Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Aftermath

The clatter of horseshoes shook the northern prairies of the Empire as the riders advanced swiftly. Spearheads flashed under the sky in the hands of soldiers who relentlessly charged against the escaping serfs. The heavy cavalry steeds advanced, mercilessly crushing those who collapsed on the ground.

Bones shattered, entrails were destroyed, and wails filled the air.

“Show them the fate of those who dare to defy His Majesty and the Empire!”

Leading the offensive was Marquis Maximil, head of the northern aristocrats’ faction. He set out to personally eradicate the uprising, a conflict the central administration had not managed efficiently.

Maximil, who had previously exterminated the main battalions of the revolutionary forces in the northern sector, considered himself a bulwark of the Empire. He felt no fear facing the northern groups that made the central palace tremble.

“Please, forgive us! We beg for mercy!”

“We swear loyalty to the Emperor! We will never defy the Empire again!”

That was far from being an equal confrontation; it constituted a butchery, a crude display of domination.

The serfs, swept away by the absurd tall tales about the existence of a “Fourth Empire”, had detached themselves from their plots. Marquis Maximil observed them with a contemptuous gesture, planted in front of the rows of captive peasants and their relatives.

Dale slowly raised his gaze and examined the panorama before him with deep sorrow.

The remains of the farmers hung inert on cross-shaped timbers, while their decapitated heads remained mounted on pikes. The dwellings had been reduced to ashes, the farmlands were devastated, and the wind carried the putrid smell of blood mixed with soot.

That site marked the boundary of the northern territory under Dale’s domain. A warrior belonging to the Order of the Night Raven approached him after inspecting the surroundings.

“We have examined the entire settlement, but not a living soul remains. Following your directives, we relocated the fleeing farmers remaining on the lands to the safety of the castle.”

“Good job,” replied Dale, nodding gravely. He turned on his heels, and his eyes settled on the remains of a young girl. Inevitably, the memory of Yufi came to his mind. With absolute certainty, her end would have been identical.

Nothing had transformed. This environment remained a hell and would stay the same.

Such certainty caused a desolate void in Dale’s chest.

“Order the advance, and we will rally the riders of the Order of the Night Raven to deliver the heads of the guilty to His Majesty!”

“It is not necessary,” murmured Dale firmly, shaking his head in refusal.

“I will take charge of speaking with them personally.”

“Pardon…?”

“It is my will to march toward their northern domains and confront their leader face to face.”

He had simply granted the fleeing serfs lands to subsist on, nothing more. He did not arrange battalions to guard them nor execute defensive strategies.

There were no regions or inhabitants that he considered his obligation to safeguard.

At the very least, Dale held the certainty of having conveyed the strongest possible warning to the sovereign’s emissary. He assumed the message had been perfectly assimilated.

He had been naive.

A bitter laugh erupted from his lips. He possessed no transcendental mission in this reality. In his condition as a foreigner, it was not up to Dale to ponder such dilemmas.

That is how everything should have gone.

“Return and tell Lize to draft a census of the people we can receive in these domains. Have her prepare a cadastre to distribute the plots and agricultural zones among the knights of the Order of the Night Raven.”

In her role as the sovereign’s most trusted advisor, being the master of the Blue Tower, she would immediately understand the impact and relevance of such instructions.

“I will fulfill your directives!”

The warrior made a deep bow, assimilating that Dale’s determinations meant proclaiming himself the absolute master of the region.

Dale turned and mounted the back of his dark steed.

While the soldier began the return to the fortress, Dale pulled the reins to start his march.

At the Empire’s northern checkpoint, erected with the purpose of guarding Dale’s borders and watching for fugitive farmers, the sentinels shouted upon spotting a rider on a black horse.

“Halt and reveal your name!”

“Who exercises control in this region?” the newcomer questioned.

“This territory belongs to Marquis Maximil, sovereign of the northern Empire…!”

Mid-reply from the guard, dark appendages emerged from the ground, wrapping violently around his throat.

“Gah, gah…!”

“I have knowledge that Marquis Maximil deployed his riders. After ransacking my possessions, where did they march to?”

“What kind of witchcraft is this…?!”

Suffocating, the sentinel tried to articulate a word, getting the shadowy limbs to reduce the pressure. Recovering his breath gasp by gasp, he exclaimed in desperation.

Marquis Maximil alongside the northern rulers had scoffed at the rumors pointing to the rebirth of the Great Magic Empire, considering them simple nonsense. Nevertheless, that disbelief was not widespread. Various sectors feared the return of the Sovereign of Dark Gold and the definitive chaos that would fall upon the continent.

“We are just simple low-ranking guards! We do not know the Marquis’s plans or the cavalry’s course…!”

The combatant repeatedly begged for mercy, while Dale kept a sepulchral silence, maintaining an icy demeanor.

At that precise moment, blue butterflies began to dance in the space.

— Are you disoriented once again, marching aimlessly?

A vocal vibration resonated in his mind.

“… Lize.”

— The winged messengers and the rodents of the surroundings have whispered the location of what you seek, brother.

“Toward what coordinates must I head?”

— Do you intend to start another endless journey across this world?

Inquired the blue-hued winged insect, prompting Dale to shake his head.

“That region constituted my Saxon territory.”

He declared after making the gesture with his head.

“It was my obligation to guard it and watch over its inhabitants. That is the burden that corresponds to me.”

— ….

The winged creature remained silent for a moment before revealing the exact location of the men Dale was tracking.

Upon obtaining the data, Dale showed no hesitation whatsoever. He lacked reasons to doubt.

His duty of protection did not encompass the entirety of the planet, but his own region. His need for redemption was not with all of humanity, but with his own vassals.

In Dale’s domains, the imposing bivouac of the riders of the Ninth Empire stood right at the northern limit. It corresponded to the forces of the northern aristocrats, who operated under the directives of Marquis Maximil to apprehend the evading farmers and offer an exemplary punishment.

For this group, the supposed resurgence of the Great Magic Empire was nothing more than a laughable fable. Despite this, contemplating the ineptitude of the imperial emissaries, incapable of subduing a miserable seditious contingent, caused enormous amusement for Marquis Maximil.

Under that panorama, a new desire for greatness gained strength within him.

The factions that kept loyalty to him, the swift decadence of the Empire, the Emperor’s bewilderment, and the revolutionary process represented the ideal scenario for his purposes.

Eradicating the strange events and neutralizing the agitation of the belligerent groups in the northern sector would mark the beginning of his consecration.

It was then when a silhouette took shape beyond the limits of the camp.

A sentinel on duty readied his pike, sensing an offensive, discovering that it was only a solitary individual.

“A wild creature…?”

A subject clad in a tunic remained motionless on the spot.

“Identify yourself right now!” the warrior demanded aloud.

“Is it your desire to know who I am?” replied the individual.

Darkness and a wintry cold began to dance in circles around him.

“Charge, charge!” exclaimed the alarmed rider, projecting his spear with force. Nevertheless, the blackness absorbed the attack without the slightest setback. Dale continued his walk unperturbed, causing panic in the sentinel who intended to retreat; however, the dark extremities that seized his ankles prevented any movement.

“A-ah…!”

“Declare your offenses,” decreed Dale upon approaching.

“I committed no fault! I swear! I was solely fulfilling the assigned directives…!”

The soldier shouted with anguish. Dale locked his gaze on him. The shadowy reflection of the combatant laid bare the reality.

He had taken the life of a parent who begged for mercy in the presence of his little girl, perpetrating monstrous crimes.

“Why have you lacked the truth?” inquired Dale, while the warrior, immobilized by the dark vines, desperately begged.

“Lie? Never, I swear on my life, sorcerer!”

Realizing the altercation, the mounted troop hurried to take up arms. From the heavily armored riders to the soldiers equipped with recently-technological muskets, everyone adopted combat positions.

The gears of history, propelled by violence and bloodshed, remained unalterable.

Crack!

The shadowy vines crushed the soldier’s metallic protection and joint. His balance was completely lost, and the appendages covered the entirety of his anatomy.

Crack!

The armor folded as if it were a thin leaf, the skeletal structure was pulverized, and the internal organs were expelled through the openings of the armor.

“Mother of mine,” Dale pronounced with serenity, contemplating the outcome.

“I have banished the ‘authentic humans’ from this celestial body to build a sanctuary destined for the anomalies. Acting in the capacity of your offspring and sovereign of the monstrosities. And presently, your descendants populate this world.”

Addressing Shub, the ancient progenitor of darkness.

“The descendants disseminated in the most remote sectors of the cosmos, following the Mother’s purpose, have taken firm root in this soil, resulting in this blooming. Does this constitute the exact panorama that the Mother projected for this environment?”

The lineage sown by the Mother of Ancient Darkness, her own descendants.

Dale alongside his peers, who adopted the identity of humans, did not represent the authentic dominators of this planet.

In the eyes of those whose destiny was to legitimately rule this reality, they must have seemed nothing more than despicable vermin.

Despite everything, said vermin prospered on this soil and achieved dominance. This was the current panorama.

— Do you harbor regrets for your determinations, my favored descendant?

Inquired the Mother of Ancient Darkness sweetly, gently brushing Dale’s face.

— H-Hiiik!

For Marquis Maximil and his riders, the scene represented a spectacle of unprecedented horror and deformity.

An agglomeration of shadowy appendages sheltered Dale in a gesture similar to a caress, and he rested his head without offering resistance in the middle of the structure.

Just like an infant seeking refuge in its mother’s bosom.

“The gleam of gold and the shadows, certainties and falsehoods, dynasties that perennially collapse. I considered the trivialities of this world as something extremely wearisome. Because of that, I intended to turn my back on everything.”

And in that manner he proceeded. The darkness propagated far and wide across the territory.

“Nevertheless, I now manage to understand it. This is our existence and, as long as we remain alive, it will be impossible for us to break this gear.”

Assuming his role as sovereign of humanity and monarch of beasts, the Lord of Dark Gold finally exposed his true nature.

The Dark Young.

An appearance that embodied the most aberrant and horrifying manifestation that an individual could adopt.