Chapter 232
Chapter 232
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Golden Lord (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
On that day, few knew exactly what had transpired inside Delutana's conference hall.
Even those who had been present were no exception. By the time the meeting concluded, more than half had fainted, collapsed from exhaustion, burst into tears, or lost their minds entirely. Fewer than a handful of councilors escaped with their composure intact.
The aides watching from outside offered wildly conflicting accounts. Some spoke of a storm that sealed the doors shut, others of a monstrous head engulfing the hall, or an earthquake shattering the podium, or even the roar of a dragon echoing through. Just hearing the testimonies made it sound less like a council meeting and more like a mass hallucination from collective drunkenness.
Yet even that was relatively grounded compared to the treaty that resulted from the meeting.
Delutana, Galentana, and Vestana—the three great cities' councils—had forged a blood oath. In the event of invasion by foreign powers, they would mobilize all military, political, and economic resources to resist. Any city violating this would forfeit its territories and shares in the Golden Highway, pay reparations of one billion luden, and suffer countless other penalties.
The "Free City Alliance Reformation Treaty." It was a pact reuniting the alliance, fractured for nearly two centuries since its lord vanished and the empire conquered it.
A miracle. Everyone, even children, knew how bitterly these three cities had vied for supremacy. It was akin to trolls, orcs, and goblins from the same neighborhood swearing brotherhood.
Especially shocking was Vestana's participation, given the Magic Tower's perpetual arrogance. Some whispered that Elder Wendigo, the "Endless Tempest" holding two seats on the Elder Council, had been choked unconscious by someone and forced to kowtow to another... though the truth remained murky.
In any case, this reunification of the splintered alliance marked a dramatic turning point in the empire's "holy war."
Of course, it hadn't happened by mere chance. This historic reconciliation was only possible thanks to a mythic event that preceded it.
Most councilors hadn't endured to the end, succumbing midway. But the few who clung on through sheer will heard it—the resounding declaration that echoed through the hall at the close.
"Hear me, you pretenders who dare call yourselves rulers. You turned a blind eye to brothers bleeding for a single gold coin clutched in your fists. But no longer. From this day, the alliance unites as one under the rule of its rightful sovereign. The legitimate ruler who commands all allies bearing noble golden blood, governing the alliance lands from the Great Forest's edge to the northern threshold..."
A monumental proclamation that, in time, every ally would memorize word for word.
"...I proclaim the return of the Golden Lord to his rightful throne."
No sooner had the grand council ended—leaving everyone as dazed as if they'd circumnavigated the ocean in a storm—than the key players reconvened at the Turis family estate.
The "Demon Slayer" Kadim, the "Savior of Untana" Duncan, Acting Council Chairman Enrico, and... the "Golden Lord" Remillion. Figures so monumental that mere gatherings like this would fill history books, now filling the reception room's seats.
No substantive discussions took place. After the day's whirlwind, no one had the energy for more debate. The meeting wrapped with Duncan bowing reverently to Remillion in a haze of awe and Enrico summarizing outcomes while thanking everyone individually.
But two remained seated.
Enrico, who now led Delutana, and Remillion, who might soon lead the entire alliance. These two leaders needed to hash out urgent, practical matters.
Yet Enrico struggled to speak.
By his lifelong common sense, this was no different from a private audience with a god descended to earth. He stared at the returned lord in disbelief, only to avert his eyes repeatedly, deeming it irreverent.
It took about fifteen minutes for the conversation to flow.
"He who saved a city with a single gold coin, who repelled a dragon and returned, the rightful ruler of all alliance lands, the great Golden Lord worthy of all allies' praise... If I may be so bold, might I ask one question?"
"You'll wear your tongue out repeating that. Skip the flattery and ask freely, councilor."
"...Understood. Then, what are your plans from here? Do you truly intend to ascend the lord's seat and lead the war against the empire?"
The response was utterly unexpected.
"I haven't the foggiest."
"...Pardon?"
"Hmm, I blurted it out in the heat of the moment, but honestly, I don't know what to do next. I only stepped out briefly; I still have plenty left unfinished back home. Restoring the ruined Great Forest, brokering the exchange accord between elves and dark elves, tending to that super-sword dragon..."
"...".
Enrico's pupils lost focus, drifting into the void. If the Golden Lord vanished now, how on earth was he supposed to clean up...?
Fortunately, Remillion left him some reassurance before he fainted.
"But I can't very well ignore the alliance's crisis."
"...!"
"For now, set me up as the alliance's figurehead, and leave actual governance to you and the other officials. That alone should rally the allies' morale and unite them against the empire."
Even if Remillion claimed absolute rule as he'd declared, few would rebel.
But after two centuries, he'd become a figure distant from authority or hegemony. He'd merely wielded that authority here because nothing else would sway them...
Yet Enrico seemed troubled.
"Hm? What's wrong? Some issue?"
"No, it's just... presumptuous of me, but wouldn't it be better for you, my lord, to take real power and rule? You unified the eastern continent in the past and now reunite the alliance for posterity... whereas I'm merely a councilor thrust into the chairmanship by a kinsman's death."
"...".
Remillion silently regarded the dejected, insecure councilor for a long moment.
Then he drew something from his bosom and handed it over.
Ting-!
"Do you know what this is?"
"This is... the gold coin you showed before, the one that saved Delutana, right?"
"No, look closer."
Enrico examined it carefully, as if handling a holy relic. Moments later, realization dawned, and his eyes bulged wide.
It was dirtied and scratched, but unmistakably a freshly minted coin.
"After unifying the eastern continent, I failed to honor my promise to the guard captain who returned with this gold."
"...!!"
"To be precise, I handed over the promised gold, then sent disguised soldiers as thieves to reclaim it. It was a desperate time; I needed the budget to appease the conquered nations. The real city-saving coin ended up as that man's fare to the afterlife, so to fool you all, I had no choice but to make this fake."
The legendary tale's hidden underside emerged, unimaginable. Enrico's face fell like he'd been doused with cold water.
"B-but the Boltarud family's councilor demanded proof through that very story! How did you anticipate and prepare...?"
"I curated my famous legends and prepared for every contingency. For the city-saving tale, this coin; for stealing the dragon's treasure, this armor; for facing the fire-breathing lions, the burns on my back. Of course, they all arose from entirely different circumstances."
"Th-then, does that mean the tales of seeking a dragon in your later years and sustaining on dark elf blood are lies too?"
"No, those are all true. Lies work best built on a foundation of truth."
"...".
Disillusionment and confusion struck like lightning, leaving Enrico speechless and rigid. A wry smile tugged at Remillion's lips as he watched.
"Indeed... Unlike what you thought, I'm no noble hero, no great man, no divine being. Just an ambitious schemer who rolled through the mud chasing the dream of unifying the fractured east. Even 'protect each other with your lives' isn't some sacred tenet—it's a stopgap I devised to barely hold this 'alliance' together."
"...".
"Heroes are like gold, really. Mere shiny rocks exalted into treasures by human whim and worship. Strip away the fame inflated by followers, and I might not differ much from the descendants I harshly rebuked today."
Enrico's lips trembled repeatedly, but he swallowed his retort. No matter how well he knew the Golden Lord's feats, he couldn't know better than the man himself. Remillion gazed candidly at the ceiling, the fierce glint in his golden eyes long faded.
But he wasn't denying the value of heroes.
"Yet 'gold' drives people to achieve the impossible. For it, they willingly ally with enemies, dive into hellfire pits, even face mortal foes without flinching."
"...".
"Thus, 'gold' must always shine purely before all people—in the flawless form they crave, hiding every flaw and speck, filling them with illusion and faith's unchanging brilliance. Only then will they surpass their limits and unite in cooperation."
"...".
"Think on it. If gold revealed all its impurities and defects, who would risk their lives for it against an empire backed by the 'true god'?"
A hazy light flickered in Enrico's eyes. The godlike veneer over the man before him peeled away, replaced by a glimmer of vague enlightenment.
Remillion rose with a gentle smile, adding that he'd seek ways to bolster the alliance's strength beyond his figurehead role, and left these final words.
"No matter my renown, I'm a man of the past. True, this world has transcendents like Duke Kadim who defy time's flow... but new eras' histories must be written by new era's figures."
"...".
"When the empire invaded, didn't you swiftly designate evacuation zones to avert greater catastrophe?"
"Yes, but that was..."
"To me, you seem more than qualified to become 'gold' yourself."
No sooner had he finished than the Golden Lord vanished, leaving only a faint glow and a profound riddle. Enrico sat silently in place.
Contemplation descended on the lone councilor.
He chased the afterimage of the hero who shone like gold, pondering his parting wisdom. He tentatively touched the seat where brothers had once sat—now his own. Then, abruptly, he spread out the mountain of treaty documents, scrutinizing details and points needing adjustment with the sharp gaze of a raptor.
On this historic day, two centuries after the alliance's lord departed, when he returned...
A cold resolve returned to the eyes of the councilor with one wing clipped.
"A transcendent defying time's flow? Overly generous praise."
As Remillion departed the reception room, he unexpectedly reunited with a figure. His appearance was as ferocious as any demon's, yet in truth, he was the benefactor who had saved his life and the world.
"Hahaha, given what you've accomplished, it's no exaggeration... I didn't expect you to still be here, though. Do you have business with me?"
"Yes. Better to ask directly than wait around."
Kadim approached Remillion calmly.
It was a simple matter. How fared things in the Great Forest? He was helping the alliance due to circumstances, but having promised to bear Melissa's karma, he couldn't neglect it entirely.
The reply came soon: all was well. The World Tree had been safely restored, sealing the rift; elves and dark elves diligently rebuilt the ruined forest; Rapustran steadily recovered from his heavenly punishment wounds.
Yet Kadim read faint worry behind the dragonkin's face.
"Is it truly fine? You don't look it."
"...".
Remillion averted his gaze, idly scratched his scales, then sighed deeply in lament.
"Sigh... Can't fool your eyes, can I? With all the commotion today, I planned to tell you tomorrow... but since it's out, I'll say it now."
"...".
He said "now," yet hesitated, face darkening as he swallowed dryly for a long while. His indecisive fretting looked nothing like the resolute Golden Lord who'd declared his return earlier that day.
But after hearing the content, even Kadim understood Remillion's demeanor.
"Well... Lilia, the World Tree Keeper, occasionally has prophetic dreams via the World Tree's power, right?"
"...So I've heard."
"In one such dream, Lilia... saw a 'great demon.' No details on when, where, or how it descends—all unknown. But one thing's certain: her prophetic dreams have never been wrong, not once."
The warrior's eyes snapped open like a ghost's. At the bottom of those hollow pupils, shadows darker than nightmares, more vicious than demonic auras, rippled.
But Remillion's tidings didn't end there.
"And she had another prophetic dream besides..."
"...".
"...By any chance, among your old comrades, was there a wasteland shaman with bandages over her eyes?"
A bleak night wind from afar brushed his nape.
Kadim uttered no word, freezing like a wasteland statue.