Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story, Kirill Klevanski [great reads .TXT] 📗

enchanter with a dagger and a shimmering, turquoise sphere, as well as a couple of frightened-looking mages. In the distance stood the magus, intently examining something on his ornate mirror. The magi were said to be able not only see the future but also find out everything about whoever’s blood they smudged on its glass.

There was a summoner, too, holding a demon leashed on a chain. It looked like a dog, except that it was much larger and had two heads that could spit poison. The group was a druid, necromancer, and a healer short of completing the set. Ash figured that they were probably left behind because they weren’t combat units. Besides, an ordinary magus could easily compensate for the three of them with how many illusions he could cast.

“Welcome,” one of the guards saluted. “I’ve been given the honor of welcoming you to the king’s palace.”

“We’re still on the streets,” Racker muttered through clenched teeth. “If you don’t hurry up and let us in, you risk making me very annoyed.”

The mages became alarmed. Some lifted their weapons while others activated their artifacts and spells. Magic danced around them, often taking form of multicolored flames.

Ash raised his hand, calming them down. He feared neither the mages nor the guards, nor the king himself. He still didn’t know what fear was. “The king himself had summoned me. The entire legion had to be pulled from the front, so let’s get this done with as soon as possible.”

“Y-Yes,” the guard stammered, “o-of course...” He nodded and then shouted with a voice that didn’t sound like it was his own. “Open the gate! The general of the Seventh Legion, Baronet Nameless, has arrived!”

Chapter 26 

“T hank you.” The young man smiled as he rode his horse through the gate and breathed in the scent of the garden with “joy.” He had always “liked” this place. Serene, silent, and beautiful. He had often come here to relax and read about old and often forgotten legends.

Casting a “longing” look at the gazebo where he used to spend most of his evenings, he dismounted and handed the reins to the groom, who had bowed to greet him. With a nod, Ash hurried up the marble steps, occasionally casting quick glances at the colonnade that supported the majestic roof.

It was said that among the thirteen human kingdoms, there wasn’t a single palace more beautiful, more magnificent, and more elegant than this one. There was something almost fascinating about its thin walls, narrow columns, golden domes, and tall spires. If the legends were true, the palace had been built by both dwarves and elves. The latter certainly knew a lot about grace and otherworldly beauty.

Ash and Racker made their way through the winding, often confusing hallways to the hall in front of the throne room. A lot of people had gathered here, from the ordinary nobles to the most important officials of the kingdom. All of them lowered their gazes the moment the two rounded the corner.

“M-My lord,” stammered the majordomo as he shuffled before Ash. “His Majesty is waiting for you.”

Without waiting to be introduced, the young nobleman opened the door. Racker stayed behind, preferring to frighten the locals than to talk to the king who never seemed to have liked him.

Taking off his helmet and placing it under his left arm, Ash dropped to one knee and bowed his head like the majordomo had taught him long ago. Sitting on the throne was Garangan, who leaned to whisper something to his wife the moment the door opened and his old friend walked in.

Alessia, not as friendly toward Ash as her husband was, summoned her maids with her hand. Having fluttered over to her, they helped the queen off her throne and into the women’s wing of the palace. The queen hated Ash with all her heart, having called him a heartless executioner and a bloody maniac on several occasions. As a future mother (she was eight months pregnant) she didn’t want her child anywhere near such a monster.

“You’ll pardon my wife. She tries her best to do her duties even though she’s eight months pregnant, but even she needs rest.” Smiling wide, Garangan got to his feet and gave Ash a tight hug, ignoring the bloodied armor. “It’s good to see you alive and well, my friend!” he said, patting the young man on the shoulder.

Ash chuckled and clicked with his heels. “I left the moment I got the letter.”

Garangan nodded and gestured him to sit on the low stool next to the throne. Sitting down, Ash watched Alessia leave through a secret door on the opposite side of the room.

“Women, huh?” The king smiled. “They don’t always understand our decisions... I would’ve had more time to spend with her had my troops in Arabista remained sane and hadn’t entered Mystral.”

Ash was silent. In these kinds of situations, it was always better to listen.

“But that’s where I see your merit, my friend! How could I ever thank you? You refused all the gifts that you’ve been sent: coin, treasures, titles, and lands... What could one possibly give the man who had not only saved the king’s life but also won a great victory in his name?”

Ash pondered. To want... What does it mean? He wanted to go to the bathroom a couple of times a day. Sometimes he wanted to eat, but more often, he wanted to drink. Sometimes he was tired and wanted to rest; sometimes he’d fall asleep on the move and longed for silence. But what the king was referring to was probably something different. Something beyond the basic needs.

“Serving you, my lord, is my greatest award.” Ash bowed his head, repeating the phrase he had had learned by heart.

“Ah, if all of my subjects were like you, the Middle Kingdom would be a utopia...” The king sighed. “Since