Chapter 4: Chapter 3: [Locate Specialist}

For the second time, my head prepared to explode.

After using [Locate Specialist], a landscape overtook my vision, complete with excruciating detail. Information flooded my mind—we were land-locked, except for one bay in the south-east, which was ringed so completely by the Caltan Mountains there was no route out by sea.

From those mountains flowed the River Zambhir, which twisted and wound all the way past the walls of Larm to the northern coast of Antira. Another range separated us from them in the east.

I wanted to scream. Instead, I groaned, gripping my temples hard enough to hurt. Rather than distracting me from the main pain, it just added to it, like a sledgehammer pounding out a death metal beat on my skull.

The map began zooming in on Larheim. Four duchies ringed my duchy, which contained the capital. Larm grew larger.

Eventually, I felt like I’d taken enough psychedelics to kill a small elephant. I was looking at myself.

And behind me, having slid herself into a seat without me noticing, sat a woman in a black cloak with the hood drawn. My bird’s-eye view showed the entire room, which contained ten other people.

There was no confusion, though.

The mystery woman behind me glowed with pale light, and more details invaded my head.

Cannara/Human/Spy/Lv. 60

 

I tried to expand the info, but nothing happened. It couldn’t be easy, could it? Moreover, what the hell did I need a Spy for? There were probably a hundred different Machiavellian purposes, but none seemed relevant. I wasn’t planning any purges or cruelties. The very idea made my stomach turn.

I’d refresh it, then. Activating the Skill again, my map reverted to the full landmass, then zoomed in.

Back on Cannara.

Oh, come on! I needed bureaucrats and ministers and accountants, not another combat class. For pushing me so hard into kingship, the System seemed determined to give me a regular old adventuring party. What was the point?

…

That wasn’t a rhetorical question!

…

This thing was worse than the Bullsh*t System, I swear.

My chair scraped as I stood and sauntered around her table, plopping myself in an unoccupied seat. She clicked her tongue, and I could have sworn the temperature dropped.

Moisture fled my mouth. What was I supposed to say? I’d never been big on the whole ‘small talk’ thing—most of the time, I just listened and hoped people went away. No-one knew who I was, and given the ghost town of a palace, I imagined my reputation as an employer wasn’t exactly stellar.

Start with the basics, I guess.

“Hello, Cannara,” I said. “I’m—”

I squeaked, my heart fluttering as cold metal pressed into my throat. She’d drawn the dagger faster than I could see.

As the existence of a Morale yield had taught me, the people here were real, full of emotion and insecurity. That meant all the danger was real, too. I wasn’t about to fall into the trap of thinking this was a game, just because there was a System and a status screen. Those stories never ended well.

Suffice it to say, I said nothing, weathering a glare as sharp as the blade at my neck.

“Did Aleister send you?” she said.

“I…” I licked my lips, curiosity flickering in my gut.

Unfortunately, she’d probably kill me before answering any questions.

“Well?” she demanded, narrow eyes glaring from beneath her hood.

“I don’t want any trouble,” I said.

“Too bad,” she said, pressing the knife in. Blood trickled down my clavicle, warm and wet. “You found it.”

Wonderful. At this rate, the only thing I’d be King of was bad endings. Salvaging this would require all my wit, and if that didn’t work, a lot of begging.

“Maybe we can help each other,” I said, my breaths ragged.

“I doubt it,” she replied. “And who says I want your help? The only people who’d come from nowhere with such an offer are the ones who’d just as soon have you in chains.”

“Well,” I said, “only if you’re into that.”

Hissing, she pushed the blade further, and I grit my teeth.

“Enough jokes,” she said. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

I inhaled deeply. “My name’s Oliver. I’m the new King, I guess, and I want you to work for me.” Well, that had been easier than expected.

She started, her weapon arm relaxing. “Prove it.”

My lips parted. “Um…”

You are reading story The Royal System: Ruler of the Poorest Kingdom at novel35.com

“So you can’t?”

I nodded, contemplating the table’s scarred wood.

“Then you’re scamming me.”

“No!” Why hadn’t I thought to bring a royal emblem, or something? “Come back to the palace with me and I’ll show you.”

She scoffed. “Oh, so you can lead me into the arms of your waiting allies? I don’t think so.”

Jesus, how cynical could one person get? She was already eyeing the door. How could I convince her? I needed to recruit her, for the sake of my quest rewards if nothing else.

Time to go all-in.

“Look,” I said, “maybe you’re right. But you’re obviously strong and wily enough to make an escape, right?”

She said nothing, brushing her hood and averting her gaze. Was this working?

I continued, “If I’m telling the truth, though—whatever you’re running from, the Crown can protect you.”

“I don’t need protection,” she said, huffing.

“Maybe not.” Brushing a blonde lock from my eyes, I went for the kicker and smiled. “But you won’t have to pull a knife on everyone you meet.”

Hesitating, she pulled her hood down, revealing a round face and black hair scraped back in a bun.

“Fine,” she said, scowling. “Lead the way.”

***

Cannara still wasn’t in my list of Specialists, so I hadn’t closed the deal yet. Still, she walked with me as we approached the palace, albeit keeping a distance behind, her hand never leaving the dagger in her cloak.

We crossed through a plaza with a fountain in the middle—I had no idea if it was magic or mechanical, but it was pretty. Certainly more so than the solid gold monstrosity outside the palace gates.

Twenty feet tall, a statue of a fat, bald man with a lavish robe and sceptre rose to the sky. I grimaced. In a kingdom on its knees, how could someone justify that kind of ostentation?

No wonder his head had rolled.

A pair of guards in crimson uniforms—the only ones left, as I understood it—nodded at me, opening the gates. These were iron, big enough that both soldiers, though burly, struggled together with a single one. Walls as tall as the statue rounded the grounds.

We stepped through, Cannara drawing queer looks from the guards as she tracked after me. A path wound through extensive gardens, a canvas of green covered in wilting flower beds and overgrown grass.

After a few minutes, we reached the palace proper. It was as wide as a small airport, three stories of smooth rock and heavy glass, with balconies, and double doors atop a set of punishing stairs.

I struggled with these for a moment, before Cannara came and effortlessly pushed them open. I really needed to see her Strength stat. We entered a lavish foyer, full of banners and jewels and paintings. A thin layer of dust covered everything. I eyed the jewels, wondering how much we could get for them.

Cannara noticed them too, her eyes gleaming. Was she impressed, or contemplating crime? Her bearing screamed the latter.

I led her down the main corridor and turned left, trekking to the end before reaching the throne room. I figured I’d rename it the ‘Council Chambers’ or something, and maybe have a table put in.

Hana stood where I’d first landed, tapping her foot. When she saw me, she rushed over.

“Sire!” she said, her expression impassive. “We were worried.”

“Yeah,” I said, “sorry. Needed some time to process it all, you know?”

“No matter,” she replied. “You’ve accepted your new position, then?”

Well, that was one way of putting it.

I didn’t see a need to call myself ‘acting King’ like a certain protagonist, since that would almost definitely jinx me. Even so, I intended my reign to be short. I’d do this properly, and leave behind a legacy and reputation worthy of the marauding hero I intended to become.

“Yeah,” I said, throwing my shoulders back. A moment like this called for an inspiring speech, a heartfelt address that conveyed my resolve and sincerity.

I settled for something I’d seen on Tumblr.

“You know, evil is like a weed. It grows in the cracks of roads, in empty bellies and decrepit housing. Its roots stretch down into ignorance, and it’s festering in this kingdom right now, eating away at its very fabric.

“I’ll wipe it out for you.”

Damn, I sounded cool. I was missing a bad-ass prophecy, but that didn’t matter much.

The corner of her lips twitched. I assumed that was the closest she’d ever get to a smile, so I smiled back.

She turned to scrutinise Cannara, who pouted, scanning the room.

“Sire,” said Hana, “you do realise that the woman with you is a wanted criminal, yes?”

No, actually. The System had conveniently forgotten to mention that part.