Barbarian Quest

Chapter 103: Coronation

A carpet, as blue as the sea, stretched long down the hall. It was embroidered densely with golden thread that depicted the fish of the Porcana sea. The golden fish were so vibrant, looking almost alive. In Porcana, fishes symbolized a wish for abundance and bountiful harvests.

Step.

Varca walked over the carpet, dragging his cloak of a length that was twice his height. His steps were leisurely. He had to walk slowly until the sun reached its zenith at noon.

'Nobles.'

Pahell narrowed his eyes slightly and moved his blue irises from side to side. He observed the crowd gathered to witness his coronation.

"There's a rumor that the princess led a rebellion."

"That’s probably a rumor spread by the king to justify sending her to the empire. Who knew he was such a heartless prince? To use his sister as a condition to borrow the empire's army. And not even as a wife, but as a mere concubine?"

"He's offering the kingdom's greatest beauty to the emperor. All for his throne."

The nobles murmured among themselves, unaware of the full story. Even if it were true that the princess plotted a rebellion, it would have been shameful to admit a kingdom was toyed by a woman. Politics and war were men's domains.

"Pity, such a pity. I wanted to embrace her at least once."

"Tsk, tsk, you speak such disrespectful words."

"A woman, even a princess, ultimately just needs to bear children well, right? What makes them happier than being loved by a man?"

"Enough with the nonsense. You should take better care of your own wife instead."

"With that belly she's got recently, my desire fades away so easily."

"Speaking of which, isn't your daughter of age now? Why not bring her by the palace? Who knows, you might become the king's future father-in-law."

"Not for now. She got with one of my people. I heard some noise one night, so I went into her room, and guess what I found? My daughter in bed with a familiar-looking man, smacking their bodies together."

"Oh really? So what did you do?"

"In a fit of rage, I beheaded that scoundrel. Tsk. It’s been months since my daughter locked herself in her room for months."

"At least she didn’t get pregnant. Getting rid of illegitimate children is always a headache."

The voices of the nobles intertwined. All the influential nobles of the kingdom were present at the coronation.

'Duke Lungell.'

Pahell turned to look at Duke Lungell, who faintly smiled and nodded in greeting.

'Duke Lungell will become my political rival.'

Duke Lungell hadn't exhausted his forces one bit in the civil war. Not only that, he managed to gather supporters of his own and grew into an independent power. From now on, he would have significant influence in major decisions of the kingdom.

'Will Duke Lungell support the exploration of the eastern continent?'

The exploration of the eastern continent was almost a fictitious plan, especially for middle-aged nobles who most likely wouldn't live to see its results. Young, vigorous nobles might side with the king's adventure, but convincing conservative older ones was certainly going to be difficult.

"Oh, Lou."

Varca murmured, looking at the ceiling. He was fully committed to fulfilling the mission given by Lou for the rest of his life. That was all that was left for him.

'Sister.'

His heart felt like it had been split in half. Thinking of his sister made his breath unsteady and his heartbeat irregular.

'If only she had begged for forgiveness even just once...'

Pahell loved Damia. He adored her in every aspect.

Had Damia put aside all her pride and begged for mercy, Pahell might have given in. Maybe, he was already prepared to forgive her even until the very end...

'In the end, I am just a younger brother who loves his older sister.'

Damia was a terrifying woman. She only showed her hostility at the very end. She had always been a kind and good sister. When he closed his eyes, he didn’t remember anything bad that would cause him rage or hatred. Instead, he only remembered the good times. He remembered her putting flower crowns on his head in the garden. Her voice, which was still vivid in his ears, was sweeter than the fragrance of flowers.

'I handed such a precious sister to that beastly emperor.'

Pahell knew the man that Emperor Yanchinus was. He was a creature of desire. He did anything to satisfy his lust, yet he was not a slave to it. He waited patiently, like a predator stalking its prey.

He thought of the women in the Palace of Ten Pleasures. They were beautiful women gathered from all over for the emperor. Would his sister become one of them? If luck is on her side, she could even rise to the position of a wife. She was an intelligent person, after all.

‘I am a fool. Look at me still worrying about my sister.'

Varca closed his eyes and reopened them, feeling a sting at their corners. He held back the tears that were on the brink of pouring down his face.

Damia had already left. She was on her way to the empire, escorted by Imperial soldiers. Along with her, a letter detailing every one of her crimes was sent to the emperor. It basically exposed the shame of the kingdom, but the emperor needed to be alerted about what kind of woman Damia was.

'I can trust the emperor at least while the eastern continent exploration is in progress.'

Varca knew the emperor's deepest desires. He wanted to leave his name in history. Having satisfied all his desires in this world, he longed for an honor that would keep his name immortal.

"Come forth, Varca Aneu Porcana."

The bishop spoke from afar. His beard was bushy, and his eyes were kind. In his hands was a crown that was familiar to Pahell.

'The crown father always wore.'

He knew it would eventually come to him. But now that the day had arrived, it felt unreal.

'Was becoming king my own will?'

All throughout his life, Pahell had thought it was natural for him to become king. He was the sole legitimate heir, and his father and subjects always said he would be the next king.

The kingship was his predetermined path. From birth, people said he would be king.

'I will be king.'

Even though it was a fate that was already decided for him, Pahell still wanted to be king. A predetermined fate wasn’t always different from one’s own will.

'Sister just didn't want a predetermined fate different from her will.'

Damia wanted to be equal to Pahell. Being one being with each other from birth, she couldn't accept him moving ahead. Love was fickle and imperfect, easily changing to other emotions, like jealousy...

If anyone was born with more blessings than any other woman in the world, it was Damia. She had a charm that ensnared any man. Her radiant beauty was praised by all. But Damia wasn't content with such a life. The feeling of inferiority and jealousy for not being able to choose her own life twisted her. Even with a hundred concessions, the things she did were never going to be forgivable.

'A life of being content with what you are given.'

Most humans lived their lives like that. Whether they were slaves or nobles, they were content with the fate given by Lou. But a few wanted something beyond what they were given. Whether that was status or gender, they had to overcome their circumstances in order to achieve what they desired.

If a non-heir wants to be king, they must wage war; if a slave wants freedom, they must kill their master; what about a woman subjugated by men wanting to stand above them?

"...Failure is also a consequence of your decisions, sister."

He had no intention of handing over what he had to someone out of pity. Life was an unfair struggle, and only the victors got what they wanted. Life doesn't start fair. Some achieve their goals with ease while others struggle or fail.

'In this unfair world...'

Pahell walked. The sun had risen to the top of the temple's head. The sunlight brightly illuminated the inside of the temple.

"I just do what I believe is right."

The bishop, with a smile of benevolence honed over a lifetime, gazed at Pahell.

"Kneel before the sun god Lou. Varca Aneu Porcana."

As Pahell knelt and bowed his head, the crown weighed heavily on his hair.

"...Rise, Varca Baneu Porcana. The Ruler of Porcana."

The nobles clapped. They celebrated the new Baneu Porcana.

Nod.

Pahell turned around and faced the crowd. Among them, he spotted Urich.

"You have become the king you so desired."

Urich's voice couldn’t be heard, but his lip movements were more than enough to make out what he was saying.

"Ruler of Porcana!"

"Long live Varca Baneu Porcana!"

"Praise the king!"

"Oh, Lou, prosperity for the kingdom! Blessing for the young king!"

The nobles shouted. The crowd swayed, blurring Urich's figure. Urich moved in the opposite direction of the crowd, being the first to exit the Solar Temple.

'Urich.'

Pahell raised his eyes again, but Urich had already disappeared.

The celebratory procession extended to the royal palace. The people gathered to see the face of the new king.

"......Long live!"

"...Cana!"

"Varca...!"

The voices were buried in each other.

Pahell looked at his people from his horse. His popularity was high. A young man who became king after defeating his wicked uncle. It was a story that captivated the people. More than anything, his gentle appearance played a significant role in increasing his appeal to everyone, regardless of their age and sex. Good looks were the asset of the Porcana royal family.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Pahell entered the royal palace. He walked towards the throne he had never sat in before.

The lieges who arrived earlier were already in their places. They bowed their heads, waiting for the king to take a seat on his throne.

Creak.

Pahell stood in his place. He touched the throne, the place where his father always sat.

‘So much blood was shed just for me to sit here.'

When he closed his eyes, the faces of the dead appeared. There were far more deaths he could not remember. How many more unheard cries of grief were there?

"Lift your head."

Pahell commanded as he sat on the throne. He looked at his subjects, resting his hands on the armrests. There was no familiar face. They were all strangers.

'It's not over yet.'

Pahell smiled, twisting the corners of his mouth.

'These men are snakes. They're only thinking about how to boil the young king alive and eat him up.'

The people he could trust were all either dead or gone.

Life is always a series of struggles, and the struggle of Varca Baneu Porcana was just beginning.

This time, he stepped into a new battlefield all by himself, without holding anyone's hand.

* * *

"Kylios, did you eat up? There won't be such fine feed in the future," Urich said, patting Kylios's neck. Kylios neighed as if he was answering his owner.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Urich left the festive royal city. His mercenary squad was staying in the Uscall territory. They were probably eagerly waiting for their leader Urich to return.

"Take care of yourself, Pahell."

Urich looked back and muttered to himself. He rode on Kylios, enjoying the scenery. With all the hectic events coming to an end, he felt a sense of emptiness.

"This is what peace of mind feels like!" Urich exclaimed dramatically, then rubbed his forehead.

"Damn it."

Pahell lingered in a corner of his mind. There was no one left by Pahell's side now.

'If he at least has me by his side...'

Urich shook his head at the thought.

'That's not my life. It's Pahell's life. My job is done.'

Shortly after, Urich found himself turned onto a quiet woodland path. Urich opened a map, checking which way to go.

"Dammit, it's so hard to find the way by myself."

Urich said as he drew his steel axe. He dismounted Kylios.

"So come out and help me find the way, you bastards."

Armed men emerged from the bushes. For bandits, they were quite well-armed. They wore neatly arranged armor, some even in chainmail.

'Ten of them. That’s a lot.'

Urich took a deep breath, looking at the enemies.

"You've crossed the line as a barbarian, Urich."

The man who looked like their leader said to Urich. There were many nobles who kept Urich in check. Also among them were those who knew how to take initiative.

"Yeah, yeah. I knew you'd say that. Come at me then."

Urich twirled his axe.

‘He’s not even slightly intimidated facing ten by himself?'

The man's eyes widened. Urich showed no signs of fleeing. Even for an outstanding warrior, facing ten men was difficult, especially since these were not ordinary bandits but regular soldiers.

The man was momentarily distracted. That was his mistake.

Crunch.

The last thing the man saw was an axe blade flying at him.

Urich loved fighting. He even felt a strange thrill each time he killed someone. When he gambled with his one and only life in battle, he felt truly alive. The life of a warrior was his everything.

He experienced an exhilarating pleasure, trembling throughout his body, when he survived fights so intense that the inside of his head became blank. This feeling was even better than being with a woman.

He slashed, killed, slashed, and killed.

Urich swung his axe wildly. He rolled on the ground and then climbed up trees as if he was fleeing. He rushed into the forest, jumped into a swamp to hide, and then ambushed the pursuing enemies. He fought relentlessly, using the terrain to his advantage, almost to the point of cowardice. When he came back to his senses, his face was covered in blood.

"Huff, huff."

Urich grasped and pulled out an arrow embedded in his shoulder. He looked at the corpses with his yellow eyes.

The bodies belonged to the ten men, not Urich. Their gruesomely torn bodies were scattered in all directions along the escape route. Their intestines hung on the tree branches, and their heads rolled in the dirt, mingling with the soil.

"Dammit, this hurts like hell. I didn’t think I'd be showing off my guts."

Urich looked at his intestines, which trickled out from a slit in his belly. It seemed as if several pink snakes were living inside his stomach.

"Hmph!"

Urich pushed his protruding intestines back in with his hand and tensed his abdominal muscles to keep them in place. In that state, he called for Kylios and mounted him.

Not long after, a fork in the road appeared. Urich took out the map to look at it again.

'Uscall territory is to the left.'

Urich looked up and alternated his gaze between left and right. It didn’t take long for him to make up his mind. Urich tore up the map.

The horse's head turned right. The pieces of the torn map fluttered away in the wind.

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