The Unyielding Ones

A secret safehouse somewhere in Pullea, the capital of the Polia Kingdom.

“Failure…?”

The middle-aged man with indigo hair clenched his fist, biting his lip as word arrived alongside the sight of troops flooding the capital. The plan had been perfect. They had even acquired a secret map of the royal palace and dispatched sufficient force.

‘How could this have failed? We sent in two who had reached the level of mana users.’

Even deploying their precious assets—mana wielders—should have covered any contingencies. And yet it hadn’t. With the palace sealed off, proper reports were scarce, but the simple fact that none had returned on time meant they had all been wiped out.

‘A variable outside our projections… What appeared inside the palace, exactly?’

He could not tell, and the thought alone made the aftermath feel troublesome. Because of this failure, the palace would tighten security even further. Under more severe vigilance, repeating this attempt would be impossible.

‘How am I supposed to proceed now…’

This was more important than any ordinary operation; his superiors would not look kindly on failure. Anxiety gnawed at him. Yet there was nothing he could do immediately. The capital was under strict military control. Anyone traveling the roads had to submit to identity checks by soldiers.

‘The forged IDs are flawless, but the risk is unacceptable. We wait until things calm down.’

The situation in Pullea was so grim that even moving from this safehouse to another was dangerous. He resolved to lie low for a while.

‘I don’t know what the King will do once he returns.’

Whether the King would rush back from vacation was uncertain, but his fury would be great. The hunt for them would intensify. Even so, he doubted they could be tracked down.

‘Even if any were captured, they would never talk. The engraved geas won’t be undone so easily.’

Inside a moving train, Charlotte’s voice carried a note of regret as they headed north, the central region already behind them.

“Ah, what a shame.”

“After all that fun, you still regret leaving?”

“Yes—very much.”

“If you miss it that much, we’ll come again next year.”

“Really? We’ll come again?”

Smiling, Ian nodded—agreed. The vacation had washed away much of his mental fatigue. He had spent truly peaceful days, often fishing by the lake.

Charlotte said she couldn’t understand days like that, but what can I say—it’s fun.

Perhaps it was an age thing; such hobbies suited him. He had also spent a fair bit of time with Princess Adrina. Part of it was for show—so his mother and sister could see them together—but he learned something surprising in the process.

She was seventeen this year. He wondered why he had never asked her age; she had seemed so mature that he had assumed she was older. And since it wasn’t a real engagement, the thought to ask simply hadn’t come up.

‘I let too much slide. And to think we even held a betrothal ceremony when she was sixteen.’

Maybe her breadth of thought had hidden how young she was. Who decided to shoulder the emperor-brother’s will for the future and go to a foreign king in his stead?

Considering she hadn’t been engaged or married before, youth explained a lot. If he had thought more carefully, he would have realized her age at once.

“Brother, why are you staring holes in Her Highness’s face like that? Is it because your fiancée is so pretty?”

Hearing Charlotte’s teasing, Ian thought she had grown quite a bit—she could say things like that now. He had drifted off into thought and apparently stared too long; Princess Adrina looked a little flustered. Feeling playful, he spoke.

“Well, it’s true. With people calling Princess Adrina the most beautiful woman in the world, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you could say things like that, Brother.”

“What, am I not a man?”

Princess Adrina’s face had turned as red as a ripe persimmon; Ian realized that one more word and she might die of embarrassment. They were close enough now to joke like this, but pushing it could backfire.

“I’m joking. Ha ha.”

When he laughed it off, did her expression look… faintly disappointed? Maybe he imagined it. Charlotte shook her head and said,

“Brother, you really don’t understand a woman’s heart.”

“What do you mean I don’t understand a woman’s heart?”

“It’s nothing. Ah… once we’re back, it’s back to school and studying all the time.”

“If you hate that, try finding something else you want to do.”

“I’m still looking.”

“Keep at it. You’ll find what you want.”

“I will. Thank you, Brother.”

Watching them, Princess Adrina felt a pang of envy. A king who told his sister to seek what she wanted—this was nothing like the imperial family of Magnia.

‘If only I’d had a brother like that.’

Sensing the time was right, Ian carefully broached a subject he had postponed.

“There’s something I should tell everyone. When we arrive in the capital, you may be quite startled.”

“Is something wrong in the capital?”

He looked to his mother and, seeing her worried face, explained: in the predawn hours of the fourth day of their vacation, intruders had entered the palace. All three listeners were plainly shocked.

Ian quickly added that the intruders had been repelled and that repairs were already underway. From the reports, a battle had broken out in the lobby near the main entrance, causing significant damage.

With that, Ian concluded his vacation and headed for the capital.

Hiss—!

Steam vented as the royal train pulled in. Ian stepped down to find Count Dimentis waiting to greet him. Around them, soldiers from the Capital Defense Command were everywhere.

Given the recent infiltration, the scene was understandably grim. Count Dimentis snapped a crisp salute.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty.”

“The Count himself came to meet me?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I judged it still too early to feel at ease.”

“With this many guards, what could happen?”

With the palace guard and the field troops here, who would dare try anything? Complacency was dangerous, yes—but Ian had the strength to protect himself.

‘I can protect not only myself but my family as well.’

With telekinesis, he could stop bullets from even approaching. Even a far more advanced sniper rifle would be useless; he knew this from his experience on a more technologically developed Earth.

“Mardin, you’re here too? Did you enjoy your vacation?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

His secretary Mardin had returned early and was waiting. Ian felt vindicated in extending his own leave; if he had rushed back, Mardin might have been forced to abandon his family and return, too.

“Shall we head to the palace?”

“Your Majesty, perhaps you should lodge elsewhere for the time being.”

“Elsewhere? Why?”

“It seems there are secret passages unknown to us. We haven’t found all the routes, so we cannot guarantee your safety.”

Ian recalled that they still hadn’t identified the intruders’ point of entry. If there were routes unknown to them, a sudden attack inside the palace was possible.

Hidden secret passages—how inconvenient.

It felt as if the palace weren’t truly his. Perhaps that was because he had not ascended the throne in the usual way; he hadn’t inherited complete knowledge of the palace’s secrets.

If his father had properly named a successor and passed down the throne, such information would have been transmitted. Even the palace steward likely didn’t know every secret.

“If the King won’t guard the palace, who will? I’ll go back. But Her Majesty, Mother, Princess Charlotte, and Princess Adrina will stay somewhere secure.”

They accepted his decision, though Mardin—unaffected by Mental Manipulation—still looked worried. Ian assigned him a task.

“Mardin, locate the teams who handled palace renovations. Through them, gather information about the secret passages. Some of them must know and have been keeping silent by arrangement.”

“Ah, of course. I’ll find them and make them talk.”

“I’m counting on you.”

“Rest assured.”

Seeing Ian’s trust, Mardin’s face set with determination. Normally Ian would have warned him not to be too heavy-handed, but with his family’s safety at stake, he let it lie. Whoever knew anything would have to speak.

‘If they keep their mouths shut to the end, I’ll have to resort to Mental Manipulation.’

When he explained this plan to his mother, Charlotte, and Princess Adrina—waiting in the carriage—they insisted on going to the palace too. Ian refused. He would concede many things, but not on safety.

At last they agreed to go elsewhere, and Ian set off for the palace. The King’s return drew many eyes.

While the capital roared with news of the King’s return, someone visited the hidden safehouse. Coming here at such a time, with surveillance so intense, could only mean they had moved in utmost secrecy.

Seeing the visitor, the indigo-haired middle-aged man’s face hardened. This was the last person he wanted to see here. The newcomer stared at him with arrogant eyes. The middle-aged man spoke in a drained voice.

“Welcome. I didn’t expect to see you in a place like this.”

“It’s been a while. More importantly, things have taken a strange turn.”

“So they have…”

“Headquarters is displeased. The previous failure should never have happened. You understand it was a mission that had to succeed.”

“I know full well. There must have been a major variable. So—”

“Now that I’m here, don’t worry about variables.”

Cut off mid-sentence, the middle-aged man’s face tightened further. Dread crept in. The very fact this man had come said much about what the higher-ups were thinking.

“Don’t take it lightly. We sent the best of the best—and they were all taken out. We still don’t know what’s inside that palace.”

“I don’t doubt you sent elites. But now I’m here.”

“Hmm. We’ve concluded this country may have backing we do not yet grasp. Don’t be overconfident.”

“Even so, that’s no reason to abandon the recovery. By all indications, it’s here. We must retrieve it. Our patrons insist.”

“…Security at the palace will be far tighter than before. Do you understand how dangerous it will be to go back in?”

“I do. Which is why I’ve prepared thoroughly.”

Not only had this man arrived—others had slipped into the country in separate cells. The mission was too important; they would attempt another infiltration of the palace. They would not give up—not until they obtained what they sought within the royal walls.

“I’d like to stop you, but now that orders have come from above, I can’t.”

“Gather every asset you can.”

At those words, the middle-aged man realized there would be war inside the palace. Their organization would never stop until they got what they wanted.