With the Gift of God, King Elmas opened a tear through reality that swallowed his entire kingdom whole, leaving no trace of its existence in the real world.
The Gift of God's operation was similar to that of the Nexus Abyss Key, a unique glowing orb that the first-generation King of Terath, much like the other top five kings, possessed.
The only difference was that the former's dimension, unlike the Nexus Abyss, was almost empty before swallowing Terath.
King Elmas, recalling the noncommittal answers he would receive from his ancestors whenever he asked about the origin of the Nexus Abyss, had an inkling that the Nexus Abyss key, as well as the other five relics the other kingdoms possessed, all came from God.
But fearing the kings would be labeled heretics, or for some other reason, they decided not to enlighten their subjects.
"It was as if God had created it with the knowledge of what was to occur."
King Elmas fell to his knees in praise.
"God is truly almighty."
He had saved his people and, most importantly, had saved the innocent lives of the other kingdoms.
And to show their adulation, the King of Terath and the Nightmares slowly but surely began to rebuild their eighty-five-percent-destroyed city in the name of God, The Pawn.
That was ten years ago.
And now, with the kingdom having rebuilt fifty percent of the damage, the King of Terath, Elmas Vikas, was preparing to set out and visit the Grand Pawn's Temple in the empty holy city of Skaki.
Standing silently near his large gray linen bed, King Elmas looked on.
Before him, lying on the bed, were a small brown bag, a bouquet of yellow-petaled flowers, a small transparent bottle of oil, and two candles.
He stared contemplatively, eventually losing himself to imagination.
Knock! Knock!
The slight tapping on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
Quickly, he stuffed the items into the small brown bag before carrying it on his back.
He walked toward the door and, turning the knob, slightly opened it.
"Ah, King Elmas, I was told you called for me."
A middle-aged man accompanied by two men in black armor said casually as he leaned against the wall with one arm.
Wearing simple gray shorts, sandals, and a casual mottled T-shirt, and grinning extravagantly, one would think he was not meeting the king but a friend.
The man was Fiodoh, a carriage driver of the palace.
He was the type of man who, regardless of how different a situation was, stayed true to his nature.
To him, everyone was equal in his eyes.
Yes, even his own king.
And this, coupled with his humor, was what made him the king's favorite driver.
Most Nightmares around King Elmas, aside from his Great Advisor and wives, portrayed personalities far different from their own.
But this man was different.
"Gonna open the door or what? And goodness gracious, what in the hell is our great king wearing?"
Well, perhaps too different.
The two armored men, already used to Fiodoh's behavior, slightly shook their heads.
With the king's command, they left.
King Elmas smiled lightly as he said,
"Come on in, Fiodoh."
Having entered the room, Fiodoh stood by the window, gazing at the golden sun that was slowly rising from the horizon.
"Mmm..."
He turned to look at King Elmas, who was dressed in a black hooded robe.
"So where are we heading?"
"The Holy City."
Fiodoh's brow knitted.
The Holy City, ninety kilometers away, was a place the King of Terath consistently visited two to three times each year.
His first visit was in early January, praying to God for a prosperous year.
Then, at the end of the year, he would return to thank God for a prosperous year.
Only occasionally did he visit the Holy City for a third time, and when he did, it was to mourn the death of an important member of the kingdom.
'But who has passed away?'
Fiodoh's brow softened as these thoughts surfaced in his mind.
He looked at his king.
He looked as indifferent as ever.
He wanted to say something but stopped himself.
Perhaps it was best not to pry any further.
'Even if the king is hiding something, it is without a doubt for the good of his people.'
Such was the belief his subjects had in him.
Fiodoh smiled as his usual tone returned.
"Okay then, let me just clean up the carriage."
Just as he said this, Fiodoh walked toward the door when King Elmas spoke.
"And please do not let the Great Advisor, the queens, or the prince know of my journey."
Fiodoh, with one hand in his pocket, simply waved in agreement.
Twenty minutes later, King Elmas, now inside a carriage with undrawn curtains, sat quietly, listening to his carriage driver argue with the two gatekeepers of the palace.
"Fiodoh, this is the thirtieth time you've broken the rule of our kingdom."
"Is it, though?"
"Of course it is."
"No, it's actually thirty-two."
"Huh. You say that as if it's a good thing."
The rule they were referring to was simple:
Four-wheeled carriages must, without fail, be driven by two perfectly healthy male horses.
This was to increase protection for both the driver and the passengers.
The female Nightmare horses were known to be quite primal compared to their male counterparts.
"Come on, guys, look at her. She's as calm as a child," he said.
Noting they would not be swayed so easily, Fiodoh turned to the beggar.
"Okay, I'm sorry, guys. Let me just drive this once. I promise to bring souvenirs on my return."
"Just what type?"
Fiodoh laughed before saying,
"The good stuff."
'Drinking on duty.'
King Elmas shook his head as he understood what his guards had been doing all this while.
'Hope First Knight Lincoln does not find out. Otherwise, these men will be done for.'
The two guards, knowing that alcohol was not something that could easily be acquired in the capital city of Biston, especially if one worked in the palace, looked at each other before one of them turned to Fiodoh and slightly nodded.
The gigantic gate was pulled upward by means of two chains, revealing a long concrete bridge extending from the lofty palace to a magnificent city illuminated by the glow of the morning golden sun.