Hiroshi stood atop the main gatehouse, hands on his hips, critically surveying the city entrance.
"It's not... popping enough," he muttered.
General Marcus, standing a respectable two steps behind him, leaned over the battlements.
"Popping, Majesty?" Marcus asked, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Do you wish for us to pop the heads of the prisoners on pikes along the road? A traditional greeting for lesser kings."
"No!" Hiroshi rubbed his temples. "I mean the color. It's drab. Grey stone, black iron... it screams 'Evil Overlord.' We need something vibrant. Something that says, 'Welcome! We are passionate hosts!'"
Hiroshi pointed to the main avenue stretching from the gate to the palace.
"I want a carpet," Hiroshi commanded. "A long one. Red. The reddest red you can find. It should cover the entire street so their boots never touch the dirt."
Marcus's eyes widened. He pulled out a small notebook and scribbled furiously.
"A river of red..." Marcus whispered, awe trembling in his voice. "To cover the street... to ensure they walk upon a symbol of... flow."
"Exactly," Hiroshi nodded, distracted by a gargoyle that looked too scary. "And banners. Everywhere. Big, bold letters. 'WELCOME COALITION' and 'UNITY FOREVER'."
"Unity," Marcus repeated, underlining the word three times. "Absolute assimilation."
"And the greeting party," Hiroshi continued, turning to Gix, who was currently calculating the budget on an abacus made of knuckle-bones. "Gix, do we have funds for flowers?"
"The Merchant Guilds have donated their entire spring inventory, Your Terror," Gix squeaked. "They insist. They said, 'Please take the roses, just don't burn our shops.'"
"See?" Hiroshi smiled. "Community spirit. I want flower petals raining from the walls when the Kings arrive. I want it to look like a storm of beauty."
Marcus looked at General Elara. Elara looked at Marcus.
"A storm," Elara whispered. "He wants to block their vision with debris while we surround them."
"Genius," Marcus agreed.
Three Hours Later.
The Coalition Army crested the hill overlooking the Imperial Capital.
It was a magnificent force. The Heavy Cavalry of the West, the Dwarven Iron-Breakers, and the Elven Skirmishers. Fifty thousand strong. They had come to die fighting the darkness.
King Alaric pulled his horse to a halt. He raised his telescope.
His breath caught in his throat.
"By the Gods," Alaric whispered.
"What is it?" Lord Thrain asked, hefting his axe. "Are the walls manned? Do they have siege engines?"
"Worse," Alaric lowered the telescope, his face pale as milk. "They have... painted the city."
Through the lens, the capital of the United Empire looked like the inside of a fresh wound.
Long, vertical banners draped every tower. They were red. Not a cheerful crimson, but a deep, visceral arterial red. The slogans, written in the Empire's jagged High Gothic script, seemed to bleed down the masonry.
UNITY OR NOTHING(It meant 'Unity Forever' but the font was bad)
SUBMIT TO THE FUN(Hiroshi meant 'Enjoy the Games')
And the street...
Alaric handed the telescope to Thrain. The dwarf looked. He gagged.
"That road," Thrain choked out. "It glistens. Is that... is that liquid?"
"It is the Red Path," Alaric said grimly. "Legend says Varek once slaughtered a million men to pave a road for his horse. I thought it was a myth. It appears he has recreated it for us."
Suddenly, a loud THUMP-THUMP-THUMP echoed from the city walls.
Projectiles shot into the sky.
"INCOMING!" the Elven Matriarch screamed, raising a magical shield.
The projectiles exploded overhead.
POP! CRACKLE! BOOM!
Sparks of red and purple fire rained down. It was fireworks. Or, as the Empire's engineers called them, "Gunpowder Charges with Glitter Shrapnel."
To Hiroshi, it was a celebration. To the Coalition, it looked like an anti-air flak barrage designed to blind their aerial units.
"He mocks us," Alaric gritted his teeth, watching the red sparks burn holes in the nearby grass. "He uses high-tier explosives just for lighting."
"We must turn back," a minor lord whimpered. "This is madness. We cannot siege a city that attacks the sky itself!"
"NO!" Alaric drew his sword. The sound of steel was swallowed by the booming 'fireworks.'
"We are the shield of the world!" Alaric roared, though his voice cracked slightly. "If we run, the Red Path will follow us to our homes! We march! For the West!"
"FOR THE WEST!" the army shouted back, though it sounded more like a plea than a war cry.
The City Gates.
Hiroshi checked his reflection in a polished shield.
He was wearing his "Formal Attire." He had asked for something "Regal but approachable."
The servants had dressed him in the Black Armor of the Abyssal King. It had spikes on the shoulders. The cape was made from the hide of a Shadow Beast. And on his head, instead of a light circlet, sat the Crown of Thorns, which glowed with a faint, menacing hum.
"I feel overdressed," Hiroshi mumbled, tugging at the collar. "Are you sure this isn't too... warlord-y?"
"It is perfect, Majesty," Marcus assured him. "It commands respect. It says, 'I am the State.'"
"Fine," Hiroshi sighed. "Are the greeters ready?"
"The 'Daughters of the Void' are in position," Elara reported.
Hiroshi looked up at the walls. Five hundred women in white robes stood ready with baskets.
"They look nice," Hiroshi noted. "Very angelic."
Wait until they drop the payload, Elara thought, gripping her dagger.
A horn blew. A real one this time, deep and mournful.
The Coalition Vanguard appeared at the end of the road.
They weren't marching in a parade formation. They were in a Testudo—shields locked, spears bristling, moving inch by inch like a steel tortoise terrified of being stepped on.
"They're... shy?" Hiroshi squinted. "Why are they hiding behind shields?"
"They are overwhelmed by your aura, Majesty," Gix whispered, hiding behind the Emperor's leg. "They dare not look upon your radiance."
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Hiroshi stepped forward.
He needed to break the ice. He needed to show them that this was a safe space.
He activated the [Voice Amplifier].
"WELCOME!"
The word hit the Coalition army like a physical hammer. The front line of the Testudo actually buckled. Shields clanged against armor. A horse fell over.
[System Alert][Diplomatic Volume: 400%][Accidental Sonic Attack: Successful][Enemy Morale: -30%]
"Sorry!" Hiroshi winced, dialing down the volume. "Microphone check. One, two."
He cleared his throat. He spread his arms wide, the Abyssal Cape unfurling like dragon wings.
"FRIENDS FROM THE WEST!" Hiroshi boomed, trying to sound jovial. "YOU HAVE TRAVELED FAR! PLEASE, LOWER YOUR SHIELDS! THERE IS NO NEED FOR STEEL HERE!"
King Alaric, peering through the gap in his shields, saw a ten-foot-tall dark god standing on a river of red, surrounded by spikes, demanding they disarm.
"He wants us to drop our defenses," Alaric hissed to Thrain. "So his archers on the wall can butcher us."
"Hold the line!" Thrain shouted. "Do not drop a single shield!"
Hiroshi frowned. They weren't relaxing. This was awkward.
"Maybe they need a drink?" Hiroshi thought aloud. "Elara, release the... you know."
"The payload," Elara nodded. She signaled the wall.
The Daughters of the Void tipped their baskets.
Thousands of red rose petals fell from the sky.
To the soldiers below, seeing red flakes falling from the hands of robed cultists, it didn't look like flowers.
"POISON SPORES!" a mage screamed. "DON'T BREATHE!"
The entire Coalition army held its breath. Fifty thousand men, blue in the face, shuffling forward in absolute terror while being rained on by harmless vegetation.
Hiroshi watched them. He turned to Marcus.
"They're a bit stiff, aren't they?"
"They are awestruck," Marcus said, wiping a tear. "They are holding their breath to avoid consuming your air, Majesty. It is the ultimate sign of submission."
"Weird custom," Hiroshi shrugged. "Alright. Open the gates. Let's get them to the buffet before they pass out."
The massive iron gates groaned open.
And for the first time, King Alaric looked Emperor Varek in the eye.
Varek smiled.
It was the smile of a man who hoped the potato salad had enough mayonnaise. It looked like the smile of a demon who had just spotted fresh meat.