The Empire of Valtheria

Joseph stood at the balcony of his newly claimed palace, gazing at the vast lands that now fell under his rule. The once-proud Kingdom of Solmara had crumbled under his might, and now, it was time to forge something new—something greater.

"The Empire of Valtheria."

The name rolled off his tongue like a declaration of fate itself. It was fitting. A new empire needed a name that would be remembered for generations.

The Coronation and Marriage

The grand hall of the palace was filled with nobility, commanders, and loyal subjects. The banners of both Mythrendel and Solmara had been replaced with the sigil of Valtheria—a phoenix rising from flames, symbolizing rebirth and domination.

Elyndra stood beside Joseph, her eyes unwavering, as if she had always known this moment would come. Isabelle, the former princess of Solmara, was beside her, dressed in royal attire, her expression unreadable. Both had chosen to stand with him, and tonight, they would officially be his queens.

The ceremony was grand, though Joseph barely paid attention to the formalities. He was more focused on the weight of the crown that was placed on his head. Heavy, but not unbearable.

"Long live Emperor Valtherion!" the crowd roared as he raised his hand. Yes, Joseph no longer fit him. He had outgrown that name. Now, he was Valtherion, the ruler of an empire.

As the celebrations continued, Joseph—no, Valtherion—took turns dancing with Elyndra and Isabelle, much to the amusement of his generals. The air was festive, filled with music and laughter. It was a moment of peace after the storm.

Later that night, after the feast, Elyndra leaned into him with a smirk. "You do realize this means more responsibilities, right?"

Valtherion groaned, slumping back onto his throne. "Can't I just fight wars and leave the paperwork to someone else?"

Isabelle chuckled, sipping her wine. "Unfortunately, that's not how ruling works, dear husband."

Stabilizing the Empire

The following weeks were filled with endless meetings. Trade routes, economic reforms, noble alliances—it was a constant storm of bureaucracy.

Valtherion had assigned capable ministers to handle most of the grunt work, but he still had to oversee everything. Elyndra, now officially Empress, managed internal affairs, while Isabelle handled diplomacy, especially with the remaining nobles of Solmara.

There were still murmurs of resistance, but nothing immediate. The sheer display of power during the war had sent a clear message—defiance meant death. However, rather than rule through fear alone, Valtherion made calculated decisions to win the hearts of the people. He restructured the army, ensuring fair treatment for both Mythrendel and Solmara's soldiers. Taxes were adjusted to stabilize the economy, and laws were rewritten to promote unity.

It was exhausting work. But every time he saw the people bowing with admiration instead of fear, it felt worth it.

The Escaped Prince

One evening, while going through reports, a general entered his chamber with a grim expression. "Your Majesty, we have confirmed that Prince Darius of Solmara has escaped the city."

Valtherion smirked, setting down his quill. "And? Are you expecting me to order a manhunt?"

The general hesitated. "Shall we pursue him?"

He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne. Then, with a low chuckle, he shook his head. "No need. Let him run, let him rebuild in the shadows. It makes no difference."

The room was silent as everyone waited for him to explain.

Valtherion's smirk widened. "We'll meet again. And when we do, he will realize that no amount of running can change the inevitable."

The general nodded and left to deliver his orders. Valtherion stared out the window, feeling a strange sense of amusement. He almost hoped the prince would come back stronger. After all, what fun was ruling without a little challenge?

Winning Over Solmara

At first, Solmara's people were wary of their new ruler. They had expected a tyrant, a conqueror who would crush them under his heel. Instead, they saw something different.

Valtherion didn't impose absurd taxes. He didn't enslave their people. He reformed their systems, improved their military, and even ensured food distribution for the struggling lower class. He gave them something their former king never did—stability.

Slowly, fear turned into curiosity, and curiosity turned into respect. The people of Solmara began to see him not as a monster, but as a leader. Soldiers who once swore loyalty to the fallen kingdom now pledged their swords to the Empire of Valtheria.

New Alliances and the Future

With the empire stabilized, Valtherion turned his eyes toward expansion. There were other kingdoms, other lands ripe for the taking. But for now, he would enjoy what he had built.

His harem continued to grow—beastkin from the western tribes, an elven emissary from the north. Each new alliance brought more power, more influence, and of course, more chaos in his personal life.

One night, as he stood atop the palace walls, Elyndra joined him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You're thinking about the future again," she murmured.

Valtherion smirked. "Always."

She sighed. "You should rest. You've already conquered two kingdoms."

"Exactly," he said, his eyes glowing with anticipation. "And there are so many more out there."

The flames of ambition burned bright in his eyes. This was just the beginning.