Chapter 5: Memories of a Fallen Emperor
The sun had risen, and the bar was already loud with chatter and clinking glasses.
Rudravaan slowly opened his eyes, irritated. "You'd think I'd be used to this noise by now,"
he muttered, dragging himself upright. He sat on the bed, glanced around—and noticed the boy was gone.
"Hey! Brat, where are you?" Rudravaan shouted.
"I'm not a brat!" came the reply. "I'm bathing!"
Rudravaan sighed, grabbed his sword, and went downstairs. The bartender greeted him, "Oh, you're finally awake."
"How can anyone sleep in this noise?" Rudravaan grumbled.
The bartender leaned closer. "It's just for a few days. You know what I'm talking about, right?"
Rudravaan gave a silent nod.
"Look," the bartender continued, "I know I'm asking a lot, but… if you help us with your strength, we can win this."
Rudravaan suddenly raised his voice. "Hey! Bring me the strongest drink you have!"
The bar fell silent. Everyone froze. Rudravaan glared around. "What? Didn't you hear me?"
The boy came down the stairs, watching from above. One of the bartenders stammered, "Y-Yes, sir! We'll bring our strongest wine!"
Rudravaan exhaled deeply, his tone softening. "I just crawled out of one hell of a battle. Didn't mean to shout—it's just... old memories. But yeah, if things get bad, you can count on me."
The bartender smiled, relieved.
When the drink arrived, Rudravaan stared into the bottle with quiet anger before taking a slow sip. Then he stood. "I've got something to take care of. I'm heading out."
The boy followed him silently, noticing the tension in Rudravaan's face. After a while, he gathered his courage. "Why are you angry?"
Rudravaan turned, eyes narrowing. "I'm not angry. It's just—ugh, why am I even explaining this to you?" He walked on.
"Hey! Finish what you were saying!" the boy called, hurrying after him.
Rudravaan stopped. "Even if I told you, would you understand?"
"If you don't tell me, I'll never understand," the boy replied firmly.
Rudravaan gave a tired laugh. "Alright then. You want to know? Fine."
They came upon a tall tree surrounded by grass. Rudravaan pointed at it. "Let's sit there. I'll tell you everything."
They sat beneath the shade. Rudravaan took a sip from his bottle and began.
"Well… where do I start? I came from Southeast Kingdom."
The boy's eyes widened. "Wait—the same kingdom that was attacked by several others?"
Rudravaan smiled faintly. "That's the one. The kingdom where many nations forged an alliance just to bring it down."
"Then how are you still alive?" the boy asked.
"Slow down," Rudravaan chuckled. "You can't just skip to the ending."
He lifted his bottle slightly, took another sip, and gazed into the distance.
"My kingdom had everything. People had forgotten hunger. No one cried. There was peace, laughter in the streets, families shopping together. But I knew it wouldn't last forever."
His face darkened. "When the alliance came, I stood at the frontlines with my soldiers. I helped my people escape through a hidden tunnel—gave each a place to hide. I fought many kingdoms and survived only because I was strong. But my soldiers... my people who couldn't escape…"
He clenched his fist. "I stood there, watching them scream in agony. All I could do was end their suffering quickly."
Rudravaan took a long drink. His eyes glistened. He furiously wiped away the tears. "Then I blacked out. Thought I was dead. But when I woke, my soldiers and people were around me, happy that I lived. Still, I couldn't bring myself to smile again. The war broke something inside me. So I left—to find peace, or maybe to remember who I was."
The boy listened in silence, stunned.
"You…" he finally said. "You're the Emperor Rudravaan?"
Rudravaan chuckled, glancing at him. "What, you gonna start calling me 'Emperor' now, brat?"
"I'm not a brat!" the boy snapped. "I have a name—Henry!"
Rudravaan smirked. "Oh? Now that I think about it, that's the first time you've told me your name."
Rudravaan leaned back against the tree, exhaling deeply. "Thanks, Henry. Now I feel like I've dropped some weight off my shoulders." He pushed himself up, brushing the grass from his clothes. "Shall we head back to the bar?"
Henry grinned, standing beside him. "Now you're calling me by my name, huh?"
Rudravaan smirked. "Yeah, don't get used to it."
Henry laughed. "Too late, old man."
Rudravaan gave Henry a mock glare, and the two started down the dirt path toward the bar. The evening sun dipped behind the horizon, painting the sky in fading shades of orange and red.
As they approached the bar, faint shouting and the clash of metal reached their ears. Rudravaan's steps slowed, his eyes narrowing.
"That's coming from the bar," he muttered.
They broke into a run. When they arrived, chaos had already taken over — overturned chairs, broken glass, and men shouting in panic. A group of armed thugs rampaged inside, cutting down anyone who resisted.
The bartender spotted Rudravaan and shouted, "Finally, you've come! Help us—!"
Before he could finish, one of the attackers appeared behind him and swung his blade. The bartender screamed as his arm was severed, collapsing to the floor.
Rudravaan froze for an instant. Then, his expression shifted — the calmness in his eyes vanished, replaced by cold fury. He drew his sword in a single motion.
The air grew still. A suffocating wave of killing intent spread through the room, thick enough to make everyone tremble. A faint red glow flickered around Rudravaan, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The attackers hesitated. One of them stammered, "M-monster…"
Before they could move, Rudravaan swung his sword through the air. The motion looked almost lazy, but a deep sound split the silence — and the men fell where they stood, cleanly cut in half.
The room fell silent again. The only sound was the bartender's ragged breathing. Henry stood frozen at the doorway, staring wide-eyed at Rudravaan, unable to move.
Rudravaan sheathed his sword, walked over, and crouched beside the bartender. "Hold still," he said quietly, pressing down on the wound to stop the bleeding. "You'll live."
The bartender nodded shakily, too stunned to speak.
Rudravaan let out a slow sigh and sat down on a broken chair. "Who were they?"
"Kingdom guards," the bartender managed to say.
"Guards? Then why aren't they wearing uniforms?"
The bartender's face twisted with anger. "Because the kingdom's rotten to the core. Even the guards are collecting protection fees now."
Rudravaan's brow furrowed. "How long has it been like this?"
"Ever since I can remember," the bartender replied bitterly.
Rudravaan's gaze darkened. "So when does the rebellion start? You mentioned one before."
The bartender clenched his fist. "We kept waiting for the right moment... but it's too late for that now. Tomorrow, we'll make them pay. The streets will run red with the kingdom's blood."
Rudravaan stood, gripping his sword. "Good. Then start your preparations."
He glanced around the wrecked bar. "Where's Fenlor? If he were here, he wouldn't have let this happen."
"He's been out recruiting fighters for the rebellion," the bartender said.
Rudravaan nodded. Then, noticing Henry still sitting frozen on the floor, he called out, "Hey, Henry! How long are you going to sit there?"
Henry blinked and quickly got to his feet. "What do we do now?"
Rudravaan exhaled softly, a faint smirk forming on his face. "Tomorrow's going to be a festival," he said. "So get ready for it."