Chapter 43:

Kingdom Fall (Marak)

March To The Capital (book 1 of 2 of the Capital series)


It was a great shame that they destroyed the webgate in Tundo. Oh well. It doesn’t matter. I know the Crystal Kingdom has one just like it, and this time. I won’t give them the time to destroy it.
For a week we prepared our siege, and when it was time to strike, they didn’t have time to react.
The crystal bolts smash through their crystal walls like glass. We pour into the city like a tide of water, cutting down whoever gets in our way. The defenders can do nothing but pray to their pathetic Gods as we end their lives.
The war for the south is over. Their disgusting kind failed. This isn’t like the bloodbath in Tundo. Here, they are unwilling to burn their buildings or do anything to stop us. Not that it matters in the end.
As I make my way to the tower where the webgate resides, I give myself the time to enjoy the scenery of my hard work, for tomorrow, all of this will change into my vision.
Their crystal statues of figures from the past look down on me as I walk through their halls, watching as I desecrate them with the blood of their pathetic people who try to fight me off, to prevent me from entering their tower.
I need to remind them who the rightful rulers of this new kingdom are after this is over. I won’t allow them to slow me down again.
I wish May could see this place, to see what I have accomplished. To live in a world where she can truly be free. But my heart aches, knowing she never saw the surface world, the beauty of what we thought impossible. Never saw trees, swamps, and mountains. If only she could see what snow looked like up here, for how beautiful and white it is…
But I need to focus on the moment. My prize awaits.
As I kick down the door to gaze at the webgate, my frustration takes over, as it is in rubble.
Their pathetic General is here, on his knees in front of my webgate.
I kick him over to see his face covered in his own tears and snot. The beast can’t muster a word. How pathetic!
‘You fool! You dare destroy my prize? What is rightfully mine to control!?’
An old man with a walking stick approaches me from the rubble of the webgate. ‘No, Marak. It is not your right to control it,’ he says causally.
‘Who are you?’ I ask the strange man.
‘I’m the Shaman that healed your wounds.’ He points to my white fur. ‘And I think it is time I talk to you about my standing on the war.’
I grip my sword. There is something about this man that I don’t trust.
‘A Cinari would not be on any side besides their own. What makes you any different?’
The old man taps the ground with his stick, causing the room to disappear into darkness. Only me and this man can be seen in the dark void he has created.
‘Witch!’ I shout while I ready myself for battle.
Whatever this beast is, it isn’t a normal Cinari like I have fought before.
‘I am not here to fight, Marak. I would like to address my terms and conditions, however I won’t fight against you. Nor will I fight with you.’
‘Then what are you? An observer?’
‘You could say that. I have the power to change the tide of war to anyone’s favour, if anyone breaks their agreement. So, this is my condition. I do not care if you enslave one another, or how many soldiers you kill or cities you burn to the ground. The only condition that you must follow is you cannot exterminate the elves.’
‘That’s it?’
The man raises a brow. ‘Yes, that is all.’
I put my sword down. ‘Good, now get lost.’
The man chuckles as he taps his stick, bringing us back to the real world. Or bringing the world back to us.
‘I thought a man of your reputation would need a lot more convicting.’
‘I didn’t need convincing, Cinari. I just need to know my obstacles when I rule this land. And when I eventually head north.’
The man frowns. ‘You won the war for the south, Marak. But winning the north won’t be so easy. You will encounter your equal, and he will do everything in his power to beat you. Your war is just and moral, a war for freedom from slavery, is important, but-’
‘No buts, old man,’ I interrupt the Shaman. ‘Don’t tell me you support our freedom when before you said you don’t care if we enslave one another. You’re a powerful and a dangerous threat to my rule, but don’t lecture me on morality or what is just when you would just sit on the sidelines. You don’t care about any of us. You never cared for my people when we cried and prayed for help. I’ll follow your conditions just because I don’t have the time to deal with you. For now, at least. But at this moment, I suggest you leave my kingdom.’
The man nods as he leaves the room without saying a word, leaving me with the worm of the General.
He is not good enough to be a Vern, he would not be of any use. He is the reason I won the south, so in a way, I am thankful for him.
Without a thought, I drive my sword into him, just to end the sight of disgrace in front of me.
I pick up the General’s helmet. An image of a large reptilian beast with wings above the eye sockets decorates the helm. In the middle is a bird with three tails.
Such a strange design for a barbaric species. Clearly, they never knew what true civilization is, needing art to make themselves look great and to hide their imperfections. In reality, they parasites. A weed that needs to be taken out from the root. I won’t have their weak species be a stain to my Empire.
Alex runs into the room with a wide smile.
‘The city’s defenders have surrendered to us. The war is over! We’ve won!’
I growl at the boy, ‘No, we still have work to do. We have the north to take over.’
‘But Marak, we don’t have the means to go up there.’
‘Not yet.’ I walk over to Alex to give him the helmet of the dead General. ‘We will have to prepare first, for the Cinari will have a new General.’
Alex examines the helmet, rubbing his fingers on the engravings. ‘Who is going to be their next General?’
We never found the Commander’s body, and if he survived, he will pose a much larger threat to me than any other Cinari I have encountered. The old man must be referring to him. There is no one else as clever as him. No one like Volas.
‘Prepare our forces. We must hold the south at any cost. We will make the Cinari under our rule to plough the fields, mine our ores, and forge us our steel. And they will know their new king.’