"Baron Lock, do you understand what you are saying?"
King Ramposa III rose slightly from his throne, his voice sharp with restrained anger.
Although the Kingdom was fractured by noble factions and authority was often ignored, no one had ever spoken so openly—so calmly—about replacing the ruling order.
Lock met the king's gaze without flinching.
"Your Majesty," he replied evenly, "with three thousand Tiger Knights, my sister the Starlight Witch, and a Golden Dragon under her command, the Royal Capital could be taken in a single night."
His tone was neither proud nor threatening. It was factual.
"The City Guard would collapse immediately. The Kingdom Warrior Troop would delay the outcome, nothing more. Even if you mobilized every noble levy in time, the result would only be additional corpses—hundreds of thousands of them."
Ramposa's fingers tightened against the armrest.
"But I have no interest in ruling over ashes," Lock continued. "A broken Kingdom is inefficient. A devastated population is useless."
The hall fell silent.
"For that reason," Lock said, "I am offering a path that preserves order. Betroth Princess Lana to me. The royal bloodline remains. The Kingdom remains intact. The transition is… quiet."
Ramposa stared at the young noble before him.
This was not a man intoxicated by ambition.
This was a man arranging outcomes.
"A king does not yield to coercion," Ramposa said at last.
"And a wise king does not sacrifice his people for pride," Lock replied calmly.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Ramposa exhaled slowly.
"…You leave me no choice."
Lock inclined his head slightly.
"To ensure that Your Majesty fully understands that this is not reckless talk, I propose a wager."
"A wager?" Ramposa asked.
"Five days from now, a Royal Martial Tournament will be held," Lock said.
"Three battles:
A single combat
A squad battle of no more than ten
A legion engagement of one hundred soldiers."
"If Your Majesty wins even one of the three," Lock continued, "I will withdraw my request for marriage, swear formal allegiance to the royal house, and act under your authority henceforth."
The meaning was clear.
This was not a test of fairness.
It was a demonstration.
Ramposa closed his eyes briefly.
He understood.
Refusing meant war.
Accepting meant humiliation—but survival.
"…Very well," the king said at last. "I accept. The tournament will be held in five days."
Lock bowed, flawlessly composed.
"Then I look forward to it. I trust Your Majesty will prepare well."
He turned and walked toward the exit.
At the doors, he paused and nodded once to Gazef Stronoff, who stood rigidly at attention.
Gazef said nothing.
After Lock departed, the hall felt empty.
"My King…" Gazef began.
"There is no alternative," Ramposa said quietly. "If we refuse, the city burns."
Gazef lowered his head.
"Begin preparations," the king continued. "You will fight the single battle. Contact Blue Rose for the squad battle."
"Yes," Gazef replied.
"I ask only this," Ramposa added softly.
"Crush his ambition."
Gazef's voice was firm.
"This one will give his life if needed."
Outside the Audience Hall
Lock walked through the palace corridor beside Vier, his steps unhurried.
"This tournament will terrify the nobles," Vier said quietly.
"That is its purpose," Lock replied. "After five days, no one will dare oppose me openly."
"And the Golden Princess?"
"If she is as intelligent as rumored," Lock said, "she will understand the value of standing beside the inevitable."
Vier hesitated, then asked, "Will you truly marry her?"
Lock stopped and glanced at her, eyes cool.
"Vier," he said mildly,
Concern yourself with matters that affect outcomes—not bloodlines."
She lowered her head.
"As you command."
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