Romulus was a giant. The man known as the Apex of the Abyss was around two and a half metres tall. He towered over practically everyone, looking down with hard, green eyes. They did not command respect, his sheer presence was enough for respect to simply be given.
He looked like a man in the middle of his forties with sun-browned skin. Hard wrinkles gave his face, with the strong jaw, a paternal sternness. His short, brown hair showed the first signs of greying. Bare arms extended from the white toga, thick muscles moving under taut skin. His clothes were plain in design but ornate in make, a red sash wrapped around him one of two unnecessary decorations he afforded himself. The second was a crown of olive branches, meticulously shaped.
John looked up from the window to meet Romulus’ gaze. It lingered only for a moment, but that moment made his lungs feel like they were iron cast. The Apex’s eyes moved on and John took in a desperate breath. ‘He tried to kill Gaia twice? How did he even live past the first time?’ John gulped. ‘That’s a level I’m supposedly able to reach?’
His attention moved to two figures closely following Romulus down the path towards the central plateau. Both were supreme beauties, arguably above John’s haremettes – although he would have contended such claims.
Behind Romulus’ right was a platinum blonde woman. Her hair cascaded down her back, wavy and wild. Her skin was of a light brown tone. Her eyes were golden, radiant even, sharing their colour with the plate armour that covered her with all the hardness and heat of a merciless summer sun. The plate was forged for her body, practically appearing to be hammered on to her curves. She had large breasts and a round ass – nothing was left to the imagination. Behind her back hovered a disk of golden fire, confined by a black corona, like a reverse eclipse.
The second woman, following behind Romulus’ left, was considerably shorter. She was as pale as freshly fallen snow and her hair was the silvery white of undiluted moonlight. The silky, straight strands practically flowed down her back. A dress covered her body, midnight blue and decorated with sparkling stars.
Her curves, much like her size, were much more modest, almost petite. Only a soft rise showed her breasts and her waist was pleasingly narrow. Her hips, however, were pleasingly wide. All of it combined with her measured steps to paint a picture of pure grace.
John closed the last window. “Anything interesting?” Rave asked quietly. Meanwhile, Romulus climbed the three steps of the platform with one step.
“A lot, although I am unsure how much they wanted me to know and how much of the rest is true, they clearly knew I was watching them,” John answered. “I will walk you through on the way home… also you will have to explain to me what a Kuudere is.”
“Caaaaan do,” Rave giggled. She already had previously explained to him, in detail, what a Tsundere was. Anime was weird.
Romulus sat down on the throne. To John, the chair had looked massive but under the massive form of the European ruler, it seemed barely adequate. Sol and Luna stepped onto the first of the three stairs leading up to the highest plateau, where they then turned to the audience. The last bit of chatter died down. Anticipating quiet was the only thing that remained.
Then, the Apex spoke.
“My subjects, my neighbours, citizens of the Old and the New World that have gathered here, friends, foes, those in between, those that once were one and have become either, all of you that are present or that witness from the comfort of your homes – I welcome you.” Romulus' voice rolled through the cathedral with casual confidence, deep and rumbling. “Today will be a historic day, one way or another. Today, the recent years of confusion regarding the inheritance of the Kingdom of Germany, Rex in Germaniae, will either be solved or moved to the next stage.”
‘I thought this was about an Empire?’ John furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Did he screw that up? No… probably some weird feudal situation. I’ll have to ask Lydia later.’
“To hold elections while the previous king is still alive is unusual, but Frederick insisted. This special wish I obliged, but the remaining traditions remain in place. Two times you have voted, two times no victor emerged. I thereby invoke the rule of strength. Shall no winner come from this election, the winner shall be decided via civilized application of force. Sol, Luna, prepare the count.”
Sol to his right and Luna to his left side each extended a hand away from the throne. From the sun goddess’ hand flung golden light, mirrored by the moon goddess in silver. Two circles took shape, hanging high enough that all in the cathedral could see them.
“Elector of Austria, Arch-Duke of Vienna, Prince-Regent of Greater-Hungary, Duke of Ulm, Arch-Duke of Gravity, Maximillian Franz the Fourth von Habsburg, do you, as Candidatum Primus, wish to stand by your claim?” Romulus asked. Maximillian turned from the crowd and bowed to the Apex.
“I do, Emperor of Kings,” he said with a smile.
Only nodding once, the ruler of the Mediterranean then turned to Lydia. “Granddaughter of the Elector of Brandenburg and of the current king, Princess-Regent of Brandenburg, Duchess of the city of Lübeck, Marquise of Pomerania and Silesia, Princess of Steel, Lydia Augusta the Fourth von Hohenzollern, do you, as Candidatum Secundus, wish to fight the claim of the Candidatum Primus, despite his official endorsement and legitimacy?”
That was the first time John had heard about this. He had just assumed Candidatum Secundus was a fancy title without further implications. ‘So, she wasn’t just a candidate, but the one to throw a stick into the machinations of succession, huh? Explains the whole ‘divisive figure’ part I keep hearing about.’
Lydia turned only until her shoulder pointed at Romulus. “I do. The self-proclaimed King of Vienna has not the best interest of Rex Germaniae in mind. He is loyal to the country, not its people and, what’s worse, he is loyal to you before his own subjects, Emperor of Rome. Somebody who sees himself as the first-servant of you and not as the first servant of the state, I will not allow to sit on the throne. I challenge his claim; may the electorate decide what is wise.”
Without a respectful nod she turned back to the gathered people who started whispering. “Geez, she has bigger balls than I thought, talking to Romulus' face like that,” Rave admitted.
“Yes… but I don’t know if that was wise, if she likes it or not, if she wins he is still the one that rules over all of this,” John whispered back, “I wonder if she follows a plan or this was just something she wanted to say for a long time.”
Romulus himself seemed unfazed by this. “Your challenge is heard. The votes will indeed decide.” Regally, he placed his hands on the armrests of the throne. “As per tradition, the current monarch may not meddle in the election. Therefore, Frederick’s vote will not be counted for the election. However, he may give an endorsement, if he so wishes…?”
“I do not wish to endorse either candidate.” Frederick sat in his chair, a sack of skin, bones, and clinging will. “My time has passed, let the new generation take this empire to new heights.”
“In that case, following the order of tradition, written down by my friend and foe Barbarossa 800 years ago, I shall proclaim the first of my two votes. I refrain from using my first vote,” Romulus announced. This was no surprise, from what Lydia had told John, Romulus always stayed neutral, the remaining electors then found a way to make it a tie, just so they could have their games. John had yet to entirely comprehend why, simple entertainment was not good enough a reason, or was it? Honestly, John had only scratched the surface of Abyssal culture, so maybe he was entirely wrong.
“Elector of Vienna, proclaim your vote,” Romulus continued with the election. Maximillian’s grin grew back into its cocky form.
“Whoever could I vote for? I wonder, I wonder,” he joked. “Between me and the candidate that just accused me of being loyal to the wrong cause… mhm, I think I will go with myself.”
Some people snickered, but generally the joke went by without a care. A single line appeared in the golden circle that Sol had created. The golden light became a little more elaborate, until forming the Roman numeral 1.
“Elector of the Low-Counties, represented in this age by the Netherland Trading Company, step forth and declare your vote,” the ritual continued. A foxy blonde woman in a business suit stood up and made her way up to the plateau. Once she arrived in front of Romulus she took a knee for a few moments, before getting up and declaring her decision to the audience. “My vote shall be with Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern. The Netherlands favour federalization, which will bring new wealth to the whole of Rex Germaniae.” The woman marched to one of the empty seats by the table. Behind her, Luna created the first line in the silver circle.
“Elector of the southern Alpine regions, represented in this age by the Swiss Confederation, step forth and declare your vote.” The same ritual ensued. An old man, relying heavily on his walking stick, made his way up. Despite his obvious problems he wasn’t allowed to skip the kneeling. He needed longer to get up than he had been kneeling in the first place.
“The Swiss Confederation agrees with the N.T.C. Nothing is more important to us than our autonomy and the Austrian candidate threatens this status. Our freedom and federal status cannot be threatened. As the country between the Illuminati, Rex Germaniae and the Sons of Rome, our neutrality must be our own to decide. The vote goes to Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern.” Once back in his chair, the old man let out a long sigh of relief.
Two votes for Lydia.
“Elector of the duchy of Bavaria and the city of Munich, represented in this age, as in every other age before, by the duchy of Bavaria, step forth and declare your vote.” John was mildly disappointed when the man answering to that call was not a Lederhosen wearing drunk, but instead a middle-aged man who had a similar pompous get-up to Maximillian.
“Autonomy is important, but so is that everyone pulls their weight in this union of states,” he spoke to the assembly following the show of loyalty to the emperor. “And Princess Augusta promises a world in which we drift further apart. She would weaken our bonds at a time when our division already presents opportunities to our enemies. To the east the Blood rises again, to the west the Illuminati are endlessly scratching away at our understanding of magic, the Great Sultanate is as decadent as it remains powerful and no one knows the goals of the new Heavenly Jade Empress. This is no time to concentrate on prosperity, but on safety. My vote is with King Maximillian.” A golden line and the two candidates were tied again.
“Elector of the city of Prague and the Czech people, represented in this age by the Czech League, step forth and declare your vote.” The man who now got up to the plateau was only wearing a brown monk’s robe. He stepped in front of Romulus, but he didn’t kneel. Instead he just made a bowing nod with his shaven head before turning around.
“We vote for Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern. Although I personally don’t disagree with the threat from the east, and I hold little love for the Illuminati or their allies in Prometheus, the Czech could never vote for an Austrian candidate. We, the Czech, know their oppressive ways and the wheel of time has not spun far enough for us to forgive, especially while our Slovak brothers remain under their thumb. At least the Silesians are to remain autonomous under the Princess’ rule. In short, FUCK THE AUSTRIANS!” With that sudden, and very angry, outcry, the monk sat down. 3 for 2 in favour of Lydia and only two more votes, not counting Romulus’ refusal to vote.
“Elector of Saxony, represented in this age by the duchy of greater Saxony, step forth and declare your vote.” Another old man came up. This one looked like the wise king archetype, although he was still a duke by title. Unlike the speaker of the Swiss, this one remained strong on his feet despite his age.
When he turned towards the audience he hesitated for a moment. “It comes down to me to declare the vote between a tournament or a victor, it seems. A great honour, but also a great burden. Both sides ring true. Protection however, especially from the communists that aim to eradicate our way of life, is most important to me however and the people of Saxony would be happy to have the states of Germany become more closely tied, instead of further divided into autonomous regions.”
Maximillian grinned. John raised an eyebrow. ‘I hear a but coming…?’ John thought and remembered what Lydia had said earlier.
The duke continued, “But it is especially because I want protection and stability that I cannot allow for us to enter another tournament just because of the greed of the electorate. The tournament is nothing more than a boom for our economies on the back of the declining might of our Italian allies. An abhorrent tradition I would have lived with in easier times, but I cannot accept in turbulent ones like these. The lands of Rex Germaniae must be united. Let the lesser candidate rule and prepare for the future, our outer struggles are more important than the inner ones. I stay my vote.”
Faces had shifted into disbelief as the elector had held his speech and now a commotion broke out over the unchanging status quo. Hundreds of people spoke in a sudden burst as the collective surprise washed over them. Maximillian looked like he had been struck by lightning, bleak and slightly shaky, he and John looked over to Lydia. Meanwhile, the duke took his seat and closed his eyes as he waited for everything to blow over.
The princess of steel had her arms crossed and allowed herself the faintest of smiles while she kept her eyes focused ahead. 3 to 2. She had never needed another vote, only to find somebody on the other side that found this tradition as unnecessary as she did. “Into the mana factory I go, I guess,” John sighed.
“Seems like we will have to move here,” Rave agreed.
“Yeah, and if I calculated the average mana battery price correctly it will take me about 17 years to pay back Lydia,” John told her.
Rave waved it off. “Ah, but ya see, that is only if ya stop grinding and getting your Wisdom up even higher, we can surely press that down to like one year, two tops.”
“That seems like a pretty high goal,” John carefully suggested.
“Always shoot for the moon,” Rave winked as she raised her voice against the ongoing chatter, “at the very least you w-“
“The vote has not concluded!” the voice of Romulus broke the commotion. It echoed throughout the cathedral like a cataclysmic earthquake. Hundreds of people were pressed into their seats by a sudden force descending on them. John and Rave barely stood straight, ears ringing, shaken to their cores from the magic the sentence was drenched in.
The Apex folded his hands in front of his stomach. Eyes downcast, he contemplated for a number of seconds. Then, when all had grown quiet, he nodded to himself and raised his gaze once again.
“One last vote remains. I, Romulus, Emperor of the Roman Empire, God-Emperor of the Sons of Rome, vote for Maximillian Franz von Habsburg as new King of the Germans,” he declared.
The stunned silence was more deafening than the commotion before. Every elector looked with disbelief at the emperor. The Saxon duke angrily slammed his fist into the table, which broke under the impact. For a moment John thought he would complain or storm off, but the duke kept sitting with a reddened face. Romulus himself stared down Lydia, who looked back with a clenched jaw and her eyes as grey as slag.
“The election has ended in a tie; the tournament will be held,” Romulus made his final statement.
Romulus was a giant. The man known as the Apex of the Abyss was around two and a half metres tall. He towered over practically everyone, looking down with hard, green eyes. They did not command respect, his sheer presence was enough for respect to simply be given.
He looked like a man in the middle of his forties with sun-browned skin. Hard wrinkles gave his face, with the strong jaw, a paternal sternness. His short, brown hair showed the first signs of greying. Bare arms extended from the white toga, thick muscles moving under taut skin. His clothes were plain in design but ornate in make, a red sash wrapped around him one of two unnecessary decorations he afforded himself. The second was a crown of olive branches, meticulously shaped.
John looked up from the window to meet Romulus’ gaze. It lingered only for a moment, but that moment made his lungs feel like they were iron cast. The Apex’s eyes moved on and John took in a desperate breath. ‘He tried to kill Gaia twice? How did he even live past the first time?’ John gulped. ‘That’s a level I’m supposedly able to reach?’
His attention moved to two figures closely following Romulus down the path towards the central plateau. Both were supreme beauties, arguably above John’s haremettes – although he would have contended such claims.
Behind Romulus’ right was a platinum blonde woman. Her hair cascaded down her back, wavy and wild. Her skin was of a light brown tone. Her eyes were golden, radiant even, sharing their colour with the plate armour that covered her with all the hardness and heat of a merciless summer sun. The plate was forged for her body, practically appearing to be hammered on to her curves. She had large breasts and a round ass – nothing was left to the imagination. Behind her back hovered a disk of golden fire, confined by a black corona, like a reverse eclipse.
The second woman, following behind Romulus’ left, was considerably shorter. She was as pale as freshly fallen snow and her hair was the silvery white of undiluted moonlight. The silky, straight strands practically flowed down her back. A dress covered her body, midnight blue and decorated with sparkling stars.
Her curves, much like her size, were much more modest, almost petite. Only a soft rise showed her breasts and her waist was pleasingly narrow. Her hips, however, were pleasingly wide. All of it combined with her measured steps to paint a picture of pure grace.
John closed the last window. “Anything interesting?” Rave asked quietly. Meanwhile, Romulus climbed the three steps of the platform with one step.
“A lot, although I am unsure how much they wanted me to know and how much of the rest is true, they clearly knew I was watching them,” John answered. “I will walk you through on the way home… also you will have to explain to me what a Kuudere is.”
“Caaaaan do,” Rave giggled. She already had previously explained to him, in detail, what a Tsundere was. Anime was weird.
Romulus sat down on the throne. To John, the chair had looked massive but under the massive form of the European ruler, it seemed barely adequate. Sol and Luna stepped onto the first of the three stairs leading up to the highest plateau, where they then turned to the audience. The last bit of chatter died down. Anticipating quiet was the only thing that remained.
Then, the Apex spoke.
“My subjects, my neighbours, citizens of the Old and the New World that have gathered here, friends, foes, those in between, those that once were one and have become either, all of you that are present or that witness from the comfort of your homes – I welcome you.” Romulus' voice rolled through the cathedral with casual confidence, deep and rumbling. “Today will be a historic day, one way or another. Today, the recent years of confusion regarding the inheritance of the Kingdom of Germany, Rex in Germaniae, will either be solved or moved to the next stage.”
‘I thought this was about an Empire?’ John furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Did he screw that up? No… probably some weird feudal situation. I’ll have to ask Lydia later.’
“To hold elections while the previous king is still alive is unusual, but Frederick insisted. This special wish I obliged, but the remaining traditions remain in place. Two times you have voted, two times no victor emerged. I thereby invoke the rule of strength. Shall no winner come from this election, the winner shall be decided via civilized application of force. Sol, Luna, prepare the count.”
Sol to his right and Luna to his left side each extended a hand away from the throne. From the sun goddess’ hand flung golden light, mirrored by the moon goddess in silver. Two circles took shape, hanging high enough that all in the cathedral could see them.
“Elector of Austria, Arch-Duke of Vienna, Prince-Regent of Greater-Hungary, Duke of Ulm, Arch-Duke of Gravity, Maximillian Franz the Fourth von Habsburg, do you, as Candidatum Primus, wish to stand by your claim?” Romulus asked. Maximillian turned from the crowd and bowed to the Apex.
“I do, Emperor of Kings,” he said with a smile.
Only nodding once, the ruler of the Mediterranean then turned to Lydia. “Granddaughter of the Elector of Brandenburg and of the current king, Princess-Regent of Brandenburg, Duchess of the city of Lübeck, Marquise of Pomerania and Silesia, Princess of Steel, Lydia Augusta the Fourth von Hohenzollern, do you, as Candidatum Secundus, wish to fight the claim of the Candidatum Primus, despite his official endorsement and legitimacy?”
That was the first time John had heard about this. He had just assumed Candidatum Secundus was a fancy title without further implications. ‘So, she wasn’t just a candidate, but the one to throw a stick into the machinations of succession, huh? Explains the whole ‘divisive figure’ part I keep hearing about.’
Lydia turned only until her shoulder pointed at Romulus. “I do. The self-proclaimed King of Vienna has not the best interest of Rex Germaniae in mind. He is loyal to the country, not its people and, what’s worse, he is loyal to you before his own subjects, Emperor of Rome. Somebody who sees himself as the first-servant of you and not as the first servant of the state, I will not allow to sit on the throne. I challenge his claim; may the electorate decide what is wise.”
Without a respectful nod she turned back to the gathered people who started whispering. “Geez, she has bigger balls than I thought, talking to Romulus' face like that,” Rave admitted.
“Yes… but I don’t know if that was wise, if she likes it or not, if she wins he is still the one that rules over all of this,” John whispered back, “I wonder if she follows a plan or this was just something she wanted to say for a long time.”
Romulus himself seemed unfazed by this. “Your challenge is heard. The votes will indeed decide.” Regally, he placed his hands on the armrests of the throne. “As per tradition, the current monarch may not meddle in the election. Therefore, Frederick’s vote will not be counted for the election. However, he may give an endorsement, if he so wishes…?”
“I do not wish to endorse either candidate.” Frederick sat in his chair, a sack of skin, bones, and clinging will. “My time has passed, let the new generation take this empire to new heights.”
“In that case, following the order of tradition, written down by my friend and foe Barbarossa 800 years ago, I shall proclaim the first of my two votes. I refrain from using my first vote,” Romulus announced. This was no surprise, from what Lydia had told John, Romulus always stayed neutral, the remaining electors then found a way to make it a tie, just so they could have their games. John had yet to entirely comprehend why, simple entertainment was not good enough a reason, or was it? Honestly, John had only scratched the surface of Abyssal culture, so maybe he was entirely wrong.
“Elector of Vienna, proclaim your vote,” Romulus continued with the election. Maximillian’s grin grew back into its cocky form.
“Whoever could I vote for? I wonder, I wonder,” he joked. “Between me and the candidate that just accused me of being loyal to the wrong cause… mhm, I think I will go with myself.”
Some people snickered, but generally the joke went by without a care. A single line appeared in the golden circle that Sol had created. The golden light became a little more elaborate, until forming the Roman numeral 1.
“Elector of the Low-Counties, represented in this age by the Netherland Trading Company, step forth and declare your vote,” the ritual continued. A foxy blonde woman in a business suit stood up and made her way up to the plateau. Once she arrived in front of Romulus she took a knee for a few moments, before getting up and declaring her decision to the audience. “My vote shall be with Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern. The Netherlands favour federalization, which will bring new wealth to the whole of Rex Germaniae.” The woman marched to one of the empty seats by the table. Behind her, Luna created the first line in the silver circle.
“Elector of the southern Alpine regions, represented in this age by the Swiss Confederation, step forth and declare your vote.” The same ritual ensued. An old man, relying heavily on his walking stick, made his way up. Despite his obvious problems he wasn’t allowed to skip the kneeling. He needed longer to get up than he had been kneeling in the first place.
“The Swiss Confederation agrees with the N.T.C. Nothing is more important to us than our autonomy and the Austrian candidate threatens this status. Our freedom and federal status cannot be threatened. As the country between the Illuminati, Rex Germaniae and the Sons of Rome, our neutrality must be our own to decide. The vote goes to Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern.” Once back in his chair, the old man let out a long sigh of relief.
Two votes for Lydia.
“Elector of the duchy of Bavaria and the city of Munich, represented in this age, as in every other age before, by the duchy of Bavaria, step forth and declare your vote.” John was mildly disappointed when the man answering to that call was not a Lederhosen wearing drunk, but instead a middle-aged man who had a similar pompous get-up to Maximillian.
“Autonomy is important, but so is that everyone pulls their weight in this union of states,” he spoke to the assembly following the show of loyalty to the emperor. “And Princess Augusta promises a world in which we drift further apart. She would weaken our bonds at a time when our division already presents opportunities to our enemies. To the east the Blood rises again, to the west the Illuminati are endlessly scratching away at our understanding of magic, the Great Sultanate is as decadent as it remains powerful and no one knows the goals of the new Heavenly Jade Empress. This is no time to concentrate on prosperity, but on safety. My vote is with King Maximillian.” A golden line and the two candidates were tied again.
“Elector of the city of Prague and the Czech people, represented in this age by the Czech League, step forth and declare your vote.” The man who now got up to the plateau was only wearing a brown monk’s robe. He stepped in front of Romulus, but he didn’t kneel. Instead he just made a bowing nod with his shaven head before turning around.
“We vote for Lydia Augusta of house Hohenzollern. Although I personally don’t disagree with the threat from the east, and I hold little love for the Illuminati or their allies in Prometheus, the Czech could never vote for an Austrian candidate. We, the Czech, know their oppressive ways and the wheel of time has not spun far enough for us to forgive, especially while our Slovak brothers remain under their thumb. At least the Silesians are to remain autonomous under the Princess’ rule. In short, FUCK THE AUSTRIANS!” With that sudden, and very angry, outcry, the monk sat down. 3 for 2 in favour of Lydia and only two more votes, not counting Romulus’ refusal to vote.
“Elector of Saxony, represented in this age by the duchy of greater Saxony, step forth and declare your vote.” Another old man came up. This one looked like the wise king archetype, although he was still a duke by title. Unlike the speaker of the Swiss, this one remained strong on his feet despite his age.
When he turned towards the audience he hesitated for a moment. “It comes down to me to declare the vote between a tournament or a victor, it seems. A great honour, but also a great burden. Both sides ring true. Protection however, especially from the communists that aim to eradicate our way of life, is most important to me however and the people of Saxony would be happy to have the states of Germany become more closely tied, instead of further divided into autonomous regions.”
Maximillian grinned. John raised an eyebrow. ‘I hear a but coming…?’ John thought and remembered what Lydia had said earlier.
The duke continued, “But it is especially because I want protection and stability that I cannot allow for us to enter another tournament just because of the greed of the electorate. The tournament is nothing more than a boom for our economies on the back of the declining might of our Italian allies. An abhorrent tradition I would have lived with in easier times, but I cannot accept in turbulent ones like these. The lands of Rex Germaniae must be united. Let the lesser candidate rule and prepare for the future, our outer struggles are more important than the inner ones. I stay my vote.”
Faces had shifted into disbelief as the elector had held his speech and now a commotion broke out over the unchanging status quo. Hundreds of people spoke in a sudden burst as the collective surprise washed over them. Maximillian looked like he had been struck by lightning, bleak and slightly shaky, he and John looked over to Lydia. Meanwhile, the duke took his seat and closed his eyes as he waited for everything to blow over.
The princess of steel had her arms crossed and allowed herself the faintest of smiles while she kept her eyes focused ahead. 3 to 2. She had never needed another vote, only to find somebody on the other side that found this tradition as unnecessary as she did. “Into the mana factory I go, I guess,” John sighed.
“Seems like we will have to move here,” Rave agreed.
“Yeah, and if I calculated the average mana battery price correctly it will take me about 17 years to pay back Lydia,” John told her.
Rave waved it off. “Ah, but ya see, that is only if ya stop grinding and getting your Wisdom up even higher, we can surely press that down to like one year, two tops.”
“That seems like a pretty high goal,” John carefully suggested.
“Always shoot for the moon,” Rave winked as she raised her voice against the ongoing chatter, “at the very least you w-“
“The vote has not concluded!” the voice of Romulus broke the commotion. It echoed throughout the cathedral like a cataclysmic earthquake. Hundreds of people were pressed into their seats by a sudden force descending on them. John and Rave barely stood straight, ears ringing, shaken to their cores from the magic the sentence was drenched in.
The Apex folded his hands in front of his stomach. Eyes downcast, he contemplated for a number of seconds. Then, when all had grown quiet, he nodded to himself and raised his gaze once again.
“One last vote remains. I, Romulus, Emperor of the Roman Empire, God-Emperor of the Sons of Rome, vote for Maximillian Franz von Habsburg as new King of the Germans,” he declared.
The stunned silence was more deafening than the commotion before. Every elector looked with disbelief at the emperor. The Saxon duke angrily slammed his fist into the table, which broke under the impact. For a moment John thought he would complain or storm off, but the duke kept sitting with a reddened face. Romulus himself stared down Lydia, who looked back with a clenched jaw and her eyes as grey as slag.
“The election has ended in a tie; the tournament will be held,” Romulus made his final statement.
