There is Something Wrong with This Game

Chapter E013 – Leon's Coronation



Chapter E013 – Leon's Coronation

The time had come for Leon to solidify his hold on the Rosenweil Kingdom.

After his swift coup, the city streets were lined with curious citizens, watching from their homes or gathered in bars and lounges, where enormous holo-screens projected the grand spectacle. Their interface window buzzed with excitement, questions, and anxiety as the coronation of their new king was broadcast across the kingdom.

A grand parade marched through the streets of Rosenweil’s capital, led by Leon, who rode atop a black steed, wearing regal armor that gleamed in the sun. His face bore an expression of stern confidence.

Behind him, banners bearing the crest of the Genesis Guild flew high, and rows of armored soldiers marched in perfect formation, their polished gear gleaming in the morning sun. These were not the familiar royal guards that once patrolled these streets; they were members of the Genesis Guild, silent and imposing. Their presence was both a show of strength and a reminder of the power shift that had taken place.

The city’s citizens watched from the sidewalks, windows, and rooftops, their faces a mixture of awe and apprehension. The coup was fresh in their minds, and while no one had been killed, the sudden change of power had thrown the city into disarray.

Small clusters of people whispered among themselves as the parade passed by.

"I can’t believe it, the king... gone just like that. And now, this Leon fellow claims the throne?"

A middle aged Native man muttered sadly.

Another Native, an elderly woman, clutching her shawl tightly, watched the parade with sad eyes.

“It wasn’t always like this... King Rasca may not have been perfect, but... a coup? By the Players, no less? How can they do this? Aren’t they supposed to be the envoys of the Goddess Norn?”

A group of children ran ahead, excited by the spectacle, one of them shouted, pointing toward Leon. 

They were amazed by Leon's dashing appearance in his armor.

"Look, look! It’s the new king! He’s like a hero from a story!"

But not everyone shared that excitement. A vendor leaning against his stall frowned deeply.

"Hero? More like a thief. Seizing the kingdom like this... Can’t trust these Players. They think they’re gods, coming down from their realm and doing whatever they want."

As the parade continued, a few of the nobles watched from the balconies of their grand estates in the noble district. Their faces drawn and pale, knowing well that this was not the orderly succession they had long expected.

Their fear was very reasonable, because just this morning, they experienced something terrible.

♦♦♦

A few hours earlier.

The noble district of Rosenweil Capital lay in an eerie silence. It was a peaceful morning, but it carried a sense of foreboding that none of the nobles could have anticipated. The district, home to the wealthiest and most influential families, had never seen such a calm disrupted in such a brutal fashion—until this day.

In the manor of Duke Alran, one of the leading noble families, soldiers flooded the hallways, while the Duke himself, along with his wife and son, were cornered in their drawing room.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Duke Alran roared, stepping forward to confront the intruders.

His voice held the authority of a man who had never been challenged.

“Do you know who I am? I demand an explanation!”

Astrid, standing tall at the entrance, tilted her head slightly, but said nothing. Fully clad in imposing Draconid armor, Astrid’s form was nearly unrecognizable beneath the dark, glimmering plates, her helmet obscuring any view of her face.

Her soldiers followed close behind, each one dressed in standard full-plate armor. They moved through the lavish halls like shadows, methodical and cold. Even the guards that had been stationed in the nobles' homes, prepared for a different kind of conflict, were no match. Some tried to resist, but Astrid herself effortlessly dispatched them with a single sweep of her sword.

The Duchess clutched her son tightly, her face pale.

“My lord, please... this is madness!”

The Duke muttered under his breath, trying to maintain control of the situation.

“They wouldn’t dare... I am a noble of Rosenweil! You cannot do this!”

But Astrid’s cold gaze said otherwise.

With a simple gesture of her armored hand, the soldiers moved forward, grabbing Duke Alran and his family. He struggled, but it was futile.

“Unhand me! I will not be treated like this in my own home!”

The young boy cried out as the soldiers reached for him and his mother.

“Papa!”

The Duchess whispered, though her voice trembled.

“It’s going to be alright, they won’t... they can’t harm us. We are of noble blood.”

But in her heart, she knew that what she said was just lying to herself out of fear. These unknown people didn't seem to care about the status of nobility.

As they were bound and blindfolded, the Duke’s voice echoed through the halls.

“This is treason! The King will hear of this! You cannot silence the nobility!”

But no one responded.

In manor after manor, the scene played out in a similar fashion. The nobles were dragged from their homes, their families in tow, blindfolded and helpless. Their words of defiance meant nothing as they were escorted out into the cold, silent streets.

Hecate would have recognized the craftsmanship of many of these weapons and armor. The glint of metal, the precise engraving along the blades, and the reinforced plating on the armor. These were the works of her and her mentor, Dalmagna, painstakingly crafted in their forge. 

As the nobles were dragged from their homes, their protests continued, though the fear in their voices grew more apparent with each passing moment.

One of the noblewomen cried as she was forced into line with her children.

“Please! We have done nothing wrong! Why are you doing this?”

A soldier roughly shoved her forward, ignoring her pleas.

The younger nobles were less vocal, but the terror in their eyes was unmistakable. They had never known such powerlessness. For all their wealth and influence, they were nothing now—mere captives at the mercy of the Genesis Guild.

The nobles were led through the secret passage hidden beneath the city’s waterway system. The damp, dark corridors only added to their mounting dread.

“This can’t be happening! The King... the King will never allow this.”

Lord Wendel muttered, another prominent noble, as he stumbled along, his hands bound behind him.

Another noble, Count Ferran, replied bitterly.

“The King is probably dead already... We’re finished.”

Eventually, they emerged within the cold, stone confines of the palace prison. The nobles were marched into the dimly lit cells, stripped of all their comforts, reduced to prisoners in their own city. As the blindfolds were removed, they blinked in the dim light, only to find themselves face to face with another figure.

A grinning werecat awaited them.

Grim, with his sharp, predatory smile, lounged in the center of the prison chamber. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement as the noble families were forced to kneel before him. The weight of their fear was palpable. He stood with a nonchalant air, his tail flicking lazily behind him as he inspected his captives.

“Welcome, I trust the journey wasn’t too unpleasant?”

Grim purred, his voice dripping with mockery.

Duke Alran, still defiant, raised his head.

“Who are you? What is the meaning of this outrage?”

Next to him, the Duchess, still tied up with rope, are trembling with fear.

She whispered with a low voice,

“What do you want from us?”

Grim chuckled.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is what happens next. It’s simple, really. You and your families are now in the service of the Genesis Guild. Your lives, your wealth, everything you hold dear... it all belongs to us now.”

Hearing such unreasonable demand, the nobles couldn't help but enraged.

Lord Wendel shouted.

“This is madness! You can’t just—”

“Oh, but we can, and we have.” 

Grim interrupted, his tone light but dangerous.

He then added, waving a hand dismissively,

“But don’t worry, I’m not unreasonable. I’m giving you a choice. You can make an oath to obey us—an oath that will ensure your continued existence in this kingdom. Or... Well, I don’t think I need to explain what will happen if you refuse.”

He paced in front of them, his grin widening as he met the terrified gaze of one of the noblemen’s sons.

Astrid stood silently in the background, her Draconid armor making her look more like an executioner than a commander. No one dared to speak to her; no one even knew her true identity.

Looking at Grim, she could only sigh deeply, thinking that playing the villain role really suited Grim.

The nobles exchanged desperate glances. Their lives, their families, their wealth—all were held hostage by these immortal Players. There was no escaping it.

“You’re monsters... You’re not human...”

The Duchess whispered, her voice barely audible.

Grim’s eyes gleamed, his tail swaying behind him like a pendulum.

“How amusing, a mere ****, saying us are not human?”

He was about to say "data" but his word were censored automatically by the system.

What happened just now was normal because the system automatically censored problematic words that could damage the immersive experience, such as revealing world secrets to Natives.

Grim didn't mind at all about this and just shrug it off.

Rather than that, he watched them, amusement dancing in his eyes as they hesitated.

“Time is ticking, I suggest you make your decision quickly.”

After a long, painful silence, Duke Alran bowed his head.

“We... we’ll take the oath.”

The others, seeing no other option, followed suit. One by one, the nobles swore their obedience to the Genesis Guild, their voices trembling as they made their vows. It was a binding oath, one that tethered them to the will of the Genesis Guild, their freedom exchanged for their survival.

Grim’s laughter echoed through the chamber as each one submitted.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

In that moment, the old order of Rosenweil was shattered. The nobility, once proud and powerful, had become pawns in Leon’s game, bound to the Genesis Guild through fear, coercion, and the unrelenting power of the immortal Players.

♦♦♦

One noble, a young woman with a stern expression, whispered to her father beside her,

“Father, what will we do now? We can’t just sit by and watch.”

Her father, an older man with a heavy frown, sighed deeply.

They have been bound by the oath of obedience to Genesis Guild and could not do anything detrimental to them. Breaking this oath would cause them to experience excruciating pain that could be worse than death.

“We have no choice for now. We must obey... until we find another way. There are others outside the city, nobles with armies. Perhaps they’ll be able to take back what’s ours.”

The only hope these nobles had left was that someone outside the capital might mount a counteroffensive. But for now, they were bound to Leon’s rule, their families and fortunes held hostage by the Genesis Guild’s brutal power.

As the parade came to an end, Leon circled back to the palace, where the grand coronation would take place. The bishop of the Church of Light, an elderly man named Bishop Darius, stood ready to canonize Leon. The cathedral bells rang solemnly in the distance as the crowd watched with bated breath.

With a formal air, the bishop stepped forward, holding a golden staff that glittered in the sunlight.

"In the name of the Goddess Norn, I canonize thee, Leon of Genesis Guild, as King of Rosenweil,"

Bishop Darius declared, placing a crown atop Leon's head.

A notification window popped up before his eyes, confirming his new status:

Spoiler
 
Congratulations!

You have been crowned King of Rosenweil. 

 
Your fame increased by 350.
You have been rewarded with 1,000 Glory Points.
You can now use the Territory Skills of Rosenweil Kingdom.
 
 
The Successful Coup D'etat!
 
Your coup was successful and the throne is yours.
However, you have overstepped the bounds of many people and

many do not welcome your rule.

The nobles of this kingdom fear you and they did not have true loyalty to you.
 
A new variable stats, Tyranny has been created.

Tyranny increased by 30.

 

[collapse]

Leon’s face bore a small smirk as he accepted the crown.

Curious about the reactions of people in the regional chat, he opened his Game UI. As he expected, the regional chat buzzed with various reactions, both support and insult:

    • Genesis Guild Member: "Congrats, King Leon! We knew you'd pull it off!"
    • Rival Guild Member: "Seizing the throne during exam week? Really? You’re such a scumbag, Leon."
    • Neutral Player: "I just hope he doesn’t mess up the economy."
    • Skeptic: "So, what’s next, Leon? Tax the hell out of us?"

Leon’s smirk grew wry. He had expected the backlash, but it was a risk he had calculated.

He ignored the comments and stepped toward the throne. The gilded seat of power, previously belonging to Rasca IV, now belonged to him. The holo-screens in various locations zoomed in on his face, now fully assuming his role as ruler. All eyes were on Leon, now adorned in royal robes, standing before the grand throne. 

With a commanding presence, Leon raised his hand to quiet the murmurs of the crowd. The weight of his declaration was about to be felt throughout the kingdom. When silence finally enveloped the room, he began.

"People of Rosenweil, Players, and Natives alike... today marks the beginning of a new era."

The crowd stood in tense anticipation, unsure of what was to come. Many Natives exchanged worried glances, still trying to comprehend the events of the day. Genesis Guild members stood tall, some grinning with pride as they watched their leader take the throne.

"For too long, this kingdom has been shackled by incompetence and waste. The former King Rasca indulged in luxury while the people suffered. The slums festered with poverty, yet he did nothing."

There was a murmur among the Natives. Those from the lower districts, who had long lived in the shadows of the wealthier districts, nodded grimly. They had seen firsthand the widening gap between the nobility and the common folk. A few even cheered in agreement, glad that someone was finally acknowledging their plight.

However, the nobles present in the palace remained silent, their faces pale and taut. They knew they had benefited from Rasca’s reign, and now they were witnessing the beginning of their fall.

"The education system, once a symbol of this kingdom's strength, has deteriorated. Commoners, who should have the opportunity to rise, are barred from entering the most esteemed institutions. The cost of tuition prevents them from attaining the first-tier Jobclasses, such as Fighter or Mage. How can a kingdom flourish when its people are denied their potential?"

A wave of murmurs rippled through the room again.

Parents, whose children had been denied access to these elite paths due to the exorbitant fees, whispered among themselves. The Players, many of whom had struggled to find a foothold in the kingdom without the benefits of high-tier training, now saw the possibility of change.

In contrast, the academy nobles shifted uncomfortably. They had controlled these educational institutions for generations, and Leon’s words felt like a threat to their established power.

"And what of the economy? The Teleportation Gates that connect us to the rest of the realm have become a burden, with fees so high that only the rich can afford them. How many of you have lost opportunities because of this? How many have been cut off from family and business due to the greed of the former regime?"

A low roar spread through the crowd.

Merchants and travelers, long frustrated by the fees, clapped in agreement. Even the commoners, who had never even dreamed of using the gates, felt a sense of injustice that Leon had articulated. His words were resonating deeply, and the divide between the classes seemed clearer than ever.

In the noble section, however, anger simmered beneath their composed exteriors. They could feel the power they had enjoyed for years slipping from their grasp. These were policies that had filled their coffers, and now they were being painted as villains.

Leon paused, letting the tension in the room rise before delivering his next line.

"No more."

His voice echoed, heavy with authority. He extended his arms as if embracing the entire kingdom.

"I am here to fix this. I will be the king this kingdom needs, not for the nobles, but for the people. Together, we will rebuild Rosenweil. Together, we will make Rosenweil great again!"

Cheers erupted from the Genesis Guild members and some of the common folk.

The phrase, "Make Rosenweil great again," spread like wildfire through the crowd and even to the people watching through the holo-screens. The sentiment was powerful—Leon was not just taking the throne; he was positioning himself as the savior of the kingdom.

"But I cannot do this alone."

Leon’s tone softened slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd, the holo-screens, and the distant onlookers in the bars and streets.

"I need your help. I need everyone’s help. Players, Natives, citizens of Rosenweil... join Genesis Guild. Together, we will reshape this kingdom. Together, we will bring prosperity to all."

Many in the audience were moved. Some Players who had felt disconnected from the ruling class were suddenly considering the offer. Natives, too, began to see the Genesis Guild not just as an invading force, but as a potential solution to their suffering.

Yet, there was still skepticism, not everyone was convinced.

The whispers of doubt began to spread through the crowd, particularly from those who wondered if Leon’s promises would actually materialize. Some feared the Genesis Guild’s dominance would bring nothing but new forms of tyranny.

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