Upon hearing the request of his greatest contributor, Basil sank into thought upon his throne.
According to the rumors surrounding Nils, the man was supposedly a greedy beast consumed by ambition and lust for power.
So why was he voluntarily withdrawing from the center of authority?
Could the rumors be false?
Was Nils actually a rare loyal servant, forced into everything he had done?
Basil cast a cold glance toward a middle-aged eunuch standing in the corner of the hall, suspecting failures within the intelligence apparatus.
The eunuch immediately broke into a cold sweat.
At this moment, Basil faced a difficult choice.
If Nils truly was loyal, allowing him to retire meant the Empire would lose its most capable commander.
Throughout the war, Nils had commanded more than ten thousand hastily assembled mercenaries, pinned down the main Bulgarian forces for an extended period, and won decisive victories despite being outnumbered.
His command ability far surpassed that of most Greek generals.
He belonged in the same category as history's truly exceptional commanders.
And conquering Bulgaria was not the end.
The Arabs in the east remained powerful. Another major war was inevitable.
The ideal arrangement would be for Basil and Nils to each command an army:
one side tying down the enemy while the other struck weak points—
repeating their Bulgarian success.
But what if the rumors were true?
Nils had betrayed Ragnar. Betrayed Ubbe.
If greed and ambition truly lurked beneath his calm exterior, then keeping such a man close would sooner or later lead to rebellion.
Promote him?
Eliminate him?
Or let him retire and quietly sideline him forever?
The first option carried enormous risk.
Basil himself had seized power through a coup. More than anyone else, he feared another man using the same method against him.
After long deliberation, he chose to follow his original instinct:
replace Nils with some simple-minded barbarian as commander of the Varangian Guard.
As for killing him—
that was impossible as well.
Nils had rendered extraordinary service and behaved with perfect restraint. He had never crossed the line.
Basil lacked any legitimate excuse to execute him.
And if he acted by force, the empire's provincial generals would inevitably become terrified.
After thinking for a long time, Basil realized he had little choice.
His gaze moved slowly across the map before stopping at a ruined harbor in southern Crimea—Sudakso—along with the surrounding territory.
He granted the land to Nils as a hereditary fief.
Nils and the retired Varangians would settle there, multiply, and provide the Empire with a steady stream of elite heavy infantry.
Moreover, Crimea frequently suffered raids from nomadic tribes.
Allowing retired Varangians to settle there would also reduce the defensive burden on Chersonesos, the largest Greek city in the southwestern peninsula.
"Thank you for Your Majesty's generosity."
Nils bowed respectfully and surrendered the seal representing command authority over the Guard.
Inside, however, he felt an indescribable emptiness.
But he had no alternative either.
As early as the coup itself, he had already noticed abnormalities within the Guard.
By his estimate, among the twenty centurions, at least three were Basil's informants.
After Basil ascended the throne, his control over the Empire deepened with every passing day.
More and more spies had been planted inside the Guard.
Nils now possessed almost no secrets whatsoever.
The mercenaries were even less reliable.
They respected his battlefield achievements—
that did not mean they would fight for him.
If Basil offered a suitable price, half of them would probably switch sides on the spot.
After personally drafting the imperial decree, Basil stamped it with the imperial seal and said with genuine regret:
"You are the most capable general I have ever met. I truly hate to let you go."
Strangely, hearing such praise only made Nils more melancholy.
"Command ability is not some inborn talent.
"It is the lesson learned from decades of war.
"I was born into a peasant family in rural Sweden. My uncle Ragnar raised me personally. He taught me swordsmanship and archery, and I followed him across the world—raiding and fighting.
"At first, shield walls were the only tactic we knew. Battles depended entirely on personal courage.
"But after endless wars, my brothers and I gradually learned from experience—and from one another.
"That is how we became what we are today."
Looking back on his life, Nils still believed the happiest years he ever lived were under Ragnar's banner.
Unfortunately, every person possessed desires of their own.
Ivar. Gunnar. Vig. Himself. Bjorn. Thora. Aslaug.
Internal conflicts never ceased.
And in the end, they destroyed the Viking golden age with their own hands.
Modern Britain appeared powerful—
but in Nils's eyes, it had already drifted away from the old traditions.
It was no longer a true Viking realm.
"The beautiful age is gone.
"And the saddest part is that we destroyed it ourselves.
"Heh… I wish time had frozen back then."
March.
The Eastern Roman army returned to the outskirts of Constantinople.
The soldiers remained awake through the night polishing armor, organizing captured banners and weapons, and loading spoils onto carts.
At dawn the next day, horns sounded throughout the city.
The Golden Gate in the western wall slowly opened through the labor of men and machinery.
The gate was not literally made of gold.
It symbolized glory and imperial authority, reserved exclusively for emperors and victorious armies.
The first to enter were the clergy.
Then came wagons carrying spoils and prisoners.
After that marched the various Eastern Roman armies.
Because of their extraordinary achievements, the Varangian Guard marched ahead of the allied forces.
Nils rode a white horse, wearing a magnificent cloak.
His armor gleamed beneath the March sunlight as he accepted the roaring cheers of the populace with an expressionless face.
Behind him marched rows of heavily armored Varangian warriors.
The brutal appearance of their two-handed axes drew endless gasps of amazement from the crowds.
The remaining armies followed behind.
And when the emperor's chariot finally passed through the Golden Gate, the cheers reached their peak.
The emperor stood atop a luxurious chariot drawn by four pure white horses.
The gilded vehicle glittered with gemstones.
Draped in imperial purple, Basil stood proudly upright—
holding an orb topped with a cross in one hand while waving to the populace with the other.
Beside him stood a eunuch.
According to tradition, the eunuch held a golden laurel crown above the emperor's head while repeatedly whispering:
"You are still only a mortal man."
The emperor ignored him completely.
All he heard was the endless praise of the people.
Flower petals rained down from buildings lining the streets while merchants seized the opportunity to sell commemorative goods and special "victory bread."
The triumphal procession advanced eastward along the Mese, Constantinople's grandest and most sacred avenue.
Whenever they passed major landmarks such as the Forum of Theodosius, the procession paused briefly.
Eventually they arrived at the final destination of the triumph:
Hagia Sophia.
The emperor, generals, and selected decorated soldiers participated in the ceremony there.
At two in the afternoon, Basil appeared in the Hippodrome.
Following custom, he executed one captive before publicly pardoning the remaining prisoners to demonstrate imperial mercy.
Then came the grand chariot races.
That night, the imperial palace hosted an extravagantly lavish banquet.
Nils endured endless conversations with nobles and officials around him.
Only after the feast finally ended did he leave the palace in exhaustion.
Even then, the entire city remained immersed in celebration.
Taverns overflowed with people.
Street performers reenacted scenes of victory.
Drunken revelers wandered the roads praising the emperor's glorious triumph.
Nils ignored them all.
This excitement belonged to the Greeks.
All he wanted was to leave this place behind and spend the rest of his life in the quiet peace of the countryside.
—------------------------------
Pat reon Advance Chapters: patreon.com/YonkoSlayer