Chapter 3: The Great Ruler’s First Errand

By the time I finished breakfast, my loyal maid was still standing nearby, watching me with that same unchanging expression. It was the look of someone silently evaluating an unemployed man.

I flashed her a wide grin. "Heh... Liz, even when you stare at me with those cold eyes, you're still beautiful."

She didn't answer. She didn't even blink. Her face remained as expressionless as polished marble.

"..."

"Alright, alright." I surrendered, raising both hands. "Let's get started. What happened while I was asleep?"

I popped the last piece of cake into my mouth, savoring its sweetness as I leaned back in my chair. As the Supreme Ruler of the Calder Continent—which, admittedly, was a little embarrassing considering the continent was named after me—it was technically my responsibility to remain informed about every major event taking place across these lands.

Liz opened the report without hesitation.

"My Lord, according to the latest reports, there has been a significant increase in monster activity in the southwestern region of the continent. This coincides with the sudden expansion of the Mist Rift. Casualties at the border fortress continue to rise despite the arrival of reinforcements."

She calmly moved on to the next report.

"The second report concerns unidentified terrorist activity disrupting the continental mana lines. The Tower Master is currently working to contain the situation."

Another page.

"The third report concerns the diplomatic crisis between the Vikmond Clan and the Salvador Clan. Relations have deteriorated to the brink of open war."

Normally, this was the point when my consciousness would begin drifting back toward sleep.

This time, however, my eyes opened fully.

"...What?"

I frowned. "Why is this report here?"

Liz met my gaze directly, without the slightest hesitation.

"As you can see, these matters require your immediate intervention."

"No."

I lazily pointed at the report. "I understand the first problem." Then I pointed at the second. "I understand the second. But what does a diplomatic dispute between two clans have to do with me?"

I sighed. "I know how irresponsible that sounds coming from someone who calls himself the Supreme Ruler, but given my position, I generally avoid interfering in political affairs."

Liz carefully folded her hands before answering.

"My Lord, the root of this conflict goes back to the ancestors of both clans. It requires a higher authority to resolve the matter and mediate between them. Such intervention is one of the virtues of a competent ruler."

Her blue eyes settled on me.

"And the only person capable of effectively intervening there is you."

"Yes. So what's the real reason?"

"It would be good for you to walk a little and move your body after awakening."

I blinked.

"...What?"

Then she smiled.

I raised my thumb. "I like that."

Without saying another word, I waved my hand, and a transparent blue screen appeared before me. I quickly located their position and, after a brief search, pinpointed the source of the problem.

"...Found you."

The screen dissolved into countless blue particles.

My destination—

The Western Side of the Calder Continent

The western part of the continent was ruled by three great clans: the Vikmond Clan, the Salvador Clan, and the Marilz Clan. Each controlled a territory containing several cities under its jurisdiction, while the largest city in the region stood at the center. Jointly governed by all three clans, it served as the political center of the west.

On the outskirts of the city, high among the hills, stood a magnificent and sprawling castle. A warm breeze swept through its gardens, carrying the fragrance of blooming flowers beneath the bright morning sky.

The peaceful scenery was immediately ruined by two elderly men shouting at each other loudly enough to frighten the birds from the trees.

"LOOK AT YOUR FAMILY! A BUNCH OF BRAIN-DEAD IDIOTS!"

The roar was so loud that several birds abandoned the nearby trees in a panic.

The man responsible was an elderly gentleman with a thick white beard reaching down to his chest. Sweat trickled along his wrinkled face, and the veins on his forehead bulged as though they were preparing to escape his skull.

He was Lucian Salvador, head of the Salvador Clan.

"YOU'RE THE IDIOT!" the other man shouted back. "YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY IS FULL OF IDIOTS, YOU MUSCLE-BOUND BARBARIAN!"

Eric Vikmond, head of the Vikmond Clan, jabbed a finger toward Lucian's chest.

"Honestly, I'm amazed you've survived this long without someone having to explain how to breathe!"

Eric looked slightly younger than his rival, despite his gray hair. His appearance was considerably more refined, too. His hair was neatly groomed, his elegant robe remained free of wrinkles, and he possessed not a single strand of beard worth mentioning.

Naturally, Lucian considered this a personal insult.

Eric, meanwhile, had found something else to be offended by.

"Muscle-bound idiot?" He looked down at his own arms, then slowly clenched his fists. The muscles in his forearms bulged beneath his sleeves. "YOU'RE CALLING ME A MUSCLE-BOUND IDIOT?"

He thrust one arm forward.

"LOOK AT THIS!"

Lucian stared at it.

Eric raised his chin proudly.

"I spent my entire life building these muscles!"

Lucian remained silent for a moment.

Then he tilted his head.

"Your entire life?"

"Yes!"

"And you're proud of that?"

"Of course!"

Lucian examined the old man's arm once more before sighing with the weary disappointment of a teacher who had just discovered that his student had eaten the homework.

"An entire lifetime of training... and the only thing you have to brag about is the size of your arms?"

Silence descended upon the garden.

Even the fountain seemed less enthusiastic about its job.

Eric slowly lowered his arm.

His expression darkened.

"...Repeat that."

Lucian's lips curled into a small, wicked smile.

"I said your muscles are worthless against magic."

"You..."

Eric's mouth twitched.

"You fossilized old bastard! My muscles could crush every bone in your skinny body ten times over in a single second!"

"Oh, good. We've returned to the insults."

"YOU FOUL-SMELLING OLD MAN!"

"Foul-smelling?" Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"YES, YOU!"

Lucian stroked his magnificent beard.

"My smell is still better than your beard."

Eric froze.

"...My beard?"

Lucian grabbed his beard with both hands, looking deeply offended.

"I spent a hundred years growing this!"

"And it shows."

Lucian's hands stopped moving.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Say it."

"I said nothing."

"Say it, you coward!"

Lucian hesitated, as though debating whether the next words were worth the trouble.

Then he sighed.

"I was merely going to say that I've seen oak trees that look better groomed than your beard."

For a moment, Eric could only stare at him.

Then his gaze dropped to his chest, where the magnificent white beard rested.

"This beard carries the history of my family!"

"It also carries your breakfast."

Lucian went still.

Slowly, he looked down.

A tiny piece of bread was caught between the white hairs.

He plucked it out so quickly that, under different circumstances, I might have mistaken him for a master thief. Then he closed his fist around it and straightened his back.

"This..." He cleared his throat. "This is part of its decoration."

"Of course."

"SHUT UP!"

Eric burst into laughter.

"HA! EVEN YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT!"

"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU IDIOT!"

Lucian raised his staff.

Eric raised his arm.

For several seconds, the two old men stood facing each other, radiating enough hostility to make the flowers nearby seem reluctant to bloom.

Then Eric narrowed his eyes.

"Do you really want to start a fight here?"

Lucian scoffed.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"Me?!" Lucian laughed. "I'm only worried you'll die of exhaustion before you even reach me!"

"YOU BASTARD!"

"You're the one who started this!"

Eric stared at him in disbelief.

"ME?"

"Yes."

"YOU STARTED INSULTING MY FAMILY!"

"BECAUSE YOUR FAMILY DESERVES TO BE INSULTED!"

"And yours doesn't?"

"My family is great!"

Eric's jaw dropped.

"Your family stole a book from us thirty years ago!"

"We did not steal it!"

"YOU DID!"

"We borrowed it!"

"For THIRTY YEARS!"

"We needed time to read it!"

Eric threw both hands into the air.

"THIRTY YEARS TO READ A BOOK?!"

"It was a big book!"

Lucian stared at him.

His expression emptied of all emotion, as though his soul had temporarily abandoned his body in search of a more intelligent conversation.

"...The book had four hundred and thirty pages."

"The pages were complicated!"

"You're all idiots."

"What would a mage know about martial arts anyway?!"

Lucian tightened his grip on his staff.

"You're in my debt, you idiot!"

Silence.

The two men glared at each other.

And that was when I finally arrived.

In a world governed by swords and magic, there were individuals who had surpassed the limits of ordinary humanity.

Heroes.

Legends.

Men and women whose names were spoken with reverence, whose achievements had earned them countless titles, and whose strength was sufficient to alter the fate of entire regions.

Some were revered as Truth Mages.

Others were feared as Martial Masters.

And standing before me were two of the greatest heroes on the entire continent.

Two individuals who possessed enough power to destabilize entire regions if they ever decided to stop holding back.

Yet here they were, screaming at each other like a pair of old men fighting over discounted vegetables at a crowded Friday market.

I watched them for three seconds.

That was all I needed.

"...You two are mentally deficient bastards."

Neither of them heard me.

Of course they didn't.

They were too busy debating whether borrowing a book for thirty years constituted theft.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

This was why I hated politics.

Not because it was complicated. Not because it was dangerous.

But because, sooner or later, someone always dragged me into dealing with people like these.

I raised one hand.

Mana surged through the air.

Space rippled in front of me, bending inward as a thin spatial distortion unfolded like the surface of disturbed water. Beyond it lay the garden, the two idiots, and what I could only assume was the final stage of civilization's decline.

I stepped through.

The world twisted for an instant.

Then the distortion closed behind me without leaving so much as a flicker.

I was standing directly behind them.

Neither noticed.

I watched Eric jab a finger into Lucian's chest.

I watched Lucian raise his staff a little higher.

I watched a nearby gardener quietly abandon his tools and disappear behind a hedge.

Then I smiled.

A vein throbbed at my temple.

"You bastards."

Both men froze.

The silence was immediate.

Their shoulders stiffened. Their hands stopped moving. Even Eric's finger remained suspended in the air, just inches from Lucian's chest.

Slowly, very slowly, they turned around.

Their eyes landed on me.

Once.

Then they rubbed their eyes.

Twice.

Their expressions changed so dramatically that, for a moment, I wondered whether I'd accidentally cast a transformation spell on them.

Their eyes widened.

Their faces paled.

Then they exchanged a glance.

And just like that, the two greatest heroes in the western region transformed into the most affectionate friends I had ever seen.

"MY GREAT RULER!"

"YOU'RE AWAKE!"

Eric rushed forward with tears in his eyes.

"If we'd known you were coming, we would've prepared the grandest celebration in history!"

"Indeed!" Lucian hurriedly agreed, grabbing Eric by the shoulders as though the two had never exchanged an insult in their lives. "A celebration worthy of your glorious presence!"

"Hahaha! Exactly!"

"Hahaha! Of course!"

They embraced.

They laughed.

They nearly cried.

Watching them, one might have thought that they had just been reunited after decades of separation.

Unfortunately for them, I knew better.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Oh, I know exactly what you two were planning."

Their laughter faltered.

"You were going to turn everything upside down..."

I took one step forward.

"...then clean everything up and hide the evidence before I woke up."

Both men stiffened.

Eric's smile became painfully rigid.

Lucian suddenly found the sky fascinating.

"Now, now, Your Majesty," Eric began, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "I'm sure we can discuss this matter in a perfectly reasonable—"

I summoned my steel staff.

"...calm manner," he finished weakly.

I examined the weapon, then added a small pain-enhancement spell to its surface.

Just to be safe.

The spell shimmered faintly before disappearing into the metal.

I looked at the two legendary heroes.

Then I smiled.

It was a gentle smile. An affectionate smile. The sort of smile a kind grandfather might offer his grandchildren before giving them a present.

Both men went pale.

"No..."

"Great Ruler, please. Let us explain—"

"S-S-Sir..."

"Y-Your Majesty, w-wait..."

Too late.

CRACK!

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

WHACK!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The peaceful garden erupted into a symphony of suffering.

Moments later, shrill screams echoed across the castle grounds, accompanied by the occasional thud and the desperate pleas of two men who had apparently forgotten that running away was an option.

The birds fled again.

The gardener, who had briefly considered returning to work, decided that unemployment was preferable.

And I, the Supreme Ruler of the Calder Continent, fulfilled my duty to maintain peace and harmony.

One beating at a time.

...

After Rowan left, and the debt had been settled with a heart overflowing with kindness, two battered bodies slowly rose like zombies.

Their clothes were disheveled, their bodies covered in bruises, and their blackened eyes made them resemble a pair of oversized pandas.

Lucian lowered himself onto a stone bench with a groan.

"My God..." Lucian rubbed his face with both hands. "I'm arguing with the dumbest man on the continent."

Eric sat down opposite him.

"And I'm arguing with the most boring man on the continent."

Lucian turned.

"...Boring?"

"Yes."

"You're the one who's been talking about a book for ten minutes!"

"Because it was a stolen book!"

"Borrowed!"

"Stolen!"

"Borrowed!"

"Stolen!"

"Borrowed!"

Their voices gradually grew louder.

Then both men stopped.

They stared at each other.

A long silence followed.

Finally, Lucian sighed.

"You know..."

Eric lifted his teacup, took a careful sip, and lowered it again.

"What?"

"I hope this little performance was worth taking all those beatings."

Eric gave a weary smile.

"I hope so too. Though I expected to pay the price, not take a steel staff to the face."

Lucian nodded sympathetically.

"Same."

For a while, neither spoke.

The morning breeze drifted through the garden, carrying away the last traces of their earlier shouting. The flowers remained intact, the fountain continued to flow, and the birds cautiously began returning to the trees.

It was almost peaceful again.

Almost.

Lucian leaned back against the bench.

"Years of waiting in this city..." he murmured. "Manipulating public opinion, spreading rumors, maintaining this ridiculous act..."

He glanced toward the direction in which I had disappeared.

"All that effort, and we still ended up getting beaten half to death."

Eric winced as he touched a particularly painful bruise.

"At least he didn't ask too many questions."

"True."

The humor gradually faded from Lucian's face.

"The disasters are escalating. The Rift is expanding, and it's getting harder to contain the situation without drawing attention."

Eric's expression grew serious as well.

"Everyone can feel it. Something is coming."

He turned his gaze toward the distant horizon.

"And when it does, this region will be one of the first places affected."

Lucian nodded slowly.

"Which is precisely why retreating and observing the situation is the most sensible course of action."

Eric let out a quiet chuckle.

"When the sky falls, the Great Ruler will be there to hold it up."

"Isn't that right?"

Lucian smiled faintly.

"Exactly."

For a brief moment, they sat in silence, watching the morning light spill across the distant hills.

Then Eric seemed to remember something.

"What about Alexander Marilz?"

Lucian turned to him.

"Alexander?"

"That hot-headed bastard. Is he going to be alright?"

Lucian shrugged.

"Who knows? With that strength of his, he's practically a flaming gorilla. He'll probably be fine."

He paused.

"...Provided nothing on the level of the Tower Master explodes in his face."

Eric snorted.

"That's reassuring."

"Glad to be of service."

Another silence settled between them.

Then Lucian reached for the teapot.

"Tea?"

Eric eyed him suspiciously.

"Did you poison it?"

"I was considering it."

"Funny. I was considering poisoning yours, too."

Lucian poured himself a cup.

"Great minds think alike."

"Idiots think alike."

"Same difference."

Eric laughed.

Lucian joined him, and for a brief moment, the two old enemies seemed to forget the bruises, the arguments, and the absurdity of their situation.

Then Lucian lifted the teapot again.

"Sugar?"

"Three spoonfuls."

Lucian paused.

"...Three?"

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No."

Lucian added three spoonfuls of sugar to the cup.

Then he added three to his own.

The two men raised their cups.

Clink.

"Idiots."

"Barbarians."

They drank.

Beneath the morning sun, while the birds cautiously returned to the trees, the two men resumed their argument. This time, however, their voices were much calmer.

After years of hostility, the two old men had finally reached the greatest truce between their families, all thanks to the Great Ruler who spread love and friendship wherever he went.

...Though, apparently, his method of spreading love and friendship involved beating two legendary heroes half to death with a steel staff.