There once was a king, a righteous one, feared yet loved by his subjects, but ostracized by those around him.
Why he is hated? It all started after the civil war, when he rose in power. He made many decree that were 'questionable', the content is so severe to those who he deemed unnecessary. Because of that many nobles are cut down in the kingdom, of course excluding his trusted comrade in arms.
The kingdom used to be ruled by many heads, now they all bowed down to him. But, not all consent to the idea of their family stripped of their status, and so there were spark of rebellion against him.
He refused to be ridiculed by his now former subordinates and stand tall on his throne and declared.
"Those who defied the throne, shall bear the weight of their own chains. But, those who stayed by the throne? They shall find that Rividia rewards loyalty above bloodline. Your originis does not matter. Your conviction does."
This sparks another controversy among citizens and nobles alike, could they became wealthy and have a higher status than they were before if they capture the rebellious family? Or is it just an empty words so The King can enjoy his newly acquired status without worrying of another civil war.
Alas, after a grueling one month of struggle from the opposing factions, they were presented at the gallows in front of hundred thousands of people.
"My people," The king began, his voice calm, almost tires. He looked out over the masses.
"The throne does not forget a debt, nor does it break a promise. Before we cleanse the rot of treason, we must honor the fruit of loyalty."
The King descended the stone steps, his heavy boots clicking against the marble. He draws out his sword. He stopped before a man standing at the front of the gallows, already on one of his knees, presenting himself towards The King.
"Sir Leyhwin Rodwell of the North," The King's voice rang out. He tapped the flat of his blade against the man's shoulder. "For your service in rooting out the vipers in our midst, I hereby grant you the administration of the Northern Marches and the title of Count."
The crowd fell into a suffocating silence. A common knight had just been handed the keys to the North.
The King didn't wait for the cheers. He turned towards a figure kneeling at the gallows, a ragged hood covering their face, a hangman's rope already looped loosely around their neck.
Before a single prayer could be uttered, The King's movement became a blur. With a deadly precision that spoke of his genius-level and experience for combat, he lunged. The blade pierced the hooded person chest, dead center.
The silence that followed was absolute. Not even the wind dared to blow.
"I, Yvenius Laurent II, the Throne of Rividia, hereby revoked the Valeska lineage," the King said, pulling his sword back with a wet shiver of steel. He flicked the blade, sending a trail of blood onto the white stone, cleaning it in a single motion. "Their privileges are extinguished. Their land are now the property of Count Rodwell."
He looked over his shoulder at the crowd, his gaze were heavy. "Let it be etched into your minds, whoever challenges the sovereignty of this throne will find only an end. But those who serve will find a future."
"Let the ceremony continue," he continued walking towards the remaining three attendees waiting for their turn to be blessed by the King.
That day became the bedrock of the new Rividia. To the people, it was the Day of Ascension, a day to pray for the King who had brought order.