Chapter 18 : The King Who Would Rather Walk
That night, after a long time, the people finally slept peacefully—wrapped in the warmth of their families, no longer haunted by fear.
Rudravaan did not sleep among them.
He sat alone atop the kingdom's outer wall, his sword resting by his side, empty beer bottles scattered around him, as if he were guarding the entire kingdom by himself. The cool night wind brushed against his face as he slowly lay down, staring at the endless sky above.
"Ah…," he murmured softly.
"I think even the heavens wanted this to happen. Just look at the sky… how beautiful it is."
A quiet laugh escaped his lips, and with that, the emperor finally fell asleep beneath the stars.
Morning came.
Morvyn woke in panic.
He rushed through the palace corridors and burst into Fenlor's room, shaking him awake.
"Fenlor! Have you seen Rudravaan?"
Fenlor blinked, confused.
"No… I haven't seen him since yesterday."
Morvyn's face went pale. Without another word, he rushed out, questioning guards, servants, and citizens alike. No one had seen the emperor. Soon, the entire kingdom was searching.
The tension spread.
Henry, awakened by the commotion, stepped out and found Fenlor already dressed.
"What's happening so early?" Henry asked.
"Rudravaan is missing," Fenlor replied grimly.
Henry froze.
"What? Where would he go?"
Fenlor clenched his jaw.
"I don't know. Judging by his behavior… who knows? He might've gone alone to an enemy fortress."
Henry's face drained of color.
"Then we need to find him—fast."
They split up, searching every corner of the city.
Then Henry noticed something strange—a flash of light reflecting from somewhere high above. Squinting, he followed it with his eyes.
"…Beer bottles?"
They were glinting in the sunlight—on top of the kingdom wall.
Henry immediately called Fenlor.
"Climb the wall. Now."
Fenlor hesitated, confused, but did as Henry said. The moment he reached the top, his breath caught.
There lay Rudravaan.
Sleeping.
Surrounded by empty bottles.
"…"
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Fenlor tried shaking him, calling his name—but Rudravaan didn't budge.
Fenlor climbed down and informed Morvyn.
Morvyn's expression darkened instantly.
Without hesitation, he stormed toward the wall, climbed up, and—without warning—kicked Rudravaan.
"HEY—!" Fenlor shouted. "He'll die if he falls from there!"
Rudravaan's body dropped.
But just before hitting the ground, his eyes snapped open. He twisted midair, adjusted his stance, and landed smoothly on his feet without a single injury.
Morvyn scoffed.
"If he were going to die from that, he would've died a long time ago."
Rudravaan rubbed his head and looked up.
"Hey… I would die if you pushed me from that height."
Morvyn snapped back, furious.
"Then why the hell is the emperor sleeping on the kingdom wall?!"
Rudravaan sighed and stretched.
"Calm down. I'm here now, right? So there's nothing to worry about."
Morvyn crossed his arms.
"The entire kingdom is searching for you. Go say something."
"…Okay," Rudravaan muttered, rubbing his temples.
He walked to the center of the city, where announcements were always made. The people gathered quickly, anxiety written on their faces.
Rudravaan spoke calmly.
"First of all—relax. I'm here. There's no need to worry."
A wave of relief passed through the crowd.
"Now, for the important announcement," he continued.
"We must restore our kingdom. Anyone willing to volunteer for reconstruction work, give your name to Morvyn—our physician and my trusted steward."
Murmurs spread.
"We also plan to open a martial arts academy. Those interested may register with Morvyn as well. If you have any questions—ask now."
The people bowed deeply.
"If you say so, Your Majesty."
Rudravaan smiled faintly and turned away.
Later, he spoke quietly to Morvyn.
"It'll take time to restore the kingdom's former glory."
Morvyn nodded.
"Yes… after everything that happened."
Rudravaan then turned to Fenlor.
"Gather all the higher officials. Bring them to the palace."
Fenlor nodded.
"We're holding a meeting."
Rudravaan stepped into the palace.
Just yesterday, this place had been drowned in blood. Corpses had filled the halls, screams echoing from every corner. Yet now—
It was spotless.
The marble floors gleamed. The air was calm. It was as if the palace itself had erased the memory of slaughter.
Rudravaan stepped into the throne room and let himself fall onto the throne with a tired sigh.
"…Ah. Every time I come back to this place," he muttered, leaning his head against the armrest,
"I'm reminded how much I hate sitting here all day."
Moments later, the great doors opened.
Morvyn entered, followed by the officials of the kingdom. One by one, they took their seats, backs straight, expressions tense. The weight of the kingdom's future pressed heavily upon the room.
Rudravaan leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.
"You're all aware of our current situation," he said calmly.
"And I intend to change it."
The officials listened in silence.
"But first," Rudravaan continued, "we will announce to the world that we have reclaimed our kingdom."
The room erupted.
"Your Majesty!"
"That's far too dangerous!"
"If we announce it now, they'll attack us again—just like before!"
Before the panic could grow, Rudravaan raised a hand.
"No."
The single word silenced them.
"If we wait for the perfect opportunity," he said evenly, "it will never come. That's why we don't wait—we create it."
He rose from the throne, his gaze sharp.
"By announcing our return, we send a message. We invite alliances, trade, and support from other kingdoms. And as for your fear of another war—"
His voice hardened.
"—don't worry. This time will be different."
The officials leaned forward.
"That is why I ordered the creation of a martial arts academy," Rudravaan continued.
"Not just for soldiers—but for our citizens. If war comes again, even a farmer should be able to stand against a trained soldier and protect his family."
He paused, his gaze sharpening.
"And if they return with the support of other kingdoms…"
A faint, dangerous smile appeared on his lips.
"…then I have other plans."
The room fell silent.
"So you don't have to worry," he finished calmly.
Silence followed.
Then, slowly, the officials exchanged glances.
One by one, they nodded.
"…We understand, Your Majesty."
The meeting continued for hours, discussing defenses, resources, diplomacy, and reconstruction. By the time it ended, exhaustion lined every face.
The officials bowed deeply and departed.
Only Morvyn remained.
Rudravaan sank back into the throne and exhaled.
"So," he asked casually, "how many volunteers signed up for reconstruction?"
Morvyn smiled.
"A great many. Some even said they don't want payment."
Rudravaan blinked.
"…What did I do to deserve this much devotion?"
Morvyn chuckled softly.
"These people have watched you grow—from a reckless boy to their emperor," he said.
"To them, you're not just a ruler. You're family."
He paused.
"And you might not remember this—but the day you challenged the nobles and claimed the throne for the sake of the people… they believed you gave them freedom."
Rudravaan groaned.
"Ah… that was a long time ago. Why bring that up now?"
Morvyn smiled warmly.
"For you, it may have been nothing. But for us—"
"You were a savior."
Rudravaan waved his hand dismissively.
"Alright, alright. I get it. Can we talk about something else now?"
Morvyn turned away slightly, smiling to himself.
You never once take credit for anything, he thought.
And that—more than power or fear—was why the people followed him.