My life as a king

The grand Council Hall of Belfort was abuzz with tension as Roman arrived. The summons had been abrupt, the reason undisclosed, but Roman knew it had to do with his recent actions in the capital. Dressed in his regal attire, he entered the hall with a confident stride, his four newly ascended Aura Swordsmen trailing closely behind. Their presence was both a statement and a warning to anyone thinking of opposing the young king.

The nobles and councilmen whispered among themselves as Roman took his seat at the head of the table. Prime Minister Velden Rohein, ever the picture of composure, stood to address the assembly. His words were polished, his tone courteous, but there was a sharpness to his gaze as he spoke.

"Your Majesty," Velden began, bowing slightly, "we, the Council of Belfort, are gathered here to discuss the recent... actions taken under your direct command. The eradication of the gangs within the capital has stirred both the people and this council. However, the loss of soldiers under your leadership cannot be ignored. Might I remind Your Majesty that soldiers are a valuable resource of this kingdom, not to be squandered lightly?"

Roman sat back, listening intently as Velden continued his thinly veiled reprimand. The prime minister's eloquence was undeniable, his words carefully chosen to sow doubt among the councilmen about Roman's decision-making.

"We must question the wisdom of such endeavors," Velden said, his voice rising slightly. "To send so many untrained men into the heart of danger without consulting this council... it is a decision that warrants scrutiny. After all, it is our shared responsibility to safeguard this kingdom and its future."

Roman's expression remained unreadable, but the tension in the room was palpable. The councilmen exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how the young king would respond.

Finally, Roman leaned forward, his hands resting on the table. His voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the murmurs. "Prime Minister," he began, his tone measured, "I understand your concerns, but let me make one thing clear. These soldiers you speak of are not yours. They are not the council's. They are mine."

The room fell silent. The weight of his words hung in the air as Roman continued, his gaze unwavering. "I summoned them. I trained them. I led them. And I will decide how they are used. The soldiers who fought and died did so under my orders, not yours. If you wish to question my decisions, do so directly, not through insinuations and half-truths."

The councilmen shifted uncomfortably in their seats. This was not the hesitant boy they had expected to see. Roman's demeanor was that of a ruler—a king who would not be questioned lightly.

Velden's face tightened, but he forced a smile. "Your Majesty, my intentions were merely to advise, as is my duty."

"Then advise," Roman replied sharply. "Do not lecture. And do not forget your place, Prime Minister."

The boldness of Roman's words sent a ripple through the council. Some of the older nobles exchanged knowing glances, recognizing the emergence of a true king. Others bristled, their pride wounded by Roman's assertiveness. Velden, for his part, was visibly seething, though he masked it well.

The meeting ended soon after, with Velden and his allies leaving in silence. As Roman exited the hall, his head held high, the councilmen of Belfort watched him with a mix of awe and unease. For the first time, they saw not a boy thrust onto the throne but a king with the resolve to rule.

---

Back in his quarters, Roman allowed himself a moment to breathe. The confrontation with Velden had been taxing, but necessary. He knew his actions had made enemies within the council. Velden, in particular, would not take the humiliation lying down.

The thought of Velden's potential retaliation didn't escape him. Roman was acutely aware of the dangers he faced. The prime minister had influence, resources, and a network of loyalists who would stop at nothing to secure their power. "He's already plotting," Roman murmured to himself. "But let him come. I'm not as defenseless as he thinks."

Turning his attention to his soldiers, Roman called for the remaining 150 men who had survived the recent battles. They gathered in the training grounds, their faces hardened by the trials they had endured. Many of them bore scars, both physical and emotional, from their encounters with the gangs.

Among them, the four Aura Swordsmen stood as a testament to the potential within Roman's army. Their newfound strength radiated from them, and their loyalty to Roman was unwavering. "You will be my personal guard," Roman announced, addressing the four. "Your duty is to protect me, this kingdom, and its future. Your strength is my strength."

The rest of the soldiers, though not yet Aura Swordsmen, were on the brink of transformation. Roman could see it in their eyes, their posture, their resolve. They had tasted battle, and it had changed them. They were no longer raw recruits but hardened warriors, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Roman addressed the group as a whole, his voice carrying across the training grounds. "You've proven yourselves in battle," he said. "You've endured loss, pain, and hardship, but you've emerged stronger. This is only the beginning. I will train you, equip you, and lead you. Together, we will rebuild this kingdom and make it something to be proud of."

The soldiers cheered, their voices echoing through the castle grounds. Roman felt a surge of pride and determination. He was no longer the uncertain man who had woken up in this strange new world. He was a king, and he would rule as one.

---

Meanwhile, Velden sat in his chambers, his mind racing with plans. The humiliation he had suffered in the council was a blow to his pride, but it had also solidified his resolve. "This boy," he muttered, "he's dangerous. If we let him continue, he'll become unstoppable."

Velden's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his next move. He knew Roman's strengths, but he also knew his weaknesses. The young king was bold, but boldness could be exploited. Velden would bide his time, gathering his resources and allies. When the moment was right, he would strike.

"He'll regret crossing me," Velden vowed. "I'll make sure of it."

---

Roman, unaware of Velden's scheming, returned to his chambers. He knew the road ahead would be treacherous, but he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The soldiers who had fought and bled for him were living proof that his vision for the kingdom was possible.

As he stood by the window, looking out over the city, Roman allowed himself a moment of hope. The challenges were immense, but for the first time, he felt ready to face them. The boy was gone. In his place stood a king.