The Kingdom of Death was no longer the unstable and chaotic realm it had been a year ago. Roman had tightened his grip over the capital and the council, consolidating power in both light and shadow. Yet, his work was far from over. Sitting on his throne in the grand hall, Roman listened as his council convened to discuss the growing threats facing the kingdom.
Luke, ever the reliable advisor, began. "Your Majesty, our spies report that Belfort has amassed nearly 15,000 troops near the towns they seized last year. They're fortifying their positions, likely preparing for further aggression."
Roman leaned forward, his fingers tapping the armrest of his throne as his sharp gaze moved to Veranthor. The Prime Minister, though seated, appeared restless. His influence had waned over the past year, leaving him a shadow of his former self. Despite his clear opposition to the king, Veranthor was now more a figure of resistance than a force to be reckoned with.
"And what is the council's stance on this matter?" Roman asked, his tone calm but firm.
Veranthor cleared his throat, masking his frustration. "The council believes we should pursue diplomacy with Belfort, Your Majesty. A direct confrontation would strain our resources and destabilize the region further."
Roman's lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile. "Diplomacy with a nation that has already taken our towns and fortified their positions? Tell me, Prime Minister, what terms would you offer them? Perhaps we should gift them the rest of our borderlands as well?"
The council chamber fell silent. Veranthor's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He knew his power within the council had diminished significantly over the past year. With Roman controlling the majority of the councilmen and the capital guards firmly under his command, the Prime Minister's ability to challenge the king had been reduced to mere words.
Luke stepped in to ease the tension. "Your Majesty, while I agree that diplomacy with Belfort is unlikely to yield results, we must also consider the state of our other borders. Askar has been quiet, but their history suggests they are merely biding their time. Paladir, on the other hand, has been building alliances with smaller factions. They may not be a direct threat yet, but they are certainly preparing for future moves."
Roman nodded, his expression thoughtful. "The Kingdom of Death is surrounded by vultures, each waiting for the opportunity to strike. This is no time for hesitation." He turned his attention back to Veranthor. "Prime Minister, I expect the council to fully support the necessary preparations for our defense. Ensure there are no delays."
Veranthor forced a tight-lipped smile. "As you command, Your Majesty."
The council meeting continued, with reports on the kingdom's finances and internal unrest taking center stage. Calidus, the royal treasurer, outlined the dire economic situation. "Your Majesty, the treasury is strained. While your reforms in the capital have brought order, they've also been costly. Crop failures and disrupted trade routes have left many villages impoverished and on the brink of rebellion."
Roman's gaze hardened. "Then we must act swiftly. Reduce the tax burden on the poorest regions and shift it to the wealthier estates. If the nobles protest, remind them that their lands are protected by the crown's forces. They will pay for that protection, whether they like it or not."
Veranthor interjected, his tone skeptical. "Your Majesty, such a move could alienate the nobility further. They may see it as an attack on their status and wealth."
Roman's eyes locked onto Veranthor's. "If they feel alienated, it is because they have forgotten their duty to this kingdom. Remind them, Prime Minister, that their privileges come with responsibilities. If they cannot fulfill those responsibilities, they are of no use to me."
The council fell silent once more, the weight of Roman's authority suffocating any further dissent. After dismissing the council, Roman retreated to the hidden chamber where the Black Scourge gathered. This secret organization, unknown to all but the soldiers from the system, had grown into a formidable force.
Roman addressed the assembled soldiers, his voice low and commanding. "The visible forces of this kingdom may prepare for external threats, but you are the ones who will root out the internal ones. Corruption, treason, dissent—none of it will be tolerated. You are the shadows that will ensure this kingdom's survival."
He handed a sealed scroll to one of the two-star Aura Swordsmen. "This contains a list of individuals who threaten our stability. Handle them discreetly." The soldier saluted and left without a word. Roman watched him go, knowing that every action of the Black Scourge brought him closer to absolute control over the capital.
As the weeks turned into months, Roman's plans continued to unfold. The capital, now firmly under his grasp, became the foundation for his broader ambitions. In secret meetings with Luke and his closest advisors, Roman laid out his vision for the kingdom's future.
"We are surrounded by enemies," he told them. "But the greatest threat lies within. Before we can confront Belfort, Askar, or Paladir, we must solidify our power internally. The capital must not only appear strong but be unassailable."
Luke nodded. "Your Majesty, we already hold the capital in both light and shadow. What is your next move?"
Roman's gaze was steely. "We will rebuild the kingdom's strength from the ground up. Stabilize the economy, enforce justice, and root out corruption. Once the internal foundation is secure, we will turn our attention to the borders. Belfort will regret ever encroaching on our lands."
Luke smiled, his confidence in Roman unwavering. "Your Majesty, under your leadership, the Kingdom of Death will rise to unprecedented heights."
Roman's expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained unshaken. Standing on the palace balcony that night, he looked out over the capital, the city lights flickering like stars. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but Roman knew he was ready. The Kingdom of Death was no longer a fractured realm—it was a rising power, and Roman was determined to see it thrive.