Building a Modern Nation in a Fantasy World

In the grand hall, Arthur sat quietly upon his throne, his gaze steady as he stared toward the towering double doors. The polished marble floors reflected the soft light from enchanted crystal sconces lining the walls. The air was heavy with a sense of anticipation—a tension that even the most veteran knights stationed along the hall could feel.

Arthur rested one hand lightly against the lion-carved armrest, his expression unreadable. His mind, however, was far from still.

The meeting today would mark another turning point—one that required not just preparation, but caution.

Turning slightly, Arthur looked toward Klein, who stood dutifully by his side.

"Have you prepared everything? Including the contingency plans?" Arthur asked, his voice calm but edged with a quiet authority.

Klein gave a small nod, his eyes steady. "Yes, Your Majesty. Every detail has been arranged. Security is doubled. The guard rotations are set. We have contingency plans in place if things… take an unexpected turn."

Arthur gave a faint nod of approval. "Good."

This was no ordinary meeting. Today was the result of careful maneuvering, of invisible games played behind closed doors. And Arthur knew full well that while diplomacy could resolve much, it could just as easily spark new flames.

His mind briefly drifted back to five days ago—standing at the firing range, observing the early drills of the newly formed Firearms Corps. He had watched as knights and mages tested the flintlocks, muskets, and cannons. The air had been filled with smoke and thunderous booms as the cannons tore through their targets.

It was during that very inspection when Ken had approached him urgently.

That was when the new report arrived:

Lucien, the envoy from Chronos, had returned—accompanied by none other than Prince Edric Rivas, the second son of King Brandon Rivas himself.

The news had carried weight far beyond routine diplomacy. Chronos wasn't merely sending a message this time—they were sending bloodline.

Arthur remembered Ken's precise words: "They are roughly five days from Eldoria. Their envoy travels heavily guarded, but their pace remains steady."

And so, five days had passed.

Now, Arthur waited.

The faint echo of marching footsteps soon reached his ears—signal that the awaited guests were approaching the castle's inner hall.

Klein glanced at Arthur briefly, but Arthur didn't speak. His face remained composed, hiding the swirl of calculations running beneath the surface.

They've brought the king's son. Which means they're here to negotiate—but also to observe.

Are they going to test and measure me?

The grand doors fully opened with a deep groan, and the royal herald stepped forward, his voice carrying crisply through the great hall.

"Announcing the arrival of Lucien Vale, senior envoy of Chronos, accompanied by His Highness, Prince Edric Rivas—second son of His Majesty King Brandon Rivas of the Kingdom of Chronos."

The words echoed like rolling thunder through the silent hall. The knights lining the chamber stiffened, while the handful of scribes and attendants held their breath.

Arthur's gaze sharpened.

Lucien walked in first, his usual diplomatic poise firmly in place. He wore his familiar black and crimson ceremonial robes of Chronos—subtle but deliberate in their richness. His face, calm and composed, showed no hint of the tension that likely brewed beneath.

But it was the young man walking beside him who captured the room.

Prince Edric Rivas.

Edric carried himself with practiced grace, but it was not the stiff, haughty arrogance often seen among spoiled royal heirs. Instead, there was a quiet confidence in his steps—steady, measured, every motion calculated but smooth. He was perhaps in his early twenties, slightly younger than Arthur himself, yet already radiating the air of a man carefully trained for political games.

His figure was lean but well-built—not overly muscular like a warrior, yet far from frail. He possessed the kind of frame suited for both courtly functions and battle, though it was clear from his bearing that his strengths leaned toward leadership rather than raw combat.

His sharp features—defined jawline, narrow nose, and piercing light-blue eyes—gave him a certain cold handsomeness, one enhanced by his short-cropped silver-blond hair, a distinct trait of the Rivas royal bloodline. His ceremonial coat, trimmed with deep navy and silver embroidery, carried the royal crest of Chronos.

There was a quiet weight in his gaze as he approached, his eyes studying Arthur openly, without the usual layer of veiled disdain that many nobles often carried when dealing with foreign kings. Instead, Edric's gaze was analytical, curious—even slightly amused, as though eager to measure the king who had risen so suddenly in Keldoria.

This one isn't a fool, Arthur thought instantly. He came here with a purpose.

Lucien and Edric stopped several paces before the throne, bowing in unison.

"Your Majesty Arthur Tesla," Lucien greeted with flawless diplomacy, his voice smooth and respectful, carefully measured like every word had been rehearsed in advance. "It is an honor to stand before you once again."

Prince Edric followed a moment later with a nod of his own. His voice, while calm, carried a distinct tone of quiet authority, perfectly controlled. "And I extend my personal greetings on behalf of my father, King Brandon Rivas of Chronos. We appreciate your graciousness in receiving us, and I am grateful for the opportunity to meet with Your Majesty in person."

The great hall remained silent except for the echo of their voices. The towering stone pillars and intricate banners of Keldoria's crest framed the scene with a sense of grandeur, amplifying the quiet tension that already simmered beneath the surface.

Arthur allowed a small, carefully measured smile to curl across his lips—a smile that concealed far more than it revealed.

"The honor is mine, Prince Edric. I welcome you both to Eldoria."

He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting on the carved lion head of his throne, the faintest glimmer of sharpness flashing in his gaze as his thoughts turned inward.

Now then… let's see what you've really come for.

Arthur's voice carried smoothly across the grand chamber, steady and deliberate, every word chosen with precision. "I trust your journey from Chronos was uneventful?"

Lucien responded first, bowing his head in a respectful motion. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The roads between our nations remain safe and well-maintained, as expected under your administration. The journey was swift and orderly."

Arthur offered a light nod in return. But but kept his gaze fixed on Edric, who had yet to fully reveal his hand.