We had literally nothing. No maps, no administration, no currency, no roads, not even a real army. Conflicts with everyone around us. How was this supposed to work?
Only now, as we sat over it with Valeria and discussed it seriously, the scale of the undertaking we would have to face for the Kingdom of Valar project to succeed felt overwhelming. On top of that, there was a certain complication I hadn't known about…
"Do you know why Jo'Xa'Jaru liked the name Valar so much, and why I called it sacred?"
I thought for a moment. I had simply taken it from the beginnings of our names, but when I thought about it longer, it reminded me of the biblical equivalents of angels in the world of J.R.R. Tolkien. But well… it just sounded good, so I figured it fit.
"Well, it's a nice name, not just any, and it starts with a V like most names in your Nocturne family for some reason unknown to me," I replied, without a trace of submission.
"That's exactly it, Artax! Valar is the name of a famous king from the time of the fall of the Golden City and the southern continent! He's the grandfather of my great-grandfather's grandfather — a conqueror who united all vampire clans and devoted himself to the protection of the God of Darkness! The founder of the vampire kingdom and builder of the capital on the Misty Isles!" She slammed her hands on the table and looked straight into my surprised eyes. "Do you know what it means that we're invoking his name!? My stupid uncle will think I want to get rid of him and declare myself the successor of Valar the Conqueror!!! He'll go mad!!!"
I clicked my teeth for a moment and looked around. The worst scenarios crossed my mind, but so did memories of battles and events we had somehow survived, as if some good omen was watching over us.
"So we're not just fighting everyone around us, but also your beloved family with a demon lord on their side?" I asked, baring my teeth.
"Yes. Why are you smiling like that?" she asked, quite offended, her long hair falling over her forehead after a long night. "Well? Speak!"
"Maybe you really will be like your ancestor. Fate is giving you a chance! No point breaking down or expecting the worst. You didn't win a battle just to despair now over something you have no control over. What your usurper uncle does, he'll do…"
The air in the tent thickened. The first rays of sunlight fell upon the world, but Valeria brightened just like everything outside. She placed her hand on the hilt of the Nocturne sword lying by the great chair. She knelt, closed her eyes, and whispered something under her breath. Something about granting strength and the God of Darkness. Finally, she stood up, smiling and laughing — like a teenager on her first date with a school heartthrob.
"Artax the golden-tongued. That's what you should be called. You always know what to say to lift my spirits and give me courage. If it weren't for your improvisation and ingenuity, I'd probably have died in a dungeon or been killed just to avoid provoking the vampires…" she sighed. "Maybe the God of Darkness really wants us to try…"
I nodded, and we both smiled. Though we both knew it wouldn't be easy — a rough road lay ahead of us. Full of holes, shattered glass, and deadly venomous vipers. At least at the end there was a beautiful valley with a waterfall! Ah! To put it poetically, like the famous polish poet Mickiewicz!
Horns sounded outside. Hundreds of footsteps and countless panicked auras could be heard and felt beyond the tent. The time had come. Jo'Xa'Jaru along with San'Xa'Hu and Argos with the goblins were waiting outside. I stepped out first, while the silver-haired one prepared herself. Crown, boots, clothes, and hair. Well… women's matters.
Doirak stood outside with the mark of a red hand on his tunic. He had grown terribly thin, yet his spirit had not weakened in the slightest. Apparently, he had spent the whole night unconscious and it was uncertain whether he would wake up at all. Fortunately, he made it! It was a pity Mago and Gyrd couldn't be here with us now. Their important tasks could not wait.
"It's good that you're with us, Doirak Ironside! Your deeds on the battlefield have not gone unnoticed! Recover quickly. The Kingdom needs you!" I said to him, which made him very happy.
"Thank you, great devourer! If not for your help, I would never have survived."
Others listened to us, then joined the fruitful conversation themselves. Nearly everyone who mattered in the alliance was present — and not only them. The eastern goblins were also there, though less familiar and more restrained, as if afraid. Hard to blame them — many of them had wanted to kill us just yesterday. Today, however, they were to join us and build a new future together. It sounded almost too good.
"Stand! Be silent and behold! Here is Valeria Nocturne — chosen of the Behemoths, heir of royal blood, and the one who will lead us into a new era! Queen of Valar!" shouted Argos Howling Storm, then howled so fiercely that sparks flew into the sky.
All present knelt, bowed their heads (as I did), or remained unmoved like Koshia, bound to a pole in the middle of the open space. At last, from his side came a stream of curses and insults. He was alone and had not accepted defeat until the very end.
"You shameless bitch, cold-blooded murderer from those filthy islands. You will never be queen of the goblins. May your bloodline and everything you hold dear be cursed. You—"
Jo'Xa'Jaru silenced him with a single strike of his glaive's shaft against the ground and an eruption of his muddy blue aura. Some of the eastern goblins, eager to please their new ruler, were already ready to butcher him, but Valeria stopped them at the last moment.
She slightly raised her hand, and the dark aura thickened. The white crown made of white oak from the village of Yellow Grass, with four gems pointing to the four directions of the world and white pearls from the times of goblin coastal raids, suited her more than ever. Pieces of wood twisted upward like a dense, ancient tree remembering long-forgotten times.
"Make way. I will speak with the one who challenged Zod, King of Monsters," she said in a commanding tone, with a black blade at her side.
Her steps were quiet, calm, almost regal. There was not a trace of anger in them — and perhaps that was the most terrifying thing for that oversized hobgoblin. Finally, she stood right before him. If they were both human, one might think a young elegant lady stood before a street thug after a brutal beating.
"So weak, so fragile, and pathetic," she said with contempt in her eyes. "Look at me. Straight into my eyes when I speak to you!" she ordered, slapping him.
He tried to spit at her, but before he could, he received a blow straight to the teeth, blood pouring out, followed by a loud crack. Then she cut his bonds, freeing him. For a moment I saw her aura flicker in her left eye — and I understood… Valeria truly had no scruples.
"Let's settle this once and for all. Let us fight fairly, one on one. Whoever wins will lead the Kingdom of Valar into a new era for all the monsters of Montara and beyond! Fight, coward, fight!" she shouted at him.
For a brief moment, I saw his eyes glimmer — just slightly, just long enough for me to notice. The air thickened. Some could not believe what their queen had said. She had put the entire Kingdom on the line!? But I knew exactly what she intended, and I was impressed by her cunning.
"Very well then. If I kill you, I will throw your corpse into filth and curse all vampires generations to come. If I die, I will return to the God of the Sword without regret, and everything bad that befalls the green race will weigh on your conscience!"
You could hear the shift in tone, the tension in his muscles, though his shouting and surging aura likely deceived everyone. Perhaps everyone except Argos, who watched it all without emotion, as if he knew what was about to happen. The elders of the eastern clans observed everything with great interest, though none called out the name of their former great chieftain to support him.
Blades clashed. The massive sword given to Koshia inspired fear, looking as though it could split a man in two. He didn't even wait to wash, eat, or prepare. He struck without warning, his axe igniting with flames, each swing leaving a smoky trail. Steam rose from his boiling body, and though he attacked like a demon from hell, he never once came close to striking the vampire.
"You damn creature! Fight, don't run!" Koshia howled at her.
She, however, fought like a master swordswoman — every strike calculated, every step graceful. Black flames filled with the aura of the God of Darkness struck Koshia, causing him to lose balance and step back carelessly.
That was enough.
One furious thrust, with a scream from the depths of her lungs — and the strike landed.
Hobgoblin blood splashed onto the ground. Koshia still fought, but blood poured from his bare chest at the level of his heart. The queen's black tunic, wrapped in dark aura and flames, almost met his sudden strike, but at the last moment the axe seemed to slow, and Valeria dodged, countering with a diagonal slash — severing his arm and tearing into his side so brutally that bones cracked and organs spilled out mixed with blood.
His teeth rattled with rage. I saw his aura trying to burst in all directions like an ancient tree twisting roots downward and branches upward. A great roar of fury exploded into the sky, and blood streamed from his eyes and ears.
"You… you fals—"
One brutal slash was enough to separate his head from his body.
"You fought and you lost. Now rest. May the God of the Sword explain your mistakes to you in the afterlife. You will harm the green race no more…" she spoke like a priest at a funeral, then wiped the blood from her blade on his corpse.
The crowd erupted in cheers. Lizardmen struck spears against shields, goblins blew their horns and shouted praises to the God of the Sword. The era of terror of that vile hobgoblin had come to an end forever. Argos nodded, and I did not hide my admiration either.
"Let the world hear!" her voice cut through like a blade. "I, Valeria Nocturne — heir of royal blood, chosen of the God of Darkness and anointed by the ancient Behemoths — raise my hands to the heavens and declare the beginning of a new era!" She stepped forward, her aura spreading like a shadow across the entire field. "Let the mightiest bear witness — Zod, the God of the Sword, and the God of Darkness — that from this moment there will be no more divided tribes, feuding clans, or weak, broken races!" She raised her black sword high. "The Kingdom of Valar rises! A kingdom of strength, blood, and unity! A kingdom where monsters will no longer flee, hide, and die in the shadow of foreign empires!" The crowd trembled — some cheered, others whispered among themselves. "I swear to you — on the blood spilled today and the blood yet to flow — that I will lead you to glory! To a power the world has not seen since the Age of Gods!" I saw her eyes burning with passion. "Let Montara tremble. Let the Three Great Forests hear our name. Let our enemies learn it in fear."
Then came silence, tense as a drawn string. I looked at that mad vampire who had just given everything to make this spectacle convincing. So many leaders and warriors watched her every move and listened to every word. How much can someone grow in such a short time? She truly came from a royal bloodline — she had that something… At least, that's what I thought.
"Who stands with me shall live in glory. Whoever defies me and spits in the face of Zod and the God of the Sword will be crushed and forgotten." Her lowered sword pointed to the ground. She drew a breath and unleashed her aura. "So I swear!"
It didn't take long before the celebrations began. Goblins brought gifts, discussions started on how to proceed. So many matters piled up — so many fallen still awaited burial, so many reports needed to be reviewed. She stood proudly, thinking about what the future would bring, listening to advice.
Soon the sun reached noon. So much time had passed — Mago and Gyrd were probably already fighting their first skirmishes and negotiating with stragglers and deserters from the enemy army. Hopefully they would succeed. Every village and every soldier was worth their weight in gold.
When wine and beer flowed from barrels taken from the enemy camp and songs rose through the camp, something stirred fear even in Argos and Jo'Xa'Jaru. A terrifying, powerful aura came from the southwest. Then came a roar and a gust of wind so strong that tents were torn into the air and trees bent, creaking loudly.
Panic erupted. Valeria grabbed the hilt of her sword. Others, feeling that aura, panicked, grabbing whatever weapons they had and fleeing as far as they could. Soon, a powerful voice tore through the distance.
The voice of a dragoness — one I would rather not know.
"ARTAX!!! You idiot!!! I'll kill you!!! I'LL MURDER YOU!!!"