Cataclysm Conquest | Chapter 06: Briefings and Arrivals (First Draft)

Saturday, November 26, 4 S.E.

Leonidas stepped into the palace Press Room three hours later, wishing the day would end.

After he’d finished his speech in the Senatorum Royalis, concluding with another message of encouragement toward unity and promises toward expanding the nation’s borders, Aylar had given her own speech, reinforcing the need for the rule of law and emphasizing the togetherness of the Kingdom.

Between the two of them, they’d managed to hammer the message home quite effectively and had departed to allow the House of Nobles and House of Commons to have their own scheduled discourse, after a firm reminder that he wanted the Constitution and its suggested amendments returned to the Crown by the end of November.

The carriage ride back to the palace had been a quiet affair, with Maryanne doting on Aylar while his wife tolerated it with amusement, reassuring her that her pregnancy was going well and there was nothing to be concerned about—the advent of the System meant that pregnancy complications, outside of external influences like assassins or aberrant mana exposure, were largely non-existent.

It hadn’t entirely assured Leonidas’ mother, but she had the same reminders every other week, so he supposed that Maryanne would remain worried until the children were actually born.

Synthra and Kairi had chosen to visit the Guild to see Parnym, who’d been teaching Mender courses for the massive wave of new sign-ups, and had set off after a warm farewell, chatting animatedly in a way that demonstrated the strange friendship the pair had struck up.

Given how insane they both were, in Leonidas’ eyes, he supposed it was to be expected. Now, three hours after everything was complete and his Mentor had promised not to mentally obliterate any of the sitting members of the Commons and Nobles, Leonidas strode into the press briefing he’d agreed to host—allowing Aylar to make her way back to her rooms to rest, accompanied by a fretful Maryanne and a faintly distracted Reginald. His father was always distracted at that point. The plethora of new Skills he’d been able to learn from the Haelfenn Elementalists had him engrossed in his magic.

When Leonidas entered the Press Room, already filled with Aureates standing at silent attention, Mernyn came with him—standing off to his left while Leonidas stepped up the three steps to the elevated pulpit, and peered out at the room full of eager reporters.

“Alright, then,” he said with faint amusement, settling his forearms on the pulpit and ignoring the flashless clicks of photos being taken. “Let’s have it. Who’s going first?”

Thirty hands shot up into the air with cries of “Your Majesty!” and “King Leonidas!” and he picked one at random, his mind already bracing itself as Kara Denvers, a blonde reporter from the Daily World, rose promptly, smoothing her chic navy suit and smiling at him politely.

“Your Majesty, you made mention of mandatory military service in your address to the Parliament. What, exactly, is your timeline for students who graduate from the Academy you’ve established, when it comes to enlistment? Similarly, which actual choices do they have?”

Leonidas’ lips twisted into a wry smile of his own, and he nodded at the question as notepads and binders opened across the room.

“Well, Miss Denvers, that’s pretty straightforward: graduates will have their Alphas assessed at the time of graduation by representatives from the Legions and Adventurers’ Guild, and be given a list of relevant appointments that would suit their capabilities. After that, they’ll choose one and begin their period of service after an optional six months’ time with their families.”

“Why the Adventurers’ Guild, Your Majesty?” Kara asked immediately, writing quickly on her notepad.

“It would be silly to discount their knowledge when it comes to Alphas and training paths, Miss Denvers. They’re the premier manabeast-hunters for a reason. Think of it like assuring the career paths of our youth.”

The reporter nodded and sat down reluctantly, clearly with another question on her lips, but following the rules he’d laid out: one question, one follow-up, no exceptions.

More hands shot into the air immediately, and Leonidas pointed to a Haelfar man with a shock of blue hair, who stood up immediately, wearing an eccentric mix of Terran suit and Alteran robes that were blue in color and largely impossible to reconcile in Leonidas’ mind. The man’s badge identified him as belonging to the Central Chronicle, whose name Leonidas still found odd.

“Tyros Muron, my [Sovereign]! I was wondering about your statement regarding the statement relating to, and I quote, ‘exceptions for those whose Alphas qualify them for more specialist roles’. Does this mean the Ordo Umbrae and Ordo Aureati are possibilities for placement?”

Leonidas hummed at the question and glanced at Mernyn, who met his look with an expression of quiet amusement. The King smirked and looked back to Tyros, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“If they can pass the strict screening process required by the Ordos, I don’t see why not,” Leonidas answered with a chuckle. “It’s not like I can ever have too many bodyguards for my wife, and my sister is always complaining that she doesn’t have enough Operatives.”

Tyros nodded as he wrote down the words, and then asked his follow-up.

“And do you have any statement to make regarding the murmurs of discontent from the public relating to perceived autocratic overreach?”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows at the words and tilted his head.

“Could you be more specific, Mister Muron?”

The Haelfar nodded and peered at him intently.

“It’s been said by some citizens that you’ve been growing more, ah, strict in the months since the Cataclysm War and your Coronation, with some expressing worry you’re tightening the grip too much on the people—especially with the activity of Her Highness the Princess and her Specters.”

Leonidas’ smile turned sardonic at the clarification, and he sighed.

“I take it the ‘citizens’ you’re referring to happen to be part of the same social stratum?” he waved a hand a second later. “No, don’t bother, I already know the answer,” he continued, fending off the denial before it could come.

“The matter is simple, Mister Muron: the [Kingdom of Avalon] is in its first year of existence, and there are certain elements both internally and externally that would see our providence curtailed to avoid threats—be it to foreign powers or those that have enjoyed certain privileges prior to my reign, and are now losing them,” Leonidas stated with calm certainty. “Given that every Magistrate in this City is capable of, or has access to, Psi Affinity to assess guilt, I don’t think the activities of my military need to concern anyone who is loyal and abides by the law.”

The Haelfar opened his mouth, eyed Leonidas, and then thought better of it—sitting down after a moment and scribbling on his notepad while Leonidas turned to the rest of the room, and pointed at another reporter, a Nekomara woman with twitching white cat ears in a bright pink blouse and white tennis skirt from the Dawnhaven Daily, who rose happily.

Irina Parus was always the image of girlish excitement.

“Your Majesty! First of all, congratulations on your first address!”

Leonidas smiled warmly at her and wordlessly inclined his head in thanks.

“With that said, I was wondering about your plans with Lady Synthra! It’s an open secret that you and the Sorceress of the Everflame intend to marry, and the citizens are aflame with curiosity about when you’ll officially propose!”

Leonidas sighed at the question, but not out of frustration as much as amusement, and shrugged again.

“You’ll have to wait and see, Miss Parus. I’m afraid that’s something I’m not at liberty to comment on—not the least because my intended may very well light me on fire if I do.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the room as pens moved rapidly, and the Nekomara grinned at his answer.

“A follow-up, then, Your Majesty! The Queen has looked radiant lately. Are you ready to tell us what we can expect from the Royal Heir? It’s been postulated that you already know the sex of the baby.”

As if. I don’t want to know, and we haven’t told anyone it’s twins, yet.

“I’m afraid that’s not true, Miss Parus,” Leonidas said out loud, chuckling as he did. “I’m a bit old-fashioned. I’d rather wait until my children are born before deciding on their future. As for the implied question, the sex of my child is irrelevant. My eldest child by the lawful Queen will be my heir. My wife would have made a perfectly exceptional ruler for Dawnhaven regardless of my existence, and I have no reason to believe a theoretical daughter would be any less capable.”

Irina’s ears twitched rapidly in glee, and she bowed before thumping back into her seat, writing fiercely on her notepad as hands went up again.

Leonidas scanned the crowd and then pointed to the carefully styled brow-haired head of Derek Myers, a reporter in a more traditional black suit and tie from the Avalon Herald. The Terran man rose smoothly, bowing in respect before speaking, his grey eyes intent.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” he said formally, his pseudo-British accent coming through. “My question relates to the Royal Plurality as well: the Svartfenn were brought into the Kingdom with the express understanding you would take a bride from their Matrilines, specifically proposing Lady Xarina Lyrin. Would you be willing to comment on the progress of your courtship, and how it might impact your marriage with Lady Synthra?”

Leonidas sighed at the question, but he didn’t get more than a touch irritated by it. His arrangement with Yvrain and the Starhold remnants had been a hot topic for months, and he wasn’t surprised the question was being asked. It was annoying that it was being pursued with such obsession, but he could hardly forget the obsession people had with celebrity romance pre-Incursion.

“My relationship with Scion Lyrin is proceeding at a pace we are both comfortable with, Mister Myers,” Leonidas answered honestly, his voice steady. “We have dinner once a week, and she works closely with Princess Kairi. As for how it impacts my plans with Lady Synthra, I’m sorry to disappoint the gossipmongers, but it impacts it not at all.”

Derek nodded and wrote on his notepad before asking his follow-up.

“To that end, Your Majesty, it has been raised that despite your own Terran blood, you have yet to show any interest in a Terran wife. It has left the public wondering if you ever intend to take a wife from among your own species, or if your tastes are disinclined toward your own people.”

Leonidas raised both eyebrows at the question and felt a grudging respect for the temerity inherent in asking it. The man was brave, that was for certain.

“I have no desire to collect wives like Pokémon, Derek,” Leonidas said firmly, referencing a pre-Integration cultural staple. “I’ve been very vocal about my discomfort around the Royal Plurality, and the wife I currently have and the one I intend on marrying soon are more than enough for me. I agreed to the Starhold’s requirements out of civic duty, with clearly defined boundaries around mutual consent. I can assure you, Mister Myers, that I have no interest in rushing to find another potential bride—regardless of species.”

Derek frowned at the answer but nodded, accepting it and returning to his seat as hands went up again. Leonidas glanced across the room and then pointed to a swarthy Orc woman in a lovely black dress, smiling faintly at her when Graka Torton, of Amazon Magazine, rose with deceptive elegance and a small bow.

“Your Majesty,” she said smoothly around her small tusks, “to follow up on Derek’s question, it’s been observed that all of your potential wives are untouched by men. Is this something you hold as an important factor for worth? Many female readers have expressed concern that you may see women with experience as beneath you.”

Leonidas blinked twice at the question and then snorted loudly.

“Miss Torton,” he said when she raised her hairless eyebrows, “I was raised with certain values. Of course, I have preferences, but they’re based on a belief of love, not a belief of worth. I don’t care who someone has been with—I care about the sanctity of love. One of my many issues around the Royal Plurality is my belief that you should only share your body with one person, as a sign of that love, but that doesn’t mean I judge anyone for their choices—it would be downright hypocritical and disgusting, especially given my own situation. Have you all forgotten who my Mentor is?”

Another ripple of laughter passed through the room at the mention of Ceruviel and her famed hedonism, and Leonidas shook his head as he followed on with his answer.

“To answer your question very directly: I would not turn away someone I loved based on their lack of virginity, to be very clear about what you’re asking—that would go against my higher morals. Love is love, Miss Torton. My only requirements were that the bride I take from the Starhold consent to the arrangement and not be hedonistic, not that she be untouched. That very idea that someone’s worth can be diminished by past intimacy is offensive to me.”

Graka nodded and cleared her throat at his answer, clearly not having expected him to be so detailed in his revulsion at the idea. Leonidas was content to let her suffer in the discomfort. It was an absolutely idiotic question to ask.

“As a separate follow-up, Your Majesty: some people have raised concerns about the revelations around your nature as the bearer of the [Cataclysm Core]. Many Svartfenn have told tales of what the [Talrinarian Cataclysm] did to their homeworld. Would it be safe to say you are not experiencing the so-named ‘Dirge of Destruction’?”

Leonidas smiled mirthlessly at the question and raised his right eyebrow.

“Are you asking me if I’m liable to go mad and obliterate half the planet, Miss Torton?”

Graka hesitated at his words, swallowed, but then bravely nodded as the crowd went quiet, leaning forward actively at his bold choice of clarification. He saw curiosity, interest, and more than a little fear on their faces.

Leonidas found the Orc’s courage admirable, truthfully. He’d have wondered, too. It was one thing to know your Monarch was powerful; it was another entirely to find out they would have the power to obliterate the world on a bad day.

“Then let me put you at ease: I am not going mad. My Core’s influence over my mind has never been less potent, and I have an exceedingly high Willpower Attribute that ensures that remains the case, even past Ascendant rank. I will not endanger my people, Miss Torton, even if it means I have to take drastic measures to ensure their safety.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded, bowed again with a hint of apology in the motion, and resumed her seat.

When the hands shot up again, Leonidas sighed and smiled wryly.

“Does anyone have questions that don’t relate to my future marriages, my Core, or anything to do with my family?”

Hesitation flickered across multiple faces, and over half the hands slowly lowered, drawing another shake of Leonidas’ head as he pointed to a Dwarf man in the back, with a brown beard down to his waist. He was attired in simple brown robes, with a pair of immense goggles over his eyes as he rose and stood on his chair.

Doran Breakstone was a particularly blunt reporter from the Avalon Times.

Leonidas liked him because of his common-sense nature.

“Yer Majesty,” he said gruffly, “there have been reports that yer new Taxation plan will be finalized at the New Year. Can ye shed light on yer plans for that?”

“Certainly,” Leonidas said smoothly. “I will be implementing a ten percent goods and services tax across all items within the Kingdom, which will be paid to the Crown treasury. Additionally, I have made it clear that income will not be taxed, and neither will we tax homeowners for their land. Once you own it, it’s yours. Inheritance tax will not exist, and neither will I institute any form of regular taxation. Candidly, the Crown is very rich. I have neither desire nor reason to deprive my citizens.”

The Dwarf nodded as he scribbled down the words, and Leonidas saw more than a few faces light up at his words, especially the Terrans.

“And what does goods and services entail, Yer Majesty? What falls under that umbrella?” Doran asked in follow-up, beard ruffling as he spoke.

“Any goods or services you buy will be increased by ten percent,” Leonidas said simply, shrugging his shoulders. “I like Maurice’s Hotdogs, for example. They cost ten copper apiece. Now they’ll cost eleven. If you want healing, it’ll cost you 10% more than it normally does. Carriage maintenance, property rental, arms repair—it all goes under the umbrella. The only exception is the Adventurers’ Guild Contracts, as the Guild’s Council has agreed to contribute food to the Kingdom in exchange for not being taxed on their contracts, and Faith-based institutions, which must donate half their excess income unneeded for operational costs to the Royal Academy Crown Orphanage.”

Nods followed his words, and Doran grunted in thanks, jumping down and then flopping back into his chair as he scribbled quietly onto his notepad.

Leonidas looked out across the raised hands again and was about to pick one when a palace Butler entered the room, marching straight to Mernyn and whispering into his ear. Leonidas raised his eyebrow, and Mernyn eyed the man before turning to the King and stepping up, speaking softly.

“A visitor has arrived at the Castle, Your Majesty,” he murmured. “A messenger, apparently, from the [Empire of the Lion].”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows as a mix of uncertainty, excitement, and strategic caution flared through him and then nodded, turning back to the reporters.

“Unfortunately, something has come up that requires my attention. You can direct any further questions to my Ministers. I believe they’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

Objections arose from the press pool, and Leonidas paused to look at them.

“Would you rather I cancel the Ministers?”

Silence descended thereafter, and the press shook their collective heads, rising dutifully when he stepped down from the podium.

“Have a great day,” he said casually, and strode for the exit amid the halberd-thumps from the Aureati, while Mernyn kept pace with him, half a step behind.

“The Empire? You’re sure?” Leonidas asked when they left the room and strode down the corridor toward the palace’s main entrance. The implication that the foreign power from across the Atlantic had noticed Avalon was both good and mildly troubling, but he was determined to see if it could be turned to his benefit.

“The Aureates on duty confirmed it, Sire,” Mernyn said with a nod. “They’re being held in the bailey until you’re ready for them.”

Leonidas nodded and glanced to his left when they entered the foyer, waving warmly to a group of tourists, several of whom screamed in excitement at seeing him.

“I’ll receive them in the throne room,” he said to Mernyn decisively. “Let the tour group stay. Hell, tell the press and bring them out here. This could be good for us. It’ll show some hope that the world still exists beyond America.”

Mernyn eyed him contemplatively and smiled mirthlessly.

“Are you sure you want that pack of vultures to be what they see when they enter?”

Leonidas grinned back at him.

“Absolutely, Mernyn. They’re British. The more functional our society looks, the better.”

The Primarch shook his head and laughed quietly.

“You Terrans confuse me greatly, Your Majesty.”

Leonidas smirked.

“Don’t worry, Mernyn,” he said bracingly. “We confuse ourselves, too.”