Chapter 59: The Scale of a Sovereign
The War Council room felt huge, Walls covered in old woven scenes of past fights. Right in the middle loomed a massive black stone table, surrounded by serious-looking leaders and soldiers from Realmshold. Up front, Jade took the main seat, the Sun King's crown pressing down like something he wasn't used to.
He sat listening - two full hours. Said almost nothing, just nudging them now and then with a soft "Tell me," or "Keep going." So they did, spilling out how bad things really were across the land.
Lord-General Valerius mentioned Korgath's army - huge, wild, driven by rage against the Sun Altar, not just numbers but fury piling up like storm clouds before a crash.
Lady Commander Rhys, a stern woman with a scar across her cheek, pointed to the map. "The Glacial Citadel of Frosthome to the north watches our conflict like vultures. They will not aid us unless we are on the brink of destruction, and the price would be our sovereignty."
Master Scholar Theron, an old man with a wispy beard, gestured west. "The Spire of Whispers cares only for arcane knowledge. They see our war as a mundane distraction. To gain their aid, we would need to offer them the Sun Altar itself for study."
And finally, Merchant Lord Havisham, a man whose fingers were covered in rings, pointed to the southwestern deserts. "The Sunstone Clans are unpredictable. They trade with all and swear allegiance to none. Their loyalty is bought with water and gold, both of which we are running low on."
While they talked, Jade started seeing how big the map really was. Realmshold wasn't merely a land ruled by a king - it stood trapped, attacked from every edge, through war and tricky deals alike. The three strong kingdoms nearby weren't simply close by - they could end up taking over... or wiping it out completely.
The scrambled words seared into his sight, always there, never quiet.
A dull, icy heat stirred deep inside Jade's stomach. Not just a fight - this was something bigger. If he wanted to hold power, beating Korgath came first. After that, bringing Frosthome under control would keep things steady. Keeping everything running meant grabbing the trade paths through the Sunstone Deserts. Figuring out how this world worked - or finding a path back - meant uncovering what the Spire of Whispers had hidden.
It might last months - maybe longer, like years.
The idea didn't scare him - no, it fired him up. Because something so huge? Only the wildest destruction could do it justice.
He got up, yet nobody spoke. His idea? Plain but harsh -tossed their old rules aside. No holding back this time. Forget talking terms. Let Korgath's army mass at the Sunken Plains instead, just before wiping them out so hard it'd leave fear shaking every kingdom nearby.
Your orders have been issued," Jade said, tone dull and firm, leaving zero room for debate - get it finished
He stormed from the room, that wild smile now spreading across his face. With no Zero around to challenge how he did things. Without any System laying down pointless limits. Nothing but raw desire driving him forward.
He shoved the chamber doors wide, thoughts buzzing with plans to claim heaven's throne.
And froze.
The space smelled like flowers mixed with soft fabric. His three wives spun around together, rushing toward him in a loud wave of clashing emotions, each trying to grab his arms, then his chest, finally his face.
The broken words flashed - just one dull remark.
Jade froze - just for a second - not scared, just burning mad inside. Their chatter buzzed like insects close to his ears, their hands on him messed with his concentration. This wasn't a fight he could slash through with his weapon. What he wanted was space. Quiet helped too. Mostly, he craved the straightforward hit of a fist or blade.
He walked away while they shouted, the heavy door slamming before they could finish begging. Moving fast through the hall, he skipped the meeting room, heading instead for the top edge of the castle. Inside a small room off the path, his black armor sat ready; slipping into it wasn't some ceremony - it was more like leaving being king behind, every part locking out the chaos outside.
He stepped out on the windy wall just as morning lit up the edge of the sky. Down below, far off, lay the Sunken Plains -crawling with tiny shadowy shapes, Korgath's army moving like insects. From this height, their noise was only a distant growl, mixed with wind. It wasn't warm, but the breeze felt sharp and clear.
Here, in the quiet over the madness, it clicked inside him. Not another meeting. Not even family mattered now. Just the battlefield stood ahead - his target out there, waiting to be wiped out.
The shift from the wall to the fighting edge wasn't a stroll - more like slipping downward. Out of that calm, high quiet, he went lower, passing through crowds of restless troops from his unit. Their shouts weren't inspiring -just noise without weight. Smells of panic and damp skin registered only as facts. Every foot forward tightened what he saw. The noise of the crowd started low, then built up into a loud crash. As they got closer, you could see the warriors' marked faces, each one baring teeth in fury.
When he stepped up to lead his troops,the fancy palace life felt like a distant dream. Just this moment mattered. His armor pressed heavy on him. He sensed the ritual knife strapped by his side. Then came that wild smile, sharp and bright against the dark inside his helm.
The fires at Realmshold's smithy glowed all night long, yet now under gray skies before sunrise - it wasn't clangs or sparks you heard. Instead, it was the hush of boots shifting on dirt, the scrape of armor settling as twenty thousand figures lined up across the low ground, quiet like breath held too long.
There he was - king up front, leading the bunch.
Jade's suit wasn't golden or silvery either. Instead, it shone like deep black glass, soaking up the first glow of dawn till only a ring of dusk clung to him. On his shoulders crouched beasts frozen mid-snarl - creatures from hollow spaces between stars - while across his chest ran one seamless slab marked with twisting lines of his inner dark heart. Light didn't crown this ruler - he rose from the endless gap where brightness hadn't yet reached.
Across the open land, the opposing force surged like a wild ocean of pelts, metal, and marked skin. Their weapons slammed on armor while howls rose toward cruel deities above. Leading them forward stood Korgath - known by many as the King of Skulls.
He stood way above everyone else - head and shoulders past his biggest warrior - with a frame carved from raw power and old wounds. On top of his head sat the bones of some huge animal, twisted horns still attached. In one hand swung a heavy slab of dark metal, too big for any normal person to even move. Just being near him felt like getting hit by pure rage and violence; soldiers up front flinched back without thinking.
This was it. Just how things went here. One champ facing another. Ruler versus ruler.
Korgath took a thunderous step forward, his voice a landslide of sound. "SO, THE GILDED WHELP FINALLY LEAVES HIS CRIB! I WILL CARRY YOUR SKULL ON MY BELT, LITTLE KING! I WILL FEED YOUR HEART TO MY WOLVES!"
The noise from his crowd shook the air.
Jade didn't yell - just stepped ahead, pace way too steady, the black plating soaking up every noise. His troops stayed dead quiet, which felt worse than screaming ever could.
The broken letters showed up - just one greedy term.
The two rulers faced off mid-field, a deadly tension hanging where their forces stood apart - yet close enough to clash at any breath.
Korgath just went. Roaring so loud it split the sky, he whipped his huge blade sideways - aimed right at Jade's midsection. The hit would've knocked down something like a young oak.
Jade stood still - no move to stop it. No leap aside either.
He flowed.
He crouched fast, moving like smoke across the ground. The heavy blade sliced empty air above him. With Korgath stumbling ahead, off-balance, Jade pushed up from the dirt. His arm shot forward, covered in that dark stone which swallows light, not clenched - shaped like a knife.
THOCK.
The noise squelched horribly. With power from Void-Sovereign and sharp focus from Observer's Eye, Jade jammed his fingers deep into Korgath's leg - tearing through tissue, ripping tendons apart.
The Skull-King shouted - more stunned than angry. His leg gave way, suddenly weak. That unstoppable giant wobbled, off balance.
"That," Jade said, tone steady amid the shocked quiet, "was on account of my twenty scouts."
Korgath thrashed around, panic in his eyes. Jade dodged backward, the air from the strike tugging at his pale hair. As the next sweep came, he slipped through it - armored forearm slamming into the brute's wrist. A snap echoed. That huge blade dropped hard, punching a dent in the dirt.
"Now then," Jade muttered, his crazy smile showing at last - a flash of pale in the shadowed mask - "this here's 'cause you made me wait."
Korgath, broken and weaponless, stared upward - his gaze filled with raw, beast-like terror. Not a person stood before him, but something hunting. Something empty.
P-please…" the Skull-King choked out, crimson flooding his lips after a broken jaw - didn't even recall how it happened.
Jade's smile stretched bigger. "Nah
In one swift, savage move,he pulled the ornate blade from his side - delicate carvings of sunlight across it, clearly made for show. Then, fist tangled in Korgath's thick, greasy hair, he snapped the head backward while dragging the edge back and forth.
A jagged break instead of a smooth cut. This wasn't neat - it tore through flesh with brutal force. Ligaments split apart, bone scraped hard on steel, while thick blood - burning hot, bright red - gushed upward, splattering Jade's black gear in wild streaks of deep scarlet.
He lifted the Skull-King's cut off head high, spinning bit by bit till he faced the two crowds of fighters.
The quiet was total. Barbarian crowds stood still, anger turned cold by raw dread. Soldiers of the Legion looked on, belief in their ruler cracked - replaced not by loyalty, but by instinct deeper than worship: sheer fright mixed with wonder.
Jade let go of the head - it hit the ground with a flat, lifeless thump.
He lifted the blade dripping in red, pointing it at the crowd frozen in fear.
"Obliterate."
This time, no quiet downpour fell from above - instead, a surge blasted out from his core. Not some hushed drizzle, but a howling flood of red-tinged darkness, tearing forward like thunder given shape. Rather than slicing through things, it wiped them clean off being. Contact meant instant erasure: fighters vanished, blades dissolved, ground itself flaked into empty air.
It wasn't a fight. Instead, it vanished without a trace.
Once the wave moved on, half the mob had vanished without a trace. Those left snapped - completely undone - and bolted toward Ironwood, shrieking in blind panic.
Jade stayed by himself in that ruined meadow, soaked through with gore and the lingering weight of slaughtered minds. The air carried sharp notes of burnt air mixed with rust - his lungs pulled it in deep. Right then, after everything since crossing into this world, a strange calm hit him hard, quiet but full of dread.
The crazy smile had vanished, swapped out for a quiet sort of cold pride. His eyes dropped to the red smeared across his palms, afterward lifting toward the far-off Tower where voices hummed.
One gone," he said quietly.