Lord Gothra Hyde of Dolez City was sixteen years old, the last scion of a noble lineage that once rivaled the royal family of the Dylan Kingdom. What had once been a powerful and influential house had slowly withered over generations, leaving Gothra as its sole remaining heir.
Despite this decline, the young lord's rule remained relatively stable. He had a minister—loyal, or at least outwardly so—who managed internal affairs, a steadfast knight commander responsible for the military, and most importantly, a powerful guardian: Bahang, a Level 13 dwarven warrior who had sworn loyalty to the Hyde family three centuries ago. These pillars ensured the city's stability… so long as no unforeseen catastrophe occurred.
And what catastrophe could be worse than a rapidly spreading plague?
Before dawn, Gothra was rudely awakened by his maid, summoned to an urgent meeting. He was both surprised and irritated—he hadn't concerned himself with state affairs for over a month, and in his mind nothing could possibly be more important than his three newly acquired, beautiful maids.
Grumbling in annoyance, he allowed his attendants to dress him in heavy robes encrusted with jewels, drenched himself in rare noble-exclusive perfumes, and forced down a luxurious breakfast that had long since lost its novelty.
As a final bit of amusement, he pushed several of his maids into the courtyard pond, watching them shriek and splash in panic. Only when his steward reminded him that the ministers had been waiting for quite some time did he finally move toward the government hall, still clearly dissatisfied.
The government hall, located on the second floor of the central castle, was a monument to aristocratic extravagance. Gold ornaments and lavish decorations made it resemble a grand ballroom more than a place for governance.
In truth, it was rarely used. Minister Hutt normally handled all matters privately, while Gothra spent his days indulging in pleasure.
But today the atmosphere was different.
As Gothra lazily settled onto his ornate throne, he sensed a heavy tension in the room—like the stillness before a storm.
"Your Highness, a large-scale plague has erupted across Dolez City and its surrounding 364 villages. Thousands of infected peasants are heading toward the city. For the safety of our citizens, I strongly advise closing the gates immediately and preventing the mobs from entering."
An aged, hunched man stepped forward. Though his tone sounded polite, it carried the force of a command.
This was Minister of Internal Affairs Hutt.
Barely concealing his contempt, he spoke as if Gothra's approval were merely a formality.
Gothra barely listened.
He lazily swept his gaze across the ministers, who all kept their heads bowed. He was already prepared to approve the proposal without thinking, his mind drifting back to his waiting maids, when a booming voice suddenly interrupted.
"Your Highness, you must not allow this!"
A tall, broad-shouldered knight strode into the chamber.
His golden armor gleamed beneath the chandeliers, and his crimson cape fluttered dramatically as he advanced. Heavy boots struck the marble floor, echoing across the hall.
Stopping before the throne, he dropped to one knee.
"Minister Hutt, do you truly intend for His Highness to abandon his own people? Where is the honor of House Hyde? Where is the dignity of a lord?"
Hutt instinctively flinched backward, before quickly masking his reaction with a venomous glare.
"Knight Commander Cascarser, this is a formal council meeting. Barging in unannounced is already disrespectful, and interrupting His Highness borders on rebellion! Is this your idea of chivalry?"
Cascarser ignored him completely.
Instead, he turned to Gothra, his voice firm and urgent.
"Your Highness, this plague is no ordinary disaster. A cult is operating within the city—"
"Silence!" Hutt shrieked.
"How dare you slander the Church of Tishachar! Accusing a goddess without proof is blasphemy!"
Cascarser's eyes turned icy.
"You go too far, Hutt. I don't know how much the Church of Tishachar has paid you, but the city is in serious danger. This is not the time for political schemes."
"Y-you—!"
Hutt staggered backward, suddenly speechless.
Cascarser's presence radiated barely restrained hostility. A faint aura of battle energy flickered around him, promising that violence could erupt at any moment.
Swallowing hard, Hutt fell silent.
Cascarser bowed deeply toward the throne.
"Your Highness, I beg you—send the city guard to hunt down the cultists, reassure the people, and open the gates to allow uninfected refugees inside."
But Gothra had barely followed the argument at all.
The moment he sensed the discussion was nearing its end, impatience crept into his expression.
To him, politics and plagues were meaningless distractions.
His robes felt unbearably heavy, and all he wanted was to return to his chambers, where soft, perfumed maids awaited him.
Sensing this, Hutt panicked.
If he remained silent now, Gothra would approve Cascarser's proposal without hesitation.
"Your Highness!" Hutt cried urgently. "You cannot allow those filthy peasants into the city! They carry disease! What if you yourself were infected? Are their worthless lives truly more important than your safety?"
Cascarser's temper finally ignited.
"Nonsense! Proper inspections can prevent the spread of disease! Abandoning the people will destroy House Hyde's reputation! Do you want His Highness to be remembered as a tyrant? Do you want adventurers and noble houses to rise against him?"
For the first time, Hutt hesitated.
His face turned red with frustration, and he stumbled over his next words.
"The city guard is already stretched thin… The military budget is insufficient…"
Cascarser's scowl deepened.
"Then at the very least, we must send aid to the refugees. If not out of compassion, then for the sake of House Hyde's name."
Gothra, who had barely listened to any of it, quickly approved the proposal—mostly because he wanted the meeting to end.
As always, the actual execution of decisions would fall to Cascarser anyway.
Without another word, Cascarser turned and strode toward the exit, his expression grim and resolute.
Meanwhile, Hutt remained in the hall, standing motionless.
His face twisted with barely concealed malice, his eyes burning with hatred as he stared at Cascarser's departing figure.