radiothebook Chapter 301 : Side Story 1 - The Empire in Crisis
Chapter 301 : Side Story 1 - The Empire in Crisis
Side Story 1 - The Empire in Crisis
For nearly a hundred years, the three great powers of the Rozenda continent had existed in a subtle balance.
The Sun God Church, the continent's largest religion, and the Holy Kingdom of Fernand that adopted it as their state religion.
The Adratan Empire, a hegemonic nation that forcefully annexed ruined neighboring states after the Demon God Barbatos was sealed away.
And the Briman Confederation, an alliance formed by kingdoms neighboring those two powers, coming together in resistance.
Each nation possessed its own strength and characteristics, but none ever managed to secure a decisive advantage over the others.
Yet the peace that had lasted more than a brief era began to crack due to a calamity that sprang from within the Adratan Empire.
The rebellion of the 4th Prince.
Demons spreading throughout the Imperial Capital.
The death of the Emperor who had ushered in a golden age.
Many incidents began to mesh together like gears, and this once-glorious empire quietly slipped into decline.
The Adratan Empire, once proud of its invincibility, now greeted its twilight. And the deeper the dusk grew, the more brightly gleamed the eyes of predators lurking in the shadows.
External enemies—
And internal traitors alike,
Like snakes intent on monopolizing the last remaining glory of the fading empire, they moved secretly in the darkness.
* * *
Lyrik the orphan.
Lyrik's first memory was the ruins of a fallen nation east of the Holy Kingdom of Fernand.
He did not know how he had arrived there,
who his parents were,
or even his real name.
The name 'Lyrik' came from a broken lute fragment he found in the trash heap near the ruins—the word engraved upon it.
When Adratan's wars of conquest destroyed many neighboring countries, countless refugees were created, and trash heap-like ruins of ruined nations sprang up.
Lyrik was probably a child abandoned or lost amidst that chaos.
Even at a young age, Lyrik became mature quickly, learning how to survive by scavenging the ruins and trash heap along with other orphans.
Fortunately, Lyrik had a knack for 'finding things'. In the mountain of trash, he uncovered useful items and thus gained the trust of the other children.
Afterward, Lyrik taught survival skills and protected them.
To survive in the trash heap, he taught how to move agilely, how to preserve one's life through cleverness—
And, cruelty.
In time, collecting many brothers and sisters, Lyrik earned respect from peers.
By the time he was called 'King of Orphans' in the trash heap, he was ten years old.
* * *
Before Adratan set foot in conquest, the place once called 'Lightmeria' had been a considerably wealthy nation.
Even after it fell to ruin and became known as the 'trash heap', merely selling items salvaged from this place was enough to support the orphans' livelihoods.
Ironically, because survival was just barely possible, gangs invaded to loot and steal these items.
Rich resources only brought enemies upon them.
"The youngest, Lerudan, is hurt!"
"Damn it, those bastards!"
"What do we do, Lyrik? Should we go after them ourselves?"
Going after them isn't a good idea—Lyrik cautioned his enraged brothers.
The reason children like themselves survived the gangs was because they were intimately familiar with the trash heap; outside these favorable grounds, they would surely become prey.
"Then what should we do?"
"We can't just sit here and do nothing."
"Right! Next time they show up, we've got to make an example out of them!"
Lyrik fell silent in thought. Having escaped death several times while scavenging the ruins and heap, he was well-versed in clever battle.
Now even the gangs seemed to avoid entering the 'ruins' of Lightmeria.
So, rather than flee, Lyrik thought: Let's draw them in once and for all.
"How?"
When the brothers asked, Lyrik replied—
Let's hide the resonance stones.
"R-resonance stones!?"
"That could let demons in!"
We have to go that far if we want the gangs to be misled. If they think we took all value and fled—
Then the gangs will enter, hoping to lick the leftovers. That's how they've always survived.
"Yeah, yeah!"
"Let's do it!"
Buoyed by the brothers' cheers, Lyrik devised a plan.
They gathered the few remaining resonance stones in the ruins and hid them at an inn called 'Elephant's Whiskers', readied traps and weapons, and took cover under the shade of night.
With this, I'll put an end to our long struggle with the gangs—Lyrik thought.
"Lyrik, I'm scared."
The youngest, Lerudan, grabbed Lyrik's sleeve.
An eight-year-old clutching a dagger—
Not an unusual sight to Lyrik, who had grown up witnessing such things. But it pained him to see the small, wounded Lerudan fighting for his life.
Just a little more. He patted trembling Lerudan on the back.
"They're here."
"Someone's come."
At last, a face emerged from the darkness.
On such a dark night, only gangs would visit the trash heap, or so Lyrik thought.
But what appeared was a demon.
A hideous monster as if a human form had been horribly distorted—
Its limbs were twisted at the joints and abnormally long, fingers and toes stretched into skeletal points, and its skin was twisted like melted wax.
At a glance, Lyrik knew. If you met that thing, you'd die.
"A-ah...!"
Whether they sensed the terror as well, the brothers cowered and retreated in fear.
Stay quiet.
He tried to say—
"Uwaaaaah!"
But the children started crying and fleeing.
They were fast. But the demon was even faster. At this pace, they'd all be slaughtered. Thinking thus, Lyrik shouted, drawing the demon's attention.
You bastard! I'm over here, come and get me!
He yelled curses and threw stones, and the demon focused on him.
Feeling its gaze, Lyrik ran—toward the deep well nearby. His aim: to lure the demon in and escape.
So Lyrik stood with his back to the well. The plan was solid. The only miscalculation—the demon was faster than anticipated.
With a brutal rush, the demon slammed into Lyrik. His body floated into the air and plunged straight into the well.
* * *
Keheuk, cough.
Lyrik's consciousness faded, then returned. Cold water flooded into his lungs and he coughed violently.
At least, the drought had left little water remaining—some small mercy.
Slowly, he sat up and looked up. It was eerily silent outside.
How much time had passed? Were the other children safe? Worried, Lyrik began to climb the well wall.
First attempt:
Climbing, his fingers scraped and bled against a sharp rock. Waterlogged clothes dragged him down. Halfway up, his foot slipped.
Second attempt:
This time, he took off the clothes to lighten himself. Choosing a different path on the wall, he found firmer protrusions, but when halfway, the stone he gripped came loose.
Third attempt:
Lyrik moved slower, far more carefully, confirming placements for hands and feet, and this time nearly reached the top—
As he stretched for the rim, his wet hands slipped.
Having fallen from so high, pain wracked his entire body.
"Haa, haa."
Rough breaths spilled out. He'd been so close.
Lyrik gazed upward. The sky, cut into a circle by the mouth of the well. Above, the blue moon was visible.
If only I hadn't removed the resonance stones and set those traps, none of this would have happened. Guilt began to envelop him.
Yet Lyrik did not give up.
Fourth.
Fifth.
6th attempt.
His body grew covered with wounds, his fingers slick with blood.
Finally, on the seventh try,
Lyrik crawled from the well.
What met his eyes were the corpses of his brothers—and, slumped against the well, Lerudan's body.
A metallic, wheezing sound poured from Lyrik's lips.
Once again, in a world with only Lyrik the orphan left drowning in grief, the demon drew closer.
Just as it raised its hand to finish the last survivor and make a meal—
With a flash, a blade severed the demon's throat.
"I sensed demonic energy here, and I see why."
Lyrik turned his head toward the voice. The monstrous demon that had frightened him so much was felled in a single stroke by someone unmistakably human.
A man with forceful eyes and a grim face; the spirit of someone who had survived endless carnage could be felt by Lyrik down to his skin.
At the same time, something unnamable began to boil in Lyrik's chest.
Fear?
Anger?
No, he didn't know. Never having felt this before, Lyrik had no words.
"Orphans of the trash heap, eh? Looks like you survived."
"Please teach me."
But this much was certain:
Lyrik wanted to be like that man. Someone who could casually kill a demon, which he'd thought insurmountable.
"I want strength."
"The demon's dead already. There's no need for vengeance on your friends."
"My family, brothers, friends—everyone is dead. I know myself well."
Despite the man's cold tone, Lyrik pressed on.
"I don't want to live anymore. But I don't want to die either. So please, teach me."
I want a reason I must not die.
Lyrik added, but the man continued to look down coldly.
"There are many orphans like you. No reason to teach you in particular."
Srrng.
The man drew and held out a sword.
"By dawn, bring me the head of the gang boss in the forest."
Absolutely unwavering, the man was serious.
"I only nurture seedlings with potential. You asked me to teach you?"
"Yes."
"If you have no talent, just die where you are."
After receiving the sword, Lyrik set out. His body ached from climbing out of the well, blood ran from his wounds along the blade, but Lyrik paid it no mind.
When dawn broke,
He returned, throwing down a severed head before the man.
The man's eyes were still cold as he looked Lyrik over.
"I am Reinor of the Fernand Holy Kingdom, one of the Chancel of Seven Seats. What is your name?"
Lyrik told him.
"Follow, Lyrik. I will forge you into a sword of the Holy Kingdom."
* * *
Deep beneath the towering spire called 'The Sun God's Eye' in Fernand's capital.
In the Room of Secrets that only a High Priest and highest clergy could enter, there was a massive circular arena.
Only once a year, on the summer solstice, the day when the sun rose highest and set latest, was this sacred venue ever opened.
But today was exceptional: a rite was underway to select bodyguards for the envoy to be sent to the Empire.
"Bodyguards, they say. But it's more like picking assassins, isn't it?"
Tsk, tsk.
At the entrance to the circular arena beneath the spire, an old man with bleached-white hair and trailing priestly robes clicked his tongue.
This was Lenore Proschut Santinida, one of the twelve Arch Priests in the Holy Kingdom of Fernand.
Lenore covered his mouth and snickered slyly.
"Making one hundred warriors fight to the death until only one remains... Ha! To think the Sword Saint Hayden Reich's legacy would be used like this."
'Gu Poison Ritual(蠱毒 儀式).'
A demon-raising method devised by Sword Saint Hayden when he once defected to the Holy Kingdom.
The Holy Kingdom adopted this for humans, using it to choose the 'assassin' to be sent to the Adratan Empire.
As Lenore approached, a man guarding the arena entrance greeted him.
"Come to think of it, sir Reinor, isn't your disciple inside that arena?"
"Yes, Lord Lenore."
"You're quite the teacher, sending a pupil into this."
"If he dies, that just means he was never worthy."
"So coldhearted."
"The rite is over!"
With that, the guards all shouted. The doors to the sacred chamber, shut tight, began to open.
"Master, I present myself to you."
It had been a decade since Reinor took Lyrik in. Hardened by swordsmanship and training, Lyrik now had a robust build, his body soaked with blood and wounds as when he had first slain the gang boss at the trash heap.
* * *
The Empire was in danger.
No one felt this more keenly than Eleanor.
The chaos after the 4th Prince's rebellion.
The 3rd Prince, abandoning his imperial claim and leaving the military in disarray.
The emperor's death.
And amid all this, the 2nd Prince was moving to grasp power, but lacked the charisma to unite the scattered authority.
All he possessed was the noble blood that entitled him to the name 'imperial'.
Thus, the empire was wracked by unprecedented chaos, and the name 'Adratan' now stood before its trial for survival.
What's more—
"As you ordered, I checked Pintel and the activities of Twilight."
Eleanor looked up at Lazlot as he reported.
Pintel Obradin, Archbishop of the New Dawn Society, and the private force he formed, Twilight.
They were slowly accomplishing what the charisma-lacking 3rd Prince could not.
Before leaving, Pintel had said:
The Empire needs a new savior.
One who saved the empire during the 4th Prince's Rebellion, and more than once after.
And,
He is the disciple of that Sword Saint. Though his master abandoned the nation, he fought the Sword Saint for the empire's sake.
"Haa..."
Eleanor sighed. She knew who Pintel meant.
How could she not? The New Dawn Society survived this long thanks to him, and as Pintel said, the capital was safe because of him.
Yet 'savior' wasn't quite right.
That title belonged to someone who won the people's hearts, yet his reputation was closer to infamy.
Once again, Eleanor sighed deeply.
She felt no patriotism, but she could not simply watch her homeland rot from within.
Especially when her own 'Dawn Society' was playing a part.
"Where are you... really..."
A lament slipped from Eleanor's lips. If only he returned, perhaps this chaos could be resolved.
"Yulian."
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
The empire couldn't even work properly without Yulian.
And just like that, Yulian's vacation has been disrupted.
Also, the Gu Poison Ritual is a revised version of Gu Poison Hall
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】