Sitting above the King's head was a black crown that shone with crimson and icy-blue luminance — a testament of the gems embedded in it.
The crown adopted a soft rotation as it floated above his head and the aura coming off that item caused even their knees to tremble.
Immediately, each warlord understood that their whole existence could not procure enough might to put a dent on that crown.
But that was far from all.
Draped across their Lord's shoulders was a majestic golden cape. Regal and awe-demanding, it carried a soft yet evident glow, pulsing as the seconds passed, the pulse appeared to be in rhythm with the Kings own breathing. A connection they couldn't explain.
Etched into the cape surface were several silver markings of unknown origin and meaning, but the grandest of them was Eistoriel's own Emblem—Inscribed with a black ink that felt deeper than the dark skies, those warlords had to tear their gazes off it to focus on other details.
They had never seen the emblem of their nation look so captivating. A mountain upon which a crown sat. The cape appeared impenetrable and it perfectly concealed the King's weighty presence.
Still, that was not all.
Underneath the cape, the King stood clad in armor that looked more sculpted than forged—layer upon layer of emerald scales overlapping the hide of what appeared to have been an actual dragon! An ancient one at that!
Each plate caught light with a deep, oceanic gleam, literally shifting between jade and shadow, as though the metal itself breathed.
Silver filigree traced the armor's edges like royal sigils, sharp yet elegant. All of these framed their liege's form with deliberate majesty rather than brute force.
Broad, wing-like pauldrons crowned his shoulders, allowing him appear taller than he already was. It was as if his throne followed wherever he stood.
From his head to his toe, he appeared god-like. That ridiculously grand armor did not merely protect him, it announced him!
To the warlords, that sight was nothing short of overwhelming. Before he even gave the command, they felt it—the certainty that this King of theirs could not be moved. A King whose reign was as enduring as a mountain, and his reach as inevitable as the tides.
Fear, real one, compelled them into reverence, and their doubts dissolved into loyalty.
How could they ever think he did not care? How could they have considered in their hearts that he had forsaken his kingdom? When he proudly displayed its emblem on himself?
Memories of his greatness flooded their minds yet again, and they felt their hearts thrum; thrum in love, admiration, and unrestrained surrender.
It had been long since they had seen him fairly serious, but now in their eyes he was no longer just their King; no, they beheld the very embodiment of Eistoriel itself!
As long as he was, Eistoriel could never cease. As long as he sat on the throne, they could never be wiped out, he was the first and the last thing they needed.
It didn't matter if all the knights were snuffed out, as long as he was alive Eistoriel would not only live. She would THRIVE!
Less than a minute had passed since they laid eyes on him, but it felt like it had been an eternity.
Heavy thuds rang out a soon after, as all the warlords crashed to their knees, in a most-reverent bow.
Some of them shed tears as a mixture of shame, awe and joy exploded in their hearts.
"Why?" The King asked, sensing the obvious change in the atmosphere, he appeared unimpressed by the very divine form he had assumed.
"We seek forgiveness from our Lord, to have even thought we did not matter to you is a sin worthy of death," Ishnal spoke, tears streaming down his face like a man who had lost his only son... yet his eyes were aflame with joy.
The king only furrowed his brows in contemplation. He limited himself to silence.
"Karai would have died to see this," the eldest lady commented. She rubbed her eyes dry of tears, whilst a wide grin stretched her aged features. "He'd have given anything…"
A smile appeared on the kings defined face at those words, and his eyes rose in memory of Lord Karai.
The death of his warlords wasn't a new experience to him. He had ruled Eistoriel for more than a thousand years, and had seen the death of hundreds of warlords. Only the year before, four had passed on due to old age.
Notwithstanding, the king recalled all his warlords faces, for he had loved them all. Each had been chosen by him, after all. Karai had been no different. He would simply be joining his predecessors in the King's memories.
"I will remember you all… for your service to me and my nation," the King suddenly announced, he had never told them this, but he had always intended to.
Needless to say, his declaration caused their hearts to leap in further joy and adoration.
"It is time for us to leave," the king finally said, and the temporary castle crumbled into nothingness.
He took down the barrier and allowed them to float in the sky. The winds were cool, and the earth seemed refreshed.
The sun was beginning to rise as if to commence the new dawn in Eistoriels history, one of the warlords noticed this and couldn't but comment on it.
"Even the heavens are aware of the wonder that's about to take place!" He exclaimed, voicing a laughter that originated from the depths of his gladdened soul. They all were.
The King himself stood and watched his subjects act like children under the joy only he could give them, he felt honored to even behold that scene. He etched into his heart.
"You really should have seen this, Karai," the king remarked inwardly, unable to hold back his smile.
He decided he'd watch his warlords for bit more, he didn't want to rush them. After all, there was no reason to rush.
Eventually they took note of his silence and turned to him, their faces shone, causing his heart to be further stirred.
The king wanted to speak when he realized that sound had vanished from his immediate environment. As though he had been cut out of it.
He felt dazed.
The phenomena was strange. He could see his warlords speak but could not hear them himself.
He furrowed his brows, as a result. Something felt… off. The air had grown still, too still.
The warlords noticed him again, but this time they saw the confusion on his face. Ishnal tried to come closer to the king—when it happened.
A tear appeared in the fabric of space behind the King, and although it had manifested instantly, the warlords swore they watched it unfold slowly.
The next event came like a flood...
BOOM!
The world BROKE.