Eugene Wish - The King is dead, long live the King!

On the streets of the city there were dozens of killed mages of light, including Philus the Longnose. Neil the Panic went missing. The disloyal warriors of Kannassis, members of the Sequarium and ordinary citizens fled, saving their own skin. Darkness and horror reigned in the devastated city.

After the coup and a small civil war in Igoul Fort, the demoralization of the Empire forces, and as a result of the further collapse of the army, the country began to crumble into pieces.

The separatists announced the abolition of the feudal muniment due to the consolidation of power in the capital. Within a month, Kannassis broke up into separate principalities and counties: Sluvonia, Frax, Kell, Born, Nurn, Veronia, Ikkelia (one of the branches of the imperial dynasty ruled there) and other smaller ones ruled by military dictators – warlords of the disintegrated army.

Sluvonia was first led by warlord Fremont, though he was quickly overthrown by the tribal leader of the Sluvonians, Drogomysl the Brave, who later declared himself the king. In Veronia, local merchant oligarchs came to power, who began to sell government posts as quick as a flash.

Born and Nurn were also led by the tribal leaders and the wizards. Hordes of stern northern barbarians moved south to devastate the rich lands of Veronia and Ikkelia.

Other barbarians – Fraxes and Kells – entered into a bloody war among themselves. From the very first days of the fragmentation, Ikkelia lodged its claims for the former Kannassian lands. Two weeks later, the Ikkelian troops subjugated Veronia, Nurn and Born. Then, after a couple of days, Orond III, the prince of Ikkelia, declared himself the emperor, and turned the principality into an empire. In all the conquered lands, the flags of the old empire were torn down and the new ones were hung – a white eagle on a blue background.

The promotion of the Ikkelians to the east was prevented by the duchies of Frisalia, Algos and Rovelia. The latter was the possession of Rovel the Swamp, the marshal of Kannassis. Once he got very angry with the emperor for transferring the Swamp Lands to his estate.

And now, by the will of the gods, as he believed, he seized the rich land of many small feudal lords and declared himself a despot, like the great Erlins of the past.

Frisalia didn’t allow Ikkelia to conquer new lands because of its own political ambitions, the struggle in the wine market and the disputes among dynasties. This duchy was also ruled by members of a small branch of the imperial family. In addition, they had an excellent army of pikemen and archers. This army was as powerful as the Ikkelian one, and in some points it was even better.

Algos – the southwestern region on the map – was a quiet and calm land of horse breeders and peasants. They didn’t get involved in the intrigues of the imperial house, but in case of danger, they could repulse with their victorious cavalry. They recaptured the forces of Ikkelia and Frisalia, and the governor of Algos, Norbert the Bold, even declared himself the king.

– Your Grace, we have serious issues in the country, – Azolius said nervously.

– And what seems to be the problem? – the emperor inquired almost indifferently.

– Your power is bursting at the seams! Ikkelia, Frisalia, Rovelia, Frax… They all rebelled.

– Enough! – the king interrupted the servant in exasperation.

– I don’t care about all these meaningless names. Just gather the army and drown it all in blood.

The king’s face became serious, stony and cruel.

Azolius went silent for a few seconds, but then he said timidly: «But, my lord, the army of Kannassis fell to pieces and scattered away in every possible direction…»

The eyes of the monarch became bloodshot, sharp fangs appeared instead of his teeth. Majordomo trembled in awe in the face of the witch king.

«I’m telling you one more time, gather the remains of these coward rats and win me back my lands!!!» – the sovereign yelled furiously, crushing a steel glass with wine. Azolius squeaked pitifully and fell down to the rageful monarch’s feet.

«There, there, keep calm, Your Highness, – started talking stern and stout Elmore Parl. -We will help you to get back the power you’ve lost..» – I’m really curious how are you going to do that? – asked Conrad. – With blood magic it is possible to summon thousands warriors of the Darkness from the Underworld… – Whose blood? – Conrad set another question. – A drop of your blood and some from your servants. – explained Elmore with a malicious smile on his face. – Deal, – agreed the king, offering his hand to the sorcerer, who took a tight grip of it, protracting his sharp claws to get a bit of king’s blood and put it in a vessel right away.

– And now go on! For the blood of the peasants! – Elmore ordered his warlocks.

The city was shuddering from the screams and moans of citizens. The executioners were tirelessly slaughtering poor innocent people, while dark magicians were meticulously gathering the vital power of the slain. By the end of the day, the big magic cauldron was full, and all they had to do was to add the king’s blood.

Elmore performed the last parts of the ritual, together with his bewitched followers made the necessary manipulations with his hands and words. Blood in the cauldron began to boil, hiss, and after that blackened. The black liquid quickly evaporated, and faceless spirits began to fly out of this hellish smoke. It was a race of the Faceless – the inhabitants of the Underworld. The last to appear was the leader of the demons – the Blackmouth.

– The Faceless Army is at your service, My Lord! – it was heard from the visor of the demon leader.

– What can kill them? – The king snapped coldly.

– Cutting off the upper spiritual node – the head, – answered the Blackmouth.

– Forge strong armour for these tender butterflies, – snapped the king. Chief blacksmith Marlon Bon politely bowed and went to work. A few days later the army left the castle. It quickly subjugated the city and moved forward without any rest to conquer the vast expanses of a decaying empire.

Fire and blood overflew the country. From now on Kannassis was called Yorengoth, «the Crimson Land’. The eyes of this state were fixed on south and east. Two months later Sluvonia, Swamp Lands and all eastern lands till the lake Orkhting were invaded. Although soon forceful Fraxes and mighty Kells stood up to Yorengoth. These half-barbarians were bold and even reckless in the battle. For these skill they were traditionally admired by kings of the past. For some time Yorengoth was clamped between Frax and Frisalia, but that was the result of only one crusade. The Great War had only begun.

A month after the battle Glorian and his colleagues appeared to be about a gund (approximately 10 kilometers) from Felaya, the capital of Ikkelia. Here prevailed peace and order, the knights were walking leisurely with the ladies, they were being baptized and building greenhouses, the shepherds were tending cattle, the mills were spinning, to put it all together – everything was in place.

Earlier the picture outside the window was much gloomier. While passing through the royal domain and Rovelia, Glorian saw crowds of agitated soldiers and peasants. Some in a hurry were gathering their last belongings, slaughtering their cattle and loading it into their buckboards, others galloped in every possible direction, someone was injured and even killed. Sequators with the people of faith were making the sacred procession from one church of the Holy Trinity to another, praying for peace. Also was gathering Home Guard, men from 16 to 50 years old. All of them were scared and their faces looked darker than the thunderclouds above them. Soon, a line of carriages began to climb uphill to the gates of Felaya.