Chapter 1 - I - Simmering tensions

 

***The Imperial Council Chambers of the Empire of Chersea***

 

Several leagues south of Chersea’s northern shores lay the territory of the Empire of Chersea.  Formerly the overlord of the entire human realm, this ancient country was just a shadow of its old self, with various kingdoms, principalities, and duchies to its north and east regions, achieving independence at different times in its long history.

 

However, though relatively smaller compared to its glorious past, the Empire still was formidable.  Its power may have weakened for a while now, but they remained a force to reckon with.  Their neighbors were wary of every movement within the Imperial borders, for experience could tell that their ambitions to rule humanity never faded just yet…

 

And just like how it was before, this time was of great concern; an Imperial Council of all the Empire’s nobility had been called, and anyone who knew the inner workings of this country could say that it was summoned because of the sudden turn of events recently.

 

“Such insolence!” a noble going by the name of Sir Petaine cried out the moment the news about the treatment of the Imperial Prince was made known to the council, “Despite knowing of our might, those northern barbarians had the gall to insult our Emperor and his heir!  We cannot let this pass; a slap to our Emperor’s face is a slap to us all!”

 

“Call the legions!  Let’s go to war!” the other nobles echoed Sir Petaine’s sentiments.  The entire council was in an uproar, and soldiers had to be rushed in to quell the potential riot.

 

Meanwhile, in all his dignity and glory, the Emperor himself sat comfortably on his high chair; right at the center of the hall.  He was quietly musing over the chaos before him, knowing full-well that it wouldn’t be long before he gets what he intended to call the council for.

 

“…”

 

At that moment, he snapped his fingers and the chambers immediately fell in order and silence.  In those parts of Chersea, the Emperor’s words were absolute—comparable to the voice of the gods.  He had the power to take away the life of his subjects, should he will it.

 

“My dear subjects!” the Emperor spoke softly; everyone else listened intently, “While I understand your sentiments and faithfulness to me as your ruler, I implore you to desist from taking rash and violent actions based on feelings.  While the northern barbarian kingdoms had committed a great offense to us, it is of utmost importance to remind you we still have to abide by the treaty we signed before the Saint of Chersea herself!”

 

A noble then asked, “Your Imperial Majesty, while we had to conform with Her Holiness, our traditions would never allow insults to you, our emperor!  However, if we must exercise restraint, what does your great and endless wisdom propose for us to do?”

 

“For now, we’ll have to agree with them, or Her Holiness will unleash a plague against us.” the Emperor explained, “I don’t want to cause unnecessary suffering to you, my children.  But know this, the falcon never sleeps.  We shall never forget what was done to us, however, we must stay our hand for now.  We will have our honor—soiled by that foolish ‘Iron Duke’—avenged.  This, I assure you!”

 

“Then we’ll gladly support you, our Emperor!” someone shouted.  He was followed by thunderous cheers and applause from everyone else.  Soon, the entire chamber was in an uproar once again.

 

“Down with the North!  Restore our honor!  Kill the barbarians!”

 

 

After the council was adjourned, the Emperor called his few trusted men and his Imperial heir into his private chambers.

 

“Your Majesty, it is of note that I’d report to you we had our spies in place.”  One of the Emperor’s loyal military men, the Marshal d’Erlone told the Emperor, “We also placed some agents ready to move in and ‘clean’ the undesirables, should you decide that their life is forfeit.”

 

“Hmm?  What for?” the Emperor asked absent-mindedly.  His men were quite concerned when they heard that, for their monarch had forgotten the reason they’d gathered in the first place.

 

“Err…Sire, isn’t it the Holy Congress coming soon?” someone brought it up to him.

 

“Ah yes, yes!  I finally remember it now.  That pesky congress…” the Emperor waved his hand as if dismissing the man who reminded him of their goal for that secret meet, “I have already given my orders to our emissary regarding that matter.  He should know by now our sentiments to be conveyed to Her Holiness.”

 

“Yes, my Lord.” Marshal d’Erlone reiterated, “That’s why we placed some agents to back our Imperial emissary, should things go for naught.”

 

“Ah!  Good work, Marshal, good work!” the Emperor heaped praises on the military man, who proudly accepted it.

 

Someone from among the nobles then asked, “Sire, are we sending an ambassador instead of your Most Majestic person attending?”

 

“Of course!  Because of my foolish heir of a son, I couldn’t show my face to the barbarian kings for a while.”

 

The eyes of everyone present in that room fell immediately on the Crown Prince, who silently squirmed at the unwanted attention being given to him.

 

“Don’t worry too much about the smallest of things.” the Emperor advised, “Isn’t this somehow helping us?  While the northern barbarians are busy bickering with their petty quarrels at the congress, we’ll attack accordingly.  And I’ll remain here to oversee our preparations for that.”

 

“Your wisdom is  something to reckon with, Your Imperial Majesty!” Sir Petaine complimented him.

 

“Oh, yes!  My ever-so-loyal orator, Sir Petaine!” the Emperor tossed a bag of coins towards the man, “I’d also like to praise your oratory skills back in the council chamber, Sir Petaine.  You galvanized those simple fools into supporting me.”

 

“It’s my pleasure to have served you, Your Imperial Majesty.” Sir Petaine bowed reverently as he accepted the reward from the Emperor, “My mouth shall be your herald in the council as long as I live, my Emperor.”

 

“Hmm…very well then!” the Emperor went back to his business, facing his trusted men, “It’s good that all of you have gathered here, my most faithful children.  For a while now, we have just been following the events in the northern region, reacting to whatever and whenever something happens.  And because of that, we ended up being shamed and the influence of our state challenged.”

 

“…”  No one dared to speak as the emperor recounted the events that led to the incident now known as the ‘Boxing of the Imperial Prince’.  His heir stood beside him, head cast down as the younger Imperial never wanted to talk about that humiliating episode.

 

“And here I thought Sir Milne hired the best mercenaries available to capture the Saint as she went on her way to Fen?” the Emperor’s eyes went around, as he finished his speech, “Where’s Sir Milne?  I need your explanation!”

 

“I am here, Your Majesty!” a bumbling, bespectacled man raised his hand from the back of the crowd, “If I may explain myself, my lord?”

 

“Well, that’s what I want to ask of you.  Go ahead.”

 

“Ah yes!” Sir Milne tried to appear calm and collected, but in reality, his knees were quivering from fear, “Indeed, I bought the best mercenary companies available in the northern continent and accordingly planned our operation to capture Her Holiness as she went on her vacation to Fen.  I even had our spy spiked the drinks of Her Holiness and caused her deep sleep so that she won’t be able to intervene while we attack her carriage…”

 

“Then what caused the failure of your plan?”

 

“Sire…” Sir Milne swallowed his fear and explained, “There was…erm…a bit of a…’nuisance’ that hindered our plans.”

 

“And what nuisance is this?”

 

“That commoner named Kuro.”

 

The Emperor suddenly burst out laughing.  His laughs were so loud that it filled the entire room and secretly annoyed his subjects present.  They never dared to show it though, lest they suffer grave consequences.

 

“Are you telling me that commoner is a threat?” the Emperor had his eyebrows raised, “Is this how you explain your incompetence?”

 

“Your Majesty, if I may explain, our spies in Nerfes credited him for prevent—”

 

“I won’t hear any of your excuses anymore, Sir Milne!  Either you give me a proper explanation of why you failed, or I’ll have your head on a pike later.”

 

Sir Milne was forced to shut his lips for a while.  However, the Imperial Prince came to his defense.

 

“My father!  Sir Milne speaks the truth!” he pleaded, “That man named Kuro is not just a mere ‘commoner’; he even defeated the army of the Grey Knight with a handful of mercenaries in his command!”

 

“It’s just a fluke.”

 

“Father!” the Imperial Crown Prince cried in dismay at his father’s apparent nonchalant attitude, “He even used a demon weapon to defeat the fully armored Paladin Prince in one fell swoop!”

 

“A peasant using a cowardly weapon of devils isn’t exactly a warrior!” the Emperor quipped, quite fed up with the ruckus about that commoner, “You’ve been giving him too much credit for something so trivial.  I take it you’re still bitter when he punched your face; however, that’s your undoing.  You should’ve never let loose of your vicious tongue hurling those insults at Her Holiness.  Even if she’s unsightly, she’s still the Saint with the powers of the gods and you’re just a prince.”

 

The Imperial Prince couldn’t counter those words from his father.  Not only those were true; he feared that if he said otherwise, he’ll join Sir Milne’s head on the pike.

 

“Why don’t we focus on something more threatening, like the Golden Sword of Heaven, or the Iron Princess?” the Emperor turned to his military men, “Do you have any reports about those two?”

 

“Your Majesty, the Golden Sword is one thing; but the Iron Princess is of a greater threat.  She may be exiled with Her Holiness for now, but for our greater chance of success, we’d want to isolate her further from Nerfes.” Marshal d’Erlone explained.

 

“Ugh…that bastard, Arthur,  trained his sister well…” the Emperor muttered, “I should’ve had him killed before he could impart his martial skills to that little princess.”

 

The Marshal, however, didn’t mind what his ruler said and carried on with his words, “I already prepared measures to make sure that the Iron Princess would stay on the sidelines, should we make our move to destabilize the northern kingdoms.”

 

“As always, outstanding work, Marshal!” the Emperor applauded, “And speaking of our plan, when do you think your men would be most ready to execute it?”

 

“As soon as you give us the order, Your Majesty.  I believe that just as you say, the most ideal time would be the time when the conference is in full swing and the barbarian rulers are distracted” the marshal replied, “The Kingdom of Amaranth is the most vulnerable since the nobles there had no love for their crown prince.  And as King William of Amaranth is getting weak, the opposing factions to his heir grow stronger.  I think it’ll be only reasonable that we’ll strike there first.”

 

“Yes, let’s do that, Marshal.” the Emperor agreed.  

 

“And also, Your Imperial Majesty, may I remind you that the Bloody Witch of Meldech is on our side as well.”

 

Everyone’s eyes in that room listened intently to the Marshal after he said those words.  Only the Emperor was left unfazed.

 

“What are you saying, Sir Marshal?” one noble asked, quite alarmed, “If I can recall correctly, that madwoman was defeated and killed by Her Holiness before!”

 

The Imperial Prince backed it further with, “I also knew it was so.  Do you mean to say that Her Holiness is lying?  That she-devil is alive?”

 

The Marshal didn’t reply to their concerns.  Instead, it was His Imperial Majesty who answered the questions, “Don’t ask for too much.  What’s important now is that this witch is fighting for us right now.”

 

“…”

 

An air of dread and fear then spread to all who were present, save for the Marshal and the Emperor.  However, as if expecting such kind of reaction from his subjects, His Imperial Majesty then spoke…

 

“Please call over the Flame Saint’s Grand Templar.”

 

“I am here, Your Majesty!” an old woman in crimson holy garments came up and presented herself before the monarch.

 

“Great Templar, would you be so kind as to request the presence of your patron?  I’d like to speak to her about these fools doubting our wisdom.”

 

The old templar bowed in reverence, “Yes, my lord.  I will summon the saint, Seirna, as soon as possible!”