Chapter 292: Gildreath
Kronos gripped his broadsword and advanced across the polished marble, stopping a few feet from the golden dais. A Kobold sat upon the velvet cushions wearing immaculate garments completely free of the dirt coating the city outside.
"Do you march with the Vanguard?" Kronos leveled the tip of his blade at the Kobold chest. "Explain your presence before I separate your head from your shoulders. A true assassin would have already struck while my back was turned."
Kronos shifted his weight, digging his boots into the marble to anchor his stance. He tightened his grip on the hilt and prepared to deliver a fatal strike.
The Kobold rested his scaled hands on his knees. "I would have already taken your life if that was my objective. I am Krug, the Apostle and chosen vessel of Rubedo, the Supreme Sovereign of the Spiral."
Kronos pointed his weapon at the cushions. "You occupy a royal seat of power during an active invasion. I consider this a formal provocation and an open declaration of war."
Krug lifted his shoulders in a dismissive gesture. "Humans obsess over chairs and crowns. You build entire empires around pieces of carved stone and polished gold, which is... a truly pointless endeavor. I look at this room and see absolutely zero value in any of these objects. On the seventeenth continent, you will only find buildings and facilities that are in need."
Krug stood up and drew a greataxe forged from recycled iron. He brought the weapon crashing down onto the golden throne, pulverizing the gilded frame and shredding the velvet into a spray of splinters and thread.
Krug turned to face Kronos amidst the floating dust. "The chair is gone," Krug stated. "Have your abilities vanished alongside it? Tell me if you lost your power simply because your favorite seat broke into fragments."
Kronos lowered his broadsword by a fraction of an inch. A harsh laugh escaped his throat and echoed across the cavernous room. "My authority resides in my blade and the blood of my enemies. A ruined chair just saves me the trouble of replacing Voranthar’s awful furniture."
Stepping over the pulverized wood of the ruined dais, Kronos kicked a shredded velvet cushion out of his path. He leveled his broadsword directly at Krug’s throat. "State your purpose for entering my hall. Raise your weapon if you seek a fight, as Gilreath stands prepared for war."
Krug rested the flat of his greataxe against the marble floor. Leaning forward, he met Kronos’s stare. "Rubedo finds this world entirely lacking in entertainment. I came here to amuse him."
Kronos gripped his hilt until his knuckles turned white, advancing another step forward. The sharpened edge of his blade hovered inches from Krug’s chest. "Explain your meaning."
Krug nudged a piece of the shattered golden frame with his boot. "The Spiral aimed entirely at Aethelgard and Voranthar. Both are gone. Thousands of their loyalists perished alongside them in the mud."
Lifting his greataxe, Krug rested the handle over his shoulder. "I received intelligence regarding your recent summit. You and the rulers of the Morval dynasty shattered the alliance to actively oppose Voranthar’s principles."
Kronos kept his blade perfectly still while watching Krug pace around the broken room.
Krug traced the edge of his weapon with a scaled finger. "The primary targets are eradicated. The Vanguard is currently playing hunt with the remaining heralds to amuse Rubedo. We possess zero reasons to drag this specific conflict out further."
Krug stopped pacing and pointed his blade toward the grand doors of the throne room. "The choice belongs to Gilreath. We are entirely prepared to oblige if you truly desire a campaign of violence. My army waits just outside your borders for a single command."
Kronos lowered his blade. He rested the flat of the steel against the ruined marble floor. He looked at Krug and turned toward the shattered archway of the throne room.
"Follow me." Kronos walked past the pulverized wood of the dais.
Krug shouldered his greataxe and matched the pace. They walked through the palace corridors. The vaulted ceilings loomed overhead, displaying faded murals of golden skies and forgotten battles.
Kronos led Krug out onto the high battlements of the outer wall.
Below them, the palace city of Gilreath sprawled across the valley. Stone houses and paved streets stretched out under the midday sun. Krug watched a group of citizens hauling timber near the main gates.
"My ancestors built this city from dirt," Kronos said, gripping the stone parapet. "They raised these walls with the blessing of the Heavenly Divine Emperor. He granted them the strength to conquer the surrounding territories and forge an empire. We prospered under his gaze."
"He answered our prayers almost immediately, but then it became slow. From days to weeks, to months, years and then to decades." Kronos looked down at a ruined district near the city’s edge.
"He stopped answering our prayers. The miracles ceased entirely. Decades passed without a single sign of his existence. My grandfather ruled during that silence. He convinced himself the Emperor had discarded us. He tore down the temples and burned the scriptures in the streets."
Kronos turned away from the city view. "The city fractured. The loyalists fought the non-believers. Kin butchered kin in the plazas below. They burned the grain silos and poisoned the wells. Children starved in the gutters while the factions fought over the ashes of the empire."
Kronos looked back at Krug. "My father inherited a graveyard. He spent his entire life burying the dead and rebuilding the aqueducts. He died from exhaustion before he could finish the walls. I took his crown and finished the work. Gilreath is finally whole again. I will not let a new war turn my city into a tomb."
Krug listened to Kronos narrating the history of Gildreath. He could feel the emotions from his words.
The thought of getting abandoned by their god frightened even him. He couldn’t imagine how they would survive if the spiral abandoned them. He could understand their pain and fear.
