Klarion leaned back against the pillows piled behind him, settling into the comfort of his bed while the soft, steady rhythm of Hatsune’s breathing filled the room. Looking over, he saw the Leporine had settled into sleep, curled up with the blanket bunched tight around her. It was odd, having someone else sleeping in the room with him, sharing his space like this. Yet he had meant what he had said earlier. He really did like having her around.
Turning his attention back to the thick book in his hands, he was grateful for being a quick reader. He flipped through the initial pages at a brisk pace, scanning the lines with practiced ease, which was strange as it was not written in English but the language of the Empire. Still, whatever Rolfun had done to allow him to speak the Imperial tongue allowed him not only basic literacy but the ability to read even a niche book like this one.
In some ways, he had expected the history of House Blacksword to feel less like a dry account of dates and deeds and more like an epic fantasy tale. You know the kind. Imperial knights slaying dragons to save noblewomen, or perhaps epic journeys to destroy ancient evil artifacts. As fascinating as those expectations were, Klarion couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed as he made it past the first few pages. The book’s scope was broad, more a sweeping general history than an intricate record of the finer details he hoped to learn about House Blacksword. He had hoped for more personal anecdotes or perhaps even intimate glimpses into the politics and intrigue of his extended family.
Instead, the narrative maintains a detached, almost scholarly tone. The author seemed more interested in presenting an unbiased account than indulging in storytelling flourishes. There were no dramatic revelations, no thrilling recounts of pivotal movements from a first-person perspective — just a methodical exploration of facts, dates, and key events.
Klarion shifted against the pillows, adjusting his position slightly. Despite his initial disappointment, he had to admit there was value in the author’s approach. The effort to remain objective was evident from the very beginning, with lengthy footnotes citing multiple sources and extensive appendices cross-referencing conflicting accounts. The author had clearly gone to great lengths to verify the veracity of what was written. He supposed that that effort alone helped justify the high price in Coins of Knowledge that he had spent to obtain a personal copy.
Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming. Yet, as he continued reading, bits and pieces began to form a clearer picture of House Blacksword’s history. The earliest generation were professional soldiers, carving their domain from the equivalent of untamed wilderness and enemy kingdoms across a dozen worlds in this region of what would become the western portion of the Treverorum Empire. He had partly expected that, given what he remembered about his own education growing up, during which he was taught about how Empires like those of the British and Russians often spread their control of territory and peoples through violent means. Indeed, what struck Klarion the most in those early pages was how what would become an Archducal House was perceived by those they encountered. According to some cited accounts, House Blacksword had been seen by the local races as “monsters in the dark.” Apparently, the Blackswords had fought their way into the region, confronting entrenched powers with ruthless efficiency. Their methods were brutal, and their victories absolute. Entire kingdoms were razed across multiple worlds, the leaders opposing Imperial might brought to ruin.
What struck Klarion most was the sheer scale of it all. The Treverorum Empire’s expansion in the region, facilitated by House Blacksword, had spanned vast territories, a size that still boggled his sensibilities, bound as they were by Earth-born scales. He struggled to comprehend the distances involved, let alone the logistics required to maintain control over such a vast domain. The text spoke of how the Blackswords had not only waged wars across hundreds — perhaps thousands — of worlds within this region of space but also ventured into other areas of the Multiverse. His eyes slowed as they came across that word on the page. It was one thing to grasp the concept of vast, interstellar empires run on magic and the rules of a gamified system; it was quite another to accept that such entities crossed into entirely different dimensions of existence.
Klarion returned to reading, and the mentions of the Multiverse quickly ended, the book returning to the more immediate circumstances of House Blacksword, particularly the reputation they had been accruing. The author did not shy away from acknowledging the reputation of these early Blackswords. “To their enemies,” one passage read, “the Blackswords were a force of unrelenting destruction, wielding steel and Essence without mercy. Yet, to their friends and allies, they were stalwart defenders and protectors, willing to spill their own blood to protect those they held dear.”
Klarion leaned back, absorbing the weight of those words. Monsters in the dark, yes — but monsters who were fiercely loyal to their own. It painted a complex picture of his ancestors, one that he had to admit resonated deeply with him given his situation, despite the vast cultural and temporal gap between them and his own experiences back on Earth.
He thought of the way Houses interacted here at the Imperial Academy, with alliances and rivalries simmering just beneath the surface. The notion of unwavering loyalty to friends and brutal vengeance against enemies was no longer foreign to him. Given the accounts in the book, it would be fair to say that he had entered a new existence in which a universal constant was power as the ultimate currency.
The book continued to describe how the new House Blacksword had quickly become counted among the elite of the nascent Treverorum Empire in the region. Originating from the Core Provinces themselves, the author briefly departed from his unbiased tone to praise how Blackswords had earned their place not just through martial might but also shrewd political maneuvering and unwavering dedication to the Empire’s cause. Despite their initial reputation as reavers of the battlefield, they had been instrumental in stabilizing the region, helping to set up and protect new trading relationships while securing hundreds of border worlds. Even the locals, once hostile to the Blackswords, had gradually come to respect — and even rely upon — their strength.
Pausing for a moment to digest what he had read, Klarion’s mind drifted as he considered what the early legacy of House Blacksword meant for him. His time at the Imperial Academy had shown him from the first day that many other scions eyed him with suspicion, disdain, or even outright hostility.
And yet, there were also those who had already aligned themselves with him. It reminded him of the dichotomy described in the book: brutal to enemies, protective of friends. That was a lesson that really resonated with him. And one that he didn’t think he would have a problem adopting for how he did things going forward.
Klarion returned to the book, flipping another page, skimming through more accounts of the expansion of the Blackswords and their consolidation of power. Battles against opposing factions, marauding monsters, and rogue dungeons all painted a picture of him sharing a lineage that had been defined by war, struggle, and survival. Throughout, there was a clear pattern — those who committed acts of cruelty or sought to destabilize the region through terror and savagery were dealt with mercilessly. House Blacksword did not believe in half-measures when it came to protecting their people.
His brow furrowed as the authored referenced an account of one such campaign. A neighboring House had resorted to enslaving an entire Imperial frontier world and using dark magic against the Blacksword over a dispute they had. When House Blacksword learned of what they had done, they left no stone unturned, and over the course of a decade, they dismantled the enemy House in its entirety.
There was no glory in the descriptions of the actions House Blacksword took, only grim necessity. Klarion felt some understanding — sometimes, hard choices were required. The end of the duel with Ort had been how he had chosen to send a message of his own. Perhaps House Blacksword’s reputation as monsters in the dark wasn’t entirely unjustified, but he hoped it was incomplete. That they were also protectors as much as the were protectors, that they were willing to bear the burden of harsh deeds so that others could live in peace.
As he read on, Klarion felt more than a little relief. Additional notes and short mentions of other actions taken by the Blackswords, made clear the fact that his House was also defined by loyalty, honor, and justice — though their interpretation could be harsh by Earth standards. That was more than a bit relieving. He had been worried he had been bound without choice to a family of monsters. That they also honored their friends regardless of race, forming alliances and trading agreements with species and cultures that other noble houses might have dismissed or looked down upon simple because of who they were was not only something that Klarion agreed with, but hoped would provide some early opportunities for building up his own alliances at the Imperial Academy. Still skimming, he mentally marked a few pages referencing specific Houses that he might look into at a later time. As soon as he was done, he flipped to the next chapter.
And that was when the tone of the book shifted.
The early chapters had been filled with stories of conquest and expansion, the vivid portrait of a House whose legacy stood as a bulwark against chaos and enemies beyond the walls of the Empire. The latest chapter delved into more recent events, and the picture painted was grim. House Blacksword, once a preeminent force in this portion of the Empire, was all but in ruins. Its name, previously synonymous with strength and power, had fallen into disgrace; what reputation it had remaining, in tatters.
The author didn’t mince words, suggesting that the House was being targeted by multiple covert enemies. Apparently, this fall had begun with a grand wedding between an outside power and the “gem of the heirs” in House Blacksword. The choice of words was interesting, but the author provided no further elaboration on that heir’s identity. Instead, attention shifted to the chaos that followed. According to the author, an ambush had taken place during a massive invasion of the House Throneworld itself — an event that shook the very foundations of the Blacksword, given the historical inviolability of that world.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Though the book refrained from detailing the sides involved, the author did note that House Blacksword managed to beat back the invasion. But victory came at an unimaginable cost. The power structure that had defined the house for generations was left in ruins, shattered beyond immediate repair.
Klarion’s hands tightened around the edges of the book as he read more about the aftermath. The core family, once a bastion of strength, was reduced to a mere handful of surviving members. They had been forced to rely heavily on the branch families of the House to maintain even a semblance of their former power. The imagery conjured by the author was bleak — House Blacksword standing amid the ashes of its former glory, desperately trying to regroup as vultures circled overhead.
And the vultures had names.
Klarion’s eyes sharpened as the author mentioned House Brightcoin. The revelation came with a caveat; it had taken the author considerable time to confirm the involvement of that rival house. According to what he had been able to unearth, House Brightcoin and its allies had moved covertly at first, striking from the shadows. But as time went on, their actions had become bolder, their intentions clearer. By the time of his writing, the author considered it to be an open secret: House Brightcoin was leading the charge against House Blacksword, seeking to dismantle what little remained of its power and influence. Indeed, beyond waging a covert war, House Brightcoin also leveraged its considerable financial resources to purchase the territories and worlds once held by House Blacksword. Some had been lost through despoilment by other enemies; others had been wrested away in cunning deals and betrayals.
Despite the grim reality described on the pages, Klarion sensed a defiant undertone in the text. The author noted that House Blacksword had not gone quietly into the night. They had executed what amounted to a fighting retreat, refusing to surrender even as the odds mounted against them. That stubborn defiance was something else Klarion recognized. It was a trait he held as well — the refusal to yield, no matter how dire the circumstances.
Turning his attention back to the book, he moved to the next chapter, seeing that there was not much remaining. He was getting tired, especially his eyes, but he refused to go to sleep until he had finished the book. His gut was telling him tomorrow was going to be a busy day, despite it being the start of the long weekend.
His persistence was rewarded in the first few paragraphs, during which the author revealed that the downfall of House Blacksword was not solely the work of House Brightcoin. The other Archducal Houses in the region had played their part as well. Though none seemed to hold a true vendetta against House Blacksword, they all had seen the weakening of the once-mighty House as an opportunity too tempting to ignore. The result of those several decades of struggle ended up being referred to as the Five-House War.
He blinked several times, trying to bring the pages back into focus. Fighting against the looming presence of sleep, he read faster, less skimming and more bouncing from page to page, looking for any important details. Mention was made of many minor families of nobility aligned with the Archducal Houses as having swooped in to claim scraps from House Blacksword’s misfortunes as well. Territory, trade routes, and key resources that once bolstered his family’s House were now scattered amongst dozens of opportunistic rivals before the war gradually shifted into a state of ceasefire. Though they were not driven by deep enmity, but simply the nature of politics and survival, Klarion had a hard time finding it within himself to forgive them.
The last portion of the chapter made reference to the unraveling alliances of House Blacksword. Many of the other Houses that had once stood firmly by his family’s side abandoned it, either out of fear or self-preservation. The political landscape was shifting, and few wanted to be dragged down alongside a House teetering on the brink of collapse.
But not all had turned their backs.
Klarion made another note of the page that mentioned a small number of Houses that had remained fully loyal, refusing to betray old bonds despite the growing pressure to do so. He struggled to read their names, his vision going in and out of focus. He really wanted to sleep. But not yet. He turned to the final chapter, where the author shared his final observations about House Blacksword.
Contrary to his expectations, the author took a step back to focus on the region as a whole. With House Blacksword’s power waning, and the infighting increasing, the borders of the Treverorum Empire in the region weakened as well. What had once been a stronghold of stability had become a fractured and vulnerable frontier.
And this vulnerability could not have come at a worse time.
According to the author, aid and support from the Core and other regions of the Empire had decreased in recent years. Political turmoil, economic strife, and military campaigns elsewhere had stretched the Empire’s resources thin. The Western region was now left largely to fend for itself.
Klarion’s chest tightened as he read the author’s grim warning, dated to only a few years ago. Outside powers, sensing weakness, were beginning to gather to exploit the situation for their own gain. Given its size, immense resources, and massive populations of various races, the region was more than a tempting prize for ambitious enemies of the Empire. The thought of foreign forces descending upon the region, sowing chaos and destruction, filled Klarion with a sense of foreboding.
Earth.
His homeworld was about to go through the Integration process in the next few years, and he could imagine what would happen to it if the region of the Empire it was supposed to merge into was descending into any number of new wars and invasions. Shaking away visions of bloodshed and the bodies of his friends and family back in Volksturm, Klarion pushed his weary eyes to continue looking over the last pages of the book.
He was glad he did, as the author’s final words struck him hard and gave him a small measure of hope to offset the trepidation he felt. “House Blacksword, though diminished, still stands,” the author wrote. “Its survival, precarious as it may be, is a testament to its resilience. Yet, if it is to rise again, it will need strength, unity, and leadership capable of navigating the treacherous waters ahead. The fate of the region — and perhaps the Empire itself — may well hinge on the choices made by the scions of House Blacksword in the years to come.”
Klarion closed the book slowly, the weight of what the author said settling heavily on his mind. The room was silent save for the soft crackle of the fire and Hatsune’s quiet breathing. He exhaled, feeling a mix of determination and dread. Though sleep continued trying to sink its claws into him, he kept it at bay for a few minutes more to consider what he had read. The history of House Blacksword, his House, had begun as a tale of triumph and strength but had changed into one of decline and desperation. The book had painted a far grimmer picture of the Archducal House than he had hoped.
And now he was here — summoned from Earth to the Imperial Academy as a scion of that House.
Yes, his presence made sense. House Blacksword clearly needed every potential scion with a drop of blood of their family it could muster. Only through securing the family could they continue to pursue the strength, allies, and resources needed to rebuild the fractured legacy of the Blacksword. Klairon being at the Academy must have been a part of that desperate strategy.
Given how it was besieged on all fronts from multiple parties, perhaps that explained why no representative or message had yet arrived from them to him. They were simply too busy struggling to survive against enemies both covert and overt. But if he was so important to their plans, surely they would be trying to contact him at some point, right?
He frowned, setting the book aside on the side table. No messages, no representatives, no resources — nothing. As much as the book had provided clarity as to the overall situation for House Blacksword, it had also raised more questions about his own personal circumstances, and the silence that had followed him since his arrival at the Academy weighed on him more than ever. Regardless of their intentions for him, his family had left him to fend for himself without so much as a token gesture of support.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, slumping back into his pillows. The sharpness of the word felt right. It was the only thing close to being capable enough of capturing his frustration at that moment. It was hard to put the pieces together, to grasp the true scale of what was happening. Klarion wasn’t foolish — he knew that a family he had never known didn’t owe him anything. The world, after all, was a place where power came at a steep price, and loyalty was a rare commodity. But still, the bitter sting of his apparent abandonment burned deep in his chest.
He felt disconnected, adrift in a sea of uncertainty. He grimaced. The more he thought about it, the more the situation made sense only if House Blacksword truly didn’t care about him. At least not in a way that mattered. They cared about power, about status, about positioning themselves to weather the storm. He was just a part of that equation — an heir who could be disposed of when the time came. A symbol of their legacy, but little more than a pawn in their games.
“Fuck,” he repeated, the word this time filled with more venom. He rolled onto his side, the weight of his thoughts sinking him into the soft mattress beneath him. There was nothing left for him to cling to. No safety net. No family. Klarion knew only one thing for sure in that moment: he couldn’t rely on anyone but himself.
That truth settled in his mind, and for a moment, the weight pressing down on him was gone. House Blacksword, as powerful and as feared as it might have been, wasn’t coming to his aid. No one in the Empire outside the pocket plane of this Imperial Academy cared whether he lived or died. The only thing that mattered now was him. And what he chose to do.
If he was going to survive — if he was going to build a life for himself beyond the shadow of his family’s legacy and become strong enough to help Earth when the time came — he would have to build towards his future from the ground up. No more relying on others outside of his friends here. No more waiting on some future message or letter from his family. He would have to plan on carving his own path, and he would have to protect himself from the same enemies that had threatened House Blacksword for centuries now. Building alliances, fostering relationships, and securing his position at the Academy would be crucial. But Klarion also recognized the limitations of his current situation.
He needed a class.
Without a class, Klarion was at a significant disadvantage. Everyone would be harder without one. And he needed the best class he could get. Once he had one, he had a feeling that everything would change. He could feel it in his bones.
The thought brought with it a stronger sense of resolve. Klarion had never considered himself weak, but now he understood that strength wasn’t just about physical power or skill with a sword. It was about control — control over his destiny, control over his own actions, and control over his future. He couldn’t wait for anyone else to come through for him. He would be the only one who could shape his fate.
As his thoughts began to settle, Klarion finally lost the struggle with his eyelids. The exhaustion of the day, the emotional toll of the revelations contained within the book, and the weight of his future caught up with him all at once. He turned over onto his side, pulling the sheets over himself as sleep began to claim him.