Any Means Necessary (Selfish OC SI, Multiverse) [In Tower of God]
- Thread starter Eiri Fllyn
- Start date
- Crossover
[x] Mental Influence
[x] Warding
[x] Warding
- Location
- The Temple of the Winds
[x] Mental Influence
This is one of our current weaknesses or rather a point where we lack any strengthening.
[X] Warding
Another point where we lack any previous power. And one that would synergize amazingly with normal tech.
[] Corpse Reanimation
I would think that the mana consumption of this would make it prohibitively useless so we might skip it directly and simply plan not to die.
This is one of our current weaknesses or rather a point where we lack any strengthening.
[X] Warding
Another point where we lack any previous power. And one that would synergize amazingly with normal tech.
[] Corpse Reanimation
I would think that the mana consumption of this would make it prohibitively useless so we might skip it directly and simply plan not to die.
One thing to try is to put it in contact with exotic versions of water. From purely physical ones like Heavy Water, to circumstantially unique water like water from a volcanic geyser or from 20'000 feet under the seas, to more magical ones (that we haven't found yet) like primordial, conjured or mana infused water.
The issue is that mind control is a "save or suck/die" thing. So we need to be prepared before we meet such a danger.
Ridli Scott
(Verified acid sweater mutant)
- Location
- The Periphery
[X] Mental Influence
[X] Warding
[X] Warding
[X] Healing Physical Injuries
[X] Healing Diseases
Let's become the White Mage! Nobody fucks with the White Mage.
Now seriously... If we could heal others with magical means, then maybe Mathilda would still be alive. She could have been a useful asset.
On the other hand, we could try to heal Tabitha's mom; after that, a little push to a certain incognito Princess and... Voilà! "Civil War: Gallian Edition". That would keep them busy, fighting against themselves instead of meddling in our affairs or crusading against the "New Dark Empire of Albion."
[X] Healing Diseases
Let's become the White Mage! Nobody fucks with the White Mage.
Now seriously... If we could heal others with magical means, then maybe Mathilda would still be alive. She could have been a useful asset.
On the other hand, we could try to heal Tabitha's mom; after that, a little push to a certain incognito Princess and... Voilà! "Civil War: Gallian Edition". That would keep them busy, fighting against themselves instead of meddling in our affairs or crusading against the "New Dark Empire of Albion."
SS 1.2 – A New Albion
SS 1.2 – A New Albion
The main fleet sailed to Londinium, but there was no great applause or cheer. People stepped out of their homes and watched the skies in trepidation, not knowing what the fleet intended amidst the horrific rumors of a demon in Newcastle and the simultaneous death of the leader of the rebels and the king.
The temporary new flagship Rimmington, a smaller model of the Lexington-class, descended towards the royal palace's private landing area.
As the former royal court until it was moved to Newcastle when Londinium was lost, this large bustling city had been chosen by Reconquista as its own capital and Cromwell's personal fief as well.
The chancellor, steward and numerous other lords quickly came out of the palace and prepared a greeting.
They had heard rumors of both Lord Cromwell and the former king's demise, saw the terrifying visage of the dark power that enshrouded the skies in the distance, and even had runners inform them ahead of time that the Reconquista army had surrendered to the new emperor "Muurleth".
But even so, many found it difficult to believe the fantastical events described by the messengers, and dared not act as if Cromwell was actually dead until confirmed in person by a top leader in Reconquista.
Chief Commander General Fairfax in his iconic plate armor descended from the Rimmington with a grim expression, surrounded by similarly grim looking lieutenants.
He was followed by the newly promoted fleet admiral, which raised many eyebrows at the conspicuous absence of the well known, aggressive and irritable Johnston. After the admiral came a couple of vice-admirals.
It soon became clear that Cromwell would not be arriving.
"General Fairfax, where is the Lord Protector?" The chancellor stepped forward from the crowd of nobles and asked.
Fairfax came to a stop in front of the chancellor. "Chancellor, did you not receive our messengers? The Lord Protector is dead."
A series of gasps arose.
"Ah, we did, but the events they described…"
"Were unbelievable? Unfortunately—I mean miraculously, they are completely true! The great Muurleth, He Who Sees Beyond, has exposed the lies of the former Lord Protector, whose claim to Void was nothing more than trickery, deceit, and heresy! Brimir has abandoned us, for Reconquista have committed sins beyond redemption! But Emperor Muurleth has graced us with his patronage, and offers a new path forward!" General Fairfax declared with a booming voice.
The proclamation was met with looks of stunned disbelief.
"This…this is impossible. This is heresy of the highest order. What madness has taken you, General? Where is Admiral Johnston? Why aren't the rest of you saying anything? Has our army's leadership all fallen to madness?" A noble in fancy robes walked forward with big strides and gestured to the lieutenant generals, admiral and vice admirals behind Fairfax.
"Lord Eastway, Admiral Johnston was aboard the Lexington when His Majesty obliterated it. As for this madness you speak of, please consider your words more carefully. General Fairfax speaks only the truth, and has the full support of the army and fleet," said the new fleet admiral.
"You're gone insane! How could the reports possibly be true? The dead rising? One man defeating an entire army? It must be fabricated! Emperor Muurleth? Ridiculous! You must be attempting a coup!" The noble gestured wildly. "Where is this all-powerful Muurleth then?! Why doesn't he show us his face?"
'This fool is courting death and he doesn't even know it!' Fairfax thought with alarm.
"You dare to mock His Majesty Muurleth, the Prince of Duality, Lord of the Infinite! He is ever present, ever watching, and his power beyond your imagination! Stop now with your foolishness before you bring his Curse of Doom upon us!" General Fairfax drew his swordwand and held it threateningly forward.
Other nobles took out their wands and started backing away with frightened faces. They were not weak but the top leaders of the army were all Square and Triangle class mages. There was a reason that they stayed at court and were not officers in the army.
The military leaders similarly took up stances, but instead of backing away, they moved toward Lord Eastway.
"No, you lie! What curse? It's a coup! A coup, or madness! Demon worshippers, the lot of you! Heretics! God will smite you!" The noble yelled at the top of his voice before levitating away quickly.
"Kill him now!" Even before Fairfax made the order, his lieutenants had whipped into action.
Wind spells quickly brought Eastway back onto the ground, where his head was cut off cleanly.
A number of other nobles started screaming and running away.
"Stop! Do not allow anyone to escape to spread heretical ideas! We must not allow the Curse of Doom to take root in Londinium!" General Fairfax screamed with bloodshot eyes.
'I'll kill them all myself if I have to!'
The Curse of Doom is what they had named the terrifying phenomenon in Newcastle where residents suddenly became weak with pain, grew unnatural warts, bled from their nose and eyes, lost hair, suffered diarrhea, and all manner of other problems.
Many had died within hours without the help of healing magic, and even worse, the Curse infected their water mages, as if condemning them for trying to fight the punishment Muurleth had inflicted upon them.
It was worse than any plague in the history of Halkegenia. Their water mages couldn't even identify or cure whatever was wrong with the cursed victims, all they could do was fight the symptoms, which soon came back without continuous healing.
All who fell under the curse were doomed to live in agony if they did not die immediately.
At least the effect seemed to be limited to the area close to where the Muurleth's spell annihilated the Lexington. Unfortunately, they had also discovered that those who carried the curse would keep spreading it regardless of whether they had any symptoms, albeit it weakened every time it spread outside the main area of effect.
As a result, their water mages had to be quarantined as well and the uninfected water mages refused to help the commoners, as well as switching to potions instead of direct healing for nobles. That was an expensive solution but it became at least manageable for nobles.
Even so, the infected nobles could not return to see their family lest they infect their loved ones with the curse. They did not know how long the curse would last, and it could be their entire lives for all they knew. After the long campaigns of the war, it was a devastating realization.
All of Newcastle was practically deserted now as the residents fled, and due to the initial confusion and chaos from the loss of a large part of the fleet leadership, they were unable to keep the residents or deserters from fleeing.
At this point, they could only pray that the effect weakened enough not to bring utter disaster through the whole kingdom.
The fleet was well prepared ahead of the landing for possible combat at the palace however, so the other ships quickly moved down along with the Dragon Knights and other air corps.
It wasn't long before the panicking nobles at court were all rounded up and Fairfax gave them an angry lecture on how close they were to disaster.
The few nobles who continued to openly doubt the veracity of the military's claims were quickly burned at the stake, alongside the body of Lord Eastway, in an attempt to eliminate dangerous ideas that could lead to the Curse spreading, and cleanse their bodies of any Curse that may be already active.
Like this, the army seized control of the capital and much of the remaining forces of the former Reconquista each time they visited the governing lord's castle. A small minority of nobles had heard the news and organized themselves before Fairfax's forces got to them, so the kingdom continued to be in a state of civil war.
O O O
The Pope of Romalia, Vittorio Severare, sat in his private study, reading the latest communications from his agents abroad.
If anybody who did not know him saw him, they would find it difficult to identify him as a Pope. He was young, extraordinarily so, seemingly only in his early twenties. A purple robe decorated with red and gold linings adorned his body, while his room was bare and tidy.
A round mirror sat atop his desk, reflecting his handsome—some would even say beautiful—visage. Another young man stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.
Vittorio's eyes ran through the parchment, eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation.
"…it was a sight that beggared description, a light that evoked reverence by its mere appearance. It illuminated the whole country, a searing light whose brightness was almost blinding yet gripped my eyes for I could not look away. It set alight every peak and crevice of the nearby mountain range with such a beauty that no words could do it justice, a sheer radiance that must be seen to imagine. It was a newborn star that outshone—nay, eclipsed the sun, its splendour like the most holiest of sights that one could only imagine in the halls of Valhalla. It was golden, purple, gray, and blue, it was yellow and red and oh so fleeting as it faded away to reveal an enormous ball of fire. It moved almost ponderously, rising up and forming into the shape of a brain. Smoke overtook the fire and it grew ever higher until it towered high into the sky like a tremendous mushroom, which was similar to a painting that I had seen before, of the centurial eruptions at the Fire Dragon Mountains.
It was only then that I understood, and later verified after seeking other witnesses, that what I had seen was a simply an explosion of unprecedented scale, a spell so far beyond the Square-class it should have only existed in myth and legend, belonging only to a mighty being like a Great Spirit or a god, and not a mere mortal mage. Yet drunk and fearful soldiers revealed to me that it was indeed the work of a single mage, or perhaps some manner of demon, as none had seen its face but two red lights for eyes behind its demonic helm, and it had wrought not only that terrible spell, but defeated the entire army of Reconquista at Newcastle in mere seconds, and it called itself Muurleth, a most foreign and unpleasant name one could well imagine as that of a demon's…"
"Ah, if only I could have seen it myself. Could it have been the Founder's Explosion spell?" The young Pope spoke aloud.
He continued to read until he found another intriguing bit.
"…When I arrived in Gallia, I was shocked to learn that Muurleth's spell had been seen even from so far away, and indeed even from the shores of Germania too, by the words of traveling merchants…"
"Truly? The distance from Newcastle to the nearest Gallian port city should be almost two hundred and fifty miglio," he said before getting up and opening a map from his shelves. He brought it down to his desk and tapped a line from Newcastle to Gallia.
"Your Holiness, do you think Muurleth is Albion's Void?" The other young man asked as he watched the Pope. He was even younger than the pope, and with similarly striking features, but he wore a white leather coat and a cape instead of priestly robes.
"With Lifthrasir, it would certainly be possible to amplify Explosion to that level. But where did he come from? It is too sudden, too strange. There have been no hints of Albion's Void mage up until now. More importantly, when did he have the chance to learn Void spells? The Wind Ruby and Music Box had been separated for many years, and the rest are all accounted for," said Vittorio, looking at the red Fire Ruby ring on his own finger. "Well, at least it should make Joseph easier to deal with."
"Did you foresee something like this, Your Holiness? Is that why you did not send me?"
For a moment, the Pope did not answer. His expression was unreadable as his eyes found their way to the runes etched onto the other young man's hand.
"No, Julio. In truth, it should have been preferable if Cromwell had succeeded. Even if he was that man's pawn, he did rouse Albion with the promise of retaking the Holy Land," he finally said.
"Then, what shall we do now? Will you agree to the College's suggestion of a punitive crusade against Albion?"
"Why must fellow children of the Founder be so eager to shed each other's blood?" The Pope said with a sigh. "It is not Albion or its innocent people who have sinned against God, but Muurleth who has enslaved them. I will not declare a crusade yet, as it will be necessary to gather support, and to acquire passage through Gallia. In the meantime, without Joseph's support, Muurleth should find it difficult to manage the Albion treasury. Even in Romalia, a rich and wealthy country, there are children that go without bread each day. For Albion that has been racked by civil war for two years, it is quite possible that Muurleth's rule will collapse on its own, in which case there is no need to act. For now, excommunication will suffice, and I also wish to observe what Joseph does next."
Vittorio then stood up and placed a hand on Julio's shoulder. "However, I do have a new mission for you, Julio. If Muurleth is indeed one of the chosen four, then you shall determine whether he can be persuaded to ally with his brothers for the Founder's holy quest. You should have ample time to complete this mission and to investigate the status of Tristain's Void mage as well, before we launch the crusade. In the end, the throne of Albion is only a minor concern. It must not distract us from carrying out the Founder's will."
"Understood."
O O O
Near the southern shores of Albion…
An unflagged warship armed with cannons intercepted a merchant ship. It seemed that they were pirates.
The captain of the merchant ship could only stop and surrender, lacking the firepower to fight back.
After boarding, the pirates questioned the captain. They had done this many times with other ships, and had heard the latest news from Albion in this way.
"Boss, there seems to be an order for your return," one of the pirates told their apparent leader, a black haired man with exquisite but dirtied clothing, and a patch over his left eye.
"Oh? An invitation? Or an arrest order?" He asked.
"Neither. Just an order, and a threat. If you don't return, your title will be stripped."
"That makes it sound like I still have a title. What a pointless ruse," he said with a laugh.
"Maybe not. Your sister was legitimized and pronounced a royal princess."
The pirate boss's face turned into a frown. "My half-elf sister…? That one?" He had not even realized he'd had a sister until a few days ago, when news of the duel between King Henry and Cromwell reached his ears.
"It seems that she was assigned the former royal guard too. She is currently at Londinium Palace. Maybe we could use the secret passage and send an agent to meet her, find out what's going on."
"Wait a minute. How did this ship's passengers know about this? Are they not commoners?"
"There's a noblewoman from Gallia. She says she is returning in secret to report to the Gallian royal family. She also seems to be under the impression that we're Reconquista loyalists that are hiding from Muurleth and I played along with it. She demanded that we bring her to Gallia. It sounds like our suspicions were right. The Gallian royal family was behind everything. But Muurleth spoiled their plans at the last minute."
"Take me to see her first," the pirate boss said.
They went to a spacious cabin where a beautiful woman sat haughtily with a small smirk, apparently uncaring of the numerous other pirates in the room with her. Her features were exotic with olive colored skin, her dark eyes were sharp and dangerous, accentuated by the dark purple dress she wore. She did not seem quite like a Gallian to the pirate boss, but he supposed that she could just be a mixed blood. Probably had Rub 'al Khali ancestry, as Gallia did stretch east a very long way.
"Hello Miss. Might I have your name?" He asked standing in front of her.
A malevolent chuckle was the response, giving him an uneasy vibe. He stepped back involuntarily, but before he could think more on the matter, a sharp pain burst from his chest.
He looked down in shock to see a sword sticking out before it was ripped out. Outraged yells from his men were drowned out by screams of pain.
All around him, several of what he thought were his own men had morphed into monstrous grey golems with glowing red magic circles on their chests that attacked the men who didn't morph. They were incredibly strong and spells hit them to seemingly no effect, resulting in a one-sided massacre.
The woman stood up and walked closer to him even as he dropped to his knees.
"My dear Prince Wales, I'm afraid your time has come to an end," she said in a silky voice.
He clutched his swordwand and pointed it at her shakily.
"W-who are y-you?"
"Who am I? Why, I am the holy familiar of Void, the Mind of God. And God has decreed that you shall give up your life for the good of all," she said.
With a quickly muttered incantation, he unleashed the strongest spell he could. A shearing drill of wind blasted forth.
But the woman disappeared and the spell merely destroyed the cabin wall behind it. A cold hand caressed his face from behind, which sent an icy chill throughout his body.
His hand dropped his wand involuntarily.
He was pulled back and the woman held him close like in a lovers' embrace. Her other hand went down and found his own left hand, then pried a ring off his finger. The white crystal glinted in the light.
"I'll be taking this, my prince. You won't need it anymore."
The last of his strength gone with that spell, he was unable to do anything but watch.
The woman then stood up again and held the white crystal ring in her right hand, walking out to the open air. Raising it to the sun, she smiled.
"The Wind Ruby…I wonder what secrets of Void you shall reveal…" She murmured softly.
O O O
In the deep night, a tall solitary figure stood on the balcony of a huge palace.
A middle aged man, blue haired with a strong frame and handsome features, he watched the stars while drinking a glass of wine, wearing a blue and white set of sleepwear.
The smell of incense was in the air, and a yellow ruby ring was on his middle finger. It shone with an unnatural glow in the starlight.
He breathed in the refreshing night air and the burning incense.
"A god, is he? With only so much power…how quaint," he spoke as if to nobody, a light smile on his lips.
Yet, he apparently heard a response, because he held a conversation by himself.
"The loss of the Music Box is unfortunate, but you have done well."
"It matters not. Let him rule over the pitiful remains of that country for a little while. I shall even give him a toast if he can cling on to the throne without Gallian assistance."
"Is that so? Interesting."
"No, return first, so that I can use that second key. Then I will decide."
Had his servants heard him, they would assume he was again in a bout of lunacy or play-acting. It was after all nothing new for the incompetent, lazy, and mad king Joseph of Gallia.
O O O
A/N: And there's the reaction chapter. The Curse of Doom is radiation poisoning. Actually, radiation poisoning isn't biologically contagious like viruses. But these people don't know what's causing it, and don't realize that materials such as clothing and other objects can be irradiated, thereby spreading the "infection", even if they practice reasonable hygiene, for their level of technology.
The golems Myoz used this time are not the same as the dolls from before. These are the smaller versions of the Jormungandr that were used to devastating effect in canon.
Why was Joseph unimpressed by the power of MC's nuke? It's because, unlike the religious Papal agent who carefully described the intensity of the blast with romantic language and not just the size of it, Joseph didn't pay close enough attention to that. The Fire Jewels in canon are supposed to create much larger fireballs--nukes actually have fairly small fireballs as much of the energy is released as light and pressure waves.
There will be a few more side-stories to explore some other things going on that the MC is doing during this period of time from other POVs.
The main fleet sailed to Londinium, but there was no great applause or cheer. People stepped out of their homes and watched the skies in trepidation, not knowing what the fleet intended amidst the horrific rumors of a demon in Newcastle and the simultaneous death of the leader of the rebels and the king.
The temporary new flagship Rimmington, a smaller model of the Lexington-class, descended towards the royal palace's private landing area.
As the former royal court until it was moved to Newcastle when Londinium was lost, this large bustling city had been chosen by Reconquista as its own capital and Cromwell's personal fief as well.
The chancellor, steward and numerous other lords quickly came out of the palace and prepared a greeting.
They had heard rumors of both Lord Cromwell and the former king's demise, saw the terrifying visage of the dark power that enshrouded the skies in the distance, and even had runners inform them ahead of time that the Reconquista army had surrendered to the new emperor "Muurleth".
But even so, many found it difficult to believe the fantastical events described by the messengers, and dared not act as if Cromwell was actually dead until confirmed in person by a top leader in Reconquista.
Chief Commander General Fairfax in his iconic plate armor descended from the Rimmington with a grim expression, surrounded by similarly grim looking lieutenants.
He was followed by the newly promoted fleet admiral, which raised many eyebrows at the conspicuous absence of the well known, aggressive and irritable Johnston. After the admiral came a couple of vice-admirals.
It soon became clear that Cromwell would not be arriving.
"General Fairfax, where is the Lord Protector?" The chancellor stepped forward from the crowd of nobles and asked.
Fairfax came to a stop in front of the chancellor. "Chancellor, did you not receive our messengers? The Lord Protector is dead."
A series of gasps arose.
"Ah, we did, but the events they described…"
"Were unbelievable? Unfortunately—I mean miraculously, they are completely true! The great Muurleth, He Who Sees Beyond, has exposed the lies of the former Lord Protector, whose claim to Void was nothing more than trickery, deceit, and heresy! Brimir has abandoned us, for Reconquista have committed sins beyond redemption! But Emperor Muurleth has graced us with his patronage, and offers a new path forward!" General Fairfax declared with a booming voice.
The proclamation was met with looks of stunned disbelief.
"This…this is impossible. This is heresy of the highest order. What madness has taken you, General? Where is Admiral Johnston? Why aren't the rest of you saying anything? Has our army's leadership all fallen to madness?" A noble in fancy robes walked forward with big strides and gestured to the lieutenant generals, admiral and vice admirals behind Fairfax.
"Lord Eastway, Admiral Johnston was aboard the Lexington when His Majesty obliterated it. As for this madness you speak of, please consider your words more carefully. General Fairfax speaks only the truth, and has the full support of the army and fleet," said the new fleet admiral.
"You're gone insane! How could the reports possibly be true? The dead rising? One man defeating an entire army? It must be fabricated! Emperor Muurleth? Ridiculous! You must be attempting a coup!" The noble gestured wildly. "Where is this all-powerful Muurleth then?! Why doesn't he show us his face?"
'This fool is courting death and he doesn't even know it!' Fairfax thought with alarm.
"You dare to mock His Majesty Muurleth, the Prince of Duality, Lord of the Infinite! He is ever present, ever watching, and his power beyond your imagination! Stop now with your foolishness before you bring his Curse of Doom upon us!" General Fairfax drew his swordwand and held it threateningly forward.
Other nobles took out their wands and started backing away with frightened faces. They were not weak but the top leaders of the army were all Square and Triangle class mages. There was a reason that they stayed at court and were not officers in the army.
The military leaders similarly took up stances, but instead of backing away, they moved toward Lord Eastway.
"No, you lie! What curse? It's a coup! A coup, or madness! Demon worshippers, the lot of you! Heretics! God will smite you!" The noble yelled at the top of his voice before levitating away quickly.
"Kill him now!" Even before Fairfax made the order, his lieutenants had whipped into action.
Wind spells quickly brought Eastway back onto the ground, where his head was cut off cleanly.
A number of other nobles started screaming and running away.
"Stop! Do not allow anyone to escape to spread heretical ideas! We must not allow the Curse of Doom to take root in Londinium!" General Fairfax screamed with bloodshot eyes.
'I'll kill them all myself if I have to!'
The Curse of Doom is what they had named the terrifying phenomenon in Newcastle where residents suddenly became weak with pain, grew unnatural warts, bled from their nose and eyes, lost hair, suffered diarrhea, and all manner of other problems.
Many had died within hours without the help of healing magic, and even worse, the Curse infected their water mages, as if condemning them for trying to fight the punishment Muurleth had inflicted upon them.
It was worse than any plague in the history of Halkegenia. Their water mages couldn't even identify or cure whatever was wrong with the cursed victims, all they could do was fight the symptoms, which soon came back without continuous healing.
All who fell under the curse were doomed to live in agony if they did not die immediately.
At least the effect seemed to be limited to the area close to where the Muurleth's spell annihilated the Lexington. Unfortunately, they had also discovered that those who carried the curse would keep spreading it regardless of whether they had any symptoms, albeit it weakened every time it spread outside the main area of effect.
As a result, their water mages had to be quarantined as well and the uninfected water mages refused to help the commoners, as well as switching to potions instead of direct healing for nobles. That was an expensive solution but it became at least manageable for nobles.
Even so, the infected nobles could not return to see their family lest they infect their loved ones with the curse. They did not know how long the curse would last, and it could be their entire lives for all they knew. After the long campaigns of the war, it was a devastating realization.
All of Newcastle was practically deserted now as the residents fled, and due to the initial confusion and chaos from the loss of a large part of the fleet leadership, they were unable to keep the residents or deserters from fleeing.
At this point, they could only pray that the effect weakened enough not to bring utter disaster through the whole kingdom.
The fleet was well prepared ahead of the landing for possible combat at the palace however, so the other ships quickly moved down along with the Dragon Knights and other air corps.
It wasn't long before the panicking nobles at court were all rounded up and Fairfax gave them an angry lecture on how close they were to disaster.
The few nobles who continued to openly doubt the veracity of the military's claims were quickly burned at the stake, alongside the body of Lord Eastway, in an attempt to eliminate dangerous ideas that could lead to the Curse spreading, and cleanse their bodies of any Curse that may be already active.
Like this, the army seized control of the capital and much of the remaining forces of the former Reconquista each time they visited the governing lord's castle. A small minority of nobles had heard the news and organized themselves before Fairfax's forces got to them, so the kingdom continued to be in a state of civil war.
O O O
The Pope of Romalia, Vittorio Severare, sat in his private study, reading the latest communications from his agents abroad.
If anybody who did not know him saw him, they would find it difficult to identify him as a Pope. He was young, extraordinarily so, seemingly only in his early twenties. A purple robe decorated with red and gold linings adorned his body, while his room was bare and tidy.
A round mirror sat atop his desk, reflecting his handsome—some would even say beautiful—visage. Another young man stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.
Vittorio's eyes ran through the parchment, eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation.
"…it was a sight that beggared description, a light that evoked reverence by its mere appearance. It illuminated the whole country, a searing light whose brightness was almost blinding yet gripped my eyes for I could not look away. It set alight every peak and crevice of the nearby mountain range with such a beauty that no words could do it justice, a sheer radiance that must be seen to imagine. It was a newborn star that outshone—nay, eclipsed the sun, its splendour like the most holiest of sights that one could only imagine in the halls of Valhalla. It was golden, purple, gray, and blue, it was yellow and red and oh so fleeting as it faded away to reveal an enormous ball of fire. It moved almost ponderously, rising up and forming into the shape of a brain. Smoke overtook the fire and it grew ever higher until it towered high into the sky like a tremendous mushroom, which was similar to a painting that I had seen before, of the centurial eruptions at the Fire Dragon Mountains.
It was only then that I understood, and later verified after seeking other witnesses, that what I had seen was a simply an explosion of unprecedented scale, a spell so far beyond the Square-class it should have only existed in myth and legend, belonging only to a mighty being like a Great Spirit or a god, and not a mere mortal mage. Yet drunk and fearful soldiers revealed to me that it was indeed the work of a single mage, or perhaps some manner of demon, as none had seen its face but two red lights for eyes behind its demonic helm, and it had wrought not only that terrible spell, but defeated the entire army of Reconquista at Newcastle in mere seconds, and it called itself Muurleth, a most foreign and unpleasant name one could well imagine as that of a demon's…"
"Ah, if only I could have seen it myself. Could it have been the Founder's Explosion spell?" The young Pope spoke aloud.
He continued to read until he found another intriguing bit.
"…When I arrived in Gallia, I was shocked to learn that Muurleth's spell had been seen even from so far away, and indeed even from the shores of Germania too, by the words of traveling merchants…"
"Truly? The distance from Newcastle to the nearest Gallian port city should be almost two hundred and fifty miglio," he said before getting up and opening a map from his shelves. He brought it down to his desk and tapped a line from Newcastle to Gallia.
"Your Holiness, do you think Muurleth is Albion's Void?" The other young man asked as he watched the Pope. He was even younger than the pope, and with similarly striking features, but he wore a white leather coat and a cape instead of priestly robes.
"With Lifthrasir, it would certainly be possible to amplify Explosion to that level. But where did he come from? It is too sudden, too strange. There have been no hints of Albion's Void mage up until now. More importantly, when did he have the chance to learn Void spells? The Wind Ruby and Music Box had been separated for many years, and the rest are all accounted for," said Vittorio, looking at the red Fire Ruby ring on his own finger. "Well, at least it should make Joseph easier to deal with."
"Did you foresee something like this, Your Holiness? Is that why you did not send me?"
For a moment, the Pope did not answer. His expression was unreadable as his eyes found their way to the runes etched onto the other young man's hand.
"No, Julio. In truth, it should have been preferable if Cromwell had succeeded. Even if he was that man's pawn, he did rouse Albion with the promise of retaking the Holy Land," he finally said.
"Then, what shall we do now? Will you agree to the College's suggestion of a punitive crusade against Albion?"
"Why must fellow children of the Founder be so eager to shed each other's blood?" The Pope said with a sigh. "It is not Albion or its innocent people who have sinned against God, but Muurleth who has enslaved them. I will not declare a crusade yet, as it will be necessary to gather support, and to acquire passage through Gallia. In the meantime, without Joseph's support, Muurleth should find it difficult to manage the Albion treasury. Even in Romalia, a rich and wealthy country, there are children that go without bread each day. For Albion that has been racked by civil war for two years, it is quite possible that Muurleth's rule will collapse on its own, in which case there is no need to act. For now, excommunication will suffice, and I also wish to observe what Joseph does next."
Vittorio then stood up and placed a hand on Julio's shoulder. "However, I do have a new mission for you, Julio. If Muurleth is indeed one of the chosen four, then you shall determine whether he can be persuaded to ally with his brothers for the Founder's holy quest. You should have ample time to complete this mission and to investigate the status of Tristain's Void mage as well, before we launch the crusade. In the end, the throne of Albion is only a minor concern. It must not distract us from carrying out the Founder's will."
"Understood."
O O O
Near the southern shores of Albion…
An unflagged warship armed with cannons intercepted a merchant ship. It seemed that they were pirates.
The captain of the merchant ship could only stop and surrender, lacking the firepower to fight back.
After boarding, the pirates questioned the captain. They had done this many times with other ships, and had heard the latest news from Albion in this way.
"Boss, there seems to be an order for your return," one of the pirates told their apparent leader, a black haired man with exquisite but dirtied clothing, and a patch over his left eye.
"Oh? An invitation? Or an arrest order?" He asked.
"Neither. Just an order, and a threat. If you don't return, your title will be stripped."
"That makes it sound like I still have a title. What a pointless ruse," he said with a laugh.
"Maybe not. Your sister was legitimized and pronounced a royal princess."
The pirate boss's face turned into a frown. "My half-elf sister…? That one?" He had not even realized he'd had a sister until a few days ago, when news of the duel between King Henry and Cromwell reached his ears.
"It seems that she was assigned the former royal guard too. She is currently at Londinium Palace. Maybe we could use the secret passage and send an agent to meet her, find out what's going on."
"Wait a minute. How did this ship's passengers know about this? Are they not commoners?"
"There's a noblewoman from Gallia. She says she is returning in secret to report to the Gallian royal family. She also seems to be under the impression that we're Reconquista loyalists that are hiding from Muurleth and I played along with it. She demanded that we bring her to Gallia. It sounds like our suspicions were right. The Gallian royal family was behind everything. But Muurleth spoiled their plans at the last minute."
"Take me to see her first," the pirate boss said.
They went to a spacious cabin where a beautiful woman sat haughtily with a small smirk, apparently uncaring of the numerous other pirates in the room with her. Her features were exotic with olive colored skin, her dark eyes were sharp and dangerous, accentuated by the dark purple dress she wore. She did not seem quite like a Gallian to the pirate boss, but he supposed that she could just be a mixed blood. Probably had Rub 'al Khali ancestry, as Gallia did stretch east a very long way.
"Hello Miss. Might I have your name?" He asked standing in front of her.
A malevolent chuckle was the response, giving him an uneasy vibe. He stepped back involuntarily, but before he could think more on the matter, a sharp pain burst from his chest.
He looked down in shock to see a sword sticking out before it was ripped out. Outraged yells from his men were drowned out by screams of pain.
All around him, several of what he thought were his own men had morphed into monstrous grey golems with glowing red magic circles on their chests that attacked the men who didn't morph. They were incredibly strong and spells hit them to seemingly no effect, resulting in a one-sided massacre.
The woman stood up and walked closer to him even as he dropped to his knees.
"My dear Prince Wales, I'm afraid your time has come to an end," she said in a silky voice.
He clutched his swordwand and pointed it at her shakily.
"W-who are y-you?"
"Who am I? Why, I am the holy familiar of Void, the Mind of God. And God has decreed that you shall give up your life for the good of all," she said.
With a quickly muttered incantation, he unleashed the strongest spell he could. A shearing drill of wind blasted forth.
But the woman disappeared and the spell merely destroyed the cabin wall behind it. A cold hand caressed his face from behind, which sent an icy chill throughout his body.
His hand dropped his wand involuntarily.
He was pulled back and the woman held him close like in a lovers' embrace. Her other hand went down and found his own left hand, then pried a ring off his finger. The white crystal glinted in the light.
"I'll be taking this, my prince. You won't need it anymore."
The last of his strength gone with that spell, he was unable to do anything but watch.
The woman then stood up again and held the white crystal ring in her right hand, walking out to the open air. Raising it to the sun, she smiled.
"The Wind Ruby…I wonder what secrets of Void you shall reveal…" She murmured softly.
O O O
In the deep night, a tall solitary figure stood on the balcony of a huge palace.
A middle aged man, blue haired with a strong frame and handsome features, he watched the stars while drinking a glass of wine, wearing a blue and white set of sleepwear.
The smell of incense was in the air, and a yellow ruby ring was on his middle finger. It shone with an unnatural glow in the starlight.
He breathed in the refreshing night air and the burning incense.
"A god, is he? With only so much power…how quaint," he spoke as if to nobody, a light smile on his lips.
Yet, he apparently heard a response, because he held a conversation by himself.
"The loss of the Music Box is unfortunate, but you have done well."
"It matters not. Let him rule over the pitiful remains of that country for a little while. I shall even give him a toast if he can cling on to the throne without Gallian assistance."
"Is that so? Interesting."
"No, return first, so that I can use that second key. Then I will decide."
Had his servants heard him, they would assume he was again in a bout of lunacy or play-acting. It was after all nothing new for the incompetent, lazy, and mad king Joseph of Gallia.
O O O
A/N: And there's the reaction chapter. The Curse of Doom is radiation poisoning. Actually, radiation poisoning isn't biologically contagious like viruses. But these people don't know what's causing it, and don't realize that materials such as clothing and other objects can be irradiated, thereby spreading the "infection", even if they practice reasonable hygiene, for their level of technology.
The golems Myoz used this time are not the same as the dolls from before. These are the smaller versions of the Jormungandr that were used to devastating effect in canon.
Why was Joseph unimpressed by the power of MC's nuke? It's because, unlike the religious Papal agent who carefully described the intensity of the blast with romantic language and not just the size of it, Joseph didn't pay close enough attention to that. The Fire Jewels in canon are supposed to create much larger fireballs--nukes actually have fairly small fireballs as much of the energy is released as light and pressure waves.
There will be a few more side-stories to explore some other things going on that the MC is doing during this period of time from other POVs.
Nice side-chapter! Interesting points of view, all of them.
MC: "Well, you know what they say... You can't make an omelette without radiation-poisoning some eggs."
MC: "Well, you know what they say... You can't make an omelette without radiation-poisoning some eggs."
SS 1.3 – Crown Restoration
SS 1.3 – Crown Restoration
The captain of the late King Henry of Albion's royal guard was doing push ups in his dark cell when he heard the sound of footsteps coming his way.
He settled down into a sitting position, breathing lightly as several figures came into view on the other side of the prison bars.
The imposing armored form of General Fairfax came to a stop, turning to face him, flanked by two officers and two prison guards.
"Open the cell," he ordered.
As the guards moved to unlock the prison, the captain stood up. "What's going on?"
"You have a new assignment, Captain Coventry," said General Fairfax.
"Is this a joke? You think we would serve in your army?"
The door to the prison was opened, but the captain did not move from his spot.
"Captain Coventry, with whom does your loyalty lie? Do the oaths you swore when you became the captain of the royal guard still hold true?" Fairfax asked slowly.
"Of course! My loyalty is to King Henry and the house of Tudor! I will never serve traitors such as the likes of you!" Coventry snarled back.
"Then prove it. You are being called to duty again, to serve the royal blood once more. Or are your words just empty bluster?"
At those words, confusion was etched onto Coventry's face. "The royal blood?"
Fairfax gestured and one of the officers stepped into the cell.
He was carrying a small wooden box, which he placed onto the table inside the cell. With a quick movement, he opened the box, then removed a neatly folded uniform and a swordwand, before returning back outside the cell.
Coventry stared at his uniform and swordwand. "This is a trick, isn't it? Are you trying to tell me you're secretly loyal to the Crown? Or have you defected again?! I don't believe it. No, I refuse to believe something so ridiculous!"
"Believe whatever you like. If you do not want to return to duty, you do not have to. My orders were only to release you and offer you the opportunity," said Fairfax. "Guards, lead him out once he is ready to go. We're done here."
Then he turned and walked away, the two officers following.
Coventry watched this with his mouth agape. His hand moved to his swordwand, and the guards did not seem to react, simply standing there with the prison door wide open.
He ran out the door with swordwand in hand, and looked down the corridor to see that Fairfax was really leaving.
It wasn't long before he shouted after them.
O O O
Back in his uniform, Captain Coventry followed Fairfax out of the dungeons and was led around the castle until they reached a particular room which was protected by two guards.
A female servant greeted them at the door before going back inside. After a while, she came back.
"Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal will see you now."
Confusion was etched onto the face of the captain as he followed Fairfax into the room. He knew based on familiarity that he had been imprisoned in the palace at Londinium, and they were still there. So how could there be a princess, let alone Princess Royal, a rank which the king had never awarded? The only Albion royal still alive should have been Prince Wales.
When he saw the figure waiting inside beside a tea table, confusion turned to shock.
There, sitting demurely in a decorated white and gold gown was the bastard half-elf daughter of King Henry, Tiffania, the very same one who suddenly appeared before the King's duel with Cromwell.
She gave him an inquisitive glance, then turned to greet Fairfax.
"General Fairfax, what I can help you with?" She asked.
"Your royal highness, His Divine Greatness feels that you need a proper guard to ensure your safety. This man is the former Captain of your father's Royal Guard and therefore possesses the necessary qualifications to lead your own guard," said Fairfax.
"Oh um…it's a pleasure to meet you, ah…um your name is?" The half-elf spoke with none of the refined manner that one would expect from a princess. But Coventry knew she had never been trained in the royal etiquette.
"Lambert Coventry, your royal highness. It is my honor to meet you. Although in truth, we have met before while I was in the service of His Majesty King Henry. I believe you were only three years old then."
In fact, he had met her more than once. The King had secretly visited her several times after sending her away. Coventry had been there to see her happily taking care of orphans, living alone in a forest but for the occasional visits from her caretaker in the Saxe-Gotha family. It was painful to remember.
It was all the more painful to remember that somehow Cromwell had gotten to her and convinced her that he was fighting a just cause. Had the king been heartbroken to see her appear with the enemy, or happy to know that she was at least safe and alive?
"Oh, I'm sorry!"
"Please do not apologize, your royal highness. It is only natural that you cannot remember something from that age," said Coventry.
"I have other business to attend to, your royal highness, so I shall take my leave. Please send a messenger to inform me if you find this man suitable," Fairfax said with a slight bow.
"Of course, thank you general," said Tiffania.
Soon it was just Coventry and the new princess left.
An awkward silence followed while Tiffania fidgeted with her fingers.
"If I may, your royal highness?" Coventry asked eventually, burning questions on his mind.
"Huh? If you may what?" The confused Tiffania asked back.
The former captain silently berated himself for following an etiquette the princess did not understand.
"My apologies, I mean that I have questions."
"Oh, please go ahead."
"What happened after Newcastle? Is the civil war over? Who is in charge of Albion right now? I'm afraid I've been in the dungeons ever since I was captured, and have been unaware of recent events."
"Um…General Fairfax has taken charge of most things, I think, but he follows Lord Muurleth's orders."
'Muurleth! That lying, opportunistic, self-serving bastard! Instead of helping us, he waited until the King was dead then took the throne for himself. And he's even calling himself Divine Greatness now? As if he's a god!' Anger rose up as soon as Coventry heard the name. 'So he is the one who granted the princess her title. But what is his purpose?'
Unaware of Coventry's inner turmoil, Tiffania continued. "After he brought me to Londinium I've stayed in the palace ever since, so I'm not sure what happened elsewhere. I wish I knew but I don't know who to ask…"
'Nobody is supporting her. A princess in name only. She has no allies or power,' Coventry realized. 'But that's even stranger. There would be no political benefit to giving her the title. On the contrary, it would make Muurleth many enemies to favor a half-elf. Yet, he not only assigned her a noble rank, but gave her the title of Princess Royal, a title that should only be conferred on the ruling king's eldest daughter, and only at the king's discretion to indicate the highest rank among all princesses. What could he possibly want to achieve?'
"Will they not let you out of the palace?"
"Ah no, I can go outside if I want to…"
'Not a prisoner in a gilded cage either. The title is meant to be taken seriously?'
"But everyone is afraid of me…I don't want to cause trouble."
Tiffania's eyes involuntarily darted to the handmaiden who stood to the side, head firmly facing down. Tiffania's own face then turned downcast as if saddened.
Coventry saw the action and understood what it meant. 'Even her own servants! Nothing has changed, after all, my liege.'
"I see," he said, while gripping his hands into fists.
"So um…you are really willing to be my guard? You aren't being forced, are you? Even though…" she trailed off, but Coventry knew the words that went unsaid.
At the princess's reminder, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. He, the former royal guard captain, was being assigned to her, the daughter of the king, who had been vested with all the authority of a real princess but did not know how to make use of it.
He even had a choice whether to accept, as if testing his loyalty. And he realized that he truly did have a choice in that moment.
It wasn't just the choice to walk away free.
Right now, here in this room, it appeared that the princess was left alone with a mere commoner servant to stand between her and a Square class mage, a former prisoner at that.
If he bore any ill will towards her, now was a perfect time to strike. He'd even been given back his swordwand to do it.
But why did Muurleth set up this scenario? If he wanted the princess dead, he could have gotten rid of her at any time, and nobody would have batted an eye.
Which meant that it was the opposite.
Muurleth wanted a genuinely loyal man, not somebody who would serve just because he commanded it, but somebody who willingly chose to be the princess's guard captain.
Somebody who would protect her without hesitation and could advise her with his experience having served the previous king, helping her step into the role of a true princess with her own faction of supporters.
Both the symbolism of all this, and the practical side of it, led towards the same conclusion.
Muurleth had awarded her the title of the Princess Royal.
A title exclusively eligible to the eldest daughter of the monarch who bestowed the title.
And in the case of there being no male heir senior to her, the eldest daughter was heir presumptive.
In other words…
'Muurleth intends to raise her to the throne?! And not as a mere puppet either, if I'm being allowed to advise her!'
The thought brought a joy and excitement he hadn't felt for months. Then doubts quickly put a damper on it.
'But to put a half-elf on the throne is no small task…and…what of Prince Wales?'
Interpreting his long silence the wrong way, Tiffania spoke up again with a sad expression. "You don't have to if you don't want to. If you're being forced to do this, I will help you escape later."
Coventry was suddenly moved by the sheer kindness of the princess. Not only did she not despise those who were prejudiced against her, she would even help them without regard for her own safety.
It was enough to make his decision.
'There is no doubt that she would be a most wondrous Queen, and a princess with Muurleth's favor has better chances than a prince still in exile. If the Tudor line is to return to the throne, then I must do everything in my power to assist her!'
He held one fist to his chest then kneeled as if making a solemn pledge.
"Your royal highness, if you will accept me, then I will protect you with my life. I would be proud to be able to continue serving the Tudor line," he said resolutely, eyes staring straight into her own surprised ones.
O O O
The captain of the late King Henry of Albion's royal guard was doing push ups in his dark cell when he heard the sound of footsteps coming his way.
He settled down into a sitting position, breathing lightly as several figures came into view on the other side of the prison bars.
The imposing armored form of General Fairfax came to a stop, turning to face him, flanked by two officers and two prison guards.
"Open the cell," he ordered.
As the guards moved to unlock the prison, the captain stood up. "What's going on?"
"You have a new assignment, Captain Coventry," said General Fairfax.
"Is this a joke? You think we would serve in your army?"
The door to the prison was opened, but the captain did not move from his spot.
"Captain Coventry, with whom does your loyalty lie? Do the oaths you swore when you became the captain of the royal guard still hold true?" Fairfax asked slowly.
"Of course! My loyalty is to King Henry and the house of Tudor! I will never serve traitors such as the likes of you!" Coventry snarled back.
"Then prove it. You are being called to duty again, to serve the royal blood once more. Or are your words just empty bluster?"
At those words, confusion was etched onto Coventry's face. "The royal blood?"
Fairfax gestured and one of the officers stepped into the cell.
He was carrying a small wooden box, which he placed onto the table inside the cell. With a quick movement, he opened the box, then removed a neatly folded uniform and a swordwand, before returning back outside the cell.
Coventry stared at his uniform and swordwand. "This is a trick, isn't it? Are you trying to tell me you're secretly loyal to the Crown? Or have you defected again?! I don't believe it. No, I refuse to believe something so ridiculous!"
"Believe whatever you like. If you do not want to return to duty, you do not have to. My orders were only to release you and offer you the opportunity," said Fairfax. "Guards, lead him out once he is ready to go. We're done here."
Then he turned and walked away, the two officers following.
Coventry watched this with his mouth agape. His hand moved to his swordwand, and the guards did not seem to react, simply standing there with the prison door wide open.
He ran out the door with swordwand in hand, and looked down the corridor to see that Fairfax was really leaving.
It wasn't long before he shouted after them.
O O O
Back in his uniform, Captain Coventry followed Fairfax out of the dungeons and was led around the castle until they reached a particular room which was protected by two guards.
A female servant greeted them at the door before going back inside. After a while, she came back.
"Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal will see you now."
Confusion was etched onto the face of the captain as he followed Fairfax into the room. He knew based on familiarity that he had been imprisoned in the palace at Londinium, and they were still there. So how could there be a princess, let alone Princess Royal, a rank which the king had never awarded? The only Albion royal still alive should have been Prince Wales.
When he saw the figure waiting inside beside a tea table, confusion turned to shock.
There, sitting demurely in a decorated white and gold gown was the bastard half-elf daughter of King Henry, Tiffania, the very same one who suddenly appeared before the King's duel with Cromwell.
She gave him an inquisitive glance, then turned to greet Fairfax.
"General Fairfax, what I can help you with?" She asked.
"Your royal highness, His Divine Greatness feels that you need a proper guard to ensure your safety. This man is the former Captain of your father's Royal Guard and therefore possesses the necessary qualifications to lead your own guard," said Fairfax.
"Oh um…it's a pleasure to meet you, ah…um your name is?" The half-elf spoke with none of the refined manner that one would expect from a princess. But Coventry knew she had never been trained in the royal etiquette.
"Lambert Coventry, your royal highness. It is my honor to meet you. Although in truth, we have met before while I was in the service of His Majesty King Henry. I believe you were only three years old then."
In fact, he had met her more than once. The King had secretly visited her several times after sending her away. Coventry had been there to see her happily taking care of orphans, living alone in a forest but for the occasional visits from her caretaker in the Saxe-Gotha family. It was painful to remember.
It was all the more painful to remember that somehow Cromwell had gotten to her and convinced her that he was fighting a just cause. Had the king been heartbroken to see her appear with the enemy, or happy to know that she was at least safe and alive?
"Oh, I'm sorry!"
"Please do not apologize, your royal highness. It is only natural that you cannot remember something from that age," said Coventry.
"I have other business to attend to, your royal highness, so I shall take my leave. Please send a messenger to inform me if you find this man suitable," Fairfax said with a slight bow.
"Of course, thank you general," said Tiffania.
Soon it was just Coventry and the new princess left.
An awkward silence followed while Tiffania fidgeted with her fingers.
"If I may, your royal highness?" Coventry asked eventually, burning questions on his mind.
"Huh? If you may what?" The confused Tiffania asked back.
The former captain silently berated himself for following an etiquette the princess did not understand.
"My apologies, I mean that I have questions."
"Oh, please go ahead."
"What happened after Newcastle? Is the civil war over? Who is in charge of Albion right now? I'm afraid I've been in the dungeons ever since I was captured, and have been unaware of recent events."
"Um…General Fairfax has taken charge of most things, I think, but he follows Lord Muurleth's orders."
'Muurleth! That lying, opportunistic, self-serving bastard! Instead of helping us, he waited until the King was dead then took the throne for himself. And he's even calling himself Divine Greatness now? As if he's a god!' Anger rose up as soon as Coventry heard the name. 'So he is the one who granted the princess her title. But what is his purpose?'
Unaware of Coventry's inner turmoil, Tiffania continued. "After he brought me to Londinium I've stayed in the palace ever since, so I'm not sure what happened elsewhere. I wish I knew but I don't know who to ask…"
'Nobody is supporting her. A princess in name only. She has no allies or power,' Coventry realized. 'But that's even stranger. There would be no political benefit to giving her the title. On the contrary, it would make Muurleth many enemies to favor a half-elf. Yet, he not only assigned her a noble rank, but gave her the title of Princess Royal, a title that should only be conferred on the ruling king's eldest daughter, and only at the king's discretion to indicate the highest rank among all princesses. What could he possibly want to achieve?'
"Will they not let you out of the palace?"
"Ah no, I can go outside if I want to…"
'Not a prisoner in a gilded cage either. The title is meant to be taken seriously?'
"But everyone is afraid of me…I don't want to cause trouble."
Tiffania's eyes involuntarily darted to the handmaiden who stood to the side, head firmly facing down. Tiffania's own face then turned downcast as if saddened.
Coventry saw the action and understood what it meant. 'Even her own servants! Nothing has changed, after all, my liege.'
"I see," he said, while gripping his hands into fists.
"So um…you are really willing to be my guard? You aren't being forced, are you? Even though…" she trailed off, but Coventry knew the words that went unsaid.
At the princess's reminder, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. He, the former royal guard captain, was being assigned to her, the daughter of the king, who had been vested with all the authority of a real princess but did not know how to make use of it.
He even had a choice whether to accept, as if testing his loyalty. And he realized that he truly did have a choice in that moment.
It wasn't just the choice to walk away free.
Right now, here in this room, it appeared that the princess was left alone with a mere commoner servant to stand between her and a Square class mage, a former prisoner at that.
If he bore any ill will towards her, now was a perfect time to strike. He'd even been given back his swordwand to do it.
But why did Muurleth set up this scenario? If he wanted the princess dead, he could have gotten rid of her at any time, and nobody would have batted an eye.
Which meant that it was the opposite.
Muurleth wanted a genuinely loyal man, not somebody who would serve just because he commanded it, but somebody who willingly chose to be the princess's guard captain.
Somebody who would protect her without hesitation and could advise her with his experience having served the previous king, helping her step into the role of a true princess with her own faction of supporters.
Both the symbolism of all this, and the practical side of it, led towards the same conclusion.
Muurleth had awarded her the title of the Princess Royal.
A title exclusively eligible to the eldest daughter of the monarch who bestowed the title.
And in the case of there being no male heir senior to her, the eldest daughter was heir presumptive.
In other words…
'Muurleth intends to raise her to the throne?! And not as a mere puppet either, if I'm being allowed to advise her!'
The thought brought a joy and excitement he hadn't felt for months. Then doubts quickly put a damper on it.
'But to put a half-elf on the throne is no small task…and…what of Prince Wales?'
Interpreting his long silence the wrong way, Tiffania spoke up again with a sad expression. "You don't have to if you don't want to. If you're being forced to do this, I will help you escape later."
Coventry was suddenly moved by the sheer kindness of the princess. Not only did she not despise those who were prejudiced against her, she would even help them without regard for her own safety.
It was enough to make his decision.
'There is no doubt that she would be a most wondrous Queen, and a princess with Muurleth's favor has better chances than a prince still in exile. If the Tudor line is to return to the throne, then I must do everything in my power to assist her!'
He held one fist to his chest then kneeled as if making a solemn pledge.
"Your royal highness, if you will accept me, then I will protect you with my life. I would be proud to be able to continue serving the Tudor line," he said resolutely, eyes staring straight into her own surprised ones.
O O O
- Location
- Deep inside the sand
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Great change of view chapter. Looks like its going to be changes to the monarchy.
- Location
- Dhaka, Bangladesh
Correct me if I'm wrong didn't Tiffania get murdered a couple chapters back?
- Location
- Earth
No, she got replaced by a clone.
20 – Seize Church Property
Mental Influence -13 votes
Warding - 13 votes
Warding - 13 votes
20 – Seize Church Property
When I returned to Fairfax, I inspected the half-elf daughter of the king, also known as Tiffania, Matilda's friend. It appeared that she was actually still alive.
As Fairfax was a close confidante of Cromwell, I questioned him extensively regarding Tiffania. Although he did not know much about it, as it was a very secret operation, he did reveal a few important facts.
First was that there had indeed been a female secretary with exotic facial features that helped Cromwell, but nobody knew her whereabouts. They'd assumed that she died on board the Lexington, though I didn't buy that for a second.
Second, Fairfax was aware of the gargoyles that could pretend to be other people. But he also revealed that there were a number of Halkegenian spells that could accomplish much the same thing. A high level wind and water spell using blood could create an imposter as well, though it was less sturdy than the gargoyles. An advanced wind spell called "Split" could also create wind clones of mages that could even cast magic.
At the same time, there were counter spells which could check the identity of suspected frauds. These were commonly known. People just weren't in the habit of checking for imposters except when "lost" pretenders to the throne or a noble title suddenly appeared and their legitimacy had to be verified.
That was probably why the real Tiffania had been kept alive. The nobles could actually verify her identity pretty easily.
Then I interrogated Tiffania, and eventually discovered she was actually a Void mage capable of casting a memory erasure spell, but incapable of any elven spirit magics, except for the one that used her mother's ring to heal.
She had learned the memory erasure spell as a young child playing with the Founder's Music Box.
I didn't remember much of anything about her from the story except that she saved Saito after he stalled the huge army, and was an exceptionally naïve and kind person.
Nevertheless, I gave her the Music Box to try out. She couldn't get it to work though. That was when she mentioned that the first time it worked, she had also been wearing the Wind Ruby, which glowed when the Music Box started playing music.
Based on this, it seemed that the Founder's Rings were also required, possibly even a specific one for each treasure. I had then quickly sent out orders to find the Prince Wales, but he hadn't turned up yet.
As for the elvish healing ring, that turned out to be a gem enchanted with the "power of water".
That ring had a built-in spell to be activated, so Tiffania didn't know any real spirit magic. I ultimately let her keep it because I had no urgent need of the healing spell, and I would eventually have a better solution in the water stone once I mastered it.
But even if I did have need of it, I wouldn't have been able to use it anyway. Tiffania told me that the enchantment which allowed her to activate the spell was set up to only work for her.
That led me to the realization that perhaps there had actually been some built-in spells on the Ring of Andvari before I broke it. It was just that Myozunitonirun had locked them to Cromwell.
Because of her Void power and elven heritage, I decided to keep her around and assist her in learning Void spells if the opportunity arose.
But unlike with Louise, Tiffania could also serve as my political pawn.
I'd looked for candidates to appoint as the ruler, but no other person stood out to me. I could crown Fairfax, but I felt the man was more useful as a counterweight to whomever sat on the throne, being in control of the military.
Tiffania, despite the backlash she'd face for being a half-elf, was someone I could easily manipulate. Her personality was too kind, and she lacked any political power of her own, or even experience in court.
With her as a figurehead ruler, the country's administrative policies would still largely be in the hands of the executive council positions, which I intended to re-organize anyways.
In this way, I could get competent people to fill all the necessary roles, and leave Tiffania to work on charitable causes.
But rather than enthroning her immediately, I left the throne nominally vacant. An interregnum.
I didn't want a Regent to have too much influence over her while I was away, nor did I want to rock the boat too much by having a half-elf head of state before people got used to the idea of having a half-elf princess.
With an interregnum, the matter of succession remained theoretically open.
Later on, I would make an official announcement that I intended to appoint a worthy ruler after demonstrating their competency, faith, loyalty, and benevolence, and the same criteria would be applied to most government positions, while new assemblies, councils, and committees would be created.
These opportunities wouldn't just be limited to nobles either. Many meritocratic reforms would soon follow, allowing wealthy, educated commoners to participate in government and contribute to the treasury.
Many ambitious nobles and even commoners would then be distracted, competing to perform good deeds and seek my favor, instead of plotting to overthrow the new order.
Unfortunately, these remained only far off plans.
In the short-term there were far too many other problems to deal with.
Before the state could centralize and firmly come under my control through a new bureaucracy, the civil war needed to end.
While there were no more openly rebellious factions, this did not mean that there was no unrest, or that I had full control over the kingdom. The vast majority of the kingdom outside of the immediate area surrounding Londinium was liable to devolve back into rebellion at any time.
The fact of the matter was that the strength of arms from my explosives only achieved a temporary state of suppression, which would quickly evaporate if the men were not paid and fed properly.
A serious problem was the composition of the Reconquista army itself.
Firstly, it included the presence of demihuman troops, who began to desert en masse and even attack the other troops without whatever methods Cromwell had to keep them obedient.
Fairfax was forced to get rid of them before they seriously damaged the human forces.
Secondly, it was not a single organization, but consisted of numerous auxiliary armies contributed from various nobles and mercenary groups.
Of the remaining non-demihuman troops, only 30% were under Fairfax's direct command which Cromwell had paid and organized, but some 40% of the army consisted of noble levies, while the last 30% were mercenaries.
Because of Fairfax's quick maneuver to capture the court at the capital, we had effectively held a number of allied nobles hostage and maintained control of their levies.
But soon there wouldn't be any money left to pay the army, and many nobles faced funding shortages to maintain their levies too.
The royal treasury had already been seized and funds exhausted when Londinium was first conquered by Reconquista.
Already, the mercenaries had been disbanded as they were the largest expense, and we were still facing a financial crisis.
While Cromwell was in control, Reconquista had continuously received funds from various donors, including a large portion from Gallia.
These funds dried up once Cromwell was dead, and we were on the verge of bankruptcy.
The food shortage was no less a concern either because Albion had been in civil war for too long, so agricultural productivity had dropped to an all-time low. Imports from abroad had filled the gap, but Gallia shipping volume had suddenly dropped as well, creating another impending disaster.
We had perhaps one week of food left before facing the possibility of famine. The only reason this wasn't a bigger problem than our finances was because Germania had plenty of food to spare and was very willing to trade it if only we had money.
With modern economics, finance expertise, and access to many valuable inventions, I had many ways to strengthen the treasury, but it would take months at the least to institute the required reforms or develop the necessary businesses.
If I were able to freely travel between planes with no restrictions, then I could just ship over gold and other materials from the uninhabited worlds I controlled on Worm, especially the Earth M2 base where Offensive Bias produced the AAPV and all the equipment in it.
However, there was a price to shift planes.
Forming the tunnel through Kaleidoscape required a special form of energy that Agate passively collected from a plane's Creation Mystery using her path to the Root. We called this energy Primordial Grain—so named because it countered the Primordial Chaos, and Zelretch theorized that it was a higher order analog of the Grain that celestial bodies were composed of.
It took about a week to collect enough for one trip. There was no known way of speeding this up, or substituting it, so even though it wasn't difficult to acquire, it was an exceedingly limited resource. If one trip for one soul was approximately equal to one unit, then I had five units worth when I arrived in this world. This was a minimal level I kept in reserve to ensure I had enough to move several times in quick succession in case the need arose.
After a week and a half of being on this world, I now had six trip's worth, but even so, why waste any if I might have an actually pressing need to use them in the future? If I came across a situation that was actually time sensitive and required multiple trips to handle, or if I got chased across planes by something capable of following me, then I'd regret wasting them.
So I did not want to make a round trip to Worm and back just to get a small vehicle's worth of supplies, if there were other alternatives. For the same reason, I wouldn't go back and forth between planes to uplift one by bringing in a large amount of tech infrastructure without a very good reason.
In the end, I resorted to the sad medieval practice of nationalizing Church properties and seizing wealth from heretics to stay solvent. Fortunately, with my new religion, almost everyone had turned into a heretic so there was plenty of wealth to be confiscated, with an appropriate share redistributed to the new faithful.
Faith without a visible divine presence tended to follow material benefits, and with the identification of heretics becoming a lucrative business, there were many that became fervent 'believers' of the new religion.
Albion had only a single archbishopric based just east of Londinium at Canterbury, which was the first to be taken over, and it was necessary to make a public spectacle of it.
The archbishopric was subordinate to the Papacy in Romalia, even chosen by the Romalian Pope, and this was obviously not acceptable. It collected taxes on the surrounding lands and had its own levies, but paid more money to Romalia instead of the Crown.
Functionally, bishoprics and archbishoprics had rights similar to counts and dukes in terms of taxation, and because there was no inheritance system that split the wealth among many heirs, they tended to be rather wealthy, especially with the additional income from donations.
The archbishop of Canterbury predictably refused to acknowledge the new religion, but he was only a Triangle mage and easily defeated.
He was brought to Londinium in chains and a public trial was organized in front of the Londinium Cathedral, which was similarly taken over as was the bishopric of Londonium.
The bishop of London was intelligent enough to surrender, convert, and contribute funds to the new Church of Muurleth, having been a man that Cromwell had installed previously.
He therefore had the great honor of presiding over the trial of the heretical archbishop.
A great crowd of commoners had gathered to watch, and the court nobles were also in attendance, as were the top military leaders.
The former archbishop was tied up to a high stake on a platform and his mouth was gagged. Stripped of his clothes, only allowed to wear rags, and having been tortured repeatedly, he looked nothing like a priest anymore.
Several other priests were similarly tied up next to him.
"Former Archbishop Carlisle of Canterbury, you are accused of heresy, high treason, idolatry, devil worship, abuse of authority, embezzlement of church funds, forcing and coercing carnal relations on church attendants, including children, and fraudulently offering absolution in exchange for carnal favours!" The bishop Wellesley of Londonium read loudly from an official looking parchment, standing next to Carlisle.
"Let the witnesses come forth!" He shouted and gestured.
A procession of various witnesses came forth, including nobles and commoners and other lower ranking priests.
Each one had been paid for their courage in speaking out, and promised reparations for the archbishop's crimes if the trial was successful.
As they described in detail the evidence against the archbishop, the crowd gasped and looked revolted.
Carlisle moaned and grunted, trying to speak, but was unable to with the rag in his mouth.
"As you have heard, this man is a Papist dog, a traitor to Albion, and a corrupt devil worshipper! He has stolen a hundred thousand écus to give to his masters in Romalia, and damned the souls of hundreds of unknowing innocents who were deceived into worshipping fake idols and paying for absolution with carnal acts! He has corrupted and traumatized children and led a cult of evil by abusing his authority as the Archbishop!"
Planted people within the crowd started to shout angry curses at the archbishop, which led to the rest of the crown quickly following suit.
Wellesley pulled the rag off Carlisle's mouth. "What have you to say for yourself? Will you not recant and repent even with the clear evidence?!"
"N-no! These are fabrications, lies!" Carlisle shouted. "These witnesses are fake!"
Wellesley pulled out several documents and shoved them in front of Carlisle's face. "You still deny it? We have documents here clearly showing the monies you paid to the Papacy, which you stole from the Albion people!"
"Those were rightfully paid taxes, not stolen!"
Wellesley smacked Carlisle as if in rage. Then he stuffed the gag back on.
He turned and walked around, holding up the documents in the air. "Did you hear that, good people of Albion?! This man dares to steal from Albion and claims it to be rightful! He has betrayed his kingdom and sold out to a foreign power, while you have suffered without bread, toiling away under the sun for a measly few coins each day! While you were starving, the money that should have been yours was used to let him live in a sinful life of debauchery and pampering his foreign masters! It is people like this who have made Albion weak and caused hardship for all of you!"
The crowd was visibly angered now and many looked like they wanted to execute the archbishop with their own hands.
But Wellesley raised his hands and asked for calm. After a few moments, the angry cries died down.
"But let it be known that the Church of Muurleth is fair and just, we shall now hear from the archbishop's own subordinates!" He then ungagged one of the other tied up priests. "Tell us of the crimes that the archbishop is accused of! What he bid you do, and the sins you have committed!"
The severely tortured priest was quick to confess and sob as he admitted to everything and then some, begging for a quick death.
The crowd was again enraged, and they started throwing things at the evil men in front of them.
"Look, archbishop Carlisle, even your own subordinates have confessed their sins! It is too late for you sinners to escape punishment in this life, but you shall have one last chance to save your soul! I, Bishop Wellesley of Londinium, by the authority vested in me as Inquisitor of the Church, hereby declare that your punishment shall be burning at the stake! You will experience a taste of what awaits you in hell, and I implore you to repent to save your soul before you leave your mortal coil!"
He ripped off the gags on all of the accused heretics. Carlisle protested and cursed him, but was ignored.
An executioner casted a fire spell and began burning all of the accused.
The screams and wails of those being burned were drowned out by the crowd's cheers.
Wellesley looked pleased and took the opportunity to direct the crowd's cheers.
"Praise His Divine Greatness, Muurleth, God of Albion, He Who Sees Beyond, for exposing this evil and rescuing the kingdom from these traitors and devil worshippers! All hail God Muurleth!"
"All hail God Muurleth!" They shouted exuberantly.
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
[Agate]
Agate reporting in!
I tried to create a simple mental compulsion spell, but it was a complete failure! Even flies refused to go away!
Then I tried warding, starting with the most basic of the basic, just something like a Bounded Field that gave us an alarm. I successfully made the water spirits in the stone warn us when humidity is low!
In other words, aren't they just complaining that there's not enough water nearby?
Argh! This is too hard. Maybe we'd have better luck starting with something more obviously water related. It seems that mental influence and warding are more advanced conceptual uses of the water element, or maybe something to do with the spirits themselves. But it's only been a few days, I shouldn't expect too much anyways.
Should I keep trying, or work on something else? Kaleidus is almost done with managing the kingdom, so we'll both be able to work on this soon. Two minds are better than one, as they say, so maybe we'll get better results.
[] Physical Water Manipulation (macroscopic)
[] Physical Water Manipulation (microscopic)
[] Healing Physical Injuries
[] Healing Diseases
[] Mental Influence
[] Warding
[] Corpse Reanimation
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
A/N: For the time being, there's going to be an Agate training vote every time we're in MC POV, there's a reasonable expectation that there is time to actually experiment (a few days), and if Agate is not away from the MC. If there isn't a few days between chapters, it will just progress according to the previous vote. The progress will also change significantly according to some catalysts in the story itself, and longer periods of experimentation.
Also, the MC has finally learned why Myoz was unconcerned about losing the ring. Objects enchanted with spirit magic or otherwise hosting spirits can choose who they will work for to a degree.
IMPORTANT NOTE TO NEW READERS: There are a number of side stories (SS 1.2-1.5) you can read which chronologically fit in around this time in the story, and take place before the next chapter. They expand on the aftermath of the conquest and how the new administration was set up.
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- Location
- Earth
I think macroscopic water control and healing injuries might be the easiest to learn. Microscopic control might run into other pitfalls, but we know that basic healing is very common in the setting so it shouldnt be too hard.
I can't seem to open voting with the new forum feature for a post after it's already posted, so I'm posting again to open voting.
[] Physical Water Manipulation (macroscopic)
[] Physical Water Manipulation (microscopic)
[] Healing Physical Injuries
[] Healing Diseases
[] Mental Influence
[] Warding
[] Corpse Reanimation
[] Physical Water Manipulation (microscopic)
[] Healing Physical Injuries
[] Healing Diseases
[] Mental Influence
[] Warding
[] Corpse Reanimation
- Location
- canada
I think microscopic water control is what synergizes with healing the most, since both are about the delicate and precise control of water on a tiny scale. In fact that's probably also how it goes to mental effects if it's not just 'add magic' for how it works, since the mind can very well be controlled via physical means if the brain itself can be carefully manipulated.
But for the sake of actually training properly, I think both of the water manipulation has to bedone before anything else. From roughly controlling simple and large globs of water, to precision control of tiny fractions of drops, to exact bits within a living organism.
[X] Physical Water Manipulation (macroscopic)
[X] Physical Water Manipulation (microscopic)
the body is made of 70% water. if enough of that can be controlled to mimic exactly what the corpse did biologically while it was alive, then it can be reanimated to move and act as if it was alive. That's probably why it's not revival and more of a reanimation.
That Does bring up an interesting question of exactly what is needed to make magic happen though. Since I remember even an reanimated person can use magic, then spiritual stuff like souls means little to nothing here for spellcasting, and only physical components are truly needed, that is if a mind can be considered in a purely physical term such as brain processes anyways.
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I really dislike rigged trials. This was not a good chapter.
TwistedJester
Tired Lurker King
- Location
- Hell
[X] Physical Water Manipulation (macroscopic)
Loved how he just ripped what happened in our history to enable himself.
On the training, I personally think that we're gonna need a more a personal oomph as we need to sell the religion angle better without burning through more of our resources.
Loved how he just ripped what happened in our history to enable himself.
On the training, I personally think that we're gonna need a more a personal oomph as we need to sell the religion angle better without burning through more of our resources.