Ch.108But the people didn’t listen to me.

A building in the city of Fahrenheit.

It wasn’t much different from any other building on the street, but there was something peculiar about this one—unlike the madness raging in the streets outside, every tenant in this fifteen-story high-rise shared a pacifist temperament.

This was no coincidence but the result of the landlord’s deliberate efforts, quietly promoting the building through underground channels. Thanks to this, the dwindling pacifist faction of Fahrenheit could find refuge here, free from the thunderous incitement of hatred and contempt that echoed throughout the city.

Creeeeak… Clunk!

The front door of the building opened, and four people entered carrying baskets full of bread. The rest of the tenants, who had been waiting, rushed toward them.

Most pacifists had already become recognizable faces in the area, making it difficult for them to obtain necessities. Only the few who remained anonymous could still procure essential items like food.

“How are things out on the streets these days?”

“Don’t even ask. It’s full of lunatics. All they talk about is revenge and war… I’m absolutely sick of it.”

Rustle… rustle…

The tenants reached into the bread baskets to take their share, sighing as they reflected on their miserable situation.

The reason they maintained their pacifist stance despite witnessing the atrocities of the United Federation was simple—it was for their own benefit.

Not the most honorable reason, perhaps, but what advantage could possibly come from war? Hiding in a corner of this building, hurriedly stuffing cold bread into their mouths was a hundred times better than war.

Moreover, the fact that they had been living in hiding for years while consistently paying rent and having the financial means to collectively purchase necessities made them perfect stereotypes of the “traitors” that people in the streets were calling for war against. If information about this “sanctuary” were to leak, the brief lives they were living would collapse instantly.

“Ah… I miss the taste of coffee… and the aroma of black tea…”

“I can’t even remember the last time I ate a freshly baked scone…”

“Damn it! We can’t live like this forever! Our money isn’t unlimited, you know!”

After the prolonged semi-forced confinement, the tenants began to voice their complaints one by one.

It had been over three years since Fahrenheit had fallen into this state—they had spent more than twice the length of a 2023 Korean military service trapped in a single building.

Their frustrations were understandable, but the problem was that the situation was only getting worse.

Even ordinary soldiers, not just knights, were going mad alongside the citizens. In the marketplaces, people were openly hunting down officials they disliked, denouncing them as “Amurtat spies” before burning them alive.

“If you have complaints, you’re free to leave. If you’re confident you can survive out there.”

“…”

At those words, the tenants finished chewing their bread, gathered their portions, and returned to their rooms.

“Sigh…”

The people who had ventured outside exhaled deeply and, leaning against the entrance door, began discussing how long they could hold out.

“How long do you think we can last?”

“Two years at most?”

“Is that long… or short…?”

“The landlord told me that yesterday afternoon, extremists came to his house with torches. Fortunately, he managed to appease them with some money, but… I wonder how long this building, right in the middle of the street, can hold out…”

“I hate to say this, but if the landlord leaks information that pacifists are gathered here, we’re as good as dead.”

The situation was desperate.

The times demanded revenge and war, and the people wanted swords rather than bread.

Whether they could survive in the streets of Fahrenheit was something only the angels would know, so they began to place their thin thread of hope in their last chance.

“Perhaps… His Majesty the Grand Duke could resolve this chaos.”

“As if. If he could, we would have won the war in the first place.”

“But is there any other option?”

“No.”

The conversation ended there.

Today, not a single voice could be heard from the hotel, while in the streets, frenzied propagandists with fire in their eyes continued to incite the people.

*

Fatigue.

And beyond that, ennui.

And beyond even that ennui, disillusionment.

These were the emotions felt by Marcus, the current Grand Duke of Fahrenheit.

“How did it ever come to this…”

He had tried.

He had worked tirelessly day and night to revive the crumbling economy and restore the shattered prestige of the nation.

But his efforts alone were not enough.

Their citizens could not accept, tolerate, or understand having everything they had achieved over 300 years taken away. They would not overlook foreign armies raping and slaughtering their relatives or plundering their property.

Therefore, the Grand Duke’s call to “do better from now on” did not reach his people.

Do better from now on?

What exactly?

Their homes had already been burned and looted, leaving nothing behind. Their wives, daughters, and mothers had been violated and lost their chastity. All the historical artifacts, beautiful artworks, and awe-inspiring academic treasures that Fahrenheit had accumulated over hundreds of years had been completely taken away.

And yet, “let’s do better from now on”?

Nonsense.

If something was taken, it should rightfully be reclaimed.

If words failed, then with fists; if negotiations failed, then with swords and arrows.

Humanity on this continent had resolved conflicts this way for thousands of years, and now another conflict had begun.

And this conflict was a fierce flame that would burn both Fahrenheit and the United Federation to ashes, leaving no choice but to fight fire with fire.

“Is this truly the only path?”

Marcus gritted his teeth.

Lukewarm wine that he hadn’t managed to swallow dripped from between his pale lips, but Marcus had no time to worry about decorum now.

Despite sitting in the arrogant position of Grand Duke, he was not immune to outrage.

He was the first Fahrenheit, and would remain the only one to be the last Fahrenheit.

For the past 300 years, tens of millions of souls had been born and died in his domain, and he had literally watched their achievements in real-time, engraving the beauty of Fahrenheit deep in his heart.

To suggest that he was not outraged? Absurd. In fact, the wrath of one Grand Duke might be more terrifying than the anger of ten million citizens.

Because he was Fahrenheit, and Fahrenheit was him.

But…

Because he was more furious than anyone, he could not allow himself to be angry.

Because he hated more intensely than anyone, he could not allow himself to hate.

Since Fahrenheit would end the moment he died, he could not choose a path of destruction.

But his citizens were different.

They were mortals who would die sooner or later anyway, so how they ended their lives was their own decision.

Simply put, if they died before the country perished, that would be the end of it.

It could only be called selfish, but those who had thoroughly rationalized that the world that made them selfish was to blame needed no further truth.

“Advisor.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Fortunately, Marcus’s authority was still alive.

The knights, standard-bearers, officials, and advisors were still loyal to Marcus, so there was still a chance to set things right.

If even this final attempt failed… the North would burn once again.

“Send a messenger to the United Federation…”

“To the United Federation… sir?”

“Yes. I will try my best to resolve the situation, but if war breaks out, they may turn all of Fahrenheit into a sea of flames.”

“Your Majesty…! Those words…!”

The advisor was shocked by the content the messenger would carry.

How could words permitting the slaughter of his own people and the burning of cities come from the mouth of a Grand Duke?

“I will give my people a chance. To follow me one last time, or to surrender themselves to the power of destruction.”

“Your Majesty…”

In simple terms, this meant civil war.

In truth, it was a great gamble—there was no guarantee that those who followed the monarch would be against a war of revenge, and there were still plenty who disliked both war and their ruler.

“I am the Grand Duke of Fahrenheit. In this country, there is no one stronger than I.”

Nevertheless, the reason he had to step forward was clear.

There could be no more powerful shock than the Grand Duke himself standing before the masses and shouting “Stop the war!”

In this world, a monarch was literally a living god, and humans generally lived according to divine will.

If the hostility was strong enough to break even divine will, the Grand Duke would have no choice but to watch with tears as his people drove themselves to the slaughterhouse.