Chapter 22 – Under the Sovereign’s Protection
by inkadmin[ “What does the Sovereign wish for me to do?” ]
Hermos’ voice echoed through Pippin, breaking the lingering silence and Mark’s train of thought.
[ “Lady Carmilla’s patience is running thin, and the sound of those lamentations is frightening Lady Elizabeth. Karkinos has offered to—” ]
Mark did not answer immediately, ignoring Hermos. He remained seated, his gaze fixed on the wooden door of the room, processing the situation.
In the game, the Cindralisks had been nothing but pixels—a source of easy experience that he wiped out with a snap of his fingers while clearing invasion maps. They were the first race he had encountered in this world.
Seeing those same “mobs” acting with such strong will—enough to defy their own fear just to beg for survival—left him unsettled.
The description of the “men of metal with the sun in their hands” bothered him the most.
Something about it made him think of the Solis Empire.
And if the Empire was already close enough to the Ziggurat to be wiping out local monster tribes, then it would only be a matter of time before they knocked on his gate.
But the logistics didn’t add up.
From what Mark had heard, the Empire’s main conflict was happening along the eastern borders. What was an extermination force doing incinerating underground nests so close to his Ziggurat?
Mark hesitated.
Should he shelter the Cindralisks and stop them from being killed?
The idea sounded absurd.
Mark wasn’t exactly a protector of wildlife. Just yesterday he had destroyed an entire nest of sandworms on the way to Luminaris without the slightest bit of remorse. He wasn’t hypocritical enough to claim he cared about the well-being of a few desert lizards.
On the other hand, the Ziggurat was enormous, and its defensive and maintenance structure depended on servants. He couldn’t simply open the gates and allow hundreds of wild creatures to wander through its biomes—but he also couldn’t ignore a potential movement from the Empire within his territory.
Things were getting complicated.
“Hermos,” Mark finally said, his voice cold and decisive. “What servants remain under our command? Do not count the commanders.”
Through Pippin, Mark could feel Hermos’ brief confusion.
The question was unexpected, but with his impeccable efficiency, the butler quickly organized the numbers in his mind.
[ “Gathering the First Officers from each sector.” ] Hermos’ voice resumed, adopting the tone of a technical report while Pippin straightened his posture on the bed.
[ “Under Lady Carmilla’s authority, we have the Sanguine Knight. In Karkinos’ division, there is the Dragonfly Hunter. As for Lady Elizabeth’s wing…” ] Hermos hesitated before continuing.
[ “None have awakened. And under Malphas’ command, we have The Sutured.” ]
Mark listened to the names, closing his eyes for a moment as he forced his memory to retrieve the images of the cards and icons he used to see in the game’s interface.
The Sanguine Knight appeared in his mind as a heavily armored crimson knight, the type of unit he placed on the front line to absorb damage. The Dragonfly Hunter was a giant dragonfly that attacked from the air. And The Sutured was a stitched humanoid that functioned as a nearly indestructible tank.
He didn’t remember the exact levels of those servants, but he knew they all hovered around level 200. In the game, they were the ones who gave invaders trouble before they even reached the Commanders.
If the soldiers of the Solis Empire were truly the ones attacking the Cindralisks in the desert, sending mere cannon fodder would be useless.
Since he was in the city and returning to the Ziggurat wasn’t viable right now—and sending his commanders could attract attention—the elite servants were the perfect middle ground.
This was his best choice.
“Gather the Sanguine Knight, Dragonfly Hunter, and The Sutured,” Mark ordered, his mind already outlining a plan to handle the situation without needing to leave Luminaris immediately.
Despite not wanting to get involved, Mark would still send three of his lower-tier servants out of the Ziggurat. He wanted to resolve the situation with the least amount of effort.
If it was possible to avoid being implicated, that would be ideal—but since they had already reached the desert, he had little choice.
[ “Yes, my Lord.” ] Hermos replied quickly. Even so, his tone carried confusion and intrigue over his Sovereign’s choices. He clearly had many questions he wished to ask, but he did not.
Mark leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
Using his own resources to protect “mobs” still felt irrational, but the Solis Empire was advancing too quickly.
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If he allowed them to annihilate the Cindralisks, the next target would be the Ziggurat itself.
Sending level-200 servants would also test the strength of the other side.
Mark now had some idea of the power scale of this world.
If level-30 monsters could already give a group of Silver-Rank adventurers trouble, what would some of his level-200 servants do?
The curiosity to test the real performance of his forces in the physical world was beginning to outweigh his caution.
Mark was letting his gamer instincts take over.
Of course, if those scouts of “metal and sun” truly belonged to the Solis Empire… they were probably human.
“Hermos,” Mark said, his voice taking on a commanding authority. “Pass the orders. The three servants are to follow the lizards back to their territory.”
He paused, weighing his words.
“If they encounter the men of metal who carry the sun in their hands, they are not to kill them. Instruct them to declare that the Cindralisks are now under my protection. The servants must repel the threat—but without unnecessary deaths.”
[ “Repel… without killing, my Lord?” ] Hermos’ voice sounded stunned, almost a whisper of disbelief.
Internally, Mark felt how irrational that sounded.
Asking high-level monsters—creatures accustomed to defending the Ziggurat—to spare humans in direct conflict was almost a paradox.
But the idea of ordering the execution of human beings still made Mark deeply uncomfortable.
The game had placed him in Vaelin’s imposing body, but his mind was still Mark’s—someone who avoided real conflict whenever possible.
He couldn’t simply kill them.
“Yes. Just drive them away. I want them to know there is a force protecting that tribe, but I don’t want a declared war against the Empire.”
[ “As you wish, Sovereign.” ] Hermos replied, regaining his composure, though his voice now carried a restrained emotion.
[ “Your orders will be conveyed with precision. Know that we all eagerly await the day when you will once again walk these halls. The Ziggurat breathes because of you, if—” ]
He seemed about to begin a long speech of loyalty and devotion, but suddenly cut himself off. His tone shifted instantly—from reverence to sharp authority directed at the small servant.
[ “And you, Pippin! You must protect the Sovereign in this city of humans. Understood?” ]




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