#741 (Patreon)

Chaos (2)

It was an ordinary day, like any other.  

Even though Holy law had vanished from the world, warlocks rampaged, apocalyptic rumors subtly spread, and even the queen had collapsed.  

Still, life moved on relatively normally.  

No matter how chaotic the world became, inertia persisted—it was a kind of natural phenomenon.  

Just like the gloomy skies of England... although today, they seemed especially dreary. Yet, it was, all things considered, an ordinary day.  

Until it wasn’t.  

Crackle—!  

A sound from the radio shattered the word "ordinary" into pieces.  

An unpleasant crackling noise, like some abhorrent feast, consumed the regular broadcast. A warning siren heralding unwanted truths spilled through the speakers.  

“......”  

Unbelievably, as the sound echoed through the kingdom's capital, an eerie silence descended, muting all human voices.  

It was a collective trauma—a scar etched deep into the psyche.  

A wound from past experiences that refused to heal, leaving behind lingering reminders of its impact.  

And that feeling wasn’t misplaced.  

As the static subsided, an unidentified voice emerged from the radio, delivering a story no one had asked for—but one that couldn’t be ignored.  

[The following information is true. Crown Prince Edward is plotting to sacrifice the capital in its entirety as an offering to secure eternal life, wealth, and glory by allying with a warlock. Once again, this is not fiction. The information you're hearing is entirely true...]  

It was a direct accusation that Crown Prince Edward X had formed a pact with Puppet and was preparing for a ritual of horrifying proportions.  

The broadcast felt eerily similar to the intercepted conversation between Brigadier General Billy of the Royal Army and a solver named Woodsman Dave, which had been transmitted across the entire United Kingdom just days earlier.  

And like that incident, this new message appeared to be an extension of the same story—though the details were far more shocking.  

Unlike vague accusations of mere cooperation, this broadcast detailed a specific, sinister plan to sacrifice the entire capital.  

“What... What is this...?”  

“Another prank? Who's behind this nonsense?”  

“Don’t the police have anything better to do?”  

“Exactly... Especially while the Queen is unwell, how can this be happening?”  

The people's reactions mirrored those from before.  

In the royalist stronghold of the capital, most dismissed the broadcast as nonsense.  

Though some worried individuals existed, the majority didn't take it seriously.  

The capital, after all, was the heartland of royal loyalty, and with the Queen in a fragile state, showing concern over such "nonsense" felt unthinkable for those who prided themselves as loyal subjects.  

They considered it disgraceful and disloyal to be swayed by such slander.  

And so, they tried to ignore it.  

Or, more accurately, they intended to ignore it.  

But they couldn’t.  

Because the broadcast became harder and harder to dismiss.  

[We understand this is difficult to believe. But what I say is undeniably true. The unholy alliance between Puppet and the Crown Prince, along with their vile conspiracy, is real. They frequently convene at the Patriots’ Club...]  

The voice, accusing the Prince and Puppet of collusion, didn’t stop at baseless claims.  

It provided shockingly specific details—their meeting locations, schedules, and key figures involved.  

Even those who tried to brush it off couldn’t help but be drawn back to the story.  

And then, the broadcast delivered an undeniable punctuation mark, something no one could ignore.  

[The Crown Prince plans to sacrifice the capital and its citizens to gain eternal youth, wealth, and power. Citizens, hear me! Believe my words! The Prince’s scheme has already begun! As the first step, he has exploited orphans and prostitutes to inflict—]  

“Aaaahhh!!”  

The desperate cry from the radio was abruptly drowned out by someone’s scream.  

The reason for the scream?  

“Fire! Fire! A fire has broken out!!”  

Sudden, sporadic fires erupted throughout the capital.  

“Water! Somebody fetch water—contact the fire brigade!”  

“The flames aren’t dying down!”  

“Who could’ve done this?! Who—?!”  

An elderly man, staring at a burning building, wailed toward the heavens, his voice trembling with despair.  

It was a terrifyingly accurate assessment.  

As the broadcast played, fires broke out simultaneously across the city. They weren’t natural but man-made. And "man-made" meant someone was behind them. The question was: who?  

Fortunately—or unfortunately—this question was soon answered, through the outcry of a young man pointing a trembling finger.  

“There! Over there! Those kids set the fires! What was on the radio—it’s true! The prince is using orphans to start the fires!!”  

At his words, a crowd that had been wavering between suspicion, anxiety, confusion, worry, and fear suddenly found its direction. Their emotions ignited into anger, and they shouted as one.  

Then, in a violent surge, they rushed toward the orphans suspected of setting the fires.  

Not just in one place, or two, but in most of the areas where the fires had broken out.  

Just like the flames spreading, the people's anger, hatred, and madness quickly consumed the entire city, faster than the fires themselves.  

Soon, that frenzy filled the heart of the kingdom, its capital, more thoroughly than the flames could ever have.  

Amidst all this, no one noticed how much darker and gloomier the skies over the capital had become.  

***

“Chaos, isn’t it?”  

“Sure is.”  

In the deepest underground chambers at the center of the United Kingdom’s capital, Puppet and Lilith sat across a long table, exchanging brief words.  

Lilith was occupying the body of Gretel, the most powerful and beautiful Corpse doll Puppet had ever created.  

Meanwhile, Puppet, still suffering from the aftermath of his fight with Oliver, had taken control of a frail, old Corpse doll with wispy gray hair and a thin mustache—one that looked utterly harmless and powerless.  

Lilith rested her hand on the Corpse doll’s shoulder, showing Puppet the chaos unfolding in the capital above.  

The sight of people panicking from the broadcast, orphans setting fires, and the resulting mayhem and fury consuming the city was on full display.  

It seemed sudden, but in truth, it wasn’t.  

Though life had appeared normal, inertia had merely masked the fractures already present.  

People had ignored the cracks out of helplessness and fear of the unknown.  

But all it took was a slight push to widen those fractures and break their ordinary lives entirely—easily, effortlessly.  

“Slipping a few Corpse dolls among the orphans to start fires turned out better than expected. I didn’t think people would actually try to kill them all. I have to admit, it’s an effective method,” Lilith said, breaking the silence.  

“And why orphans, of all people?”  

“...Because they’re easy targets,” Puppet replied, his voice hoarse and cracked, like an old man on the brink of death.  

Lilith wondered whether it was due to the nature of the Corpse doll or Puppet’s own condition.  

“Humans are clever creatures,” Puppet continued. “They channel their anger selectively, choosing targets based not on who’s truly at fault but on who’s easiest to attack. It’s not about justice but about convenience—whether venting their rage will cause them trouble or not.”  

“So, they’re going mad at the orphans because they’re easy prey?”  

“Exactly... Orphans are weak, have no protectors, and are often seen as dirty, surviving on begging or theft. To people, they’re the perfect outlet for both physical and emotional frustration. Convenient in every way... Does this bother you?”  

Puppet turned to Lilith, asking if the situation—sacrificing innocent orphans as kindling for their plan—bothered her.  

Lilith hesitated to answer, and Puppet interpreted her silence as its own kind of response. In a tone that was almost apologetic, he explained:  

“Try to understand. Before the ritual can begin, the heart of this sinful city must be thoroughly heated. From my experience, this is the most reliable method.”  

Lilith finally spoke.  

“I don’t understand. I’m not someone who can just overlook such things.”  

At her words, Puppet turned his head slightly but then averted his gaze.  

“Then, so be it. Now, could you let go of my shoulder? It seems we have a guest.”  

As if to confirm his words, a loud noise echoed from the sole entrance to the underground chamber.  

“Damn it all!!”  

The sound was both a curse and a scream—a voice filled with the unbridled self-centeredness of someone who believed the world revolved around them.  

The curse, “Damn it all!!” echoed through the underground chamber, fading only as its owner arrived.  

His name was Edward.  

Edward X.  

“Puppet! What the hell is the meaning of all this?!”  

In his childhood, he was the darling of the kingdom, and in his youth, his appearance alone had earned him recognition. Yet now, a man of striking looks and royal blood shouted in a shrill, petulant tone that clashed with both his handsome visage and his status as a prince.  

Puppet lied immediately.  

“What are you talking about, my prince?”  

Of course, the lie didn’t work.  

“Don’t play dumb! Do I look like an idiot to you?! Stop this nonsense right now!!”  

The prince, who had recently cultivated a relaxed, jovial, and dignified demeanor, completely abandoned his act and screamed at the top of his lungs.  

Puppet and Lilith watched him quietly. It was a scene they had seen far too often.  

Pretending to be composed, cheerful, and important, but throwing tantrums and whining the moment something displeased him—this was Edward X to a tee. Managing him wasn’t difficult, as they’d learned long ago.  

However, today was a special day, so Puppet decided to take a different approach.  

“What seems to be the problem?”  

“What...?”  

“I asked, what is the problem, my prince? After all, the deed is already done, is it not?”  

The atmosphere shifted. Even the self-absorbed prince seemed to sense something amiss, his manner growing slightly more cautious.  

“You mean to say...?”  

“Don’t be afraid, my prince. I merely suggest that you think calmly. After all, wasn’t the goal to bring about the end of days?”  

“But Albert fled, didn’t he? You said it was better to have at least one prince alive!”  

“That’s true. But he didn’t flee.”  

“What nonsense are you spouting now? Your men let him escape!”  

“He didn’t escape. He merely left the palace. He’s still in the capital, so he hasn’t been ‘lost.’ After all, the entire capital is like a pile of firewood. Whether the kindling is placed in the center or at the outskirts makes little difference. It’s better in the center, of course, but it changes nothing if it’s elsewhere.”  

The prince fell silent. It wasn’t that Puppet’s logic had convinced him but rather that his lack of understanding rendered him speechless.  

Puppet had deliberately refrained from explaining the ritual in detail, and Edward hadn’t bothered to ask. That was how he had lived his life—as a crown prince who could afford ignorance.  

And so, Edward X chose to focus on a different issue.  

“Is that why you’ve been so calm about everything? Even so, you should have informed me first! Do you have any idea what’s happening outside right now?!”  

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve erred. My judgment must have been clouded by the events in Landa. Please forgive me...”  

Puppet offered an apology, bowing respectfully. Though, it was only an act.  

Under normal circumstances, Edward would have let it go at that. But this time, he didn’t. His perception of his own authority felt threatened.  

“This is unacceptable. How dare you proceed with such a plan without my permission?! Do you know how much damage my reputation has suffered because of this? Do you even understand the state of the capital?!”  

“The way people see you, my prince, will resolve itself once the ritual is complete. The chaos in the capital will never pose a threat to you. Still, I suppose that’s not the answer you were hoping for.”  

Puppet’s sharp, discerning gaze, honed by centuries of life and a warlock’s eye, bore into the prince.  

The prince acknowledged his point.  

“Fine. You’re the problem here. Don’t forget our agreement.”  

“I pledged to serve you in my quest to become human, my prince.”  

“And you’ve done well. Remarkably so. But now you’ve overstepped your bounds.”  

“This was a necessary measure. I’m in a bit of a hurry due to my condition. Still, everything that’s happened was a required step.”  

“But there’s such a thing as order. And in this kind of situation, order matters even more.”  

As Edward X finished his sentence, the air rippled, and numerous figures appeared through the distorted space.  

They were druids and traditionalist mages allied with the royal family, as well as senior members of the Pinkmen—those who had joined the prince’s faction through Puppet. They were beings promised survival and new opportunities in the coming apocalypse.  

But now, these very people had turned against Puppet, aligning themselves behind the prince.  

“I think it’s time we reevaluate our relationship—”  

“Pffft... Hahaha!”  

Edward’s words were cut off by Puppet’s sudden, derisive laughter.  

The interruption turned Edward’s face bright red, his expression hardening in anger at the unprecedented insult.  

But Puppet didn’t care. If anything, this reaction confirmed everything he needed to know about the prince and his followers.  

“You’re all scared. Terrified... The prince and every last one of you. You’re not angry—you’re afraid to take the final step.”  

“...”  

“Well, it’s no surprise. It’s a common reaction. When you’re starving, you think you can do anything. But as soon as you’ve eaten just a little, fear creeps in, and you hold back. I don’t blame you. God designed humans well. Of course, there are always exceptions...”  

The air grew tense as Lilith, standing behind Puppet, and the druids, mages, and other magic users behind Edward X subtly lowered their stances, as if ready to pounce at any moment.  

A heavy silence descended.  

“You disgraced yourself in Randa, humiliated beyond words. Are you sure you’re up for this?” Edward X spoke, breaking the stillness. He hadn’t come here out of mere irritation—he had calculated his move.  

Puppet had grown weak, and Edward believed that, with most of Puppet’s allies having defected to his side, they could easily overpower him.  

The problem, however, was the phrase “his calculation.”  

“Thank you for your concern, my prince. But I’m fine. I always have a backup plan, you see. Isn’t that right?”  

Puppet, frail and visibly weakened, turned his gaze to one side as he spoke.  

Everyone in the chamber instinctively followed Puppet’s line of sight.  

At the end of their collective gaze stood a crimson figure.  

Crowned with a thistle wreath, wielding a jagged, flesh-like sword, and covered in splotchy, discolored skin, the crimson figure stood silently among the druids, mages, and magic users, as though it had always been there.  

Without a word, the figure raised its sword and swung.  

In an instant, every person in the underground chamber—save for Edward X, Puppet, and Lilith—was silenced.