Heaven's Favor
The lavish court of the Drake Kingdom shone under morning light.
Golden beams streamed through tall crystal windows, dispersing on shiny marble floors and gilded pillars adorned with dragons and phoenixes. The expansive hall was thick with incense, the air heavy with reverence and tension.
Ranks of generals and ministers stood in their assigned ranks, cloaked in rich black and crimson, heads bowed before the Imperial Throne—upon which Lucian Drake sat enrobed in his resplendent Imperial robe, purple eyes shining under the soft light of morning.
Whispers of the Ironforge catastrophe still bounced off the continent. Today, the world had looked upon the Drake Kingdom.
"Your Majesty," one of the officials shouted, advancing, his voice shaking in awe.
"What does this mean? It means that Heaven is pro-DraKe Kingdom—that the heavens themselves are guarding us!"
Another hastened to echo him, determined to top him.
"Heaven is pro-DraKe Kingdom? No! It is Heaven that is pro-Your Majesty yourself!"
"Right!" a third minister shouted, his voice growing with manufactured enthusiasm. "This is obviously Heaven smiling upon His Majesty Lucian Drake!"
And suddenly, the chant.
"Let Heaven bless His Majesty! Long live the Emperor! Long live! Long live!"
Their voices crashed over the hall like thunder, the choreographed echo of devotion—or perhaps just the imitation of it.
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Lucian sat back in his throne, his lips twitching into a smile of amusement. The noise of praise poured over him like music. His long black tresses fell to his shoulders, their faint glow shining with sunlight, and violet eyes sparkled with a wicked glint.
The Emperor burst out laughing.
"Ha! My dear officials, what you say is true—" he paused theatrically, "—but let's not talk about it anymore!"
He lifted his hand in mock humility, grinning as he went on,
"I am a virtuous man, a high-minded man—one who has transcended vile lusts. I abhor flattery and obsequious compliments! So, next time, listen and just pay a mere compliment. Too much, and I just can't handle it. Haha!"
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The heads were bowed at once, but the ministers looked at each other in furtive glances.
Their countenances were not moving, but their hearts cried out in one furious shout.
Upright man?
Noble man?
Risen above carnal lusts?
One minister ground his teeth, muttering an oath.
Your Majesty, your smile is so broad that we cannot see our own eyes anymore. Present your face straight before you sermonize us on virtue!
But outwardly, they answered as one:
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
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Lucian laughed aloud again, his deep, commanding voice resonating through the throne room.
Now then," he said triumphantly, "who is bold enough to say I prefer beauties to the state? Who is bold enough to call me a stupid emperor?"
He leaned forward a little, eyes sparkling.
"Evidently, I had long-sighted wisdom! I envisioned the real value of that iron mine years ago. That's why I sold off the land—to entice the Ironforge Kingdom into a trap! And now—" he flung his arms melodramatically, "—you all behold the fruits of my diligent strategy! Haha!"
The ministers stiffened, trying to maintain poker faces.
Inside, each one of them was yelling the same thing:
We don't believe that for a damn second!
It was obvious to all that he had relinquished that territory in love of beauty. And yet… by pure cosmic accident, it had become a marvel of good luck.
Such absurd fortune! one grumbled resentfully. The gods do reward fools!
But openly, they all bowed low and chorused:
"His Majesty is wise!"
Lucian laughed louder, his voice full of arrogance and amusement.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!"
The whole court shook with the resonance of his self-contented laugh.
The ministers' faces were politely stretched—false smiles covering silent agony. Their hearts were pierced as if by a thousand needles.
A fine day to be the Emperor.
A poor one to be an official in the court.
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Lucian cleared his throat and straightened his robe after a while, regaining a semblance of composure.
"Okay," he declared, tone growing serious. "We have important business to attend to."
The room went silent at once. All officials stiffened.
Lucian's eyes raked over the hall, keen and authoritative.
"Since the Ironforge Kingdom has lost two hundred thousand soldiers," he continued, voice deepening, "their defense is shattered. This is a divinely ordained chance for our Drake Kingdom.
He rose from his throne slowly, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the floor.
"I have decided," he announced, "to dispatch two hundred thousand of our soldiers to invade the Ironforge Kingdom—to seize their cities and expand our territory!"
He paused, scanning the faces of his ministers, his violet eyes gleaming with ambition.
"My loyal ministers," he said with a slight, knowing smile, "what are your thoughts?"
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The words clung in the air.
Ambition flamed in Lucian's tone, but beneath the golden glow of the throne chamber, there was also a still, sinister certainty—
as if the Emperor were challenging Heaven itself to refuse him what already belonged to him.