From soldier to king

Chapter 2The Court

A line of Vantorian knights clad in black and purple steel armor, wielding broad swords and draped in red cloaks, stood vigilant outside the palace walls. Today marked the third anniversary of His Majesty Emperor Shagru’s ascension to the throne, as well as the day he would crown his empress. These knights, part of the royal household’s “Savage Lion Regiment,” were on high alert to ensure that nothing would ruin their master’s—Emperor Shagru’s—good mood.

However, the more one fears trouble, the more likely it is to come knocking. A sweat-drenched horse, burdened with a soldier in light leather armor, galloped desperately towards the palace gates. Behind them, thirty light-armored warriors of the “Jaguar Regiment,” responsible for the capital's defense, pursued on foot with enraged expressions. The horse, exhausted from a long journey, began to slow down, but the warriors—each possessing extraordinary skills—quickly closed the gap.

Just as the horse was about to reach the palace gates, three blurred figures flashed by, and a sword light so sharp it seemed capable of slicing through the earth cut through the air with a shrill whistle. The mighty warhorse, bred on the northern deserts of the empire, stood three heads taller than an average person. Yet in an instant, it was torn into hundreds of pieces by the sword's ruthless strike, blood and flesh raining down in a gruesome shower over a radius of several meters.

The pursuing light-armored warriors halted their charge and immediately prepared to salute, but the armored knight who had cut down the horse let out a cold snort and swung his sword toward the soldier in leather armor, who had fallen to the ground and was struggling to rise.

Seeing the enormous sword descending upon him, the soldier cried out in panic, "My lord, my lord, it’s a war report from the border… ‘Iron Blood Fortress’ has fallen, and General Shalin… he, he betrayed us!"

The heavy sword halted mere inches from the soldier’s head. Behind them, the light-armored warriors gasped in shock, while dozens of nearby armored knights quickly approached. A tall knight in golden armor, clearly a senior officer of the “Savage Lion Regiment,” heard the commotion and rushed out of the palace with a few knights in tow. In a stern voice, he barked, "Silence! What are you doing?"

The knight who had slain the horse immediately saluted, then quietly reported, "War report: ‘Iron Blood Fortress’ has fallen, and General Shalin has betrayed the empire… It appears that the Smart Empire has launched an attack."

The ominous news spread quickly through the palace's channels. The soldier who had narrowly avoided being killed as a suspected attacker was promptly awarded military merit on the spot by an officer of the “Savage Lion Regiment” and was then escorted to the military headquarters for rest. Even without formal orders, mobilization commands were already being issued to the “Savage Lion,” “Jaguar,” and “Swift Wolf” regiments. The capital’s defenses were suddenly tightened a hundredfold.

Inside the palace's grand hall, the gaunt, sharp-featured Minister of State of the Vantorian Empire held a wine glass, smiling as he lavished attention on a young, beautiful lady before him. Though she appeared no older than sixteen—young enough to be his granddaughter—the way he affectionately embraced her waist would lead any onlooker to believe they were a perfect couple.

As for the girl’s father, an earl of the empire, he mingled with other nobles, casting proud glances at his daughter, who was nearly nestled in the minister’s arms, a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

A court usher, dressed in red, quietly approached the Minister of State, his steps as silent as a cat. He leaned in and whispered a few words into the minister's ear. The minister’s expression shifted dramatically from spring warmth to winter chill. He immediately asked, “Where is the chancellor? The Minister of Defense? The Minister of War? Find them at once… Where is His Majesty?”

Meanwhile, one of the central figures of the celebration—the intended empress, daughter of the illustrious Grand Duke Grome—sat alone on the throne, surrounded by a crowd of palace maids swathed in layers of silk. Yet, the most important guest, His Majesty Emperor Shagru, was nowhere to be found.

The Minister of State quickly pinched the young lady’s behind before hastily joining a group of similarly gaunt old men. After a tense discussion, an elderly man, wearing the uniform of a senior commander adorned with over thirty military medals, joined them. After a brief exchange, the commander strode out of the palace, followed closely by a dozen knights of the “Savage Lion Regiment.”

As for the Minister of State and his companions, they menacingly pressured the palace’s chief steward, a man dressed in an impeccably pressed red and gold uniform, with hair curled into waves. The chief steward reluctantly led the imperial ministers deeper into the palace. Of course, no one noticed the chancellor secretly passing a shiny object into the steward’s hand, which quickly disappeared as the steward adjusted his uniform.

After walking down a long hallway adorned with oil paintings of scantily clad beauties, the chief steward stopped before an oak door. Six palace guards stood watch, their sharp eyes scrutinizing the approaching ministers.

The chief steward, tall and stern with a dignified air, made a subtle gesture indicating the guards should step aside. Then, he silently withdrew to stand behind the ministers.

The chancellor stepped forward and demanded quietly, “Move aside! Is His Majesty inside?”

One of the guards, his chest adorned with a badge featuring seven golden sparrows—a mark of noble blood—replied stiffly, “I apologize, Your Excellency, but His Majesty is currently engaged in state matters and should not be disturbed.”

The chancellor paused, his gaze fixed on the guard’s family crest. The guard subtly shifted his grip on his sword, meeting the chancellor’s glare with equal intensity.

The chancellor grunted and stepped back, his eyes flashing coldly with calculations. The Minister of War, however, stepped forward, growling, “Move, or I’ll send you to the northern frontier to tend horses. You have one minute to reconsider, and I’ll make sure your family’s officers and bureaucrats are reassigned to the border provinces.”

The chancellor chimed in dryly, “The Satu Province could certainly use some volunteers to manage its affairs.”

The Minister of State added quickly, “Rest assured, His Majesty will not blame you. We have urgent matters to discuss with him.”

After a brief exchange of glances, the six guards stepped aside. The palace steward shrugged, but quickly corrected his posture, pulling out a golden handkerchief to dab his lips, masking his earlier misstep.

The chancellor, Minister of State, Minister of War, and Minister of Defense entered the room. Among them, the Minister of War, a man hardened by years in the military, pushed the door with a force that splintered the lock. The ministers stepped inside.

Emperor Shagru, ruler of the Vantorian Empire and the man who would crown an empress today, stood shirtless, holding a beautiful blonde woman. His hands roamed her bare back, while her long skirt barely clung to her hips, exposing smooth, pale skin to the shocked ministers and the palace steward.

Recovering quickly, the chancellor bowed and said, “Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion. We have urgent matters to discuss and could not make you aware due to the soundproofing of your office door.”

Shagru, regaining his composure, waved his hand. The palace steward immediately shut the door and pressed his face against it, shielding the room with his back.

The Minister of State, efficient as ever, retrieved a torn lady’s cloak from the floor and handed it to Shagru, who carelessly passed it to the woman before hastily arranging his clothes. The woman, unfazed, adjusted her hair and took out a small sandalwood fan, fanning herself as if nothing had happened.

The ministers couldn’t help but admire her. This enchanting woman was none other than the wife of Duke Green, the prominent lord of the southern frontier.

Once Shagru finished dressing, he asked, “So, what’s the matter? I was just discussing tax issues with the Duchess of Green’s husband when you barged in. Surely you wouldn’t interrupt us without a good reason… What’s happened?”

The Minister of State silently praised the emperor’s poise, thinking, "Although only thirty years old, His Majesty already has the demeanor of a true ruler. A little more self-control, especially around Lady Green, and he’d be perfect."

The Minister of War stepped forward, bowing slightly as he reported, “Your Majesty, the Smart Empire has launched an attack.”

Shagru raised an eyebrow, muttering, “Oh? Just six months ago, we were close allies, and now we’re at war? I must admit, I’m surprised. There are no permanent friends, it seems. That damned Felin must be after our southern plains—our most crucial source of grain.”

After a moment of contemplation, Shagru broke into a smile. “Very well, let them come. The Smart Empire may have the most powerful mages on the continent, but we have the strongest knights and the largest army. The ‘Iron Blood Fortress’ will crush their ambitions. Don’t they know it’s impregnable?”

The Minister of War took a deep breath, glancing nervously at the emperor’s relaxed demeanor. Noticing the unease, Shagru asked, “What is it, Sidoc? Speak up.”

The Minister