Chapter 140: Emperor’s Arrival
And while everyone was busy arguing, complaining, and debating, while only a few were attending to the recovery of Austerra, various noble households began demanding answers.
They came to ask for help in searching for their missing family lords and the armies that were supposed to protect Austerra, yet not a single one of them could provide a clue as to where those men had gone.
"What do you mean the duke is missing?" one noble spat, face pale with disbelief.
"Are you serious? Even their private armies have gone missing? Where could they have gone?" another shouted, voice cracking with panic.
"Do you think I would be asking you if I knew the answer?" the representative of House Branth seethed, his lips trembling as his voice rose.
The fury of the nobles echoed across the plaza, but their anger was futile, empty cries against the silence of unanswered questions.
Not a single soul in Austerra knew that the missing leaders of the houses, along with the majority of their armies, had been whisked away by Bonbon’s magic and teleported into the dead heart of the Desert, where even the wind carried death.
While the people of Austerra tried to connect the missing pieces, confusion deepening into fear, a sudden massive portal tore open the sky with a crack of mana and blinding light.
A rift as tall as the palace walls shimmered with arcs of blue lightning. Out of it thundered the beating wings of dragons.
No, not dragons, but Wyverns, sleek and armored, with riders upon their backs. About three full battalions of Wyvern Riders burst out from the gate and immediately fanned across the skies, spreading formation like shards of steel.
Their shadows swept over the ruined kingdom as they soared toward their designated points, securing regions across hundreds of kilometers in a matter of moments.
The crowd gasped as one.
"Huh!?"
"It’s the Imperial Army!"
"They finally arrived... after the calamity is already over."
"I heard they were fighting hard against the Orcish Empire at the Tabogo Towers. That must have delayed them."
But instead of relief, the people of Austerra felt only a heavier bitterness. The sight of the Imperial banners whipping in the wind brought no comfort, only frustration and anger.
By the time their supposed saviors had arrived, the kingdom was already in ruins, its streets charred and broken, its towers half-collapsed, its citizens scarred with grief.
"Actually, it is honestly impressive for them to reach Austerra within twelve hours," one merchant muttered, half trying to defend them.
"I recall it takes at least two weeks of travel by horse to reach the Imperial capital."
"It’s thanks to that massive portal," another added, eyes narrowing at the energy still sparking in the air.
"But do you even know how much mana and resources it takes to open something like this? That cost alone could feed a city for years."
The Wyvern Riders circled higher, their lances glinting in the fading sunlight as their keen eyes swept across the land.
Once they secured the skies, armored knights began pouring from the shimmering gate, their boots striking the cobblestone like war drums. They spread into formation, pushing back civilians and forming a wide corridor.
Behind them came the Imperial mages, their robes lined with enchanted threads that shimmered faintly.
They erected barriers and wards as if claiming Austerra under their protective domain. Finally, regiment after regiment of foot soldiers marched forth, shields aligned, spears glistening.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Their presence was overwhelming.
Their armors shone as though forged yesterday, polished to a blinding sheen, gleaming with enchantments beyond the wildest imaginations of Austerra’s smiths.
"Truly the strongest army of the Empire," one survivor whispered, eyes wide, voice laced with awe.
"True. I scanned them with appraisal. The lowest level I saw was forty-nine."
"What?" someone hissed. "Level forty-nine would already qualify as a Knight Commander here in Austerra, yet to them it is just another soldier on horseback?"
"Man, I wish they had come sooner," another muttered, grief dripping in his tone. "If they had arrived earlier, maybe they could have saved Austerra before it burned."
The long procession continued, almost ceremonial. Then four figures emerged, their presence so sharp it cut through the clamor of the people.
They looked like the Hero’s Party, legends reborn in flesh: a beautiful female archer with silver hair flowing behind her cloak, a towering knight carrying a massive shield, a slender mage in robes lined with radiant inscriptions, and a rogue who moved with the silence of shadow.
Their aura was unmistakable. They were not common warriors, but champions.
And then, silence fell.
From the heart of the portal stepped a man unlike any other. The very air seemed to bend as he walked. His armor was heavier, darker, stronger than any knight’s.
His presence alone pressed on the chest like an invisible weight.
A Blood-Red sword rested upon his back, its blade humming faintly as though thirsting for blood. His gray hair was combed back, streaked with silver, framing deep blue eyes that seemed to pierce into the marrow of those who dared to meet his gaze.
His stature was so tall and broad that he looked like a giant striding into the world of men. Muscles rippled beneath the steel, every step releasing a pressure that made the ground itself tremble.
A crown of rare gems and Arcanium rested upon his head, its glow soft yet terrifying. A golden cape trailed behind him, embroidered with the emblem of the Wha-lah Empire.
"I... it’s..."
Even the women forgot their grief.
They forgot their complaints, their hatred, even their fear. One look from him, one heartbeat under that crushing presence, and breath fled their lungs. They were starstruck.
An Imperial envoy stepped forward, voice booming with authority.
"Everyone bow down and show your respect for Emperor Romeov!"
The crowd dropped to their knees, silence falling as heavy as stone.
Meanwhile, Emperor Romeov closed his eyes and mumbled to himself.
"Where is he?"
A mysterious voice responded in his mind,
’Southeast, three and a half kilometers away on a mansion owned by the Katana household.’
Turns out he had known already about Auren and he had his own plans for him.
...
Meanwhile, far from the ruined capital, in a quiet manor tucked beyond the hills, Auren’s eyes fluttered open.
His lashes trembled against his pale cheeks. The scent of herbs lingered in the air, and faint sunlight spilled through the open window, catching in the dust.
Beside his bed, Robert sat slumped in a chair. The moment he saw Auren’s fingers twitch, his tired eyes widened and his face brightened with relief.
"Ugh..."
"You are finally awake!" Robert’s voice cracked with joy as he rushed to his side. "How are you feeling, my son?"
His calloused hands immediately pressed to Auren’s forehead, checking for fever, for pain, for anything wrong.
The skin felt normal, only faint traces of mana shock lingered across his veins, glowing faintly like scars of light.
"H-how long have I been asleep this time?" Auren rasped, voice hoarse. He expected years, maybe months at the least.
"It’s only been about ten hours," Robert replied, smiling proudly.
Auren blinked, stunned.
"Ten hours? Not ten years?"