Chapter 144 Ch. 144: Rumination [3]
As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow across the land, the remnants of a once-thriving city lay in ruins.
Destroyed houses stood as solemn reminders of the tragedy that had unfolded.
Amidst the wreckage, a Chimera feasted upon the carcasses of fallen citizens, its monstrous form illuminated by the dying light.
With a swift and brutal motion, the Chimera tore away a hand from a lifeless body, the sickening crack echoing through the desolate streets.
Blood splattered onto the ground as the arm separated from its former owner.
The gruff sound of the creature chewing flesh and the crunch of shattering bones reverberated through the surrounding area.
—Clip —Clop —Clip —Clop
In the distance, the rhythmic sound of hooves on the cobblestone interrupted the eerie silence.
A Knight, clad in black full plate armor, rode upon a black armored horse.
Witnessing the gruesome scene before him, he abruptly halted his steed and emitted a shrill whistle that pierced the air.
"Twee-eet!"
The sound caught the attention of the Chimera, causing it to lift its blood-drenched head.
Blood dripped from its jaw as it turned its gaze toward the Knight.
"Kiieekk!"
The Chimera emitted a deafening shriek and lunged towards the Knight.
Unfazed by the impending danger, the Knight tightened his grip on his lance and thrust it forward.
—Splat!
Inky blood erupted from the Chimera's heart like a macabre firework as the lance pierced through its monstrous body.
With a swift motion, the Knight swung his weapon to the side, causing the Chimera's lifeless form to fling sideways and collide with a nearby wall.
—Whack!
Its black blood cascaded onto the ground, staining it with a dark, ominous hue.
The Knight was no ordinary warrior; he was a Paladin, a member of an elite group of knights who served as the personal bodyguards and protectors of the Emperor of the Aeon Empire.
Chosen for their exceptional combat skills, unwavering loyalty, and dedication to the Empire, Paladins held a position of great honor and respect.
Their primary responsibility was to ensure the safety and well-being of the Emperor, carrying out his orders and safeguarding the interests of the Empire.
Within the Empire, those chosen as Paladins were regarded as some of the most skilled and trusted individuals, exemplifying the pinnacle of martial prowess and unwavering loyalty.
—Clip —Clop —Clip —Clop
As the sound of approaching hooves grew louder, the Paladin turned his head, catching sight of another Knight adorned in black full plate armor, distinguished by a silver trim along the edges.
This Knight was none other than the Commander of the Paladins.
"Has it been completed?"
The Commander inquired, his voice resonating with authority.
"Yes, Sir. This is the last Chimera."
The Paladin replied, his voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and accomplishment.
The Commander nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
He tightened his grip on the horse's reins, his heart sinking as he surveyed the devastation that surrounded them.
"Scout the area one last time to ensure there are no remaining Chimeras or impostor Knights."
The Commander commanded.
"Yes, Sir!"
The Paladin responded dutifully.
With that, the Paladin spurred his horse forward, embarking on a final sweep of the area.
The Commander's gaze swept across the desolation, his heart heavy with the weight of loss and destruction.
Hours of grueling battle had led to the eradication of the Chimeras and the treacherous fake Knights, but the cost had been high.
The once-pristine and beautiful capital city now lay in ruins, its grandeur reduced to rubble and ash.
Countless plumes of black smoke billowed into the air, a stark contrast to the extinguished flames that had ravaged the city.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the vibrant orange hues that had painted the sky transformed into a somber, dark blue, mirroring the melancholy that hung over the devastated land.
.
.
.
In the late hours of the night, a sense of foreboding filled the dimly lit room.
The air hung heavy with a palpable aura of gloom and tension as if the weight of the recent attack on the Empire lingered within its walls.
The room itself exuded an air of grandeur, adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate furniture that now seemed to shrink under the weight of the somber atmosphere.
Flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows on the walls, their dance of light and darkness creating an eerie ambiance.
Seated at a large, polished table was Arthur, the Emperor himself.
His regal figure slumped slightly, his fingers intertwined together, and his magenta eyes glinted with weariness.
It was evident that the recent events had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally.
Opposite him sat two figures, their faces concealed beneath hoods, their presence enigmatic.
Clad in flowing black robes, they exude an air of mystery, they were Elders of the Tower.
A man and a woman, their silent presence adding to the weight of the room.
Arthur ran his hands over his face, a gesture of exhaustion and frustration, as he perused the report on his desk.
The details of the attack weighed heavily on his mind, the audacity of the rebels that had infiltrated his Empire becoming all too apparent.
The fact that dozens of carriages could enter the plaza without detection and that half of the knights stationed there had rebelled, mirroring the events at the Refugee Camp, served as a stark reminder of the rot that had taken hold of his once-proud Empire.
'Is there a way to sever this rotten root?'
He knew that rebuilding the capital city was merely a matter of time and resources, but the loss of innocent lives weighed heavily on his conscience.
The thought of his own incompetence gnawed at him, fueling his resolve to find a solution.
Adding to the gravity of the situation, two Sacred Orbs had been stolen.
The loss was not only a blow to their power but also a threat to the stability of the continent.
One Elder had already lost their life defending the Orbs, while another Elder lay in critical condition.
The urgency of the situation was undeniable.
With a heavy sigh, Arthur spoke, his voice tinged with rage.
"As their audacity grows, so does their thirst for power. We must announce that the Empire will be on high alert. Every entry and exit of every city must be closely monitored, with strict identification protocols in place. Additionally, we will send a warning to all the kingdoms, informing them of the existence of this cult."
The two Elders nodded in agreement, their faces hidden beneath their hoods.
"I agree. We cannot afford to let them obtain more Sacred Orbs. The consequences would be disastrous."
The woman responded and the man added.
"We still have time before they can harness the power of the stolen Orbs. We must use this time to strengthen our forces and track down the culprits."
It was not that they did not mourn or grieve for their fallen comrade, but the urgency of the situation demanded their focus.
The loss of innocent lives and the theft of the Sacred Orbs had left them with no choice but to prepare for the worst.
Arthur nodded, acknowledging their words, and continued.
"As for the fallen Elder, I will ensure that his name is inscribed on the Chrono's statues throughout the Empire region. It is a small token of honor to commemorate his sacrifice."
The two Elders nodded in unison, their agreement a silent affirmation.
"Thank you."
The woman spoke softly.
"He would have found solace in being near his beloved friend."
In the face of adversity, the Emperor and the Elders were resolved to protect their Empire, honor the fallen, and restore order.
The weight of their responsibilities pressed upon them, but they would not falter.
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In a grand hall filled with a sea of black-robed figures, anticipation hung in the air like a charged current.
At the center of attention stood a man with long, flowing black hair, his piercing gaze commanding the attention of all those present.
Clad in a flowing white robe, he exuded an air of authority and charisma as he ascended the stage.
As the murmurs of the crowd subsided, the man raised his hands, signaling for silence.
The room fell into a hushed stillness, every eye fixed upon him, awaiting his words.
"It is thanks to each and every one of you gathered here today that we have been able to strike a blow against the Empire!"
His voice resonated with fervor, igniting a wave of excitement among the crowd.
The hall erupted in cheers and applause, a jubilant display of unity and shared purpose.
The man on the stage raised his hand once more, and the room fell silent once again, the crowd hanging on his every word.
"Chrono, our revered deity, sacrificed everything to bring justice to our realm. And yet, the Empire dares to disregard him as a God!"
His voice dripped with indignation, fueling the anger within the hearts of those present.
"Fuck the Empire!"
A voice rang out from the crowd, the sentiment echoing through the hall.
The defiance in that single voice was contagious, spreading like wildfire among the assembled masses.
"Yeah, fuck the Empire!"
The chant grew louder, voices intertwining in a chorus of rebellion.
With a calm yet commanding gesture, the man raised his hand, calling for order.
Gradually, the crowd quieted, their fervor simmering down, allowing the man to continue his impassioned speech.
"Fear not, my comrades. As we gather more Sacred Orbs, we will destroy the Empire piece by piece and bring justice to our God, Chrono!"
His voice thundered with conviction, resonating through the hall.
The crowd erupted once again, their voices rising in unison, their passion palpable.
"Huuuaaa! Justice for God Chrono!"
The man's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he basked in the fervent energy of the crowd.
Their unwavering loyalty and shared purpose were a testament to the strength of their cause.
"Justice for God Chrono!"
He shouted, his voice carrying the weight of their collective determination.
The chant reverberated through the hall, growing louder and more resolute with each repetition.
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