AnimeMan: The 13th Princess’s Overpowered Servant

She wasn't going to sleep tonight. She had too much work to do. She needed to sit at her desk, draft a formal, airtight diplomatic treaty, and prepare her arguments. Tomorrow morning, she was going to march right out of her estate, walk straight up to the massive, expensive iron gates of Princess Hestia's mansion next door, and completely rewrite the rules of the Succession War.

The 13th Unit was not out of the game yet. Thanks to a lazy midnight snack and some absurd slacker logic, they were about to launch the biggest comeback the Empire had ever seen.

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Far removed from the 13th Unit’s headquarters, deep within an unmapped, magically shielded pocket dimension, a secret meeting was taking place.

There were no windows in this room, and there were no doors. The only thing inside this vast, dark space was a massive, circular stone table. Sitting around this table were twelve figures. These twelve individuals were the true, absolute shadow rulers of the Belmontia Empire. They were the wealthy politicians, the military commanders, and the hidden billionaires who pulled the strings behind the Royal Family. They were known only as the "Round Table."

To protect their true identities from each other, every single member of this secret society wore heavy, full-body armor and thick, enchanted metal masks. They completely hid their voices and their faces. They operated using the aliases of legendary Arthurian knights.

Sitting completely still among these massive geopolitical titans was Ken Eliot.

Of course, nobody at the table knew his real name. Ken was currently projecting an incredibly realistic, magical avatar of his hidden persona. He was operating under the alias "Lancelot." He wore a high-collared, dramatic black cloak covered in elegant gold embroidery. His face was completely hidden behind a smooth black mask with a single, glowing purple eye in the center.

None of the other eleven shadow rulers had absolutely any idea that the terrifying, god-like Lancelot sitting across from them was actually a lazy, messy commoner who regularly complained about walking up a flight of stairs. They thought Lancelot was a ruthless, ancient warlord.

Internally, Ken was completely and totally bored out of his mind.

"I cannot believe how uncomfortable these chairs are," Ken thought to himself, completely dropping his scary persona inside his own head. "We are supposed to be the richest, most powerful secret group in the entire Empire. You would think someone could afford to buy a few seat cushions. My back is killing me. I could be at home right now, eating my leftover instant noodles and taking a nap. Instead, I am stuck in the ultimate, never-ending corporate board meeting."

At the head of the table, a large man wearing a golden mask shaped like a lion cleared his throat. He went by the alias "King Arthur," and he served as the unofficial leader of the group.

"Let us bring this meeting to order," Arthur announced, his magically altered voice echoing loudly off the unseen walls of the dimension. "We have a very serious crisis developing in the capital. I am sure you have all read the latest intelligence reports from the outer districts."

A knight wearing bright red armor, operating under the name "Gawain," slammed his heavy metal fist onto the stone table.

"It is a complete disaster," Gawain growled, sounding incredibly annoyed. "The hospitals in Sector Four and Sector Seven are completely overflowing. There is a new outbreak of some mysterious disease spreading through the slums. The local police are panicking, and the regular doctors have absolutely no idea how to treat it."

"It is just the slums," scoffed a knight named "Tristan," who was leaning back lazily in his chair. "Those people live in the dirt. They drink bad water and they don't wash their hands. Sickness spreads in the outer districts every single winter. Why are we wasting the Round Table's valuable time talking about a common cold?"

"Because it is not a common cold, Tristan," said a knight named "Percival." Percival was the analytical mind of the group, and he sounded very worried. "I reviewed the medical files myself. The symptoms are completely unnatural. The patients are reporting that their skin is turning a sickly, dead gray color. Their hair is falling out. But worst of all, their internal mana channels are literally burning up from the inside out. They are experiencing unimaginable levels of pain before their lungs finally give out."

The atmosphere in the room instantly became incredibly tense.

Several knights shifted uncomfortably in their hard stone chairs. They all knew exactly what those specific symptoms meant, but nobody wanted to say the word out loud.

"Those symptoms..." Arthur started, his voice dropping to a heavy whisper. "They perfectly mirror the horrific plague from ten years ago. The tragedy at the border villages."

"That is impossible!" Gawain shouted, pointing a metal finger across the table. "That plague was caused by the Soluriam radiation leak! We shut that entire mining operation down a decade ago! Every single piece of that toxic, radioactive mineral was locked away in the deepest vaults of the Empire! There is absolutely no way Soluriam radiation is leaking into the capital city today!"

"And yet, here we are," Percival countered quickly. "The death toll is rising every single day. If this disease spreads out of the slums and reaches the middle-class commercial districts, it will cause a city-wide panic. The economy will crash. The Royal Succession War will be totally interrupted."

The table immediately erupted into a chaotic, loud argument.

"We need to quarantine the entire outer district!" Tristan yelled over the noise. "Build a wall around Sector Four! Do not let anyone in or out! Just lock the gates and let the sickness run its course. If those people die, we can just rebuild the neighborhoods later."

"You cannot just wall off half the city!" Percival argued back. "We need to send elite magical healers to figure out a cure! If the public finds out we are letting thousands of people die in the streets, there will be massive, violent riots outside the palace!"

"Let them riot!" Gawain roared, crossing his massive arms. "I will send the military down there to crush them! We cannot afford to look weak right now!"

Ken sat quietly in his chair, listening to the eleven men scream at each other.

Behind his terrifying mask, Ken’s sleepy eyes narrowed. He listened to them talk about human lives like they were just numbers on a spreadsheet. They were perfectly willing to lock thousands of innocent families in a cage to die, just so they wouldn't have to deal with the bad publicity.

"These guys are absolutely unbelievable," Ken sighed internally, feeling a sharp twist of annoyance in his chest. "They have all the money and power in the world, and their first idea is always to just ignore the problem or blow it up. They are acting like a bunch of panicked children. If I don't step in right now, they are going to argue in circles for another three hours, and I am definitely going to miss my bedtime."

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