The Violet Lightning Empress Dons Golden Armor and Dotes on Her Sole Servant - The Royal Capital Ablaze

The sky over the royal capital Granseid was burning red. No, that wasn't it. It wasn't the sky that was burning. Pillars of flame rising from all across the castle town were dyeing the veil of night in vermilion. As if the city itself had transformed into a colossal crucible, scorching winds raged over the cobblestones, and a rumble like the groaning of the earth—screams and furious shouts mingled together—reached beyond the outer walls, all the way to the heart of the royal castle. Victoria Valentine gazed down upon that clamor from high ground. To the northeast of the royal capital, atop a small hill overlooking the noble district. It was the place where the detached residence of the Valentine ducal estate had once stood. Now reduced to nothing but scorched earth, she stood there alone, together with Kuro. Each time the wind blew, her golden hair—reaching down to her waist—danced upward. Her hair, an irregular blend of curls and straight strands, caught the light of the flames and shone like molten gold. Her violet eyes quietly reflected the hell spreading below. "It's begun." Her voice was so clear it refused to be drowned out by the surrounding din. Kuro stood at attention one step behind her. His short black hair was tousled by the wind, his bangs falling over his sharp eyes. He said nothing, simply gazing at her back. In his left ear, in place of a silver earring, a small golden hair ornament swayed. It was the same golden hair ornament Victoria had once used to tie up her own hair. "Just as calculated, I suppose." At her words, Kuro gave a small nod. "Yes. According to Felnak's report, seven mansions of the four great ducal houses have already been set ablaze, and the number of commoners has exceeded six thousand." "I see. The numbers are sufficient." Victoria slowly exhaled. Her white breath melted into the scorching wind and vanished. "Has the medical team already entered?" "Yes. Three hours ago, all thirty members entered through the west service gate of the royal castle. They are currently stationed around the prince's bedchamber under the pretense of 'treatment.' The castle's interior layout, the royal guards' patrol routes, the gaps in the magical barrier—all of it is being reported in sequence." Victoria's lips twisted faintly. "It's about time that man notices something is wrong with his own body. The poison in that ring dissolves into the blood every time it's exposed to light. He may laugh elegantly during the day, but once night falls... well." She gently raised the fingertips of her right hand. That poisoned ring was no longer on her finger. She had already finished giving it to the person it was meant for. Kuro unconsciously reached for his left ear. He touched the golden hair ornament. The last time she had given that ring to that man, when she had returned home, she had said this: "No matter how filthy I become, will you stay by my side?" Even now, it lingered in his ears. "...Yes. I will never go anywhere." Quietly, but clearly, Kuro answered. Victoria did not turn around. But at his voice, she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. "It's because you're here that I can stand in this place." The wind carried those words away. —At that time, on the top floor of the royal castle, Selvan Palace. The bedchamber of the first prince, Leonhart Valmheit, was wrapped in an eerie stillness. Outside the window, the uprising of the commoners blazed, and cries like distant thunder could be heard—yet within this room alone, sound felt distant, as if submerged at the bottom of the sea. Upon the canopied bed, Leonhart gasped in agony. His golden hair, which seemed to have gathered sunlight itself, clung to his forehead with sweat, and his once immaculate hairstyle had collapsed pitifully. The face that usually wore a sweet smile capable of captivating anyone was now twisted in pain, pale, and—horrifyingly—purple blotches had risen to the surface. From his neck to his cheeks, from the backs of his hands to his chest, purple discoloration spread in clusters beneath his skin. It was as though his skin was revealing to the outside world the rot progressing within him. "Guh... ugh... Someone... is there no one...!" That elegant oratorical tone he used in public had vanished completely. A low voice, wrenched from his throat. A wheezing sound leaked from his parched throat. Around the bed, a group clad in white robes stood waiting. Thirty people in total. They all wore deep hoods that concealed half their faces. In their hands they held medicine jars, compresses, and cases of acupuncture needles—at a glance, they appeared to be a venerable royal medical team, summoned from somewhere. But beneath those robes were the resolute expressions of those who had been picked up by Victoria as freed slaves. The beastkin girl who had nearly been branded on Carneo's auction block, the boy who had nearly had his organs sold, the commoner woman who had sold herself into debt—all of them now wore the masks of physicians, standing at the prince's bedside. "Your Highness, please remain calm. We are cooling your body to prevent the poison from spreading." One man said quietly as he pressed a cold cloth to the prince's forehead. "Silence! Poison, you say?! I've been poisoned?! Who is responsible—who—guh, gah!" His throat, trying to shout, made a sharp wheeze and failed to form words. The purple blotches grew darker still. "Your Highness, please be still. Remember that ring—the one gifted to you by a friend. It was a beautiful ring, wasn't it? That ring is carefully killing you from the inside." The woman's voice was far too cold for a physician's. Leonhart's eyes darted wildly. "Th-the ring... that woman... that woman in the black dress... don't tell me, that woman...!" He looked at the ring finger of his right hand. In place of the engagement ring he had once tried to give Victoria and been refused, a different ring now sat there. The ring that the woman in the jet-black dress—the one he had met at the evening ball—had gently slipped onto his finger. That ring with its beautiful golden craftsmanship. "Take it off! Take this ring off! Right now!" Leonhart thrashed, trying to pull the ring off. But for some reason, the ring would not move past his knuckle. It clung tightly, as if it had taken root in his skin. "It's useless. It was custom-made by that person. It was not designed to come off." At those words, Leonhart's face was dyed with terror. "Wh-what are you people...! You're no physicians, are you?! Who are you! Who gave you your orders!" The medical team gave no answer. They simply observed the prince's condition in silence, recorded it, and continued sending reports outside. That silence only fanned the prince's fear further. "Don't abandon me! Someone—call Sieg! Where is Sieg! The royal guards?! Do you people know who I am?! I am the one who will rule this country! I'll crucify every last one of you upside down!!" His screams mingled with the screams outside the window and faded away. —Nevallow, First Layer, the Gray Market. That dim passageway, usually bustling with stolen goods and contraband, was tonight overflowing with something else entirely. Laughing like a ringing bell, Felnak toyed with a single slip of paper in his palm. His long hair, streaked with white, made a dry sound even in the humid air. His blinded left eye was clouded white, while the gold of his remaining right eye swept over the shadows lurking in the corners of the market. "Here now, these are the crimes of the four great ducal houses. Shall I read them aloud? Duke Orcott strangled a prostitute and threw her into the river. Duke Melvin embezzled military rations during the war to line his own pockets. Duke Falken packed beastkin orphans into barrels and sold them on the black market. And to finish, Duke Krantz covered up the rape of a five-year-old girl." Felnak fluttered the slip of paper. "Human greed runs deeper than shadow. Under the light they play at being saints, but throw them into darkness and they expose their true nature in an instant. —Now then, scatter these across the entire capital. It is the command of the Lady of Lightning. Every last sheet, now." The underlings gathered around him moved swiftly into action. Remnants of the Silent Fang, former bookmakers of the Golden Dice, former members of the Dream Society, and freed slaves. All of them had been baring fangs at one another until just days ago. Now, under the name of a single empress, they all faced the same direction. Felnak flicked the paper with a snap. "The human heart is like a shadow. Shine light upon it and it vanishes; only in darkness does it reveal its shape. Tonight, the capital burns well. After all, we've released the darkness of the commoners—darkness that's been locked away for over a decade—all at once." A faint tremor ran through the market's ceiling. Above, on the surface, hatred was exploding at this very moment. Fires were rising throughout the capital. The bulletin boards of the noble district, the markets of the outer city, the gates of the Gratis Shrine, Brigant Street leading to the harbor—everywhere in the royal capital Granseid, slips of paper detailing the crimes of the four great ducal houses were posted. Whether one could read or not, as soon as someone read them aloud, the crimes spread from person to person like a contagion. "Duke Orcott, his daughter—" "Duke Melvin, during the war, the rations—" "No way, that duke—" "Shut up! My wife, in that mansion—" Rumors traveled faster than flames, and rage weighed heavier than heat. Men who had long suffered under the nobles' tyranny rose up, gripping hoes and clubs. Women who had lost their husbands picked up stones and screamed. In the eastern district of the outer city, where the beastkin lived, clashes between soldiers and commoners had already begun. "Kill all the nobles!" "Give me back my daughter! The daughter you sold to that brothel—give her back!" "Let's go! Let's pay the duke's mansion a little visit!" Angry shouts. Explosions. Footsteps crushing cobblestones. Window glass shattered, furnishings were hurled into the streets, barrels toppled and cheap liquor spread the flames. The royal capital Granseid was, in the blink of an eye, engulfed in the smell of fire, smoke, and blood. And then, Victoria began to move. "Let's go, Kuro." "At your command." She took a step forward from the top of the hill. Her appearance was nothing less than that of an empress descending onto the battlefield. Only her golden bikini stood out against the darkness of the night, and her entire body was faintly wreathed in golden light. Above her left breast, the lightning crest of the Valentine family pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Her golden hair, reaching to her waist, rippled in the wind. A defenseless, nearly naked figure. The only thing covering her bare body was that cursed golden bikini. But what dwelled within that form was overwhelming power and a sharpened will for revenge. Kuro walked half a step behind her. In his hands were a small piece of parchment and a charcoal pencil for recording her. Normally tools for gathering information, tonight he had brought them to record her triumphant return. The main gate of the royal castle drew near. Before the main gate of Selvan Palace. Two hundred royal guard knights were already waiting for her. These were the regular royal guards of the palace, separate from the Kagra Guard. Clad in silver armor with longswords at the ready, they held the gate. On their faces floated confusion, fear, and a grim determination to carry out their duty. "Halt! Advance any further and we will cut you down as a rebel!" The knight at the front shouted. Victoria did not stop walking. "A rebel, is it." Her lips curved into a faint smile. "If I'm a rebel, then what does that make your prince? Well, no matter. Open the way. If you won't open it—" She slowly swept her rig

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Episode 6

Name: The Violet Lightning Empress Dons Golden Armor and Dotes on Her Sole Servant
Author: Novelia

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