(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Meanwhile, the Royal Knight squad dispatched by Darius moved quietly across the borderlands, disguising themselves as simple travelers.
Their mission was delicate:
Gather proof of corruption without drawing suspicion.
The first stop was Branfield Village,
A farming settlement of wheat and barley.
The squad split into pairs, each blending with the flow of the village.
As they passed through the market, they overheard farmers grumbling near the charred husks of grain silos.
"All gone in a single night… fire took everything,"
An old farmer muttered bitterly, his hands blackened from sifting ash.
"And the Crown still hasn't sent our compensation. What are we supposed to eat until next harvest?"
The second group moved toward Redvale,
A village known for its orchards.
The once lush groves now stood skeletal, blackened branches twisting upward like dead hands.
Smoke still clung to the air.
At the tavern, two drunk villagers argued heatedly.
"They promised us gold, didn't they? Where is it, then?!"
One slurred, slamming his mug down.
"Maybe the chiefs pocketed it,"
The other whispered, lowering his voice.
"I saw his son wearing a cloak finer than any noble's last week."
The final pair of knights infiltrated Dunwynn, a livestock village.
Here, the mood was even darker.
Cattle pens were scorched, and families huddled by ruined barns.
Mothers whispered to children about hunger.
In the square, an argument broke out between two men.
"We're starving while the chiefs sit fat in their manors! Don't tell me they didn't take the money meant for us."
"Quiet! Do you want to end up in the dungeon for speaking like that?"
As the disguised knights regrouped at nightfall in an abandoned barn,
Each reported hearing the same thing—
Rumors of gold never reaching the people.
The villagers' misery was real,
But their anger wasn't directed at the Crown…
It was turning toward their own leaders.
One knight clenched his fist.
"If this is true, then the chiefs burned their own land for coin. That's treason."
Their leader raised a hand.
"Careful. We're here to confirm, not act. Our King wants to handle them personally."
The barn grew silent,
"____"
"____"
"____"
The faint glow of embers outside casting shadows across their faces.
The truth was becoming clear.
Greed had driven these village heads to sacrifice their own people's livelihoods.
That night,
As the moon cast a pale glow over the charred farmlands,
The Royal Knight squad leader outlined the plan inside the abandoned barn.
"We move slow. One village at a time, three nights. Two shadows slip inside, the rest keep watch. No mistakes—we can't risk alerting them."
Night One...
Branfield...
Two knights, cloaked with concealment magic, scaled the back wall of Chief Halvern's manor.
Inside, the place reeked of luxury—
Silken rugs, imported wines, and gold ornaments that stood in stark contrast to the starving villagers outside.
They moved carefully, searching drawers and cabinets.
Finally, one knight pried open a locked chest beneath the bed.
Inside lay a ledger filled with strange entries:
"Payment from Crown – distributed to farms: none."
"Personal gain: 1,000 gold stored in southern vault."
The knight's jaw tightened.
"____"
This was the proof they needed.
He copied the entries onto a parchment, replaced the ledger, and slipped out unseen.
Night Two...
Redvale...
The second raid targeted Chief Mardon's orchard estate.
Unlike Halvern's, this one was guarded by men drinking at the front gate.
The knights slipped through a second-floor window, moving like ghosts.
Inside the study,
A half-burnt letter sat on the desk:
"—our plan worked better than expected. The fire spread fast. With Branfield's losses, no one will suspect us. Once the Crown delivers the coin, we split it four ways as agreed."
The knights exchanged grim looks.
"____"
"____"
This wasn't just greed—
It was conspiracy.
They carefully took the fragment of the letter and vanished into the night.
Night Three...
Dunwynn...
The final target was Chief Osric's hall,
A heavily fortified home surrounded by desperate villagers begging for scraps.
Slipping past the guards took longer,
But the knights eventually found the chief's personal chambers.
In a hidden compartment behind a wall painting,
They uncovered sacks of gold coins stamped with the royal crest.
Each bag bore markings proving it was part of the kingdom's relief funds.
The knights didn't touch the gold.
Instead, they left magical markers,
Ensuring only Ben would be able to reveal the stash publicly.
When the three days were done, the squad regrouped at the barn.
On the table lay the copied ledger,
The burned letter fragment,
And their report on the hidden vault.
The leader exhaled slowly.
"This is enough. They didn't just steal—they burned their own people's land to make it happen. Time to send word to His Majesty."
Outside, the night was silent,
But the weight of betrayal hung heavy in the air.
The squad captain opened his grimoire, pages fluttering as a surge of mana burst forth.
From the glowing script,
A majestic eagle of pure white feathers materialized, its wings spread wide, eyes glowing like molten gold.
Peeaaal!!!
The spirit gave a sharp cry that echoed through the barn rafters,
Making even the knights feel a shiver of reverence.
The captain unfurled a scroll and tied it carefully to the eagle's claw.
"Take this to Royal Knight Captain Darius. Fly without rest."
With another piercing cry,
The spirit launched skyward.
Its wings cut through the clouds,
Leaving a shimmering trail of silver wind-light across the night sky.
The knights watched until it vanished,
"____"
"____"
"____"
Knowing the evidence was now in safe hands.
Meanwhile,
In the three villages, the scene could not be more different.
Inside Chief Halvern's hall, wine poured into golden goblets.
Servants scurried about, roasting meat and laying out sweet pastries.
Laughter boomed as the three chiefs gathered, raising their cups high.
Clink~ Clink~
Chief Mardon, cheeks flushed from drink, slammed his goblet on the table.
"The letter from the Crown arrived at last! Compensation is coming. Soon the people will see us as their saviors again—just as we planned!"
Osric leaned back in his chair,
A smug grin tugging at his lips.
Grin~
"Fools, all of them. Burn their crops, cry to the King, then reap the rewards while we feast. That's the way of the world."
The three men clinked their goblets together, drunk on greed and victory.
Servants cheered with forced smiles,
Though their eyes betrayed silent resentment.
They had no idea that,
Far above their merriment, a glowing eagle streaked through the night sky—
Carrying with it the proof of their betrayal, the decree of their doom.
Within the Royal Knights' quarters, Captain Darius sat at his desk,
Buried in reports and maps, the quiet of the night broken only by the scratching of his quill.
Suddenly—
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A sharp, insistent knock came at the window.
"____"
Darius raised his head, frowning.
Frown~
Few dared disturb him at this hour.
Rising, he crossed the room and unlatched the window.
There, perched upon the sill, was a radiant eagle of pure white feathers and molten gold eyes, its wings folded neatly against its sides.
The faint hum of wind mana clung to it like a halo.
Darius's eyes narrowed slightly—
He recognized this spirit instantly.
"So… they've found something."
The eagle extended its beak, holding a tightly sealed scroll.
Darius accepted it with care, the wax crest confirming its sender.
He broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and read the contents in silence.
"____"
By the time he reached the final lines,
His expression had hardened.
His jaw tightened, and his eyes, normally calm and steady,
Gleamed with a sharp, dangerous light.
"So the chiefs truly played with fire…"
He muttered under his breath.
Without hesitation,
He reached for fresh parchment.
His hand moved swiftly, quill scratching against the page as he penned his reply.
The words were concise, the instructions clear:
"Maintain cover. Do not act. Await further orders. Their time will come soon."
He rolled the scroll and sealed it with his personal crest before tying it back to the eagle's claw.
The spirit gave a sharp cry, wings flaring as it leapt into the night, vanishing into the skies.
Darius returned to his desk, folding his hands as he leaned back in his chair.
His gaze was heavy, the weight of command pressing on his shoulders.
"____"
"We'll let the Crown decide their punishment… but this greed won't go unpunished."
Meanwhile, far from the political webs and hidden investigations,
Ben lay sprawled across the silken sheets of his royal chamber.
The soft glow of moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting a silver sheen over the room.
His breathing was steady, calm —
The deep rhythm of a man who,
At least for the moment, had found peace in sleep.
Curled against him, nestled on his broad chest, was Nero in her anti-bird form.
Her small feathers rose and fell with each breath Ben took, her head tucked snugly beneath her wing.
Since the day he had ascended to the throne,
She had become strangely possessive —
Refusing to leave his side at night.
While she was available.
Where others saw the King,
She saw only her Ben.
His chest had become her chosen perch, her "nest," and she guarded it jealously.
Even in her sleep, her talons curled lightly against the fabric of his robes, as though daring anyone to pull her away.
A faint, sleepy chirp escaped her as Ben shifted slightly, one arm instinctively wrapping over her as if to shield her tiny form.
The moonlight bathed them both,
A strange yet comforting sight —
The King of the Clover Kingdom and the little anti-bird who refused to give up her place at his heart.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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