Chapter 232 Princess of a Fallen Nation, the First Resistance - Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Flowing land naturally becomes a valley. The Meta Conveyor Belt must be level, and so, when the militaristic nation built roads in the northern highlands, it undertook an epic construction project that would be remembered in history. Typically, flowing water erodes the land over time to form valleys, but here, countless humans carved out valleys to make the land flow. This was humanity's prowess, defying even the principles of nature. Even if it was the work of an enemy, one couldn’t help but offer respect. Yet, were they truly enemies? In the childhood she couldn't recall, this nation killed her parents. The soldiers, who staged a coup, executed the rightful rulers, King Grandiomor and his Queen, with baseless accusations. As if that were not enough, they attempted to extinguish one of the few remaining bloodlines of noble royalty. They dared to defy the heavens by overthrowing the king. Thus, Yerien Grandiomor should rightfully hate them... That’s what she had been told, but this understanding of injustice, bound by knowledge, quickly dispersed. No matter how much she tried to summon anger, Yerien simply couldn’t find it. The last princess. The mark of the Grandiomor royal family that has descended from the ancient ages. Yet, in front of the vast force of nature, the utterly small girl stood gazing endlessly at the flowing land, half-immersed in awe. Amidst her contemplation, she noticed a familiar white handkerchief. Yerien murmured to herself. “…That handkerchief.” Standing silently beside her, her guardian knight, Sir Landemeyer, nodded his head. “It belongs to you, Your Highness. Indeed, it seems they were here…” Murmuring in disbelief, Sir Landemeyer soon turned his gaze of admiration towards Yerien. With a voice filled with respect, awe, and adoration, he exclaimed excitedly. “Amazing! How did you know they would come this way, Your Highness? Indeed, those blessed with noble blood possess foresight beyond ordinary comprehension!” They were the kind who would be enraptured even if Yerien simply whistled and called it a celestial melody. Although she was accustomed to such unexpected praise, she still felt a bit shy. Yerien managed a clumsy smile. “Ehehe. It wasn't that. We had no choice. For us, based in the north, there were few scenarios in which we could encounter them. If anything, it was like gambling everything on a single card.” “Exceptional insight coupled with heavenly luck allowing it to come true—those are the very qualities of a ruler! Your Highness possesses them all!” “Ehehe…” The exalted princess concealed her face with a somewhat reluctant laugh. Perhaps due to his overwhelming reverence, the knight failed to perceive the struggle veiled behind Yerien's smile. While staring at the container, Sir Landemeyer cautiously brought up the next matter. “However, Your Highness, if I may be so bold, could I speak regarding the delegation?” “If you are about to tell me not to go, please don’t. It is a decision I have made.” “I implore you. It is dangerous, Your Highness!” Persistent as ever, Sir Landemeyer impudently attempted to reverse the decision made by his sovereign. It was an action warranting reprimand, but since Yerien knew it originated from loyalty, she merely shook her head lightly. “The outcome remains the same. I will go myself.” “Please reconsider. It is dangerous. The opponent is...” “I know. However, for someone intending to wield such power to shy away due to fear is foolishness. Sir Landemeyer, as your sovereign and as the representative of the resistance, I must go.” “Urgh...! Then at least take some escorts...” “Sir Landemeyer, aren't you enough? You are the kingdom’s last and the resistance’s strongest knight. Or is it that you won’t protect me?” “Never! I will protect you with my life! However...!” Some things cannot be protected with mere resolve. Sir Landemeyer had learned this at the tender age of ten, when the royal city burned, and honor was trampled into the dirt, when the true nature of a duel was revealed by a single human. He gripped his spear handle tightly, his voice strained. “Let us concede that Tyrkanzyaka befits the title of a legendary vampire. But! That boy swordsman named Shei is a prodigy who has equaled the feats of a grandmaster at such a young age!” “Sir, pay no heed. The boy is merely a slightly younger grandmaster.” “That is precisely what a monster is! A monster who might annihilate a nation single-handedly!” Under the honor of noble duels, how sovereign had the knights stood within this world. Yet, after the value of the duel was inverted, the honor of the kingdom was trampled to dust. The duel initiated by one individual toppled the kingdom. The remaining members of the kingdom were scattered apart, and despite their immense strength, they couldn’t rise again because the very values they sought to protect were broken. As long as a grandmaster exists, no knights will be born—only deaths will follow. “If, perchance, any harm were to come to you, Your Highness…!” “Sir, hush.” Yerien feigned a displeased expression, prompting Landemeyer to immediately bow his head and kneel. Emphasizing her discomfort with a brief silence, Yerien then softened her expression and spoke with benevolence. “I am the princess of a fallen kingdom. Accepting the risks—that is part of my duty.” Landemeyer did not respond. It wasn't because he had nothing to say, but because the rule of never speaking unless permitted by his sovereign constrained him. Though she often exploited this rule, Yerien felt uncomfortable by it. What exactly were a knight and a king? Why had people forsaken their king? Perhaps this was the reason the kings vanished from the world. With a bitter smile, Yerien spoke again. “Besides, I assure you. They won’t be that dangerous. That’s my insight.” Calling it "insight" was merely a euphemism, for she had nothing substantial to back it with. It was akin to standing at the edge of a precipice, calling it a path forward amidst a crowded front swarming with foes. However, they had no choice. Once all their bets were exhausted, every moment was an all-or-nothing gamble. The princess did not know the face of the kingdom. She was unsure whether the nation, depicted in epic tales, was truly something so precious it warranted risking their lives to revive. However, many people saved her, cared for her, and loved her. Yerien couldn’t abandon those who took care of her. Even if she wasn’t a princess, she resolved to fulfill her duty as everyone's daughter. With determination shining in her smile, she called upon her friend—the one uninterested in the restoration of a kingdom and thus unburdened by obligations. A dear friend who had lost a friend, a future, and his right arm to the military regime... “And besides, Shiati will be helping me.” The Resistance princess who boarded the Meta Conveyor Belt and visited the container where we stayed encountered a perplexing situation. ‘Huh... I never imagined it would turn out like this…’ I agree. The approach of the vibrant Resistance was good. The fact that its leader was the princess of a fallen kingdom was also a known part of the regressor’s insight. After all, to unite the remnants of a fallen kingdom, they likely needed a royal bloodline. To sustain nearly 25 years of resistance, an unyielding spirit was necessary. But. “Aha! Nice to meet you, Historia! So wonderful! Really!” I never expected a survivor of Hamelin to be beside the princess. “And Huey, too! To reunite with a familiar face here!” To greet or not to greet. The mechanical prosthetic arm. Skin roughened and tanned under the sun from long activity outdoors. A creaky smile that seemed to falter somewhere. Historia tightly shut her eyes and turned away. But she couldn’t avoid it while bound. The prosthetic hand on her right arm clenched her jaw. Such audacity. Even now, bound as she was, Historia was one of the Six Extendables who could crush someone without effort. Yet here was the Resistance, brazenly approaching her. The princess, peeking from behind her guardian knight, rolled her eyes apprehensively. “Shi... Shiati. That person... she's one of the Six Extendables, right? Even if she’s bound, getting that close seems a bit dangerous, don’t you think?” But Shiati didn’t stop. Instead, it was Historia who recoiled. She attempted to turn away, seemingly overwhelmed by Shiati’s fervor. Yet the traces of the past clung to Historia like an eyelid. Her skill in auras so refined, even with eyes closed, she could perfectly envision Shiati. The wild intensity, the breath full of excitement, and the prosthetic right hand moving unnaturally, as if barely hanging in an unpleasant valley. “Oh, don’t worry about it, princess. I told you. I'm close friends with a high-ranking official in the military.” Shiati pulled Historia’s shoulder closer. Desperately trying to retreat, but without power or freedom to resist, Historia found herself drawn in. Their chests touched, Shiati’s blatant gaze upon her, as Historia averted her eyes, gritting her teeth. “And... my dear friend is the one who saved my life. You can’t imagine how grateful I was when she fished me out from the riverbed of Hamelin.” Playfully tugging Historia’s face while nuzzling her cheek, Shiati wore a grin full of ecstatic joy, as if toying with a captive. “It means even a monster has a heart! It means that even the invincible-looking daughter of the military can be touched by our power!!” Hamelin, the riverbed. The children had decided to walk, arm in arm, at the bottom of the river. Alone, they risked being swept away by the current, so they planned to cling to each other like chains. But a few, including Shiati, who had completely lost hope, chose to let the current take them. Claiming that a few floating corpses would make a greater impact, they decided to sink into the water while holding the bodies of children killed by Nicholas and the Beast. Tearfully, the children clung to Shiati. But her resolution was firm. There needed to be a scapegoat anyway, and the more who died, the less suspicion it would arouse in the militaristic nation. Real drowned bodies were necessary for it to appear as a legitimate suicide incident. She, wounded and lamenting with a festering injury from the loss of her right arm, was the ideal candidate, she declared. She spoke, half in earnest and half in resignation, with a smile that said it was better to die serving a blow to the military than to achieve nothing by surviving. A mere excuse to pry free from her friends’ pleas. However. For the children who had been united by repeated hardships, the grand reason that one could give up on life was too sweet to resist. Though it wasn’t her intention, her words struck a chord with the children. The abandoned already had more than enough reasons to give up on life. Instincts for survival engraved within their bodies held them back, yet... Humans learn the ability to sacrifice their lives for the unseen. “For the country, one can give up life”… that harsh lesson from the militaristic regime was also part of it. And so it turned against the military regime. For friends. For those who would survive. To vex the hateful nation. The children, walking arm in arm at the riverbed, one by one released their grips. Instead of stepping forward, they let go of their supporting feet. The chains that held them together fragment by fragment broke apart, and drifted down the river. Or perhaps a powerful, invisible chain bound and dragged them all down together. Historia, who happened to come downstream searching for the disappeared children, witnessed the scene and attempted to rescue the drifting children. But no amount of strength could retain the lives of those who’d let go, not even the daughter of the militaristic nation could do it. In the midst of the horrific spectacle before her, the lives Historia managed to save... ironically. Were only Shiati and a few others, the first to have drifted away. Pledging to tear down the nation even in death, they devoted themselves to the Resistance. Not remnants of an old order, but true Resistance born and raised under the military regime.