Chapter 29 Chapter 1 Merilon's Emperor

At night, he tried to pat Malilong to lull him to sleep, but the hand that comforted him to sleep was pushed aside by those who were preparing for war.Joram commanded the citizens of the city, appointed Jarod as his military commander, and the two began to mobilize the people. Joram called a council of his people in the sacred grove, and they gathered before the tomb of the ancient mage who had brought them into this world, and many of the citizens of Merilon wondered if this would disturb the almost forgotten spirit. The eternal sleep of the century, is his dream coming to an end?In addition, is another magical kingdom about to be destroyed?

"This is a war to the death," Joram said grimly to his people. "The enemy is trying to eradicate our entire race, to wipe us out completely. On the battlefield of glory, they shamelessly attacked our innocent citizens. This is proof. They have no mercy, so neither do we Will be soft." He stopped.Now the silence among the crowd grew deeper and deeper until they were almost drowned in it.Joram stood on the podium above the grave, watched them, and said slowly, hard, word for word, "Each of them must die." No one cheered as Joram left the Sacred Grove , on the contrary, people immediately and silently throw themselves into their duties.The women trained with the men, and the old and infirm stayed behind to care for the children—many of whom might be orphaned when night fell on Simhallen again.

"That's fine," Mosiah's father said to his wife as the couple trained. "It's better than death." After a call, the fire warriors came to Malilong from all corners of the world through the teleportation corridor.Under their command, townspeople, including serf mages, are instructed how to fight the enemy with the cooperation of their catalyst saints. Mosiah's parents stood next to the elderly priest To himself who had served Valen for many years.Due to his advanced age, the mild-mannered and haggard serf mage could have stayed in the rear with his children, but he insisted on joining his fellow villagers in battle.

"I have never done anything worthwhile in my life," he said to Jacobs. "I've never had a moment to be proud of, let this be one." The outside world was pitch black, as if asleep, but Merilon was brightly lit.It was day under the dome--a day of dreadful, pressing fears, and the sun in the sky was the fire burning in the furnace.The craftsmen have quickly worked their magic, conjuring a furnace for the blacksmith.He and his sons and apprentices like Mosiah set to work repairing weapons damaged in previous battles and making new ones.While many in Merilon watch in horror as the Witchcrafters wield their dark techniques, the townspeople keep their fear to themselves and do what they can to help.

Zeldalar tended to the sick, buried the dead, and quickly began expanding the medical center and adding to the burial vaults.These druids know that by the time the moon rises tomorrow night, they will need more hospital beds... and more graves. The lower cities were full of people: the constant stream of Warlords of Fire from all over Simharon, Catalyst Saints from the Holy Mountains, and refugees swarming from the Wilderness.Unspeakable fear lingered in the air, the streets and alleys were so crowded that it was difficult to fly or walk.Coffee shops and taverns were packed with college students singing battle songs and eager for the honor of fighting.Duke Xisi walked through the streets like the embodiment of death, maintaining order and suppressing panic, while quietly driving away those students who were eager to perform their own magic. Their eagerness seemed to cause more damage to their own side than to their enemies. Danger.

The upper cities are likewise fully awake.Like the serf mages, many nobles were practicing for war.Sometimes their wives are standing by, but more often these noble ladies are opening their spacious houses to take in refugees or tend to the wounded.A countess is cooking herbs with her own hands, and a duchess is playing in the swan dome with a group of farm children whose parents are preparing for battle. Joram patrolled everywhere, and wherever he went, people cheered and saluted him.He was the savior of all, and Garrod wove Joram's real life into a romantic half-truth, which was then embroidered and embellished until it was almost unrecognizable .Joram tried to retort, but Prince Jarod told him to keep silent.

"The people need a hero now, a handsome king with a shining sword to lead them to battle! Not even Bishop Vanya dares to dethrone you. Think of your responsibility, if you don't, you will bring What for them?" Jarod asked contemptuously. "A living dead man with a demon sword, who came to bring destruction to this world? Win this war, drive the enemy from this land, and prove the prophecy wrong! Then you have the right to return to the people Before you, tell them the truth, if you want to." Joram reluctantly agreed.Jarod certainly knew what was right.The prince once said to him, I can be aboveboard, but you cannot.

No, I don't think I can.Joram thought.Even less can I when thousands of lives are in my hands. "Sincerely sets people free!" he repeated painfully to himself. "I seem to be destined to spend my life in chains!" It was nearly midnight when Joram was wandering alone in the garden of Lord Samuels' house.He had left the city and returned here—at the urging of Father Saryon—trying to get some rest before tomorrow. He could have moved into Crystal Palace.Looking up through the leaves of the cherry tree, Joram could see that the palace hung like a dark star in the night sky, all its lights out, and in the pale light of a new moon, almost invisible.

Joram shook his head and looked away hastily.He will never go back there again, this palace has deposited too many painful memories for him.It was there that he saw his dead mother for the first time; it was there that he heard the story of Anya's child's death; anonymous…… "I wish Amin would let that fate follow me for the rest of my life!" Joram stopped under the withered lilac branch covered in ice and snow, leaning on it, letting the cold water drip down from the leaves, soaking his white robe. "No name is better than too many names!" Gamaliel, a gift from God.The two names lingered in his mind together, as did the memory of his father.He could still see the old man's eyes... The thought made him tremble violently.Joram began to walk the dark path to warm himself.

At least the rain has stopped.A few Sihanas came overnight from other cities via the teleportation corridor to end the heavy rain.Some nobles demanded that the mages immediately change the weather back to spring, but Prince Jarod disagreed.The Sihana will be needed for the upcoming battle, they can end the rain and keep the temperature in Malilong moderate tonight, that's all.The nobles complained, but Joram—their new emperor—approved of Jarod, and they had nothing to say. But Joram could foresee constant disputes like this in the future.While walking, he stumbled.yes!He was so tired, almost exhausted.He slept fitfully last night, only to be haunted by dreams of two worlds, none of which wanted him—the real him.

I don't want any of them anymore.He realizes this wearily.Both have turned their backs on me, they have offered me nothing but lies, deceit and betrayal. "I won't be the emperor." He suddenly made up his mind. "When this is all over, I'll hand Merilon over to Prince Jarod to rule. He's a fine man, and he'll help make it a better place." But will he?can heGood, honorable, and noble though he was, he was an Albanara, one who was born with the magic needed to rule.He was used to diplomacy and compromise, and he loved court intrigue.Merilon's change, if that were the case, could be long. "I don't care," Joram said wearily. "I want to leave. I want to take Gwendelin and Father Saryon to live a peaceful life elsewhere, where it doesn't matter what my name is." He paced sullenly about the garden, longing to wear himself out so that he could sleep—the deep, dreamless kind.He found that he had come to the house, following the sound, he looked up and saw a window. Standing outside a downstairs room that had been converted into Gwendelyn's bedroom, he saw his wife in a rose-coloured nightgown with long sleeves, sitting in a chair in front of her dressing table, Let Mary comb her beautiful long golden hair.At the same time, she herself had been chatting enthusiastically with the dead earl, and some other people who were also dead. Lord Samuels and Lady Rosamund were also in their daughter's room, and it was their voices which attracted Joram's attention.They were standing near a window, talking to a man.That person, Joram recognized, was Zeldalla who had treated Father Saryon at Lord Samuels' house. Joram crept through the wet foliage, hiding in the dark garden shadow, to keep the light from the house from falling on him, and moved slowly towards the window to listen to their conversation. "Then there is nothing you can do for her?" said Mrs. Rosamund in a tone of entreaty. "I'm afraid not, ma'am." Zelda said bluntly. "I've seen many forms of psychosis in my life, but none like this. And I doubt she's crazy." The female druid shook her head, and gently rummaged through what she brought with her fingers, a large wooden box hanging beside her, which contained small packages of various powders, as well as bundles of various herbs and seeds. "What do you mean? Not mad?" asked Lord Samuels. "Talking to dead earls, talking endlessly about rats in the attic—" "Crazy is a state in which he or she will fall into it whether he or she wants to or not." Zelda raised his chin and said, staring at Lord Samuels. "Sometimes it is caused by a physical disorder, sometimes by a mental disorder. I will tell you, sir and madam, that there is nothing wrong with your daughter, and if she talks to the dead, it is because of her Clearly preferring their company to the company of the living. From what I've gathered of how some living people treated her, I can't blame her too much." Zelda La made some comments, and after dispensing the medicine with satisfaction, she went to get her cloak. "I have to go back to the health center to take care of those who were wounded in that brutal battle last time," she said as a servant helped her into her coat. "You are lucky that I happen to be in the vicinity, otherwise I would not have time to see you in this situation. Too many people depend on me to survive." "We really appreciate you very much," said Lady Rosamund, twisting the ring on her finger. "But I don't understand! Surely you can do something!" They followed Zelda to the door of Gwen's bedroom, and Joram kept approaching the window, and finally had to press his face against the pane to listen to Zelda's answer.He could have saved himself the trouble, for Zeldalar's answer was loud and clear. "Ma'am," she said, holding a finger up in the air as if it were a flagpole on which she was about to hang her words. "Your daughter chooses who she is and where she is. She may live her life that way, or she may decide at breakfast tomorrow that she is not. To a world that doesn't look much better to me. I have to go back to people who really need me. If you get any advice from me, do what your daughters say: Hang up that Count what's his name, and buy a cat." The teleportation corridor opened, and Zeldalar disappeared in it instantly.Lord and Lady Samuels looked at her back sadly, and then turned back listlessly.In the bedroom, Mary was trying to persuade Gwen to go to bed.But Gwendelyn went on chatting blithely with her invisible friends as if she had heard nothing. "My friends, why are you all so agitated! I don't understand why. You say that terrible things will happen tomorrow, but terrible things always happen tomorrow. What a difference. I'll be with you tonight, though, if you think it will be of any help... Now, Lord Devon, tell us more about the rats. Dead, you say, no stay any trace of blood..." "Another dead mouse!" Mrs. Rosamund leaned her head on her husband's chest. "I hope she's dead herself, my poor child!" "Shh, don't say that!" Lord Samuels put his arms around his wife tightly. "Really!" cried Lady Rosamund. "What kind of life is she living?" Lord Samuels put his arms around his wife, and led her out of his daughter's room.Mary still took care of her duties, sitting in a chair by the bed.Ge Wen leaned on the pillow carefree, talking to the air. Though Joram was shivering from the biting cold, he stood in the dark garden with his head pressed against the windowpane. As the groom, you will only bring her sadness... The words of the Catalyst Saint echoed in the depths of his soul, more and more mournfully.Long ago, Joram had dreamed of becoming a nobleman, once he had wealth and power, everything in life would be fine.Now, he is Merilon's emperor, and has wealth, but has nothing he wants to buy, he has squandered the only thing of value he ever had; now he has power, and is using it to fight a war War—a war that will cost countless lives. Corpses lay in disarray on the scorched grass... Small, fluffy corpses lay in disarray on the attic floor... My fault!I made it with my own hands!No matter what I do, the prophecy will come true!Maybe I can't stop it at all!Or maybe I just don't have a choice.Maybe I'm being dragged relentlessly to the brink... "Damn it!" he cursed at the dark, gloomy sky. "Why do you treat me like this?" In desperation and resentment... He clenched his fist and swung it vigorously at the trunk of a small spruce tree. "Ouch!" With a shrill scream, Yunshan gasped and fell down.The trunk writhed in agony on the ground, the leaves rustled, and the whole tree groaned at Joram's feet.