Empire of Barshak
Empire of Barshak.
Empire of Barshak.
The current emperor of this land, which boasts thousands of years of vast history, Gaius was once praised as the most perfect monarch on the continent.
He was a wise king who ruled his empire's people as if they were his own body, a devout believer who bowed his head lower than anyone, a father who smiled as if he owned the world at the laughter of his two children, and a tender husband who loved only one woman for his entire life.
On the day the previous emperor passed away and ascended to the side of the gods, Gaius knelt before the sacred altar.
'Gods, grant wisdom to this lowly servant. Guide these people according to Your will.'
Upon his ascension, he dedicated his life to the gods and the people. Sacred temples rose across the empire, and the mornings in the imperial palace always began with Gaius's prayers.
Until then, Gaius firmly believed: the gods were just, and his pious faith would lead the empire and his family into eternal blessings.
Not long after Gaius ascended the throne, a peculiar guest arrived in the empire. They had torn through dimensions, calling themselves "demons." With black hair, slit pupils, and mana surpassing humans, they were objects of terror—but what they extended was not a blade, but a hand of peace.
"Our children are starving. We need a place to stay and food. Please... show mercy."
Unlike their darkness-mimicking appearance, their pleas were desperately earnest. They hadn't come to envy and seize the empire's abundance; they knelt before the emperor, grasping at straws to save their dying kin.
Gaius was eager to take that hand. The empire was prosperous, wasting tens of thousands of tons of food. In exchange for land they needed, the empire would gain the labor and warriors to replace those lost to war—a perfect deal for both.
But the gods thought differently.
Execute the intruders. They are impure beings that must not exist on this continent.
A sudden, razor-sharp oracle descended.
Before he could even panic, the gods' authority descended upon Gaius's body.
The gods' strike, borrowing the body of Hero Gaius—the strongest human warrior—was merciless. The delegation that came for peace was beheaded without a chance to resist.
In the end, the demons declared war. It was the beginning of a blood-soaked tragedy, yet Gaius still bowed his head.
'There must be a reason for the gods' will.'
The price of that faith was horrific. Each demon possessed hero-level might, and half the empire's territory was trampled in an instant.
In that desperate situation, the gods issued another oracle, appointing Gaius's eldest son, Crown Prince Alexis, as the hero.
"Father, I will fulfill my duty as crown prince and uphold the empire and the gods' command."
Before his young son's resolute gaze, Gaius could not speak.
And so the prince headed to the battlefield.
Years later, the empire reclaimed its territory, but the victorious prince who returned was a wretched sight.
One arm severed, leg limping, screaming in nightly fits.
"You're alive... that's enough. My son."
Gaius held his broken son, weeping thanks endlessly.
The prince replied in a trembling voice.
"I'm sorry... I was insufficient and failed to fulfill the gods' command."
As Gaius laid his son in bed, he vowed: now he would go himself. Sending messengers to the Beastman Alliance and Elvenheim, preparing his own campaign—then the gods played another cruel joke.
The second hero. His remaining light, Princess Elysia, was chosen.
"No! The child has never held a sword! She's the empire's genius, not meant for the battlefield!"
Gaius smashed his forehead against the temple floor, begging to go himself, to do anything. But the gods were silent.
Only the hero's blessing shining dazzlingly on his child.
Clinging to faint hope that the saintess would join, he tearfully saw his daughter off.
"Just come back alive. Please return unharmed."
Gaius bit his unyielding lips, crushing her small shoulders in embrace.
Elysia, called the empire's head, suited for a pen over a sword, buried her face in her father's chest clad in heavy armor.
She hesitated, then whispered in her usual gentle voice.
"Father, don't worry too much. The empire's people are waiting... I'll go make peace for everyone. I'll be back soon to stroll the flower garden with you."
Her voice trembled, but her eyes gleamed with the gods' blessing, just like her brother Alexis.
Elysia forced a smile and added.
"The gods are with me, so nothing will happen. I'll go and return."
That was the last.
Shwaaa—.
Only the rain soaking the empire filled the silence.
Gaius stood like a stone statue before the coffins for hours.
Behind him, the pope, archbishops, countless officials stood in line, but his eyes saw only two coffins.
One held his light, Princess Elysia; beside it, the saintess who devoted her life to prayer for the empire and Holy Kingdom's peace.
The saintess who swept battlefields as the gods' voice, and the princess chosen as hero with divine blessing. The continent's holiest, noblest women returned in cold wooden boxes.
The pope and priests chanted hymns praising the gods' sublime sacrifice from behind, but it didn't reach Gaius's ears.
With trembling hands, he opened the coffin. The moment he faced her face, he forgot how to breathe.
Elysia's gaunt face. Stroking her pallid cheeks from starvation amid battle, grasping her hand—hot tears burst from Gaius's eyes.
"Elysia... Father is here. Why won't you open your eyes?"
Her hand was shattered beyond repair.
As if refusing to let go of the sword until the end, her fingers were frozen gripping it.
That fair hand she shyly tended, beaming at the emperor's "beautiful" praise at banquets, was now an unrecognizable lump of meat.
What thoughts did she have gripping the sword with this hand?
Whose name did she call in the cold battlefield?
Gaius pulled her upper body into his arms.
And that day, the emperor called the empire's sun wailed like a beast for the first time.
Emperors do not cry. Emperors do not kneel. But all those rules had already been shattered to dust by the gods' hands.
From that day, the empire's sun lost its light. No—he extinguished it himself.
*
"I do not believe in the gods."
Emperor Gaius murmured lowly, gazing at the empire shrouded in night beyond the window.
The office was silent, shadows holding their breath.
It seemed empty, but in the darkness, a single figure in black robes prostrated like a doll.
"This continent belongs to the living, not the gods."
He continued, his cool eyes fixed outside.
"Isn't it laughable? The moment I turned from the gods and began despising them, those self-proclaimed noble gods abandoned this empire without hesitation. Beings who claim to watch over the continent discarded tens of thousands of my people like filth just because one man's faith broke."
He slowly turned, eyes filled with indescribable cynicism fixed on the shadow.
"That's their mercy, their sublimity. Truly... utterly hideous, isn't it?"
The black-robed figure's shoulders twitched, but he kept his head down.
Deep hatred laced the emperor's voice.
"Yet those cowards dared choose my people as heroes again."
Kaduduk—.
The sound of grinding teeth tore the silence.
"They arbitrarily branded stigmata on an ordinary serf's child who praised the gods, summoned dozens more to force blessings into that soul not yet ten years old. They crammed authority too vast for her frail body, spewing oracles like noise, tormenting and violating that young life for years."
Gaius slowly turned to the documents on his desk.
"Can you imagine how I felt watching that hellish scene? It was mockery toward me—and the basest entertainment at my people's expense."
Gaius stared at an empty point in the air, as if the suffering child's shadow lingered there. His voice sank low, trembling faintly.
"First rage, then pity, ending in sorrow. And what plunged me deepest into the abyss... was guilt."
He clenched his fist. Veins bulged on his pale knuckles.
"Because of my one irreverence, an innocent subject suffered madness again. Instead of punishing me, the gods chose to shatter what I cherished."
He closed his eyes as if to erase the vision in the air. But even behind his lids, the child's screams persisted.
"I could not sit by and watch her die. So I brutally imprinted the imperial clan's secret swordsmanship into that young subject. I gave her the sword only to survive, not to be broken by those vile gods' designed fate."
He opened his eyes. Indescribable icy rage swirled within.
"But do you know what she told me? Only when clashing swords with me, dancing on the edge of death, did the gods' loathsome whispers cease. Only in the vortex of flesh-slicing, bone-carving struggle did she find peace."
A bitter sneer curled Gaius's lips.
"Damn gods branded that fragile life to breathe only in the flames of the battlefield!"
Bam—!
The thunderous desk slam shook the office.
"Hoo...."
Gaius sighed deeply, sinking into his chair.
"So I threw her into the jaws of death. If plunging into the front lines' blood stench was the only escape from the gods' noise, that would be paradise for her. A monstrous hero surpassing even me, clad in dozens of gods' blessings, wouldn't fall to mere monsters—I was certain."
He rubbed his chin, murmuring low.
"I believed she'd endure in that harsh peace for a while. But... what are these reports? Have the gods begun another game, or has her soul finally shattered?"
Gaius's fingers scratched the desk sharply.
"Returning to the empire without my command, bearing the gods' loathsome revelation in her heart. What did those filthy lips whisper to shatter even her peace?!"
His words stopped. Breathless silence dominated.
Gaius slowly closed his eyes.
Beyond his lids, in pitch darkness, his lost son's severed arm and his daughter's crushed body gripping the sword to her last breath flickered like phantoms.
He opened his eyes.
In the instant of silence, the emperor's pupils held no human warmth or lingering attachment.
"I hate the gods. I loathe those abhorrent beings to their bones, despising their very existence."
His declaration spread low into the darkness.
Gaius looked down at the prostrated figure with emotionless eyes.
"Rise."
The black-robed man rose hesitantly. Only with permission did he gasp ragged breaths.
"Hahk, hahk...."
"Looking back, I was truly fortunate. I never knew such an ominous, hideous thing slumbered deep in the imperial vaults. And..."
He approached slowly, leaning down to coldly stare at the trembling man.
"Scouring the empire to find your kind, cowering like rats to interpret that cursed thing—now I see it as a blessing. Sparing you then, bending you at my feet, has borne fruit."
A venomous sneer curled the emperor's lips.
"Who knew your blasphemous knowledge would be the sole key to realizing my wrath? The gods lead me down this vicious path."
At those words, the black-robed man knelt again, forehead to the floor.
"Th... thank you, Your Majesty."
"Yes, is the price for your wretched lives sufficient? That taboo underground... how far has the interpretation progressed?"
His voice trembled thinly.
"Over halfway done. If you wish... we can begin the summoning ritual now."
Gaius's fingers drummed the desk rhythmically. Tap, tap—the sound echoed.
"No need to rush. The blade to slaughter gods must not lack a single edge. Strive for perfection. Past halfway means that taboo will soon fall into my grasp."
Gaius murmured low, sinking deeper into his chair. His venomous sneer flickered grotesquely in the dark.
"Kukuku... A demon. The calamity even those arrogant gods dared not face. That existence will quench this vicious thirst I bear."
"A sacrifice needed for the call? Gold, treasures—I could open the empire's vaults whole. But if a noble human soul is required to sate that hunger..."
The emperor lightly tapped his chest. As if jesting lightly, his voice was utterly serene.
"One soul from me, this empire's master, should suffice. If I can kill the gods, what regret in throwing this husk to hellfire?"
At the emperor's offer of his own soul as sacrifice, the black mage's body jolted.
Gaius fixed him with icy eyes, issuing his final warning.
"Wait a little longer. Before my patience runs dry, prove your wretched skills. Perfect interpretation alone will be your sole plea for life."
The man smashed his forehead to the floor in response.
Gaius looked out the window again.
In the darkness of the empire abandoned by the gods, the darkness they feared most was rising.