Reivan and Elsa shamelessly flirted inside the magitech carriage until they were interrupted by the a knock from the front. They hadn't even noticed it, but the carriage had lurched to a stop at some point, and the driver thankfully reminded them.
"Looks like we're here." Reivan smoothed out his clothes to make sure he was still presentable, even taking out a mirror to check if his disguise was still fine. Even though he could feel that it was, he was still compelled to make sure.
‘It never hurts to double-check these things.’
He’d never had the equivalent of a wardrobe malfunction when it came to his transformations and disguises, but he’d like to keep it that way.
Then he looked at Elsa and glanced at one of the rings on her left hand.
It was actually a heat-neutralizing artifact of the highest quality that he'd procured before coming here and was supposed to be distributed to key members of Ouroboros' staff. They specialized in handling heat instead of the temperature-neutralizing ones, which handled cold and heat.
'The current climate really is troublesome though.'
Elsamina didn't put it to use, but she innately had the [Fire]affinity. That meant she was resistant to heat, just as Reivan—who had the [Ice[ affinity—was resistant to cold.
That said, resistance didn't equate to immunity. If the temperature was intense enough, just the boon that an affinity granted wouldn't suffice. Reivan, for one, could still be frozen into a popsicle by an Ascendant or if he was dropped in a vat of liquid nitrogen for a couple of days.
And since the heat wave plaguing them right now was caused by a Transcendent, everybody in Arkhan clearly needed a bit more oomph to handle it. Luckily, just possessing the [Fire] affinity alone would have prevented her from dying of heatstroke even without the help of artifacts—though, of course, she was still heavily inconvenienced by the discomfort.
Even now, she was dabbing away at beads of sweat that constantly sprouted from her neck and forehead. It wasn’t the sexy kind of sweating either. She just looked downright uncomfortable and he didn't like that at all.
"You okay?" Reivan couldn't help but ask her just to be sure.
Elsamina put her handkerchief away and nodded with a troubled smile. "I can handle it. I've been making my rounds even before today, you know? And it's night now, so it's actually milder than usual. Still uncomfortable, but it's manageable."
He hummed in thought before taking her hand and infusing some cold energy into her body. Such an act actually counted as an "attack" and would have harmed her if done inexpertly. With how strong his body had become, his elementalism had grown equally more potent and dangerous for lesser mortals.
Perhaps because the target was someone very important to him though, Reivan found himself in top shape at the moment. He had no trouble gently guiding his energy through her veins.
"Oh, that feels nice," Elsamina remarked with wide eyes. "Thanks."
"Glad I could help." Reivan smiled and let go, opening the door and getting off the carriage first. He then turned around and offered his hand as she followed after him. "Watch your step."
She obviously didn't need any help but appreciated the gesture anyway, linking arms with him as they started walking to... well actually, Reivan didn't know. Wherever they needed to be, he supposed.
Looking around, all he could see was some walled off area, surrounded by a gray stone. Even after searching through his memories of Lageton, he couldn't remember there being a place like this. But then again, he wasn't exactly around that much these past few months.
Fortunately, Elsamina must have anticipated his confusion since she began explaining in a quiet voice. "The knights helped us set up a makeshift graveyard in the outskirts. We walled it off so monsters wouldn't dig the bodies up, though I don't think there are any left around here."
'Oh, that makes sense.'
Part of the reason why cremation was prevalent as a way to deal with the bodies of the deceased was because nobody wanted their precious family member's body to end up in some scavenger-type monster's belly. Such monsters were normally numerous and quick to proliferate. But so weak that they avoided hunting themselves.
Thankfully, that meant that they had likely gotten utterly wiped out in the chaos and the aftermath of the Sage King's death. Or perhaps they would have thrived because of all the bodies everywhere? He should probably check at some point, but he was willing to bet that they were erased from majority of Arkhan. At the very least, they would not be able to survive this heat unassisted.
In the past, the kingdom also had pest problems when it came to scavengers. That's why cremation had become the "traditional way" in Aizen since a long time ago, lasting up until the present era. Even though unrestrained monsters were nonexistent within its borders now, the tradition has simply stuck and people didn't see the need to change what had worked for thousands of years. The planting of trees the way it was done for knights in the Sword Star’s mountain was an outlier though, one reserved for heroic figures.
But with all that said, only common people were restricted to cremation as their only choice. People rich and powerful enough to erect tombs in protected areas had other options—not that they exercised this option a lot.
With his future wife in tow and idle thoughts running through his mind, Reivan walked through a very simple archway leading into the would-be cemetery.
‘That’s a lot of people.’
Scattered throughout were tombstones with actual inscriptions, with a few graves having people mourning over them. Here and there, Reivan could spot knights and what appeared to be battlemages inscribing names on the headstones with advice from the bereaved—the two types of soldiers easily distinguishable by their general features and the presence of wands.
The process of burying everyone didn’t seem to have been completed though, as countless corpses wrapped in white cloth lay strewn everywhere, waiting in eternal silence for their turn. Some were still in carts, stacked high like rolls of carpets.
“It seems they started ahead of schedule.” Elsamina looked around soberly as her hold on his arm tightened. “I wasn’t informed.”
“Well, it’s not like you were available.” Reivan cleared his throat. “We, uh, made it perfectly clear that we didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Oh. Good point, now that I think about it. I thought the organizers just didn’t want me to see the grunt work. They insisted that I only show up toward the end.”
“That was very considerate of them.”
“You know how I lived, honey. My stomach can take this kind of thing. I saw a corpse once every few weeks. And more often than not, they were someone I knew and talked to.”
Reivan grunted mutely. “Well, it’s been years since then. Are you sure you’re still the same person?”
Elsamina giggled quietly. “I suppose you’re right. Objectively, it hasn’t been all that long. But that point of my life feels so far away now.”
“That’s a good thing. Right?”
“Indeed it is. And I have you to thank.” She smiled, momentarily laying her head on his shoulder. “You took a chance on me when nobody else would have. When everybody else only saw me as something dirty and impure.“
“Eh, I was young.” Reivan shrugged with a joking grin. “Maybe I was just horny.”
“Pfff. Then I have your little guy to thank.”
"Please don't call it little..."
"Oh? I just meant it was little when compared to you as a whole. Your little one is most definitely not little."
"And like I said, stop calling it little!"
They shared amused smiles, but the reality of their surroundings quickly put a damper on things once again. In this place, happiness was hard to find and maintain. For all around them were reminders of the tragedy that had befallen the people of Arkhan—or rather, the tragedy that was still ongoing.
Looking around as they walked, the corners of Reivan’s lips gradually fell as he watched names be engraved into stone, cloth-wrapped bodies be lowered into freshly dug pits, and people from various walks of life shed tears or stop them from falling.
A silver lining, if anything, was the knights and mages working tirelessly to maintain comfortable temperatures throughout the area. Mages, on the one hand, used more direct methods like creating balls of chilling air that cooled their surroundings. Meanwhile, frost and wind-attributed knights worked hand-in-hand to create cold air and circulate it while those with the water and fire attributes manipulated temperatures directly.
The knights were foreigners. And though it wasn’t public knowledge, Aizen was partly responsible for the tragedy they suffered.
Yet at this moment, nobody cared about anybody’s origin. Nobody cared if the other’s face looked different from what they were used to. Or if the people around them weren’t those they swore to protect when they took their oaths.
Everybody just looked at the tombstones and the corpses, wishing that those people weren’t dead. Because the pain of losing someone was a pain that everybody from all walks of life around the world could understand. And few would wish that pain upon someone else.
“Honey…” Elsamina looked up at him, her green eyes holding a silent prayer behind them. “No, Your Excellency. Can I ask how you intend to handle the people? You know, when you finally hold power.”
Reivan paused to give the question the amount of consideration it deserved, but stopped when he realized how simple it was and how there really was only one answer. “It has already been decided, but how do you want me to handle them?”
“I…" she hesitated but eventually spoke in a quiet voice. "I want to help them get back up… If it won't interrupt whatever the kingdom plans...”
With a nod, Reivan directed his gaze forward. “Perfect. That was my intention too.”
Elsamina also seemed to smile. “I see. That’s good. If it ever becomes a question of money, then I’m willing to give up what little wealth I’ve personally accrued…”
Ouroboros essentially belonged to Reivan, so its bounty naturally trickled into his wallet. Elsa ran it for him, but like everyone else in the organization, she was an employee. As such, whether the businesses did well or not, she didn’t profit very much.
‘That was how she thought, at least.’
Naturally, that didn’t seem right to Reivan. So to stop her from refusing a salary—saying that as a liberated slave, she was only paying him back for freeing her—Reivan forced her to accept part of the entire organization’s profits instead of a flat sum.
Given the scale that Ouroboros had grown to, Elsamina actually ended up very wealthy in her own right. Everything was in the Aizenian lumen too, so even if the republic’s currency ended up being debased after all this, she was sitting pretty. Besides, even if she did have everything in the republic’s currency, he would have allowed her to convert it to lumen even though the crown would take a loss. Or rather, he would have asked his brother and would have easily gotten permission.
“Why are you worried about money?” Reivan scoffed. “You’ll be officially joining the family soon, so listen well, my beloved. We don’t worry about money. We’re the ones who make money. There's this artifact that prints it out and stuff.”
“As expected of Aizen’s prince.”
“That’s right. We are absolutely loaded beyond your wildest dreams. And besides,” he said as he subtly gestured all around them. “Look at this place. Do you think money has any value to these people anymore?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Elsamina frowned, but couldn’t deny it.
With the national economy essentially devastated, people could only procure supplies locally, be it food, medical supplies, or other things like luxury items. It hadn’t reached the point where people had to starve, but that possibility inched closer day by day.
Luckily, the kingdom was sending relief aid while using Ouroboros’ subsidiaries as distribution channels.
That said, currency had all but lost its value in light of the current situation. You couldn’t eat it, wear it, or use it for self-defense. It even made for bad toilet paper. Now, goods held priority above all—in particular, food. And water too, with how rivers and seas were contaminated with ash.
“Anyway…” Reivan’s eyes sharply observed a certain item hanging from numerous people’s belts and he couldn’t help but grimace. “I’m seeing a lot of firearms.”
Elsa followed his gaze and hummed in agreement. “These are troubled times. People want to feel safe. I can understand them. Back when I was powerless—well, more powerless than I am now—I also saw security in having them. Always kept one with me back then, but now I have spell balls, runestones, and a knight escort.”
‘Yeah, but the guns are a problem. Not for us, knights, and battlemages. But for ordinary people.’
It was one of the problems Gwen had warned him about. Though it wasn’t as if guns were being sold on every street corner like fried potato snacks, they were still quite accessible to most Arkhanian households should they have excess funds to invest in protecting themselves.
Though they weren’t a threat to the crown and its authority, Aizen had long banned rampant possession of such weapons since they were a potentially harmful element for other ordinary citizens. The kingdom understood that just giving people the option to enact violence could push a normally harmless person into doing something regrettable.
But that wasn’t the case here in Arkhan. And it was a problem just waiting to happen.
Limited food supply and questionable public order? Yeah, nobody was going to use their gun to steal from other people—said no one ever.
‘We could confiscate them, but that could also be seen as the kingdom oppressing them. Or preparing to.’
Knights could bully ordinary citizens with or without those citizens possessing firearms. But said citizens couldn’t quite understand that until they started actually getting bullied. Having a gun was power, and it made those who possessed one believe that such an item could protect them from all harm.
They were wrong, of course. It was just dangerous for them and everyone around them. The only thing a gun could harm at the moment were ordinary people and maybe a sleeping battlemage with a retarded spirit beast companion.
With the special agreement in place between Aizen and Argonia, no Ascendants were allowed in these lands barring special circumstances. And that meant it was impossible to keep an eye on every single inch of every single settlement at every single minute of every day. Crimes were going to get through, unlike in Aizen, where you could walk through a dark alley naked and come out the other end unmolested.
Eventually, somebody was going to shoot someone else in the face over something that could have been avoided.
‘What a pain in the fucking ass…’
Honestly, Reivan wanted to take the hardline approach of going ahead with the mass confiscation. Or maybe just announcing an order to surrender all weapons. It was a reasonable request, the way he saw it.
If they were going to eat out of the kingdom’s hands and depend on its protection, then they should submit to its authority. By doing so, the kingdom could protect them more easily and actually focus on making their lives a little better than it is.
Wasn’t that how Aizen had done it these past few millennia? It had worked, that was for sure. All authority belonged to the crown and all who lived under its shadow must surrender to its rule. Everyone born in the kingdom understood this and accepted it early on in life.
The problem was how differently Arkhanians were raised.
‘It’s all democracy’s fault, honestly.’
If they don’t like a politician, then they just vote for someone they do like in the next election. That was basically how most Arkhanians thought about the people who led them.
To them, voting was power. Power to choose, power over those above them, and power to decide what direction Arkhan went in. It made them feel as if they, individually, had more authority than they actually did—it made them defiant to authority.
That made them a little harder to govern without ruffling feathers. Some were always going to complain, the loud ones being particularly vocal.
‘Gwen warned me about a bunch of stuff, suggesting I think about it before I actually take office, but…’
It was hard though.
Honestly, Reivan wanted to be liked as a ruler, but he also understood that pandering would get them nowhere. And if that happened, he would be hated and disdained for being incompetent anyway.
He did try to think of ways to satisfy everyone, however. Such as improving the situation to the extent that nobody would feel the need to use their guns, for one thing. That would make the citizens happy and put a bandaid over the problem. And who knew if he couldn't just go through with the mass confiscation afterward by riding the momentum of his success?
“Elsa.” Rievan turned to her. “You're closer to the people here than I am. How is public opinion on the food situation? Are people hoarding or panicking about the possibility they’d run out?”
Though he wouldn’t have faulted her if she said she didn’t know, fortunately, it seemed she did.
With a nod, she spoke in hushed tones so the people they were passing couldn’t hear. They were already attracting enough attention as is, being so well-dressed and all that. “Merchants who coincidentally stocked up before everything happened. Markets are empty, save for some people betting on the chance to convert their money into something useful.”
“What about normal households? Middle class and whatnot.”
“They’re being frugal about it, of course. I think I heard some people rationing in anticipation of a shortage.”
“The lower class?”
“They’re pretty much dependent on relief aid. They were people who lived on their daily wage from the very beginning, so they never had a stockpile of anything. Using wages from yesterday, they'll buy what they need today—that's how they've been living. That isn't possible now, since anyone with a stock won't be selling. With the economic situation like this, employers aren’t calling these people in for work. And even if they did, workers wouldn't take money as payment in our current situation.”
“Fuck…”
Elsamina sighed. “Fuck, indeed. I have tried to remedy it by employing as much as I can in moving the supplies the kingdom sent, in exchange for some of the supplies themselves. That way, they won’t feel too pressured to feed their selves or their families."
Reivan squeezed her hand and gazed at her in admiration. “That was really good thinking.”
“Thanks. But it’s really not that big of a deal… We have the crown to thank for the relatively bright situation.” she said, before shaking her head. "But I can only employ so much, especially since our companies have never been understaffed in the first place. Most of our businesses have also lost relevance now, so I've relegated most of our employees to working as porters or managing the stock. Restaurants, tourist services, souvenirs... It's all closed now. But at least the volume of relief aid the kingdom sends is so large that Lageton’s in no danger of starving any time soon."
"But that’s not what people believe. No?”
Elsamina smiled sadly as she nodded. "I'm afraid that's the case, even though I've ordered our people to subtly assure the populace that Lageton is in no danger of starving."
“That’s certainly a problem…” Reivan thought about it for a bit, and came up with a makeshift solution. “Stop being subtle then. Just outright show off how many supplies remain undistributed.”
Elsa tilted her head. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we keep that under wraps so people don’t feel tempted to sneak in and steal anything? It’ll also make them question why we aren’t just giving it out already. It's always like that during hard times. The weak think everyone above them is out to exploit them. If people have unanswered questions like that, they tend to get anxious that those above are—forgive my language—fucking them in the ass.”
He had to physically stop himself from laughing at her words by slapping his mouth, reminding himself how serious the discussion was. “It’s better than them panicking. Besides, knights and battlemages are guarding the warehouses. No ordinary gang of burglars can get through that. And if they question why we aren’t just giving it all out, just say it’s to make sure the food doesn’t go bad or something. Say that our warehouses have more regulated temperatures than anywhere else.”
“That’d be a lie though, wouldn't it? Is that how you want to start your reign?"
“Good point. But as the people demonstrated in this particular dilemma, the truth doesn’t matter. What matters is what they believe. Besides, it’s a harmless lie. They just need to keep quiet and let us help them. Securing their cooperation is vital for Lageton's recovery.”
Elsamina looked down in thought for a few moments before nodding. “Understood. I’ll get right to it.”
Sensing her complicated feelings, Reivan squeezed her hand again. “We’re going to help a lot of people Elsa. It’s just… We can’t help them if they don’t let us. We also can’t do it if they’re shooting each other and questioning every little thing we do because they can't trust anyone. For now, it is paramount that they stay quiet and behave until this tragedy passes. Then we can start trying to rebuild and get everyone back on their feet. Then we can start making things better.”
She looked up and met his gaze with a grin. “I get it. I was never against it in the first place. Did you think I was doubting you?”
With a shrug, he rolled his eyes. “Hey, I was just trying to set your mind at ease and eliminate any misgivings. Shouldn’t you thank me instead?”
“I suppose you’re right. Oh, dear me. Whatever shall I do to repay the prince’s grace? I have nothing on me at the moment.”
“Repay me? Hm, well…” Reivan grinned as greasily as he could as he pointedly gazed at her chest. “I can think of a few ways. Two, in fact. And they barely fit in my hands.”
"You fiend."
"Eh, isn't it your fault? Who told you to look so criminally beautiful?"
Once again, they shared a moment of happiness that was quickly dampened by the surrounding atmosphere. It was to the extent that they would have felt horrible if they laughed or talked too loudly while other people were bawling and tearing their throats out in the wake of their wailing.
It had been a short time, but Reivan felt as if he got a good glimpse into the underlying problem of the domain he would come to rule after his marriage.
And though he could think of possible solutions to each one, he was unsure if he could see it through.
----------------------------------------
Once people started noticing the very well-dressed couple, Ouroboros executives who recognized Elsamina approached and led the two of them into a wooden stage that allowed them to look over the entire cemetery.
Amusingly, very few people knew who Reivan was and were quite surprised when Elsa introduced him as the real head of whatever decoy company she said she was running. Of course, if he wore his real face, everybody would no doubt recognize him on account of his silvery-white hair and golden irises.
He was somewhat afraid they’d take the opportunity to suck up, but they didn’t. Everybody offered greetings and retreated back into their own corners and cliques. Conversations were quiet and the mood was grim. It was clear that even the executives had lost some people. Whether they were acquaintances, lovers, or family, he didn’t know.
In respect, Reivan and Elsamina didn’t say a word while waiting for the burials to finish.
As he did, Reivan solemnly looked around. He watched the porters hauling corpses, the workers delivering carts full of cadavers before returning to get more, the mages carving names they were hearing for the first time onto stone headplates, and knights maintaining the temperature in an endeavor to provide some measure of comfort for the bereaved of another country.
Reivan observed and carved everything into his memory—that this was the price paid by others for the continued prosperity of his homeland.
And even if they loathed him for thinking so, he would still prefer this to the alternative of letting the Sage King complete whatever plans he had, potentially endangering the kingdom’s sovereignty. If he went back in time to the moment he helped set the war into motion, he would do it again.
He would create this scene again without hesitation.
It was with a hint of guilt that Reivan desired to help these people rise up again. And maybe, if they cooperated, he could aid them in rising even higher—in becoming a civilization as peaceful and secure as the home he'd found in his second life.
With those thoughts in his heart, the burials finished and the funeral rites began.
Arkhan didn’t have a religion and actually prevented its proliferation because of historical events. But death was present in all societies across the various planes, as such, ceremonies to see off the dead were always going to pop up somehow.
There was an emcee of sorts, and he stepped front and center stage before saying a few words about how the deceased would always be remembered. Then he took out a bottle of wine and nearly emptied it on the soil below before drinking the rest.
Some people in the crowd took out their own bottles or small flasks, doing the same thing for their beloved. There were even people who shared what little they had with others who didn’t bring wine of their own.
Alcohol was an integral part of Arkhanian culture. It warmed one’s insides and fought off the perpetual cold. To them, pouring one last drink for the dead meant a solemn wish for the deceased to keep warm on their way to oblivion.
The chilling winds they had always known were gone now and nobody knew if they would ever return. But the dead still needed to be sent off. And the people only knew one way to do it.
“Here.” Reivan took out two bottles of wine and handed one to Elsa before emptying the remaining bottle on stage. These were probably quite pricey, even for a particularly wealthy citizen of Aizen. But he couldn't care enough to check, nor did he care if he was right.
He had lost nobody. In fact, he did the things that he did because he didn’t want to lose anybody even at the cost of other people’s suffering.
Maybe he didn’t have the right to pay respects. Perhaps his current actions angered the dead enough for them to lay a curse on him or something.
But for him, it was fine if they got angry. He was prepared to accept that much, at least.
Once all the wine was gone and only empty bottles or flasks remained, the funeral rite for hundreds of people ended just like that. Not for most of the people though, since the wounds caused by the deaths of their loved ones were cuts that wouldn’t heal today. Or any time soon.
Most remained even after the upturned soil settled, and maybe they would stay long after that. Perhaps some of the people here today would never truly leave, becoming entirely different people when they passed through that stone archway again.
Maybe Reivan was one of them.
As he closed his eyes to offer a silent prayer for these people he didn't know, he knew that it would be hard to forget this day.