Chapter 12: The Whole Armada Empire is in Flames! {Johan/Abellion's Flashback} (10)
Time, in the Blackwood Forest, was measured not by the ticking of a clock, but by the thickness of the calluses on one's hands and the changing of the monster migration patterns.
After a whole year, Abellion spent his time on doing his workout routine, and selling the woods he chop on the town of Theo.
Twelve months had passed since the Elven Princess Olivia had departed in a carriage, leaving Abellion alone once more in his solitary fortress. In that time, Abellion had not been idle. He had turned his survival into an industry. The Blackwood Forest was dangerous, yes, but it was also a treasure trove of resources that no ordinary woodcutter dared to touch. specifically, the Iron-Bark Pine.
This wood was as hard as steel, fire-resistant, and incredibly light. It was the material of choice for high-end furniture, ship hulls, and reinforcement for castle gates. It was also guarded by Dire Wolves and Razorback Bears.
Abellion, now seventeen, stood in the loading bay of a warehouse in the town of Theo. He was taller, broader in the shoulders, and exuded an aura of quiet, dangerous capability. He unloaded a massive cart of dark, metallic-looking logs as if they were made of balsa wood.
"Damn Abel i'm really glad you're my wood supplier, if it weren't for you my wood business won't be booming until this day."
The speaker was a portly, red-faced merchant named Garret. He ran his hand lovingly over the bark of the timber. In the capital, this load alone would sell for a small fortune. Garret wiped his greasy hands on his apron and pulled out a heavy velvet pouch.
The wood seller then gave 200 gold coins on Abel.
Two hundred gold. It was an exorbitant sum, enough to feed a common family for a decade. But for the risk involved in harvesting this wood, it was a fair price.
"Thank you," Abel thank the wood seller and nod. He tucked the pouch into his belt without counting it; he knew Garret wouldn't dare shortchange him. The merchant knew that 'Abel' was the only man who walked into the Blackwood and came out alive.
"Nah, i should be the one who should thank you, if it weren't for you sacrificing yourself on that damn cursed forest and get this type of wood, i would be in the streets right now begging money. Hahahahaha, truly i'm glad, see you soon Abel."
Garret laughed, a jovial sound that hid a sliver of fear. He respected Abel, but he also feared the boy's cold, purple eyes.
Abel nod and wave him as a gesture on farewell. He didn't linger for small talk. He pulled his hood up and walked out into the bustling streets of Theo.
Abellion didn't return to the forest immediately. He needed supplies—salt, spices, and new whetstones. But more importantly, he needed information. Being a hermit kept him safe from the plot, but it also left him blind to the world's movements.
He entered The Rusty Tankard, a local tavern filled with the noise of clinking glasses and the smell of roasted pork. He took a table in the corner, ordered a simple meal, and sharpened his hearing.
The tavern was the internet of this world. If something big was happening, the drunks would be shouting about it.
"Hey did you hear the Emperor issue an order," A random guy said it together to the other guy while drinking beer. He was a laborer, his face flushed with cheap ale.
"What order?" The other guy asks.
The laborer leaned in, slamming his mug down, sloshing liquid onto the table.
"He ordered that all elves will be eradicated! Insane right, i knew he should not be the Emperor, if it weren't for the Hero he would be 6 feet under now hahahahha."
Abellion froze mid-chew. The fork hovered halfway to his mouth.
'Eradicated? Already?'
His mind raced. In the original novel, the Genocide Edict wasn't supposed to happen until the beginning of the second arc, years from now. The timeline was accelerating. The butterfly effect of his existence—and perhaps his interaction with Olivia—was causing ripples he hadn't anticipated.
"I agree he's fucking useless as hell, and seriously what he is doing for the empire rather than sitting on his throne?" The other guy replied and agreed on what the guy said.
The sentiment in the countryside was clear. The Emperor, Augustus Le Armada V, was viewed as a tyrant at best and a parasite at worst.
"I dunno busy fucking his concubines?"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Both guys laughing together because of the joke.
Their laughter was cut short by a sharp, commanding voice.
"Hey you two."
A woman appeared infront of them. She wasn't an Imperial Knight, but a local militia captain, looking nervous.
"If an Imperial Knight hear you talking to the Emperor, you will be executed immediately!" she hissed, scanning the room for spies.
The laborer waved her off dismissively. "Meh, this is the countryside and also why would a damn Imperial Knight bother visiting here, like look they don't even successfully eradicated all of the monsters of that cursed forest and you talking me i would be executed not a chance lol."
He took a swig of his drink, emboldened by the alcohol. "Also i could kill those Imperial Knights for breakfast because they were even killed by a damn low goblin."
It was hyperbole, of course, but it spoke to the utter lack of respect the common folk had for the Emperor's personal army. They saw them as bullies in shiny armor, useless against real threats.
"Yeah i agree man, those Imperial Soldiers are useless as shit if it weren't for the Hero and the Saintess and the chosen new Hero. What's his name again?" The other guy replied and ask because he forgot the name of the new chosen Hero.
Abellion gripped his fork tighter. He knew the name they were groping for.
"Ahh you mean the adopted child of the Hero and the Saintess?"
"Yeah."
"As far as i remember it's Yulen, Yulen Carnation."
Hearing the name of the protagonist sent a strange jolt through Abellion. Yulen, the brother he had left behind, the Regressor who was stealing the spotlight—or rather, rightfully earning it.
"Yeah, yeah that guy! If it weren't for that guy the Crown Prince would be killed by an enemy from a neighboring kingdom they successfully conquered recently."
The gossip continued, painting a picture of the current political landscape. Yulen was rising. The Hero was holding the Empire together. And the Emperor was descending into madness.
"Yeah, if it were for me, the Hero and his family should be the Royal family not those weakass frauds hahahahaha." The guy continue to drink his beer.
"GULP! GULP! Yeah i agree too fucking useless bunch and now that damn useless Emperor issue an order to eradicate the elves?! He should keep dreaming hahahahahaha!"
While the drunks laughed, Abellion felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. To them, the order to kill Elves was a joke, an impossible decree given the Elves' magical power and isolation. But Abellion knew better. He knew the Emperor possessed dark artifacts. He knew about the Shadow Legion. And he knew about the poison that had almost killed Olivia a year ago.
'It seems it was this day the Emperor, one of the major villains of the novel, issue an order.'
Abellion finished his meal, his appetite gone. He thought of Olivia. He thought of her green eyes, her haughty laugh, and the vulnerability she had shown him. If this order went through, her kingdom would burn. She would be forced onto the path of the Avenger—the very path he had hoped she would avoid.
'Sigh should i warn Olivia? But i don't know where the kingdom of elves is.' Abellion sighed, he wanted to warn Olivia but he doesn't know the passage through the kingdom of Ymiria.
The Elven Kingdom was hidden behind powerful illusions. Without a guide or a magical key, he would wander the continent for years and never find it. He was helpless to stop the gears of fate from turning.
'Let's just go back.'
He stood up, left a coin on the table, and walked out of the tavern. The flames of war were kindling, and all he could do was retreat to his forest and sharpen his spear.
---
The scene shifted thousands of miles away, to the heart of the Empire's capital. The Von Nazaric Mansion stood as a beacon of order and light, but inside, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Meanwhile in the Mansion of the Von Nazaric, Abrellios scratching his and then.
-SMASH!
The sound of a heavy oak desk splintering echoed through the study. Abrellios, the Hero of the Empire, stood panting, his fist buried in the ruin of his own furniture. His legendary patience had finally snapped.
"Is that Emperor insane?!" he roared, his voice shaking the stained-glass windows.
"He order to eradicate the elves for what?!"
Lutiana, the Saintess, sat on a nearby sofa, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She looked pale, her divine aura dimmed by distress.
"I don't know my dear, seriously i was questioning the holy church too for agreeing that order." Lutiana replied with worry.
This was the crux of the horror. The Emperor was a tyrant, yes, but the Holy Church? The institution meant to guide the moral compass of humanity? They had stamped the decree with the Seal of Light.
Abrellios and Lutiana have a good relationship with kingdom of Ymiria. They had fought alongside King Eberin during the Great War. They were friends. Allies. And now, they were being ordered to slaughter them.
Abrellios turned to his wife, his purple eyes blazing. "It's because your Holy Church is corrupt, you already know that Lutiana!"
"They are not corrupt, they must be just confused, right confused," she stammered, trying to reconcile her faith with reality.
"Confused?! Wake up Lutiana! I bet they're the reason why that damn Emperor issue an order, and if we don't do anything the whole race of elves will be eradicated including my friend King Eberin De La Ymiria!"
Abrellios paced the room, kicking aside debris. He was a man of action, but he was bound by chains of duty. If he defied the Emperor, he defied the Empire he swore to protect. If he defied the Church, he made his wife a heretic.
Lutiana can't replied back, she knew as a saintess this should not happen because the Armada Empire, the Holy Church and the Kingdom of Ymiria have a good relationship for decades.
It didn't make sense. Why now? Why so sudden? There had been no aggression from the Elves. There was no border dispute. It was a purge born of pure malice.
But what is she confused is why the Emperor issue an order to eradicate all the elves and the Holy Church didn't even stop it.
A horrifying realization dawned on her. She looked up at her husband, her eyes wide with terror.
"Don't tell me!"
"Is it because the Prophetess saw a prophecy?!" Lutiana look on Abrellios.
The Royal Prophetess. A woman whose visions were absolute law. If she saw a future where the Elves destroyed the Empire, the Emperor would act pre-emptively.
Then Abrellios final realized the Prophetess saw a prophecy that might involve the elves.
He stopped pacing. The anger drained out of him, replaced by a heavy, crushing exhaustion. Fighting a tyrant was one thing; fighting destiny was another.
Abrellios sat back on his chair and then he look on the ceiling of the office room.
"Sigh."
"Just what should we do Lutiana."
He sounded defeated. The strongest man in the world, rendered powerless by a piece of paper and a whisper of the future.
Lutiana then walk to Abrellios and hug him in his back. She rested her cheek against his broad shoulders, offering the only comfort she had.
"I don't know my dear, let's just pray the Emperor will change his mind."
'Sigh, Eberin, i really don't know what to do!' Abrellios thought of his old elven friend, unaware that the countdown to his death had already begun.
Abrellios knew if he try to do anything to change the prophecy and save all the elves, it will be worse. Or so he told himself. It was the logic of a soldier following orders, the logic that would eventually lead to his doom.
---
The narrator's voice cut through the scene, ominous and all-knowing.
But what Abrellios and the Emperor didn't know, is that the order to eradicate the elves because of a fake prophecy.
The tragedy was absolute. The Prophetess had not seen a true future; she had been manipulated. A vision planted by dark forces, twisted to look like truth.
Which also the Prophetess didn't know but she will be late to tell when she finally realize on what mistake she had done, and will be the bridge of the awakening of a far more worse of the prophecy.
By trying to prevent a minor calamity, they were unlocking the cage of the ultimate apocalypse. The genocide of the Elves would disturb the mana balance of the world. It would weaken the ancient seals that the Elven High Mages maintained in the deep roots of Yggdrasil.
The Prophecy of the Black Dread Dragon and the Dark Lord of End.
The fake prophecy will be the reason of many deaths and lastly the destruction of both the Empire and the whole world.
The Emperor was lighting a match to find his way in the dark, unaware he was standing in a room full of gunpowder.
---
The perspective shifted violently, moving away from the towns, the forests, and the palaces of men. It moved beyond the physical realm entirely, diving into the space between dimensions—the Abyssal Void.
Here, there was no light, no sound, no time. There was only the cold, crushing weight of nothingness. And in the center of that nothingness, something moved.
Meanwhile in the void a 35,000 feet dragon was chained on his feet and his whole body.
Ancalagon. The Black Dread.
He was not merely a beast; he was a geography. His scales were mountain ranges of obsidian. His wings, folded tight against his back, were vast enough to blot out the sun of entire continents. He floated in the nothingness, bound by chains made of pure, concentrated starlight—magical bindings forged by the Goddess of Light herself eons ago.
For thousands of years, he had been a statue. A monument to a forgotten war.
And then the dragon opened his eyes.
It was like a binary star system igniting. Two burning, vertical slits of molten amber cut through the eternal darkness of the void. The sheer pressure of his awakening sent shockwaves through the fabric of reality.
"Finally, i will be unsealed here!"
His voice was not a sound; it was a psychic tectonic shift. It resonated in the minds of sensitive mages across the world, causing nosebleeds and fainting spells thousands of miles away.
The chains of light, weakened by the shifting balance of the world—the impending death of the Elves, the corruption of the Church, the rise of the Dark Lord—began to flicker.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
The laughter was terrifying. It was the sound of mountains crumbling, of oceans boiling.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
He flexed a single claw, a movement that would have leveled a city. A link in the chain snapped.
"Goddess of Light!"
He screamed the name of his jailer, the deity humanity worshipped. To him, she was not a savior, but a tyrant.
"BE READY, TO FACE MY WRATH!!!!!!!!"
The void trembled. The seals were not just breaking physically; they were breaking conceptually. The despair of the world was feeding him. The flames of the Armada Empire were his fuel.
"I could feel it, the impending end of the World you created."
He sensed the chaos. He tasted the blood that was about to be spilled in the Elven lands. It was a sweet nectar to his starving soul.
"I, Ancalagon The Black Dread Dragon of End, will have!"
He pulled against his restraints, and for the first time in an era, the light gave way to the darkness. The chains shattered into dust.
The dragon's amber eye silhouette into the void replacing the color on black to amber.
The darkness of the void was consumed by the fiery hate of his gaze. He was awake. He was free. And he was hungry.
"MY REVENGE!!!!!!"