The throne of the Kingdom of Vielles was made of polished white marble and inlaid with gold leaf, designed to catch the sun streaming through the high arched windows of the royal palace. For three centuries, a sovereign had sat upon it to deliver judgment, receive tribute, and project the absolute authority of the crown.
For three weeks, it had sat empty.
At first, the palace staff spoke in hushed whispers. A king disappearing for a day or two to attend to "private matters" in the lower city was not entirely unheard of—King Neptune was known for his late-night excursions and secretive dealings. But when two days turned into five, and five turned into a fortnight, the whispers turned into a suffocating blanket of dread that hung over every corridor of the capital.
Inside the Royal Strategy Chamber, the air was thick with the scent of unread parchment, stale tea, and underlying panic.
Queen Rosalind sat at the head of the long obsidian table. Her usually immaculate golden hair was pulled back into a tight, severe bun, and the faint violet shadows beneath her eyes betrayed her complete lack of sleep. She held a wine glass, her manicured nails tapping a sharp, rhythmic beat against the crystal.
"Three weeks," Queen Rosalind said, her voice dropping into a razor-thin register that made the surrounding ministers wince. "The ruler of the greatest kingdom in the eastern continent vanishes into thin air, and my Grand Inquisitors bring me nothing? No ransom demands? No signs of a struggle? No magical residue?"
Duke Vane, a rotund noble who controlled the southern trade routes, cleared his throat nervously, adjusting his heavy velvet collar. "Your Majesty... we must consider the possibility of a foreign strike. The Eastern Empire has been encroaching on our borders. If they deployed an S-rank spatial assassin—"
"If an assassin had breached the inner sanctum, the royal wards would have screamed!" Prime Minister Gerald interrupted, slamming a gnarled hand onto the table. "The wards were completely silent! The King walked out of his private quarters under his own power, bypassed the courtyard guards, and simply... ceased to exist! If word gets out to the public that the crown is leaderless, the markets will crash by morning!"
"Word is getting out, Gerald," Duke Vane spat back, leaning forward. "The merchant guilds are already hoarding grain! The provincial lords are withholding their seasonal taxes, claiming they cannot verify the royal seal! The kingdom is fracturing!"
Sitting near the end of the table, isolated from the bickering old men, was Princess Eleanor.
The King's sixteen-year-old daughter stared down at her lap, her hands tightly folded. In the absence of her father, the court treated her like a fragile ornament. She felt the heavy, suffocating pressure of a dozen opportunistic eyes watching her every breath, calculating how best to use a fatherless princess to secure their own power.
Where are you, Father? Eleanor thought, her chest tightening. What dark game were you playing in the shadows this time?
The Pride of the "Heroes"
The heavy double doors of the strategy chamber swung open without a guard's announcement.
Stepping into the room with absolute, unbothered arrogance were the summoned heroes.
Leading the trio was Lio, the Flame Hero. He wore custom-forged, gold-trimmed dragon-scale armor that caught the magical light of the chandeliers. A fiery crimson aura faintly flickered around his shoulders—a deliberate display of mana to remind the nobles who held the real military power. He didn't bow. He didn't even drop his head. He strutted to the side of the table, pulling out a chair and slumping into it with his boots kicked up onto the mahogany wood.
"Still squabbling over the old man?" Lio asked, a mocking smirk on his lips as he casually generated a tiny, swirling ball of miniature fire above his palm, tossing it from hand to hand. "You nobles worry too much. So the King went missing. So what? You've got us."
Behind him walked Athe, the Shadow Lord. Draped in high-collared dark leather coats that seemed to swallow the light around him, Athe crossed his arms and leaned against a stone pillar in the corner. His sharp face was a mask of cold, elitist pride. He looked at the panicking ministers not with concern, but with absolute disdain.
"Lio is correct," Athe spoke, his voice dripping with condescension. "You old men tremble at shadows. King Neptune was merely a politician. The true foundation of this kingdom's survival isn't a crown—it is our absolute strength. As long as I command the shadows and Lio wields the holy flames, no foreign empire or rogue faction dares cross our borders."
"And what about the domestic stability?!" Prime Minister Gerald barked, his face turning red. "The people are terrified! The church is demanding answers!"
"Then tell them the King is on a holy retreat," Mai, the Royal Healer, said smoothly as she entered behind them. She was draped in pristine white silk robes embroidered with real emeralds—gifts she had demanded from the royal treasury in exchange for healing high-ranking lords.
She inspected her manicured nails, her eyes gleaming with cold, calculated greed. "Or better yet... increase our monthly budget so we can perform public 'blessings' in the cathedral. A few flashy miracles from the Royal Healer will quiet the commoners right up.
My services, of course, will require double the usual mana crystal allocation."
Queen Rosalind glared at the three heroes. She knew exactly what they were—arrogant, power-hungry children who had been handed god-like powers by the summoning crystal. They didn't care about King Neptune.
They didn't care about Vielles. They only cared about their rising influence, their luxury, and the worship of the masses.
"You speak lightly of your benefactor's disappearance," Queen Rosalind said coldly, her eyes locking onto Lio. "King Neptune was the one who granted you your titles, your estates, and your knights."
Lio snorted, snuffing out the fireball in his hand with a lazy snap of his fingers. "He gave us those things because he needed us, Queen. Without my fire, his royal army is just a bunch of guys in tin suits. Let's be real—with the old man gone, things are actually run much smoother. No more useless regulations slowing down our dungeon raids."
"And what of the fourth?" Princess Eleanor suddenly spoke up, her voice small but clear.
The room fell quiet for a second.
Lio blinked, then let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "The fourth? You mean that pathetic loser, Kira?"
Athe let out a low, dismissive scoff from the shadows near the pillar. "Why even bring up that dead weight, Princess? The crystal didn't even give him a single spark of magic. He's a zero."
"He lives in the east wing of the academy dorms," Mai added, a disgusted sneer curling her lips. "He doesn't even have the mana to light a candle. Last I heard, he spends his entire day locked inside his little room, reading worthless books or staring out the window like a broken dog. He's so weak he doesn't even show his face at the main dining hall anymore."
"He's a stain on our reputation," Lio spat, leaning back in his chair. "When people mention the 'Four Summoned Heroes,' I gag. It's three heroes... and one useless parasite living off our tax money. Forget about him. If a assassin actually came to the capital, they wouldn't even waste a rusty dagger on Kira."
Queen Rosalind waved her hand dismissively, agreeing completely with the heroes. To her, Kira Yagami was an irrelevant piece of trash she had forgotten existed months ago.
"Enough about the useless one," the Queen commanded, standing up from her seat. "If the King does not return by the end of the month, I will declare an emergency regency. Princess Eleanor will be crowned, and I will rule in her stead until Neptune is found... dead or alive."
The Illusion of Peace
While the grand palace burned with political paranoia, backstabbing, and greed, the eastern wing of the Royal Academy was dead silent.
Located far away from the luxurious living quarters of Lio, Athe, and Mai, the low-tier dormitories were drafty and old. It was where the academy kept the commoner scholarship students and the failed noble offspring.
In the farthest room at the end of a long, dimly lit hallway, the door was firmly shut.
Inside, the room was small, simple, and clean. A single wooden bed sat against the wall, a small desk held a few standard history books, and a single window looked out over the quiet forest surrounding the academy grounds.
Kira Yagami sat at the desk, wearing a plain, unadorned black tunic—the uniform of a baseline student. He held a wooden stylus, casually twirling it between his fingers with hypnotic speed.
Through the open window, the cool evening breeze blew the white curtains softly. But to normal eyes, the room looked entirely empty of magic, devoid of any presence.
< System: Scanning external mana networks... >
< System: Royal Palace status: High alert. Panic level among the noble council has reached 88%. Queen Rosalind has deployed 400 undercover inquisitors to search the lower districts. Zero suspects identified. >
Iris's voice chimed inside Kira's head, sounding calm, relaxed, and deeply satisfied.
< System: The heroes Lio, Athe, and Mai have officially classified your status as 'Non-Threat / Useless Resident.' Their surveillance on your location has dropped to 0%. >
Kira let out a soft, almost silent chuckle, leaning his chin on his hand as he looked out the window toward the distant, glowing spires of the royal palace.
Perfect, Kira thought.
In the eyes of the entire kingdom, King Neptune had simply vanished into thin air. A mysterious, inexplicable event that was driving the corrupt court insane with paranoia. They were looking for foreign spatial assassins, high-tier rebel groups, and underground syndicates. They were checking the borders, interrogating foreign diplomats, and double-guarding the vaults.
Not a single soul in the entire world suspected the quiet, powerless boy sitting in the drafty academy room.
To the kingdom of Vielles, Kira Yagami was still the "useless hero." The boy who received no blessing from the holy crystal. The failure who had no elemental magic, no flashy title, no noble sponsors, and no future. The weakling who hid in his room because he was too ashamed to face the arrogant glare of Lio, the cold disdain of Athe, or the greedy laughter of Mai.
They didn't know that the King's blood had already been cleansed from the earth by divine light.
They didn't know that the black-market syndicate that hunted shadow beasts had been dismantled from the top down in a single night.
And they certainly didn't know that while Lio boasted about his flame magic in the strategy chamber, Kira was silently maintaining a massive, invisible network of 114 divine-buffed shadow wolves, five powerful wives, and a high-tech future system that could tear the kingdom's defenses to shreds with a single command.
A quiet knock echoed at his door.
Kira didn't jump. He didn't rush. He simply wiped the subtle, lethal smirk from his face, letting his features fall back into the perfectly practiced mask of a dull, tired, ordinary student.
"Who is it?" Kira called out, his voice sounding slightly weak, unbothered, and completely average.
"It's the academy mess hall staff, student Kira," a tired voice replied from the hallway. "Leaving your evening bread and soup at the door."
"Thank you," Kira replied softly.
He heard the wooden tray being set on the floor outside, followed by the retreating footsteps of the staff member.
Kira didn't immediately open the door. He waited, letting his sharp senses track the staff member until the man was far down the corridor.
Then, he leaned back in his chair, looking up at the wooden ceiling. Deep within his shadow, Alaska shifted silently, a faint, comforting warmth radiating up through the floorboards to his boots.
Lio, Athe, and Mai were playing heroes in the spotlight, drunk on fake praise and temporary power, believing themselves to be the gods of this world. They fought for luxury, for titles, and for the approval of a corrupt court that was already rotting from the inside out.
Let them have their theater. Let the nobles scream at each other in the strategy rooms. Let the Queen play her little game of thrones.
Kira closed his eyes, a faint, contented smile gracing his lips in the quiet darkness of his room.
He had his family. He had his freedom. And as long as the world believed he was useless, he held the entire kingdom in the palm of his hand without ever needing to step into their light.
To be continued.....