Clack! .

Clack!

Clack!

The mother spider worked its way around, and its children sorted everything they received. Boxes upon boxes, as big as a dozen meters wide and deep. Filled with pages with dotted codes, a hundred, a thousand, a million—unquantifiable.

Project Sky Eye worked flawlessly under the hidden floor of the Pope’s Palace. Intelligence gathered from every part of Sol, from every single noble house, whore house, tavern, gambling den, monastery, and even the battlefield. The ever-expanding network was still not at its full capacity, and yet the information coming into that room seemed impossible to manage.

But magic was magic, and miracles were a common sight in the land of Solis. Complex machinery working on magical energy continued to sort everything, from coded dots to words, then sorted based on the area, the category, and the severity.

Anything coming from monarchs was in one place, Dukes, Marquis, Counts, Viscounts, and Barons all had different categories. The Sky Eye wasn’t in the sky, but in the pockets, in the buttons, in the little bracelets, rings, or Rank Plates issued to all wizards and knights by none other than the Holy Land.

And at its help were only a select few men: Cardinal Rex, Cardinal Lazark, Cardinal Gabriel, and Pope Sylvester. Of course, the undeads were a great help in ensuring operations and notification methods in case something important was found.

Reports were compiled by the hour and reviewed. In case anything happened, it was reported.

Just like now.

…

Back on the upper floor of the Pope’s Palace, Sylvester called the Sanctum Council to come and report as soon as he finished the day’s Holy Court.

After the dramatic turn of events that he easily predicted and steered, he decided to act openly, but slowly; allowing all the pieces to fall into their places before he even made one move. The aim was minimal violence and minimal resistance by any.

“Start preparing to interfere in the war. Leyon has already won over Gracia and Highland Kingdom. Riveria and Blackhart are left, but I have no doubt they will fall as well. However, we must wait until that happens so that I don’t have to reprimand or fight our allied monarchs. By simply dealing with Leyon, we’ll be taking back all of Sol—as the new rulers,” Sylvester declared to his most important Cardinals. There were even the older Cardinals present who lived through the purge, such as the ex-Saint Wazir, Ethias Lovecraft.

After a brief silence, Gabriel tried to speak and resume the discussion, “What would you have us do, Your Holiness? Anything specific?”

“I’ll do all the fighting alone, but if everything goes well, there won’t be any fighting needed. You all only need to ensure efficient administration across Sol. Once Leyon falls, the territories he has conquered in the West will be without any leaders. Bad elements could arise, or law and order could deteriorate into excessive riots. We don’t want that, so put all your focus on administration.

“First Guardian, Raz, you will go and set up your office in the West, at the Marashia Combined Economic Zone. Oversee the security and administration from there. Guardian Julius, you will do the same on this side of the continent. Saint Medico, send any spare relief medicinal material you have to the areas that require it.

“Inflation also harms bellies. So ensure no illegal hoarding of food takes place, the prices remain stable, and nobody sleeps hungry. We had built grain storages a long time ago, so it’s time to use it. Remember, we can’t afford riots or an unhappy population at this stage.”

Sylvester gave plenty of instructions to each of them. Although there weren’t enough Guardians of Light, there were still plenty of intelligent minds in the council. There was also Felix, and Elyon, who were free to focus on the security aspect of the two sides.

Eventually, everyone agreed with his plan and left one by one.

‘Why is he remaining behind?’ Sylvester noticed Julius eyeing him longer than anyone else and even staying behind in the meeting room.

“Is this it?” Julius asked. “Is this what you always wanted? To be the world’s single ruler?”

‘He must have suspected my involvement already.’ Sylvester had no doubt about that.

Sylvester silently gazed away from Julius and looked down at the white stone table. A deep breath escaped his mouth, a sense of helplessness appearing. “Julius, I have zero confidence that we can stop the Primordial Gods from doing whatever they want to do to us. But if we want to have even a speck of a chance, we have to be united. My shoulders need to be protected and peaceful.

“I gave them a chance, many actually. But you have witnessed it all with your own eyes. The war in the West, the appearance of the Tears of Solis, the inhumanity in the northern mountains, and the recent actions of the biggest Assassin Guilds. With such conditions, could you have guaranteed me that the world would have remained peaceful behind my back? When I’m battling who-knows-what inside the Demon Realm?”

“Becoming the Emperor is your solution?” Julius interrogated back. “I understand your reasoning, but you can’t be changing one Emperor with another. What is stopping another powerful man from rising and challenging it in the future?”

“I never said I would be an Emperor, Julius. This is merely the first step to abolish nobility. The first step is to declare everyone as equal.”

“Where will the nobles go then?” Julius followed up.

“They will remain where they are. They won’t own all of the lands, but will still be given plenty, and they will get to keep their castles. They can become merchants, or perhaps turn their magnificent castles into luxury inns for all I care. But the point is that there shall be equality, and even a commoner will be able to own land with his own name on the deed, not at the mercy of some noble.”

Julius didn’t ask any more questions after that and simply looked down in a daze. Trying to visualize the dream that Sylvester had shared, he couldn’t help but agree that it sounded great.

“What if we can’t defeat those ‘gods’?” Julius asked one last question before leaving.

Sylvester shrugged tiredly. “Then nothing matters, my friend. We’re all nothing but dead men walking.”

Knock! Knock!

The door was slammed open just after the knocks, and Gabriel reappeared with a page in his hands.

“It’s over! The last two have fallen.”

…

Leyon the Conqueror, the name was known by every man and woman in Sol by now. The speed at which he conquered kingdoms was nothing magical, and even those nobles who saw their sides fall couldn’t help but be left in awe.

Once Gracia and Highland fell, Riveria was stuck between two kingdoms that were already Leyon’s. From there, all the supply lines to the southern battlefield in The Patch were cut, and with that, Riveria fell with ease.

Thereafter, the Blackhart Kingdom had no choice but to surrender before too much damage was inflicted on an already healing land. One by one, all of the monarchs knelt before Leyon, a man of common origin, who didn’t even have a surname.

But, he still proclaimed himself a man of God, a man of faith, and loyal to the service of the Church. So, with the kings and queens who surrendered to him, he chose to travel to the Holy Land in order to receive the holy permission to form his Empire.

With just a handful of soldiers, he reached the Pope’s Palace, and under the scrutiny of hundreds of Holy Knights, he was guided into the Holy Court. The place was packed with people, more than ever in its history. This time, there were fewer commoners, and many more nobles and Clergymen.

“Enters the self-proclaimed Emperor of Sol, Leyon of Sorland,” the herald shouted once the gates opened. “Following him are Queen Isabella Gracia, King Atrox Highland, King Kaecilius Silvanus, and Queen Xylena Blackhart.”

Amidst the intense murmurs of the waters, the entourage walked into the hall, between the onlookers, and arrived at the base of the platform of the Pope’s Throne. There, they all knelt down without a word spoken.

Clank!

Sylvester rose from his seat then, and with that, the crowd went utterly silent. He raised his spear, with his body covered with fine regal armor made by the dwarves. He walked down the stairs slowly, making metallic sounds with his armored boots.

“Why have you come here?” He asked.

Leyon, still in his normal-looking leather armor, looked up. His brown eyes and average looks hid his achievements well. “I wish to receive your blessings before I formally create the Leyon Empire, Your Holiness.”

“And why should I bless you for such?”

“Because I believe in the guidance of Solis. Born as a mere commoner, I have arrived here only because the Lord blessed me. I have the mandate of the light, Your Holiness. I am the one chosen to spread peace,” Leyon added.

Sylvester finally reached the main floor and stopped a foot away from kneeling Leyon, looking down at his face. “Yet, all you have done is spread chaos and death. You tried to repair what was never broken.”

Leyon smiled and silently stared at Sylvester’s face. Just as the last time he had seen it; Just as warm and powerful as that time. His lips shivered, and his eyes started to well up with unknown tears. He felt no fear, nor pain. There was only happiness and excitement—yet tears.

“Y-Your Holiness…” Leyon called him. .𝒎

Sylvester leaned down a little, his eyes filled with compassion and admiration as he whispered. “Well done, son of Solis.”

Leyon broke down in silent tears and smiles, prepared for what was to come.

“Thank you… For giving me a reason to live. A goal so grand, so divine, so kind… to a mere commoner… Thank you, for your blessings—”

Thud!

And so there was blood, a head on the floor, and a body still sitting. So sudden, so crimson, for the grand, divine hall, it didn’t seem fitting.

But this was the reality, and in pursuit of life, there was no place for morality.

‘You won an empire by yourself, and the history shan’t forget. May your soul rest in peace, Leyon of Sol… May you find the holy grace, may you feel the Lord’s embrace.’

_________________

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𝑖𝘦.𝑐𝘰𝘮