*
EP.465 To Become an Empire (4)
*
An old journal contained the life of a single human being, a life preserved like a specimen, chronicling the struggles of someone who endured longer than others.
Raniel silently flipped through the pages of the journal.
At some point, the handwriting had changed.
The moment it transformed from sharp and neat to as stiff as a brick coincided with the time Arcadia was flooded with darkness. She continued reading the journal, written not in the queen’s hand, but by someone else’s.
“Please protect Arcadia.”
“That was the last wish left by the sovereign.”
It didn’t take long for Raniel to realize who had penned this continuation.
“The sovereign said that should they reach a point where they could no longer write this journal, I should take over. They ordered me to pass it down to future generations.”
The one tasked with ghostwriting.
“I am Rugran.”
“Rugran Clen Arcadia.”
“The scribe of Arcadia, and a blood relative of the sovereign, born of the same lineage.”
Rugran Clen Arcadia.
The name felt familiar. When she was young, her master had taught her the history of the Kingdom of Cartedia, mentioning this name. Raniel remembered that name.
‘Although my family name is not Arcadia, mind you.’
Rugran Clen Cartedia.
In the chaotic age when the Master of the Demon Lord and their myriad disasters turned the world dark, he was the founder of Cartedia, humanity’s final stronghold.
My name was Rugran, and the name of my bloodline was Arcadia. Although I was born with royal blood, my connection to the main line was a distant one; my parents held a position too ambiguous to be called members of the royal family.
I too lived an ambiguous life in an unclear position, destined to meet a fairly decent death, I suppose.
Yet the sovereign kept me by their side.
The sovereign appointed me as a scribe, commanding me to record their daily life and all matters of Arcadia. I followed that order. I had a talent I didn’t know I possessed, which was observation and recording.
I saw many things while beside the sovereign.
I learned much while beside the sovereign.
Observation and recording were just like that.
To observe, one needed to know much, and to record, one had to organize and summarize. Naturally, I became more knowledgeable. Compared to Sir Cardi, who was called the Grand Magus, I was insignificant, yet I came to know more than others.
One day, the sovereign summoned me separately.
“Rugran.”
“Yes, command me.”
“You have lived a life much longer than you think. Ah, indeed, one so long that it might bore a person to death.”
“···Is that so?”
“Seems like you’re thinking, ‘What the hell kind of nonsense is this?’ Yes, usually, that would be the reaction. Well… I won’t ask you to believe me. However, I would like to make one request.”
“Is it a command?”
“It is a request. A request.”
The sovereign took out the old journal from their belongings.
“If anything were to happen to me… would you continue writing this journal? I’d like you to record the next chapter of Arcadia as seen through your eyes, as well as your own life.”
An old, worn journal.
“Always prepare for the worst, Rugran.”
As they handed me the ancient journal, the sovereign smiled. This journal was their treasure, and it was like entrusting the most precious thing to me. I cherished the journal they gave me.
I couldn’t read the letters written in it. To my eyes, the characters appeared as black boxes. Perhaps, there were other conditions required.
The queen smiled, saying, “Only a child who resembles me can read this writing.”
I didn’t understand the meaning of those words.
*
···Could it be that the sovereign foresaw the future?
Their worries became reality.
The kingdom was engulfed in an unknown mire. The filth flowed throughout all of Arcadia. The day the filth overflowed and consumed the kingdom, the sovereign became an offering and vanished somewhere within the mire.
On that day, Arcadia lost its sun.
Perhaps humanity lost its sun as well.
Shortly after the sun vanished, the cursed lands beyond the horizon saw the resurgence of the demon armies thought to have been completely eradicated. Unlike before, they now had a focal point. Their lord had appeared… to quote the Deloheim Church, the false god had descended.
The Master of the Demon Lord, the Demon King.
The false god descended upon humanity.
Wherever it passed, death flooded the land. Half the world turned dark, and countless humans perished. Many nations, both large and small, were destroyed. Thus, humanity began to retreat. War, which was thought to be over, came again.
It was a time of chaos.
“Gather up.”
Though it was a time of chaos.
“Stand up. Raise your weapons. Do not forget your pride.”
There were many talents in Arcadia who could correct the chaos. Those who had been gathered by the queen in life shone even brighter when the time of turmoil came. At the forefront stood Arcadia’s sharpest blade.
“I am Ganikalt van Galatrick.”
He raised the Holy Sword, blessed by the stars.
“I am the first sword to swing, the sword that protects humanity. I shall take the lead. Follow me.”
At some point, he began to be called a hero.
With Ganikalt leading, numerous heroes rose up. The chaos breeds heroes. The shining ones began to gather under Ganikalt’s name.
Hero, Ganikalt van Galatrick.
Grand Magus, Cardi van Armiel.
Dragon Sorcerer, Belial van Dragonik.
Saint, Gleria Bel Armias.
Amidst chaos, they moved forward. They became the light for humanity. I watched them from afar. Where they headed, our queen awaited. The queen tainted by the false god.
*
The war continued for a long time.
As the war dragged on, stories I didn’t want to hear began to surface. Contact with Abaddon, who had headed into the Phantom Territory to pursue the queen, and Tristan was abruptly cut off one day. Their last message was as follows.
“I’ve found the sovereign.
I will escort them back.”
No one returned. Not a soul.
Following that, the astrologer who could read the stars, Akelm, ventured into the Phantom Territory, but she too disappeared shortly after. In the near future, I would confront them again. In the worst way possible.
The cursed tree of the land, Abaddon.
The sun reflecting the curse, Tristan.
The lake engulfed by the curse, Akelm.
They pledged their loyalty once more under the queen who had been transformed. No longer human. Thus, they became disasters, revealing malice against humanity. Countless humans were massacred, and several nations fell.
···Though I did not want to hear the stories, though I did not want to see the sight spreading across the world.
Even in such a world, there was light. There were those who volunteered to become light. The hero, Ganikalt van Galatrick, and his companions were among them. They cut down long-time friends who had taken the wrong path and moved forward.
Ganikalt van Galatrick advances.
The sharpest blade of the queen headed towards the Phantom Territory to correct the queen who had become no longer virtuous. I watched their journey. I recorded it. Thus, after over a decade, they began their final battle.
And again, the news cut off.
That day was when my memory vanished in an instant.
*
Something interfered with my memory.
The names of old friends I had shared many years with faded away. It wasn’t just me. No one could remember the heroes who had crossed through this era. There were even many who felt no sense of strangeness.
The only reason I could retain my memories was thanks to this journal left by the queen.
Despite all records vanishing and changing, this journal remained unchanged. What I had recorded in this journal did not alter. As I continued reading the journal, I mulled over the names of my friends.
Ganikalt, Gleria, Belial, Cardi…
Ah, no, it wasn’t that.
Not every name had vanished. The name Cardi was known by someone else too. While all traces of his life as a hero had been erased, his life as the Master of the Tower remained.
I heard news that he had returned to the kingdom.
Having been in exile in a far-off land, I rushed to Arcadia. To ask him. After several days of travel, what I saw upon arriving in Arcadia was a sight I wished I had never laid my eyes upon.
The transformed heroes were there.
My friends were there.
The transformed commander of the royal guard, now grotesque, swung his sword towards the castle wall he had sworn to protect. The once-proud dragon sorcerer had become a beast without reason, engulfing the kingdom in flames. The saint, who had once championed the sanctity of life, was now committing massacres, mocking the value of life.
Arcadia is crumbling.
A■■c■■dia is crumbling.
■■■■■■ is crumbling.
No one could remember ■■■■■■■. My mind was in chaos. I could not remember the name of my homeland. What was my name…?
Rugran. Rugran Clen ■■■■■■.
Memories are being erased.
The precious things are forgotten.
I read the journal in a frenzy.
I reread the sentences I had written countless times. For the instant I read the sentences, I could be free from oblivion. However, that too did not last long. After a day, I would forget everything again.
The cycle of oblivion and recollection continued.
Every time I read the journal, my head throbbed as if it would break. Was it the price for accessing information that was out of reach? In the midst of this headache, I walked the wasteland. I headed towards the frontier where I had seen the few survivors of the fallen Arcadia living in exile.
For decades, I had laid the groundwork.
I built a nation atop the foundation I had established.
Every time I pronounced the name Arcadia, those who expressed pain arose, so I changed my name and the name of the country to another. Cartedia. A name that held the meaning of ‘carrying on the legacy of the ancient kingdom’ in the ancient tongue.
Cartedia.
Rugran Clen Cartedia.
Once the nation had stabilized to some extent, I began to investigate. Why did my homeland perish? What was my queen so afraid of? What was the poison the queen always spoke of?
One day, as I continued my research.
The previously invisible letters of the journal became visible. Had I unconsciously satisfied some conditions? I read the words my queen had left behind. I engraved them in my mind without missing a single character. And there, that name existed.
Braver.
Acrita Clen Arcadia.
Raniel unfolded the last part of the journal.
There, the research results left by the founder of this country were written down. The fervor of someone who dedicated their entire life to fulfilling the last request left by Arcadia’s final queen was there.
『Acrita Clen Arcadia.』
Rugran Clen Cartedia spoke.
『The First Braver.』
『I pondered as I read the records left by my queen. Why did that being choose not to kill the queen? Why didn’t they push the queen, who directly received the blessings of the stars, to death?』
The story began with a question.
『It seems the queen believed it was merely the whim or amusement of the Braver, but my thoughts were different. The queen viewed herself as the antithesis of the Braver, and it seemed the stars wished for her to become that antithesis.』
He continued the tale.
『Even searching through the history of Arcadia confirms this. The emergence of a child beloved by the stars coincided with a time when the kingdom was struck by countless plagues and calamities. This means it overlaps with the time the Braver made their appearance.
The child beloved by the stars, Stella.
The one reading the essence of the stars, Watcher.
These two abilities once possessed by the queen are, without a doubt, abilities intended for combating the Braver. I felt the need to research these abilities. Luckily enough, my granddaughter possessed both talents.
Did the contract the queen had established with the stars continue in another form? Or did poisons also infiltrate my kingdom? It didn’t matter which. What I had to do remained unchanged.
Thus, I began my research alongside my granddaughter.
Delving into the talents held by the Watcher and Stella. The essence, the methods of utilization, and the miraculous acts the queen exhibited while alive. After continuous research, I finally managed to find the answer.』
Raniel glanced at the last sentence.
She caught a glimpse of the answer that humanity found through sheer determination.
“『Stella and Watcher are pawns.』
『At the edge of the chessboard, they become the queen.』
『That is the reason the Braver spared the queen’s life, and the variable that the Braver fears.”
