Chereads / Fae King / Chapter 42 - The Execution

Chapter 42 - The Execution

~Ho~oonk!

I hear the horn of war loud and clear. This is not beyond my expectations. But still... This surprises me a bit.

There are uncertainties, and wild guessing, but now that it has all come to this— I can only confront it headfirst from now on. Before all of this, I am having wishful thinking that maybe we can do this 'peacefully', an in-and-out business. Taking great advantage of our speed, maybe we can inflict our revenge and just be done with it and escape.

Of course, I know better. After attacking the Jeremy estate, and learning of the traces of a messenger pigeon, I become darn certain that there will be a gathering of an army or the sort.

I didn't expect it to be the King's personal army though.

Standing on the battlements by the wall fortifications of Urden County, I see the gathering torches of an army of thousands strong. I can recognize the royal crest of the Beyronald King standing tall waving with the winds.

Commoners of Urden county scramble by the south gate. At the sight of the royal army, they become more panicked, unaware of what is really happening. Because of the deterrence of the royal army, the commoners decide to return to the county. Some choose to be more sensible and find another path as they dread the walls. Some manage to take a hold of their little bravery to seek aid from the royal army.

For some time, the Beyronald Army is in confusion as they find the sudden refugees coming at them fearlessly, and begging for them to be saved. Only through the sheer discipline, and masterful command of the army leaders did the royal army can preserve their formation.

Galen who is already on the verge of losing himself to the madness regains a semblance of recovery. He lifts his head, and with pride, he defiantly admonishes me at the turning of the tables.

"Better late than never, I suppose…" Galen with bloodshot eyes stares at me with a victorious grin. "It looks like it is not just us who has a knack for doing night raids…"

I laugh in my heart as I and Galen share this inside joke. It is barely past midnight, thus the night is still young. The appearance of the royal King's direct army renders my scheme to be fruitless. My strategy to frame it as a local fight for power among the Fendra aristocracy is now null.

"It is Kimal, isn't it?" I make myself known as I force my throat to ask this question to the crowd of human soldiers. My temporary superhuman qualities exhibit themselves to their fullest. I feel the wind around me move as my voice carries on the assembling army.

Riding on a white horse and carrying a bright white lamp using unknown technology, a handsome lad reveals himself to me. A modest crown of gold adorns his head, and following just beside him is a buff old man who I assume to be the commanding general.

"I am the royal sword of the Kingdom, General Bardano! And you are in presence of the Beyronald King, Mareichi Hans Beyronald! Elf! Where is your master!? And what is happening here?"

The old man who calls himself Bardano declares with royal arrogance, his voice is reverberating, though shouting, he still maintains his dignity.

Mareichi immediately follows up on the general's words with a personal curiosity about my mention of Kimal. "Elf, do you know Baron Kimal Jeremy? He is a close friend of mine. The Jeremy estate has been recently attacked. I am here to ask for Count Urden… Revealing a bloody insignia that symbolizes the Urdens, Mareichi proceeds on his words with a nonchalant attitude. "I am afraid that the Urden is under suspicion of illegally harming another's domain…"

"I am expecting you, your majesty... but not like this..." I softly comment earning a frown from the Beyronald King.

The night is not as initially silent as before all thanks to the noise the commoners are making, but the exchange of words didn't meet any interference as I am able to hear the King's words just fine despite more noise behind me. I feel the gaze of the humans below me. I squint my eyes gathering the necessary information… And in the end, I arrive at a conclusion.

What is a better audience there than the royal army and their King?

"Mareichi, is it?" I casually assert myself to the crowd. "Do you hear that music? The crying? The slaughter? The county is quite big, so the winds might not carry all of the sounds… But as an elf with excellent hearing, I can hear them all singing… Ah~ it is so beautiful…"

"How dare you! You are in front of his ma—" General Bardano reprimands me for my behavior, but I cut him off by flashily kicking a spear by a dead soldier's side and catching it midair. I feel so naughty, like some brat flexing meaninglessly.

The distance between me, and the general is far enough for even an archer to find it impossible to cross the gap. It is a different story for me. I raise the spear, and with one big motion, I hurl it with all my might using my only free hand.

My muscles cry in despair as they grind to each other in a bloody menace, veins bursting, and bones hurting. My left arm loses its function turning me effectively into a half cripple as I cannot feel my left side anymore.

The spear flies into a straight line, missing the target that I am marking. "Too bad… Looks like my aim is off…" I sigh pitifully at the 'unfortunate' coincidence.

The spear skewers Mareichi Hans Beyronald, throwing him from his mount and sending him off to a distance. The royal general freezes on his mount unsure whether this is all a dream or not… No, not even close to a dream for this is a nightmare.

With theatric opulence, I raise my only working arm, my right hand now clasping on Galen's neck. "People of Beyronald, I shall present to you this mortal man… The sinner, and the reason as to why I have come here…"

In every crisis, there is an opportunity. And what is an opportunity if not the result of meeting probabilities? To seize this opportunity means luck, and to succeed in it means destiny. I will embrace this crisis with all my being, and with it, I shall feed my image with infamy. I manically smile at the watching crowd. The moonlight above shines on me like a spotlight emphasizing the climax of my grand performance.

I see the slight clouds above me moving in my favor as if telling me that it is time.

The people of Beyronald freeze on their toes, gazing upon my existence, and waiting for my words. I didn't let them wait for long as I finally declare myself. "I am the King of the Elves, Arthram Fae Zorun!"

Carrying me with momentum is false bravado. Though false, as long as many people strongly believe it, it will only be a matter of time before it becomes true.

"I am the Silver-haired elf! I am the King of the elves! I am the child of the Fae!"

I scream the self-made titles at the top of my lungs.

"And I have come in the human domain to inflict judgment!" At the declaration of 'judgment', I rip off Galen's head from his body using my unreasonable strength. I ignore the gasps and cries as reality finally reaches the poor people of the Beyronald Royal Army.

It is not a dream. Their King is dead. The Count is dead.

The soldiers under General Bardano's command join the commoners in their chaotic escape. A stampede occurs in some parts of the army, as the idea of desertion spreads like a plague.

Despite the chaos, a sizable army remains. A fifth among the five thousand scatters like headless flies joining the commoners in their blind escape.

What can they do? The King who is leading them is dead! And the Count who is their target is dead! All they can see is a monster… a monster in me… and just like that, I beautifully end the execution.

I am now less spry, but I still can move… I proceed on grabbing another spear by a dead county soldier's side. I nail the spear on the solid floor of the wall where I am standing. And just like how Galen's soldiers did to the countless elves in Lorekleim Forest, I place his head on a pike.

I… feel so empty… Despite knowing this, I don't regret any of my actions... If I were to do it again, I will choose to do this all over again... Revenge is not so 'empty' it doesn't warrant the lack of need for it.

Truthfully, I am hoping for my fellow elves to survive this. Though the Berserker Potion will shave off a lot of their lifespan, they will still have plenty of years to rely on. I will die, and that is for certain, but maybe, there is a way in which Trudviar and the others can live.

This 'war' must be a very valuable learning experience for them, so it will be a big waste for them to die… Sigh… Why do I feel like I am downplaying my value?

I gaze at the royal general who is glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. I casually wave my hand to him as if I am greeting a friend. The night becomes silent at the crescendo of my performance, as if the 'music' itself dies in the middle, erasing itself even to the ears of the listeners.

Destroying this silence is the grieving howl of the general.

"THE GATES ARE OPEN! NO NEED TO HOLD BACK! KILL ANYONE WHO RESISTS! KILL THAT ELF!"

General Bardano is losing his mind at the death of his King. His sword is already bloody as he strikes the King's useless bodyguard with one blow. With a maddening cry, he orders the soldiers to massacre... and just like that… the human soldiers rush to the gate.

There is one more execution left… I breathe the night's air. The chilling cold tortures my hurting lungs, and the shivers in my skin just cannot get away. I grab a dead soldier's dagger. "I guess this is goodbye." With one last look at Count Galen's head, I then slice my throat in one swift motion.