Golden Butterfly – Part 04
In the Kingdom of Sauville, the people’s hope for peace went unfulfilled.
Several weeks had passed since the conversation between Ms. Cecile and the elderly gardener in the serene garden of Saint Marguerite Academy.
Noon.
In the heart of the capital Saubreme, within the royal palace, high-ranking government officials had assembled, creating a throng that spilled out from the conference room. Despite the crowd, an unsettling hush enveloped the palace. No one dared to speak, not even a whisper.
In the courtyard, the Royal Knights stood in formation under the deep blue sky. Several massive barrage balloons hovered above the royal palace.
Within the palace’s conference room, King Rupert, garbed in formal attire, was hanging his head. His face was pale. Officials from the Academy of Science flanked him, urging him about something. They seemed to be showing him a draft for his speech.
Radio broadcasting equipment had been set up in a small, adjoining room. A person glanced at the clock.
On this very day, as rumors circulating throughout the land had foretold, the Kingdom of Sauville was poised to join the war. An army from a distant continent across the seas aimed to breach the country’s borders from the Italian side. The period of passive observation had long since elapsed.
Just as the international student from the Far East had muttered in the carriage, the conflict did not limit itself to one area. Like a voracious wildfire, it had spread globally, engulfing all under its malevolent glow. And now it was threatening to devour the Kingdom of Sauville.
The Academy of Science recommended continued observation, while the Ministry of the Occult called for direct engagement. As the inevitability of confrontation became apparent, the Academy of Science shifted towards advocating for national defense, while the Ministry of the Occult pressed for an aggressive stance. Caught between these conflicting approaches, the government had yet to fully commit to either course of action.
The foreign forces apparently possessed scientific capabilities unknown to them. Tanks, bombs. Rumors circulated about the existence of scientific weapons of mass destruction.
Marquis Albert de Blois entered the conference room gallantly and went straight to King Rupert, offering him a draft. The king studied both sheets with a pallid face.
Merely an hour remained before the radio broadcast to declare to its citizens the Kingdom of Sauville’s involvement in the war.
Would the king read the speech prepared by the cautious Academy of Science, or the aggressive Ministry of the Occult?
Whether or not they would secure victory in the upcoming war hinged on which side to believe in. Jupiter Roget, a prominent figure in the Academy of Science who held confidence in their advantage, chewed his lips at King Rupert’s indecision.
Marquis de Blois’s face twisted into an unsettling smile. He whispered something to the king, and the latter’s complexion gradually changed.
Shaking off his retainers, King Rupert exited the conference room alongside Marquis de Blois. They left the palace and mounted a waiting carriage.
Across the sky, several light brown barrage balloons swayed eerily, resembling jellyfish adrift in the sea.
“Your Majesty! Behold the homunculus I’ve created—an occult weapon born between a Gray Wolf and a human!”
In the depths of the enormous prison known as the Soleil Noir.
On this day, Marquis de Blois finally unveiled his trump card to King Rupert. An occult weapon whispered but never before seen. Until now.
A young girl was sitting in the middle of the dark, damp stone chamber.
She adorned the uniform of Saint Marguerite Academy. Cascades of golden hair swept down to touch the dusty floor. She had a small face, the beauty of which the king had never laid eyes on before. Deep green eyes stared at empty space in a trancelike state. Her arms and legs hung limply to her sides.
Contrary to the ominous setting, her expression held a hint of gentleness. Her glossy, cherry lips were slightly parted, as if ready to curve into a sweet smile.
By her side stood a young man in a stylish attire, with hair as pointed as a cannon. He set aside the government documents he had been perusing and bowed respectfully to His Majesty.
The girl, however, was unresponsive. For a while, King Rupert stared speechless at the Monstre Charmant.
All throughout his life, he had glimpsed the exterior and concealed facets of the royal palace, the enigmatic mysteries and shadowy horrors woven into Sauville’s long history. He thought he had seen it all. However, what he was witnessing now was more baffling than anything he had ever seen, filling him with a fear that seemed to creep up from his very feet.
The girl kept staring at the void with an expression he had never seen before, blank yet enraptured.
Three months ago, King Rupert saw Victorique de Blois, Europe’s greatest mind concealed by the Ministry of the Occult, in Saubreme’s Phantom theater, where they had a brief conversation. Her size, beauty, and intellect instilled fear in him then, but the current Victorique, transformed into an occult weapon, appeared entirely different from the girl he had spoken to before, a girl who moved of her own will and fought for the things she cherished. The sight of King Rupert did not inspire any change in her.
Suddenly, her lips parted. “Germany will invade again! This time, it’s England!” Her voice was raspy as an elderly’s, and deep like it emerged from the depths of hell.
“Really. When?” Marquis de Blois asked in an amused tone.
Victorique moved stiffly like a puppet. “Do you even need to ask? Within the next couple of days,” she answered.
“I see.”
“So has the Wellspring of Wisdom foretold!”
King Rupert retreated, his back hitting the wall.
The stone chamber was icy cold, as if spring had not touched this place. As if the winter day she was abducted from Saint Marguerite Academy had persisted still to this moment.
King Rupert gasped. “What is this exactly?”
“It’s quite simple, Your Majesty.” Marquis de Blois opened his pale lips, chuckling. “This Gray Wolf possesses an immensely superior intellect!”
“What?!”
“Descendants of the ancient Saillune tribe established a village deep in the Swiss mountains, where they lived in secrecy for centuries. They proclaimed it to be the Kingdom of Saillune, and I hear their village elder is actually the king. They’re short and beautiful, with golden hair and green eyes. Also known as Gray Wolves, they possess remarkable intelligence. Now this is the occult! An intellectual relic from ages past, transcending time itself. Descendants of mythological gods, possessing powers beyond our reach!”
King Rupert shook his head in disbelief. “But Germany invading England as well? Please spare me the nonsense. How can this scrawny child know such things when she’s been confined here for so long?”
Marquis de Blois grinned wickedly, pointing to his son by his side.
“This creature’s brother—my son—has been providing her with data about the world situation since the beginning of this year.”
“What?!”
“They’re sorted, taken apart, and then sorted again within the Monstre Charmant, eventually surpassing current reality. In other words, it keeps predicting what’s happening in the world. We can anticipate all events. This is a biological weapon. A magical warfare that only the power of the occult can wage.”
“Impossible!”
Marquis de Blois laughed. His features and voice were filled with confidence. He was unshakable. Red tongue flickered inside his mouth.
“Your Majesty, the Kingdom of Sauville is a nation steeped in ancient power and tradition. We must never forget Europe’s pride and the weight of history. We ought to have a distinct way of fighting. Our scientific capabilities may not match the New World’s, but Sauville has the power of the occult!”
“Marquis de Blois…”
King Rupert staggered out of the stone chamber and promptly returned to the palace.
His face was ashen, and his hands were trembling. Marquis de Blois was staring at the felt curtains, seemingly amused by whatever he was seeing.
Barrage balloons bobbed high above.
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