- MC's POV -
The next day, I was in the middle of the most blissful sleep. You know that feeling when your blanket feels like heaven and your pillow has basically adopted you as its child? Yeah, that.
And then; BAM! BAM! BAM!
"Your Highness! Your Highness!!"
I swear, the banging on my door could've woken up the dead. No wait, did it actually happen? Don't tell me they dragged the previous ruler back from afterlife just so he could die along with the current one.
Groaning, I pulled the blanket over my head. "If that's another priest trying to 'check my sacred health,' I'm committing my first murder."
But nope, the banging didn't stop. Whoever was outside was really determined to ruin my morning beauty sleep.
I shuffled over to the door, cracked it open just a little, and squinted. Standing there was a maiden priestess practically vibrating with excitement like a squirrel on too much sugar.
"What's all the commotion about? Why are you banging on my door at this ungodly hour? Did you find out your god has loose motion, or what?" I yawned, my hair sticking up like a haystack.
The priestess nearly jumped out of her robes. "Your Highness! It's time! The current ruler is about to die! We have to prepare you for your coronation!"
Oh hell nawww– Why the hell is she so excited about it? Did his loose motion kinda poop get sprayed on her? I mean, these freaks might worship it as well.
I blinked at her. "...He's dying and you're excited about it? Lady, what in the holy noodles is wrong with your head?"
Her eyes widened like I just slapped her with a fish. "B-but this is a blessed moment! A sacred transition of power! The golden blood shall–"
"Yeah, yeah. Spare me the holy karaoke." I rubbed my eyes. "Listen, I don't know what kind of twisted soap opera you've been watching, but getting all hyped about grandpa coughing his last lung while suffering from loose motion isn't the vibe."
She clasped her hands dramatically. "Your Majesty, please! We must hurry! Your ceremonial robes are waiting, the crown needs polishing, and the people–"
I raised a hand. "Hold up. Did you say crown polishing? Is it dusty? Are you telling me my holy, divine, golden-blooded crown has dandruff? If it does, might as well scratch it like you scratch your head? It might work. I'm sleepy right now. Leave if you're done."
The priestess stuttered. "N-no! It's simply tradition."
I sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Tradition, shradition. Can I at least brush my teeth first? I don't want to be remembered in history as the golden blood with morning breath."
She gave me this look like I was some cosmic mistake that needs to be erased. Honestly, she's not entirely wrong about it.
But I had no choice. With the priestess bouncing like an over-excited bunny, I dragged myself out of my room, muttering, "Rest in peace, old man. Thanks for the throne, I guess."
And thus began my very glamorous journey to coronation! Half awake, with bed hair that could probably stab someone.
- A few hours later -
If you've ever been stuffed into clothes so tight you can't breathe, congratulations¡ you already know what my coronation felt like.
I was paraded into the Grand Temple, half blinded by the glow of those giant crystal chandeliers. The priests were chanting, the crowd was kneeling, and all I could think was: wow, my hair really does look fabulous in candlelight.
At the far end, on a raised platform, lay the old ruler. The man looked like a half-dried raisin wrapped in gold silk. His breathing was shallow, and the priests whispered prayers like they were rushing him into his afterlife reservation. I wouldn't even be surprised if there is one.
The High Priest's voice echoed through the temple:
"Behold! The time of transition has come! The golden blood shall be passed, and the new sovereign shall ascend as the Eternal Crown's chosen!"
The crowd roared. Trumpets blared. I plastered on my best fake smile. Inside? My stomach was doing backflips. Not from excitement but for jumpscares that this cult might pull.
Okay, fine. I thought, I should just play along. Bow a little, smile and DON'T trip on your robe. It'd be so embarrassing if I did.
The old man's hand twitched. One of the priests guided me forward, closer to the dais. The air smelled of incense surrounded the area and, faintly, blood. Honestly, not shocking at all. This should be my first warning.
The High Priest continued, voice booming:
"And in keeping with the sacred will of our late Sovereigns, the purity of the crown shall be ensured– through the Rite of Blood Bathing!"
…Wait. The WHAT now?
The crowd cheered like maniacs. I blinked, smiling awkwardly. I don't know what kind of expression I had on my face, what my smile looked like. But one thing was for sure, I was panicking. "Uh… did he just say blood bathing? As in… like, metaphorical blood? Red wine? Tomato juice?"
Nope. Out from the side doors, guards dragged in four people. They were chained, gagged, but unmistakably glowing with golden-blooded aura. Their insignias shimmered faintly under their skin.
Four golden blood Isyrians. They were supposed to be my future assistants. Trusted Comrades. The Crownwardens.
My jaw dropped. Hold up. Excuse me?!
The High Priest lifted his staff. "The false lights shall be extinguished! The Crown requires no rivals, no doppelgangers, no pretenders! Their blood shall anoint our new sovereign, Seralyth Altharien, Keeper of Sacred Light!"
The crowd screamed in joy. The four Isyrians screamed in horror. And me? I froze, my mind short-circuiting.
WHAT IN THE HOLY JELLYBEANS IS THIS RITUAL?! The book, The Blood of Eternal Crown, it said NOTHING about this! No warning, no footnote, not even a 'by the way, your coronation includes a murder bath."
One of the Isyrians thrashed, shouting through the gag. I caught his eyes for a split second. Fear, betrayal, rage.
My stomach churned. They're about to butcher them. Alive and Conscious. And then what? Bathe me in it like some psychopath soup? Oh my god, I'm about to become the world's creepiest noodle.
- To be continued -