The man who approached with his arms crossed, dressed in black uniform, was none other than Balt.

Balt’s sword at his waist glinted, reflecting the light of the setting sun.

“Did you receive the letter I gave you last night?”

As Balt drew near, Dietrich stepped forward one step, as if to shield Celia.

At this, Balt raised one eyebrow and sneered.

“You’re being quite overprotective. Surely you don’t think I’d do something while you’re standing right there?”

“I sensed your presence already. What do you want?”

Balt shrugged his shoulders at Dietrich’s wary tone.

“You don’t trust me.”

“In this situation, wouldn’t it be stranger to trust a duke?”

“Well, yes, that’s true. It’s not exactly pleasant being treated the same as Ileon.”

Balt scratched his chin, then pulled something from his coat and handed it to Dietrich.

“Will you trust me a little if I give you this?”

“……!”

What Balt handed over was a scrapbook detailing Ileon’s various atrocities.

Inside were meticulously recorded all the crimes Ileon had committed, along with evidence and circumstances.

The scrapbook contained detailed accounts of incidents sufficient to corner Ileon, events so damning they could make even those who still believed in Ileon turn their backs completely.

“Why are you giving me something this important?”

When Dietrich asked, Balt smirked and replied.

“I know very well that you want to destroy Abelon. I’m giving you this to mean—destroy Abelon, but don’t kill the innocent.”

“Duke Portman, you are a duke of Abelon. Are you really saying in front of me that you’re abandoning Abelon?”

Dietrich’s words were met by Balt.

“And weren’t you once a duke yourself? Even if it was a meaningless title given and taken back by Ileon like charity.”

“Our situations are different. You are deeply rooted in Abelon by birth. I am not.”

“You really make a fuss over being born into a decent family by mere luck.”

Balt made a soft scoffing sound and continued.

“I understand. After everything you’ve endured, trusting me based on just a few scraps of paper must be difficult.”

“…….”

“But you know well that everything written there is no lie. Isn’t that right?”

Balt was right—the contents of the scrapbook were all true, not a single false piece of information.

“If you hadn’t taken Ileon out of prison in the first place, things wouldn’t have become this complicated.”

Stung by Dietrich’s words, Balt let out a deep sigh.

“Yes. I briefly thought that mad bastard was my friend. But people don’t change easily.”

Balt gazed bitterly at the desolate street, empty of people.

“I thought burning down the Grand Cathedral would bring him back to his senses. He was the one who believed in God more than anyone else……”

Balt paused briefly. Emotions toward Ileon surged all at once, making it hard for him to continue.

“Kill that foolish, arrogant son of a bitch with your own hands. He thinks he’s the smartest person in the world.”

“…….”

“Damn it, sentimentality is useless. I just couldn’t bring myself to kill that f***ing bastard with my own hands.”

Balt spat out a curse.

“Oh, and I’m sorry about killing a few of your knights when I escaped.”

“……Now you say it?”

At Celia’s words, Balt coughed awkwardly and snapped loudly.

“At least I’m apologizing, aren’t I!”

“…….”

“If you want compensation, bill it to the Portman dukedom. And by the way, if you plan to build a new nation after Abelon’s fall, don’t touch my family. Disobey me, and I’ll cut your hands off right here.”

Despite Balt’s threatening words, Dietrich showed no change in expression.

“You’re no fun. What exactly do you see in this guy?”

Looking at Dietrich with a disgusted expression, Balt clicked his tongue and turned his gaze to Celia.

Celia stared back at Balt with a dry expression just as emotionless as Dietrich’s.

“So you’re both making fun of me together.”

Despite his words, Balt didn’t seem offended at all.

“I’ve delivered everything I came to say. I’ll be on my way now.”

As if his business was done, Balt turned his body to leave.

Once the two were alone, Celia quietly asked Dietrich.

“…What do you think about what just happened?”

Dietrich opened his mouth while examining the scrapbook thrust into his hand by Balt.

“Hmm. I can’t figure him out at all. What’s gotten into him?”

“I feel the same.”

“But one thing is certain—what’s written in this item is not false.”

Dietrich clearly looked troubled.

“Even if the betrayal stings deeply, considering how much he trusted Ileon, the fact that he readily handed over such a crucial item suggests he truly doesn’t care if Abelon perishes.”

Dietrich furrowed his brows.

“…For now that it’s in our hands, we should use it as best we can.”

Dietrich immediately put his words into action.

He copied the scrapbook Balt had given him and handed it over to his own newspaper company.

The newspaper was distributed across all of Abelon.

It reported how Ileon used Arthur Servantes to kill the Crown Prince and seize the throne, how Ileon deliberately fed poison to the Crown Prince, causing his madness, and more.

The article was so shocking that some readers fainted on the spot upon reading it.

This was more than enough to drag Ileon’s already poor public image into utter ruin.

And finally, Ileon’s side responded.

Ileon declared total war against Dietrich, proclaiming himself the protector of Abelon.

**

An envoy of Ileon, accompanied by armed knights, loudly read a proclamation in the capital’s streets.

“Hear me, people of Abelon! I, Ileon Gredrick Basilisk, as the final protector of Abelon, hereby declare the punishment of Sir Dietrich, commander of the Imperial Knights!”

People who used to keep their windows tightly shut, afraid of who might hear, now flung them wide open to listen.

Noticing the people watching from the windows, the envoy raised his voice even louder than before and continued reading.

“For crimes of misleading and bewitching the minds of the people with false words alongside Celia Brillion, the fallen princess of the destroyed Kingdom of Shan, for burning down the Grand Cathedral, for murdering Arthur Servantes and members of the royal family, among others—his crimes are so heinous they cannot even be spoken of. But the gravest crime of all is……”

The envoy deliberately paused, scanning slowly across the people watching from their windows.

“That someone not even born in Abelon has risen to the position of commander of the Imperial Knights. A man who entered Abelon with the deliberate intent to destroy it has become its commander—Abelon’s downfall was thus fated from the beginning.”

The crowd’s murmuring grew louder at the envoy’s words.

“What? Is that really true?”

“Wasn’t he just someone the late emperor saved from being sold into slavery?”

“…Wait, are you saying he planned to destroy Abelon from the start?”

“That’s impossible……”

Amid the growing unrest, the envoy’s voice spread further.

“The people are mistaken. In truth, Sir Dietrich’s real name is not Dietrich, and his origin lies not in Shan, but as the youngest prince of the Principality of Inata, a nation long vanished into history.”

The people were stunned into silence.

“I, Ileon Gredrick Basilisk, swear before you all today: I will tear apart the cunning-tongued Dietrich and restore peace to this chaotic Abelon!”

Having finished speaking, the envoy pulled out the Gredrick family crest from his sleeve.

Thus, the full-scale war between Ileon and Dietrich began.

“What exactly do you intend to use these people for?”

At his subordinate’s question, Ileon let out a low chuckle.

Before Ileon, Hariel, Gabriel, and Vincent knelt on the cold floor, each with a gag in their mouth.

“The Grand Cathedral has burned and the altar is gone, but we still have Aquinep grass, don’t we? How wonderful it is to have such convenient offerings ready for God.”

“…….”

“Prepare the executor for the ritual. The younger, the better.”

“Yes, Master.”

‘Altar? Offering?’

Confused by the incomprehensible words, Gabriel frowned.

Gabriel cautiously scanned the surroundings.

But the area was completely shrouded in darkness by thick blackout curtains, making it impossible to discern the location.

“Are you coming to your senses? Gabriel Brillion.”

At the gentle voice, so out of place with the situation, Gabriel stopped looking around and looked up at Ileon before him.

Ileon’s face, illuminated by the lantern held by his subordinate, shone eerily pale.

Ileon, whom rumors said was imprisoned or ill, stood before her like a lie.

Beneath his calm tone, Ileon’s sharp, icy eyes beneath his straight brows were chillingly cold.

“Mmm! Mmm!”

Gabriel tried to ask where she was, but the gag in her mouth prevented her words from coming out clearly.

“Oh, I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Ileon gestured with his chin, and a subordinate removed the gag from Gabriel’s mouth.

“Y-Your Majesty. Where am I? Why am I here?”