Chapter 191: Last king

Chapter 191: Last king

Pinkman would forever remember the day he was ennobled.

Upon opening his eyes, he was surrounded by many people, each offering him a kind and envious smile, tipping their hats in respect, and praising him as a divine gift, the pride of the heavens.

Pinkman was recognized as the next king.

For he possessed the noble pink bloodline, a chosen one seen only once in centuries in the Rose Kingdom. He inherited the exclusive name associated with the pink bloodline, known as Pinkman the Third.

In the Rose Kingdom, the king and queen were always one human and one Rose Envoy, together maintaining the kingdom’s operations and order.

The current king was Reed XV, with a human wife as his queen. Under their joint rule, roses thrived and the people lived in peace and happiness. The kingdom’s territory spanned nearly half the continent, an achievement unprecedented by any previous monarch.

People looked forward to the day when under Pinkman the Third’s leadership, the Rose Kingdom would reach new heights of glory, with roses spreading across the entire land. On that day, witches of the wilds and monsters alike would have to abide by the kingdom’s laws.

The mere thought of such prosperity was enough to stir excitement.

Every time they saw the crown prince, the people were extremely enthusiastic.

But Pinkman was troubled.

He knew he was neither skilled nor fond of governing a nation; he disliked disciplining others and hated punishing them. He simply wished to tend to his roses in solitude.

Pinkman had a very smart dog named Bark-Bark, which could always detect sick roses or insect invasions, alerting him with its barks.

Each day, he walked his dog, tended to the garden’s roses, enjoyed the forest breeze, crossed streams, lay in the grass basking in the sun, and thus the days slowly passed.

This leisurely life did not last long.

At the age of twenty-five, Pinkman was informed that the old king had decided to abdicate and that he would rule the nation. It wasn’t that the king was too old, but rather he believed Pinkman would bring a different future to the kingdom.

The old king said, "When I was your age, I was dueling with my father, Reed XIV. Do you know why?"

Pinkman admitted he did not.

"For a witch."

"She possessed beauty and wisdom, with an irresistible charm."

The old king stroked his red hair, a nostalgic look on his face: "I was too young then to understand that the more perfect something is, the more it should be admired from afar, not possessed."

Pinkman suddenly thought of the scarlet rumors in the court and asked, "Are you speaking of Miss Isabella Seroli, the witch?"

He had seen her portrait on the palace walls, where the court wizards were displayed. The woman in the painting was elegant and serene, indeed a beauty. But she had left the court over a hundred years ago, without a trace.

"Yes, Miss Seroli..."

A wistful expression crossed the old king’s face.

"Not just I, but also my father and mother, greatly admired Miss Seroli. Of course, that wasn’t a problem. It’s human nature to love beauty, and everyone competed fairly."

Pinkman saw no issue with this either.

For a Rose Envoy, love was an open and generous emotion. Falling for a person or a flower was all natural.

The only restriction was that Rose Envoys could not intermarry.

Once Rose Envoys united, there was a high chance of producing the troublesome black bloodline.

Black Rose Envoys were born with a desire for destruction, their personalities wild and fierce. Upon birth, they would hunt other Rose Envoys.

This was for the continuation of the species and the peace of the world.

Thus, the next generation of Rose Envoys either emerged naturally from roses or resulted from the union of a Rose Envoy and a human.

Pinkman was born naturally from a rose, and as a rare and noble pink bloodline, he was deemed a blessing from the gods.

***

Pinkman knew he was not decisive or brave enough, certainly not a wise ruler.

Old King Reed XV had said there was no need to worry; doing nothing at all already made him more competent than many past kings.

During peaceful times, this was indeed true.

In the history of the Rose Kingdom, there were many ambitious kings and queens who made all sorts of crazy decisions: feeding roses with fresh blood, arranging marriages between Rose Envoys and monsters, even cultivating special Black Rose Envoys for expansion...

Most of these policies plunged the nation into severe turmoil, with endless internal strife and the kingdom nearly falling apart several times.

By doing nothing, Pinkman had already surpassed half of the former kings.

But when the world underwent unprecedented changes and even the gods were falling, he became anxious and unsure of what to do. His mind was muddled, pushed around by ministers and wizards.

When he opened his eyes again, the world outside was a brand new one.

The darkness had dissipated, and the long-lost sunlight shone upon him, making Pinkman’s breathing easier.

The mysterious witch who had been missing for years, Miss Isabella Seroli, floated before him on a magic wand, like another dream hard to distinguish from reality.

"The Rose Kingdom has perished..."

She narrated the changes in the world.

Pinkman’s tangled thoughts finally became clear.

He remembered the unease from before, stemming from the queen’s tight grip on the children and the smiles of the ministers and court wizards.

Because of "Eternal Love," he had a connection with the queen and children, but now his heart was empty; they had completely vanished.

The world was in turmoil, dark creatures rampaged, and there was neither the material nor time to make extra immortal coffins.

They only wanted to preserve the king.

As the last bloodline of the Rose Kingdom, he was the sole remaining spark to enter the depths of the earth.

This was everyone’s hope in the darkness, and the last dignity and decency of the Rose Kingdom.

...

Before he closed his eyes, the kingdom was on the brink of destruction, everyone trembling and despairing under the dark god’s might, each person struggling on the edge of death.

When he opened his eyes, the earth was reborn, God Yao had repaired the world, the sky and sea were revitalized, but everything of the kingdom had vanished like smoke.

Strange gods, a strange world, strange lands.

Loved ones and friends had all gone with the wind.

Only he remained, a lonely, deposed king, like a child who had walked into the wrong house, with no way home behind him.

Pinkman dearly hoped this was another long dream.

Upon waking, the queen would be combing her hair at the dressing table, the children chattering at the door, the big dog Bark-Bark wagging its tail, waiting for its master to take it out, and the rose garden outside the window still dazzling under the sun.

If only it were so.

...

Pinkman could no longer find the meaning of his existence.

He lifted his head, gazing at the sky with bewildered eyes, praying for the gods to grant him an answer.