Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points!-Chapter 111: War Part Seven

Imagine an empire’s grand banquet, where nobles and lords from across the land gather in anticipation.

The tables are covered with the finest silks, the aroma of roasted meats fills the air, and golden goblets shimmer under candlelight.

The guests, dressed in their finest garments, are prepared to dine like kings.

But then... a single scrap of stale bread is tossed onto the table.

No feast.

No lavish spread.

Just one miserable piece of bread, as if that alone was enough to satisfy them.

At first, there is silence... a stunned feeling of disbelief.

And then, outrage erupts.

The insult is beyond words.

To be treated as if they were worth no more than beggars, to have their honor disregarded so utterly... it is unthinkable.

That was the feeling that gripped the enemy forces at the western walls.

They had marched for war, thousands strong, their banners raised high, their weapons sharpened for battle.

They had expected the clash of steel, the roars of battle, the desperate cries of those who would fall to their blade.

But instead... the Emperor had sent only one man.

Ivan.

It was not a show of strategy, nor a desperate last stand.

It was an insult.

A declaration that they were not worth the might of an army, that one warrior alone was all it took to stand against them.

Their faces twisted with fury, hands tightening around their weapons.

They would not be dismissed.

They would not be mocked.

And yet... deep within their rage, something colder crept in. A quiet, unwelcome thought.

If this man had been sent alone… Perhaps it was not because their army was unworthy. Explore stories on novelbuddy

It was because he was beyond them all, though only one man saw it like that.

And it was Malrik, the Shadow Reaper, who was also the commander of this massive army at the western gate.

Being the seasoned warrior that he was, he could sense it.

That this man’s strength was immense, but perhaps with the use of his army, he would be worn down, then he could land the finishing blow.

Or perhaps he could serve another purpose, being the mage that he was, Malrik could already tell that breaking that barrier would be physically and magically impossible for him and it’s men, meaning they couldn’t get in no matter how hard they tried.

’It must be some sort of powerful artifact, but where did he find such a thing, between the walls changing and this barrier, all seem all to impossible for mortal capabilities, even if he were to have made a deal with an evil god, he would have to make a substantial sacrifice to obtain this power.’

Whatever the case may be, they wouldn’t be able to advance beyond this point… Unless they got help.

But this man that had emerged out of the barrier a moment ago could be there key, if they could convince him to work with them and get rid of the artifact that was creating the barrier, his forces could charge in.

Malrik’s second-in-command, a warrior named Rodrik, stepped forward, his heavy armor clanking with each movement. "Commander, why do we hesitate?" he asked, his voice edged with impatience. "The men are restless. We should strike now before this farce drags on any longer!"

Malrik raised a hand, silencing him. His sharp, battle-hardened eyes remained fixed on the lone warrior standing before the vast army. There was something unsettling about him, something that sent a quiet, crawling unease through even the most seasoned veterans in their ranks.

"No, Rodrik," Malrik murmured. "I wish to speak with him first."

Malrik stepped forward, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "Warrior, why do you stand with a tyrant?" His tone was not hostile, but questioning. "You are powerful—I can see it. A man of your strength does not need to bow to such a monster. Why waste your blade in the service of a creature unfit to rule? Join us, and together, we will liberate the empire. We will bring forth the dawn of a new age."

For a moment, Ivan stood still. Then, his lips curled into a smirk, and his voice rang out with disdain.

"Such lies."

His words carried a weight that made the front ranks of soldiers flinch, as if struck by an unseen force.

"You have long since been informed that the Emperor is no longer the man you once knew," Ivan continued. "And yet, you dare to slander him. To lie so boldly, to twist the truth for your own ends... How utterly pathetic."

Malrik’s expression darkened. "Even if he has changed, his sins remain. A creature such as him deserves only death. He is no man—he is a beast that should never have been born!"

Ivan went silent.

Then, he laughed. A low, mirthless chuckle that sent a chill down the spines of those who heard it.

"Death? A beast?" he repeated, his voice filled with amusement.

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His laughter grew, as if he had heard such an argument before—countless times.

"So what?" Ivan said at last. "Do you think yourself a champion of justice? Yet you stand with men who would commit the very same crimes you so boldly accuse my liege of. You think yourself righteous, but you are no different from the one you wish to cut down."

Malrik’s grip on his sword tightened. "How dare you, I am nothing like that—"

"You remind me of my past," Ivan suddenly interrupted, stepping forward. His black mana began to swirl around him, thick and inky.

"I too was an utter fool, once. Driven by pointless pursuit of justice. But where did it lead me?"

His steps were slow, measured, each one sending a pulse of dark energy through the ground, cracks rippled outward. The air around him trembled.

"It led me to ruin."

Ivan said, his voice growing darker. "I was used. Cast aside. Betrayed by the very people I once called comrades because they feared my strength, they feared my power, because of their petty pride and incuricities… I lost everything."

The black mana around him surged violently, and a monstrous skeletal figure began to take shape above him, its empty eye sockets glowing with malice. The knights at the front lines instinctively took a step back, their weapons trembling in their hands.

Ivan’s smirk beneath his mask widened as he watched their fear unfold.

"Do you know what crimes I am guilty of, hero of justice?" he asked.

Malrik narrowed his eyes. "No," he said. "Pray tell."

Ivan stopped, standing amidst the swirling storm of darkness. His voice was calm, but the weight of his words made the very air feel heavy.

"I slaughtered," Ivan said simply.

His words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Men, women, children, and the elderly. It did not matter. All I wanted was to erase every last trace of my enemies and their legacy, the traitors themselves, the fools that decided to stand beside them, the heartless that chose to turn a blind eye to their actions. No loose ends left to strike me down later.

"Knights stood before me—I cut them down."

"Battalions were sent to stop me—I cut them down."

"An army stood in my way—I cut them down."

"I slaughtered, slaughtered, and slaughtered until I was bathed in blood."

"It did not matter what sort of obstacle stood before me, I would cut it down."

His black mana pulsed, the skeletal figure above him growing even larger, its jagged fingers curling into fists.

The soldiers at the front hesitated, their grip on their weapons weakening. Some even took another step back.

Ivan’s gaze locked onto Malrik. "So, tell me, hero—should I not be your true target? Not my liege?"

"His crimes are nothing compared to mine."

Malrik took a steady breath. "I have a responsibility to the empire—"

"More lies."

Ivan cut him off, his voice sharp as a blade.

"You are driven by revenge, yet you dare to justify yourself, how utterly pathetic," he said.

"Do you know what awaits you at the end of this path? nothing… emptiness."

"I too was once empty, and wandered aimlessly."

His black mana pulsed again, crackling like a raging storm.

"That was until I met my liege."

Ivan’s voice softened slightly, but his eyes remained as cold as ever.

"He gave me purpose. Meaning. Eyes that trusted me completely even after knowing my story."

"That is the man you call a beast?"

Ivan gritted his teeth.

"Such slander is deserving of death."

His mana flared, a monstrous wave of darkness surging outward.

"May you not know the bliss of heaven, the torment of hell, but be swallowed by the endless depths of the abyss."

Ivan’s mana spread out from beneath his feet like a massive carpet of darkness, swallowing the battlefield in its inky grasp. It slithered across the ground with unnatural speed, stretching far and wide until the entire field was consumed.

The knights who stood at the front shuddered as a strange, sticky sensation clung to their boots. Some tried to move, only to find their legs sinking ever so slightly into the shifting blackness. Their armor rattled as panic set in.

Ivan raised his hand, his fingers curling into a claw-like shape as his glowing red eyes locked onto Malrik.

"Prepare to be swallowed whole."

His voice was as cold as the abyss itself.

The darkness surged.