Lewd King's Bucket List-Chapter 83: Nostalgia Is the Most Beautiful Form of Pain
The bloodstains remained.
As Porter was carried away, Ixion looked over at the spectators who held looks of absolute horror. To witness a dreamer crushed so brutally and handily — it was discouraging.
At the same time, Porter’s defiance in general, even if it did end that way, had stoked the flame in the people’s hearts.
Not that his actions of berating the king to his face were utterly foolish, but it was his bravery in and of itself that was the message to the people.
A message calling out the cowards who dared let King Ixion’s tyranny go on for another minute.
’How heroic...’
Porter was the type who didn’t last long in the world, but his impact would reverberate for generations.
’If we had generations left...’
Well, technically Kaldora did.
Even if all nations collapsed, the defiant strong were bound to remain, fighting to the bitter end for however long their strength allowed.
Porter’s act meant little in the grand scheme of things, especially given Ixion showcasing [Noble].
However, the people who resisted Ixion’s Trait did not go unnoticed.
Speaking of those types of people...
Ixion wore a sour look on his face as he spoke to the man standing before him.
"I didn’t expect to see you here."
Lor, a general who’d fought beside Ixion for a long time, placed his hand on his chest.
"My friend... it’s been a long time."
Ixion smirked then asked:
"How’s your daughter, Lor?"
The man’s eyes twitched, Ixion having asked a question he knew the answer to.
"Claire is dead."
"Ah, a pity! Why didn’t you invite me to her funeral?!"
The barrier was reinstated, enveloping the two.
The general grit his teeth.
"I did..."
Ixion flashed a facetious smile.
"Ah, the letter must have gotten lost! I get a lot of those nowadays."
Ixion thought back.
’I couldn’t dare go...’
Lor shuffled, adjusting his stance.
"I asked you in person."
He thought back to the final weeks before he pulled back his forces. The time when the Scourge made a mockery of their defensive line. When they pushed all the way back to where some families were meeting their sons and fathers who’d been sent off to war.
’I didn’t dare witness another result of my failure.’
Ixion took up his sword.
"Shame. I must have forgotten."
Lor, decked out in thick plated armor, sighed.
"It seems I’ve been too caught up in the past. Much like the rest of us..."
Lor shook his head.
"Come, Your Majesty. Let us spar one last time."
"Oh? Treating this as a spar and not a duel?" Ixion laughed. "And, one last time? My friend?! Are we never to spar again?"
Ixion knew damn well what that second line meant.
Lor knew that Ixion understood as well. He knew Ixion could read between the lines quite well. He also knew Ixion’s memory was much too good to forget his invitation.
Lor’s response to Ixion’s questions was the tip of his blade rising.
’Ah... so next time we fight, it won’t be a spar, will it?’
A pity.
Ixion quite liked sparring with Lor.
Lor was a true noble, a true warrior, and a true friend. He was someone who deserved to be born in better circumstances.
With a touch of solemnity in his tone, Ixion said:
"Very well, friend."
’Let our last spar be one to remember.’
And may their last fight be one to forget.
***
Ixion reveled in his fight with Lor, reminiscing on old times. He didn’t necessarily drag it out, but he didn’t let it go on too long. Nor did Ixion dare touch Lor’s pristine soul.
Some souls shouldn’t be touched by his filthy hands.
Lor, the general who’d taught him much about living — unlike all the other older warriors who’d taught Ixion how to survive.
The old general had been one of his closest friends and mentors before Ixion fell from grace.
Ixion stood tall as he stretched out his hand to Lor, an odd look of longing tugging at his eyes.
"That was a good match, old friend."
Despite whatever Lor may think of Ixion now, he reached out and took the king’s hand.
"Yes it was. Goodbye, my king."
Lor stood up, then walked off, not daring to glance back.
’Goodbye...’
He’d probably be berated by those who weren’t close to him, thinking him to be an Ixion sympathizer. But those who knew Lor well were aware of the solemn undertone behind that particular duel.
’Ah, I want to cry.’
Ixion wanted to stop the charade.
To take to the front lines again and stand against the Scourge in vain until his death.
’But alas...’
He could not.
Ixion turned and stood in the center of the dueling space and awaited his next challengers. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
None of whom nearly compared to Lor’s valor or standing; however, the level of his challengers did steadily increase on average.
More and more people Ixion had once fought beside had taken the stage before him, not all of them holding soft-hearted nostalgia like Lor.
Some cursed under their breaths or refused to acknowledge their past with noble Ixion.
Still, no matter what they thought of him, they’d all lost handily, not managing to put a single scratch on Ixion.
Not to mention...
’This is starting to get monotonous.’
All of the middle of the pack of 113 challengers were stick-in-the-mud knights or fighters who cared not for discourse and sentimentality!
How was Ixion supposed to make jokes if they didn’t talk to him?!
’A travesty! A conundrum!’
It was only when Ixion watched the sixty-seventh challenger be carried off and the sixty-eighth walk forth that his smile widened.
Ixion pretended to be surprised, then shouted:
"My, my! I thought you were all dead? For one of you to be alive, and show up here no less?"
Many unaware nobles looked confused.
Ixion continued:
"Reina Artoris! Ah, I remember the days fighting alongside your father. What a valiant man! He didn’t deserve to die."
Reina’s face fell into a myriad of emotions. To the public’s knowledge, the Artoris line was officially ’missing,’ not ’dead.’ It was clear the line of connection she drew.
The crowd watching stirred upon hearing the Artoris name.
Reina stepped toward Ixion, indignation plastered on her face.
"I agree. My father was a righteous warrior. One who, if he fell, deserved only to fall in battle."
