Paladin 4: Chapter 22 (Patreon)

Darren had done this conquering thing enough times by now that his people knew what to do without even getting orders from him. They established order, made their presence and the change in rulership known in every town and village that still had enough people left to matter, and generally told everyone things would be just fine.

But that was far from the only thing they did. The disruption caused by the loss of so many people was great, and what supply chains they had were broken. The towns villagers used to go to for market were empty. And the few surviving townsfolk only had what food they had in their larders.

The rural villagers had plenty of food since most of them were farmers, but in a few months’ time, they’d start running out of tools, clothes, and the other accouterments of civilization they usually went into town to trade their food for.

Something had to be done, and the sooner it was done, the better. Fortunately, the Blackwind Empire was getting back on its feet, so Cassandra could redirect some of the aid shipments being sent from Limedeep to them over to Whiteguard and Eastwind. Free food, tools, and clothes would buy enough time for Whiteguard’s society to reorganize from its broken remains. It would also do a lot to ingratiate the people with their new ruler. Every box of goods was stamped with a note from a representative of Darren Heavengrace, along with a crude portrait in celebration of his new reign.

That had been Thalia’s idea, though there the aid boxes included both their faces. The common folk of the Empire rarely received any attention at all from the higher echelons of society, so having a gift sent to their village by the highest powers of the Empire left quite an impression, and by now, everyone knew the faces of their emperor and empress and spoke of them with fondness and inspiration. By the time Whiteguard had been fully rebuilt, it would hopefully be the same.

While Darren’s people kept busy, he explored the palace.

He’d never had much interest in palaces and grand structures like this before. His place back in Limedeep was more for his women than for him. To him, it was no more important than one of the hundreds of caves he’d used and abandoned while traveling the upper layers of hell.

But this palace felt different. He felt like he should sense a connection to it. Like there should be some bond between him and the life that he could have had.

His mother walked these halls as a girl. He tried to imagine her playing with other children in the courtyard or dancing in the ballroom. His mother’s entire family lived in this place for generations.

They were gone now, but he remained. He was ignorant of their legacy, having been too young to remember anything about this place. But that didn’t stop him from admiring its weather-worn beauty.

He returned to the family vault, where Captain Emilia had taken him before. The shield artifact that protected the palace was still there. He’d turned it off earlier, so his people come and go freely from the palace. It wasn’t as good as the one back in Limedeep, but it was undoubtedly a powerful heirloom.

And it was just one of the dozens more on display. Ordinarily, the first thing Darren would have done after finding this room was take everything and shove it into his Inventory. But that didn’t seem right. These things belonged here, so here is where they would stay.

He had his eyes on one item in particular.

Absolute Analysis: Item Analysis

Crown of Whiteguard (Epic)

The sacred crown of Whiteguard given to their first king by the seraphim as a reward for his many completed quests and his dedication to protecting the mortal world from demons.

The crowd contains memories recorded from the minds of all those who have worn it, allowing the crown to grow more powerful with each generation. May the rulers of Whiteguard ever be wise and just.

The crown had lain on its pedestal, gathering dust for years. It was a family artifact, so the puppet the Order of the Rod placed on the throne had no hope of wielding it. He’d had a gaudy-looking hat made of exotic silk, laden heavy with gold and gemstones.

But the crown in Darren’s hands was a simple band of silver. Any smith could make something like it, though few could match the mirror-bright finish. Nor could any match its magical effects.

Darren placed the crown on his head. It should have been too small for him, but it swelled to wrap around his brows. It was more comfortable than it looked. He hardly felt like he was wearing anything like the metal had sculpted itself to his head.

“Descendant,” spoke a voice that rang through Darren’s ears. Before his eyes, a window opened up, and he was looking at a white-haired bearded man wearing the same crown that now adorned his head. “If you receive this message, you have inherited my title as king. This symbol of power contains the memories, plans, and wisdom of our family, passed down throughout the generations. Learn from the kings who came before you and add memories of your own for those who come after you.”

“Hello?” Darren spoke to the image, hoping to speak with it. But then the message repeated, deaf to his words.

The memories were useful, though not quite as vibrant as he had hoped. He’d wanted to be filled with visions of the distant past and look into the memories of a few of the kings who came before him. He thought he’d get to peer in on them as young princes and see what their lives were like growing up here.

Instead, he was greeted with an interface much like his sigil’s. He scrolled through images, sounds, and long text articles. One was a map of the palace and of the city. Another was a list of long-term economic objectives emphasizing the importance of good roads running throughout the kingdom.

He saw a moving image of one of his distant ancestors speaking to himself in the mirror, going over how to write and perform a good speech for different audiences. There were a lot of useful things in there, though all of them related to being a king.

He left his ancestral vault, mind turning back to Captain Emilia’s words. There were books aplenty here, though none of them were skill books. He checked with the crown and discovered she’d been truthful. His ancestors had all contributed incredible feats of science, economics, mathematics, medicine, and engineering. Their contributions turned Whiteguard into such a powerful, advanced nation, where they could secretly dominate even the Blackwind Empire thanks to their tremendous power and influence.

What would he contribute?

All of his ancestors studied vigorously throughout their youth, in addition to copious practice with weapons and in completing quests. The royal family had long believed a good king needed to be healthy in body, mind, and spirit.

But Darren lacked that royal education. Though he thought he had a better head on his shoulders than most, especially since becoming a fifth-order human, he knew where his talents lay and where they didn’t.

Perhaps he could lean on what he knew. His contributions could be about demon slaying. Or maybe about the deeper secrets of Divine Aura control or how the lower levels of the Seven Hells truly worked.

He was still pondering such matters when he realized the sun was rising higher, and he would soon have his first day at court.

He emerged from the family archives and walked through the throne room. The palace was surprisingly well-staffed, considering how much of a loss the rest of the Whiteguard’s populated regions had taken. The royal guards weren’t the only ones who took their jobs seriously.

As he passed, he was greeted with gracious bows and flowery words.

“Greetings, your majesty!”

“Most auspicious day to you, your majesty!”

“It is an honor to serve under your name, your majesty!”

The greetings continued until he arrived in the throne room, where he was greeted by a full contingent of the royal guards lining the walls, along with Captain Emilia, Morgana, and two of Darren’s own fourth-order warriors.

“All rise for his majesty! Darren Heavengrace, King of Whiteguard, Limedeep, Salsroth, Eastwood, and Emperor of the Blackwind Empire!” Captain Emilia announced upon his entrance.

More people in the throne room than Darren thought were left in the city. He shouldn’t have been too surprised, though, since he’d been getting reports of more survivors in the towns they’d purified from all over.

The people of the Sacred Seas knew that corpses brought about undead, especially when gathered in large numbers. The moment the survivors saw so many of their countrymen dead, they fled to their shelters and their underground hiding places to wait out the invasion. It had been a long time since Whiteguard had to deal with undead in mass, but people hadn’t forgotten how to. Simply hiding underground and waiting for the corpses to rot away or move elsewhere was one of the most common strategies for an average person to deal with them. Now they were coming out again.

“First up, we have Tannon of the Brewers District,” Captain Emilia announced. “Tannon, present yourself before his majesty.”

“G-greetings, your highness,” Tannon began. He was a stout man with a graying beard that reached halfway down his chest. His apron was stained with old ale. “I have a few questions about taxes. With so many dead, business in the shops is going to be bad. I know you expect a bit of coin after a successful conquest... ah... I mean... the liberation of the city. But--“

Darren held up his hand. “There will be no taxes this year. Rebuild your shop and your city.”

Tannon looked overjoyed. He turned to a dozen other shopkeepers in the crowd, all overflowing with excitement at the news.

“Thank you very much, your most gracious majesty!”

The next to present themselves to Darren was a woman wearing rough rags. She looked dirty and tired, but she smiled hopefully at Darren.

“Milord, I must beg a request of you. The well on the west side of town has been contaminated. It wreaks blood and decay. The Steward would do nothing about it, but I was hoping you could send someone to look.” She wrung her hands through her dress nervously.

“I will go myself when this is done,” Darren replied.

“Y-you mean you will check on it personally?” The woman’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

The guards waved the next person forward. They were worried about the Order of the Rod and if they’d come to reconquer the city.

“If they come, they will stand no chance against us,” Darren replied. He and his people were here to stay.

The next person had a sick and injured child, and with all the Demonic Aura floating around, they were worried about their child turning into an undead. Darren ordered the child to be brought to the palace, where one of his priestesses could talk a look.

The only problem Darren couldn’t solve was a land dispute, where two men claimed they owned more than he suspected would be true. They had captured the palace records intact, so they would be able to sort out the mess eventually, but not before they found someone actually willing to go through all that paperwork. This was one task that Darren had no plans on doing himself.

“You will content yourself with your own shop for now,” Darren told the both of them. He suspected they were trying to move into their dead neighbor’s shops to take over their old businesses for free. But he wouldn’t allow that. The best way to draw people back into the cities would be to tell their countryside relatives that they’d inherited a storefront or home. Those relatives could sell or reopen the storefronts and homes as needed. If there was no clear owner, the palace could take the property back and resell it at a later date.

The last person in line to meet with Darren on his first day holding court in Whiteguard was a familiar face. Captain Emilia of the Royal Guard.

“Captain Emilia,” Darren nodded in her direction as she knelt on one knee, as humble as the peasants and townsfolk, despite her station.

“Yesterday, I failed in my duty,” Captain Emilia said. “I should have recognized the true king of Whiteguard the moment you made your presence known and used all my power to overthrow the pretender who ruled over us to clear the way for you. For that, I offer my life in penance. I take full responsibility for any ire you might hold with the royal guard. Just don’t take it out on my men.”

Darren waved his hand. “I do not blame you, so do not blame yourself.”

“Shall I train my replacement to take over my post? Surely, you would want someone absolutely loyal to you as commander of your royal guards?” Captain Emilia looked over at the fourth-order paladins standing quietly in the throne room off to either side. Not that their new king needed any guards at all. Captain Emilia still hadn’t sorted out facts from fables, but if the rumors reaching her were true, King Darren was a one-man army and had proved himself as such on multiple occasions.

“You are absolutely loyal to me now, yes?” Darren asked, head cocked slightly to the side. His piercing eyes felt like they shot right through Captain Emilia’s soul.

“Yes, absolutely,” Emilia confirmed with a quiet gulp.

“Then you will remain in command. I need someone who knows Whiteguard well. There is much to do and little time to train a captain anew.”

Captain Emilia felt tingles in her stomach. She hadn’t expected to keep her head, let alone her position.

“Gratitude, your majesty.” Captain Emilia took in a deep breath. “It occurs to me I have not given you my oath of loyalty. Every royal guard member must be sworn in again now that we have a new king. Allow me to be the first.”

Kneeling, Captain Emilia gave her oath of loyalty, which Darren accepted with the same easy expression he’d worn throughout the entire court session. He returned the oath in kind and looked prepared to send the captain on her way when she felt something nibbling at her consciousness. There was something else she needed to get in the open.

Darren sensed her hesitation. “If a demon has your tongue, step closer so I can slay it.”

Captain Emilia blinked. “Pardon?”

Morgana, off to Darren’s side, smirked. “He’s asking you to spill it. Whatever you are thinking about saying, say it.”

“Well... I couldn’t help but notice you and your men are desperately searching for where the Order of the Rod and those loyal to them have run off to.”

Darren perked up on his throne. “You have clues?”

“Better than that. I was invited to go with them.” Captain Emilia wore a slight smile on her lips when she realized she’d caught Darren’s attention. This was the first time he’d worn anything other than a slight encouraging smile during the entire day at court. He stood straighter, and his gaze focused on her with an intensity she’d never felt from the Steward when he sat on that throne. This was the gaze of a true king.

His companions were considerably more expressive. Morgana jumped to her feet and waved her to continue.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Spit it out!”

“Just a week prior, I was approached by a member of the Order of the Rod. They informed me that our time on the mortal world was ending and that it was time to ascend to the heavens above. Much of Whiteguard’s common folk would be coming with us, though they would serve a lesser role than the paladins following in Kalaziel’s image.”

There were a few looks of distaste around the room. Everyone who’d lived through the disasters of the last few days had a good guess about what Emilia was referring to.

“Anyway, they gave me somewhere to meet them. It’s a popular meeting place for paladins, and I can point it out on a map. If you’re to find out where they went, that’s the best place to look.”

Darren stood. “Show me.”

***

Darren and Captain Emilia took flight. Morgana and six of Darren’s fourth-order warriors followed close behind. They soared over the countryside, and he noticed they got a few waves from the villagers as they passed overhead. Unlike in other parts of the Sacred Seas, winged humans were a much more common sight in Whiteguard.

“It should be just ahead! Not much further!” Captain Emilia pointed toward a nearby set of mountains.

To Darren’s sight, they looked odd. It took him a moment to understand why, but he realized the mountains felt like they were in a strange place. He’d seen enough of the world to know that mountains usually formed lines and were among many others of their kind. But these mountains stood alone, clustered around a single larger mountain that stood tall and defiant, like a finger piercing the heavens.

And as Darren sensed the Divine Aura in the area, he realized that was exactly what it was.

“Hmm... it doesn’t look like there’s anyone here. Was I wrong? I expected to see the entire Order of the Rod gathered here...” Captain Emilia muttered.

“Look.” Darren pointed to the largest mountain.

Thick white clouds flowed over the mountain peak, obscuring it from ordinary sight. But they were getting close enough now that human eyes could make out its features despite the mist.

A thin line ran up the side of the snow-capped peak of the abnormally tall mountain. And as they drew closer, that line resolved itself into a path leading straight to the peak. And that mountain peak went straight up until it found a tiny pinprick in the sky. Darren knew what it was on sight. He’d gone into one, after all. That was an aperture leading to the First Heaven.

“Is that a stairway?” Morgana yelled over the rushing wind.

Darren nodded, face solemn. “A stairway to heaven.”