Imperial Journalism [Journo POV]

The Goldbelt Journal was a newspaper that had formed just a month ago. It was a consolidation effort of several journalists who had seen the light of the Lady. After having split from their previous organizations, if they had any, they had come together as one of the few newspapers that were critical of their new emperor.

Comley liked to believe they were fair in their criticism of John Newman. There were a few genuine hate rags aimed at the Gamer, painting everything the man did in a negative light. The Goldbelt Journal was not going to spin stories out of nothing and they were happy to give praise where it was due. They were equally happy to step in where most current journalists failed to deliver. Praise of John Newman sold better than the opposite.

Comley did not have to guess why. It was a time of optimism in Fusion. His clientele were people that had seen the middle of the country get uplifted from the rule of roaming gangs of slavers by the Order, to then be peacefully transferred to the stable rule of Fusion. That was already a foundation for people who wanted to see the improvements in their situation be reflected in the rest of the realm. After the Lorylim War, anything that wasn’t total collapse felt like good news. Those that could sell the Gamer’s actions as consistently benevolent sold the best.

The people read what they wanted to read. It was the journalist’s job to provide what information was of interest to the readers. Shaping of public opinion was partially within their portfolio, but not what paid the bills.

The Goldbelt Journal wore its agenda on its sleeve: increase the power of the Order within governance, spread the good word, and advocate for a moral culture. When the Gamer fell short of the expectations of his people, he ought to know about it.

Whether or not he had in this instance, Comley would find out soon enough.

Despite the freshness and critical stance of the Goldbelt Journal, it had been invited to this press event. Facing his political opposition seriously and frequently was one of John Newman’s virtues. That he still did not have a proper press chamber was not. The conference was held on the lawn on top of the star fort with only a steel-frame tent around them. Their seats were foldable chairs, arranged in five rows in front of a basic stage. Sitting there, Comley could see the various cables and naked beams, but the cameras around would only pick up the decorated podium and the Fusion logo behind it.

John Newman approached the podium. With him were Momo, Rave and Moira – the latter was an interesting choice. The chancellor was practically always with him during political events and the first empress was seen frequently enough. That the blessed Shield Warden was also there could be a sign of new developments. She had not been part of the harem long enough to say certainly how openly she wanted to wear her new political influence.

Comley made an approving note in his book. Though her decision to become part of the Imperial Choir was… conflicting with the values of the Order at large, within that sinful living this was a virtuous decision.

The little whispers in the room died down as John raised a hand. Once it was silent, he began his speech.

“I killed Veridion,” he began with the admission. “I want to lead with this fact so that none may misunderstand me. Though I find it regretful that it had to come to that, I do not feel an ounce of shame nor guilt for it. Now, I know that among those present, those watching from your homes in Fusion and those powers abroad, several questions will arise. My character is not flawless, I understand that I deserve scrutiny, and so here is how I ended up killing the god of oaths.”

Comley tapped his old-fashioned notebook with the back of his pen. ‘This better be good,’ he thought. ‘Dragging us into a conflict with the Concord is the last thing Fusion needs right now.’

“As per the agreement struck with the Divided Gates and partially overseen by the Concord, Fusion had claim to the borders of the mundane USA – which, of course, includes Hawaii. I ventured there with a selection of my women to assert that claim, diplomatically if at all possible. Since we did not manage to contact any locals by electronic means, we scouted the islands out physically. We came across Veridion nearly immediately. He insisted that he was there not as part of the Concord but as a friend of the locals.”

‘Interesting…’ Comley scribbled the words ‘Concord breaking own rules?’ into his notebook. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Veridion then struck one of my women.”

‘Emperor Newman overreacts?’ Comley wrote those words down next. When it came to his partners, the man was legendarily protective. To say he was overprotective would have done him a disservice, after all his women regularly fought in their wars and no scandal about any of them being sheltered from social life had broken so far. Still, John was one to surrender safety for his people if it meant vengeance for one of his women. As one of said people, Comley had opinions about that.

“He retreated, presenting us with a challenge afterwards. The locals have a series of trials to determine whether someone is worthy to rule or not. As I aim to respect those whose lands I conquer, I agreed to take on these trials.”

That was indeed within his character, so Comley had no questions to that end.

“We ended up passing the series of trials. At the end of the final trial, the woman that had been struck decided to repay Veridion properly. Combat ensued, during which all of Veridion’s private forces and the god himself were vanquished. As Kael, the god of vengeance from the Concord, can testify, Veridion swore to destroy Nathalia during the battle. I was left with practically no choice but to kill him to assure the safety of my women in perpetuity.”

Comley sucked on his gums, then his mouth opened with a wet smack. He was hardly convinced by that statement. God of oaths he may have been, but certainly Veridion was not so bound to his own word that he would have hunted Nathalia to the ends of the earth? If he had been locked in like that, certainly a public trial could have been held to determine this fact?

“You may now present me with your questions,” the Gamer invited. “Remember to be cordial. If I hear you shouting over each other, I am going to have every single troublemaker escorted out. Yes, you there?”

Comley was somewhat surprised when he was immediately pointed at. “Comley with the Goldbelt Journal, I-“

“I have read your publication, you are harsh but fair on my actions,” the Gamer complimented.

“You flatter me, my emperor,” the journalist responded in a neutral tone. He did not want the sovereign’s charisma to soften the blow of his question, so he focused his eyes on his notebook as he spoke. “It sounds to me like you have overreacted – was there truly nothing else that Veridion did?”

“Throughout the trials, there were various other jabs and comments that individually meant very little but combined painted a clear picture of hostility.” The Gamer retained a relaxed stance, not dismissive but not serious either. “I did not and do not want the problems that come with killing Veridion, but he struck one of my women, hindered a sanctioned expansion of Fusion’s borders, and stated he did so as an independent agent, despite clearly being there as part of the Concord’s policy to obstruct me. If that is understood as me overreacting, then I will suffer that label.”

Comley gave a curt nod, then sat down. Though he had more questions, the procedure was clear. He kept an ear on the rest of the event, as any good journalist should.

“Cindy with the CPDI,” the catgirl whore spoke, making Comley roll his eyes. “Which of your women was struck?”

“A new member of my harem named Layla Viorica.”

Comley rolled his eyes again, harder that time. He immediately noted down the secondary headline for tomorrow: ‘Gamer harem expands yet again! When will our lecherous emperor stop?’

“A follow-up question, then – your women are rather sturdy, broadly speaking. Is a single strike really worth retaliating with death over?”

Little as Comley liked that pornstars were around to ask questions, he did have to admit the ones usually around had worthwhile questions to ask.

“He struck one of my women, what did he expect would happen?” John countered with a question of his own. “To the point, however: Layla was not sturdy at the time. She is yet to benefit from the large increase in power that being one of mine comes with. He struck her with his heel, knocking several of her teeth out. Healing magic was thankfully able to fix that, but hopefully that puts my reaction into a bit more of a perspective.”

‘It does,’ Comley thought, make more notes.

“Kluxog with the Mantis Channel,” an insectoid journalist introduced himself. “I am not entirely clear yet on the events directly leading up to Veridion’s death. You said the final trial concluded, then the woman he fought – Layla – continued to fight him, is that correct?”

“That is correct.”

“So Layla – and you by extension – continued violence when there was no more need for it?”

“A question of perspective.” The lead-up to the Gamer’s response reeked of a cop-out answer. “Veridion did indeed surrender in the trial, having been overwhelmed by a clever manoeuvre of my woman after torturing her with his divine strength. That we then pushed on to bring him to justice was entirely informed by his pattern of behaviour. At best, he would have left to scheme to hurt or kill my women another day. At worst, if he had won, I have no doubt he would have killed Layla before forcing me to leave. You can trust my judgement on this: Veridion needed to die for mine to be safe. The choice was therefore an easy one.”

The brown eyes of their sovereign practically glowed with conviction. All the same, Comley wrote down ‘execution of a Concord member’. He was not blind to the difficulties of decisions on the ground, but neither could Comley entirely take John’s word for it. If he wanted to write a neutral article, then he had to take into account the angle that the Gamer had simply executed an enemy because he had been given the chance to.

A couple of further clarifying questions were asked by several members of the crowd. They each helped paint a little clearer picture of why the Gamer had chosen to do it, but without the opposite side of the story, they all sounded intensely convenient. Comley would take a trip to Hawaii to try to ask those involved for their input.

“Worlina with SSSN,” another one of the pornstars spoke up. “What is the imperial house’s stance on the Concord of War going forward?”

Comley and every other journalist in the room leaned forwards. That was a big question – a really big question.

“That remains to be seen,” the Gamer responded. “Fundamentally, I see the utility in the Concord of War. However, I do not believe in the neutrality of the current members of it. Fusion has been a force of good in the world and we are being held back purely on the basis of our success. If their love for the status quo makes them stand in the way of us bringing prosperity to more areas that my women and I care about, then the Concord is simply an enemy guild. I hope they will see that I acted in accordance with justice on the matter of Veridion and will stop their petty crusade against me. If they do so, we can still work something out.”

A very self-serving answer, though also the expected one. Comley would have been surprised if the Concord’s response was meaningfully different in tone. Which meant that Fusion was now in a cold or even hot war with the overseeing organization of global martial conduct.

Comley was not enthused.

Questions continued on. In due time, questions on Veridion and the Concord became repetitive. They were drilling for oil in a tapped well and so the journalists switched to other topics.

“There have been recent breakthroughs on Delicia’s quest to create permanent personal mutagens,” a science journalist began. “Though they are currently only working for up to one month, we are at a stage where several of our readers are wondering what would happen if two people affected by these mutagens had a child. Would the child be a true, permanently changed individual?”

“To the best of my knowledge, Delicia’s mutagens work as an attachment to the person’s genes, not as a rewriting of them,” John answered. “So, even if they were two who had taken a theoretically perfect, permanent mutagen, the sperm and ovum produced would still be human at base. Therefore, the child should always be human.”

Comley didn’t even bother writing that down, his readers wouldn’t care.

“Emperor Newman, do you truly seek world domination, as the people say?”

“…What people say that?” John groaned. “No, I do not seek world domination. As far as my personal territorial ambitions go, with Hawaii now added to the guilds of the imperial territory, I am satisfied. There are areas of the world that my women have very solid claims to, but I will assure that such claims are pressed only with the agreement of the locals. Beyond that, I have no interest in conquest. My pride is sated.”

‘Not sure if I believe that,’ Comley thought. He rose from his seat when the conference started to devolve into silly questions. He had more than enough material to write an article with what he had heard already.

How justified had John been in his decision to execute Veridion? Impossible to say. The god of oath’s reputation was not the best, but by the Gamer’s own admission, he had surrendered before getting struck again. The situation was not simple and the outcome was that there was no stopping the Concord from viewing Fusion as the enemy now.

It was regrettable that the globe had no unity after facing the Lorylim together. Comley would write an opinion-piece to that end, but he also knew that global unity was a pipedream. Too many interests were pulling in too many directions. Everything was complicated and their emperor was a man who liked to be relevant.

That was just reality.