B2- Ch 18: Declaration of War (Patreon)

Winter came and went in the blink of an eye. Since we didn’t travel to Valencia to visit Regma and Chief Zora, we spent most of our time indoors, working on the schooling system while Carter finished manufacturing equipment for mass-producing .50 snipers and bullets.

To Rema’s dismay, I started using Scribe in the audience chamber, making decisions as (now) eighty pens worked around the clock to transcribe books.

She didn’t think it was necessary.

I did.

Even though I was twice as productive as when I started, I was still only outputting one book daily, if not every few days, depending on the number of images. Then, the book needed to go to the printers, who had to work around the clock to set the characters into the right placements to mass-produce even a single page.

Fortunately, the books were a smash hit.

By prioritizing game-changing works for industry and trade, kingdoms bought them at premium prices despite only a few people being able to read. As a result, I was able to instantly make up all my investments—

—a true Christmas miracle.

Riley had now employed over a thousand people from Goldenspire, Sundell, Silverbrook, and everywhere in between to start printing, and Timothy’s Woodworks found itself at total capacity.

She even opened her own paper-making company so she didn’t have to rely on her suppliers to keep working. In time, Riley would learn she was using a “backward integration” business strategy from the books she printed. But for now, she just proved herself to be a competent business leader who proved that book learning was unnecessary to a certain degree.

Thousands of copies of the Farmer’s Almanac hit the shelves, followed by Gray’s Anatomy and dozens of mathematics, physics, and science textbooks.

“Physics won’t be the same on this planet, so use the methods to figure out how it works here,” I’d say to scholars. “The scientific method is just that—a methodology, not a law. It works everywhere.”

Sure, they were from Earth, but they were still gold, and people soon realized that, especially in the realm of things like architecture.

Soon, businesses were investing ten gold in books and starting to build bigger buildings, design things better, and build advanced equipment. In only a few months, the economy had accomplished more than I had in the last year.

“I’m finally strong enough to do this….” I had said as I printed out electricity and lighting textbooks. “So long as I control the guns, I can give people whatever….”

There was a part of me that was still paranoid that a country would become too advanced and start attacking me. However, I kept reminding myself that I was physically strong enough to fight archwizards and controlled an army wielding .50 caliber sniper rifles. Most importantly, we had all the knowledge I wasn’t giving to people—

—namely, how to make explosives, which we were now mass-producing.

With snipers posted outside, we had built full manufacturing facilities for making gunpowder, and we were cranking it out by the ton.

Things were getting close. We would soon be traveling to Antigua, which would determine the fate of humanity.

If I could conquer it, the world would win against the calamity.

If I failed, I’d die.

This pivotal moment would determine world cooperation, technology, and modernization.

As we approached, I kept asking myself, “Is this really the time?”

Sure, we needed oil to advance, but maybe a few more years, or even a decade, to solidify our guns and machinery. Hell, we might find someone magic that can drill for oil and do fracking, and we’d get natural gas and solve our problems.

Perhaps it was just a conservative mindset. I wasn’t the warrior-conqueror type. Sure, I needed Goldenspire to feed my people, gain a trading port, and grow. But did I actually need to conquer the world?

Whenever I looked at Thea, visited my little brother and sister, and thought about the people I cared about, it made me question: is it truly necessary? Could I dominate the world through sheer economic might like the United States? Was diplomacy impossible?

It wasn’t the slight emotions telling me this—

—it was my sense of rationality.

I was about to go to war with a continent of countries far stronger than any in Novena, many helmed by Earthians with decades, centuries, or perhaps millennia of power-building and battle experience. Even if there was a power scale, what if people reaped the souls of entire armies for thousands of years? Or, worse, what if Earthians reaped the souls of other Earthians? 

It wasn’t a joke.

I wasn’t taking on King Redfield with cheat code technology. No, this was in a different league entirely. Just thinking about it made the hairs on my arms stand up and set off my heart.

That’s where I was at the moment, riding with Thea, Zenith, and Rema on a skywhale, surrounded by an armored battalion of thunderstag-mounted Immortals.

Our destination?

The Valerian Capital’s colosseum—the same that hosted the suitor’s tournament. It was mostly a symbol of our alliance. We were proving that I was comfortable in the place where I was attacked by Edikus and confronted King Redfield. It was a symbolic gesture, but the atmosphere was intense.

“It’s strange coming here without cheering in the streets,” I commented, leaning my cheek against my fist. “You’d never think that there were a hundred world leaders here. It’s almost eerie.”

It was a hot day in Solstice’s equivalent of July, and the entire city was bustling with sweaty builders replacing cobblestones with concrete. Others rode wagons full of Everwood wheat to the marketplace or built new buildings for businesses. Since Valeria was bustling with more trade than ever, no one even batted their eyes at the Everwood Company skywhale, which was so ubiquitous that it blended into the background.

The entire world was quickly following our example and modernizing, thinking about a future of prosperity, not war and famine.

Rema frowned. “It is eerie. Usually, you’d have the kingdom’s citizens showing up for the trial to legitimize the killing. But you already did that.”

To kill a king, the new ruler had to act fair and magnanimous. Therefore, they’d give public trials as a way of seeming fair and righteous, even though it was a fraud.

“So now it’s just a matter of war politics, and the citizens stay out of war politics,” Rema remarked but frowned. “Well, until they’re pawns.”

A slight silence paused until Zenith smirked. “You look rather bothered by that. I wouldn’t think that, given that you’re the most… political of us.”

The redhead’s eyes lit up at the implied insult, staring at the silver-haired woman with a deadly glare. However, Zenith didn’t back down, almost daring her to fight.

‘When did they start fighting,’ I thought. ‘Is Zenith frustrated that Rema’s taking up more of my time?’

It was strange to see Zenith react much. She was a battle junkie in practice, but when she was at the castle, she liked massages, lavish food, and long baths. She was an absolute sloth, so seeing her showing almost a rival-like spirit with Rema was a shock.

“We’re almost there,” Thea clapped. “So behave yourselves.”

Rema’s eyes turned vacant when Thea lectured her. However, they immediately turned grave again. “I agree. There’s no turning back from here on out.”

My pulse quickened, and my palms became clammy. As Rema previously noted, I wasn’t here to legitimize killing Priest Aelius. I was here to legitimize myself as a king and seek alliances—for an invasion of Antigua. That’s why the leaders were there in secret, with the citizens none the wiser.

The moment we touched down in the back of the colosseum, a group of twenty Immortals pulled out Priest Aelius, wrapped in chains and complaining.

No one broke his spirit.

We gave him hope so his bitching would let him dig his own grave.

—And it was already working.

As Priest Aelius made his way through the line of Novenan leaders standing outside to greet us, he snarled at them, saying things like, I’ll expose your crimes, King Emeric! or, I didn’t know you were willing to disgrace yourself for wealth, Redfield! and spat on the ground in front of them. When he saw Queen Elara, he made eye contact with her and then glanced at me and back and said, I thought you were a woman of honor. He chuckled and then leaned in close. Whore.

Before Priest Aelius even made it into the holding area, he had already lost all semblance of support from everyone except King Yorick of Frosthold, who was neutral to the last for pragmatism’s sake. So he was like a stonewall regarding anything that didn’t involve food imports to the north.

As he disappeared, Queen Elara turned to me. “Just because I don’t support Priest Aelius doesn’t extend our alliance beyond the Romba Strait,” she said. “Don’t act with my support today.”

Queen Elara had enlisted me to protect the Green Sea from Eudoria now that Rorsaka was gone. Once news of that spread, there would doubtlessly be demons sailing across the Romba Strait to attack, and she needed me to defend them.

To that end, I was building a railroad to the eastern continent where I could supply equipment in case of the war effort. That said, building a railroad didn’t mean common trade.

“You never fail to remind me,” I deadpanned.

“Kings don’t listen,” Queen Elara retorted.

“Of course, we don’t,” King Thrain snorted. “If we did, we wouldn’t be kings, now would we?!” He burst into laughter, seemingly finding it hilarious. However, after thirty seconds of silence, he looked around and saw the other leaders staring at him with listless expressions.

“Ah, fuckers, ignoring the obvious for the sake of politics,” he grumbled, summoning his flask and taking a swig.

King Redfield turned to me with a stern expression. “As your ally and the reason for the conflict, you have my support in invading Antigua,” he said. “But don’t overextend.”

I nodded.

“I’m just your business partner,” King Emeric said. “That may change, but you’re only fighting for countries to remain neutral. Don’t forget your goal.”

“Understood.”

I had matured a lot since the beginning, and I now knew that I couldn’t stomp around and do whatever I wanted. Losing an ally could cost millions of gold in trade losses. Things were complicated now.

As for those who hadn’t spoken, King Veil was ready for war. King Yorick was silent as always. King Ironfall was already in his skybox, likely ready to accuse me of crimes. King Elio, I learned, showed up wasted and was carted off to his skybox. Lastly, and most importantly, I couldn’t sense Edikus or any archwizard. However, I knew he was watching somehow.

“Rema, please join me,” King Redfield requested, to which she nodded and left to give her report on my activities.

“Zenith,” King Veil said. She nodded and did the same.

For some reason, I felt my ego deflate a bit when the kings took my princesses from me. Well, they weren’t my princesses, but I wish they were. Not sexually, but just because I was greedy. The more I achieved, the more I wanted, until I wondered how long it would be before I wanted the entire world and all the people in it.

Would I? Or, more importantly, would I end up like Him?

It was hard to tell. I was about to advocate for a war that could cause millions to be killed, starve, or fall victim to disease. And yet… I didn’t feel anything aside from rational fear and anxiety.

There were prices to progress, and progress has always been and will forever be built upon bloodshed.

Bloodshed meant control.

Control meant new laws.

New laws meant breaking up this world and all its archaic rules and practices born from magic power and nepotism.

That required war.

I gripped my fist, feeling blood pumping through my veins.

‘This is necessary,’ I thought. ‘Even if I’m greedy and power-hungry, it doesn’t change my goals or their value.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Either way, I’m the last shot their world will get.’

With those words, I walked into the staging room and waited for the announcer to begin the proceedings. When the time was right, he did so with a single statement: “Today, Priest Aelius stands accused of….”

From the room, I could hear him announce the crimes of Priest Aelius to the crowd of silent leaders.

Extorting money.

Monopolizing grain to raise prices and cause dependency issues.

Trade deals that undermined countries he was part of alliances with.

Holding a harem as a priest.

Politicizing the Solaran religion.

And so it went.

Basically, everything the leaders already knew about Priest Aelius’s practices—but let him get away with because of his position—was presented, sprinkled with despicable (albeit not heinous) crimes.

Once he finished, he announced my presence: “And now I present King Everwood, the accuser!”

With those words, chains latching the stone door hoisted it creakily, leaking sunlight and a blast of heat into the room as I walked out, shielding my eyes.

Murmurs spread between the one hundred skyboxes in the arena, each with a leader from various countries in Antigua.

Unlike Novena, there were five major regions in Antigua: Junto, Forge, Cyrvena, Jynthra, and Desiderata. Within these areas, there were countless kingdoms that were not necessarily united.

It likely got that way from significant conquests separating the world by culture. For example, Juntao was distinctly Asian in various forms, but there were dozens of kingdoms at war within it. Likewise, Cyrvena was a trade-based society, likely based upon European principles and norms, judging by the leaders’ appearances. So, when I initially approached the topic of war with Cyrvena, I learned that I was actually picking a fight with Syrvene and its territories. However, there were dozens of kingdoms within Syrvena who may be persuaded to fight them.

Those potential allies watched me as I walked out with a slight bow, eliciting applause from some and steely silence from others.

My heart pounded in my chest as I reached the center of the arena and met Priest Aelius on his knees in chains. 

It was nerve-racking. However, as I circled the audience, I remembered everything I had been through—the war, violence, stress, battles with archwizards, and labyrinth trials—and felt confidence surge through me.

“Welcome, honored dignitaries!” I called out. “If you do not know, I, King Everwood, am a reincarnator designated by the gods to protect this world.”

A wave of snorts and scoffs from many boxes met my words, but I could only smirk. “Considering that I only sent this invitation in Earthian languages, it seems that most of your lineages stem from Earthian leaders who came here with the same goal.”

The colosseum turned dead silent as people processed those words.

I smiled slyly at their response. “I’m sure you saw that list and noted a few, if not a dozen, alphabets from Antiguan countries and thought it was natural. It’s not. You can read those languages because of people like me.”

The gravity in the atmosphere intensified, and King Redfield and the other leaders held their breath. They knew that I was doing something different than blindly antagonizing Antiguan leaders, but they also knew that it was a gamble.

“And, like your forefathers and perhaps current leaders, I’m now a king, and this man attacked me and tried to massacre my people,” I continued, looking at Priest Aelius. “Now, with the support of the other kingdoms, who were victims of his crimes—”

“THIS IS BULLSHIT!” Priest Aelius yelled. “You attacked me! You lured us into traps! You slaughtered our people! Attack my nobles! No one will believe your lies!”

A blast of magical pressure forced the man into submission, choking on the ground. The atmosphere in the skyboxes chilled, leaving some with goosebumps and others with shallow breaths. Only about ten seemed unaffected—the people I had to worry about.

“—with the support of the various kingdoms, we apprehended this false priest and brought him to justice,” I continued, “tried him for his crimes, righted the wrongs in his kingdom, and established fair trade throughout the continent.”

I circled the audience. “Does anyone object to Priest Aelius’s execution?”

The area was dead silent. King Ironfall, who was enthusiastic only moments before, ready to speak against me, was shocked when he felt my pressure. My pressure was nearly twice as strong as King Redfield’s (before he ate Rorsaka’s meat). As a result, he realized that I was of a different caliber—even without my guns. Considering that I also had allies with every other country but Sunset Shore—a country that allied with no one—he held his tongue.

“This is ridiculous!” Priest Aelius roared, feeling his life teetering on the edge. “You owe me! I’ve done so much for you!”

He looked at all the Novenan leaders and then at King Bouchard, the leader of Syrvene, who had threatened me a few months prior. Today would determine if Syrvene went to war with the Everwood Empire or Novena, so he wouldn’t speak on his behalf.

“No one?!” Priest Aelius roared. “You traitors! King killers, all of you! I made you rich! Gave you bread! Helped you through my networks, religion, and people! And how do you treat your allies?! With death!”

For five minutes, he pleaded and insulted people simultaneously, constantly digging his own grave.

Once he fell on the ground sobbing and screaming, I finally raised my hand, confusing everyone.

"In the realm of justice, all are tried by their intentions and actions. Today, you stand before us, found forsaking the path of kingship and your people."

Priest Aelius screamed, sobbing and yelling as I delivered my judgment.

"Let the scales of justice bear witness to the judgment passed upon you," I finished, snapping my fingers.

A split second later, his wailing stopped when his head exploded, sending him flying to the ground.

As the world leaders watched in slow motion, confused about what had just happened, they heard a boom in the distance like thunder.

I circled them again, seeing their looks of shock as they searched for traces of magic—and found none.

“Thank you for bearing witness,” I said, bowing slightly. After a moment of pause to allow them to catch their breaths, I got to the heart of the matter. “Now, please allow me to address the reason you’re here today.”

The silence became deafening to the point that the leaders could clearly hear the workers bustling outside the arena, humming without a care in the world.

“The Everwood Empire is a mercantile nation that seeks to modernize the world,” I said. “While many of you, like Syrvena, believe yourselves superior in technology, you have just witnessed that you are not.”

An intense wind blew through the skyboxes as rage and humiliation washed over many, their egos quick to trigger. However, the bloodlust crashed against uncertainty for many—those who remained rational and played back the scene they had just witnessed. Somehow, a king—someone who could take a sword to the chest and be left with a scratch—just died in an instant. No: their head exploded like a ripe melon and without the slightest hint of magic. That made many hesitant to lash out despite their emotions.

“And while many might think I’m strong, or they think they’re strong, it’s all false,” I continued. “The enemy looming in eighty years is far stronger than all of us combined. If that weren’t the case, I and the leaders of your bloodlines and cultures wouldn’t be here.”

My words were bold, and I pushed past the anxiety to address them.

“When physical strength alone wasn’t enough, the gods chose me to modernize this world and give us power. And whether it’s modern manufacturing or weapons that do not distinguish between peasants and archwizards, that is what I’m doing.”

I circled everyone to make sure I met their gaze.

“Over the next year, I’ll be mass distributing texts on agriculture, metallurgy, technology, transportation, maritime travel, business, and other practical fields,” I said. “I’ll export machinery to harvest fields, stamp metal into pans, and bring light to the darkness. Throughout time, my allies will experience the greatest amount of wealth and prosperity in the world.”

Pausing, I continued, dropping a bombshell.

“And, as my allies in Novena know, I also export advanced weaponry to keep my allies safe.”

The atmosphere shifted, and those readying for war suddenly froze. 

“That’s right,” I said, speeding up my tone again. “I give my allies weaponry, cheap grain, and technology to survive magical attacks, cannons, and explosives. I send them soul mana meat and other valuable commodities as well. That’s because I genuinely mean to change this world and protect our people.”

A flicker of warmth and excitement filled everyone’s eyes as I spoke, picking up steam. I picked up speed, gathering a rhythm.

“The Everwood Empire is a mercantile nation, and we’re here to trade and not conduct war,” I said. “We can output three times as much wheat as we currently are, and our prices are 30% lower than Goldenspire’s prices, something that all Novenan kingdoms can attest to, save Ironfall.

“And, whether you’re in land or a port city, I will accept your trade—unless you threaten me as a nation. If you have, I will also trade with you. I only ask that you rescind your threatening statements and insults now.”

My heart thumped as I looked at King Bouchard, who was sitting with Maximilian. The king’s eyes filled with fury, and he didn’t move. However, all the leaders looked at the king with surprised expressions, narrow smirks, or evil grins, knowing that their ally or enemy was under the spotlight.

“No one?” I asked, staring at him. “Well, there is one country that threatened war and then came to my country, choked my partner, and declared war. And, it was bad enough that the Wraiths said that they would look the other way in the event of a war should this country’s leader not apologize for their behavior.”

My heart rattled in my chest as the kings and queens of Antiguan nations came to life with a flurry of speculation.

Everything became real.

Too real.

With that statement, it wasn’t empty threats, like watching two kids fight in school. 

No.

Depending on my words, all of Syrvene’s allied nations would get pulled into a war, and—given its bread basket status—many countries may get dragged into it.

When no one spoke, I continued, “I’ll remind you—I can feed plenty of kingdoms at 30% of the cost and supply steel goods at 50% lower than iron. I supply books on agriculture that cost 50 silvers, manufacturing equipment, exotic sweets and spices—and weapons.

“It’s quite profitable to do business with my kingdom, especially if a kingdom who is oppressing you with their grain export is—“

“Enough!”

The leaders turned to the twisted vestige of King Bouchard, standing in his French attire, red-faced and furious.

“If you want war, I’ll give you war!”

The atmosphere turned still as everyone processed his words, trying to process the gravity of the situation.

“Then so be it,” I responded coolly, turning to the other kingdoms. “Since the leaders of countless nations are here, please come visit Bringla to see my steamships and visit my capital in Sundell. I’ll show you the vast superiority of our manufacturing, commercial channels, and books and give you plenty of gifts. I’m sure that anyone who sees my commercial network will find neutrality, at a minimum, a very wise investment.”

Two high-level wizards began chanting in the skybox with King Bouchard, and several other wizards from allied boxes did the same, proving that they prepared for this ahead of time and orchestrated a response.

Suddenly, everyone felt like they might find themselves in a magical battle.

I broke the rules.

That’s what they’d say.

Sure, there was nothing saying that kings couldn’t get all the kings together and openly solicit them—it was just absurd.

Brazen.

Offensive.

Now, it seemed like, at any moment, high-level magic spells would crash from the skyboxes toward the upstart who had the gall to be so bold.

It was set in stone.

The spells were finalizing. 

The crowd was ready to react.

And then, in the midst of this, I put up my hand.

It was a simple gesture—the type someone would make if they were to signal a race or even to ask a question. However, that image—the image of me raising my hand and snapping my fingers, followed by a king’s head bursting like a ripe melon, blood showering to the ground—flashed in their minds, and they froze.

There was a hint of fear. Not of power, certainly not. There were Earthians in these sky boxes—some, I wagered, that were far stronger than I was.

No, it wasn’t the personal power. It was the fear of the unknown, the inability to identify what exactly happened to the Priest Aelius or why there wasn’t magic involved.

Guns? I’m sure they had some. A pistol, maybe? Who knows. Antigua could be a treasure trove of technology. However, if they had a pistol or a musket, they would certainly understand that this wasn’t that, and whatever this was could possibly scare Edikus and the Wraiths into letting me start an intercontinental war.

One more second.

Green illuminated the faces of the archwizards.

And then, in the midst of the chaos, I spoke up:

“Anyone who physically attacks me—“

My eyes turned ice cold.

“—will die.”

A lit second later, King Bouchard realized that his allies’ wizards had stopped their chanting and backed down. That was a problem. He planned to grind me into dust as other nations held back, unwilling to destabilize the agricultural trade between Cyrvenan countries and the rest of Antigua. After all, no one was an ally with me yet. However—

—it didn’t work out like that.

Reading the situation like a bad omen, he immediately turned to the wizards to call off the attacks.

However, it was too late.

Both launched massive fire spells that leveled the entire arena floor with flames, turning the sand into hot glass.

Everyone was stunned for a moment.

And then they heard it.

A distant boom.

Not one, but two, like sad drum beats to signal a leader’s death.

However, to them, it was a horrifying sound that was reminiscent of something frightening they had just witnessed. In a flurry, the leaders on the opposite side whipped their heads to King Bouchard’s sky box and found the two wizards dead; their brains spattered on the walls.

As they processed, more gasps rang out as most realized that I was still standing in the center of the arena, playing with the fire as if it were only natural.

“I suggest you stop attacking me, King Bouchard,” I smiled sinisterly. “If you so much as signal at someone after trying to assassinate a king—“

My smile creased into a threatening scowl. “—I’ll kill you right now.”

The area fell dead silent.

It had finally occurred to them that maybe, just maybe, I was telling the truth, and somehow, my Earthian technology could plunder Antigua. That made everyone feel fear—more fear than they had ever felt possible.

Only the strongest of kings were left calm and even fewer amused.

Everyone knew I was a threat now; they were forced to admit that.

“Twice now, your people have declared war or attacked me,” I taunted, shaking my head. “Leave.”

King Bouchard looked around, realizing that he was under the watchful gaze of a hundred kingdoms on multiple continents. This was beyond humiliating. If he were to back down now in front of everyone (before someone barely twenty, no less), they would smell weakness like sharks and start rushing toward my side, hoping to cut off a nice slice of his farmland.

And yet…

Looking at the two high-level wizards, people who were at the near-pinnacle of magic, dead within in an instant, he could tell that I had power—real power—and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

After his and Maximilian’s faces contorted and shifted in twisted disgust, humiliation, and rage, they exited the skybox.

I looked around once they were gone. If these people were citizens, they’d probably be clapping, cheering, cackling, cracking jokes, or calling the French leader names. It’d turn into a jovial spectacle of magnanimous proportions. However, they weren’t citizens, so they weren’t cheering, clapping, or cracking jokes. They were dead silent, looking at me as if to hear what I would say.

“King Bouchard entered my kingdom, threatened my people with war, and his regent choked my partner before my eyes,” I said, breaking through the dry and stagnant silence. “Any of you would’ve declared war on the spot—and so that’s what I did.“

I made eye contact with everyone, ensuring they could see my sincere expression.

“King Bouchard did not treat me like a king, and he’ll soon pay the price for that. The question is….” I paused to make sure I had their rapt attention. When I saw it, I executed my question, “Will you?”