Born as a member of the marquis family, Trio Borgia was a man who understood his role.

His father, the current head of the house, and his elder brothers, the heirs apparent, possessed the intelligence, refinement, and health befitting a marquis household. As the third son of the marquis family, Trio was nothing more than their spare.

He received an education appropriate to a marquis house and mastered proper etiquette. When his father retired and his elder brother assumed the position of head, Trio was expected to function as a supporting pillar of the family. In time, he might be entrusted with territory along the outskirts of Labyrinth City or perhaps be married off to a neighboring noble house to strengthen alliances.

Even so, there was always the possibility of unforeseen circumstances. Trio never neglected the training in knowledge and conduct required of a family head. It was not an age of great war, nor did he harbor ambitions fierce enough to burn with thoughts of usurping power. To begin with, he possessed neither the authority, the funds, nor the soldiers necessary to weave schemes. He did not even have anything that could properly be called a faction.

Useless training and knowledge alone continued to pile up.

Even so, Trio could not stop.

His elder brother was both capable and in perfect health. His father, the current head, was still very much active. Neither wartime necessity nor succession demanded it, so why persist in such pointless effort? The people must have thought that he could simply enjoy a life of leisure. In fact, Trio had overheard conversations close to that sentiment from his father’s and brother’s retainers.

He felt anger and humiliation. But more than that, he resigned himself to the thought that it was an accurate assessment.

If only he could forget his status altogether and challenge the labyrinth, how much it might’ve cleared his mind. And yet, the nature he had been born with would not allow him to discard his role. Days of quiet frustration wrapped in peace drifted by in resignation. Perhaps this was simply what human life was. For someone as privileged as Trio to lament such things would amount to nothing more than shameful, indulgent worries.

Through the window, the distant clamor of the city faintly drifted in.

It was a celebratory day.

After the Unification War, a ceremony was being held to celebrate Bergana’s first conquerors. Even in the long history of Labyrinth City, it was an event worthy of special note. With the conquerors’ proof of martial might and access to the rare resources of the deep layers, Labyrinth City would surely achieve even greater prosperity. The information brought back by the Three Magic Attack, those who had become Conquerors, might give rise to a second, even a third Conqueror party.

Trio lowered his eyes to the book he had been reading. It was a history text that traced events back to before the Archipelago Countries had seized control of Labyrinth City. Ironically, while new history was being written, Trio was turning his gaze to the old.

Labyrinth City had brought prosperity to mankind, but at the same time it had invited endless war. The greatest of those conflicts was likely the Unification War fought a century ago. Dozens of nations and communities clashed, and in the end, the continent was divided into spheres of influence centered around the three great powers. One theory held that the total number of soldiers killed throughout the Unification War reached 500,000. If civilians were included, the number would swell further still, so much so that even scholars remained divided on the true number.

It was said that in the fierce battleground of Bergana alone, well over 100,000 soldiers had perished.

There were various theories regarding the cause of such escalation. One claimed that the Gundor family, then rulers of Bergana and a prestigious house of necromancers, resisted with utter disregard for appearances, inflaming the brutality of both armies. Though it sounded dubious, accounts claimed they had turned people into living explosives to target commanders and key positions, transformed abandoned corpses into undead, and even implanted monsters into the bodies of their own soldiers. The narrative emphasized that, condemned as atrocious acts, these deeds had fueled hatred and fear among soldiers, which in turn led to massacres of both troops and civilians, which was justified and defended as necessary retaliation.

What the truth was, Trio did not know. Even within a single community, values and perspectives differed. This history book, too, was merely the work of scholars from the victorious Archipelago Countries.

Trio shifted his gaze toward the slums spreading beyond his chambers. Members of his family paid them no heed. The residents, who rarely had the opportunity to even hold a book, had long since forgotten that horrific war. If anyone remembered, it would be historians or those directly involved.

Trio, who possessed both an external perspective and detailed knowledge of history, was an exception.

Faced with the weight of history, he drifted in a sea of thought only to realize its futility. Those without power could neither choose nor change the city’s future. He was nothing more than an observer.

Lowering himself into his armchair, he let out a breath. The unchanged room. The ceiling he had long grown tired of seeing. Reading books, conversing with scholars… another day of idle existence came to an end. Closing his eyes, he drifted toward drowsiness beneath the sunlight streaming through the window.

Then a deafening explosion and piercing screams jolted his consciousness into sharp clarity.

This was no trivial matter.

Grabbing the sword propped against the wall, Trio flung open the door leading into the corridor as though to break it from its hinges. His destination was the command post where generals and officers were stationed at all times.

He rushed through corridor after corridor, slipping past servants thrown into panic. The closer he drew to his destination, the more a sour, nauseating stench reached his nose. It was the smell of entrails during the dismembering of hunted prey.

He rounded a corner in a glide.

The passage leading to the command post was always guarded by at least four soldiers. Their armor was meticulously maintained without a speck of dirt, and together with the polished marble floor, it was clear that the area permitted no easy entry.

Trio stood speechless.

The white corridor had been unevenly smeared in dark crimson. Scattered across it were things that had once been human. Some retained a semblance of their original form, but none still breathed. Though hesitation seized him, Trio steeled himself and stepped forward. With each step, viscous liquid clung to the soles of his boots.

The great silver-ornamented doors had been damaged from within. Jamming his sword into the shattered gap, Trio forced them open. A foul stench, enough to twist one’s nose, burst outward in search of escape.

The command post was even more gruesome than the corridor.

Many of the dead sinking in pools of blood were missing parts of their bodies, killed instantly or by blood loss. Others, who outwardly appeared only lightly wounded, curled up in agony, pupils dilated as they died. Looking closely, amidst the blood-soaked metal fragments were pieces of white.

There were so few survivors in the room that they could be counted on one hand.

“What happened?!”

Trio called out to a soldier standing as if sleepwalking.

The man answered in a faltering voice, as though just awakened from a dream.

“I-I don’t know. They suddenly… burst. The people… before we realized… they were like this…”

The word burst stirred a sense of déjà vu within Trio. He understood.

“…Human bombs formed through necromantic rituals.”

An event spoken of only in history was now unfolding before his eyes.

An ominous premonition swirled within him and would not dissipate. Even the command post of the main castle, said to be the most heavily protected location in the city, was in this state. The city was holding a ceremony with security in place, but dignitaries were gathered in dense numbers.

A crisis was surely approaching.

“Is there anyone left among the communications staff?”

“Y-Yes, just me.”

“Connect to the ceremony venue at the guild branch. Father and my elder brother must return to the castle immediately and take command. We need to share information at once.”

The communications officer’s movements were sluggish. Their daily drills had never imagined comrades exploding or the command post being half-destroyed. Even so, if one did not act simply because something was unforeseen, what kind of soldier would that make them? Trio seized the man by both shoulders and looked him in the eye. Fortunately, his own hands were not trembling.

“Brace your core. Keep your wits about you. You’re the only communications officer left.”

Spurred on, the officer staggered to his seat and began operating the device. Once engaged in the task, his movements quickened.

“Yes, this is the main castle command post. Yes, similar explosions have occurred here as well. As for a superior officer currently confirmed… Lord Trio has arrived at the command post… Eh? That’s impossible…”

The officer’s teeth chattered, his breathing ragged, as he turned to Trio.

“…With deepest regret, I report. The Marquis, who was attending the ceremony, has p-passed away. The blood relatives of the Borgia family, including the heir apparent, were killed by human bombs.”

“Father and my brother… are dead?”

Dizziness overtook Trio, but he endured.

The more the words sank into his mind, the heavier their gravity pressed down upon him. If his father, brother, and the attending blood relatives had been wiped out, then the right of succession to the Borgia house would fall to him in an instant.

“Similar damage has occurred at other key facilities in the city. Furthermore, from unconfirmed underground shelters within the city, a massive army of undead and armed forces has emerged. 1000-man commander Edoardo who survived, is currently directing forces on site, but grasping the overall situation is difficult. He requests Your Lordship’s instructions regarding future policy.”

The communications officer leaned out from his chair and looked up at Trio as though clinging to him.

It was not just him.

The surviving soldiers and officers all fixed their gaze upon Trio. These were the eyes turned toward one who bore heavy responsibility. The weight of them sent a chill down his spine. Exhaling once, twice, steadying his breath, Trio issued his orders.

“All units around the guild branch are to be placed under the full authority of 1000-man commander Edoardo. Protect the dignitaries, and once forces are consolidated, commence the extermination of enemy elements. We will secure control within the castle while urgently re-establishing contact with any intact units. Aside from the communications officer and two others, the rest are to gather soldiers at once! Do not forget to request reinforcements from the border regions and surrounding territories!”

The soldiers rushed out of the room in obedience to a voice that surprised even Trio himself.

As nothing more than a mediocre man, there would be limits to what he could accomplish. Even so, Trio would inherit the role and fulfill his pride as the spare.

The days he had spent rotting away in his chambers came to an end without warning, without consideration.

Translator – Lyxxna