Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 126: Subject Kingdom (part 2)

A murmur ripples through the court. Edric's eyes widen. "You ask us to release them?"

"Not ask, King Edric. Demand." Sissari's voice remains calm but carries an unmistakable edge. "Any individual found to be in possession of monster slaves henceforth will face execution."

The room falls into a stunned silence. Edric's mind races, contemplating the societal upheaval this decree will unleash. "This will not be easy. Our economy—our very way of life—relies on—"

"Change is seldom easy," Sissari interjects. "But it is necessary. The era of subjugation ends now."

Edric leans back, the weight of the throne suddenly more burdensome than ever. "Very well. We will comply."

Sissari inclines her head. "Your cooperation ensures a harmonious future between our kingdoms."

The envoy turns gracefully, the golden-armored guards following in lockstep. As they depart, the heavy doors closing behind them, Edric remains seated, the enormity of the moment settling over him like a shroud.

After the nobles have departed, King Edric leans back in his throne, exhaling a long sigh. He turns to his advisor, Ekarick, standing nearby.​

"The terms are more lenient than I anticipated," Edric admits, rubbing his temples. "I expected demands for human slaves and exorbitant monthly tributes."

Ekarick nods, his expression mirroring the king's surprise. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Their requests are more humane than those of the other two kingdoms."

Edric sighs again, his gaze distant. "You're right. It's unexpected."

Ekarick hesitates before speaking. "Your Majesty, how shall we proceed with the emancipation of all slaves? It's not only the nobles who own them; many common citizens do as well."

Edric straightens, resolve hardening his features. "Issue a decree announcing our new status as a subject kingdom of Erevaris. Make it clear that all slaves must be freed immediately. Anyone who refuses will face execution."

Ekarick inclines his head. "And the nobles, sire? As you're aware, many among them..."

Edric's eyes narrow. "Arrest those who resist. Hand them over to Erevaris or execute them for everyone to see. It's time to remove the weeds for the future of this kingdom, and for my son."

Ekarick bows deeply. "As you command."

The morning sun casts a golden hue over the bustling marketplace of Raltheon. Merchants arrange their wares, children dart between stalls, and the aroma of freshly baked bread fills the air. Yet, an undercurrent of tension weaves through the crowd as news of King Edric's decree spreads like wildfire.

At the heart of the square, a group of nobles, draped in opulent garments, congregates near the marble fountain. Their faces, usually composed, are etched with disbelief and indignation.

"This is preposterous!" Lord Beric's voice rises above the din, his clenched fist trembling. "How does the king expect us to manage our estates without our monster servants?"

Lady Lara, her emerald necklace catching the sunlight, nods vehemently. "Indeed! Has His Majesty forgotten the centuries of tradition that have upheld our society?"

Another noble, a stout man with a ruddy complexion, grumbles, "It's not just tradition; it's our economy. Releasing them disrupts everything."

Nearby, common citizens gather in small clusters, their faces a mix of confusion and concern.

A blacksmith wipes soot from his brow, muttering, "Without the kobold apprentices, how am I to meet my quotas?"

A washerwoman wrings her hands, whispering to a friend, "The monster maid has been with our family for years. She's like kin. But... what choice do we have?"

As days pass, the unrest simmers. Petitions circulate, clandestine meetings are held, and whispers of dissent grow louder. The nobles, in particular, are vocal in their opposition, some openly defying the decree by retaining their monster slaves.

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Then, on the third day, the tension reaches its zenith.

In the central square, a makeshift gallows stands ominously against the morning sky. A crowd gathers, murmurs of curiosity and fear intertwining. Guards lead forth Lord Berric, his hands bound, his face pale but resolute.

A herald steps forward, unrolling a parchment. "By order of King Edric, Lord Berric is found guilty of defying the royal decree mandating the release of all monster slaves. The penalty is death."

Gasps ripple through the assembly. Lady Lara pushes to the front, her voice trembling. "This is madness! You cannot do this!"

The herald's gaze remains unwavering. "The law is clear. Let this serve as a warning."

The execution proceeds swiftly. As Lord Berric's lifeless body hangs, a heavy silence blankets the square. The message is unmistakable.

In the following days, the resistance dissipates. Nobles quietly release their monster slaves, and commoners follow suit. The fear of sharing Lord Berric's fate quells further dissent.

In the royal chambers, King Edric stands by the window, observing the city below. His advisor, Ekarick, approaches.

"Your Majesty, the decree is being followed. The execution had the desired effect."

---

A month has passed since King Edric's decree, and the streets of Eldoria, the capital of the Raltheon Kingdom, have undergone a subtle yet profound transformation. Monsters from the Erevaris Kingdom now traverse the city openly, their heads held high, embodying a newfound dignity. Humans, though visibly uneasy, have adapted to this change, acutely aware of their kingdom's submission to Erevaris.

In the bustling marketplace, a monster adorned in a simple tunic examines a merchant's array of fruits. His massive frame casts a shadow over the stall as he picks up an apple, inspecting it with a discerning eye.

The merchant, an elderly man with a weathered face, forces a smile. "Fine choice, sir. That apple's fresh from the orchards this morning."

The minotaur nods, reaching into a leather pouch to retrieve coins. As he hands them over, his gaze meets the merchant's. "Your produce is renowned even in Erevaris. It's good to finally experience it firsthand."

Nearby, a group of human children play a game of marbles. Their laughter fills the air until a towering monster approaches, his steps causing the ground to tremble slightly. The children freeze, eyes wide with apprehension.

Another monster crouches down, a gentle smile softening his otherwise fearsome features. "Don't stop on my account. I used to play this game in my youth. May I watch?"