Bound To The Dead: The Deceptive Class-E Farmer-Chapter 84: Not a Throne, But a Path

Seven days had passed since the battle.

Now, Spawnhold stood quiet. Not from fear but from grief.

The firewood had been prepared. The priest stood ready. And on the raised stone platform lay the body of King Rody, wrapped in silk and royal blue cloth. His hands were crossed over his chest, and his silver crown rested beside him.

At the front of the crowd, Queen Aiah of Bulcan stood with her royal guards behind her. She bowed her head respectfully, her cloak catching in the wind.

Isaac stood a few steps behind her. Silent. Still. His eyes fixed on the old man’s peaceful face.

As the priest’s chant deepened, Isaac’s gaze fixed on the crown beside the king’s still hands... and in that flickering firelight, a memory returned, uninvited.

A few days earlier...

The old king lay weakly on his bed, his skin pale and paper-thin. His breath was shallow. His once-powerful voice had softened to a whisper. Only Isaac was in the room.

Rody opened his eyes slowly.

"...Isaac. Are you there?"

Isaac stepped closer. "Yes. I’m here."

The king gave a small smile. "Good. I didn’t want to leave without speaking to you one last time."

There was a short silence. Then Rody spoke again.

"I know... what lives inside you."

Isaac’s expression didn’t change, but his body tensed. "You do?"

"Yes," Rody said. "The one behind your strength. I once called him... a friend."

Isaac blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I am not someone who dreams easily. But when I do, whatever I dream always comes true. Before you even arrived, I had already met you in my dreams."

Rody looked up at the ceiling, eyes distant. "When I was a child, I found a cave in the heart of Dudael Forest. It was quiet. Cold. And in that darkness... he talked to me."

"You’re saying you talked to the being inside me?"

"Yes. And since then I always ran there whenever I didn’t want to be a prince and needed someone to talk to. He told me stories. Of the battles he fought. The kingdoms he burned. The demons who knelt before him. He wasn’t kind, but he wasn’t cruel either. Maybe just... old. Tired. Lonely."

Isaac stayed quiet.

"One day, he asked me something strange. He asked permission to enter my body."

Then Isaac remembered it’s the same thing he did to him.

"I said no," Rody said calmly. "But I promised... if I survived and grew up strong, I’d come back. Maybe then I’d be ready."

"...Did you ever go back?"

Rody shook his head. "Never."

"Why?"

"I searched for answers first," Rody said. "I read old books, visited ruined temples, even crossed borders I wasn’t allowed to. I wanted to know who or what he really was."

The king closed his eyes. "Eventually, I found a name. In a Book of Job. Sealed long ago by seven Archangels. They said he wasn’t a man. Not even a demon. Just... something that shouldn’t have existed."

A chill crept into Isaac’s spine.

"So I never returned," Rody finished. "And I buried the secret. Even when I became king, I never told anyone... until now."

"...Why tell me?"

"Because you’re walking a path I once feared to walk," Rody whispered. "And I don’t want you to be alone."

The king coughed, his strength fading.

"Take care of Spawnhold... and Aiah. She’ll need someone who can carry what I’ve left behind."

Isaac nodded. "I will."

Rody’s voice softened. "In the last layer of Dudael Forest... maybe that’s where your answers are. That’s where I felt the pull strongest. Where even the animals refuse to go."

"I see..."

Rody gave him one last look, his eyes soft.

"Thank you... Isaac. I’m glad it was you."

His eyes slowly closed.

And the room fell silent.

The memory faded.

The fire had been lit.

Flames rose around the body of King Rody as chants filled the air. The people of Spawnhold knelt in silence, heads lowered in respect.

—------

Moments later, fire had already died down.

All that remained of King Rody were glowing embers and a scattering of ash.

The crowd stayed silent.

Spawnhold’s officials stood on one side, cloaked in purple. Bulcan’s knights stood on the other, dressed in crimson and black. The space between them felt wide.

But Queen Aiah stepped forward, her voice gentle yet clear.

She removed her hood, letting the wind lift her long hair.

She faced both sides, and smiled.

"King Rody was a wise and kind ruler," she said. "Even in his last breath, he thought of all of you. Not as subjects, not as soldiers... but as his people."

Her voice carried, not with power, but with calm strength. freёnovelkiss.com

"Before he passed, he left behind a decision. A gift."

"Spawnhold will now be part of Bulcan."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some gasped. Others looked uncertain. A few even lowered their heads.

Aiah didn’t flinch.

"This is not an end," she said, her voice rising slightly. "This is a beginning."

"Spawnhold and Bulcan have always fought side by side. We bled together. We stood against the darkness, together. And now, we move forward... together."

The wind blew across the ashes behind her. Some floated upward, glowing softly in the fading sun.

"You are not outsiders. You are not second. You are Bulcan."

"Your families. Your homes. Your voices. Your future... they matter."

"From today on, Spawnhold’s officials will serve as Bulcan officials. Your banners will fly beside ours. Your laws and customs will be respected, because your identity will never be erased. It will be honored."

Aiah paused, then took a slow breath.

"No wall or boundaries stand between us anymore. Only one nation. One people. One future."

Her words settled over the crowd like snow. Quiet. Peaceful. Gentle.

Then someone clapped.

Another followed.

And another.

Soon, the whole crowd was cheering, not loudly, but with relief. With warmth.

Aiah smiled again, then stepped back beside Isaac.

Spawnhold was no longer a borderland.

It was home.

—------

Later that evening, the meeting room inside Spawnhold’s palace was filled with voices.

Candles burned low. The large wooden table was surrounded by officials, nobles and commanders from both nations.

Queen Aiah sat at the head. Her eyes were calm, but sharp. She said little, letting the room speak.

All voices turned to one name.

One man.

"Isaac should lead Spawnhold."

"He united us."

"He defended this kingdom with his own hands."

"He’s the reason we’re standing here."

The room nodded in agreement. Even those who had never seen him fight felt the weight of his name.

Isaac stood quietly near the door, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, gaze low. He didn’t shift. He didn’t smile.

After a long pause, Queen Aiah finally spoke.

"Isaac. The room is with you. What is your will?"

All eyes turned.

He met their gaze.

His voice was steady, not loud, but firm enough that everyone heard.

"You don’t need me to lead," Isaac said. "You need me to keep the monsters away."

The room fell silent.

"Marvik commands your ranks. He’s always been here. He knows your people. He’s earned your trust."

Isaac glanced at General Marvik, who straightened in surprise.

"I’ll deal with what comes next," Isaac finished. "Let Marvik lead."

It was short.

Clear.

Undeniable.

Even those who wished to argue didn’t speak. They looked at Isaac, not as a ruler, but something more.

A protector.

He didn’t want power. He didn’t need a throne.

And somehow... that made them trust him even more.

Soon... he would leave. The Dudael Forest was waiting.