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Chapter 337 - Latias Kingdom
🕑 Added 2023-06-25 10:26:55 +0000 UTCThe Latias Kingdom began as an eastern province of the Herkelan Empire.
Under orders from the emperor, armies were sent to annex the region and grow the Empire’s borders in the time known as the Great Expansion. After decades of fighting, the bloody conquest of the indigenous people came to an end. The Empire’s territory grew by a fourth.
The land was rich and full of bounty, the Empire gnawed on the land greedily to sate the neverending need of goods. One side grew fat at the expense of another. Decades of discontent were brewing in the hearts of the people.
When the Empire came under two-pronged attacks from the undead forces to the north and the savage demons to the west, one man saw the chaos as an opportunity to break free from the Empire’s yoke. With the support of the people, he declared independence during one of the most perilous times for the human race in history.
Six years had passed since then. After the Empire barely endured the assault, they mustered their forces to the east to take back their province. The Empire’s army was filled with seasoned veterans of the great war, bloodied in the greatest conflict of the era. Compared to the undead or the demons, the fledgling kingdom had far less military power. Many in the Empire thought the rogue nation would be bright back into the fold with little trouble.
But the man that led the revolution, who had become the first king of the second nation of humanity on the continent, repelled the Empire's advance. The man rode to battle riding a great red dragon and set the mighty armies of the Empire ablaze.
Four times the Empire tried using the might of arms. Four times they failed. Historians of the Latias Kingdom chronicled it as the Four Follies.
The kingdom was safe thanks to the man that would be known as the legendary first king of the Latias Kingdom, Athos the Dragon of Dawn.
The legendary king’s origin is a mystery. Was he originally part of the Empire or was he a member of the tribes that had lived there before the Empire’s coming? No one I talked to can answer this question with certainty.
The nation prospered until it became one of the biggest four in the Human Dominion, rivaling its former host. However, because of its origin, there were still Herkelans that believed the Latias Kingdom belonged to the Empire to this day. The relationship between the two neighboring nations was icy at the best of times and wars occurred like seasonal storms.
Latias’ culture reflects back on its founding, on the warrior king. Martial prowess is thought highly by the lords of great houses. The pride of the nation, metal-clad warriors, loyal guardians of the kingdom, use their swords to defend the realm from those who want to do her harm. The knights are often seen roaming the land in search of virtuous deeds.
Should they be deemed worthy, perhaps they would be called to pledge their sword to the crown.
There is no greater honor for a knight of Latias than to serve the House of the Dragon.
Excerpt from the Atlas of Civilizations, written by Bartholomew the Grand Voyager.
***
“Master, it looks like rain.”
“Mmm.”
“Fuu?”
Futon rustled under Viers’ robe and asked if he should do something about it.
“Let's just take shelter there.”
Following Viers’ finger, Boram saw a humble traveler's inn beside the road.
The two arrived at the doorsteps just in time before the drizzle turned into an outright downpour. As they opened the door, the creak made the earlier patrons cast their gaze upon the two cloaked figures.
One seemed to be a young man with a kid. A younger brother perhaps.
A man and a child went to a bar…
“Welcome. What would you be having today?” A freckled waitress with red hair approached as the two took their seats. Thankfully, there were still empty tables available.
“What do you recommend?” Viers asked.
The young waitress went after the pair decided on their orders.
“So,” Viers drank water for refreshments. “What do you think of the foreign land?”
“It’s… nice? I saw how people live differently than in the Coalition.”
“Heh,” Viers only smiled.
Their orders came. There was still some time before noon so it was a bit early for lunch. The two sampled the local dishes as the rain continued pouring down. After they finished, the two didn't leave immediately, waiting for the weather to turn for the better.
It came to Viers' attention of the inn’s sorry quality but he didn't see any other place to stay. While Boram was in a waiting meditation, Viers approached the bartender making drinks.
“Any interesting things happening around here lately?” Viers slid a coin on the smooth wooden table.
“Don't know if it's interesting for ya but I can tell you a few things,” the man had a crooked tooth.
The man talked and Viers listened. He gave orders to the waitress sometimes and was able to prepare drinks while continuing his stories.
Before long, the sounds of horses could be heard, along with the voices of several men. They opened the door boisterously while laughing. In a joyful mood no doubt. The faces of the occupants darkened seeing the armored gang’s entrance. They too smelled trouble in the air.
“What’s this? There’s no empty table,” the man with the nicest armor said.
“I’ll take care of it, boss. Hey you! Empty this table at once.”
The people at that table did so without question. The waitress promptly whisked away the used plates and mugs. She did so nervously.
“W-welcome, milords. W-what can I do for you?”
“First, ale for me and me boys. Second, fill this table with the best dishes you have, and then… Gweheheh…”
The color was drained from the waitress’ face. Just as a strong thunderclap resounded in the sky.
“What are you standing around for,” the man’s crony said. “Chop-chop!”
“A-at once!”
The waitress was pulled by the bartender, who was apparently the owner, and he talked to her in whispers. The other people in the inn gave the five men a wide berth and didn't dare to talk loudly like before. The wiser ones began to leave after paying, some without finishing their food.
The armed five people acted as if they owned the place, drinking, laughing, and making merry without regard to others. One knight, his squire, and three cronies.
After their bellies were full, they went on to their next order of business.
“Girl, come with me,” the knight said to the pale waitress. “Mister, I’ll be taking your room.”
“Sir, please, have merc-”
The crooked teeth bartender was unable to finish his words because the man hit him, resulting in a bloodied mouth.
“How dare you talk back to me, commoner. I’m a knight, you fool!”
The man grabbed the waitress by her arms and forcefully pulled her to the back room.
“N-no… Milord, forgive me! Mercy! Please let me go. Someone! Anyone! Please, help…”
Despite her pleadings, the folks inside the inn didn't make a move.
“What, you think I'm not good enough for ya?” The knight scowled and raised his hand. “You should be honored!”
The waitress closed her eyes as the slap approached but in the next few seconds, she didn't feel any pain. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw Boram grab the knight's hand.
Boram turned to his master and saw Viers tilted his head very slightly to the right.
“I’m sorry, Master… My body just moved on its own.”
“No need to apologize, disciple.”
It just means you’re a better person than I am.
The cronies stood up, unsheathing their swords. At this time, the rest of the visitors raced to the door.
“You brat… Do you know who I am?” The man yanked his hand away from Boram’s grip and gave a threat.
“I have no idea,” Boram said calmly. “Why should I?”
The waitress bolted to the fallen bartender behind Boram and the two watched as the events unfolded.
“Hmph,” the man snorted. “You’re not from here, aren't you? Name yourself, brat.”
Boram looked at Viers again, this time he had his fist holding up his cheek and put his right foot on his left knee.
Boram got the message, he had to make his own choice.
“Boram Rockboa, slave and disciple of Master Avel.”
“A slave!? Kheh! Should have known. The master is responsible for his disciple’s action,” the knight eyed the hooded figure. He glimpsed the man was wearing a mask that covered his upper face under the hood.
“There’s truth in what you said,“ Viers said. “Which makes me wonder what kind of trashy reprobate your parents must be to have a waste of a son like you.”
“How dare you!”
“You’ll die for that insult!”
The cronies, especially the squire, looked at Viers with fiery eyes.
“...After this guy, you’re next. Because you’re a Pathseeker, I’ll allow you to die with a weapon in hand. Be grateful, I’ll give you a warrior's death.”
Boram was about to reach for his hammer without his eyes leaving the hostile man’s figure, but Viers called him out.
“No weapons, Boram.”
“As you wish.”
The roguish knight’s heart was like boiling magma. He’d decided these two people would die without a complete corpse.
With conflict seeming inevitable, Boram invoked an Arte.
“I, Boram Rockboa, hereby challenge you to single combat.”
The knight felt the nature of the priming Arte and instinctively understood the gist of it.
“Playing with dueling rites? Your grave, kid. I, Knight Hoffstein, accept!”
With the agreement of both parties, the Duel With Honor Arte was activated fully. A magical pattern appeared on the ground. The walls of the inn made the rest unable to be seen but the mark was ten meters in diameter.
Viers and the others were inside the radius of the Arte but they weren't affected. However, if Boram or the knight tried to leave, they would find it difficult. The Arte affected both sides equally.
“You four, don't interfere. Hyaaah!”
The knight used his Unreality Field and immediately went for Boram’s neck with his sword, only to be stopped by a bare hand.
“Im-”
Boram’s fist hit the knight’s gut with a loud, dull sound, cracking the metal armor and sending him reeling; he was sent through the inn’s walls and crashed against the magical barrier where he stopped.
The cronies and the waitress bartender duo had their jaws dropped while Viers was helping himself with the leftover but clean food and drinks.
“L-Level 3!? At that age?”
“Am I dreaming?”
“Sir Hoffstein! Are you alright?”
Viers took a fancy bottle that conveniently flew near him, opened the cork, and sniffed it. It was wine. He drank it straight from the bottle.
The knight rose again with a vengeance, the battle of the two rocked the foundation of the not-so-sturdy building.
The much older man was losing.
The bartender, who had his eyes fixed on the little savior’s battle, almost had a heart attack because Viers poked his shoulder.
“This is really good,” Viers was something resembling a noodle dish. “Can I have a take-out?”
“What are you four looking at? Get him!!”
Mouth bloody, face swollen, desperate. His loss was almost set in stone so the knight signaled his four followers to attack Boram.
Oh? What an idiot.
The moment he did that, he suffered Arte's backlash. The knight felt as if his heart was stabbed, his lungs crushed, his liver punctured, his blood flowed in reverse, and many other things. He spat out blood and lost consciousness.
The four that attacked Boram out of reflex were naturally getting the beat down they deserved.
Boram stood the victor and Victa from Hoffstein flowed into Boram.
“Should I kill them, Master?”
“It’s your call, disciple.”
Boram decided to spare their lives but stripped them out of everything they had in value.
“Master,” Boram offered the loot to Viers.
Viers gave a heavy coin pouch that Boram got from the squire to the trembling bartender.
“For your troubles.”
Viers walked out of the door that was somehow still standing despite both sides of the walls beside it laid broken.
“Ah, the rain has stopped.”
Viers helped himself with two of the horses that the company of five used to get here and commandeered them.
Just as the horses began to trot, the waitress came running before them.
“Sir Knight, Sir Little Knight, thank you very much!” She bowed deeply.
Compared to the five from earlier, the duo was much more knightly in the girl’s eyes.
Viers gave Boram the look that he should be the one responding. His disciple got the signal.
“Take care of yourself, milady.”
Viers and Boram continued their travels with new steeds.
A man and a child went to a bar. They fought bad men, beat them down, and left a destroyed bar in their wake. This sounds very familiar.
