------------------
HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
------------------
Chapter 27: The Day Shall Come
Forget not, children.
Forget not, brothers.
The day shall come.
The day when the long, bitter years of pain and oppression come to an end—
That day ‘shall’ come.
With a blue light from the heavens, ‘He’ will come to deliver us.
And when that day comes, let us go forth together to greet it.
Let us go to welcome ‘our King.’
▪〈Oral Legend of Dreihart / The Day Shall Come〉
* * *
As the desert wind brushed against Zarha’s face, stirring the dry sands, he regained consciousness.
“Ughhh…”
“Father! Are you alright?”
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his son, Rakan.
Still dazed, Zarha slowly pulled himself upright.
His body had been treated—bandaged and cared for.
Looking around, he realized he was in the Colosseum.
How could he not recognize this cursed place, where he had survived all these years by killing fellow slaves?
Something was different, though.
Around him were countless sleeping bags, people who appeared to be doctors, and injured comrades receiving treatment.
Kasha, Horu, Maron, Uron—even those he thought had died in battle—were lying around, apparently also treated like he was.
‘What… What the hell is going on? Didn’t I take an arrow from the Lord himself? Didn’t I die?’
Still in confusion, his son explained.
“The Lord used tranquilizer arrows to subdue you and the other warriors.”
“Tranquilizer arrows…?”
So that’s why his strength had left him. That mystery now resolved, another filled his mind.
Why?
Why go through all this trouble to ‘not’ kill them?
Could it be… they were spared just to be enslaved again? Beaten and broken all over again?
That idea—the most reasonable one—made Zarha’s stomach churn with disgust.
If the days of suffering were to begin again, maybe… maybe he should lead another rebellion ‘right now.’
But then, something strange caught his attention.
No one—’no one,’ including himself—was wearing the Purple chains.
The purple-colored shackles.
The symbol of enslavement in Dreihart.
If they were going to be enslaved again, the first thing the new lord would’ve done was shackle them.
And yet… there wasn’t a single chain in sight.
Confused and overwhelmed by questions, a loud sound suddenly erupted outside—
BWOOOOOOOOOOOONG—!!!
A trumpet blast echoed through the air—loud, commanding. A summons.
Zarha and Rakan stepped outside the tent.
All around them, others were emerging—former slaves, stirred from rest by the call.
At the center of the sound, standing atop the『Pulvinar』—the noble’s high seat in the Colosseum—was none other than Lord Calyx, the man who had shot him.
Surrounding Calyx were the Cron Knights, standing guard with flawless precision.
As the trumpet's echo faded and silence fell, Calyx began to speak.
“Slaves of Dreihart! You have been defeated.”
The words fell heavy.
Everyone there already knew it, but none wanted to admit it.
They wanted to believe in a different tomorrow.
“You have been defeated by ‘me’, Calyx Cron. And by the will of His Imperial Majesty and the Platinum Council, the rule of Dreihart has been transferred to me, Calyx Cron, Lord of House Cron.”
The noble beside him nodded solemnly.
Darkness passed across the faces of the slaves.
Some silently prayed that this new lord would not be a monster like the one before.
“I am now your master. And you… are now my slaves.”
At those words, some dropped to their knees instinctively—Even those who had fought bravely against Zarha in battle.
The lifelong beatings and fear had taught them this sad reflex.
But Calyx paid it no mind and continued.
“Your master, Calyx Cron, commands you!”
His ‘first’ command.
All the slaves froze—holding their breath.
The former Lord of Dreihart, on his first day, had celebrated by pitting a hundred slave gladiators against each other in a fight to the death.
Would history repeat itself?
Fear swept over the crowd.
Some closed their eyes, bracing for the worst.
But what came next shattered every expectation.
“Slaves of Dreihart… Live freely.”
Silence.
Total silence fell over the Colosseum.
Even Rakyu, the overseer, thought he had misheard.
But Calyx didn’t stop.
“Live freer than any free citizen!”
The slaves felt like they were dreaming.
It had to be a dream.
A noble—a ‘noble’—speaking the word ‘freedom’ for ‘them’?
“Live happier than any imperial subject!”
They had never believed they deserved happiness.
Born as slaves, taught that death under the whip was their fate—
But now, someone of high birth was denying all of that.
“Let the pain you have endured fuel the freedom and happiness you are now owed!”
Tears began to fall.
Slaves collapsed in pure, overwhelming emotion.
They couldn’t speak.
They could only cry.
Because this moment—this ‘freedom’—seemed impossible to believe.
“The history of pain and abuse that has shackled you ends today. I, Calyx Cron—the last master you’ll ever have—declare it.”
It wasn’t a dream.
He said it plainly. So all could hear. So none could deny it.
“From this day forth—You are free.”
And as those final words echoed through the Colosseum, petals began to rain down.
Blue and radiant.
From the sky above fell the petals of the『Delphinium』flower.
Its meaning?
Freedom.
When a master hands a delphinium to their slave, the slave becomes free.
As blue petals descended from the sky, the slaves realized this was no dream—it was reality. They felt the weight of freedom settle upon them.
“It's the King of Liberation...”
“The King of Liberation has come.”
Long ago, a legend was passed down in oral tradition throughout Dreihart—That one day, someone would come from the heavens, bathed in blue light, to liberate them. A great king, arriving to free the slaves.
Out of reverence, the people of Dreihart called him the『King of Liberation』—the one who would free all slaves.
“The King of Liberation has come!”
“Long live the King of Liberation!”
“Our king! Long live the King!”
This was the method Nova had spoken of.
To transform slaves into free citizens within the Empire, one had to first become their master.
By suppressing the Dreihart rebellion solely with the Cron Knights, becoming their lord and the legendary King of Liberation, and granting them freedom—this was the only way to save everyone.
As the slaves cheered, Calyx descended into the Colosseum.
He approached Zarha, who had collapsed in joy and was weeping like a child.
Calyx bowed his head in apology to Zarha.
“I'm sorry for hurting you. There was no other way to save you. Please forgive me.”
“Lord...”
Zarha's hands trembled.
He had doubted Calyx until the very end.
Though perhaps inevitable, he still felt ashamed for his distrust.
He had assumed that a noble could never understand him.
But look at the outcome.
Who truly failed to understand?
Who acted like the nobles he despised?
Realizing his actions mirrored those he loathed, Zarha was overwhelmed with shame.
“I am not the King of Liberation. If you hadn't led the rebellion, I could have done nothing.”
Even in such a moment, Calyx did not reproach Zarha.
Instead, he defended him.
“Because you rose in rebellion, they could stand up for themselves, and I could grant them freedom.”
Calyx spoke so all could hear.
The rebellion was not in vain.
Thanks to it, everyone could be free.
“You are the King of Liberation, Warrior Zarha.”
Tears streamed down Zarha's face at Calyx's words.
Though he had raged that there was no such thing as a King of Liberation, deep down, he had believed more than anyone.
But no matter how much he believed, the king never came, leading him to prepare for rebellion in anger.
Yet, as if mocking his despair, the heavens sent the King of Liberation.
And not just anyone—a person of immense capacity, who even healed the wounds in his heart.
Unable to remain still, Zarha approached Calyx and knelt on one knee.
“Zarha?”
“Father?”
Then, Zarha grasped his right horn and broke it off with force.
Presenting the horn to Calyx, Zarha pledged—
“I, Warrior Zarha of the Dragonkin, offer this horn bestowed by the Dragon God Lanix to my master.”
The Dragonkin believed their horns were symbols of their race, given by the Dragon God Lanix to watch over them.
Thus, Dragonkin warriors offered their horns to the master they truly served.
By offering one of their horns, they vowed to walk the path of loyalty, unashamed before the Dragon God.
That day, Dreihart became the domain of the Cron family, all slaves became free citizens, and Warrior Zarha became Calyx's vassal.
It was the moment another great lord was born in the Empire.
* * *
At that moment, in the Colosseum’s upper chamber, three women were watching the unfolding scene.
Maid Lana couldn’t hide her amazement as she looked at the delphinium petals created by Sharon’s magic.
“This is an incredible sight. Miss Sharon, it really feels like something out of a dream.”
“For a mage, something like this is simple.”
Using illusion magic, Sharon was generating flower petals purely from mana.
Though the petals disappeared like snow the moment they touched the ground, it was more than enough to convey the feeling of freedom.
Looking at Nova, the one who had planned and orchestrated everything, Lana spoke.
“With this, everything has gone exactly according to your plan, Miss Nova.”
“No. It was only possible because the Lord was prepared to see it through.”
The core of Nova’s ‘Kingmaker’ plan for Calyx was territorial expansion.
The Cron territory had become a solid territory through various reforms, including drastically increasing food self-sufficiency.
However, in terms of military strength, its military power still fell short of what was needed to be called a Great Lord.
That’s why Nova had prepared a plan to absorb neighboring territories with stronger military forces—Dreihart was one of them.
Right after the rebellion broke out in Dreihart, Nova had anticipated the situation and arranged for wheat imports from the west and secured sedatives. But all she could do was prepare.
After that, everything depended on Calyx’s resolve.
Only when he truly felt compassion for the slaves and resolved to make them free citizens—to become the King of Liberation—could the plan succeed.
If Calyx’s heart had changed... if he had chosen to profit off the slaves like any other noble... the plan would have failed.
But Nova believed in her eyes—and in Calyx.
It was a gamble she would never have made in the past.
And Calyx responded to that faith.
Nova was proud of him. She loved the man she had chosen.
‘Ah... my lord, the only one truly fit to be emperor is you.’
As the people of Dreihart shouted ‘King of Liberation’ in rapture, Nova was overcome with ecstasy.
She could feel the future approaching—the day when the entire Empire would cheer for that silver-haired lord.
------------------
HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
------------------