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Tale of Two Kings (FSN Medieval SI)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by JBukharin, Feb 23, 2020.

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  1. Threadmarks: Prologue: Why are you looking at me like that?
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Prologue: Why are you looking at me like that?


    Coming from a lazy potato couch that was urged to try and experience this kind of stuff, I have to admit that I was surprised of what I was looking at while enjoying a pleasant walk through the beautiful lands that surrounded several cities all around England.


    Not only was I having a relaxing moment alone and away from any nagging individuals, but I was also awed by how this natural heaven I was exploring looked to be something truly astonishing to visit thanks to this trip here in Great Britain.


    It was a perfect example of how there was still restrain among humans to not destroy everything that is green or originally natural, the purity of the planet preserved… for now as people could, like me, enjoy the bountiful aspect of Earth.


    You would ask 'Why are you starting this tale with this boring set up and not straight into the action?' and I frankly can't think of a reason myself why.


    Maybe it just felt nice to begin with a little and peaceful scenario to better introduce to my cast of spectators the incredible adventure that awaited me, the great journey that was just mere moments to come crash down onto my unsuspecting head.


    Anyway, talking about all this gibberish was starting to remind me the horrible torture my feet had been suffering months ago because of the aimless wandering and of the never-ending feeling that I was being spied upon while I tried to 'enjoy' this wonderful place away from civilization.


    Still, interestingly enough, some absurd madness happened mere moments after this peaceful instants.


    For a moment, I was begging all deities that existed in this world to give me some relief in the form of a pleasant glade where to rest, while hopefully avoid any unpleasant encounters, and then I felt myself falling toward the grounds.


    You might think 'Oh! Is that some magical deus ex machina to get yourself in something epic?'.


    Wrong! Nada!


    A traitorous root coming from one of the many identical tree near to where I was had willingly tripped my poor, sore right foot and caused my entire body to painfully trip on the ground.


    Muttering some not-so-holy words to the tree that caused the whole debacle, insulting its ancestors, its ancestors’ ancestors and his ancestors’ cow, I finally noticed a curious issue that I had made just a few minutes earlier.


    A good explorer should never forget where he came from while going for this kind of aimless walks deep in the woods.


    Sadly, the dumb dude that’s me wasn’t a good explorer and in my shenanigans I might have forgotten where I should go to make my way back civilization.


    Several mood swings happening in a solid ten minutes, from anger to regret, from insanity to serious self-bantering about the intentions behind this unplanned excursion.


    To be fair, maybe I should have expected to find myself in this kind of situation, especially when I vehemently refused some crazy-looking guide’s attempt to guide me around during this solo trip.


    I mean, after seeing some scary horror movies, I can’t help but feel rather uneasy at having some permanently wide-eyed fellow with some insane-looking big smile plastered on his face.


    Hopefully the one that was spying on me was this pseudo-murderer, that it was just my consciousness trying to make things ‘scarier’ for the sake of… something.





    I don’t know anymore what to say at this point, what about we move straight into the mind of mine?


    Who knows, maybe I was calmly thinking about the possibilities I had, experimenting my chances to make a safe return home and-


    "Why God? Why did you leave me?!"


    Jeez, sure I was truly looking useless back then. I remember trying everything possible by the circumstances to solve my big and unavoidable issue.


    "Phone, don't betray me!" I barked at the device I was holding in my hands.


    *Low Battery and no connection*


    "Dangit!" I furiously holstered it back in one of my pants’ pocket.


    Once all of my chances of survival were expired, those that were supposed to see me make a safe return home, in my exhausted state of mind, I started to contemplate how to survive in such hostile habitat.


    "As Bear Grylls says, first we need a source of water. And I'm certainly not going for his Plan B."


    Thus, after walking for several hours deeper in that unknown forest while trying to find some source of water, I found it eventually together with a temporary refuge in the form of a cave nearby.


    Until I was able to return to a village or a town and get out of that green hell, I wasn’t going to sleep outside where animals could have exploited my weak, sleeping state.


    "Please Jesus, let this cave be empty and void of any possible ferocious animal and serial killers."


    Slowly, I ventured inside the cave with a careful but tensely slow pace and by the very moment that I made my first step inside, I make I felt like in one of those fantasy movies.


    Not only was it spacious, but it had some curious pictures painted by Gods’ know who as I was fairly sure that any-cave with this kind of stuff would have been found by some archeologist and properly secured it considering how close it was to a major city.


    Ignoring the already ominous note of this encounter, I found myself intrigued by the pictures themselves, or rather by the unique figures displayed by those.


    Some were representing humans, others animals... and dragons… and scary demonic monsters?


    "Is this cave the cove of some Lord of the Rings cult or what?" I found myself muttering to myself, knowing by now that there was no one here to cause me any trouble.


    There was no noises that could make it seem like there was any animal lurking around, nothing dangerous at least.


    Still, the odd painted figures left me with a certain uneasy vibe over what was going on but I still walked even further in the dark place until I noticed something else.


    Something that was providing some shiny light and some mystical hue to the whole place.


    Something that solved my grand problem… at least until I was back to civilization


    "Oh... SHINY WATER! FINALLY!"


    To make it clear, my state of mind was already influenced by the fact I had skipped breakfast that day, I had forgotten to bring some water bottle or any snacks to keep me energized and… not prone to go this mad.


    But just as I paced quickly towards the body of water, the unthinkable happened again-


    "Oh No! Not Again! Goddammit, you painful son of a-"


    I tripped again. I fucking tripped again and this time on some blasted rock, right into the small glowing light-blue lake in front of me.


    "-tch!"


    Falling again face first to the floor caused my brain to almost shut down completely. My mind was unable to understand why the floor felt different as it was neither water, nor it was the sturdy stone of the cave.


    My hands were testing the texture while I tried to recover from this fall and I noticed that the floor was made by... wood?


    Then other details started to slowly add up at my ‘something is wrong’ brain folder, as I felt a sudden source of heat warming my body and I was quick to also notice that I wasn’t alone anymore in that…


    This isn’t the cave.


    My eyes adjusted to the dim light of the candles around this ‘house’ and I stared at the small group of people now looking at me.


    ...Where do they come from? H-How did I get in there?!


    Like seriously, did I just get kidnapped? Is this the cult I was half-jokingly thinking owned the cave- Was I the sacrifice to some demonic God?


    Hail Stalin!


    The odd thing about this new and insane development was that they were all standing around me their eyes showing surprise and... happiness, as if my arrival had been half-planned but needed.


    I ain’t Batman, tho.


    The unnerving silence was interrupted by something I was certainly not expecting, a proclamation that left me even more stomped, confused and immensely frowning at the matter.


    "T-The Ritual was a success!” Some old man donning quite the ‘I am a wizard’ fashion exclaimed to the rest of the spectators. “We got the King that was promised to us, the one that shall head us against the Germanic invaders!"


    The old man that gave this strange speech looked incredibly sure of what he had just said and the others started to murmur to each other, looking as if they had been aware of whatever madness he was sprouting about.


    As the greatest of the heroes to come in this dark age, I started my reign with the most logical reaction to this kind of predicaments. Something that couldn’t exactly be considered


    "Now that you are here, Your Majesty, you might need to- Y-Your Majesty!!"


    Facing the possibility of being in an even more hostile habitat because of weird circumstances and the sudden transportation, my brain decided to launch the operation 'Tactical Faint' and I went for some immediate rest, away from the crazies and the insane ones.


    Maybe this was actually a dream, thus the sudden faint to dismiss this absurd scene…


    But boy was I wrong. From there my real adventure in quite the familiar but so-different world begins.


    --------------------------------


    AN


    Settings: FSN Medieval Age, Self-Insert, lots of tactical madness and some focus on magic-technology.


    I still remember when I first started to write the first draft of this story. I had been so nervous and so uneasy about trying my hand at this, especially with the rogue days I was dealing with.


    But now that I’m more accustomed to writing lengthier chapter, I can say for sure that one of my minor priorities is coming true.


    After some heavy pondering, I’m indeed thinking of going for some rewriting for some of my older stories.


    Tale of Two Kings’, the original draft in FF, will be the first one to enjoy some improvement and expansion.


    Next is ‘Zero Chances to Heaven’, which I plan to give some more accurate tones to not make the MC sounds so Gary-Stueish (I really wasn’t minding those details back then, what an embarrassing flaw of mine!).


    Finally I think I will work on ‘Aegean Holidays’ to make it a little more… realistically-paced. Some of the readers of the story might think that I’m thinking of a complete rework, but I only plan to bring some grammar polishing, some expansion of the chapters and maybe some more chapters in between those already available.


    Also lots of omakes. FGO is still a focus for those mini-stories.


    Without further ado, I will say that this story will replace ‘Aegean Holidays’ until we reach the conclusion of both this and Zero Chances to Heaven. I know, it’s a long time, but it is a certain time. No more avoiding the problem, I shall strike to make it a better story, for loyal readers!
     
  2. MasterOfDragonsGod

    MasterOfDragonsGod Connoisseur.

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    Seems interesting watched.
     
    RazielofSecrets and JBukharin like this.
  3. Threadmarks: Chapter 1: To be a King (1)
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Chapter 1: To be a King (1)


    After being dragged to deal with quite the interesting dream about killer robots and femme fatales, I started to slowly wake up, refreshed and all from what seemed to have been one of the longest slumbers I’ve ever had to deal with.


    As my eyes opened at the annoying sunlight reaching from the windows by the room’s left side, the first thing I ended up noticing in what was supposed to be my bedroom… was the distinct lack of my alarm clock and the comics I had started to hoard and keep by the empty section of my bedside.


    Actually, there was no bedside to begin with, only some wooden furniture that barely resembled it.


    My eyes closed again, I took a deep breath as I tried to recollect the few hours before engaging in a deep nap, my brain burning for the sake of getting some proper answers to what had been quite the odd awakening.


    But while I had been initially interested in getting all the facts straight, the more memories returned the more I felt myself pale at the slow realization that something had indeed happened.


    Oh my God, I am the victim of a kidnapping of the dimensional kind!


    This presumptuous claim wasn’t born out of delusional panic induced by this incredibly ‘old-style’ room where I just woke up into, but rather it was something that started to become more and more concrete the more I studied the pre-nap case.


    There had been people, men and women all donning robes and dresses that were so antiquate that not those weren’t even worth of wearing even by those loving the old medieval style.


    I mean, how many could seriously love having clothes with some of the most unpleasant kind of fabrics in this time period?


    Not many sane individuals- and that is why, considering the fact that there had been this mystical old man that had so happily pleaded guilty of committing such kidnapping of the absurd kind for-


    Saving a kingdom… from Germanic Invaders.


    A kingdom that was close to fall to this kind of threat- where I was currently being hold onto.


    I should be panicking, I should be hyperventilating and trying to get out of there before serious war crimes happened in my general proximity.


    There was no Geneva Convention!


    Yep, stuff had indeed escalated from a mere walk to a ‘Jesus Christ, take the wheel!’ kind of issue.


    And worst thing possible? I was mostly unsure of what to do.


    Running away? I would have to deal with the slim chances of being a ‘low-born’ wandering around in bandits-filled lands and some other crazies lurking the woods.


    Staying? Was this even a choice to begin with if it was the only viable option for me to pick.


    My hands reached for my face and I let out the greatest of groans before I settled down and started to slowly rationalize everything.


    First thing first, I was alive and… considered something of a nobility until I kept within… here.


    What is ‘here’ and where it was specifically?


    England was massive, but if I have to take a wild hunch, I would say that we are by the Wessex Region, the area which suffered the most the Germanic Invasions.


    With my brain finally picking up the pace after the few moments of horrible panicking, I began analyzing the room I had just woke up into once again and I started to take note of the various elements present there.


    The pieces of wood were a stark contrast to the entire stone-like structure this room was built with and it was quite the proof that I was in some-sort of luxury room within this castle.


    This building- it had to be a castle. There was no way for any medieval civilization to create this kind of massive room if it wasn’t installed in a castle.


    Okay, I was making progress. Little progress, but enough to drive me to consider what I should do right now.


    I was still clothed with my old stuff, nothing had been touched, except for the bag that was now sitting by the edge of the big bed in which I woke up into.


    My first intention was pretty legitimate as I started to rapidly make a list of what I had in there.


    Considering that I had planned for a little excursion, I was grimacing at how little I had on me.


    My phone charger was useless, it wasn’t any of the solar-powered ones that were starting to make an appearance to the market and I certainly didn’t felt a need to buy one of those for the sake of a simple trip in the woods.


    There were some toasts with ham and mayo, nothing that was meant to consume this early in the morning, and I could see that my water bottle was half-full, about 75% filled with some mineral water.


    Pity that I hadn’t packed Pepsi-


    Oh God, there is no Pepsi in medieval times!!


    Groaning again and mourning the loss of what made me the most excellente Soda Fiend, I decided to drown my sorrow in what looked to be a little booklet that I had picked up from one of the various stores I had visited during my visit in some random villages nearby London.


    Something that was written for tourists and thus lacked any of the ‘boring’ but now incredibly important information that I really needed to make use of if I wanted to survive this invasion.


    But then again, am I in the wrong side of History right now?


    Considering that I had to fully stop the invasions of the Germanic Invasions, thus repel the Angle and the Saxons (which would then become the backbone of the culture before the consolidation of the English tradition), maybe also the Jutes and other pseudo-vikings trying to raze and pillage cities left and right.


    Morality would want me to stand aside and let this black mark in human history unfold but…


    Since when morality beats sense of self-preservation?


    I wasn’t certainly going to give up my survival just because I didn’t want to manipulate history- but then again why wouldn’t I want to change stuff for good?


    Butterfly effect aside, a massive and dangerous thing to do if I thought of the ramifications my actions might create after around a thousand years from now, I needed to seriously plan out something and-


    My mind paused abruptly right as I caught some knocking originating from the lone door of the room.


    Eyes turning to glance at it, I had just enough time to get up from the bed before replying.


    “C-Come in.”


    Of course I would be stuttering, I chided myself with an inner face-palm.


    The door opened to reveal the very elder that had been responsible for my current whereabouts, the old fossil looking fairly tired but nonetheless happy to see me well and healthy.


    Donning some light-gray robes with hood included and wielding some long staff that arched with a light-blue sphere on top of it, I was half-tempted to address him as Gandalf, but I was quite surprised to find out that the first guy I had to receive was the one that caused my current presence here in this disastrous scenario.


    I blinked and this little moment of silence from my part was taken as some permission to speak.


    “I see that you are finally awake, milord,” He greeted with a slow nod of his head, his smile widening just a little as he took a few steps towards me and then he stopped. “Good to see that you have recovered from that sudden faint, we thought that-”


    I held my hands up as to gesture him to stop for a moment. “Quick question, shouldn’t you be introducing yourself?” I asked with an unsure tone. “I mean, I would like to know who I’m talking with as… from my understanding there is this massive issue in the form of some invasion-”


    “O-Oh,” He seemed mortified by the point I was bringing up and he… tried to slowly kneel before me, forcing me to gesture nervously at that.


    “Look there is no need to kneel or anything like that, there is no mistake in being forgetful once or twice in a while,” I spoke once more, drawing some more surprise from the elder.


    Said surprise morphed in awe as the gray-bearded man gave a quick nod.


    “U-Understood, milord,” He said with a brief hint of shock. “My name is Altuos and I’m the Chief of the Magus Guild here in Londinium.”


    He gave another bow with his head, yet my attention was drawn away from his name, which didn’t ring any major bells in my head, but the two other elements did highlight two important bits.


    Starting from the detail that I was most aware of, I could say that the situation is actually bad but not as worse as I had expected it to be for numerous reasons.


    Londinium was the name of the old settlement before the conception of the proper city of London, it was an urban area that still flaunted some strong fortifications from the former Roman castrum which was fairly advanced compared to some of the early medieval complexes.


    The big issue? Depending on the century I was yanked into, this city was either starting its decline or already hemorrhaging people, resources and capable soldiers because of the growing troubles rising on the island.


    So, instead of playing the long guessing game, I decided.


    “Altuos, I know it might sounds… curious to ask, but can you please remind me which year of the Lord are we living?”


    He blinked, his surprise resurfacing but less than before as he merely gave a quick answer.


    “It’s the Year 453 of Our Lord, your majesty,” The elder announced with a solemn voice, which I replied with a quiet hum as I found myself drawn back to my mind as-


    I AM FUCKED!


    The Fifth Century was supposed to be the period where Londinium would first be abandoned by its first settlers, either slaughtered by the now-approaching Germanic troops or forced to leave the city before the major battle would occur.


    I restrained myself to let out a major swear word as I felt my brain trying to remind me something important.


    This is like Crusader Kings 2, except instead of having to develop my military technology to develop tactics that could or not influence the battlefield, I was beginning with all the kind of proper strategies that could work in this Era.


    Was I thinking of having an invincible army? Not yet, but I had plenty of opportunities if I knew a little more about the current state of the troops I had at my disposal.


    But since I was perfectly aware that I would have just a handful of barely-trained peasants with some hunters in between their ranks, I was quite sure that ‘fair battles’ weren’t going to do anything good for me.


    I glanced at the elder and then I nodded. “So, I suppose that there is someone in command of the local troops and that this person might be needing my lead since we have an imminent invasion coming by.”


    “Commander Marcus Ambrosius is currently planning how to deal with the scout parties of the main force marching towards us,” He mentioned as he starting to lead me out of the room and I walked beside him. “He will give you a better insight over the proper situation… I’m not much prepared in detailing the various elements that are required by this particular subject.”


    “Interesting and thank you for the exhaustive explanation, Altuos,” I complimented kindly before actually shifting my attention to the second issue that I was completely caught me off-guard. “By the way, what is a ‘Magus’ and what does your guild specialize in?”


    ---------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d--------


    Magic exists- No, something similar to magic exists.


    While magic itself was still a variable within the world, the most common predicament was what many had described as magecraft.


    To say that I was immensely confused when my history mindset was shattered by the introduction of supernatural elements would be a massive understatement.


    Altuos was blissfully unaware of the thoughts I was having over this kind of crazy subjects, which for some reason did make some sense when he started to apply some of the examples proposed by his guild.


    Magecraft was a mix of magic and science, but it was strictly attached to the application of simple rational laws which weren’t truly known to the folks studying in this era.


    Many still confused it with real magic as it did create some awe-striking phenomenon that many were incapable of replicating via mundane means… or at least until someone decides to bring in some modern science.


    And yes, it would be incredibly fascinating if said ‘someone’ bore my own name and had the same inner smug smirk that I had at the thought that there was something like magic- similar to magic.


    Drat, I had to get a gist over the true meaning of magecraft before I begin making some silly assumptions with the wrong people.


    The walk to reach the local barracks gave me a full glimpse of what I was supposed to the defend, with some peasants having already taken refuge within the little city inside the protective walls offered by the former Roman Castrum.


    There were some children rushing by the sides of the main to look at the new king while I was following the old ‘wizard’ right to where the commander of the garrison had set up his tent and was currently planning everything about the defence.


    I merely glanced at them, feeling fairly unsure over the immense pressure I had to face as there were other people that were stopping along the way to kneel, to bow, to show respect and… their willingness to put forward their hopes to me.


    I had to put some effort to hold myself from flinching at what looked to be a parade of sort when I was actually visiting where the military planning was happening.


    The only moment of relief from this unpleasant circumstance was right when I encountered the one man leading the little army that was supposed to defend the city.


    Marcus Ambrosius was donning was seemed to be a mix of Celtic and Roman armor, several elements drawing mostly from the latter but I could also see some green decorations giving more details to his equipment.


    Wait, does that mean that I had been talking with people in Celtic or in Latin?


    The blond-haired man was looking at what looked to be a very old map, the best that this era could afford in terms of military planning and I was given another taste of how things were going to be from now on. He didn’t seem too old, but he did look to have quite the experience from the highly-inquisitive glance he was giving me.


    He was studying me from the very moment that I stepped inside his tent, giving me a certain sense of discomfort at being at someone clearly battle-hardened.


    “Commander Marcus Ambrosius,” The old man greeted with a polite tone, getting a nod in return from the soldier.


    “Chief Altuos, I see that you have brought to me our new king.”


    Fuck, he is already trying to test me? I guess I should have expected this because of the issue at hand.


    “You may refer to me when speaking, I’m not some shadow,” I pointed out with a stern tone, holding back some edge from making it appear that I was trying to antagonize him.


    “Yet you appear from some unknown places since you weren’t there until yesterday,” He shot back with a certain rough voice. “But please, do tell me what do you think-”


    “There is a horde of monsters preparing to assault us, that there is for now a small group of scouts taking notes over the area where the fight is going to happen, the state of the walls and… the prospect of gains in the raids that would ensue in our possible loss,” I interjected with a cynical perspective. “We are dealing with people that are driven by gold and lust of sin, people that can barely resemble civil human beings with what they are trying to achieve with such a mindset.”


    He seemed intrigued by my lengthy comment. “Sounds like you are aware of what these real barbarians are, kingly!”


    “That shouldn’t be a question, Commander,” I dismissed with a sigh, trying my best to keep up with the battle of minds. Thank God that he wasn’t getting more physical about this. “But I think we should direct our attentions to the issue itself, the scouts need to die before they can make a safe journey back to their tribes.”


    “And happily enrage our arrogant foes?” He asked with a hint of irritation, something I had predicted by the very blunt attempt I wanted to execute.


    “No,” I replied more than happily. “I want to blind them and reduce their chances in gaining some advantage in fighting against our troops.”


    I turned my attention to the map and I circled around right where the little drawings of trees were.


    “We have forests, we have uneven terrain that our soldiers are experienced to wander around and maneuver properly,” I continued to explain, this time imagining what could have driven the Germanic tribes to assemble this little recon party. “They know this and they had to recruit some of the disgruntled men living here to aid some of their veteran spotters in tracking down every single flaw in our city’s fortifications.”


    “But wouldn’t attacking their group cause our current garrison to weaken even more?” Altuos commented with some fascination over the matter.


    “It would be the case- yet I suspect kingly has already a solution to this.” The military-man snorted while shaking his head.


    “C-Commander, have at least some respect for King-”


    “Altuos, it’s fine,” I intervened quickly, turning my attention right at the blond. “I don’t want to send just a number of people, I want to send only those that have experience in tracking and hunting animals.”


    “B-But why?” The elder questioned with some confusion over my logic, to which I gave a grave sigh about.


    “When you assemble these man, Commander, I want you to tell them about the horrors that will occur if they fail to accomplish a perfect victory,” I spoke with a quiet tone while referring to the soldier. “I want you to spare not a single restraint in detailing the atrocities that will happen the moment we lose even part of our lands to them, what will happen to their families, to their homes and… to their children.”


    There was a pause, then the blond smiled. “You wish them to truly hate the gutters of those filthy animals, don’t you?”


    “M-Milord, I don’t understand what would you gain by giving such a terrifying recounting to the men defending this city when-”


    “We are outnumbered, we have less than half that what the invaders can muster and we can’t play ‘fair’ with them,” I interrupted with a dismayed sigh. “While I understand your concern over the devious nature of this endeavor, I wish to also remind you that we can’t just allow any reprieve to our aggressors. The moment they believe that we are vulnerable will be the moment were everything will be lost.”


    Another pause, this one longer than before as the old man seemed ot think about this while the blond merely hum.


    “I hope there is more about that, we can’t just play some minor ambushes and hope to destroy them little by little.”


    I shook my head. “I have some ideas, but for now we will focus on dealing with the recon units.”


    “I see,” The commander nodded at my cryptic tone. “I will have the proper group sent before nightfall to intercept the scouts before they get too close.”


    I nodded back and decided that this was enough for now, saluting Marcus as I started to retreat with Altuos on tow.


    There was some silence on the way back to the castle section, just enough for me to find myself away from the various witnesses in the forms of worried nobles and patrolling ward so that I could-


    “This is… incredibly complicated,” I commented while taking a pause by leaning by one of the walls, glancing at the quiet ‘wizard’. “Do you think I was too excessive with these orders?”


    The elder frowned at my words and I explained a little more.


    “I wish to hear a proper judgment of what I did was correct or-”


    “Considering the instance we are facing, I wouldn’t lament too much that you wish for this kingdom to survive… but I hope that this isn’t the sign of a tyrant in the making when some peace will reach our lands.”


    Oddly enough, I had expected this genuine chiding but I nodded.


    “I’m taking some drastic precautions for the unfair situation we are facing,” I muttered quietly. “Hopefully, things will stabilize soon enough to allow to repel the tribes from the beaches.”


    “It’s our best hope,” Altuos agreed with a small sigh, before giving me a long but deep look as if trying to understand… something about my face? No, it was… something else.


    But what could have gotten his attention when-


    “Milord, I think it would be good for you if you weren’t to deal with the court, at least not in this state of mind,” He suddenly suggested, catching my curiosity almost immediately. “I think it would be best if you spent some time thinking by the gardens, I will see to delay the encounter with the various guilds’ representations for just a single day.”


    I was… surprised by this suggestion.


    I had expected to face the royal court quite soon, especially with how much of an impact the invasion was surely slamming onto the various activities and works of this age and time, but to be offered some more time to think?


    Maybe… it wouldn’t be wrong for me to take some moments to taken in the fact I had just given my first serious orders as a monarch.


    This was my first step, a bloody one to be truthful, but not one born from malicious intent.


    Hopefully.


    “I think I will accept this kind offer, Altuos.”


    “It’s not kindness when your highness truly needs some proper time to recover with quite the important decision,” He commented almost quickly. “And before you doubt yourself further, I can assure you that this unorthodox thought of yours isn’t as harsh as you might expect it… considering the unpleasant alternative we currently have.”


    I nodded and, after some time enjoying the inner courtyard and the small garden installed in it, I managed to get some rest by the time the final report reached back home.


    A quick letter, but one that portrayed a great success as the enemy force had been slaughtered by the punitive expedition… in quite the vengeful manners.


    There had been no mercy, just like I had expected for those hunters to accomplish when pitted against the ugly face of the reality we were going to suffer rather soon.


    I found some peace in my slumber, but I did found myself questioning the chances of the success behind this major campaign.


    And so the first step for King Joseph’s reign has been made… a bloody one for sure, but one that will pale before the future prophesied for such a doubtful ruler.


    ------------d-d-d-d----------------d-d-d-d-------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d--------


    AN


    All hail King… Jojo? Nonononono! We can’t have that. I’ve already two JoJo stories out and the name is actually conceived before I had the glorious opportunity to watch the series. I remember throwing the first name that came to my mind and… I went along with it.


    And yes, this chapter highlights how much things are going to change compared to the first draft. Nothing will be too easy, every decision has a backlash of sort in the form of either losing men, resources or displaying dark parts of the MC’s mindset.


    Morality against Logic.


    Lastly, the first lines of the chapter are actually a curious hint to another story that I would end up writing after concluding this one. I think some might recognize it for two specific words.
     
  4. Grimmouse197

    Grimmouse197 I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Keep in mind in the FSN universe humans were naturally stronger in the past
     
  5. Threadmarks: Chapter 2: To be a King (2)
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Chapter 2: To be a King (2)


    When morning struck again and I was greeted once more with the sight of my ‘new bedroom’, my lips parted to let out a miser groan about what was now my life and…


    How screwed I was over the fact that I was dealing with a full-fledged barbaric invasion by being the ruler of the closest ‘kingdom’ to the main front against the Germanic Tribes.


    It was not an immediate screwing, but a painful, lengthy one that would surely see me tortured and killed if I failed to play my card properly against the clearly-superior forces threatening my new fief, and all those living within my lands.


    Pressure much?


    I wasn’t even contemplating what was going on inside and nearby the limits of Londinium, the massive chaos created by the unrelenting wave of brigands, murderers and other kind of scumbags that were currently disrupting the functionality of the kingdom that I was now leading.


    While the main armies were still waiting around to consolidate to begin their major assaults, plus the time they would spend to march right where the castle was, I still had to deal with the few bastards that merely wanted to have their own solo ‘adventure’ around this ‘nice land’ ready to be plundered by their ambitious attempts.


    Major roads were surely blocked as of now because of the dangerous presence of foreigners littering the forests that were setting up some malicious checkpoints and I had yet to verify if there were contacts between the main authority (ergo, Londinium) and the rest of the cities, minor castles and temples spread out in the general region that were supposed to swear support for me.


    Not fealty, there had yet to develop a sense of feudalism within English aristocracy, the conception of a centralized and stable ranking system for the elite class ruling over the peasantry.


    I was fairly sure that proposing such an initiative right now would only create to me even more issues than I wanted.


    The system was flawed when it was conceived, spawned by the conflict between Church and State, and it was sure not going to work with how unsure the loyalties were until now.


    I didn’t need to find myself toppled by some band of nobles trying to impose another dictatorship because I granted them too much trust.


    Everyone was nervous nowadays and I was quite sure that some proper attention was needed before granting some legitimization of their current holding.


    Huffing and standing up from the bed, I decided to search around the room for any other objects that I might have missed the day before.


    While I had been getting accustomed over the map of the castle that was now my property by wandering around the place after a nice rest by the inner courtyard, I hadn’t been that much attentive over the things that were there in my bedroom.


    Quietly humming and scanning around the various pieces of furniture that were there for me to look carefully into, I ended up finding some old tomes, a mix of old diaries with somewhat perfect English words and some tomes with easy-to-read titles.


    It hadn’t taken me much to realize that the summoning, the ‘spell’ that had taken me away from my lone trip in the woods and right into this big crisis I was supposed to solve, had also given me the ability to understand, read and speak fluently the Latin that was still being used by the people living by the castle-city.


    A last sign of the Roman foothold over England, the city that was now supposed to represent the undefeated spirit of the newly-’freed’ nation that I was now leading to success.





    Hopefully it was success and not utter doom, the chances were still fairly low for a grand victory but…


    Never say never~!


    Gah, I regret quoting that horrible piece. I could have picked a better line instead of-


    Oh?


    My thoughts vanished just briefly as my full attention was grasped by the dark-blue robe that I had found by one of the dusty constructs of wood that I’ve been searching through until that moment of quiet.


    Eyes glancing all over this tunic, I had my left hand caress around the gold-like lines that gave it quite the regal air and… I decided to try it out.


    It was a slow process as I decided to wear the robe over my modern clothes, unwilling to part away from some of the few things that I had left of my previous life away from the current danger I had to face on my own… plus several hundred lance-wearing peasants.


    The measures were mostly correct, the only issue being the length of the arms’ sections that needed to be rolled up a little to not fully cover my hands, and I gave a glance at the full-body mirror set by one of the room’s corner.


    It was perfect. The visible jeans and shoes hid well with the dark-blueish color of the tunic, making those stand out just a little compared to the current clothes’ trend.


    As I started to ponder whatever or not should I have been focusing to make some better clothes for my subjects, starting to get irritated by the constant itching I felt by my exposed wrists, I tensed up as I heard someone knocking thrice by the door.


    I eased a little as my mind brought back some logic about the possible individual standing behind the little barrier, knowing only one individual having gone out of his way to greet me earlier yesterday’s morning.


    “Come in,” I allowed with a polite but loud-enough voice, the door opening mere moments later Altuos slowly entered inside, a patient smile on his face as he approached me.


    “Your Majesty, I see that you are fully awake and...” He paused, his attention take by the dress I was wearing. “I see that you have found the robes designed for the former governors of the city.”


    I blinked at his words, glancing down at the tunic itself and… just now noticing the little SPQR symbol but the upper section of the chest.


    “So this is something ceremonial, or it’s just something that isn’t used anymore?” I asked with a hint of curiosity, my mind lit at the fact I was wearing the former robes of a high-ranking role within the now mostly-defunct Roman Empire.


    “The previous governor, the one that assumed control merely a year ago before leaving three weeks ago, didn’t get the time to don such a regal outfit,” Altuos replied with a calm hum. “He was constantly moving around the territory to keep people loyal to Londinium but… ultimately he was forced to leave when the province of Gallia collapsed to the various factions in the region.”


    If I remember correctly, the lands where modern France would exist were split between the Roman Soissons, the Visigoths and the tribes of the Franks. Thus the Roman influence was already waning swiftly away from their previous strongholds.


    England was a particular case as the tribes from the north, those that were born from the fragmented Picts, weren’t able to sustain a full offensive to vanquish the Latin presence in proper England and Wales.


    Yet there was already a rebellious kingdom in the form of Dumnonia and, considering the age and time, I was quite sure that this new nation had already switched from Chalcedonian to the old pagan religions lingering within the Welsh/Cornish people, only to fall in some minor civil war between Christians and pagans.


    If I remember correctly, around this period a certain King Arthur was supposedly was supposed to be waging war as one of the contenders to take over the throne of his dead father, Uther Pendragon, after spending years training either in some unknown village in Cornwall or after making some experience in battles against the tribal invasions in France.


    The stories and the authenticity of the legendary figure were shrouded in mystery.


    Some would confirm his existence, others would dismiss it as different important characters that had names similar to the one bestowed to the holder of Caliburn.


    Maybe I will give it a proper look about his possible whereabouts once I was done with, you know, the crazy bastards marching towards Londinium in the effort of burning it to the ground.


    I nodded at Altuos. “I suppose I can use to make my introduction to the court,” I muttered quietly, gaining another nod from the elder as he started to led me out of my room and right towards where the throne room was.


    The walk was particularly brief, the important area of the castle being fairly close to where my bedroom was and… I was introduced to a modestly-sized but still humonguous room.


    It wasn’t an Imperial Throne Room, but considering that this was created from the place where Governors would address the issues present in this former Roman land, I could see it as a well-prepared place where to hold debates and conversations.


    And boy, did I plan to hold quite the debates and conversations in this pretty room for the sake of survival, betterment and… survival.


    Did I say survival?


    The vast space allowed by the setting permitted the presence of a noticeable group of people already standing near where the throne was.


    From their clothes I could recognize some of the nobles present at my summoning, some looked to be wearing religious tunics.


    I could also see Commander Marcus and some of his soldiers and some individuals donning light-gray cloaks with some peculiar items. One was wearing several jeweled necklaces at once while another was donning what seemed to be… some iron knuckles?


    From seeing this particular group wearing clothes similar to Altuos, it was simple to deduce that they were possibly a part of the same guild. They were those adept with the pseudo-magic the elder had displayed back when I doubted the truth in his words yesterday.


    Still, wasn't this a bit too early for thugs to be using magic for doing crazy stuff? What's next, some hypocrite?


    Just as this thought ran through my brain, I was forced to stop my approach directed at the chair designated to be used solely by me because an unfamiliar old man wearing some well-decorated white robes and some ‘tall’ hat paced calmly right towards me.


    “I assume you are King Joseph, the magnanimous ruler that Our Lord bestowed to us,” He spouted out with a somewhat familiar tone of spiritual elevation. The preachy kind.


    Be bowed just a little, some other men rushing to follow his same example, they were wearing white clothes just like the leader himself and… I hummed.


    “May I ask your name?” I questioned bluntly, holding back just enough to not sound overly-annoyed by this sudden interaction. “You know my name, yet I don’t know yours.”


    He tensed just a little, yet his ‘so-devoted’ expression barely twitched at the insolent tone I had taken to regard him.


    “Felicianus of Dubris, Bishop of Londinium, and sole holder of the Church representation here in this island,” He bowed a little more, head leaning forward. “Apologies if I introduced myself with far too much vigor… it was the joy of seeing you, the true proof of Our Lord’s mercy upon us in these dire times.”


    The nobles started to whisper with each other, fascinated by this new claim over my presence here, clashing with the one presented by Altuos. In fact, I could see the hooded members of the Magus Guild tensing up and showing some irritation at the attempt to slander their efforts, an attempt that I didn’t plan to see completely unfold like this.


    “I suppose you could consider my presence a divine blessing,” I started subtly, trying to come up with the best way to counter the little clout he had over the aristocracy.


    The Church had yet to enforce its domination upon Kings and the not-yet created Holy Roman Empire in this century, and their influence was still strong enough to be problematic if not handled with a certain… ‘attention’.


    “But it would be incorrect to confuse Our Lord’s intervention as a direct and immediate miracle,” I continued with a certain tone, my eyes fixed on the confused expression on the bishop’s face. “While the will was of God Almighty, a mortal hand was the direct responsible for such an event. Just like Jesus was a representation of the Lord’s interest upon His subjects, so the Magus Guild acted upon the same reasoning.”


    His eyes widened in shock, the holy man was certainly unprepared to deal with someone that had this much preparation about the bible itself.


    Catechism did leave me a certain cultural knowledge over some aspects of Christianity, some of those were even expanded upon when I ended up reading some of the books attached to the Divine and the Holy.


    I wasn’t supposed to gloat this early on as the discussion was far from over, yet I couldn’t help but grin in my thoughts at the fact I shattered the initial perception this jerk had over me.


    Since many heirs to aristocracy were taught by priests over the importance of ‘some’ of the bible’s precepts and I hadn’t been ‘born’ in that role, I would consider a possibility that Felicianus had thought me to be a mere fool that he could have manipulated so quickly and so brazenly.


    Maybe it had been fear at the idea that Altuos had been around me since I had woken up yesterday, ‘possibly giving me the wrong ideas over the Church’, or maybe there was some stupid panic at the chances of having gotten a heretical king from this circumstance.


    Catholicism had yet to fully manifest and many heresies like Nestorian and Arianism were plaguing the war-torn areas of Europe while Christianity battled against the Barbaric tribes and other pagan religions hailing from the east.


    “B-But they are not devoted believers,” The old priest rebuked quietly, trying to keep reason as his main argument. “Their mission wasn’t one ordained from God-”


    “Does God seriously need to speak to people to put them in charge of a heavenly duty?” I said with a tighter voice. “Did God have to truly enforce His might upon the Jews when they started to worship other deities? Didn’t He Himself demand their submission with his first words proclaimed upon the Holy Covenant?”


    His eyes were now wide-open, shock filling him as I had gotten him well-enough surprised over my grasp over the History of the Old Testament.


    I had him right where I wanted him, the mood and the awe just what I needed to commit myself to quite the risky speech.


    “The Lord himself promised love with the birth of Jesus Christ, the son of two humble believers, and proof that a good life can be made without the need of sinful means,” I explained with some resolution in my voice. “While the Magus Guild isn’t a completely loyal to God, their virtues within their mortality make them worthy enough of being our brothers in soul and in true times of need.”


    “Y-yet they don’t believe-”


    “God’s mercy is eternal, while He might found doubtful the state of their devotion, He Himself wouldn’t deny the fact that their mission is just like any faithful Christian’s,” I proclaimed with a determined smile. “An endless war against the Wicked One and those that stand by his sinful ways. The infidels that are currently marching towards Londinium, ready to commit the most heinous atrocities that a good man could ever consider for the sake of honor and elation at the possibility.”


    He seemed to realize what I was talking about, just what I needed from him in this moment. Faith was a double-edged weapon, especially in times of war and suffering.


    When a man or a woman are left before an inevitable disaster coming towards them, their only certainty is faith in someone. Someone above and beyond their comprehension, that would never betray them or bring them any wrongful judgment.


    “T-The infidels- T-The invaders!” He exclaimed in dread. “They represent Hell’s own destructive ambitions!”


    I smiled at the heated reply and I nodded. “Indeed, they are trying to subvert what is right and good, what is holy and divine.”


    “This is… why the Magus Guild will make sure to cooperate with King Joseph,” Altuos interjected with a calm voice, drawing the attention of the bishop upon himself. “Even though animosity was the sole emotion that we shared until now, I wish to make sure that the innocents and the weak are protected by the onslaught approaching.”


    Felicianus blinked, his lips parted but no response coming at first as he seemed fixed in time, stuck in a moment of immense doubt and thought.


    “God is our father… our merciful creator and the one that is the final judgment of our sins or misled faiths,” The bishop slowly spoke. “He is caring, but stern. He is loving but also righteous and I think His Will in this specific circumstance is to make peace with the misguided fools of the Magus Guild.”


    I was a little surprised by his hesitation and quick jabs at the ‘rival group’ to the Church, but I still nodded.


    “United we shall stand against the wave of evil,” I preached with a determined tone. “But if we stay divided, we shall fall before the carnage.”


    The two elders nodded at each other and I was finally allowed to take a seat by the little throne deeper in that room.


    Everyone slowly started to kneel before me while Felicianus and Altuos kept standing up.


    “All praise King Joseph, first of his name, and true ruler of Britannia, the home of the Holy, of the Just and of the Merciful,” The bishop introduced solemnly.


    “May his reign be long and prosperous, filled with joy and victory, of glorious feats and betterment!”


    Wait, does that mean that my dynastic name is-


    Long Live King Joseph of Britannia, true King of the Isle.


    The collective response got me impressed, awed and… quite nervous over this new step I just made.


    It was another tentative one, this time it was careful manipulation that got me to sit in a stabler seat of power instead of dealing with inner dissent so early on in my reign.


    I sighed, giving a polite smile at those still kneeling and I nodded. “You may stand and… we may begin the first session of Court… starting with the provisions required for the defenses-”


    -------------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d----------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d---


    “That was quite the impressive speech, kingly,” Marcus Ambrosius giddily proclaimed as he took a seat in the lone chair in his tent, staring at me as I glanced at him with some impatience. “Almost got me to shed a tear of absolute loyalty… yet it takes more than just some sweet-talking to prove your worth as the liege of this once-glorious city.”


    His words left me confused and the fact my brain was still recovering from the three-hour long court session I had to deal with just a while ago.


    I wasn’t certainly up to face any annoying deflection over the subject that brought me here instead of butting heads with the paperwork I was supposed to sign about by now.


    Thank God, Altuos had decided to pick some of the less important topics to deal himself...


    “I thought this was meant to be a training session,” I bluntly interjected, my eyes narrowing at his shit-eating grin. “You said that-”


    “This is in fact going to be the true proof of your words, of your valor as a conqueror and as a protector,” He interrupted eagerly, almost snarling in preparation at whatever he had planned for me. “The first lesson will in fact be… to fetch yourself a sword.”


    ...What?


    “The first lesson is… to-”


    “Fetch a sword, yes. There is no need to repeat what I just said, kingly.”


    My irritation bubbled even more at the cockiness I was facing against. “But isn’t that too easy?”


    His grin didn’t falter. “If it is, then why are you here gawking like a brat that just crapped himself?”


    I didn’t comment at that insult, understanding that words wouldn’t matter in this circumstance and I indeed started to search for a sword, starting right from the tent.


    I could remember seeing some weapons stacked by a box nearby the entrance the day before, thus my stare turned right into a… now empty wooden box.


    A blink, then I was walking out of that tent silently, not even showing any respect to bid a goodbye the still-smiling bastard as I paced towards the nearby barracks.


    The building was mostly empty, the troops were currently training on another section of the city and thus leaving me free to raid the place for any sword left forgotten on purpose or by mistake.


    I found not a single weapon. There wasn’t even a single dagger left around the place and-


    I blinked again as I left the building after ten full minutes of thorough searching in the various rooms assigned to the soldiers and a strong suspect had started to insinuate itself in my mind.


    The task would have been easy to complete if it had been done in a normal situation, yet there was a strong possibility that Marcus had wittingly made sure to leave not a single sword for me to find in the normal places within the city.


    He had wanted me to suffer for the rest of the day before giving me a true chance to train and get strong.


    Now that magic was a variable, training on a personal level was a must both in terms of physical and magical defence.


    The world was crazier than I thought back in Medieval Ages and only God knew what kind of threats I would end up facing in this predicament.


    Vortigern, Morgana, Mordred and other villains that could easily tear me apart without some proper understanding of magic and swordsmanship.


    Altuos had already promised some theoretical lectures before introducing me to some practical works and so I was left to deal with the ‘mundane’ aspect of my planned training which was the one proposed by the cheeky bastard of a commander that was Marcus.


    Seconds of silence passed and I was left wandering the partially-crowded mud roads within the castle-city, ignoring the stares I was getting from the people in my proximity as my target was-


    “Waaah!” “No more!” “You are so strong!”


    “Stop, you evil Romans!” A child yelled at three fellow children running away from him, the young boy holding a poor-quality wooden sword over his head while giving chase to his friends.


    I stopped for a moment to stare at the scene unfolding before my eyes, confused at what was going on… until I heard the people around commenting about it.


    “They are still playing at it? I thought the game was too hold for-”


    “Some kinds need to show that they are brave,” Someone interjected with a laid-back tone. “Let them play ‘Nennius’ as much as they want for.”


    “Perhaps you are right...”


    At this point I had gone away from where these two fellows were as I rushed towards the gates of Londinium, an idea slowly bubbling up and providing me with a quick solution to solve this test without having to beg anyone for a sword.


    Why would I forget about that detail about Londinium? How could I forget about that sword!?


    Good questions that sadly were ignored out of mercy upon my wounded pride over my forgetfulness about something that was related to my historical and mythological knowledge.


    My first objective was finding a shovel, something far easier than the mission imposed by Marcus as recovering one from one of the guards by the entrance, one of the few ones left in case of emergencies about the breaking of the gates.


    The men stationed there were surprised by the request, but quick to offer me one as I started to dig right outside the city and in front of the gates, staring at the ground as I carefully attempted to find something important… and hopefully existing in this crazy place.


    Twenty minutes of digging later, the resulting hole in the ground lacked the sword I was searching for.


    Uneasiness swelled in my chest as I moved out of the newly-dig crater and went to replicate the same activity on a zone not too far away.


    Three newer holes later, each making me lose some of my hopes of succeeding with my endeavors, I finally saw the results of my hardwork when I found a skeleton… an a sword embedded in its cranium.


    And the blade was truly a beauty to look at, its decorations matching with its supposed potential hidden in its form.


    The hilt of the sword was made with dark-blue metal that culminated on some blue pearl, the length formed by two alloys, an outer one of light-silver color and the inner one made of a golden-like section that contained some mysterious symbols engraved into it.


    I lifted it up from the ground and out of pile of bones, the remain of the legendary Nennius of Britannia, the very man that stole the very sword of Julius Caesar and used it to kill dozens of Romans in the losing battle of Trinovantum (what now was Londinium).


    The first Briton that patriotically stood out for his bravery and willpower against and aggressor and… now I was going to make use of this blade to protect Britain from another invasion, this one bigger, more gruesome and hopefully one that would see the defeat of the Germanic horde.


    “Hey, Kingly!” A certain infuriating bastard shrieked from the gates of the city, standing right beside… the noticeable crowd of people that has been created to look at the initially-odd behavior of mine.


    I had seen someone standing and watching me suffering while digging in that scorching sun, but I had been so unaware of how big my ‘audience’ had gotten after so much time had passed since I started my ‘fun hobby’.


    “What is that?” The commander finally asked loudly enough for me to hear and… I grinned madly, lifting the sword up in the sky and showing its full glory to the cast of people.


    You wanted some proof of my worth?


    “People of Londinium, I present you with this legendary blade,” I exclaimed loudly and with some dramatic tone to it, my grin almost getting me to break the solemn introduction. “Once owned by Julius Caesar, before becoming the sword used by Nennius of Britannia, I show you the Yellow Death, Crocea Mors.”


    If this had been a cartoon, the military leader that was now gawking at the greatest Roman artifact left in Britain would have had his jaws dropping at the floor, the rest of the crowd recognizing its worth only by mentioning the two legendary heroes that once used this still-pristine that was now mine to use.


    I looked up at it, the sunlight making it glimmer and show more of its holy appearance, making me wonder how much of a sign this was for my successes.


    Propaganda was one thing but…


    Can it lead me to victory?


    Once this very thought concluded, I noticed an odd glow within the sword, almost teasing me and berating me from thinking that there was anything else but…


    Success.


    And as I made my way back to the gates of the city, the strings of destiny seemed to twist and change under the development I had just achieved, something that I would never know about… until the world started to roll brutally to fix such a change.


    But who would win, an untrained boi with an aim-bot sword or a magically-enchanted cast of characters from the Arthurian Legends… and beyond?


    ------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d------------


    AN


    Crocea Mors was allegedly buried with Nennius of Britannia from what Geoffrey of Monmouth in his Historia Regum Britanniae (The History of the Kings of Britain).


    Also, Hail King JoJo of Britannia!
     
    Last edited: Mar 17, 2020
  6. MasterOfDragonsGod

    MasterOfDragonsGod Connoisseur.

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    Hail to the king baby :D
     
    EJ Maybe Writer, Zeus and JBukharin like this.
  7. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Kudos for Ant0nius (from FF) for pointing out the grammar mistakes that required some fixing. Chapter should be a little more easy to read.
     
    Skull Trap likes this.
  8. Threadmarks: Chapter 3: To be a King (3)
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Chapter 3: To be a King (3)


    I could easily remember the full extent of the legend behind Nennius of Britannia and the battle for Londinium.


    The sheer brutality and combat prowess displayed by the heavily-wounded Briton after being defeated by Julius Caesar were nothing short of legendary.


    The highly-detailed kill count after receiving that fatal injury to his head that was forwarded by Geoffrey of Monmouth made it clear that whatever had happened in that fight, it was somehow connected to the blade that was now mine to use.


    Crocea Mors was… immensely powerful even after so many years of inactivity.


    I remember that when Altuos first looked at it, he had almost vibrated at the chance of studying the peculiar sword, whispering furiously and swiftly over the various effects that the runes impressed upon the metal were giving to the renowned weapon.


    All of it was the result of masterful work from the old Magecraft available only to the most powerful members of the Roman Empire, which became a lovely attachment to Caesar’s innate capacity to win victory through his intelligence.


    Yet what truly got me hooked over this lucky discovery was how it exactly worked and why I had to make sure that this sword would always remain under my control.


    Once it had bonded with its wielder, Crocea Mors would give them the power to obtain victory upon close-ranged fights in any circumstance.


    Yep, I was holding the first ever Aimbot ever created and I wasn’t feeling even a glimpse of shame of keeping it around.


    Of course I had to put it away while training with Marcus as we were both quick to notice that I couldn’t just be beaten while I was holding the sword.


    Not even in the unfairness of a ‘one against four’ spar I came ever close to face defeat against my opponent, surprising the soldiers that had been mustered for the task.


    I was incredibly quick, my reaction time was absurdly synchronized with my pace and I could barely feel winded even after numerous spars of various difficulty.


    It was good news because it offered me the edge over personal fights with any opponent but I was well-aware that trusting too much the blade for my successes would be a quick way to fall against some lucky opponent.


    Caesar did lose it while battling against Nennius, but while the famous Roman general had plenty of experience to still be a skilled fighter without Crocea Mors, I was still someone that trusted his combat ability upon years spent playing videogames and playing with sticks back in my childhood.


    Plus, a well-aimed arrow could easily kill me even while holding such a powerful artifact.


    But I couldn’t help but also worry about the fact that Excalibur was now a possibility since Crocea Mors was now there and I was frightened by the prospect of fighting the current holder of such blade, either King Arthur himself or one of the various people that ‘shared’ the name with him.


    I mean, if Crocea Mors was this strong, God knows how much stronger Excalibur would be- and that is without considering other weapons like Caliburn, Caladbolg, Rhongomyniad, and Gae Bolg.


    If these blades were actually lingering around… then things were surely going to become quite interesting if not panic-inducing for me.


    The first spar without the weapon proved to be a good proof to solidify my worries over the matter, with the Commander steamrolling me without much effort.


    My built was slim and with some signs of muscles in some places, but I wasn’t still fit enough to manage myself into a fight.


    Which was a big bad considering that this era saw more actions for kings and I was meant to lead charges into the enemy in case of serious ‘fair’ battles.


    Honor was a thing, but not to the same degree known only to GoT’s Starks, and I had to keep myself afloat in the continuous political challenge of my position with a mix of good words and proper successes under my belt.


    Which is why training in both swordsmanship and magecraft proved to be the best choice of action for the time being as the preparation for my planned traps continued smoothly thanks to the help of some peasants loyal to the castle.


    Felicianus had politely accepted the new burden I’ve decided to bestow to the priests working at the church, giving them the humble task of setting some rudimentary soup kitchens by some of the unoccupied buildings of the little city.


    It had been quite awkward to explain what exactly a ‘soup kitchen’ was and why it was important to feed those that were now without work and home but the results were in fact showing in the form of the little engineer corps I’ve managed to create in so little time.


    For now it was just a dozen of well-built men with some basic understanding of craftsmanship that would be used as the backbone for the main operation I had set to dispense before the arrival of the army of barbarians.


    I had been informed during the training with Altuos about the theoretical understanding of the mystical arts he was teaching me that there was a high chance of ‘shamans’ following the main force to help with the siege.


    Which is why, much to my initial displeasure, I couldn’t make use of proper magecraft to set up some traps against the invading banner.


    Still, I wasn’t even close to see any major issues from this development as it proved that I had to focus myself into developing some hybrid technology that could best fit with the resources we had here in Londinium.


    The creation of makeshift mines was a process that was elaborated by some Magus specializing in explosives, but to make it possible for those to not be detected, I had ordered for them to create a process that could work without the usage of magecraft itself.


    The presence of various people on this project ended up seeing the problem solved mere hours after its conception.


    The proper plans to prepare the explosives were given to the engineers assigned to create and set those mines in specific parts of the muddy paths that led to the fortress and in the forest sections nearby those.


    They were accompanied by a small detachment of hunters that were there to sign down on some maps the various locations of the mines that had been deployed so that the removal of those once the hostilities were over and our situation had stabilized.


    I couldn’t just let Britain become Vietnam, even though I had a strong need to introduce ‘Leeroy Jenkins’ to the battle cries available to the soldiers.


    For now I had managed to get ‘Deus Vult’ down, getting quite the praise from Felicianus at the mentioning of such thing.


    But returning back to the subject about the mines, I have to make a clarification.


    The traps were meant to debilitate and reduce the morale within the enemy force, enough to make it possible for our numerically inferior army to smash in their ranks and crack their hopes of victory by sheer panic and surprise.


    Morale is the key of major victories, especially when our foes were the ones to be demoralized and drawn to a fickle resistance to our planned counter-attack.


    And this is why Soup Kitchens were inherently important for this topic as those would offer our soldiers some means of having a pleasant stay within the castle even after the war was over.


    Maybe even create the first professional army since I was still controlling a bunch of half-trained militias that weren’t supposed to wage war beyond the current circumstances.


    Yet the promise of reforms, of changes that would see them having to worry no longer over their means to rest or their needs of finding something good to eat would surely see something change about it all.


    In conjunction to this there was a revival of devotion of the divine figure of God.


    With the Church being the direct responsible for feeding so many poor people, many were already starting to feel more attached to their faith in Christianity and many were already dropping their doubts over reverting back to their pagan beliefs.


    It was the beginning of my reign and, while I would have wanted to do much more than this in my third day, I knew that risking too much of the treasury would be fatal for the kingdom’s economy.


    We were working on some closed-circuited system that couldn’t survive for long times and a serious victory to give us the opportunity of securing back the nearby villages was a must.


    Once we were to reclaim control of those, the coin should start to roll far quicker than it is right now in its sluggish pace.


    Major reforms so suddenly would only shake the boat until it flips back around… killing its occupants in the process.


    I was preparing multiple plans that would have to be implemented gradually within my kingdom and boy I had some plans over what to do over it all with the beauty of what magecraft was.


    Despite the fact it wasn’t full-fledged magic and restrained by the laws of nature, these mystical arts were still something that could easily help to speed up the pace of progress for humanity if handled correctly and with some careful approach.


    Heck, I wouldn’t even dismiss the thoughts of bringing order in mainland Europe once things were properly stabilized in the British Isles, but that was already going to take a while with the various rulers, historical and mystical, still ruling in Scotland and Ireland.


    It was easy to imagine the potential and the limits of such advancement, but for now my attention was directed to the invading raiders than to what I could do after beating them.


    Which is why I had made sure to also start the construction of some proto-cannons to fix by the walls of the city to offer some artillery coverage for the approaching fight.


    It was time to amp up the tune of war and bring in some new instruments of the overture in the battlefield.


    Marcus was quite fascinated by what I had defined as the combination of a ballista’s direct and precise firing and the firepower available only to a catapult, even asking to ‘try out this new toy’.


    There were some fires that needed to be dealt with in the last twelve hours, but I’ve to admit I’ve never seen someone so battle-hardened look as giddy as a child while shooting his newest weapon.


    With the army under Londinium’s control almost doubling with the integration of the poor men that had decided to join for the ‘glorious last stand to protect the land of God’, I was quite sure that a victory against the invading force would be quick to achieve if there weren’t any issues happening in the mean time.


    But of course, just like it was usual when people were prone to think about this simple sentence in their highest peak of success, something did have to happen to either foil their plan or to introduce something far worse than planned and… I’m quite unsure about what had happened back then.


    It all began by the end of lunch and I could remember making my way right to my bedroom to change up with some clothes that best fitted with the training session I had planned to go through with Marcus.


    Altuos hadn’t been present during the official lunch for important reasons, to which I merely didn’t give too much weight about.


    He might be my advisor and closest supporter, but he was still the leader of an entire guild and for that he had all the rights to take an absence to deal with whatever situation was going on with his group.


    Walking alone in the quiet halls of the castle, I was given some time to prepare for what was going to be another brutal session of trying to get the whole ‘dodging’ gig going with four guys attacking me at the same time.


    That wasn’t just realistic! Not even in Dark Soul that was a skill that one could just learn, only luck and RNG playing best for that kind of shenanigans.


    Still, the Commander firmly believed in my capacity of pulling that stuff off after some serious efforts and… I was quite sure that the real reason was to see me getting my ass handled easily by his own apprentices.


    They were good people that were meaning well with their help, but they weren’t sparing me anything during the training sessions, not even a moment to recover from any unplanned trip face-first to the floor.


    Groaning quietly at this very thought, I felt myself tensing up and stopping in my steps as I heard some growing noises starting to come right by… the corner of this corridor.


    Just as I proceeded to take some cautious steps to try and see what was going on with the distinct sounds that seemed to have been taken by some magic fight from a movie, I saw a cloaked figure set flying towards the wall, only for a bubble-like blue barrier to form around his body and reducing the damage to a minimum.


    My eyes widened in shock as I recognized who was I looking at, dread surging as it seemed to be a clear attack to the castle.


    Altuos was lying his back on the cold ground as blood slowly pouring from his lips but his half-focused eyes were directed at the responsible for such an attack.


    “Y-You will n-not-”


    “Spare yourself the unnecessary breathing, Altuos,” A suave feminine voice interceded smoothly. “You know well enoughthat you can spare yourself this pain if you relinquish the tome detailing the summoning spell.”


    Loud steps started to draw closer and soon my sight was over it.


    I saw a particularly tall behemoth cover my eyes with its large frame from seeing the owner of the heavenly voice that was responsible for the assault on the elder.


    The being was wearing a knight-like armor that had a helmet that perfectly covered their identity with how few openings there were on it.


    A shining white blade was on his right hand, while the other palm was busy holding a silver shield with a crow-like insigna onto it.


    Before I could have said anything about it, I noticed the armored figure now looking at me with utmost attention, taking a few steps towards me and prompting me to unsheathe Crocea Mors in preparation for an attack.


    A quick hum originated from behind it. “It would seem like we have an unexpected guest to our little reunion, I suppose we will have to first deal with him.”


    As those words concluded, the knight-like titan rushed to the attack, its speed being far faster than any opponent I’ve have faced just yet and… quite to a degree that I could say that it was truly something inhuman hiding behind helmet.


    It took a large swing with its sword, forcing me to jump over it as I approached it with immense caution.


    This wasn’t just a spar that I could just back away from and… I could already feel the difference by the first dodge.


    My breathing started to grow softer, my eyes narrowed on my target and the world seemed to turn in a blur as I plunged briefly the blade of my weapon right into its exposed lower thigh.


    It groaned in what I could perceive as pain, but it didn’t seem deterred from trying to bash me away as he lifted the sword from its extended reach.


    I moved to the side, ducking away as it took another mighty swing in an effort to cleave me in half.


    There was something wrong about its maneuvering, something that just felt… inorganic.


    Like a robot but… that couldn’t just be it.


    I continued to think about it as I continued to dodge or deflect away the various attacks sent in my general direction, my attention mostly directed to the little openings popping in its stance as the deadly dance continued.


    I could listen some discussion still going in the background while I was fighting this monster.


    The woman that commanded my opponent was interacting with Altuos and the elder was rejecting any persuasions coming from the mysterious mastermind of this sudden and unexpected assault.


    But I couldn’t just… get a glance over where she was standing, the high-paced combat was drawing most of my focus on the still dangerous behemoth.


    It had just shrugged off the non-negligible wound on its chest even though it was still bleeding through its armor.


    No signs of relenting its aggressive pattern, I found myself lost in that swift loop and…


    Then I felt pain surge from my stomach, the armored fiend slamming a quick kick on it.


    It takes just a mistake for you to lose a fight, Kingly.”


    It was instantaneous, almost a blur, and I felt my eyes being forced wide open by the shock.


    I blurted spit and blood as that powerful and unexpected attack sent me flying onto the close wall, my back being unprepared for the new wave of pain rising from the impact.


    I fell on one knee at that brutal escalation, trembling and shivering at the fact I had lost so much blood so quickly and… I could feel that I was starting to hyperventilate at the presence of so much red staining the floor and my clothes- my sight even.


    This was my first battle and… it was also going to be the last one.


    I felt the bile trying to rise up through my throat, but I was quick to send it back to my belly where it truly belonged.


    My sight was now directed at the approaching opponent, the giant having dropped its shield and now lifting his sword with all its might, ready to conclude the job once and for all.


    That seemed to be it. I thought that it was my last moment of what could have been my greatest opportunity that life had offered me.


    With my brain slowly shutting up as the blood was starting to get hold of my logical thoughts and drowning them to silence, I started to feel time slowing down to see the killing blow unfold silently and unopposed.





    But was that going to be it?


    Was I just… going to surrender myself to this sudden assassination attempt that wasn’t even directed at me to begin with?


    Can I actually afford to lose this fight with how high the bets are?


    What about the people believing in me to save them from the approaching invasion?


    C-Can I just- just shatter their hope, ca-can I let them perish because I- I WANT TO GIVE UP!?!


    I snarled at myself in a chiding manner for even considering just letting death take me away without a fight, my head burning fiercely and I felt forced to stay away through the need of catch some rest as the fight wasn’t over yet.


    One could say that I was trying some stupid thing, to fight the unavoidable, to fend off the blow that would effortlessly see me killed… but with the odds stacked against me and the knowledge that people were giving me their trust to see the bright light of another day...


    I felt an itching sensation coming from the hand holding Crocea Mors.


    The blade begging to continue, to not stop, to persist and win this battle against this weak bastard in front of me.


    “I-I refuse to let go of my kingdom!” I proclaimed loudly, some lucidity still missing from my mind as I prepared to thrown a useless swing at the incoming doom, my hands tightly holding at the sword’s hilt as I forced it to move upward. “G-Go Forth, Crocea Mors!


    Now from there things start to get quite difficult to remember at this point.


    I think I saw my blade exploding in pure golden and scarlet light as it continued its ascension, cutting verily into the torso of the golem and shredding its inner bits apart.


    It was magical, it wasn’t bloody but I was certainly feeling energized by this explosion of new vigor rushing all over my body.


    It groaned, backing away in shock and pausing its attack as its arms flailed in agony at the sudden damage it had sustained… but I wasn’t done yet.


    Not after what had just happened.


    I started to cut wildly, aimlessly and mercilessly into its mechanic-looking innards, shredding into its metallic bits, spilling its strange-looking goo away from its chest and after what felt to have been an eternity, I saw it fall backward on the floor to never get up again.


    I waited for a full minute, silence reigning over the corridor and I sighed in relief at the lack of activity from the now-broken giant.


    My posture was still tense after that last hit and my breathing was terribly labored after what had just happened here.


    My body was mostly torn by the experience, some of the pointy bits of the wall having cut some more wounds on my back when I crashed butt-first into it.


    I was so clueless, so tired and… I was aware that it wasn’t over yet.


    I glanced to the side as I was finally granted the chance of seeing the one responsible for this attack and she was already staring at me.


    The woman was wearing a crown-like thing on top of her head, the upwards spiky bits being made with dark-colored sapphires.


    She had a dark-tinted veil covering her face, so I could just see her pale-blonde hair that reached far below her knees.


    Her dark dress with dull-blue details was very revealing with several spots showing parts of her skin that didn’t truly display any nudity.


    Her midriff was exposed, some blood-red tattoo-like details developing near her belly button… before resuming right above her mostly-exposed cleavage.


    It took me a moment to actually stare at the detail instead of getting allured by the infinity of certain valleys.


    Goddamn, is this what Giacomo Leopardy was alluding to about the infinite?


    I started to make my slow and incredibly pained way towards Altuos and the mysterious woman, Crocea Mors trailing down on the ground as I didn’t feel strong enough to rise it up in a proper guarding stance.


    While the super-adrenaline had gotten me to survive the golem, I just couldn’t keep up with another fight with the same pace if not worse than the one I just left as the victor.


    “So you are the one Altuos has summoned to lead this dying city?” The pale-blonde muttered with a hint of intrigue and fascination. “To think that a mere human could have been able to survive an Enforcer, one of my latest creations.”


    Her musings continued even as I finally reached close enough to see the shocked look on the slightly-injured elder.


    “A-Altuos?” I muttered weakly, towards the Magus.


    “Y-Your Majesty?” He seemed still shocked, but managed a nod at my query.


    “C-Can you do the thing where… you actually call for medical assistance?”


    Confusion hindered him for a while, but ultimately the old man reached for the communication gem within one of his robes’ pockets.


    “Are you now really going to ignore me, false pretender?” The woman resumed her verbal charge once again. “Not only you rudely refuse to introduce yourself, but you also decide to pass me, the blood of Uther Pendragon and true Queen of Britain, off for-”


    “W-Wait, you are Morgan le Fay?”





    She eased a little, then she seemed to tense up again as she brought her right hand up, lifting just a few fingers.


    “How many fingers are you seeing right now, you fool?”


    The question broke a little from the past few sentences, but I decided to comply to this silly request.


    “F-Four?”


    The blond shook her head.


    “Of course. After fighting the Enforcer, you are far too drained to even commit yourself to attack me.”


    She took a few steps towards me and paused, her hand lifting my chin up so I could stare right into her veiled face instead of lingering onto her bosom.


    “You are strong, I can tell you would become great under my rule,” Morgan said with such a sensual and enticing tone, almost tickling my chin. “But you would have to recognize me as-”


    “I-I’m sorry,” I interjected with a simple whisper. “While you might have some p-pretty eyes and quite the lovely s-smile, I have to refuse you-your offer.”





    She almost went to check if her veil was still on as I commented about her face, but of course I couldn’t see anything through that little barrier.


    “Why?”


    “I-I’m Joseph, King of Britannia and… ruler of the p-people that believes in me,” I replied tiredly. “A-And I don’t want to- to-”


    “To hurt them?” Morgan guessed with a bored tone, letting go of my chin and taking a step back. “You are just like Arthur about this… but your response is genuine, it feels as such.”


    “A-Also, aren’t you… married already with a King?” I asked almost as quickly as she replied. “I think it was… King Lot, right?”





    “I’m surprised you, a mere ‘stranger’ would know about this,” The woman voiced her surprise and interest over my knowledge. “I now wonder what else you know about the world around you.”


    She giggled and then… a dark-blue portal opened behind her.


    “But I think this time I will let you live, little claimant,” The blonde concluded with a sigh. “Your tenacity will prove to be enough of an entertainment and I can only see you succeed against the fools trying to raze the Isles.”


    I blinked at her words and spoke up once again. “W-Wait,” I held my free arm towards her and she actually stopped to listen. “W-Why did you attack Altuos then?”


    She stared back with some silence at first, then she sighed.


    “Why should I even tell you this, Joseph of Britannia?”


    And with that rejection, I was left standing with quite the odd situation.


    “Y-Your Majesty- Are you sure that-”


    Thud.


    “Y-Your Majesty!”


    The floor kindly accepted my body face-first as I felt my last strength go away, leaving me to face the worst kind of exhaustion I had to ever suffer until now.


    Yep, today is truly a good day to kiss the floor while thinking about hills.


    ---------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d----------d-d-dd------------


    AN


    Morgan strikes and… she is quite interested about the summoning spell used by Altuos.


    But why and… why?


    And what about Joseph. Can he truly survive this situation or will a random encounter actually come and kill him in a moment of surprise and shock?


    So many questions… but most of it all.


    How old is Morgan compared to Arthur?


    P.S. 231 Followers after just three chapter? Holy Jesus, that’s a big number. Yay!
     
    Last edited: Mar 17, 2020
  9. Dark0w1

    Dark0w1 LuRK3r-07

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    I need images to confirm such claims.
     
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  10. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Depends on the images you are seeking.
     
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  11. Dark0w1

    Dark0w1 LuRK3r-07

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    I need to know what image you are referencing for the infinite valley claims.:D
     
  12. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    He was comparing it to the 'Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog' by Caspar David Friedrich, which is considered as the visual representation of Giacomo Leopardi's The Infinite.
     
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  13. Dark0w1

    Dark0w1 LuRK3r-07

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    Ahh... Yes, those lonely hills indeed are infinite and I definitely gaze lovingly on her flaxen hedgerows. I would sit and enjoy viewing such ephemeral beauty like the cool wind on a hot summer day.

    Yeah, reading that poem gave me a lot of lewd thoughts about Morgana la Fey and I apologise for the bad attempt of poetry.
     
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  14. Threadmarks: Chapter 4: To be a King (4)
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Chapter 4: To be a King (4)


    It was early in the morning and I was still unsure about my difficult decision of actually standing in front of the main force that was supposed to defend Londinium.


    I was still aching, my body well-covered in bandages that were mostly hidden by the armor I was donning over my normal clothes.


    Riding a horse was… making things far worse than those should be while I was merely walking on my own.


    The animal was particularly calm, it was well-behaved, but still giving some shakes as it patiently waited for my command to move around and… that was making my capacity to think even less than it was a few hours ago.


    I should have been a goner after falling into unconsciousness, mere instants after the sorceress had left that ruined hall of the castle.


    Despite winning that battle against that golem and surviving a discussion with Morgan le Fay, the wounds I had sustained during the fight should have seen me dying for how much extensive those were.


    My recovery had been possible only thanks to the Magus Guild, the group having offered quality help in keeping my situation stable while the ‘healers’ took care of my injuries.


    Some members of the Church had been spectating the entire development too, keeping away from disrupting the intensive care I had been subjected to.


    A ‘precautionary force’ in case of betrayal from the guild, as Felicianus had been quick to define when inquired about the matter.


    There was some tension between the two factions, but nothing truly erupted from just some insults thrown left and right while I continued to be unconscious.


    I was sleeping as the critical situation was being solved, my mind too tired and somewhat drained by the wrecked state of my body.


    I could remember some of the early pain that preceded my partial recovery as the main operation was only meant to put me in a somewhat sufficient state to actively give orders for the soon-to-happen battle.


    I remember waking up about two hours after midnight and… it was still dark.


    A few Magi that were keeping watch over my bed were quick to give me a proper checkup, to see if the herbs and the spells used to speed up my healing were working without any worrisome drawback.


    Altuos had been summoned about ten minutes after my awakening and he looked to have gained several decades with just a glance directed at me.


    He was immensely concerned if not worried about my conditions, kind of touching considering that I had yet to cope with the fact I didn’t have anyone else to trust in those dark moments.


    Despite my newest role as a leader, I had forfeited the presence of my family and… that was still stinging even now.


    After some brief words to see the current state of things, how everything had gone by as I had been stuck in that comatose state, I found myself embroiled in what I could describe as a divided house.


    For the first time since I had started my rule, both Altuos and Felicianus were quick to side on the fact that I had to stay within the castle as I was in no condition to even move away from the bed.


    The two elders were opposed by the stern front erected by Marcus with the commander of the little army defending the city kept pressing on the fact that my presence was the element that would keep the numerically inferior forces from making sudden retreats during the incoming fight.


    I was silent for a good hour, letting both sides expose the boons of their different mindset while also undermining their ‘opponents’ by highlighting the flaws of the opposite decision.


    It was all nice and instructive as each gave their own understanding of the situation while keeping a surprising civil tone for this circumstance.


    I was keen to listen all the fair points and the little odd bits about divine justice and morality that were sprouted here and there mostly by the bishop.


    In the end, much to the two old men, I had to accept the fact I couldn’t just skip the duty I had in staying in front of the army.


    Morale was going to reduce drastically if I ended up to not be directly involved in the battle, with many of the soldiers taking it as a sign of betrayal whatever excuse brought to them.


    The news of my wounds had reached very few people, mostly those that worked and lived in the royal castle.


    I was still ‘fine’ to the eyes of the large majority and I couldn’t just skip my task now that the stakes were so high.


    I needed some help to start walking, even more support to wear the armor that I had been given by Marcus and… I can’t even describe the nightmare-like process of getting onto the horse’s saddle.


    In the end of what had been quite the complicated debate to face so early in the morning, I ended up riding that dark-furred horse that was quietly waiting for something to happen.


    There were other ‘knights’ standing just a few meters behind where I was, their horses as calm as mine while we waited the arrival of the enemy forces.


    A mixed group of pikemen and archers were divided in two forces by each side, while the rest of the defending force had been split in two large brigades that were keeping watch within the forest sections in front of the city.


    While a well-planned charge of cavalry was going to prove devastating for the strained invaders that were making their way there, it wouldn’t have been enough to shatter their ranks to an acceptable degree to grasp victory.


    This is why there were traps between the defensive positions and the steps to reach those, rendering the entire path a minefield for the incoming attackers.


    Once the damaged force arrived to make sight with my task force and I ordered the beginning of the frontal assault, the rest of the army was to convey and crash on the unsuspecting behind of the German invaders.


    I was incredibly uneasy, unfairly tired by the sore body that I was supposed to deal with and… with the fact that the silence was filling me with never-ending doubts over the success of this simple plan.


    It should work. Technically, this was the first time ever that the armies of this period experienced something like this rudimentary combined arms doctrine.


    Albeit not as balanced as it would have been for William of Normandy because of the lack of more preparation and numbers, the flexibility of the group under my command made it possible to counter any surprises that was now lurking in that force.


    I had asked to Altuos one last time before leaving the castle what were the chances of encountering some magic-users in the enemy frontline and he repeated for the umpteenth time that there was a non-negligible possibility… but one that saw the sorcerers chained and used as tools more than willing soldiers in their ranks.


    It was somewhat a positive discovery since I was now aware that the morale of this worrying group was going to be the lowest once the traps were sprung.


    It didn’t take too long for this to happen as, while the birds flying around were still chirping and the soft English breeze was keeping my body tense and irked, everyone was alarmed by the distinct noises of multiple explosions being set off.


    Some light started to appear from deeper in the foliage, urging everyone to muster up their guarded stances as the battle was soon to begin.


    I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a proper look of the approaching force and… I was surprised by what started to come out from the forest.


    When I had initially planned the amount of bombs that had to be commissioned, when I made a supposition of the numbers that I was about to truly face, I had completely taken off a very important variable from my difficult calculus.


    The mortality of the traps I ordered to set up.


    When one thinks of medieval times, they either imagine some people ripping off Roman-based armors and weapons or people donning rudimentary knightly equipment.


    Yet I had completely forgotten that I was facing a ‘no-name’ Barbaric tribe that was made by mercenaries with little protection to defend against the multitude of explosions they had set off in their early approach.


    I could count a dozen or two of survivors slowly making their way towards us, but only a handful looked to be battle-ready.


    I… I might have exaggerated.


    This simple and childish thought was the only summary I could get out from that troubled turmoil within my mind, my brain and stomach trying to make sense of the sheer brutality that were resulting from the traps and…


    Some of the footed infantry was already giving up the content of their breakfast at the mutilated victims of the mines that were lying around the path.


    The remaining force was shell-shocked and terribly frightened, but their worries seemed to triple when they noticed the band of knights and militiamen waiting for them to get closer.


    They stopped, their leader seemingly looking as nervous as furious while he continued to shout fiercely at the hooded figure that was standing beside him.


    While one of the man’s hand was holding the battle-axe by his right shoulder, the other one was pulling at the chain connected to the metallic collar around the slender figure’s neck.


    A sorcerer.


    I took grasp of the horse’s reins and pushed the animal to finally advance towards the survivors of the traps, the rest of the retinue following shortly after with a moderate pace.


    The more I got closer to the area where the group was trying to make their last stand, the more I could hear the annoying shouts of the surviving leader getting louder and louder.


    The figure was now shivering, visibly terrified by what was happening as they were dropped on the floor by a sudden slap, forcing their hood to move away and…


    Reveal quite the odd sight.


    While I could get behind the fact that magic existed in medieval ages, that there was truly a Morgan le Fay and possibly a King Arthur, I certainly couldn’t make head of the appearances of the newly-revealed woman.


    Her robes were tattered, signs of violence presented by some bruises on her pale face that was just a hint or two darker than the pearly-white hair she had.


    She was glancing away from her captor and staring in my direction in an unfocused stare.


    She had red eyes.





    I mustered some effort to keep myself from facepalming with how in pain I still was, but goddamn this wasn’t just something I could directly stomach without some massive questions.


    Odd hair and eye-color was sign of something one could see in Anime. It was rare to find fantasy titles with human beings having this kind of elements… but I’ve met nobody else sharing any strange feature compared to the average individual.


    Heck, even the barbarians looked like the standard mix of vikings and tribal Germans with no peculiar oddity in their styles and appearances.


    I shook my head at the development, trying to return my attention to the ‘battlefield’, only noticing now that the chief of the tribal force had now lifted his battle-axe well over his head and was preparing to kill the sorceress trying to crawl away from him.


    My breath itched at my throat, my frown steeling as I carefully yanked at the reins to have the horse increase its pace.


    A quick neigh preceded a sudden intensification of the animal’s pace and I felt trembling a little at the new speed, while my right hand removed Crocea Mors from its sheath.


    My rush was followed by the chorus of ‘Deus Vult’s as the rest of the group behind me started to charge at the band of survivors.


    The rest of the invaders looked quite horrified by this predicament, turning tail and rushing back in the forest… only to freeze up as they noticed the two approaching forces coming from behind.


    They were surrounded by my army, ready to surrender or be slaughtered by the meatgrinder… all except the leader that seemed to be more focused on the magician.


    Ignoring her confusing looks, I found myself debating why would the young woman not attack us if she was threatened to do so.


    Why wouldn’t she do that if her life was put on the line?


    The horse rammed onto the mad-driven barbarian, forcing him away from concluding the downward arch directed to the shivering white-haired lady.


    He yelped, a mix of pain and panic as he was slammed onto the ground, dropping the axe in the process.


    I proceeded to carefully slip down from the saddle and on the floor, Crocea Mors lowered and pointed at the recovering Barbarian.


    “Y-You will regret attacking me! M-My father-”


    “Is not here to compensate for your lacking performance,” I interrupted sassily, the stress of my bandages urging me to take a less diplomatic approach. “Surrender or die.”


    “N-Never! I-I will never allow you to-”


    I didn’t do anything to maim him, yet the leader was either too furious or too stupid to recognize the blade poised over him as he literally…


    Lunged into it.


    I tensed up at the scene, his eyes going wide at the cold realization of what he had just done, slowly crumbling to the floor once again.


    “Y-You- B-But he said that- that I was going to be- to be King!-!!”


    A sordid thud signaled the end of his life, my silent expression deafening my entire experience of my first kill.


    This wasn’t a dummy, nor the golem I had obliterated yesterday…


    This was a human being. A scummy human being, but still a life.


    I slowly retracted the golden-silver sword out of his chest, letting his body fully fall on the floor as I turned my attention at the blood liquid staining the texture of Crocea Mors.


    It wasn’t jam, it wasn’t some special effect. This was blood, real blood.


    I felt my lungs aching a little bit, the attempt to hyperventilate at the sight and realization of what I’ve just done was… starting to get me fairly uneasy, if not squeamish.


    The noise of men fighting left and right, with none of the knights loyal to me falling against the highly-demoralized troops, was rendered bubbly and incomprehensible as I carefully felt my sight drawn back to the young sorceress now staring at me and… holding her hands in a prayer.


    She was shivering, tears were rolling off her cheeks and… I was unsure what to do about her.


    She was dangerous, there was no reason to believe otherwise, yet she hadn’t attacked the retinue, nor did she try to help her captors around with the ongoing battle.


    I blinked, my eyes lost in quite the glowing pair of red orbs.


    And then I sighed.


    I blame you for making me this sensible to women, cousin John. I hope you are cursed with infinite paperwork.


    -----------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d-------------


    I think the little curse backfired, but I guess I should have been expecting to be forced to face some paperwork before the planned celebrations.


    Everyone, from the simple inhabitants within the city and the soldiers that took part in this ‘not-so’ glorious battle, were quick to chant victory over the horde of invaders that had been vanquished from ever threatening the peace of the city-castle.


    Yay, no more pro- Oh right, there were still problems.


    While I had been glad myself of having achieved a victory, albeit one as empty as this one, I still just got some more time to think, plan and improve my fief to stand up to the other issues riddling the isles.


    There was also a newer problematic debacle created by the little choice I had to make as the battle drew to an end.


    The sorceress had been safely escorted to some secure quarters where she will be monitored for a week or two by the Magus Guild in the effort of getting some information out of her.


    While she had been just an unwilling participant of this brief conflict and I vouched for her harmlessness, her presence did more than just stir some nervousness from the people living in the castle.


    Felicianus was quite irritated, terribly confused and highly-annoying in what had seemed to be an effort to do an ‘appeal to reason’.


    At this point, I’m not even sure if reason is still viable with the crap I’m supposed to deal with. Magic, anime-like girls… what’s next? Gandalf?


    I almost snorted at the fact that Altuos did count as a ‘Gandalf’, but my brain was just so embroiled by the content of the various orders, edicts and decrees that were there to be proclaimed now that I had the victory I needed to levy some legitimacy over the villages located nearby Londinium.


    The process was going to be a slow one for sure, but now that I was free to move some troops around to free the path to the still-isolated settlements, I was sure that success was now a matter of time.


    Recovery was a must, while expansion further in the unoccupied lands was going to be the prime objective for the first few years.


    If I wanted to avoid the issues of overpopulation that were soon going to plague the isles, I needed to create more villages and cities to house the large number of people that was still fleeing from mainland Europe.


    I was close to fall asleep on that wooden chair, ready to get some nap going before dealing with the ‘duties as a victorious King’ for the ceremony planned to happen by lunch.


    Was I irritated that I would have to give some speeches about what happened today, while also appearing to be as gleeful and happy as everyone else in Londinium?


    A little bit. But I guess it is more of a fear-induced complication than anything based on true annoyance.


    I still had to plan out how exactly should I get the remains of those that had died by the traps out from the forest’s roads around the city.


    The bill sure was going to be a tall one from what I felt was going to be the number of dead people lingering there.


    Just as I prepared to take a nap on that sturdy chair I was resting by, my attention was caught by the distinct sound of someone knocking by the door.


    I glanced at it and sighed.


    “Come in.”


    Altuos didn’t wait for more as he opened the door, stepping inside before closing it behind himself.


    “Your highness, I see that you are stressing yourself already despite the fact I had told you not to,” The elder chided quietly as he proceeded to take several steps toward the desk, taking a seat by one of the free chairs in front of me.


    “I’m trying to keep some bad thoughts out,” I hummed tiredly. “I’m not exactly finding complete relief by this victory-”


    “Death is an acceptable part of war,” The old man muttered in return. “It’s a sad element, but a necessary one considering how trying these times are.”


    “I thought that there were going to be much more- yet I can’t just- I can’t understand why there were so few remaining from that early ambush.”


    “Perhaps you have forgotten that we aren’t facing a true nation, but a conglomerate of thieves, raiders and other horrible criminals that have little in common in each other… but the sinful manner they go with their lives,” Altuos pointed out with a sigh. “It wouldn’t be difficult to see them… split apart in not-so friendly ways.”


    I blinked at his words, leaning by back right to the chair as I pondered over his reasoning.


    The tribes had little cohesion between one another and this wasn’t certainly a coordinated invasion that had a central leadership and some trustworthy armies.


    It could be possible that they just… broke apart the moment their leader decided to go through this march towards Londinium.


    The sureness in his voice while he died upon my blade was… concerning.


    It sounded just too certain, as if he was aware that there had been more than a good chance of winning this battle without difficulties.


    But why? Why he had felt so sure about it despite the lack of numerical superiority that he had lost with this rushed advance?


    “Maybe he got deceived by a doubtful mirror,” The elder hummed while looking at my face, my expression morphing in one of surprise at his guess at my inner question. “I admit it was a surprise when I first interviewed the frightened child but… she is truly an admirable individual.”





    “Truly?”


    “Quite so,” Altuos confirmed with a nod. “Not only she is unique with her peculiar nature of human and homunculus, but her propensity to use the Third Magic is-”


    “H-Hold up, homunculus?” I interrupted with this swift inquiry, catching the old man off-guard for a few moments.


    Like FMA’s Homunculus kind of stuff? Was I going to have to ask some moral background before continuing this conversation?


    “I suppose the term is quite unusual, but I can assure you that her connection to the word is fairly limited if not offensive considering her complex humanity and rare predicament,” The old man assured with a sigh. “In fact, I think her only inhuman traits are her eyes, her hair and… her propensity over the Heaven’s Feel.”





    “Can you elaborate on this Heaven’s… Feel?” I asked with a confused tone.


    From a sense of disgust, I found myself facing an odd situation of innuendos.


    She did look pretty gorgeous when I first saw her, maybe a little malnourished but… there was no way he was alluding to…


    That.


    “The Third Magic, one of the known five originals and… the most sought by many greedy men,” Altuos pointed out with a tired sigh. “The capacity to extend the life of a soul beyond the death of the body, to allow the perfect survival of such a vital part of one’s life to achieve true immortality.”


    Oh, that sounded less perverted and more worrying if I had to be honest.


    Seriously, why was this a thing and… why didn’t the man that led the banner against Londinium didn’t use her for that?


    While I was unsure over what he might have planned to do by lashing out at the sorceress, I wonder why he didn’t just-


    “She can’t use it, of course,” The old man continued with a hum. “She hadn’t been taught to make use of her magic. And… I would say that her former captor failed to grasp such a simple detail.”


    ...You got to be kidding me.


    You mean to tell me that he just… he just missed the fact that she was not only limited to make use of that peculiar and highly-limited magic but he also failed to notice that she can’t do spells?


    My sadness was turning in mocking pity at this point, the more I realized how much of an idiot the man I killed was.


    “Still, did she tell you- Actually, what is her name?” I inquired with a hint of curiosity. “I forgot to ask early on but-”


    “Mya,” The Magus leader interrupted quietly. “Her full designation was ‘Myasviel’, but she prefers the name ‘Mya’ to it.”


    I blinked. “Designation?”


    “She was still created by some disciples of the last Magician of the Third Magic. Her and many more of her ‘kin’,” The elder explained calmly. “They call themselves… ‘Einzbern’. After the place where the first Homunculus was conceived.”


    “So they are not made by ‘natural’ means. I mean, there is no daddy and mommy going for-”


    “N-No,” Altuos interrupted with some red on his face at the blunt query. “They receive skin, soul and humanity via magic. Their growths varies between the various specimen… but from my understanding Mya was the only one to be allowed to have a regular lifespan.”


    “That means she isn’t three or something like right?”


    I don’t want to deal with the FBI for just moving her around for the guards to take her to her newest accommodations.


    “Indeed. I would say she is… nineteen right now.”


    “That’s pretty young to be enslaved by the tribes,” I commented quietly. “How exactly did she end up under their control?”





    “She… has yet to tell us about this,” Altuos admitted with some embarrassment. “We avoided pressuring her too much as we feel like there is some trauma, a bad experience that got her to refuse to give out this kind of information.”


    “Yet she was happy enough to dispense this much information.” I mused out-loud, pondering over this little obstacle behind the full understanding of this individual. “I suppose there is a reason behind this open acceptance of giving out this much about herself.”


    The old man blinked, a small smile appearing on his face at my words… causing me to frown.


    “What?” I asked curtly, getting a nod from him.


    “Mya has been asking about you, your highness,” The elder replied quietly. “More about your conditions. She mentioned about seeing some bandages over your armor, and she has mentioned having served as a temporary healer for her former lord’s house.”


    So she had experience in working in a castle? Probably she had been affiliated to some Latin fief that had survived the barbaric waves shattering Rome’s control over Europe.


    Maybe that’s where she was actually captured, when the fief she lived in was taken over.


    And- wait, what?


    “I can understand the classic healer’s worry… but why she asked about me if she knows I’m the king?”


    “Perhaps she was fascinated by your chivalrous mannerism,” Altuos mirthfully proposed, snorting as I frowned at him. “It would be quite ‘deceiving’ for a maiden when she is treated so regally by a king.”


    “It was the only way possible?”


    “You could have asked for one from your retinue to help her back to the castle, to be treated as a good prisoner instead of a war one,” He shot back quietly, drawing a huff from me.


    “There is no other motivations other than doing the right thing,” I said while trying to appear the calmest if not the most serious possible.


    “Not that I was implying otherwise, your Highness, but people can start quite the conversations about this curious topic. Maybe you should visit Mya’s room to dismiss such claims.”


    “Wouldn’t that intensify the chances of rumors spreading, Altuos?” I probed with a frown right at the amused old man.


    “Perhaps,” He replied back with a sigh. “Or maybe you will end up having someone else to talk to instead of bemoaning to someone like me.”


    Was he trying to say that I was being too whiny? Was that sass I was feeling from the old man?


    “But alas, I think we should focus on… the speech you should deliver by lunch,” Altuos said to switch the conversation to a newer topic. “I assume that you have something to say-”


    “No.”





    “I assume it was the battle, and not the fact you have been wasting time with this new paperwork that was meant to be done tomorrow, your Highness,” He said with a mock-hopeful voice, getting a tired groan out of me.


    “I’m not good at speeches.”


    “I find myself opposing this false certainty, milord,” The elder pressed on. “While I can provide you with some keywords to use to improvise, I wish for you to at least try to write down something for the next victory.”


    I blinked at his words, kind of surprised at how much our relationship had turned into this friendly bantering.


    I shrugged. “I will give it a try… hopefully, I will not achieve a second victory before dinner. My mind wouldn’t handle that.”


    “While I do see the signs of a good monarch, I will refrain from consider you someone this much… lucky with successes.”


    Oh Altuos, you sassy old man with wizard powers.


    -------------d-d-d-d------------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d---------


    AN


    Made a little reference to another story I’m writing, have fun finding it and… yeah, we got an Einzbern in.


    But why is there an Einzbern when they aren’t meant to-? The Einzbern family as… family became a thing in the 14th century, but it’s confirmed that the original Einzberns were homunculi made by the disciples of the Magician of the Third Magic.


    While they weren’t as resilient as the ones made post-Justeaze models, their unique trait is their grasp over the Third Magic… which Mya is currently incapable of using because she was never taught about it.


    Will she learn about it? Maybe, or maybe not. Depends on the mood.


    Another change to the story as in the original draft Myasviel was a knight (which was horribly crackish as an excuse to introduce an Einzbern) and now she is a pseudo-sorceress. Don’t expect her to fight Morgan on a fair 1v1 and win, she doesn’t know much about magic and she isn’t capable of reaching Morgan’s level (being that the woman is a fairy/dark spirit kind of gal).


    Lastly, while this was the conclusion of the imminent Tribal threat, the rest of the barbarians are still on the isles and… they will be dealt with in due time.


    Next chapter will have some world-building with some map-making (I will work on something, I do have the means to achieve that and it will be available in the forums only since the FFN system doesn’t allow any medias).


    P.S. I’m also reworking ‘Fate Last Heaven’, now with more spice, explosive and more dramatic shenanigans!
     
    Last edited: Mar 17, 2020
  15. MasterOfDragonsGod

    MasterOfDragonsGod Connoisseur.

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    I'm loving this story keep it up.
     
    JBukharin likes this.
  16. davelll

    davelll Not too sore, are you?

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  17. GodSpeed

    GodSpeed NiceGuys dont always finish last---unless it's NTR

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    Does the MC not know about the Fate franchise?
    And can you add the pictures of the characters?
     
  18. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    After some pondering, I've decided to add images to the various characters, objects and stuff that are mentioned in this story. For now, since I can find only those, I've put a proper picture of Morgan and one for Crocea Mors. (Chapter 3 and 2 exactly.)

    Sadly, I can't provide images for the other non-canon/OC characters as I can't draw and yeah. If anyone wants to offer some attempts, I would be more than happy to evaluate if use those or not. If not they will still be uploaded as fanart/media for this story with proper crediting and all of that.

    (P.S. I actually am not in need of images, but I know that fellow readers would find it easier to visualize stuff and people I'm describing. There isn't any urge, need for me to ask for this as I'm just a writer, but that kind of support will not be ignored/denied.)
     
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  19. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Nope. And this has been mentioned for two-three chapters now.

    I can add pictures where I can add pictures. Morgan and Crocea Mors have their images now.
     
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  20. Lone Wolf 666

    Lone Wolf 666 Not too sore, are you?

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    Since magic exist and whatnot. Maybe create some sort of order that protect mankind from things that go bump in the night. Three team members consisting of a mage, priest/ nun, and knight. Assuming you square everything else. Call it whatever, than add a secret intelligent branch.:D
     
  21. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    It's a possibility.
     
  22. JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Added Myasviel's own image in last chapter.
     
    MasterOfDragonsGod likes this.
  23. MasterOfDragonsGod

    MasterOfDragonsGod Connoisseur.

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    Thanks for your hard work.
     
  24. AllyDoodle

    AllyDoodle Lewd Cthulhu

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    When the MC meets Altira (of he does of course) maybe he can convince her to confine their 'battles' to the bedroom.

    Another plus would be it will avoid the whole sorry mess with Lancelot and Gyn.
     
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  25. Lady Godiva

    Lady Godiva Getting sticky.

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    this story is quite splendid. Finding Self Inserts set in the past is quite....difficult. I certainly enjoy the more historical aspects of this SI over elements taken from Fate.
     
  26. Threadmarks: Chapter 5: Restoring the Kingdom (1)
    JBukharin

    JBukharin Signer of the Totalist Charter

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    Chapter 5: Restoring the Kingdom (1)


    Two days had gone by peacefully once the first attack was repelled.


    While I had been wary of any followups from the invasion force since I was sure that I had slain the son of some major chief during that fight, I found myself blessed with quite the development I hadn’t seen in the short-term of the war.


    The Saxons, despite holding a large chunk of territories after months of waging wars against the former counties ruling there, had failed to secure an alliance with the impressive kingdom sited in the north.


    The Kingdom of the Lothian, known to many Latin students as the Realm of the Picts, was considered the proper predecessor of Scotland.


    Despite the lack of proper unity to create a full-fledged nation that could have easily swept the rest of England under its control, the country was still strong enough to poise some troubles to the invading force.


    The barbarians knew this, in fact my strong suspicions of a war having erupted in the mean time was confirmed by the news coming from the eastern coast as those gave details about numerous skirmishes having broken out between the two great forces.


    Very good, but also very bad as it meant that if the Saxons lost to the Lothians, I was going to deal with the fact I would have to face someone far angrier and bigger to get the coastal zones back under control.


    So I was pressed on planning things quickly and without wasting too much time in unimportant activities.


    With the army still intact and ready to go for other battles, I decided that the main priority was to get the free territories consolidated under the direct control of Londinium.


    There was no way I was going to try my hands at subjugating beyond the petty kingdoms in the area, knowing full well that some of the other claimants were still too difficult to change right now.


    Kent was dealing with the invasion as a frontline region just like Londinium, but it had some support from the Roman presence in Normandy which made an invasion from my part not only unsuccessful but also quick to backfire since ‘Rome’ backed them.


    The Welsh countries were embroiled in as much of a civil war as was Dumnonia.


    Speaking of this last country, I had heard some unpleasant news about Vortigern having gone as far as tap in dark magic. Nothing concrete but certainly worrying if he decided to harass other nations while fighting against Arthur.


    Still, I didn’t stay idle in those few days and I decided to start with some diplomacy.


    Messengers were dispatched quickly the moment the morning of the day after the battle had struck, their objectives clear to them as they traveled all over to the various settlements located in the west of the city.


    I had concluded that the biggest issue to deal would have been the pseudo-aristocracy that had taken over some of the major towns, as I knew that they would bargain for more rewards instead of completely submitting to my rule out of respect.


    Yet I was keen to mind the fact that minor villages were still lacking a proper guide to follow in this chaotic period, and the victory we had achieved would spread out faster with the arrival of the messengers in these places.


    My latter assumption was proven correct when the numerous young men and, surprisingly enough considering the age I was now living in, women had decided to flock at the opportunity of fresh and highly-paid jobs here in Londinium when they followed back some of the messengers.


    They were coming from the nearby villages, thus the travel-time by foot ended up being a mere trip of some hours to reach the settlements and back in most of the instances.


    Some of the couriers were still away from completing their works, but I was hopeful that they would end up bringing the same degree of success as the one I was assisting back there.


    Many were orphans, but a large majority was made by people that wanted to be close to taste some of the glorious success that was now present within the capital of the region.


    I had to be careful in properly dividing them in groups, knowing that I couldn’t just conscript them all in the army and that there were plenty of positions that could be filled with the proper people.


    The women ended up splitting between working as ‘assistants’ to the soup kitchens in the city and joining the small merchants guild in the city.


    With the threat of war being an ever-present thing, many influential merchants had left the city in the last few decades, and only a handful of people had remained to make up the current guild.


    When the leader was summoned to talk about this matter, he had gone ecstatic over the opportunity of expanding the group once again, but he was keen enough to listen up to my advice over teaching their new recruits instead of sending them to work already as they lacked the experience and the knowledge to do a good one.


    The men ended up splitting in more groups.


    Some joined the army much to Commander Marcus’ delight, others found themselves attracted by the mysteriousness of the Magus Guild, and the remaining few were sent to pursue a religious career.


    There was a minority that decided to try out their luck in the Builders Guild, bolstering the already-strong group with a dozen of recruits.


    Speaking of building stuff, my plans didn’t just settle for diplomacy and military, but also for inward expansion and some effort to address some concerning economic problems.


    Bandits were still a dreadful problem that was crippling the resources coming from the nearby farms.


    With some of the workers having retreated back to their old properties, something unique had happened when I listened to the most recent case of assault.


    These farmers were allowed to bring with them their swords as they made return to their homes, granting them the chances of defending themselves in case of ambushes.


    And it did happen as suspected.


    Thieves, murderers and much worse had decided to prepare some ambushes all over the territory and render the passage either limited by a toll or outright impossible for anyone that wasn’t in their group.


    Fairly annoying, yet the thing that truly caught me off-guard was how some of the soldiers had decided to react.


    Having been present to the briefings detailing the battleplan that had been meant to the battle while also understanding the importance of keeping an eye out for any suspicious situations, all of them managed to survive the encounters they had been subjected to, sometime even killing the troublemakers in the process.


    It was this repeating case that led me to understand that the best way to counter this criminals… was by having some local soldiers actively pursuing them.


    They would work outside of the standard rules of the army, their job fitting best with what modern police was as they would directly hunt down any scum tainting the land.


    I was very careful to present this idea to Marcus, but the men seemed to accept the logic behind splitting this group away from the army as a whole.


    It would still take some time to make sure the task force was ready to go through the long-term plan I had been styling for some time, but I was sure that something impressive could be done with patience and logical thinking.


    Yet the hard-work was far from over. In fact, this was just the beginning.


    Taxation had to be reworked, simplified, and focused on the idea of fixing the rates to the income of the different social classes.


    The Church received an exemption as I had promised, while the rest of the people was granted relief in the form of the ‘low’ taxes I had applied to the set of laws I was progressively building up from scratch.


    Yes, I had some ideas from various constitutions I had studied in the past few years and I did implement a mix of important rules coming from some of those, but the basis of the law all came from my mind alone.


    The Magna Carta was still a far sight and I didn’t need to have some nobility trying to impose their own will to veto my reforms.


    The idea of a parliament floated around for some time, but I ultimately decided to postpone the creation of one because of how cumbersome things would get if I had also to reform current politics.


    It was planned, but I just couldn’t afford to spend too much effort into it with how many issues I still had to deal with.


    The next subject was the agricultural sector as a whole.


    With farmers returning home to make sure their cultivations and livestock hadn’t been lost because of lack of activity at their property, I decided to give them some suggestions in making their land’s productivity increase with modern means.


    I explained them in a reunion I had with the farmers by the gates of Londinium how Crop rotation and selective breeding worked, and how those were going to improve the quality and quantity of their products.


    Some were skeptical about my explanation, but they seemed to accept my words as true just by my important title.


    It was annoying, but at least I was able to get half of the British Agricultural Revolution going several centuries early on.


    Finally, the last topic for these turbulent days was the modernization of the current weaponry the army could afford to get.


    Lances, swords, and pikes weren’t going to be enough with the needs for any plans for a quick conquest of the British Isles and I sure knew how to bring up a proper advantage to my current military force.


    I needed guns, and while I was aware that I wasn’t going to get any assault rifles anytime soon, I could still start trying out some little experiments before actually surrendering this idea to a latter time.


    Reaching out for a group of blacksmiths and Magi, I decided to try with something I felt incredibly unsure of replicate with what little techniques was available to them to create things from metal.


    I didn’t have the resources to afford the construction of cannons, this reality settling the moment I had noticed how lacking the availability of bronze and other metals that could be used to best satisfy the requirements to built a full-fledged artillery division.


    Which is why, instead of lamenting the inability to have loud cannons to aid my army, I decided to shift my attention to something far crazier but surprisingly easier to accomplish with the means allowed by the world’s current understanding of metal-working.


    Instead of giving out the instructions of the final product, I decided to divide the squad in the completion of various tasks, each being essential for the realization of the grandiose and incredibly devious plan I had concocted.


    It was more because the individual works were difficult already for the group, and I had dreaded at what kind of madness would have come out from a full explanation.


    It took them a full day to get all their objectives completed and the pieces well-inserted together to create… my victory ace.


    It was early in the morning of the second day that I decided to give a proper run of the little thing that was now resting by my back thanks to some rope, and I had called Marcus and some of his trusted men to assist at the presentation of the gun.


    The Commander was confused as to how a stick made with iron and wood would have been able to kill anyone without something to stab people with and… I didn’t answer to that.


    I merely grinned, while putting on the rudimentary scope I had built for this occasion.


    Some targets, empty sacks filled with dirt and mud, had been set several meters away from where we were standing, the hill I had picked being far enough from the city’s ear-sight as I began the test.


    Taking aim, I let my chest tense up while my lungs carefully regulated my breathing as I took the first shot.


    Bang.


    Then the second.


    Bang.


    Then the-


    Bang.


    Bang.


    Bang.


    Bang.


    Bang.


    Bang-


    Ka-chink!


    The cartridge properly left its former location, and I took it in my right hand as I stared at the results.


    The sacks had been punctured right where I had aimed, leaving me with a happy smile while I turned back to the soldiers and… they looked back at me with a shocked look.


    “What the fuck was that?!” Marcus barked in utter surprise, his tone a mix of minor panic and giddiness at the resulting effects of my test.


    I stared down at the little thing that was going to be mine from now on and I nodded.


    “This is the future of war, Marcus,” I hummed quietly while putting the rifle back by my shoulders. “And it will be the first step of many to see a full unification.”


    “Y-your majesty, that was… that was absurd. What is the name of such a powerful artifact?” One of the soldiers inquired in utter awe.


    I blinked, looking again at the targets as dirt continued to leave through the holes that the sacks were now sporting.


    “This is a rifle,” I finally answered calmly.


    “This could change everything, Kingly,” The leader admitted with barely-veiled interest. “If we equip this to our bowmen they will-”


    “Be left without much of a thing to use considering how ‘expensive’ this thing is,” I concluded with a sad sigh. “The current reserves of the resources needed to produce this weapon are already low as they are, and we can’t yet mass-produce them with how slow-paced the blacksmiths are with some of the objects contained within it.”


    A frown appeared on the older man’s face and then he groaned. “You mean to tell me that you got us to see you use your newest toy, Kingly? That can save some men’s lives-”


    “And it will,” I interjected with an annoyed huff, “But it will not be through multiple of those… but rather specialists that can use the rifles in the best manner possible. Which is why I will call a competition among archers and grant ten of these guns to the winners.”


    His eyes glinted realization at my explanation. “You want to give those to the men that are best capable of using them… by having archers prove who is their best bunch.”


    I nodded and sighed. “Still, I think it will take much more to truly unify the isles,” I admitted quietly. “Rifles can do so much-”


    “And that is why there are swords to use, Kingly,” Marcus piped in eagerly, almost grinning for some strange reason. “Why, I think that now we can anticipate today’s lesson with… a little run back to the castle.”


    I frowned a little at his words, but then I noticed the commander giving a knowing look at his men and then back at me…


    I realized far too quickly what he was talking about and I started to bolt the moment they all took a step towards me.


    Legs rushing fiercely away from my chasers, I felt my lungs burn up a little at the marathon I had to go through.


    All the while listening to the chuckles coming right behind me as I continued to run towards the castle’s gates.


    My God, I’m hating this bastard a lot!


    ------------d-d-d-d-------------d-d-d-d---------------d-d-d-d-----------d-d-d-d-------


    After concluding this ‘little exercise’ with Marcus and returning back to my room to store the rifle and the used cartridge in one of the unused chests, I proceeded to go right to enjoy some pleasant dinner.


    Reaching the large dining hall, I was greeted by several nobles that had already taken seat by the large table as I walked right up to where my chair was.


    Taking a calm seat near to where Felicianus was, I started to enjoy some of the warm and delicious meal that one of the servants had prepared for me.


    I was barely paying attention at the words being given by the bishop as he decided to go again with retelling how things have been going for the Church up until now, something that had become quite a habit for the leader of Christianity here in Londinium.


    May it be lunch or dinner, may it be things that I was already aware about or new stuff, the man would giddily engage in quite the lengthy narration about what had happened that very day.


    Altuos had given me a couple of advices to deal with this, stating that keeping a calm mind and merely ignore him would have been more than enough to avoid killing my brain with that boring instances while also dodging any unpleasant developments from replying badly to the bishop.


    Yet as I paused mid-bite at about half the content of my plate, I noticed that someone was actually absent.


    I turned to the unoccupied chair that was usually taken by Altuos and… blinked.


    The elder would usually be there at this point, and if he had something keeping him busy he would have sent some message back to me about skipping the meal.


    But no one had told me about any known delays from the head of the Magus Guild.


    I blinked, perplexity bubbling deeply in my chest as I evaluated any issues that could have gotten the old man stuck with some assignments, perhaps something that made him unable to contact people for some time.


    Still, how odd.


    I finished lunch quietly and, once I was done with my meal, I proceeded to bid a good day to Felicianus, the Church’s representative seemingly accepting my quick departure as I quickly went to see where Altuos could have been at that very moment.


    I went around the quarters where the Magi lived, greeting a few of them as they calmly went through with their usual tasks while I walked right where the elder’s office was.


    The room was silent, there was no one inside and… that was starting to get me a little bit worried.


    My search stretched all over the castle as I tried to check in all rooms where the old man could have been, wandering around mostly-aimlessly as I tried to find the elusive Magus.


    About twenty minutes later, I found myself returning back on my steps, checking back for a couple more times the places I had already looked by and… I was confused.


    This was the first time I had to deal with the elder disappearing so suddenly as he would usually be around in places where other people are crowding by… or at least somewhere in the castle.


    I took a moment to rest for a moment, my legs still trying to recover from the unfair marathon I had to go through and I started to notice that a group of guards patrolling the castle were chuckling about something.


    It wasn’t the first time during my search that I saw some amused people walking around… but this situation was starting to spread around far too much with people chuckling and giggling about something.


    Was I missing something or perhaps it was just a massive coincidence?


    I merely shrugged to myself as I continued to look around for any clues where Altuos might have gone, finding this new situation less important considering that the elder going missing was far more important than any fun scenes.


    It was about after ten more minutes of pacing in the halls that I finally heard one of the amused guards walking around mutter something.


    “To think that… Lord Altuos could be so grandfatherly,” The young-looking fellow said slowly to his older teammate, the second guard nodding while his lips twitched in what seemed to be an effort to keep his smile down.


    I stopped and glanced at the two.


    “Excuse me, you two,” I mused quietly, getting both soldiers to pause and give me a proper salute the moment they noticed whom had stopped them.


    “Y-Your Majesty, we didn’t see you and-”


    “There’s no need to apologize,” I interjected quickly, a serious glint filtering in my voice and drawing them to a tense posture. “You two were talking about Lord Altuos, and I wish to know where he is right now.”


    The two shared a strange look and then the oldest gulped nervously as the youngest continued.


    “W-We can tell you where he is right now… but we feel like you should see by yourself what he’s doing.”


    “My fellow guard is just saying that it would be ‘funnier’ if you checked on your own,” The oldest reiterated appeasingly. “You will find him where the white-haired woman is.”


    I frowned at the confusing discussion, trying to make sense about what I’ve just heard but… I shrugged and, after saluting the guards, I marched right where Myasviel’s room was.


    More giggles and chuckles equaled to more confusion and suspicions about what was going on in that room and I prepared myself to brace for the worst scenario possible.


    The path to reach the place was fairly short, but the tension was palpable just as I took the final steps towards the door.


    There were two guards standing there as usual, but they looked fairly giddy about something as one of them was glancing inside the room with an amused look.


    I blinked as I moved stealthily right to where these two were, avoiding getting caught by their sight as I positioned myself for some little fright.


    “He-hem?”


    The fake cough trick worked masterfully, both jumping in surprise as their panicking stares were now at me. Color drained from their faces as they saluted me stiffily.


    “Y-Your Highness- We didn’t mean to-”


    “At ease, both of you,” I interrupted with a groan. I was seriously starting to hate having to salute everyone here so formally and dully.


    I was the king, yes, but that didn’t mean that I had to be tortured like this so frequently!


    Was this how Emperor Palpatine felt while going through that escalator scene back in that Robot Chicken’s episode?


    “Okay, what is going on inside there?” I inquired with an annoyed tone, both looking fairly nervous and the two merely stared at me in silence.


    Like, they stopped working and for a moment I thought that I scared them to death.


    Barely credible as a possibility, but it was more me being far too upset about everything to even try and get them to speak properly.


    Instead of waiting for them to recover, I merely walked by the opening of the door and peeked inside.


    The room was small, but modest enough to accommodate a good bed, a small chair by the bedside and some shelves by one of the walls.


    I spotted Altuos sitting in the lone chair, in his lap a little book that he was reading out-loud while glancing at the young woman stuck in her bed.


    The white-haired young woman had a little piece of cloth pressed by her forehead, her red eyes glancing fixedly at the old man as he continued to talk to her.


    It took me a couple of seconds of listening to his words to understand that he was telling her… a fairy tale?


    Pondering over his familiar description, I felt more and more drawn to the source of this tale and then I realized that he was narrating the ‘Cicada and the Ant’ tale, coming close to conclude the fable.


    I waited patiently, listening as he went along with the last words of the tale and giving out the moral of the tale.


    I was indeed confused by the sight, but I could easily deduce that it had to do with the fact that Mya looked to be fairly sick from where I was looking by.


    Just as I thought how to properly enter in that simply endearing scene, my attention was caught by two red orbs now staring at me with a hint of curiosity and surprise.


    “H-Hello,” The soft voice of the woman emerged from the covers, getting a confused frown from the elder before I decided to reply back.


    “Hello there, Myasviel,” I responded calmly, this time causing Altuos to snap his sight back at me with utter surprise.


    “Y-Your Majesty-”


    “Don’t stand up,” I interrupted quietly as I took a step inside. “I suppose that’s what got you busy to miss lunch.”


    His eyes widened even more. “D-Did I truly forget? I guess I lost my perception of time by-” He stopped, glancing at the childishly-confused look coming from the white-haired girl. “I decided to spend some time watching over Myasviel since she is currently dealing with a light fever.”


    Aren’t fevers meant to be deadly in this period of time?


    I blinked at the explanation. “I understand and… I guess that Mya is appreciating your tale-telling.”


    The young woman giggled at my comment and gave a solid nod through her blankets, ignoring the little red flush appearing on the man’s face.


    “I-I was just-”


    “How about you go and get yourself a meal while I take over from here?” I inquired calmly, looking at the curiosity coming off from the white-haired magician’s eyes. “I have some of my own fairy tales I can spare if needed.”


    Her eyes lit up at the mentioning of new stories and she gave a quick nod at my direction.


    The elder frowned at my proposal, but nodded himself as he decided to trust me with this burden.


    “I suppose I can get some meal prepared and-” He paused for a moment as he stood up and moved towards the entrance, stopping right in front of me. “Your Majesty, your magecraft lesson is still at the same time.”


    “In an hour or so, I know that,” I added with a smile. “I will not miss it.”


    He smiled back before bidding a good day to both me and the feverish young woman, leaving me to deal with Mya.


    I slowly walked inside the room, glancing at the now empty chair for some time before actually sitting on it and glance back at the magician.


    The young woman was quietly humming in her warm covers, her eyes looking a little unfocused for a moment, causing me to worry a little about her conditions.


    “Is everything alright, Mya?”


    She blinked, focus slowly returning in her rubies as she glanced to the side where I was with a small smile.


    “Just a little tired,” The woman admitted quietly. “Is it… normal that it feels so hot there?”


    “You need to sweat a little to get your body to react to your fever,” I replied to her kindly. “But if it’s too much, I can move one of the blankets away.”


    The white-haired girl pondered over my comment, seemingly giving some weight about my words before shaking her head negatively.


    “I’m fine and...” Her smile widened. “Can you tell me a fairy tale?”


    I gave her a small snort and I started to slowly narrate the story of Cinderella to her. It was novelty for her, especially since the closest thing to modern fables were the one written by Greek-Latin writers and those were meant to just teach lessons of life.


    Cinderella and others were actually meant to just bring awe and relief to the listener, something that Mya much needed now that she was sick and in need of some comfort.


    It was truly a strange scene for sure, but the young woman was thoroughly enjoying the narration of Snow White and also Red Riding Hood.


    Yet it was as I concluded this last story that I found myself looking at her oddly, curious about what kind of secrets she was still holding from us all.


    “Can I ask you something, Mya?” The question came out of a flimsy thought, having little to truly ask specifically to the young woman, but the white-haired lady blinked and nodded.


    “Yes?” Her voice was frail, but she looked better than a couple of minutes earlier.


    Her face was now a healthier color, or at least how it did look back when I captured her and… her eyes were now showing more energy than before.


    “Are you happy?”





    “Uhm?”


    “I mean, ever since you were brought there, do you feel happy about the fact that-”


    “You are nice,” She interrupted quietly but with a kind voice, forcing me to silence for some moments.


    “I didn’t mean that-”


    “Sir Altuos said that I was your prisoner,” The young woman continued, ignoring my words. “But I always thought that being imprisoned was bad… yet this is nice. This isn’t as bad as a couple of days ago and… that means you are nice too, right?”


    That’s just horrible.


    I gulped down some nervousness, yet the sharp sensation coming from my chest at how distressing her words were was starting to get quite difficult to endure without showing some flinching from my part.


    No one should be glad to be put in this situation. Nobody should just be happy in being keep stuck in a single room.


    “Is that… so?” I poked once more, drowning a little uneasiness at the topic. “Are you truly happy?”


    “I am,” The young woman replied earnestly, a giggle following up. “In fact, I think being a prisoner was the best thing I could have hoped for.”


    This is so messed up...


    “No one should be glad to be a prisoner, Mya,” I retorted softly. “Bad people become prisoners and… the only reason you are here is because I think you weren’t as bad to be killed.”


    She blinked, keeping quiet for a couple of moments and then… she smiled.


    “I’m glad that you didn’t hurt me then,” The girl eagerly said, seemingly unaware of the horror growing on my face. “I suppose that I can be considered a ‘bad person’ too if it doesn’t mean getting hurt.”


    By God, she was… so intelligent and so naive. How the fuck I’m supposed to brave through this?


    I wasn’t prepared to face this kind of conversation so suddenly, and yet I was.


    “Mya,” I pressed on with some worried tone. “You are not a bad person.”


    “But I’m a prisoner, right?” She poked back. “So I’m also a bad person.”


    I closed my eyes, taking a moment to calm down a little at that unpleasant development.


    Usually, people that are prisoners are also bad,” I returned with a patient tone. “But you aren’t bad.”


    She blinked, then she nodded.


    “That’s nice, I suppose.”


    “Nobody is going to hurt you,” I continued with a calm voice, or at least I felt it being calm. Perhaps I was starting to crack a little, but I deluded myself of being fine with this circumstance.


    I had dealt with many things in my life, but to face a victim of slavery and abuse? This was a novelty I wasn’t sure how to move around without pressing any wrong buttons.


    I think I’ve already messed up here and there… but I felt the need to continue.


    “What they did to you was bad.”


    My statement got her to shuffle a little in her bed, her eyes gaining more focus onto me.


    “But why was that bad?”


    ...What?


    “It wasn’t right,” I replied quickly. “It wasn’t fair.”


    “But is the world supposed to be wrong and unfair?” Mya inquired softly, almost certain of the answer.


    And I was brought to a state of shocked silence.


    This just wasn’t the usual kind of conversations I was capable of going through without doubting about morality itself.


    The world was flawed, there was no doubt about it, but I always held the belief that things couldn’t just stumble so badly.


    And I was proven wrong. Again.


    But this time, I didn’t fell on my butt. I didn’t falter too much.


    “Yes,” I admitted with a sad tone. “But that doesn’t mean that people can’t try to make it right and fair.”


    She blinked, surprise swelling in her orbs. “Really?”


    I nodded. “I want to make the world a nicer place, Mya,” I continued with a smile. “That is why, when I looked at you that day… I saw a reason to brace forward.”


    “Brace… forward?”


    “I saw hope. A desperate glint that was trying to hold against that sea of sadness,” I replied calmly. “Everyone should be happy. Or at least those that wish for a peaceful life.”


    “I… deserve happiness too?” Something had changed in her tone, something had broken out in those words as she asked this.


    “Yes. Yes, you do.”





    She closed her eyes, her smile widening even more and the young woman displayed the brightest smile possible.


    “That’s really nice to know,” Mya stated happily. “Then I hope you will be happy yourself too.”


    I nodded at her, yet I didn’t continue from there as I slowly stood up from my chair and… glanced at the door.


    “Soon I will have my lesson with Altuos and,” I glanced down at her with a sad smile. “I will see that some medic look at your sickness. I want you to recover.”


    The girl nodded with an eager look on her face. “Now, I want that too myself.”


    My smile twitched happily as I took a step towards the entrance, but then I stopped again.


    “There is a nice garden here in the castle,” I pointed out lightly. “I suppose you could visit it once you are healthy again.”


    I looked back at her and she looked at me with some awe. “Is it pretty?”


    “One of the prettiest,” I concluded with a genuine nod, finally moving by the door and opening it. “I hope you stay well from now on, Mya.”


    She giggled as I closed the door behind me, leaving the room with a saddened look.


    I didn’t move from the door, standing for a couple of seconds to stare distractedly away as I thought about her words and-


    “Y-Your Majesty,” Someone nervously called to the side and… the guards.


    The two were now looking at me with some concern, clearly distressed by the posture I had assumed.


    “I want one of you two to go and bring a healer to check on the girl’s conditions,” I ordered quietly. “She is sick and requires medical assistance.”


    Both tensed at the demand, but none moved at my words.


    “Is- Is that prudent to-”


    “I will not ask again,” I interjected cooly. “She will have a healer to care for her illness.”


    They both nodded at the stern voice leaving my lips, and the bulkier decided to rush away as to find a free healer to bring to the room.


    I walked away once he was out of my sight, my attention moving elsewhere and away from the current reality as I ended up thinking about that odd conversation.


    It was the unnerving and distressing kind of odd, but also the enlightening and impressive one too.


    I was confused, yet now I had some resolution over everything.


    I thought about the Saxons, I thought about how many other people had to have been turned in slaves to be used in warfare or worse.


    Yet I was so sure of one thing after this discussion.


    Now I had a good personal reason to wage war against these bastards.


    -------------d-d-d-d---------------d-d-d-d---------------d-d-d-d------------


    AN


    Brutality can be born from innocence, and the broken shall be the wisest.
     
  27. Lone Wolf 666

    Lone Wolf 666 Not too sore, are you?

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    I thought it was a rifle musket he was making. Far more simple and easier to make. Plus maintaining it.
     
  28. Akuma-Heika

    Akuma-Heika The Devil Exists Within

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    Most of those Germanic tales also have lessons in them (at least in the original forms). If he is telling the Disney versions, then I can understand his view point though.
     
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  29. MasterOfDragonsGod

    MasterOfDragonsGod Connoisseur.

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    OH is that romance I see.
     
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  30. daimahou

    daimahou Gentleman Tentacle(s)

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    I think some of the breeders would be annoyed as they were pretty much doing this for years and the guy just goes and gives out the secret.

    Which crop rotation? Pretty much all of them would be an improvement, but I presume the four-field...
     
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