EPISODE 134: LANCE
— GREAT EDRYAN, YEAR 7291. SEASON: COLOR FADING.
I watched the four students leave, my eyes trailing Simra as she was the last to exit. I placed a hand on my chin in contemplation. I wanted to speak with both her and Karla more privately, but Luke and Zie were unfamiliar with me as much as the two of them. I could see that Simra was distracted the entire meeting, and I wondered what was on her mind. It was a bit awkward between us, and I wasn’t sure why.
My sight turned back to the outside and I gazed down on the bustling Edryan’s moving to and fro. Eventually, one of my knights stepped forward and spoke.
“Your Highness Lawruthian, the time…”
I sighed. I had a strict schedule to follow today. The Ancestral Remembrance ceremony had already begun—it would be led by my mother this time, but I’d still needed to show my face.
“Let’s go.”
***
We moved through the palace grounds swiftly. The Royal Staff and others, who resided in the War Throne Palace, moved out our way. Down…, down, we descended, moving through multiple levels of the palace until we neared its rear.
My pace was quick, my natural gait was enhanced by Endurance, which let me step once for what was once three steps. My guards nearly jogged to keep up, two moving ahead to clear the way and announce my presence, the other two close behind sending suspicious glances this way and that. There were countless unfamiliar faces passing through the War Throne Palace. Since my return to Edrya and my reunion with the members of my Imperius Army, my [Imperius Knights] hadn’t let up in my protection. There were four guards for now, but once the summit ended, I would be expanding their numbers. The Class of 7291 was graduating shortly and there were some prime members to choose from.
My pace only halted once we arrived at the entrance to the dungeons. I paused for simple identification and verification before moving onward. We descended level after level until the temperature began to rise and low steam and mist settled over the floor. The dungeon’s air was stale, but occasionally a [Wind Mage] alongside a patrolling ground of guards would sweep past. The magic of the mage renewed the stale air. There was no ventilation in the dungeon, not out of a lack of capability to provide it, but security. There were many forms of magic and allowing little to no access to the outside in any way possible was what kept those imprisoned trapped until their execution.
One way in… one way out.
The patrols became more frequent the deeper we went, and the temperature continued to rise. Alongside the increase in patrols came an increase in levels, as stronger and stronger guards began to appear. I waved over a pair of guards, [Wardens], who held the keys to the cell I wished to access. They followed me with little hesitation, my identity was already verified and information passed to them.
We stopped at a well-lit, well-guarded corridor that was much nicer than most of the dungeon levels we passed. Every ten steps was a guard no weaker than level two hundred, and at the very end of the corridor were two powerful [Shackle Wardens] in heavy armor with massive glades. We weren’t quite at the bottom of the dungeon where the most dangerous prisoners were kept, but we were close enough.
Before us was a large solid steel door that held no openings for those within or out to see from. Two keyholes were placed on opposite sides of the massive gate and marked themselves as the only blemish on the smooth door.
“ Open the gate, ” I commanded.
The two [Wardens] moved forward and inserted a cross-shaped key into their respective holes. Their eyes locked with one another as they twisted the keys concurrently—mana expelling as their signatures were tied to the door. It was a genius system as these guards were stationed far away. An intruder may think the two heavily armored [Shackle Wardens], who held keys of their own, would be able to open the gate. Should they have attempted to use those keys, then a nasty trap would have killed them.
Slowly, as a precautionary measure, the gate rose—its interior dark and hidden. It took several minutes for it to fully rise and allow passage. “Don’t close it, we’ll be out shortly. [Shackle Wardens] let's go.”
The moment the process finished, I stepped forward and into the darkness. The [Shackle Wardens] and [Imperius Knights] closely followed, their weapons drawn. I rolled my eyes but continued down the dark hallway.
The deeper into the passage we walked, the lighter it became until it was nearly blinding white light. We entered a room that showed nothing but white, at its center sat a woman shackled to the ground. She held short blonde hair with streaks of magma red within. It was no longer the short military fade, as her hair had grown during her imprisonment. Large shackles covered her arms but halted right before her biceps.
“(Inspect),” I said. My voice caused the sleeping woman to stir.
SHACKLED: Laura Lance – Level 250: Edryan Vanguard General
Laura Lance twitched in annoyance, but her eyes remained closed and her breathing soft. I’d expected the (Inspect) to wake her, as I knew the feeling it left. It felt like your entire body was seen through. However, either she was too deeply asleep, faking it, or just didn’t care. Regardless, it didn’t matter.
I moved forward—raising my hand for silence at the protest of Tobi and my [Imperius Knights]. Laura was shackled, both her attributes were suppressed until a newly minted level one could kill her, and her mana was constantly being drained. I didn’t stop until I was well within her personal space, instead like her, I sat cross-legged—our knees barely touching. I studied her as I sat across from her, Laura Lance was nearly two hundred years old and grew up in a time my grandfather was still King. A time that directly experienced the after-effects of the death of my great-grandmother, Princess Carina. She chose to serve under my mother much later than most of her cohort, a decision that seemed strange knowing the Lance’s loyalty to the Edryani. Perhaps it was due to that loyalty they hesitated under her leadership as both my uncles held rights to the throne. Perhaps she was unaware they’d been heavily influenced by the Sin of Greed —no matter, that was in the past. The decision of what would happen to the [Gate Protector] and the [West Gate Army] was left to me. My mother did not take their failure well. In truth, both her and her men should be dead. My thoughts drifted to the meeting I held with my mother and her words then—as they drifted… I spoke words I knew would receive a reaction from Laura Lance.
“Have you ever killed a man?”
----------------------------------------
My mother’s red-gold eyes stared at me intensely. There was a cold, indifferent look on her face that appeared the moment I mentioned the general. I let out an internal sigh and repeated my words.
“Spare Laura Lance. Reinstate her as the [West Gate General].”
“Spare her,” my mother sneered. “After she failed to keep you safe?”
She scoffed and returned her attention to the documents she overviewed. The summit was fast approaching and there were many things, she and I needed to oversee to ensure it went as planned.
“General Laura is not fully at fault for what occurred in the valley,” I argued. “My actions, the things I did… the Demigoddess of Illusions — Kubrat, they were all unexpected things that contributed, but in truth, my disappearance was no one’s fault other than my own.”
My mother stamped a document before moving onto the next. She remained quiet as she did so, only the sounds of pages flipping were heard in her study, that and the crackling of firewood. The moment she finished with one pile, she pushed them to the side and looked at me. She stood, walked around her desk and hugged me, which I promptly returned. The moment she pulled back, she gestured to the couch near a blazing fireplace. It was archaic, seeing as magi-humans possessed the magi-tech to ward a room and control its temperature, but to her, it reminded her of the campfire nights spent under the night sky. Many times, she slept in the wilderness of Edryan during her escape and quest to become strong enough to secure the Edryan crown—to secure the medallion that represented her divine right to rule.
“Sit, and let me tell you what it means to be King. What it means to walk this path, it is one thing your tutors could never teach you as they do not hold the unique perspective we do. I did not give you a choice, but you must walk the Path of King, just as I walk the Path of Queen,” she began. The fire cast a red-orange light on her face, and her eyes of indifference soften.
“Before that… tell me… my favorite son, what do you think a good ruler should do, should be like—tell me what your ideal leader is like.”
“What my ideal leader is like…,” I repeated to myself. The answer came to me immediately—it was something I thought about constantly.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“ Strong. They have to be strong enough to represent themselves and the people they lead. Not just a physical strength, but a mental one. They have to be able to do the tough decision when no one else is capable of it.”
The Queen nodded, smiling, and gestured for me to continue.
“ Charismatic. A leader should know how to have fun and not be stiff. They are a representative of those they lead, and they should be able to make friends and allies easily. They need to speak clearly, dress the part, and if they can get a laugh or two out of you, then I think well of them. That isn’t to say they can’t be serious, but they must have charm.”
Her eyes lit up at my words, and she smiled, nodding in agreement.
“ Responsible. My ideal leader must have responsibility for themselves and those they govern. It is their job to ensure that those they lead are prosperous, can achieve their goals, and are hopeful for the future to come. When they fail, they must take responsibility just as much as they do when they succeed.”
I paused here, there was more I could say, but I believed those three were enough for my mother to get an idea of what my ideal leader is like.
“Well spoken, well said,” she said, smiling—her gaze locked into mine, her smile disappearing as she adopted a serious expression. “A leader must possess all those qualities and more. YOU… possess all those qualities and more. Now, let me ask you… What Makes A Good Follower? ”
The atmosphere of the room changed. The crackling fire dwindled just a degree and the light it radiated seemed to dim. My mother sat comfortably with her legs crossed, but that didn’t diminish her presence. Perhaps it was the power of her law, as she began to exercise more of her might as a demigoddess, but the world seemed to hold its breath as she voiced her question.
“What makes a good follower…,” I repeated to myself.
It was something I could honestly say I’d never once thought about. Since my birth into the Edryan Queendom, I understood one day I would be king. I held an ideal of whom, what, and how I wished to be king. Those ideals I said earlier were based on that vision of myself— but I never once asked myself what made a good follower.
“I… don’t know. ”
My mother’s smile returned. If this was a chess game, then she just placed me in check.
“Now, I will explain to you the Path of a Ruler. King, Queen, your title doesn’t matter for we all walk this path. We each hold responsibilities that differ from one another. A King’s job is to guide his people and ensure they are prosperous. They are to allocate resources, both men and goods, to the right areas and keep them prosperous. They are to play the hearts of men against one another for we all desire for more, sometimes that more is far above our station and reach. It is the King’s job to both reward and punish , to remain impartial in their judgement. It is the follower's job to enact their King’s orders—to protect them and ensure their word, their Honor, remains valid. That is the core of who we are and why the people trust us. I am beloved in Edryan for the protection I cast, and the people I freed. I am not the smartest, dumbest, nor am I the most responsible leader. I am strong, but my charisma pales in comparison to you. If there is one thing I truly excel at, it is allocating resources—especially during my time in freeing Edryan. That skill has dulled due to the peaceful time and the whispers of my minsters, and closet allies.”
She paused her, and held a hand in the air. A wine glass filled to the brim appeared in her hand—placed by a shadow. She took a long drink and gestured to the table. Moments later half a dozen LSG snacks were placed. She hummed merrily as she selected a few of her favorites while leaving the rest for me. Once we finished, she continued.
“Laura Lance is not a good follower. This is not the first time she has failed in a task for me— BUT, this time she failed one far too vital. She failed to protect you. She failed to enact my orders, instead she lusted after the trill of levels. Tell me Lawruthian… has your leveling slowed?”
I pursed my lips but nodded. When the Prime System first activated for me, I gained levels incredibly fast. It nearly seemed like any small task I did would provide a level. With those gains came the feeling of leveling up. If I could describe it, then it was ecstasy of the highest order…, in its purest form. It felt wonderful to level up and assign attribute points. It reminded me of the days I went to the gym with Brock and Celina… when I felt my body growing stronger and healthier—it was an incredible feeling.
“It will continue to do so. We [Seven Heroes] were only able to reach our heights through the slaughter of strong foes. Killing humans is the best way to retain all the experience from battle—for we use the experience of the same type. You will level much faster in the slaughter of men than any other being. Laura Lance was tasked to protect you, yet she chose the thrill of the hunt, to chase that feeling of leveling. She failed to protect you. ”
My mother stood, time was wasting and we both held responsibilities to see too. I stood with her, I already understood what my mother was getting at. Both a leader and a follower held responsibilities and obligations they were beholden to. Laura Lance failed in her duties, a task she couldn’t— shouldn’t —have neglected. I still wanted to save her.
“Laura Lance has failed me and that was the last time. She Failed To Protect You. YET… if you wish to give her and her men an opportunity to redeem themselves, then it is well within your right as the Crown Prince of Edryan. I, however, cannot. ”
Laura Lance’s magma red-orange eyes snapped open, their light blazing within the room and pushing away the white until only red-orange remained. There was no rage within them or any other emotion of the sort. Only a calm… acceptance.
----------------------------------------
“Yes.”
Her voice was raspy, like she hadn't drunk water in days—perhaps weeks. That did not diminish the strength it held. The body of a high leveler was increasingly… not mortal… not human. That didn’t stop her from continuing.
“The first was when I was just sixteen years old. My father took me to the dungeons under Lancelot and made me slit the throat of a thief. I grew angry at him, the thief, not my father—for it was his lack of skill that brought him before me. It was his lack of strength which allowed the guards of my city to catch him. He was but a boy, no older than nineteen. I still remember his plea for mercy.”
Laura didn’t blink as she spoke, her eyes locked into mine as she talked. She began to describe the act and how it made her feel. I listened, not interrupting until she paused.
“I am here to free you, Laura Lance.”
This time I received more than just the calm emotion Laura previously displayed. She smirked, a callous thing that showed exactly what she thought of that.
“Do you remember what I said to you after you killed the launderer?”
I did… but I stayed silent—hesitant. I could not forget that day, not even if I wanted to. It was the first time I took a life in cold blood, not in the defense of myself or another. It was the first time I murdered.
Laura spoke, sensing my hesitating.
“ Judgement is impartial. It is NOT —the crown’s responsibility to sway its hands when judgement comes. I failed in my task Lawruthian—thus… I… Must… Be… Judged. ”