The sound of a slamming door disturbed the silence. Standing at the entrance to the room was the Immovable King Kaltinas, breathing heavily through his nose. Zaimon, the top student of the academy, was right behind him.
“We heard the news, Farris,” Kaltinas said. “You used to be close to the ruler of that ephemeral world, yes? Was he your former master?”
Farris looked away from the paintings to stare at the Immovable King. “What about it?”
“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Kaltinas asked, marching right up to Farris. “His weaknesses. Tell us everything.”
Farris sighed quietly, closing his eyes. “The opponent is a shallow-level world inferior to Pablohetra. Militia’s World has only just made it to the silver seas and has no way of knowing Balandias’s abilities. The stage for the skirmish is Second Balandias, inside our own castle. The humane and beautiful thing to do would be to face the Demon King Academy’s best efforts with our own.”
“Fool. How many times do we have to tell you? This is war. Keep spouting your idealistic nonsense and you’ll only be preyed upon. This is why the chief god chose us as the ruler, not you.”
“Pablohetra was founded on the principle of the lull of the Sacred Silverwater Sea,” Farris replied. “The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish is how peaceful decisions can be made. Only through fair and just competition can the beauty of friendship be born. The same friendship that can one day become the sword and shield to protect Balandias.”
“Obviously that’s all a facade. Lull? Utter nonsense! No one in Pablohetra truly believes that drivel. In the Sacred Silverwater sea there is no justice, no fairness. We must use whatever methods we can to demonstrate the might of Balandias. Only once the power of the Immovable King resounds in every world in the silver sea will Balandias begin to see true peace!” Kaltinas said, so forcefully it was as if he wished to push his words, and the beliefs he expressed with them, on anyone listening.
“There are times we have need of power, but power is just one way to act. The seeds of war are born in the hearts of the people. Without humanity, there is no peace.”
The Immovable King snorted. “None of that would matter if all silverfoam belonged to Balandias.”
“Even if that were to happen, that would only be the beginning. Ugly bubbles that swell rapidly will easily pop at the slightest touch.”
“Such naive thoughts. Listen up—we are the ruler. You are our pawn. Stop thinking and do as you’re told.”
Farris stared back at Kaltinas coldly.
“If you don’t like it, then leave! Leave this castle now!” the Immovable King shouted, eyes bulging with anger as he stomped towards the door.
“Lord Kaltinas,” Zaimon said quietly. “Farris is the Silvercastle Creator, the only man who can pilot Zeridheavens, the strongest castle of Balandias. I know it is much easier for you to deal with insubordinate subjects by disposing of them, but a wise king is capable of working around them.”
Zaimon knelt, bowing his head as he continued his defense of Farris. “I will personally keep a close eye on him. Please reconsider.”
“Hmph. There’s no need to worry. That man is too much of a coward to leave this castle,” Kaltinas said.
Zaimon looked up in confusion.
Kaltinas continued. “Isn’t that right, Farris? If you leave the castle, we will have free rein over these castles.” He licked his lips with a repulsive smirk, shooting a pointed look to the five paintings behind Farris. “Each of these five castles are on par with Zeridheavens, after all. But let us be clear. We’re only using Zeridheavens because you begged us not to use these castles for war. Just because you have the slightest skill at creating castles doesn’t mean you hold any leverage here. Far from it.”
“I will keep my promise,” Farris replied.
“That’s what you should have said from the beginning, fool. You are below us. Make sure you understand that. You. Are. Below. Us.”
“I know. Lord Kaltinas is my ruler.”
Satisfied, Kaltinas started laughing, long and loud.
“That’s more like it! Good grief. You may be skilled, but that head of yours is utterly empty. Who else would go out of their way to develop magic that specifically seals castles into picture frames for display? The only worth a castle has is on the battlefield. It makes no sense at all.” The Immovable King looked down at Farris and sneered. “Castles aren’t meant to be admired. They’re armor designed to protect their master. And just like those castles, your only value is in how you may serve us. You could never be a ruler.”
Was Kaltinas’s obsessive need to assert his superiority over Farris because he knew just how valuable his skill was in a world like Balandias? If he were truly secure in his worthiness as the ruler, he would just shut his mouth and feel confident in his place.
“Now, tell me all his weaknesses.”
“To expose the affairs of my former master is an ugly thing. Such insincerity will backfire on you someday, Immovable King.”
“Fool. Do you think we would ever allow rebellion? Your power is our power. We would rather crush your fingers such that you could never hold a castle sword again before letting you fall into the enemy’s hands.” Kaltinas grabbed Farris by the collar. “Listen carefully. Do not underestimate us. Take a long moment and think carefully. Defy us, and we will take those five castles and use them in the next match.”
Farris shot him a sharp glare, making him falter.
“Wh-What’s that look for?” Kaltinas stuttered. “Are you defying us, is that it? Is that what you’re doing? I’ll use them, mark our words!”
Farris could only reply with silence. He didn’t want the five paintings to be used by Kaltinas. But he couldn’t tell him my weaknesses either—because there weren’t any. Honestly, he could’ve just said as much. How upright.
Unable to stay silent and watch any longer, Zaimon stepped forwards with a suggestion of his own.
“Immovable King,” he said. “There is no need to exert such efforts just to hunt a mere mouse. Farris is being stubborn because he believes the Balandias army you lead can easily secure a victory even by fighting fairly. Why don’t you order Farris to command the battle and resolve all this that way?”
If Farris took command, he would have no choice but to use the weaknesses he knew.
“By eliminating his former master with his own hands, he can deepen his loyalty to you even more,” Zaimon added.
The Immovable King huffed and tossed Farris to the floor. He then turned around.
“Be grateful Zaimon speaks for you,” he spat before leaving the room.
Zaimon held his head bowed towards Kaltinas until he was out of sight. Once the footsteps faded completely, he sighed and offered a hand to Farris from where he was on the floor.
“That pride of yours will kill you before your time.”
“I always seem to make trouble for you,” Farris replied, taking his hand and standing up.
Zaimon then looked at the five paintings on the wall. “Are these pictures really so precious to you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it. They’re just castles in frames.”
Farris smiled awkwardly as Zaimon examined the pictures, tilting his head from side to side in befuddlement. “They are indeed just that,” Farris replied.
Zaimon sighed tiredly once again. He turned to Farris with a serious look.
“We’ve known each other for pretty long now. Isn’t it time you opened up to me?”
“I thought you held no interest in paintings.”
“Paintings, no. What I’m interested in is you,” Zaimon said simply. He stared straight back at Farris. “If you don’t want to speak, I won’t insist that you do. But we’ve fought together on countless battlefields. It doesn’t feel right to keep secrets from each other.”
“That’s true... I suppose I thought the story would bore you.” Farris gazed at the five paintings. “These five castles weren’t created by me.”
“No? These five castles that are on par with Zeridheavens itself?”
Farris nodded. “I used to be an artist. I made paintings and sculptures.”
“An artist?”
“Perhaps you’d be more familiar with the term painter. Paintings weren’t the only things I created, but Balandias isn’t really familiar with the concept of art, as you know.”
Zaimon nodded with a doubtful look.
“I used to wander from place to place in order to show off my works. But Balandias values the beauty of functionality: castles, castle swords, magic tools, and armor for war. My paintings were not accepted anywhere—that is, until I arrived at one remote village,” Farris continued, eyes fixed on the paintings on the wall. “I found like-minded people there—people who were sick of creations that had to be useful. They craved something different in their works. I set up an atelier in that village and created alongside them. Their talent was blinding, and their creativity was limitless. As residents of Balandias that excel in castle creation, they were quick to learn creation magic and made piece after piece.”