Capítulo 92: Even if Millions Demand Your Head, Do not Give it Up (Part 2)
There were two destinies whose purposes Harun couldn't comprehend so far. Jiyan's Undecided, and Mehran's Inviolable. Though the System shed some light in both, more in Mehran's case, this still didn't allow Harun to know who or what caused them to carry such destinies. With no answer to that question, at least with Mehran, Harun had to tread carefully. Still, given the events Mehran faced till now, it went without saying that whatever Ancestor once had a strong link to him no longer sheltered him.
Fixing the Dark Stone High King with a steely gaze, Harun shook his head in disappointment, "Although you could reject your Dao Truth and achieve Nihility, I'm still disappointed in you. Since I've descended onto this land, I've heard much about you, Mehran Hisyar. Tenacity, wits, balance between ruthlessness and gentleness. People have praised and given you so many skills that I'd already put you on a pedestal. Imagine my disappointment, when on our first meeting, I see that you've already surrendered to fate," Harun started, and indeed, from the moment Mehran made the announcement of his Abdication Settlement, he'd surrendered to fate.
Worse, he didn't just surrender his crown. With it, he'd given up on his life too. This was the part that truly infuriated Harun, and for a second, made him forget that an Ancestor's relative potentially stood before him.
"Your life was given to you by destiny, your parents and you. Until the four can sit at a table and agree that it's time for you to kick the bucket, even if millions demand your head, do not give it up. Who gave you the right to decide on your own? How presumptuous!" Harun snapped and indexed Mehran with his wobbling finger. But baffled by the words, Mehran stared at him with an incredulous look.
"Then doesn't that mean...that I'm never supposed to accept death?" He said in a barely audible tone, to which Harun gave a vigorous nod of approval.
"Exactly! If it were me, I'd burn what remained of the granaries in the open, hurl the stored water at the streets, and get the fuck out! They can fight for the remains!"
"Sir…"
"Maybe also burn the stables!"
"With all due respect…"
"And loot their backyards while they fight!"
"You are stark raving mad," Mehran couldn't suppress the words, thus reminding Harun that he'd lost quite a bit of grand expert demeanor. Clearing his throat, Harun regained his composure. Thankfully, from start to finish, Mehran couldn't see his face.
"Of course, all this in a moderate measure. In any case, I can give you a way out, but you need two things. First, a choice, here and now. Do you want to remain the Dark Stone High King, or become one of my inner disciples. I can't be bothered with being your master, but I can give you pointers...from time to time. Regardless of what you choose, to the outside world, you remain the Dark Stone High King. The only difference is that in one case you sit on a wheelchair, drooling no end, and in the other, both your country and you rise alongside me.
Second, granted you picked road number two, you need to show me what you're made of by regaining control of this clusterfuck. The Dream Seers have been taken care of. The celestials will not bother you, and I will personally solve the weather problem if you perform well. From now on, you have no excuses," Harun offered, and placed his hands on either side of his hips, awaiting Mehran's reply.
Through his words, Mehran realized that besides those they'd disposed of already, more celestials hid, perhaps among the court officials, ready to cause trouble. Three faces flashed in his mind, and the high king bowed toward Harun, "Then sir, I invite you to watch how I dispose of my state's tumors," Mehran offered and turned heels. With a nod, Harun dispelled his golden shroud, Jiyan appeared at his right, and the two dropped beside Mehran, sandwiching him left and right. Not surprised that Harun had a helper nearby, Mehran didn't flinch, and led the two toward the throne room.
There, Mehran had royal seats prepared for both Harun and Jiyan behind a silk curtain, and the three awaited the rosy light of dawn, which marked the start of the Abdication Settlement gathering. The smiling face Mehran had greeted Harun with vanished, replaced by a detached, yet oppressive gaze fit for a tyrant. Pages and heralds announced the start of the gathering. Officials, high nobles and royals poured in according to their ranks, most facing Mehran with undisguised ridicule. Leading them were three people, one male and two females.
The male, a square-jawed middle-aged man, wore the maroon heavy armor and cape of a Dark Stone general. The females both wore royal gowns distinguished only by the color themes. Warm for one and cool for the other: the country's queen and dowager. The crown prince lay one step behind them. And at a glance, Harun could see that in looks or demeanor, the boy had inherited nothing of his "father." If anything…
"This position arrangement is wrong," Jiyan noted. And indeed, in a typical gathering, the dowager alone would stand at the front. The queen and crown prince followed, and then the top officials and princes after them. Why was the armored general at the front, fully equipped as if about to execute traitorous officials? Anyone with half a brain could understand what was going on. Mehran's mother, wife and top official all banded together to deal him the fatal blow. With his information network, Harun knew many facts that even royals had no knowledge of, and had seen this coming. Still, that didn't stop him from finding the whole setting rather sordid.
The dowager and queen both held their seals, but before Mehran could officially start the gathering, the armored man spoke up:
"I believe everyone here knows precisely why we gather, so there's no reason why we should waste time in trifles. Your Majesty's stubbornness has brought disaster on this country. Only with your abdication can we pacify the celestials and seers. Only with your abdication can we end this debilitating drought, the rampant mayhem that clogs the streets. The crown prince is virtuous, groomed and educated, adored by officials and citizens alike. He's now 32 years old, and more than ready to shoulder your burdens," The general-in-chief, leader of the armed forces, started.
The queen and dowager nodded, and motioned for the crown prince to step forward—which he did in wobbling steps.
"Mehran, as your mother, it pains me that we've reached this point. You could have been the number one monarch in this country's 1,000 years of history. But instead of thinking for the citizens' sake, you let your pride cloud your j—"
"Pipe down, will you?" The dowager had not finished her words that Mehran cut her dry. In a world where filial piety ruled supreme, this move caused universal outrage, and while the dowager grew livid, officials of the censorate boldly stepped forward.
Full of righteous zeal, they raised accusatory fingers at Mehran, ready to drown him in endless rebukes. But before the first word left their lips, Mehran waved his right hand, and the officials' heads rolled off their necks—beheaded by clean strikes. Blood spattered the dowager, queen, and general-in-chief's faces.
"To speak before the monarch gives you permission is the highest of offenses. I do not execute you two because you still have a role to play, but don't overstep." Mehran said, and instantly, all grew quiet. The strongest on the scene were the general and dowager, both at the middle-stage of the Daoist Realm. Yet, neither saw how nor when Mehran made his move—proof that an abysmal gap stood between them.
"First, I don't mind abdicating, but I don't see how that will stop the drought I started. Since I summoned it, it seems to me that I am the most qualified to end it. Are you sure you want me out of the picture?" Mehran coolly asked, and as soon as those words echoed, Harun, who'd been observing it all with rapt attention, lost his bearings.
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