AnimeMan: The 13th Princess’s Overpowered Servant

The television screen changed. The news anchors vanished. The broadcast showed live footage taken from a high-altitude scouting balloon.

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The 13th Unit stared at the screen. They could not believe their eyes.

The beautiful, green valley of the Bluemoon Kingdom was gone. The white stone walls of the capital city were gone. The grand royal palace was gone. The lush forests, the rivers, and the surrounding farm villages were completely erased from existence.

There was nothing left. Absolutely nothing.

The screen showed a gigantic, flat, endless wasteland of gray ash. The ground was scorched completely black. A massive, towering cloud of dark, toxic smoke hung in the sky. The smoke shaped itself into a horrific, gigantic mushroom cloud. The land looked like a dead, empty crater on the moon.

"It is gone," Laxmi whispered. The fiery girl dropped to her knees on the rug. Her golden eyes stared at the screen. The tough, excited warrior was totally broken. "An entire kingdom. Just gone."

Luna covered her mouth with both hands. Tears instantly flooded her sleepy eyes. She began to cry silently. Risa buried her face in Luna's shoulder and sobbed out loud. The sweet healer could not handle the sight of so much death.

"The destruction is absolute," Sarah’s weeping voice played over the horrific footage. "The intense heat reduced the stone buildings to dust. The radiation melted the very earth. Nothing could have survived that blast. Nothing."

***

The broadcast cut back to the news desk. Bob wiped his face with a trembling hand.

"The news of this attack is currently spreading rapidly across all international channels," Bob stated. His voice sounded totally numb. "The global response is massive. Every single nation on this continent is in a state of absolute uproar. The world leaders are panicking. The borders are locking down. The global markets are crashing."

The screen flashed quick clips of different capital cities. People were rioting in the streets. Foreign kings were shouting angrily in their throne rooms. The entire world was thrown into total, sudden chaos. The fear of the Solurious Thermal Weapon terrified everyone on the planet. Nobody knew who fired the weapon. Nobody knew who would be targeted next.

"We are receiving early estimates from the Imperial analysts," Sarah sobbed. She looked down at her desk. She could barely read the numbers. "Based on the population density of the Bluemoon capital and the surrounding hundred-mile radius... the casualty count is catastrophic."

The 13th Unit held their breath. They waited for the terrible number.

"Early estimates suggest at least five million casualties," Sarah cried loudly. "Five million innocent lives were lost in a single instant. Men, women, and children. The entire population of the kingdom was completely wiped out."

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Five million.

The number echoed through the cozy living room. It bounced off the dusty bookshelves. It hung in the warm morning air. It was a number so incredibly massive that the human brain could barely process it. Five million people. Five million lives ended in a flash of toxic light.

Princess Iris collapsed into a wooden chair. Her legs simply gave out. She stared blankly at the wooden floorboards. She felt entirely sick to her stomach. She remembered the smiling faces of the Bluemoon citizens. She remembered the brave grandmasters. They were all dead. Turned to gray ash.

"Five million," Sayma whispered. The intelligent Vice-Captain took off her thick glasses. Her hands shook violently. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "The math... the math is unimaginable. Entire generations. Erased."

Laxmi slammed her fists onto the rug. She did not summon any fire. Her magic completely failed her. She just cried. She felt so incredibly weak. She felt like all their hard work had meant absolutely nothing. They had fought so hard to stop this exact weapon. They had bled. They had suffered. And they still failed to save the world.

Zinia stood frozen by the window. The strong earth mage stared outside. She did not speak. Her jaw was clenched so tightly her teeth ached. She felt a profound, crushing sense of defeat.

Ira stood by the door. The water mage remained perfectly still. Her pale face showed zero emotion. But she slowly closed her eyes. She bowed her head. She processed the horrible statistics in her mind. The survival rate was zero percent. It was a flawless, absolute genocide.

Naomi felt a massive, suffocating block of ice form in her stomach.

She felt completely nauseous. The fierce vanguard leader could not stop her hands from trembling. She looked around the living room. Her friends were crying. Her Princess was broken. The safe, happy family they had built was totally shattered by the news on the television.

Naomi needed comfort. She needed someone to ground her. She needed the one person who always made the scary things feel small. She needed a goofy joke. She needed a silly complaint about the noise. She needed to hear about potato chips and naps.

Naomi slowly turned her head. She looked at the sofa.

Ken Eliot sat on the cushions. He still held the bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in his left hand. The half-eaten chocolate chip cookie rested on his leg.

But Ken was not slouching. Ken was not leaning back. Ken was sitting up perfectly straight.

He did not make a joke. He did not complain about the loud news anchors. He did not whine about the tragic story ruining his lazy morning.

Ken was completely, utterly silent.

Naomi stared at him. She expected to see his usual, sleepy dark eyes. She expected to see his lazy, goofy smile. She wanted him to say something ridiculous to break the intense, crushing mood in the room.

He said absolutely nothing.

Naomi looked directly into his eyes. She felt a sudden, massive shiver run entirely down her spine. The hair on her arms stood up.

Ken's dark eyes were not sleepy. They were not lazy. They were not warm.

His eyes were terrifyingly cold. They were sharp. They were completely empty of any human emotion. They looked like deep, dark, freezing voids. It was a chilling, absolute gaze. It was the look of a supreme predator. It was the look of a god who had just witnessed an unforgivable insult.

Naomi took a tiny step backward. She had never seen this expression on his face before. She did not understand what she was looking at. The lazy, messy boy was entirely gone. A cold, silent statue sat in his place.

Inside his mind, Ken Eliot was not panicked. He was not sad. He was not crying over the five million casualties. He was experiencing a feeling far more dangerous than grief. He was experiencing a cold, calculating, absolute fury.

He did not monologue internally about his massive strength. He did not brag about his god-like power. He simply analyzed the broken pieces of his flawless plan.

"I handled this," Ken thought. His internal voice was completely flat. It lacked any trace of his usual slacker humor. It sounded like freezing ice. "I sent Karna. I dealt with the dark mages. I sealed the seed. I let the corrupt politicians think they were safe. I set the board perfectly. I controlled every single variable."

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