RISING OF THE GOLEM KING FROM ZERO TO HERO, Volume 1, Part One by H. L. Watson - HTML preview

Chapter 9

The first few days after the meeting with the Tinkerer's assistant were filled with a flurry of activity. As a slave, I was immediately put to work alongside the household staff, learning the ropes of the daily routine. Dawn arrived with the sharp ring of a brass bell, summoning servants from their quarters to begin the day's labor. The manor stirred to life, a hive of coordinated movement as floors were swept, hearths stoked, and breakfast prepared.

I was tasked with various menial duties—carrying water from the well to the kitchen, splitting firewood for the cooking hearths, and assisting with the cleaning of common areas. My muscles ached from unaccustomed labor, hands growing calloused from rough work. The stone floors of the manor were cool beneath my feet, walls thick enough to maintain a pleasant temperature even as the dual suns climbed higher in the azure sky outside. As I went about my duties, moving through the manor's labyrinthine corridors and sun-dappled courtyards, I couldn't help but marvel at the strange and fascinating world around me. The architecture blended practicality with subtle artistic flourishes—archways carved with intricate patterns, window frames adorned with metalwork that caught the light in mesmerizing ways. The garden courtyard contained plants wholly unfamiliar to me—flowers with petals that shifted color throughout the day, trees with spiral-patterned bark, and fruits that pulsed with faint luminescence as they ripened.

It was during this time that I first learned the name of this world - Iriddoria. The name resonated with an almost musical quality when spoken, a melodic combination of syllables that seemed to capture the essence of this magical realm. It meant "gateway of lights" in the unfamiliar language that I magically understood here, a fitting description for a world where even the air seemed infused with subtle energy. The name captivated me, and I immediately sought out more information about it.

To my surprise, the household cook, Adele, who was also Dahlia's mother and affectionately known as the kitchen mother, was happy to answer my questions. The kitchen became my sanctuary during off-hours, a warm space filled with the comforting aromas of baking bread, simmering stews, and herbs hanging from the rafters. Steam rose from copper pots arranged on the massive hearth, creating a perpetual mist that caught the light streaming through high windows. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of meat on iron griddles formed a culinary symphony that somehow put me at ease.

Adele was a petite woman whose graceful movements belied the strength she'd developed from years of kneading dough and hoisting heavy pots. Her dark brown hair, so unlike her daughter's vibrant pink, was always bound in a practical bun at the nape of her slender neck, with occasional strands of silver catching the kitchen's warm light. Deep laugh lines framed her mouth, testament to a spirit that had weathered hardship without surrendering joy, while her hazel green eyes—shifting between amber and emerald depending on the light—held wisdom earned through years of observing the world from her kitchen domain. Despite approaching her late forties, Adele retained a striking beauty that prompted whispers among newer household staff, particularly when one noticed how little she resembled her daughter beyond their shared delicate features and certain graceful mannerisms. Her worn apron bore the stains of countless meals prepared, a record of service written in gravy and berry juice, adding a humble counterpoint to the quiet dignity she carried through the manor's halls. Looking back, I realized that Adele had taken a liking to me because she had heard about my assistance to her daughter. The way she slid extra portions onto my plate when no one was looking, or how she found small tasks for me in the kitchen's warm embrace rather than in the drafty corridors, spoke of a quiet gratitude that transcended our respective positions in the household.

"Sit yourself down, boy," she would say, gesturing to a worn wooden stool tucked in the corner by the hearth. "No sense standing when there's sitting to be done." Her voice carried the same musical lilt as Dahlia's, though tempered by age and experience. As we talked during quiet moments between meal preparations, Adele shared with me that the Kingdom I had arrived in was known as The Valtterrium Empire, a fantastical empire that resembled what my world would have called the Roman or the Byzantine empire. The comparison helped orient me, giving me a mental framework to understand this new political reality.

"Though," I commented, remembering my history lessons, "it would have probably been more accurate to describe them as the Holy Roman Empire, which was neither holy nor Roman." The observation slipped out, a fragment of Earth knowledge that seemed suddenly irrelevant in this new world.

Adele chuckled at that, her shoulders shaking slightly as she continued to knead dough with practiced efficiency. "Sounds like empires are the same everywhere—grand names hiding complicated truths." Her hands never stopped working even as she spoke, forming patterns in the dough that seemed almost meditative.

When Adele spoke, I listened intently, fascinated by the history of this new world. The kitchen's ambient sounds—the bubble of pots, the crackle of the fire, the distant calls of servants in other parts of the house—formed a background to her storytelling. Sometimes she would pause to taste a sauce or add a pinch of some unfamiliar spice, the movements so ingrained they required no conscious thought.

She told me that The Valtterrium Empire was the successor state to a much greater empire during Iriddoria's golden age known as the Donnagarian Age. Her eyes took on a distant look when she spoke of ancient times, as if she could see back through the centuries to a world long vanished. "The time of the Donnagarian Empire was the first recorded golden age of this world," she explained, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron. "Its legacy lives on in the myths and legends of the people." The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, lending an almost mystical quality to her words.

Adele went on to recount some of those legends to me, her voice dropping to a near-whisper as if sharing secrets not meant for common ears. The kitchen staff moved around us, giving respectful distance when they sensed the importance of our conversation. Stories of how the early progenitors of that empire arrived in this world in the same way that I had, through magic gates powered by that world's unique form of magic. These gates allowed them access to new lands where the people were comparably primitive, but this world had resources that their own did not, so they began to colonize it.

"Imagine," she said, gesturing with a wooden spoon for emphasis, "beings from beyond the sky, wielding powers beyond comprehension, arriving in our world." Her expression conveyed both awe and a hint of ancestral fear.

However, the native inhabitants of Iriddoria took exception to their presence. Some chose to resist, while others outright attacked and attempted to destroy the otherworlders. These people, not born on this world, were often referred to as "otherworlders," a term which later I found out was commonly used to describe people who, like me, were not native to this world. When Adele continued her captivating tales of Iriddoria, she spoke of the early native kingdoms that had formed alliances to resist what they called "otherworlder-encroachment." Her voice hardened slightly when she spoke of resistance and conquest, perhaps carrying echoes of stories passed down through generations of her own family.

"But their efforts were in vain," she said with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "The resisting kingdoms were destroyed and left in ruins." She paused to check a pot bubbling on the hearth, adjusting its position with the ease of long practice. I was shocked to hear this, because even though I had never witnessed a combat-class warrior in action before in person, I nevertheless had met many of them in this place, and the immense power that each of these men exuded made me realize that they were not beings to be trifled with. The guards who patrolled Jiren's manor moved with lethal grace, their posture and alertness speaking of years of training. Even at rest, they conveyed a sense of contained power, like predators momentarily at ease but capable of explosive action at any instant. I had already witnessed them perform incredible feats of strength and agility with apparent ease, as they patrolled and safeguarded the manor house. One guard had casually lifted a fallen stone column that would have required several men from Earth, moving it aside as if it weighed nothing. Another had leaped from the ground to a second-story balcony in a single bound, pursuing an intruding animal that had somehow breached the walls. Adele explained that back then the gate to the otherworld was easily accessible, and the otherworlders were able to send reinforcements through the gate continuously. The late afternoon sun slanted through the kitchen windows as she spoke, dust motes dancing in the golden beams. Their numbers never seemed to dwindle, and they possessed ancient, extremely powerful machines known as golems.

"Some of these golems were as colossal as mountains," she said, her hands forming shapes in the air to convey impossible scale. "And they strode the earth like Titans, capable of decimating entire battalions of combat-class warriors on their own." Her expression held a mixture of fear and reverence, as if speaking of forces beyond mortal comprehension. The thought of facing such an indomitable foe was terrifying. I couldn't begin to imagine how the people of Iriddoria must have felt, knowing that their world was being invaded by an apparently unstoppable force. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, more confined, as my mind grappled with the scale of what Adele described.

Adele went on to explain that due to the technological advantage of the otherworlder empire, there was no hope of resisting them. She kneaded her dough with renewed vigor, perhaps channeling some ancient frustration as she spoke of conquest and subjugation. Adele then spoke of the aftermath of the fighting, where the Donnagarian Empire emerged as the new and unquestioned authority of this world. This authority united many of its inhabitants through might and economic means, leading to the first golden age of sorts. Roads were built to the four corners of the empire, goods were exchanged, and peace was established for 2000 years, after the great consolidation. It was a time of prosperity and growth, a time when the people of Iriddoria flourished.

"Even in conquest, there can be progress," she admitted, her tone suggesting complicated feelings about this history. "The roads they built still carry our traders. The aqueducts they designed still bring water to our cities."

However, as Adele spoke of this time, I could sense a tinge of sadness in her voice. Her movements slowed, her usual efficiency giving way to something more contemplative. She went on to share more of the legends, and it soon became clear why. "Supposedly, the gates to the otherworld collapsed," she said, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "And the otherworlders who were left in this world were unable to open them again or reestablish contact with their world of origin." The kitchen had grown quieter, the day's major work completed, staff moving with subdued purpose to prepare for the evening meal. "They were stranded in Iriddoria, cut off from support, and were forced to create a new life for themselves."

As I sat there listening to Adele's stories of Iriddoria, perched on my stool by the hearth, my mind was racing with questions and wonder. The scale of the events she described left me in awe, with the rise and fall of empires, the clash of worlds and cultures, and the blending of technologies and ideas that had taken place. It was fascinating to think about how these two worlds had merged, creating something entirely new and unique. The kitchen smelled of baking bread and simmering spices, a counterpoint to the epic tales of conquest and civilization. Outside, I could hear the ordinary sounds of manor life—servants calling to one another, the clatter of a dropped tool, the distant whinny of horses in the stable. The mundane present seemed impossibly removed from the legendary past, yet irrevocably shaped by it.

Adele went on to explain that after some time had passed since the gates had collapsed, the otherworlders left on this side set up a new governance structure that ultimately reorganized the colony into a lesser empire, still calling themselves the Donnagarian Empire. She paused to wipe her hands on her apron, leaving ghostly white handprints in the flour. "At first, things went well," she continued, moving to stir a pot of fragrant stew. Steam rose in aromatic clouds, carrying scents of herbs and spices I couldn't name. "The people of this world enjoyed many of the advancements that the otherworlders brought with them, such as medicine, food storage, and magical engineering, among countless other things." The kitchen gradually emptied as kitchen staff completed their tasks, leaving us in relative privacy. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting the room in a warm, orange glow that seemed to create a bubble of intimacy around our conversation. However, as Adele continued to speak, it became clear that even in a world of magic and wonder, there was still conflict and violence. The formerly vanquished kingdoms began to reestablish themselves and reassert their dominance, leading to fights over control and power, and innocent people died on both sides during these chaotic days. "War is the same in any world," Adele said with the weariness of someone who had seen its effects firsthand. "It's never the rulers who suffer most, but the common folk caught between forces they cannot control." She brushed a stray strand of hair back from her forehead, leaving a smudge of flour on her temple.

It was a sobering thought, but as Adele explained, it was also a reminder of the resilience of the people of Iriddoria, their ability to rise again and again from the ashes of defeat. Her expression softened with pride when she spoke of resistance and recovery. Eventually, this culminated in the collapse of the lesser Donnagarian Empire, and the successor kingdoms began to fight amongst themselves for the territories formerly controlled by the collapsed empire. As I looked out through the kitchen window at the world around me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and wonder. The courtyard was visible from where I sat, servants crossing with baskets of laundry or armloads of firewood. Beyond the manor walls, the rooftops of Azure Reach spread in a tapestry of terracotta and slate, smoke rising from countless chimneys into the late afternoon sky. There were still so many secrets to discover about this place, so much to learn and explore. What hidden treasures lay buried beneath the earth? What forgotten tales whispered on the wind?

Adele went on to explain that the collapse of the lesser Donnagarian Empire occurred about 100 years ago, while the collapse of the magic gates happened around 1000 years ago from the current day. She marked these dates by tapping her fingers on the wooden table, creating a timeline in the thin dusting of flour. Despite the passage of time, the legacy of the otherworlders continued to shape Iriddoria, with their technology and knowledge still influencing the people and their way of life.

"You can see it in our buildings," she said, gesturing broadly to encompass the manor. "In our tools, our weapons, even in the spells our mages cast. The old knowledge, passed down and changed, but never forgotten."

But Adele then explained, the legacy of the otherworlders was not always a positive one. Her face darkened, a shadow passing across features usually animated by warmth. Due to xenophobia and fear of the royal family of the old empire, many lesser Donnagarian royals were hunted down and exterminated to prevent their rise again, back then. In their place, the more powerful successor kingdoms emerged, claiming themselves as the rightful inheritors of the possessions of the old empire. One of these kingdoms was now known as The Valtterrium Empire. In their early struggles, The Valtterrium Empire reconquered many of the lesser kingdoms under their banner. However, due to their constant expansion of land, they were always fighting with neighboring kingdoms, leading to a great need for soldiers. These soldiers were men and women with magical combat classes, which were the equivalent of nuclear weapons in this world. It seemed that the balance of power was usually determined by how many trained combat-class soldiers you had under your banner.

"A single combat-class warrior," Adele said, lowering her voice though we were alone in the kitchen, "can destroy an entire company of regular soldiers. Imagine what an army of them can do." Her eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the respect of someone who understood just how devastating such power could be.

Supposedly, this was why the current emperor's ministers put together a plan to gather more combat classes by using the discovered ancient ruins of the old lesser Donnagarian Empire. The fire had burned down to glowing embers now, and Adele added a few small logs, stoking it back to life. The fresh flames illuminated her face from below, emphasizing the lines experience had etched around her eyes and mouth. It was said that these ruins held secrets of the past, powerful artifacts and knowledge that could be used to create more powerful combat classes and strengthen the empire's position in the ongoing conflicts.

As I sat listening to Adele's captivating tales of Iriddoria, I found myself lost in a world of magic, wonder, and intrigue. The kitchen had grown dark beyond the circle of firelight, shadows gathering in corners and beneath tables. The stories were filled with secrets and mysteries, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer scale and complexity of the world she described.

According to Adele, the Donnagarian Empire's rulers had tried in vain to find their way back home, creating their own magic gate machines. She rose to check something in the pantry, returning with a handful of dried herbs that she crushed between her palms before adding to a pot. The pungent aroma filled the air, sharp and medicinal. However, despite their best efforts, the program failed, and the gates were sealed away in underground vaults. But the Valtterrium Empire had recently discovered these vaults and begun using them to bring in otherworlders, mainly because otherworlders are generally known to have greater potential for magical abilities than the natives, but the main drawback was that potential powerful otherworlders who had no loyalty to this world, or the empire, could be brought through the gates potentially as well. After she told me that, Adele remarked to herself, a risky move that could have grave consequences. "It's a dangerous game they're playing," I remarked to Adele, sensing the potential for chaos and disruption. The words felt inadequate against the backdrop of imperial machinations and interdimensional politics.

Adele nodded gravely, her expression serious, lips pressed into a thin line. "Indeed, the otherworlders they bring in could be incredibly powerful, but more often than not, they're unpredictable." She glanced at me, perhaps remembering that I myself was one such otherworlder, brought here against my will. Her eyes held a mixture of sympathy and caution— understanding my situation while recognizing the unknown potential I represented. The idea of unknown forces and magic users being brought into this already volatile world filled me with unease. It was one thing to explore and discover new worlds, but involving oneself in the political machinations and power struggles of a foreign land was something I personally consider to be a risky and dangerous game. I thought of the power I had seen in even the household guards—the casual strength, the inhuman speed—and tried to imagine beings with even greater abilities, thrust into an unfamiliar world with no allegiance to its people or customs. Currently, the Valtterrium Empire was already embroiled in conflict with the Kingdom of Celestoria to the west, and the cities and towns within raiding distance of the western border were on edge. Adele mentioned this almost as an afterthought, but her hand trembled slightly as she stirred the pot, betraying deeper concerns than her casual tone suggested. The tension was palpable, and it was impossible to know when or where the conflict might erupt. As I looked out the window, on to the bustling streets of Azure Reach, the city where I currently resided, I couldn't help but feel a sense of both awe and fear. The last rays of the setting suns cast long shadows across the courtyard, painting the city beyond in hues of gold and amber. Lamps were being lit throughout the manor and in the streets beyond, creating a constellation of earthbound stars against the gathering dusk. This was a world of beauty, wonder, mystery and a rich history, and there was so much here to potentially discover and explore.