The moment the words left Zeke's lips—descendants of the Eldian royal family—the atmosphere in the conference hall collapsed into chaos. Chairs scraped against the floor as officers and dignitaries leapt to their feet, voices overlapping in shock and alarm.
The Tybur family, seated stiffly along the side of the hall, felt the words cut like knives. Willy Tybur's face paled, his polished composure cracking as though the ground had been yanked out beneath him. The family that had long been erected neutrality and prestige in Marley now felt cornered, like a beast hunted with nowhere to run.
"A descendant of the royal family?" murmured one of the young recruits in disbelief. "Does that mean… he's our king?"
Bertolt's wide eyes betrayed both fear and awe.
Reiner, standing beside him, quickly cut him off, hissing through clenched teeth: "Don't say that! The Eldian Empire was destroyed long ago—there is no king."
"But… didn't the royal family survive? Didn't they retreat to the island?" Bertolt whispered.
Reiner's hand shot out, covering his friend's mouth. "Quiet! Those island devils have nothing to do with us! We are honorary Marleyans because we fight them. Don't ever speak of them as kings." His eyes darted around nervously, afraid someone had overheard.
Bertolt's muffled protest died in his throat.
Captain Marcel Galliard, jaw tightening, leaned in with a sharp whisper: "Enough, Bertolt. Our king is only the Marleyan king. Don't forget it."
The boys fell silent, though their eyes still flickered with doubt.
The conference room seethed with debate. Elders whispered about bloodlines. Officers muttered about loyalty and treachery. But in the midst of the storm, two faces—Lara Tybur and Annie Leonhart—remained unreadable.
The talk of kingship, inheritance, and politics slid off them like rain on stone. Neither appeared moved; they were warriors, not schemers.
Finally, Willy Tybur could no longer bear the mounting suspicion pressing against his family. He rose sharply, his voice slicing through the noise:
"Warrior Captain Zeke! Do not mock the royal bloodline. This claim is dangerous!"
"I swear before His Majesty King Marley," Zeke replied immediately, his voice steady, unwavering, "that I am not mocking anything. I am telling the truth."
The king, seated above them all, narrowed his eyes. "Zeke Yeager. You claim descent from the Eldian royal family. Do you have proof?"
Zeke's tone remained calm, almost casual. "In my home there is a hidden compartment beneath the third floor tile. Inside rests a necklace, once belonging to the Eldian royal family. That is my evidence."
The chamber buzzed like a nest of hornets.
Willy's voice rose, almost shrill with urgency: "If you are truly of the royal family, then why remain silent until now? Why reveal it here, at this moment? I say you intend to go to Paradis not to serve Marley, but to seize the Founding Titan for yourself—and restore the tyranny of the Eldian Empire! Your Majesty, this man is a threat. He must be executed immediately!"
A gasp rippled across the room.
Zeke's expression did not waver. If anything, his lips curled faintly in disdain. Execute me? Foolish man. Marley would sooner erase your entire family than waste the last hope of royal blood.
He understood the truth: the royal bloodline was priceless. Marley lusted for the Founding Titan's power, but without royal descent it was shackled. That meant he, Zeke, was irreplaceable. Even if he turned traitor, even if he committed the gravest crimes, they could not kill him—not without first ensuring his bloodline endured.
He was a living key. A golden ticket to survival.
The king's gaze lingered on him, heavy with suspicion. "Zeke… you claim ignorance of this heritage until now. Why should I believe you discovered it only yesterday?"
Zeke met his eyes without blinking. "Because it is the truth. Had I not lifted that tile last night, I would never have known. My life, my loyalty, has always belonged to Marley. That has never changed."
The king hesitated, caught between the lure of Zeke's words and the stench of risk they carried.
"Your Majesty!" Willy's desperation rang louder now, fueled by terror. "Remember the nightmare of a hundred years ago, when the Titans trampled the world beneath their feet! Do not let history repeat itself! Execute him—before it's too late!"
The king raised a hand, silencing the chamber. His voice was cool, deliberate. "Zeke Yeager will not be executed. He will be detained until his claims can be verified."
A gesture from him was enough. Guards strode forward and seized Zeke's arms, binding them behind his back.
Zeke did not resist. Instead, he spoke clearly, directing his words to the king as if the ropes were nothing but a formality,
"Your Majesty, if you send children to claim the Founding Titan, there is a risk greater than failure. The Founding Titan could command them. Only I—of royal blood—can seize its power safely. I can ensure it returns to Marley. Please weigh this carefully. It is not just loyalty I offer, but necessity."
The king's frown deepened, but he gave a slow nod.
As Zeke was escorted out, Willy's voice cracked with hysteria. "Your Majesty! Don't be deceived! Execute him, or Marley will suffer as humanity once did! He will doom us all!"
But the king's reply came, calm and resolute:
"Zeke Yeager is loyal. Of all men, he is loyal beyond question. Did he not turn in his own parents to prove it? He will never betray Marley."
The words echoed in the hall, leaving Willy pale and trembling.
Zeke, led away by the guards, allowed himself the faintest of smiles.