Chapter 19: No Time!
The two walked down the corridor briefly before entering a modest yet open chamber. At the center stood a massive table, its surface completely covered by a detailed map that stretched from edge to edge, marking every kingdom, border, and stronghold on the continent. Five chairs encircled it—four belonging to the generals, and one at the far end beneath a towering Althanis flag.
Portraits hung on the walls behind each chair—three men, two women—all in regal attire, painted with stoic expressions. Basil's gaze caught on the largest painting.
Damn. She looks good in that.
Mirian passed him, her boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. She gestured toward the seats.
"This is my war room," she said, her voice calm but heavy with unseen burdens. "My four generals sit here. It's where we plan our campaigns, determine troop movements, and craft battle strategies." She ran her fingers across the raised ridges of the map, pausing over several territories. "Each general commands about fifteen thousand men. I grant them full autonomy in their domains—victory earns rewards and land. But failure?" Her eyes hardened. "They either step down willingly… or I remove their heads."
She said it so flatly, so dispassionately, that Basil had to consciously remind himself who she was. No wonder they fear her. She doesn't tolerate weakness.
She pointed to the demon kingdoms—two ominous, darkened regions looming at the northern and southern borders of Althanis. Her finger tapped the northern kingdom with grim precision.
"My scouts report they're preparing for war. In six months, they'll be ready to strike the northern border."
Basil studied her. Beneath the steely mask of command, the Empress looked… exhausted. He could see it now—the weariness pressing down on her shoulders, the kind only carried by someone who bore a nation's weight alone for far too long.
She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. "Our defenses aren't ready. The north is exposed. My best general is stationed in the south, watching the second demon kingdom. Another oversees the western and eastern fronts—neither of which pose a significant threat. That leaves me with only half our forces to repel a full-scale northern invasion."
Her voice faltered.
"If I pull troops from other regions, we risk collapse on every front. I have no good options."
Then she turned to him—her crimson eyes filled with something Basil hadn't expected.
Desperation.
"I know we've just met, and already I'm asking too much," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "But please… help me. I've been holding this empire together with my bare hands, and I can't do it alone anymore."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Basil's chest tightened.
He hated seeing people cry.
Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.
She tensed—uncertain, unused to comfort—but then slowly relaxed, melting into his embrace. Her fingers curled into his tunic, silent sobs trembling through her.
"It's okay," Basil murmured, resting his chin lightly on her head. "I get it."
He thought of his family… of everything he'd lost to the demons.
"I know what it's like to have everything taken from you. And I'll be damned if I let anyone else go through that."
Mirian clung to him, burying her face against his chest. She had built her life behind walls—unyielding and cold—but now, in his arms, she allowed herself to feel.
Just for a moment.
She eventually pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "Thank you," she whispered.
Basil offered her a quiet smile. "Anytime."
She straightened, regaining composure, and turned back toward the table.
"I need you to build me an elite unit. A force of about five hundred men—each one a captain leading a squad of ten. A total of 5,000 troops. Within that force, I want a knight company of fifty—the best of the best."
Basil folded his arms. "And their purpose?"
"They'll be our spearpoint. A rapid-response force. They'll take on high-risk missions before the battles even start." She exhaled. "I'll set up everything in the next two days so you can begin recruitment. Once your candidates are in place, hold a tournament. Find out who's worth keeping."
Basil nodded slowly, thinking it over.
"With six months… it'll be tight," she admitted. "But it's the best shot we've got."
Basil gave a crooked grin. "It's doable. I'll train them in three months. After that, I'll spend two months training you. Then the last month we'll focus on deployment and strategy. If it all goes well, we'll shut that gate for good."
Mirian exhaled, visibly relieved. She smiled—genuinely, for the first time in days.
"Thank you, Basileus."
His heart skipped.
I've never seen her smile like that before.
Then she added, softly, "With you here… I feel at ease."
Basil turned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, don't expect this for free."
Mirian tilted her head. "I'm prepared to share the empire with you, if that's what you want."
He froze.
She instantly went beet red.
"I MEANT—authority! Equal authority! Not… marriage!"
Basil coughed, face flushing. "Yeah! Obviously! I knew that!"
Silence stretched, awkward and lingering.
Finally, Basil cleared his throat. "Right. I'll start recruiting tomorrow. Find me when you're free, and we'll work on your swordsmanship."
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left.
Mirian stood there a moment, fingers grazing her lips.
Marriage?!
Her blush deepened.
I didn't mean it that way… but…
The thought lingered. What if he had said yes?
A small, secret smile touched her lips.
She leaned against the wall, blowing a stray lock of red hair from her face.
His hug was so warm… I wish it had lasted longer.
⸻
The Next Morning
Basil sat cross-legged on his bed, deep in meditation.
I'm close… the 34th Circle is right there, but something's blocking me.
Mana swirled inside him, spiraling around his core, thrumming like a drumbeat in his veins.
Too many purple circles? Should I shift focus to red? No… that'd mean starting over. Unless… what if I merged them? Combined the principles instead of separating them…
He was on the verge of breaking through—
THUD. THUD.
Someone knocked.
Basil exhaled sharply and ignored it.
THUD. THUD.
A moment later, Lace walked in.
"I knocked," he said, crossing the room, "but you didn't answer. Figured you were asleep."
Basil rubbed his eyes. "Not asleep. Thinking."
Lace grinned. "You were doing that again, weren't you? When are you going to teach me how to do that?"
Basil smirked and snapped his fingers. "Actually, I've got something to ask you."
Lace raised an eyebrow.
"I'm putting together a special legion. The Empress appointed me commander. Five thousand elite soldiers. But I need a Second-in-Command."
Lace froze. "You want me?"
"I've seen you fight. You're fast, smart, and your instincts are sharp. Your level doesn't matter. I'll train you myself—and when I'm done, no one in the legion will be able to touch you."
Lace hesitated, then straightened.
He placed one hand behind his back, then crossed his fist over his chest in the Empire's salute.
"I owe you more than I can ever repay. But beyond that—I respect you. And I'd be honored to follow you."
Basil's purple eyes gleamed. A shadowy aura rippled around him like smoke.
"Good. Then let's build the strongest force this empire has ever seen."
"When demons hear the name Black Legion, and Basileus Narciss who commands them," Lace said proudly, "they'll tremble. And the ones you want to crush? They'll know you're coming."
Basil grinned viciously. "Damn right. Let's go find Julie. She'll know where to start."
They found her assisting a noble in the main hall. After waiting until she finished, Basil approached and asked where recruitment would begin. Julie explained the Empress had already spread word and arranged a viewing station at one of the royal training grounds.
They thanked her and headed out.
The training ground was flanked by the royal gardens—lush, enchanted with mana, and teeming with exotic flowers. Mirian often walked there alone in the afternoons, lost in thought. For every life she had taken—by blade or decree—she planted a flower. Not out of sentiment. No, she had been chosen by the Goddess of Death so something as sentiment rarely crossed her mind. No, the flowers were her record. A count of the dead she bore responsibility for.
To the right of the gardens sat three training grounds. The central arena was where Basil had fought the Empress. To either side, the elite guard and Nella's troops trained in formations, drills, and conditioning.
The third ground held a long desk and tall stack of parchment. A line of nearly two hundred recruits stretched toward it.
"That must be us," Basil said, pointing.
He and Lace approached and took their seats. Lace, familiar with handling logistics, took charge of calling them up one by one, asking for level and top three skills.
But Basil didn't need their words—he scanned each one with a glance. And what he saw?
Lies.
Every single one gave a lower level than they had, offering some mediocre skill while hiding their best.
And the way they carried themselves—slouched, lazy, some snickering—told Basil everything.
I was wondering why only about 200 showed up. But now I get it.
The next man stepped forward. Another lie.
"Why'd you lie?" Basil asked, standing.
"Excuse me?" the man blinked.
"You lied about your level. Why?"
The murmuring stopped. Heads turned.
"Ha! What would you know?" the man sneered. "You're just a propaganda puppet. I doubt you even touched the Empress in that match. Go back to whatever shithole you crawled out of."
Lace stood, halfway unsheathing his sword. "How dare you—!"
Basil raised a hand. "Let him speak."
He stepped down, stopping just before the man, towering over him.
"I don't have time for disobedience," Basil said calmly. "I've got three months to turn a boys who've never seen a demon much less killed one, into ruthless killers before a war hits our doorstep."
Then he turned to the rest.
"Listen, and listen well. If you can't follow orders, if you aren't ready for pain, blood, and watching your friends getting tore apart in front of you, leave now. But if you want your name etched into history… if you're willing to fight for people who may never thank you, to earn shit pay and trust with your life the brothers beside you—then stay."
More than half stepped away.
The arrogant man turned to follow.
"Not you," Basil called. "You lied. And insulted a superior. I'll need an apology."
The man turned and spat in his face.
"You want an apology? There's one."
The next moment happened in a blur—Basil moved like lightning, kneeing the man in the gut and launching him across the training yard into a nearby wall. Gasps echoed. Every eye turned.
Only Basil's footsteps broke the silence as he walked over.
He grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him off the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth.
"I'll give you one more chance," Basil growled, purple eyes glowing with fury. "Apologize—or I rip your head off."
The man stared into those eyes.
He's serious. He'll kill me right here.
"I-I'm sorry, sir!"
Basil smiled and gently set him down. He used a healing spell to mend the worst of the pain.
"Good. What's your name?"
The man saluted weakly. "Thomas, sir!"
Basil turned to the others and raised his voice.
"Thomas is hereby the first Sentinel Captain of the Dawnbreaker Company—our frontline company of 2,500 men! If anyone believes they can take his place, you're welcome to challenge him at today's ranking trials!"
He returned to the desk, noticing the line now extended well past a thousand—men from the other training grounds having joined in.
Now that's more like it, he thought, eyes gleaming.
[]
End of chapter notes:
Stats Window:
- Name: Basileus Narciss
- Age: 22 (639)
- Level: 75
- Job: Eldritch knight
- Title: Goddess's Guardian
- HP: 200/200
- Mana: 33,000/33,000
- STR: 205
- VIT: 80
- INT: 170
- AGI: 112
- PER: 60
- XP to Next Level: 25,300/30,000
- stat points available: 0
- Skill Points Available: 0
Skills Window:
Basic:
- Innocence (F)
- The King (A)
- Swordsmanship (S)
- Mana Control (SSS)
- Charisma (F)
- Crafting (B)
- Longsword Mastery (S)
- Mana Manipulation (F)
- Rune Knowledge (B)
- Healing (C)
- Scholar (A)
- Mana Vision I Guess (C)
- phantom step (E)
- mana slash (D)
- Earth spike (B)
- body reinforcement (D)
- Kneel (F)
- nova bomb (A)
- Mana regeneration (S+)
- poison resistance (E)
- GO AWAY CAN'T YOU TELL I'M BUSY' (A)
Unique:
- Immortality (EX)
- Oversight View (EX)
- Haggle (SS)
- Misfortune (D)
Inventory
- HP Potions x1997
- MP Potions x2000
- Winter Clothes (B)
- Summer Clothes (B)
- bread x100
- jerky x100
- piece of Tess (Removed)
- piece of Rob (Removed)
- piece of Lark (Removed)
- abomination horn x10 (S+)
- jagged dagger (?)
- mana sword (?)
Gold: 60,504
GC: 4,800