Chapter 1: The Fear That Unites

A few days after that night’s incident, the Königreich Rabenmark was transformed.

The capital, usually sluggish in its pace, was now restless. In government buildings, officials paced the halls with taut, pale faces. Those who had previously played both sides—half-loyal, half-treacherous—suddenly became paragons of obedience.

It wasn’t out of conviction.

It was out of fear.

The fear of becoming the next target.

Giant headlines dominated the morning papers.

The digital billboards at every intersection played a loop of the arrests, the gunfire, and the chillingly calm face of Prince Hans Friedrich.

“Prince Hans’s actions are commendable.”

“He did what no one else dared to do.”

A witness spoke passionately before a camera lens. “Lord Hans is not in the wrong,” he declared. “Those rats had to be purged.”

The reporter nodded. The citizens behind him cheered in unison.

Inside a sleek black car speeding through the streets, a man with long blonde hair and strikingly beautiful blue eyes sat in silence. A cup of warm tea was in his hand. On his digital tablet, last night’s news played on an infinite loop.

Leonhard Severin read every word with a relaxed expression.

“Lord Leon,” his right-hand man spoke cautiously, “will you truly remain idle while your younger brother makes his move toward the throne?”

Leonhard offered a faint, thin smile.

“This is only natural,” he replied lightly. “Let him work.”

He took a slow sip of his tea.

“In fact, this case benefits me,” he continued. “Now, I know exactly which rats have been gnawing at the kingdom from within.”

His gaze hardened.

“And I also know… who is likely to betray us.”

The car accelerated, racing toward the palace.

In the marketplaces, support for Hans surged like a tide.

“It was about time.”

“They’ve been corrupt for far too long.”

“If not Prince Hans, who else would have the spine?”

Some went even further.

“I hope if it happens again, Lord Hans finishes them all off.”

For the first time in years, the people felt the state was on their side. And for those in power—that was the most dangerous development of all.

Inside the palace, the atmosphere was starkly different.

The council chamber was thick with tension. Ministers argued incessantly—some in a state of fury, others in sheer panic.

“This was a unilateral, irresponsible act!”

“The boy has overstepped his authority!”

“But the people support him—!”

Upon the throne, Kaiser Edwald von Rabenmark sat in silence. His hair was stark white, his eyes a cold, piercing blue. His aura of majesty weighed heavily upon the room.

“Enough,” he finally spoke.

The room fell into an immediate hush.

“The arrests were legal,” he continued quietly. “The evidence was provided. Their crimes were real.”

Several ministers gasped. Others bowed their heads—some in relief, others in renewed terror.

Suddenly, the council doors groaned open.

Leonhard Severin stepped inside.

“Calm yourselves,” he said, walking toward the front. “The operation was executed with precision. I am certain Hans was not reckless in his judgment.”

“B-But, Lord Leon, the problem is—”

The sentence died in the speaker's throat as Leonhard’s cold gaze swept over him.

No one dared to continue.

“In other words,” Leonhard said calmly, “this case grants us an advantage.”

He smiled.

“We now know exactly which rats have violated the laws of this kingdom.”

Meanwhile, Hans Friedrich was nowhere near the palace.

He sat inside a train car, leaving the capital behind. He knew the council meetings would be a waste of his time. His destination was a small village to the north: Dorf Eisenruh.

He came to find peace.

And to seek information—regarding a spy from a neighboring country.

And perhaps… his mentor.

Upon arriving at the station, a squad from the Rabenlegion – 77th Infantry Feldtruppen stood waiting.

“Welcome to Dorf Eisenruh, Lord Hans William Friedrich,” their commander barked, saluting sharply.

Hans gave a brief nod.

“So you received the letter,” Hans said as he walked. “What intel do you have on the woman named Olivia?”

The commander nodded.

“According to reports, she is being held at a camp north of the village. However… are you certain you wish to go alone?”

Hans did not answer.

The commander knew—that was answer enough.

“Before you go,” the commander added, “there is one more thing we must report.”

“What is it?”

“Be wary of the cult calling themselves the Orden der Heiligen Kette (Order of the Holy Chain).”

He explained briefly: a radical heretical sect that believed the gods were not neutral. They believed the world was moved by the chains of divine will.

Freedom was an illusion.

Obedience was the highest form of faith.

Hans listened without expression. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he walked toward the north.

Alone.