Enjoying some afternoon tea—and snacks, of course, never forget the snacks—in one of the palace's many pavilions, Reivan took a sip from his cup as he serenely stared out into the garden where his nieces were playing with Dippy the blob-thing after they grew bored of the strange game they were playing earlier.
The game was something they made up, and it seemed to involve sneaking up on him. They weren't very good at it, of course. But he wasn't going to be a spoilsport, so he naturally let them win by pretending to be distracted by a particularly interesting cloud from time to time. It was just one of those things that he believed grown-ups should do.
One shouldn't expose them to the cruel reality of their relative weakness that soon.
'Cute little buggers.'
"It's so peaceful..." Reivan sighed in satisfaction at the calmness of the month directly after his wedding.
It had been a great month where absolutely nothing eventful happened. No mysterious organizations that could somehow create invisible warp gates bothered him. Zero volcanoes erupted. And no fights between grand beings that could destroy large swathes of the continent occurred.
Just peace, with not a whole lot of quiet, because his nieces were downright rumbunctious when they were around him. It was great. He liked seeing little kids fool around like this because it reminded him of peaceful times in his past life, when he could also just be a child together with Kyouka.
Helen, who was having tea with him, wiped her mouth with a napkin after devouring all the tea cakes that were supposed to be shared between them. "It feels like time just blew past. Our honeymoon's over and we have to go to Lageton tomorrow."
"My dear wife," Reivan's shoulders fell as he pulled his gaze away from his nieces. Dejectedly, he sighed. "You shouldn't remind me of the problems I'm trying to run away from. Why don't you help me run from them instead? You should support me in my endeavors."
"We all know you can't keep running forever." She rolled her eyes—something she didn't usually do but was now becoming an increasing occurrence because he often acted silly when he was around his cute nieces. "Besides, didn't you say that you like responsibility?"
"I did say something like that, yes."
"Were you lying?"
"Well, no. I wasn't lying..." Reivan grumbled as he rested his face against the marble table, enjoying its cool surface against his cheeks. "But I can complain, right? Grumbling makes me feel better."
Helen laughed softly in amusement, reaching up to play with his silver hair. "So my role here is to listen to your whining, is that it?"
"I prefer to think about it as you helping me vent stress, but yes. That is essentially it."
"I see. Should I get the cheese to accompany your whine, then?"
"Har-dee-har-har. Very funny." As revenge for her use of an age-old pun, he grabbed the hand toying with his hair and lightly bit her finger.
Helen raised a brow at that, doubling down on his antics by pushing it deeper into his mouth, freezing him in place from shock at her abruptness.
"How does it feel to have something shoved down your throat for once?" she asked with a salacious gaze.
Reivan's shoulders jumped at her words, his finger retreating from her mouth. Momentarily glancing to where his nieces were, he hissed. "Helen, there are children present."
"They can't hear us from here. And they're too busy playing."
She had a point, he'd admit it. Dippy got the memo and was bouncing around slowly enough for the children to catch it if they exerted themselves a little. With their pleasant laughter filling the air, they wouldn't have heard his wife's scandalous comments.
'Well, she didn't say anything directly, so it wouldn't have mattered if the kids heard them. But still...!'
The kids could have interpreted it in any number of ways. And all they'd have to do was mention it to the rest of the family for Reivan to have an awkward dinner.
'Oh, but then again, I won't be having dinner here for a while, so maybe it's okay? Wait, never mind. There's no way it's okay.'
"Hey." Helen turned to him with a smile as she rubbed her belly. "I think we'll get some good news soon."
Reivan raised a brow but nodded with a smile of his own. "I wouldn't be surprised, honestly. We've been trying way before the wedding, so it would line up."
Underneath his happiness, however, was a trace of poison. A certain worry gripped his heart. Given his father's previous experience with a wife dying in childbirth, Reivan was somewhat concerned about the same thing happening to him. Sure, there were plenty of Sormon Priests to help prevent that nowadays. But tragedy struck when you least expect it.
For Helen, however, his mind was at ease. Or as much as it could be, anyway.
He'd seen her take a lot of punishment in sparring matches. Childbirth seemed comparatively tame when compared to that. But he didn't believe the chances of tragedy to be zero.
To be honest, Reivan was more worried about the child's life because Helen's survival was pretty much guaranteed.
Helen continued to rub her flat and toned belly as if there was already a baby inside. "It's going to be a boy, I know it."
Amused, Reivan shrugged. "We won't know until much later. Besides, I don't mind if it's a girl. Girls are great too, just look at my nieces!"
She shook her head. "No, I'll make sure of it. I feel like if I try hard, it'll be a boy."
"You're not making any sense. Pregnancy doesn't work like that. Didn't you pay attention to your lessons back in the day?"
"Those were really boring... Training was better."
"Well, there you have it."
Reivan spent the next few minutes explaining to his wife that the baby's sex was completely up in the air. And since he was a hybrid warbeast-human, perhaps the child's race would be too.
Surprisingly, however, Helen was adamant that it'd be a boy.
'What the hell. You're not even pregnant yet! What's with all this confidence?'
Reivan was slightly concerned about how she would react if, after all her insistence, their first child ended up being a girl. She probably wouldn't neglect the child or be cruel, but he wanted to welcome his child into the world with positive feelings.
No baby should ever be born unwanted. Like he had been in his past life.
'She's oddly convincing though...'
Reivan scratched his head. Somehow, he really did feel like it'd be a boy if she wanted it to be. He wondered if it was his intuition or some strange assurance that Helen could do it because she was Helen.
'I really married someone abnormal.'
Abnormal in a good way, of course.
----------------------------------------
Just like that one time he left Aizen as the head of a diplomatic delegation, Reivan would have to be physically seen as departing the nation by way of sky arks. His retinue this time would have to leave in a similar manner. This not only announced to the citizens of Aizen that their royal family was doing something, but it would also let him arrive at his new nation in style.
Reivan was going to be the ruler, after all. There had to be a certain weight in everything he did. Gravitas, so to speak. This was not to instill fear or intimidate his subjects, but rather, it was to set their hearts at ease.
They were in capable hands now. All their problems would soon be made to go away.
Reivan wanted them to have those thoughts. He wanted to inspire those sentiments in his subjects.
Besides, doing it this way was positive PR and practical—essentially shooting two birds with one stone.
In any case, before boarding his sky ark, there was a not-so-heartfelt departure ceremony.
Everyone in his family knew he had access to a portal and could return to the palace at any time—even his little nieces. In fact, he’d probably be back in a few days. The knights were in the know too, so literally nobody felt that inclined to see him off.
Other than a crowd of citizens who kept calling him by some odd nickname.
“You heard what they kept calling me?” Reivan sat at one of his personal sky ark’s lounges.
Helen sat right next to him, her shoulder touching with his. “Lovestruck Prince.”
“Yeah. That. Where’d that come from?”
Jiji snorted as she also took a seat nearby. “Have you no self-awareness? It’s because of how foolishly you acted during your wedding. And after it, too.”
Reivan felt his cheeks burn slightly at that. There was absolutely nothing wrong with a man thinking his wife was pretty, but he was a bit too over the top that day. The worst part was that none of it had been deliberate.
Clearing his throat to shoo away some of his shame, Reivan turned an aggrieved side glance at his little sister. “You talk as if you saw it. As I recall, you didn’t even attend your own brother’s wedding! Where were you, anyway?”
Jiji crossed her arms and turned her head away with a snort. “I thought that the darkin would feel left out, so I accompanied them. They could see the crystal broadcast in the sky and were quite curious about everything, so I graciously explained things to them.”
“O-Oh… Okay, that’s a pretty good reason.” Reivan nodded and let the matter rest. The darkin had a special place in his heart and mind because their fate and prosperity were a matter left to him by Zell—his greatest benefactor. “Anyway, where’s Gwen…?”
As soon as he voiced that question, a blonde beauty with shoulder-length hair entered the room wearing not the usual knight's uniform, but a special set of official minister's attire.
It was Gwen, who would be his Head of Staff while also being his secretary, essentially being an extension of himself.
Reivan whistled and clapped. “It suits you, Gwen.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.” Gwen dipped her head slightly before looking around the room. “I greet Her Highness Princess Jiji and Lady Helen.”
Helen simply nodded in greeting while Jiji shook her head. “Where we’re going, I’m not a princess. I'm just this fool’s advisor. Please dispense with the formalities.”
“As you wish.”
“You’re still not doing it… Well, fine. Just get used to it, hm?” Jiji smiled at her and left it at that.
Reivan grinned at the two people who would likely do most of the ruling on his behalf.
Jiji would be his official advisor. And while that didn’t place her in any department, she arguably had a say in any department she wanted simply because she could walk around and say that Reivan approved it. Her other status as the princess of the kingdom also gave her near absolute power over any Aizenian in Lageton.
Gwendolyn was the official superior of every single personnel under him. As his secretary, she also had the option of doing anything she wanted under the premise that Reivan approved it.
Basically, both of them were below one person and above everyone else.
As for Helen, he was his wife so she was valuable by default. Also, she was one of the strongest entities he had under his command as long as she didn’t get pregnant. He already had Sir Xander as his personal guard, but having her around provided an extra layer of security.
Of course, he wasn’t a weakling who could only let others protect him, so he himself was one of his strongest protectors.
“You’ve been in Lageton this whole month, right?” Reivan asked when he remembered. “Good work. You rushed here to be on time for the departure ceremony, but you didn’t have to take the trouble.”
Gwen shook her head. “Given how Your Excellency will be stuck in this ark for the better half of a day, I felt it would be more efficient if I briefed you on a number of things along the way.”
Reivan hummed in understanding. The last time he’d taken a sky ark to Arkhan, he’d ridden The Fenrir— Aizen’s royal vessel and one of the largest sky arks in existence—and arrived in a couple of days.
This time, however, the place they were traveling to was not only closer, but they didn’t have to intentionally slow their pace for various reasons. That’s why it wouldn’t even take a day for them to arrive at their destination.
‘Anyway, this new sky ark’s nice.’
Reivan had his own sky ark, but he’d gotten a new one from his brother as a sort of advanced reward. Well, no. Roland had worded it as an apology—a reason that almost made Reivan give the airship back.
It was a black and gold sky ark. And it was fitted with weapons too, which was neat.
That said, it wasn't as big as his other one, though for very good reasons. Because of the treaty, he couldn't take his personal sky ark to Arkhan. The massive and well-crafted vessel had been made by an Ascendant artificer, disqualifying it from the war.
Thankfully, Aizen was a hive of talent and hard workers, so there were plenty of mortal artificers who could make sky arks too, just not as fast as the ones made by their superiors. There was also the added weakness of their enchantments, so the sky arks couldn't be too big either, and subsequently couldn't support as much weight.
Still, they made an especially decorated one for him to call his other personal sky ark.
Because he honestly couldn't be bothered to come up with a name, he just called it the "King Roland's Revenge", plagiarizing a famous pirate ship's name. Everybody liked it except for his brother, praising him for his ingenuity—which made him feel embarrassed until he realized that this event would likely make them think he was good at naming things.
And with that assumption, some people might come to him asking for help in naming stuff.
That was no bueno indeed.
‘Really brings me back...’
Despite the troubles he saw on the horizon, Reivan looked down at his right hand, which was firmly in his wife’s grasp. It seemed their thoughts were relatively the same, because she was also looking at him with a meaningful gaze.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
It was inside a sky ark that they had… well, consummated their love. Where all the walls between them were broken and they could just embrace each other without a care.
Sky arks were pretty special for the two of them. Honestly, they should have had their honeymoon on a sky ark instead.
'Since I have two sky arks now, should I give her my old one? Or should I leave that as something to pass down to my son, I wonder? I can just have another one made, too.’
Reivan felt conflicted over pleasing his wife and being a cool dad who gave away sky arks. Realistically, it would take maybe two decades before any child of his could drive a sky ark, but…
“Akhan is now being beset by fire-based life forms that have crawled out of once-dormant volcanoes.”
The stoic statement from his Head of Staff jolted Reivan out of his momentary internal conflict. “I heard something along those lines. They showed up after I returned to Aizen, right?”
Gwen nodded. “They are everywhere now, particularly in the southwestern area.”
“That’s really far from Lageton, right?” Jiji tilted her head. “Lageton’s in the southeast, after all. Or far east.”
“That’s not the point…” Reivan sighed, asking the dreaded question. “Are they too strong, or…?”
“They’re relatively easy to deal with,” Gwen said, immediately causing him to sigh in relief. “If we were to use your special gift’s effect of estimating someone’s physical capabilities, they should have around two hundred might.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad. I could probably kill, like, a few hundred of those at a time, no?”
“Indeed. But the problem is they don’t seem to be running out. They constantly pop out. There are also larger variants that are much more difficult to deal with. The former can be swept away relatively easily, but the latter is proving to be a cumbersome problem."
"I see. I retract my statement about it not being too bad..."
Gwen waited, seemingly contemplating whether to share something or not, but ultimately decided to do so. "The knights who were in charge of recon also reported a strange feeling from the volcanic entrances. As if something strong was lurking there.”
Jiji hummed in thought. “I think this is legal grounds to send Ascendants to investigate, right? It’s not breaking the treaty.”
“I’ve also considered that and have petitioned the castle for aid. Finding and taking out any Ascendants won’t break the treaty.”
“You certainly work fast,” she remarked with undisguised admiration.
“Right, right?” Reivan crossed his arms and grinned smugly. “Our Gwen’s really capable, you know?”
“Why are you bragging, Yani?” Jiji looked at him strangely before shaking her head—as if she’d given up on him. “Anyway, what of Lageton itself?”
“There have been no problems so far,” Gwen revealed a smile as she recounted. “That is also why we can skip our original plans to seize a seat of power through the normal route—which is to say, elections. Taking control of Lageton outright is possible. The people already see us as their overlords. Whoever we want to place on the high seat is who the people want. Nobody will contest it. Nobody will want to.”
Initially, Aizen’s takeover plan for Lageton and its surroundings was to hold an election. The relief efforts in Lageton had the additional use of promoting him. Adding fragrance to his name, so to speak. Even though the kingdom itself sent the aid, the people on the field would be wording it so that Reivan would seem like the proprietor of the relief efforts.
Though unsavory, they also planned to rig the election so Reivan would win in the off-chance that he didn’t. After all, he needed to win because it would effectively give him legitimacy despite his foreign roots.
This had all been planned out by his brother, told to him back when he was informed of his incoming post as the Hierarch.
Unexpectedly, the people of Lageton were more desperate than Roland anticipated, openly accepting foreign control. It was unknown whether these people made this decision with certain possibilities in mind—such as their new overlord establishing an entirely new nation separate from both the old republic and the kingdom.
Regardless, they would not be able to stop the takeover. The opinion of helpless people hardly mattered when entire nations moved, even if there were enough of them to fill a city. Unlike modern Earth, the will of the mob matters a lot less in a world where individuals could shatter entire provinces if they got powerful enough.
‘Lageton and every other city in the eastern portion of Arkhan were focused on industrial manufacturing among other things. They didn't have fields and relied on food shipments from the west, north, and central regions.’
That meant that Lageton was entirely reliant on Aizen for food now. And food was quite important for people who didn't want to starve to death. The kingdom had all the leverage and there was little Lageton could do about it even if force was taken out of the equation.
Everyone in the room understood that, so nobody else mentioned or elaborated on it. They all non-verbally decided to move on to the next topic of discussion.
“Your Excellency,” Gwen turned to him. “I’m sure you still remember that you’ve done assessments on a number of knights, given how your special gift seems to provide you with a numerical representation of their comprehensive physical capabilities.”
“That’s right.” Reivan nodded. “I haven’t done it in a while, though. They've stopped asking for me.”
“That is because administrators have figured out how to make rough estimates based on the data you’ve provided. It wasn’t that hard, though the numbers produced normally deviate by 100 points at maximum and 10 points at the minimum.”
‘Oh, that’s cool. So that’s why…’
“Ah, is this related to that?” Helen suddenly spoke up, gently stroking a little green-scaled lizard on her lap that wasn’t there before—it was the spirit beast he’d given her and it seemed like it had awoken from its spirit dew-induced slumber. “I was given a notice that I’m a Senior-grade Knight now… even though I'm only nineteen.”
Reivan’s brows furrowed in confusion. “When'd you get it?”
“A month ago? Or was it two weeks ago?”
“Huh? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“I thought you’d know already. Also, we were on our honeymoon so…”
“...Okay, fair enough.”
Naturally, they hadn’t just locked themselves up in a room and went nuts on each other. They spent the majority of the month following their marriage touring the kingdom, revisiting old haunts, and discovering new places that popped up while they were busy with their responsibilities.
The Modern Earth tradition of going overseas for these kinds of things didn’t really make it over to this world, given how potentially dangerous it was.
Argonia definitely wasn’t a good destination for anything but a raiding party, while Arkhan hadn’t been all that friendly until recent decades. There were the Pentagoria Continent’s five principalities, but the journey there wasn’t entirely safe with how dangerous the seas were to landlubbers—it was an unrestrained pool that was potentially full of very powerful monsters, after all.
That’s why, in Aizen and just about everywhere else, a newlywed couple just kind of spent the next few months adjusting to a life so close to another person. Honeymoons, the way Reivan used to know of them, were a purely royal tradition—and at most, it involved traveling the nation in secret and posing as common citizens for a while.
In any case, it was perfectly understandable for Helen to have forgotten to inform him at such a time. Honestly, Reivan had also cleared his mind of all other thoughts to enjoy his time with her more, so he couldn’t exactly blame her even if he wanted to.
“So what’s this about grades and such?” Reivan turned to Gwen, with a momentary glance at Jiji since he wasn’t sure if she also knew. Judging from his sister’s expression, she did.
“Though all knights were collectively known as knights,” Gwen said. “We did have our own underlying ranks. And for a time, we are also tied to certain departments. These have an effect on our salaries, but that’s beside the point—we never classified ourselves based on sheer physical capabilities.”
“Not because previous rulers never thought to do so, mind you,” Jiji chimed in. “But because they saw no merit in potentially demeaning a knight based on their strength alone. They wanted to focus on rewarding merits and competence rather than sheer unproven ability. Take Gwen, for example. Even without her personal strength, she has plenty of other talents and experiences throughout her tenure.”
“Makes sense.” Reivan nodded along, internally noting the kingdom’s predilection to meritocracy. “And that has changed?”
“We are in a state of war at the moment,” Gwen continued after his prompting. “And for the first time, mortals play a much larger role than Ascendants. For practicality’s sake, we need to properly have an assessment of a knight’s ability so they can be assigned to a task appropriate to their level.”
“Will my salary increase from this?” Helen asked.
‘You still get a salary…? Wait, what am I thinking? Of course, she does. She’s still a knight even though she’s my wife!’
“Strength will naturally have an effect on salaries, yes,” Gwen confirmed. “But there is still a focus on overall merits and the number of things you can do for the kingdom. It is not enough to have power, after all. It must also be used for the good of the nation.”
“Mhm. That’s why mine’s still low… All I’ve been doing is training and occasionally fighting in the Outlands.” Helen released a light sigh, causing Reivan to pat her back.
Because of her talent, the kingdom encouraged Helen to focus on training quietly, as that was what produced the best results for her. She was a fraudulent cheater that grew more powerful even if you left her to her own devices, so why would the kingdom put her in danger at all? All they had to do was keep her safe and she guaranteed to grow.
It certainly worked, given her meteoric rise in ability, but that also meant she had very little opportunity to earn merit as a knight.
She was powerful. But untested. Raw.
‘The republic will be her proving grounds, then. Until she gets pregnant, at least... Maybe I should delay that somehow?’
Gwen elaborated on the ranking system and it was pretty easy to understand, especially for him given how he was the origin of the numerical assessment system. Basically, there were five rankings: Elementary, Junior, Senior, Master, and Grandmaster.
Elementary-grade Knights were those who had just gotten knighted—meaning their might was in the 100s range—up until the 300s.
Junior was the rank where knights would spend the most time because it encompassed knights in the 400s to the 700s range.
Senior-grade Knights were those who had 800 Might and more. Half-Ascendants like Gwen, Helen, and Reivan also fell into this category.
As for Masters and Grandmasters, they were all Ascendants and there wasn’t really much of a difference when it came to pure physical prowess. What separated the two were their abilities beyond that, as well as their experience.
Without needing to be said, renowned knights such as the Twelve Helms were all immediately classified as Grandmasters. Valter too, was one. And clearly, Vianna and Viktor were Grandmasters as well.
They were basically a class of Ascendants that could very easily take out other Ascendants. The type of people you didn’t want to be on the opposite side of a battlefield with, though Reivan supposed he wouldn’t want to fight any Ascendant in his current state.
“Based on this ranking system, we can gain a better idea of how strong our initial core forces in Lageton are. Please take note that reinforcements can be requested from the motherland depending on circumstances. They're always ready to send more.”
“Hm,” Reivan grunted in agreement as he received a deluge of information from Gwen through his dream crystal. Likely, everyone else in the room experienced the same thing.
His core forces were basically as follows:
* 10 Senior-grade Knights (not including Sir Xander, Dame Gwendolyn, Dame Helen, and Jiji—who barely made the cut)
* 90 Junior-grade Knights.
* 900 Elementary-grade Knights who would likely rank up within the year.
That totaled up to a thousand knights assigned to him by his brother.
Of course, that didn’t include the hundred knights sent over by House Mercer, all of whom were either close to being Senior-grade Knights or already were. Not to mention that every single one had the [Wind] or [Lightning] attributes—maybe even both.
In essence, he actually had 1100 human knights whose loyalty and motivations were unquestionable.
Now, the non-human forces on the other hand…
The Terracatta Clan’s forces and the darkin weren’t included in the count, but Reivan still allowed them to send troops. Furthermore, he’d limited them to only a hundred each.
The limitation placed on them wasn’t some form of harassment or an attempt to curtail their achievements. Rather, it was aimed to force the two races to choose their most capable mortal warriors only, leaving behind anyone who couldn’t fight. After all, Reivan feared that in their zeal to prove their worth, they would throw even those too weak to fight into battle.
In the end, Reivan chose to prioritize their safety above increasing the number of forces he could command.
The limitations he set weren’t much of a problem for the darkin, as they numbered less than five hundred in the first place. But the warbeasts of the Terracatta Clan were not so few—there was apparently a fierce competition over who got to join since they had so many powerful warriors. With the special nature of how warbeasts all specialized in physical combat, he could expect all one hundred of the people they were sending to be at the level of Senior-grade Knights.
'They're not going to be happy about it...'
Such a decision, in the end, would win him no favors. But he didn’t really mind, if he was being honest. At least, his conscience would be a little cleaner knowing that the people he would send into battle were actually strong—meaning if even they died, there really wasn’t much that could be done to avoid the casualty. A weaker knight would have definitely died in their place.
Some other forces weren’t included in the number, however.
“What about the battlemages?” Helen asked, once again having returned to absentmindedly stroking the mini dragon—which had rolled over and exposed its stomach for her fingers. “There are a lot of them, no?”
“Indeed.” Gwen nodded and for the first time, seemed troubled. “Our method of assessment does not really work for battlemages. Not only is their magic not tied to physical ability, but their spirit beasts have to be taken into account. They are an absolute nightmare to classify.”
It was the first time Reivan had seen her like this so he unconsciously smiled, though of course he still treated the matter seriously. “It’s fine. I’ll help classify their spirit beasts, at least. How many of them are there, by the way?”
“Our most recent count is at 10,989.”
“That’s a lot. Wow.”
“There should be a lot more, but most are still spread throughout the republic. Likely wherever they were posted before the event happened.” Gwen emphasized, alluding to the cataclysmic fight involving more than a handful of Transcendents. “That said, a lot of them ended up here from the north to flee the empire’s witch hunters.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen what spellbane bullets can do.” Reivan scratched his chin. “Though I think it should only be effective in ambushes or against battlemages with really weak spirit beasts. The stronger ones would just shrug any bullets off, spellbane or not.”
Gwen hummed in agreement. “We have also recruited plenty of people who are capable of magic, but aren’t battlemages because they don’t have spirit beasts. They do not know any lethal spells due to the tower's restrictions on military-grade spells, however.”
The combination of qualities made it obvious to Reivan where these sorcerers came from. “Were they from local academies? And those who pursued other careers because they failed the Tower's entrance exam?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it.”
That meant they were all much like Clover before he was found by Reivan. Just another one of the many people in the republic who dreamed of being a battlemage.
“That’s perfect, then.” Jiji clapped her hand, a white kitten purring on her lap. “We can use them as foot soldiers instead of recruiting from the mundane. They’d be more effective in various ways and less likely to get killed… Hm, since the empire employs a lot of mundane troops, why not just give the sorcerers some guns? There has to be plenty stocked up in the various cities nearby.”
“Ah, that’s a good idea.” Reivan hummed in agreement. He unconsciously eyed his wife’s lap before glancing at his sister’s. Both of them had creatures on them.
Not wanting to be left out, he was about to summon Dippy before deciding on Zouros instead. He didn’t give his favorite snake enough love these days.
With that out of the way, Reivan continued as he stroked the shrunken anaconda on his lap. “Lageton’s in an industrial manufacturing region so there ought to be some factories that produced guns nearby… Though I hope it hasn’t been looted for everything it’s worth yet.”
“There is no need to worry,” Gwen announced. “Since there were plenty of flight-capable battlemages, I’ve sent a party over to search through arms factories nearby. Lady Elsamina was kind enough to provide me with a detailed list of where they all were when I mentioned it. Apparently, she secretly owned some of them, and was just happy that the loss could be salvaged somehow.”
Reivan hummed in satisfaction at his competent subordinate. “That’s nice. I’ll make sure to thank Elsa myself. Pay her for the damages too, since it’s technically the kingdom’s fault that everything went to shit.”
“And how, may I ask, are you going to pay her back?” Helen asked, hand on his thigh.
Zouros, still coiled up in his lap, looked at the suddenly invading hand and gave it a sharp lick before going back to napping.
Feeling somewhat betrayed by his comrade’s lack of reaction, Reivan chuckled dryly. “With money, of course…”
Jiji snorted. “I doubt that’s all. Helen, watch your husband. You might lose him if you’re too careless.”
Helen frowned pensively at her but nodded. “Noted.”
Perhaps to help him out of his predicament by suddenly changing the subject, Gwen turned to him and asked him a question he didn’t want to be asked.
“By the way, Your Excellency. Have you decided on the nation’s name yet?”
Reivan groaned. He had given it some thought. But this was a country. What if he came up with a stupid name? Everybody would know him as the stupid name guy.
But then again, he couldn’t avoid it forever. “I did.”
“Oh, this oughta be fun.” Jiji covered her mouth and snickered. “Please tell us, oh Great Hierarch Reivan.”
Biting his lip in hesitation as he glared resentfully at his sister, he squeezed out the name he’d come up with.
“Samsara. That’s what I want the nation to be called…”
Reivan looked around and only saw confusion, which made sense since it probably wasn’t a familiar word for them. Though the kingdom used English as its language because his ancestor spread it around, the word he’d just spoken was Sanskrit, not English.
Samsara was a word that was tied to him as well.
It pertained to the cycle of life and rebirth. Basically, reincarnation—which he was a grateful benefactor of.
Reivan wanted to give the new nation this name in the hopes that he could help it be reborn as well.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Or the first signs of spring after a cold harsh winter. Samsara would rise anew, and the people of the old republic would be better off for it.
He was really starting to like the name he came up with when his wife suddenly spoke up.
“I don’t like it.”
Stunned, Reivan muttered. “Eh? But why…?”
Helen resentfully nudged him with her elbow. “It sounds like a woman’s name. Why are you naming it after her and not me?”
“Wh-what? No! It’s not some woman’s name!... Though it kind of does sound like one, now that I think about it. Particularly the ‘Sara’ part. But it's not, I swear!”
‘Honestly, I feel like I’ve had a fling with someone named Sara for research purposes…’
Of course, Reivan wouldn’t say that out loud.
Since there was no way he could pretend that he knew a language that didn’t exist in this world, he just lied and said that the word sounded cool. With [Essence of Falsehood]’s assistance, they believed him, and the name was given a passing grade.
And so, the Hierarchy of Samsara was officially christened on a black sky ark flying over the sea.