Chapter 65: As the Gods Will

Raive didn’t want a chaotic start, so he let the soldiers march them along, hands tied behind their backs.

Along the way, he didn’t miss the corpses of a few other players.

Judging by their wounds, it was obvious they’d tried fighting the soldiers and lost.

There were others, too—dead without a wound on them, a soldier’s corpse lying right beside them.

’So the hidden rule applies to the NPCs too.’ Raive thought.

Killing anyone besides the monsters or the traitor meant death for the killer. A lesson some of them had learned the hard way.

"Hurry up and walk!"

Thud!

As Raive slowed his pace to observe, the soldier behind him kicked his leg to hurry him along. But the man fell on his ass instead.

He clearly hadn’t expected Raive’s leg to feel like a solid wall.

Embarrassed and furious, he looked ready to take it out on Raive, until he caught the sharp glare aimed his way.

The soldier felt a chill run through him and quickly looked away, face pale.

Therese and Hershey were marched the same way, though the soldiers went noticeably easier on them than on him.

The favoritism was irritating in how obvious it was.

After a while, Raive was led deep into the inner castle, following wide, red-carpeted paths that twisted left and right, with empty full-plate armors lined up by the side, until they reached the throne room.

A number of high-class looking people filled the room, all watching Raive and the others with a glint to their eyes.

Looking closer, they weren’t alone either.

Besides a few unfamiliar faces, Hazel, Shymine, and the rest were there too.

The only one missing from their team was Khamish.

Raive had no idea where he’d gone.

Not that it mattered right now.

What mattered was the glowing blue crystal standing behind the throne—roughly three meters tall, its shape jagged and complex, like a rough flower blooming in the middle of chaos.

"Intruders..."

While Raive took in his surroundings, the man on the throne spoke, his voice loud and regal.

Raive turned his gaze to the man wearing the oversized crown. Between the clothes and the bearing, there was no mistaking it—the man was this place’s king.

"For what reason have you invaded our kingdom?" The king continued, his gaze cold and doubtful.

The way he propped his chin on one hand as he spoke reeked of arrogance. Still, Raive held his tongue and smiled, answering with a bow.

"Please pardon us, oh great king." He said. "We are people sent by the heavens, on a mandate to help you fight off a flood of monsters."

Raive was used to spinning believable tales out of scraps of information. And his words landed—the king’s brow rose with interest as he echoed them back.

"Monsters, you say?"

"Yes, your highness. Monsters."

Raive slowly lifted his gaze, shaping his expression into something pious and pitiful, a hint of tears gathering at the corners.

"Before long, monsters will begin attacking this city’s walls." He said. "I fear many of your people would be sacrificed if that happens. But fear not—the gods, the angels, have sent us to help!"

The king paused, clearly needing a moment to think it through.

Raive and the others had appeared inside the castle’s courtyard without warning and without anyone noticing—so "the gods intervened" sounded more plausible than the alternative: that a thousand infiltrators had somehow slipped in unseen.

"So you’re saying the same group as the ruffians who killed my knights was supposed to save my kingdom?" The king asked, his voice dignified but edged with anger.

Raive didn’t so much as blink.

He just smiled and shook his head.

"My apologies, oh great king. But though there’s a thousand of us, we’re more like mercenaries gathered in a hurry. A bunch of small groups and individuals matched into a single army. We barely know each other, so grouping us all together is a bit of a stretch."

Just as he’d guessed, some of the players had killed knights.

They’d died at the same moment they killed the knights, leaving the king with no one to punish or interrogate.

Still, Raive figured even those "ruffians" had their uses, so he bowed his head and pressed on.

"I know it’s not my place to ask, but please forgive them. They don’t know what they’ve done. Oh great king, show us your benevolence."

The apology was poison dressed up as humility. If the king refused now, having openly asked for his mercy, it would only expose how small his vessel was as a ruler.

Punishing Raive’s team wasn’t an option either—they hadn’t acted up themselves and even peacefully walked to the audience room.

The king frowned, clearly displeased, but with no real move to make.

"...I see."

In the end, he relented.

"So you claim to be the gods’ agents. Then prove it."

Or at least he seemed to be trying. But that was the part that gave Raive pause.

They had no way to actually prove they’d been sent by the gods—at best, they could prove their ability. Just as he rose from kneeling, about to try something—

"E-Emergency! Emergency!"

A soldier burst in, panting hard, sweat pouring off him. His eyes were wild, like he’d just seen something that scared the life out of him.

"Monsters... Monsters are attacking the city walls! We need backup immediately!"

The proof arrived right on cue, and Raive allowed himself a small grin.

At the news, the watching nobles broke into panic, whispering among themselves, unable to settle on what to do.

"No way...!"

"So their words are true?!"

"Oh, gods. Please save our kingdom..."

The timing did more for Raive’s credibility than anything he could’ve said.

He looked to the king with a thin, knowing smile, as if this was exactly what he’d expected. The king, catching that look, grumbled and broke into cold sweat.

After all, in treating everyone as intruders, they’d already killed over a hundred people—people who should’ve been the ones defending the kingdom as per the "Heaven’s Decree."

They’d killed their own saviors.

"Don’t worry, my king."

Raive, reading him like an open book, reassured him.

"I promise you, my teammates and I are more than willing to lay our lives down to protect your people, your land, everything you hold dear."

Empty promises, every word of it.

But to the panicked nobles, it sounded like the words of a hero.

The king, too, understood the mistake he’d made.

Too large to admit outright.

So he settled for a shallow bow—the most he could offer—and asked.

"Oh heroes, agents of the gods. Please... please help me protect my innocent citizens."

Raive smiled, knowing he had him now.

Once the nearest soldier cut the rope binding his wrists, he rubbed at the marks it left and answered firmly.

"As the gods will!"