The morning sun in Solstheim didn't feel warm. Its pale light pierced through the chamber window, illuminating the figure of Elena, who was still curled up at the edge of the bed. She looked exhausted, her eyes puffy, and the maid outfit she still wore was wrinkled. I released my grip on her hand, feeling her still unstable pulse.
"Wake up," I said curtly.
She flinched, immediately sitting bolt upright with eyes full of vigilance. The General's arrogance she possessed yesterday had now eroded, replaced by the instincts of a captive.
"Bathe quickly and clean yourself. We depart in an hour," I stood up, letting [The Tyrant's Regalia] drape over my body automatically. "And don't even think about looking for your military uniform. From this day forward, that outfit is the only thing you are permitted to wear."
...
An hour later, the palace's main gate swung open.
I didn't use an ordinary horse-drawn carriage. From my Vault, I summoned a vehicle artifact I had once obtained from a raid boss in the northern polar regions: [The Dreadnought Sled]. It was a massive black metal platform that hovered a few inches above the ground, powered by black mana crystals that emitted a cold vapor.
I stood in the center of the platform, leaning against a small throne I had intentionally moved from the dining hall. Beside me stood Elena, her hands bound in front of her. The cold morning wind made her exposed maid outfit unable to protect her from shivering, but I didn't care.
"Move," I commanded the vehicle's magical drive.
As we exited the palace gates toward the capital's main road, I expected a crowd. And indeed, they were there. Thousands of Solstheim citizens lined the streets leading to the outer gate.
However, there wasn't a single sound.
No hero's cheers. No hysterical weeping. There was only a silence so heavy that the clinking of the chain around Elena's neck sounded like a death knell. They stood like statues, bowing their heads so low that their foreheads almost touched the ground as my vehicle passed.
"Look at them, Elena," I whispered, pulling her chain so she would turn toward her people. "Look at how they look at you. Or rather, look at how they don't dare look at you."
Elena bit her lip so hard it bled. "They aren't honoring you... they hate you."
"Hatred is the most honest form of recognition," I smiled, waving my hand with an elegant gesture as if I were a beloved king. "I prefer they hate me in silence than love me with falsehood. Fear is a law that never betrays."
I saw a small child in the front row try to look up, but his mother immediately pressed the child's head down with trembling hands. I flicked my fingers, and a small golden ripple opened in front of them.
It wasn't a sword that came out. I dropped a single coin of pure gold—looted from another player—before them.
"Take it," my voice boomed through the voice-amplification magic that filled the entire city. "Consider this the rental fee for the destruction I shall bring back to this world."
The crowd bowed even lower. The gold coin clinked against the cold cobblestones, but no one dared touch it. To them, it wasn't money. It was a cursed coin from a demon.
"You are so cruel, Mikhael," Elena whispered, her tears falling onto her white apron. "You destroy their dignity even with your gifts."
"Cruel? No. I am simply efficient. I am teaching them that under my rule, even gold has no value if they do not have my permission to hold it."
We continued to glide past the city's outer gates. Behind us, the capital of Solstheim looked like a dead city inhabited by broken souls. Not a single knight attempted to chase or halt my departure. They knew that opposing me meant erasing their bloodline from the map.
As we entered the trail toward the northern border—the territory bordering the Holy Kingdom of Lumina—I opened the system map before me.
[Target Detected: Holy Kingdom of Lumina]
[Distance: 200 Miles]
[Status: Alert Level - High]
"So, Lumina already knows I'm coming," I murmured, stroking the hilt of the [Fragment of Harpe] at my hip. "Good. I hate a party that hasn't been prepared for."
I glanced at Elena, who was still standing rigid beside me, her blonde hair fluttering in the strong wind as our vehicle began to pick up speed.
"Tell me, Elena. Is it true their army of angels can fly high? I want to know how far my swords will have to chase them in the sky later."
Elena stared at the horizon with a vacant gaze. "You won't just be facing soldiers, Mikhael. You will face Saintess Althea. She is God's representative in this world. Her holy magic will burn you to the very soul."
"A Saintess?" I laughed, a laugh that this time sounded truly bloodthirsty. "I've killed dozens of players with the title of 'Saint' or 'Holy One' in the game. They all have one thing in common: they scream with the exact same pitch when I take their heads."
I pulled Elena's chain, forcing her to sit beside my throne as we pierced through the morning mist toward enemy territory.
"Let's see if their 'God' has the guts to intervene when I use their artifacts as meat cleavers."
The journey to Lumina had just begun, and the silence I left in Solstheim was merely the overture to the symphony of destruction I would soon compose in their holy land.