The World Is Mine For The Taking

Three months had passed since then.

In that short span of time, the world had begun to shift.

The Principality of Cohona was no more.

It had been officially and utterly erased from the map by the relentless, iron hand of the Republic of Andras.

It wasn't just a conquest.

It was a massacre.

One of the bloodiest and most brutal military takeovers recorded in history.

Almost half of Cohona's population had been executed where they stood—men, women, children—it didn't matter.

And those unfortunate enough to be captured weren't spared either.

They were lined up, trembling and broken, and gunned down in cold blood by organized firing squads that showed no hesitation.

What remained of the principality was reduced to smoldering ashes and silence.

The balance of global power trembled.

A new monster had stepped onto the stage.

Small countries began to shake, like prey sensing the arrival of a predator.

Fear was no longer paranoia.

It was logical.

The world wasn't changing rapidly, but it was undeniably changing, and no one could stop it.

***

King Bethlan's POV

The news struck me like a hammer blow to the chest.

The Principality of Cohona was gone now. Just like that. Replaced by a rising republic forged through blood. The Republic of Andras.

And with that, the delicate equilibrium between nations teetered.

For years, the Empire of Rodonia had been pressing forward, seeking expansion and dominion, but it had always been contained—barely—by the Kingdom of Milham and her allies.

But now, another wolf had entered the pen. And this one was hungrier. And unpredictable.

I had learned the details... the horrifying details. The Republic of Andras was not born out of diplomacy or rebellion. It rose from a single man who have the name Andras. A name that would now echo in the history books alongside the worst tyrants.

He seized power in a single, bloody night.

Usurping the throne, executing the prince publicly, butchering the royal guards with mechanical precision.

Then came the purge.

Anyone who even thought about resisting was dragged into the streets and slaughtered. The streets of Cohona ran red, and the stench of death clung to the wind.

And worst of all... the bodies. Not even afforded the dignity of burial. They were stacked like firewood, doused in fuel, and set ablaze. As if their lives had never mattered in the first place.

It was the single largest mass execution since the bloodbath of the 100-Year War.

And though my heart ached with sympathy and fury, I had no luxury to grieve. My kingdom was fracturing from within. There were insurgencies that I have to crush, and rebellions to silence.

Still… above all else, I just prayed—

Please, let my daughter be safe.

***

Leon's POV

I was sitting inside the academy, but it felt more like being trapped inside a pressure cooker.

It wasn't just this place—hell, the entire kingdom felt tense.

You could feel the weight of anxiety in the air.

From nobles to commoners, from scholars to street kids—everyone was on edge.

And how could they not be?

Three months had passed since the fall of Cohona, and in that time, the foundation of the world had shifted beneath our feet.

A newly declared republic had risen.

But it wasn't "new" in the real sense. The current leader just usurped the throne, murdered the prince in front of a crowd, and rebranded the nation.

Now it was a militaristic democratic republic.

They said it had millions of soldiers stationed nearby.

But numbers weren't the scary part.

It was the automatas.

Zoey told me that man—Andras—had begun mass-manufacturing artificial soldiers.

Machines with no souls.

No hesitation.

Just cold logic and firepower.

An army that didn't need rest.

Didn't need morale.

Just orders.

It wouldn't be a war between countries.

It would be a war between flesh and machine.

"War, huh? I'm kinda scared..." someone next to me muttered.

That someone had the same black hair and red eyes as me. Except she was a girl.

Estelle.

She was one of the fragments of Lilith, created after Lilith was defeated.

I was one of her fragments too. That's why we looked so alike.

You could say we're brother and sister.

"Milham's getting ready for it. They're doing everything they can to stop that country from invading. The Empire's watching closely too. As powerful as Andras is, they can't afford to make a move with this many pieces in play." I told her. "Yes, war's coming. But right now, this is still the calm before the storm. It feels like peace, but that's only on the surface."

"Hmmm... I see..." Estelle murmured, her voice casual, almost sleepy. She bit into her bread, chewing slowly. Then she looked at me. "You're going to do something about it, right?"

I glanced at her. "Of course, I will," I replied with calm certainty. "Everything is already in motion. All we need now… is time."

***

Myrcella's POV

I slammed the stack of documents onto the long marble table with enough force to make the pens jump.

The administrators seated across from me flinched, looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

They stared as though I had gone mad.

Completely, irreversibly mad.

"Princess," one of them began, his voice stiff with restrained annoyance, "while what you're proposing sounds… ideal in theory, we simply cannot approve it."

He adjusted his glasses with a sigh and leaned forward.

"If we allowed every student in this academy to become a magic knight upon graduation, it would unravel the very foundation we built this institution on."

The others nodded in agreement, their eyes sharp and judging.

"The entire point of our system—the grading, the rankings—is to fuel ambition. To make students push themselves beyond their limits to earn something. What you're proposing is to rip that away and hand out rewards like free candy to anyone who shows up."

"So then… you're suggesting the kingdom should just collapse?" I said coldly, my voice echoing off the stone walls of the meeting chamber.

My eyes were locked on his.

"You're putting words in my mouth, Princess," he retorted, his tone laced with frustration. "I never once said the kingdom should fall."

"Maybe not in words—but your intentions are loud and clear. You're basically implying that we should give up on improving ourselves. That we should keep letting the academy choose magic knights based solely on class—only allowing those from the Gold Class to carry the kingdom's sword. If we continue like this, we'll end up weakened before we even realize it."

My voice rose. "But if we open the doors wider—if we allow every graduate who qualifies to become a magic knight—the number we produce yearly would quadruple. Quadruple! Do you understand what that means? That's not just a number—it's more swords on the field, more shields on the wall, more magic burning through the sky when we need it most."

I took a breath.

"We are staring down the barrel of annihilation. Three colossal threats are already knocking at our gates. First, the disturbing behavior from Hell that's been escalating for years. Then, the looming invasion from the Empire, and the rise of the newly formed Republic of Andras. You really think we can afford to stay still while the world burns around us?"

One of the older administrators grumbled under his breath and scratched the back of his head, trying to hide his discomfort.

"No matter what, even if you're royalty, we can't just throw away a tradition that's lasted for a century. It's... it's too sudden. Even if your argument is logical, it's still illogical—and unacceptable!" His voice cracked near the end, like he didn't even believe himself anymore.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that almost destroyed the Holy City."

They all froze.

"The High Priests refused to adapt. They were so addicted to their own pride and stubbornness that they let their people die screaming. They clung to their holy traditions like a drowning man to a stone—and where did that get them?"

My voice quieted, but the weight behind it only grew heavier.

"Is that what you want for us? When death comes knocking, will you answer the door with your pride in hand, thinking it'll protect you? Or will you open your eyes and see that change—real change—is the only way we survive?"

The administrators fell into an uneasy silence. Some shifted in their chairs. One clenched his fist. But no one said a word.

"I'm not saying we throw away our traditions like garbage," I continued, softer now—but no less fierce. "I'm saying we evolve. I'm saying we adapt to survive."

I reached forward, picking up the thick bundle of documents they had refused to even glance at, and raised them in front of their faces like a sword laid on the table.

"What I'm proposing is a path—a realistic, merit-based system that allows more students a chance to fight for their future."

This wasn't some free handout. It wasn't charity. It was a challenge.

The proposal laid out in those pages didn't say that anyone could become a magic knight just by showing up. No, it demanded excellence. Only those who managed to score above 85% in all categories—physical prowess, magical capability, and academic knowledge—would qualify. It was still a difficult bar, but it wasn't a privilege reserved for the Gold Class alone.

I looked around the room, eyes meeting each stiff, unsure face.

"If we give our students a real chance, they won't give up early. They won't lose their drive when they see they've been locked out of a dream just because they weren't born at the top."

My voice settled into a solemn conviction.

"If we do this, we're not just giving hope to them—we're giving strength to the kingdom."