Across Eternity Bk 06 Ch 15

Resistance

Galvin woke up the way he always did, with a smug sense of satisfaction. Many days had passed since Knight's Day, and he was enjoying being king. Rather, he enjoyed the perks and ignored the responsibilities. His father would get up early to meet with delegates and discuss the day's business, but Galvin left them to their busywork while he slept in. Why would he waste his invaluable time on such petty issues as sanitation and the budget? It was their job to deal with menial tasks. Upon waking, his maids would dress him, all of them sporting bruises and solemn looks from suffering his repeated sexual abuse. He went through them quickly, usually killing them in bed. He'd demand a feast be prepared for breakfast, and if he was made to wait, someone would suffer for it. He'd eat his fill and have the rest disposed of.

Normally, all paperwork and responsibilities were shoved onto others, but today, he had business he wanted to tend to personally. It was a meeting with several high members of the church as part of Ziradith's initiative to bring them back to the fold. The clergymen, once wearing the finest robes and jewelry, were now garbed in much more modest attire. Due to their financial troubles following the purge and losses during the tournament, they had to sell off many of their assets. However, they were in good spirits, for soon, all would be right with the world.

"Your Majesty, it is so good to finally be able to speak to you face-to-face," said Cardinal Phelps with a politician's smile. "All this correspondence via messenger birds makes it so hard to have a proper conversation."

"Yes, it's been a long time since we've spoken," said Galvin. "With this, we can finally get things back to normal and reunite the kingdom and church."

"It is a shame you're the only remaining member of the royal family. It must be lonesome without your father and brothers."

"Unfortunately, I'm too busy to mourn Lupin's death or regret Seraph's betrayal. All that matters at the moment is winning this holy war against the Profane and purging our blessed nation of heathens."

"I couldn't have said it better myself. We are ready to pledge our allegiance to Uther and work together to bring salvation to its people."

"And can I count on your loyal subordination?" Galvin asked, his lips curling back into a foreboding smile.

"Of course, Your Majesty. The church and the kingdom must always walk hand-in-hand."

"Ah, see, there's the problem. Hand-in-hand implies equality, but that's not what this is. You are here to serve me, for I am more than just your king. I have been chosen by the gods to protect this nation. I am their champion, their messiah, their living incarnation, and I expect you to respect me as one."

The cardinals and priests looked at each other, hoping he was kidding, while Phelps lost his smile. "Your Majesty, while it is true that the device on your arm lets you call forth the Wassengel, I'm afraid that alone does not match the criteria for the... position you seek."

"Yet it was enough for my brother, wasn't it? The so-called 'Light's Emissary?' I remember all of your little meetings with my mother, asking for her help getting closer to Seraph so you could groom him to lead your church. More than the church, you wanted him to rule the nation as the living embodiment of divine will, speaking on behalf of the gods to lead Uther into a better future. You never showed that interest in me, though. Ironic, isn't it, that he's lost his divine powers while I've gained my own?"

Galvin got up and began walking around the table.

"Even now, he is still so beloved that you're working with the Wandering Spirit to help Seraph regain his powers while I was recovering from him trying to kill me. After he left, no one seemed to know where he had gone. It was all kept secret until I found out that you were involved, yet you decided not to tell me. Forgive my suspicions, but it almost seems like you want to use him to usurp my throne."

"Please, Your Majesty," Cardinal Phelps began as Galvin approached, "you misunderstand. We only wanted to restore Prince Seraph's powers so that he could use his might to vanquish the Profane. The throne is, and always was, yours."

"So you admit to aiding him after he directly contradicted me regarding the beastmen, doing all this under my nose? You couldn't wait until I had awoken and seek my approval? It almost seems like you would go through with this whether you had it or not. Do you know what I think about this?" Galvin leaned close to Phelps, who was trying to maintain a brave face. "I think you're a fucking rat."

He then grabbed a letter opener off the table and began frantically stabbing Phelps in the face. Blood sprayed as the wounds grew in number each second, with Galvin laughing like a madman. The small, dull blade could not pierce his skull, but that's what Galvin intended. He didn't want Phelps to die in the first puncture; he wanted him to suffer. The other cardinals and clergy members jumped out of their chairs at the sight, with Phelps trying to shield himself, only for his hands and arms to get stabbed over and over again. Even after Phelps passed on, his face unrecognizable, Galvin continued stabbing him with manic glee, and even spat on him and beat the corpse with his fists. The church leaders could only watch in horror, fearful that they were next. Finally, he stopped and stepped aside to wipe the blood from his face.

"This feels like the perfect time to let the rest of you know I've made some changes. I've decided to bring back a loyal and powerful ally as Royal Executioner." Galvin snapped his fingers, and the doors opened. Gradius stepping in, nearly breaking the floor tiles under his monstrous weight. "Gradius, to welcome you back to your old position, I have a task for you. One of these men will be the new leader of the church. It doesn't matter which one, so I'll leave the selection up to you. As for the rest, well, I'm sure you know what to do."

Gradius brandished his axe. "With pleasure, Your Majesty."

As Galvin turned to leave, the other church leaders began begging for mercy and forgiveness, but he didn't so much as spare a second glance, and once the doors were shut behind him, the slaughter began. Galvin returned to the throne room, where Tarnas was waiting for him.

"Where's Berholm?" he growled.

"How should I know? The treacherous rat tried to kill me and then scampered off, fleeing into exile. Fortunately, I've filled the position with a better candidate, one who is actually loyal to king and country."

"And I'm supposed to believe you? Mark my words, boy. If you've done anything to--"

"I am your king! You don't threaten me! You don't say no! If I declare something, it is always right, and anyone who disagrees gets punished! That's what this crown means and, more importantly, what this manacle on my arm means. After all, I'm the only one who can awaken the Wassengel, or stop it once it is awake." The threat was not lost on Tarnas. Just like Ziradith, Galvin was holding the city hostage. If he died or was robbed of the manacle, the Wassengel would rise up and obliterate Colbrand.

"You think the world will bow to your whims that easily? You can simply rewrite reality whenever it's convenient to you?"

Galvin laughed. "Didn't I just finish explaining that? Don't make me repeat myself. Listen, this is how it works: I am a king and you are a pawn. If I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to believe something, you believe it. You are here to serve ME, not the people, not the country, me and me alone."

"Do not mistake me for some jittery young soldier or grinning sycophant! I act in the best interest of the country, of the world! I obeyed the previous king because I respected him and wanted to protect this country from evil. The only difference between then and now is that I have no respect for the king before me."

Galvin gave a smug laugh. "Then you're nothing more than a traitor, abandoning your oaths the second they get in the way."

"As if you've ever kept a promise in your life," Tarnas grunted.

Galvin sneered in response. "Adwith Tarnas, the legendary Light's Emissary, nothing more than a disloyal rabble-rouser coddling the beasts he should be killing, disbarred from the knighthood for abandoning his duties. Your name will be mud."

"I don't care about my name. All I care about is protecting the people of this country. If I must discard my title, my honor, and my knighthood to do it, then I will."

"I know you will; it makes you predictable." Galvin picked up a scroll beside the throne and tossed it at Tarnas. "That's a report I received earlier this morning. A small army of fiends made it past the garrison line and entered the country, scattering to spread havoc. Their numbers are unknown, but what is known is the death and destruction they'll bring upon the land unless, of course, you go and stop them."

Tarnas read through the report. "I trust the knights and military to handle it. I'm needed here, putting out your fires and cleaning up your bloody mess."

"No, you're needed where people are being slaughtered and evil roams free. Isn't that your noble calling? Do you really think some average soldiers can hunt down and kill those monstrosities? They're going to get massacred without you, and you know it, meaning every death that happens will be your fault. Your fellow troops, your comrades, they're going to die cursing your name because you refused to help them.

See, that's the great thing about your stubbornness and disloyalty. You can threaten to resign all you want, maybe even go through with it, but you're still a slave to silly morals. Whether you're a knight or commoner, I can still depend on you to fight the Profane for me. So what's it going to be, old man? Are you going to stand around here, guarding some godless invaders from the citizens you're sworn to protect? Or are you going to go fight against the Profane and defend the true sons and daughters of Uther?"

"And I don't suppose that these fiends managed to sneak past the garrison using information from a certain spy here in Colbrand? All to get me out of the city?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. This place is full of traitors and turncoats. In fact, there is one standing right in front of me."

"Galvin, listen to me. Stop this madness before it's too late. Nothing good can come of this. There is still time to turn things around."

"I thought I made it clear that you don't have a say in what I do. Now get the fuck out of my castle and do your goddamn job."

Tarnas sighed in resignation and disgust, shook his head, and left the throne room. With him gone, Galvin decided to pay Ziradith a visit. Every day, even multiple times, he would go to her room where she was kept under house arrest and resume the abuse. Again and again, he raped her in each orifice, using every humiliating position and act he could think up. He even brought tools to increase her suffering, whether it was dripping hot wax on her tits or caning her ass until it was crisscrossed with welts. He'd experiment by inserting various objects inside her, acting out every sick fantasy. Ziradith did her best to endure, but Galvin's maliciousness and depravity were unmatched. He took joy in her suffering, in the sadistic taboo he was inflicting on her, leaving no part of his mother's body unviolated.

"Just hurry up and finish!" she'd shout as he'd thrust back and forth inside her, willing to accept yet another frothy creampie from her son if it meant he'd finally pull out and give her ass a reprieve. Yet, despite her misery, she was too proud to give in and take the easy way out. All she had to do was endure and wait, and eventually, the status quo would change, and she'd have more options.

After indulging in the seven sins, he would visit the arena. There, the citizens of Colbrand could indulge their thirst for violence. Unlike the fighting tournament, there was an admittance fee, but it was helping to pay for the continuous spectacle. Here, slaves and pursuers of fame were pitted against monsters and each other, with the crowds cheering as blood was spilled and lives were lost. Much like the gladiatorial era of ancient Rome, the arena displayed different forms of combat, from one-on-one matches to chariot fights. Magic would even be used to flood the ring for mock naval battles, with many warriors drowning in their heavy armor.

The day would always end the same way, with Galvin addressing the crowd with a speech, preaching loyalty and subservience to the kingdom, and violence and condemnation to beastmen, the Profane, and all who dared to criticize him. The citizens ate it all up, nourishing their fear and hatred with his nationalism. Out in the streets, beastman hatred was at an all-time high, and every step outside was a fatal risk. Adwith Tarnas and other sympathetic knights were making sure that no anti-beastman riots or lynch mobs were able to form, but they couldn't be everywhere at once, and in their blind spots, individual acts of hatred and violence were propagated by citizens and condoned by Galvin's loyal followers.

Meanwhile, at the Knight's Sheath, many regular customers had forsaken the joint, wrapped up in Galvin's anti-beastman vitriol, though there were plenty of new customers each evening. If anything, the girls had never received so many overnight guests. The fact that the Knight's Sheath could still operate was a blessing. If not for Tarnas, Aithorn, and Elyot, everyone inside would have been rounded up and thrown in the dungeon. Because of the protection of the three knights', the establishment was treated much in the same way as an embassy. None of the knights in the Loyalist faction dared cause trouble because they knew that if they drew blood, their own would be spilled. However, today was the exception, with Sir Rall stopping by with a royal decree and a smirk.

"As per His Majesty's newest law, all unwholesome magic is hereby illegal in Uther. Elemental, monk, and warrior are allowed, but everything else is now a criminal act. Those found in violation of this ordinance will be arrested and have their homes and assets seized."

"Spare me your nonsense," Cyrilo fired back. "This is just Galvin's way of criminalizing beastmen."

"I am the Royal Adjudicator, and you will give me the respect I'm due if you don't want to start bleeding from that smart mouth of yours. Besides, it's not just beastmen. The next time your little songbird tries to brainwash the loyal citizens of Colbrand with his dark magic, his head will end up on the chopping block. You have until tomorrow morning to cease all illegal magic, you and your customers, or we will rip this place apart, snapping every nail and shattering every brick, and you will all be in chains. I will personally cut those cat ears off your head with a pair of shears. Have a nice evening."

He left as smugly as he arrived, with Cyrilo going into her study and reading through the edict.

"They can't really do this, can they?" Sophia asked, following her.

"Galvin's the king; he can do whatever he wants, anything his demented little brain can think up," Cyrilo muttered before crumpling up the parchment and tossing it aside.

"What's going on?" The question came from Noah, talking through his clone projected from the harkonen gem. This was when he would usually check in at the Knight's Sheath and make sure the two gems were still in range of each other. It was working well, but he could feel the signal weakening with each passing day. He was yet unaware of his approaching encounter with the leader of the Profane.

"Galvin just made all magic besides elemental, monk, and warrior illegal. Daniel, me, and just about every beastman and arcane magic user have been officially declared criminals."

"What are you going to do? You need shamanism in order to counteract your aging hex, right?" Alexis asked.

"Yes, but it's not just me I'm worried about. Rall specifically mentioned Daniel. They want to silence him because he's one of our best defenses against attack."

"A man who can pacify an angry mob is a fear-monger's worst enemy," said Noah.

"So what do we do? We're still under the protection of Tarnas and the others, right?" Sophia asked.

"Tarnas is gone," said Aithorn, standing in the doorway.

"Sir Aithorn, when did you get here?" Cyrilo asked.

"I'm never far off. Keeping a watchful eye on this place is my only real job now. Besides, there is little point in calling me Sir anymore. Most of my authority as a knight has been stripped away, the only remnant being that Galvin and his followers dare not arrest me."

"To us, you'll always be the valiant knight who fought on this very floor and stood up for us when the barbarians were waiting at the gates. You remain the example of what a knight should be," said Cyrilo.

"Thank you, Madam. As I was saying, Tarnas had to leave. Apparently, a swarm of Profane crossed the border and has been wreaking havoc, and he's the only one who can stop it. He set off to wipe them out."

"Galvin probably gave the Profane the info on how to sneak in just so Tarnas could be lured away," said Noah.

"That was Tarnas's assumption as well, but the threat is real, I read the report myself. Like it or not, he is needed badly up north. At the very least, the afflicted area is far from where you're headed."

"With Tarnas gone, the riots and mobs will start again. They'll come for us whether or not we follow the law," said Sophia worriedly.

"Sir Elyot and I will still help protect this place and the other beastmen in the city. No matter what weight the king tries to throw around, not even he would be foolish enough to instigate a fight between gold-rank knights in the city streets."

"It's not about being foolish," said Noah. "Galvin would welcome the damage and casualties, using it to justify even harder crackdowns. He wants you to fight back so he can paint you as enemies of the state."

"Then what do we do?" Sophia asked.

"I suppose Daniel will just have to stop playing, and Cyrilo and all the other beastmen in the Knight's Sheath will have to retract their animal features and assume a fully human form. I know it goes against shamanist teachings, but that's the price of survival," said Noah. "If that doesn't work, I'll do what I can to help."

"How can you help? You're just a specter," said Cyrilo.

"I may not be able to throw a punch, but I still have some influence. If and when things go wrong, signal me through the harkonen gem, and I'll step in."

Lucius then entered Cyrilo's study. "We got a situation out here. You might want to take a look."

They all entered the foyer, where a customer sobbing at a courtesan's feet. "Please, I swear! I'll pay you the money as soon as I can! Just please let me stay!"

"What's going on here?" Cyrilo asked.

"This man refuses to leave, and he's not the only one," the courtesan said. Looking around, Cyrilo and the others noticed the looks of fear and despair on countless men's faces. They also noticed something else.

"Most of you are from Handent," she muttered.

True, none of them were revealing their animal traits, but they all bore the ethnic characteristics of their northern blood. And it wasn't just men. Plenty of women were trying to cover themselves and blend in. There were also local beastmen mixed into the crowd, wearing the same look of fear and hopelessness.

"Please, don't send me out there! It's a death sentence to be out on the streets with my face!" the man sobbed.

"Did you all come here to hide?" Sophia asked, drawing mournful nods from everyone.

"We fled from the Profane that destroyed our homes and ravaged our lands. Many of us were caught trying to get into Uther, arrested by soldiers to be slaves or worse," one woman said, unable to make eye contact. "In the countryside and villages, people like us are hunted for sport. They'll capture us, bind our magic, keep us in cages, and then release us so they can chase us down with dogs and horses. The men are killed and skinned like animals, while the women are raped and released so they can be hunted again. I was... caught... several times before I managed to slip away. But we heard of the Knight's Sheath, a place where people like us are welcome, where we'd be safe."