"Your Majesty!" The extravagant throne room hall was opened by a ragged man in long, gray robes. "I bring news from the Ubwiza frontline!"
Sitting on the throne, was a tall, yet big bellied man with a scruffy moustache. His royal robes seemed out of place in his unkempt and lax style.
He was the absolute monarch of Where, as much as he didn't appear to be one.
Manifesting a yawn in front of his attendants and ministers in court, he lazily propped his chin up with his left hand. He motioned the news runner to continue.
"The lone heir to the throne of Ubwiza, Harambe II, had been slain by the new king, Uhuru in the heartlands of Ubwiza!"
Upon finishing his statement, the throne room became flushed with activity. Spirited, victorious yells from high courtiers resounded. Expressions of pleasure and happiness appeared on most of them . The throne room's doors opened and closed like there's no tomorrow, with people exiting to share the news with their lords, brethren, comrades, or subordinates. News of the allied usurper king's victories will once again fill the papers.
It has been a beautiful last few days for humankind.
"Hmmm…" However, not a single trace of happiness could be seen from the monarch's expression. Rather, it was still the same crippling look of boredom that lined his circular face. "Why are you celebrating? It's not like Ubwiza no longer exists. There had just been a changing of the guard. Shifters continued to reign supreme."
The monarch was blunt, his words easily dispersing the merry mood with a fact that can't be denied by anyone.
So what if Uhuru killed the old royal family?
So what if he promised to stop the war with humans?
So what if he wanted to change the status quo?
There were still several thousand Ubwizan soldiers deployed all over the border frontline, ready to pounce, and invade with a single command.
Last night, the spies of every single human kingdom inside Ubwiza were almost annihilated through several mysterious circumstances.
Also, there was the lingering fear that Uhuru's unpredictability could lead him down an even worse path than what humans had imagined at first.
As much as they hated him, the courtiers fell silent, unable to argue with their king's precise argument.
"That man can't be trusted." He scratched the itchy slash scar on his left arm. "Hmmm. Maybe you can, at your own risk. I know I won't."
One of his many ministers asked with a look of concern, "How do you want to handle him, Your Majesty?"
When the courtiers saw their monarch's sly smile, they knew they had overstepped, and were duped. The king stood up, his height on par with the late King Harambe, and the zeal on his face returned.
Slowly, the men in red robes eyed the minister with condescension written all over their faces.
'Here we go again!'
"You know, minister." The king's plain gray robes skidded the marble floor, as he held out his left hand onto the stunned minister's shoulder. "What I want is to attack Ubwiza right now. Let's strike while the iron is hot, you know what I mean?"
Most of the throne room was not surprised about the development. In fact, they hated their king for this very reason.
He does whatever he wants, with no regard to foresight, alliances, and consequences.
"B-but Your Majesty!" The minister who asked him could already sense his legs growing weak. "Y-you want to fight them?"
"Of course I'm just kidding, don't you all have any humor within you?"
"R-really, King Lupus?" The high courtiers heaved a collective sigh of relief.
"Not really, no." Lupus' face carried a savage smirk. He just doesn't care what these people said, because in Where, whatever he wants, goes. "Order the conscripts be moved to the front line, treat them as proper military personnel. Give them weapons, and armor as befitting soldiers. We'll attack a day after they arrive."
As the saying goes, there's no rest for the wicked.
The doors swung open once more, this time another haggard man kneeled in front of the king.
"Your Majesty, I bring grave, and urgent news!" The kneeling man said in a wave of panic visible in his voice.
"Speak."
"Several highly threatening, kingdom level life signatures appeared out of nowhere in Nowhere."
No one spoke anymore. Not even the most talkative courtiers want to be the first to break the silence.
"A bit interesting." Lupus walked lazily back to his throne. He looked back at the crowd of disgruntled ministers and asked. "Who do you think those people were?"
Lupus was under no illusion that those newcomers were friendly forces. They had no way to pinpoint the exact coordinates of the signatures, and no way to know who among the millions of souls in Nowhere were dangerous entities. At least until they make the first move.
Noticing that none of his courtiers dared voice their assumptions, the king sneered. "You all are the best and brightest of this forlorn kingdom! I could absolutely observe that!"
He continued his spiel after taking his seat. "It's the Seekers. Kingdom level existences are rare enough, but they were the only organization that could afford sending multiple of those out at the same time."
The Seekers being here only spelled disaster for Where.
***
Somewhere, in the afternoon.
Riding on the back of an open horse carriage was a refreshing experience for Harambe. In both his lives, he had been a fantastic horse rider that had never ridden as a passenger on double horse carriages like this one.
From a slave who always traveled by foot, to a renowned commander riding high on a mighty warhorse.
Now, for the first time ever, the leisure feeling of a horse drawn carriage took his breath away.
Harambe's en route to Nowhere, the country's walled slum. He held a piece of paper that would help him find Cleo and the rest. He wondered how Cleo got there without him, more than he wondered how Erikson knew all these details.
The carriage was crude, bumpy, and stank of horse manure. But it held within him a gratifying feeling of hope.
Harambe gazed at the family of three sitting in front of him, all with their content smiles, despite their dirty clothing. The small kid was whining, probably because his parents haven't fed him anything yet. But through the parents' weary eyes, and tired postures, Harambe was able to see the desperation intermixed with their seeds of hope.
Must be a family of vagabonds.
As the carriage of people passed the inspection on the walls of Nowhere, the poverty stricken, foul smelling streets welcomed Harambe with a toxic embrace. A few more minutes later, the carriage had arrived at its destination.
Harambe got down first, and paid the almost extortionate fare for four people, in an improbable moment of kindness. He gave a dry smile to the family of three and told the driver he paid for them. He then sped away after tipping his hat at the young family.
The poor lady dropped to her knees and bawled.
Because their small family would have something to eat for the next few nights.