Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 817: The Son of Heaven

CH817 The Son of Heaven

***

Fonterra Bastide, Frontier March Domain, Celahan Empire

The streets of the bastide were especially lively.

It was probably the busiest they had been at this time of year for many decades.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen our town so full of life, especially during beast tide season,” one man remarked as he bought food from a street stall.

“We have the Domain Lord leading the army to fight off the beasts to thank for this peace,” the stall owner replied. “It’s almost as if there isn’t a beast tide going on at all.”

“Didn’t you hear?” a passer-by suddenly interjected.

“Hear what?” the first man asked.

“The beast tide is over,” the passer-by revealed.

“What?”

Both the stall owner and the customer stared at him in surprise.

“How did that happen? Doesn’t a beast tide usually last a couple of weeks to a month? Did the beasts retreat?” the stall owner asked.

“No, of course not.” The passer-by shook his head.

“Did the army defeat them? Already?” the first man asked.

“Yes… and no,” the passer-by replied. “It was the Domain Lord who ended it.”

“The Domain Lord?”

The stall owner and the first man echoed in disbelief.

“I heard it from my cousin in the army. When the Berserk Beasts nearly broke through the walls at Ashwell, the Count became enraged and personally went out to hunt them.”

The stall owner immediately pulled out a stool for the passer-by to sit on, while the first man signalled for him to serve their storyteller a plate of food as well.

The passer-by nodded gratefully, took his seat, and continued.

“When the Count saw the injuries suffered by our soldiers on the battlefield, he became so furious that thunderous dark clouds filled the heavens themselves, as though reflecting his wrath.

“The Count sprinted up the outer walls in an instant, and lightning from the heavens pointed the way towards the direction of the gathering beasts.

“Without the slightest hesitation, the Count leapt from the wall—more than ten metres high—and pursued the beasts with righteous fury.

“Not long afterwards, the army witnessed bolt after bolt of golden lightning striking the wilderness, just like the golden dragon the Count summoned when he first arrived in our domain.”

“For more than half an hour, the heavens rained the Count’s fury upon the beasts, from Ashwell all the way west to the Rotbark River, where the beasts gathered.

“When the Count returned and ordered the soldiers to clear the battlefield, they finally understood why he hadn’t wanted to fight personally in the first place. His power was simply too great. It would have devastated the entire area.

“The land stretching from Ashwell to the Rotbark River was covered in fissures and scars, while the earth was soaked in beast blood as far as the eye could see.

“The beasts have all fled beyond Ashwell’s eastern mountain and have shown no signs of returning.”

“Our Count chased every last one of them away.”

The passer-by finished the last mouthful of grain from his plate.

The stall owner and his customer looked at him with expressions of shock and awe.

Everything he had described sounded more like legend than reality.

“Where is the Count now? Is he still at the front?” the customer suddenly asked.

“No.” The passer-by shook his head. “The Count has already returned to Fonterra. Although he personally went out to vanquish the beasts, our Domain Lord was deeply affected by what happened. He’s locked himself away in his room ever since. They say only the highest-ranking officials within the domain can get an audience with him now.”

The passer-by lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“I’ve heard rumours from friends in the Ministry of the Interior that the lord has been pushing the Finance Department to finalise a policy to support the families of soldiers, especially those who died fighting the Berserk Beasts.

“I believe that’s what the Count has been working on behind closed doors.”

“Wow…”

The customer’s eyes lit up.

“If that’s true, then our Domain Lord isn’t just powerful. He’s also generous and genuinely cares about the people of his domain.”

“Is that really so surprising?” the passer-by replied with a shrug. “Don’t forget, he’s an inheritor of House Skywalker. Even lowly peasants like us still remember the reputation of House Skywalker, despite it having fallen over a century ago.”

“House Skywalker has always been known as a powerful and benevolent noble house. Their prestige was considered second only to that of the Imperial Family itself. Even after a century, countless people still hold the House in the highest regard.

“If you ask me, this is exactly what should be expected from someone descended from such a prestigious noble lineage. He shouldn’t be lumped together with the trash that governed our domain in the past.”

The customer and the stall owner exchanged glances.

The stall owner nodded firmly.

“You’re right. Sir Count is a true noble, unlike those pieces of trash from the past. In fact, merely comparing them to Sir Count is an insult to him.

“Look at me. I was once a beggar, but ever since Sir Count took over and established the Industrial District, I was able to earn enough money to start my own stall. The Ministry of Trade and Commerce has even visited me several times to ask whether I’m facing any problems and how they can help. Apparently, it’s a policy personally introduced by Sir Count to support small businesses like mine.”

“You’re not the only one,” the customer added with a smile. “These days, as long as someone is willing to work, they can escape the hardships of the past and begin building a new life for themselves.

“Just look at me. I’m a vagabond from outside the domain. Before I followed the Count’s convoy to this frontier, I didn’t have a home or anything to my name. But now I work at one of the alchemical factories here in Fonterra.

“You know the Mana Cement that’s making waves across the domain? I work at the factory that produces one of the reagents needed to make it.

“Thanks to that job, I can now afford to buy whatever food I want, whenever I want. I even have a roof over my head now, and I recently bought a bicycle.”

“A bicycle, you know it, right?” the customer continued, unable to hide a hint of pride. “It’s the new mode of transport the domain introduced for those of us working in the Industrial District. It makes travelling to and from work so much easier and faster.”

Expectedly, the passer-by and the stall owner looked at him with undisguised envy.

“I heard rumours that the domain has carriages that can move without horses or any other mounts. Is that true?” the passer-by asked eagerly.

“Yes,” the customer confirmed. “They’re called Mana Mobiles—or something like that. We just call them magic carriages. Apparently, they somehow use sorcery to tap the free energy around us, to power themselves. I also heard they don’t jolt and rock about like ordinary carriages while travelling.

“Unfortunately, most of the mana carriages are currently reserved for the Ministry of Trade and Commerce and the Domain Army on official business—mainly logistics, though they’re also used to transport high-ranking officials from time to time.”

After thinking for a moment, he added, “But I’ve heard they’ll be producing more of them soon. If we’re lucky, it won’t be long before they’re available for ordinary people to buy.”

“They won’t be cheap, will they?” the stall owner asked.

“I don’t know.” The customer shrugged. “But they should definitely cost more than an ordinary carriage.”

The stall owner chuckled wryly.

“I’m still a long way from being able to afford a normal carriage.”

“Then you should probably give up on owning a magic carriage any time soon,” the customer quipped.

The three men continued chatting and joking for a while before a new customer approached the stall.

Reluctantly, they parted ways and returned to their respective businesses.

What neither the stall owner nor the customer realised was that the passer-by was not merely a random traveller spreading rumours.

He was, in fact, an agent of the Ministry of Information (and Propaganda).

His duty was naturally to spread the domain administration’s intended narrative throughout the Frontier March.

Nor was he alone.

Similar agents were scattered across all three towns within the domain, carrying out the very same task.

Although they numbered only a tiny fraction of the Frontier March’s overall population, their presence was more than sufficient.

Once these agents set the story in motion, the people themselves took care of spreading it to everyone else.

Before long, countless rumours about what had happened in Ashwell Town—and why the beast tide had ended so abruptly—spread throughout the domain, each version becoming more outlandish than the last.

In some tales, Count Skywalker, the hero of the story, became a giant with three heads and six arms, calling down bolts of heavenly lightning upon the Berserk Beasts.

In others, he was a Saint descended from the heavens themselves to deliver divine punishment upon the mongrel beasts that had brought suffering and misery to the people of the Frontier March.

The stories differed wildly from one another.

Yet, surprisingly, there was one detail that remained consistent regardless of the version being told.

Entirely unintended by the agents of the Ministry of Information and Propaganda, the people had bestowed Count Skywalker with a new title.

No matter how exaggerated or distorted the stories became as they spread from person to person, that title remained unchanged.

Son of Heaven.

Or more accurately…

Legatee of the Heavens.

Had Alex known of this, he would have been utterly stunned.

The title was simply too fitting to dismiss as mere coincidence.

Alas, while all of this was unfolding, he remained unconscious, completely unaware that the title had already taken root among the people of his domain.

Within the Domain Lord’s Manor in Fonterra, Alex slept with an almost deathly stillness in the manor’s master bedroom.

Beside him, two women kept a constant vigil, their expressions filled with worry.

It had been over a week since the battle against the Tribulation Doppelganger.

Although Alex’s body appeared to have recovered—well, as much as anyone could reasonably expect—the young lord had yet to awaken from his deep slumber.

All his wives could do was let him rest while they shouldered the burdens of governing the domain in his stead.

So far, they had only just managed to conceal their anxiety from Alex’s retainers.

However, as the days dragged on, doing so became increasingly difficult.

Fortunately, just as their worries were reaching their peak, the eyes of the man whom the people had begun calling the Son of Heaven—Count Skywalker—suddenly snapped open.

However, instead of the familiar gem-like ruby-red eyes, only a pair of dull grey irises stared back.

“Groan~”

Alex let out a low groan as he tried to sit up, only to find that his body refused to obey him.

With immense effort, he managed to force himself into a seated position.

Yet that was the least of his concerns.

‘As expected… I can’t see…’

***