Evil Samurai In Cultivation World

Over the years, General Ivan had met countless cultivators, both in and out of the battlefield. Some were idiots who only knew the way of the fists, while some were cold and calculative, waiting patiently for the right chance to strike. Some were lazy and climbed through the ranks through flattery and connections, while some were hardworking, highly trained individuals who would make even the most powerful tremble. Some were cowards who wouldn't even think twice about betraying someone, while others were braver than anyone else, who'd gladly welcome death rather than betraying their people.

General Ivan didn't know which one of them would best describe him. But then again, he had never thought about it before. He had always been a workaholic. Most people would consider this a bad thing, but not General Ivan. He had always enjoyed what he did, and he made sure that he spent his life doing what he enjoyed every single second. 

His work was his life and he never gave it too much thought. One mission after another. That was his life. 

General Ivan took out his binoculars and looked through it. The messenger they had sent was returning, heading in their direction; to the nameless town near the southeastern border that the soldiers called 'Valley of the Dead'. 

"Ever been here before, General?" The second in command, Sergeant Clay approached Ivan and asked, to which the General nodded his head.

"As a matter of fact, I have." The General took his eyes off the binoculars and turned his gaze towards the second in command. "This was my hometown."

Sergeant Clay's eyes widened with surprise. He was certainly amused. "Really? I knew you were not from around here, but I didn't know this was your hometown! That's surprising!"

"Yeah, it sure is." General Ivan nodded his head and began slowly walking towards the fast approaching messenger.

'I didn't think I'd be back here either..' Ivan let out a heavy sigh as he waited for the messenger. Already a soldier who had served more than eight years in the Royal Army, his childhood wasn't exactly a pretty one—he was a young beggar in the Valley of the dead had unfortunately gotten involved with the local thugs—realizing that he had no way of staying alive in the town, he decided that he had to get out of there once and for all. The next day he had secretly hitched a ride to the inner cities, leaving behind his pathetic past once and for all.

At least, that's what he thought. But now, here he was again, standing in the middle of the town that he once called home. 

"I don't know if I should be happy or sad that the town has become deserted..." Ivan looked around the deserted town, and thought to himself. 

A few years after he left, the town had been facing constant threats from the neighbouring country, Owale. As time went on, the conflicts became more and more prominent, and the town had been transformed into a war zone, leading to many people fleeing the town.

Although the town being deserted meant that the place where he had his rough and painful childhood memories was gone, deep down, Ivan wanted it to remain the same. He wanted everything and everyone to go back to the way it once was, just so he could see how much he had grown. He wanted to beat up the thugs who made his life a living hell, and he wanted to show all those who looked down on him his current status. But unfortunately, the town had been abandoned, and the people he once knew were gone.

'To think I was still holding onto the grudge…' General Ivan clutched his hands tightly as a bitter smile appeared on his face. He thought he had grown. He believed that he was past all that. But I guess some things never change unless you really look into it.

'Maybe I should think about my life a bit more…' 

Plop, plop, plop…

As the General was thinking, the messenger's horse had already arrived in front of him.

"What did the other party say, William?" General Ivan walked towards the messenger, who was getting down from the horse, and asked.

"The other party agrees to the Prince's wish for a meeting," The messenger, William, spoke quickly and he turned his head to face the General. "I couldn't read his face. I couldn't tell he was thinking, General, and I always know what they think."

"Is it that hard?" General Ivan asked as he folded his arms. Messenger William was someone who practiced physiognomy. He assessed a person's thoughts through their facial expressions, and usually was an integral part of General Ivan's plans.

Messenger William shook his head and bowed his head. "I apologize, General. But I don't think I can be of much help today." 

"It's alright." General Ivan waved his hands in response and continued, "I'm sure you did your best, William." As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the mountains far away, where he could see a small but bright light. "What else did they say?"

"They said that they'll arrive in a few minutes, right after the private army gets ready," The messenger spoke loudly, and General Ivan widened his eyes with surprise. "Private army? Did you not tell him that for the meeting to take place, he had to come with less than twenty men?"

"Uh, yes General… I did in fact say that," the messenger turned his gaze away from the General's face as he spoke. "But he didn't agree to the conditions. I apologise once again. I have failed to pursuade them."

"It's alright," General Ivan said as he clicked his tongue, irritated by the actions of the other party. 

'A few minutes, huh..' He stared at the small light that was shining like a star in the mountains, and squinted his eyes. 

'Let's see what makes you so special, Gilbert Gottfried..'

As if to reply to the General, the small light shone even brighter.

*****************

Inside the Royal Palace.

Under the escort of the Royal Guards, the Third Elder, Claude Rayforth and Senior Wilfred Beldon entered the Great Hall. As the doors slowly opened, Claude scanned the hall, studying the surroundings and saw that a young man wearing a luxurious robe was sitting firmly on the imperial throne in the middle of the hall.

This was of course, the new king of Argria, King Blake Bancroft. 

"A thousand blessings, your majesty." The Third Elder respectfully bowed to the new king of Argria, and both Claude and Senior Beldon followed suit.

The king smiled and nodded his head before opening his mouth. "Thank you, Third Elder. Because of your help, I was able to put on a great show for the citizens. For that, you have my gratitude."

"It was nothing, your majesty. I simply did my duty as a citizen of Argria and decided to protect its ruler. That is all," The Third Elder shook his head and spoke, and Claude really wished he could roll his eyes right then.

It had been two weeks since the terrorist attack at Josenheim. The coronation went ahead as planned - under strict protection, of course - and the crowd was erupting with joy the whole time.

It seemed that the whole 'King protecting the citizens' plot actually resonated with most of the citizens, as the cheers only got louder and louder as time went on.

Add to that one of the academies deciding to end their grudges and work together in order to save the country, and the plot was perfect! 

It seemed that the other academies had also realized that the public perception about the Royal Family had finally changed, because right after the whole incident, several academies began showing their support for the new king. 

"Third Elder, as part of my new plan as King, I have decided that the Golden Avarice Academy, Trinity Academy and the Silver Moon Academy be combined into one single academy! What do you think?" The smile on King Blake's face hadn't once halted as he spoke.

"Your majesty, I'm afraid I can't speak for the other Academies!" The Third Elder replied, and the King suddenly started laughing, his face revealing a carefree and joyful smile. "Do not worry, Elder. I have already spoken with the rest of the Headmasters, and they all agreed to the idea. I want it renamed as the 'Royal Academy of Argria', an academy under the Royal Family. The Monarchy will provide you with the funds, so you will no longer need to worry about money."

The King then stared at the Third Elder and said, "Third Elder, I want you to be the very first Headmaster of the Royal Academy of Argria. How about it?"

"Your majesty, are you really giving me the position of the Headmaster?" The Third Elder asked, and the King laughed in response. "Of course I am. It will boost the morale of the citizens as well. What do you say?" 

"If that's what your majesty wishes, then I'll gladly take the position. Thank you, your majesty!" The Third Elder spoke slowly, in a neither humble nor arrogant manner, and bowed his head once again.

"Good," the King smiled, and his eyes shifted towards the two who were standing behind the Third Elder, and said, "Now, how shall I reward the two of you?"