"Fixing things is just a minor inconvenience," Ken thought lazily. "You just hire some builders. You tell them to put the rocks back together. It is very simple. I would just hire Zinia. Zinia could rebuild this entire palace in about ten minutes with her earth magic. She is very efficient."
They finally reached the grand throne room.
The massive wooden doors were broken. The polished marble floor was covered in gray ash. The beautiful golden chandeliers had fallen to the ground. The glass crystals were smashed into tiny pieces. But the carved wooden throne still sat at the front of the room. It was untouched.
King Justin walked slowly toward the throne. He stood in front of the ancient chair. He turned around to face the empty room. He looked at his son. He looked at Lancelot.
"The throne remains," King Justin declared softly. "The Bluemoon Kingdom will survive."
Lancelot stood in the center of the room. He crossed his arms over his chest. The glowing purple eye stared at the King.
"You have reclaimed your position," Lancelot stated flatly. "Your authority is fully restored. Do not let your guard down again. The shadows are always watching."
"We will be ready next time," the Crown Prince promised bravely. He stood tall beside his father.
Ken let out a silent, massive yawn inside his mask.
"Okay, the quest is complete," Ken analyzed happily. "The King is back on the throne. The cutscene is officially over. I can finally go back to my estate. I am going to take my shoes off and sleep for an entire week. I am never doing cardio again."
Ken prepared to snap his fingers. He prepared to teleport away into the shadows. He wanted to vanish mysteriously. It was his signature exit.
But before Ken could lift his hand, a loud noise echoed from the hallway outside.
Footsteps approached the throne room. The footsteps were slow. They sounded uneven. They sounded like people limping.
Lancelot lowered his hand. He turned his masked face toward the broken doors.
A group of men walked into the throne room. They wore shining silver armor. But the armor was not shining anymore. The metal plates were cracked. The silver was stained with dark soot and dried blood. The men looked completely battered. They looked utterly exhausted.
They were the surviving Grandmasters of the Bluemoon Kingdom.
Ken stopped his lazy thoughts. He looked at the warriors. He noticed they were missing several people. The group looked incredibly small. The atmosphere in the throne room instantly changed. It turned very cold and very sad.
The next part of the conversation was going to be incredibly tragic. Ken realized he could not leave just yet. He had to stay and listen. He had to play the role of the Sovereign for just a little bit longer.
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Grandmaster Kaelen limped into the room. The wind mage leaned on a broken spear. His face was covered in dark bruises. Grandmaster Sylas walked right beside him. The barrier mage held his injured arm tightly against his chest. Grandmaster Brandon followed them. The strong earth mage looked incredibly weary. Grandmaster Roger stumbled slightly. The water mage had a massive cut across his forehead.
There were only six men.
They walked toward the center of the ruined throne room. They stopped a few feet away from Lancelot. They looked up at King Justin.
The surviving Grandmasters dropped to one knee. They bowed their heads. They did not speak right away. They breathed very fast. They looked completely broken.
King Justin gripped the armrest of his wooden throne. His face turned pale. He looked at his greatest warriors. He counted them in his head. His eyes filled with immense, undeniable sorrow.
"Kaelen," King Justin whispered. His voice cracked with emotion. "Sylas. Brandon. Roger. You survived."
Grandmaster Kaelen slowly lifted his head. Tears streamed down his bruised face. He looked at his King.
"We survived, My Lord," Kaelen answered. His voice was incredibly weak. It lacked all of its usual confident energy. "We fought the Black Magicians. We fought the dark monsters. We tried to hold the line. But their magic was too strong. We failed you."
"You did not fail me," King Justin said softly. He stepped down from the throne. He walked over to his kneeling warriors. "You protected the citizens. You bought us time. But... where are the others?"
The throne room went completely silent. The silence was absolutely crushing.
Grandmaster Brandon stared at the marble floor. The tough earth mage squeezed his eyes shut. A single tear rolled down his dirty cheek.
"They are gone, My Lord," Brandon reported. His deep voice shook with profound grief. "Grandmaster Thomas fell at the outer gates. He used all his fire to protect the retreat. He did not make it. Grandmaster Alaric fell in the courtyard. Grandmaster Vance was struck by a dark spear in the lower halls."
Brandon took a slow, painful breath. He finished the terrible report.
"We lost them," Brandon sobbed quietly. "Out of our thirteen original Grandmasters... seven were killed in the assault. Seven of our brothers are dead. They sacrificed their lives to stop the dark army."
King Justin stopped walking. He stood frozen in the middle of the room. He brought his hands up to his face. He covered his eyes. He let out a loud, agonizing cry of pure despair.
The Crown Prince fell to his knees. He wept openly for the fallen heroes. The surviving Grandmasters cried silently. The immense loss was totally devastating. More than half of their elite protectors were wiped out in a single morning.
Ken Eliot stood quietly in his black cloak. He watched the tragic scene.
Inside his mind, the goofy, lazy slacker disappeared completely. Ken did not make a joke. He did not complain about his sore feet. He did not think about potato chips. He felt a very real, very deep sense of sympathy for the grieving men.
"Seven people died," Ken thought to himself. His internal voice was very calm, but it was very serious. "They lost their friends. They lost their family. They gave everything they had to protect their home. That is incredibly sad. I hate seeing people cry like this. It makes my chest feel very uncomfortable."
Ken thought about his own team. He thought about Naomi, Laxmi, Sayma, Zinia, Luna, Risa, Ira, and Olivia. He thought about their bright smiles and their loud laughter. He thought about how much he cared about them.
"If I ever lost seven of my friends, I would completely lose my mind," Ken realized silently. "I would burn the entire world to ash. These guys are being very brave just by standing here."
King Justin lowered his hands. His face looked ten years older. He looked at the six remaining Grandmasters.
"Seven," King Justin repeated weakly. He shook his head. "We have suffered a massive loss. Our military strength is entirely shattered. We cannot protect our borders. We cannot defend our citizens. If another rival nation attacks us tomorrow, we will fall completely. The Bluemoon Kingdom is totally defenseless."
Grandmaster Sylas pushed himself up. He stood on shaky legs. He looked at his King with desperate eyes.
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