Chapter 41: The Coronation
The morning of August 16th broke over the capital of Arthenburg just a day after the cleansing of the parasites of the nation. However, it was not clearly cleansed yet. The old era had to be formally and publicly severed. The people of the Leo Principality needed to see this.
In the center of the main plaza, a massive wooden scaffold had been erected overnight by Thorgar's engineers. Thousands of citizens—commoners, merchants, former slaves, and beastkin—pressed against the barricades guarded by the Venator Order and Royal Guards.
Marquis Orientis and his lackeys were dragged up the wooden steps, stripped of their golden silks, and forced into coarse gray penitents' tunics. The arrogance that had once defined the marquis was utterly gone, replaced by a hollow, trembling terror. His eyes darted across the sea of common faces, perhaps searching for a rescuer, but all that awaited him was the certainty of absolute doom.
I stood on the elevated platform, dressed in a simple, military-cut black coat. Beside me stood Vice-Captain Leontar, holding the heavy, broad-bladed executioner's sword.
I declared.
Everyone listened in silence.
"Marquis Orientis of the Eastern Province,"
"You have been found guilty of high treason against the Crown, of conspiring to sell the capital to the Empire, and of actively fostering the illegal subjugation of this nation's people. According to the Crown's judgment, in accordance with the Law of the Principality, high treason is the highest crime and shall be punishable by death. For the sake of the realm and by the law of the nation, I, Grand Prince Alexius Demetrios Leo, sentence you to death. May your soul burn in hell for eternity."
Orientis opened his mouth, perhaps to curse me, perhaps to beg.
I gave a single, sharp nod.
Leontar swung the blade, a flash of crimson aura severing flesh and bone with zero resistance.
The head of the former Marquis fell to the wooden planks with a heavy thud.
For a heartbeat, the capital held its breath, then a great roar of relief burst from the crowd like chains breaking and a sickness being cut from the body of the nation, and as the executioners continued their work, I turned away from the scaffold and walked back into the palace.
.......
By early afternoon, the scent of blood in the city had been completely replaced by the smell of burning myrrh, incense, and crushed lotus flowers.
The Grand Cathedral of Deos stood on the highest point of Arthenburg's inner city, a grand old building with tall marble pillars carved with the story of the world's creation, huge stained-glass windows, and polished stone floors glowing with many colors.
According to the ancient traditions of the realm, the ruler of the Leo Principality could only truly ascend to the throne through the divine mandate recognized within these hallowed walls.
I stood in the vestibule, flanked by Aelrue and Rosy, who were adjusting the heavy ceremonial regalia I now wore. Gone was the simple military coat. I was draped in a sweeping mantle of deep crimson and royal blue, embroidered with the silver crest of the Black Wolf. A high-collared doublet of woven mithril thread protected my chest, while a heavy velvet cape trailed behind me.
"The assembly is ready, Your Highness."
Appearing from the shadows, Vane wore formal dark attire and constantly scanned the cathedral's upper galleries for threats.
The massive oak and iron doors of the inner sanctuary slowly ground open. A choir of three hundred voices, positioned in the highest balconies, began to sing an ethereal hymn in the ancient tongue.
It had been over one year since I came here.
I stepped into the cathedral.
The huge hall was completely full, and the crowd was unlike anything seen before. In the past, coronations were private events, attended only by high-ranking human nobles dressed in rich and fancy clothes.
Today, the seats were filled with the real strength of the Principality. I saw Minister Bellica Lauranto and the newly chosen civil servants. I saw Thorgar and the guildmasters of the industrial districts, their clothes still marked with soot. I saw my grandfather, Governor-General Custodian, standing proudly beside the fiercely loyal Provisional Governor Lupus and Governor-General Ares Revalis.
But more importantly, I saw something new. Elven scholars, Dwarven smiths, and Beastkin tribal representatives stood side by side with human merchants and generals. The result of the end of the status system and the declaration of full racial equality had changed the nation itself in a single night.
As I slowly walked down the long red carpet toward the high altar, my System's [Analysis/Inspect] skill flickered at the edge of my sight, studying the sacred design of the cathedral.
I had ordered a coronation unlike any before it, one that honored all faiths. I was not only the ruler of humans, but of every race within my borders. Because of that, I needed the blessing of all their gods.
However, as I neared the transept, my eyes fixed on one clear and deliberate empty space.
The first three rows on the eastern side, usually kept for the highest church leaders, were completely empty. The soft velvet seats had not been touched.
Those seats belonged to Sanctus Humanitas—the Human Church.
I kept my face calm, thinking through the political meaning behind their absence. The Faith of Deos was the old and leading religion of the Principality, teaching that the Creator Goddess gave birth to all races as equals. On the other hand, Sanctus Humanitas was a newer and more hardline rival, founded about two hundred years ago during the Great Human Expansion.
They worshipped Homosanctus, the Divine Man. They openly preached that humans were above all other races, and they supported strict order and conquest across the continent. For two hundred years, they had given religious and legal support to the enslavement of demi-humans and the harsh class system enforced by the nobility.
I had invited them. We badly needed their priests, because their light healing magic was the best on the continent. However, their envoy refused without hesitation. They were disgusted by my execution of the human nobles, my ending of the slave trade, and my decision to raise the "lesser races" into positions as civil servants.
By refusing to attend my coronation, the Human Supremacy Church had made its position clear. In silence, they were declaring that my rule was not legitimate in the eyes of their god.
Fools, I just slaughtered the entire aristocracy in a single night, and you think empty chairs will intimidate me?
They had openly marked themselves as an enemy faction. I would not move against them immediately—I needed the economy to stabilize first. I made a mental note to completely replace their monopoly on healing magic. Once they lost their utility, I would dismantle their church.
I reached the foot of the high altar and pushed thoughts of future wars from my mind, focusing instead on the sacred moment before me.
Standing there was a half-circle of the realm's spiritual leaders. At the center stood the High Priestess of Deos, an elderly woman who gave off a great and comforting sense of power, dressed in flowing white and gold robes.
The choir stopped.
"Alexius of the House of Leo,"
"You stand before the Mother of the World, Creator of the Realm and Guidance of the Benevolent, as a steward of Her children. Are you prepared to receive the burdens of the earth?"
"I am," I said, bowing my head respectfully.
To my left, a broad-shouldered Dwarven Forgemaster marked by many scars stepped forward as the representative of Ferrumkara, the God of Forging and Craft, carrying a perfectly polished small iron anvil, while the sharp smell of coal and burning oil cut through the sweet incense in the air.
"The fires of Ferrumkara burn hottest in the hearts of those who build,"
"May your reign be as unbreakable as black steel. May your foundries never cool. We bless your industry, Grand Prince."
"I accept the fire of the forge," I said, bowing my head respectfully again.
As the dwarf stepped back, an elven priestess in soft green robes stepped forward to represent Ventaphala, the Goddess of Wind and Life, and as she moved, the air in the cathedral felt lighter, carrying the faint smell of pine and rain while a gentle breeze drifted down through the open skylight above us.
She raised a silver-leafed willow branch decorated with dozens of tiny crystal chimes, and when the wind touched them, a beautiful melody rang out.
"The winds of Ventaphala wash away the decay of the past. You have broken the chains of our people and given us the sky. We bless your breath, your life, and the clear path of your rule."
"I accept the grace of the wind."
Next, two figures stepped forward from the right: a huge lion-kin warrior with bone beads woven into his mane, and a lean wolf-kin shaman holding a twisted oak staff. They were the representatives of Paxdhama and Visbellu, the Beastkin gods of peace and strength. For centuries, they had been forbidden from entering this cathedral, but today, they stood in its holiest chamber.
The lion-kin and wolf-kin placed a heavy braided totem of woven grass and polished predator teeth into my hands together.
"Visbellu honors the apex predator. Paxdhama honors the protector of the pack. You gave our cubs a future without collars. The tribes offer you our strength in war, and our loyalty in peace," they said together, giving the blessing.
"I accept the strength of the pack," I said, holding the totem firmly.
Finally, Vice-Captain Leontar and my grandfather, Marquess Custodian, stepped forward in the polished, battle-scarred armor of military commanders, representing the Church of Bellumara, the Goddess of War. The honor was given to the strongest in the capital by the bishop of the Church, since he was too old to stand up and he was the only one left in the capital. I needed to think about them for the future, since his blessing gave a buff to the strength of the soldiers for a period of time. The old man watched from the audience and smiled.
Both men drew their swords and crossed the blades in front of me.
"Bellumara cares for discipline, for the blood shed to protect the innocent. May your blade remain sharp, Alexius. May your tactical mind never dull. The armies of the Principality bless your command."
"I accept the weight of the sword." The blessings of all faiths were complete, and in just ten minutes, the ceremony became a perfect show of political and cultural unity that won me the fierce loyalty of the Dwarven industrial base, the Elven magic scholars, the Beastkin warriors, and the human military.
The High Priestess of Deos stepped forward to administer the final, binding rite.
She held a small, crystalline vial of sacred golden oil.
"Kneel, Alexius," she commanded.
I lowered myself to one knee on the cold marble floor. The High Priestess dipped her thumb into the vial, stepped close, and pressed the warm oil onto my forehead to draw the ancient sacred mark of the Creator Goddess, and I could feel it softly pulse with pure, untouched power.
She began to speak in the ancient liturgical tongue of the realm.
"Iuro te, coram matre omnium, ut terram hanc custodias."
Do you swear, before the Mother of All, to guard this land?
"I swear it."
"Iuro te, ut aequitatem inter omnes gentes serves, ut umbras depellas, et lucem foveas."
Do you swear to preserve equality among all peoples, to drive back the shadows, and to nurture the light?
"I swear it."
"Tunc per ius sanguinis et voluntatem divinam..." Then by right of blood and divine will...
An acolyte stepped forward carrying a heavy velvet cushion, and resting upon it was the highest symbol of the nation's rule: the Crown of Leo.
It was a magnificent ancient crown, and unlike the delicate and overly decorated crowns of the old nobility, it had been made for warlords and conquerors, forged from thick dark imperial gold shaped like the jagged peaks of a mountain range, with a huge flawless sapphire at its center and twin rubies on each side that seemed to burn with fire from within.
The High Priestess lifted the heavy crown with both hands.
"The era of corruption is concluded,"
"The blood of the traitors has washed the throne clean. The Mother smiles upon the Black Wolf!"
She lowered the crown, and its heavy, cold weight settled on my brow, the great weight of the gold grounding me and tying my soul to the land beneath my feet.
"Rise!"
I stood up, the crown resting perfectly atop my head.
The High Priestess turned to face the vast congregation, throwing her arms wide.
"Behold your Sovereign! The First of His Name! Defender of the Faiths, Breaker of Chains, and the Absolute Ruler of the Realm! I present to you: Grand Prince Alexander the First of the Leo Principality!"
The cathedral burst with sound as the choir in the balconies began a loud song of drums and brass, and the three hundred nobles, officials, generals, and scholars in the pews fell to one knee together and bowed their heads to the floor.
I looked out over the kneeling assembly. The power dynamic of the nation had been entirely rewritten. I was no longer fighting for control. I was in control.
"Long Live the Grand Prince!"
"Long Live Alexander I!"
"Long Live the Leo Principality!"
"Open the doors," I commanded Vane, who was kneeling at the edge of the altar.
Vane signaled the royal guards. The massive, fifty-foot oak and iron doors at the rear of the cathedral were hauled open, letting the blinding afternoon sunlight spill into the incense-heavy nave.
I walked down the long aisle, the heavy velvet cape trailing behind me. As I crossed the threshold and stepped out onto the massive stone plaza overlooking the capital, a wall of sound hit me with the force of a physical blow.
The two hundred thousand people gathered in the streets, on the rooftops, and in the squares below the cathedral united their voices. Spontaneously, the massive crowd began to sing the Anthem of the Black Wolf—the national anthem of the Leo Principality.
It was a thunderous melody, echoing with centuries of pride and the heavy rhythm of a marching army. Heard from the throats of a truly free people, it sounded like the birth of a new Empire. They even changed the anthem for the better.
When the final verse echoed over the rooftops, the crowd erupted.
"Long live the Grand Prince!"
"Long live Alexander I! Long live the Leo Principality!"
I stood at the edge of the grand steps, looking out over the endless sea of cheering citizens. They threw flower petals, they waved banners of the Black Wolf, and they chanted my name until their throats bled.
I raised my right hand, acknowledging their devotion, and the roar doubled in intensity.
The political maneuvering, the assassinations, the economic warfare, and the brutal purges—it had all culminated in this single, perfect moment.
[Ding!
Congratulations on completing the first step.
You have become the true ruler of the nation.
You level up!
You are now level 60.
Principality Management Interface Unlocked.
An S-rank gift box has been received.
Wish you all the best in uniting the world. May Deos bless your future.]
The reign of the Grand Prince Alexander I had begun.
(Continue....)