Chapter 24: Napoleon's Throne (Patreon)

It was around 4:00 AM when Servene attacked. The area suddenly erupted in a cacophony of screeches, followed by a swarm of black reptiles that blocked out the moonlight. Each one of their battle cries rattled the storefronts of Harbor City, shattering windows and collapsing wagons. 

Syrvene’s lookouts were the first to die, ignorant sacrifices to prevent alerting us. While we couldn’t see what happened to them, we did see them drop off the wall like flies.

Next came the front lines, who were hit before the fortification wards stabilized the zone against vibrations and dampened sound. In a grotesque display, their ears ruptured, their bones shattered, and they collapsed formlessly on the ground. It was a truly macabre spectacle that let all our soldiers know the enemy they were up against.

Then, my soldiers put their fingers on the triggers of their Browning Machine Gun, Cal. .50, M2s, and squeezed.

Suddenly, a reverse meteor shower lit up the night, booming as terrorizing as the luge’s screeches rattled the airwaves—and the sound landscape shifted. The swarm, attacking with their reptilian maws open wide a moment before, were now howling in pain. It wasn’t high pitch like their attacks; it was a deep groan mixed with a wail, like something Orpheus heard coming out of the River Styx. Then their bodies boomed like thunder, crashing into stalls, soldiers, and cobblestones.

I watched with vicious eyes. “I’m going to execute the leaders publically.” It was clear that this was the work of General Roux, who held the keys to The Swarm’s chains. However, he was a lower general to Dubois, and the craven man’s indecisiveness was causing needless losses to my soldiers—and their prisoners after we saved them. “Let’s end this.”

Raising my hand to the sky, I started chanting. It wasn’t a normal chant, written in Skylandish Magical Alphabet, which translated magic. No, it was written in the language of the gods, the same that Edikus and the Wreaths used.

"Kathe líthos, kathe potámi, kathe fýsi ékhei mia istoría na diegísei," I began. Suddenly, the air chilled above the battlefield, and the air turned to mist, rising in the air. Icy, brutal rain dropped from the sky, stopped by the light barriers that we had in place as the oxygen in the atmosphere compressed and cooled rapidly. “émurmourouse, plíssontas to neró me ta dáktyla tou, dimiourgóntas rýthmous….”

The luges in the mist immediately thrashed from the blistering cold; those out of it found themselves breathless as the oxygen in the air disappeared, sucked into the mist. I was compressing liquid oxygen in the atmosphere, a highly volatile molecule—that’s very explosive.

“Epifáneia.”

A single spark shone brightly like a lamp turning on—

—then, a thunderous explosion shattered the airwaves, and the sky turned into a biblical torrent of fire, smoke, and debris. 

The Swarm was instantly blown away. Many on the periphery flew into the ocean; those near the wall crashed into the mighty wall. As for those in the center, they rained down in pieces, slamming into the barrier in a macabre rain of flesh that was rigidly shattered from being frozen.

The entire battlefield turned eerily silent. There was still noise everywhere, but compared to the chaos assaulting our ears a moment before, it felt empty and cold.

“Come on, Thea,” I said, putting on a gas mask. “Let’s get the rest of The Swarm.”

With those words, I started walking to Syrvene’s wall.

2

“What the hell was that?!” General Roux panicked. One minute, most of The Swarm was leaving in the largest attack of the last century, leading with an attack that summoned the underworld. The next moment, magic started raining from the ground, and the beasts started dropping like flies. Finally, the skies above Harbor City warped and exploded in a display so violent it challenged the heavens.

He looked around and found his soldiers praying to their gods or crying on the ground, clasping their hands over their undefended eyes. Their barriers didn’t shield them from the light that suddenly turned night to day over the ocean and spread for miles, so a few were temporarily blind.

“General Roux! Back down!” General Dubois yelled, furious as he approached. 

“We can’t back down!” General Roux snapped. “He will slaughter us now!”

“Who’s fault is that?!” his superior asked, cracking the man on the jaw with his fist. “Syrvene was lost without negotiations!”

“We agreed we needed leverage!”

“And now there is none!” 

General Roux gritted his teeth, the tension between the two threatening to start a fight to the death. 

Suddenly, the two turned when a soldier yelled, “Look! King Everwood is approaching!”

“We need to—“ General Roux cut off General Dubois. “Don’t you dare. Flay me alive later if you wish, but he’s coming to kill us now. But he’s presenting an opportunity. We need to kill him now!”

“Do you think you can?! Forget his weapons. Didn’t you just see the magic he commanded?!”

“That’s exactly it. He has powerful magic. He’s confident—so confident that he’s personally approaching the wall. We can use that,” General Roux reasoned. Then, he outlined his reasoning in depth. “We may not be able to stop his army, but we need to protect the rest of Antigua from this demon. General Dubois… think of everyone.”

General Dubois took a deep breath and watched as King Everwood approached the wall. The initiative was over. Their deaths were imminent. King Everwood was known for being merciless to commanders but was good-natured enough to save combatants the day before. Whatever happened, he was certain that whatever they did, only they would be to blame. As such, there was nothing to lose but everything to gain by making one last stand if the strategy was good enough—

—and he felt it was.

“Prepare for it, but wait for the order. If you feel it’s hopeless, do not endanger more of our men.”

“Sir.” General Roux saluted and ran down the wall to where the remainder of The Swarm awaited.

3

Thea and I approached the wall with one hundred Immortals in tow. As we arrived, a team stood near the wall with a wide gap. They wore masks with ear muffs. When I got there, I raised my hand.

The air stood still, and soldiers held their breath.

I dropped my hand. Suddenly, the wall erupted in a violent chain reaction of explosions. Plastic explosives had been planted fifty feet up and a hundred feet across, making a thunderous boom that sent rock and debris crashing into my barrier.

When the smoke cleared, we surveyed the damage.

It’s impressive, I’ll give them that, I thought in admiration. The wall was twelve layers thick, with fortification arrays on each. It could easily survive siege cannons and trebuchets without issue. But it’s not good enough.

Walking to the wall, I started chanting.

Limestone, sandstone, granite, marble, quartz, feldspar, clay, gypsum, mica, hematite, magnetite, pyrite, calcite, dolomite, kaolinite, muscovite, biotite, olivine, amphibole, pyroxene, serpentine, feldspathoid, chert, andesite, basalt, trachyte, rhyolite, diorite, gabbro, schist, slate, shale, siltstone, lignite, iron, steel, limestone.

I touched my hand on the wall. Separate.

For the first time in years, I used molecular separation. In a spectacular display, Syrvene’s Great Wall, which had stood for centuries, started crumbling like a sand castle in a fifty-foot arch as I walked forward.

When I got to the other side, I walked into a sea of terrified soldiers pointing siege cannons on the wall, prepared to shoot anything that walked in at any point. Behind them—luges, about one hundred of them, waiting to roar in unison, obliterating anything left behind—including their own soldiers.

Everyone quaked as my ward barrier entered the area between us.

“Concede Syrvene,” I ordered. “Even if you kill me, all you’ll earn is a swift death to every soldier’s family. Think about your comrade’s children before you decide to attack.”

General Roux scoffed. “Do you take us for fools? We’ve survived warfare. We know what happens to families during conquests.”

“Unlike you, I don’t sacrifice my soldiers,” I replied coldly. “Nor do I allow plunder or assault. Do not project your barbarity on me.”

He laughed. “You’re here to conquer Antigua. You’re no different than anyone before you.”

“If that’s true, you should lay down your weapons, as the atrocities that follow will be far more gruesome than if you don’t.”

The soldiers shook, and the luges snarled, waiting for the signal to strike.

“Concede,” I said, lifting my hand to them.

Just as the atmosphere began chilling, a massive array lit up around me with rainbow colors, and my barrier disappeared. It was a mana negation ward. They eliminated my magic abilities, and now there was nothing standing between me and the siege cannons that could shoot the better part of a mile pointed right at me. They were prepared to kill the king of their enemy—consequences be damned.

4

Six hours ago, Lena stared into Zenith’s amethyst eyes after she declared herself with Margrave of Servene and presented King Bouchard’s head. “Does this mean that Servene’s walls have fallen?”

Zenith smiled thinly. “No. We only showed up six hours ago. This is the result.”

Lena scoffed and kicked King Bouchard’s head back to her. “This means nothing. Your self-professed title means nothing. Unless you’ve breached Servene’s walls, you’re just a tin army on the other side of a large wall.”

The wyvern rolled her eyes. “You’re so ignorant.”

“No, you’re ignorant,” Lena sneered. “Even my magic can’t breach Servene’s walls. It’s surrounded on both sides by magic nullification wards.”

Zenith snorted. “It seems you’re ignorant and arrogant.”

Queen Boudica’s eyes flashed with murder. “You show up a few hours ago to another continent and call someone that has warred near Servene for centuries ignorant?”

“Are you really so boorish?” Zenith mocked. “How many kings have to follow before you face the reality of King Everwood?”

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “What is the reality?”

Zenith smirked tauntingly. “He doesn’t need magic.”

5

Before General Roux could give the order to fire to his quaking soldiers, dozens of canisters crashed and flew over my head, engulfing the area with yellow gas. The soldiers manning the cannons lost the ability to even strike a flint as their eyes started boiling and their skin blistering. The luges joined the chorus of screams with a haunting wail as the gas spread.

My soldiers rushed in front of me, wearing gas masks and airtight clothing as they walked in, holding Browning M2s like rifles.

“Save The Swarm—kill the rest.”

With my words, machine guns rattled into the mustard yellow mist, adding to the haunted symphony of death as we breached Servene’s wall.

6

Right after her declaration, Zenith kicked King Bouchard’s head back to Lena, Queen Boudica of Vervain. “You have the next five minutes to decide whether you will join King Everwood and retain most of your territory or die alongside your people when we conquer Vervain.”

Marvis’s eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be serious! This woman is our enemy! We don’t—“

“Silence!” Zenith waved her hand and slapped the dying man with wind magic, sending him crashing backward. “Vervain is King Everwood’s territory; he can do with it what he wishes. That includes creating alliances.”

“This woman….” He pushed himself up, coughing out blood from his wounds. He’d die soon without healing. “Is a monster. She’s our enemy—“

“No, she’s your enemy. Our war agreement is to gain territory and split it amongst the allies. How we do it is irrelevant. Don’t let your petty history stand before bloodshed, you clown.”

Marvis dropped to the ground, too weak to fight.

Lena looked into Zenith’s eyes. “He does have a good point. I was your enemy just a minute ago.”

“No, you were in an agreement with King Bouchard—now he’s dead. There’s no longer anything between us.”

Lena kicked King Bouchard’s head back to the self-proclaimed margrave. “It’s foolish to spare an enemy.”

“King Everwood spares no one that strikes him. You haven’t struck him. Lift your sword to me, and you and your people will die.”

Lena looked into Zenith’s icy eyes, feeling the gravity of the situation. It was clear that the odds weren’t in her favor. Just moments before, she was fighting for her life against regular soldiers with strange weapons. They weren’t enough to harm her once she broke their piercing power, but they would massacre her soldiers in droves, barrier or not. They were horrifying weapons.

Moreover—

She looked at King Bouchard’s severed head. Looking close, she saw a hole through it. It was clear that one of those weapons killed him—a century-long ruler of a titan nation. It finally occurred to her that she chose the wrong magic; it was indomitable for so long, but warfare changed.

“Why?” Lena asked. “If you’re strong enough to kill kings and siege cities in days, why would you side with someone that borders you?”

“Because your magic will be beneficial to the war at the end of the century,” Zenith replied. “Unlike you, King Everwood is committed to protecting you ungrateful fools against what lies ahead.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “So he’s conquering everything solely for our benefit?”

Zenith snorted. “No—he’s seizing what belongs to him. It just happens that it’s to your benefit.” She kicked King Bouchard’s head back to the queen. “Now, choose. Aid King Everwood and keep your life and land, or die for a contract that’s ended.”

Queen Boudica lifted her foot to punt the fucking head. However, she saw King Bouchard’s face and hesitated.

7

The battle for Servene ended in sixteen hours. As promised by my warning, anyone who remained in the city received a fate worse than death. Mustard gas spilled through every nook and cranny of the city, choking soldiers in every hideout they hid within. Every trap; every base; every retreat point was snuffed out in a violent display that this world had never known.

I didn’t do it haphazardly. Thea watched with crowls the night before and confirmed that almost all of the citizenry had vacated the city, moving to Vervain as per the arrangement with Queen Boudica. It came far sooner than they imagined, but after King Bouchard was confirmed dead by the guards upon my announcement, everyone fled in terror. Now, only soldiers who attacked us and those foolish enough to remain were amongst those wounded in the attacks.

My soldiers spent most of the time scouring the massive city for soldiers and rooting out their hot spots. Since mustard gas severely damages lungs and throats, the soldiers we found weren’t in the shape to fight us. They just screamed, alerting us to their underground tunnels, alcoves, and temporary bases.

Since there wasn’t any fight in the enemy soldiers, most of my soldiers worked around the clock to heal and subdue enemies. It took literal magic, but somehow, we turned canisters of pressurized war crimes into the most humanitarian weapons in the world. The world’s just like that sometimes.

That said, other countries didn’t teach their soldiers magic en masse, and even if they did, they wouldn’t use it. Thus, the weapon would die with this conquest, and its recipe would burn.

While we rooted out the city, Thea used the beast-taming knowledge she got from the labyrinth to speak to the luges, explain their situation, and connect to them with profound levels of empathy. The luges had been bred and trained to fight like pitbulls, and they were equally uncooperative. So Thea did what all beasts did to establish dominance—she asserted her authority.

Transforming into her full etheral panther body, dwarfing the sizes of the luges, she fought the strongest and ripped it to shreds in a brutal display. After that, the luges fell in line. They were devoted to me—but her—and that was one and the same.

After sixteen gruesome hours, every soldier and beast in the city was subdued and promptly locked away anywhere we could store them. Then I kicked down the door to the throne room of the Château de Servene, a French name that was certainly instituted by Napoleon. He was the only person that I could imagine with gun knowledge who would be chosen as a hero of this strange world. I doubted any other god would choose a nobody with a good memory to be their champion. So Napoleon it was, so far as I was concerned. He was a godly figure in history, the only one of two, in my opinion, who could hold a candle to Alexander the Great and the only one who was French.

That said, my admiration of Napoleon died when I walked into the throne room, filled with an impeding throne that had the initial “N” embroidered in it, along with the iconic imperial eagle and bees and his monogram.

“Yep, definitely Napoleon.”

“Do you know who the reincarnator was?” Thea asked beside me. She was the only person with me.

“Yeah.”

“Is that a good thing?”

I paused and then developed a twisted grin. Wait. Did I just dethrone Napoleon’s empire? I mused. Then I turned to her and spoke aloud. “It’s wonderful.” 

My ego soared as I walked over with powerful strides, nudging Thea to take the queen’s throne as I sat down. Then we commenced our ritual. Thea developed an ugly mug as she stared at invisible peasants, and I looked at the other end of the room with a megalomaniacal sense of greed and power that was insatiable. At that moment, I felt that I could seize the entire world, consequences be damned. I knew that would fade in the morning when memories of the last twenty-four hours replayed in my head, as always. However, for now, I let myself indulge in my power-driven fantasies that threatened to swallow me whole.

“Do you like that chair?” I asked.

“I do,” she smiled.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I’d love to.” This time, she wasn’t blushing or admiring. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she looked as power-hungry as I felt.

8

Weapons and magic aren’t the only thing that is overpowered in this world—political skills are, too. Rema worked around the clock over the next few days, overseeing the treatment of Servene’s soldiers, skillfully weaving stories about the atrocities of General Roux, and preventing blame from falling on General Dubois. The latter, she learned through interviews, was beloved by the soldiers for his fairness and rational-mindedness. As a result, she said that the man tried to save the soldiers, but General Roux acted on his own—something that General Dubois admitted to—amongst countless other things.

Within only a day, Rema had the beleaguered general wrapped around her finger, singing to her tune. To his credit, he wasn’t a pushover. It was just clear that my intentions were as advertised, and we ended up saving over 3/4ths of Servene’s soldiers, who were reinforced to some degree with soul mana.

The real tragedy was the hard-line citizens who either believed that Servene’s wall would never fall or believed that King Bouchard’s death was a conspiracy against any and all reason. General Dubois ordered the evacuation and announced King Bouchard’s death. There was no excuse. 

While I couldn’t care less about their deaths, it included their families and the elderly who were left behind.

That said, few children died. We concentrated gas in any area that had the ability to hide weapons or troops en masse; the gas that made it into the residential areas was caused by the breeze. As a result, the people suffered, but they didn’t die unless they were already weak. Still, we couldn’t overlook it.

This was war, but it still sobered my megalomania. Ambition had no place in the aftermath of victory or defeat. That’s what I decided.

Rema promptly made a spectacle of General Roux’s death. This man cost you a fourth of your soldiers against your general’s command, she had said to unchained combatants. In the face of our weapons, they were helpless children, so we didn’t give them room for widespread dissent. He’s the reason you suffered. Do you have any words, General? 

Yes. History will martyr me as a hero upon your downfall, General Roux replied.

You defied General Dubois’s orders, resulting in the needless deaths of your soldiers and a night of suffering for the rest, and you’re concerned about your legacy? she asked.

After that pointed comment, a change shifted, and his words rippled through the area like wildfire, burrowing into people’s souls. These were the soldiers who would spread the word of Rema’s official statement, and she had skillfully ensnared him.

General Roux’s panic when he noticed the shift sealed the deal. Are you all fools?! You’d believe your enemies?! Are you wild boars?!

Those words were completely negated by her earlier point, so his insults only inflamed the soldier’s rage, and soon, they were calling for his death.

Instead of delivering, Rema said that they’d execute him the next day. By then, the word spread like wildfire. Over a fourth of the soldiers showed up in a vicious mob. Once in a crowd, she roused the people with a harrowing speech of his deeds, which General Dubois publically confirmed, and soon, the entire mob turned into a bloodbath that demanded the man’s death.

General Roux was hanged that day, and the seeds of dissent died with them.

As for the other antagonizers, warmongers, and organizers, well, I took a page straight out of 1984. How do you want to suppress sedition? Rema had asked. Just make them go missing in the night. There are no martyrs when people don’t know what happened to someone—just fear.

Rebellion concerns reached a rock bottom low. 

Perfect.

Around that time, I got the visitors that I was waiting for. The first three, and the most important, were Zenith, Queen Lena Boudica, and Marvis Reckog. When they showed up, I organized a banquet from food supplies we brought with us to Antigua, and when I walked in to meet them, the atmosphere was… awkward.

“Welcome, lovers and friends,” I smirked.

Neither Marvis nor Lena approved. The first immediately went on a tirade about how I was shattering their agreement and throwing every single misogynistic word and statement in a translated 19th-century vocabulary at me—and countless more in three more languages. The latter had to suppress herself from murdering the man in my presence.

I didn’t serve alcohol with dinner. 

When only soul mana meat’s juices were left on the plates and the dinner rolls torn into pieces from Marvis’s violent fidgeting, I finally moved them to the Château de Servene’s war council chambers and sat them down. 

“Are you done bickering?” I asked them after staring at them for ten minutes in silence. Lena’s cheeks flushed with anger, and she opened her mouth to protest, but when she saw my damning smirk, she closed her mouth.

“Get on with it,” Marvis scoffed. “Let’s hear the meaning of this political nonsense.”

I turned to him and then Lena. “Our alliance states that I would help my allies gain Stelavine, Pyrothia’s, Himmelskune’s, and perhaps Celestium’s territories—in addition to claims in the Threnosia Forest—in exchange for the allied forces seizing the west to prevent King Bouchard’s forces from fleeing. I’ve seized Servene’s land and, with it, Himmelskune, which will soon be your territory. Since I never declared war on Vervain, if I establish an alliance with Queen Boudica, and she agrees to accept only my portion of the Threnoisa Forest, I’ll have completed my part of our alliance in full, in wildly more favorable conditions. I’ve also saved your life. If you keep implying that I’ve broken our alliance”—

My eyes narrowed dangerously.

—“I’ll take that as a sign you’ve broken our arrangement and act accordingly.”

Marvis’s arms developed goosebumps as he stared into my eyes.

A few seconds of silence passed before I could see that dissent had left his body. Marvis Reckog was a filter-less hothead. I wouldn’t hold that against him. However, it only went so far, and the gravity of that arrangement was sinking in.

Seeing no dissent, I looked to Lena. “Queen Boudica. I wish for your aid in extraditing Garfield Redfield in Desiderata. If you do that, I’ll give you my claims to the Threnosia Forest and farmland to compensate for your losses. You’ll prosper more than before.”

Lena eyed me suspiciously as Marvis’s eyes widened. “You want me to help you conquer another nation? That’s against your claims that you’d be attacking King Bouchard only. Naturally, that changes the nature of your business here and your trustworthiness.” 

I had only made a deal with Edikus to attack Servene when I came to this continent since it was an intercontinental issue. This changed everything.

“I only seek to extradite Garfield Redfield. He’s a Novenan and the Uncle of Princess Rema Redfield, who is with me. He’s here illegitimately, and the Wreaths understand that.”

“But I did not,” Marvis scoffed. “What other secrets have you withheld from me before we made an alliance?”

I glanced at him. He was being quite reasonable, but I didn’t have time for this endless back and forth. “The minute you disclose all your secrets and agenda, I’ll point out that you didn’t disclose them all.”

My message: asking a king what their intentions are is like asking a dog to explain their preferences on the weather in spoken language—it’s never going to happen. 

“I also want to know. What is your intention for Antigua?” Lena asked.

“I’m going to modernize it and conquer any non-ally that stands in the way of it,” I replied without hesitation.

“So you’re no different than the rest. We all think that the world would be best in our image.” Her eyes were laced with mockery and scorn.

“No, I’m not like the rest.” I pause to let anticipation burrow my words into her brain. “I have the weapons, knowledge, and foresight to make it happen.”

Lena and Marvis scoffed in unison. For once, they had something to agree about.

I raised an eyebrow and glanced at each of them. It was almost arrogant to see them act so brazenly when I toppled an impregnable city within hours of my arrival. “What?”

“Tell me, King Everwood,” Lena requested, her eyes sharpening like swords, “do you think that the Wreaths are the reason that no one leaves Antigua? That we’ve done so, despite centuries of technological improvements, because of a group of wizards?”

My heart hammered once, making me feel woozy. However, my cool expression betrayed my emotions. “It’s not?”

“Of course, it’s not!” Marvis sneered. “Are you deaf, blind, and dumb? How can your territory border King Elio’s and not know of him.”

I furrowed my brow, heart thudding in my chest. “King Elio likes to be left alone, and he leaves everyone else alone, in turn. I’m smart enough not to change that. Even though I’ve felt Emperor Kenani’s pressure, I’m less wary of him than King Elio. Judging by your faces, that was a wise decision. Judging by his inaction, it seems to be working well.”

I hadn’t met Emperor Kenani, but he was the most prominent of all the leaders I invited to watch Priest Aelius’s death. It was impossible to ignore his presence. It felt like normal citizens would collapse if they got near him. They probably did. He was also someone who was a titan in commerce. His capital, Kenrai, was on the far north of Antigua and was almost as prominent as Servene despite being in a far worse location. 

Despite that, I was far warier of King Elio, perhaps for irrational reasons. The main problem was that I knew little about Sunset Shore unless merchants told me about it—because I refused to look otherwise. I had an eerie feeling that a single spy in Duskwatch could rouse King Elio into action, and I wasn’t sure what would happen.

It wasn’t completely intuition. I could still remember in the marrow of my bones the moment that he prevented me from killing Edikus, the absolute confidence in which he did it. The way that Edikus and the Wreaths simply bowed to the man. The fact that they knew him well and he them. Whoever he was, he was strong and connected with the wrong people. So I didn’t provoke him. King Elio made me uneasy to my core.

“Well, I don’t know whether to paint you as a genius or a drunkard,” Marvis chuckled with insanity in his eyes, “but I will designate you as a fool. King Elio also has the power to rule this world, and despite being next to him, you were blissfully ignorant of such a critical fact.”

“Then why hasn’t he seized it?” I asked incredulously.

“For the same reason that all rulers become complacent—he got tired of fighting.”

“No, it’s because the man’s a depressed drunkard,” Marvis snorted, “and he started out that way. Like you, all he talks about is duty like a depressed parrot. I’m sure he’ll kill himself if we win this war your kind preaches about insistently. That, or the fool will outlast all of us to protect the Novenans out of ‘duty.’ The man’s a hypocritical leech.”

My eyes widened in disbelief. It can’t be…. The memories I witnessed in the labyrinth needed to come from someone alive. Edikus’s relationship with King Elio. The wide berth that everyone gives Novena. Everything pointed in one potential direction: King Elio was Marcus Aurelius. 

But aside from the man’s depression, there wasn’t anything else to support that claim intuitively. Marcus Aurelius was famous for his collective personal writings known as “Meditations,” which include his stoic philosophy. He believed in discipline, duty, and accepting fate. The Roman General preached the virtues of self-control and wrote about his efforts to strengthen his control over his passions and desires. 

Yet the King Elio people spoke of was a man who enjoyed a paradise beach on the edge of Novena, drinking away the days with his harem. Sure, he wasn’t a gangster drunkard like King Thrain with his wild party hot springs under Dragon’s Roost. Instead, he was the type of man who would spend most of the day living like Hunter S. Thompson in Puerto Rico, drinking away his life while depressed about his inaction and the inner despair he felt toward his life.

Unless King Elio was playing Novena for a fool and was scheming behind the scenes—something completely unlikely—there was no way for him to fake such a lifestyle. Everything lined up with his demeanor. He was genuine. So how?

No… there’s no way that he could be Marcus Aurelius. Then who?

It could be him or anyone. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I was suddenly uneasy about being away from the capital. That was irrational, given Sundell’s extraordinary defenses. Still, I felt betrayed by King Redfield, who sent me on a Goliath task for peace and left King Elio at my door. Or, perhaps, we were never safe, and King Redfield didn’t know the King Elio that the Antiguans knew. It wasn’t certain. I needed answers.

“What magic did he receive upon reincarnation?” I asked Lena.

Marvis laughed and put up his hand to block her speaking. “I’m sure a studious boy like you can figure it out once you learn the slightest thing about the continent you just stepped foot on,” he taunted with a sadistic smirk. “For now, let’s discuss this apparent alliance.”