Chapter 283: Conclusion (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 283: Conclusion (3)
At first, he doubted his own ears.
To think someone would dare demand that he—the representative of the Kronos Empire, a man who spoke with the authority of the Emperor himself—get down on his knees.
His face contorted. In that moment, anger eclipsed his fear.
"What did you just say? Kneel?!" he snapped. "I came to Cairo to deliver the stance of the Kronos Empire and carry out His Majesty the Emperor's will. As you said, the war is not over yet. Do you truly intend to completely ruin your relations with Kronos with such rash words?"
"And if I do?" Roman replied. "Will Kronos withdraw its offer of a ceasefire?"
"...?!"
Baron Charlton faltered, completely flustered.
He had been certain that Roman Dmitry would have no choice but to back down at the threat of "ruined relations." A full-scale war with Kronos meant utter destruction. Even if Dmitry miraculously won, the collateral damage would be catastrophic. Thus, Charlton had assumed that Dmitry, too, secretly desired a ceasefire.
Yet, Roman Dmitry didn't back down a single inch.
Seeing his indifferent attitude—one that suggested he couldn't care less if the war resumed—left Baron Charlton completely speechless.
"Baron Charlton."
His voice was chillingly cold. Roman Dmitry took a step forward.
"Let me make this clear: I have no intention of ending this war with a half-hearted result. So, if you want a ceasefire, fix your attitude. If you keep holding your head high and looking down at me as if you are the victors, I will cut off your head right here to demonstrate my resolve to continue this war against the Kronos Empire."
Step by step, Roman drew closer.
Though he held no weapon, with his martial prowess, killing the baron barehanded would be child's play.
This guy is completely insane!
Panic set in. Baron Charlton desperately wanted to maintain his composure to the bitter end as the representative of the Kronos Empire, but knowing Roman Dmitry's reputation, it was impossible. The incident with Kortas was proof enough. Roman Dmitry had taken prisoners, yet instead of using them as strategic leverage, he had shown unwavering ruthlessness.
It was a terrifying resolve that brooked absolutely no compromise with the enemy.
Remembering the grim fates of those who had died back then, Charlton realized that stubbornly keeping his mouth shut was no longer an option.
Step.
Roman Dmitry stopped right in front of him.
The moment he met Roman Dmitry's downward gaze, Baron Charlton instinctively fell to his knees.
Thud.
"...My apologies. As the representative of Kronos, I should have observed the proper protocols, but I overlooked the reality of our wartime situation and made a rash mistake. Please, appease your anger. The Kronos Empire does not seek mutual destruction with Dmitry; we simply wish to discuss a ceasefire through a reasonable compromise."
* * *
It was an astonishing sight.
For someone representing Kronos to show such servility was entirely unprecedented.
Baron Charlton's face flushed bright red, but from the moment his knees hit the floor, he had lost all courage to assert his pride.
Roman Dmitry spoke.
"We do not trust a ceasefire agreement with Kronos. While it may signify an end to the war for now, no matter what terms we agree upon, mere words cannot bind the logic of power and war. Baron Charlton, if the Kronos Empire truly desires a ceasefire, we expect a clear demonstration of sincerity, not just empty promises."
"...What exactly do you mean by that?"
Technically, this war had begun with Dmitry's declaration.
However, anyone well-informed knew that Dmitry's wrath had been provoked by the Kronos Empire's repeated aggressions. The true responsibility for the war lay entirely with Kronos. They had displayed an arrogant attitude that blatantly disregarded continental law, and there was no guarantee they wouldn't act the exact same way after signing a ceasefire.
Those who crossed the line once would always cross it again.
That was why he did not trust a single word from Kronos.
What Roman Dmitry wanted was not a mere verbal negotiation, but clear, tangible proof of Dmitry's victory. Unless those terms were met, he was fully prepared to fight to the bitter end. Accepting a ceasefire did not mean abandoning his hostility. If, as Isabelle had said, there was a mastermind behind Kronos, he simply needed enough time to prepare for them. He had no intention of catering to the enemy's whims at the negotiation table.
This was simply another kind of war.
The ceasefire declaration uttered by Kronos would become the cornerstone of the new Kingdom Alliance that Roman Dmitry envisioned.
"Five hundred thousand gold. If you pay that much in war reparations, I will accept the ceasefire agreement."
"That is an absurd demand!"
Baron Charlton flared up.
Five hundred thousand gold.
At such an unimaginably astronomical sum, he couldn't help but forget his fear and explode in anger.
His furious display while still kneeling on the floor was laughable, but there was not a single trace of amusement in Roman Dmitry's eyes.
"If you show that kind of attitude once more, I will consider these negotiations broken. Innocent citizens of Cairo and Dmitry died in this war. If you do not provide proper compensation for that blood, how am I supposed to explain a ceasefire to those who lost their families? Baron Charlton, I want the spoils of victory and clear compensation. To prove to my people that their families' deaths were not in vain, I want a definitive outcome, not just a vague implication that Dmitry defeated Kronos. That is my sole condition. If you do not accept this, I will never negotiate a ceasefire with Kronos again."
Charlton was rendered speechless.
Roman's uncompromising attitude made his head spin.
It was a condition he could not possibly accept on his own.
Even for a professional diplomat like Baron Charlton, agreeing to pay five hundred thousand gold was far beyond his authority.
He swallowed his anger.
Since he couldn't afford to ruin the negotiations, he tried to turn the tables in his own way, his voice trembling slightly.
"...Do you not intend to include the Odelia Kingdom in these terms?"
If Roman desired Odelia's survival, Charlton could use that as leverage to negotiate down the five hundred thousand gold reparation.
However...
"Why are you asking me about the fate of people who aren't even mine?" came the flat, decisive reply.
Staring into those terrifyingly cold eyes, Baron Charlton realized down to his very bones exactly what kind of man Roman Dmitry truly was.
* * *
The negotiations were put on hold.
The Emperor's decision was required, and upon returning to Kronos, Baron Charlton reported everything he had experienced.
"...That is the situation, Your Majesty. Roman Dmitry's arrogance pierces the heavens. If you give the word, I will scrap the negotiation table and show the world the true terror of the Kronos Empire."
He bowed his head.
By speaking so vehemently, he hoped to incite a war that would avenge the humiliation he had suffered.
From above, there was only silence.
When Baron Charlton finally looked up, the Kronos Emperor was staring down at him with an utterly indifferent expression.
"The moment we accept Dmitry's terms, the continent will gossip about the defeat of the Kronos Empire. Five hundred thousand gold is a sum with that kind of impact. However, Baron Charlton, I clearly ordered you to make these negotiations a success. Rather than Dmitry's arrogant demand for five hundred thousand gold, I feel a surging rage at your weakness—failing to conclude the negotiations properly and kneeling before such insignificant bastards."
In an instant, Baron Charlton's face turned deathly pale.
Just as he was about to hastily beg for forgiveness, knights acting on the Kronos Emperor's signal swiftly pinned him down.
Slam!
"Argh!"
His head was slammed against the ground.
Pinned to the floor, Baron Charlton screamed, the veins in his flushed face bulging.
"I-I have committed a mortal sin! Please, forgive me just this once! If you give me another chance, I will never displease Your Majesty like this again!"
"I intend to use this ceasefire as the final preparation stage for my continental conquest. I will see with my own eyes which bastards dare rebel against me, and who cheers for Dmitry's victory. I will keep them all in my sights and tear them to shreds in the near future. In the future of Kronos that I envision, even if we suffer a temporary setback, those who tarnish the empire's prestige are not permitted to exist. Therefore, accept your death."
"Y-You...!"
Baron Charlton struggled desperately.
Just like Roman Dmitry, the Kronos Emperor knew absolutely no compromise.
At the metallic scrape of the knights drawing their swords right beside him, realizing his death was certain, Charlton shrieked at the top of his lungs.
"I have devoted my life to Kronos! I crawled like a dog at your every command, and you would kill me like this just because I knelt once?! You people standing by and watching are no different! My fate could be your future, yet you truly intend to just stand there and watch me die?!"
He condemned the surrounding nobles of Kronos.
He glared directly at Marquis Memphis, who held significant influence among them, but the Marquis merely averted his gaze.
"If I die, my spirit will remain in this world and curse you all—!"
Thwack!
A sword plunged down.
Blood splattered, and a severed head rolled across the cold floor.
Baron Charlton, a man who had devoted his entire life to Kronos, died just like that.
* * *
"Hehehe."
The Kronos Emperor—no, Alexander—chuckled.
From the moment he had ordered Baron Charlton's punishment, the Kronos Emperor's consciousness had been entirely under his control.
Roman Dmitry. You are certainly no ordinary human.
His past life.
The being who must have been a martial artist of Murim was clearly at a level that Alexander, in his own past life, could never have hoped to reach. Otherwise, Roman's current feats would be impossible. Beyond mere physical strength, the ruthless way he handled matters displayed the distinct arrogance of someone who had once stood at the absolute peak.
Just what kind of being had he been?
Alexander's curiosity was piqued.
If he, who had been insignificant in his own past life, were to place Roman beneath his heel and reveal the truth, what kind of face would Roman Dmitry make? Kronos's continental conquest was a predetermined future. Roman Dmitry's existence did not seem like an obstacle to that goal, but rather a source of entertainment to keep him amused. At the crossroads of choice, Alexander had chosen magic. Roman Dmitry was the perfect subject to prove that his choice had been the correct one.
Once, there was a time when he, too, held martial arts sacred.
Though he was revered as the founder of Aura and had striven to refine it, his mindset had irrevocably changed the moment he met the being in the darkness. The humans of this world did not know. They did not realize that the power one achieved through personal effort alone was never enough to contend with the unknown existences that lived eternal lives. From that moment on, he had dreamed of immortality. Though he still yearned for martial arts, he no longer believed it was the answer to conquering the world.
Roman Dmitry would be no match for him.
He was certain that Roman, given his young age, could not even begin to compare to the being Alexander now served.
Therefore, he wanted to use Roman Dmitry to prove, once and for all, that his choice to pursue magic had been the right one.
Roll, roll.
Thud.
The severed head came to a stop right at Marquis Memphis's feet.
Looking down at the Marquis, who remained completely motionless, Alexander spoke.
"Marquis Memphis. Slaughter every last one of Baron Charlton's blood relatives. His death will serve as a clear example of what weakness brings in the Kronos Empire."
"I obey your command."
The situation was mostly settled.
From now on, it was time to prepare a special gift to send to Roman Dmitry—who was surely drunk on his victory—along with the five hundred thousand gold.
I will show you. Why I chose magic.
Whoosh.
His expression shifted.
Returning to his cold, indifferent state, the Kronos Emperor glanced briefly at Baron Charlton's remains before averting his eyes.
And at that exact moment, Alexander's consciousness transcended space and vanished to somewhere else entirely.
* * *
The capital of Odelia.
Atop the towering castle walls, a lone figure stood.
Whoosh.
Flutter.
His dark robe billowed in the fierce wind. The dark eyes briefly glimpsed beneath the shadow of his hood belonged to Alexander's true body.
"How much time would you need to blow this capital away?" he mused softly.
He had heard of the events in Rascal.
Roman Dmitry had set fires to block the enemy's retreat and slaughtered ten thousand troops by facing them directly in close combat. Right now, the capital of Odelia was teeming with captured prisoners. If Roman Dmitry decided to eliminate them all, his crude method from Rascal would have required a significant amount of time.
The world had been horrified by that day's events.
Within the human realm, it was indeed an astonishing feat of martial prowess.
However, Alexander had reached the realm of the gods.
He reached out his hand toward the sky.
"Meteor."
His voice trembled with dark ecstasy.
As his magic power surged into the heavens, massive meteors revealed themselves beyond the clouds, plunging the world into pitch-black shadow. The people on the ground stared up, utterly dazed. Some screamed and fled in terror, while others shrieked desperately, trying to conjure defenses to block the falling stars.
But when the meteors struck the earth, their pathetic struggles meant absolutely nothing.
Boom!
Crash! Rumble!
A colossal explosion erupted.
The screams of the people were instantly swallowed by the apocalyptic blast, no longer reaching Alexander's ears.
With just a single spell, the capital of Odelia was completely obliterated.