The once-confident dissenters now shifted uncomfortably, as their courage faded rapidly under Ragon's icy gaze.
"I've been gone for a few weeks," Ragon began, with a sharp and icy tone
"and yet here you are, plotting against Thera—someone I personally chose to oversee this kingdom. Do you have so little respect for my judgment?"
He stepped forward, his piercing eyes sweeping over the group, his presence who was suffocating.
"Some of you spoke of strength and leadership," he continued, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Yet, when I look at you, all I see are cowards who lack both. And you"—his gaze locked onto the man lying lifeless on the floor, the dagger still clutched in his hands—"drew a weapon to kill her. A shame that the same enemy you all hate, Grel'thak, is the one who saved her life. Do you truly think I'd let such actions go unpunished?"
He pointed at another man in the group—a stout figure with a protruding belly.
"And you," Ragon said, "The one who leads the newly made soldiers. Instead of protecting the people, they extort and terrorize them. Perhaps you think better with that fat belly of yours than your brain?"
The man's face turned red, but he dared not speak.
Ragon's gaze shifted again, this time landing on an older man with a nervous expression. "Persian," he said, his tone mocking. "You, who constantly schemes to remove Thera. Oh, don't look so surprised. Did you think I didn't know the reason? That as old as you are, you've been scheming to get Thera into your bed?"
The chamber erupted with gasps of disbelief, even from Thera herself. Her wide-eyed expression revealed that she had no idea of Persian's motives.
"And you," Ragon continued, turning his attention to another man, Marcus. He strode forward and stopped directly in front of the elderly figure, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him slightly off the ground.
"You think I don't know about your ambitions?" Ragon said, his voice low but menacing. "You've coveted the position of patriarch for years, long before Elenadrom became a kingdom. You plotted in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to seize power. How does it feel now, knowing your schemes are exposed?"
He released Marcus, letting him fall to the ground with a thud. The old man coughed and scrambled backward, his face pale with fear.
Ragon stepped back, addressing the entire room. His voice was calm, yet it carried an undeniable edge of authority.
"I won't kill any of you," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the gathered crowd. "Apart from the one who's already dead—and but I'm not sorry for his death. Here in Elenadrom, murder will not be tolerated. And to me, none of you are much better than he was."
Ragon's piercing eyes scanned the room, locking onto each person one by one. "Do not mistake my mercy for weakness. If you ever cross me or this kingdom again, I won't be so lenient."
He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly. "You see, I know everything about you—all of you. I've had my intelligence unit working tirelessly to uncover the truth about everyone in Elenadrom. Every man, woman, and child has been accounted for. And that includes each of you standing in this room."
Ragon stopped pacing and turned to face them again. "When I established the intelligence division, it was to ensure the safety and prosperity of Elenadrom. To know who could be trusted and who couldn't. To create a record of every individual within our borders."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "What you didn't know is that this same intelligence network has been watching each of you—your alliances, your betrayals, your secrets. And now, here you stand, exposed."
"You all are her poor brats, and the fact that you don't know it takes a lot to rule makes you all fools." Ragon lashed out at them.
Ragon walked towards the throne as Thera came down and he entered, and safe in the throne.
"Under my rule betrayal wouldn't be tolerated, I would give you all last chances. Anyone who betrays a soul in Elenadrom would face the same faith as him," Ragon pointed on the ground to the dead man.
***********
Later that evening, Ragon's sat in his chamber across from Thera's grandfather, as they engaged in a game of chess in his chamber. The dim candlelight flickered against the walls, Thera's grandfather moved his knight, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You seem preoccupied, your majesty," the old man said.
Ragon leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the chessboard.
"I've been thinking about Elenadrom's standing in this vast world. We've recently transitioned from a mere village to a kingdom, but I need to understand our place in the grand scheme of things."
The elder nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Ah, the Vardros Continent is a vast and unforgiving place, filled with power struggles, empires, and, of course it seems the tussle between other realms is now present."
Ragon gestured for him to continue, his focus shifting momentarily from the game.
"On this continent," the elder began, " The gods are revered by all, and their influence permeates every corner of society. The God of War, in particular, commands the most believers due to the constant conflicts that plague our lands."
He moved his rook, capturing one of Ragon's pawns, before continuing. "Elenadrom is classified as a sixth-level kingdom, the lowest rank within the hierarchy of kingdoms and empires."
Ragon frowned slightly, moving his bishop to counter the elder's play. "What determines a kingdom's level?"
"Several factors," the elder replied. "Territory size, population, military strength, and influence within the parent empire. Elenadrom, being newly established, is affiliated with the Valtherian Empire—a second-level empire that controls numerous affiliated kingdoms."
Ragon raised an eyebrow. "Second level? And where does that place us within Valtheria's structure?"
The elder sighed, "Elenadrom is one of fifty-six sixth-level kingdoms under Valtheria's rule. We are small and insignificant compared to the larger kingdoms within the empire."
Ragon leaned forward, his fingers tapping against the table. "How does this classification work across the continent?"
The elder gestured toward the chessboard, using the pieces to illustrate his point. "The Vardros Continent has nine levels of empires, with level nine at the pinnacle. These empires dominate vast territories, command armies of unimaginable strength, and have the favor of gods. Below them are levels eight through one, with each descending level signifying less power, smaller territories, and weaker influence."
He picked up a pawn and held it between his fingers. "Affiliated kingdoms like Elenadrom are tied to their parent empires. These kingdoms are further divided into six levels, from the first being the strongest to the sixth being the weakest."
Ragon's lips tightened into a thin line. "So, Elenadrom is at the very bottom of the hierarchy."
"Yes," the elder said bluntly. "We have limited territory, fewer than 10,000 citizens, and an army of barely a few hundred soldiers. Compare that to a first-level kingdom under Valtheria, which could rival entire empires in strength."
Ragon moved his queen strategically, forcing the elder to pause his explanation to defend his position. "But you said faith is a driving force on this continent. Could we not leverage the belief in gods to elevate Elenadrom's status?"
Ragon knew how best to play like a god after being part of a society that had gods in it.
The elder chuckled, his eyes glinting with approval. "Faith can indeed unify and strengthen a kingdom. The God of War, for example, is widely worshipped. If Elenadrom were to align itself with a powerful deity, it could attract followers, boost morale, and even earn the favor of the Valtherian Empire now that we are fighting other realms."
Ragon studied the chessboard, his mind whirring with possibilities. "So, we are a sixth-level kingdom in a second-level empire. But how do we climb the ranks? What steps must we take to ensure Elenadrom's survival—and eventual prosperity?"
The elder leaned back, his gaze piercing. "To rise in rank, Elenadrom must expand its territory, grow its population, and strengthen its military and have immense wealth, after all it takes money for a kingdom to grow. And also most importantly, it must demonstrate its value to Valtheria. By serving the empire's interests and proving our worth, we can earn their support."
He moved his knight, forcing Ragon's queen into a corner. "However, beware of the other sixth-level kingdoms. They are your immediate rivals, and they will not hesitate to undermine you to secure their own rise."
"Don't worry I have a plan"