Athena's General - Chapter 332

Bartholomew Olarion:

I walked through the mansion that served as our political headquarters. The other monarchs and I had private estates nearby, but this was where we always gathered.

“Is there anything you need, Your Majesty?” one of my guards asked after noticing I had stopped walking.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” I replied curtly.

I was never alone. Wherever I went, I was accompanied by soldiers. That was simply the way things were.

I sighed.

In the years since the war, I’d dedicated myself to making the impossible, possible. I united all the formerly independent kingdoms of our half of the continent under one flag. We became a single kingdom. I even considered calling it an empire… but I didn’t want to be too bold. My true goal was to finally be recognized as an official ally by the three Great Kingdoms.

For centuries, we had been quietly oppressed. Eighty percent of the continent’s mages belonged to the Great Kingdoms. Our half of the continent had the fewest mages—and the weakest. Unlike their magical societies, we lived closely with non-magical people. That was why our lands were often dismissed during negotiations.

We lacked power, and commercially, we couldn’t compete. How could we, when they had mages speeding up crop growth, creating rivers, carving mountains? They had mages trained for agriculture, engineering, construction—while we had to train ours for war. We didn’t have the numbers to afford luxuries. We couldn’t waste precious mages on farming. We needed them for survival.

We didn’t even have enough healers. The rare ones were invaluable. And we couldn’t afford to lose them. We were always at war—among ourselves. The Great Kingdoms never interfered. In fact, they benefited from our division. All they asked was that we helped maintain the borders and stayed out of their way when they used our roads.

We had no choice but to comply. We relied on them for everything—from buying our food and goods to selling our exports. And since the independent kingdoms were enemies, we couldn’t trade with each other. We were "allies," but the truth is, we were treated like servants.

For generations, my family humbled itself to maintain relations with them.

But that changed with me.

When war came, it was our side that bled the most. If the border walls fell, we were the first in danger. The fortresses were considered neutral ground—we didn’t kill each other there. But when the war erupted, we suffered the worst losses. Mages died in droves. Royal families lost heirs. Some of the rulers of our kingdoms died in battle. Our economy collapsed. We bore the title of “kingdom,” but our wealth couldn’t compare to even a single duchy in the Great Kingdoms. We were poor. Broken.

And after the war, we didn’t even have the strength to keep fighting among ourselves.

But I changed that.

When my son awakened his mana gem to the Star Level, he became the strongest mage in our entire half of the continent. Alone, Leonhard—my heir—marched into the castles of each monarch. But not to bring war. He fought through their defenses just to speak to them. To invite them to the table.

He showed them power, but didn’t use it to dominate.

They saw what we were capable of. And they had no choice but to listen. Some feared we’d kill them, that we’d take over. But I offered them something no one expected:

Unity.

Divided, we were wretched. But together, we could rebuild our economy—reclaim our strength. And that’s exactly what I did.

Over the past five years, we worked behind the scenes. No conflicts, no invasions, no sabotage. We focused solely on trade agreements. Each independent kingdom, wary of trouble or intrigue, began selling its goods through me. I became the middleman, distributing resources fairly and efficiently, building a neutral network of commerce. Slowly but surely, each kingdom began using Olarion as the central trade hub.

Of course, conflicts emerged, but they were dealt with swiftly—through diplomacy and pragmatism. And once each region started to prosper, the former enemies began to see a new kind of hope. We didn’t need to be enemies anymore. We didn’t need to be friends either. What we needed... was to be partners.

This was the same logic that governed the relationship between the duchies and the Human Kingdom. Using that model, I made a formal proposal: we would become a single nation—the Kingdom of Olarion. Each independent kingdom would be reclassified as a duchy, but in return, they’d gain undeniable benefits—a stronger economy and lasting peace, something the title of “independent kingdom” had never been able to provide.

To my surprise, they agreed.

I went from enemy to savior. Centuries of war and conflict gave way to prosperity.

But with that unification, I understood something else—the weight of responsibility. A stable economy breeds powerful mages, advanced resources, and eventually, militarization. That’s when I truly grasped how the Asalon family operated: control comes at a price.

This union I had forged would empower us all… but in the wrong hands, it could one day produce the strength to overthrow me.

So I took precautions.

Each duchy was assigned a single purpose: agriculture, mining, trade—no more. I alone, as king, would centralize military authority. In return, I would guarantee their protection. I also sent my most loyal men to each duchy under the title of “Marquis”. Officially, they were advisors and mediators. In truth? They were spies. Sentinels. Watching for any signs of rebellion or unauthorized militarization.

I couldn’t allow future uprisings. I couldn’t allow alliances to form that might threaten my rule. I had to be the pillar holding the kingdom together. That was my price—and shockingly, they all agreed. The looming collapse we once faced had scared them enough to accept. They knew that if anyone stood apart from the new order, the Kingdom of Olarion would eventually conquer them anyway.

Centuries of bloodshed, in-fighting, and chaos—undone in five years.

Olarion was reborn. Bigger. Stronger. United. Ready for the future I intended to shape.

Honestly? I deserved an award for being such a brilliant ruler.

I took the hatred we held for each other… and redirected it toward the Three Great Kingdoms. I painted them as the true cause of our suffering. We began demanding entry into their alliance. Their exclusive trade routes weren’t just physical paths—they influenced everything, even pricing. They sold to each other at discounts, invested together in technology. Look at Apsalon—it’s the product of that alliance. A city built to cultivate the best minds and mages, where magical breakthroughs like healing potions were born.

We wanted that.

So we stopped buying their goods, tried to pressure them into fairer deals. Now that we had our own network, we could afford to push back.

But just when I thought I held all the cards... my world collapsed.

The truth about the border. The truth about them. The truth about their magic.

It hit me all at once.

We were just ants… compared to the real truths of this world.

And now, more than ever, I needed the Great Kingdoms at my side.

Because if those anomalies reached us… we’d be the first to fall.

And if they turned their backs on us, if they let us face it alone…
Then eventually, we would be swallowed whole.

It had been a whirlwind of disasters. But the worst of all... was what happened to my daughter in that cursed academy tower. One of those damned traitors... tried to hurt my little girl. Tried to stain her purity.

And he was the one I was going to see.

This was my moment alone. The only time there were no guards around. The only time when, away from the crown, I could become the executioner. Free from judgment, free to do whatever I wanted to William Halldam. As long as I didn’t kill him, no one would stop me.

Since he couldn’t give us any answers, he would keep being tortured—until somehow, some way, he did.

"The cell is open for you, Your Majesty," said the guard. I looked at them sharply.

"Leave. All of you," I ordered. "I want to be alone with that worm."

I walked down the corridor, stopping in front of the cell where William Halldam was restrained—chained up, barely conscious, but alive.

"Tonight, we’re going to have another little chat," I said, pulling from my storage bracelet a block of wood, studded with long, rusted nails. I held it tightly in my hand.

"Tonight, I’ll violate you the same way you tried to violate my daughter."

He screamed in panic the moment I stepped closer.

And that night, his screams would be music to my ears.

Melina Asalon:

"Know your place, Elara," my mother snapped.

My sister—though legally listed as my half-sister—stood silently in the private chamber with us. Her posture was rigid, military-like, but her eyes had drifted somewhere far away.

"You’re not even from the secondary branch of the family. You’re tertiary. Beneath everyone. Your only purpose is to protect this family with your life," my mother continued coldly.

"Yes… Your Majesty," Elara replied, voice steady.

She was being reprimanded for failing to protect Duncan and me during the tower incident. It was just the three of us in that room—me, my mother, and Elara.

Deep down, my mother despised her. She hated that Elara had inherited the family’s signature colored fire. I stood silent. If I spoke up, it would only make things worse for her.

Elara was never truly recognized as an Asalon. Her very birth had been considered a mistake. A concubine was never supposed to bear a child. But my mother allowed it—on one condition: that Elara would never marry, never have children, and dedicate her life to military service. That was the price of her existence.

And I knew… a part of her suffering was because of me.

My mother couldn’t bear the fact that Elara was better than me at everything. And I... I hated myself for being the reason she was treated this way.

When the reprimand ended, my mother exited the room, leaving us alone.

"S-sister…" I tried to approach her.

But Elara gave me a practiced, hollow smile.

"If you need anything, Princess, I’ll be in my office," she said, voice light and empty.

She said Princess. Not Sister.

I didn’t stop her from leaving. I waited until I was alone to let the weight hit me.

"It’s not your fault…" my mother’s voice came again. She had returned and must’ve seen the sadness on my face.

"You have a kind heart, Melina. Too kind for this world. But this is how things must be."

She walked over and embraced me gently.

"Do you know how it feels, watching the daughter of a concubine outshine my own child? It hurts me."

"So… it's my fault then…" I murmured, looking down.

"No, darling. You're my precious daughter. I want you to stay just as you are. Don’t change. Let me handle the difficult choices. I promise, nothing in this world will ever hurt you."

She pulled me closer.

"Can you imagine if Elara went around boasting that she was better than you? That’s why I do what I do. That’s why I’ve always kept her in her place. So she’ll never forget who she was born to serve."

"But my sister... she's a good person," I said quietly.

"The fact that I push her is why she’s good," my mother replied, stroking my hair gently. "I’m squeezing out every drop of potential she has. That’s her purpose—to be your shield, your sword. She needs to understand that, if necessary, she must die for you."

She smiled, as if those words were sweet and loving.

"I will plan every step of your future... perfectly. One day, you will give birth to Duncan’s child. He will sit on that throne. Your child will be the next Emperor. The purest of all bloodlines."

I swallowed hard, pushing the lump in my throat deeper. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. There was no fight left in me—just quiet submission. I had long accepted that, since the moment I learned to walk, every step of mine was orchestrated by my mother.

I never had freedom. I never would.

My role was clear: to smile, to appear perfect, to be healthy and untouched—so that I could fulfill my one true purpose. To bear a child.

I was to remain pure. Not a person, not a girl. A vessel. A tool.

That’s what I am... just a cow in a gilded barn, bred to birth a calf.

"Yes... mommy," I said, surrendering to it.

To be a princess meant to be a slave to your responsibilities.

She stayed with me, walking me to my bedroom. Everything in the room was pink, decorated with stuffed animals and dolls. But none of it was mine—not really. I never chose a single thing. My mother picked it all. I had to live in a space she could fully control.

She closed the door behind me and locked it. Only she had the key.

I was always locked inside, allowed out only for rare occasions—events where I was displayed like a trophy and then hidden again. Always kept safe. Always untouched. My room didn’t even have a window.

The only time I ever felt free was at the academy. But that was over now.

"How was your day, everyone?" I asked softly, approaching the corner where my dolls sat.

"Mine was fun..."

I paused, looking at their silent faces.

"Answer me!" I shouted suddenly, knocking the dolls to the floor. "S-sorry... I lied. It wasn’t fun."

I gently picked them up and set them around the tea table again.

"How was your day, Princess Syvis?" I asked the elf doll, her paper ears taped to the sides of her head.

"I bet it was wonderful," I whispered.

"And you, Chloe?" I poured cold tea into a tiny cup. "Sorry it’s not warm, but I’m sure you like the cold, right? Ice magic and all..." I laughed softly at my own joke.

Then I looked at my favorite doll—the one tied to a tiny chair with chains. I had surrounded him with little scissors, so he’d know what would happen if he tried to escape.

"And how was your day... Nathan?" I asked, stepping closer to the doll.

My face flushed.

"This is your reward for saving me in the tower," I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the doll’s cheek.

"You’re the only one who understands me."

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