Chapter 336: Speech

Darion woke up to the smell of cold stone and old wood.

For a few seconds, he didn’t really remember where he was. Y’know, being lost in this sleepy state. The ceiling above him was high, arched with heavy timber beams he didn’t recognize. The room was larger than his quarters in Percvale. The bed was softer. The silence was heavier.

Then, yesterday’s battle came rushing back to him in a violent flood. Vrethka. Dross. Caef. The hundreds of warriors who had tried to kill him. The moment the entire settlement had eventually knelt in the blood-soaked dirt.

He sat up, rubbing his face. He glanced toward the room entrance.

Ghet Ulg was still standing there, completely motionless. The massive undead commander hadn’t moved an inch all night. His green eyes glowed faintly in the dim morning light. Darion found the sight strangely reassuring now. A few months ago, waking up to an undead monster in his room would have terrified him. Now? It was just another Tuesday.

He got out of bed and stretched. Just yesterday night after the battle his muscles ached. His shoulders were tight, his legs felt heavy, and there was a bruise forming on his ribs that he didn’t even remember getting. It was a small miracle he hadn’t broken anything.

Now he was feeling pretty fine.

He thought about how ridiculous it was that he was sleeping peacefully in the palace of the man he killed yesterday. ’If the old Barons of Percvale could see me now,’ he thought with a grim smile. ’They’d probably have a heart attack.’

Darion headed toward Seren’s room. His intention was simple: wake her, greet her, take his own bath, and start dealing with the nightmare of organizing Vrethka.

He knocked on the heavy wooden door. No response. He knocked again. Still nothing.

Darion became slightly concerned. He knew Seren was a light sleeper. After everything they had been through, a knock at the door usually had her reaching for her bow. He tried the handle. It wasn’t locked.

He opened the door himself. The room was empty. The bed was made, untouched, meaning Seren hadn’t slept in it recently, or at least, she had gotten up a long time ago.

Darion immediately noticed Edric Vorne standing motionlessly inside the room, facing the wall.

For a moment, Darion just stared. "Where the hell did she go?"

He realized Seren must have gotten up early. He summoned Edric back to his inventory rather than leaving an undead standing around in an empty room. The room instantly felt less oppressive.

Almost immediately afterward, Darion heard footsteps in the hallway. He turned, and Seren came out from the direction of the palace bathroom.

She was already bathed, dressed in clean clothes, and had her hair pulled back. She looked ready for the day. Ready for war.

Darion looked at her, his tired brain trying to catch up. "You’re already awake?"

Seren casually shrugged. "I woke up early. Figured I’d bathe before the entire settlement woke up and started panicking."

Darion nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. "I guess the early bird catches the worm."

Darion remembered Marrick. He and Seren walked down the corridor to the young prince’s room. They opened the door quietly.

Marrick was still completely asleep. He was sprawled out on the bed, fully clothed, his mouth slightly open. He looked like a normal teenager who had just collapsed from exhaustion.

Darion looked at the sleeping future king and thought about how strange the situation was. Yesterday, Marrick was a prisoner. Today, he was apparently the ruler of an entire territory.

"I’ll let him sleep," Darion said quietly, closing the door. "The guy has had a rough couple of weeks."

Eventually, Darion realized he couldn’t delay the inevitable. He needed to speak to the people. Not just the warriors, but everyone.

Vrethka wasn’t some enormous kingdom with hundreds of thousands of citizens spread across dozens of cities. It was a relatively compact warrior settlement. That made gathering everyone much easier.

Darion ordered the surviving officers to assemble the settlement’s people before the largest building in Vrethka.

People slowly gathered. Warriors arrived first, their armor dented, their faces pale. Then the women. Children stayed close to their mothers, clutching their skirts. Families stood together nervously.

Some people whispered. Some stared openly at Darion. Others avoided looking at him completely. Many of them had witnessed yesterday’s battle. They saw the undead. They saw Darion kill their chief. They saw their warriors fall. The atmosphere was incredibly tense, a powder keg waiting to be lit.

Darion stood on a raised stone platform so everyone could see him. Someone brought out a large, horn-like device used to amplify the voice across the courtyard. Darion took it.

He looked across the sea of frightened faces. He didn’t immediately start threatening them.

’I don’t want these people to think I’m here to destroy them,’ Darion thought. ’I want obedience, but I also want the settlement functioning.’

Darion brought the horn to his mouth. His voice boomed across the courtyard, echoing off the stone walls.

"Yesterday, Vrethka fought me."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Obviously, everyone knew.

"Today, I stand here because I won."

Dead silence.

He told them that Vrethka now belonged to him. But instead of presenting it as a simple conquest, he decided to frame the narrative.

"You were dragged into a war that never needed to happen."

That became the central theme.

Darion started from the beginning. He explained that his knights were attacked by Gonnb. He made it clear that he did not immediately march against Gonnb.

"I tried to find out why. I sent a messenger."

The crowd listened.

"I asked them a simple question. Why did you attack my knights?"

He paused, letting the tension build.

"Instead of answering... they killed the messenger."

This was where the crowd started becoming more interested. Some warriors exchanged glances. They understood the laws of the land. Attacking a lord’s knights was one thing; killing a messenger was an act of absolute war.

"At that point, what choice did I have?" Darion asked.

He didn’t exaggerate. He simply explained that attacking the messenger of a lord was not a peaceful act. It was a declaration of war.

Darion explained that he eventually attacked Gonnb. He told them that Gonnb left him with no peaceful path forward. He didn’t try to hide that he destroyed the settlement. He simply framed it as retaliation for an attack that began with Gonnb.

"Then came Caef," Darion said.

He explained that Caef survived. Caef witnessed what happened. Caef wanted revenge.

"Instead of dealing with me himself, Caef went to Dross. He asked Vrethka to fight me for him."

Darion paused. He looked over the crowd, his eyes scanning the warriors.

"Who asks another man to fight his battle for him?"

Silence. It was the kind of question where Darion didn’t even need to explain the answer. A warrior who couldn’t fight his own battles was a coward. And Dross had accepted that coward’s plea.

Darion continued. He told them that Dross accepted Caef’s request. And because of that decision, Vrethka was dragged into a conflict that wasn’t originally theirs.

This is where Darion attacked Dross’s leadership. Not personally. As a ruler.

"A chief’s first responsibility is to protect his people."

He looked around at the settlement. At the terrified families. At the wounded warriors.

"But Dross chose a war that did not need to be fought. He chose revenge over your safety."

This hit differently. Because now the crowd wasn’t just thinking about yesterday’s battle. They were thinking about their families. Their homes. Their children. They were realizing that Dross had gambled their lives on a war he couldn’t win.

Darion then connected it to Vrethka’s culture. He acknowledged that Vrethka is a place built around strength. They respect warriors. They value the strong. They believe strength determines survival.

"I understand that," Darion said.

Then he leaned forward slightly. "But strength isn’t simply the ability to swing a sword."

He explained that a strong leader must also know when not to fight. A warrior who charges into an unwinnable battle isn’t necessarily brave. Sometimes they’re simply foolish.

"And Dross..." Darion paused. "Dross was not strong."

That was the line. Not because Dross couldn’t fight. But because he lacked the judgment required to protect Vrethka. He had the strength of a warrior, but the mind of a reckless fool.

Darion let the silence sit.

Some warriors lowered their heads. Others glanced toward the palace. Some looked toward their families. A few clearly still weren’t convinced, but nobody interrupted. They were too afraid.

Darion continued. "If Vrethka had a better leader... yesterday would never have happened."

He paused.

"You would still have your chief. Your warriors would still be alive. And your settlement would not be standing here wondering whether the next army is coming."

This made the speech less about Darion winning and more about Dross failing. He was shifting the blame. He was making Dross the villain of the story, and himself the inevitable consequence of Dross’s failures.

Now Darion delivered the real message. He told them he wasn’t interested in destroying Vrethka. He didn’t want to burn their homes or kill their families.

"I want Vrethka to survive. And under me, it will."

He pointed toward the warriors still alive.

"You fought me yesterday. And you lost."

Then he paused.

"But you’re still alive."

He deliberately emphasized that. He could have killed far more. He didn’t.

"That was not weakness. That was mercy."

Then Darion gave them the choice. Not really a choice, but he presented it as one.

"You can continue following the path Dross chose. Or you can follow someone who can actually protect you."

Darion looked across the crowd. The settlement was silent.

Then he said:

"This was just a small price to pay for salvation."

He lowered the horn.

Nobody immediately cheered. That would have felt fake. Instead, people simply stared at him.

Then, one warrior slowly lowered his head. Another followed. Then another. The reaction spread through the crowd until, one by one, the people of Vrethka bowed.

Darion watched. And for the first time, he realized something: he didn’t need them to love him. He just needed them to believe that following him was safer than fighting him. And that was exactly what this speech had accomplished.