Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Cloud Grand Duke
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< Cloud Grand Duke >
Boom! Crash!
A massive explosion rocked the throne room then, blowing the entrance doors to splinters. The ministers scattered in panic at the sudden crisis, while Emperor Yosrahim hunched down instinctively, eyes bulging wide.
Soon, dozens of armored palace guards burst in through the side entrance, swords drawn as they formed a protective ring around the emperor.
"Treason!"
"Protect His Imperial Majesty!"
Then, with the spring sunlight trailing behind him, a white-haired old man in shabby attire strolled casually into the throne room. He was of average build and plain features, yet even in the grand hall where the emperor and his high officials gathered, he waved his hand leisurely, brushing away the thick clouds of dust billowing up around him.
But the faces of the guards shielding the emperor betrayed no such ease. Trembling with fear, their sword hands shook uncontrollably as they fidgeted in place.
This utterly unremarkable old man was none other than Cloud Grand Duke himself.
"Your Majesty. A vast empire means many enemies as well."
Emperor Yosrahim shot up from his throne on pure instinct. He had no idea what had enraged the grand duke, but one wrong move here could cost him his head. Sixty years ago, this man had single-handedly stormed the imperial palace, cutting through ten thousand guards and knights to behead the tyrant Emperor Rotpfeze—the strongest swordsman in human history.
"Grand Duke?"
"Why did you not tell me?"
Cloud Grand Duke advanced slowly, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent. With each deliberate step, cracks spiderwebbed across the marble floor, shattering tiles beneath his feet. Emperor Yosrahim backed away from the throne.
"What do you mean?"
"Your Majesty. Do you think this old servant will live for a thousand years?"
"..."
"Do you think this empire will endure for a thousand years?"
"..."
"And yet, after I am gone, what will you do? Heaven pitied the empire and sent a true talent, only for you to let him die."
"Who do you mean?"
Cloud Grand Duke shook his head.
"Your Majesty. A vast empire has few true heroes. After I die, who will stand against the orc great hero Grolmogg? Who will root out the seeds of rebellion festering within our borders?"
"B-but our empire boasts nearly forty Master Swordsmen."
Cloud Grand Duke's lips twisted into a shadowed smile.
"Heh. The world calls our kind Mind Masters 'lords of ten thousand.' But that's only because they've never faced us. Forty Masters, you say? Humbly speaking, to Grolmogg, they're no more than a handful of sand."
"Grand Duke?"
"Your Majesty. Why did you let Yahn die? That boy was the only one who could have succeeded me."
Emperor Yosrahim waved his hands frantically. So that's why the old monster had come—because of Yahn's death.
"Gr-grand Duke. I, too, mourn Yahn's passing. But it was unavoidable. Yahn—no, my nephew—caused a massive incident at the Divinum Grand Temple. Before I could even intervene, the Grand Saintess of Flames brought down heaven's judgment. Had I the power to save him, I would have. He was the only son of my sole blood sister. If there had been any way, how could I have stood by?"
"Ah, is that so?"
As Cloud Grand Duke's hand brushed his sword hilt by chance, Emperor Yosrahim flinched violently.
"Grand Duke...! I shall proclaim across the empire to gather all promising young swordsmen. Surely one among them will rival Yahn's genius. You can select and train them into the empire's future pillars. Will that not suffice?"
Cloud Grand Duke let out a hollow laugh toward the empty air.
"Your Majesty. One does not become a Master through genius alone—it requires finding one's own path. That's why, to those under forty, the wall of Mastery seems impossible."
"What do you mean? I cannot comprehend."
Cloud Grand Duke flashed a chilling smile laced with killing intent.
"Your Majesty. Do you think I have slain only one emperor?"
A chill ran down Emperor Yosrahim's spine.
"What...?"
"And do you know why Emperor Siegfried the Great passed so young?"
"I know nothing of it."
"Then allow me to enlighten you. To reach Mastery at such a young age requires shedding bloody tears and howling through desperate trials. Do you think some mere genius could grasp my teachings? We Masters have our own language!"
Cloud Grand Duke bellowed as he strode right up to the emperor and drew his sword, scabbard and all. Karl Grand Duke rushed in, arms outstretched to block him.
"Cloud Grand Duke! What outrageous act is this before His Majesty?!"
Cloud paused mid-step, eyeing Karl with an odd gaze.
"Ah, Karl Grand Duke."
"Indeed!"
"You've raised your son well. To think you'd forge a young heir into a Master. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
At the strange undertone in Cloud's voice, Karl Grand Duke's face flushed red.
"How rude!"
"Still, as the rumors say, you're steadfast. Though I wonder if you're sly... or just blindly stepping forward..."
Cloud Grand Duke glanced past Karl at the emperor cowering behind him.
"What do you mean?"
"You're the most dangerous of all. Then again, the Kingdom of Karl was always the hardest to conquer."
Karl Grand Duke's eyes twitched. His house was the remnant bloodline of the Kingdom of Karl, which Cloud Grand Duke himself had destroyed. The old man was implying he suspected rebellion.
"Mind your words! I shall remain loyal to House Yosrahim to my last breath."
"Heh. As if loyalty is so easily controlled."
"What?!"
Cloud Grand Duke turned on his heel.
"Human lives are like rivers—twisting and turning at every obstacle. Heh heh heh."
"Cloud Grand Duke!"
"Karl Grand Duke. Heed one thing."
"What is it?"
"Rivers flow and flow until they reach the sea. So don't twist too much."
"..."
Cloud Grand Duke walked on, his steps cracking the floor, then slammed the sword he carried—scabbard and all—into the marble with all his might. Without turning back, he bellowed at Emperor Yosrahim.
"Your Majesty! I give you three years! Prepare a million-strong army, along with funds and supplies for two years of war. Then I shall march to the orc plains and claim Grolmogg's head myself. Understood?!"
The emperor's face drained of color. Even for the empire, a million was impossible. Soldiers could be conscripted by force, but the astronomical costs were beyond imagination.
"A million? That's utterly impossible without the full cooperation of the nobility."
"Then name those who oppose, and I shall visit them personally to plead earnestly."
More terrifying than a death threat. Emperor Yosrahim nodded vigorously.
"Very well, I shall endeavor to do so."
"Do not take this lightly. In three years, one of two heads will roll. Either Grolmogg's... or some incompetent emperor's."
Emperor Yosrahim went sheet-white. No choice remained. He had to muster a million troops and the war chest.
"I... I understand. I shall prepare it."
"Then this old servant takes his leave, trusting in Your Majesty."
As Cloud Grand Duke exited the throne room, he let out a quiet sigh. The empire teetered on the brink of ruin, yet its leaders lounged in idle peace.
'Grolmogg...'
Orcs revered strength and flocked to the mighty. They had already rallied under the great hero Grolmogg, eyeing imperial territory hungrily. The only reason they hadn't invaded was Grolmogg's wariness of Cloud himself.
Regrettably, Cloud was slowly dying. His mana reserves crumbled day by day, his vitality waning sharply. He wouldn't last ten years like this.
Reaching Soul Master might turn things around, but sixty years of effort had proven it impossible for humans. No one had ever seen a soul or felt its workings.
Soon, he would answer heaven's call.
'If only Yahn were here...'
Unlike typical Masters, Yahn had ascended at barely adulthood. No amount of hardship could forge such a feat without profound enlightenment into life's true path—a realm beyond philosophy, defying all logic.
With Yahn, they might have overcome this crisis. The boy could have understood his teachings.
Cloud could have imparted all his lifetime wisdom in his final years, then hidden his death to buy time. Grolmogg, having lived similarly, would recognize Yahn's potential and hesitate.
Meanwhile, Ilpein Sideros—one of the continent's three great sword saints from Lumen Kingdom—could keep Grolmogg in check. Once Yahn became a Mind Master, even Grolmogg would falter against two at once.
But Yahn died before blooming. Cloud Grand Duke could only lament.
Now, his death meant the end. Ilpein Sideros was no match for Grolmogg. The Lumen swordsman was a novice Mind Master; Grolmogg, a mature berserker of superior grade.
A silver lining: three Grand Saintesses had recently emerged among the forces of light. But it was mere expediency. Even with the Seven Divine Artifacts, no one could counter Grolmogg's invisible sword strikes or his weaponization of all surroundings.
Mind Masters could only be countered by other Mind Masters. The Seven Divine Artifacts were mere magical tools for slaughtering commoners, symbolism aside.
One path remained: lead an army to the northern orc plains himself and behead Grolmogg, consequences be damned. The orcs would scatter into infighting, too busy to invade.
Even then, it wouldn't quell the empire's internal treachery. He could only hope the power holders handled that.
< Cloud Grand Duke > End