The Refuge of Fate

Chapter 43 - Lukewarm Water

"You are making no sense, your highness," The hero spoke as he shook his head. "What doesn't?" Tryon responded as he crossed his arms in a challenging manner.

"You haven't seen Pier Belmiunde yourself. You, as a man, would understand my words too if you see him." Sighing, the hero kept quiet once more as he looked at the snow-covered wonder place he called as an empire.

It was futile to even think about such matters. Many lives were at risk and there were people dying left and right because of his carelessness. He was the one who instigated the war but was also the first one to draw back. As a consequence, he was locked up by the king and the war proceeded as his plans.

They could've won it. They could've won the war and claimed the southern lands where warmth is present. However, with the sudden appearance of a variable that greatly triggered the hero's senses, every chance of their success crumbled into the ground like walls being hammered by such an entity.

He couldn't blame anyone because, in the first place, it was his idea to start the uprising against the enemy empire and the surrounding kingdoms. Now, they are being cornered by these territories.

Belmaid, Taron, and Heron. These three territories are probably strengthening their connections with each other right now in order to finish the cold and disastrous war that had been going on for months now. It was closer than anyone would've expected.

He was the reason for it all. The supposed great thinker behind the forces of Cresencia. He was the reason it had become a place where people would not have to worry about the next days to come. He was the reason why Cresencia was able to become, at the very least, a livable place to those who are marginalized.

It was undeniable that Cresencia was a great empire due to the amount of wealth it had amassed from the hidden treasures in the snow. However, only the nobles and the rich mostly benefited from it. Those who were poor remained as workers of the rich.

The beggars will remain as slaves for the socially constructed responsibility of those in power. While the wealthy stay inside their homes to feel the warmth of the all-year-round snow, the penurious individuals slid down the walls of frost and suffering.

It was the grim reality the hero had grown up with while living in the empire. However, he cannot even change the already set 'balance' implemented by the rich. He was a hero for his skills in defending and planning strategies for the Empire but still continued to become a puppet for the rich.

He was the hero of the poor but the bondsman for the upper class.

"What are you planning to do now, your highness?" He asked the Crown Prince who was now sipping on a warm cup of coffee delivered by the pub owner. Hearing the hero's question, Tyron placed the cup down and looked at the eyes of the man. "Why do you think the emperor released you from prison despite your sins, hero?" The hero stiffened in his seat.

In that instant, he knew what they were planning.

While the other territories are planning how to strike back, they are going to use him as their final weapon.

He wasn't Cresencia's hero for nothing.

"His majesty wants this battle to be our last, hero, and you know what I mean." Tyron then went to pick up his cup of coffee once more and ease his chilling body.

"Final?" The hero asked and Tyron nodded his head.

"The final battle against the territories. The final battle against winter. The final battle of every citizen in Cresencia who is suffering from the never-ending frost that consumed the empire."

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The hero walked the streets of the empire. There were tracks of footsteps on the thick snow as he ventured into the place. Indeed, the Empire of the North was cold. So cold that even he shivered despite the thick coat that he wore.