Book 9, 86
Book 9, 86
Cut Through
Apeiron wouldn’t agree with Richard’s reasoning, but he smiled and shook his head, “Alright, think of it this way. I’ve walked through tens of thousands of lives in the past few days, and every time my perspective changes ever so slightly. In a way, I gain a deeper understanding of the laws of the world.”
“You can understand laws this way?” Julian asked with disbelief.
“Mm. Only a little at a time, but it adds up quickly. But the real value isn’t in that; I believe it’s the strengthened will.”
Julian frowned, but he swallowed his question of what use is there. Apeiron remained silent, lost in her own thoughts.
Richard didn’t hurry either, calmly wiping out half the dragon rib in front of him before asking, “How’s the Land of Dusk?”
“Hasting defeated another fortress, but with the current situation, I don’t believe he’ll last longer than two or three more.”
Richard disagreed, “No. He’s done at this point.”
“Hmm? Why?”
“Because the Daxdians have their own trump cards too. I saw the devilfish all those years ago in the Land of Dusk, and that was mass-produced like these saint drones. They have to have made some breakthroughs in the years since.”
“Hmm... In that case, Julian. Go to the Land of Dusk tomorrow and observe Hasting. Kill him the moment he’s defeated, and bring me his head.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty!” Julian bowed, flashing a ruthless smile.
However, Richard who was cutting into another steak shook his head, “No need. If he’ll fight seriously to his last moment, then he’s making a contribution to Norland. Let him be.”
“But he’s a Scholar.”
“A Scholar-adjacent, if that. It’s fine to spare him; I’ll take care of Soremburg one day.”
“If that’s what you want, but he should know what to do next if he’s smart enough. Anyway, what are your plans?”
“I’m heading to Lithgalen to find the route the elves took to reach Arbidis. It’ll take decades if I go explore the abyss myself.”
“Tell me when you’re heading to Arbidis; I’m coming along.”
“Nope,” Richard immediately rejected her, “What about the Sacred Alliance? There won’t be anyone to oversee this place.”
“I don’t give a fuck, I just want Sharon back!” Apeiron snarled.
“But it’s not like you’ll be too useful anyway!”
“The abyss is a land of chaos, it’s my strong suit!”
“And what happens when you actually take a hit? You’ll die immediately, and I can’t save you all the time!” Richard said, looking her up and down. Apeiron was left speechless at this declaration as well, unable to refute his point. Just like during her battle against him, her physical resilience left a lot to be desired.
Seeing her hesitation, Richard softened his tone to mollify her, “How about this. Let’s discuss things again before I leave. For now, I need to settle some things before I go to Lithgalen. Namely territory.”
He formed a holographic map of Norland out of thin air, “We Archerons barely have any territory in our name. It’s not just about the resources, there isn’t enough land for the family to develop. I need to get everyone to a point where they can progress for at least a few centuries without me.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” the Empress replied, “It’ll be more difficult to defend a vast territory.”
“Won’t be too bad in the near future. Alice will still live another century at least, and I’ll push it to three. With her around, there shouldn’t be any major losses in battle. As for powerhouses, my daughter should be able to hold her own.”
Apeiron nodded, “As long as I’m alive, I won’t let anything happened.”
“You?” Richard laughed, shaking his head, “With your personality, there’s no chance you’ll outlast me.”
“Are you looking down on me? Want to have another go?”
Richard smiled and shook again, “I’d rather leave you with at least some of your pride.”
“You ba—” Apeiron’s growl was interrupted by a cough from Julian, her fury slowly fading even as the impulse to punch Richard remained. She settled down to discuss the new division of territory, giving him everything within a hundred kilometres of the Deepblue as well as a thousand-kilometre stretch along Floe Bay that connected it to Azan. Most of the land taken away came from the Mensas, Schumpeters, and Josephs, with only a third being pulled from various small nobles.
Of course, Richard wasn’t done with just that. He took two strategic earldoms flanking Azan from the Millennial Empire, and about two dukedoms’ worth of land from the Sacred Tree. Solam’s lands were halved, with the most fertile sections being taken away.
“That’s all?” Apeiron frowned as he marked his new territory on the map.
“It’s enough,” Richard smiled.
“Alright, you do you. Julian, take notes and send notifications to the relevant countries and nobles. Tell them there isn’t any room for negotiation.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
After Julian left, Richard finished his own meal and gave Apeiron a soft hug before leaving the dining hall.
......
Many powerful nobles trembled over the next few days, barely able to believe their eyes at the notice from the Sacred Alliance. Only the Millennial Empire remained peaceful, Prince Tumen dismissing all concerns with a smile as he transferred the two earls to barren lands on the frontier, “Looks like Richard appreciates our help.”
In the Sacred Alliance, countless nobles argued the change in the Assembly. The debate wasn’t about how much land the Archerons should get, but just what duties they would take on afterwards. A combined area of over 500,000 square kilometres was enough to establish a small kingdoms, completely obsoleting Richard’s title as a duke. However, with the Empress still formally in charge of the Sacred Alliance, they couldn’t just upgrade him to a monarch either. Many started discussing just what sort of title would be fitting of the Archerons’ unparalleled status; if Richard adopted someone’s suggestions, that would be a small bond.
Those families whose territories had been broken up could only follow through with procedure silently, trying their best to maintain order. No one dared to make a move against the Archerons at this point.
......
The country with the strongest response was naturally the Sacred Tree Empire. The Emperor and his cabinet debated the matter fiercely; the northern dukes resolutely opposed the proposed division and wanted to use the entire imperial army to destroy the Archerons, but the south refused to support with troops or even finances. On the other hand, the Church had no representation here at all; while Archbishop Hendrick had announced his withdrawal long ago, even the Pope wouldn’t pretend like anything could be accomplished here. The North’s only hope lay with the haggard Emperor who hadn’t slept since he received the notice.
Enraged as he was by Richard’s decision, the Emperor had to consider the long term before anything else. The two dukedoms lost today could be regained at another time, but his entire country had fallen apart in their war against Richard. It had started with the Church, but now that the civil war had come to an end he realised that their dependance left them with no room to make decisions on their own.
The debate was still in progress, the country most resentful of the fact that even having fought the Millennial Empire a few times Richard had only taken a token two earldoms away from them. The northern dukes especially couldn’t palate the difference.
It took a draining few days that left the Emperor and his cabinet haggard before they even approached a conclusion. Seven days in, the Minister of War stood up to speak, “I feel like we have said everything that needs to be communicated. Richard is already an epic being, and according to convention he has the right to found his own country. He naturally needs territory for that—”
“Nonsense, he isn’t even level 25!” a northern duke slammed the table, “Is self-proclamation also counted now?”
The head of the southern faction sneered, “Do you think someone without epic strength could have defeated the reapers? You would have died in one day.”
“You dare look down on my troops?”
“Oh, absolutely not. Your soldiers are so powerful, 400,000 of them managing to destroy Blackrose— oh, wait. Only a few thousand returned, and you didn’t even face 50,000 enemies.”
“ENOUGH!” The Emperor pounded his table, stopping the bickering dukes, “Whoever doubts Richard’s strength, feel free to go to war against him, or even fight him one-on-one. I’ll be awaiting the results!”
The furious man sprayed spittle everywhere in his rage, the dukes stunned by his sudden violence. However, they kept quiet as he slammed a new letter on the table. “Look for yourselves!” he grumbled, watching his subordinates all shiver as they passed it amongst themselves, “Do you understand? They do not fear war, they welcome it!”
This document was the final letter from the Sacred Alliance, stating that it had already been a week and there would only be three more days before a declaration of war from Richard’s end. There was also a blatant threat within; if Richard was forced to fight for his rightful lands, he wouldn’t care about the safety of enemy generals or hold people for ransom.