“The amalgamation of people with common descent and characteristics are a nation. At least, that’s what they said. It is built upon a long-standing hierarchy that would increase the effectiveness and efficiency of the people. Well, that’s what they said. At the top of hierarchy lies the king, an all-powerful monarch that would lead the nation. And, that’s what they said. The people are obliged to obey the king as it is he that fights for our interests. But, that’s what they said. However, everything they said had always been lies. All lies.

              “If the nation is just an amalgamation of people, would it not just be a pile of human trash? Also, the hierarchy placed upon the people is awful. Absolutely awful! If you went to a noble’s designated land, you’d just see a bunch of serfs being abused by the horrid system. As for their ‘masters’? They just sit on their assess, wasting the money that was earned by their so called ‘workers’. And the king! That goddamned prick that sits on his blood-stained throne posing to be a ruler. He’s absolutely useless! What had he ever done to help the less fortunate? Absolutely nothing!”

              Right now, I was teaching the kids a valuable lesson on anarchism. They really needed a thing that they could direct their childish passions towards. I wouldn’t let them dream of being noble trash; I wanted them to be better. That’s why I was teaching these snot-faced rejects a lesson on anarchism. But so far, I saw that my efforts were for naught. Instead of listening to my wisdom, these dumb babies decided that it was better to smack each other’s butts.

              “ARE YOU LISTENING?!” My voice boomed. If there was one I really hated, then it was definitely people not listening to me. Luckily, my trusty yell always fixed that. “YOU!” I shouted, pointing my finger towards a thin boy wearing rags. “REPEAT WHAT I JUST SAID!”

              The thin boy looked at me and gave me this rather disconcerting stare. It was awkward, to say the least, but I didn’t falter and stood my ground. I stared back at him with the force of a thousand tonnes. Hahaha! You can’t defeat me, child. In an in an instant, my vision blurred. Huh? When I regained my sight, I noticed that my eyes were looking at the great sky instead of the thin boy. Wondering what happened, I put a hand on my forehead. Surprisingly, it was wet. Weird, never thought I’d be sweating this much. Then I looked at the palm that touched my forehead. It was red. Oh, it’s blood.

              With a grunt, I got up with some difficulty, spitting out curses as I did. When I got back up, I noticed that all my ‘pupils’ were gone. Ay, kids these days don’t appreciate the work us adults do… I gave out a hefty sigh. Then, I inhaled sharply, only for me to sigh again. “I’m really getting old,” I lamented. If it was I was in my prime, those kids would have been chopped in half by me, I thought. Of course, if I did, I’d meet the lovely Death herself way sooner than when I planned to with the help of the gallows.

              Again, I inhaled deeply. I kept the air inside with the intention of keeping it there for as long as possible. For a couple of seconds, I was fine. Then of course, my lungs started to feel like caving in. With a red face, I opened my mouth. Instead of exhaling, I yelled out, “I HATE THE NOBLES! I HATE THE KING! I HATE THIS WRETCHED LAND!”

              After my sudden declaration, the world turned silent. Everything stopped. The animals that were here earlier disappeared, their trails signifying a hasty escape. The gust that was blowing quieted down into a gentle yet chilly breeze. All was silent.

                                  *** *** ***

              Ah, my dear ‘loyal’ officials and subjects, please royally piss off.

              In front of me was, once again, a bunch of my officials sitting on a round table. Yes, it was a continuation of the meeting before. I looked at each of them and noticed something that brought me tons of internal pain. Compared to before, somehow there were a lot more papers on the table. I really wanted to ask how that happened in such a short amount of time, but I doubted that anyone would frankly tell me what happened. At best, they’d only beat around the bush for half an hour; at worst, they would go on till dusk.

              After everyone settled down and sat on their respective seats, I cleared my throat because it was quite itchy. However, that seemed to have been some kind of signal for them as they all stared at me, causing me to feel pretty awkward. Compared to the last time, their gazes seemed even more morose. Already, I foresaw an ill omen. Can’t be that bad, can it? No, right? Surely… Oh god, oh god, of god! It’s serious, isn’t it?!

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              Preparing myself for the worst, my mouth opened to speak. “Speak,” I ordered with my signature octave-lower-than-the-norm voice, barely masking my anxiety with the bravery befitting of a king. Of course, that so called bravery was fake. Like hell would I (willingly) be an idiot that rushes into danger. One of my elderly officials cleared his throat, bringing all the attention towards him. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Please, dear lord, don’t make it serious. “Milord,” he said, pausing a bit as if to keep me in suspense. Oy, oy, oy, wanna get fired? Just say it! “The Rebel Trials have been activated.”

              My face froze. The inner workings of my brain were still comprehending what the guy said. In my mind, I was wondering why I didn’t feel anything at all when the Rebel Trials started. Then, I remembered the odd feeling I ignored when I was still in bed. Oh god damn it. It seemed that my lazy attitude had put off something rather important. Honestly, I was prepared to take the blame if I was actually blamed. Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone with the guts to talk back to their king.

              “Give me the information on the rebel,” demanded I, my mood sinking like an anvil in the sea. Inwardly, I hoped that the rebel was far away. I really didn’t want to deal with another Arva the Scourge or anything like that. But I knew that since I felt it, he was probably near. Near-ish at best. Ignoring my inner musings like usual, my dear elderly official listed the basic information I wanted.

              So! Basic information… The rebel was an old man. Good, now die of old age. The name was Mikhail Ivlanovich. Cool, he’s from the Pope’s country. It was then I stopped listening to what my official was saying. It just went through my mind that since he was from the Pope’s country, he was also very near. My agony reached its peak but I still hid it perfectly.

              “M-milord?” The one who was talking looked at me with this worried face. I stared at his charcoal black eyes and noticed a trace of fear in it. I started to wonder why he was afraid. Maybe, just maybe, if he controlled his emotions, he’d be a good king like me. Or so I thought. Though that thought only lasted for a single moment before I said, “Continue.”

              Then, the meeting was resumed. This time, I remembered to properly finish listening to the reports before adjourning the meeting.

                                  *** *** ***

              “What the…” After my little ‘episode’, as I liked to call it, I was thrown into the pains of the language barrier. After getting off the carriage, we, the old could-be-brother of the scary Russian and I, found ourselves in front of this rather majestic looking building. Oddly enough, it looked like a Victorian-era castle. The scratched brown stone walls made up most of the house, though tons of meter-high windows were apparent; all in all, it seemed like it was about 3-4 storeys tall. There was a rather high-ceilinged porch at the front and it was empty. As for the roof, I only saw the edge of it and saw it was red and possibly tiled or something.

              “%#$@” the could-be-brother Russian voiced some incorrigible nonsense. I already gave up on trying to understand what he said so I just ignored him and walked towards the front door which was on the porch. As I put my foot on the steps, a hand grabbed my arm from behind. I looked back to see who it was and contrary to my expectations, it wasn’t an angry could-be-brother Russian that stopped me. No, it was a cosplayer wearing medieval plate armour. Where’d you come from? Already, a migraine popped up. Ever since my encounter with that psycho cosplayer, I now looked at cosplayers in a negative light; especially knight cosplayers.

              My first plan of action was to check if he had a sword. He has… Then, I checked whether he had a frown on his face. He has… Then, I checked whether he could understand English by saying, “Yo, my pal!” His expression changed, for sure, but it was for the worse. The eyes that stared daggers at me previously were now staring lightsabers at me, figuratively of course. Ain’t no way he was a Jedi. Not that a Jedi shot lightsabers out of his—or her—eyes.

              In the corner of my eye, I noticed a red faced could-be-brother Russian rushing towards the guard and I. After what seemed like eternity, Mr. Could-be-brother Russian finally reached us. Didn’t really matter though as I thought that I already died of waiting. Thank goodness that we drove a carriage here, otherwise the could-be-brother Russian would have only reached the place when the Fourth Reich was born.

              Panting, Mr. Could-be-brother Russian took out a rolled piece of paper from his robe. He gave it to the not-Jedi that heard him coming and waited for him for a long time. After unrolling the paper and presumably reading what’s in it, he passed it back to the could-be-brother Russian with a scowl on him face. The not-Jedi let go of my arm and retreated somewhere. Funnily enough, he disappeared like magic. Or should I say, like a Jedi?

              Seeing that no one was stopping me anymore, I continued to climb the steps of the porch while ignoring the wheezing could-be-brother Russian. Stop for him? No way. It would’ve taken a thousand years if I stopped for him. Then, I reached the front door and placed my hands on it’s plain brass handle. To say the truth, I was scared. Thoughts like ‘What happens if I can’t understand anyone?’ or ‘Are they psychos too?” stopped me from twisting the knob.

              Ah, whatever… With that thought, I entered, giving no heed to the warning bells blaring in my head.