Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Refugees
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The emperor couldn't hide his uneasy expression as he watched the people kneeling in the throne room.
The high priests of the temple faction, who had been in meetings with the empire's ministers upon hearing the news, had all rushed to the scene, their faces etched with bewilderment.
The emperor's mere frown was enough to make his subjects anxious. For him to show such open dismay meant this was no small matter. These kneelers were figures who would slip away like eels even if the emperor personally requested an audience—they were the elite of the Citadel Republic.
So, was it satisfying? Not in the least. A ruler wouldn't pull something like this without reason.
The emperor, along with the assembled ministers, was utterly baffled as to why these people had come en masse to the capital and dropped to their knees. Why were they, nobles of another nation, bowing to them?
"Where is Apprentice Andolph? He didn't come?"
The emperor scanned the room, starting with the familiar faces. That man, practically the head of the Citadel Republic, was the only one here whose stature somewhat matched his own. He was qualified to stand tall.
"Your Majesty," an elderly man finally rose and bowed at the waist to reply. "The Apprentice remained in the Republic. He says he will meet his end there. We tried persuading him several times, but he was resolute to the last."
Even the emperor recognized this old man's face. It was Jayden Motabil, one of the Citadel Republic's top elders. The emperor's eyes flickered oddly upon confirming it.
This was the man who most vehemently claimed that money need not be the handmaiden of power. And yet, here he was, kneeling before authority.
No one had demanded it, but suddenly, those stubborn knees had bent.
And to meet his end? What end? The nobles murmured despite being in the throne room, unable to hide their agitation. Everyone knew the Citadel Republic was a small nation in territory but a genuine powerhouse in wealth and military might.
Its population was low, yielding few superhumans and transcendents, which kept it from raising its voice on the international stage. But in naval power alone, it was the continent's unrivaled best.
Such a nation, facing extinction? Unease flickered across the three archbishops' faces. Could this be the demons' doing?
"Emperor Harma El's full assault?"
"But the Citadel Republic crumbling like rotten straw...?"
"We may have overestimated their forces."
Grand Duke Valder rose from his seat to speak.
"Councilor Motabil. May I ask one thing?"
"Speak, Grand Duke."
"Why such humility? Why is the Republic facing its end? If it's the demons, doesn't the Citadel have Aldehir followers too? Did Harma El personally lead a raid?"
"The Kalderan Mountains are on the verge of erupting."
At those words, all eyes turned to the continental map hanging on the throne room wall.
Those who grasped the scale of the Kalderan Mountains gasped, drawing in sharp breaths. This map, surveyed from the air by Aldehir priests, was renowned for its precision.
Even if it matched only 80% of the actual size, this was no ordinary affair.
Serious? Far beyond that. An unprecedented catastrophe. Everyone instantly understood why the Citadel Republic, at the height of its power, was already fretting over doom.
"Then that rumble and shaking just now..."
"Most likely from the very place Your Grace imagines, yes. And this is just the prelude—already, ash blankets the Republic, visibility near zero."
Merchant Alliance Chairman Gileard Ranvolt spoke gravely. Vibrations from those distant Kalderan Mountains had reached even here. So what must it be like right at the epicenter?
Earthquakes had razed once-glorious cities, the range ablaze as if on fire.
No one, it seemed, could save the Republic from ruin now. Lava spewed forth, ash choked the world. Yet this was merely the harbinger, not the true eruption. That was the real terror.
All this damage was just a fraction leaking from the rampage of the Immortal Monster Bird within. Once pressure exceeded the threshold and the slumbering Kalderan supervolcano awoke in fury, the Citadel Republic would plunge into hell, none spared.
None dared imagine the scale of the aftermath. Upon hearing that the Immortal Monster Bird—Phoenix—had triggered a massive volcanic eruption, everyone in the room recoiled in horror.
The three archbishops could only exchange dazed glances, while Gileard pleaded with them, rendering them speechless.
"Archbishops, please—there's still one last resort. Kill the Phoenix before the full eruption, and the worst can be averted, the blast delayed."
The Citadel Republic teetered on the brink. Its councilors all but begged. Money, interests, beauties—they offered anything, swarming with desperation. But each time their earnest eyes met his, the emperor averted his gaze, as did the archbishops.
Archbishop Armata whispered softly.
"Halonen. Can the goddess you serve overcome this crisis?"
Archbishop Halonen fell silent. Could the Earth Goddess, Lady Nemi, suppress a supervolcano eruption? Even if so, at what immense cost in power?
And even if suppressed, would it matter? Forcing down what must erupt only compressed the pressure further—it wouldn't vanish.
It would merely wait, pressed down somewhere deep underground, for its moment to burst forth.
Could Nemi's power fully seal that might?
Even if possible, the divine power expended would far outweigh returns. More than what Nemi's followers in the Citadel could provide—vastly more.
*Pushing down the lid of a boiling cauldron by force avails nothing so long as the fire rages beneath; it only drains your strength endlessly.*
Worse, the culprit behind this anomaly: the Immortal Monster Bird. Subjugating it might save the Republic, but that was the crux of the problem.
Everyone knew the eruption loomed.
Slay the beast in time, and it could be delayed. Fail, and those hunting it might face the blast head-on. Nature's fury operated on a scale incomparable to human might—masters or no, they could perish in the volcano's maw.
*It's a gamble. One not worth taking.*
Even assuming otherwise, was Phoenix so easily felled? Even mustering the Church's elite—three saintesses at the fore, all holy knights—no victory was assured against a Monster King.
It had clawed its way past countless beasts to claim the title of Monster Sovereign. Its strength defied measurement.
"I know the Republic houses three masters. Where are they now?"
The emperor cleared his throat, snapping everyone from their reverie. The councilors hesitated but confessed. The Republic's final gambit had failed. Three masters had gone after one beast and perished.
"Hammer Warrior Dullen. Frost Lord Eorin. Farmer Paradine. All three fell to Phoenix."
Hearing this, no one itched to hunt the monster. Phoenix, Phoenix—just the name chilled legs to jelly. To think it could incinerate three masters at once.
The mere report sapped their will. To most, this wasn't worth agonizing over.
It was another nation's plight, far across distant seas.
How could the Empire aid amid the Kalderan volcano? They sympathized, but send an army? Or the emperor's secret weapons, Rayman and Geher?
If only slaying Phoenix guaranteed delaying the blast—but life was uncertainty incarnate. Danger lurked in the unknown.
Would Rayman and Geher even volunteer against the terror that bested others—Grimudo's pet bird?
And even if they did, the emperor had no intention of sending them. Lose them to eruption or a destroyed teleport gate, and the fallout would be dire. No prize merited such risk.
"We sympathize, but the living must survive."
Even Archbishop Ariche of the militant Elysia Church among the Three Gods faiths offered mere words of comfort—no vow to dispatch holy knights beyond the gate.
To the Church too, it held no such value. Realizing the room's chill, Councilor Motabil sighed. He'd foreseen this.
People knew people best. Would humanity's love run so deep as to rally for a monster hunt?
Merchants thinking otherwise doomed any venture. Humans were selfish—that they knew best.
Thus, this plea was mere groundwork for highballing in negotiations. They weren't truly asking for monster-slaying aid—who would join? Start big, then scale down.
"Fine. Very well. It seems the day has come to discard the name 'Republic.'"
The old man, half-acting, half-sincere, shed tears and choked out the words.
"But a nation may die—its people must live, no? Aldehir's airships ferry evacuees, but they're woefully short. Please, use this teleport gate to shelter our citizens in the Empire?"
"Your Majesty, spare us this mercy too! Who knows how many will die if the volcano blows."
A few thousand? They might grit teeth and let them perish.
But ten myriad at least, likely more. Who could condemn them all? A Three Gods archbishop, bound to nobility? The emperor?
Silence stretched as none spoke. Arden, standing aside, bit her lip in turmoil. Her father's words now rang utterly true.
What could a million superhumans—or ten million—she yearned for do against this Phoenix-summoned crisis? Numbers couldn't halt a volcano.
*Father was right about everything.*
Why the Hope God bestowed the Lineage Sapling—the emperor's theory.
It gained stark reality. Grimudo had indeed stirred, dooming the Citadel. Next? This Empire, perhaps?
Topple Grimudo before then—that the Hope God's will? The thought chilled her spine. Deep down, everyone knew: the North Pole's denizen was truly mighty.
Yet barring a scant few, few heeded him. Untouched, Grimudo stirred not—none grasped his power, none saw threat.
To many, he was the world's strongest mere backdrop.
Now, that demon king's might had glimpsed the continent at last.
Temple faction, emperor's faction—all factions fell mute. While they vied covertly for the throne, Grimudo dispatched one bird to unleash inescapable calamity.
Was that not true terror?
All grasped why the North's one was Demon King. Who else but a demon king could wreak such?
Now, all pondered Grimudo's next move. If the Empire, then throne squabbles and plots became petty family feuds. House ablaze—what point quarreling over the master bedroom?
"Archbishops. A word with me?"
"Certainly. We've longed for this."
The emperor rose; the three archbishops followed.
Instinct told them: no time for strife. As he departed the throne room, he summoned Finance Minister Valens to handle the rest.
"Consult the Finance Minister for remaining matters."
With Grimudo possibly targeting the Empire next, the emperor had no leisure for Republic woes. Clutching his aching head, he muttered.
*Dire straits. Truly dire. The world defies plans, but why this crisis now? Why does the Demon King stir in such times...*
In truth, it was nothing much. A bird, out for a stroll, had rubbed against a spot it fancied and bathed in lava—that it was Phoenix turned whim to disaster, confounding hearts.
Ignorance-born fear allowed resignation.
But knowing yet impotent—that was true dread.
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