A Talk With Arrogance

Once again, I found myself by the slumbering figure of the crimson elf, a month having passed since the demise of her parasitic burden and the second assault on Falcon's Gate.

Together with Nur, we conducted a series of tests on her. She was undeniably a superior species, seemingly touched by the essence of magic itself—a fact that fueled Nur's envy. As a Djinn, Nur embodied elemental magic in theory.

Belketh and Azkaal successfully dealt with the second 'God' accompanying the elf. Azkaal seized the deity's body from the Angel of Death, presenting it to us under the guise that if such a powerful being were to reincarnate, it would disrupt the delicate balance of power among factions.

The irony struck me. The balance had already crumbled when Necromancers could raise enemies as their own army, while other factions suffered losses in this war. Even within our supposed superiority, all factions, mine included, were rendered inferior by the mere existence of Belketh—except for the demons, with Azkaal's presence offering a challenging match to Belketh, if not equal strength.

I loathed our vulnerability. Despite our wealth and advancements, the prospect of Zakera or Belketh obliterating us loomed. The constraints set by faction contracts prevented direct attacks, but if they wished to, annihilation would come effortlessly.

Knowing that, aside from Vagran, I stood as the mightiest 'hero,' held little allure for me. Vagran was undeniably my friend, perhaps the sole individual who truly understood me, and vice versa. Lyza, too, possessed a gentle spirit, but her innocence shielded her from the intricate political maneuvers at play. She failed to grasp how the Necromancers subtly maneuvered others into a position where dependence on them became inevitable.

Zakera lacked strategic acumen, and Belketh's unwavering devotion to Asha rendered him indifferent to the nuances of politics. Zakera's feeble attempts at cunning were amusingly transparent. She took pride in her perceived intelligence, owing it to her lineage as the daughter of Anastasya and Vein. However, her ego blinded her to realities beyond her arrogance. Empowering an arrogant individual with ultimate authority is a recipe for an imperfect leader.

Hatred consumed me, and loathing coursed through my veins whenever I thought of her. Jealousy, an emotion so repulsive, gnawed at me. How grotesque it was for a king to harbor such feelings toward an unholy entity.

I was acutely aware that this marked the most perilous period for my kingdom. A single misstep could bring about devastating consequences. The Necromancers posed the gravest threat, their insidious magic capable of infiltrating and corrupting my realm.

I took a deep breath while sitting by the bed of the unusual red elf. She was undeniably dangerous, which led me to create restraints that could drain her magic in case she decided to attack upon waking.

Belketh informed me that her awakening was imminent, as her original souls reclaimed their place inside her body, displacing the parasitic force.

What baffled me was her strength. Despite Azkaal's overpowering assault, I couldn't help but wonder if she would be even stronger when in control of her own body, free from the influence of the parasitic entity.

Many times, the temptation to examine what made her so powerful nagged at me. I pondered the idea of opening her up to uncover the internal differences that might explain her extraordinary abilities.

"Your Majesty!" A Praetorian burst into the tent where I had her situated. "The Necromancers' and Wood Elves' forces are advancing beyond Falcon's Gate to secure a terrain for our upcoming attacks."

My eyes focused on the missive handed to me by the Praetorian. This plan carried risks; navigating enemy territory with a sizable army left us exposed to potential sneak attacks.

Suddenly, the elf began to stir on the bed, a phenomenon I hadn't witnessed before. Swiftly, I activated the shackles with a flick of my hands. The elven woman cried out, her body convulsing and thrashing about like a wild animal.

"Calm yourself!" I shouted in her native language, employing a simple spell provided by Belketh. It transformed what I said into something comprehensible to the listener. Her widened eyes, shining like sapphires, focused on me.

"You are not one of them, are you?" Her voice, akin to a beautiful melody, reached my ears.

'Dangerous!' I thought, recognizing the peril. Her entire being exuded a captivating charm—her movements and beauty magnified, and her voice possessed an enchanting quality.

[Dispel]

The dispel magic worked instantly, causing the glow around her to vanish. She widened her eyes as she looked down to see the robes that she were wearing during the fight

"Did you dress me like a whore in this outfit?" Her voice cut through the air, her blue eyes ablaze.

"No, miss, you fought us in this dress," I replied, my tone devoid of emotion.

She surveyed her surroundings, a frown creasing her face. "Where am I?"

"Inside a tent below Falcon's Gate," I informed her.

"And on which continent am I?" Her rude and demanding tone grated on my nerves. There was no respect, just disdain.

"I don't know which continent we are on," I responded with a frown beneath my helmet.

She scoffed before demanding, "So tell me, peasant, where are my servants, and release me from these shackles this instant!" Something snapped inside me as I tightened the shackles on her wrists and legs. "Ouch! How dare you attack this Queen?" she cried out. I continued to secure the shackles, thinking, 'Is she serious right now? This Queen? What is she, a fool? Nobody talks like that,' with a snort.

"Do you hear me, peasant? I will have you burnt alive and transformed into a couch when I destroy these shackles. Al'Amna, to me!" she cried out, but nothing happened. I snorted as I looked at her.

"Al'Amna, you, what have you done to the almighty creation of our Empire!" she cried out with venom as she tried to destroy the shackles.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?!" She seemed to tremble, then widened her eyes. "You are not one of them!"

"Indeed, I wanted to tell you, but, well," I replied with a smirk behind my helmet.

The woman looked at the armored man with apologetic eyes. "Sorry for calling you a peasant; I thought that you were a disgusting Xanatose," she said, nodding her head toward me.

I looked at her before offering a piece of bread and a bowl of soup. "Eat; we'll talk afterward," I said, taking a seat on the only chair in the tent. I sensed her glaring at me, but I simply closed my eyes as I heard the sound of crunching.

—

"I am ready," she said, looking at me.

I nodded, and she abruptly looked at me. "What species are you? I never saw one of you onto the lands that I ruled over, and know that I, Nia'tala, is the seventeenth queen of our glorious Queendom," she declared proudly as I removed my helmet.

"There is much I need to tell you, Queen Nia'tala. First, I am the king of the Holy Falcon Kingdom. My name is Lucas Aldaric. Let me inform you about the current state of the continent now."

"A king? But you males are useless," she replied with a frown. What? What is she saying right now?

"Hmm, Queen Nia'Tala, this may be true for your race, but for ours, males and females each have their own attributes. Yes, a man can do what a woman can, and vice versa," I replied with a smile.

"So, you males can do magic?" she asked with widened eyes. "The males in our races had the impossibility to use even the tiniest shred of magic."

This seemed impossible; every race in this universe had the ability to wield magic. Perhaps their genetic code had been tampered with, but by whom and for what purpose?

Silence hung in the air as Nia'Tala continued to eye me like a predator sizing up her prey. She even licked her lips—a peculiar behavior from this strange woman. I took a deep breath to steady myself. Why was I feeling so disoriented? I had already dispelled her charming spell. Speaking of which...

"Why did you have a charming spell on you?" I asked as she stopped scrutinizing me and met my gaze.

"I don't know," she replied with a frown. "Sorry if I appear a bit erratic. It seems I slept strangely last night. Could you send me back to Nar'shalanor?" she asked, hope glinting in her eyes.

I grappled with how to broach the subject—the potential extinction of her entire race and the fact that her enemies now dominated what remained of her queendom.

"Queen Nia'Tala, there is no queendom waiting for you. I am so—" I couldn't even finish my sentence as I saw her crumble. Her body spasmed, and tears started to fall from her face.

"This was not a dream, was it?" her voice quivered as tears streamed down her face. "What have I done?"

I let her cry. It was good to externalize sometimes. Honestly, having been a mere spectator in my body for I don't know how many years, witnessing her entire people being slaughtered right in front of her eyes must have been truly horrific.

"I thought this was a dream! Why, WHY?" Her voice echoed inside the tent as she looked at me with hatred. But it wasn't directed at me; it was a hatred towards life as a whole. I knew those eyes—the eyes of someone who no longer had anything left to lose.

"Unshackle me," she demanded, showing me her hands. "I will genocide them, all of them!"

"All of them will burn for what they did, just mere creations of 'them,'" she continued her rant, still showing me the shackles. "Unshackle me, and I will make you my consort, someone who will rule alongside me," she continued.

But soon, I morphed a piece of metal into a gag and threw it at her mouth, silencing her.

"Now listen, I have been more than understanding and patient. So now, I'll do the talking."

She endeavored to undo the gag, fixing me with a look of intense animosity.

"You're an excessively self-assured woman. You can't simply command compliance from everyone by mere request. I genuinely feel sorry for you; your past experiences must have been exceedingly dreadful. Nevertheless, that doesn't excuse your unpleasant personality and behavior. Hence, I'll reiterate: nothing in this world is without a cost."

"You're not addressing one of your subjects; you're addressing a foreign king. Judging by your demeanor alone, I can understand why your kingdom fell. If you conduct yourself in this manner, a ruler must not be easily swayed by emotions. If one were to fall while protecting those who serve, then a ruler must accept that fate. Tell me, do you embrace the idea of your own demise?" I continued in a monotone voice.

"If your past failures continue to haunt you, then demonstrate that you are a woman deserving of the title of queen. Seek vengeance against the true perpetrators. Do you believe that a group of youngsters, who weren't even alive during the war, should face genocide because their races were responsible for the demise of yours?"

"No, they don't deserve it. I don't need your response to understand that. In this conflict, my aim is to preserve as many lives as possible, as it is my duty as Elrath's Chosen," I concluded while maintaining eye contact with her. Despite her lingering unrest, I recognized that if our positions were reversed, I would do the same, and that's precisely why I must assist her.

"But don't mistake my resolve for weakness. If someone brandishes a weapon against me or my subjects, I'll be the first to eliminate the threat." I removed her gag, and she stared at me with narrowed eyes.

"You're a different breed of man compared to what I've encountered before," she remarked. "However, you're weak. With a feeble strength like yours, you won't be able to save anyone. The power to save people belongs to the strong, while the weak are the ones in need of salvation."

Her words stung, but regrettably, I knew she spoke the truth. I needed greater strength to carry out what was best for my kingdom. Grand ambitions and ideals are futile without the strength to support them.

"Perhaps we could form an alliance, just you and me," I smiled, presenting her with a scroll. "I want your assistance in becoming stronger, in protecting my people. In return, I could offer you a title, perhaps something akin to a duk-"

"No," she interrupted, her gaze fixed on the scroll. "I don't wish to be something lesser than you. Make me a queen."

Perplexed, I inquired, "Huh?"

"I have nothing left to repay you for helping me seek revenge against those who wronged me, so I can only o-"

"No," I curtly replied, exiting the tent. "See you tomorrow," I added, leaving swiftly.

"Wait, unlock me before leaving!" her voice echoed after me, but I didn't turn back as I sealed the entrance to her tent.

"Ensure no one comes close to this tent," I instructed the Praetorians guarding it as I teleported back into my own.

–

That's all for today, see you soon :)