Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World As A Paladin 6 Chapter 27: King Frederick

Like this, seven days later, they finally arrived at the crossroads. It was a four-way path, connecting Sul'Tharra, Bloodthorn Forest, and both the East and West. Frequented by merchants hailing from every corner of the world, it was defended from bandits by the Empire's soldiers. Sentinels patrolled the roads with their horses, and they respectfully greeted Siegfried and his men.

After exchanging a few words, Siegfried was let through, and it was finally time for Leon to separate. Due to the strange nature of Leon's abrupt deployment, Siegfried was forced to make adequate arrangements. This was one of the main reasons that they stopped at the crossroads instead of venturing down the shortcut Ralkor had.

Sitting atop his mighty stallion, Siegfried trotted toward Leon in the back. His beard s.h.i.+fted with every gallop, and his fierce eyes didn't let up at all. "Boy, this is where we part ways. This road leads all the way to Blood Mountain, where your fellow correctional officers will receive you." Siegfried informed, pulling the reigns of his horse.

Leon, who was standing next to his old battalion, was singled out. He knew that this day would have eventually come, but it was still a strange feeling to leave his comrades. Turning left and right, Leon hugged Gerald, Silvan, and Henry. After shaking their hands, Leon nodded in Siegfried's direction and walked forward.

The rest of the army stood to the side, allowing room for both Leon and Ralkor to move through the ranks. Siegfried led him toward the Western road, where a dainty carriage awaited. With a simple aesthetic, it was pleasing to the eye and could be considered extravagant to a certain extent. Of course, no influential men would drive in it, but it was very fancy to someone of Leon's caliber.

To the side, three warriors donned in steel plate sat on their horses with staunch expression. Because of the ever reoccurring bandit threat, Siegfried decided that it was best to "escort" Leon to his destination.

"This will be your means of transportation," Siegfried remarked, gesturing toward the rations inside. "You'll be able to sit inside, and there is enough food in there to last you for around three weeks. As for the distance, if you don't dally for very long, you'll reach Blood Mountain in seventeen days."

Turning toward Siegfried, Leon bowed his head. "Thank you for everything!" He stated, expression somber.

"Thank your old commander, not me," Siegfried replied, patting Leon on the shoulder. "I am but a servant of the Empire, but you... you can become something much more. Do not die, boy!"

After speaking thus far, Siegfried rallied the rest of his troops, and they stormed off like a swarm of locusts. It was essential for them to arrive at their location ahead of time, lest the many ministers of the Empire will harshly rebuke them. Of course, there was no set time for Leon, but he'd still be forced to rush. After all, with only three weeks' worth of supplies, it was clear that the Empire was afraid of his desertion.

Thinking to here, Leon saluted the plume of dust in the distance, swiftly turning around after it had settled. Exhaling a deep breath, he decided to focus on his future and temporarily forget about the past. There was no longer a point to dwell on Ralkor's death, nor the morbid satyrs.

Glancing around, Leon stood just a few centimeters away from the carriage. The three knights surrounded it, and they still hadn't said a peep. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you guys," Leon greeted, smiling wryly." Quite the friendly bunch, aren't we?" He continued in a sarcastic tone whilst jumping in the back.

Instead of replying, one of the knights nodded his head and urged the horses to move forward. With them, the carriage was pulled, and the wheels bounced on the dirt road. Soon, Leon would begin his next adventure at Blood Mountain.

***

Inside the Empire's Capital, Moradun, the palace which toppled over the clouds housed a mult.i.tude of distinguished guests. Flocking toward the main halls, they showered praises upon King Frederick for his victory at Bloodthorn Forest. Although a minor step in his grand scheme, plenty of n.o.bles would not let a chance to curry favor slip pa.s.sed them.

Currently, Frederick and a few others were sitting around a large table. Their chairs were lined with pearls and accented by golden engraving, and their cutlery was made out of the finest of silver. A golden chandelier dangled from up above, lighting up the room in its regal splendor. In front of them, a boar's head, some fruits, salad, and loaves of bread were set onto the table.

Lifting his chalice full of the most exceptional wine, Frederick brought it to his thin lips and took a sip. His skin was pale, and his hair brown. He sported a pair of bright, blue eyes coupled with an exceedingly thin build. His fingers were manicured, and his hands were slender and graceful. Not a single trace of hard work was present on his body. A strange occurrence for a hawk, to be certain.

Sitting across from him, a plump man with a beard and a tied-up ponytail, ate the food with relish. "My King, how do you take the news of Blood Mountain continuing its legacy?" He asked in a bout of loud laughter. "Surely, with your influence, you can change such a development at the flick of your wrist?"

"Oh, Wilfred," Frederick hummed, a smile on his lips. "It is best not to concern yourself with a gentleman's matters. For you, it's in your best interest to focus on things regarding sewage, economics, and, of course, the procurement of more food."

After saying such in an eloquent matter, Frederick wiped the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. Standing up, he then waltzed toward the left, hands behind his back. With the corners of his lips curled, he stood at the pier, gazing down at the many buildings and people of the Empire. He loved the way they looked beneath him.

"My father, Harmon, feared the ramification of Blood Mountain, but I do not," Frederick said, calmly gazing at the star-filled sky. "There are no prisoners who can even hope to threaten my solid foundation within the Empire. Besides, the new captain is but a boy. If he causes problems, we can kill him whenever we so please."

Frowning, Wilfred stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth. "The Duke was but a boy when he awakened the dragon rider bloodline. Then, he saw memories not belonging to someone of this generation. How do you know that this will not be the case for this new captain?"

Scoffing, Frederick turning around, squinting his eyes. "The Duke of Silundar is the last known dragon rider," pausing, he glanced around the empty room. "Yet, where is his dragon, if I may ask?"

Continuing his spiel, Frederick sauntered toward Wilfred and lifted the fat man's chin with his index finger. "Do you understand? No matter the bloodline, faction, or force pinned against me, I will always hold more power. The times have changed, and influence is no longer measured by the magic one can cast, or the blade work one can utilize. Strength can only be quantified by the country one rules, the men that follow him, and the force he can muster."

Smiling, Frederick lightly tapped Wilfred on the cheek. "A mere captain is not even worthy to enter my eyes, let alone my ears," the King winked, sitting back down on his chair, crossing his legs.

"Now, disregarding your pointless flattery. How goes the negotiations with the Federation and Merchant's Guild?" Frederick changed topics, cutting into a succulent piece of steak.

Wiping off the beads of sweat on his face, Wilfred rubbed his hands together. "About that... the Church has suddenly changed their stance on the buying and selling of elixirs," he said, stammering. "For some reason, the ten commandments are now enforcing regulations on anything that may contain traces of corruption or evil."

"And, what does that have to do with anything?" Frederick asked, placing both his fork and knife down.

"Well... my liege, as powerful as the Empire is, our military isn't quite up to par. A few of our caravans have already been intercepted!" Wilfred answered honestly, clearing his throat with some wine.
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"Is that so?" Frederick asked, squinting.

Their meeting concluded soon after, and Wilfred was escorted out by some knights. Once the thick, wooden doors closed, Frederick once again stood up from his chair. His previous calm and elegant demeanor evaporated, replaced by a cold ruthlessness.

Then, in accordance with that, a man suddenly appeared behind Frederick. Kneeling, the guest was shrouded in a black cloak and a mask. "My lord, you called?" He inquired, voice deep.

"Kill that fat pig while he indulges in those elven wh.o.r.es that we gifted him with," Frederick ordered. "Once that's finished, I want you to figure out why the church is enforcing their idealistic laws!"

"Yes, sir!" Replying as so, the cloaked a.s.sa.s.sin vanished into thin air.

Once alone, Frederick furrowed his brows and once again stood on the pier, glancing down at his city. There was no telling what was going on in his head, but he knew that a storm was brewing.

Bloodthorn Forest was the start, and soon, many of such events were going to take place. It had been far too long since the current power structure had s.h.i.+fted. Frederick wasn't going to hold back. Clutching his fists, a flash of determination glimmered within his eyes. "I won't be worthless like my father!" He swore to himself.

***

Sitting in the back of a rocking carriage, Leon was currently slouching, dealing a few cards. Sitting next to him, three staunch-faced guards were also dealing their hands. No words were spoken, and even Leon couldn't help but feel that the atmosphere was awkward. Sighing, he threw down his hand. "Goodness, do you three talk at all?" He implored.

After saying this, one of the men to the right removed his helmet, revealing a scar-filled face. Strangely enough, his face was devoid of many expressions. Shaking his head, he retrieved a piece of parchment and dabbled a nearby pen into some ink. After writing down some words, the guard showed the paper to Leon.

In theory, this way of communication would work, but Leon was incapable of reading. Glancing between it, and the guard, Leon shrugged his soldiers. "So, I can't read or write, and you can't talk? How ironic." Leon commented, baffled by such a development.

Why in the h.e.l.l would Siegfried have deployed these three to protect him? Such thoughts plagued his mind as he stood up, brus.h.i.+ng off his b.u.t.tocks. It was night time, so the carriage had already stopped moving. Jumping down onto the hard ground, Leon glanced at the large moon in the sky. It was about twice as significant as the moon that orbited Earth, but just as beautiful in the starry sky. Only further emphasized by the dark of night, not a single person couldn't help but stop and stare.

Even the wolves were howling, accompanying the hooting of owls. It was a peaceful sound.

"Oh, it's a full moon tonight, huh?" He mumbled to himself, smiling.