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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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Back when I was with the Black Eagle Mercenary Group, I had seen the Emperor once. He was on an inspection tour, and I saw him from a distance. He was in his magnificent robes, surrounded by dozens of knights, walking through the desolate garrison near the Wall.
My first impression was, “What a farce.” And it was true. The garrison commander and the mercenary captain practically groveled at his feet, but the Emperor didn’t even glance at them.
He wasn’t concerned about our welfare or the state of the mercenary group. This inspection was just a show, a way to create the image of an Emperor who cared about his people, even in the harshest of conditions.
You know, like when a presidential candidate visits a traditional market or eats a bowl of pork and rice soup. It was that kind of thing.
The only good thing about his visit was that we got to eat real meat instead of the usual bland porridge. For one day. The next day, we were thrown back into the hellscape beyond the Wall. It was freezing.
“….”
I’m telling you this because, eight years later, the Emperor, Volagio Septimius III, or Volagio III, hadn’t changed at all.
“Sir Elliot, your bow!”
Evangeline whispered frantically, but I didn’t bow. I didn’t want to. I was exhausted. The hero’s inauguration ceremony… the procession had been a nightmare, the crowd so thick that I felt like I was going to suffocate. And now, here I was, in the Imperial Palace, at the Emperor’s request for a private audience.
The Emperor was sitting on his throne, his posture relaxed, looking at me.
“There’s no need for that. He doesn’t seem to want to.”
The Emperor waved his hand, dismissing Evangeline. We were finally alone. He stared at me, his pale pupils gleaming.
“Elliot, the hero.”
“Yes.”
“You have a fierce look in your eyes. Have I offended you in some way?”
“No. It’s just… my usual expression.”
My reply was a bit curt, but the Emperor didn’t seem to mind.
“Yes. I’ve heard you were with the Black Eagle Mercenary Group.”
“That’s right.”
“The men from there… they don’t like the Empire. Are you the same?”
“Can I be honest?”
“Yes.”
“I hate it.”
“Haha.”
He had immense authority, but he didn’t wield it. He looked at me not with awe or respect, but as if he had found a useful tool. In a way, he was similar to the Pope. That’s probably why he was the ruler of this vast Empire. And that’s why I had to be wary of him.
“Are you going to defeat the Demon King?”
“That’s the one thing I’m certain of.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll inform the Sword Saint and the Archmage. They will provide you with their full support.”
“Yes.”
“Well, you can leave now, but… I’ll have a photographer take a picture of us. For propaganda purposes. I hope you understand.”
The Emperor was supporting me because I was the hero who would defeat the Demon King. In other words, a hero without a Demon King to defeat would be a nuisance to the Empire.
I had no intention of being a disposable pawn. I decided then and there that my future home with Ophelia would not be in the Empire.
“This way, please.”
A servant entered the room. The rest was a blur. The Emperor, sensing my displeasure, rushed through the formalities. The ceremony, which was supposed to last for days, was over in half a day, and I was practically kicked out of the Imperial Palace.
“That was… anticlimactic. I was expecting a grand banquet.”
Ophelia, who had been waiting for me outside, muttered, fiddling with her hairpin.
“He probably would have, if I had asked.”
“So, what’s the Emperor like? I didn’t get to see him.”
“Well…”
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
“Better than the Pope.”
That was the truth.
The next day, I prepared to leave the capital. I didn’t have much luggage. Just a single backpack. It was a rather humble start for a hero’s journey.
“So, are we heading to the Ice Palace now? To defeat that Plague Lord?”
“That’s the plan, but it would be better not to go directly.”
“Why?”
Erwin answered Ophelia’s question.
“We have to go through the Great Forest.”
Erwin was with Uthmund.
“The Sword Saint, the Archmage’s apprentice, and the Golden Lion are coming with us, but I was sent here as a representative of the Elven King. I need his permission to join you.”
“Hmm…”
“In other words, we’re going to get the Elven King’s permission.”
I also planned to visit Nua Dhil. Titania, the dark shaman, was there. Her personality was… difficult, but the more companions, the better.
“It’s fine, Ophelia. We’ll all be going to the Great Forest together, so you don’t have to worry about bugs or anything.”
“U-um…”
But that wasn’t what Ophelia was worried about. Her gaze was fixed on Erwin. They had fought a few weeks ago. The atmosphere was still tense. Erwin smiled warmly. Ophelia finally, reluctantly, nodded.
“Okay…”
A significant improvement.
The Emperor’s promise of “full support” was genuine. The Archmage had cast a large-scale teleportation spell for us. It was a powerful spell that could only be cast from the mage tower in Shadowhold.
It required a lot of preparation and manpower, so it was rarely used, but with the Emperor’s influence, anything was possible.
“This is my first time teleporting.”
“Is it a big deal?”
“It’s a huge deal. There are probably less than a dozen people on the continent who have experienced it.”
Alberich said, his voice filled with excitement. He had a surprisingly childish side to him. And my first experience with large-scale teleportation, or teleporting, ended with…
“Ugh…”
…Ophelia throwing up. She had been motion sick even in the merchant caravan in Auriga. She was no match for teleportation. I patted her back as she retched and looked around. The Great Forest. The capital, Elvendel.
“Ah, this is the air I’ve been missing!”
Erwin said, taking a deep breath. Uthmund smiled wryly and led the way. I had avoided the capital and gone straight to Nua Dhil last time, but now, I was here as the hero.
Even the elves, with their inherent dislike of humans, couldn’t be hostile towards the hero and his companions.
A red carpet was rolled out for us.
“So, this is the Elven Palace.”
“The elves’ architecture is truly superior.”
“Wow…”
Alberich, Azar, and Emily exclaimed, impressed by the scale of the Elven Palace. And Ophelia, as always, did not disappoint.
“These pointy-eared bastards are so calcul… Mmph.”
I covered Ophelia’s mouth.
“Ophelia, do you want to be turned into a pincushion?”
“Mmph.”
“Please, speak politely.”
“Y-you bastard! Why did you cover my m-!”
Thwack!
“Don’t hit me!”
“If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll have to resort to slapping you.”
We weren’t in the Holy City or the Empire. This was the Great Forest. An angry elf could easily shoot an arrow at her.
After flicking her forehead a few more times, she finally quieted down, glaring at me with teary eyes. She didn’t curse, though.
“Elliot, corporal punishment is bad.”
Alberich said with a wry smile, but I ignored him. If this Saintess spouted nonsense in front of the Elven King, we could all die.
“Alright, follow me.”
Despite the commotion, Erwin calmly led the way. The innermost room. The Elven King’s throne room. As the massive doors opened, I recalled the Elven King from the game.
“….”
Arlon, the Elven King. He only appeared in cutscenes. When the hero entered the capital, a cutscene would play, and the Elven King would display the typical elven arrogance. Of course, in this game, elves weren’t guardians of the forest or protectors of balance.
The typical image of an elf in Sword & Magic Chronicle was…
“Are you the pathetic humans who intend to defeat the Demon King?”
Those were the Elven King Arlon’s first words. Ophelia looked at me, her eyes filled with resentment.
“Elliot, you told me to speak politely.”
“….”
“But he’s not speaking politely.”
I was certain of it. The leaders of this continent were all assholes.
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I was a bit late today, had to help my brother with his PC.
Thanks for the chappie!