With a resounding "BAM," the Emperor was abruptly interrupted mid-sentence as an invisible force hurled his body into the castle wall. As the dust cleared, Oberon materialized in front of Eric, his eyes blazing with fury as he tightly clutched the Emperor's collar.
"You fucking bastard, how dare you show your face around my grandson?" the old teacher seethed.
Eric tried to move but found himself unable to break free of the unseen force holding him against the wall. "It has been a while, sir. I see that you are doing well," he said, attempting to maintain a calm façade.
"Answer me, why are you here?" Oberon demanded.
"He is my son, sir. I can understand you are angry, but do let go…patience isn't my strong suit," the Emperor replied, a frown creasing his features.
"Where did all that flare go when my daughter was killed, huh?" Oberon pulled the Emperor down and forced him to his knees.
The Emperor opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Dante interjected. Placing his hands on Oberon's shoulders, he shook his head. "Sir, not right now. Our time for revenge will come, but for now, we need to do something… it is for John's sake."
Oberon's grip began to loosen as Dante spoke, and he released the Emperor, throwing him to the ground with a vicious expression. Without another word, he stormed into John's room.
Eric stood up, adjusting his suit, and began massaging his neck. "When did he get so strong?" he muttered.
"I hired him to teach John," Dante explained. "He's now an elder in the Republic of Scholars, which makes him one of the best teachers in the continent. Plus, I wanted John and Oberon to meet. Both of them don't really have anyone left in the world now that John's mother has passed."
"I didn't even know he was strong until the final battle. I don't know what magic he has learned, but whatever it is, it's insane," Dante continued, clearly bewildered.
"Let's get going then. We have much to discuss," Eric said. "If we're going to implement John's plan, we'll need to figure out a way to placate the other nobles, and that won't be fun for either of us."
"You mean it won't be fun for you. Those fuckers, at least those who remember my rebellion, simply wet their pants at the sight of me," Dante replied sarcastically.
Ignoring Dante's remark, the Emperor retreated to a corner of the room. "You go get our ride, then. I'll contact the Prime Minister about today's events," he said to Dante.
"Sure," Dante said as he left the castle.
.
.
.
As Oberon strode into the room, he found John sitting on his bed with a bitter expression etched on his face. He approached the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "How many?" John asked without looking up.
"How many what, child?" Oberon inquired, trying to understand what John was asking.
"How many died?" John clarified, his voice trembling with emotion.
Oberon sighed heavily, his expression solemn. "35,000 of our own forces perished in battle," he said, his voice low. "As for the imperial army, their losses were not as great. And the barbarians fought until their last breath."
John's eyes widened with shock. "What of those who were not partaking in the war?" he asked, hoping against hope for a more positive response.
"The entire territory of the barbarians will be incorporated into the grand duchy," Oberon said, his voice tinged with sadness. "As for what the duke will do with those barbarians, I'm sure you can imagine."
John nodded silently, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "And how many of those were killed by my hands?" he asked softly.
Oberon hesitated for a moment before answering. "Three hundred," he said, his tone gentle.
John's shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep sigh. "I see," he murmured, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.
Oberon could sense the guilt and pain that John was feeling, and he reached out to him, taking his hand in his own. "Would you mind telling me what happened to you back then?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
John swallowed hard before answering. "I don't really remember. I was fighting a beastman who was after me, and then everything went blank."
Oberon nodded sympathetically. "I see," he said softly. "I won't tell you not to blame yourself, because I know that won't change anything. But what I will say is that if you want to prevent something like this from happening again, the only thing you can do is grow stronger."
Oberon's expression turned fierce as he spoke. "John, this world is cruel, especially to those who are weak. Look at those barbarians over there. Do you think it's their fault that they're in chains?"
He gestured towards a group of blonde men and women, young and old, who were being chained and loaded onto carriages meant for the mines.
John's eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to understand the full extent of the situation. "Invading us?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion.
Oberon sighed, realizing that he needed to explain the long-standing feud between the empire and the northern barbarians. "No, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but the 15th emperor, Justin the Expander, during his conquests, expanded the borders of the empire from Theslonia all the way to here in the Grand Duchy of Valoria. And before he did his conquest, this land belonged to those barbarians."
Pausing for a moment to ensure John was following him, Oberon continued, "Their only fault was that they were weak. Had they been strong, they would not have lost their ancestral homes. Had they not been weak, they would not have lost. And had they not been weak, they would not be in this pathetic state of theirs."
Oberon's grip tightened around John's arm as he spoke, his tone harsh and uncompromising. "So grow stronger, for that is the only way for you to stop what happened to your mother from ever happening again, or to stop the suffering of your people."
John's shock was palpable, and his eyes widened as he muttered, "H-h-how?"
Oberon's smile was sly as he approached the gate. "You will know when the time is right, but not right now. For the time being, recover. After which you must promise me that you will do everything in your power to grow stronger."
John nodded slowly, his mind racing with questions. "But what about the plan I discussed with Eric and Dante?"
Oberon shook his head, his expression softening. "It fascinates me to no end how such a young child as yourself can think so flexibly, but there is one huge flaw in your plans… none of it will work if you are weak."
As John processed Oberon's words, the older man began to make his way towards the door. "Well then, I shall take my leave. You should rest now."
John watched as the door closed behind Oberon, feeling a mix of confusion and determination. "Yeah, I will be seeing you," he muttered to himself.
The loud clank echoed throughout the conscience space, jolting John from his thoughts. He furrowed his brows and turned to face Pallas and Kostas, both of whom seemed just as confused as he was.
"What in god's name was that?" John exclaimed, his voice filled with bewilderment.
"Not sure, but that old man is strong," Kostas said, his tone contemplative.
"The old bastard knows lost magic," Pallas added, his voice tinged with awe.
John's eyes widened in surprise. "Lost magic?"
Pallas nodded. "Yeah, we noticed this during the battle, but your teacher here knows ancient giant magic, something most other ancient races like us believed to be lost after the 100-year war."
John frowned, his curiosity piqued. "I see. By the way, I've heard the two of you mention this 100-year war twice already. What is it?"
"Something you need not be aware of right now…you will find out when the time is right," Kostas said, his expression determined.
"Ignorance is bliss," Pallas said, nodding in agreement with Kostas's words.