Global Lords: Building the Strongest Civilization with SSS Rank Talent-Chapter 50: AURELIUS, THE GOLDEN KING

The trumpet blast faded, but the Golden King didn’t stop shining.

Aurelius floated three inches off the ground, ensuring his boots never touched the same floor as the "rabble."

Red scanned the room. The High Balcony (Ranks 11-20) was desolate. There were fifty seats up there, but forty-nine of them were empty. The High Rankers hadn’t bothered to show up. To them, a meeting with single-digit ranks was beneath their dignity.

There was only one figure on the balcony. Sylara, The Mycelium Queen (Rank 17).

She looked out of place. A humanoid figure made of bioluminescent fungal fibers, wearing a dress woven from silk-moths. She sat in the corner, looking down at the noisy hall with large, completely black eyes. She seemed shy, or perhaps just socially anxious, shrinking away from the empty seats around her.

"Pathetic," the Rotting Druid muttered near Red, looking up at her with jealousy. "She has the rank, but she has no spine."

"Quiet, moss-head," Gorr grumbled, sipping her drink. "She could turn your entire forest into a compost heap with a sneeze."

Aurelius drifted through the center of the Low Floor. The Ranks 1-5 parted like the Red Sea, terrified of his aura.

He ignored them all. He floated straight up to the High Balcony, hovering right in front of Sylara.

"My dear Queen," Aurelius crooned, his voice amplified by magic so the whole room could hear. "You look radiant. That spore-dress... does it come in Gold?"

Sylara didn’t speak. She just blinked slowly and shifted her chair a few inches away from him.

"You really must come to the Sun Spire," Aurelius pressed, flashing a blinding smile. "My priests cultivate the finest solar-orchids. They would love a... feminine touch."

Red watched from the bar. "He’s hitting on a fungus," Red whispered to Iron-Scale.

"He is loud," Iron-Scale hissed, shielding his eyes with his top hat.

Sylara finally spoke. Her voice was soft, like wind in tall grass. "The Sun burns, Aurelius. I prefer the shade."

Aurelius laughed, brushing off the rejection as if it were a compliment. "Playing hard to get. I like that."

Aurelius floated back down toward the Low Floor. He scanned the crowd of ’peasants,’ looking for someone to belittle to boost his ego he just lost.

His eyes landed on Gorr at the bar.

"Ah! The Stone Mother," Aurelius beamed, drifting over. "I haven’t seen you since the border skirmish last year."

Gorr gripped her tankard. The stone handle cracked. "Keep walking, Lantern," Gorr rumbled.

"How are the Molekins?" Aurelius asked, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. "I recall my Paladins found their tunnels quite... crushable. Did you ever dig them out? or did you just leave them buried?"

The room went dead silent. Everyone knew the history. Aurelius had annexed one of Gorr’s outer mountains and collapsed the mines, burying thousands of her followers alive.

Gorr stood up. Her chair scraped loudly against the marble. "This is a Truce Zone," Gorr growled, her rocky skin grinding. "But accidents happen in the void."

"Oh, come now," Aurelius waved a hand. "They were just moles. Rodents. You can always breed more. But I can see you still haven’t recovered from that. Your rank is so low that I feel insulted to even have to talk to you."

He turned his gaze to Red, who was standing next to Gorr.

"And who is this?" Aurelius looked Red up and down. "Sharp suit. But... Rank 3? Oh dear. Did you get lost on the way to the tutorial?"

Red sipped his water, and looked at Aurelius calm, violet eyes meeting the burning gold.

"I’m Rubedo," Red said evenly. "God of the Spiral. And no, I’m not lost. I’m just watching the show."

"The Spiral?" Aurelius chuckled. "Sounds dizzying. Try not to trip over your own ambition, little god."

WYONGGGG!

A gong sounded.

[ SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: CONCLAVE SESSION BEGINS ]

[ PROTOCOL: APEX THRONE ASSIGNMENT ]

At the very top of the hall, above the High Balcony, sat the Apex Throne. It was reserved for the Sector Administrator (Rank 50+). Since no Admin was present, the System defaulted to the highest rank in the room.

A beam of light fell on Sylara (Rank 17).

[ HIGHEST RANK DETECTED: SYLARA ]

[ PLEASE ASCEND TO THE THRONE TO PRESIDE ]

Sylara shrank back. She shook her head violently, spores drifting from her hair. "No," she whispered. "I... I do not wish to lead. I am just observing."

The System paused. [ PRESIDING DEITY DECLINED ]

[ NEXT ELIGIBLE RANK... ]

Before the System could search, Aurelius moved.

"Well," Aurelius announced, spreading his arms. "If the Queen is shy... someone must take the helm."

He flew up. Past the Low Floor. Past the Balcony, and landed on the dais of the Apex Throne.

Technically, he was only Rank 9. He had no right to sit there. But in a room of cowards and absentees, confidence was king.

He sat down. The throne was too big for him. But he leaned back, crossing his legs, looking down at the fifty gods below him like they were insects.

"I, Aurelius, The Golden King, accept the burden of leadership," he declared.

A murmur went through the crowd. "He can’t do that!" "He’s not Rank 50!" "He’s not even Rank 10!"

But no one spoke up. Because no one wanted to fight the guy with the Solar Paladins. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Aurelius smirked and tapped the armrest.

"Now then," Aurelius boomed. "Let us begin. First item on the agenda... Why are you all so incredibly mediocre?"

The Hall of the Pantheon settled whispers and murmurs. The insult stung, but these were gods of survival. They weren’t here for Aurelius’s approval. They were here for the Market.

The Nexus of Truce wasn’t just a social club. It was the only place where a God of the Tundra could trade ice for a God of the Volcano’s obsidian without starting a war.

[ AGENDA ITEM 2: RESOURCE EXCHANGE ]

[ TRADING FLOOR OPEN ]

A massive holographic ledger appeared in the center of the room. It was a stock market of divine goods.