The Lord Is Too Overbearing

While Basil and company were travelling to the land of the Demi-Human, the situation in the Braxtein Kingdom got worse—at least, from the perspective of its people. The new order that Aldrich gave to the Royal Army had killed a lot of people. Some of them were the specific group that he targeted but most of them were innocent. He didn't care about it, of course, because his main aim was controlling the people through fear.

The reason why this order was concerning was that people still got killed even if they didn't act suspiciously. All it needed for someone to be killed by the Royal Army was someone's accusation. The activity of Basil's sympathizers stopped ever since and their number significantly diminished. However, the hatred toward the King rose every day.

Aldrich knew what he was doing and was aware of the consequence. He didn't care, still, since he had made sure to rope in every powerful individual in the Kingdom who had the same way of thinking as he did and exterminated those who didn't.

Sure, it weakened the Kingdom's power temporarily but it didn't matter since he had the backing of the Empire, which his father had always refused. His position was secured, so he had nothing to worry about.

"Man…to think that many Royal Army soldiers become Mercenaries says a lot about our new King. They kill with pride, so doing what the King tells them must be excruciating for them."

"On the other hand, a lot of Mercenaries become part of the Royal Army. Those sick bastards love torturing people—they are ecstatic hearing that they can get paid while doing their hobbies."

Sitting amongst his new Party, Norman listened to the conversation quietly. They were on their way home after exploring a recently found Dungeon. The Exploration was fruitful. They got to map the entire Dungeon and found some treasures inside. They were in a good mood, which was the reason why they ran their mouth off on their Kingdom's situation.

"I bet those guys with Basil Pacifer are enjoying their lives now."

"Oi, watch your mouth, Hans. The air has ears—you don't want to die early, don't you?"

The guy named Hans chuckled nervously at his mate's warning. He had just expressed the thought that everyone had in their mind. In this period, doing so was detrimental to one's reputation. One would get a finger pointed at oneself the next day and one's head would fly away in the next moment.

Other than that concern, of course, it was because of Norman. They knew Norman's history. They were already friends with him since the founding of the now-disbanded party Hauler. Talking about Basil would remind him of the day when he had to make a hard choice. They knew he didn't regret his choice but they were sure it still pained him to recall the memory.

"I am sorry about the Dickhead's mouth. He is clueless about when to not run his mouth off on something," the guy who reminded Hans apologized to Norman.

Shaking his head with a faint smile, Norman said, "It is fine. It is not a sensitive matter. Though it is unfortunate that I can't be together with my party anymore, I am already happy. I have you guys and my wife—there is nothing more I can hope for."

"Damn, you have changed," Hans the chatterbox couldn't help but remark. "If it were you when you still didn't have a wife, I am sure you will say something along the line of 'I will find a way to reunite with them.' Am I wrong?"

"Yes." Norman nodded his head solemnly. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have a wife."

"Ah, that is true."

A smile crept up Norman's face as everyone chuckled. They immediately changed topics and talked about something mundane. Norman stayed silent most of the time but he would still throw his two cents in. When they reached home, they parted ways. Norman went to his house, meanwhile, the rest of his party went to a tavern to have a drink.

Upon reaching his house, he spent a good fifteen seconds looking at it. It was a two-storey house that neither look luxurious nor ordinary. It was big but not overly and had a cosy vibe to it. It was the house that he had bought with the money he made while he was still in the Hauler. It reminded him of his hard work and the days he spent with the problematic bunch.

Creak.

Upon opening the door of his house, he was immediately greeted by a smiling short-haired beautiful woman with a bulging belly. It was his wife, Stella, who was pregnant with his baby. Stretching his arms as he came closer, he enveloped Stella in a warm hug. The smile on her face radiated even more happiness, creating a heart-touching scene for those who might see them.

"How was the Exploration?" Stella asked.

"It was fruitful. We can get a new house for our soon-to-be-born son," Norman answered.

"There is no need for that, silly. I want to have our child on our side until he is 16—he shan't be away from mother until then."

"You sound like a controlling parent."

"You misspelt 'loving.'"

Norman shook his head as he let go of his wife. He looked into her eyes full of love, thanking the past him who had decided to visit the newly open bakery and met the woman before him there. She made his life complete. He wouldn't trade her for anything.

Letting his wife finish her job—cooking meals—he went to the bathroom and cleaned himself. The food was ready after he finished cleaning himself and they had meals together. They then went to the garden behind their house to enjoy the scenery. They talked for hours until she fell asleep in his embrace.

She carried her into the house and put her on their bed. Seeing her sleep made him sleepy but the sleepiness immediately disappeared as he heard someone knock on their door.

Spreading his Qi, he scanned the two people outside their house. His trademark scowl immediately appeared on his face but he still got down and opened the door instead of ignoring the people.

"Are we welcomed?"

"Who knows?"

"Can we come in?"

"Do I have a right to refuse?"

"No."

Huffing coldly, Norman let the two people clad in golden armour in. They looked around the house in interest, surprised at how ordinary it looked compared to how interesting the owner's personality was.

"I am a little bit disappointed that it looks normal. Since it's you, I expected it to be more…edgy. Like…you know?"

Looking at the speaker neutrally, Norman said, "Sit and talk about your purpose."

The speaker chuckled helplessly and did what he was asked. Clearing his throat, he straightforwardly stated, "The King offers you to be part of the Royal Army. He has heard the news that you have broken through to the Blue Core Stage."

"I refuse."

"You will be rewarded a lot of money—think about it."

"I already have enough money."

Scratching his head, the speaker turned to his fellow, who had been silently observing them. The said fellow didn't even bat an eyelash at him but still opened his mouth.

"Your family's safety will be guaranteed," he said, making Norman squint his eyes. "You know, some parties are not happy that Basil Pacifer's acquaintance can roam the Kingdom freely without anything to prove his loyalty to the Kingdom."

"You have eyes and ears everywhere. Has any of them told you that I am going to betray the Kingdom?"

"No, but why do we have to take a risk? Your acquaintance, Basil Pacifer is a fearsome guy. Have you heard the news? Our Emperor will mobilize every living Ninth Circle Mage to hunt him down because he killed the Rancuser's old monster."

The news of Caesar's death wasn't public yet, so Norman was surprised to hear it. His expression didn't show any change but he couldn't help clenching his fist. There was a conflicting feeling in his chest that made him proud and worry at the same time. In the end, he spent a full minute silently thinking to himself before nodding in agreement.

"I will inform my wife about this first. Go home and tell the King that I will meet him in three days."

"Good choice."

The two people immediately stood up and got out of the house. Norman saw them off but it was solely to make sure whether his house was already marked. The two people disappeared after a brief flash of light. At that moment, he figured out that his house had indeed been marked.

Creak.

He turned around as he heard the sound the floor made upon being stepped on. There, he found his wife standing while looking at him in worry. His heart clenched as he looked at the scene. He didn't question how much she had heard as he immediately enveloped her in his embrace.

"I have made my choice—we will depart tonight. I am now sure that Basil can realize what he envisions."

"Let's go."

Norman didn't stay in Braxtein because his wife asked him to; he stayed because it was the best for his wife. Now that it was proven to be no longer the case, he unhesitatingly moved out of it.

….

On the other part of the world, the Elven Empire Padeitophys, Effie watched her training party mates silently in the corner. They were training with the Elven Warriors and she always retreated whenever they did it.

Despite being a Half-Elf, something bothered her whenever she socialized with them. The nightmare from the past—the moment when the detestable Elven Elder ordered an Elven Warrior to behead her father—always came up when she was near an Elf.

Upon spending a lot of her time with the Elf, she could already tell that the Elves in her memory were part of the extreme people that didn't represent the Elf in general. Still, it was hard for her to mingle with the people associated with the people she abhorred.

"You know, there is no need for you to cover your head with your hood."

Someone's voice woke Effie from her thought. She immediately turned to the side and found Tinuviel smiling softly at her.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you…busy?"

"Ah, I have my assistant do some of my tasks for me," she answered with a gleeful smile. By 'assistant,' she meant Dantalion whom Basil entrusted to her.

"I see…"

"Anyway, I am here to apologize."

Bewildered, Effie blinked her eyes. "I am afraid I don't follow you."

"Calhoun—it was your late father's name, wasn't it?"

"…yes."

"He was an Alphoetra, you know? He was an ordinary Warrior of the Alphoetra Tribe, so it took me a while to remember him. It wasn't until I looked at this did I remember about the whole ordeal that ruined my mood for a few decades."

Ignoring the bewildered Effie, Tinuviel handed a Spatial Ring to her. "Look at it when you are alone. May not heal your wound but," Tinuviel sincerely bowed, "I want you to know that you are loved." She left with a smile after straightening herself, further bewildering the Half-Elf.

Curiosity took over Effie, causing her to take a peek. Upon seeing the content of the Spatial Ring, she almost dropped it to the ground.

Inside, she could find a welcoming message and a head of an elderly Elf. She was very familiar with the face since it belonged to the one who had ordered her father's executor to decapitate him.

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