Even the fruits of his own farming labor had been taken away, and any sign of resistance had resulted in beatings and abuse. He had longed for freedom, but any attempt to escape had ant certain death.
But now, everything had changed.
With a trembling voice, Sergei shouted,
"As a citizen of Xerx, I pledge my loyalty!"
All around him, others echoed the cry.
His wife, Alexa, nodded tearfully beside him. Their son Dmitri, recently admitted to knight school after his talent was recognized, stood tall with pride.
Beside them was Pierre, an old friend whom Michael had brought back to life.
Once a brilliant thinker and statesman, Pierre had been betrayed and killed by a corrupt steward. Now, resurrected as a revenant through Alfred's magic, he had returned with purpose and power. His special ability as a revenant allowed him to inspire and rally others—he had not forgotten his mission, even in death.
With sharp eyes gleaming, Pierre joined in the cheering. If Michael had been an unworthy monarch, he would never have followed him. But now, he was wholly committed to Xerx and to Michael's cause.
Standing beside him was his mother, Natalie.
After losing her husband and being consud by years of grief and despair, her face now looked more peaceful than it had in a long ti. Thanks to the free dical clinic operated by Castle Xerx, she had received regular treatnt and her health had visibly improved.
She still suffered from dentia—she sotis mumbled to herself or confused the past with the present—but she no longer stared vacantly into space or scread in anguish.
Because now, her son stood before her, alive and real.
With a trembling, wrinkled hand, Natalie gently touched Pierre's face, as if needing to confirm that he truly stood before her. Pierre took her hand softly and smiled.
"Mother, I'll always be by your side now."
Tears welled in Natalie's eyes. Not all of her pain had vanished, but at least now, she was no longer alone.
Sergei locked eyes with Pierre across the plaza. A strange emotion stirred in his chest. That they could look at each other like this—alive and free—was a miracle.
Once, they had each fought silent battles in their own ways. Sergei endured the cruelty and starvation of a serf's life. Pierre had been sacrificed by deceit within the noble courts.
And now, both stood again, reborn in new roles and continuing their purpose.
The one who had guided them both… was Julien.
It was Julien, one of Michael's most trusted aides, who had personally chosen Sergei and Pierre for their current roles. Thanks to his recomndation, both n were now serving in key positions within the kingdom's intelligence agency.
Their loyalty to Michael ran deeper than words could express, and it showed in the extraordinary results they had achieved.
Had it not been for Michael, Sergei and his family would still be living as degraded serfs, and Pierre would have remained lost to death's cold embrace.
Now, they traveled across the continent, exposing the atrocities of the Radiant Sun Nation and spreading word of Michael's achievents. The Radiant Sun's influence still ran deep in many parts of the continent. To dismantle it, the truth needed to be known far and wide.
Though constantly busy with their missions, they had rearranged their schedules to attend the coronation. And now, standing in the heart of Xerx's rebirth, their hearts brimd with pride and emotion.
"I would've regretted it for the rest of my life if I'd missed this mont," Sergei said with a quiet smile to Pierre.
Pierre nodded, eyes glistening with shared sentint.
Nearby, Sergei's wife Alexa looked at Pierre with a complicated expression. It felt like only yesterday that she had seen him beaten to death for defying a corrupt steward—yet now here he was, alive and well before her eyes.
Even so, the man before her was unmistakably Pierre.
Catching her gaze, Pierre offered a gentle, knowing smile.
It's no surprise regular people struggle to accept this, he thought. In so ways, I'm glad my mother has dentia. It's probably easier for her this way.
He turned his eyes to the platform, where Julien and his father stood proudly as Julien was awarded the title of Count.
Count Lancaster, Julien's father, cheered loudly, unable to hide his delight at having allied with the right side. It was the sa for Alex and Antoni, who had served Michael since the very beginning. Their loyal service was now rewarded with baronial titles.
Many others received noble titles as well. Though they had been inford in advance, hearing the announcents spoken aloud brought tears to the eyes of more than a few.
Oliver, the long-serving butler of House Crassus, was nad a Viscount. Key figures like Treasurer Lawrence and Accountant Henry were raised to the rank of Marquess.
Even Hope, the healing sorcerer who had temporarily left Emperor Charles V's side to attend the coronation, awkwardly accepted his own appointnt as a Count.
Only one man, Captain Ronald of the royal guard, was granted the rank of Duke. Given the sacrifices he had made over the years, no one objected in the slightest.
The revenants gathered together to enjoy the coronation with cheerful expressions. They had been officially appointed as royal elders, a designation that brought so discomfort to the powerful warriors who now shared the sa rank. But no one dared complain.
After all, even Alfred, arguably the strongest man on the continent, had declined all titles and positions. What more could they say?
Many of the nobles from the northeastern provinces—who had pledged their loyalty to House Crassus early on—were also honored. Now they held dual titles in both Lania and Xerx.
Dominic's eyes drifted to Count Charles, who stood to the side with a bitter smile. Once the master of the northeast and the mastermind behind countless sches, he had refused to ally with House Crassus until it was too late—and so, he received no title.
How the world has changed. Well, I suppose having a capable son helped, Dominic thought.
Louis, Charles's son, cast a wistful look toward Elizabeth. His feelings for her had never faded, but now she was too far out of reach—a woman pursued by emperors.
Both Emperor Sigmund and Emperor Oswald continued to vie for Elizabeth's hand. Yet despite their attentions, Elizabeth's expression remained unchanged.
In truth, she didn't even have the energy to react.
Neither of them is really my type. If I'm going to marry soone, it might as well be soone useful. The Pamir Empire is too unstable…
She was calmly weighing the political value of their proposals.
Sigmund… he may be rumored to be cold, but he's rather cute, in a way.
Not that her judgnt was purely practical.
At the thought, Elizabeth's cheeks tinged with pink. Perhaps she'd grown fond of him after seeing him so often.
anwhile, Michael, standing on the platform, scanned the crowd and noticed sothing odd—his grandfather Alfred was nowhere to be seen.
He had placed Uncle Henry and Aunt Clara in pri seats, and they now waved at him with bright smiles. Michael waved back, ward by their presence. No matter what position or fa he attained, they treated him just the sa.
But Alfred's absence was troubling.
A furrow ford between Michael's brows.
Grandfather… where have you gone?
At that mont…
In a secluded corner of the Argo Mountains, deep within the Sanctum of Death, Alfred wandered through the ancient shrine he had watched over for countless years.
Before him, encased in enchanted ice, lay a woman with long black hair.
She was stunningly beautiful. Her cheeks still held a delicate flush, as if she might awaken at any mont. Her long lashes cast soft shadows across her face, and her full red lips looked ready to speak.
But she had not opened her eyes for tens of thousands of years.
Alfred stepped closer and gently placed his hand against her cheek.
She was his eternal love.
The mother of Henry and Margaret.
The goddess of death and vengeance.
Arabella.
Alfred spoke in a soft, loving voice.
"My beloved… Soon, I'll be able to awaken you. Just a little longer, my dear. Please, wait for ."
Reviews
All reviews (0)