Chapter 144 - Estian’s True Form

 

Act 7: The Forgotten

Black smoke engulfed Etia’s capital. Throughout the capital, scattered sounds of people screaming and things breaking could be heard. None of this captured Estian’s attention, as he stared emotionlessly at the castle in front of him. The conquest of Etia was taking longer compared to his past campaigns.

From this day forward, the wealthy nation bordering the ocean known as Etia would disappear from the maps of the continent. Estian had decimated nearly all the villages in the region, so it would be a simple matter for cartographers to mark the former region as one blank space.

“It seems that things have been mostly cleared up,” Kane said, appearing behind Estian.

“Alright,” Estian replied curtly.

The knight commander could see that the emperor was in a terrible mood. It was natural considering they were in a time of war, but the emperor’s mood seemed particularly terrible this time around.

“Is there anything troubling you?” Kane asked cautiously, wondering if there was any command that he or the knights had failed to carry out properly.

“No.”

Despite Estian’s denial, his short reply was indicative of his worsening mood. It would be pointless to push any further. Their clean up of the inner capital city was almost complete, and Kane’s priority was to attend to the many important tasks entrusted to him.

“Then, will you permit the knights to retreat now?” Kane asked.

Anyone else would’ve wondered at Kane’s question. The dukedom was being driven to destruction, but the task of capturing the Grand Duke Farus and the castle remained. Why would the knight order retreat now of all times? However, this was in fact the typical proceedings for Kane and the knights. Apart from a few instances, the final battle in the wars of conquest were almost always Estian’s to fight alone.

In the beginning, many knights wondered how the emperor could face hundreds and thousands of foes alone. Now, none of them held such concerns. A daring few who defied their orders out of curiosity ended up losing their lives. Their deaths were recorded as casualties of war, but everyone knew that they’d perished at Estian’s hand. It was better to live in ignorance—curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“Go. Far away. Far enough that your sight no longer reaches this place,” Estian commanded.

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“I understand,” Kane answered, bowing deeply. He gestured to the knight behind him, and a sound resembling the cry of hawk soon rang out through the capital. It was the signal to retreat. Knights frantically rode their steeds out of the city, as if they were chased by powerful phantom beasts.

Estian watched the backs of the retreating imperial knights. A gust of wind blew through his hair, carrying a mixed scent of thick smoke and blood. He clicked his tongue irritably and smoothed his hair back.

“Something is bothering me, huh…” he muttered. His knight commander was sharp, truly living up to his position as the emperor’s adjutant. Estian had been in a state of aggravation from the moment he stepped foot into Etia’s borders… no, from the moment he left the imperial palace.

His head unconsciously turned towards the direction of the empire, where his empress remained. Cecile had pouted and asked why she couldn’t accompany him. Had the question come from anyone else, he wouldn’t have been lenient towards the asker. However, the empress was different. All he could offer in consolation was a promise of a swift return.

‘I’m sure she’s doing well, but I should hurry back.’ Estian was startled by his own thoughts. Had there ever been a time when he thought about returning early from war? No. War had always been his reason for living. He derived joy from the destruction and slaughtering of the targets of his wrath. He lived to fight. Those were the moments that made him feel alive. But why did everything feel annoying and dull this time around?

Estian wondered if Cecile had discovered the gift that he’d left her. The scepter was one of the emperor’s regalia, but he’d never spared it a thought… until now.

“Bring me the regalia,” Estian commanded.

“Pardon, sire?” the head chamberlain asked.

“I said, bring out all the regalia.”

The head chamberlain rushed out at Estian’s order, and returned shortly with the four regalia of the empire: the crown, the sword, the scepter, and the orb.

‘Which one should I give before I leave?’ Estian wondered. He spent a long time touching each object, picking each one up to examine before placing them back down.

The first of the regalia that he picked up was the crown. There was an unsightly stain on the inner fabric lining, which was, without a doubt, a dried blood stain. Estian pondered when he’d last seen the crown. ‘Ah, I remember. This rolled alongside that rotter’s head.‘ The ‘rotter’ in question was his deceased father, whose head had rolled on the ground with the crown still attached to it after Estian lopped it off.

When his officials had presented the crown to him, Estian had instructed them, “No need to clean it when this filth suits it perfectly. Isn’t it great that it clearly shows what happened too?” And so, the crown was stowed away with the blood uncleaned.

Estian frowned and quickly placed it back in its case. ‘I can’t give her something like this.’ Cecile would run away screaming if she caught sight of the crown, and would never come near the case again. More importantly, there was no way he would give her such a dirty thing.

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