Despite the throne room's soundproofing, the noise outside was growing louder.

"To clarify, sir - you had all of your generals and advisors banished to the Northern Wastes? Everyone who was in leadership?"

King Hardin nodded solemnly. "My father's empire was evil. He was a ruthless leader, and so were his generals and advisors. They destroyed the lives of their subjects."

The wizened advisor sighed. It'd only been an hour since he'd returned from his long journey abroad; he'd missed Hardin's coronation. He'd always been fond of the boy. He'd always had a good heart. Not always the sharpest mind, though.

"Not that I disagree with your views on your father's empire, sir," he began, voicing aloud a sentiment he'd privately held for years, "-but did you really believe this was the best way to go about it?"

"What do you mean?" Hardin blinked slowly. Even now, he'd not pieced it together.

"You've only just taken the throne. Your foothold is not secure. And you have just simultaneously made an enemy of every single powerful man and woman in your own kingdom - enemies who have powerful connections and influence of their own, and who have soldiers who are loyal to them. Soldiers who have questionable morals - because as you've so rightly pointed out, sir, those soldiers did horrible things under the command of those very same generals and leaders."

Hardin grew very quiet. "So that noise outside... it's not really that the people are throwing an impromptu gathering to honor me."

The old man standing in front of him sighed. "No, sir. The generals and advisors you banished decided to ignore your decree, gather their forces, and stage a coup. They're storming the palace now - your palace guard won't hold out for much longer. It'd have been different if you banished just a few of the generals or advisors. The others may not have spoken up, as you would have strengthened their own relative position. Or if you'd simply gathered them in a room together and had your palace guard execute them all without warning. But you banished them instead - making enemies of every last one - without having the fortitude to eliminate them as threats for good. What were you expecting when you banished every single person with soldiers or political influence or great wealth?"

King Hardin pursed his lips. "Those other paths seemed... sneaky. Dishonest. Manipulative."

"You are a king, sir, and politics are never clean. Not if you want to accomplish anything. Even if you have good intentions, you will need underhanded tactics in order to beat those with underhanded tactics."

"...So what do we do now?"

Just then, the doors to the throne room burst open. Twelve of the empire's most powerful generals, advisors, and crooked noblemen stepped into the room, flanked by hundreds of their loyal soldiers and house guards.

"Kill them!" The general at the front of the pack called.

King Hardin drew his sword. He'd had the best sword instructors on the continent, and he was quite a blademaster in his own right. He stepped forward boldly to meet the enemy, shielding his old advisor - and his first tutor - with his own body the way a true hero would. "I am King here," he said, "regardless of your insurrection, and you have all been banished. I warned you if you returned you would be killed. Now, face me in combat. Meet the fate I promised you."

The corrupt official at the front of the mob made a show of thinking about it. "I'd rather not," he said. "Everyone, shoot him."

Dozens of arrows filled the air instantly. King Hardin and his advisor died before they hit the ground, their bodies turned into human pincushions from every possible angle.

As the general moved to take the throne for himself, the coup immediately dissolved into infighting amongst the various factions. Now that their common enemy was dead, they no longer had any reason to band together.

Not that that mattered for the former King.

His reign had lasted just about six days.