Chapter 145
Chapter 145
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: The Emperor's Endless Struggle
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A grand banquet was held to celebrate the founding day of the Exbrian Kingdom.
Douglas had helped his eldest brother amass the kingdom's wealth, making this the largest banquet in its history.
Countless nobles from within the kingdom and royalty from neighboring countries attended, along with thousands of attendants and knights they brought with them.
Douglas and Christine were exhausted from shaking hands and greeting so many people, but they forced smiles and exchanged pleasantries.
As the banquet was in full swing and tensions had eased among Douglas and the others—
A servant carrying food lunged at Douglas with a dagger hidden under his tray.
Douglas couldn't react to the attack from behind, but Christine, who was standing at an angle, spotted the assassin.
Christine threw herself forward and shoved Douglas aside.
The assassin's dagger plunged into her chest.
The knights immediately subdued the assassin, but he bit down on a poison capsule hidden in his mouth, foaming at the lips as he died.
"Christine! No! Priests! Where are the priests?!"
Douglas cried out in anguish.
Christine tried to reach for his cheek, but she lacked the strength.
Douglas grabbed her hand and pressed it to his face.
"The children…. Please…. I love you…."
Then all strength drained from Christine's body.
"Aaah!!!"
Clutching his dead wife's body, he screamed, his heart tearing apart in pain.
The world-shattering shock caused Douglas to lose consciousness. And once again, he saw the future.
Even more vast information flooded into his mind than before. It was more detailed and stretched out longer.
"Why! Why now!!!"
Douglas awoke in his room and hurled a vase against the wall, smashing furniture in a rage.
"Uwaaaah!!!"
His second child, who had just turned one, began to wail.
He scooped up the child. He couldn't lose this one too.
"This time, I won't make any mistakes."
The timid personality he had until now vanished, replaced by seething fury.
The mastermind behind the assassination was the southern nation of Whiscast, which felt threatened by Exbrian's prosperity. It was Christine's homeland—the country that, in the unaltered history, would be conquered by his eldest brother.
Their plan was to kill Douglas and his eldest brother, then use Christine and the children to swallow Exbrian whole.
He realized now how naive—no, how foolish—he had been all this time.
The kingdom he had built into a prosperous power had ample funds. He immediately mobilized the army and crushed his wife's homeland.
"Son-in…. Son-in-law! Please, don't do this!"
"Son-in-law? When were you planning to stab me in the back?"
"I…. I'm sorry. I must have lost my mind! Ah! It…. It was all that guy's doing!"
The father-in-law pointed accusingly at the Minister of State.
"Have you lost your senses too?! You mad king! Lord Douglas! I tried to stop him! I told this pig of a king to curb his greed."
Douglas felt nauseous. To think he had tried to make peace with scum like this.
"Kill them all."
He ordered the knights, and their blades mercilessly cut down every royal and noble.
"Now, you lead the kingdom."
His eldest brother stepped down from the throne. He could no longer bear the weight of Exbrian's growing might.
Douglas thought it was for the best.
He conquered and subjugated the neighboring nations that would become threats in the future, one by one.
Exbrian surpassed being the strongest power in the northeast and became an empire. Even Beria, which had destroyed Exbrian in the past timeline, was now a vassal state.
It took a full twenty years.
But misfortune struck again.
His firstborn son was dead.
"He was ambushed by the Beastman Alliance on his way back from a campaign."
"The Beastman Alliance?"
The Beastman Alliance? There had been no such thing in the futures he had seen. Nor had his son died.
"Well…. Nobles who mistreat beastmen have been increasing. In response, they've formed an alliance."
"Mistreat how?"
"They…. They turn them into slaves for gladiatorial fights or release them into the mountains for hunting."
The nobles he had empowered to build strength had begun acting in ways that defied history. He had appointed them because they were virtuous and capable, but once they gained immense power and privileges, they committed atrocities.
Racial superiority had existed before. Long-lived and magically gifted elves, dwarves blessed by fire and earth, and humans who held the largest territories—they at least got along decently. But low-grade demi-humans like orcs and goblins, or beastmen with weak influence, received poor treatment.
It had been common sense, hardened over ages, and the powerless couldn't rebel. But the nobles' excessive abuses had driven the beastmen and lesser demi-humans to desperation.
He buried his son's body, drank himself into a stupor, and fell asleep. He saw the future again. It always came after disasters—or when his own life was in peril. He no longer saw this ability as a blessing. It was a demon's curse.
In the newly seen future, the world fought endlessly. Wars raged across the continent without end. Innocents died.
He couldn't sit idle. He ruled the surrounding nations more harshly, exterminating greedy royals, nobles, and slave traders.
Sacrifices followed, but compared to doing nothing, it was a mere speck.
On the streets returning from the battlefield, he saved a dying child. There was no ulterior motive; the child was there, within reach, so he saved them.
Oppressing the nobles led to constant assassination attempts, and he barely escaped death several times.
Thanks to that, he glimpsed the future each time. In this latest vision, the child he had saved on the battlefield became a master years later. He sought out the child again, kept them close, and spared no support.
That child, Joshua, grew faster than in the futures he had foreseen. At a young age, he ascended to master rank and swung his sword without hesitation at Douglas's command.
Borrowing Joshua's strength made conquests even easier.
Finally, he saw a future he liked. One where Exbrian thrived. He lived to a ripe old age and died peacefully, his second son inheriting a splendidly grown empire. The people were happy.
There were still minor issues within the empire—discrimination by class or race, black mages' activities—but the majority were content.
This was the best future among all he had seen. Douglas, who had fought ceaselessly for decades, was exhausted. He didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to rest.
He set everything aside and went to bed with a peaceful mind for the first time in ages.
Then he had a nightmare.
A dream where holes tore open in the world and otherworldly invaders poured out from gates.
But fortunately, the empire had the power to stop them. If he hadn't built up strength until now, they couldn't have repelled those hordes of monsters. Douglas was glad his efforts had meaning.
But the gates weren't the problem. The rift with lesser demi-humans and beastmen had deepened; they crossed to the western continent and formed an alliance. While nations had to focus on the gates, the eastern and western continents were too busy fighting each other.
And all the invaders from the gates trampled every nation on Telus.
Telus's intelligent lifeforms were slaughtered or captured, dragged to another world—but that wasn't the end.
A tiny dot appeared in Telus's sky. Like a needle's prick, that speck slowly sucked in the world. The hole grew, devouring faster and faster.
The hole pulled in not just land and water, but light and space itself, as if resetting the world to its origin. Everything in this world was sucked into the ever-expanding void. The world vanished.
Douglas awoke from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat.
This was no longer just the empire's problem.
He had to stop the annihilation. There was no time for the eastern and western continents to weaken each other in petty wars.
He needed more power. To protect Telus.
He sent peace envoys to the western continent, granting all their demands.
He had turned a blind eye until now, but he arrested and executed royals, nobles, and slave traders who trafficked other races.
The western continent seemed to accept Douglas's goodwill.
But then rebellion erupted in the eastern continent. Families of executed nobles allied with elves and dwarves to form a rebel army.
Elves and dwarves joined, outraged at being equated with lowly sub-races and beastmen.
The eastern-western rift deepened.
Efforts at peace proved utterly futile, no matter how hard he tried. East and west were like oil and water, impossible to mix.
But fortunately, the stronger he made Exbrian, the further back he pushed annihilation.
He hadn't been wrong. Exbrian had to grow stronger—no matter the means.
He had aimed for peace with the west, but if that failed, unification by force was the only way.
Dividing into humans, elves, dwarves—and beastmen with lesser sub-races—meant choosing the former, with superior combat power, influence, and existing imperial privileges.
He crushed the eastern continent's lesser sub-races and beastmen entirely. Only the west remained.
But the aged Douglas had little time left. Ten years? No, could he last five? What would become of this world after his death?
He needed to buy time.
He captured a black mage named Franklin. A talented young man.
"You can use black magic, can't you?"
Franklin's eyes darted around. He had researched it in secret in his basement, undiscovered—how did the emperor know?
"I'm not here to reprimand you. One question: Can you extend my life?"
Joshua held a sword to the hesitating Franklin's throat.
"By…. By offering sacrifices, yes."
He finally convinced Franklin. He gave the black mage death-row prisoners from the dungeons. Their lives extended Douglas's lifespan.
With more time bought, he needed more power. To win wars, he required more masters.
He borrowed black magic's power once more.
He had virgin women impregnated with Joshua's clones.
But the success rate was abysmal, likely due to the mothers' influence.
Sacrifices ran short. He captured beastmen and sub-races for use as offerings.
After countless sacrifices and virgins, he finally created clones rivaling Joshua's strength.
Reinforced with powerful masters, Douglas launched the invasion of the western continent.
In the meantime, his last remaining son died. Douglas had outlived him by continually extending his life. He had offered the same magic to his son, but the boy refused.
Like Christine, he was upright in character.
He sent off his son and pressed the war. Victory seemed imminent.
But inexplicably, allied clones defected to the west. His forces suffered massive losses.
Joshua killed them, but the future had diverged greatly from what he knew.
To prevent repeats, he subjected new clones—while still young—to intense brainwashing.
Joshua loyally served the emperor. The emperor confided in Joshua about his visions of the future.
Joshua's loyalty, already fierce, soared boundlessly upon learning his lord's grand purpose.
Thus, Joshua permitted offering his own blood to strip the will from his clones—extensions of himself, like children.
Despite such support, annihilation was only delayed, not averted. Worse, the doom he had pushed back was drawing nearer.