Chapter 6: Founding of a New Empire
Chapter 6: Founding of a New Empire
THE Dark Elf clan discussed the matter for three days and three nights. It was just too outlandish and life-altering not to tread with great care.
They had received enough food to start recovering, although not entirely. Their newfound stamina was burned not wasting any time sleeping as they heatedly debated whether to become the King’s citizens or not.
The one who had bestowed food upon them claimed to be the legendary being known as the King of Ruin. It was true they were in dire straits, but they were apprehensive about happily going along with his offer and becoming citizens just like that.
This being was not like the hundreds of run-of-the-mill kings they’d served in the past either. According to Elder Moltar’s tales, he was the king of the apocalypse who would eventually destroy the world and return everything back to nothingness.
His power was fathomless and impossible for mortals to resist.
Once they formed a contract with him, it was highly likely even their souls would belong to him.
Most of the clan gave their opinion regarding this ultimate choice where even liberation by death wouldn’t be possible once they decided. Needless to say, every adult in the clan was consulted, and children of a certain age were included. Even toddlers who’d just learn to speak were forced to make a decision.
The only ones excluded were the babies who slept against their mother’s chest.
After a long debate, they unanimously decided to become the King’s subjects.
They had no future. It was better to survive, even if that meant falling into the hands of evil than to sit by and wait for death.
Most of all, they couldn’t forget the mercy that satiated their hunger. Whether that mercy came from an evil being or the harbinger of the end times, it mattered not compared to the outstanding debt of gratitude they owed.
At long last, everyone felt like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders with their crucial decision made. They were also convinced their lives were about to change for good.
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THE Dark Elves had made that fateful decision two days ago. And it was today that their very souls would forever remember what the result would bring.
The King would soon come to their encampment. Ordinarily, they’d go to him, but it was decided, per Atou’s suggestion, that the King would meet them there as it’d be more of a nuisance to have a group of five hundred traipsing through the forest to see him.
An unsettling quiet hung over the air. Nobody verbalized how they felt, but a mixture of anxiety, hope, and fear filled everyone.
Every Dark Elf knelt on the ground, waiting for their new master with their heads bowed. Per Elder Moltar’s decision, his people were better off not looking at the King and risking a bad first impression.
Before long, they heard the sound of twigs breaking underfoot and two pairs of footsteps approaching.
“The King has come,” Elder Moltar told his clan just as two figures appeared from the forest depths.
Despite countless warnings from their Chief and Warrior Captain not to look directly at the King, several of the younger Dark Elves lifted their heads, curiosity getting the better of them. They were overcome with regret as soon as they did, as absolute fear chilled them to the bone.
They had looked at pure darkness—darkness in human form.
It was as if something had gone horribly wrong in the world, giving birth to this distorted dark stain incapable of purification. Something too eerie for words was before them.
The being they were about to revere as their king was the incarnation of ruin.
The faint of heart let out a strangled whimper, getting elbowed by the person beside them.
The younglings’ survival instincts kicked in, causing them to stifle their cries and bury their faces in their mothers’ chests.
Even the brave warriors could not hide their fearful shudders.
Only the people who held to their chief’s warning found themselves spared from the worst effects. The young ones who dared look wet themselves, some even swooning with drool dribbling from their mouths.
They had absolutely no idea what he was thinking—that was their sole impression of Takuto Ira.
But they had decided to become citizens of the empire created by the King of Ruin. Their exile brought them to establish their home here, where they would live new lives under the protection of this ink-black being.
Atou, the King’s direct subordinate, exchanged a few words with Elder Moltar and listened to his brief explanation about the throne. The King then sat upon the misshapen throne the Dark Elves had hastily prepared for this occasion and gave a half nod to the girl waiting at his side.
“We shall now welcome the Dark Elf clan present here today as immigrants to Mynoghra,” the girl announced in a clear and powerful voice that traveled well despite not speaking loudly. “Do you approve, King Takuto Ira?”
The King gave a contented nod and said “‘Okay.’ I welcome you” in response.
The instant the King’s words entered their bodies through their ears, they felt their very souls being caressed, and an internal chill froze them from the inside out.
“Congratulations. You are now officially citizens of Mynoghra. In the name of our great King, Takuto Ira, all happiness and peace will be promised to you.”
With that, Atou’s proclamation, filled with an unseen power, came to an end, and the tenseness in the air eased somewhat. Perhaps she had been slightly nervous too because once she finished, she broke into a broad smile.
A strange silence followed.
“C-Captain, is the ceremony over now?” the legend-loving adjutant Emle asked Gia in a hushed whisper.
“It should be. But they haven’t said anything else. What should we do now?”
Not only did they have little experience with such rituals, but they also didn’t feel like they had become Mynoghra’s citizens—or rather, evil beings.
What was going on?
Neither the King nor his subordinate made any moves as they seemed to be waiting for something.
Should they just stay as they were for a while longer? Were they going to hear a speech from their new king? Kneeling this long was starting to hurt their legs. Such thoughts plagued the minds of every Dark Elf, including Emle, when suddenly—
Their hearts hammered in their ears as unbearable rage welled up from within. It was the hatred of all living things. It was the simmering, burning hatred of all who persecuted, hurt, and ridiculed them as worthless.
Now, if the King ordered them to, they’d be happy to kill all living things. Wrath unlike anything they had experienced before inflicted both confusion and intense agony on the Dark Elves.
At the same time, they were enveloped by powerful emotions that drowned out the boiling hatred. Those miserable feelings of hate and anger, which dominated their hearts like the raging rapids of an overflowing river, became more like the babbling of a peaceful brook compared to this new emotion wrapping them up like a warm blanket.
These pacifying feelings came from but one source. Every Dark Elf’s gaze settled there—upon their king, Takuto Ira, who would destroy everything for them.
“Are you okay?”
At last, they finally understood the truth about their king with their souls.
The King was worried about them.
They now knew he gave them food because he was deeply sympathetic to their circumstances, and that act was out of pure mercy with no strings attached. From the beginning, the King had no intention of hurting them.
Why, he was compassionately watching over them as they endured their hearts’ painful transformation. Knowing that filled them with the joy of being protected for the first time in their lives.
It brought them infinite relief that came from the deepest darkness. They were delighted the great King of Ruin deigned to look at them. They were convinced all their enemies would fall before the King, leaving a field of corpses in their wake.
They brimmed with endless joy that they finally had a place to return to after all the hardships and tragedy they’d experienced. Every kind of emotion swirled within them like a raging storm, eventually transforming into a maelstrom of heated passion.
Fanaticism had been born within them, along with loyalty on par with the debt of gratitude they owed.
At this very moment, the Dark Elves were reborn and transformed into the evil citizens of Mynoghra.
“A-All hail our great and mighty king, Takuto Ira!” one of the younger Dark Elves cheered with his hands in the air. He was the same pathetic man who’d wet himself earlier. But now he just felt pride and excitement before his king.
His excitement quickly spread to the people around him, eventually engulfing the entire group in a maelstrom of enthusiasm.
Even Warrior Captain Gia and Elder Moltar showered Takuto with praise as tears of joy streamed down their cheeks. Atou stood at his side, nodding in satisfaction, as if their reaction was only natural.
All devotion is given to my king. All fanaticism revolves around my king, she thought.
In response to everything they said to him, the great King of Ruin took it all in stride and simply said, “Cool.”
