Chương 90: The Victory Parade, and the Grain Cart

Golden and crimson magical fireworks burst across the sky over the Royal Avenue of the capital of Solaris. Showers of rose petals drifted down from second-floor balconies onto the white marble streets below. Tens of thousands of citizens crowded the roadsides, cheering, clapping, and pounding shields in rhythm with the passing knight corps, the noise shaking the bustling streets to their foundations. The victorious army of the 4th Frontline Legion marched into the city to a swelling triumphant march.

Leading the parade was General Morid, mounted on an armored warhorse, chest gleaming with medals. Beside him rode Princess Eleanor in her pristine white-and-gold holy knight armor, and Astra, in her modest floral dress, riding a winged mount, the Sun-Slaying Dragon Sword cradled in her arms.

On the platform of honor before the Palace's Golden Gate, Emperor Alaric stood straight-backed alongside the entire body of Marshals and Ministers, a solid gold Supreme Sun Medal in hand, eyes scanning the approaching army with impatient anticipation. Meanwhile, at the very back of the supply convoy. Amid a dust-covered four-wheeled wagon, Lucian sat curled up between four coarse burlap sacks of flour.

He'd pulled the hood of his ash-grey cloak down over the bridge of his nose, legs crossed, breaking a butter cookie in half and taking a small bite. Ting! A Unified System v2. 0 notification appeared before him. [TEMPORARY TITLE ACTIVATED: 'LORD OF THE FLOUR SACK'] Effect: +50% ability to blend in with agricultural goods and grain shipments. System assessment: Host has achieved the pinnacle of the art of dodging social responsibility. Lucian chewed his cookie and muttered.

"Lord of what... just let the people up front take the medal and give the speeches. I'm sneaking home for a proper nap." Suddenly, from somewhere in the crowd filling the plaza, a wave of shouting erupted from thousands of adventurers and citizens at once.

"Where's the Nameless Knight?!"

"Where's the Savior in the black cloak?!"

"Where's the hero who punched through the mountain to save a hundred thousand people?!" At the front of the procession, General Morid abruptly reined in his horse. The old general pulled off his iron helmet, turned around, and pointed his arm straight toward the flour wagon trailing at the very back of the column. He tilted his face up and spoke through the magical megaphone, his voice booming. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"People of the Empire! Our supreme sage... has refused to lead this parade! He stands instead in the most sacred, humble position of all: guarding every sack of flour, protecting the lifeblood of grain for the common people!" A breathless silence fell over the avenue. Then, an instant later, a hundred thousand citizens and every row of knights spun around 180 degrees at once. They dropped to both knees on the marble, hurling tens of thousands of fresh flower bouquets and loaves of bread toward...

the dust-covered flour cart. The roar of the crowd swelled.

"Long live the Guardian of the Harvest!"

"A saint who walks among the dust of the poor!" Lucian, sitting in the cart, froze with the cookie halfway to his mouth. His eyes went wide as thousands of rose bouquets rained down straight into the wagon, burying his hair and the four sacks of flour around him. He sat perfectly still, like a statue, mouth hanging open, unable to say a word. Whoosh. A ripple of golden magical sound-transmission brushed against Lucian's eardrum. Far ahead, Eleanor turned her head slightly on horseback.

She raised a white-gloved hand to hide the corner of her mouth, curled into a bright smile, her voice carrying through the spell, dripping with teasing.

"Hide well, Major General Flour Sack. Tonight, I'll personally bring the Sun Medal straight to your bedside to award it to you." Cough! Cough! Lucian choked on a mouthful of cookie crumbs, coughing violently amid the pile of roses. The Vance family coachman sitting up front gave a subtle wink and yanked the reins, steering the cart into a quiet side alley behind the avenue while the crowd outside remained too busy kneeling and worshipping the now-empty wagon. Ten minutes later.

The flour cart pulled up in front of a small wooden gate at the service entrance behind the Vance family estate. Lucian hopped down off the wagon. He brushed the rose petals and flour dust off his cloak, smoothed back his black hair, and let out a long, deeply relieved breath.

"Finally... finally free of that whole mess out there." He pushed open the wooden gate and stepped into the back courtyard.

"Home at last. From here on out, it's just eating, sleeping, and counting money—" BOOM! The main sitting-room door burst open, violently. Sword Emperor Regulus, in his house silk robe, came sprinting across the courtyard, eyes brimming with tears, and threw his arms around the ten-year-old, lifting him off the ground, laughter shaking the whole garden.

"Son! Genius! You are truly the greatest financial deity House Vance has ever produced!" Lucian dangled in midair, blinking in confusion.

"Dad... what are you doing?" Regulus held up a gold-embossed sales report, still smelling of fresh printer's ink from Evelyn, shouting in overwhelming joy.

"Volume 3! The Quiet Home Front, that whole book of accounting figures and warehouse audits you wrote... just sold out five million copies across the entire continent, this morning alone!" Behind the door, Lady Valeria stepped out carrying a plate of warm butter cookies, smiling gently.

"Every Finance Minister in all seven kingdoms just submitted a joint request to license it as a mandatory university textbook, my little Lucian." Lucian hung suspended in his father's arms, eyes wide, staring at the five-million-copy sales report. A dried maple leaf drifted down from a branch overhead, landing softly on top of his head. Lucian let his arms go limp, slowly closing his eyes in boundless despair.

"Five million copies... of a book about inventory audits..."