Chapter 208

Empire Engulfed (IX)

The group dispersed outside the tavern rather swiftly, all moving their own ways, with only Cain, Senna, and the ‘royal trio’ as they were dubbed remaining behind.

“I... I thought you were kidding,” Senna glanced at him with a strange look in her eyes.

“I never kid.”

“That’s all you do, kid.”

“One of us is a kid, the other one just kids.”

“... can... can we stop, please?”

“Alright,” Cain replied with a grin. “Anna informed me of some underground tunnels that I thought of checking out. Apparently, some of them lead to the political prisoners...”

“... and you wanna release them?”

“No, what gave you that impression?”

“...” Senna clenched her fists angrily trying her best to ignore his grinning and playful face, taking a deep breath afterward to calm down. “F-fine. What... what do you wanna do, then?”

“Why are you getting angry? Oh~ is it... is it maybe that time of--” Cain ducked as a fist came streaming directly toward his nose, dipping backward and dodging a follow-up roundhouse kick aimed for his head. Senna’s flushed face came into view and he realized he may have pushed it a bit too far. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop messing around,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t wanna release them, not yet anyway. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make acquaintance with them, right? Perhaps, we can use them during the chaotic times ahead.”

“... I still don’t see why you ‘needed’ me.”

“There might a fight.”

“One which, I’m sure, you could easily win.”

“Not without putting in some effort.”

“...”

“...”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna be honest with me?” Senna quizzed.

“But... I am?”

“THAT’S EVEN WORSE!! JUST HOW FUCKING LAZY ARE YOU?!!”

“Fairly so~~”

“Ugh...” Anna, Mina, and Sebas stared strangely at the scene in front of them; from the implications, they knew that the girl wasn’t Cain’s direct daughter -- but rather an adoptive one. Yet, it was difficult to spot any difference. The way they bounced off of each other was as though they had a whole lifetime to practice.

“Look at what you’ve done now,” Cain said suddenly. “Our new friends are looking at us strangely. They must think we’re some sort of freaks. Tsk, tsk, this is why I told you you need to temper your temper or it will--it will...”

“... become an unstable template?” Senna mumbled subconsciously.

“...”

“Stop.”

“...”

“No!”

“...!”

“Don’t... don’t look at me with so much pride!!!”

The days following the invasion were rather busy for the Kingdom; not only was the talk dominated by the newcomers that swept through the battlefields, but there was also the matter of the ‘Moonmen’ as they were called finally making a public statement -- due to the commands of the ‘Holy Above’, they wished the Kingdom would leave them alone to practice in their prayers.

This sent shockwaves throughout the Kingdom as it was essentially a declaration of independence of sorts; it meant that the Kingdom would be unable to force them to do anything, and since they had a massive support from the commoners, it would be difficult to retaliate -- at least openly.

Qyne listened to the reports of his shabbily-dressed and barefooted subordinates, his eyebrows scrounging up further and further; he didn’t expect his declaration to just be accepted, but it seems like he mistimed something. In his defense, however, it was now or never -- after all, the newcomers that swept through the battlefields had forced his hands.

From what his subordinates reported, his declaration had united the opposing royal factions at least on one front -- they saw him and his group as a major threat now. As such, they’d begun occupying means of how Lunar Children actually earned their living -- merely a day after his declaration, the Crown imposed massive taxation on all forms of donation. Technically speaking, they weren’t directly interfering with the organization, but they may as well have as they’ve cut off over half of their direct income.

There was also the issue of them tightening the rope around the Lunar Stone as instead of proclaiming it the ‘Kingdom’s Treasure’, they simply stated they were worried about the ‘Kingdom’s safety’.

Qyne sighed, cursing them; it wasn’t odd. He never expected to win through the mind games -- after all, before becoming the leader of this group, he was just an ordinary, barely-educated lad. Whatever stories and mysteries began circulating outside, they were all lies. Unlike him, who had virtually no experience in politics, the Royalty was the cesspool of conniving, cunning, and heartless lot that knew how to navigate these waters without incurring any losses.

“This is too much, Father,” one of his right-hand-men, Cyubel, complained through gritted teeth. “They are all but suffocating us. All we want is to just be left alone.”

“That’s not how they see it,” Qyne said, sighing. Despite being only in his mid-thirties, ever since becoming the leader of the Lunar Children, he felt as though he’d aged decades with how many fires he had had to put out. “They think we’re vying for the Throne as well amidst the chaotic storm they themselves have created. They are so indulged in greed that they cannot fathom people not wanting the same things they do. For them, the Throne is the penultimate form of expression and power and, as such, they believe that every other soul in the world covets it.”

“Are we really going to take it, Father?!” Cyubel asked with clearly unmasked anger. For a while know Qyne had known that the young man had quite a short fuse, and a temper which was difficult to control. “Just one from you, and our Brothers and Sisters--”

“Cyubel,” Qyne interrupted. “Don’t. I shan’t ever make a decision that will jeopardize the lives of our people. We barely spent any of the donations we received anyway, so it should be enough to sustain us through this. I understand your anger,” he added. “But anger... anger isn’t the answer. It weakens our resolves and it opens up a path for our naysayers to manipulate us. That doesn’t mean, however, we will take all this lying down; perchance, locate one of the two ‘missing’ Princess and offer them a sanctuary. If they believe we are vying for the throne, we may as well stoke those worries and hope for a blunder on their part.”

“Yes, Father!”

**

Izirdul stared out through the solitary window of his chamber, an exhausted look in his eyes. It was all too much, too heavy, too volatile. For months now all he wanted to do was crawl under his bed and fade off into hibernation -- like a winter bear. But... he couldn’t. He was, after all, the Kingdom’s Crown Prince, the next in line for throne. He, however, didn’t want that throne; not only was the chair itself remarkably ugly, so were all the implications that came with becoming the King.

How long has it been since he’d last seen his Father happy? No, rather -- was that man ever happy? All day, every day, all Izirdul saw were frowns, scrounged eyebrows, sighs, and looks of utter exhaustion and helplessness. Happiness... didn’t seem to exist in that world. And the closer Izirdul came to it, the more he realized it. Even now, during his ‘break’, he knew there was a slew of anxious servants just outside his chambers waiting to report to him about this or that or everything. What his Brothers and Sisters are up to, what that whacky new religion is doing, what’s up with that and this and--he just... didn’t care.

All he wanted to do was tend to his garden, drink that strange, blue wine, and read stories of heroes and heroines. But... he had no choice. After all, his was the life of a Crown Prince. Maybe I can be like Deyu and fake my death? He mused as he watched the hourglass on the stand by his bed ticking down, signaling the close end of his ‘break’. Become a commoner and such. No, maybe steal some jewelry from Mother and sole gold to not have to work? No, maybe working is necessary. Sweating in the fields, hoeing, digging, plowing... or maybe I should become a miner. I hear men there are all strong and resilient. Aah... why was I born a Crown Prince...

His ‘break’ came to an end under that lamentation. Seeing the doors open, and seeing the horde of anxiety-infused servants streaming in, he knew... he was in for some miserable time. Did he even have enough strength to pretend to remember whatever worries they had? It was doubtful. After all, he’d just drank a whole glass of blue wine. Right now, his world was colors and more colors, shapes themselves blending together. Aah, the blue wine’s the best...