Gacha System: Reborn In The Hardest World
Chapter 31: The Crown’s Trial

Chapter 31: The Crown’s Trial

Besides the cataclysmic beast that loomed in the back of the room, he set his sights on the Monarch; the man in the throne looked no older than his mid-twenties, with fair, dark-brown skin. A cape made of the pelt of a snow-white beast laid on the Monarch’s shoulders as he rested his cheek against his hand, staring back at him with regal, golden irises.

The Monarch addressed him, "I hold great respect for Blythe, and in such, I have granted you the grace of meeting me. You are now in the presence of the Monarch, so show proper respect and state your name, Outlander."

Though he had no concept of this world’s gestures, he took the stance only natural when in the presence of true royalty–

Taking to a knee, he obliged the Monarch before announcing himself, "I’m Gael, knight of Blythe Peonyvale."

"Stand, Gael, knight of Blythe Peonyvale," the Monarch ordered casually with a raise of his hand.

As he rose, he looked up at the throne, witnessing the colossal lion lean its head closer, staring him down with its primordial mane, silken yet aged. The seated Monarch stroked the mane as if it were nothing more than a house cat, bringing the grand beast to rest its head back down.

"What is it you seek by coming to Galios?" The Monarch questioned.

Though his first thought was that he never planned to come here, and that it wasn’t his choice, he knew such a nothing answer would be insufficient for the man of supreme authority. What surfaced in his mind were the fresh memories–the clashes of life-and-death, being hunted for his mere existence, those who died as a result–

"I want to kill the Venator," Gael answered honestly.

The answer brought a slight widening to the golden eyes of the Monarch, who lifted from his bored position in the throne.

"The Venator...Did you come here to ask us to do the job for you?" The Monarch asked, standing himself up.

With the supreme authority rising from his throne, the black-furred lion woke up as well, looming over the guest.

"No," Gael answered, feeling sweat leave his pores as his heart pounded in his ears, overshadowed by the colossal beast. "...I want to do it. I just can’t do it alone."

The Monarch raised his hand, bringing the grand lion to withdraw with the simple gesture before following up, "Then your desire is to join the ranks of Galios? I take it your goal then is to become one of the Heavenly Kings?"

"I don’t know anything about that...All I know is that Galios is the only kingdom that can stand up to Mastorn. I’ve got a question for you...Does Galios intend to do that?" Gael asked, using every ounce of strength in his body to command an answer.

It seemed being questioned was a fresh experience for the Monarch, who stared with a concoction of intrigue and ire before descending from the royal steps, "Galios was the first human kingdom to break off from the teat of the gods. For centuries, we’ve built our strength through conquering the land of giants, pushing the boundaries of human invention. We’ve done so not because we were afraid of the gods’ scorn, nor burning everything away."

"--" Gael remained silent, listening as he watched the man descend as his bestial cape dragged across the blackened steps.

"Mastorn never strayed from the gods. They were weak, cowards; in the Divine Rebellion, they betrayed the Human Alliance, siding with the gods. In the end, humanity won, yet–Mastorn somehow or another has retained the blessings of the divine," the Monarch recalled.

"Thanks for the history lesson, but why’re you telling me this?" Gael asked.

At the bottom of the steps, the Monarch stopped, staring at him at an even level, "You asked if Galios intends to "stand up" to Mastorn. It is my purpose to cut away humanity’s ties to the gods, and welcome in the complete Age of Mankind. To do that, Mastorn must be crushed."

"Then?--" Gael began to ask.

The Monarch swiftly interrupted him, "However, I have yet to decide if you were a beneficial part of that."

A distinct shift in the air within the royal chamber came, like a phantom breathing down his neck. He couldn’t place the odd sensation at first, only realizing as he watched the Monarch hold his hand out to the side–it was malice that he felt.

"I will verify your strength myself, and make my conclusions only then. If you’re deemed strong, you will be welcomed into Galios," the Monarch claimed as an air of frost expanded from his hand, crystalizing into a solid form. "If you’re deemed weak, you will be discarded."

Gael found the air becoming rapidly colder, witnessing the frost wielded by the Monarch take the shape of a greatsword forged of silver ice, "--Hold on! Right here–right now?!"

"Read yourself, or you will die, Outlander," the Monarch promptly warned, only once.

["Again...What the hell is wrong with this place?! Even the damn Monarch wants to fight!"]

There was little choice but to engage as he shouted out, "Temporary Summon: Weapon!"

[Temporary weapon summoning initiated.]

At the same moment the command left his lips, he found the Monarch coming right for him with blinding speed. The only thing he could do was duck down, feeling a cold wind harshly blow over as the frost-made greatsword swung right above his head.

[Weapon Temporarily Obtained: (N) "Weightless Barrier Shield"]

Into his hand, a large, though light shield manifested as he rolled past the hostile ruler. Right behind him, he could feel that cold wind rising, bringing the hairs on his arms to stand.

Before he could even take a few steps, he spun around, raising the shield–

CLANG

–It proved to be the right choice as he felt the impact of that frostbitten blade strike right against the shield. The force behind the blocked blow rippled, vibrating through his arms as he found himself sliding back against his will, even as he braced his body.

’...This strength is ridiculous! I know my body has gotten way stronger lately, but this guy–he’s different,’ he thought.

He came to a sliding stop as his heels pressed against the bottom steps of the throne, looking past the shield at the Monarch.

The golden-eyed man didn’t approach him, yet lifted the frozen blade up to prepare for a swing from afar, disregarding distance entirely.

He didn’t know what was coming, only knowing to plant himself down on a knee, tucking himself behind the shield as he braced. All he could see was the emerald shine of the shield’s interior, pressing close to it.

The air howled as the frosted blade was brought down, bringing with it a storm of icy winds. An immediate drop in temperature was felt as he shivered; goosebumps rose across his body as he breathed out frost.

"You are aware that this is not a test of survival, but of strength," the Monarch announced. "--If all you can do is shield yourself and hope to live, then you will be discarded."

Biting frost crawled over the shield, gripping it in its cold embrace. The entire chamber had become instilled with the bone-chilling air, encasing the statues in the heartless element.

[Temporary summoning over.]

As the shield vanished without a trace, there was no sign of the Outlander behind it, much to the curiosity of the ruler.

"Oh?" The Monarch watched.

Into the unseen, Gael raced with the quietest steps he could muster, positioning himself behind the royal statues.

"Warp magic? No, you’re simply hiding your appearance," the Monarch quickly deduced, scraping his frosted blade across the ground as his golden eyes darted to the side.

There wasn’t a chance to make a move, forcing Gael to stay behind the statue as he felt the royal gaze go his way. It was an unnerving feeling, as if he was being watched, even while unseen.

As the shroud of invisibility wore off, he heard the footsteps of the supreme ruler of Galios approaching.

’I swear I didn’t make a sound when moving through the chamber. There’s something with those eyes of his–it’s like they see through everything. Blythe told me he would know if I lied...Is it something to do with that?’ He considered.

The opportunity to analyze his opponent was cut short as he jumped out from the statue, finding that greatsword swung his way immediately–

He faced it directly, not shying away as he clapped his hands together just as the massive blade was swung down towards his head:

"Ngh–?!"

A shock wave rippled from the meeting of his hands, shouting outward as the sword-wielding Monarch was thrown back by the sudden force. The regal warrior caught himself as his boots slid across the smooth, steel floor, using his blade to halt his movements.

"Not bad," the Monarch complimented as his hair swayed in the traces of wind.

–Gael didn’t let up, sucking a breath into his lungs as he pushed both hands forward towards the briefly stunned ruler. The seals engraved into his arms burned with power, siphoning the mana right from his body before–the dragons woke from their slumber.