Ch.177Coronation Ceremony (End)

Year 135 of the Amurtart Calendar.

For decades, the northern nations devoted all their efforts to recovering from the damages of war.

They rebuilt collapsed castle walls, reconstructed burned houses, retrieved escaped livestock, and plowed the fields that had turned into wastelands.

As a result, prosperity began to return to the north once more, and new lives began to fill the vacant places of those who had died.

Meanwhile, Fahrenheit gradually disappeared, and now even the grand palace that once boasted its beautiful form had returned to mere bricks and wood.

It did not take much time for a great nation with hundreds of years of history to completely vanish, nor did it require much for a person to die.

“Your last meal.”

“Hmm.”

And in the fields where everything had disappeared, where a nation once called Fahrenheit had stood, a man known as Marcus began his final meal.

Looking at where his palace once stood, taking in the sight of where his empire once existed, surveying the homeland of those once called the rulers of the north, Marcus, now dressed in white, slowly moved his hand toward his utensils.

His favorite dishes were laid out on the table, and Marcus began to empty his bowl slowly while gazing at the desolate field stretched before him.

That barren field had been filled with urban districts until just ten years ago, but soon became a ghost town, and then was demolished until nothing remained.

The field before his eyes was what remained after everything—streetlights, roads, even sewage pipes—had been removed, and the ground that had arbitrarily risen and collapsed had been flattened once again.

“Nothing remains…”

He muttered, looking at his now empty bowl, and then rose from his seat.

It was time to end the life that had continued for hundreds of years, and as the time had come to establish a new Grand Sovereign of the north, his life had to be eradicated.

He quietly knelt at the place where he would die, and soon the standard-bearer of Amurtart appeared.

“By the order of His Majesty Tiberius, Sovereign of Amurtart and Grand Sovereign of the North, I shall take your life, commoner Marcus.”

“May the angels’ blessing be upon the new Grand Sovereign.”

Marcus left his last words, and the standard-bearer, with a solemn expression, drew his sword from its scabbard in a ceremonial gesture.

Not a sword used for battle, but an execution sword used solely for beheading.

“May Amurtart be eternal.”

The standard-bearer swung his sword, and Marcus’s head flew off like straw cut by a scythe.

Whoosh… thud.

Blood flowed from the severed neck, and waiting attendants came forward to reattach the head to the body using magic.

They changed him into a shroud, cast preservation magic on the pre-made coffin, and the priests placed the body in the coffin and sealed it with nails. The coffin carrying the body of the old man who was once the Grand Sovereign was then carried away to Amurtart with the wind.

The moment when Fahrenheit completely disappeared into history and Amurtart rose as the Grand Sovereign nation was exceedingly desolate and dry.

*

The lavishly decorated palace of Amurtart.

After undergoing extensive expansion over the past few years to attain the dignity and formality of a Grand Sovereign, the palace no longer resembled its original form, and the magnificence of the palace, infused with the essence of Amurtart’s advanced materials engineering, far surpassed the grandeur of Fahrenheit’s palace.

Of course, the nation of Fahrenheit no longer existed.

“Today, we have gathered to celebrate this joyous occasion.”

The Grand Sovereign of Amurtart.

The ruler of the north.

The absolute and sole living deity who ruled the Pearl of the North raised his glass and spoke.

“Among the many representatives gathered here, half would have fought alongside me, and half would have fought against me. But that is all in the past. By the authority of the Grand Sovereign, I shall settle the grudges of days gone by, and you shall be without sin.”

“””Long live His Majesty the Grand Sovereign!”””

The representatives of the surviving nations, absolved of their sins, raised their glasses high, marveling at the Grand Sovereign’s mercy.

Now there was only one ruler in the north, and his name was Amurtart, and its ruler was Tiberius von Adler.

“Today! We welcome a new era! No longer will there be those subjugated in this world, but those who have gained freedom will carve out their future with their own hands! Things unimaginable will become reality through machinery and technology, and the impossible will become possible. Together, we shall turn this north into the brightest light of the continent!”

“””Amurtart! Amurtart! Amurtart!”””

“A toast to the victors! A toast to the survivors!”

With the sound of glasses clinking, the banquet began.

The representatives gathered at the palace of Amurtart on the eve of the coronation enjoyed wine and meat as if to forget the difficult reconstruction work and the war that had taken so much, and music did not cease in the palace all night long.

And when the day of the coronation finally arrived, the representatives of each nation refined their attire and restored their reddened faces to whiteness so as not to be late, and then lined up in the long corridor for the one who would be today’s protagonist.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

With a thunderous knocking on the door, the master of Amurtart revealed himself.

“The master of Amurtart and Grand Sovereign of the North, His Majesty Tiberius von Adler, enters!”

*

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The representatives watched without blinking as the long coat tails and the attendants holding them so they wouldn’t touch the floor passed by.

In an atmosphere so majestic it took one’s breath away, so dignified one couldn’t look away, and so solemn one couldn’t move, Tiberius sat on his newly forged throne, and the attendants released his coat tails and withdrew.

Following him were the Cardinal who oversaw all the dioceses of the Amurtart Empire and the Pope dispatched from the central authority.

“Your Holiness, this is the Grand Sovereign of Amurtart who unified the north, His Majesty Tiberius von Adler.”

“Your Majesty Tiberius, I am pleased to meet you for the first time. I am the Pope of the Order, and I have come to see if Your Majesty is truly worthy of ascending to the throne of the Grand Sovereign.”

The Cardinal and the Pope bowed in respect, and Tiberius raised his scepter.

The Grand Sovereign was the ruler of the north, and that meant he was the protector of the north, so one with a spirit too weak to protect the north was not qualified to ascend to the throne of the Grand Sovereign.

The Pope recited an incantation, approached the Grand Sovereign to anoint him with holy oil, and then recited a prayer together with the Cardinal.

“Archangels who stand in the court of angels. We are here to celebrate the ascension of the Grand Sovereign in this glorious place. Please bestow your wisdom upon us and reveal whether this one human, who will become the master of the north, is worthy.”

As the prayer ended, the clouds parted and sunlight entered through the windows, and the beams of light bent toward the Grand Sovereign.

However, the light beams were chaotically reflected before the Grand Sovereign’s throne, filling everywhere except the Grand Sovereign with light, which was evidence that his soul was so strong that it even rejected the blessing of angels.

The representatives and clergy marveled at this small miracle, and after exchanging ceremonial pleasantries, the coronation of the Grand Sovereign was held.

“We acknowledge the Grand Sovereign blessed by the angels, all rise!”

Snap!

Like soldiers, the representatives of each nation rose in unison, and the Grand Sovereign, seated on his throne, looked around the assembly and spoke.

“As of this hour, I declare that Amurtart has become the nation representing the entire north. Also, as the master of Amurtart and the protector of the north, I will perform this sacred duty until this soul exhales its last breath. If there is anyone who cannot acknowledge this, raise your hand.”

No one raised their hand.

“I ask you, do you truly wish for me to ascend to the throne of the Grand Sovereign and for your future to be spread under the shadow of Amurtart? If there is anyone who does not wish this, raise your hand.”

No one raised their hand.

“I will ask one last time. If there is anyone who thinks that I am not qualified to be the Grand Sovereign, and that Amurtart does not have the authority to be the representative of the north, raise your hand.”

No one raised their hand.

“I tell you this. As of this hour, Amurtart as a sovereign nation has perished, and Amurtart as a Grand Sovereign nation has been newly born. Let those who are near rejoice! Let those who are far be glad! May today be the first year of the Amurtart calendar, year 1!”

“””Long live Amurtart!”””

And with a thunderous cheer, 135 years of history gave way to the weight of 1 year.

It was the moment when the northern land changed forever.