The news of Ragon, a nineteen-year-old, defeating the Orcs who had besieged them for nineteen long years had spread like wildfire. It traveled so far that even the Vardos Continent, one of the more prominent regions in the realm, began to take notice of the once-overlooked Elenadrom Kingdom.
"Neigh!" The thunderous sound of galloping horses echoed through the small community as the cavalry of the Holy Church approached. Rows of armored knights, their tabards emblazoned with the Church's sacred symbol, led the procession. Behind them, a majestic carriage flanked by high-ranking priests in white and gold robes trailed along.
No one in the kingdom would have ever thought that they would see such a glorious sight in their lifetime. The presence of the Holy Church in their lands left citizens of Elenadrom surprised.
The people began to gather, lining the streets to watch as the procession advanced.
"Can you believe it? The Holy Church, here in Elenadrom?" one elderly woman muttered, clutching her grandson's hand tightly.
"King Ragon must truly be a remarkable figure to draw the attention of the Holy Church," a merchant chimed in, nodding as he stroked his beard.
"You think it's because of what he did with the Orcs?" another voice added.
"It has to be! No other explanation makes sense. Who else could've brought them here?"
The murmurs and guesses only grew as the procession continued. For a level six affiliate kingdom like Elenadrom, the idea that the Holy Church, known for its focus on the larger, more powerful kingdoms, would bother to visit was nearly unfathomable.
This was a place where even the Church's low-ranking clerics rarely came, let alone an official envoy.
The Holy Church procession arrived at the bustling city square, their gilded armor glinting under the sunlight. As they dismounted their horses, the crowd grew silent, watching intently. The head priest, an older man with a golden staff, stepped forward. His sharp eyes scanned the gathering as if assessing their worth.
"We seek your king!" his voice boomed, silencing even the faintest whispers in the square. The people exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to respond.
Soon, a messenger rushed to the castle and found Snow speaking with Ragon.
"Your Majesty," the messenger stammered, bowing deeply. "The Holy Church's priests have arrived at the city square. They are requesting your presence."
Snow's face darkened immediately. He leaned forward, towards Ragon"Your Majesty, before you go to meet them, there's something you must understand about the Church."
Ragon raised an eyebrow, sensing the gravity of Snow's tone. "okay.. you can tell me Patriarch Snow ."
Snow nodded. "The Holy Church is not as noble as they claim. They use their influence to exploit the smaller kingdoms, especially those like ours, which they deem insignificant. They extract wealth under the guise of faith, often leaving the rulers powerless. Their arrival here isn't just to acknowledge your victory over the Orcs—they suspect you've amassed a fortune from it. They also likely wish to use our kingdom as a buffer against the Orcs, should they ever rise again."
Ragon chuckled softly to himself, his confidence unwavering. "Don't worry everything is under my control"
Ragon stood, his aura shifting subtly. The air around him seemed to have a faint golden glow radianted from his being.
*************
Ragon strode confidently into the square, his presence commanding immediate attention. The crowd parted to let him through, their whispers could be heard all around.
"That's our king!" someone murmured with a sense of pride in his voice.
The head priest turned, his gaze falling on the young man approaching him. His lips curled into a faint sneer.
"This boy is your king?" he muttered under his breath, though his words were loud enough to be heard.
Ragon stopped a few paces away from the priests, his sharp eyes meeting the head priest's
"I am King Ragon of Elenadrom," he declared, his voice steady and powerful.
The head priest raised an eyebrow, his expression both skeptical and amused. "A boy like you, ruling a kingdom? Surely, there must be a mistake. Where is your real king?"
Ragon smirked faintly, and without a word, allowed his aura to flare. The oppressive power of a five-star mage surged around him, causing a ripple of energy to sweep through the square. The head priest staggered slightly, his grip tightening on his staff as he struggled to maintain composure.
Inwardly, the priest was stunned. "A five-star mage? In a mere level-six affiliate kingdom? This is unheard of!" He swallowed hard, masking his fear with a facade of calm authority.
Ragon's smile didn't waver. "Your disbelief changes nothing. I am the king, and this is my kingdom."
The priest hesitated but nodded slightly. "Very well. If your people have chosen a boy to rule them, so be it."
The priest straightened his posture."We have come to bring the blessings of the Holy Church to Elenadrom. As part of our mission, we will establish a grand church here, a symbol of faith and unity. Naturally, you will finance this noble endeavor."
From a distance, Thera watched the exchange. She had always known Ragon to be strong, but his display of power and calm composure was what intrigued her.
And the realization of how strong he was, to the extent he was able to make her grandfather, who was once old, younger again, was a bit mysterious to her. She couldn't fully read the young man's strength.
Meanwhile Partraich Snow, who was standing near Ragon stepped forward, as he said "Your Majesty—"
But Ragon raised a hand, stopping him. "Patriarch Snow, allow me."
Ragon turned his attention back to the priest. "Your proposal is… intriguing," he said slowly. "But if we're to fund the construction of your church, I have a condition."
The priest frowned slightly. "Condition? What condition?"
Ragon's smile grew sharper. "In addition to the church, you will provide us with armory and weapons for our soldiers. Surely, the Holy Church wouldn't oppose strengthening a kingdom that stands as a wall against the Orcs?"
The priests exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence wavering.
"We do not deal in weapons," the head priest said firmly. "Our mission is spiritual, not martial. And let me remind you, young king, that your kingdom is under the Holy Church's guidance. It is not your place to make demands."
Ragon's expression darkened slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Guidance? Or control?" he asked, his tone cutting.
The priest's jaw tightened, but he forced a laugh. "You misunderstand. Our role is to ensure peace and prosperity for all. It is only fitting that we guide a small kingdom like yours."
Ragon smiled and immediately threw five large sacks of gold from thin air. "That's 1,000,000 gold coins—it's more than enough to build a church, even in a level one kingdom. So you are left with two options: either you take it, or you leave this kingdom, I wouldn't repeat myself"