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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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Basileios of Macedonia.
Emperor Michael’s longtime friend, political ally. Adopted son.
“His Majesty has always enjoyed boisterous revelry. Perhaps that’s why he has so many followers. Like Basiliskianos over there.”
Following Basileios’s gesture as he subtly raised his cup to his lips, I saw the soon-to-be Caesar, Basiliskianos, struggling to keep up with the emperor’s pace, raising his cup with difficulty.
“Sometimes, I reminisce about days gone by. His Majesty is still the same as he was back then, raising his cup. But I’ve reached an age where the passage of time is keenly felt…”
Lies.
For an old man’s lament, the power in his eyes screamed the opposite. Should I play along?
“What weak words are these, coming from the commander who wielded the cavalry of the left flank as if they were his own limbs?”
I didn’t know much about the corruption of Rome, but political maneuvering alone wasn’t enough for a soldier of peasant origins to rise to the position of co-emperor. Basileios was also an unparalleled cavalry commander… I had heard that in his younger days, he had displayed his valor by personally clashing swords with Bulgarian soldiers. His seemingly weak words were nothing more than humble bragging.
“Hahaha! I am overjoyed to receive such praise from one who should be compared to the heroes of legends.”
Basileios, laughing heartily, raised his cup, and I followed suit.
Servants, waiting nearby, approached and refilled our cups with wine as we emptied them in one gulp.
[Glug glug glug-]
“It’s truly delicious. I never tire of the wine from Bithynia.”
Basileios swirled his cup, examining its contents. The wine reflected in his eyes was a crimson red, like blood.
“Oh dear, I apologize if my old man’s rambling has disturbed your enjoyment, young hero. I must excuse myself now, Konungr Helgi.”
I rose from my seat to see off Basileios, who was asking for my understanding. He smiled and nodded.
“Your words alone warm my heart, Konungr. I will retire now as my body is weary, let us meet again later.”
“Then I shall await your return.”
Basileios bowed politely with a pleasant expression and turned away.
The sound of Michael’s boisterous laughter and the sight of Basileios quietly exiting the tent intersected, with me in between.
POV SWITCH
The banquet, filled with the joy and celebration of victory, ended. As the dark night deepened, the torches scattered around couldn’t fully dispel the surrounding darkness.
Clouds gathered, obscuring even the moonlight. Figures moved like cats through the space.
[Thud! Gasp-!]
The relatively small palace of Cyzicus.
Two of the emperor’s guards, their vigilance lowered by the wild revelry just hours ago, were stabbed in the lungs from behind, unable to make a sound.
“Gurk… Ugh…”
“Gah… Gah… Betray… al…”
Even sounds required air to be produced. The fallen men, writhing in agony from the sharp blades piercing their insides, would never rise again. The perpetrators of this gruesome deed in the darkness seemed to have lost all traces of compassion.
“Are you certain the emperor’s chambers are empty?”
“Yes. I saw Rentakios being carried away drunk, so there can’t be more than thirty men left.”
“Good. Let’s move quickly. Kill anyone who gets in our way.”
“Yes, Marinos.”
After their brief, chilling exchange, the intruders confidently advanced towards the emperor’s quarters, where most of the guards were stumbling around drunk.
“Wh-what!? Who are you?!”
“Doesn’t matter. Attack!”
[Clang! Clang! Thud! Thud thud!]
“Gah!”
The skill of the imperial guards was undeniable, but even they had their limits. They were overwhelmed by the sheer number of assassins, two or three attacking each guard.
“This room?”
“Cleared. The emperor is not here.”
“That one?”
[Aaaaagh! Assassin…! Assassins…! Gurgle…!]
“I’ll check.”
The assassins, boldly lighting torches and illuminating the dark interior of the building, meticulously searched each room, killing everyone inside.
Finally, having killed all the drunken men, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake, the assassins were stopped by less than twenty guards in white cloaks.
At this point,
there were no exchanges like “Who are you?!” “Do you know where you are?!” “Make way!” Working in the heart of the Roman Empire meant being prepared to face such situations at any time.
The only important thing was a simple question: are you prepared to honor your oaths, no matter the circumstances? Or not?
There was no need for conversation between those who had abandoned their oaths and those who intended to uphold them.
“Marinos, stop.”
As tension peaked and the smell of blood grew thicker, a calm yet charged voice echoed from behind, stopping both the excited assassins and the resolute guards.
“Your Majesty.”
Marinos, the leader of the assassins, who had parted to make way for the approaching figure, bowed deeply.
“Well done, Marinos. My brother. Where is His Majesty the Emperor?”
The man who had taken control of the space, thick with the suffocating stench and aura of death, with a single word.
Co-emperor Basileios. Marinos’s eyes, fixed on him, held a chilling coldness.
“We captured and interrogated the servants. There’s no escape route. He hasn’t shown his face so far, so he must be right here.”
“I see. So, even in this situation… he hasn’t shown his face, even after drinking so much.”
Basileios’s words, spoken as a lament, were laced with deep emotions. Complex emotions only he could understand.
“Scholae, make your decision. Will you block my path, or will you open it?”
But as if such complex emotions were a luxury at this moment, Basileios quickly regained his composure and urged the resolute guards to make a ruthless decision.
“Symbasileis Basileios, I do not understand why you are doing this, after achieving all the glory one could possibly attain. But you know better than anyone that the Scholae serve the emperor, they do not betray him.”
Not everyone succumbed to fear in the face of death. The Scholae standing their ground were truly resolute. Men of honor.
Even Basileios, who had abandoned his honor, couldn’t help but admire their resolve. But as always, personal feelings were separate from the duties of a leader. Basileios issued his final command.
“Then do what you must. I will do what I must. Ioannes, open the way.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
[Clank. Clank.]
The sound of heavy armor shifting came from behind Basileios, and a massive figure slowly stepped forward.
His sword and shield were larger than those of others, and his armor and helmet, stained with blood, instilled fear in those who watched. But the captain of the Scholae did not flinch.
“Scholae! Protect His Majesty!”
“Protect His Majesty!”
The Scholae formed a defensive formation, and Basileios watched them silently. Just as the giant, Ioannes, took a step forward,
Suddenly.
A man emerged from the dark inner chamber behind the Scholae.
“Co-emperor Basileios. I did say I was waiting, but I didn’t expect you so soon.”
As the figure in the darkness, who had spoken in a gentle tone that contrasted with the tense atmosphere, stepped into the torchlight held by the rebels,
the nerves of every Roman in the room were on edge.
The primal fear that grips a person when encountering a predator at the top of the natural hierarchy, like a tiger or a bear.
Limbs become unresponsive, pupils dilate, and a dry lump forms in the throat.
In this place, filled with warriors who knew this feeling all too well, where betrayal was unfolding, even the Scholae and assassins, who had already accepted death, felt a different kind of fear.
“Konungr Helgi…”
“Heracles…”
“The Satan of Adramyttion…”
The guards, who had witnessed his feats with their own eyes, were surprised by his unexpected appearance, but they only watched warily, unable to raise their spears.
Basileios’s assassins, who had only heard rumors of the foreign king’s prowess, dismissed their instincts, which were screaming warnings, as if it were nothing more than the addition of a strong warrior.
“Konungr Helgi. I heard you drank the cup my servant offered… You have a much higher tolerance than I thought.”
Basileios spoke casually, but Marinos, who had known him for a long time, noticed his unease.
“Your prank was a bit much, Basileios. Thanks to you, I slept quite well. It’s been a while since I slept so soundly. Thank you for the gift.”
Huh-.
Basileios chuckled at the foreign king’s nonchalant words.
“Even if you are strong, you are still human. That poison should have kept you bedridden for at least three days. Did my servant betray me? Or… did you actually withstand it?”
Hahaha-.
Their gazes, locked on each other, didn’t waver for a moment, even amidst their casual conversation and hearty laughter.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now… Konungr Helgi. With all due respect, do not interfere in the affairs of Rome any further. You do not understand why things have come to this.”
“Basileios…!”
“Quiet. Stay still, Marinos.”
Marinos, who had never seen his brother plead with anyone like this, was startled, but quickly silenced by Basileios’s forceful demeanor.
Helgi Ragnarsson, at the receiving end of Basileios’s gaze, thought for a moment, glanced at the inner chamber behind him, and then fixed his green eyes, which seemed to glow in the darkness, on Basileios.
“Listen, Basileios. This is not a matter between Romans and Northmen. It’s something more personal.”
A refined yet inherently savage and fierce aura emanated from Helgi Ragnarsson as he silently reached for the hand axe at his waist.
“I, Helgi Ragnarsson, am not one to abandon a comrade who has shed blood with me.”
[Step. Step.]
The Northmen warrior walked through the white-cloaked guards and stood at the front of the emperor’s guard. Ioannes, Basileios’s warrior, blocked his path.
“So, that’s how it is. This could have all ended if you had simply closed your eyes for a moment. A pity, Konungr Helgi.”
“Scholae, do you still have the strength to fight?!”
After Basileios finished speaking, Helgi, who had been watching the slowly approaching assassins, addressed the emperor’s guard, the Scholae.
“Of course…! Archon Helgi!”
“We will fight to our last breath…!”
“Good.”
Helgi nodded once, confirming their resolute voices, and took a deep breath.
[Fwoo-]
His chest expanded, filled with air. He gathered his strength from his core, channeling it into his breath, expelling it forcefully from his chest, through his throat,
“Hel- – ! La- – -!”
[Whoosh-! Raa-! Raa-! Raa…!]
“Ugh!”
A monstrous roar erupted from Helgi’s mouth, resonating throughout the space with a force that threatened to shatter the eardrums of those nearby. At that moment, as Ioannes, approaching with his shield raised, flinched and momentarily recoiled,
[Dash-! Crash-!]
“Gah!”
Helgi, springing forward like a bullet, kicked Ioannes’s shield away, and the Scholae charged at the assassins in unison.
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