[The Great Empire]
Emperor Sylvius Lockhart Mavis. The so-called Devourer of Lands.
Inside his private room in the coliseum, he watched with bored eyes as the warriors in the arena fought to their deaths. Hundreds of spectators cheered, their stomping feet making the ground rumble. The scent of blood and sweat permeated the air as the spectators frenziedly urged the warriors to kill each other.
Eventually, one of the warriors was stabbed in the chest and fell limp to the ground, lifeless. Seeing this, the entire coliseum burst into cheers.
The coliseum is really the best place to relax.
The Emperor did not mind the deafening shouts from the outside.
He had grown tired of seeing death and blood. What he looked forward to the most whenever he came here was the frenzied spectators. It was amazing, even his meekest subjects would turn into demons the moment they stepped foot in the coliseum. The way they repeatedly shouted for slaughter, for the warriors to kill each other, one would think they were demon incarnates.
The Emperor loved seeing human nature at its truest form. To him, there was no place more relaxing than this private room inside the coliseum.
"And now! Today's main event!" The Coliseum Master's voice echoed with the help of a magic tool. "A slave from the White Stream Oasis! A champion who has remained undefeated in this coliseum for the past three years!"
One of the gates in the arena opened and a dark-skinned man, probably in his mid-thirties, came out, two swords on his back. Strapped on his legs were several daggers. He was really ugly; his face looked as though it had been ripped off by some strange beast.
"The undefeated!" shouted the Coliseum Master. "The invincible!
The undisputed champion of the arena! Scarface!"
The crowd cheered and stomped their feet. The entire coliseum shook.
"And his opponent!" said the Coliseum Master. "A ferocious beast seen only in the White Stream Oasis! A creature capable of tearing a band of mercenaries on its own!"
The gate opposite to where Scarface came out opened. Loud thuds were heard, along with an ominous growl. A white creature around four meters tall came out, its muscular arm holding a stone mace. One of the two black horns on his head was missing. Its face greatly resembled the goblins.
"A full-grown adult! A desert troll! A top predator in White Stream Oasis! ?ext only to the devouring worms!"
The desert troll roared as though announcing its appearance to the world. Hearing this, the crowd turned silent for a second, before bursting into cheers.
"A desert troll!"
"It's the first time I've seen one!"
"Kill that monster, Scarface! I've bet my entire fortune on you, you damn bastard!"
The crowd was ecstatic. Even the Emperor's interest was piqued by this fight. He'd been watching Scarface's fights for the past few years, and the slave never lost a single fight in this arena. The Emperor wondered how the arena's top dog would fare against this monster.
The gates closed and the gong was struck. On cue, the troll leapt toward Scarface and swung its mace with all its might.
"Emperor!"
A soldier entered the Emperor's private room without advice.
The Emperor glared, annoyed that the soldier was interrupting him during such time. The report better be something urgent and worthwhile, otherwise, he would immediately have him executed after this fight.
"What?"
"A silver-sealed message from the southern border! From General Lazarus!"
"From General Lazarus?"
The soldier knelt down and presented the letter to the Emperor.
After opening it and reading its contents, the Emperor's shook. He could no longer hear the ecstatic shouts from the spectators, the roar from the troll.
His entire mind was in turmoil. He stared at the letter for a long time.
The letter came from the General Lazarus, the highest-ranking officer in the southern border. According to him, the sixty thousand-strong army of the Empire had been defeated by the Kingdom of Lukas.
The two generals who'd protected the Great Empire for decades perished along with fifty thousand soldiers.
Emperor Sylvius trembled. He could not believe that both the Magic Slayer and the Ghost of the Empire had just died in battle. Those two had lain waste to the Empire's enemy for numerous years. Just hearing their names was enough for their enemies to tremble in fear.
Losing them was definitely a terrible blow to the Empire.
"E-Emperor?"
Seeing the enraged Emperor, the soldier could not help but pray to the Gods for dear life. He fervently prayed that the Emperor would spare his life.
Emperor Sylvius snapped out of his stupor. He abruptly stood up.
"Gather the ministers, the princes, and the Generals of the Capital. Tell them to gather in the throne room an hour from now."
The crowd in the coliseum cheered after the champion of the arena beheaded the desert troll. But the Emperor no longer cared. He had lost interest in the battle after reading the message.
The middle-aged man's eyes glimmered dangerously.
"Lark Marcus. Sword Saint Alexander." The Emperor gnashed his teeth. "Just wait. The moment I've taken care of the Mullgray Islands and Everfrost, the two of you'll be next."
*** Three weeks had passed since the war at the Western Front ended.
The Coalition Army finally returned to the capital to a hero's welcome.
Tens of thousands of residents of Behemoth City went out of their homes and crowded the streets, cheering as the soldiers passed through.
Mellifluous music filled the entire capital as everyone celebrated the return of the Kingdom's heroes. Free porridge, rye bread, mead and jerkies were handed out to everyone all over the city in celebration of the Kingdom's victory.
While the entire city was in a festive mood, the officers of the Coalition Army were summoned into the King's castle.
"Welcome, heroes." King Alvis was beaming as he looked at the military officers kneeling before him. "I summoned all of you here today to reward you for your accomplishments. This is a blessed year, indeed. We have solved the crisis regarding the Black Famine, and we've thwarted the advance of the Empire. It seems that the Sun God is smiling upon our Kingdom."
Rows of knights stood next to the walls, while the advisers of the crown stood next to the King. There were also dozens of nobles, merchants, priests, and other city officials present.
"First," said the King, "Arzen Boris."
A soldier walked towards the throne, carrying a small chest with him. After receiving the signal from His Majesty, the soldier walked towards Arzen and presented him the chest.
"The Commander of the Second Army. The valiant warrior who liberated Yan City."
Arzen courteously received the chest and opened it. Inside were thirty grand gold coins, each of them equivalent to a hundred gold. There was also a scrolled parchment inside, stamped with the insignia of the royal family.
"You shall be rewarded with thirty grand gold coins and the Elmanar Territory. It's a small but fertile land near the Boris County. ?se it as you see fit."
Arzen bowed his head. "I am honored, Your Majesty. I promise to develop that land into a prosperous territory."
King Alvis nodded, satisfied with Arzen's answer. "I look forward to that day, Arzen."
The King moved his gazed towards Baron Zacharia. "?ext, Baron Zacharia."
The Baron looked at the King upon the mention of his name.
"For leading the attack at Yorkshaire City, and for gathering the remnants of the Marcus and Yorkshaire Army. You shall also be granted thirty grand gold coins. Furthermore, you shall be elevated to the rank of a Viscount!"
Murmurs filled the throne room at this proclamation. The merchants and nobles attending the awarding ceremony were surprised that the retired veteran was promoted to the rank of a Viscount after the war. It just went to show how important this victory was for the royal family.
Although the territory owned by the Baron did not expand, just earning the title of a Viscount alone was a tremendous gain in this war. The normally stoic Zacharia visibly shook as he tried to process the words the King had just said. Who would have known that a retired instructor like him would become a Viscount before the end of his life?
"Your Majesty!" Zacharia humbly received the chest containing the grand gold coins and the royal decree. "This subject of yours will never forget this kindness!"
Zacharia continued shaking as he willed the tears back. There was no honor higher than this one. He was sure that his late father and the rest of his ancestors watching him from Valhalla would have been so proud.
The King moved his gaze to the next person.
"Lui Marcus," said the King. "For bravely leading the soldiers, for defending the fortress until the last man. You shall be granted thirty grand gold coins and a named sword!"
A soldier handed Lui Marcus a chest containing the coins and a sword wrapped in cloth. Lui slowly unwrapped it, revealing a sword with an ornamental sheath, its hilt embedded with blue gemstones.
"This is…" Lui stared at the sword, wide-eyed.
"One of the four named swords of the Kingdom. Grandblue!"
The entire throne room went into uproar. Grandblue was a sword passed down only to the descendants of the royal family. Along with the sword of Sword Saint Alexander—Bloodthorne—it was one of the four swords crafted by the legendary dwarven blacksmith, Golgodan.
Just this sword alone cost more than ten thousand gold coins. For a moment, the nobles and merchants started to question the sanity of the King. This move was akin to passing down a national treasure to someone outside the royal family.
Lui's hands trembled as he held the infamous sword. ?ever in his wildest dreams did he think he would get his hands on this item. It was not a maginus like the weapon used by General Alvaren, but its blade was made with the strongest metal in this world. Even the gemstones embedded on its hilt made it possible for the user to store some of his magic.
"I-I'm honored, Your Majesty!" said Lui.
The King gently smiled. "There's no one more fitting than you to wield that sword. I'm sure that Golgodan would have been glad that his named sword landed in the hands of such valiant warrior. That sword's just gathering dust in the treasury, after all. It's such a waste, don't you think so?
Lui, I expect great things from you. Continue protecting our Kingdom."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"?ext, Sword Saint Alexander."
The Sword Saint was the calmest among everyone present here. He remained unperturbed despite the unexpected rewards handed out by the King.
"I believe you hold one of the highest merits in this war," said the King. "?ot only did you lead the army in the attack to reclaim Yorkshaire, you've also slain the enemy General. The Magic Slayer of the Empire, General Alvaren."
A soldier holding a chest, a bit larger than the ones before, went towards the Sword Saint and presented it to him.
"You are hereby granted forty-five grand gold coins and the Territory of Aden, including the Valley of Witches!"
Although it was a secluded territory at the east, almost near the ?nited Grakas Alliance, it was a vast territory, and by size alone, it was almost comparable to the entire capital. The King probably made this move in hopes that the Sword Saint would permanently move into that territory and convert it into a stronghold, blocking the path of the Beastmen toward their Kingdom.
The Sword Saint easily saw through the King's intent, but decided to accept it regardless. He had grown fond of the Valley of Witches and its soldiers during his prior stay there.
"I humbly accept, Your Majesty."
?nlike before, the nobles and merchants seemed satisfied with what was given to the Sword Saint. They all knew that Alexander was the one who had slain General Alvaren, justifying the forty-five grand gold coins reward. Furthermore, the Aden Territory was unfertile, and the Valley of Witches was located on top of a cliff, making trade difficult with the surrounding territories. Just by location alone, the merchants and nobles had no interest in a territory sharing borders with those damnable beastmen.
There was only one military officer remaining.
Lark felt all eyes falling on him.
"And lastly, Lark Marcus." The King cleared his throat. "For leading the Third Army to the Western Front, for reclaiming Yorkshaire City, and for slaying the Ghost of the Empire."
There was silence in the entire throne room. Everyone waited with bated breath for the next words of the King.
"You shall be awarded with forty-five grand gold coins!
Furthermore, you shall be granted sovereign over the City of Tranta!"
Lui Marcus' eyes widened at this declaration. He looked at his little brother, his eyes filled with anticipation.
The City of Tranta was a small territory near the Marcus Duchy.
With this, it'd be possible for him to meet Lark frequently once he became the Lord of the city. Even Duke Drakus would be powerless to oppose this, since this was an official decree by the King.
But Lui's excitement was short-lived.
"I'm honored, Your Majesty," said Lark. "But I have no intention of leaving my territory."
Everyone in the throne room was stunned upon hearing these words.
Lark was basically saying that he would not exchange that small town in the middle of the wilderness for an already prosperous territory. A city?
Seeing the surprise face of the King, Lark added, "Your Majesty, please allow this subject of yours to be impertinent."
The King carefully studied Lark. "Go on."
"Instead of the City of Tranta," said Lark. "Would it be possible to be granted sovereign over the Endless Forest instead?"
Murmurs filled the throne room once again. The Endless Forest was one of the uncharted territories of the Kingdom. To say it belonged to their country was also a misconception. The Endless Forest was simply so large that even the neighboring countries didn't know where it ended. The Kingdom claimed ownership over it, but everyone in this throne room knew that no one held sovereignty over that vast territory.
The Endless Forest alone was larger than the entire Kingdom, after all.
The King fell silent. He could not decide whether Lark's request was too ambitious or if it was mere stupidity. The young man had literally asked the King for a territory larger than the Kingdom itself.
Should he give it to him?
The young man did surrender the glaive of General Alvaren to the royal family the moment he arrived at the capital. Just that weapon alone was worth more than three hundred grand gold coins. Definitely more than enough to cover all the rewards granted in this awarding ceremony, if you exclude the granted territories.
The King tapped his armrest. He continued to ponder. Eventually, he said, "Very well! With my authority as the King, I'm hereby granting you sovereign over the Endless Forest!"
"But your Majesty!" one of the Royal Advisers protested. "Isn't it too much? He may be a war hero, but granting such a massive land to a single person is unheard of!"
"Enough!" said the King. He waived his hand and the Royal Adviser shut his mouth. "My decision is final! I believe that this young man deserves at least this much, considering all of his merits in this war!"
The Royal Advisers were obviously displeased with this outcome.
Lark ignored them. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
The King stroked his ashen beard. He stared at Lark for several seconds and said to the guards, "Tell Esmeralda to come here."
"As you wish, Your Majesty!"
The guards left then came back shortly thereafter, escorting a young woman with them. A woman with platinum hair wearing a simple turquoise dress. Her large, blue eyes nervously swiveled left and right. She froze for a moment upon seeing the numerous nobles, priest, city officials and merchants watching the awarding ceremony, and the military officers kneeling on the ground.
"Esmeralda," said the King, smiling softly. His voice gentle. "Come.
I want to introduce you to someone."
The young woman was obviously terrified of the huge crowd, but she went toward her father regardless. With elegance befitting someone from the royal family, she walked up the stairs and stood next to King Alvis.
"Lark Marcus," said the King. "What do you think of my daughter?
Beautiful, isn't she?"
Lark was taken aback by the question. He immediately realized what the King was trying to do in this situation.
Thankfully, he'd experienced such a situation several times before in his previous life. Back then, even the Emperor himself tried pairing Evander Alaester with one of his daughters.
Lark immediately regained composure. He flashed a smile.
"She's beautiful, Your Majesty."
Seeing Lark's smile, and hearing an unknown man praise her in front of a very large crowd, Esmeralda's face flushed. This is too embarrassing, she thought.
The King heartily laughed. "Of course, she's my daughter after all!"
The King boastfully claimed, without the slightest hint of shame.
His daughter glared at him for saying something so embarrassing.
"Father!" she whispered. "What are you doing? And this is the awarding ceremony, right? Why did you call me here?"
King Alvis cast an amused smile at his indignant daughter.
He whispered back, "I'm trying to find you a fitting husband. You're already twenty-one. All of your sisters are already married—" "—I don't need a husband!"
Esmeralda realized that her whisper had turned into a shout. All gazes fell on her and she immediately had the urge to hide behind her father or sink into the ground.
King Alvis spoke to Lark. "She may be like this, but she's a gentle soul. I heard that you are without a wife, moreover a fiancé. Then, how about this? What do you think about becoming part of the royal family?"
Lark looked at Esmeralda. She looked like she wanted to pinch the cheeks of her father hard. She was obviously against this.
"She's a beautiful woman," said Lark. "But I have my hands full with managing Blackstone Town. Permit this subject of yours to be impertinent, but I have to decline, Your Majesty."
Esmeralda looked really relieved upon hearing this. She sighed then clenched her fists while glaring at her father.
King Alvis ignored his fuming daughter. "Is that so? How regretful.
And here I was, thinking I finally found a suitable husband for my daughter."
--END O? VOLUME 4