Chapter Twenty-Five: The Grand Ceremony

Among all the various races, each has its own unique holidays, but in the human world, the most prominent festival is the “Christmas” that has been passed down since the era of knights. This holiday commemorates the day when, according to legend, the God of Light descended upon the mortal realm to save humanity. Although the English Empire and the Franknian Empire no longer adhere to the old and decaying traditions of the Church of Light, they still worship the God of Light, calling themselves Protestants—though the traditional church deems them heretics.

Regardless of whether they are considered heretics, the way these countries celebrate Christmas remains the same, with one notable exception: the Moris Empire.

Emperor Moris, who hailed from minor nobility, had no affection for the Church of Light. Fueled by the bitterness of having been abandoned by the church, this autocrat—who had built his grand empire on personal prestige—did what no other nation dared: he abolished Christmas and, with audacious arrogance, declared his own birthday to be the national holiday for the entire Moris Empire.

During the wars with the Elven Empire, the human populations of the Istanbul region were ravaged repeatedly. Those who did not seek the protection of Emperor Moris either fled or were captured by the elves and made slaves. This is why, after founding his empire, Emperor Moris enjoyed such a solid foundation of rule—those who survived regarded him as a savior. Both commoners and nobles, having endured the crucible of war, were well aware of whom they owed their allegiance and admiration.

Thus, it was only natural that the birthday of the autocrat Moris became the national holiday, and all holidays associated with the Church of Light were abolished.

When Sun Li arrived in the Moris Empire, he “happened” to coincide with Emperor Moris’s birthday, the very day of the empire’s national celebration. Emperor Moris, unsurprised as though it had been prearranged, reserved a seat of honor for Sun Li.

In the 565th year of the Continental Calendar, the national holiday of the Moris Empire appeared grander than ever, for Emperor Moris was to hold a spectacular military parade that year!

Over the past two years of rigorous preparation, Emperor Moris had doubled the empire’s standing army to one hundred thousand—this world’s most formidable force. With a military genius at the helm, it seemed clear that peace was beginning to slip away from this world.

In the capital, ten thousand members of the Imperial Royal Guard stood ready to be reviewed by the great Emperor Moris. With the display of overwhelming military might, Moris sought to rally the nation’s support for a war to eradicate the cancerous Church of Light.

Moreover, this was to be the largest, most populous military parade in history—never before had a nation spent so lavishly to assemble its army for the sake of a single march!

Clearly, Emperor Moris possessed a vision that surpassed that of his predecessors; he understood how critical it was to bolster national confidence before a total war.

Indeed, during the month Sun Li had spent in the Moris Empire, he saw what a true nation-state looked like. Here, commoners joined the army not merely for pay or status, but out of genuine devotion to their country. Thanks to the empire’s propaganda, even the uneducated soldiers and citizens understood that their sacrifice would secure more living space for their descendants.

These commoners no longer blindly worshipped deities; instead, they actively supported their nation and leader, aware that they, too, were part-owners of their country—words spoken by Emperor Moris himself in his national addresses.

The Moris Empire, though the smallest in territory, with the least population and even less arable land—mostly hills and mountains—was the first and only human nation Sun Li had seen where national consciousness had awakened. It possessed a terrifying cohesion, soldiers willing to die for their country, and a populace who regarded national strength as the key to their future happiness. Such a small yet united nation-state was truly formidable.

Now Sun Li understood why the Church of Light was so desperate to destroy the Moris Empire. This nation-state, upon awakening, had already unleashed such power; given time, the Church of Light might well become a relic of history.

To be frank, the one who understood the Moris Empire best was the Grandmaster of the Holy Knights, for any power that recognized the empire’s terrifying potential would consider it their greatest foe.

Victoria and the Emperor of Franknia clearly had not realized the peril of a true nation-state, still busily sowing discord between the Divine Kingdom and Moris, hoping to watch them tear each other apart. As for the elves of the Elven Empire, those noble beings were born united and would readily sacrifice themselves for their kin, so the idea of national consciousness was foreign to them. Were it not for their low birth rates, their united front might have already brought all of Europa under their rule. As for the Madrid Empire—well, best they simply go to sleep and dream.

After learning of the Moris Empire’s situation, Sun Li finally made up his mind: this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This time, he would go for broke—the awakened nation-state of Moris had to be destroyed.

On the capital’s grand square, lanterns hung everywhere, and vigilant soldiers stood at every post. Groups of Morisian citizens gathered on the streets of their own accord, celebrating the birthday of their nation’s founder—the savior who had led them out of hell, Emperor Moris. The city’s excellent security, the cheerful crowds—all seemed to radiate harmony and well-being. Sun Li could not help but admit, in all the human realms of Europa, the Moris Empire was the true paradise for commoners, bar none.

Honor guards, military bands, and soldiers of every corps assembled for the parade, all arrayed in perfect formations stretching from the square’s entrance out beyond the city gates. The sheer scale of the parade was unimaginable.

A closer look at the soldiers revealed something odd: the Imperial Guards marching in the parade wore grand dress uniforms and shouldered flintlock muskets, but aside from the finery, they carried live ammunition and all the gear for battle. Every musket was loaded—a practice strictly forbidden in a standard military parade. If even one soldier lost his mind and fired at the reviewing stand, the consequences would be catastrophic!

Not only the infantry, but also the cavalry and artillery were fully armed for battle, not just with ornate ceremonial swords. Of course, these well-ordered formations were kept out of reach of ordinary onlookers, with guards maintaining a cordon and politely reminding citizens to keep away from the Emperor’s loyal guards preparing for the ceremony. All of this lent an air of peculiarity to the proceedings.

At this moment, Sun Li found himself inexplicably ushered into a VIP chamber, some distance from the grandstand overlooking the parade. Why, he wondered, had he been brought here?