Reclaiming the Throne (1)
"But if I'm the Dragon Maiden, shouldn't my brother become the hero? Why did you give him a sword that's not the hero's sword?"
"Hm? The hero's sword?"
"Yes! If there's a Dragon Maiden, there has to be a hero, right? I thought when you made me the Dragon Maiden, you'd make my brother the hero too!"
I chuckled softly at Vivi's whiny tone and replied.
"You should call her Gaia, not Master."
"Oops. I've called her Master for years, so it's hard to shake the habit."
"That's what getting used to something means."
And changing something you've grown accustomed to is never easy.
"More importantly, as for why I didn't make your brother a hero... aside from saying it's not a situation that calls for one, there's nothing else I can say."
"A situation that calls for a hero..."
I stroked Vivi's head as she pondered deeply and continued.
"A hero acts for humanity's sake. They must embody pure goodwill, untainted by any purpose beyond protecting mankind."
"Hm... So reclaiming the throne means that doesn't align with such pure goodwill?"
"Not quite. Arthur reclaiming his stolen throne is a matter between humans. There's no room for a hero's sword to intervene in human affairs."
If some non-human malice had interfered to cause this, it would be different. But the current emperor—Arthur's uncle—shows no such signs. He's simply a human who lusted for power.
That's why the hero's sword has no place here.
"I see... Got it. Can I ask another question then?"
"Another question?"
"Yes. I could tell at a glance that the sword you gave my brother isn't ordinary. No human could forge something like that!"
Not even dwarves could make it easily. Their smelting techniques are still at the iron age level. It'll take ages before they can handle mithril or adamantium.
"So... between the sword you gave my brother and the hero's sword—which is stronger?"
"Hm?"
Which is stronger? Well... Hmm... I've never clashed their blades directly, but... the hero's sword, Claue Solas, might have a slight edge? No, wait—Dainsleif can also generate a blade of mana...
This changes things. Before transformation, Claue Solas is a greatsword, while Dainsleif relies purely on its mana blade without any transformation gimmicks. Different categories make direct comparison tricky.
Against monsters, Claue Solas. Against people, Dainsleif. Their intended purposes differ from the start.
"The hero's sword is meant to fight humanity's enemies, so it's hard to compare directly."
"Is that so? I was hoping my brother's sword was stronger."
"It'll be better for fighting people."
A mana blade can slice through most shields or armor like paper.
"What are you two talking about so intently?"
As I chatted with Vivi, Arthur, who had been leading the way through the forest path, sidled over.
"Just... nothing important!"
"Yeah, nothing important at all."
It's really just trivial chatter!
More importantly...
"Vivi, are you really set against joining the Church of Life?"
"Yes. I can join the Church of Life after my brother's business is done. Helping him comes first right now."
Hm... Her resolve is rock-solid.
The kids at the Church of Life keep asking when the Dragon Maiden will arrive. Even though she's shown her face a few times in the forest, they're still pestering.
"They're good people, but my brother matters more right now! I'm sure they'll understand!"
Hm. Sadly, it looks like the Dragon Maiden's entry into the Church of Life will take a bit longer.
We kept walking and talking until a dazzling light appeared ahead.
The deep forest, where not even a sliver of sunlight penetrates, came to an end, revealing the outside world.
This is where the two siblings' story truly begins.
The story that followed was a journey across the nation, gathering forces to become Arthur's allies.
First, the elves and dwarves. We headed to the arena city of Bethelgeuse, where the two races compete every ten years in the Interracial Tournament.
The reason we came here first? The tournament, held once every decade, was about to begin.
I had sent Arthur and Vivi out of the forest precisely because the tournament season was approaching. It was the perfect chance to make contact with other races.
One might call it relying on foreign powers, but among Arthur's limited options, it was the clearest path.
Better to borrow strength from external races beyond the emperor's influence than from lords loyal to him.
Of course, they wouldn't lend aid just because he's the former emperor's son. That's why...
"Victory for human swordsman Arthur! That's ten wins in a row! Terrifying skill!"
Arthur, having felled a dwarven warrior, raised his sword high as cheers erupted from the stands.
"Brother's the best!!!!"
The loudest cheer came from Vivi, naturally.
Before the official Elf-Dwarf Interracial Tournament began, Arthur shone brilliantly in the daily arena matches.
"Going smoothly, isn't it?"
"I had no idea Brother was this skilled! He kept getting pummeled by that wooden dummy and passing out—I never realized!"
If you think about who taught that dummy its combat techniques, it's obvious. Still, his persistent efforts paid off; a few months before leaving the forest, he could hold his own without blacking out, even if he didn't win.
No ordinary warrior could handle him now.
Arthur's win streak continued relentlessly, drawing their attention—until the elf and dwarf leaders made contact.
What came after was straightforward.
Catching their eye was the hard part, but once interest was piqued, things went our way.
Though human Arthur couldn't enter the Interracial Tournament itself—limited to elves and dwarves—he had other ways to contribute.
At the request of elf and dwarf leaders, he served as a sparring partner for tournament participants.
This built minor ties with their upper echelons. After the tournament ended in a razor-thin victory for the elves, Arthur revealed his identity to them.
The son of the previous emperor. The tale of Arthur, whose throne was usurped.
A request for their support. Promises of deeper trade and benefits with both races once he reclaimed the throne.
With the Dragon Maiden Vivi thrown in, it must have seemed irresistible to the elves and dwarves.
They didn't care who sat on the throne, but support in exchange for favors? Who'd refuse?
Of course, as external forces, direct aid would spark backlash as foreign meddling. But gaining their endorsement alone was valuable enough.
In the process, a dwarf warrior and elf swordsman, smitten by Arthur's prowess, joined as companions... but nothing major.
With support from the two races and new allies, we roamed Romania's lands, weaving tales aplenty.
Stories worth ten volumes in a book: travels and adventures.
Tales of saving suffering commoners.
Punishing those whose greed tormented others.
The Dragon Maiden working miracles for famine-stricken folk.
A single miracle cleansing a plague-ridden village.
Vanquishing ferocious monsters, gaining companions.
Building forces without regard for race.
Clearing monster-blocked roads, securing trade routes, allying with lizardmen and mages—who in turn rallied their kin and fellow mages.
These tales snowballed, spreading across Romania.
The spark that gave vague rumors purpose and form? The one I spread when the time was ripe.
"The son of the previous emperor, exiled by the current one, has returned to save Romania. He has come to reclaim his rightful crown, his throne. The suffering of Romania's people stems from an unworthy man becoming emperor. People of Romania—welcome the true emperor. Right the twisted fate."
A hero aiding the masses. Savior alongside the Dragon Maiden. Punisher of the wicked. Rightful heir who should be emperor.
Arthur's legend drew eyes everywhere, exploding into wildfire rumors.
The emperor reportedly fumed, but what could he do? He couldn't silence every tongue.
A timely famine gripped Romania, fueling unrest and rapid spread.
Of course, rumors remain rumors—intangible whispers.
Few openly backed Arthur because of them. But the atmosphere shifted.
Planting seeds of doubt among the people was enough.
Perhaps... just perhaps... this famine stems from the usurper emperor?
That suspicion alone sufficed.
The emperor sent soldiers after Arthur, the rumor, but alas—we had someone beyond mere troops or authority.
Soldiers faithful to the Goddess of Life couldn't easily touch the Dragon Maiden.
They must have let Arthur slip away, blind to his presence.
Even emperor loyalists wouldn't risk offending the Goddess-chosen Dragon Maiden.
Thus, Arthur and his growing band persuaded lords with words, force, or the Dragon Maiden's authority—expanding their influence.
The goal: support from over half of Romania's lords. Enough to secure the throne unchallenged.
Once secured, we set our sights anew.
Romania’s capital. Sirius. The emperor's castle.
