Chapter 428
Chapter 428: We Will Become One (1)
At the heart of the city of Clayton stood the largest and most magnificent mansion.
This three-story mansion, constructed with the help of the dwarves themselves, had become a landmark of the city thanks to its outstanding appearance.
Though it was usually occupied by Notura, today was different.
Rustle, rustle—
Seated in the mansion’s office, Arthur was quickly flipping through the documents before him.
His reunion with his comrades had been brief—he had come here to quickly assess the changes in Clayton before the festival began.
As he focused on the mountain of paperwork, a knock came from somewhere within the pile.
Moments later, Notura entered, carrying another stack of documents in his arms.
"This is the last of it."
“There really are a lot.”
“Well, we’ve launched so many operations recently…”
“Someone told me it feels like the city underwent a complete rebirth thanks to an absurd amount of money.”
“Absurd money… well, it’s not entirely wrong.”
The money Arthur had poured into the city of Clayton had once belonged entirely to Azonne Vistas, one of the wealthiest men of his time.
With that enormous fortune, Notura hired hundreds of thousands of vagrants and rapidly developed Clayton at an incredible pace.
Expansion of the docks.
Housing projects for the vagrants.
Foundational construction for the Great Wall.
And all the work involved in preparing for the upcoming festival.
The results of all this were compiled into the documents Arthur was now reviewing, so it was only natural for Notura to be nervous.
How would this man react to the changes I’ve brought about?
Would he be satisfied? Would he think it lacking?
After scanning the last of the documents, Arthur stretched and looked up at Notura.
A smile appeared on his lips.
“You’ve done truly excellent work.”
“Ah, no, not at all…”
“How was it, taking on the role of a leader?”
“To be honest, it felt like a dream. When would someone like me ever get the chance to run such massive operations alongside such powerful figures?”
Italus, once the second-in-command of Aintrier.
Dorneth Gader, the Dwarf King.
Elder Medeia, of the witches.
Notura had sat with influential figures he’d never even dreamed of meeting, sharing drinks and discussions about the future of the Allied Forces.
“Honestly, I was just happy.”
Arthur smiled faintly at his honest expression.
Notura had once been a bold merchant who even threatened the distribution network of Aintrier. But after being crushed by Azonne, he had fallen into ruin, wandering the streets as a vagrant.
Arthur had trusted his potential and entrusted him with this role—and the result had exceeded all expectations.
“You’ve prepared everything flawlessly.”
Especially the Great Wall.
The wall, beginning with Clayton, was a massive defensive structure being constructed to protect the northern region of the Ordor Forest—a first line of defense against enemies coming from above, to shield the World Tree.
He used the vagrants…?
Arthur had thought of the idea as well, but organizing and executing such a large-scale operation with hundreds of thousands of vagrants wasn’t easy.
And Notura had done it.
The successful and rapid construction of the Great Wall would depend on Notura.
A man who just needed wings to fly—
Arthur made up his mind.
“Then you should continue to be happy.”
“…Excuse me?”
Arthur stood up and walked over to Notura. Then, he reached out his hand and said:
“I’m offering you the official position of Lord of the City of Clayton. Will you accept it?”
Notura stared blankly at the hand extended toward him.
Lord of the city?
He had only ever taken on jobs under Arthur’s command.
And now this unbelievable reward was being handed to him—he looked dazed as he stared at Arthur.
“…But you’re the true master of this city.”
“I have too many other places to manage. I need someone who can take responsibility for this city on my behalf.”
“But I’m a former vagrant.”
“And so are hundreds of thousands of others who live in this city. Only you can manage their hearts.”
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be behind you.”
Those last words from Arthur—
That he would have his back—
Just like that, the heavy weight on Notura’s heart was lifted.
One sentence, and it felt like he could do anything.
Only then did Notura realize how firm his trust in Arthur had become.
He didn’t want to reject that trust.
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’ve made the right choice.”
Arthur shook the hand warmly, smiling in satisfaction.
A man capable of producing such results would certainly continue to excel.
“Italus of the Lenon Workshop is a seasoned and level-headed figure. If danger ever comes to the city, or you need help, seek him out. He will help you.”
“I’ll remember that.”
There and then, Arthur appointed Notura as the Lord of Clayton. Since Notura already had widespread support, there would be little opposition.
As Arthur continued reading through the documents, he asked Notura various questions about the city.
They spoke for quite some time until Arthur picked up a particular sheet.
A document concerning preparations for the festival.
“We should begin the festival right away.”
“Just give the order. Everything is ready.”
They had prepared so that the festival could begin as soon as Arthur arrived.
As Notura spoke with confidence, Arthur looked out the window.
The sun was beginning to set.
“Night is approaching.”
“It’s a bit late today, so perhaps tomorrow morni—”
“Let’s hold the opening ceremony tonight.”
“…Pardon?”
“Have you heard of the phrase ‘a burning night’?”
Arthur set the document down with a faint smile.
“When it comes to fun and drinking, night is always better than day.”
DOONG— DOONG— DOONG—
Heavy drumbeats pierced through the air, carried along the Kenline River by the wind.
The opening ceremony, marking the start of the festival, was held at Clayton’s main harbor.
Residents of Clayton, non-human units, and Tobaron’s army—
The only place that could accommodate the crowd—well over several hundred thousand—was this harbor.
The massive docks, divided into three sections, gradually filled with the crowd.
Zone 1 was occupied by the residents of Clayton.
Zone 2 was taken by the non-human forces, including the witches.
Zone 3 was where Tobaron’s army settled in.
Key figures from each faction boarded ships docked at the harbor.
Merchants, nobles, and knights—
On hundreds of large and small ships, they stood holding torches, all gazing toward one spot.
DOONG— DOONG— DOONG—
The drumbeats rang out again.
In the silence, the sound originated from a massive ship floating alone in the center of the Kenline River.
At the center of the ship rose an ornate platform.
Upon the red-carpeted platform appeared a stunning woman.
A beautiful blonde elf, wearing a pure white veil—
Nella stepped slowly onto the stage.
Her flowing white robe fluttered, and the World Tree emblem on her back danced with her movements.
At the beauty and sacredness of the scene, gasps rippled through the massive crowd.
Standing at the center of the stage, she slowly opened her mouth.
—"We will now begin the opening ceremony."
Her enchanting voice, projected with magical amplification, drew everyone’s attention.
The theme of this festival was “Unity.”
A grand festival meant to commemorate and celebrate unity. It required a ceremonial declaration beforehand.
That ceremony was led by none other than Nella, known as the Saintess.
[Fellowship That Breaks Down Walls]
With her divine power, she radiated a sacred presence, captivating everyone gathered.
As the atmosphere ripened under Nella’s guidance, familiar faces began to appear below the platform.
Seeing them, Nella smiled gently.
Dorneth Gader, the Dwarf King.
Elder Medeia, of the witches.
Lochter Felice.
And—
Arthur Clayton.
It was unfortunate that Fenry, Master of the Black Rose, couldn’t attend the festival. But she was the protector of the World Tree and couldn’t leave her post.
Instead, Medeia had come in her place. As the mother of witches and master of the Ordor Forest—where the World Tree grew—she was more than qualified.
With her robes straightened, Nella faced Arthur as he stepped forward.
When their eyes met, both offered faint smiles.
So much had changed since they first met.
Nella recalled those early days.
“Arthur, do you remember how we began?”
“Of course. You were the one who first proposed the three-party blood alliance.”
Thanks to Nella’s proposal, Arthur was able to form a blood pact with Beneta and the Black Rose.
That moment marked the beginning of an alliance between humans and non-human races.
And now—
“Everyone’s become such mighty trees. That old pact feels almost insignificant now.”
“Time has great power.”
Fenry had become the World Tree’s guardian. Dorneth had gone from Lord of Beneta to ruler of Tobaron.
And Arthur...
“If not for you, none of this would exist today.”
“It was built through everyone’s effort.”
“No—”
Nella shook her head.
The man standing before her had once been an unknown assassin.
Then he made his name known through an organization called Hunt, and through miraculous accomplishments, he became the leader of the entire Allied Forces.
There were no more blood pacts.
Only a single sovereign now stood.
Nella gently reached out, took Arthur’s hand, and led him to the front of the stage.
The others followed at a respectful distance.
As they walked, Nella spoke softly to Arthur.
“We’ve all grown into great trees, but even now, we all rely on you. When I look at you, I think of the World Tree. A grand being who shelters all.”
Standing under the watchful eyes of the massive crowd, she raised Arthur’s arm high.
Everyone’s gaze shifted to Arthur.
“The stage is set, Arthur.”
“Now it’s your turn.”
As Nella bowed and stepped back, Arthur let out a quiet sigh and turned his eyes forward.
As he took his place on the platform, torches were raised from ships surrounding him.
FWOOSH—
Hundreds, thousands of torches lit up atop the many ships.
It felt as if he were standing in the center of countless flames.
Beyond that, tens of thousands of people, divided into three factions, waited for him to speak.
The residents of Clayton.
The witches and non-human forces.
Tobaron’s army.
All had been a part of Arthur’s journey.
They knew who he was.
And the path he had walked.
Feeling a strange sense of emotion, Arthur slowly raised the goblet in front of him.
Inside was blood.
The blood of the Allied Forces’ leaders—this cup symbolized unity.
Arthur met the eyes of each leader beside him and drank the goblet in one long motion.
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
That was the signal.
All at once, everyone roared, pouring out the emotions they had held in.
The earth trembled, the Kenline River shook with noise.
Amid that burning enthusiasm, Arthur raised his empty goblet.
His voice rang out across the docks.
—"From this moment on, set aside your judgments about appearances, values, and feelings. Raise your goblets, and toast with the people across from you on the dock. If you do—"
As Arthur’s voice continued, the cheers began to quiet.
And then, he spoke again.
—"We will become one."
Thus began Clayton’s grand festival, celebrating unity.
And Arthur had marked its beginning.