Yvain had a one-of-a-kind nuclear-powered royal carriage. Unlike Burn's war chariot, designed for a lone warrior, Yvain's carriage boasted specialized features focused on defense and prote.
Its interior exuded an air of luxurious fort, being anyone who stepped io bask in its vishness. The carriage was a sight to behold.
Plush upholstery adorned every surface, enveloping passengers in a co of vishness. Cushions, meticulously crafted for maximum fort, seemed to whisper promises of indulgend rexation.
Every detail, from the intricate carvings on the walls to the gilded ats, spoke of Yvain's identity as a ruler.
Within the spacious fines of the carriage, Yvain reveled in his own magnifice. The nuclear power that propelled the carriage ensured a smooth and swift journey, while als as a statement of his status and influence.
Here, within this mobile fortress of luxury and prote, Yvain could shield himself from the hardships and inveniehat mortals faced.
Especially with his master here, who had just recovered from a serious predit.
His eternally captivating master, seated beside him within the vish fines of the carriage, gazed out of the window with an air of sublime beauty.
Momo, the epitome of resplendence, possessed a charm that transded even the most dire circumstances. It was as if her beauty had an uny ability to flourish even amidst the most unfttering circumstances.
She could be drenched in mud or adorned with the fi manure, a, her allure would remain untouched, defying all ventional expectations.
“Ain, I’m sorry.”
Yvain flinched when the woman suddenly spoke.
She let out a weary sigh, her voice ced with a mix ret. "I vanished, without a single word. It's been all these years... You must've gohrough so much during my absence."
"All that matters is you're back, Master. Everything else is trivial; I uand," Yvain said, his words brushing aside the weight of the past with a simple, ear affe.
Momo responded with a soft chuckle, her ughter tinged with a hint of sadness as she pulled him into a warm embrace. "If you knew what the future holds, I wonder if you'd still find it in your heart tive me.”
Yvai plicated. Seeing what happened earlier between his master and Burn, he felt that they knew something and shouldered it alone.
He was still a kid, after all, privy to the universal child's diet of secrets and half-truths.
Yet, he wore a , which regrettably didn't e with the luxury of a typical childhood—no scraped knees or stolen cookies, just statecraft and scepters.
Was this because he was weak?
“Aside from the past, my child, have you seen the reports about the Elysian Kingdom?” Momo asked.
“Huh? Uh… that…” Yvain sputtered. The whole thing with the kingdom was something else—cloaked in secred just pin wrong.
Treating the prind princess like they were objects, rather than actual people. All over some prophecy—
“When you walk into the enemy’s pace at the end of this march, what do you think you’ll enter?” Momo inquired.
“Well, after our brief skirmish on the border, they’re probably give up and accept their defeat. Perhaps a scattering of he king, and his heir might turn tail…”
“Given all the details in those reports and their history so far, what do you think will happen?” Momo pressed.
“From what I gather, there’s no escape pn brewing in the royal quarters. So, if I barge in, I might just catch them like that.”
Momo nodded.
But then, she slowly expined, "You know, desperation has a knack for squeezing out more from people than mere surrender, hands up and knees in the dirt. It brew up a batch of hope when you least expect it."
"Master… what are you getting at?" Yvain's fusion was clear, his uanding gging a few steps behind.
"Their hope is the arrival of a new princess. When the walls start closing in, what do you think their py will be?" Momo posed the questioly, hinting at the deeper strategies at py.
Momo's hinted keywords were reports, history, and desperation.
Yvain remembered he had read a report stating that all unmarried noble daughters in the kingdom had been gathered and hosted in the pace just yesterday.
He had initially thought it was an attempt to save them from the war.
"They're creating a harem for the young prince, f him to sow his royal seed with every noble daughter present. At this point, that will be the sight you enter, my child," Momo said.
Yvain was mature for his age, dubbed 'Little Merlin' for his prodigious intellect. Yet, let’s not fet, he was still a 12-year-old.
“You’re a king, and you’re the same age as him, if my memory serves me right,” Momo pointed out with a slight tilt of her head, “And that’s exactly why you o be clued in on this mess.”
Yvaihe air squeeze out of his lungs.
“In an ideal world, we’d have none of this nonsense—a reality where no child is expected to py grown-up in su absurdly adult sandbox.”
"A reality where a young child is forced to engage in such activities with multiple partners at once,” Momo whispered in shame. “Ain, I am sorry that this is the world you live in."
Digesting her words, simmering in his mind, Yvain found himself rendered speechless, struck mute by the sheer horror of it all.
There he was, a preteen king draped in the velvet linings of a nuclear-powered royal carriage—the hum of atomiergy in the background serving as a bizarre lulby for his thoughts.
It was almost ironic, really: here he sat in the p of advanced, opulent teology, yet grappling with medieval-level barbarism.
No matter the chatter, Yvain was indeed one of the fortunate ones.
He could hold his own in a scuffle, had his master now and then—her vanishing acts a test of his self-suffid was graced with divine blessings, armed with strength and Vision.
But that other boy? He was nothing more than a mariorung along by the desperate hopes of a kingdom, dang to a tune posed by the fickle fingers of the sinisters. A twisted bea of hope, indeed.
Chosen not because of his strength, but his mediocrity—how utterly tragic. How…
“Will His Majesty save him?” Yvain inquired.
Momo’s eyebrows arched at the question.
“Caliburn?”
Yvain nodded.
“I’m not sure,” Momo replied, her voice tinged with uainty. “He’s ly the person who would…”
Yvain’s gaze fell.
“But,” Momo tinued with a reassuring smile, “he’s also not oo take lives unnecessarily. Besides, do you really think it would be wise to save him rather tha him die?”
Yvain, unaware of his own past loop’s decision to order obliteration of everything with his mana, asserted, “It’s not too te to save him, right? No, even if it is, we must try.”
Momo smiled.
“It will be challenging. It will be a tremendous responsibility. Caliburn, the man responsible for decisions, won’t help you,” she cautioned.
“It’s okay,” Yvain responded firmly. “I am a king too.”
“If His Majesty permits him to live, then I will rescue him… along with his brothers… and all the priashed away as mere pawns.”
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Shoutout to my first Patron:
La'auli Bkelock!
Love you, man! Thanks for the support!
