Chapter 5: The Dragon Test
JULIAN Angus visited the court of Setrayu where he used Monica, the misbegotten daughter of former Queen Consort Lorraina, to steal Setrayu’s dracovitae, the Hurricane of Insight.
That information raced through international channels, as fast and as shocking as lightning.
Julian unleashed golems onto the banquet, causing chaos he used as a diversion to kidnap Monica, placing her under his control with a Collar of Slavery, where he proceeded to steal the dracovitae.
After that, Julian murdered the knights on guard, destroyed half the castle, and fled. He needed to escape quickly since there would be dracovitae users in the castle with a higher compatibility rate who would try to steal it back.
Dawn broke the next morning.
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“JULIAN, are you insane?!” howled an old man. He resembled a sort of mountain ascetic wearing something akin to a toga.
“Watch your tongue. I am no longer your student.” Julian waved his hand in annoyance as he was sitting in his new chair, sinking deep into the leather made from the skin of a type of pseudo-dragon known as a dragon snake. He felt the chair his father used was a rather sad piece of furniture and quickly ordered this to make the audience room his own.
The man who came barging into the audience room to shout at Julian was named Demetrius. He was a human already over ninety, but his hips and legs hadn’t failed him yet.
Demetrius was an academic of politics who taught even the current emperor of Martgarz. He was a wise man whose name was known throughout the Empire. Julian’s father, Kenneth, had called on several different teachers for Julian’s benefit, and Demetrius was one of them.
There was a good reason for the change in color of Demetrius’s face. Going after another country’s dracovitae was an absolutely forbidden act.
A country that lost its dracovitae would no longer be able to quell the raging power of the earth, making the land uninhabitable to humanoids. Stealing a dracovitae was synonymous with slaughtering an entire country’s worth of people, as it destroyed the country’s territory.
Humanoids may fight each other, but the people were valuable if conquered, not to mention the moral issues surrounding killing them all. And if something were to happen and war broke out between humanoids, the dragons, and the monsterfolk, the humanoid races would have to band together in order to survive. There were some lines that couldn’t be crossed because they lived under the constant threat of monsters and still carried the memory of the dragon war.
And while humanoids still found one reason or another to fight each other, there were some unwritten rules on how the dracovitae must be treated. You could only target a dracovitae deployed to a combat zone. The logic was that it would end up worse to use something that valuable in war, because of the risk of it being targeted (though the dracovitae were so powerful a war without them would not be possible).
If a dracovitae was stolen, the side that lost it was meant to quickly surrender in order to guarantee the safety of their people, and the side that stole the dracovitae would return it without complaint.
These rules of war were maintained through the constant vigilance of all the humanoid countries. If mediation made little progress, the surrounding countries would come together to pressure the participating countries for peace. If that broke down, the only thing that awaited was destruction, after all.
“It’s simple. All I have to do is use the power of the dracovitae to break through at Mount Kugus and conquer Setrayu,” said Julian like it was nothing. “The dracovitae will be used under my supervision to control the lands of Setrayu. Once it’s clear the people will be safe, there will be fewer of those losing dogs who bark about the rules. It’s not exactly easy to punish the winner, after all.”
Demetrius’s eyes grew wide in his heavily wrinkled face. Something similar had happened in a past war, but that dracovitae had been stolen during battle, and the attackers moved swiftly after laying political groundwork with the rulers.
That meant it was very different from what Julian did, stealing the dracovitae directly from the court without consulting anyone in advance, and Julian had realized that was the limit of what he could do as just a single lord.
There was a chance he would succeed, so he saw value in trying. He didn’t care what Martgarz thought about it. He also didn’t care if a thousand, even ten thousand Setrayuans died.
“And, if I kill all the current wielders of the dracovitae and have this girl carry my children, I will be the king of Setrayu in both name and fact,” said Julian with a pompous wave towards the girl sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. “Any who dare to oppose me would then be a threat to the people of Setrayu and an enemy of the world. Haha… Well, the crown of such a tiny country is hardly worthy of me, but being king wouldn’t be so bad. Even that backwater country could become something greater with me as its ruler.”
Monica’s head hung low beneath the weight of her despair, the Collar of Slavery around her neck along with a heavy neck guard to defend it.
The Hurricane of Insight was beside her, but she couldn’t wield it as she saw fit. Monica was now nothing more than a tool for using it when ordered to.
Demetrius grimaced. “Have you considered what would happen if you fail? What if the surrounding countries side with Setrayu? If you can’t put yourself on even footing with them instantly—”
“Just think of the future, a little. Setrayu will collapse after the loss of its dracovitae. It will no longer be able to support the Guffarr Union, and the Union too will be unable to stand. At that point, who exactly could criticize our country?”
“The entire humanoid world would lose trust in the Empire, and their children and their children’s children would curse us!”
“Between people and between countries, there are those who rule and those who are ruled over. Nothing else is possible. ‘Trust’ and ‘Friendship’ are nothing more than pretty mottos, just attempts to rename what is really happening. What is important is how does one rule in a way that cannot be resisted? And how does one soothe discontent, how does one force others to accept his rule?”
Julian stood from his chair, businesslike yet as opulent as a throne. Outside the window were rows of hundreds of roofs. Brilliant sunlight slanted in, illuminating his face.
“My country is strong. If the Union disappears and is no longer in the way, my country will become even stronger. No one will be able to destroy it. If they did, it would mean the end of the humanoid world. Freedom is only obtained once you have power and control. I…I want freedom.”
“What?!” said Demetrius. Julian turned around, and Demetrius was grinding his teeth so hard he seemed likely to crack a molar. “Julian, I was asked by the Marquess—”
“I am the Marquess now!”
“…I was asked by your father to teach you because he believed making this country powerful and peaceful was for the good of the people. It is not in order to turn the world into a blood-soaked battleground where people tear into each other like wolves! Those who rule and those who are ruled over? Fine! But didn’t I tell you that the rulers must have dignity?!” shouted Demetrius in defiance as he sat blocking the audience room’s door. “Let’s have a supplemental lesson! I will not move from this spot until you pass. If you insist on doing things as you are, then cut me down!”
“I see.” Julian drew the gem-studded sword placed as decoration. Just as he’d learned in sword lessons, he stepped quickly forward and slashed the old man in half as he sat defenseless.
“Ugh…gah…”
“You’re preventing me from doing my work. Get out of the way. …Tsk. Killing is dirtier than I anticipated,” remarked Julian.
Demetrius groaned, blood foaming from his mouth as he turned into nothing more than slabs of meat.
There was the rank smell of scattered organs, the dirtied carpet, Julian’s formal clothes for audiences now stained with blood spatter.
He couldn’t help clicking his tongue in frustration that his straightening things out would again require a cleanup.
The first time Julian killed a person through orders was when he threw his giant golem at Monica (and her guards) from a distance. He hadn’t felt anything then.
Now, he’d killed someone for the first time with his own hands, and still, he felt nothing.
“M-My lord, I heard a— Ah!”
“Clean this up. And get me a change of clothes.”
The servant who’d heard the scream rushed away, trembling as he went to get the tools for cleaning.
Julian watched emotionlessly, then looked at Monica.
“This girl is rather lacking in terms of body. Her chest is utterly flat. She may not quite be a penniless daughter of a merchant standing on the street at night, but…I lose any desire to impregnate her when I look at her… Is there anything I can do about that…?”
Monica sat in a haze, no further shock from seeing another person die before her, perhaps because she believed she was already at rock bottom. Her eyes were dry of all tears of fear at this point, and, if you listened very closely, you could hear her singing a lullaby in a faint voice.
It was the sort of song a mother sang to their baby in a crib… Julian felt there was a memory deep inside of hearing that grating lullaby.