–Nicholas–
I wanted to prevent any more of them from dying, so I rushed. Sadly, I was a bit too late.
A few more died than expected, but this guy was gravely injured. Of course, he still survived, so I suppose that is an upside.
I helped him walk. He was basically passed out, but somehow he could still move. A true preserver.
Still, I was surprised. I caught the last little bit of that fight. It looked like he skipped through time.
I only recognized it because of the voice, and I could still see him move. It just looked wrong, like stop motion but with no angle, no frames in between.
Malachi had come with me and helped the rest of his people get to the city safely.
I hoped to present it as something akin to a safe haven, so that they would stay.
Though judging from their condition and the surrounding land, they likely had no other choice.
We came up to the walls surrounding the large city. Black stone towers spiraled upward, and a massive gate of weeping metal opened slowly as I approached.
After passing through, the gate shut behind me with a thunderous clang.
The city was well built, with plenty of infrastructure to admire.
The walls surrounding it looked like something out of a movie or fantasy show, only larger, more ornate, and far more detailed.
Banners hung across the inner halls, and watchtowers loomed overhead, their windows shaped for archers and siege defense.
Once I had put some distance between myself and the gate, Mirabel appeared from nowhere.
"The rest have been situated to the front of the manor, as you requested."
I nodded. "This guy, take him and heal him."
She walked up and gently took the man from my arms.
"You wanted to speak to them all. Why?"
"I'm going to explain their situation and ask them, very nicely, to join this kingdom as its first citizens in over an eon."
Her expression shifted, subtle but clearly troubled. It prompted me to ask.
"Do you not agree with this?"
"It's not that," she said, thinking carefully. "But it may be better to act like your old self."
"Ah. Was I vastly different, or just meaner? I'm not sure how he acted."
She paused again, then replied,
"Arrogant. Kind, but with no emotion. That summed up your personality."
I did not think I liked that.
But I would try to act the part.
I always did enjoy plays.
As we made our way back, I caught sight of the large crowd gathering near the manor gates.
I veered off to take a side path, one that curved quietly through an arched corridor of ivy-covered stone. I preferred not to be seen too soon.
The ground sloped downward in front of the main gate, forming a natural stage where I would stand above them.
From this height, they all looked fragile, like wandering ghosts barely held together by fear and uncertainty.
Malachi and Kivana waited near the gate, both standing with a solemn vigilance.
They glanced toward me but said nothing.
I stepped forward, just in front of the great iron entrance. My boots struck the dark stone with a steady rhythm that echoed in the silence.
Below me, the survivors stood on the lower tier of land, hundreds of eyes rising to meet mine.
Their clothes were torn, their faces hollow. Yet in their gazes, something flickered, a quiet hope or perhaps desperation dressed as faith.
With a soft smile, I raised my voice.
"You have all endured a terrible tragedy. So much so, in fact, that you were doomed to die."
I raised both hands slowly, as if lifting the weight of their grief into the air.
"However... I cannot allow that."
The wind picked up gently, rustling the tattered flags above and the broken leaves at their feet.
"While I slumbered, this forest has suffered greatly. It has been twisted by the hands of chaos and scarred by darkness. But now that I have awakened..."
I took a step forward, the cloak trailing behind me like a shadow made of silence.
"...I shall bring an end to it all."
Then, without grandeur, I bowed. Low and deep, not as a gesture of submission, but of solemn promise.
As I rose, my gaze swept across the crowd.
"My name is Nicholas, Anstalionah. From this day forth, I shall be your king..."
My voice dropped into stillness, absolute and divine."...and your god."
…
I sat on the throne, leaning back with one leg slung over the armrest, head tilted lazily to the side as Mirabel continued her report.
She was explaining everything. And I do mean everything. Everything that had happened during my slumber.
I had asked her to do this, mostly to understand the scope of work required to turn this place into a functioning kingdom.
My patience was thin. This world grated on me. There were moments when I seriously considered, should I ever recover all my power, simply destroying Fertical altogether.
Of course, that might paint a massive target on my back. According to Mirabel, the people of Fertical worship a god. A real one.
Still, the things I had been hearing lately were interesting. For one, I had apparently once served as a mediator between the gods.
I must have been incredibly powerful. Or perhaps absurdly charismatic.
"Hey, Mirabel," I said, interrupting her mid-sentence. Not that it mattered, I had stopped paying attention a while ago.
"Is there a specific way to regain my power faster?"
She halted. A small blessing.
"You already have all your power," she said. "You just need to remember how to use it. If you want to speed that up, go fight someone."
Useless. That was the same answer she gave me last time. I needed a shortcut, not a sparring match.
Still, I had noticed that anger seemed to unlock something in me.
When Kivana and Malachi irritated me, I remembered how to deal with them. I had activated an ability.
It was called King.
It allowed me to emit pressure upon anyone weaker than me, a pressure that instilled both fear and obedience.
Of course, its effects varied depending on the target's willpower.
Kivana and Malachi had been completely paralyzed by it, which suggested they held a certain perception of me. Perhaps reverence. Or fear.
King was a passive ability. I didn't even need to activate it, it was always there.
Now that I was aware of it, I could temper its intensity. That would probably help with diplomacy.
"How are my new followers settling in?" I asked, shifting to a more upright position.
"Kivana and Malachi have been helping them. Everyone has found places to stay and even roles within the city," she replied.
It had been about a week since they arrived. I had made it a point to keep my distance.
I was not yet sure how to rule a kingdom. After a bit of digging, I had confirmed that Kivana was once my advisor.
That raised a more curious question, what exactly was Mirabel?
I knew she was my most loyal follower, but her authority extended far beyond that. It was obvious. Everyone deferred to her.
There was something else I had come to understand:
My abilities were vast. Extremely vast. I would ask Kivana to help catalogue them later.
I nodded slightly. "That's good. How much money do we have in the reserves?"
I assumed it would be under a hundred gold coins, at best.
The currency in this world was straightforward, a universal system of copper, silver, and gold.
It made trade seamless, and because of that, it had maintained peace among many nations.
Mirabel looked thoughtful for a moment before responding.
"We currently have around one million gold coins in reserve."
My eyes widened slightly. "What?"
She continued without the slightest hesitation.
"Before you went to sleep, you gave each of your followers one million gold coins."
I stared at her, disbelief creeping into my voice. "Wait… were we rich?"
She gave a light shake of her head, her tone level but firm.
"Oh, heavens no. That amount is barely enough to sustain this current population for even a single year of proper upkeep and labor."
I frowned, lips tightening as the weight of her words sank in. Then, a realization struck me.
"How many followers did I have again?"
She paused to think. "Over a hundred. But, as I've told you before, most of them have long since passed."
My brow furrowed deeper. "You don't think Kivana and Malachi still have their shares?"
There was a brief silence. Mirabel glanced at me, and then she laughed.
It was soft, touched with amusement, yet carried a weight of familiarity. It was the kind of laugh reserved for someone you knew too well.
"You were always so naive."
I did not like the implications of that statement. Not at all.