The silence within Calca's throne room in Northern Roble was getting awkward. The space itself wasn't very large because Calca never had much need to host many personal meetings after her official coronation in the North. This would be the first time that she'd used the throne room in years, and she felt like her first impression to her guests was already failing.
She could see Gemas from the corner of her eyes attempting to blend into the shadows out of embarrassment, and she couldn't fault him for it. For as much dignity as she had attempted to instill within herself, Remedios, and Kelart, she had still failed to account for the situation.
She, Kelart, and Remedios, were still young women with unjust rumours floating within the Kingdom regarding their personal love lives. She wasn't in any kind of illicit relationship with the Custodio sisters as the rumours seemed to suggest. Instead, she was aggrieved that her preference in an ideal man had caused her to reject so many political marriages that her sexual orientations were put into question. She'd just never found anyone suitable to throw her into a fluster until now. Evidently, Kelart and Remedios were the same.
Things were getting out of hand and she herself wasn't quite feeling stable.
Hooking a hand across Kelart's shoulder, Calca pulled Kelart behind her in order to both reaffirm her position and to get the meeting back in order. Meanwhile, Remedios was too busy doing her best impression of a statue to warrant any real concern as competition-no; that wasn't what she meant.
This damn clouded mind.
She coughed delicately over her sleeve, her left hand subtly moving to pinch her thigh in order to get her to focus. "Yes, well, where were we? Pardon this little awkward debacle, I've been suffering from a bout of anemia as of late." She grinned weakly, shadowing her features with her hair to make her seem ill.
'Bullshit.'
Kelart looked moment's away from calling Calca out on her lie, so she quickly covered her friend's mouth with a handkerchief without a change in her expression. "Pardon, Ms. Kelart here. We were having snacks moments earlier and she'd always been a messy eater. Sometimes I have to wipe away some crumbs that she'd missed over lips."
'Bitch. Did you just insinuate that I eat like a pig while covering for yourself?
Kelart felt so wronged that her eyes narrowed into daggers. However, she was mortified to realize that Shirou and the others seemed to just go along with what Calca had said. Worse, when she was moments away from protesting, it wasn't Calca who stopped her, but this time it was Remedios who intervened.
"Indeed, my sister has always been something of a messy slob at times," Remedios looked entirely genuine when she spoke with a stone face and a long sigh.
Kelart's eyes dilated, suddenly realizing that she'd just been ganged up on. Moreover, anything that she could say in denial would only reflect badly for her as if she was trying to cover up or make excuses for what Calca and Remedios had said.
"…" Kelart was wordless while gritting her teeth. Her reputation had just taken a blow in less than three seconds.
For their parts, Remedios and Calca just moved the conversation along.
"My name is Calca, and this is my strongest Paladin, Remedios, and my disorganized Mage, Kelart."
"!" Why? Why!
Kelart would have had started sniffling if only she didn't know that doing so would only make Calca and Remedios's words more convincing.
Seeing what was happening from a distance, Gemas grimly turned his attention away while reaffirming a preestablished belief. Politicians were vicious. Backstabbers, more so.
If Shirou and the others were aware of the subterfuge occurring between Calca, Kelart, and Remedios, they didn't show it. Instead, Shirou didn't pick up on it at all. He even offered a sincere smile and an extra handkerchief to Kelart for the next time she ate snacks. She took it with a strained smile, but rather than thank him, Shirou had the vague impression that she wanted to storm out of the room and cry.
Calca and Remedios were all smiles.
"My name is Shirou Emiya," Shirou introduced himself with a small bow before gesturing for the others to do their own introductions.
Lancelot was first. As the First Knight of King Arthur, he was well versed in the etiquette of a royal court. Placing an arm over his chest, he used his other arm to throw back his mantle as he took a knee, helmet placed by his side.
"Greetings, Milady and Ladies." He inclined his head while temporarily closing his eyes, his posture never breaking from its refined grace. "I am the First Knight of the Order of Knights known as the Round Table. Lancelot Du Lac at your service." He stared up to see three dazed expressions looking back at him.
Lancelot nodded before falling back in line as Gawain stepped forward imitating Lancelot's earlier posture. However, different from Lancelot, the aura Gawain exuded was not refined nor regal, it was one of warmth.
"My name is Sir Gawain of the Round Table. Knight of the Sun," Gawain grinned kindly before withdrawing, allowing the rest to do their introductions one by one.
"My name is Sir Tristan."
"Sir Bedivere."
"Mordred. Just Mordred, I don't need the Sir," Mordred spoke gruffly with an air of ill concealed hostility. Unlike Shirou and the other Knights, she distinctly felt a very different type of danger from the women in front of her, prompting her to go on the defensive. It was at this time that she understood just what purpose she served by coming. "Let's hurry and get this over with."
"You requested a meeting?" Shirou coughed and shifted the conversation back to the matter at hand.
"Uhm, we did?" Kelart said stiffly. She, like Calca and Remedios were still recovering from the introductions. Calca stiffly nudged Kelart on the side to snap her out of it. She flushed in embarrassment as she straightened herself and tried to play off the matter. "W-We did indeed."
"I'd like to ask about the current state of Southern Roble." Calca took the lead after much effort focusing her mind. "There's been word of an attempted power struggle between the nobility and although my influence is not high in the South, as the Queen of the country I at least have a right to know."
It was true. Calca was the ruling sovereign of the country and she had a right to know if only to manage the safety of her citizens.
"There was a power struggle, but it has already been dealt with. Some of the High-Nobles waged territory wars and caused strife amongst the peasant classes. We intervened and sorted out the situation." Shirou roughly summarized the sequence of events. "There's no longer any need for concern."
Calca took a moment to process Shirou's words as Kelart stepped forward. She was the top Mage in Roble so she had always possessed an astute mind. "By intervened, who is we?" She asked.
"The Holy City Camelot," Bedivere spoke up cordially. "It's the newest city founded by our Order of Knights after the turmoil in the South."
A new city? The admission caused a few heated whispers between Kelart and Calca who temporarily put aside their grievances for the sake of the country. Rather than focus on the topic of a new city itself, they focused on 'how.'
The Nobles of Southern Roble were largely hard-headed and egoists. They would never allow a new city to form in their territory without their express permission. The fact that Camelot was formed meant that either the Southern Nobles had all agreed, or that the power of Camelot was too great to supress. In either case, the situation indicated a change in power in Southern Roble. This was either a good thing or a bad thing, but neither Kelart or Calca could verify which option it was.
They needed time and observation.
"Hypothetically, what are your thoughts in setting up an embassy in Northern Roble?" Calca said after some consideration. "It would help foster better relations between the North and South to help mend the divide within the country."
"Fuck n-"
"That sounds ideal," Bedivere, always the pacifist said thoughtfully while forcibly shutting Mordred's mouth. "A country divided is a country that will inevitably fall."
"Then we are agreed?" Calca cordially clasped her hands together.
Bedivere hesitated.
"I'm afraid not, milady," Tristan interjected, expression neutral while stepping forward. "That decision does not fall on the shoulders of I or my fellow knights around me. It belongs to another."
Tristan, Lancelot, Bedivere, Mordred, and Gawain looked to Shirou. Calca and the others quickly noticed such behaviour and understood the implications.
Shirou Emiya was it?
What sort of status did he hold in order to be deferred to with such loyalty?
"I don't see any problems in agreeing," Shirou said while fidgeting under the attention. He didn't think that he'd ever get used to this sort of feeling. "If it helps to save people and provide them a better life, then very well. I agree to setting up an embassy."
The talks of the specifics regarding time and location within Northern Roble smoothly proceeded onwards. Meanwhile, Remedios beamed with confidence when Gawain brought up the topic of sparring against Northern Roble's Elite. The one thing that Remedios prided herself in was her skill, and what better way to leave a lasting impression on a fellow Knight-Class?
Soon enough, the meeting was over.
Calca looked visibly relieved. In fact, she and the Custodio sisters looked exceedingly satisfied with how pleasant the meeting went. If not for how urgently Mordred forced Shirou and the rest out of the room, Calca would have had been certain to invite everyone to stay longer.
In the distance, Gemas sighed.
If only the matters discussed in the meeting could be so easy.
Mend the divide within the country? He only feared that when the residents of the North discovered the ruler of Camelot, there would no longer be a Northern Roble at all. To all the residents of Roble, the Holy Maiden was sacred for the country, far more than its ruling monarchy.
The Kingdom was bound to change inevitably.
He had to go find his wife and inform her of the country's developments as soon as possible. The return of the forces of the Evil Gods was already an ill omen.
"Remedios, Kelart, the two of you are temporarily dismissed. I can handle the development of the South's embassy building myself."
"No, I think not. My Queen, such activities are far below someone of your revered status to oversee. Leave it to us Custodio sisters to handle."
"…!"
The air suddenly became oppressive.
Gemas could hear the start of a heated argument. One in which he had no intention of mediating. That was hell he'd be walking into, and he was no sinner.
It was time to head to the Adventurer's Association.
He discreetly moved to the throne room's exit, and firmly shut the door behind him. He respected Calca's quick wit and political skills, but sometimes he just had to recall that no one was ever perfect. Anyone who said otherwise would only be fooling themselves.
Changes were occurring everywhere within the New World as a result of the meddling of individuals with the best of intentions.
In the Baharuth Empire, troubles still persistently festered outside of just recovering from internal strife. For example, the history of the Empire's rapid expansion from a small city state to its current size meant that the lands that it had conquered or claimed weren't at all harmonized. The situation itself was even worse by the borders of the country where the 'territory' of the Barbarian tribes coincided with the boundaries officially set by the Empire.
Jircniv was developing a headache in how to solve the issue, a hand resting over the gold laurel crown over his head. He grunted before sitting upwards.
Suppression through force was honestly his best method to solve the entire issue. The Barbarians were primitive in technology and could not hope to withstand the martial skill and Steelworks developed by the Empire's finest. There would be a few short skirmishes at the beginning, but over time the Barbarian leaders should come to understand the folly of resistance and agree to an armistice as a prelude to peaceful negotiation.
However, using such a method would surely consolidate his reputation as a tyrant amongst the common people. All the work that he'd ever done, all the stress and hardship was for their sake, and yet it was ironic that he was criticized for his dedication.
Red. Crimson. The colour of blood.
That was him, Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, the Bloody Emperor.
He sighed before his eyes crossed together, staring at the index finger pointed between his brows as he slouched over the chair of a slow-moving carriage.
"Bang."
A playful snort entered his ears as he watched Nero make noises and blow lightly on her finger. "Even for Emperors, thinking too much often leads to nowhere. Often the hardest decisions are solved b the simplest choices."
Nero placed her hands over her stomach and grinned lightly at him from where she sat opposite to him on the carriage. To get matters straight, she wasn't sitting upright. Her back was planted over the velcro-like padding of the carriage cushion and her legs were propped up leaning against the wall.
He'd had a feeling that Nero wasn't the sort to keep still on a long journey, but he'd never thought it would translate to a child's attention span and constant singing. Oh God the singing. He'd already cast sound cancelling magic on his ears that muted out a specific level of frequency and pitch whenever it got too loud, but still it wasn't enough.
Honestly, he didn't know how he'd survived the current four-hour journey to the Empire's West Border where initial talks with the Barbarian tribes were to take place. If it went well, it meant peace, if not then war it will be. He didn't have the time to consider any other alternatives when the base demand of the Barbarian tribes was for the Empire to cede back decade owned land.
It simply wasn't an option, not now with the hit the economy had taken. One good thing about keeping corrupt Nobles around was that they all did a damn good job in running their businesses. Without them, the circulation of currency just wasn't the same in the Empire.
In time, the problem would fix itself, but time itself was luxury with many more problems involved.
It just so happened that the most lucrative materials were not found near the center of the Empire, but near its borders. There was no way that he was allowing that land to be receded because he had plans to stimulate the economy through the materials found there.
"You know, they'll never agree to anything with the kind of face that you're making," Nero helpfully spoke up.
"This is my resting face," he said flatly.
Nero shrugged her shoulders in jest. "You know what you need as an Emperor?"
"What?" He blinked before glancing up.
"Charm. Charisma!"
"Rejected." It was too much effort, and it wouldn't work with the kind of reputation that he had anyway. Rather than Charisma, Fear and Influence would be a more apt negotiation skill for him to possess.
Nero stuck out her tongue before huffing.
He stood up, left the carriage, and directly closed the carriage door on her face.
They'd arrived at the meeting location a few minutes ago and he'd only waited before exiting his carriage to see if Nero could provide him with any sort of inspiration. At the very least, he was relieved to discover that talking with her had removed any tension or fatigue from his mind and body.
He felt refreshed, which was a good thing because he'd need the calm piece of mind.
It was time to personally talk with Barbarians because he couldn't trust any of his Foreign Affairs advisors to do the job properly.
The meeting was to be held within a small tribal tent guarded by men and women armed with sharpened sticks. The tent itself was held together by thread and thick vines that connected to sturdy pieces of wood hammered deep into the ground.
There was a musky scent in the air, kind of like ripened fruit. Not too good, but not too bad either.
Walking forward, he straightened his posture and brushed back a few strands of his hair which ended up over his eyes. In his right hand, he held a few offertory gifts which he felt would be largely unappreciated by the Barbarians at the border because they did not know of their actual value. Still, he'd rather try settling them down with gifts then not. There was always a chance that someone sensible lived within the Barbarian tribes.
As for going into enemy territory by himself, he didn't have the slightest fear. On top of having top-tier defensive items from the Baharuth Empire, the Barbarian Tribes would not dare strike at him. They knew that the strength of the Empire would crush them in retaliation and that wasn't the point of the Tribal chiefs meeting today.
Peace was something that both sides wanted, the conditions of which neither side had just yet to agree on.
"Well? What will it be?" He asked as soon as he entered the tent. In front of him was a group of six men and women arranged around a square table at the center of the room representing the various Barbarian Tribes.
"You know as well as we that the conditions that you've presented to us through letter do not meet or bottom lines," one of them spoke out slowly.
"And you should understand that the conditions I've proposed to you all are far more than what can actually be demanded. Free sovereignty amongst your people, the right to bare arms, open borders, these conditions are favourable as they are. Cede back land? Impossible. With the strength of the Empire, do you think we even need this negotiation?" He adopted a hard stance. In meetings such as these, even an ounce of weakness could be pried open and preyed upon. He was no weakling. He was an Emperor.
Half of the Tribal leaders backed down, while the other half remained adamant.
"We stand by our cause. This land is part of our tradition."
Jircniv released a weary breath. "Is there really no room for compromise?"
"As we see it now, no."
Jircniv's lips thinned. This entire gathering was less of a meeting and more of an acknowledgment discussing the letters exchanged between both parties before hand. This was why he had immediately been able to cut to the heart of the topic without even taking a seat.
He inwardly grimaced, but outwardly gifted the gifts in his hands to each Tribal Leader before moving back towards the exit of the tent. "Remember, the Empire never mistreats its own. Luxuries, securities, medical aid, for the sake of the Empire's people, no expense is too much. However, for our enemies, there is no other option left but the grave. Take your time and consider your options wisely."
He left the tent, and only when he was out of sight, did he let his shoulders sag. The entire meeting was as he had expected. A failure.
Well, maybe it didn't matter very much. His reputation was already that of a tyrant. It wouldn't sink any further anyway after another subjugation through violence.
He stiffened for a moment when he felt a finger press between his brows. He glanced up.
"Bang." Nero acted as if she'd just shot him with an arrow from her finger. "I told you that thinking too much gets you nowhere."
"And I'm of the opinion that thinking too little makes you reticent." He stared absently at Nero, feeling his stress naturally work itself away. "I've yet to be proven wrong."
"Well, maybe you're just not doing it right?" Nero twirled on the balls of her feet, the frills of her red dress rising ever so slightly to reveal a small trail of rose petals floating behind her. "Remember Charm? Charisma? Most of all, Love. If you love your people and your people love you back, then as a ruler, you have nothing to concern yourself over. Through your people's eyes, you are always in the right."
Hmm, it was a unique approach to ruling, but not one that Jircniv couldn't see the benefits of. However, "What does that have to do with convincing barbarians to see reason?"
"Simple. All roads lead to Rome which means that all people can be considered a member of Rome!"
Ah yes, Rome. The Kingdom that has not once ever appeared on the map of the New World. Albeit, he hadn't exactly done much research in the New World's history to verify if the Empire Nero hailed from was real or fiction. It was too much work and the World's history had been scrambled and lost since the events of the Evil Gods descent. Even the Baharuth Empire's history was not dated back to more than a few hundred years because of the loss of relevant records.
Moving on, it was best to get the conversation back on track.
"What's the point of adopting such views?" He asked plainly. As a ruler, what good would it do to openly see other citizens outside of the Empire as 'members' of the Empire?
"Umu. Leave this discussion to me. Remember, Charm and Charisma!" Nero placed a hand over her chest and boisterously left in the direction of the Barbarian Leader's tent, arms swinging in tandem with her legs.
Gah, the hell was she doing? Unlike him, Nero didn't have any protective items or the status of Emperor of the Baharuth Empire to stop the Barbarians from attacking her should discussions deteriorate.
Well, he supposed that there was no harm in trying.
If they so much as touch her, he'd show them why he was called the Bloody Emperor.
Contrary to his belief, minutes passed on into hours with hardly a yell from the Barbarian tent.
Three hours later, and Nero walked out all smiles with the rest of the Barbarian Leaders differently behind her.
The boorish and headstrong tribal leaders at the borders of the westernmost Empire had suddenly become docile, their barbaric tribal armours and weapons once festooned to their bodies now harmlessly placed aside. Even the guards nearby shared his confusion.
What the hell did Nero do?
As if sensing his doubt, she leaned over to speak softly into his ear.
"I asked them to join the Empire and follow under a new cohort with the benefit of designating this land as their home and unit training ground that could only be entered with their permission," She enthusiastically whispered to him, her chin soon craning upwards in triumph. "Talent is not to be wasted or meaninglessly killed, but fostered under the right conditions."
The Barbarians seemed unable to hold back their excitement after what Nero had said to them.
"We pledge allegiance to the Empire! For Nero!"
His brow twitched, his eyes glancing at the way Nero was preening in delight from a position behind him. The childishness of her actions nearly caused his mouth to curve upwards but he had developed his poker face for years.
She beamed at him when she noticed his gaze. Of course, she noticed, her boisterous personality often masking the intellect she held within. That, or she really was too much of an attention seeker. She even puffed out her chest in preparation for praise and sulked when he turned away without another word to accept the Barbarian's declaration of joining the Empire.
At the same time, he thought deeply about Nero.
She was a mystery.
Yet one that he had no intention of solving quickly.
Her energy was life to the people, her methods of governing state so similar but different from his own. Where as he maintained order through strict discipline and law, she maintained order and influence through the praise of the masses.
The Empire and its residents loved her for it in the weeks, now months, that she'd spent in the empire. Even the stricter officials all hell bent on maintaining tradition could not help but crack a small smile in her presence. It was almost like a strict father bending to the whims of a wayward daughter who pouted whenever she felt wronged.
Her expressions were vivid and without deceit in the political mess that was the Empire. It was a breath of fresh air, hell, he'd even heard voices of descent wishing that he abdicates the throne for Nero's sake. Rather than be infuriated, he actually found himself considering it with the thought of 'if it was her, then surely…'
Slowly, methodically in her own way, she was helping to mend the wounds of the bloody purge that he had conducted against the corrupt members of state.
The violence-free subjugation of the barbarian tribes on the Empire's West borders was just one of many other achievements that she'd helped him fulfill.
When the barbarian leaders were finally out of sight, only then did he place a hand to pat Nero over the head in praise. Noteworthy achievements would never go unnoticed in his Empire.
She grinned merrily before bowing her head and slipping away from him in a playful curtsey as if saying 'as to be expected of me.'
Narcissist. The word came to mind as the seriousness of his expression broke away as he grunted in amusement at Nero's actions. For her, and only her, he would allow such behaviour in his presence.
So, keep dancing, keep smiling, O prideful flower of the Empire.
There was more work to be done.
He'd see about fulfilling that request she'd made of him to establish her own theater and a trade line with a Kingdom called Camelot.
Elsewhere, within the vibrant town of E-Rantel, Cu had finally learned to read and write. No longer would he be belittled by brats and children or looked down upon by other adults in E-Rantel's town square.
It only took him over a month to learn, and he considered that fast enough as it was. Moreover, his reputation was already well known amongst the people in the slums and the town's Adventurers Guild which had seen him combat an entire army of Undead.
In all honesty, the Adventurer's Guild had offered him a position to officially join, but he had declined simply because there was no need to judge his strength by a type of metal. Strength varied per person, and his was a kind of strength that his teacher had warned him not to get in over his head about. Walking around with a high-level Adventurers Guild's emblem giving his enemies a rough estimate of his might, was not the most ideal method for him. More so when he preferred fighting to anything else, and a rank of Orichalcum would scare away potential prey. Worse, it wasn't even an accurate representation of his capabilities, only what the Adventurers on scene had estimated him to be.
Well, it wasn't like it mattered. He'd turned down the prospect of becoming an Adventurer because he felt freer going things at his own pace. Inadvertently, he'd already done what was required of him.
He was famous in E-Rantel as the Red Spectre due to his speed on the battlefield leaving only afterimages for ordinary warriors and citizens to see.
"Morning Father Cu!"
His mood inexplicably darkened as a group of passersby crossed the field in front of the abandoned church. More than the Red Spectre, the name 'Father Cu' was far more well known and he hated it. In fact, he liked to pretend that it didn't exist if the townsfolk around him would just stop rubbing it in.
Irritable, he glowered when the group disappeared by the curb lined with cobblestone.
"Yeah, you better run," he grunted before doing his best to quell his annoyance. He couldn't just attack people for cheerfully greeting him.
The other orphaned kids living in the orphanage had gotten accustomed to his presence and simply referred to him as Mr. Cu. It was a minor change to his title, but he'd learned to cherish the small things. Better than being called Father Cu all day like he'd been for the first few weeks.
He'd made progress. Speaking of progress, he looked to the distance where a cloud of dirt and gravel was forming up a storm in the air.
The two brats were coming back from their maiden hunting trip.
He'd been teaching both Charlotte and Chris [The Rune Witch's Spearmanship] for the better most part of the afternoon of everyday. Presently, they'd finally reached a level where they could now effectively hunt for themselves, probably in the adept range of proficiency. Alternatively, that meant that they could now support themselves and that he wouldn't be sticking around for much longer.
He hadn't gotten around to mentioning that tidbit yet, but he supposed it was better now then never. To begin with, he didn't have any intention of staying behind to play babysitter for the rest of his time. He already knew how to read and write, so he should be fine to travel on his own and save himself from any kind of embarrassment.
Now all that was left was to explain it to the two brats quickly making their way back.
[The Rune Witch's Spearmanship] did not just hone the spear skills of a wielder, but was designed to strengthen the body to accommodate for the force of the spear. In some ways, it was why he could basically possess the durability and stamina of a wild beast in battle. Besides, physical strength was the foundation of all weapon and martial arts.
Off in the distance, he could see both Charlotte and Chris bounding through the open fields with towering wild boars strapped to their backs by long rope. The fact that Chris and Charlotte could lift such large boars at their age reflected their future potential.
A good hunt it was.
The both of them seemed to be in optimal condition as well. Sure, there were a few bruises and cuts, but that was to be expected of the two's first hunt. They presently wore a pair of highly durable leather armour that he'd created and enchanted through Rune Magic. Nothing short of a Noble Phantasm should be able to pierce them, or perhaps a high-level weapon of some sort.
Charlotte's hair had grown long enough that she'd been forced to tie it back behind her hair in a pony tail while Chris simply cut his short with the blade end of his spear.
In all honesty, they looked like barbarians, but to Cu, they looked like young Celts. Perfect. His teacher would be proud-maybe. Nothing really phased her anymore anyway.
"Papa Cu!" Charlotte came running first, slightly ahead of Chris as they arrived at the location of the abandoned church, her expression bright. "We did it!"
The other orphaned children were there to great them and a couple of other adults arrived in order to wait to divide the meat. It was a customary practice.
Back when Cu used to hunt for everyone, he'd always bring back far more boars than what was necessary to feed the children. He always offered up the extra to the other people in the slums that it became something of a tradition.
Both Charlotte and Chris excitedly untied the boars on their back and began dividing the meat for everyone to have and cook for later meals. It was only after, that Charlotte and Chris ran up to meet Cu by the back of the Church where he'd been standing on his own.
His actions were odd for Chris and Charlotte because he'd generally be at the front to greet them after training, but both Charlotte and Chris's heart tightened when they noticed the burlap sack slung over his shoulder.
"W-What's going on? Papa Cu, what's with the bag? We have enough meat to go around so you don't have to go hunting very far anymore." Charlotte tried desperately to mask her unease, but she was giving herself away through her strangled tone.
Neither Charlotte or Chris were idiots. They'd learned to grow up fast in their tough childhood.
"You're leaving," Chris said gradually.
"N-No he's not. What are you saying?" Charlotte shook Chris on the shoulder before looking towards Cu. "P-Papa Cu, why aren't you saying anything?"
Cu scratched the back of his head while frowning. "Well, it's because your brother's right. I've long since overstayed my welcome and with this successful hunt, the both of you have proved your ability to sustain yourselves. Neither of you two brats need me anymore."
Charlotte's eyes dilated. "T-That's not true. There's still a lot we have to learn! We can't even touch you when we spar!"
Cu shook his head. "That's different because you can't use me as a benchmark for your progress. At this point, I have nothing left to teach. How strong you both become will be a test of tenacity, talent, and capability. The next time I come back, perhaps you'll actually be able to graze me?"
"…"
Charlotte didn't respond. She could see that her words were proving ineffective. To begin with, the only reason that she didn't want Cu to go was because he was her only father figure. It was the same for Chris, but he was just being less vocal. If one looked at how tightly he was gripping the spear that Cu had gifted him, one could tell that he wasn't fairing any better than his twin.
Cu sighed before leaning down and ruffling both Charlotte and Chris's hair. "Relax. Partings aren't meant to be sad. If you're truly my students then look ahead and see what battles and adversaries await you. From there, learn to overcome them for that is a true mark of a Celt. Now buck up."
Cu stood back up on his feet and straightened his back, watching as Charlotte covered her eyes with and arm and Chris sucked in a breath. "Thanks for everything," he said.
Cu grinned. "If you really want to thank me in any way, then prove to me that my teaching you was not a wasted effort."
"Promise to come back," Charlotte wiped away the tears over her eyes. "Promise."
Cu scratched at his chin. "Fine. I promise to visit the next time I have time. Now take care, the both of you."
Charlotte swallowed audibly while Chris remained ramrod straight while Cu started walking away into the distance.
"Take care!" Charlotte yelled.
Cu merely waved a hand behind him before his form faded at the apex of the hill surrounding the slums.
Once a good distance away and utterly alone, Cu tossed aside the burlap sack and got down to business. In all honestly, he hadn't been given any indication to leave his position in E-Rantel, rather, it was better for him to stay there and further establish himself. However, the matter that he'd been delaying for several weeks now took precedence.
The brats could now defend themselves and the people near them, so it was time to start his own Hunt.
Not only was he skilled fighter, but in his memory of hunting within the woods and fields of Ireland, he was also an exceptional tracker. Like a dog on the scent of a trail, once he caught a whiff of prey, he would never let it go. More so when said prey dared to first bare its fangs at the people under his protection and then at him himself.
He'd seen the figure of the attacker who'd controlled the army of Undead several weeks ago. Better yet, he'd used a rune to mark his assailant's signature.
All that he had to do now, was pursue.
Bending over by a small rock, he inscribed a small rune and watched as the rock levitated off the ground and began speeding a short-ways forward.
He followed as it led him through forested regions, hills, and plains.
If it wasn't for his build and constitution, he probably would have had grown exhausted through the distance travelled. Regardless, he soon ended up at what looked like a buried mound of 'something.'
It was well hidden beneath shifted earth and gravel, but unnatural changes in the terrain couldn't escape his keen senses. The warding magic cast in the area also had no effect on him do to his anti-magic properties which automatically repelled low to mid level magic and skills.
His eyes narrowed on further inspection.
Was that a tomb?
Partially buried, he could make out a white mausoleum-like structure.
He paused before crushing the stone that he'd engraved a rune upon. It would seem he'd already arrived at the destination his assailant must have had been taking refuge within. Tombs were quite fitting for one who wields the authority to command undead.
It was probably best to report his finding.
Unlike Players and normal NPC's in YGGDRASIL, Cu and his fellow comrades were Raid Bosses. They'd never had access to communication scrolls or general Player items because they'd never had a need for them. Raid Bosses were 'stand alone' enemies that required several Players working together to defeat. If Raid Bosses could communicate and call for reinforcement from other Raid Bosses, the game would have had been considered too broken.
However, that didn't mean that 'Cu' as a person did not have any means to communicate.
He shared an art with his teacher known as Rune Magic.
He knelt down onto a knee and using magic funneled to his index finger, he began writing symbols in the air.
He couldn't send anything to extensive such as paragraphs, but knowing his relationship with his teacher, she'd be able to understand him regardless.
Undead.
Tomb.
Investigating.
Location? Now came the hard part.
He scratched the back of his head. Although he'd learned to read and write from Chris and Charlotte, that didn't mean that he learned any basic geography. He'd seen the map of the New World, but he wasn't exactly adept enough to locate himself on that map. The feeling was akin to camping in the wild with no suitable landmarks to orient himself with.
Somewhere near E-Rantel.
His teacher would probably scold him for sending something so vague but give him a break. He was a Fighter, a Hero, a Lancer. In no way was he ever well known for scholarly skill. He'd already struggled to learn the New World's language as it was.
His report done, it was time to scout ahead and see just what he was dealing with here.
With a single bound, he found itself at the foot of the mausoleum. It reeked with the odour of rotting flesh and decayed bone.
Definitely a place for the Undead.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could already see a few scores of walking skeletons wandering aimlessly through the mausoleum's inner halls. He proceeded onwards. They weren't much of a threat anyway and the aura that Gae Bolg exuded naturally warded away the frightened skeletons.
What Cu failed to understand was that he'd just entered something of 'Dungeon,' the owner of which instantly became aware of an intrusion and immediately took action upon realizing just who had trespassed.
Cu felt a sudden shift in the air, his beast-like intuition warning him of the change.
Something wasn't quite right, prompting him to raise his guard. His eyes darted left and right for any indication of a powerful enemy, but what he didn't account for was that the ground under his feet would suddenly disappear.
He fell with little room to reorient himself, causing him to crash into the dirt of a…colosseum?
Inspecting the area around, he came to a swift understanding.
A separate dimension within an underground space.
This tomb was appearing to be far more difficult to investigate than he had initially assumed. It didn't seem like a one-person kind of job anymore.
Well, would you look at that.
His gaze snapped up to the hole between floors that he'd fallen through. It directly closed from high up in the air. Not like he was going to complain at this point, but fuck him. It was always him.
"Cu Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster."
A voice suddenly sounded from behind him, the pungent scent of death wafting through his nose. It was familiar in that it reminded him of the Lord-Class monsters which stood at the top of the hierarchy of Undead within the Land of Shadows.
He turned around, any traces of amusement in enjoying a challenge fading away into black.
Low tier Undead and fools who thought to full of themselves were one thing, but the Lich which appeared in front of him was something else entirely.
The Lich was donned in luxurious robes and a flowing mantle with dragon bone shoulder plates. In his grip, a staff of sorts that he could instinctively feel was dangerous.
"You should not have come here." The Lich's voice echoed, deep and emotionless.
He shouldn't have come?
He gripped his spear, jaw tightening.
Perhaps before, but not anymore.
He couldn't just leave. From the moment that he'd seen his opponent's identity, there was already no changing the outcome. Undead, wraiths, demonic beasts, and resentful spirits should not belong in the land of the living. This was the core foundation of the Land of Shadows and the very reason that his teacher had never been able to die whilst bound to her oaths of protecting the Gate of the other world. As his teacher's student, he would uphold his teacher's vows in her place as was his duty as a Disciple of the Rune Witch of the Land of Shadows.
He owed his teacher too much and he figured that he'd have to fight his way out anyway.
She'd endured enough on her own. Let the disciple help ease the burden.
One man. One Army. The Shield of a Country. It's Child of Light.
He brandished his spear, red magical energy erupting from up and down its shaft and illuminating the crimson of his eyes.
"Foul Lich who hath escaped the Gates of DunScaith." His muscles bulged, veins popping over his forehead as he lowered his body into a forward stance. "For the sake of this spear's namesake!"
The wind danced, the ground beneath his feet breaking into web-like cracks as primal ferocity roared from deep within him.
A True Warrior of the Ulster Cycle.
"I. Will. Purge. You."
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Next update: Vasto of White
(Let me know if there were any typos, I was bit sick while writing this)