"Wha—?!"
The sound must have slipped from someone's lips uncontrollably.
It was merely a single, fractured gasp, but it vividly captured the absolute astonishment harbored by almost every living soul present in the room.
"My~, that was incredibly close. Truly. If I hadn't prepared a failsafe in advance, I would have been completely wiped away~."
The Necromancer's voice echoed... from a terrifyingly short distance.
The blinding light that should have utterly vaporized the undead Beast King dispersed, and the structural reality of the room finally became clear. By all laws of magic, absolutely nothing should have remained at those coordinates.
Yet, a silhouette stood there. Furthermore, it was far smaller than the Beast King's massive frame. Before anyone could track the movement, the Beast King was standing exactly where the Necromancer had been positioned, and the Necromancer occupied the space where the Beast King had just stood. A total spatial transposition.
"Spatial Displacement Magic, was it? I'm so glad I embedded that formula beforehand~... It certainly stung a little bit, but 'Holy Light' doesn't possess any structural efficacy against a living human like me, does it? After all, when your entire career revolves around handling negative entities like the undead, you naturally accumulate extreme countermeasures against that specific element. I'm hardly foolish enough to neglect applying those safeguards to my own person~."
Though it did consume a rather staggering volume of my internal mana, she noted inwardly.
Waving her hand casually, she seized one of her lesser undead minions, twisting and draining its structural essence to instantly restore her personal mana reserves. While she was a Necromancer, she remained a living, breathing human. The devastating multipliers of the holy attribute, which triggered exclusively against negative forces like the undead, failed to apply to her biological body. Labeling the grand purification trap as mere "Holy Light," she let out a delighted, mocking laugh.
(Though I originally developed this sequence as a combined defense and emergency escape method... oh well, I suppose I can always re-anchor the formula later~.)
She had triggered two complex spells in perfect sequence: the transposition array swapping her physical coordinates with the Beast King, and a conceptual barrier that offset incoming external damage by burning matching quantities of mana. The former was a latent spell circle she had carved deep within the Beast King's bone marrow, allowing instant activation at any given second. The latter was a highly specialized defensive shield she had engineered specifically to buy time if she ever encountered a high-speed physical monstrosity like those legendary ostriches.
Both spells commanded an astronomical mana cost, to a degree that even an expert caster like herself should have found simultaneous deployment impossible... but a Necromancer is fundamentally never a single entity.
Had she possessed a boundless mana reservoir on the tier of Wraith, she could have spammed such high-order arcana while yawning, but she was not quite that much of a freak of nature. In terms of raw internal mana volume, she was roughly equivalent to Amelia the Elf—vastly inferior to prime specimens like the Beast King. Yet, she cleanly bypassed this biological limitation through external routing: her specialized "Mana Tanks."
By modifying her choice undead, she could distort their latent internal energy to match her personal mana signature perfectly. This hidden optimization had been applied to every single "pet" within her grand legion. As long as a single subordinate stood on the field, she possessed a functionally inexhaustible series of battery packs.
"So? What do you plan to show me next~?"
She posed the question with a venomous smirk. It was the characteristic expression of a predator who held victory firmly in the palm of her hand—the smile of total, unassailable composure.
Yet, this composure was far from empty arrogance. The baseline reality was absolute: Nagan no longer possessed a single viable path to victory.
Even if the previous holy trap had successfully obliterated the Beast King, she still commanded an immense vanguard waiting in reserve. Six Dullahans, each fully capable of matching the Red Knight in physical combat metrics, stood perfectly ready; twelve Liches anchored the rear, maintaining a constant counter-magic output that perfectly neutralized the room's holy barriers. Backed by dozens of auxiliary undead, they formed an unbreachable wall. Had the Tactician been physically present in the room, a counter-strategy might still have manifested, but the Red Knight alone would exhaust her entire operational capacity merely trying to suppress two Dullahans.
While alternative defensive units occupied the room, their only practical utility at this stage would be serving as literal meat shields. It was highly debatable if they could buy even a handful of seconds. That was the reality even under the assumption that the Beast King had been neutralized. Within the confines of this specific room, no tactical victory condition remained.
One could attempt to frame the outcome as a successful depletion of enemy assets, but the only things destroyed were her auxiliary mana batteries—units entirely disconnected from her direct offensive output. It was a combat achievement far too minuscule to matter.
Biting her lip in silent frustration at her tactical failure, the Red Knight maintained her guard, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her blade. Before she could force her failing muscles into another desperate sprint, a heavy hand was placed gently upon her armored shoulder.
It was "His Majesty"—the man bearing the sovereign title of King of Nagan.
Meeting his steady gaze, Dorothea slowly, quietly lowered her sword.
"Oh~? Done already?"
"Indeed. It appears we have exhausted every viable card in our hand. ...We surrender."
The "King" projected his voice across the chamber, carrying himself with a dignity befitting his royal title.
However, the Necromancer's sharp senses did not miss the microscopic tremor running through his frame.
The physical realization that she had reduced the sovereign of a major nation to absolute terror offered a tangible sense of progression toward her ultimate dream. The vivid image of "The Strongest on the Continent" flickered in her mind once more; she was steadily closing the distance. Securing a prime piece like the Beast King, achieving a partial victory in a high-level battle of wits against the legendary Tactician, and successfully capturing the monarch to secure her next political foothold...
Suppressing her mounting elation, she spun her terms with measured elegance.
"Yes, yes~. I absolutely adore people who understand when they are beaten. Naturally, I shall grant you your lives. However, I will be imposing a rather extensive series of operational restrictions, you see~?"
Gestation arrays flared as she issued a command to one of her specialized undead, forcing it to deploy the unique Heteromorphic Talent it had possessed in life. The entity, now reclassified under the species title of Carrion Doll (Fresh Doll), commanded the latent talent: [Flesh Replication (Clone)]. By sacrificing a portion of its natural biological lifespan, it could construct a perfect replica of its own body without any degradation in combat metrics.
Ordinarily, a deceased entity lacking a natural lifespan could never pay such a conceptual cost. However, as an active undead, it existed within a perpetual paradox—simultaneously dead yet functionally operating. As long as the Necromancer channeled mana into its core, its operational lifespan was effectively infinite. In short, it could churn out perfect clones without any structural limits.
It was a prized pet she had painstakingly excavated from a legendary burial ground.
"Doll~? Strip everyone of their armaments and initiate a total sweep of this royal palace, if you please~? I simply must acquire every scrap of intelligence compiled by that lovely 'Tactician'~. ...Additionally, bring that King and the Red Knight over here. Make them kneel."
"...AS—YOU—WISH."
The entity shifted into immediate motion. Adhering strictly to the Tactician's pre-defined "script," the Nagan soldiers offered zero physical resistance to the disarming process, allowed themselves to be stripped of weapons, and quietly congregated in the corners of the room. Watching a continuous stream of flesh clones surge outward from the ruined throne floor to secure the building, the Necromancer forced the two high-value targets to their knees directly before her mobile throne.
"Now then, with the King securely under our management... I believe it is time to have you summon your brilliant Tactician~."
"...You desire him, do you?"
"Yes, yes~. My grand blueprint requires his specific analytical intellect, you see~. Oh, do not worry, I intend to establish a perfectly binding Contract with him~."
Gesturing smoothly, she had an auxiliary undead bring forward several sheets of specialized parchment.
Presented upon a polished iron tray were formalized contractual documents, heavily reinforced with complex magical binding arrays. This was entirely distinct from the absolute, unconditional master-servant pact formed between the Ostrich Wraith and the Child Queen; it was a structured legal arcanum dictating that 'any violation of the stated clauses triggers immediate, catastrophic karmic penalties.' Short of possessing an absurd, god-tier mana pool capable of tearing through conceptual laws or a specific immunity to systemic constraints, it exercised absolute, ironclad enforcement upon the signatory.
"It's a template frequently utilized for high-tier servitude agreements, but a Parchment offers far greater conceptual security than a mere compliance ring, wouldn't you agree~?"
Her ultimate objective was the construction of the absolute Strongest Undead. To achieve that, she required prime Special Strategic Class vessels and an astronomical volume of negative karmic energy generated by the sudden deaths of vast populations. The most efficient engine to manufacture such parameters was total, unmitigated continental warfare. Her intent was to seize absolute control from the shadows over the Nagan Kingdom—a nation naturally steeped in radical Human Supremacy and steered by a monarch actively pursuing territorial expansion—and use its military machinery to fan the flames of war across the entire continent.
Had she attempted this inside a strictly isolationist, defensive nation like the Heed Kingdom, the sudden shift in foreign policy would have triggered immediate societal rejection. However, within a naturally bellicose empire like Nagan, it would simply look like business as usual. And with the unmatched intellectual guidance of the "Tactician," she believed the total conquest of the continent was well within the realm of mathematical certainty.
"I hold the lives of both you, the Sovereign, and your entire populace firmly in my grasp~. In exchange for me withholding immediate execution, the 'Tactician' will dedicate his intellect to my campaign. It is hardly a disadvantageous arrangement for your side, is it? ...Ah, as for the penalty clauses if you dare to violate the terms... let's see~. For me, immediate 'Self-Termination.' For him, 'He must personally slaughter the specific individual I designate with his own hands.' How does that sound~? It's quite an enticing proposal, wouldn't you say~?"
The reality was absolute: had the real Tactician been backed into such a corner, he would have signed the document without a single moment of hesitation, regardless of any internal protest from his peers. He held a profound, unshakeable reverence for his King and loved the populace of Nagan above all else. He would gladly plunge his own hands into darkness if it guaranteed even a fractional increase in his nation's survival metrics.
"Well, before we proceed to that stage~, we must properly secure your physical persons. Ordinarily, I would simply layer a compliance 'Contract' over you just as I intend to do with him, but..."
Before she could articulate her terms, a sudden mental transmission flashed from the "Doll" units she had dispersed across the palace infrastructure.
The long-range communications technology developed by Nagan had already been plundered by her network; she had surgically embedded those precise magic tools within her high-intelligence undead variants. While these plundered communication units were slightly degraded compared to the military-grade models utilized by the Tactician's personal intelligence network, clean communication within the perimeter of a single architectural structure was entirely effortless.
『REPORT: TARGETS... UNABLE... TO... LOCATE.』
"...Did you execute a thorough search~?"
『SEARCHED... EVERYTHING. NOTHING... HERE.』
What her disjointed minion had been hunting for were the consolidated intelligence archives accumulated by the Tactician. Secret documents detailing plundered data from foreign intelligence cells, meticulously verified by the Tactician himself. Comprehensive breakdowns of continental Special Strategic Class assets, foreign rulers, and the primary informational network he utilized to weave his grand strategies. No matter how brilliant the Tactician was, maintaining a flawless, active memory of every single political metric across the southern continent—including the internal data of the massive Empire dominating the northern landmass—was impossible. He had to have physical documentation, and her intelligence rats had explicitly witnessed him compiling those exact records inside this palace prior to her arrival.
"I suppose it can't be helped~. Let us alter our operational sequence slightly. ...Dullahans? To my side."
Though a flash of disappointment crossed her features, she accepted the reality. She held absolute trust in the perception metrics of her undead, and she fully respected the extreme caution of the Tactician and the disciplined coordination of Nagan's personnel. The moment her vanguard breached the capital walls, they could have easily initiated a total burn of all sensitive documentation.
Consequently, she would simply extract the data directly from the minds of those who remembered it.
While maintaining their watch over the disarmed soldiers, four Dullahans stepped out from the vanguard array, marching toward her position to enforce an absolute, crushing pin upon the two kneeling targets. Two Carrion Dolls and two headless knights. Against a Quasi-Special Strategic asset like the Red Knight, such physical constraints were mathematically sound; against a baseline human like "His Majesty," it was hilariously excessive.
"You see, a Necromancer is fundamentally required to physically alter corpses~. Naturally, one can utilize a carcass exactly as it was found, but to achieve true optimization... one must touch, examine, dissect, and meticulously reconstruct the anatomy. There is simply no alternative path~. And when you repeat that process thousands of times, you naturally acquire an exhaustive, flawless understanding of human biology~."
"..."
"Oh? No interest~? Well, I shall share it anyway. In the end, the ultimate bottleneck is always the brain. The cerebrum, you see~. Human thought, mana manipulation arrays... a highly complex organ that presumably governs dozens of critical systems. It's incredibly intricate, which is completely fair, but it is just a tad too difficult to modify cleanly~. During my early years, I opened, altered, and completely ruined countless subjects before getting it right. However~... extracting raw data... peering directly into their active memories... that is an art I managed to master perfectly~."
Spelling arrays crackled into existence around her fingertips as she traced a perfect circle in the air. Manifesting directly above the immobilized heads of her two captives were a pair of blood-red halos. Crown-like constructs of pure crimson light. Extending from those rings straight into her palms were thick rods of dark, corrupt mana—a specialized arcana designed to burrow into the neurological architecture and map out active memories.
"Now, please ensure you do not move~? I absolutely despise excessive noise, so I shall apply a local anesthetic, but the brain remains an organ filled with structural anomalies~. If you thrash about and cause my fingers to slip, you will be reduced to a permanent vegetative state, so do remain perfectly still~, okay?"
With fluid, deeply practiced motions, she injected a glowing green alchemical fluid directly into the "King's" neurological pathing, initiating a total memory extraction. Her handling displayed the effortless precision of a master craftsman—yet one could only wonder how many hundreds of human lives had been thrown into the meat grinder to perfect that exact level of surgical dexterity. Displaying absolute apathy toward the ethical cost, the Necromancer projected a floating blue screens-like interface before her eyes, scrolling through his extracted life records.
And with every passing screen, the color rapidly drained from her face.
Once the sweep was complete, she violently snapped the extraction array, releasing her hold on the "King."
◇◆◇◆◇
"Now then, it should be about time... Oh, an incoming transmission?"
Deep within the borders of the Beast Kingdom—a vast distance removed from the Nagan capital—the Tactician received a magical notification.
"It has been some time, 'Your Majesty.'"
『Not nearly as long as you imply. More importantly, what is the status of your theater?』
"Completely under control. Everything is progressing smoothly."
As he spoke, his gaze drifted across the sweeping plain where the ostriches were currently running rampant. The structural flow of the battlefield had already transitioned entirely out of his hands; between Matilde's brilliant field leadership and Wraith's real-time adjustments, the tactical balance had swung completely toward their coalition. Had he chosen to do so, the Tactician could have manufactured an identical victory without relying on ostrich deployment, but doing so would have triggered severe geopolitical complications.
A coordinated victory achieved through the combined efforts of Nagan, Heed, the Beast Kingdom, and the Ostriches—establishing that specific historical narrative was the core metric he pursued. Achieving a shared objective manufactured a sense of camaraderie, laying the groundwork for total ideological reformation across the states. While multiple models existed for how the future governing apparatus would be structured, Nagan securing a massive share of the economic development rights within the Beast Kingdom was an absolute certainty.
Unnecessary friction merely breeds economic deficit. Because these microscopic societal blocks ultimately dictated the fate of empires, he had gladly abandoned direct battlefield command, leaving the glory entirely to the girls.
"More importantly, is Your Majesty secure?"
『Indeed. Thanks to your prior routing, I have seamlessly 'evacuated the capital' without a single complication. ...Though I do harbor a degree of guilt regarding the 'Body Double' left in my stead.』
"There is absolutely no cause for Your Majesty to lose sleep over the matter. In fact, when the assignment was delivered, he was practically vibrating with excitement, shouting that his true calling had finally arrived."
『Pfft, is that so?』
The genuine, amused laughter of his King echoed through the communication channel. Given the King's inherent psychological makeup, abandoning the populace he swore to protect to flee a besieged capital was an option he would normally reject with extreme prejudice. Yet, the Sovereign and the Tactician were lifelong brothers-in-arms. Through an exhaustive series of logical presentations, backed by the King's absolute trust in his strategist's intellect and an ironclad guarantee that every single civilian within the palace sector would be evacuated safely, the King had successfully departed Nagan long before the Necromancer ever breached the outer perimeter.
In short: the entity currently sitting in the throne room was a complete lookalike.
The only reason the Red Knight had been using slightly informal speech with her sovereign was because the man standing beside her was merely an incredibly talented theatrical actor who happened to share an identical facial structure with the King of Nagan.
『Even so, to think you would successfully plunder and repurpose the enemy's own technology...』
"Ah, the Teleportation Array template. The craftsmanship was exceptionally refined, so I took the liberty of duplicating the structural parameters. Granted, the execution demanded the consumption of a vast portion of our secret high-grade mana crystal reserves... but allowing every single staff member to safely displace from the interior castle straight past the outer ramparts at a moment's notice was a necessary operational expense. Furthermore, the exact millisecond the system registers zero authorized human mana signatures within the royal palace precinct... the 'Cage' initializes."
The ultimate trap rigged within the palace. A total, absolute sealing sequence that completely isolated the audience chamber, converting it into an unbreachable vault, followed by a maximum-volume cascade of high-purity holy water from the ceiling vaults to cleanse the perimeter. Naturally, total countermeasures to handle the Beast King had been factored in; while he had shattered their subterranean water trap through sheer output, the palace-tier array was operating on a vastly superior structural scale.
"The financial department launched an absolute tirade regarding the budget allocation... but our asset has finally seen actual field deployment."
Currently, the throne room was enveloped in an Anti-Undead Barrier. However, that construct was a pure, unmitigated bluff.
Operating under his personal philosophy of 'predicting exactly this flavor of nonsense,' the Tactician had utilized the palace's central geographical position to convert the entirety of the royal capital into a single, astronomical magic array years ago. While designed with high versatility to process any hypothetical threat matrix, the array possessed the physical surface area of an entire metropolis. Even with its output suppressed to maximize structural versatility, erasing an asset on the tier of the Beast King was a simple mathematical calculation. The lesser undead legions caught within the perimeter would be obliterated simultaneously.
In short: the palace was never a defensive command post; it was a secure slaughterhouse. The exact moment the Necromancer stepped onto the throne floor, her operational defeat was mathematically locked.
"Well, even under the wild assumption that she somehow survives the purge, I have layered secondary and tertiary contingencies. In that scenario, it will simply require a bit of diplomatic maneuvering..."
『Ah, you refer to a formal audience with the sovereign of the ostriches, Lady 'Wraith'? Hah! Say no more, my friend! If it is your directive, I shall gladly grind my forehead into the dirt and beg with the utmost humility!』
"I am explicitly asking you not to take it to that extreme, Your Majesty."
If she somehow broke through the "Cage," if her undead legions survived through some unknown conceptual countermeasure, and if she emerged entirely unscathed—the Tactician's mind had already processed every statistical anomaly and mapped out the corresponding response. The King, having selected his absolute favorite contingency—"Requesting the direct military aid of the ostriches to reclaim the capital"—was currently laughing heartily about 'rubbing his nose into the pavement to secure their favor,' forcing the Tactician to immediately shoot down the hyperbole.
The banter between the two flowed with the effortless warmth of their youth—from a era when the King was merely the Crown Prince and the Tactician was nothing more than a destitute refugee washed up on their shores. The previous ruler, the late King of Nagan, had practiced a highly aggressive policy of protecting human demographics. He had actively sponsored the protection of persecuted elements—a rarity during that era—while establishing robust pipelines to integrate refugees displaced by geopolitical accidents. The Tactician belonged to the latter category.
The Crown Prince of that era had developed a profound fascination with the foreign cultures and specialized methodologies brought by these displaced populations, routinely sneaking out of the palace gates to spend his days among the refugees. Sharing identical age brackets and highly compatible intellectual traits, the Prince and the strategist quickly forged an unbreakable, irreplaceable brotherhood. The primary catalyst that drove the Tactician to anchor himself to Nagan and dedicate his life to its preservation was this single, irreplaceable friend.
"Ah, that presence... Is it a natural undead manifestation? A remarkably powerful entity is currently attempting to draw breath on the field."
『Hm! Does that mean Lady Wraith's unit is up?! T-Tell me, Tactician, if I depart via carriage this exact second, can I make it in time to witness the battle?!』
"How many days do you think a conventional carriage transit takes to bridge that distance, Your Majesty?"
『No, see, we could use that lovely Teleportation Array you mentioned—』
"That system is strictly a single-use deployment asset, and the encryption parameters are highly complex; duplicating the matrix on short notice is a structural impossibility. Furthermore, we lack the necessary mana infrastructure to power a secondary transit. Please exercise patience."
『Tsk... what a profound disappointment.』
◇◆◇◆◇
"I... see. I... see... 『Turnkey Magic (Mana Deadlock)』."
The Necromancer violently triggered her arcana, instantly clamping down upon the latent mana signatures of the two captives before her, while simultaneously paralyzing the activation arrays of any emergency teleportation talismans they might be concealing within their garments. Raw mana possessed zero functional value while static; it required flow and directional momentum to manifest force. Executing both individuals right here without a single moment of delay was well within her power, but she couldn't mathematically verify if that choice represented the optimal path forward. Consequently, she opted to buy herself operational time.
(I have been dancing entirely within his palm from step one.)
Her cognitive processes spun at maximum velocity, focused entirely on a single metric: How do I survive? How do I tear through his tactical layout?
The extracted memories of this "Body Double" contained structural blind spots. The Tactician had deliberately withheld any data exceeding the actor's immediate operational requirements. To find a breach, she had to manually calculate and fill those missing values. Maintaining a flawless, unbothered expression to ensure her captives detected zero internal panic, she projected a direct mental command to the Carrion Doll unit possessing the cloning talent.
(You.)
『AWAITING... ORDERS.』
(I am routing a set of structural coordinates to your consciousness this exact second. Disarm every single trigger array at those locations immediately. Furthermore, the absolute millisecond you locate any anomaly, report it directly to me.)
『AS... YOU... WISH.』
First, she had to cleanly eliminate the hidden trap arrays woven into this castle structure. While she possessed the theoretical tools to process high-volume holy water cascades, operating blind against an unknown volume of hidden arrays meant conserving her internal mana pool was her highest operational priority. She required data—any scrap, no matter how insignificant.
"My~. Granted, this development falls somewhat outside our initial projections, but it remains well within our capacity to process, wouldn't you agree~? If the real King isn't present, we simply have to hunt him down~. Now then, let us leave this lovely 'Body Double' aside for a moment and take a thorough peek into our Red Knight-chan's mind instead~."
Forcibly anchoring her facial muscles to project total confidence, she utilized her raw mana to suppress the physiological tremors threatening to break through her composure. Maintaining the illusion that she stood on equal footing—if not outright dominating the Tactician's chess board—she burrowed into the Red Knight's memory banks. A single subject's perspective was far too unreliable; she required multi-angle validation.
(...The data correlates perfectly with the double's records. Additionally... oh my, this girl actually harbors romantic feelings toward the Tactician... wait, is this one of those instances where the subject hasn't even consciously registered her own affection yet? How utterly hilarious. More importantly, what is this continuous reference to 'Ostriches'...? 『The Highlands』?)
〇 A Simplified Flowchart of the Battle for the Nagan Capital
〇 The Necromancer's Preparations: Establishes hidden safehouses across various regions.
〇Then: Registers Nagan's aggressive military posturing and establishes her primary operational headquarters directly within Nagan territory.
〇Then: Constructs 28 independent fallback facilities to ensure total operational redundancy.
〇Then: Receives intelligence regarding the Beast Kingdom's invasion of Heed and departs for the front lines.
〇Then: Secures the fresh corpse of the Beast King and experiences extreme psychological elation.
〇Then: Commences final preparations for her grand debut from the shadows.
〇 The Tactician's Counter-Measures: Maps out the existence of the massive undead swarm and verifies the Necromancer's involvement.
〇Then: Orders the immediate recall of the Red Knight to capital defense to handle the local theater.
〇Then: Departs for the Beast Kingdom alongside the Ostrich flock.
〇Then: Receives an emergency report from the Red Knight mid-transit: "We found highly irregular subterranean facilities near the capital."
〇Then: Deploys immediate spatial analysis, maps out the capital layout, flags every single geographical anomaly, and commands the Red Knight to execute a total sweep.
〇Then: The Red Knight locates every single facility, routing the structural metrics back to the Tactician.
〇Then: Verifies the data, establishing absolute mathematical certainty that the opponent is a specialized Necromancer, and finalizes his counter-strategy.
〇Then: Concludes a diplomatic agreement with the Holy Church (normally a strictly neutral faction) to secure total domestic defensive aid.
〇Then: Neutralizes the enemy's latent Teleportation Arrays and designs localized mana-disruption payloads.
〇Then: Establishes civil evacuation routing, briefs all state departments, and initiates the structural calibration of the city-wide magic array.
〇Then: Briefs the King of Nagan regarding the scenario, authorizing the deployment of the theatrical body double.
〇Then: Rigs the palace audience chamber with the "Cage" protocols and completes a total purge of sensitive state intelligence to maintain information security.
〇Then: Hands the script to the body double and successfully calibrates the anti-Beast King mana lock.
〇 The Climax: The Necromancer arrives at the Nagan Royal Palace.
〇Then: Thoroughly enjoys the Tactician's opening "hospitality," operating under the delusion that she is dominating the tactical flow.
〇Then: Experiences seamless success across ninety percent of her operation, only to realize at the final operational junction that she has completely failed to secure the actual King of Nagan.
Progress Check
〇 The Board Inverted: The Necromancer has successfully frozen the palace trap triggers via her cloned minions but has realized she is completely empty-handed regarding her primary political leverage (the real King).
〇 The Ostrich Shadow: Having parsed the Red Knight's memories, the concept of the "Ostriches" and the terrifying reality of the "Highlands" has officially entered the Necromancer's analytical framework.
〇 The Approaching Storm: While the Necromancer struggles to salvage her operation in the capital, Wraith has detected a massive composite undead trigger on the plains—and the ostriches are getting deeply impatient about their lack of food and screen time.