＊
That night in the assembly hall, Gaius stood before most of the villagers and made his announcement.
“I’ve decided I will not be the chief of your village.”
The kobolds responded with gasps of surprise and disappointed sighs. Rain Grass and Emon, on the other hand, stood up and shouted.
“Why not, Gaius?!” demanded Rain Grass. “You know we don’t care that you’re human! Or do you just not want to do it?”
“Yeah, gramps!” Emon added. “Everyone’s practically beggin’ ye tae lead ’em!”
Darke stood behind Emon, and clamped a hand down on his shoulder. “That’s enough. Listen to what he has to say.”
Red Eye grabbed Rain Grass’s tail and yanked hard, urging his friend to calm down.
“I believe that it is best for the village’s sake if I don’t take on that role.” Gaius replied.
“I don’t get it,” Rain Grass protested. “We’d be much better off with you at the top. We’d finally stand a chance against the humans, and against the magic beasts in the forest. Your strength gives us hope.”
“And I’m glad for that. But what will you all do after I die? I could fall ill, or be cut down in battle, or succumb to some kind of accident. And even if none of that happened, I’m only growing older by the day. I’m not invincible, Rain Grass.”
Rain Grass had no response to that.
“What will you do then? What will your children do? And their children?”
“I-I’d...fight with all I’ve got...”
“Can you guarantee you’ll win every battle?”
“No, but...we could always make a run for it again...leave the village behind...”
“I doubt you’d find a more habitable place than this in all the Greatwood.”
“Probably not...” Rain Grass’s usual explosive conviction had vanished, each reply more meek than the last.
“That’s right. There’s nowhere else for you to run...”
A heavy silence fell over the entire room.
“...So running away is no longer an option. This is no longer just a village that can be abandoned or rebuilt. I’m going to make this our kingdom.”
Everyone looked at him in stunned surprise, still reeling from their earlier disappointment.
“I won’t become the chief just so we can scrape by and survive this crisis, or the next, or the next. I swear that I will dedicate everything I have to building a strong kingdom where you and your children can enjoy a future in peace.”
Gaius bared his teeth like a snarling beast. But the kobolds—now his subjects—knew him well enough to know what that expression on Gaius’s face truly meant.
“...King...”
The word floated seemingly by itself out into the air, muttered by no one in particular. The kobolds had heard it only once or twice, in fantastic tales of days long gone. As more and more kobolds recalled the unfamiliar word, or heard those around them say it, they too tried it out for themselves.
“King...”
“He’s our king!”
“The Kobold King!”
The curious murmurs soon swelled into triumphant cries, as the kobolds turned to each other and exclaimed it again and again.
“Long live the Kobold King!” One aged voice stood out among the rest. The phrase spread like wildfire:
“Long live the king!”
“Long live the Kobold King!”
“Long live King Gaius!”
“Long live our kingdom!”
The new royal subjects gathered around their king as they cheered, and those who were closest to him enveloped him in an embrace. More and more kobolds clambered over each other for the chance to hug Gaius, and soon he was completely buried in furry bodies. He fell onto his backside under a mountain of soft, fluffy fur.
Sashalia walked up to Gaius, leaning on Darke for support. With great effort, she knelt before him.
“Miss Sashalia. Darke. Will you lend me your aid?”
The red-headed half-elf wavered slightly.
“Six years... For six years, I’ve waited to hear those words,” she said. “As unworthy as I am, I vow to help you however I can. I will be your sword or your councilor, whatever you need.”
“Thank you very much, Miss Sashalia.” Gaius smiled at her. Clearly, she meant what she’d said from the bottom of her heart. Sashalia nodded back at him, sniffling.
Darke held onto Sashalia’s shoulder with one hand to help her stay upright. She made a fist with her remaining hand and placed it over her heart—the salute of the Knights of the Chain.
“My life is yours, now more so than ever. Please, use me in whatever way you wan—gah!” Her strange pledge was cut short by a sharp elbow to the stomach by Sashalia. Darke lost her balance and tumbled over, bringing the half-elf down with her. Emon pointed at the spectacle and laughed heartily.
“Emon, will you help me as well?” said Gaius.
“Do ye even need tae ask, gramps?”
“Ha ha ha, I suppose not.”
The young dwarf wedged himself between the two women, who had begun arguing, and stood before Gaius as well. The Kobold King held his hand out, and Emon firmly took it. Behind them, everyone rejoiced, their joyous cries echoing throughout the moonlit forest.
＊
The coronation was held the very next day. As they were still in a time of war, the ceremony was modest and simple. Surrounded by every kobold in the village, one of the children placed a crown on Gaius’s head.
It was a simple crown made of vines and grass, woven together by the kobold children. Gaius had decreed that the Kobold King should always wear a crown made of grass, vines, or flowering plants—one woven by those whose futures he swore to protect.
After all, that was the role of a king: to ensure a brighter future for his kingdom, for his people. The ones who truly made a ruler were his subjects—and their children.
The tiny kobold that had been appointed crown-bearer that day clambered down from Gaius’s shoulders. He waited until the child was safely back on the ground before standing. His people cheered and cried in jubilation.
“Long live the Kobold King!”
“Long live the kingdom!”
The king waved back at his subjects.
Baron Gaius Beldarus. Captain of Igris’s Royal Knights of the Chain.
Once upon a time, he had held those titles. But now, he was...the Kobold King.
Indeed, that was his true role.