As Crimson Aegis approached the hotel gate, he noticed a group of soldiers standing at attention. Their armor, though clearly modeled after the national city guard, was a simpler version, marking them as lower-ranking than someone like Lieutenant Layla.
When they caught sight of him, their eyes widened, not just in awe of his striking appearance but at the sight of the cape draped over his shoulders. It bore the insignia of the Heartless Guild – a symbol known only to the highest ranks and the founding members of the Heartless Republic.
Realization struck them like a bolt of lightning, and without hesitation, the soldiers fell to their knees, their heads bowed low.
Crimson paused, clearly taken aback by the unexpected display of reverence. In the past, they had expressly forbidden kneeling, choosing instead to foster respect without subservience. For a moment, he stood there, a mix of nostalgia and surprise flickering across his face, before he gently raised his hand.
"Stand," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the still air. "We do not allow kneeling."
Before they stood up, the soldiers exchanged quick, uncertain glances before slowly rising to their feet. Crimson's sharp eyes caught sight of Layla amidst the group, her distinctive lieutenant's armor gleaming under the morning sun. She stepped forward, her expression a mix of respect and urgency.
"Your excellency," she said, her tone formal but tinged with a hint of relief, "one of the current High Elders is inside, waiting to meet with you and the others."
Crimson's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected news, but he quickly composed himself, giving Layla a brief nod. "Thank you for informing me," he said, his tone calm but with a hint of curiosity.
He turned on his heel, his long, flowing cloak catching the morning breeze as he strode toward the grand entrance of the Pendragon Hotel. Layla followed closely behind, her posture sharp and disciplined as they moved past the line of saluting soldiers.
While they are walking, Layla is having a complicated feelings. She is blushing as he follow him, even though she already know how handsome Crimson is. But now that he dress like a prince, she is having a girl problem.
As they walked toward the grand entrance of the Pendragon Hotel, Layla's heart raced with each step. She had always known how handsome Crimson was, but now, dressed like a prince with an air of authority that seemed to ripple through the very air around him, he felt even more overwhelming.
Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as she followed behind him, trying to keep her eyes forward and her mind focused. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore the way his long, dark hair framed his sharp jawline or how his confident stride made him stand out like a king among soldiers.
Calm down, Layla, she thought to herself, clenching her fists slightly to keep her composure. You're a lieutenant – act like one.
But the memories from the night before still lingered in her mind – the way his eyes had softened as he removed his helmet, the faint hint of a smile on his lips as he teased Xiao Li Jing.
She swallowed hard, her heart pounding louder as they reached the entrance. This is bad... She had to focus. She had a duty to uphold. But with every step, it felt like the ground beneath her was slipping away.
As they approached the grand entrance, Crimson glanced over his shoulder at Layla. "Who is this High Elder that has come to visit us?" he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity.
Layla quickly composed herself, pushing aside her flustered thoughts. "His name is Erondil," she replied. "He is a high elf and one of the past subordinates who served directly under you. He was part of the Coercitor Branch, one of the generals who fought for the beliefs of the Heartless Republic. He's always been loyal to the cause."
Crimson's steps slowed for a moment as the name struck a chord in his memory. Erondil...
He remembered the high elf clearly now. Back in the days when the Heartless Guild laid the foundation of this nation, Erondil had been one of the twelve Executors under his command. Unlike the other branches, the Coercitor Branch specialized in discipline, order, and enforcing the will of the guild. It was a powerful force, and Erondil had been among the fiercest of its members.
Crimson's eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled the past, the countless battles they had fought side by side, and the long nights spent strategizing in the war room, and the unwavering loyalty Erondil had always shown. The Coercitor Branch had always been a blend of players and NPCs, six of each, and Erondil had been one of the most steadfast NPCs among them.
He's still alive... still serving the Heartless even after fifty years...
Crimson felt a strange sense of pride mixed with relief. His old comrades, those who had once stood with him on the battlefield, were still here, still fighting for the dream they had built together.
As they stepped into the grand lobby of the Pendragon Hotel, Crimson Aegis was met with a surprising sight. The wide, polished marble floors gleamed under the soft light of the crystal chandeliers, and the air was filled with the low murmur of voices. Dozens of soldiers stood gathered in the hall, their armors polished and their ranks clearly displayed – two captains, a colonel, a general, and several lieutenants among them.
Crimson's eyes quickly found the familiar faces of his fellow past high elders near the grand reception desk. They were deep in conversation with a tall, regal figure – Erondil, the high elf and current High Elder of the Heartless Republic. His long, silver hair flowed like a river down his back, and his piercing green eyes glowed with a subtle but unmistakable power.
As the gathered soldiers and officers turned to see who had entered, the lobby fell into a sudden, stunned silence. All eyes were on Crimson – the towering, dark-haired figure in his princely attire, the cloak bearing the ancient insignia of the Heartless Guild swaying gently behind him. His presence was overwhelming, his aura commanding. For a moment, it felt like the old days, when his mere presence on the battlefield was enough to inspire and intimidate.
Then, as if on cue, Xiao Li Jing's voice cut through the heavy silence.
"Oh, here he comes! Look at you, Crimson! Dressed like a real prince this time," she teased, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. She waved her hand dramatically, as if presenting him to the crowd. "Don't tell me you're trying to steal the spotlight already?"
A ripple of nervous chuckles spread through the ranks of soldiers, and a few of the high-ranking officers visibly relaxed. Crimson couldn't help but smirk under his breath as the tension in the room eased, Xiao's playful taunt cutting through the reverence like a warm breeze.
As the soldiers gradually realized who stood before them, their eyes widened in awe and respect. Whispers spread quickly among them, words like "The Crimson Aegis" and "The Supreme Executor" passing from one officer to the next. The weight of his legacy hung in the air, pressing down like a physical force.
For many of these soldiers, he was more than just a legendary figure – he was a myth come to life. His name was etched into the very foundations of their nation, immortalized in countless military manuals and history books. Tales of his conquests, of the ruthless efficiency with which he led his armies, were taught to every aspiring officer and soldier.
They remembered the stories – how he crushed entire legions, turned hopeless battles into resounding victories, and forged this republic with the blood and iron of countless conflicts. He was the one who had personally ended the lives of billions in the chaos of the early days, carving out this nation's borders with his blade and iron will.
And now, here he stood, a living legend returned from the past, exuding an air of power and confidence that seemed to draw every eye in the room.
Erondil was the first to step forward, his tall, slender form moving with the fluid grace characteristic of high elves. His long, silver hair flowed behind him, and his sharp, emerald eyes locked onto Crimson's face.
When he reached the front of the gathered crowd, he dropped to one knee, lowering his head with a deep, respectful bow.
"Master," Erondil said, his voice steady yet filled with a rare warmth. "It is an honor to see you again. I have long awaited this day."
Crimson's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his sharp, dark eyes. He had never considered himself a master to anyone, but Erondil had always been different. Even in the past, this high elf had clung to his every word, absorbing his lessons on battlefield tactics and military strategy with a fierce, almost unbreakable loyalty.
Despite Crimson's own discomfort with titles like master or lord, he could not deny the bond they had forged over countless battles, victories, and the fires of conflict that had shaped the early days of their republic.
Erondil looked up, a small, genuine smile breaking his usually stern expression. "I am truly glad to see you again."
Crimson extended his hand, resting it briefly on Erondil's armored shoulder, his dark eyes meeting the elf's steady gaze.
"I am glad to see you again as well, Erondil," he said, his voice firm yet carrying a hint of warmth. "Thank you for standing strong and defending the foundation of this nation in our absence."
Erondil's eyes brightened, the weight of decades of loyalty and sacrifice reflected in his expression. For a brief moment, the noisy hotel lobby felt silent, the gathered soldiers and officers witnessing a reunion of legends.
Crimson let out a short, wry chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "We've always forbidden kneeling in this nation. It's a symbol of submission – a sign of slavery. Here, no one should have to kneel before another."
Erondil, still on one knee, looked up at him with a calm, unwavering gaze. "But, Master, it is my choice – my own free will and as you once taught me, 'All people of this nation have free will, and that free will should not be taken by others.'"
Crimson felt a flicker of surprise at his own words being turned back on him, a rare, crooked smile forming on his lips.
At that, the other past high elders burst into laughter, Xiao Li Jing slapping Crimson on the back as she grinned. "Oh, looks like you've been checkmated, old man."
Crimson sighed, a faint hint of amusement in his eyes as he met Erondil's steady gaze. "Alright, alright. Stand, then. No more of this kneeling nonsense."
Erondil rose to his feet smoothly, his posture straight and dignified, a hint of pride in his eyes. As he stood, the other past high elders moved closer, forming a small, tight circle around Crimson.
Sir Pendragon, with a sharp grin, clapped a hand on Crimson's shoulder. "Erondil here has extended an invitation for us to visit the Heartless Palace. Apparently, the current high elders want to meet us."
Xiao Li Jing crossed her arms, a curious spark in her eyes. "But he mentioned that only three of the current high elders are present. The rest are off on diplomatic missions to other nations."
Crimson glanced at Erondil, his sharp, dark eyes catching the subtle flicker of excitement in the elf's expression. "I see... It's been a while since we've set foot in the palace. I suppose it's time we met the ones holding our old seats."
Moonlight Fury nodded, his tone calm but with a hint of his old sharpness. "Then we shouldn't keep them waiting."
As the group exchanged glances, Xiao Li Jing suddenly placed her hands on her hips, a playful pout forming on her lips. "Wait a minute! We're just going to leave without eating? I haven't even had breakfast yet!"
Crimson chuckled, shaking his head. "You still have that habit, huh? Even though we don't actually get hungry anymore, you still cling to your old routines."
Xiao grinned, unfazed. "Old habits die hard, my friend."
Erondil, catching the lighthearted banter, took a step forward and bowed slightly. "Please, rest assured, Lady Xiao Li Jing. The Heartless Palace is fully prepared to host a grand feast in your honor. You will find the finest dishes of the land awaiting you."
Xiao's eyes brightened, her earlier teasing turning into genuine excitement. "Now that's more like it!"
Sir Pendragon chuckled, adjusting the cuffs of his elegant coat. "Alright then, it seems we have both business and pleasure waiting for us. Shall we?"
With that, the group straightened, their lighthearted mood settling into a more serious tone as they prepared to meet the current leaders of the nation they once ruled.
As they stepped out of the Pendragon Hotel, the cool morning breeze greeted them, carrying the faint sounds of the bustling city waking up. Crimson walked beside Erondil, his mind already turning to the state of the nation they had built.
"Erondil," Crimson began, his tone curious, "who is the current Supreme Executor?"
Erondil glanced at him, his sharp, elven features calm and respectful. "I am, Master."
Crimson's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You? You're the Supreme Executor?"
Erondil nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Yes, it became a tradition that a Supreme Executor can also run in the election for a high elder seat. It symbolizes the unity of strength and leadership within our nation, a path you first established."
Crimson paused for a moment, absorbing this revelation. He hadn't expected one of his former subordinates to not only rise to the highest rank but also maintain the very structure he had created.
"I see... so they chose to keep that tradition," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "It seems you've carried the torch well."
Erondil's gaze softened, and he bowed his head slightly. "I only did what you taught me, Master."
The other past high elders, walking close behind, exchanged knowing glances. They could feel the weight of Crimson's influence still lingering in the very fabric of this nation, even after fifty long years.
One of the soldiers stepped forward and guided them to one of the carriages parked in the middle of the twelve lined up outside the hotel. Each carriage proudly bore the flag of the Heartless Republic, the same insignia as the Heartless Guild a crimson heart with a crossed blade, symbolizing their unbreakable resolve and fierce spirit. The carriage they approached was larger than the others, built to accommodate up to ten people, its polished wooden frame and reinforced steel fittings reflecting the bright morning light.
As the past high elders and Erondil entered their carriage, the remaining soldiers quickly moved to their respective carriages. The sound of boots against cobblestone and the creak of carriage doors echoed in the morning air. Once everyone was settled, the drivers snapped the reins, and the convoy of twelve carriages began its journey toward the Heartless Palace, the symbol of their legacy and the heart of their republic.
As the carriages gently swayed with the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the stone roads, Sir Pendragon leaned forward, his expression curious. "How are the other returning players managing? And how is the order of the city holding up?"
Erondil, seated beside Crimson, straightened slightly, his sharp elven eyes focused as he responded. "The order has been mostly restored, but not without some turbulence. Some of the immortal adventurers, the returning players have caused chaos, testing the limits of the laws. However, the National City Guards were quick to respond."
He paused for a moment, his gaze flicking to each of the past high elders before continuing. "A few of them even attempted to harm innocent citizens. Those who crossed the line have been dealt with accordingly. They were killed within the city and, just like in the past, resurrected outside the city walls."
The past high elders exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and relief. Crimson's brow furrowed slightly beneath his dark hair. Xiao Li Jing let out a low whistle, her golden eyes widening.
"They still resurrect like before?" she asked, leaning back in her seat.
Erondil nodded, his tone firm. "Yes, as a precaution, they have been banned from entering the city again for the time being. The laws have become stricter, and the protection of the citizens remains our highest priority."
Moonlight Fury folded his arms, his eyes narrowing in thought. "So, even without the game system, the world still clings to some of its old rules."
Crimson exhaled, his thoughts briefly drifting to the memories of countless battles and the countless lives they had protected to build this republic. The weight of their legacy felt even heavier now, knowing that some of their former comrades still clung to their old, chaotic ways.