Chapter 28: The Weight of the Crown
Grokemon's POV – The Hall of Sun-Kings
Critical Status: Host is alive (barely).
Environmental Alert: Predator-Prey dynamics have been inverted. The Lion is sweating. The Bunny is a nuclear warhead.
Recommendation: Stay still. Do not breathe. Do not blink.
The air in the throne room didn't just feel cold; it felt sharp. Mirae's crimson aura was a physical pressure, a jagged vibration that made the gold filigree on the pillars groan. She stood over Saferu like a vengeful deity, her gaze locked onto the King.
King Leonidas sat perfectly still. For a moment, the "King of Beasts" looked like a statue. He was far stronger than Mirae in a one-on-one duel—he was a sovereign, a warrior of legends—unitl he remembered the politics of the "Long-ears."
Mirae wasn't just any rabbit-kin. She was the niece of the Bunny King, the man who once famously strangled a Great Dragon because it "blocked his view of the garden."
"Host, I'm running a simulation," I whispered, my voice trembling in his mind. "If Leonidas strikes her, the Bunny King will be here within forty-eight hours. My data suggests that a dozen Berserk Rabbits are mathematically equivalent to an extinction-level event. The Lion Kingdom wouldn't just fall; it would be turned into a crater."
The Lion King swallowed hard. He looked at the guards, who were holding their spears with white-knuckled grips, their knees visibly shaking. They weren't afraid of a healer; they were afraid of the Battle Maniacs who would follow if a single drop of her blood hit the floor. The only reason the Rabbit-kin didn't rule the world was because they were too busy looking for things to fight—and Leonidas didn't want to be next on their list.
Beside the throne, Lyra was a ghost. Her eyes were wide, her staff clattering against the floor. Mirae's aura had ripped open her trauma like a jagged blade. She wasn't looking at a girl; she was seeing the same white-furred death that had slaughtered the Echo-Fool in her memories. The fear she thought she had buried under layers of clinical indifference was now drowning her.
Finally, the King broke the silence. He threw his head back and let out a roar—not of anger, but of desperate, authoritative dignity. It was the roar of a man trying to remind everyone he still wore the crown.
"Enough!" Leonidas boomed, his voice echoing off the obsidian walls. He stood up, though he kept his hands visible and away from his weapons. "Lower your spears! This was a trial, not an execution!"
He forced a stiff, terrifyingly awkward smile, looking down at Saferu, who was gasping for air on the floor.
"A small wound, Little Rabbit!" the King joked, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "In the Lion Kingdom, our cubs suffer worse during their first grooming session. It was merely a test of the Fool's resolve. We had no intention of letting him perish."
Mirae didn't move. Her eyes remained red, her claws still out.
"Lyra!" the King barked, glancing at the trembling mage. "Perform your duties! Now!"
Lyra jumped as if struck. She scrambled forward, her hands glowing with an intense, shimmering emerald light. She didn't dare look at Mirae as she cast a High-Tier Restoration spell. The green mana washed over Saferu, knitting his broken ribs back together, sealing the gashes on his chest, and forcing the shadow-toxins out of his blood in a hiss of steam.
Saferu gasped as his lungs finally expanded without pain. He looked up, his vision clearing.
Seeing Saferu breathe normally again, the red swirl in Mirae's eyes finally began to recede. The jagged light around her fur softened, and her ears, which had been pulled back in a murderous line, slowly stood upright again. The pressure in the room evaporated, leaving everyone feeling like they had just avoided a high-speed collision.
She reached down, helping Saferu to his feet, but she didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on Leonidas, her expression cold and hard.
"The trial is over," Mirae said, her voice no longer a growl, but still carrying a lethal edge. "And if you wish for our tribes to remain 'allies,' Your Majesty, I suggest you find a different way to entertain yourself."
The Lion King sat back down, a bead of sweat rolling down his mane. He looked like he had aged ten years in ten minutes.
"Well, host," I chimed in, my processors finally cooling down. "Good news: You're healed. Bad news: You are now officially the most high-stakes 'emotional support human' in history. If you get a papercut, the King might have a heart attack out of pure diplomatic terror."
Saferu leaned on Mirae, feeling the lingering heat of her anger. He looked at the King, then at Lyra, who was still shaking.
The "Kingdom of Fools" was far more dangerous than he thought—not because of the monsters, but because of the monsters wearing crowns.