In a Throne Room Across the Ocean

Alistair Nightshade feels nothing but honor as he kneels in the Grand Throne Room of the Kingdom of the Fallen’s Royal Capital in front of his king alongside dozens of other Fallen. His black wings are tucked behind him as he keeps his head low with his arm held at chest level in front of him in the usual manner of respect towards the king.

And out of the corner of his eyes, he proudly notes all of his fellow Royal Guardsmen mimicking this very pose, simply waiting for their Monarch to speak. Their Emperor.

After several seconds of silence with nothing but the tapping sound of the Emperor’s armored finger repeatedly hitting the throne he’s on, the man’s voice finally resounds throughout the grand hall, “You may lift your heads.”

Alistair along with all of the other Royal Guardsmen lift their heads to gaze upon the Emperor in all of his glory. The man has two wings reminiscent of an eagles, just like the Angels, but with a pitch black color instead of the Angel’s pure white. He’s wearing a set of all black armor that is a cross between ceremonial and practical and has pitch black eyes with finely pointed ears and a sharp look on his face as he looks out over the guardsmen, his aura lazily glazing over each and every one of them.

“The time has finally come to move overseas and take a portion of the land southwards,” the Emperor declares, making a noticeable wave of excitement flow through the auras of each and every Tier 5 Royal Guard here. But none of them make so much as a peep, keeping to their silence. “The Angels have pushed us too far in the taking of our eastern dungeon, The Ravine, and we are in need of a new one. And my Prime Minister advises me that we are also in need of a connection to the nations across the seas. Whether good or bad.”

None of the guards make a sound, simply letting their liege continue speaking, “In the end, we have decided upon a newly settled nation across the waters to annex. Should they prove willing, the ruler of that nation will be granted a noble title and given land amidst their own nation.” The Emperor’s eyes narrow slightly. “But should he refuse, then the Kingdom of the Fallen will be going to war with that backwater nation of Wolfdenn.”

Alistair feels more than a little malice from the auras of the other guards, and even himself, at the mention of a backwater, newly created nation refusing the offer of one of the greatest kingdoms of all time. One led and created by the Fallen. A superior species amongst the Demonic Races.

“Some of you might ask why it was decided to take over this newly created nation, and others will likely not care,” the Emperor continues while standing up from his throne, the man’s wings spreading out to either side of him as his eyes flash with a black light. “The reason is plain and simple.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“The nation of Wolfdenn has a dungeon originating from the Void.”

For the first time since this royal summoning, some murmurs begin spreading amongst the court officials on the edges of the room and even the guards at Alistair’s side. Alistair on the other hand feels a hint of glee at the idea of a void element dungeon core.

A dungeon core that could very well challenge his warriors. One that could offer them a fight. And offer them rewards never before seen in the lands of Midgard.

Like void element weapons.

“We do however have one problem in our path,” the Emperor continues again, making the throne room grow silent. “The founder of this nation is also the son of the Emperor of the Raizel Empire and is in a trade alliance with more than one nation. Which may very well give Wolfdenn the courage it needs to stand against us.”

No one says anything in response. No one needs to. Because absolute rage can be felt from the aura of every single person in the room at the mere idea of a nation refusing the Kingdom’s gracious offer of annexation.

If this happens, I swear I will tear the throat out of this ‘leader of Wolfdenn’ myself!

“To add onto matters, the Empire of Eternal Night has an embassy in Wolfmoore’s capital, so we must show absolute care in avoiding causing their ambassador any sort of harm should we end up going to war with Wolfmoore,” the Emperor continues, borderline shocking everyone in the room.

The Empire of Eternal Night… has an embassy in such a small and pathetic- oh. Of course. The dungeon. It has to be the dungeon.

“As you can very well guess, the ambassador is there only for the sake of the Dungeon Core, whose name is Fenrir,” the Emperor continues while stepping down from the dais and approaching the Royal Guard. “And it is clear to us that this Dungeon Core doesn’t truly care about who is in charge above ground as long as it gets its flow of intruders. Therefore it is safe to go to war, as the two kingdoms allied with Wolfdenn are not a threat to us.”

The man continues stepping towards the Royal Guard until he stops right in front of Alistair, the commander of the Royal Guard and the Emperor’s very son. A Tier 7 King in his own right, not that he would claim any thrones unless his father told him to.

“So Alistair, my son,” the Emperor states while looking down at the man kneeling in front of him. “You will be in charge of the negotiations with Wolfdenn. And should they break down, you will be in charge of the war that follows. But only act personally if another Tier 7 shows themselves on the battlefield. Am I understood?”

“Yes, father!” Alistair declares with a firm nod of his head.

“Excellent,” the Emperor declares with a faint smile before turning around and reclimbing the dais again to sit down on the throne. Then he begins to speak, his voice echoing across the entire Kingdom through the use of his magic, “Hear me, citizens! The Kingdom of the Fallen will now be undertaking a diplomatic mission to annex the Neutral Nation of Wolfdenn, along with their dungeon! Let this be known!”

Shouts like thunder echo out from the window in the direction of the city streets, all of the citizens showing their respect for the declaration. And the shouts aren’t just limited to the city either. The nobles within the throne room, and even the Royal Guards and servants all join them.

For we travel to Wolfdenn in the morn.