![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Volume 8
Chapter 3: Birth of the Hero King
---
How much time had passed?
“……”
Luke wondered about the time as he killed his fellow humans and soldiers - people who were enemies on this battlefield. His body was covered with their blood.
Despite the heavy rain that’d started at some point, their battle didn’t stop. Blood continued to stain their clothes, and people continued to fall to the ground alongside the rain.
By now, his cover was completely blown and he was recognized as a member of the revolutionary army by everyone around him. But that didn’t really matter anymore. Nobody knew who was friend or foe anymore. It was an incomprehensible battle.
The revolutionary army had only been a few hundred from the outset, but it was impossible to tell how many were left now. The nobility was buying more troops to add to their armies, but many went turncoat and joined the revolutionary army instead, so the revolutionary army ended up bigger, too. So here they were, hanging on by a thread.
People were dying all around him, but the battle never got any closer to ending. Not even Luke knew what was happening now or how this would end.
He knew that Claugh’s words had reached their enemy— that was what started this friendly fire— but that alone didn’t explain how they’d managed to hang on for so long. And yes, Luke was doing everything in his power to keep their side alive, but…
“…It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Luke whispered as he looked up at the dark sky, pelting the battlefield in rain.
The weather was on their side. It kept their opponents from regrouping and strategizing. It kept them from knowing who was friend or foe.
It was almost as if the heavens had made the conscious choice to support the revolution. As if they decided that a revolution was to succeed here and now, even if one had never succeeded in the past.
“…Maybe that’s a little too idealistic,” Luke mumbled with a faint smile. He killed another soldier. He heard another scream calling him a monster. He heard someone yell to kill the monster before anyone else.
He’d done his best to make it this long, but he knew that he was reaching the limit of what he could accomplish. Everyone was targeting him. He dodged someone’s sword only to end up in the path of someone else’s knife. One that he probably couldn’t dodge.
“…Hmm… I really was being idealistic.” A smile that almost looked cheerful made its way to his otherwise emotionless face. Still, he moved quickly, doing his best instead of giving up. He jumped out of the way of lightning strikes, but that put him back in the path of the sword from a moment ago. It cut through the air, and Luke had no choice but to try to dodge again.
But the ground was wet with a mixture of rain and blood. Luke felt his foot slip as he tried to regain his ground.
“Ah…”
The sword stopped inside his shoulder. He tried to fend it off with both hands, but it slid through his flesh and into his chest.
They got him.
This was a serious wound. He lost.
“……”
Luke fell onto the bodies littering the ground silently. He couldn’t get up. He didn’t have the strength to do so.
But he’d done his best. Maybe it was a hopeless battle from the beginning, but he still did his best.
“……”
It was useless, wasn’t it?
What had he been expecting? What did he expect would happen on a battlefield like this? What was he expecting this country, rotten as it was, to do to the faint flame of a revolution?
He didn’t know anymore.
Claugh had yelled that he’d change it. Miller, too. And for some reason, Luke believed them. But—
“……”
Maybe Lear was right.
Maybe he should have taken a more active role. Maybe he should have helped them make a thorough, careful plan. Maybe he should have made sure they spent their time gathering as much information and as many soldiers as possible before moving forward.
Maybe his choice…
“…was wrong from the start.”
The rain stopped. The clouds lightened. But the sun didn’t shine down on their country.
People were dying. But that didn’t mean anything to this place. It was absolutely meaningless.
“My life is meaningless, too…”
The man who stabbed him raised his sword once more. He held it high above his head—
“Attention, all forces! This battle is over!”
A loud voice, clearly enhanced by magic, echoed across the battlefield. The man who’d tried to kill Luke turned his attention towards it. Luke raised his head to see, too.
That was Sion’s voice. Sion Astal’s. And it was close by.
The clouds opened, and a ray of sunshine made it look like he was glowing.
He was riding a white horse, and his silver hair flowed down across his obscenely expensive-looking robe. His strong will radiated from his golden eyes.
Though Luke didn’t know when he arrived, right here and right now, Sion Astal was on the battlefield.
Sion raised his hand slowly, then spoke. “Dying here is meaningless. Dying for the sake of useless nobles is meaningless. So stop throwing yourselves into death’s arms. Stop killing each other. Obey me!”
His appearance was sudden, and so were his words. Luke watched him with half-lidded eyes. Blood was leaking out of his stabbed chest, and his consciousness was fading. “Ha, haha… what’s this supposed to be? If words like that could change the world, nobody would have suffered in the first place.”
But it was enough to make the soldiers stop fighting to look up at Sion. They’d been fighting long enough to forget why they were doing it anyway, so when Sion pointed it out, they all stared up at him, expectant.
“I am Sion Astal. I was born from a union between our king and a common woman.”
Everyone here knew Sion’s name. He was the Hero Prince, beloved by common folk. But that was all they knew him as. Sion’s influence was nothing compared to the powerful princes who Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied supported.
“What’s the son of a dog like you doing, acting all haughty?” Someone yelled, most likely one of the noble’s men.
“He’s right! What can you do!? What the hell can you change?”
Sion didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked down upon the soldiers, glaring boldly. “I can’t do anything. I can’t change anything. But what about you? Starting a revolution? Crushing the revolution? What are you doing? Unlike you guys, I walk the correct path. The only orders I execute are the ones given to me by the king!”
Everyone tensed, understanding his words instantly. The man standing at the apex of their country—their dictator, their king— rarely spoke. Even so, every person in Roland feared him. They feared the rotten heart of Roland.
Everyone, regardless of who they were fighting for, froze in place.
Sion had drawn their attention away from what they were fighting for and reminded them of another issue.
Sion continued with a matter-of-fact tone before anyone could interrupt him. “The king gave me an order earlier today. He said that we were going to war. He said that we will invade our neighboring Imperial Nelpha, and delegated the war’s preparations to me, and if my campaign succeeds, he will recognize me as the next king of Roland!”
“……”
“So I ask again - what are you doing here? Who authorized Duke Abaaz and Marquis Tenglon to deplete our precious forces? Did the king allow them to do that!?”
The soldiers were silent. Without knowing what they should do, they were unable to do anything but stand in place, petrified from fear of retribution.
But a large-scale magic circle took form behind them. There were soldiers who were aware of the fact that the nobility ordered them, not the king, and those who didn’t believe Sion’s lies.
“…What will you do, Sion Astal?” Luke wondered as he watched the magic circle grow. “Nobody will entertain your bluffs and lies forever. So… so how will you make a miracle happen despite that…?”
He didn’t get to see it through. His consciousness faded fast, flowing away with the blood pouring from his wounds. He knew that he’d probably die here, just like the others. He knew that he’d become another body in their sea of blood.
“……”
He didn’t change anything. Maybe Sion would, but he didn’t really see how.
“……”
But… well. Maybe, somehow, possibly… his role had been to stand here and fight, maintaining the conflict just long enough for Sion to come here and create a miracle.
“…Then maybe… I did…”
Luke lost consciousness.
---
The magic circle grew, lightning swarming in the center.
Sion looked up at it slowly. How long did he have until it finished? Probably not enough time to convince everyone here and capture their hearts. It didn’t take too long to cast Lightning Bolt.
“…Lucile,” Sion whispered.
A voice responded. “Ah, is this where I come in?”
“Will you lend me your hand?”
“Of course. The more people who support you, the more power I can give you.”
“Then can I trust you to do this?” Sion asked.
“To do what?”
Sion grimaced. “The soldiers who are casting that large-scale magic…”
“Yeah?”
“…Kill them all.”
“Heh, hehehh…”
“……”
“Kill them, kill them all, slaughter them… right? You’ve become quite similar to the king, haven’t you? When should I do it? I’ll do it in the exact moment you request. Ah, I’m looking forward to it. I want to see your miracle, born in the midst of bloodshed. So that’s how you make a miracle.”
Sion ignored Lucile and spoke with the magic to make his voice echo across the battlefield. “Stop your attack. If you don’t, I will kill you all. I am acting on the king’s orders. Defying me is the same as defying this country, and you will be dealt with just as any other traitor.”
The growing Lightning Bolt didn’t fade. He was certain that the nobility behind it didn’t believe his claims.
That was natural, though. He was lying.
According to Miller, Duke Abaaz knew everything and was working on rectifying the situation even now. So there was a possibility that the soldiers behind this large-scale magic were acting on his orders after hearing Duke Abaaz’s explanation of the situation, including all of the flaws in Sion’s argument.
Sion needed a miracle now. It couldn’t wait. Duke Abaaz’s intel would reach the rest of the nobility sooner than later, and when it did, the stage for his miracle would collapse into nothing.
“Enough,” Sion said. “This battle is over, and the next battle is to start soon. Your actions now are nothing short of treason.”
If they’d just stop now, Sion wouldn’t have to order their deaths.
If they’d just stop now, he could walk the path of fewest sacrifices.
But they didn’t stop. Their spell only grew larger.
“……”
Sion steeled his resolve. No, he’d steeled it long ago. If he wasn’t prepared to do this, he’d only repeat his mistakes. He’d end up responsible for even more of his allies’ deaths. And… his hands were already covered in blood. Madness was already running through his veins. His existence wasn’t pretty. And yet…
“…Why am I worrying now, after everything I’ve already done?” Sion whispered to himself. He was about to steal many lives all at once. “Why am I scared?”
He laughed derisively at his own weakness.
“I’m not qualified to do this. I’ve never been able to protect anyone. I’ve never saved anyone. I’ve never had the power for it. I’ve never been prepared to do it. So why am I acting self-righteous now, worried about the morality of doing this? It’s fine. I have to move forward, even if it means falling into darkness. Even if it means that I will one day regret my actions. For now, this is something I have to do…”
Sion’s watery eyes narrowed. He slowly raised his hand, and spoke through magic, careful not to let his voice shake, careful to cover his fear with strength—
“I will kill every last one of you traitors! I will kill you all! Those who stand against Sion Astal, you will vanish from this world at once!”
He spread a hand in front of him. Lucile appeared there, between Sion and those who aimed to kill him, and lifted both hands. A captivating smile rose to his lips. “Hahah, hahahah..!”
Lucile dashed forward, and did something that a human couldn’t.
Hundreds - no, thousands - of heads separated from their bodies and flew into the sky, shooting brilliant red ribbons through the air, like spilled paint dying the world.
Everyone was mixed together, and it was impossible to tell who was friend or foe, so their allies must have died along with their enemies. Revolutionaries, nobles, and private army men all died.
It was death. Plain and simple, it was death, and nothing else.
It chased everyone on the battlefield down and violated their right to live. That path of death ran from directly in front of Sion straight through the battlefield and into the Lightning Bolt, causing it to disappear into nothing, its casters a mess of blood.
“……”
Nobody moved. Nobody could understand what just happened. It was all that the humans could do to stare up at Sion, faces matching blank-states of shock, and listen to his words.
“The king has ordered all who defy him to die, whether they’re common people, nobles, or foreigners. So stop this useless battle and your pointless struggles for power, and remember at once where you are and who you are. This is Roland, a land ruled by fear alone, and you are the ruled, not the rulers. Obey that fear of yours and submit to the king!”
The soldiers wore a uniform expression. One that Sion was very, very familiar with.
It was the expression that the people of Roland wore every single day.
Despair. Dread. Fear.
This country had always been dyed in the dark colors of those emotions.
Sion looked around.
He was surrounded by bodies, blood, and darkness. The soldiers had lost their will to fight, so this battle was coming to its end. The revolution was in shambles. But not just the revolution. The nobility’s greed had also been crushed… for the time being. Because everyone here just remembered what exactly they’d spent their lives being afraid of.
Everyone in this country had given up somewhere in the corner of their heart. They’d given up on change. Nobody could believe in it after everything they saw, day in and day out.
“……”
Even Sion had given up. Time and time again, he was shown that his goals were a losing battle. The truth was that he didn’t think there was any value in moving forward, no matter what path he took. He knew that he’d never be able to change anything, but he still screamed that he would as his friends, allies, and loves were all swallowed up by the darkness and killed.
“……”
The truth was that they were all already dead. Nothing was left inside of them. What they had been was already dead. Their blood flowed through dead veins and into their lonely hearts.
It was lonely. So, so lonely.
Even so, Sion faced the soldiers and spoke, a lone voice in a silent battlefield, fighting despite everything. “The king… told me to rule by fear.”
The soldiers stared up at him.
“I was given this power to do that,” Sion said. “That’s what that was just now. I was recognized as successor to the throne, so I was given the right to borrow the Eris family’s power.”
That too was a lie. But that didn’t matter at this point. The truth didn’t matter anymore. No… truth had never existed in Roland since the day it was founded.
“From this day on, you will obey me,” Sion said. “I’ve obtained the power of the king, so you must obey. From this day on, we will destroy Imperial Nelpha. We will imprison Nelphans within their own fear, and once we’ve finished them, we will move to the next country! Fear will never end. Fear will continue for all eternity!”
He knew that everyone below him was grimacing. Of course they were.
Nobody wanted to hear what he was telling them. That’s why it was something Roland itself wanted desperately. Its favorite pastime was to kill. Its favorite thing was meaningless power.
The people screamed and cried. They were sick and tired of this. They were sick and tired of this world.
They screamed and screamed, but it never ended. That was how Roland was. How it had always been.
“But… I think differently from the king!” Sion said.
Everyone’s eyes focused on Sion.
“I… hate watching people die meaninglessly. I hate seeing the fear in everyone’s eyes. I, more than anyone, am sick of seeing the king rule this country by fear. What are we fighting for!? What are we afraid of!? Enough!! I’m so, so sick of it!! We’re not toys! We don’t exist for the king, for Roland itself to play with us and throw us away when they’re bored!!”
Thousands of eyes, wide with shock, stared up at him. Because people who betrayed the king couldn’t exist in Roland. They wouldn’t be forgiven, no matter what.
But Sion continued anyway. “I, Sion Astal, received orders directly from the king and was granted the power of the Eris Family! The first thing I want to do with that power is to dethrone the king! That alone is what I gained this power to do!”
That too was a lie. Because he didn’t have any power at all.
Still, he shouted at the top of his lungs. “So obey me! If you want to change anything, obey me!!” He yelled to the point that it pained his throat. “If you don’t want to live in fear of your family being murdered, if you don’t want to see your friends die, if you don’t want to be scared of this incomprehensible world any longer, then obey me! I’m not asking for a miracle! It won’t take a miracle! If you all follow me, then it’s something we can really do!”
Sion held his hand out.
“If you want to change this world, then follow me! I’ll make a new Roland Empire, the Roland you’ve always wished for!”
The soldiers stood quiet. He didn’t let it bother him.
“…That’s all I wanted to say,” Sion said. “Those who object are free to kill me. And if I don’t die now—”
Sion smiled sweetly.
“— then I consider every one of you my ally.”
That was all he had to say. He tugged lightly on the reins, and the horse slowly trotted towards the military headquarters, towards the place where soldiers had tried to attack him with large-scale magic earlier.
“……”
Nobody attacked him now. Everyone was in a state of shock.
The only sound was a faint voice next to his ear.
“Heh, heheh, amazing. You kill so many of them, then immediately pledge to protect them all? Are you really in any position to say that?”
“…Indeed,” Sion said with a self-deprecating smile.
“But you weren’t wrong. Your power is getting much, much stronger.”
“……”
“You overwhelm them with fear, remind them of the king’s tyranny, then act like you’re going to save them from it. Your methods are impressively disgusting, but those who believe in you have drastically increased.”
“…It’s thanks to Miller,” Sion said. “Because he made everyone aware of me in preparation for today, I was able to stand in a place where these people could see me as king.”
He’d left the most important parts of today to Miller.
Miller was the one who spread his name across Roland. Miller was the one who gathered so many humans on this battlefield so that Sion could scream his heart out to them.
It was foolish to leave everything to Miller. What could he change with his life in someone else’s hands? Yet he did it. He offered his life to Miller, which brought him here.
“That’s right,” Lucile said. “Miller or whatever his name was did his best, but failed to get results. Nobody truly believed that he would change anything. But your speech just now changed the direction of the wind, even if only a little.”
“…Hm. So you think I have a chance now?”
Lucile appeared next to his horse, looked up at the sky, moved his head around as if to confirm something, then stretched his arms, pleased. “No, you’ll probably end up king. You managed to make a miracle. Your speech just now was a declaration of the one-on-one battle between you and the king. Your siblings have dropped out of the race, and the nobles aren’t qualified to enter. And the king who you need to defeat…”
“…Doesn’t have the motivation to fight in the first place?”
“Yes… well, he’s become quite weak. His death draws near.”
Sion looked down at Lucile. “Huh? So there was no point in me doing all th—”
Lucile turned his head towards Sion and smirked. “No. He can’t die if there’s no one to replace him. So I’ve kept him alive even though he should have been dying. The curse forces him to live even though he’s really dead. The truth is that it’s been like this for the past three years.”
“……”
Having arrived at the headquarters, Sion got off his horse. Several soldiers approached him with tears in their eyes.
“I-I was so moved!”
“No matter what happens to Roland or the world from now on, I’ll always follow you, Lord Astal!”
“…What happened to Claugh and Luke?” Sion asked.
“Claugh is upstairs,” one soldier answered. “But this ‘Luke’ you speak of…”
“You don’t know him?”
“I apologize.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Sion entered the headquarters. Though there wasn’t much to ‘enter’ anymore. Massive holes made by magic had made rubble of many walls, and the roof had collapsed on top of much of it.
Soldiers called out to him one after another.
They said that Sion was like a dream come true.
They said that they wanted Sion to rule as their king.
They said that they wanted Roland to change.
About half of them had been Miller’s men, and the other half were soldiers who joined after pinning their hopes and dreams on the future Sion could bring them—
For some reason, Lucile spoke just then.
“Huh? Sion.”
“Hm?”
“You just became king.”
“What?”
“He died. The king. Your father. Of old age.”
“Wh—!?”
Sion turned around in shock.
Of course, Lucile was standing there, smirking like he was having too much fun with this. “This country’s… the curse surrounding this country just decided to take a new sacrifice, see. You. Congratulations, my king. Congratulations, king.”
Lucile patted Sion’s shoulders softly, then disappeared.
It was so ridiculously sudden - anticlimactic at best.
Miller, Claugh, and Luke had been hard at work for years trying to make their dream of changing this rotten country come true, but that wish was granted in mere seconds.
It was granted so quickly, so easily, that Sion couldn’t help but feel like the pain, suffering, and dying that led up to it was for nothing. Like everything that Ryner, Kiefer, Tyle, Tony, and Fahle did was for nothing.
“…Unbelievable,” Sion whispered. He stood in a daze. “Th, then I’m this country’s…”
“King,” Lucile whispered into his ear.
“Then… this country is as good as changed? It’s different from before? It’s a place where nobody will have to cry—”
“No, nothing’s changed,” Lucile said. “Nothing’s changed in the slightest.”
“……”
“Because you’re nothing but a gear in the machine. You’re new, but you’re still just a gear, replacing one that was exactly the same, if not for its rust.”
“……”
“By the way, your father was a pure king who worried about his country back when he took the throne, too.”
“……”
“But he’s dead now. You made a miracle and captured the heart of many humans, which you now carry on cursed shoulders. So he died.”
“……”
“In other words, nothing’s changed. The people change and the gears change… and the story starts a little different. But the cause of this country’s madness remains the same.”
“You’re wrong,” Sion said. “I’ll change it.”
“Haha. Your father said the same thing.”
“I will change this country.”
“He said the same thing before he broke.”
“I won’t break. I can say with certainty that I will ch—”
“Hah, hahaha, hahahahah, then I’ll wish for the same thing. Because standing idly by someone who has completely lost it is really, really boring.”
Lucile left. Now the only people around were his allies who had put their lives at stake for the sake of the revolution. They lifted Sion up, tears in their eyes, and yelled that he’d change their country, no, change the world. That their power could do something, anything, to take some of the despair out of the world, so they’d do their best.
Even though Sion becoming the king wouldn’t change a single thing. They’d remain at the bottom of their sea of despair whether Sion took the throne or not.
“……”
Sion forced a smile so that everyone could see it and feel at ease.
He, Sion Astal, took the worst curse in the world, and became king of Roland.
---
