In Another World With Just Monika - Chapter 127 The Beast King

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Agrabah.

There was no other way to describe it, really. In the distance the royal palace shone a pure bright white. It looked more like the Taj Mahal than Agrabah castle, but far more defensible. Along the way was a city made of sun-dried brick, with streets filled with a riot of colors and cultures. The different tribes of the beastkin mingled freely in Berge. They mixed and developed towards a single direction, an entity that was known as Mismede.

I couldn’t help but to hum the Prince Ali song under my breath. (1) The one by Robin Williams. Yumina looked up quizzically at me.

Our carriages headed directly to the palace. Like Alephis, a river formed part of a moat separating royal grounds from the rest of the city. Although Berge had a weaker economy than Belfast, their palace was much more imposing. Volume for volume the Royal Palace of Alephis was bigger, but that was because it was built into a hill as much as over it. The Belfast capital had tall strong walls but the castle itself looked fairly thin and vertical, with a faintly plant-like architectural motif. It hinted that the defense was as much magical as it was physical.

By contrast Berge’s castle was mostly thick white walls. A staircase angled at about 45 degrees led up to great double doors, making it more difficult to set up a battering ram. In times of war I supposed someone would have to tear down the marble steps and build a ramp, but they would have pack a lot of dirt to a longer, shallower path so that siege engines don’t slide back.

Probably would be easier with magic, now that I was thinking about it though.

I stared up at the four surrounding towers. They looked like stately minarets, but the many arrow slits hinted a different purpose. Instead of more towers, the palace seemed to want to concentrate as much fire onto a single area as much as possible, going vertical rather than angular walls. They didn’t design “trace italienne” star forts (2) just yet, which I supposed made sense because magic while powerful also differed from cannons. Tall towers to hit other mages from beyond their range were more useful than low thick walls designed to absorb shock.

… Did beastkin possess magic though?

Thinking about it, I presumed so, since Charlotte had to be taught by the only other person with five elemental affinities here in Mismede. While in Belfast she could instead have been taught different specializations one by one by different teachers, the difference in teaching methods seemed enough to allow her to roflstomp her competition, and become the Court Mage at such a young age.

We had to leave the carriages and walk up before being allowed into the royal grounds. Past the outer walls was a beautiful garden with neatly arranged trees, upon which frolicked birds and small animals. The happy noise of life greeted us. Like the Taj Mahal, there was a great pool filling up the center of the courtyard, elegant and dual purpose in times of a siege. Their water source was whatever was pumping water into that pool. As a magician, my thoughts immediately went into all the ways that standing water could be frozen into explosive ice shard or that pool emptied and filled with flaming traps. Unseen underwater means people would be funneled to either side rather than step onto the pool, which made them more vulnerable to more traps and magic that could wipe out attacker all gathered into a line.

We passed through into the inner palace, past a room of ornate pillars. Sunlight bathed the insides of the palace from high skylight windows, the heat broken by the pillars themselves, and reflecting from the bright marble floor. The effect all added up to a room that despite its structure didn’t have many shadows.

Finally we reached the far end of the corridor with another great set of double doors. The guards opened it with a loud ominous creak, and beyond was the throne room of Mismede.

A large red carpet went from the doors to the throne, either side bathed with sunlight falling in patterns from the stained glass high windows. Standing on either side of the carpet near the throne were people dressed in robes and other gaudily-decorated clothing, which I assumed were the ministers and advisors of the court. They represented the different tribes of the beastkin, some were horned, others were winged, others were furred, most had subtle animal features.

Beyond them all, seated high on his throne, was the ruler of this country. The Beastking Jamuka Blau Mismede.

It struck me then that given my all sample size of *two*, all the kings I’ve met so far in this other world were *jacked*. Like King Tristwin of Belfast himself, King Jamuka was a huge imposing presence. But where the King of Belfast emphasized that with the cut of his clothes, the only concession to kingliness that King Jamukha gave was his crown and a red fur-lined cape.

His huge beefy arms were left exposed as he sat on the throne. His species was apparently snow leopard, and his thick white beard and mustache gave the impression of a furry feline face. His yellow eyes glittered with regal power and a little hint of mischief.
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Seriously though, just imagine if Hulk Hogan was a king.

Elze, Linze, Me, Yumina, Yae, Olga, Lyon, Garm – we dropped to one knee to show respect.

“My liege… I, Olga Strand, have made my return from the Kingdom of Belfast.”

“Hmh. Well done. And you – Garm, and you – Belfastian knight,” he addressed the two men on either side of her, “I am pleased by your accomplishment in protecting Our subject.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Lyon responded with his head still bowed.

“Thank you, Your Beastliness!” Garm replied similarly.

Wait, what. That’s the proper address for Mismede royalty?

Then the King looked past them and to the second row, me with the girls. His eyes curved up a little in interest. He gestured to allow all of us to stand up again.

“And you there… sent also by Belfast’s king- I heard that despite only being so few, you were able to slay the dragon that was wreaking havoc in our village of Eld. Is this true?”

Yumina nodded. I felt Elze’s left hand grip my shoulder.

Don’t you say anything, Playa. Don’t start another war with your stupid mouth hole.

This we all agreed well ahead of time. I may have the Thu’um but Yumina was the Voice of the group. “Your information was correct, Your Highness. While I myself have done little in contribution, the other four beside me were the ones that felled the black dragon attacking Eld.”

Everyone stared at her. Yumina answered his question with not a single hint of fear in the presence of royalty, in the heart of their power. “And who are you?” the King asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

Yumina curtsied. “Pardon my late introduction, please. I am Yumina Erneas Belfast, the daughter Tristwin Ernes Belfast, king of the Kingdom of Belfast.”

Her words caused a stir, as expected. Olga and Lyon were aware of her status, but Garm’s eyes widened with shock. His wolf ears lifted straight up. The ministers began whispering among themselves.

“Ooh? What business brings the Princess of Belfast into My domain?”

*The* Princess, not *a* Princess. Belfast’s royals having only one child was well known and this was specially risky.

“This is but a gesture to show the importance my father attaches to the matter offered for your consideration. I bring with me a message from my father, I humbly ask that you read what he has written.” Yumina took out the letter sealed in a thick envelope and bowed again with her arms stretched out.

One of the aides took the letter from her hands and brought it to the Beastking King. Jamukha broke the wax seal and skimmed over the contents. He nodded and set the papers aside for the aide to put away.

“Interesting. We think understand the situation- but We will take time to consider it.” He looked at Yumina and smiled gently. “Don’t worry, We will be sure to give you Our response soon enough.”

It occurred to me that the use of the Royal We was vastly more appropriate with a confederation of tribes like Mismede than a monocultural block like conventional kingdoms. “Until then, feel free to make yourselves at home,” the King of Mismede finished.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Yumina replied. She stepped back onto the line with us.

A moment of silence passed. We fidgeted as the king did nothing but to glower down at us from his throne.

The King coughed into his fist. “Right then, with the formalities out of the way, there’s a thing I gotta ask-”

All of us from Belfast were taken aback. The King of Mismede looked all serious and imposing there, and then suddenly relaxed and began talking like a broski. That whole comparison with Hulk Hogan became even more eerie.

He looked somewhat old, perhaps in his fifties, but still powerfully built. He pointed a thick accusing finger at me. “You there! Red kid!”

I pointed to my face. “… me?”

“Yeah, you! I heard you were the one to really end that dragon.” With a bland, skeptical tone of voice: “Did you really punch a dragon to death with your bare hands?”

My equally bland response: “… No. I rode the dragon up into the sky and punched lightning into its eye until it died.”

Everyone turned to stare at me. Elze groaned and began rubbing the bridge of her nose. She was considering how we might have to fight our way out of the palace now.

And surprisingly so did all of the ministers sag and give out collective sighs of resignation.

The King closed his pointing finger to a fist. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Gyaaahahaha! Interesting! Really interesting! It’s been a while since my blood’s boiled this hard!” He stood up from his throne and flexed. “Boyo! How about it? Why not have a spar with me?”

I blinked.

Then I posed.

My right hand splayed open to barely cover my face, the other into a fist cocked on my hips. “Do I get anything if I win?”

“Hahaha!” The King laughed good-naturedly. “NO!”

“So just for the fun of it, then. I ACCEPT!”

“Oh no there’s two of theeem…” someone whispered in clear pain.

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