Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 217

The Secret of Ulrich Steelheart

“A hidden door sealed with magic, leading down to an unknown basement. This bodes well,” Martell said sarcastically.

“Nick, do you know anything about this?” Connie asked.

“No, I don’t...the bastard never uttered a word about this.”

Connie did not react to the curse towards her identity’s father, as she had no attachment to the bloodline. As far as she knew, the previous Steelheart family head was indeed, a lowly man whose only claim to fame was his looks.

“There is also nothing about this in Cornelia’s memory. It seems that Geno Steelheart did not think of revealing the secret of the household to Cornelia,” Connie rubbed her chin with a sardonic smile. “The poor little girl.”

Illumca, who had been poring over the Runes for a while now, started. “This is…a Bloodline Seal. It’s a Sealing Rune that only allows those with specific bloodline to unlock it.”

Nick cautiously peered through the opened gap. “Should we…go down and check, d’ya think?”

“Of course. This is supposed to be my family’s secret, right? Only right that I have look,” Connie spoke as she started walking down the stairs. “Let’s see what skeleton the Steelheart House had in their closet.”

Illumca held aloft a Fireball as they walked down into the gloom. After a few minutes, they arrived at a dim circular chamber made of stone. Embedded into the walls were strangely coloured crystals. In front of them was an ornate door with the Steelheart sigil upon it.

Connie approached the door cautiously, and placed her hand upon the metal handle. As she did so, a spark of magic crackled from the handle, causing her to pull her hand back. The golden spark jumped from the door to the nearest crystal, and lit it up. Once it did, it jumped into another crystal and lit that one up too. Soon, the dark chamber became bright.

The golden spark then floated in the air for a few seconds where it began to shimmer before fizzling out.

They heard a click from the door. And then, with a weighty creak, the door swung open slowly.

Through the door was a large room, with a ceiling that was enough for two men to stand on top of each other. Shelves of books covered with dust and cobwebs lined every wall. Chests with gleaming jewels spilling out of their insides were placed on the ground haphazardly. Three large crystals similar to the ones they saw outside hung on the chandelier, giving the gloomy place a bit of light.

In the middle of the room was a desk and a chair, with a handful of books piled upon it.

“Oh, wow!” Nick immediately crouched down and picked up a dusty coin. “This is an old Calendian Coin. It’s got the grandfather of the current King on it!”

“This is…a Nazurag!” Akula exclaimed when she saw a large pelt on the floor. There was a painting of a fearsome mythical creature with six arms and three eyes upon it. “Your ancestor used an Azut-Baydarian art as a rug!” Seeing an art from her home country being treated so poorly, the Centaur quickly gathered the pelt and put it gently on top of a nearby pile of book.

“Sorry,” Connie said apologetically. “This seems like a place filled with trophies. I don’t think the Steelhearts before me even knew what half of it was for.”

Lihua ran her finger along the desk’s surface and rubbed the finger against her thumb. “Judging by the dust, it looks like no one’s been here for decades.”

Illumca pulled one of the books from the shelves and saw that it had pictures of Demons in it. With descriptions written in a foreign language.

As the others were looking around the secret room, Connie noticed a book placed on a pedestal behind the chair. It was bound by a thick chain to the shaft of the pedestal.

Connie blew the dust that had settled on the cover away and gave it a quick once over and saw that it had no title. What it had was the name of the owner, written on the bottom right with faded golden emboss.

“Ulrich…Steelheart.” Connie spoke the name slowly. She had read a bit about Cornelia’s ancestry from the library and knew that Ulrich was the First Head of the Duchy.

On the first page of the book, she saw a line of smooth, flowing letters where it was written:

“I, Ulrich Steelheart, Sworn Protector of the Crown, and loyal friend of the Hero King, write this memoir in order to preserve the truth of what happened on the Six-Year War. I plead to my descendants who read this memoir to pass it down to the next head of the family, so that they could keep this secret safe. Until the day when it can be revealed to the world. And I pray that when the time eventually comes, that justice will be served. And my promise to my friend is fulfilled.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous,” Connie smiled grimly as she continued flipping through the book.

The book was written by Ulrich Steelheart in the later years, about three decades after the Six-Year War, as he described in the first paragraph.

Back then, when the Kingdom of Calendia was still named Locarna. It was still just one of the medium-sized Kingdom among many that dotted the continent. At that time, Demons ran rampant there, spreading horror among the Races. In their time of need, the Goddess Junnaveil bestowed upon elderly King of Locarna, a Summoning Ritual so that they could call upon a chosen Hero that would save them from the threat of the Demons.

With the help of the Junnaveil Church, the King performed the Hero Summoning Ritual and succeeded in calling a Hero from another world. The man carried with him the Blessing of Immortality, allowing him to live even through the most grievous wound if certain conditions were fulfilled.

At that time, I was just the son of a Marquis who happened to be a trusted confidant of the old King. I had just returned from routing a Demonic invasion when he introduced the Hero to the people.

The Hero of Locarna, Aaron.

I still remember how awestruck I was when I first saw him. The man was exceedingly beautiful, like a hero straight out of fairy tales. Hair as bright as the sun, physique as strong as diamond, and eyes as blue as the cerulean sky.

The next day, the old King called upon me and asked me to be the Hero’s private guard. To teach him about this world and garner his trust.

To my delight and surprise, unlike his majestic appearance, the Hero turned out to be a humble and kind man. He was, in my view, a foreigner. Brought into a world that he did not understand.

The first few months, I taught him about the sword and etiquettes. He told me that he had never held an edge before, but took to it like fish take to water. Within a year, he had surpassed me in mastery.

Furthermore, Aaron was not just a warrior, but also a great Pianist. And every time he played the instrument; many women would gather around to swoon over him. Except for this one time, when he played a strange, cacophonous melody on the Piano that sounded like he was playing wrong notes in succession. This earned disapproving look from the ladies. When they commented about this, the man looked hurt and left without saying anything.

He never played that melody anymore after that.

On the thirteenth month after his summoning, we ventured forth under the banner of Locarna to defeat the Demons and the enslaved monsters that threatened the Kingdom. Slowly but surely, we felled the green-blooded monstrosities and regained lands that we had lost.

As we continue our campaign, freeing cities after cities from the plague of Demons and monsters, we gained new strengths in the form of trusted comrades.

The High Elf Archmage, Moira Linden Fordan. Sister of the Elven King, Elgrin Linden Fordan. Whose prowess in Spells and Runes had saved us many times.

The High Cleric and former Maiden of Water, Relena Von Weltraum. The woman who had laid her position down as the Maiden of Water to follow the Hero of Locarna.

The Dwarven Great Warrior, Orgrin. Keykeeper to Uradin’s Gate and the Dwarf who created Dauthisaz, the Legendary Armor that Aaron wore during the war.

The three of them and I joined Aaron as his core members in many battles.

Our campaign was a hard one. Thousands upon thousands of men died, only to be replaced by others. Old faces were gone, replaced by faces we barely knew. More than once, we had to fight through a throng of enemies by ourselves.

As we and Aaron got to know each other better, he told to us that Aaron was not his real name. It was a name that was given to him by the old King for the purpose of rallying troops under him, as it was the name of a famous General. His real name was James Conway.

On cold nights when the ale was good and the fire was warm, he would tell us stories about his old world. Fascinating stories about carriages with no horses, of towers made of glass, and large metal ships that could cross the sea.

He also told us that in his old world, he was not a warrior. He was an entertainer of sorts. Dancing and playing music to make ends meet. He said that the discordant melody he played that one time was something very sought after there, and it was one the only few jobs that people like him was able to get.

Before he was summoned, he also had a wife and one son. And another one still in his wife’s womb. He often worried about them, and would confess that on those lonely nights, he would pray that they would be safe.

Then, there was a crooked line on the page, as if the writer was unsure of what to put down on paper, but finally decided, as could be seen by the thick and cocksure letters on the next sentence.

Thus, in honour of my friendship with him, henceforth in this record, I will refer to him as James. As he would undoubtedly approve.

“How fascinating,” Martell said. “A record of the Hero King seen from the angle of a close friend of his.”

“Hmm…” Nick grumbled, lips pursed and brows furrowed.

“What is it?” Illumca asked.

“No, it’s just…have you noticed?” Nick tapped the table with his finger. “This book is the first time I heard the name of the First King being uttered so many times.”

“Surely not,” Akula said. “The First King of Calendia is a famous Hero! Even those of the Grasslands knows of him! There were stories told about him that dated back hundreds of years ago when he helped my ancestors to fight back the Demons!”

“Yes. But, do you know his name? Before you learned about it in that book.”

“Hmm…” Now it was Akula’s turn to frown as she struggled to think. “W-well…no. We just call him the Hero King or the Immortal King in those stories,” she paused and mumbled to herself. “Now that I think of it, I never really learned his name.”

“Right? Even that humongous statue in the middle of Courandhel, there was no name etched on the plaque. It just says ‘The First King of Calendia’,” Nick added.

“…perhaps it’s just a coincidence?” Illumca offered.

“…let’s think about it later. There are still a lot of pages to go through.”

Connie refocused her attention and continued reading.

A few years later, with the power of all Seven Heroes banding together, we managed to push the Demons back to where they came from. With that achievement, many smaller Kingdoms near Locarna capitulated to him. The old King had become frail and ailing then, and knew that he did not have long to live, so he bestowed his daughter, Eiselle Locarna, to James.

The Junnaveil Church granted him the surname Calendia. And then, with the agreement of the old King of Locarna, Locarna and all the capitulated Kingdoms were unified into one Kingdom with James as its First King.

Also, to that effect, Queen Eiselle, who had done many charitable works in the name of her Faith, proposed to let the Junnaveil Faith be the official state religion. In return to this great kindness, she was sainted by the Church.

Thus, the Kingdom of Calendia was born.

As for me, as a reward for my service to the Hero King, my peerage was raised to a Duke. And within the year, I was married to my childhood friend, Lorena Ingram.

A few months later, on the eve of the new year of 795, we managed to eradicate the last stronghold of the Demons on the shores of Calendia.

Unfortunately, we did not have the time to pat ourselves in the back. Because with the damage of the years-long war and the loss of many men, Calendia was stretched thin. The Kingdom’s coffers had been lying empty for months, and those able men who were forcefully conscripted to join the war were not there to harvest the wheat during the harvest season. Causing food to become scarce and their price rising to the sky.

Thus, a meeting was made to decide where the Kingdom would go from here. More than half of the Nobles, represented by Duke Ewyn Ordsburg, voted that they should regroup. To take this chance to heal. To stabilize the state of the new Kingdom. To mourn the many sons and daughters that had been sacrificed for the sake of the greater good.

But many of those, especially those who had seen blood, voted that they should push forward. To finish the war once and for all. The biggest proponent for this option was the Hero King himself. He knew that once they stopped, they would lose all momentum that they had painstakingly gained.

The debate went for hours with no end in sight. But the Hero King pushed on with his agenda, despite many Nobles asking for him to rethink his decision. There will still be time next year, they reasoned.

“Next year? Is that what you will say to the sacrifice of those who lost their lives for your sake?! Are you all cowards?!”

In a fit of anger, Duke Ewyn Ordsburg, blurted out.

“If we continue pushing on with our belts tightened like this, we will die anyway, My King! Unlike you, we are mortals! When we die, we stay dead!”

I remembered the look on their faces when those words were uttered. The sudden dawning on those men who were desperately clinging to their momentary peace.

A King that would never die. A Dynasty that would never end.

The Hero King was chosen as King because he was good at war. But what will happen when the war end?

At that time, I was ignorant to such things. Naïve and unlearned of the ways of politics. And now, in my old age, I regretted every single day that I did not learn more of governance. Perhaps if I have done so, I could have advised James better.

At the end, as a result of his mindless outburst, James was enraged by the Duke’s audacity, and ordered him to be jailed. His will stayed firm.

“The war continues.”

It was the decision that started us on a path of no return.