Summoning America

Chapter 179: Marcellon

Author's Note (Story and Patreon Updates):

Please support Manifest Fantasy on Reddit (r/HFY) by upvoting and commenting! I'm lowering the milestone so I'll upload one extra chapter on Manifest Fantasy and Summoning America if I get 400 (previously 600) average likes on my Manifest Fantasy Reddit chapters.

Note 2:

Read one week ahead: Chapter 180 is now out for all Tier 2 Patrons and higher! Tier 2 Patrons and higher will be able to read one chapter ahead!

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/drdoritosmd

-- --

January 22, 1641

Ragna, Gra Valkas Empire

Marcellon Skaldottir sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the flickering television before him. The daily broadcast schedule glowed in the dim light of his office, showing questionable news about the Fourth Conquest Fleet's 'success' near the Mirishial capital. The broadcasts once filled him with a sense of purpose, especially as they rallied against the Divine Kingdom of Kain, but now, it seemed that they were filled with lies that contradicted the battlefield rumors streaming in from the front lines.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath, and rubbed his temples. The Imperial Broadcast Corporation, his domain for the past two decades, had been a powerful tool for rallying the citizens. They used to stream nationalistic messaging and military triumphs to fuel the people's pride in their empire – and technically, they still do. But now, with Chancellor Marix at the helm, something felt different.

The broadcasts continued to trumpet the Empire's strength and righteousness, yes, but there was a new edge to the rhetoric, a fervor that bordered on fanaticism. Marix, once a figure he had admired for his unwavering devotion to Gra Valkan supremacy, now seemed to embody an extremism that seemed counterproductive to the Empire.

As he scanned the lineup of carefully crafted news segments and patriotic programming, a heaviness settled in his chest. The truth was being stretched thinner than before – he couldn't explain how, but he could feel it, sense it. Reports of glorious victories and enemy surrenders felt hollow, lacking the concrete details and footage that had once lent them credibility. It was like the new narrative was being spun from wishful thinking rather than facts on the ground.

Of course, it all started with Marix's mysterious rise to power. The public story, a thinly veiled tale of the Emperor's sudden illness and subsequent withdrawal for the sake of the Empire's stability, felt like a bitter jest. Marcellon knew Emperor Gra Lux – his vigor, his unyielding vision for their nation. The idea that such a man could succumb so abruptly, immediately after an attack, leaving his Empire in the hands of Marix, struck him as a blatant lie.

Where was the Crown Prince, Gra Cabal, whose face used to be plastered all over the newspapers and television screens? Where was Secretary Varden Kurtz, from the Office of the Sovereign? Or Xand Pastall, Chief of the Military? Senator Marix was far down the chain of succession; there was simply no way several of the empire's most important people simply disappeared, conveniently allowing him to take the reins of the Empire.

Each day, Marcell-on disseminated Marix's narratives, mind and body moving automatically while his heart rebelled. With every announcement of the Chancellor's 'decisive actions' and 'imperial directives', a part of him recoiled. It was as if he were betraying the Emperor with every word he allowed to pass into the imperial waves.

His eyes drifted to the framed photograph on his desk, a picture of his wife and two children smiling at the camera. They believed in him, in the work he did. One of them – his eldest son – was even about to finish high school. What would they think if they knew the truth behind the facade he helped maintain? How would he feel if he knowingly sent his son to die in an unwinnable war?