In magnificent robes coloured in royal purple and bearing the coat of arms of the ruling house in large letters, the regent Gabriela was sitting at her desk now. She had now moved to the king's larger study, but her work seemed to pile up in the same way as before. Although she had already delegated some areas and activities to newly appointed secretaries and so on, they first had to familiarise themselves with their subject matter and organise themselves, so that they could handle things with the necessary efficiency and competence. In any case, the problems were piling up. The country was in turmoil and her appointment as the new ruler had caused further resentment among some. She couldn't care less what the population thought anyway, but some noble houses had now distanced themselves and were clearly unsure of how to deal with the new situation. This turmoil paralysed the country and paralysed the preparations for mobilisation to a considerable extent, which was the bigger problem. She now was busy day and night sending diplomatic delegations and, if necessary, troops to bring those who were wavering back in line. Most of them would submit again in this way.

  Gabriela got a headache and looked up from her work. She pondered for a moment, then got up and decided to go for a walk to have a quick break. When Lucius heard her door lock click shut, he also came out into the corridor. "Are you going for a walk? Can I come too, mum?" - "Yes, you can. Didn't we talk about you addressing me as 'mother' in the future, or 'Your Majesty' when we're at official events?" - "Yes. Sorry......, mother!" The two of them dressed up for the cold outside and set off to stroll through the huge palace gardens. At this time of year, everything was frozen and seemingly lifeless. But there was also a pleasant calm that the snow-covered nature conveyed. It allowed one’s thoughts to wander off for a moment, as if the worries of the world were disappearing as you walked through the winter landscape.

  "There's something I'd like to know, mum," her son said to her. The ruler replied: "What is it, Lucius?" - "You've often told me that our family was one of the main players in the 'Righteous Revolution' 80 years ago. But what really happened back then?" The lady was a little surprised by her child's question. However, she immediately realised, she had already told him several times, that she’d tell him more about the things she had not yet been able to reveal to him. In the past he might have blabbed it in his childish naivety, but it seemed to her that the boy was now mature enough to finally be told a little more. She began to speak: "The ancestors of our house, the Cornels, had once decided in a secret council to overthrow the old imperial house. However, it seems that my grandfather and his allies made the wrong choice for the future ruling house. We have now corrected that mistake, even if it has caused us damage. But it was unavoidable." The boy listened to her intently.

  "From what I learnt from my father, when he was still alive, they poisoned the last Melgarion Empress Elisabeth. With her last breath, she cursed us with her words 'that only evil should forthwith befall our lineage' or something like that. But don't worry, Junior, God wasn't on her side. Her curses meant nothing. It’s all bark and no bite! The entire lineage of these demons were all eliminated at the same time in one big, coordinated effort. They may have superhuman abilities, but none of them are infallible or even immortal! In the end, they were all humans just like us!" The two walked on, past snow-covered garden sculptures and currently empty fountains. Lucius thought about what he had heard and then replied: "I understand why the Melgarions and their followers had to disappear and that the Melgarists are the bad guys. But wouldn't we then have to destroy their knowledge of witchcraft? Yet, you keep their knowledge here in the library still."

  Gabriela replied: "Almost nobody has access to it anyway. I've already explained to you that I'm trying to understand magic somehow, so that I might be able to make it accessible to non-magicians. But that doesn't seem to work, at least not without very special items that Melgar himself once left behind. And even using these is not easy and I almost never succeed." - "So the knowledge of witchcraft will remain secret, right?" - "Yes." - "And what will you do if the Melgarists want to steal it?" Gabriela thought for a moment and then said with a serious face: "I'd rather see the knowledge destroyed than let it fall into their hands!" Now they were already back at the stairs leading up to the palace. The foot-stomping had come to an end and the two stopped talking about topics that should remain private. Before he sat down to study again, Lucius hugged his mum and said, "Love you, mum!" He had addressed her wrongly again. "I love you too," she quickly replied. Then it was back to work.

  Lucius closed his room’s door behind him. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out an object. It was the old king's signet ring. The boy looked at it closely and turned it over in his fingers. "M.R." could be read on the seal. The boy knew what the abbreviation meant. That was exactly why he had stolen it from his mother's desk drawer, who wanted to destroy it. "Now does this thing have magical powers?" he asked himself. He put it on his finger and put his hand out in front of him. Nothing happened. The boy said a few ancient Camenian words, which he hoped had something to do with magic. Nothing again. He took the ring off again and pocketed it. He was sure that he would eventually find out how the ring worked. Unfortunately, he was just wasting his time. It was just a simple signet ring, without any magical properties.

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  The great war council of the Martyrs was now convened. Everyone was present: Field Marshal Theodor, Chief of Staff August, the Chosen One Wenzel and his bodyguards, countless generals and commanders, such as Ulrich, Tassilo, Wienand and many others who Wenzel didn’t know by name. The tent was full to bursting with people. August led the presentation. "So, comrades, here it is, our plan! I've dubbed it "operation evenfall". Call it whatever you like, but this is the result of my preparations." He cleared his throat and then began his explanations. "In view of the fact that our enemy is losing more and more support in the country and that his forces are mainly strong when he concentrates them, we will do the opposite. Our strength lies in the masses and the people, as well as attacks by small groups of professional fighters. Hence, I have drawn up a plan here to make the great leap of the revolution on 4.3.462! It envisages our men storming and taking over the centres of power in all the major cities of the empire at the same time." Everyone listened eagerly. Wenzel was already completely astonished by the sheer size and scope of the operation.

  "Just as the field marshal had once said, we will be the tidal wave that sweeps away the old and all the evil. The operation will start shortly after sunset, which will be around seven thirty. Then the signal is given with the trumpets and it’s go time. The weapons and many of our people have already infiltrated the respective cities and are laying there in waiting. According to my sources, while the regime troops are gathering their forces to launch a concentrated attack here in the east, where our headquarters are, we’ll be somewhere else entirely!" He then laid out some huge pieces of parchment, which were more like posters, on the tables. "Everyone has an assigned team under the leadership of a general or field marshal lieutenant. Assignments are non-negotiable." The last statement was accompanied by a look from August towards Wenzel. Apparently, he was specifically referring to him. That was unsurprising, considering that the organisation had a strict hierarchy and chain of command and that desertion or refusal to obey orders was punishable by death! But Wenzel didn't always want to be the exception to everything anyway.

  So, the presenter made his closing statement: "Gentlemen, in a few days we will make history. May this day go down in history as the great day of the revolution. God willing!" Everyone patted themselves on the heart three times, including Wenzel. "Long live Ordania!" he then proclaimed. Everyone joined in: "Long live Ordania!" - "Long live the Chosen One! Praise the martyrs! Freedom or death!" The men repeated each of the exclamations fervently and at the top of their voices. When this was finished, they all rushed to the table to see where they were allotted. Wenzel wanted to go and see too, but August took him by the arm and pulled him aside. "You don't need to look. You're in my team." - "Okay," said Wenzel, "and where..." - "Meglarsbruck. We're going to take the old capital. That's okay with you, isn't it?" The young man showed some doubt. He knew the city inside out, of course. After all, he had grown up there. What worried him was that he now remembered his vision from back then. Would the city be destroyed now? "We don't want to destroy the capital, do we?" Somewhat perplexed, the chief of staff replied: "What? No, of course not! We want to take over the city, which, as I've already explained, means taking over the administrative buildings and barracks. If something gets destroyed in the process, so be it, but vandalism is not our credo." - "I see," replied Wenzel. He was sceptical. What would become of the city? He was sure it would be destroyed. His visions had never deceived him before.

  Now the great campaign was underway. Wenzel trained a little and coordinated with the members of his team, which of course included Brahm and Ferenc, but also a whole company of other soldiers. Theodor was not assigned to them. Instead, he was tasked with conquering the current capital of the usurpers, Greifenburg. The other large cities, such as Freistadt, Guldingen, Filden and others, were assigned to generals or field marshal lieutenants. Two days later, Wenzel received a suit of plate armour that had been on order for some time. It took ages to put it on, but it fit him. This was only logical after the armourer had tailored it to fit him. But the boy's nervousness grew from day to day and from hour to hour.

  Finally, the big day of departure arrived. Early in the morning, all the soldiers of the Martyrs’ Brigades held a mass together in the open air. The priest processed a huge icon of St Elizabeth and, of course, one of Melgar. The lad didn't think much of it all, but he joined in out of solidarity. As far as he had realised, Elisabeth had been the last empress of the Melgarions. She was murdered and, according to the Old Believers, died a martyr's death. When all the formalities were completed, everyone packed up their belongings. The Martyrs’ Brigades left the headquarters with no intention of returning. They would either succeed or perish! Their motto made this clear. It wasn’t just empty words. The ball had started rolling. There was no turning back now!