The Monarch of Drangleic sat on his throne in the cave, looking around before he stood back up.
"It feels surreal to be here." He muttered, hand running over the throne's arms. "There are few survivors, and the curse is never to end. I must find some way to control the Hollowed, and all the beasts here if I am to meet with other Kingdoms."
The Monarch, clad in his Drakekeepers armor and his Dragonrider helmet, held his Aged Feather as it activated.
"The journey of a thousand miles..."
40 years later...
"...begins with a single step." The Monarch watched as, by his command, armies of Hollowed Royal Soldiers and Infantry, commonly found in the Forest of Fallen Giants, travelled in formation with Skeletons and their Summoners, like the Undead Purgatory. Behind them, the Executioner and his Chariot slowly followed, firmly under the Monarch's control.
The Monarch himself had aged like fine wine, a drink he had taken a personal liking to after finding tons of wine, beer, whiskey and all sorts of alcohol, in the King's personal room, hidden behind a bookcase. He appeared no older than 40 years ago, perks of the curse. He still wore his old armour, though it was freshly reforged from being withered by age.
His research was complete, and the Monarch felt as though there was a small flicker of hope for his new kingdom. He could now command anything with the curse within it, meaning all the mindless Hollows, demons, Great Ones reincarnated, the Charred King, everything in between.
He remade the Rotten, allowing it to have a sane mind again. It returned to it's old ways of creating the odd statues that, now, spat out Divine Blessings. As rare as the Divine Blessings were, the Rotten could make them itself, every so often.
He convinced the Lost Sinner to let go of her guilt and sins. The female warrior was to lead his armies as the Elder Commander. There was a small bit of tension between the Monarch and the Sinner for the 'Elder' part, but it was turned to a joke between the two for their age.
He remade the Duke and his Dear Freja. The massive spider set to laying eggs for the Monarch's armies and the thick silk her spiders produced for weaving beneath armor. The Duke set about caring for his Freja, donating his bodily fluids when needed to fertilize Freja's eggs, leading to more of the terrifying half-breed of hollow and spider that the Monarch hated.
The Old Iron King was remade and given soverign back over his Iron Kingdom, once again with his human mind. The King answered to the Monarch, for whenever he needed his permission to advance his kingdom. The iron his kingdom was built on was distributed to the army to replace the decrepit and rotted weapons and armor the population wore.
The Monarch had all of Drangleic under his control, and it was just as sweet as he though it would be.
Now, came the next problem.
"To meet with other kingdoms, we need trade. Resources. Souls will do little, I assume." He looked at the rusted coin he pulled out of is pack. "This is a kingdom of death, what use would we for currency? The population would never use it, neither would I. If the foreigners want to trade or speak, they do so with might and souls of their fallen. Although, we can use iron I suppose, if any other kingdom will take it. There also precious gems to be mined." Thr Monarch scratched his helemeted chin. "Fine, the hollowed Infantry not in the army will set to work, mining gems for trade."
"Next, Language. I can't truly prepare for this, so I will have to take it as it comes and hope the foreigners speak the same language." The Monarch shrugged. The door to his throne opened, and he turned to face the Lost Sinner as she entered.
She had cleaned since her imprisonment. Her hair was noe long, and flowing behind her, hazelnut in it's colour. Her skin was no longer blackened from soot, ash and insects. It was now a delicious tan, brown and, The Monarch thought, heavenly when she sweat. Her face was no longer covered by her mask, instead her vibrant brown eyes were out in the open, complimenting her brown skin in just the right. She had a fairly small chest, sadly and her butt wasn't too bubbly, or the Monarch may have pursued her himself.
"The boats are ready, my liege. Me, the army and the dignitaries are ready to cross the ocean for other countries. Will you be joining us?" She asked. The Monarch nodded.
"Stay in this kingdom, or possibly see new life? Is that a choice? Of course, I am following you. But, I must speak to the Rotten. I have need of his statues." The Monarch cbuckled. The Lost Sinner smiled and bowed.
"Very well, my liege. We will wait for you at the boats." The Lost Sinner straightened out and left, leaving the Monarch to his own devices.
The Monarch used his Aged Feather, then teleported to the Black Gulch.
He ran to the Rotten, feeling much happier at no longer having to dance around poison.
He entered the Rotten chamber, watching the mass of flesh create another of it's statues.
"Hello, Rotten." The Monarch called out. The Roften turned and looked at him before dropping it's statue it was working on, sliding up to him.
"My liege! Have you come to see the new statues, it hurts to make the Divine Blessings, but if it helps just one person, I will consider it worthwhile!" The Rotten spouted, his question registering in the Monarch's head much slower than he had spouted it off.
"Yes, I do. I need the statues for healing the troops of any damage they may face. I would request a shipment." The Monarch asked. The Rotten was very protective of it's statues, and even though the Monarch could kill him, the fight would be long and bloody and he would prefer diplomacy over violence.
"Of course, my king! Ooh, this is so exciting, the new foreigners will see my magnificent and helpful statues, and they get to help you!" The Rotten turned around, picking up statues carefully to place in himself for transportation. "They will be there soon!"
The Monarch used his Aged Feather to travel back to his bonfire, then teleport to Heide's Tower of Flame. The ships would be there to travel to the new world, for the Monarch and his companions.
As requested, a dozen statues were placed carefully along the dozen ships, though how the Rotten got here before him, he didn't know.
The Monarch walked over to The Lost Sinner, the only person standing on the docks, the hollow and mindless army standing on the boats motionlessly bar a few twitches every now and then.
"We are ready, my liege. The boats are prepped, the army ready and the statues are here. Just give the word, and we travel." The Lost Sinner pointed her thumb over her shoulder toward the open ocean.
"No time like the present, let us go." The Monarch nodes and folower the Lost Sinner onto the only boat with space.
Then, with the deafening sound of a horn, the boats were set off.