[It seems that was too difficult. I understand. In such confusion it must be hard to think straight. I was inconsiderate. Hm, still, since it looks like you all already know the answer, I’ll just add a brief explanation.]
The man pushed his monocle up. Light flared off the lens, giving off a foreboding gleam. Yet no one could take their eyes off him. Distance meant nothing; wherever their vision reached, there he was, his voice pounding evenly in their skulls.
[On the official server of Elix, if you die here, you will be granted eternal rest. At the same time, your empire will be “recovered.” In other words, it means the destruction of your empire. So please, do your utmost to survive. Now, look at the portals before you.]
One by one, eyes mixed with rage, sorrow, fear, and despair turned toward the portals. Among them were those who quickly grasped the situation, keeping their cool and searching for a way to live.
[These are your magnificent creations. If you have an empire, you should recognize your portal at a glance. As a side note, your subjects are even now desperately awaiting their king’s return. Do not be so quick to assume that their reception will be kind. Also, stepping through a portal is your choice.]
He gave a sly wink, delivering a warning steeped in dissonance. It was cunning, calculated.
Billwill was looking for an example. The way his crafty eyes darted around made that much clear. And the first to take the bait was a middle-aged man in the crowd, staring hungrily at the portal.
When Billwill’s narrow eyes curled like thread and then flicked open again, the man shoved through the people with his heavy body and moved toward the dazzling light of the portal.
“Heh! Kindness? They think they can give or withhold kindness from their king?! How do they dare? Do they know how I raised them? Shameless wretches! They can’t even come out to greet me? I poured time into them that could have minted mountains of gold bars!”
[When crossing to your empire, please complete your Awakening first.]
Billwill smiled politely as he spoke. The middle-aged man with a belly like a mountain snorted, then jabbed his finger at the empty air.
The moment his finger pressed down, flames roared up from his toes. The fire devoured him, leaving only ash, until at last the blaze burned out. When it faded, the man was no longer just portly and sneering—his eyes glared bloodshot, and molten skin bubbled across his body. A monster clad in magma.
Mocking the trembling crowd, he swept his gaze across them, now wearing the guise of an arrogant king, and strode into the portal.
The brilliant portal swallowed him whole. At that instant, another sharp snap echoed in the void.
[Look here.]
Still with his hand poised as if having snapped, Billwill spoke flatly. Behind him loomed a mirror so massive it seemed to swallow everything. Its blank surface rippled—then showed a warped image.
Everyone in the void gasped.
“Ah… ahh…”
“What… what is that…!”
“Urgh…!”
The clearer the mirror grew, the louder the groans of despair. Inside it was the same middle-aged man, his skin glowing like lava, his eyes wild.
But gone was his arrogance. Now he writhed, screaming in terror. His hands clawed the ground, leaving bloody streaks as he begged for life.
Cries and retching burst out across the crowd. Some clamped hands over mouths, eyes wide and wet. Sehyun squeezed his eyes shut.
The man howled for mercy, but his voice reached no one. As if they had waited for this very day, the empire’s knights and soldiers drove their spears through him and dragged him like livestock up the walls of the city.
Blood sprayed, chunks of flesh torn away as he flailed, choking, desperate to survive. But once hauled to the top of the wall, dozens of spears pierced him at once. He died then and there.
A pointless death.
It was his retainers—burning with resentment and hatred—who severed his head. They mounted it on a spear atop the wall.
Many could not bear to watch. They turned away just as a shattering roar and quake shook the space. It was the news of that empire’s destruction.
The retainers, faces set with grim resolve, accepted their end as the kingdom collapsed. Having killed their king, they embraced ruin.
The quake continued until the empire crumbled into dirt and vanished without a trace. The once-bright portal dulled to gray, as if lifeless.
[Dictatorship. Tyranny. Indulgence. Corruption. Neglect. Complacency. Sloth. Oppression. Politics by fear.]
The words, like a soliloquy, fell upon the frozen crowd. Billwill’s eyes behind the monocle closed slowly, then opened again.
[Every player has stumbled into these corruptions at least once. Some kings recognized their mistakes and corrected their rule. Many did not. No one can predict the outcome. Do not expect your subjects to welcome you with kindness. They are not NPCs made of zeros and ones.]
“T-they… you mean they’re real? Alive?”
[A little explanation is needed. The residents of your empires—the retainers—are all beings superior to you. When uniting Sectors 1 through 500, there is no life on Earth that is above them. And each player, each empire, is tied to a different race and traits. That is because every empire is seeded with the races of different planets.]
Each empire its own race. The aptitude test assigned players characters of unique race and appearance. Not once had two players ever received the same race, or the same Daegong.
That uniqueness was what drove the frenzy for Elix. Every player, every empire, had a different color, culture, politics. Scarcity and rarity.
The bigger the empire grew, the more loyalty and trust from retainers diverged depending on welfare policies. With every variable different, player-written strategy guides ended up nothing more than introductions.
Their own empire. People were obsessed with the rarity. They strategized, schemed, poured themselves into building and surviving.
[In other words, the residents of your empires are creatures of other planets. Highly advanced beings, at that. They have waited desperately for the day of their king’s return—and they know today is that fated day.]
“So you’re saying… we’re all meant to die! Then why even—!”
[That part you need not worry about. As you saw, if the king dies, the empire vanishes without a trace. That is the empire’s ruin. To kill their king, your subjects would have to be prepared for their own end. It will not be easy. The king is the empire’s very life. If you die, your empire will fall. On the other hand, if your people hate you so much they are willing to kill you… hm, then you were never fit to be a king.]
The fate of a king who ruled through fear. That was Billwill’s message. Sweet, dangerous words enough to shake everyone.
[This is the planet Elix, in Sector 450, with a landmass four hundred times that of Earth. The largest among its sector’s planets. Here, the people yearn more than anything to see their empire flourish. Even now, they wait for their kings to restore them.]
“If… if someone has no empire… or can’t reach it… what then…?”
A quivering voice rose. At those words, some who had been sitting in shock suddenly lifted their heads, staring at Billwill.
[Then you need not go. A king has the power to found a new empire. That is, you may build a new one. If you have none, create one. If you cannot go, then don’t. But if you already have an empire, you cannot create another. In that case, your subjects may hunt down the king who does not return and take dreadful vengeance. Of course… that is merely an example.]
“V-vengeance…?”
“Then… then there’s no way… to abandon an empire?”