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Arc#5 Chapter 1: A New Post
🕑 Added 2024-10-21 00:17:03 +0000 UTCReivan awoke with a start, a carpet's surface greeting him instead of a familiar ceiling or his lovely fiancee's sleeping form.
'Huh. Did I fall off? I fell off, didn't I...'
His question was immediately answered when a familiar set of feet stepped right in front of him, causing him to look up. And there stood one of his fiancees—the one that could beat him up if she really tried.
"You wouldn't wake up," Helen explained before he asked.
Reivan groaned as he slithered back into bed much like how his favorite snake would have. "Do I have to...?"
"It's dawn now. So yes."
He looked toward the window of his room in the palace and confirmed that no light was seeping through the curtain. It wasn't a very good way of telling the time, however, because they usually got up before dawn. Truly, he didn't need to check. His body's internal clock was already telling him that now was the time to get out of bed.
'What is this? I feel this overwhelming desire to stay in bed today.'
Reivan grabbed Helen's hand and pulled her into his lazy embrace. She let him do so with little resistance even though the annoyance in her impassive face was palpable to him. While hugging her tightly as the big spoon, he whispered. "Let's stay in today. Okay? Please?"
Helen stayed silent for a few moments, which made him think she was considering it. But in the end, she shook her head. "No. It'll build bad habits if we slack off for no good reason. Once is all it takes to establish a precedent."
"I mean, you're right. But... ten minutes should be fine, no?"
"No. Now, c'mon," she said, turning into a gust of wind to escape his grasp and reappearing by the door. "Get up. You can't keep running away from your duties forever."
Reivan groaned. Again, but longer and deeper this time.
She was right, of course. So he reluctantly got out of bed naked as the day he was born and materialized some decent clothes for some light morning sparring. With a wave of his hand, all the curtains were pulled aside, revealing that the sun truly hadn't risen yet.
It had been two weeks since the cataclysmic events that shook the Sentorale Continent and outright ruined one of the nations competing for its dominance.
Part of the continent was devastated beyond feasible recovery and the rest of it was in chaos. His brother, understandably so, had plans for him. Big plans. Very big plans, indeed. Plans that would be quite troublesome for Reivan, but were obviously most suited to him as the king's younger brother.
But that would be for after his wedding at the end of the month—which was two weeks from now give or take. For the month leading up to it, he was allowed to enjoy a time of peace. An advanced honeymoon, so to speak.
Upon his return to Aizen, he'd made internal jokes about how his hips would likely be pushed to their limits by the passion of reuniting with the fiancee he hadn't seen in months. But surprisingly, the past two weeks had been quite wholesome. Of course, two teenagers—who were in love and would be married very soon with the consent and support of their respective families—obviously wouldn't hold back in doing the deed. Nobody expected them not to, especially when they'd already stepped over that particular line months ago.
That said, most of their days were spent just relaxing, revisiting establishments they favored growing up, and meeting up with friends and acquaintances. Like Hector and Mimi, who were apparently engaged now. The young knights who he worked with for a time when he was training his leadership skills. Along with some other people who he only knew as "Van", the perfectly ordinary citizen who walked around with his gluttonous childhood friend.
His mother was also being suspiciously nice to him now, which was great but scary in its own way. Of course, she had always been good to him, but especially so these days. Perhaps it was because she'd somehow gotten wind of how he'd stopped using contraceptives with Helen, seeing no need to do so with their wedding literally weeks away. The list of concubines who would serve as surrogate mothers for him had also been finalized and he didn't even want to imagine the upcoming fiasco of naming all the children born from impregnating all those women—some of which, surprisingly, were part of the Terracatta Clan, which birthed Mimi and Jiji.
And nobody even saw any of this as strange. Past kings had simply been too chaste, making Reivan look like an utter manwhore in comparison. As the last mortal of their bloodline, the responsibility fell on him.
Though others would pity him or be envious of his luck, Reivan was actually happy to receive such responsibilities. It made him feel needed.
A much better fate than being a burden who only brought heartache to those he loved.
'Hopefully, Uncle makes it to the wedding.'
Apparently, his Uncle Viktor had led an expedition deep into the Outlands. They'd gone out of communication range so nobody knew anything specific, but they were apparently still alive and moving around. Not a single knight had been slain too, despite them being gone for months.
'Even the Sword Star's been busy with something, leaving the Outland portal to the Saintess...'
Well, there was nothing else to do but remain optimistic. He wanted both his uncle and the old man to be present for his first-ever wedding. A second one, for Elsamina, would follow half a year or so later and that wasn't any less special than his wedding with Helen, but he could already tell that he'd be less nervous the second time around.
Heck, it still hadn't really sunk in. He was getting married. To a woman. Him. The guy who used to be in a hospital bed all day for years on end, not knowing when he'd breathe his last.
Getting married.
It was one of the biggest wins a man could achieve in life. Having a woman acknowledge you as someone she wanted to build a family with.
And it was happening to him. To him.
'This is not a drill, man!'
Thinking about it made Reivan bounce on his feet as he walked side-by-side with his future wife. She seemed utterly aloof to the world as usual, but he could read the underlying happiness within. And that was enough to make him smile, taking her hand in his.
Helen looked at him, and for a moment, she smiled too.
'Yep. I'm a winner in life.'
That morning, the sparring wasn't as brutal as usual.
════════════════════════════════
After breakfast with the family, Helen got pulled away by his mother, Stella, and his nieces.
That left Reivan to himself for a while. Which wasn’t all that strange, since the two of them couldn’t spend every waking second of the day together, even if they were in their advanced honeymoon.
‘It’s probably about the dress. Or other wedding stuff.’
He wasn’t exactly uninterested in the wedding decor and whatnot. But he decided to follow the tradition of every man in the royal family since the kingdom’s conception. His brother had slipped a folded piece of paper with a set of family rules on the matter, showing the royal family’s accumulated wisdom once again.
1.) For all wedding matters, just nod along to whatever the family's women decide. They are inherently much better at this than you could ever be.
2.) If they insist on asking you for your input, your opinion probably doesn’t matter and they’ve already decided on something in their head. This is most common for flowers and other decorative aspects of the ceremony—this, however, is a trap. Simply smile and say “I trust your judgment”.
3.) You are, at most, allowed one very strong uncontested opinion. The First King’s suggestion is to use this to decide the cake’s flavor, if such a tradition is still retained in your era. Most have followed his lead to great success.
4.) Offer compliments such as “You’re right, this does feel perfect.” and other time-appropriate variations to please your wife or whichever female relative is handling the preparations to ensure harmony. Use them liberally. Overuse may cause suspicion.
5.) Your primary role in the preparations is to agree that everything looks splendid even if you lack a complete understanding of the wedding plans.
6.) It is important to know that the ability to adapt is paramount, as weddings are events that inherently invite chaos. This is especially so for the royal family's main line, because their weddings are often meant to be seen by the citizens and to be as extravagant as humanly possible. More variables mean a greater chance of something going wrong and ruining your wife's big day. This must be avoided at all costs because they will never forget this for the rest of your married life.
7.) There is no seventh rule. All men of the royal family are encouraged to offer their own special advice to whoever they are giving this set of rules to. We are of one blood. Let us all help each other get through this great ordeal. For Aizenwald!
His brother had added his own hastily scrawled rule at the bottom of the paper that said, “For royal weddings, there is no such thing as going over the budget. Saying that no amount of money can pay for the happiness you feel at your union will score you many many points and ensure a very satisfying honeymoon. Based on experience. Also, invest in a soundproofing artifact if you or your wife do not have the [Wind] attribute.”
Apparently, Roland himself had undergone his own trials and tribulations leading up to his wedding, but had completely lucked out by saying the above on pure reflex, clearing away all of Stella’s frustrations with him. Reivan hadn’t realized it at the time because he was just a kid with the soul of a maidenless virgin who was bedridden his whole life—there was no way in hell he would know anything about weddings.
In comparison, Helen was relatively calm about the ceremony itself. Her primary concern was the “getting married” part, which warmed his heart because that was his main concern as well. The ceremony was for everybody else to enjoy and celebrate with them and she was just happy of the fact that they would become husband and wife.
Or so she says. Though she wasn't exactly lying, she still wasn't entirely uninterested in the matter.
Now, his mother and Stella were very concerned about the wedding details. And he had understandably been avoiding them when the topic looked like it would shift to the wedding specifics. Considering the gradually nearing date, this was starting to happen much more frequently.
Helen, the sweet girl that she was, helped him distract them by expressing doubts about her dress or something.
‘We aren’t even married for real yet and she’s already helping me fight off my family. She’s a keeper, alright. I’m marrying that girl no matter what!’
In any case, he would abandon thoughts of that for now. He was to meet Gwen and Jiji to talk about the post he would be taking up shortly after his wedding.
The moment he entered the office he’d neglected for months, he was met with the sight of Gwendolyn serving Jiji tea as the latter leisurely sat on one of the sofas while stroking a white kitten on her lap—the same white kitten who was actually a young panther and who used to be Reivan’s spirit beast.
“Don’t boss Gwen around.” Reivan immediately scolded his little sister even as he walked to his desk. "She has better use for her time."
Jiji shrugged. “She offered. I merely accepted.”
“I see.” He nodded, sitting down and turning to Gwen instead. “Don’t spoil her, Gwen. Make a servant do it. We have many. You’re going to receive a very important post soon and it won’t do to have you serve anyone tea.”
“Understood.” The knight placed the teapot she’d been holding on the table and walked over to stand beside him. “I will rectify this before the position is officialized.”
Reivan then turned to the last remaining creature in the room, who was purring in his sister’s hands. Having nothing to say, he merely sighed. “Right. Well, let’s get on with it. What’s the damage? What am I going to be called now?”
Jiji snickered impishly, covering her mouth with a fan as her eyes squinted in schadenfreude. “Congratulations. On top of retaining your title as Prince Reivan, you will soon be granted the additional title of Hierarch.”
“Oh, god…” he lamented as he laid his head on the table in defeat. “Why can’t we just make it a republic again?”
Gwen tilted her head. “Are you asking seriously or…?”
Reivan waved his hand dismissively. “No, ignore that. And so? What is the nation I will soon be ruling be called?”
‘Fuck. I tried to escape the crown and it still caught up to me. Well, it’s a different one and I don't have to kill my siblings for it, but still.’
The post that his brother assigned to him—the eldest male royalty aside from the king or a former one—was to be the leader of an entirely new nation in what used to be the old republic.
A vassal nation or a protectorate, in other words.
Its purpose wasn’t to serve some kind of loophole in the Treaty of Alexander though, because there was no such thing. The goal of the new nation was to disconnect the kingdom and its reputation from whatever goes on in the protectorate.
As such, if the governance of the protectorate went south or suffered some monumental failure, the prestige of the royal family would escape too much damage.
Now, that sounded like a plot to have Reivan take the fall for something. And in one of those stories where the royal family hated each other’s guts, that would be true. But that wasn’t the case here. Reivan was going to receive sincere support from the kingdom, no doubt about that.
It was just a precaution. And it also enabled the kingdom to take more… drastic measures to discipline a potentially rebellious population.
‘Well, it’s not like it matters much to me.’
He was perfectly fine being the fall guy because he couldn’t care less what a world full of strangers thought of him. What mattered was how the people who mattered viewed him. His parents, his brothers and sisters, the rest of his extended family, his friends, and the other knights. Only their voices held relevance in his mind.
The others were just noise.
Of course, if the former Arkhanians behaved, they would be treated well. But the kingdom didn’t have a policy of treating disobedience with kindness. Though it treated its citizens well, the kingdom at its core was authoritarian after all.
Reivan looked at the extremely dependable Dame Gwendolyn and the annoyingly snickering sister of his, who was now feeding Sen some sort of fishy paste.
These two ladies would be his biggest helpers. After all, Ascendants and Transcendents weren’t allowed to meddle in mortal conflicts—which included the annexation of what used to be the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan. Well, part of it, at least.
Apparently, that would now include extra-territorial management and other non-combat roles such as logistics. This thankfully didn’t apply to mainland Aizen, however, but also exempted Argonia’s capital region.
Breaking the oath would both injure the Transcendent on their side and evict them from the signatories, and no side wanted that. The first consequence in particular.
The Treaty of Alexander made it so that only mortals could truly participate in the territory grab that would shake Sentorale. It would be to the extent that if Reivan ventured outside Aizen, he would refuse aid from an Ascendant knight even if he would die from it.
‘It’s a good thing we have plenty of talented mortals!’
The knights were teaming with capable warriors.
And if Aizen was really put on the back foot, they even had the peacekeepers to utilize. Though they didn't have soul armaments and weren't trained as extensively as knights, they were still a force to be reckoned with. They were numerous too. Their numbers far exceeded the knights.
Argonia could suck his nuts because he had Gwen on his roster too. And Jiji as well, he supposed. They would be the spine of his administration. And because they were strong individuals, there was a lowered risk of them getting assassinated. At the very least, their enemies would have to try much harder.
Truthfully, he was just a figurehead and these two would likely be doing most of the governing. Naturally, they would be helped by a carefully selected host of young ministers willing to serve overseas.
Local administrative talent would be procured to bolster the numbers though.
“The capital is going to be Lageton, I suppose?” Reivan raised a brow, voicing his own expectations. “It’s the closest to the kingdom. And its population would be the easiest to integrate into our rule because of frequent contact with our people.”
Gwen nodded. “That is the case, and I have already laid out some groundwork there.”
“You have?” Jiji tilted her head. “Since when?”
“Since news of the Sage King’s elimination reached me.”
Both Reivan and Jiji made noises of admiration. He then asked the question that popped into his mind. “The recruited battlemages?”
“Have been gathered in Lageton to bolster our forces in the colonization of Arkhan,” Gwen said. “The ones referred to as silver cloaks have been sent here, however.”
Reivan’s brows shot up. “They have?”
“Ah, I think I heard something to that effect,” Jiji muttered as she teasingly played with Sen using her tail, letting the excited kitten chase after the tip. “I think His Majesty’s going to make them take oaths of knighthood. Ascendants fulfill the minimum condition soul armaments ask for by default, after all.”
This time, it was Reivan and Gwen’s turn to be surprised.
‘That’s… Certainly efficient, but a big step.’
There was a weight to the title of “Knight” in the kingdom.
One’s very presence demanded both respect and awe the moment they became one. Plenty of little boys and girls trained as squires, sacrificing both their teens and their twenties just for a chance at joining the order—only to fail because they lacked the talent. Their last chance would be to serve as peacekeepers and get knighted when they Ascend, but the difficulty of such an endeavor was obvious to all.
Of course, this wasn’t just the kingdom being unnecessarily strict with who they grant knighthood to. Rather, it was a requirement to obtain a Soul Armament, the aspect that set aside a Knight from everyone else.
And to get one, a person had to have unlocked their qi before the age of thirty.
Ascendants, no matter the age they unlocked their qi, could bypass this rule though. Of course, they would still have to feel a certain level of intention to serve the crown for eternity—which should disqualify most of the silver cloaks from success.
But more than that, what mattered was the societal impact of inducting these foreign forces into the hallowed order of knighthood.
‘This is a pretty ambitious thing to do, dear brother of mine.’
Should the oath succeed, there would be no worries about the silver cloaks betraying national interests. Knightly oaths weren’t as flimsy as the ones used by the Tower. There were no loopholes and no way to violate them. You couldn’t even do it at the cost of your life because your body would literally refuse to take harmful actions against the crown.
Even though it was practical and the royal family extolled practicality when allowed—this was only when it was allowed.
Personally, Reivan wouldn’t have made the same decision if he were in Roland’s place. He had sparred extensively with squires and knights. Trained with them, too. His very lifestyle was a mimicry of how normal knights lived, modified to suit a member of royalty.
That was why he held enormous respect for anyone in this profession. It was hard enough even with his talent. Just how tough did ordinary aspirants have to live to finally get the chance at knighthood? Some squires who fail to unlock their qi on time even enter the peacekeepers with the very slim hope of becoming an Ascendant, becoming knights later on in life.
What right did a bunch of foreigners have to join their order?
They lived completely different lives and obtained power in completely different ways. And while that power wasn’t worthy of disdain, it was not worthy of this particular honor. He would stand by that opinion even at blade point. For sure, a lot of people—probably the vast majority of Aizen, even—would feel the same way.
‘This is a very dangerous move, brother…’
It had the possibility of turning public sentiment against the crown. Heck, the knights would probably go along with it too, but most of them wouldn’t like it. Reivan, naturally, wouldn’t try anything drastic like, say, stealing the throne or something. But he would still try his best to advise his brother against this.
‘Ah. Wait a minute. If Jiji knows this already, then she must’ve realized it too. Besides, Brother’s no idiot.’
As expected, there was a glint in his sister’s eye and even Gwen seemed to have very little reaction to the news.
Reivan realized that he had been overthinking. Turning to his sister, he grimaced as he demanded answers. “Go on. Spit it out. I’m sure he’s not just going to induct them into the knight order.”
Jiji giggled. “You’re right. But take a guess.”
Seeing no harm in a bit of brain exercise, Reivan leaned back and thought about it. The cogs in his mind turned, rustily, until a satisfying enough answer came to him.
‘The problem here is the title itself. Not that they’ll be granted Soul Armaments or swear the same oaths. Knights wouldn't refuse capable allies if it would advance the nation's interests. They'd love it, actaually.’
The solution that clicked into place in his head was simple. But oftentimes, simple problems were solved by simple solutions.
“They’re not going to be called Knights, are they?” Reivan stroked his chin. “Probably something else.”
“Well done, Your Excellency, Hierarch Reivan,” Jiji complimented with a teasing smile. “As a matter of fact, the success cases will be referred to as Spellswords. This will be for any knighted mage of any level. Now or in the future.”
“Don’t call me that…” he grumbled, but nodded. As he'd expected, his brother's head was still working well. With that out of the way, he inquired about something else he was curious about. “Is the old man still transporting the Sanctuary? It’s been two weeks already.”
Anything that took a Transcendent two whole weeks to do was a truly monstrous task. And moving the fragment of the spirit world called “The Sanctuary” that was responsible for supplying the Spirit Tower’s battlemages with spirit beasts was apparently one of them.
The Sword Star had sneakily hidden it away from the War God when Vel Ayala was sacked.
That wasn’t even all that Sir Rolf stole. The First Knight even snatched away the four floating islands surrounding the Spirit Tower and the Spirit Tower itself, transporting them all to Lageton. This was a lot easier than moving the Sanctuary, apparently.
‘The Four Magus Clans have agreed to defect to Aizen, huh…?’
But then again, if one of the Transcendents who killed the strongest person on your side offered a much more amicable way to survive, few would actually choose the death and eradication of their bloodline. The major clans definitely made the right call, though he couldn’t say that their spinelessness was admirable.
Back when he was still roleplaying as Clover Salwyn, Reivan didn’t get to have much contact with the four major clans that made up the majority of upper-rank battlemages. But it seemed that would change now.
They would be a vital force in the vassal nation because he would use any knights he was granted command of sparingly. Each knight was extremely valuable, after all.
‘So much to think about…’
Reivan never wanted the crown. Mostly because he didn’t want to fight family over it. But also because he didn’t think he was a good fit for the role of a ruler. Plus, he wasn’t even the legitimate heir, so he lacked the footing to stand on even if he did want to be king.
Truly, fate was a bitch sometimes.
He may not have wanted the crown. But a crown had still found its way on his head.
'Eh. Let's give it the ole' college try.'
Comments
The3rd
Infinite cookies are here 🍪♾️
Lire
Some of them are actually the unneeded advice of some friends/coworkers/or older male family. Even though I don't have anyone to marry, they keep giving me advice 😭😭😭
ThoMiCroN
The marriage advices for the groom are awesome.
