On the 3rd Epoch, 2nd Era—Red Sea Era Year 1622,
Clavanus Verthal, King of Burthoran, a small kingdom of the Northern Continent arose to become a ruler. He was the people's ember, a revolutionary who dethroned the former king of Burthoran, Maelstorm Rekai. His charisma was said to be able to bless the sick and the weak.
It's fascinating to read about how scholars and scribes of their era describe him. Skinny man with bright red hair like a rose, holding a hammer forged by the Dwarves, its presence legendary and commanded respect. Clavanus was said to be hot-headed but cold in important moments, wielding his hammer that could shatter mountains. He rallied the people of the cold north and replaced the king in just two years.
The reason why the people willingly followed King Clavanus was recorded was because of their fervour devotion to him. In some stories, they claim that King Clavanus was a prophet, a leader that the God, The Heavenly Sun God, appointed to lead the people. Which is also why he was called the People's Ember, as everywhere he goes, he lights up the flame inside them.
His rule lasted for 25 years, abruptly stopping as he was assassinated, and soon his daughter, Nikale Verthal, stepped up on the throne and stabilized the chaotic kingdom, who mourned for their heroic king's death.
Not much is known as to how the king was killed, some say he was poisoned, others claim he was killed by his daughter, Queen Nikale. Many theories and hypotheses were made but the royal family never made a statement to address the issue. Which itself was highly suspicious, a decision that costed them their lives.
A radical group that followed King Clavanus, called themselves the Red Parting, created a magic circle that encompassed the entire capital along with the Dwarves. Activation of the magic circle happened when Queen Nikale was about to give birth to a heir and the capital ceased to exist. On the North Continent, a large crevice marked itself for thousands of millenium to come.
Even today, we can see what damage the magic circle did to the world and how the Red Parting created such a thing of mass destruction, we never know. But an idea was highly debated amongst scholar of today that what the Red Parting created was not a magic weapon of destruction, but rather, a large bomb.
They claim that the bomb was set to deploy at the center of the capital by the Red Parting, and that the dwarves were the ones who made them in partnership with the Red Parting.
There may have been biases from their claims, but some of us do think that was the case. After all, the dwarves were plotting to control the world and only they were of close proximity to the kingdom as their native homeland was the Northern Continent.
If a magical circle that large were to be constructed, the resources pushed for the creation of it would have sucked any large empires dry, much regardless the Red Parting group who were said to only have 20 members. It would've been illogical to throw so many resources just to destroy one part of the kingdom.
And to activate the circle? They would've needed help of atleast 2 Arch Class Theoretical Magic Affinity users to power the magic circle.
The tale of the kingdom of Burthoran is filled with fascinating mysteries which I would explore in this book...
***
A thin hand reached out of the curtained throne, reaching for a doll's hand. The doll grabbed the thin hand gently, then carefully pulled the owner of the hand out of the curtains, revealing a robed figure.
A small crown, nay it was too small and simple to be called a crown, a ring like headdress. One that showed to the world a symbolism which other kingdoms will not dare copy.
Infront of the throne at the sides of the walls were 30 individuals, all kneeling down, paying respect to their Crown. Behind the throne were the politicians, the diplomats, the Council.
A man with mechanical arms beside the robed figure, guarding them, a doll by the figure's side, helping them.
And infront of the robed figure, a man wearing a black uniform embroidered with red streak linings and golden tints. Infront of him were 2 firearms, a cane, a pure white mask, and a hunting hat.
The man knelt deeper as the robed figure walked closer. Soon, the figure was just a few feet away from the man. The figure gestured for the man, holding his head with their thin hands.
"Good afternoon to you, child."
"It's an honor to be in the Crown's presence."
The robed figure, the Crown smiled and sat down on a huge armchair that some of the knights pushed.
The Crown nodded their head while Rueben gently grabbed their hand and kissed the ring located on their middle finger. After doing so, he softly pushed the hand to touch his forehead and slowly stood up.
Arshavin stared at him for a moment. A clean-shaven man with shoulder long hair tied into a ponytail, a muscular frame with a tall figure.
Eyes crimson, but no signs of madness or mental illnesses. Arshavin observed the man infront of him, one of the few people that the Crown named the Younger Generation.
Though he somewhat feels that the name "Younger Generation" couldn't be applied to Rueben Mortimer, one of his peers. After all, he looks somewhere about in his middle ages.
A somewhat wrinkled face, he would've looked older if he had a beard, but overall, he wasn't someone that would fit the description of the "Younger" generation.
"It seems you took your time to come here."
Rueben flinched as the Crown chuckled, "It is okay, child. Just a bit of joking, after all, everyone here is way too stiff."
The Crown let out a laugh, but the crowd didn't laugh with them under Arshavin's scrutinizing gaze, especially those on front standing in attention, ready to battle anyone that aims to hurt the Crown.
The Crown clicked their tongue before focusing their attention towards the child infront of them.
"I... I was busy cleaning myself, My Crown. I don't dare to meet Their Excellence with unrefined appearance."
"Unrefined appearance? That's new."
The Crown let out another chuckle.
"...Have you gone to therapy recently?" The Crown smiled while Rueben shut his mouth.
"Mn, i see." Their eyes hidden by the robe shone, a deep crimson dim emated from the robes.
"Child, you are corrupted. Far too much. Your "soul" somehow managed to keep itself from breaking apart, crumbling into tiny little shards of glass, piece by piece. I do hope you go find someone to talk to. No, someone who can listen to you."
"..."
"Well, i won't force you to do so." The Crown let out a soft sigh before grabbing the small paper that Arshavin held out for them.
"Back to business, child. I need you to go north-east, beyond our territory. There should be a caravan with a line of refugees that is trying to circle out of the forest and avoid us."
Rueben stiffened his shoulders and listened well.
"I want you to convince whoever led that refugee caravan to enter the forest, we will accept them as one of ours. If the sources are correct, their leader should be someone named Ilariel Hourford. Thought to be a genius tactician or something."
The Crown pushed their hand forward as they ordered, "Invite his entire caravan to become citizens of our city. If they do accept, that would mean a higher population of talents for our country, if not, well..."
The Crown smiled, "We'll let them be. Our Country is already infamous in the entire continent, commiting mass slaughter against refugees will only throw our reputation down to shit."
The Crown then casually pulled out a mirror and pushed it towards Rueben while they spoke, "I also need you to go further north-east, somewhere on the Mountains of Olympius where the Church of the Crimson Moon's holy city resides. You will be on a small espionage mission along with another to scout out the place."
The Crown then watched as Rueben held the small mirror like object, which transformed into a ring, and wore it on his right hand.
"We don't need deep information about the current matters of the Chruch, just the surface level ones. I will send more people after the southern front is successfully defended."
The Crown then flicked their wrist and a small mirror appeared which Rueben immediately took.
"This mirror is a portal to here. If you somehow get caught, activate the mirror and it will swallow you and spit you back here."
Nodding his head, Rueben took a look at the mirror which transformed into a small earring. Putting the crystal glass like earring on, he bowed down to the Crown.
The Crown chuckled and nodded their head.
"Now go."
"By your will."
***
Deep in the forest, a small mouse looked around, upon knowing that no predator was watching, the mouse moved to climb a tree and grabbed a small fruit. The mouse ate the fruit before grabbing another.
At a distance, a small snake like creature slithered silently, intending to devour the mouse as it found its location.
Just as the snake was about to pounce for the mouse, heavy footsteps vibrated the earth beneath them. The snake, upon sensing danger, swiftly left the place and burrowed down in the ground while the mouse looked down from the tree as it saw a man riding a horse go past it.
The man on the top was holding a map, looking at it while the horse galloped slowly.
Grabbing a compass, he slowly calculated where he was and where the supposed target was.
"They should be around here..."
Rueben pressed his hat, then he pulled the reins gently, the horse immediately knew what he wanted and silently stopped running. It walked slowly as Rueben took out a small lantern and shone the dark forest.
"..."
Licking his upper lips, he gestured the horse to a tree. He got off the horse and let it be as he marked something in his map.
"...There." He whispered underneath his breath as a caravan slowly trutted towards him.
Seeing an unknown man standing on the side of the road, the people tensed up, some placed their hands on the handle of their weapons as Rueben continued to stare at them.
Contemplating his words, he coughed and pushed his arms up in the air to signal that he came with no hostile intentions. One of the men stared at him for a moment. His eyes narrowing with caution as he got off the horse he was riding.
The man pushed his mask deeper into his face as he slowly walked towards Rueben. Rueben gave him a side eye, feeling the soft uneasy steps that the man was walking.
He grabbed his hat and pressed it into his chest and bowed.
The man stared at him for a moment, then bowed his head slowly.
"...May i ask who you are..?"
A soft voice, Rueben stared at the man's frame. Slim, short shoulders.
Is he sick? I think so....
He thought to himself as he spoke, "I am Rueben Mortimer, a Hunter of Arkvem."
As the last syllable of the word Arkvem came out of Rueben's mouth, everyone from the caravan pulled out their swords, their eyes darkened in fear as sweat started flowing from their skin.
"..." The leading man gave him a glance, then pushed his arm high up in the air while clenching his fists.
The men flinched for a moment, staring at Rueben warily. They sheated their weapons but continued to stare at him.
"..It... Is an honor to meet a Hunter from Arkvem. If i may ask, why have a powerful warrior like you come to our caravan?"
Rueben contemplated his words, then he spoke, "I have orders from Their Excellence, the Crown. The orders are to invite you and your people to our nation. He explicitly told me to treat all of you well, especially you, leader of the caravan well."
"..."
The man narrowed his eyes, his fist clench tightly in wary. Seeing their leader's shoulders tense, his people too tensed up as they watched Rueben with caution.
"If we choose to refuse your offer?"
Rueben bowed his head slightly and spoke, "Then i will pull out and leave you and your people be. I and my people swear to Almer."
The man squinted his eyes and turned to his men.
Their eyes communicated to him that if he ever moved suspiciously, they will unsheathe their blades and attack him even if it's at the cost of their lives.
"...Do you know who i am?" The thin man asked, probing.
Rueben gave his people behind him a glance for a moment, before focusing on the leader and spoke, "If i may presume, are you Mr. Ilariel Hourford?"
"..."
Seeing the man infront of them, blocking their passage to the Vile Blood territory, Illariel gulped down his saliva. Forcing himself to stop shaking, he spoke to the man once more.
"Why is your country accepting refugees so randomly, i have heard of rumours that Arkvem is a secluded country that almost never accepts refugees this easily."
He couldn't understand. After all, if someone claims to come from another country and invites you to become one of theirs, you can't help but think that it wasn't true. It's too good to be true, after all.
Being taken in by Arkvem might be good, but the rumours about their country are still fresh in their minds.
A country that willingly inject themselves with the cursed blood that can heal any wounds in exchange for your mind. If all of their citizens, as from the rumour says, do inject themselves with the blood, then wouldn't it be unwise to become citizens there?
For all he know, they might get killed once inside and become monster food.
"...I was told to tell you, sir Ilariel, that you are a talented tactician, a talent that Arkvem currently desperately need for growth. That is all they ordered me to say."
"..." Ilariel stared at the man infront of him.
Only wearing a dark brown coat with a hat that covered most of his eyes, holding with him a cane. He could see a sliver of something shining beneath the coat, a firearm, perhaps? Standing there calmly, letting the wind of the dark sky blow past him, calm and undeterred.
Should be an expert. Arkvem sent an expert to invite us? What does this mean? Ilariel thought to himself as his men waited for his orders.
If he so choose, 400 something men would dash towards the Hunter and sacrifice themselves, for him and his people.
Ilariel knew that if he ordered such a command, they wouldn't hesitate to execute his orders. He knew what their overall strength as a group are, but against an unknown enemy, a Hunter no less, known to be quite deadly in combat, they would certainly lose.
Gulping silently, he weighed the odds in his mind.
If he accepts the offer, they might be able to finally rest from being a nomadic refugee, gain citizenship and protection in a city but there is a high chance they would be used as bait for beasts if it comes to it.
On the other hand, if they refuse, the hunter did say that "he would just let them leave" but he can't trust a word out of the suspicious man. If they refuse, he might just kill all of them in the name of "disrespecting their crown" or "orders of the crown"....
Ilariel weighed the odds as he added some more.
His people need food to feed their hunger and water to quench their thirst. Accepting the offer will give them those resources.
But the danger of being used as bait, nay, if the rumours are true, then to be used as experiments would be highly likely to happen.
Ilariel stared at the hunter, then turned to his people.
Shaking behind the carriages, their skin rough, their bodies malnourished, faces looked like skeletons from the lack of nutrition. His men, skinny, still fierce but underneath those fierce eyes were exhaustion.
Closing his eyes, he contemplated his decision with clenched fists before opening them.
"We would be honored to be welcomed by the Crown's grace." Ilariel bowed his head, his men stared at him with shaking eyes.
Some had anger in them, others had fear, but ultimately, everyone knew what their leader was thinking, what Ilariel was thinking.
They shivered as they bowed down.
Rueben stared at the scene with cold eyes, crimson glint flash within as he stood silently.
Though, there was a storm raging inside him, a storm of confusion and more confusion.
Why are they bowing their heads at me? Why are they shivering? Are they scared? But i already dealt with all the beasts near this area. Could it be because they didn't know?
"....I've already dealt with it." Rueben spoke softly.
Ilarial flinched, and bowed his head deeper, "Thank you for your blessings."
"..."
Rueben stared at the entire caravan bowing their heads at him with a blank stare, he nodded his head.
"Arkvem is happy to have a famed tactician in our ranks. Tell me, what i can do to help everyone of you before we travel to Arkvem."
"Travel to Arkvem together? My lord, there is no need—"
"Don't call me a lord, Mr. Hourford, please save those titles for those higher rank of me..."
H-Higher rank!? According to the rumours, Hunters of Arkvem are weapons of mass destruction, one man armies and now one of them came to tell me that there are even people more powerful than them!?
Ilariel thought to himself as he shivered, his eyes shaking. He forced himself to calm down as he asked Rueben with a meek expression on his face.
"If i may ask, sir Mortimer, what rank are you in...?"
Rueben turned to him with a confused face and spoke, "Me?The lowest, of course. I'm just a foot soldier compared to them."
Ilariel heard something that blew his mind.