Chapter 545 - Not All Kings Are Equal

Aspen had long been heavily influenced by religion. This gave it good relations with the holy city-state, recognized as both a city and a nation, and access to its aid. Conversely, having to heed the temples left Aspen little freedom to act.

But was the Holy Nation its only problem? No. If that were all, Aspen's king could have accommodated it to a reasonable extent and still pursued his own aims. Religion was not the only obstacle.

Tracing its history back, the Principality of Aspen had begun with the title of duke. It was a nation founded with the Empire's permission.

A closer examination would suggest that the Empire had successfully tied a peerless hero to a piece of land. But that was a judgment made in hindsight. To those who lived in that age, Ruling Prince Aspen must have been a hero among heroes. A hero who founded a nation could hardly have been an ordinary great man.

Given those origins, naturally, Aspen had no particularly close ties to the Empire even now. It had quite literally been a case of offering land in exchange for peace. Thus, the Principality of Aspen was a principality in name only; in practice, it could be considered an independent kingdom.

At present, however, that was a difficult claim to make.

["Do you not wish to enjoy the Empire's favor?"]

The imperial envoy who visited each year supplied food to Aspen, where mountains covered most of the land and farmland was scarce. It was not price gouging. The Empire treated Aspen very reasonably, charging appropriate prices. Of course, paying for that food left Aspen hard-pressed to build up reserves of anything.

As the saying went, a portrait of a beauty was only complete once the eyes were painted in. One more nation completed the picture of foreign influence over Aspen: Rihinstetten, the great southern power.

Its role was the opposite of the Empire's. It bought metals and various other goods produced in Aspen. One was a buyer, the other a seller. The need to keep both happy made it difficult for Aspen even to establish trade with the trading city in the continent's southeast.

'A thoroughly goddamned situation.'

Argius Bona Aspen, the occupant of the throne known as the Man Chosen by God, was deeply dissatisfied with his circumstances.

'Must we remain a nation that can only survive by holding out its hand to someone?'

And not just one benefactor, but three?

The priests of Abundance resided in Aspen's royal castle and had even built their temple within it. They claimed the teachings of their god were necessary to keep the people at peace.

Those who lacked food always dreamed of abundance. Naturally, devout worshippers of Abundance made up the vast majority of Aspen's people. Yet while some priests believed sincerely and prayed for the people, others were so rotten they stank.

Could he expel them all? Not a chance. Kill a single priest, and objections would pour in from every quarter. Such was the king's position: he could not even put one junior priest to death as he pleased. It was one reason Argius wanted religion separated from government.

Why did the people of Aspen worship the God of Abundance in the first place? Because they lived in poverty.

'Is it right to use faith as an escape?'

The king knew that avoidance and escape offered only temporary relief, but he could not expect all his subjects to think as he did. He wanted to break free of their present circumstances. And the opportunity lay right before him.

'Green Pearl.'

Said to be the most fertile land on the continent, with every prospect of becoming a breadbasket, it lay just across the border. He only had to push a little southeast and expand the border slightly. Securing that breadbasket would allow him to find answers to every problem.

Of course, things never all went as planned, but it would certainly make a meaningful difference.

'We won't need the Empire's help, or to sell so much of our iron to the south. With full bellies, even those impoverished in spirit will turn to their god a little less.'

Then he could expel a few corrupt priests. In the end, all he needed was to make the people understand that their king had accomplished this for them. Their dependence on religion would lessen.

Argius had a dream. He had dreamed it for over ten years: to make his country a kingdom, not a principality. It was the dream of a cripple who wished to stand and walk alone, without anyone else's help.

Some who heard it called him a dreamer. Others shared his dream and followed him.

And he had failed.

Now, a young king more than ten years his junior stood before him spouting not merely fantasies, but sophistry. Insisting on the absurd.

"Why doesn't it make sense?"

"The very idea of erasing the Demonic Realms is absurd! And ending war? A land without conflict? Bringing the races together to fight as one? You think any of that makes sense?"

Argius felt a vein bulge in his forehead. Emotion spilled into his words. He wanted to ask whether the man understood what he was saying, why he was uttering such outrageous nonsense.

"Why can't it be done?"

"Isn't asking why itself absurd?"

"Have you tried?"

"... What?"

"I asked if you've tried."

If no one had traveled a road, did that mean it could not be walked? The king had once thought that himself. It was the very dream he had pursued: freedom from everyone's influence, standing on his own.

Everyone had called it impossible, a road no one could walk. But Argius had disagreed. To him, it was merely a road no one had yet taken.

"If no one has set foot in a land, does that mean no one can live there?"

The young king spoke the thoughts in his heart. Yet the two men differed in stature. Just as not all knights were equal, neither were all kings.

"Will you give up without even trying? Is that the dream you pursue? Then what did you hope for when you crossed Naurilia's border? Enkie, behead the king of Aspen. Muster the unit at once and kill every person living on Aspen's soil."

Krang's voice was quiet and measured, not loud. Only his manner of speaking had changed a little.

At his words, Jaxon glanced at Encrid. Wasn't he going to behead him? Encrid knew Krang did not mean it, so he merely watched.

Andrew, who had been listening to their conversation, felt he might lose his mind entirely.

The young man who had introduced himself as Illod put a hand on his sword hilt at Krang's words. The other two from Aspen involuntarily took a step back, while the Frog silently held his ground. The force behind the order to behead the king had made them all take it seriously.

"Is that truly what you want?" Krang asked.

Argius looked at the young king. Behind him lay the night sky, and behind him stood the knight who had halted an army. Argius knew that a single gesture from him could mean his death, yet all he could see now were Krang's eyes.

They shone brighter than the moon, brilliant enough to eclipse the stars. Nothing could shine more brightly than the eyes of a man who held a dream.

"Why did your policy of integrating the other races succeed? Wasn't it because you treated them like everyone else? Do share your secret," Krang continued.

He sounded utterly without ulterior motive. After only a few exchanges, Argius felt like gasping for breath. They had drained him that much.

Why had he grown angry enough for a vein to stand out on his forehead? Argius looked inward. What was making him so angry?

'The difference in our stature.'

He hated to admit it, but the other man's vision was greater and broader than his own.

"Why did you come all this way?"

Instead of shouting, Argius asked a question similar to his first. Earlier, he had asked why Krang had come when there might be troops concealed nearby. This time, he simply wanted to know his intentions.

"Does that matter?"

Krang smiled. Argius let out a hollow laugh.

Not all kings were equal. Argius felt the truth of those words in his bones. The man before him was of a different stature. He intended to erase the Demonic Realms and end war across the continent.

"How will you accomplish that?"

Argius asked again. He did not specify what, but his meaning was clear. How would he end the continent's wars? How would he deal with the Demonic Realms? And how could he eradicate the evil cults?

All three were absurd. Proposing even one would rightly be called outrageous.

Argius should have been mindful of the priest who had accompanied him, and of the Ekkins woman acting at the south's behest. But he forgot them. For now, he heard only the man before him.

Krang smiled again. Had someone said that smile held an enchantment, Argius would readily have agreed. Against the backdrop of the night sky, the king with that bewitching power spoke.

"Help me work that out."

"... Ha. Hahaha."

What began as an incredulous laugh became wholehearted laughter as Argius threw back his head. He laughed so hard that tears pricked his eyes.

Had this bastard simply declared he would do it, without any idea how? Was he a man of grand ambition, or a child who knew nothing of the world? Normally, he would have been the latter. Yet this was Naurilia's king, the man who had inherited the throne by ending its civil war. He could hardly dismiss such a man as a child.

'Now I see.'

Argius recalled the retainers who had opposed him when he proposed standing on their own.

'A dreamer, was I?'

Compared with him, the man before him was a mad bastard dreaming with his eyes wide open.

But...

'I've lost.'

Not one of the subjects he had anticipated had come up. Naurilia's king had pressed him on none of his concerns. He had merely shown the difference in their stature.

"You need a breadbasket. You must want to free yourself from the Empire and the south, and you have religious problems as well."

'And he seems rather clever, too.'

Argius said nothing, merely listening to Krang.

"I cannot give you all the land. Instead, let's join them like this. That will secure your farmland."

Krang brought his hands together side by side as he spoke.

'One could easily call this another delusion,' Argius thought.

Krang was proposing that they join their borders. Whether as allies or something else, they would stop fighting altogether, divide the farmland, and share its produce. With the whole of Green Pearl originally serving as the border between them, that was easy to say. But only easy to say.

What of their history of repeated wars? The hostility accumulated along the way? Very well. Neither side had ever fought a battle that wiped out an entire city, so suppose they could put that behind them.

'Would the Empire and the great southern power simply stand by?'

Krang spoke as though he had been waiting for the question.

"If anyone else objects, well, use my friend here as your excuse. Tell them there's a knight order capable of cutting down an entire city in Aspen, and with its sword at your throat, you can't possibly attack."

As he spoke, Krang pointed behind him with his thumb. Naturally, it was aimed at Encrid. Encrid had no objection and gave a casual nod.

"Your retainer?"

"My friend."

Encrid remained composed even as his king called him a friend before another monarch. Watching him, Argius wondered about their relationship. Of course, that hardly mattered now.

"Can you afford that? You're at war with the south. They won't sit idle."

"I'm not the one who does the fighting, but yes. Those who defend my country, those who share my dream, will defend it together."

"I see."

All the strength seemed to have left Argius's voice. Yet his eyes had begun to shine. They were no longer guarded and defensive as they had been at first. Nor did they speak of frustration and despair.

Krang's next words stirred his mind as well.

"You cannot fight because of the threat, but you've graciously been granted farmland. Surely you can say you have no choice, since the God of Abundance would never permit you to leave available land unused?"

A child? What utter fucking nonsense.

A rabbit living in a cave could not understand its fellows who lived outside. Why live out there in danger? Couldn't they survive on the grass growing inside the cave? He simply had not seen beyond it.

The man before him was not merely asking him to be his friend or share his dream. He was clever, too. He understood Argius's situation precisely and identified it. Moreover, his commanding, impassioned speech had silenced even those standing behind Argius, who would otherwise have voiced their own positions.

Everyone encountered a moment that changed their life. For Encrid, it had been a remark from a third-rate mercenary swordsman.

["You're a genius."]

And a line from a Bard's song.

The knight who would end the war, the knight who brings war to an end.

Now Aspen's king was experiencing something similar. Krang smiled and spoke again.

"What do you fear? Death? Failure? If neither, why not dream with me?"

A method? None.

An alternative? None.

But there was a dream.

Krang was a dreamer, yet Argius wanted to reach out toward that dream. What must he do first?

Though intoxicated by the young king's words, he first needed to look at the man who had enabled this king to speak them. The man who alone stood composed while everyone else was bewildered or swept away.

His name was Encrid, the Iron Wall Knight. The man who had made this meeting possible.

The gratitude Illod Hurrier had offered him at the outset was something Argius himself, as king, should have expressed first. Illod had merely done it in his place to preserve his pride and what little dignity the kingdom could retain. Argius had not asked for Encrid to attend the meeting without reason.

Now that his eyes were truly open, was it not right to thank the man who had spared his people, his kingdom, from shedding their blood?

Freed from his delusions, the king laughed aloud and rose.

"What should I call you?"

"Krang."

"I'm Argius. Before it's too late, there's something I'd like to do first. Would you mind?"

Not something he must do, but something he wished to do. As a king who understood how a single word could alter meaning, he had chosen correctly.

"As you please."

At Krang's reply, Aspen's king turned to Encrid.

"My thanks are overdue. Sir Encrid, the Iron Wall Knight. Because of what you did, wives who would have spent their nights weeping have been spared those tears. Children who nearly lost their fathers and mothers can smile. Elderly parents who sent their children away can breathe sighs of relief. For that, I offer you my gratitude."

The king bowed his head. It was a gesture of respect, an acknowledgment that he had not forgotten: this meeting was only possible because a peerless hero had stood in an army's path.