The conflict has finally reached its denouement, and triumph decisively belongs to Prince Armad, the King Armad. In the wake of his victory, his fame and virtue are set to spread across the land, heralding a new era of peace and prosperity for the region. His singular prowess in battle has led to the subjugation of the nine towns that once encircled his domain. By his hand alone, the formidable King's Legion was compelled to a hasty and ignominious retreat. By his strength and strategy, the wild tribes, whose presence had long been a bane to the ten towns of this area, were decisively defeated.
The days before King Armad's rule were fraught with peril for the common folk. Those who dared to travel from one forested township to another were forced to pay tribute to the wild tribes. Any who could not pay were ruthlessly stripped of their belongings. With King Armad's victory in the battle against the wild people, he cleared the forests of their menace. He then boldly confronted the monarchs of the nine towns that sought to overthrow his seat, and in the end, he scattered the King's Legion that had bolstered those monarchs' forces.
Of the nine kings who reigned when Armad first set foot in this region a year prior, only King Konfot has been spared to see another day. This act of clemency was not a product of Armad's indifference but rather a gesture of respect towards Commander Silaini, whose pleadings on behalf of King Konfot stayed Armad's hand. Were it not for this intervention, King Konfot's fate would have been sealed in the same manner as his fellow monarchs.
The aftermath of the battle presented the people of Tiriba with a grim task. For three full days, the sky was darkened with the smoke from the funeral pyres as they disposed of the enemy's dead. The sheer volume of the dead was such that the land could not accommodate their burial. In line with King Armad's edicts, the land was not to be tainted by the burial of these foes. The townspeople, therefore, carried the fallen to the forest, where they were set ablaze, to cleanse their presence from the land.
Most bewildering, however, was the advice given to Armad by the mysterious system, which advocated for the consumption of the fallen enemies, claiming that their bodies harbored exceptional substances. This recommendation became particularly insistent when Armad approached the cadaver of the King of Fida and three other notable figures. Despite the system's assurances, Armad could not entertain the notion. His honor, and that of his family—spanning back to his great grandparents—is untouched by the stain of cannibalism. It is a matter of public record and common knowledge that, though the wild folk were known for their brutality, they, like Armad and his ancestors, did not resort to consuming human flesh. This principle held steadfast in Armad's heart, unshaken by the passage of time or the system's peculiar counsel.
The most reprehensible individuals are those who consume the flesh of their kind. This act, abhorrent in human society, is not even a common occurrence among animals. Armad, faced with this moral dilemma, staunchly refuses to partake in the consumption of human flesh, even if it would potentially enhance his cultivation abilities. No matter how persistently the system attempts to seduce him with the promise of power, Armad remains steadfast in his conviction. He will not allow himself to be swayed by the argument that the flesh of his fallen adversaries contains a potent substance beneficial for his cultivation. Armad is convinced that there are more honorable ways to achieve the same end.
Despite some initial trepidation regarding his decision to forego this dark path and instruct his people to incinerate the corpses of the humans they had slain, Armad finds solace in his steadfastness. He contemplates the future implications of such cannibalistic practices. If he were to succumb to this barbaric means of increasing his cultivation, what monstrosities might he become capable of in the future? Would he not just become a mirror image of those he currently strives to eliminate? Armad fears that this slippery slope could lead him to commit the same atrocities inflicted upon him by his enemies. In such a future, he might lose all moral boundaries in the relentless pursuit of power.
The prospect of becoming what he abhors is intolerable to Armad, not least because of the memory of his late mother. He imagines her reincarnation into this world and the immense sorrow she would feel seeing her son on such a path. It is this thought that reinforces Armad’s decision to ignore the system’s ominous guidance, providing him with a sense of pride in his moral fortitude.
The town of Tiriba has been in a flurry of activity over the past three days. The focus has not been solely on the grim task of burning the dead; Armad has also taken proactive measures to restore the town’s defenses. He has called upon skilled cultivators with the power to command earth-bending demons, assigning them the crucial task of reconstructing the town’s battered walls.
In his quest to ensure the future safety of Tiriba, Armad consults the system about a substance that could be used to strengthen the town’s fortifications, rendering them impervious to future assaults. However, the system’s response is disheartening—it confirms that Armad has neither ingested such a substance nor possesses the ability to synthesize a pill from it. In the system’s voice, Armad perceives an undercurrent of worry and irritation, but he opts not to delve into the reasons behind it. He intuitively understands the system’s concerns and decides to dismiss them.
One of the key actions Armad did over the last three days was the interrogation of King Konfot, which he conducted with the assistance of Commander Silaini. This was a crucial step in understanding the motives and strategies of their adversaries.
Beyond intelligence gathering, the logistics of the spoils of war were handled with remarkable efficiency. The judge assigned to the task focused on cataloging the numerous items and riches they had acquired from the confrontation. The defeated battalion, comprising over 40,000 soldiers from nine towns, had in their possession a wealth of artifacts, many of which held significant value.
While the arrows and spears from the battle were no longer usable in their current state, the foresight to reclaim the metals was a testament to their resourcefulness. By melting down the damaged weaponry, they realized they had collected a vast quantity of metal. This bounty was so immense that it was estimated a single metal foundry would require more than five years to produce a similar amount. Such a cache was not only a testament to their victory but also a valuable resource that could potentially be sold at a premium or reforged into new armaments for future engagements.
The spoils extended beyond mere metals, with the discovery of magical bags among the most notable. Within these 45 million Airids. It was clear that these were no ordinary Airids as they were distinct from those carried by the rank-and-file soldiers. The magical bags of the kings contained Airids of higher levels, with one bag revealing level 7 Airids, and others containing levels 6 and 5. Additionally, the bags were found to contain cultivation artifacts, seals, and spells that were of particular interest. One such bag, presumed to belong to the King of Fida, contained 17 seals with the power to awaken one’s cultivation. Armad, who was well-acquainted with the importance of these seals, was taken aback by the discovery. Coming from the capital city himself, he only had 100 of these seals, which made the presence of 17 in the hands of a rural king all the more remarkable. However, Armad chose not to dwell on the methods by which the king had acquired these seals, focusing instead on the implications of their existence.
As the spoils were being cataloged, Armad was already planning the next move. Two days into the recovery process, he gave orders to Commander Silaini and a select group of five captains from his battalion to track down the remnants of the king’s legion. Their primary target was Commander Kisa, who had been gravely wounded in the battle. Kisa’s condition was such that his recovery was expected to take no less than two years—a fact that severely limited his ability to travel and lead. The journey from their current location to the capital city of Wilberforce was a formidable one, and with his severe injuries, it was highly unlikely Kisa could make the trip. Thus, their best estimation was that Kisa would seek refuge to tend to his wounds. Armad’s directive was clear: locate Kisa before he could find sanctuary and potentially rally his forces once more.
With the injuries Commander Kisa sustaining, commander Silaini, along with a contingent of the five captains, is well-positioned to pursue and ultimately locate his hiding place. The pursuit is particularly promising given that Commander Silaini and his team are privy to the true nature of Commander Kisa’s spiritual sense. Should they succeed in capturing Commander Kisa, they intend to exploit his capture as a means to draw out and apprehend his remaining associates, even if they are not currently in his company.
Armad, along with Commander Silaini and the judge, has carefully deliberated the situation and reached a grim verdict regarding Commander Kisa and his followers: there is no path for them to return to the capital, Wilberforce. It is presumed that the fugitives have designated a secret assembly point where they plan to regroup following their retreat from the battlefield. By deducing this location, Commander Silaini hopes to orchestrate a mass arrest, seizing them all in a single strategic operation.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Initially eager to join the hunt, Armad expressed his desire to accompany Commander Silaini. However, after an intense and prolonged debate, he was persuaded by the commander and the judge's advisor that his responsibilities lay elsewhere. They convinced him that his presence was critical in the town, where he should focus on maintaining order and extending their influence over the nine towns they were attempting to annex. The advisor emphasized that Prince Armad had been granted an unforeseen opportunity to expand his power, an opportunity that had not been anticipated by any. With the nine towns under his control, the path toward erecting an empire seems less daunting for Armad.
On the third day following the aftermath of the battle, Prince Armad prepared for departure. He saddled his horse and, flanked by a retinue of ten devas, left five of their number to secure the towns in their absence. Together with the king, he embarked on a journey to the town of King Konfot. Intelligence gathered suggested that the wealth accumulated from the natural resources and treasure troves of these towns would greatly exceed the gains made on the battlefield. Every king and noble involved in the conflict had not fathomed the possibility of not returning to their homelands, which is why they had not depleted any of their amassed wealth. As a result, they had left everything—family, children, spouses, and councils—behind in their homes.
Before Armad awoke the power of his Pol string, it could be argued that he lacked the fortitude to encroach upon these towns. This hesitation stemmed from the fact that rumors of their kings’ deaths in battle had already permeated the towns’ walls, leading to a lockdown of their defenses. In this period of uncertainty, the townsfolk were desperately sending out letters, pleading for help from their allies in neighboring towns. However, they were acutely aware of the logistical nightmare that awaited them; the time required for their allies to rally their forces and march to their aid was indeterminate, potentially spanning days, weeks, or even months.
The difficulty of intercontinental travel, despite the era’s advanced transportation technology, cannot be overstressed. Complicating matters further are the stringent regulations that dissuade continents from meddling in each other’s internal conflicts. Moreover, the willingness of allies from distant lands to intervene is not guaranteed; they would first consider what gains could be made from such an intervention. All these factors suggest that any external assistance would be significantly delayed if it came at all.
Armad, however, was not inclined to grant them this opportunity. By swiftly bringing the towns under his sway, he would discourage any potential aggression from their former allies, who would now have to reconsider their stance in light of the new power dynamics.
In the days following the battle, Armad led a contingent of 500 soldiers from his original legion of 2000 to reinforce his position. The battle had been costly; an estimated 600 soldiers from his legion had fallen. Initially, Armad’s battalion had been an imposing force of 5,000 plus some additional troops. After the harsh realities of war, their numbers had dwindled to no more than 2,500. A significant number of the deceased were townsmen who, in the eleventh hour, had thrown in their lot with Armad. The troops from Ai also suffered grievously, with over 400 soldiers meeting their end.
Despite the heavy losses, Armad was determined to honor the fallen. He had promptly decreed that the 45 million Airids found in the aftermath of the battle would be equitably distributed among the bereaved families, ensuring that the soldiers did not die in vain. He abstained from claiming any of the currency for himself, as there were other valuable spoils yet to be seized.
Nusi, too, accompanies Armad on this critical venture. With only five devas and the judge remaining to secure the town, the absence of additional power cultivators was conspicuous. Armad was acutely aware of the risks associated with this decision; yet, he concluded that the presence of the powerful cultivators at his side was indispensable for the success of his campaign. Granting the towns additional time to bolster their defenses and possibly mount a counter-offensive was a risk he was unwilling to take.
Since he annihilated their entire battalion on the battlefield, leaving no soldiers of the towns to defend their homes, Armad perceived this as the ideal time to assert his dominance over these defenseless towns. He understood with a clarity borne of experience that hesitation would only invite intervention from the allies of these townspeople from distant continents who had been receiving desperate pleas for assistance. If these allies arrived in time, they might not only foil his plans but also potentially attack his stronghold of Tiriba as a preemptive measure. Determined to forestall such an outcome, Armad prepared to execute his conquest with urgency and return posthaste to the safety of Tiriba.
With this sense of urgency driving them, Armad and his battalion advanced toward the towns with relentless speed. Their horses charged across the terrain, their hooves drumming a relentless rhythm that echoed in the air, signaling their approach from afar.
At the forefront of this formidable procession was King Konfot, once a powerful ruler, now reduced to a captive. Shackles bound his wrists and ankles, and around his neck hung a white amulet, its purpose to bind and nullify the power of the demon within him. King Konfot was mounted on a horse that led the battalion, and he was closely guarded by two soldiers, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any sign of threat. The journey to King Konfot’s town, the nearest to Tiriba, spanned one and a half days, a testament to the swift and unyielding pace set by Armad’s forces.
It was either a stroke of luck or an inescapable twist of fate that King Konfot was the last of the nine kings to survive the onslaught unleashed by Armad. This lone survival may have been an unforeseen variable in the grand scheme of the conflict, one that could alter the balance of power in unforeseen ways.
As they neared the town, it was evident that it was sealed tightly against invaders. The town walls bristled with archers, their weapons trained on the advancing forces. Each bow was tensed, and each spear was ready to fly at the slightest provocation. Through a loudspeaker, an announcer’s voice boomed a stern warning: “Stand right where you are. Take even a single step further, and the consequences are on your heads.” Despite his attempts to project confidence and rigor, a quiver in his voice cut through, revealing the underlying fear that gripped him—a fear that perhaps gripped the entire town in the face of this impending threat.
Armad, unshaken, assessed the announcer with a practiced eye. He could tell that the man was only at the core formation level of cultivation, not yet having reached the peak of the level. With less than 6,800 years of cultivation, he was still considered young in the grander scope of their world’s measure of power. The soldiers accompanying him didn’t even match this modest level of power. This observation led Armad to surmise that in their desperate attempt to overthrow Tiriba, the kings had called forth all their elite cultivators to battle, leaving their defenses weakened—an error that had catastrophic consequences.
With the scene set and both sides facing each other across the divide, Armad made a calculated move. He looked directly at the bound figure of King Konfot, then raised his voice to address the tense defenders. His question, posed with an eerie serenity that contrasted sharply with the charged atmosphere, cut through the distance: “Do you recognize this man?”
The announcer and the soldiers perched atop the battlements all shared a common expression—a furrowed brow etched with concern as they gazed upon their king, ignominiously bound upon a horse below them. His visage was marred with blood, though strategic swipes had cleared some regions, enabling his subjects to recognize their sovereign despite his disheveled state. His eyes, once a source of regal authority, now averted the gazes of his loyal followers, and even a cursory glance would reveal that the spark of courage that once ignited his rule had been extinguished.
Gone was the crown that had graced his head, symbolizing his dominion and divine right. In its stead, there was nothing but the open sky—a testament to his fall from grace. The opulent robes that had once draped his form were now replaced by a tattered cloth, serving as a mere token of modesty that covered only what was necessary to shield him from complete exposure. His once-hidden corpulence was now on full display, and his hair, normally coifed and pristine, was now a tangled mess, coated with the grime of his ordeal.
Despite the degradation of their once magnificent ruler, the people on the walls knew that he remained their king. With sorrow and confusion swirling in their hearts, they recognized him, and the gravity of his plight began to dawn upon them. Their initial shock gave way to an instinctive reverence, and as one, they knelt, their voices rising in a chorus of loyalty: “Long live Your Highness!”
Yet not all were content with silent veneration. Some turned their eyes, ablaze with anger, toward Armad and his troops, the architects of their king’s humiliation. They itched to voice their scorn, to cast curses upon these interlopers. However, a gripping fear stayed their tongues. They knew, as only those touched by the perils of cultivation could know, that to speak ill of those who had ensnared their king was to court a swift and lethal retribution. This intuitive sense of peril, honed through their esoteric practices, warned them of the latent danger, invisible to the eye yet palpable to the soul.
The silence that followed was heavy with tension until, at last, the announcer found the courage to break it. His voice, though shaky with trepidation, carried the weight of his people’s desperation: “What is it that you want? Release His Highness! Release the great King Konfot. Whatever your demands, we shall fulfill them.”
Armad’s expression twisted into one of incredulity as he observed the announcer before him. It wasn’t merely the quiver in the announcer’s voice that caught Armad’s attention; it was the sheer audacity of the condition he dared to propose. Despite occupying a humble position at the core formation level, the announcer seemed to harbor delusions of grandeur, believing himself entitled to dictate terms for the release of his captured king. This king, once revered as a deva among men, now found himself at the mercy of his captors, while his loyal servant, the announcer, sought to wield influence far beyond his station.
Without another word, Armad turned his attention to Nusi. She understood the unspoken command in his eyes, and with a determined nod, she advanced to take her place at the forefront of the unfolding drama, ready to address the situation with the authority that the moment demanded.