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Lotus Ascension: Uncrowned War God
Prologue: The Letter, the Prophecy and the Ancient Box

Prologue: The Letter, the Prophecy and the Ancient Box

It was the morning of the third day of Winter. 

In the town of Barcus which was located near the edge of the Norne Republic, a mild and tranquil area governed by a humble Baron, suddenly went buzzing like bees.

Horses gallop from everywhere. Wagons pulled from North to South. People running from left to right and vice versa. Whether it were lowly peasants, commoners, clerks or soldiers, they were hardly anyone who was never busy. 

This was a rare occurrence in this small place. Having existed for three generations since the time of the First Archduke, the town of Barcus was known for its silent persona. Thus, it earned the monicker, "Serene Barcua."

But now, all traces of that disappeared.

"Lord Baron's child has been conceived! Quick Quick!"

Shouts of joy and excitement echoed around the town's streets. Due to the news of the Lord Baron's heir being born, the people would most  certainly rejoice.

Although such an event would normally not be of any significant to these people, unless they were belonging to the aristocrats seeking connections. But, the Lord Baron was a humble and generous man.

Tyrus von Barcuse, third generation Baron of the Barcus clan, was famous in the Winter Provinces.

A former squire of one of the Twelve Royal Guardians, apart from his significant contribution to administration, was a splending soldier.

Bravery, charisma and management; such skills were obtained by this man. But what separated him from those Barons, Earls, Marquis and Dukes were not those traits. 

It was that magnanimous aura that he had inherited from his ancestors.

"What gift should be appropriate?"

Asked a merchant down the corner of the streets. He secretly slithered to a guard's pocket a few bronze coins. 

"I heard from my captain's acquiantance that the young master had great health. He can be a great soldier one day. A sword maybe..."

The guard whispered to the merchant.

"I see. I see."

Clasping his hands, the merchant sallied forth. The guard, on the other hand, smirked before leaving.

"I heard the young master was guided by the goddess of Wisdom. It was said that the Star of the Knowledge brightened upon his birth."

A man dressed in purple robe whispered while surrounded by a group of people.

"Books! We should give books!"

"But what sort of books would young master not have?"

Recurring situations occurred in the streets. Rumors of the status of the young master was spread all over.

The son of the goddess of knowledge.

A man who was fated to be a great soldier.

A scholar who will shake the Earth.

Many of this rumors propagated but with no certainty.

Even so, regardless of factual evidence, it was true that the young master was not an ordinary boy.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

After all--

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"Milord, the Clan Leader of the Yusof Clan has sent his regards with 800 ort of Gold, a chest of rubies and saphire with a silver robe made of the finest of silk."

"Milord, Lord Rork of Iron Black Mountain has given three chests of the fines of swords, spears and axes."

"Milord...."

Recurring sentences were voiced out inside a spacious hall. From the end of the hall which was quite near the center, a bronze chair were place. 

A man dressed in bluish white uniform with an insignia of an azure bird with red feathers emphasized on its edges. The man sat with a disinterested expression. It was just quarter of the day yet over 1000 vette of gifts were already given to him. 

Those gifts were all lavish to these people living near th edge of the Republic. Although compared to those living in the Federal Capital, those gifts were but simple ornaments yet here they were a symbol of making relationships.

"As expected of noble. Fast like a horse, slick like the snake."

The man sitting on the chair grumbled while he placed his head on top of his right palm.

"Lord Tyrus, what should we do about that Letter?"

A man wearing a white robe and a black pillow-like hat spoke. He was beside Lord Tyrus as he held a small red chest adorned by gold engravings.

"From Master?"

The man whispered as he glanced at the chest before bringing his mind into deep ponder. 

A gift from his Master was quite rare. Altough it had been a few decades since they last met, it was still very unnatural considering that man's personality. 

"It should be because of the irregularities of his birth."

Lord Tyrus slightly nodded his head and then took the chest from the man's hand.

"Colbert, tell the maids to fetch Eleina. I need to discuss something important to her."

He said as he fiercely gazed on the red chest. Colbert nodded his head but before leaving he let out a question.

"Milord, what should we do about the gifts given by the commoners?"

"Naturally we accept them. Commoners, slaves, guards, nobles, even the nomads....even if they are beasts with no intellect so long as they stay, breathe and live within the walls of my town they are considered my family."

Lord Tyrus declared with a proud tone but did not give even a glance to the man known as Colbert.

Colbert's face slightly tweaked but it was swift and abrupt that not even the guards stationed beside the corridors would notice it.

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Within the courtyard of the Knight Grounds of the Town, a pile of gifts were placed in a large mat.

Even though it's called an area where knights convened, compared to those located within bigger cities, especially to that in the Capital, it was like comparing a gravel to a mountain.

Managing the gifts placed within the area, a man dressed in silver battle armor had his steed stand beside it. The man had rough and menacing face with his hair appearing quite grayish. It can be said that this man's age would definitely surpass his 40's.

In front of the mountain of gifts, a long line of people, who were being assisted by guards, stood. Sometimes slowly advancing, sometimes swiftly dispersing. The total population of the town is around 10, 000 people which was composed by all forms of people, from the rags to riches.

But that estimate did not include mercenaries and nomads normally outside the walls of the town. 

Compared to most towns, this city was flourishing in number. It might be said that due to it being in the outskirts of the republic the abundance of resources made it eye-catchy for human life to thrive. However, it was not only men who craved those resources.

"So it had already begun..."

Through a narrow view from the top of the mountain of gifts, a inconspicuous man dressed in rags made himself appear within the long line. 

It was swift like a bird but the silence it had was like a shadow in the night. Not even the guards who were trained harshly by Lord Tyrus nor the man who stood with his steed that was clearly an expert, sensed his entrance.

"27...the number was 27...."

He whispered as he took an object from within the rags that he wore.

"The goddess Mayari truly loved them. But, even gods could not love all equally. If they can't, how can't men, can?"

The man whispered in a low tone as the line slowly advancing towards the end.

"Ahh...my goddess Mayari. Choosing one from many, the prime of 27. Even so, all are considered your beloved. Yet, you chose this child from the many. Truly truly..."

As if in a trance, that man sang those words like a poet.

"The moon conceals the sky. The sun radiates the heavens. The heavens is the sky."

As he said those words, the man appeared at the end of the line. In his hand, was a black box. The box appeared crude and ancient. Several dusts and spider webs were seen covering the box. Yet, there was something unnatural about that box. 

As the man raised his head and gazed at the sky, he murmured, "Soon, the moon shall rule."

A few breaths has passed and the bustling line continued. 

There was no trace of that man who held the black box. Likewise, they was no trace of that crude and ancient object. It was as if everything was an illusion. No one had known the existence of that enigma. 

But, from within the gifts piled like a mountain, a shadow lurked from its depths. 

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