Chapter 42 Declaration
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Standing on the magic circle set up at the back of the mansion introduced as ‘Reception Hall (Acheron),’ Fredrin II and his companions were instantly teleported to what was said to be the 100th floor. There, in the desolate and empty building resembling a warehouse, an open carriage was prepared without a roof.
The very concept of teleportation magic itself was already an unrealistic technology, but Fredrin II was quickly placed on the carriage and taken outside the building… and he trembled at the sight.
Passing through the door, they found themselves on a wide street that seemed to be a main thoroughfare. What spread out before their eyes was a city. It was a city with unified house colors, odorless air, and a more magnificent appearance than the familiar imperial capital.
And then, as Fredrin II would have expected, the gaze of the myriad of demons (?) pierced through all at once.
It became immediately clear that these were ordinary citizens living in this city. They were demon (akuma)-like people, lizard-like poeple… all sorts of monsters, of which the number of different species could not even be counted. Among them were even monsters like goblins, but they were not the kind that roamed the mountains with clubs and rusty swords. Clad in well-tailored clothing and with intelligent eyes gleaming, they appeared somewhat out of place.
The scene was truly something otherworldly. However, one thing that could be said was that the cleanliness and prosperity of the people indicated that the country itself was also wealthy.
The carriage carrying Fredrin II slowly made its way down the middle of the road.
They stood still, like sculptures, with sharp eyes fixed intently, as if observing rather than showing hostility. The sensation was akin to being appraised by a sl*ve trader or being an exotic creature paraded through a foreign city.
There was no conversation, no waving to the crowd. As they gazed ahead, Fredrin II glanced at his entourage with only his eyes.
Even the seasoned general Duke Marshall and the experienced nobleman Duke Sandril were visibly tense. Only the knight Aurone remained steadfast, standing tall with both hands on the hilt of his sword.
In that moment, Fredrin II realized a certain truth, and he almost let out a dry chuckle.
The knight Aurone stood with both hands on the hilt of his sword, yes, indeed, Aurone was armed. He was not alone. Fredrin II also had a ceremonial sword at his waist, and Duke Marshall carried his beloved sword as well.
When welcoming an enemy into one’s midst, it is essential to disarm them in consideration of any unexpected circumstances. However, even the Dark Knight, who served as a guide from the old capital’s gate, and the coachman handling the carriage, both calmly turned their backs to their sword-bearing counterparts.
This signifies that there is no longer any room for debate. There is a firm conviction that even if Fredrin II and the others had malicious intent, they would be powerless. It is not arrogance; it is a fact that is being accepted.
Perhaps they are keeping an eye out for any suspicious movements that may seem careless, but Fredrin II has no intention of resisting, so he pays it no mind and once again directs his gaze towards the direction of travel, towards the towering citadel on the distant hill.
* * *
It wasn’t a mere audience chamber, but rather a grand cathedral.
Stunning gold decorations adorned the alabaster walls. The light streaming in from the furthest stained glass window created a shimmering, otherworldly space.
Yet, it was not awe that made Fredrin II’s body tremble, but fear. On either side of the deep crimson carpet stood a menacing array of monsters. Even the strong-willed crowd that had gathered along the city streets Fredrin II had just passed exuded an aura of power, but the monsters in this audience chamber were on a completely different level.
From grotesque creatures with incomprehensible speech to those with the appearance of ordinary young girls, each one exuded a menacing aura. It was as if they were all vying to assert their dominance, and the chamber felt as if the auras were physically pressing against each other, almost as if they might be crushed by the sheer force of them.
Of course. There’s no way there would be just ordinary monsters in the audience. The ones here are undoubtedly elite, high-ranking monsters allowed to stand before the godlike rulers of Babellion.
But that doesn’t mean he can just cry and run away barefoot. Whether it’s paradise or a death trap, once he steps in, there’s no option to escape to Fredrin II.
Fredrin II consciously tensed his knees, trying not to collapse in laughter, and with a determined face, he took step after step into the depths of the audience chamber. There was no time to check if Duke Marshall and others were following behind. He focused all his nerves on behaving like an emperor and pushed through what seemed like hours, until finally, Fredrin II reached the farthest reaches of the audience chamber.
To the left and right, there were several imposing monsters wearing splendid mantles that clearly marked them as high-ranking officials. At the top of the staircase in front, with what seemed to be a national flag as a backdrop, sat a throne bathed in the iridescent glow of stained glass.
However, the throne was unoccupied. The ruler Charlierel, whom Fredrin II and the others had intended to pay their respects to, was nowhere to be seen.
Fredrin II did not think they are looking up to some imaginary god that doesn’t exist as their ruler. The reason for the vacant throne was clear: it was a performance by Babellion, expressing the stance that they were not worth the ruler’s time, highlighting the absolute difference in their positions without uttering a single word to Fredrin II.
Fredrin II knelt at the front of the staircase where the throne stood, at the endpoint of the crimson carpet. His sword was not in his hand. He had been told he didn’t need to bring it, but he didn’t want even a hint of treachery to be felt, so he had forcefully left it behind.
Fredrin II had never bowed as a subject before, except to his father and grandfather, who were the previous emperors. There was no other country in the Ravendora Empire that would summon the emperor and make him kneel before the throne. So, he thought that if he had been told that such a thing could happen a little while ago, he would have been laughed at.
However, in this situation, he knew that unnecessary pride could not only destroy himself but also his country.
”I am Emperor Fredrin II of the Ravendora Empire.”
Fredrin II stated succinctly, adhering to the instructions from the knights who seemed to be the imperial guards, to announce the emperor’s name first at the designated position before stepping into the throne room.
Upon seeing this, the man who had been standing with his back to the throne at the foot of the stairs spoke up.
”I am Saint Tower Babellion’s second in command, Chancellor Felshiol.”
The man standing alone, facing forward, in contrast to the other vassals lined up on either side before the throne, proclaimed himself as the second in command. This position was equivalent to the prime minister in the empire. Although the prime minister’s office was currently vacant due to the seclusion of Elder Gifrons, a similar position existed within the empire.
Clad in solemn attire reminiscent of the high-ranking clergy, the man, Felshiol, bore four folded black wings on his back.
His gaze, clearly not one of equality, looked down upon Emperor Fredrin II and bore the same twilight-colored eyes as Azuriela, who had descended upon the imperial capital.
”Emperor Fredrin II of the Ravendora Empire presents a tribute to you.”
”A most commendable gesture.”
Felshiol casually perused the list of tribute items brought by the imperial guards of Babellion. He then summoned a civilian official and handed over the list, his twilight-colored eyes once again reflecting Emperor Fredrin II.
This is not a time for peace talks. This is a unilateral declaration by Babellion. They have two choices: either submit to their demands or face destruction.
There’s no room for pleasantries or negotiations. Felshiol is speaking as if he’s the voice of God, issuing commands without any room for debate.
Don’t even think about trying to negotiate or engage in a war of words. Just comply with every demand and submit. Fredrin II has no choice but to accept this. If even one of the Monsters present during this audience is unleashed, the empire will be easily destroyed. This is not a war, it’s a brutal invasion. There’s no honor in it, just a senseless tragedy of human suffering.
However, Fredrin II sees a glimmer of hope in the fact that Babellion is seeking submission from the start. If they were the kind of creatures who would eat humans alive or had a desire to destroy the world, they wouldn’t have demanded submission by taking Alfred and Lucia hostage.
In other words, Babellion’s aim is strictly to place the empire under its rule. The reasons and true intentions behind this are not fully understood. However, rather than seeking to dominate or colonize after destruction, Fredrin II perceived a desire to preserve the entire governing structure as a part of the country or territory.
”Firstly, the Ravendora Empire shall be considered a subordinate state to the Saint Tower Babellion.”
Indeed, thought Fredrin II, nodding internally. It was as expected that instead of claiming Babellion’s territory, it would be designated as a subordinate “nation.”
”The Ravendora Empire shall abolish the imperial system. Henceforth, it shall be known as the Ravendora Feudal Kingdom. Furthermore, the ruler shall bear the title of feudal prince, and hereditary succession shall be recognized, but approval and appointment shall be entrusted to the Saint Tower Babellion.”
Once Babellion seizes the emperor’s right to appoint, it means that even if Fredrin II wants to appoint Alfred as his successor, he would have to appoint another emperor if Babellion deems him unfit.
However, acknowledging hereditary succession does not imply an intention to unilaterally declare Felshiol as the next emperor, but rather signifies the desire for governance by the royal family of RavendoraHarenamerehta.
”The Ravendora Empire shall pay a certain annual tribute to the Saint Tower Babellion. However, the amount shall be determined anew after investigating tax revenues, the national treasury, and crop yields.”
This was as expected. Just as vassal nobles pay a certain portion of their land tax, it is fundamental to pay taxes to the ruler if one is subordinate. Although there is a slight unease about the amount not being fixed at present, he can only believe that they will not demand an exorbitant sum, as they will conduct an investigation before deciding.
”The Ravendora Empire has agreed to cede the territory managed by the Western Command Office to Saint Tower Babellion as a direct territory. Within one month from today, the empire’s troops and officials are to be withdrawn. However, the residents of the territory are naturally to remain under the jurisdiction of the territory.”
The Western Command Office refers to the western region of the Ravendora Empire, centered around the old capital. It is not surprising that Babellion, located near the old capital, would demand the surrounding area as a direct territory.
Furthermore, the territory in question is entirely under the direct jurisdiction of the emperor. This is due to the fact that the western region is one of the continent’s leading granaries, and has been the source of bloody wars both domestically and internationally over its rights and interests. As a result, the region has always been a smoldering tinderbox of war. Therefore, without placing territorial nobles, the empire’s troops have been used to guard it as the emperor’s direct territory.
About 20% of their country’s land is really important because it’s where they grow a lot of their food. It hurts to lose this land, but if a powerful force called Baberion can keep the peace and prevent wars, that’s actually comforting.
In the past, King Frederick II joked that he didn’t have a say in this matter, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
So far, everything has been about taxes and land, which were expected. If someone asks if he wants to accept this situation, he would rather not. Of course, what’s being discussed is not good for the empire, but it’s not entirely unacceptable either.
He felt a bit relieved that there weren’t any extreme demands like sacrificing people or asking everyone to stop being human.
Fredrin II’s eyes widened in response to the demand. Despite Fredrin II’s agitation, Felshiol continued without concern,
”Princess Lucia will be placed within the Saint Tower Babellion as the ambassador of the Ravendora Kingdom.”
In an instant, one of Fredrin II’s worries about the fate of his child had been decided.
”This is the proclamation from Saint Tower Babellion. Subordination or destruction.”
The proclamation had ended. The terrifying content of sacrifices and such had been avoided. But to forget that, Fredrin II took time to understand the final two provisions.
Fredrin II remembered every word Azuriela had said. Azuriela had mentioned that the two were alive, but had not explicitly confirmed their return.
Felshiol… Babellion announced the appointment of Alfred as the first director of the Western Command Office. Whether this is merely a titular position or if he will actually assume the duties as deputy is uncertain, but what’s crucial is that the Crown Prince of the Feudal Kingdom will be serving as the director.
Appointing Alfred as the first director implies that, at present, he is recognized as the heir. And if the empire, now the Feudal Kingdom, remains as a dependent state but is left as a single country, the prince of the Feudal Kingdom will inevitably be placed in the capital. In other words, stating that Alfred will eventually return is tantamount to a declaration.
However, Lucia–
After a brief silence,
”The Ravendora Empire pledges allegiance to Saint Tower Babellion.”
Fredrin II nods as if spitting out blood, but that was not the end of his words.
”However, I have one wish. I want you to undo the petrification of Marquis Riodore, Duke Barellun, and Duke Granham.”
Right after that, Fredrin II sensed a slight shift in the presence of Duke Marshall and Duke Sandril. He hadn’t spoken this request to anyone before, but it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea. He had been thinking about voicing the request, even if it meant being refused.
Upon hearing Fredrin II’s words, Felshiol, who had never shown any emotion like a mask until now, twitched his eyebrows. It was a reaction of astonishment, perhaps because he hadn’t expected Fredrin II to come and negotiate, or maybe it was a response to the content of the request.
Felshiol didn’t respond immediately. He looked down at Fredrin II, showing a thoughtful expression, and took his time to consider. But��
”I will solve it. Come back later with the stone statue.”
Those words that echoed in the audience room changed the world, which had been completely static, as if they had wandered into the world of a painting.
All the monsters present in the audience chamber, including Felshiol, simultaneously knelt towards the throne. As they tried to comprehend the significance of this act, the figure behind the voice slowly emerged from the doors on the platform.
It was a young man. His face was so perfectly chiseled that it could stir emotions in anyone, long hair that seemed to be made of real silver, and six black wings… a figure befitting the ruler of this beautiful tower’s world.
After staring intently for a few moments, Fredrin II hastily bowed. However, as he gazed at the crimson floor, Fredrin II was perplexed.
Indeed, Charlierel had an exquisitely beautiful appearance, almost divine. Yet, despite his appearance, he could easily mistake him for a villager in disguise, devoid of any aura.
While Felshiol and the other monsters emitted a staggering aura, Charlierel exuded no strength whatsoever. Despite this, the terrifying monsters exhibited utmost awe and loyalty towards Charlierel, who emitted no aura at all.
At that moment, a thought crossed Fredrin II’s mind. Could it be that Charlierel isn’t actually as strong as believed? Despite not underestimating or feeling relieved about it, standing before a god with no discernible aura, such a hypothesis arose.
In societies of monsters and beasts, the simple rule often is that the strong individual is esteemed. Therefore, Fredrin II, Duke Marshall, and other close associates considered Charlierel to be the strongest among enemy forces, even stronger than Azuriela or the dragons who attacked the imperial capital.
But upon further reflection, it might have been a misunderstanding.
Fredrin II is not an emperor simply because he is strong. The invisible power of authority and the intelligence to comprehend it mean that the leader of an organization does not necessarily have to be the strongest individual. And if there are strong individuals who faithfully carry out orders from their leader, even if the weakest individual were placed as the leader, the organization could still be the strongest.
Actually, the god who created this tower… no, this world, couldn’t possibly be weak. Fredrin II understood that clearly.
But there was something inexplicable about Charlierel, something that made Fredrin II feel a kind of doubt or suspicion swirling in his mind like smoke.
Click clack! The sound, like the ripples of iron, shook Fredrin II’s eardrums.
It was a fleeting sound, but it definitely came from behind Fredrin II. He lowered his head and only turned his gaze towards the back, where Knight Aurone was dripping with big beads of cold sweat as if he had been drenched in water. Knight Aurone, who had been composed while looking at the tower and the plains, now had a face as pale as a child who had seen something he shouldn’t have.
Seeing this, Fredrin II felt ashamed of himself for even harboring foolish doubts. Like Duke Marshall, who had once slapped his younger self for recklessly seeking glory in his first battle and ending up in a near-death situation, Fredrin II wanted to smack himself in the head for the thoughts he had just minutes ago.
It’s not normal to feel no aura from Charlierel.
Not feeling an aura doesn’t mean weakness. Just as strong individuals emit a strong aura, so do the weak.
Some skilled assassins and spies can fake such an atmosphere. But fundamentally, regardless of strength, everyone emits a corresponding aura.
In the audience chamber filled with the aura of formidable individuals that makes the skin tingle, the Monsters, each capable of destroying a country, seem to clash their auras as if each believed themselves to be the strongest, almost suffocating in the process. There is a conspicuous void only at the throne, as if an abnormal humanoid air mass were seated in the middle of the sea.
So, it’s not that Charlierel isn’t emitting any aura. It’s just that Fredrin II is unable to sense it.
Humans can gaze upon the heavens, yet they cannot know the heat of the sun. Even if they know its great power, they cannot know the immense might of the sun with their own bodies.
The difference between the power of humans and gods is as distant as that between the earth and the sun. Once a hero who vanquished the fiery dragon that ravaged the empire, Knight Aurone, one of the few mighty warriors on the continent, could sense a glimpse of that power, but Fredrin II could not at all.
In the next moment, Fredrin II’s actions were instinctive. It seemed as if his body moved on its own accord.
Fredrin II bent his left knee and placed both knees on the ground. It was not a gesture of submission, but a posture of reverence towards the gods.
”I permit you to raise your head and state your name.”
”I am grateful. My name is Fredrin II.”
Charlierel was truly a “god” when he understood everything and looked at him again. The eerie gaze pierced him because he felt nothing.
”Will you accept my proclamation or not?”
”Great God, I pledge my loyalty.”
Charlierel nodded satisfactorily at Fredrin II’s words. And without saying anything more, he lightly moved only his fingers to show.
Immediately after, the large doors of the audience chamber through which Fredrin II had just passed slowly opened.
”Father.��Your Majesty!!”
It was Fredrin II’s suppressed wish to turn to that voice, even though he must not let personal feelings interfere. He couldn’t run over and embrace them.
But just a little, while hanging his head, he turned his gaze behind. And seeing his two beloved children there, Fredrin II let out an involuntary groan at the pain in his chest.
Felshiol stood up and gazed at Fredrin II,
”Well then, Fredrin II, make the oath of allegiance.”
For Fredrin II, those words meant a declaration of defeat. And for Alfred and Lucia, the meaning was about to change even more.
But there was no turning back now. It was already beyond control… and with a sense of resignation, Fredrin II felt his back teeth crack as he lifted his face.
It was to tell the children the outcome of everything.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.