Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Return of the Empire

In the core of the human nation, while the civil conflict between the forces of the revolution and the supreme ruler unfolded, an ancient dynasty that emerged from the historical annals fully manifested before the world.

Without showing the slightest doubt and accepting their reality absolutely, they emerged exhibiting a serene conviction.

The Sovereign of Black Gold solemnly proclaimed the name of his regime and began his advance.

Under the direction of Marquis Maximil, the equestrian forces belonging to the northern landowners suffered a swift fall, and their territorial possessions were expropriated with astonishing rapidity.

The renowned warriors known as the Night Raven knights, together with the practitioners of the dark mystical arts belonging to the lineage of the Saxon family, bowed their heads in submission as Dale led them on their march.

In spite of everything, for Dale there was no altruistic purpose nor a transcendental mission destined for collective salvation. His motivations responded solely to his own benefit and that of his close associates.

For this reason, when the forces of the “Old Empire” settled in the northern regions belonging to the Ninth Empire, securing the loyalty of its inhabitants turned out to be an extremely simple task.

The revolutionary faction, the current ruler, and the old regime.

Within a continental territory fragmented under the dominion of these three rival factions, the citizens found themselves at the crossroads of making a new determination.

The mythical faction denominated the “Great Magic Empire” finally abandoned its lethargy and began its military descent toward the south.

In a highborn fiefdom, located in what was considered the northern zone from the perspective of the Fourth Empire and the insurgents of the Ninth Empire, the Night Raven knights and the experts in dark mysticism established their main camp.

The total contingent was barely composed of a few hundred individuals, a highly derisory figure to hold the title of empire.

That event marked the beginning of an immense calamity.

“Only a few hundred?”

“That is correct, adding up all the riders and the users of the dark arts, the figure barely reaches a few hundred men…”

“But wasn’t it reported that Marquis Maximil along with all the northern cavalry suffered absolute devastation?”

“That information is completely true!”

“How could it have happened? To have pulverized the renowned Marquis Maximil and his mounted northern troops employing only a few hundred combatants!”

Following the complete eradication of the domains belonging to Marquis Maximil and the northern aristocrats of the Ninth Empire, the Great Magic Empire took possession of said lands. However, upon learning of the small volume of enemy troops, Count Balian, who had the responsibility of containing their advance from the central sector, experienced profound bewilderment.

A few hundred, a truly minuscule amount.

Even the insurgent groups possessed vanguard battalions integrated by thousands of experienced soldiers. Despite this, did that handful of men possess the audacity to proclaim themselves as the “Great Magic Empire” and manifest the intention to subjugate the Ninth Empire?

Had there existed an immeasurable numerical superiority, capitulating would have represented a sensible alternative. However, in the reality of that era, choosing the wrong faction implied the risk of ending up on the scaffold, a tragic outcome that reached even the members of high society in those turbulent times.

He was aware of the internal degradation suffered by the Ninth Empire, recognizing the urgency to opt between the monarch’s side or the insurgents’.

And at that precise instant, an additional monarch emerged, placing him before the dilemma of making an unforeseen choice.

It was precisely in that period when a covert emissary from the revolutionary forces cautiously established contact with Count Balian.

“We have completed the inspection of the property records in the northern regions and the instruction of recent recruits has begun in order to repel possible offensives coming from both the Ninth Empire and the insurgents.”

After attending to the notification presented by a member of the Night Raven knights, Dale nodded, showing absolute serenity.

The former demarcation that belonged to Maximil operated at that moment as a border bastion and an outpost for the hosts of the Fourth Empire.

“We will pause our march at this point and initiate the conciliation processes with the neighboring nations. In parallel, try to keep the inhabitants of these lands cohesive and under protection. Our ranks are certainly very small.”

“We will carry out your directives, Your Majesty!”

The sovereign of the Fourth Empire was not characterized by remaining static on his royal seat. Even when delving into hostile regions, he dispensed with the accompaniment of armed escorts or mystics to watch over his physical integrity.

The reason resided in that this leader, Dale, did not require any type of external protection. He constituted the living representation of the dynasty formerly named the Great Magic Empire, being the Sovereign of Black Gold himself.

In this way, delegating the administration of those territories to his subordinates, Dale set out on the march solitarily.

Heading beyond the southern borders, towards the scene of disputes where the monarch and the insurgents dueled in the central sector of the continental mass.

His march did not possess the characteristics of a military incursion. It consisted only of the journey of a solitary traveler on the back of his mount.

In spite of this, before the gaze of the Night Raven knights and the practitioners of dark arts who contemplated his departure, it gave the impression that the entire empire came to life and advanced in his figure.

Not even the legions of darkness that crowded the confines of the earth had the capacity to inflict harm on him. For he possessed the faculty to summon such spectral multitudes.

As the news spread that the hosts belonging to the Fourth Empire barely amounted to a few hundred combatants, discouragement became widespread.

Nevertheless, the moment the “Fourth Empire” made its appearance, the figure did not even reach those few hundred.

It was reduced to a single individual.

When a subject presented himself claiming to be the supreme leader of said dynasty, Count Balian came to consider the possibility that that individual was suffering in his mental faculties.

He appeared solitarily at the aristocrat’s possessions, engaging in dialogue with the sentinels at the main entrance.

“The leader of the Fourth Empire, known as the Sovereign of Black Gold, requests an audience with your lord.”

The individual wore a full-length garment that exhibited the heraldry of the Night Raven. The shadows projected under his clothing possessed an extremely gloomy appearance.

It is highly probable that all those present interpreted his words as the raving typical of a madman.

“The Lord Count lacks the time to attend to the delusions of a madman!”

“Withdraw from this place!”

The sentinels manifested their mockery toward the subject, who chose to remain silent.

“Is it imperative that I show you a testimony of my condition to obtain your credibility?”

After a brief pause of quietness, the traveler inquired.

Immediately after, he executed a snap with his fingers.

Suddenly, the clarity of the firmament was extinguished. The midday solar radiance, which should have illuminated the surroundings, became buried under a dense mantle of darkness.

“Bring the Count before me.”

The individual’s words resonated from the bosom of the darkness, dictating with a power capable of suppressing the illumination of the firmament.

The sentinels, their throats dry with fear, hurried inside to notify the aristocrat of what had happened, finally realizing the true nature of the being that was at the entrance.

Only one person, a single individual!

Once again, upon evaluating said quantity, the noble’s sanity began to stagger and lose coherence.

In his position as count of the nation, he had under his command multiple elite warriors and renowned practitioners of magic. Did a propitious opportunity present itself perhaps to engage in combat? It is feasible that the prestige derived from subduing the leader of the Fourth Empire would serve as an impulse to consolidate his own aspirations amidst the struggle between the monarch and the insurgency.

“What is your perspective, Lord Azar?”

The sovereign of the Great Magic Empire, after all, stood out for his mystical abilities. Therefore, the only technical opinion he could require was that of his personal specialist. The aristocrat requested the presence of his trusted mystic, who proceeded to issue his assessment.

“… What kind of phenomenon is that?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“That individual… the energy his being gives off… does it constitute magic? Is it truly about mystical arts? No, it’s impossible…”

The expert continued pronouncing words erratically, as if his mental schemas were collapsing in the face of an event that escaped his logic.

“Lord Azar, I demand a clear answer from you!”

“Magic Ruler? What category of power does that subject dominate…? Sorcery? Shadow forces? The ancestral domain of the circle? No, it is not that by any means… consequently, what are we facing…?”

He resembled a madman uttering phrases without any sense.

“Lord Azar, cease your ravings and regain your composure immediately!”

At that precise instant, the subject stationed at the entrance raised his gaze. The darkness hidden beneath his upper garment directed its attention straight toward the mystic Azar.

An indecipherable blackness stirred inside the hood, emulating the movement of an organism with a life of its own.

“Ah, ah…”

Azar ended up articulating words with a countenance that reflected a sudden mental illumination.

“It’s evident, it’s evident, right now I understand it, Your Majesty!”

“Your Majesty?”

“No, under no circumstances, that does not correspond to the figure of a monarch! A sovereign possesses a human nature! However, that entity… how could a simple mortal employ human terms to qualify such a being! Ah, without a doubt, we find ourselves before a demon god!”

After pronouncing those exclamations, Azar collapsed abruptly onto the surface of marble blocks.

“Oh, deity of the depths! Oh, demon god! I beg you for mercy, I implore you to forgive me!”

Thud! Thud! He began to deliver blows with his frontal zone against the surface of the floor with such an excessive intensity that the structure of his head experienced considerable fractures and ruptures.

“What kind of madness is this…?”

Count Balian lost his breath upon contemplating such a dantesque and disconcerting scene. Despite the situation, it was impossible for him to base a formal strategy on the sudden outbreak of dementia of his mystic. His thoughts plunged into an even greater chaos.

Beyond any reasoning, an unknown panic infiltrated the deepest part of his being.

He was facing an entity endowed with a colossal force and alien to the logical parameters of the known environment, and said entity required a compensation on his part.

Consequently, the aristocrat, as if dragged by an imperceptible current, began his march.

Advancing to the encounter of the demon god that awaited him.

“I was awaiting your arrival.”

The individual pronounced those words, covered by the shadows after having neutralized the natural radiance of the surroundings.

Count Balian in the company of his armed escorts presented themselves before his figure, and the noble inquired with evident signs of hesitation.

“Show before us who you really are.”

“I have already manifested my identity to you.”

The subject replied.

“I possess multiple denominations, and I have granted you one of them in our encounter.”

“The Magic Emperor…”

In a historical period where the mystical arts were experiencing a process of extinction, the most sublime practitioner of the known world was located in front of them. However, did that adjust to reality?

Once again, the dilemma lay in the numerical volume. A single being, completely alone. In current times, a single combatant, however extremely strong, would never manage to impose himself against a multitude of a thousand opponents.

Nevertheless, in the event that his affirmations were true, this entity constituted a colossus from past eras that surpassed the limits of comprehension of contemporary society.

A unique warrior with the aptitude to subjugate a hundred peers, and an extraordinary being capable of breaking even those formidable warriors on his own.

That represented the magnitude of the Sovereign of Black Gold, the Magic Emperor, an appellation pronounced with reverence and mysticism in the ancient tales. And the being stationed in front of them attributed to himself that very legendary identity.

“What is it that you demand from our side?” inquired the aristocrat with an unstable intonation due to nervousness.

The subject proceeded to place himself on his knees, an unforeseen movement that caused bewilderment in the count, although said action was enormously far from representing an act of capitulation or subordination.

He took a portion of dust from the surface of the ground and proceeded to stand upright again.

“A fraction of this territory.”

“…!”

“And that you bend your knee before me.”

The real background of the individual’s demands turned out to be extremely evident.

In a reality where even the landowners of highest lineage could end their days on the gallows due to a poor choice of factions, Count Balian reflected frantically. He analyzed the variables over and over again in his mind.

An absolute muteness enveloped the atmosphere.

“Have you managed to adopt a definitive resolution?”

The traveler interrupted the lack of sound through his question.

Common sense exerted a strong pressure on the aristocrat’s inner self. In his condition as a noble, he maintained troops at his service and, guided by the logical precepts and the standards of his time, he lacked real motives to prostrate himself before a subject who presented himself without the backing of a military contingent.

In spite of everything, an incomprehensible dread, devoid of any logical explanation, forced the movement of his lower joints.

“I… hand over the domains of this region and bend my knee… in the presence of Your Majesty.”