Chapter 23 The Oath of the Forsaken Banner
The world returned in a slow tremble.
Rian opened his eyes beneath the gray morning sky, the lingering fragments of his past life still echoing like distant thunder. His pulse was steady but heavy — as if the weight of an entire forgotten empire rested in his veins.
The dream had shown him the truth:
He had once stood above galaxies.
He had once commanded legions.
He had once been bowed to by billions.
And now…
He walked as a mortal boy with no title, no army, no throne — yet a destiny that refused to stay buried.
Rian exhaled, letting the cold wind wash over him.
"Goldian…" he whispered. "My empire…"
The name alone shook his soul.
---
The Scarred Travelers
He resumed his journey along the cracked stone path that stretched across the forest's edge. Leaves rustled with each step, and the world felt too quiet — unnaturally quiet.
Then he sensed it.
Breaths.
Shuffling feet.
A presence too familiar.
Rian stopped.
From between the twisted roots of an ancient tree, four silhouettes emerged — cloaked, battered, carrying scars that told stories longer than their lives.
They knelt.
Not one.
Not two.
All four.
Their heads bowed deeply, foreheads pressed to the dirt.
"Your Majesty…" the one in front said, voice trembling. "At last… we've found you."
Rian froze.
The words pierced him harder than any blade.
He remembered them — vaguely, like seeing faces through shattered glass.
Captain Vex: The dual-blade warrior who once guarded the Imperial Throne Hall.
Lynoa: The silent strategist whose mind won wars before they began.
Torrin: A spear-wielder capable of splitting a meteor.
Rhal: A former assassin who took an oath never to betray the emperor.
They looked older now. Weaker.
As if the centuries of wandering had drained color from their very souls.
Rian spoke quietly, "Why… why are you kneeling?"
Vex raised his head, tears gathering in his eyes.
"We knelt because you returned. Because the Golden Emperor cannot die — only sleep."
Torrin slammed his spear into the ground.
"The empire fell only because you vanished. And now that you have returned, we—"
His voice broke.
"—we will rebuild Goldian even if it costs our lives."
Rian's heart shook.
They had searched for him.
Across dimensions.
Across lifetimes.
Across ruin and time itself.
"Get up," Rian said softly.
No one moved.
"Get up," he repeated — but this time, his voice carried the command of an emperor.
Power rippled.
The ground itself vibrated.
The four rose slowly, staring at him with reverence and fear.
"Your Majesty," Lynoa whispered, "your aura… it's awakening."
Rian clenched his fist.
So it was happening — the memories, the power, the authority.
Piece by piece.
---
The Forsaken Banner
Vex removed a black cloth tied around his waist.
He knelt once more and unfolded it.
A damaged, torn banner.
But even ruined, it radiated an unfading brilliance — golden threads woven with extinguished starlight.
Rian's breath stopped.
The Goldian Imperial Banner.
The symbol of a lost empire.
The banner fluttered weakly in the breeze, as if calling his name.
"Your Majesty," Vex said, lowering his head, "we carried this through wars, through endless voids, through the collapse of worlds."
"We waited for the day you'd awaken again."
Torrin stepped forward and raised three fingers.
"We, the last of your surviving commanders, swear an oath."
Lynoa continued:
"Where you walk, we walk."
"Where you fight, we shed blood."
"Where you fall, we fall."
"And where you rise—"
Rhal whispered, voice sharp as a blade:
"—the empire rises again."
All four pressed their hands to their hearts.
"We serve the Golden Emperor until the stars die!"
Rian felt his chest tighten.
Memories flashed — soldiers chanting his name under twin moons, planets kneeling in silence, his throne forged from cosmic marble, and his voice echoing across galaxies.
He swallowed hard.
"I… am not that emperor anymore."
"Not yet," Lynoa said.
"Not completely," Torrin added.
"But you will be," Vex whispered. "And when you do, the universe will tremble again."
---
The Awakening Mark
Rhal approached and bowed.
"There's one more thing, Your Majesty. When you fell in the Last Collapse… your power scattered. But fragments remain."
He lifted his sleeve, revealing a glowing mark — a sun-shaped sigil, dim yet pulsing.
Rian felt his own palm burn.
He looked down.
There — faint but visible — the same mark was awakening on his skin.
The Mark of the Eternal Monarch.
His past life's core.
Rian inhaled sharply as a surge of energy ran through his arm.
A whisper echoed in his mind:
"One percent… two percent… three percent recovered…"
His vision blurred momentarily.
Then cleared.
His senses sharpened.
The world brightened.
His pulse steadied with unnatural rhythm.
The four commanders saw it — and their eyes widened.
"Your Majesty… your awakening has begun."
---
The Step Toward Dominion
Rian looked at the four kneeling figures, the tattered banner, and the ancient mark on his hand.
He felt fear.
He felt power.
But above all—
He felt destiny tugging at him.
He spoke, voice deep and steady:
"Raise the banner."
Vex held it high, and even torn, it looked majestic.
Rian continued:
"From this moment onward… you are not wanderers."
"You are not survivors."
"You are not broken warriors."
"You are the first pillars of our return."
The wind roared behind him.
Leaves spiraled upward like golden embers.
"We walk toward Goldian," Rian declared.
"And we rebuild—"
his eyes narrowed,
"—not in memory, but in power."
The four bowed deeply.
"As you command… Your Majesty."
Rian turned away, cloak fluttering, aura shaking the air around him.
The first step toward empire had begun.
To be continued