Enlightened Empire: 120-257
Author: SociableHermit
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

120 Surrounded

If nothing else, at least the food was delicious. Pork, veal and venison, braised in a fancy sauce. According to what the king's servant said, the food had been stewed for half a day before it had been presented to the guests. No wonder the pieces melted in Uchu's mouth. Even so, the Villca heir was in a lousy mood.

Their entire plan had been so clever, so simple. He would come announce his claim to the throne as a member of the Villca clan. Once the king would acknowledge his invitation, he would be acknowledged as a proper noble by the only authority in the south who could do so. At that point, he would be in the running for his father's lands, and so all he had to do was leave as soon as possible. However, no matter how much he wanted to, his newest advisor had different ideas.

"I still don't get why I couldn't have just run," Uchu moaned towards the rat. Although his little brother had only entered Uchu's camp two days ago, the two of them had planned today's actions a long time ago. However, they hadn't expected the king's indifference. In response to his big brother's complaint, the rat, Guachimine Villca, presented his overbite as his upper lip drew back in a show of disgust.

"For the millionth time, we cannot ignore the rules of nobility, brother. Even if you were the strongest man in the south-"

"-and I am," Uchu smirked and threw another cube of soft meat into his mouth.

"-Cashan won't stand for long if we antagonize all other lords." Guachimine covered his eyes with his hand.

"But I thought I was supposed to piss off the lords? Wasn't that the plan?" In all truth, Uchu had been annoyed by the little rat's machinations for a good while already. Now that he couldn't even understand the plan anymore, his discontent had only built up more.

"Offending the king would be fine, offending the governor would be even better," the rat snickered. "But breaking the rules of nobility cannot and will not be accepted. By anyone. Just imagine, what will the lords of the east think when we break any rules we see fit. Once you take Cashan, we want to control them. How will we achieve our goals if they are weary of our willful ignorance of common custom?"

"So we're stuck here now," Uchu concluded. With a scowl and a swerve, he picked up the fancy glass on his table to have another taste of the equally fancy drink within. Meanwhile, Guachimine had begun to bite his fingernails again, so the older brother chose to look away.

"The plan was not meant to go this way," the younger brother's voice trembled. "We sent the king a head as a present. A damned head! How can he just take this sort of insult and let us stay? Damn bastard. If the king had only thrown us out, we could have just left and gone home. Even if he had rejected the present, we could have at least made it our alive. Sure we would offend the western lords, but we don't need to care about them anyways. This way, we don't leave ourselves vulnerable, and we can even get some extra favor from the eastern estates for standing up to this so-called King of the South and his loyal dogs."

"'Not vulnerable'? Was that the goal? I didn't notice. Great plan you had there, brother. Really well done."

With a nervous hum, the rat stared out into the hall, to the other side of the room, where their brother Epunamo sat, constant watch kept on their table. Even after the failed duel, Uchu's competitor wouldn't let up at all.

Like a mangy dog, Uchu thought.

"You didn't need to accept the duel, brother." This time, it was the rat who broke the silence. Despite how he appeared, Guachimine had proven to be a brave man, eager to speak his mind.

"So what should I have done then? Run away and be seen as a coward?"

"At least you could have determined the rules of the battle before and not just accepted brother Epu's demands. The way you handled it, at least no one thought you were a coward. They just thought you were an idiot," the rat shot back.

In response, Uchu only had a scoff to offer.

"How could I know that my little brother would bring out those weird weapons? Weren't all you nobles so big on rules and honor? Who would expect anything but a proper fight? You think Epunamo could beat me in one of those, ever? Just look at the scrawny bastard."

"No matter what you say, your actions were foolish, brother. Epunamo Villca is no idiot, I told you as much before we came here. In fact, among all of us he is the most well-learned. He also thinks much of his own cleverness, so he would never move without a plan. No matter how angry he seemed, it was obvious that he would present a ploy to destroy us as soon as he offered the duel. I told that as well."

For a while, silence fell over the room, only interspersed with occasional sips whenever Uchu took another chance at his brandy. While the strong liquor soothed his heart as much as it did his pride, he thought back to the massive boom and the giant ball of steel lodged in the wall. No matter how much this king talked about a misfire, Uchu knew that he had almost been taken out by his brother's plot. Although it wasn't the first time he had been confronted by his own mortality, this really wasn't a good way to start his fight for his father's lands. His impatience drawn to the limit, Uchu was the first to break again.

"So when can we leave then? The sooner we go the better. I'd rather not see a castle wall fall on my head because of an unfortunate mistake from the king's stonemason."

"It is proper for you to worry, brother. We should be worried, truly. However, now that the king has accepted our gift, we will have to spend some more time here. We cannot leave until the king has come to our table for his return visit."

"So it'll just be another eternity then. Fantastic."

With clenched jaws, Uchu stared over to King Corco, who took great care with each and every one of his guests. Every time he stepped up to a new table, the King of the South would spend as much time with his guests as they would allow. They would exchange drinks and toasts, tell stories and sing songs together. Of course the king would be eager to expand his influence within the south, but to an already tense Uchu, it looked like the bastard was stalling to torture him, nothing more.

"These are the rules, and we have to follow them like everyone else. If you become known as a rule breaker, no one in the east will listen to a word you say, no matter how much strength you think you have. The old lords are stubborn, they can only handle so much excitement at once. Also," Guachimine shot a frown at Uchu's hand, and the glass he still grasped within it, "if you are worried about more assassinations, maybe it is time to abstain from the king's drinks, poured by the king's servants. The swill will only muddy your mind, and we can never know what manner of ingredient the king's servants have added to your glass."

Rather than agreement, another scoff shot back at Guachimine, despite his best intentions.

"Nonsense. If there's one thing that's not gonna happen, it's poison in the drinks. That's bad business, and bad business is something the servants will avoid like the plague. Just look at that king of theirs, and the way he acts."

Dismissive, Uchu jerked his head over to the man who was still taking his sweet time as he catered to every lord under the stars. At this point, the king spoke in an animated manner, while he presented a strange metal box to the lords, his face filled with pride as he spoke. Although Uchu couldn't hear Corco's words, the king's intentions weren't hidden from the bandit.

"I have seen people like this before. That's just the way the merchants would act in the local markets, when they sell their cheap wares to gullible fools. No man like that would poison his own product and lower its value."

At first Guachimine only blinked back at Uchu's words. The revelation must have surprised the little rat. Of course it would. Uchu was sure that as a lord's son, the rat had never even seen a merchant from up close, let alone talked with any of them. Even so, his little brother's face scrunched up into a frown when he turned just in time to see the king press a glass bottle with another one of Saniya's products into the hands of a lord, one unwilling to accept the king's good graces no less.

"No matter what happens, brother: Do not speak this out loud. Not until we have left Saniya. This knowledge is a weapon we can use, but not now. For the moment, we will need to lower our heads and weather the storm. I am not only worried about Epu either. If what our brother said about father's death is true, that king is just as dangerous as Epunamo."

As Uchu kept watch on the new king, his eyes narrowed into slits. Although Epunamo had tried to kill him, it was still something he could accept. As a bandit himself, he wasn't really opposed to underhanded methods either, so he didn't mind how his brother had broken with all the honor crap. Of course, that didn't mean that he wouldn't hold it against the coddled brat.

However, the king's sins were of an entirely different kind. If King Corco was behind his father's death, a chance to kill him would be more than enough reason to cooperate even with the devil. All this time, Uchu had hoped that he would be the one to give the final blow to his vile and foppish father. No one was allowed to take that honor from him.

"So how long then? That king sure is taking his sweet time." Even though Uchu asked for the third time, his brother still answered the same.

"No matter how long, we will have to stay. Even if we are the last table visited, our salvation is near, so to say. There are only three tables left besides ours. Where else could the king go at that point?"

Just as Guachimine gave his brother some hope, Corco was ready to smash it out of his hands. While the king was once again busy with his metal toy, a woman stepped up behind him and whispered into his ear. With a nod of acknowledgment, the king excused himself from the party and freed them of his incessant sales pitch. Then he turned, and left the venue without another word.

"Damn it all!" Thrown away with all the force of an angry cultivator, the precious glass splintered in the corner, to accentuate the king's exit. However, despite his loud actions, not one of the southern lords so much as glanced at the pariah. Only Epunamo still had his eyes trained on him, unblinking and with a permanent scowl stuck on his darkened face. For a while there was silence in their little corner once more, as Uchu steadied his mood and the rat made himself invisible.

"This can't go on. We have to do something," a brooding Uchu said at last.

"Do something? What can we do, brother?" Guachimine had begun to gnaw on his claws again.

"Give me a piece of paper and one of those quills that king has been handing out. It's time to make some arrangements for later."

"Brother, I understand if you do not wish to tell me your plans, however..." Always the noble, the rat played politician once again. However, Uchu had no interest in games right now. Keeping too many secrets from his little brother would be bad for his health anyways.

"I'll have you send this over to Epunamo once I'm done," Uchu said, while he scribbled his peace offering onto the paper. "It's time to have a little family talk."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

121 Power Struggle

Only a short while after Corco had left the familiar comfort of his own sales pitches, he had shifted gears. Gone was the merchant prince, arisen had the King of the South. From his elevated seat, the king looked down to the man who had requested this private audience. Normally, any interruption in the banquet's formalities would be impossible. However, Corco would make an exception this time. After all, the man who sat before him was his cousin, and someone whose support would be invaluable.

"Thank you for meeting me here, King Corco," Mayu started. All the while, he sat in front of his cousin, unasked. Even though he was already seated, Corco still pointed towards the seat out of habit, before he began to observe the new Governor of the South from across his desk.

Rather than the noisy banquet hall, they had met in this private room meant for discussions. Around them, the windowless walls were decorated with nothing but a few loose-hanging drapes, as well as a privacy screen in the corner. The short partition made of carved cherry wood divided the room into a more casual seating area with low tables and lounges, as well as two chairs with a desk between them. For today's meeting with his cousin, Corco had chosen to sit on the latter. This wouldn't be a casual chat between family members.

"I hope I did not disturb your day, King Corco." Mayu smiled an unreadable smile. "I am sure you have had enough disturbances for today."

"So what is it you want here, Mayu?" Corco asked in a terse voice. Rather than sit here and exchange pleasantries, he would love to be out in the hall and make some more trade deals with the southern lords.

"Aah, I simply wished to meet in private," Mayu replied, somewhat too fast and too eager. "House Saqartu wishes to apologize for the rudeness towards King Corco back in Puscanacra, some two seasons ago. Back then, my father had only just passed on, which explains this lord's inadequacies. I hope it will not change the relationship between Puscanacra and the imperial family."

Instead of a straight-up answer, Corco sat there and tapped his lip. The gears in his head turned hard and fast, while he tried his best to understand his cousin's motives for his detached attempts at reconciliation.

"I don't represent the imperial family, only myself. It's not houses, or cities, that have relationships. It's people. You understand that, right?"

"Of course, King Corco," Mayu answered, still unclear about his cousin's meaning, as far as Corco could tell. "That is why I am here, to make sure that there is no deeper discomfort between the houses. Thus, this lord wishes to apologize."

"Yeah, so you said." With a sigh, the king picked up the bronze crown before him and began to roll it around on his desk. "You said it a few seconds ago, you said it when I visited your table earlier tonight and you said the exact same thing when you arrived in Saniya this morning. You've apologized enough. It's not like anyone's forcing you."

"My uncle would disagree, King Corco." At last, Mayu's expression showed more than complete indifference as his lips curled downward in annoyance.

"Lord Ogulno won't care if you keep apologizing, not to this extent. I'm sure the only reason he's even acted like a stern teacher during your first apology was because he's been asked to do so by your mother or our grandfather."

Again Mayu had returned to his calm expression. Without anything to work with, Corco continued on his own.

"I mean, the guy has already done his duty and he'd be damned if he ever does anything more than the required minimum to coast through life."

"Careful, King Corco. This lord will not accept any slander of his family members." Again, Mayu showed emotion, though Corco was sure that it was nothing more than fabricated.

"Urgh." Since Mayu seemed not interested in any serious discussion, Corco's real feelings managed to slip from his mouth.

*Might as well,* he thought, and put his crown back on his head.

"You know, Governor Mayu, before I went into this room, I actually had some fun for the first time today. I could enjoy myself, meet some interesting people, have a drink together, have a laugh together. If you don't tell me what you're doing here right now, then you might want to excuse me if I'd rather go back to that instead of listening to your passive-aggressive attempts at stalling."

"King Corco intends to do more than simply drink with the lords, is that not the case?"

Intrigued, the king, already half out of his chair, sat back down.

"And what makes you think that?" he asked. In response, Mayu raised a finger.

"First of all, even back in Arguna, King Corco would not spend much time on other lords. Why would king do so now?"

"But back then, I had to worry about succession and about my father's killers. So of course I wouldn't have time to fool around," Corco held against.

"There is no reason to keep secrets, King Corco. We are allies after all. We will have to get along if we wish to keep the south peaceful. I have heard about King's plans for the north-east of Medala: A large trade-network, centered on Porcero, to connect the estates and bring about peace. What an ambitious goal."

Despite the brat's cocky smile, Corco wasn't in the least bit impressed with his cousin's deduction. At this point, he and his people were well into the implementation of their plans. Rather, Corco would have been surprised if the Governor of the South hadn't known about their plans. So, without an attempt at denial, Corco looked back at Mayu and waited for the young lord to continue.

"Thus, I believe King Corco attempts to do the very same thing here, in the south. Only on a much grander scale."

"And what makes you believe that, Governor Mayu?" the king asked back, as a calm smile crept onto his face.

"To any careful observer, King Corco's goals are obvious. All evening King Corco has spent with the southern lords, to praise the new goods produced or traded in Saniya. Clear glass, mechanical clocks, porcelain, brandy, soap, perfume... not to mention the fertilizer which has produced such an unnatural amount of food, as well as those new cannons every lord received an impressive demonstration of earlier today."

"An unfortunate misfire," Corco corrected, to minimal effect.

"No wonder King Corco has allowed the commoners onto the river islands. This way, secrets are far easier to protect." Mayu allowed himself another fake smile. "Since the duel between the Villcas, King Corco has gone around, quite the diligent host. Every lord that King has met with has been asked for goods from his estate. Lumber from the upstream Mayura, amber and whales from the southern coastal regions, livestock of all kinds from the rural lowlands, copper from Kapra. All kinds of raw materials, to move through the river streams, back to Saniya, to be turned into products, which will then once again be sold to the other lords. In this way, all paths will lead here, to Saniya, to make it the center of political power in the south. Is this the grand plan the king has created, to hold the south under his thumb?"

"You were listening in on my talks?" Still nonplussed and his voice still flat, Corco raised a single eyebrow together with his question.

"We are at a noble banquet. Any lord who fails to spy on the host failed to do his duty," Mayu replied, just as calm. "Since King Corco intends to connect the southern estates, would King not also need to find support from the east? The lords around Cashan hold many valuable products as well, not least of which is iron ore. Not to mention, the path through Cashan and Port Ulta is the only way to connect King Corco's operations in Porcero with the plans here."

Once Mayu's speech was finished, he sank back into his seat, though his back was still straight as a rod. Meanwhile, Corco was still slumped back, his cheek now in his hand.

"Okay, so where are you going with all of this, Lord Saqartu? Are you just here to impress me with how clever you are?" Annoyed by his cousin's inaction, Corco tried to cut to the chase.

"Oh no, this lord's concern is simple. Although all of Sachay's south-west has been incorporated in this plan, one spot is conspicuously absent." He looked back behind Corco, to the rough map of Medala which had been stitched into the drapes. "Somehow, in all of tonight's plans, my table was the only one king did not attempt to strike an agreement with. This lord wonders what he has done wrong. After all, Puscanacra has spared no effort to support Saniya with food and lumber over the past season. Not to mention, a cooperation between Puscanacra and Saniya would greatly increase the cohesion within Sachay, something of great value in trying times such as these. With the erratic actions of the Villca heirs in full view, King will need any help he can get."

His arms folded, Lord Saqartu allowed himself another smile, while he waited for the king to beg for his further support.

"So that's it, huh? You're just worried about your power, and your share."

For the slightest bit, Mayu's lip trembled, but he still held his confident expression.

"Ahaha, not at all. This lord simply wonders if Puscanacra has slighted Saniya in any way. After all, we should be considered good allies, should we not?" Even now, Mayu still held onto his unreasonably formal choice of words. To match his opposite, Corco's words had gotten drier and drier, as he could feel the muscles harden around his mouth.

"We are allies. Saniya and Puscanacra, that is. After all, when we received help from Puscanacra, we didn't deal with you. You aren't even aware that we didn't only negotiate short-term help. In the process of our plea, we also established an exchange of letters with my grandfather, Elder Cauac Saqartu. Over the past seasons, we have made a good number of these agreements you want so much. These include preferential treatment on food, fertilizer and tariffs, among other things. Since both of our people have been so close for so long, I didn't think it was necessary to inform Lord Saqartu of these trivialities."

Stunned, Mayu stared back into Corco's unreadable smile. For a good while the two cousins held their positions, but their roles seemed clearly defined. While the king was still immovable like a statue, Mayu's grin began to melt away. Although his cousin did his best to hide his emotions, the young lord fidgeted around on that chair of his, just enough to make his nervous state clear. Corco hadn't worked as a 'great seer' for nothing. Reading people was a strength he had acquired through long training. Only seconds later, the king's cousin finally cracked, and saved his land and status in the process.

"King Corco," he said, his voice much deeper than before, "there is one more issue which needs to be cleared. In fact, it is a problem only I alone can help with."

"Oh, and what would that be, Lord Saqartu?" Corco smiled. He knew what would come next. Truly, he hadn't left Mayu with much of a choice. Now that the governor knew his own grandfather could take away all of the power he so desired, his only choice would be cooperation, rather than opposition.

"In fact," his fingers pressed together into one solid fist, the young Lord Mayu stared down onto the floor, away from his responsibilities, until he found his heart and looked back up, his eyes firm and lips pressed together, without waver. "The town of Harkay in King Corco's territory was created by House Saqartu. It was my idea."

"Yeah, I know," Corco answered, still calm, while he checked the immaculate manicure of his hands. When he heard his cousin swallow from across the desk, he had a hard time suppressing his grin.

"...how?" Mayu's strained voice came at last.

For the first time since Mayu had entered, Corco righted his body, though he still spoke with the same calm indifference as before.

"We just had my warriors follow the paths which lead away from the town, out of my own estate. Such a large town, in the middle of nowhere? It has to get supplies from somewhere. So I wasn't surprised to hear that the supplies came from the surrounding estates. Plus, when I made my rounds earlier, our other neighbors confirmed my suspicions as well. All the surrounding lords agree that Lord Saqartu planted Harkay as a way to steal land from Saniya." At last, Corco allowed himself a smile again as he saw Mayu pale. "No matter who you sent to follow me during tonight's events, he didn't do a very good job."

Part of Mayu's confusion must have been the apparent betrayal from his allies, and part of it how hard it would be for him to grasp Corco's own knowledge, but the even bigger problem might have been the consequences of his own actions. After he had been shown Corco's new army of Yaku locals and the convenient 'misfire', he should understand that Saniya was anything but helpless. Add to that Corco's trade deals with just about all of Mayu's allies and his weakness at home and the young lord's excuses became almost predictable.

"King Corco, this lord never had the intention to harm House Pluritac. At first, the town was founded as a method to limit and counteract the power of the then-administrator Sawo d'Ichilia, a way to halt the Ichilia clan's influence within the region. In fact, the plan was implemented with father's express permission. However, now that King Corco has come to take control of his own lands, House Saqartu will be more than willing to help get the town and its surrounding region back under Pluritac control."

His lips twisted into the least convincing smile, Mayu tried an excuse that was just as unlikely. Maybe he realized his own state, but the lord ended his little speech with a bow, one which hid his grimace.

"Aah, I thought it was something like that," Corco answered, with the same smile he had held the entire time. "Not to worry, Governor Mayu, I will not hold your actions against you, since they were made with best intentions in mind. I accept both, your help and your apology. If you want to get involved in the dealings between our estates, you should talk to our grandfather once you get back to Puscanacra. Since the misunderstanding has been cleared up, please return to the hall and enjoy the rest of the banquet."

Another unpleasant part of the evening had been concluded, so Corco gestured towards the door, to get his tasteless cousin out of his hair.

"Yes, of course. House Saqartu thanks King Corco for his understanding."

A flustered bow right after he had stood showed Mayu's deference as much as his confusion, before he turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Cousin." One last time Corco's words managed to surprise Mayu and halt his steps, but only for a moment. Without a word and without turning his head, the lord of Puscanacra left the room.

"King Corco, you would not believe Governor Saqartu's lies, would you?" Tama, who had stood in the corner of the room like a statue all this time, stepped forward to make herself heard. "Even if Lord Mayu's original intentions for the town were to oppose the overzealous Sawo, he had two full seasons to come confess and help restore order in the marshes. There was no reason to wait until today."

With a sigh, Corco stood up and stretched out his back.

"Of course he's lying," he said with a glance over to the spy. "When I came over and looked weak, he probably still thought about bringing some of his old family land back into the fold. It doesn't matter though. For now, we have achieved our goal. Soon, the Chawir marshes will be under our full control. Plus, now Mayu knows his place, and he owes us one for overlooking his greed. Should make it much easier to get his support when we need it. At least my grandfather has more sense than my cousin and knows that we need to stick together. If we want to survive whatever the north will throw our way, we'll need all the unity we can get."

With sparkling eyes, Tama stared back at Corco all throughout his simple explanation, as if he had presented her with the meaning of life.

"Of course, King Corco!"

Followed by another sigh, the king turned towards the door, ready to leave.

"If there's nothing else then I'll get back to the banquet hall now. There's still a lot of stuff we can sell. I don't really want another debate with the finance bureau, so let's shore up our treasury."

"There is one more issue."

Already half across the room, Corco turned to his attendant once again. With narrowed eyes, he stared at the calm girl.

"What is it?"

"The matter concerns the commoner I have mentioned before. After he has worked hard to support unity between the classes, he has specifically requested an audience, to thank the king for his gracious invitation."

At last, Corco's interest was restored. This sort of reaction from the commoners was something he had been waiting for all this time. With a smile, he bounced back towards his desk and jumped into his seat.

"In that case, you can lead him up now. But first, we'll need to prepare. Let's guarantee a grand entrance."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

122 Mortal Danger

Tawo's plan had already been a success, beyond his own belief. After his request for an audience, he had first been asked to wait for a while. At that point, he had begun to doubt himself. Had he been discovered? Would the empty hallway the warriors had led him to be the last place he would ever see? However, it hadn't been long until another warrior had called upon him, to be led to a meeting with Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, the new King of the South. In the end, the king's warriors didn't even search him for weapons before they let him enter the king's private study. No one showed any amount of precaution towards him.

*Of course they wouldn't,* Tawo thought. These powerful warriors, so convinced of their own superiority, would never expect an ordinary peasant, an uncultivated mortal no less, to know his way around anything more dangerous than a hoe, let alone have the audacity to bring anything pointier than a spoon to the king's banquet. Never would they expect a simple commoner to plan a lord's assassination.

No matter what reason the guards had for their negligence, now he was here, right in front of the new lord of Saniya. From the expensive drapes behind King Corco, he could feel the lord's status and ambition. Stitched with a map of the entire south, an object that would be considered illegal almost anywhere else in Medala was hung up in the room like an ornament, to show off the lands the king would consider his own. From Corco's arrogance, plain in his view, Tawo's eyes went down, over the desk between him and his goal, to the man whose own future would decide his fate.

*Much smaller than I thought,* Tawo mused. However, he shouldn't have been surprised. Despite the king's reputation as the man who defeated King Pacha in a duel, his cousin Sawo had cursed the 'dwarf-king' often enough to reveal the truth of the lord's diminutive stature. In addition, the cheap bronze crown on his head was just as described, while the king's sharp, angular face with the deep-seated eyes did much to add gravitas to his appearance.

Although the distance between the empty seat intended for Tawo and the king's own position was larger than necessary for a conversation, this much security was as good as nothing at all, at least for a trained warrior like Tawo. Even more surprising, there were no further guards besides the ones outside the door, and there was no tension in the king's body, as if he didn't so much as consider a possible attack from his guest. Greedy, and confident to the point of arrogance, even more characteristics Sawo had described the 'haughty brat' with.

"So you are here to thank this king for your invitation," King Corco began, in an unusually conversational tone. "In that case you should be quick, servant. I need to be back at the banquet of lords soon."

"Of course, great King Corcopaca. This commoner will not bother great king for too much longer."

With a shallow smile and a deep bow, Tawo did his best to placate the pompous lord, before he took a seat on his chair before him. When his face came back up, he found the king stare at him, without a word. Against his better judgment, he began to feel nervous. Desperate to hide his emotions, Tawo began to rub his hands on the expensive, upholstered armrest, eager to wipe away the drops of sweat he could feel escape through his skin. Even though he had lost a lot of weight during the harsh labor of the past two seasons, he was still too fat, and it only made his transpiration worse. Even then, he could feel a cold shiver run down his spine as he looked deep into the king's iron stare, sucked in by the intense focus of the man before him.

"Village Chief!" he heard a shout.

"Excuse me?" Ripped from his dream-like state, Tawo realized that he was drenched in sweat. By now he understood that any attempts at murder would be nowhere near as easy as he might have thought. No, this man here was dangerous, and even with good preparation he wouldn't be an easy foe to take down.

"Your name was Iqtana Asto, was it?" Patient, the king repeated his question to his absent-minded guest.

The answer was easy. It was so simple. Tawo knew what he had to do, he had planned it for so long. And yet here he sat, frozen in shock, and stared down his opposite once more. No matter how perfect everything seemed, something was off, that much Tawo's gut told him. Even worse, he knew that everything would hinge on this next, crucial moment. If he succeeded, his cousin could return back to Saniya and they could rebuild their lives. If he failed, his own life would end here, and Sawo would become an outlaw, his future uncertain.

"It was Iqtana Asto, is that not correct?" the king repeated.

With enlarged eyes, Tawo gripped his armrest even harder, every joint in his body numbed and stiff. Without a way out, the warrior's mind stopped. Thus he followed his instincts and did what he had been prepared to do all along.

"No, King Corcopaca. It is not," a hollow voice forced itself out of Tawo's throat.

Both eyebrows raised, the king shifted in his seat. Even then, Tawo was still stiff as if he had been chained in place.

*No reaction,* he thought, confronted with the unwavering grandeur of the ruler before him. Still, he chose to continue, for now there was no way back.

"My name is Tawo d'Ichilia, cousin of Sawo d'Ichilia, former administrator of Saniya, and this servant has come to make an offer to the King of the South."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tawo's entire body slumped down in his chair, his chains lifted. Only now did he realize how much his wrists hurt from arching them down in the tension. No matter what would happen from here, he had made his decision, and given destiny out of his hands. Now his life would be in the hands of King Corcopaca instead. However, no matter what reaction he had expected from the king, he was still surprised, in more ways than one. In response to Tawo's stunning declaration, the king indeed looked surprised, but he stared straight past Tawo, towards a partition in the back of the room.

"See, what did I tell you? No threat at all," a young voice, full of confidence and strength, came from behind the wooden boards.

"King Corco, we cannot be rash. For now, we should-"

"Ah, let's just get on with it. I trust in Ronnie's judgment, so we shouldn't waste too much time." When a woman's soprano tried to interrupt the man, her words were cut short, before the divider was pulled to the side, to reveal a short warrior with a chubby face and shoulder-length, brown hair, together with an elegant beauty. Behind them were several lounge chairs the two must have come from.

Before Tawo could even react to the strange new arrivals, he heard a rustling sound, and then footsteps, as men burst out of the drapes positioned all throughout the room. Within moments, he found himself surrounded by warriors, held in his seat with intense force. Even if he had ever planned to kill the king, by now he would be powerless.

Although he thought he had gone past fear already, he learned how easy it was for a man to change his opinion on matters of the heart. Now he knew that the king had never been helpless. Now he knew that any attempt at the king's life would have only ended his own, while it would have been no more than a footnote in the king's day. With tears in his eyes, Tawo turned back to King Corco, who still sat at his desk without movement.

"Please, King Corcopaca. At least do this servant the honor to hear his plea!" he called in desperation.

Again the king shifted in his seat, but this time he didn't appear intrigued. Rather, he seemed uncomfortable.

"No worries, no one will kill you. The warriors will just search you for weapons. We'll have to be careful, especially considering your family name."

With confident strides, the short man from behind the partition walked past Tawo and towards the king, who stood without hesitation and took off his crown. The king's insignia held in his trembling hands, he bowed as he held it out to the short warrior.

"It's fine, Quato," he said, as he plopped himself down in the king's seat and answered the 'king's' devotion with a lazy wave of his hand. "Just put the thing wherever. I'm not gonna wear it in the banquet hall anyways and this here shouldn't take much longer."

"Of course, King Corco." After the false king had positioned the crown back on the desk and the woman had stepped to the side of his new opposite, the true king leaned forward with a sly grin on his face.

"As you might have guessed already, warrior Tawo d'Ichilia, I'm King Corcopaca. Sorry about all this, but we needed to insist on some security. I'm a big deal after all. So, what did you say earlier about an offer?"

While the king reopened the conversation, the warriors around Tawo ripped and tore at his clothes. No part of his body was left unsearched, to guarantee their king's safety. However, Tawo was far too socked to even notice.

"But... how did you..."

"Did you really think the warriors of Saniya were so incompetent as to let an escaped convict sneak into the royal banquet undetected? If that is the extent of your slyness, bandit, I do not believe there is any reason to hear you out." By now, the girl had taken her place by the king's side and stared onto Tawo with narrowed eyes.

Only now did he understand how close his brush with death had been. At this point he was sure that from the very start, Saniya's new forces had known who he was. If at any point in the evening he would have seemed like a threat, Tawo was sure that his life would have ended right then. Even back when he befriended Egidius and discouraged Khuno's thoughts of revolt, he had danced along the edge of a cliff, oblivious to his own doom below.

"No, that's fine," King Corco allayed. With another simple wave, he called back the female servant and reigned in her aggression. "Let's get on with it. Please tell me what it is you want. I've still got places to be today."

"Of... of course, King Corcopaca," a flustered Tawo answered, before he took a deep breath to stabilize his battered heart. Once his warrior training had kicked in to calm his mind, the men around him had stopped to grope and tear at his cheap robes, so he could focus on the negotiations.

"This servant has come-"

"Pronouns, people," the king said, in a tone as if he had repeated the same words countless times. "Don't do the 'this servant' thing. Please."

No matter what strange quirk this king had, Tawo was more than willing to comply. This was no time to give the man a lesson in etiquette.

"I have come on the request of my cousin Sawo d'Ichilia, and on request of the remaining bandit kings of the Chawir marshes. Throughout the year, one of King Corcopaca's great goals must have been to deal with the bandit kings and regain control over his own countryside."

"You're here to betray your people?" the girl sneered. However, Tawo ignored the woman. Only the king would have any right to speak justice on his crimes. Thus, he continued his prepared speech.

"Here is our request, the request of Sawo d'Ichilia and the bandits of Chawir: We wish for a fair trial, and leniency, the same kind Sawo d'Ichilia's former warriors have received. All bandits shall be allowed to work for the king, as paid laborers, while the bandit leaders themselves shall be set free, allowed to live as commoners within Saniya. In return, I will hand King Corcopaca the names of every bandit who has plundered his way through the king's lands, as well as the location of their respective hideouts. This is our humble offer, and we hope King Corcopaca considers," he ended with a bow, strength returned to his voice.

"And why would we not simply keep you here, and torture the locations out of you?"

Although he didn't like it, this time it would be much harder for Tawo to ignore the woman's question.

"Despite my outer appearance, I am still a warrior. I will do my all to resist torture, and any knowledge gained could be false as much as it could be true. In addition, once my companions realize that I have not returned after several days, they will know that my mission has failed. At this point, they are prepared to switch location, to places even I would not know. The marshes are vast and no one knows them better than our people. If King Corcopaca chooses to be merciless, we will remain a thorn in Saniya's side forever."

At last the king spoke again, with a frank smile spread across his friendly face.

"I like him. Okay, Tawo d'Ichilia. Let's discuss conditions a bit. But first, you'll have to change that family name if you want to stay here."

With a sigh, Tawo could hear the door close behind him. For the second time today the tension fell off his body. Although the warriors who would escort him back out of the castle still made him nervous, Tawo felt as elated as he had back when little Qilla had kissed him for the first time. Despite all the twists and turns, his mission had been a success. If the king kept to his word, they would get a second chance at life, even if it would be far below the grand visions of his cousin. However, even when he felt at ease for the first time since his escape from the prison camp, someone had to come and ruin his moment.

"Warrior Tawo, one second."

His eyes closed, Tawo breathed in once, before he put on a polite smile and turned back around, to face the woman who had caused him so much trouble earlier.

"You might have satisfied the king with your empty words, but I am anything but placated."

"With respect, lady. Whether or not you are convinced has no bearing on me." Now that he had been calmed by the king's frank attitude, Tawo had regained his courage.

"You might not know this, but the warriors around you are mine. They are under my own command." Again, her eyes narrowed, while a cold smile crept onto her lips, wide and thin. "If you fail to impress me, if you cannot convince me of your loyalty towards King Corco, you might just have an unfortunate accident on your way back. So, are you willing to do me a small favor, bandit Tawo?"

There it was again, the fear. Never had Tawo expected so much pressure from a little girl. As he felt the tenseness creep back into his bones, he nodded his head.

"Good. It appears as if you are willing to eliminate all the bandits of Chawir. In that case, would it not be simple to deal with one more?"

With a smile as cold as her heart, the woman pulled a short firearm from within her dress, and held it towards Tawo, the bandages around her hands like chains in his mind. At once Tawo understood that his journey was still not over. He would have to risk his life one final time.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

123 Light and Dark

"If this was your entire offer, then I believe we are done here." When they had met in private, in one of the dark hallways away from the great banquet, Epunamo Villca's anger towards his brother Uchu had disappeared without a trace. However, even if he had put on a show for the other nobles before, Epunamo's snide attitude, arms crossed and head raised into the sky, didn't make Uchu feel any better about his little brother.

"Yeah, that's it. For now. It looks like we can get along pretty well, huh? I'll just accept that you didn't have anything to do with that damned cannon." Unimpressed by his little brother's haughty attitude, Uchu did his best to keep the pressure up, but Epu was just as unfazed.

"And I will accept that you had no part in my father's murder, and no involvement with the false king."

"...right. Why would I anyways? I mean sure, the guy's got some good grub-"

Before Uchu could give a more measured evaluation of the king, beyond Epunamo's mad 'King Corco is my mortal enemy', Guachimine hit his ankle from the side. In response, the big brother returned a playful smack of his elbow. Guachimine, ever the kidder, played hurt and toppled over in turn. Despite the exchange, Uchu understood that he had to pick a side here. Even if his haughty brat of a brother was annoying, he would follow the rat's advice and placate little Epunamo. For now.

"-but no matter how good the food is, he's still a bastard for keeping me here, trapped in a room with all the boring old geezers. I'll cut off his head myself if he ever gives me the chance."

Again he saw that frown from Epunamo, as if a stray mutt had pissed in his exalted path, a filthy blemish on his perfect, noble day. Still, Uchu decided to ignore it for now and put on a heroic smile instead. Dealing with the king took priority for now, but that didn't mean dealing with Epunamo couldn't still come later. Plus, he was busy with other matters. The rat's meddling reminded Uchu of an issue he had tried to address a while ago.

"By the way, brother, where's that servant of yours?" he asked with a look at the empty space behind the proud noble. Throughout the evening, his brother's glare had always been framed by the silent hulk of a servant. However, since the time of their duel, the Villca warrior had disappeared without a trace. For once, Uchu could read more than arrogance or anger on Epunamo's face. Although the frown was almost the same as before, true worry showed through the little brother's facade.

"I am unsure myself. Lado has been assigned a special duty, but he should have been back by now." Although his words were unusually frank, Epunamo talked more to himself than to his brother as he looked over his shoulder, to the empty spot his loyal servant would otherwise fill.

"Special duty? What, you're trying to kill off that king tonight, in his own house? Bold move, brother, didn't expect those kinds of guts from you!"

A wide grin on his face, Uchu stepped forward to slap his little brother's shoulder. In response, he could see Epunamo's goodwill crumble, as he turned his head back front and stared the bandit down with enlarged eyes.

"Are you mad? How could the great King of the South ever allow himself to be attacked in such a manner?" he said, his voice intensified just like his stare. Even though Uchu wasn't one of those nobles who had grown up with a dagger under their pillow, he still understood that this wasn't the place to talk about these issues.

"Well, it's fine," Uchu waved off the urgency. "Doesn't really matter whether or not you're man enough. I'll just do what I want. Whether you wanna come along for the ride or not is your choice, but you'll have to live with all consequences either way."

His ultimatum given, he left behind one final "see you around, brother," and went on his way, back towards the lights of the crowded banquet hall.

"Brother, do you believe antagonizing Epu like this was wise? It seems just as rash as an attack on the king. For now we still need to be careful, at least until we are back with your men, back on the river. Maybe even until we have secured your position as lord."

After Uchu's playful treatment, the rat's squeak had become even higher, even more annoying. Still, the older sibling did his best to explain things to Guachimine, like the good brother he was.

"What, you really believe that bastard's big talk? No matter what the little prick says, I won't buy his peace offer. So long as he doesn't give up on his rights to Cashan, Epunamo will always be our first enemy. As for that king..."

A frown ran over Uchu's confident face as he thought back to his treatment in Saniya.

"...that guy isn't anything good either. Remember how he forced us to stay in the castle all this time. With how much he's stalled, he's really testing my patience. If he doesn't let me go soon, I might just snap and-"

"Shh." Just as the young lord was about to lay out his elaborate plan involving his fist and that king's teeth, the rat dared interrupt him. However, before he could reign in his advisor's arrogance, he saw the reason for the interruption, and had to agree with his judgment.

All this time they had walked through darkness. However, on his way back from his quiet, private conversation in the dark corners of Rapra Castle, a group of lights came towards him, to dispel the night which had crept into the halls all around. Soon the lights revealed the opposite party, and Uchu found himself confronted with the owner of this place, and the guy who had given him so much trouble all throughout today. There he was, with confident strides King Corcopaca marched towards Uchu, future lord of Cashan.

For a moment Uchu thought he could get his revenge. Of course he couldn't kill the king in his own castle. That path would lead him straight to the underworld. While he wasn't willing to take any lip from those grand nobles, his own life was still more important to him than something as worthless as honor. Still, at least he could have given the little man a bloody nose and show him who the boss along the Tunki River really was. However, even that plan wouldn't work out, because the coward hadn't come alone.

Behind him, a large array of over a dozen warriors and servants traveled, some with weapons or torches, while others held trays covered in cloth before them. From the bottom of the trays, an ominous smoke drifted down and onto the wooden floors. While Uchu was still busy judging the strength of the king's entourage and his own chances to take them on, or get away if worst came to worst, the king had stepped closer and offered a greeting.

"Young Master Uchu, what brings you here, into the dark corners of my castle? Why not stay in the main hall and enjoy the great show I've prepared for you, in company of your fellow nobles?" This time, what answered Uchu wasn't the snide arrogance he had felt from his brothers, or the cold indifference exhibited by his fellow lords at the banquet. Instead, the king, the man with the highest status here and the only one with proper real reason to hate him, showed a frank smile as he greeted him with open arms, the same way he had acted all evening, towards all the lords.

"Ah, just stretching my legs. Whoever's in there, they're not my company," Uchu replied as he motioned into the hall.

"Guachimine Villca greets King Corco," the rat spoke behind him like an idiot. And like an idiot, Guachimine was ignored in favor of the most important Villca in Rapra Castle.

"It's not so bad, is it? If nothing else, you get to enjoy good food and drink, right? Worst case, you can always get so drunk you won't notice the contempt anymore."

"You trying to say they look down on me?" Unhappy with the king's casual attitude, Uchu stepped up and decided to challenge his foe. However, his large stride went short when he could see the weapons of the king's warriors twitch in the torchlight.

"...of course they do. What, can't you tell? I sure as hell can, more than you'll ever guess." As if he was about to let Uchu in on a secret no one had any right to hear, the king lowered his tone and looked around like a thief. "I've been away from Medala for seven years. They're the exact same stares an outsider got from the nobles of the eastern continent. I've been there, so I get it."

"That so? That make us brothers then, or something?" Uchu sneered, as he stepped back to restore distance.

"No, it doesn't." King Corco spread his arms to underline his helpless smile. "Cashan and Saniya can be considered natural enemies, no tragic backstory is gonna change that. I'm also sure you don't like that tall tale of me killing your father, whether or not it's true. Still, I think we have more than enough in common, and more than enough common interests, to work together. You don't strike me as the sentimental type. You'd let yourself get bitten by Hatun Supra, so long as it's to your benefit."

"Ahaha, you got that one right. Still, I wouldn't let any snake near me after he's shot me with a cannon." Accompanied by his happy laugh, Uchu showed off his brilliant teeth, the ones he had bitten off ears and fingers with before. Down in the dirt, beyond the walls of the great castles, battles were hard work.

"Yes, what an unfortunate misfire that one was," the king replied, without a change in expression.

"Misfire? We both know that that's bullcrap. Why would your cannons even be loaded? Why would you keep your powder inside that tower? I might not have any culture, or whatever you call this pretend play, but at least when it comes to war, I know what I'm doing. You don't stash cannons in the same place as the powder, even I know that much."

"Yeah, it does seem pretty unlikely, huh?" The king's smile widened. "My men are still investigating how this could have ever happened. Oh, what a strange and unusual tragedy."

"King Corco, you would not know about the location of young master Epunamo's warrior attendant, would you?" the rat chimed in, his second attempt at getting involved.

"Oh, is someone missing?" the king played surprised, but he looked like a bad street performer in the process. Even for Uchu it was easy to see that King Corco was lying, and that he made no attempt to hide it

"Yeah, ever since the cannon shot, Epunamo's warrior has up and vanished. That's weird, isn't it? During a duel, when I stand all by myself, completely still because my brother wants to go through with that weird pistol duel of his, my brother's warrior disappears, and then a cannon shot goes off right after, from a cannon with no powder, and just about misses me."

"Yes, that is strange, huh? In all honesty: As the host for today, I can't tell you too much. Exposing my guests would be bad form and such. Just let me say this: Be careful who you choose as your allies." Just like a merchant, the king finished off with a wink which only made his face appear even more punchable.

"And I'd assume you consider yourself the better ally?" Uchu asked, unconvinced.

"The devil you know, as they say. After all, I've never really done anything to harm you, at least as far as you know."

"You say that and yet you've kept me here all night, to make sure I'll end up dead," Uchu shot back with narrowed eyes. For a second, he could feel the air grow tense as the warriors behind the king lowered their stances. However, a single loudmouth answer from the merchant king was enough to resolve the conflict.

"Ah, sorry about that. I didn't want to keep you here for so long, and I definitely didn't want to see anyone get killed in my place. It just kinda... happened I guess. Honestly, I just wanted to punish you a bit for ruining my evening with that gross head. Uhm... in that case, young master Uchu, I want to thank you for your gracious gift and attendance to my banquet."

To Uchu's great surprise, the king bent down, with the same sort of stiff form he had seen from other nobles all evening.

"As House Villca thanks the king for his hospitality," the rat answered in his baffled brother's stead. Just as well, since Uchu really wasn't up to snuff on his hidden daggers.

"There, you're free to go. Still, you sure you don't wanna stay a bit longer? We're just about to bring out the grand finale of the evening." Another one of those merchant smiles on his face, the king gestured his head back to the mysterious steaming concoctions under the cloths behind him. Although Uchu was intrigued, he had been nervous all night. He would leave now, while no one else could see him. With so many enemies around, his return would be safer when fewer people knew his location.

"Nah, I'll be off," he replied, and tried to make his way out of the castle.

"That's a shame. Oh, another one?" Corco looked behind Uchu to interrupt his exit, and the young bandit lord did the same, to find his brother Epunamo walk towards them, his angry face restored. His entrance seemed anything but voluntary, as he was dragged along by the warrior the king had called Atau, the big man who had swung that metal club around earlier today.

"Ah, cousin. This one's been sneaking around all suspicious-like, stood around the corner and listened in," the tall warrior said towards the king, before he turned back over to his prisoner. "I'd say that's not proper etiquette, even if you're a young master of Cashan."

With a brisk gesture, Epunamo threw off the warrior's hand.

"What would a servant know of these matters? This young master merely did not wish to interrupt the king's conversation, which is proper etiquette for the noble. Now that the king's conversation is finished, this young master will return to the banquet hall together with King Corco, if King would be so inclined."

"Of course," the king answered with the same frank smile as before, but Uchu was sure he could see it cramp up a bit at the corners. While Epunamo ignored the warrior who had led him here, the king left behind a nod and a grin for Uchu, before the two disparate nobles made their way back to their compatriots, surrounded by the king's entourage. Uchu and his rat brother were left in the shadows. Once they had disappeared around the corner, the future lord of Cashan took a deep breath to release his tension. Unlike most people, Uchu preferred the darkness, preferred to move alone. In the dark, he would be hard to spot and hard to predict. Surprises had always been his specialty.

"Let's get out of here. There's a lot to digest," he whispered towards the rat, his only ally, before he disappeared into the dark of the night.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

124 Grand Finale

"And now, I am sad to say, that for the final time, I can present you a new treasure of Saniya. To celebrate the end of our banquet, I have the privilege to present the full work and dedication of Saniya's unique ensemble of chefs. Here it is, the great creation of master Chuku, as well as unique treasure of Saniya, lemon supreme!"

His arms spread wide to mirror the smile on his face, King Corco stood in front of the collected lords, accompanied by a large array of servants, while his baritone voice rang out among the tables. After the king had come back from his short break, he had lost no time to make himself the center of attention once again. Even though he still had to visit all the tables, the king had already announced the end of the banquet.

To Lord Macuy, it was a shame, by multiple measures. All throughout the evening, he had enjoyed the food and drink presented by the cooks of Rapra Castle. What had touched his palate this evening had been food the simple 'cow lord' from the countryside had never even dreamed of. At the same time, the beautiful, novel music on display had formed a perfect backdrop and supported Macuy's great war with the so-called 'treasures of Saniya'. In the end, his vigor had only gotten him drunk, which did nothing but worsen his displeasure.

Even though the king had announced the official end of the banquet with this so-called lemon supreme, Kind Corco still hadn't so much as visited lord Macuy's table. No matter how much the king tried to play charmer, no matter how much he had done for the power of the estates back in Arguna, if he never made it to the table here, none of it would matter to the lord. Lord Corco would remain a shameless and power hungry fiend, like the rest of them.

With a frown compounded by the nausea the brandy had spread in his head, Lord Macuy looked onto the cloth which covered whatever mysterious desert the king's cooks had prepared. At least he could look forward to the taste and return home with some new experiences, he thought, while the servant behind him pulled the cover away. However, what he found before him was nothing but another disappointment.

"A lemon?" Confused, the lord stared at the yellow fruit before his eyes. All throughout the evening, the lords had been presented with this exotic produce in all manner of form. He wasn't a fan of its combination with the brandy, but the lemon juice had been an excellent addition to the fish, if nothing else. Even then, as a poor lord with land in the lowlands of Sachay, far away from the open sea and too poor to import lemons over the land route, he wouldn't know what to do with the knowledge.

Still, there it lay, yellow and plump, with a fresh, green leaf sticking out the back, to taunt him for his own poverty. Even the dew still dripped from the precious fruit. It was by far the largest and prettiest specimen he had seen today, but even so, he couldn't understand just what was so 'supreme' about this specific lemon.

"Lord Macuy seems dissatisfied."

"Bunch of high-strung fops," he mumbled into his beard. With annoyance, the lord thought back to his own home, to the drab halls and backwards cuisine that would await him there. After today, he would have to return, back to the quaint life he had been accustomed to before. During the succession war, his trip to Arguna had taken far longer than expected, and so his house had wasted more silver than he would have liked. For now, they would have to save up for a while, and settle for turnips in milk. If that was his future, he at least had hoped for a perfect climax, the perfect last meal before he left the fairyland that was Saniya and returned to his own, gray life.

As he stewed in the murky waters of his own thought, Lord Macuy was about to touch the lemon with all the derision in his body, but someone poked him first. With a sharp elbow, his attendant reminded the lord of his duties. Although his mood only soured further, at least Macuy still had the presence of mind to look up before he unleashed all the curses of the countryside on his attendant. His hesitation was his great fortune. Stood before his table, armed with a patient smile, was the man Lord Macuy had blessed with his nasty answer before. Over there stood King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac.

"Oh, King Corcopaca. I was not... not aware. Excuse me, the lemon looks... good," Macuy lied with what could only be a crooked grin. Even though the alcohol colored clouds in front of his eyes, he could see the king's own smile turn wider, as he picked up the silver spoon the servants had placed next to Macuy's lemon. As the king held the spoon out to the lord, he sat down at the table.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, they say. Seriously, don't knock it till you try it. And try it you should."

After the initial shock, the lord's anger had returned, fueled by the king's casual attitude. With a grumpy snort, Macuy grabbed the spoon from the king, maybe with more force than necessary. Even though Utusku was a small territory, there was no reason for King Corco to ignore them for so long. At least where he came from, men knew how to be polite. For now he would play along with the king's charade and pretend the sour fruit's deliciousness. He wouldn't stay much longer anyways.

"You know," the king continued, unperturbed by Macuy's lack of an answer, "I'm really sorry that I'm only getting to you last. However, since Utusku is so vitally important, I thought it would be best if I came to your table together with the grand finale. It's much more dramatic that way, isn't it?"

"Sure," the lord nodded, absentminded. Somehow, his spoon was still stuck on that lemon's peel. All the lemons he had seen today had possessed a rather soft rind, but this one was hard as glaze. By now he also realized that the lemon had been chilled down to freezing temperatures. Determined not to lose to a fruit, the great warrior put more force into his arm and pushed the spoon down into his helpless foe.

With a crack, the lemon opened to reveal the treasures inside. Fascinated, the lord stared at the strange phenomenon present on his spoon, his anger forgotten. In fact, the lemon didn't appear to be a lemon at all. Rather, it's rind was a hard, brittle shell, similar to a birch tree's bark in texture, while the inside was filled with a white, soft cream of sorts. Only the center itself appeared like a lemon, as little yellow droplets crowded together to form a core for the fancy desert. Truly, whether or not this was created by nature, it was a marvel, a work of art.

Astonished, the lord raised his head again, and stared back at his host.

"Go on, I'm sure you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Still filled with suspicion, the lord followed King Corco's hand gesture and lifted the strange desert up to his mouth. However, as soon as the spoon entered, he forgot all around him. First was the rind, or crust. A strange, yellow shell, hard and brittle. However, the taste was sweet and creamy as the substance began to melt in his mouth. Even creamier however was the wonderful mass the shell had encompassed and protected, a heavenly concoction. Despite the extreme cold, Macuy could taste and feel the cow's milk as one of the main ingredients used in the treasure.

Back home, lord Macuy was intimately familiar with cows and all the products gained from them. After being surrounded by them since birth, he thought that he had seen enough of milk for the rest of his life, that he would never enjoy its taste again. This magical creation changed everything. Even now however, the lemon supreme still wasn't out of surprises. Once the shell and cream were melted away, he reached the small yellow pearls in the center. Just the slightest bit of pressure was enough to burst them open and fill his mouth with the lemon juice he had become so familiar with over the day. However, in combination with the cold cream and hard shell, its effect was entirely different. Cold and refreshing like morning dew, sweet and acidic at the same time, it was a divine taste like none lord Macuy had ever tasted.

At a loss for words, the lord searched around, to look for someone who could explain this marvel to him. Soon his eyes fell upon King Corcopaca, who sat before him with a complacent grin.

"What'd I say? Pretty good, huh?"

"What is this? How is this possible?" the lord muttered under his breath.

"Ah, it's not that complicated, really," the king smiled, eager to show how complicated it was. "The outside is just white chocolate. Oh, chocolate is an exotic type of fruit my cousin Atau discovered halfway across the world. Anyways, we melted the white chocolate and poured it into a hollow glass form, then turned it until it hardened up. Oh, and the center is made of lemon caviar. It's just some agar agar and lemon juice, dripped in ice water to form pearls, just some trickery. It's a nice effect though, right? Finally, we surrounded the lemon caviar with some ice cream and put it into the chocolate which we cut into two halves before. We seal the two halves shut with more molten chocolate and worked on the outside a bit to get that realistic bumpy exterior. To be honest, it's still a bit rough around the edges. I actually wanted to use vanilla for the ice cream, but Ronnie is still working out the details for our vanillin production and Atau hasn't found actual vanilla yet, so for the moment milk flavor will have to do. The lemon is pretty dominant anyways, so I think it still works quite well."

"Oh no, King Corco. The milk flavor was outstanding, to that I can attest!" Lord Macuy interrupted as soon as he had found a topic he could speak on. "After all, no lord should know more about the cow business than Lord Macuy of Utusku estate."

With the slow nod of a sage, the king accepted the compliment. "That's great to hear. If even you like it, I don't think there should be any problem with the other tables. Still, I think we could have done with some better milk. In the future, Saniya will need much more milk to make this sort of ice cream, but we'll also need a slew of other animal products, like leather. That's why I'm here last. Utusku estate holds the largest cow herds in all of Medala. It's a key to the wealth and success of the south. I'm sure our two estates will work well together from now on."

"Of course." Placated by the food as much as by the king's humble attitude, Macuy agreed to a cooperation without thought, before his reason caught up with his enthusiasm. "However, I am unsure if Utusku estate will be able to provide Saniya with the amounts it would need. These days, feed has been getting more expensive as less merchants travel south in these troubling times."

"Aaah, I've waited for this problem. I love solving problems, you know? I mean, you already should know that we've been selling our fertilizer to other lords, so feed will get cheaper over the following years anyways, but there's other methods I can help you with. My people have come up with new methods of keeping livestock and I don't mind sharing those with you. Enclosures will make your life as lord much, much easier, so I'm sure your industry will soon bloom a new leaf."

Since he couldn't comment much more on matters he didn't understand, Macuy decided to accept the king's gracious gift. Satisfied, the lord nodded and leaned back in his seat. However, as soon as his eyes fell on all the splendor around him, a sigh escaped his lips.

"What's the problem, Lord Macuy? Anything not to your satisfaction?" Corco asked with concern in his voice yet a smile on his face. The young king would hope to sell more favors, of that Lord Macuy was sure.

"No, in fact, everything today has been magnificent. Perfect, even. I am simply concerned that the evening is to end soon. Tomorrow, I will have to return home. And please do not misunderstand. I love my wife, love my sons and my daughter. Still, after a taste of the high nobility and refinement of Saniya, it would be difficult to return to a simple farmer's life once more. I suppose we would not see each other again for a long time."

"That's no problem at all!" the king raised a finger, as if he had only just come up with the idea. "Why don't you come back over in a season? I want to hold another grand banquet in Saniya, for the winter solstice, a festival to last an entire seven days. I'm sure you would enjoy it a lot. You can bring your wife and children too of course. I already planned this in my head, but a lot of lords have expressed similar wishes, so I made it official only a little while ago."

"Oh, that is glorious news. If the food then is as delicious as this lemon, I am sure to be there, come rain or hail." Although Macuy tried to hold a calm smile, he could feel the corners of his mouth creep up further and further, at the thoughts of ever greater marvels from the King of the South. For the first time in a while, the lord felt like a kid again, giddy at the great treasures the world had to offer him.

However, he wouldn't go overboard and lose himself at the mere thought of food. Instead, he had better reasons to return to Saniya. If he wanted to secure the best trade deals for his house, he would have to retain a good relationship with the young king. Since King Corco seemed to enjoy political talks over food, the banquets of Saniya were bound to become the political center of the south. Reminded of the harsh reality in the political arena, his smile soon turned quiet.

"King Corco, you would not offer an invite to all the lords of the south, would you?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"You're worried about the easterners, huh?" Corco grinned, and pointed back to the side, where Epunamo Villca, the villain of today's events, still sat isolated from the other lords.

"After all, they have caused great trouble, and they have disrespected the high office of king. I believe our times would be more enjoyable without them," Macuy hinted.

"True, but if I don't invite them, don't I essentially announce that the king gives up dominion over the eastern estates? I'd rather not leave things in the hands of Cashan, to be honest. They can't even take care of their own sons, how could they guarantee a future for the south?"

Under the laughter of the warriors and lords within earshot, the king raised his shoulders to reinforce his mockery.

"Anyways, whether or not I invite them, I doubt any Villca sons will show up next time, not after the disaster of today. Epunamo sits by himself, and is probably the only lord who isn't having fun, while Uchu has already left."

"Ah, I wondered where the bandit went. What uncouth behavior to disappear without a word." Angered by the thought of the commoner, Lord Macuy only just managed to not spit on the floor in the king's presence. However, Corco waved off the complaint, without any intention to slander a man in absence.

"Aah, no, it's fine, really. I did meet him in a side corridor earlier and sent him on his way. I just wanted to avoid a scene. Not to worry, I think we could reconcile our differences and he left on a good note."

"In that case, I wish young master Uchu a safe return, and may he stay with his own," Macuy said, and dug his spoon deep into the fake lemon.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

125 Perspectives

Once Uchu had left the guards behind, he was presented with the infinite splendor of the stars above. Relieved, the hardened warrior let out a long sigh of relief.

Finally Uchu had left the confines of Rapra Castle behind him. Finally he could breathe.

\"Let's get out of here,\" he said towards the rat who still followed along his every move.

\"You know, brother, there was no reason to be so hung up on leaving right away. Leaving in a crowd could have been much safer,\" Guachimine remarked and followed Uchu along the streets of Sillu Island. This close to the castle, the new town had not been built yet, and so the two marched through empty, dark streets, flanked by half-finished houses.

\"Nonsense. You didn't hear that king before? I mean, I don't like the guy too much, but there's no way he'd kill me, not here.\"

Even though the king would do his best to preserve his own reputation and guarantee Uchu's safety, the indifference and vicious stares from the nobles had done a lot to gnaw at his confidence. Not to mention the cannon shot.

\"Because of his reputation?\" the rat guessed. \"While that may make sense, there is always the chance for him to pretend an accident.\"

\"Another misfire, you mean?\"

\"Just so.\"

Uchu shook his head in response.

\"No way. He can't run a stunt like that again. If he does, none of the other lords are gonna come here any more. How will the great king play merchant and sell his overpriced trinkets then? Plus, I have my doubts that he was the one who fired that cannon in the first place.\"

\"Brother, you would not believe the story that king has told, would you? Believe that Epunamo did it?\"

\"Why not?\" Uchu said, as he looked to the ground, where the water of the Mayura River reflected back the moonlight up above. \"I mean, that king hasn't got a good reason to kill me in the first place, except maybe that head we brought him. Still, the way I judge the guy, he doesn't seem much like the sentimental type either, you know? Our dear brother, on the other hand, came here with a plan. You said it yourself, Epunamo doesn't act without thought, so you didn't think he just brought those damn pistols to look pretty, did you?\"

Although he had first been annoyed by his brother's habit to always walk a step behind, at this point Uchu had accepted it as one of his traits. Considering the way the rat had been treated by his brothers all this time, it wasn't too surprising that he would want to make himself invisible.

\"That's... while that might be the case, we should still consider a cooperation with Epunamo. He is our brother after all. When all of us focus our strength, we can oppose the western lords with their king as a group. In this way, you get time to show your strength and gain favor over Epunamo. Once our conflict with the west is over, you can replace Epu and take father's seat in Cashan for yourself.\"

\"What, you mean show off during war? I can do that.\"

With a dark grin, Uchu thought back to the days of his youth, when the warriors sent by Iqtana Villca – the man who called himself his father – would torture him in the name of 'training'. No matter how hard his brothers had worked in their youths, the bandit was certain that not one of them was this prepared for a war.

Sunk into thoughts of his distant past, Uchu even forgot about his little brother's existence. Uncomfortable, the rat traipsed after the leader he had chosen for himself. At this point, he would still be unsure about his own decisions, and about his older brother's capabilities. However, the bandit was in no mood to placate the rat who was still as good as a stranger to him. Only a call from Guachimine brought him back to Uchu's consciousness.

\"Who goes there!?\" the rat squeaked, but Uchu was only annoyed by the outburst. In front of them, Uchu could see a fat man in a simple, gray robe trot towards them. For most of the evening, the roads had been pretty empty, as the lights of the commoner banquet in the distance attracted them like moths. However, encounters with one or two strays weren't all that surprising. Thus, Epunamo gave his little brother another love tap on the shoulder, to make the brat wince in pain.

\"What are you doing? It's just some fattened peasant. What's with your skittish attitude?\"

Confused, the bandit stared at his brother, who had beads of sweat streak down his pale face, while his eyes chased shadows in the darkness around them. Maybe this much was to be expected. After all, no matter how sly and nonchalant he always pretended to be, the little brat was still nothing more than a pampered noble.

After everything that had happened today – the assassination attempt, their secret talk with Epunamo and the tense conversation with the king – they were now on their way back, but still surrounded by enemies on all sides. For Uchu, this sort of situation was nothing new. He was used to this kind of terror. However, for the brat it must have been too much excitement all at once. Like any good brother would have done, Uchu gave his little bro a mighty pat on the back, to show his presence and ease the youngster's nerves.

\"Not to worry, this isn't the worst scrap I've gotten myself out of. Let's just get out of here and then-\"

\"Watch out!\" Eyes enlarged, Guachimine stared past Uchu and raised his finger in horror.

*Crap, careless!*

He could see the stranger move towards them before. He could hear the footsteps get closer. He should have noticed that something was wrong. Beating himself up wouldn't help any, so Uchu decided to act instead. As so often in his life, his instincts – and his grit – would have to come and save his life.

*No time to turn.*

With a mighty leap, the bandit grabbed hold of his stunned brother, before he dragged both of them to the side, just out of the way, somehow. At the same time, a bang confirmed his suspicion. As if hit by an invisible fist, Uchu's right hip was thrown off to the side, and dragged the rest of the body with it. Confused and disoriented he rolled, without control. He could feel the pavement hit against his shoulder, his hip, his head, his shoulder again, until hit something hard stopped his tumble.

Somewhere along the way, he had lost his little brother, but that didn't matter much for now.

*First, who's attacking? Can't make a choice otherwise.*

Still confused, he ignored the ringing in his ears and found the sky. Up above, the stars and the moon shone down on him with their cold indifference.

*Useful. Stars are up.*

Indifferent himself, Uchu found his orientation as he felt the wall in his back. The attacker would have come from the other side, the side he had been flung from. In mere moments, he had found the source of the danger.

The commoner still stood there in his dirty gray robes, hood up to hide his face, but now he saw the smoking muzzle peek out of the attacker's sleeves.

*Bastard!*

Another pistol, just the same as the weapon which had almost killed him during his duel with Epunamo. When the attacker loosened his fingers, the pistol slipped from his grip and towards the floor. Before the now useless weapon had hit the ground, the assassin had already drawn the next one, an axe this time.

How could this be a commoner? This was another cultivator, no doubt, and a Yaku to boot! Large strides drove the attacker ever closer to Uchu, who was still slumped against the wall, his right hip still numb from the impact. Maybe he was bleeding, maybe dying.

*Worry about that later.*

With trained precision, his hands went down to the ground and grasped for dirt, like they had done in so many fights before. However, he only grasped air, and the cold hard stone of the road.

*Bastard! Who keeps his city this clean?*

By the time the attacker was almost upon Uchu, he had only managed to drag his mangled body into a half-standing position. Even if he drew his own axe, there was no way for him to fight back, not like this. His back against a wall, he saw the man charge towards him. This was it, desperate times!

*Hands in front, as if you're scared of the axe. Good, come in closer! Now!*

With a flick of his hand, the bandit ripped open the cloth pouch inside of his sleeve and released a cloud of pepper powder into the attacker's face.

\"Aah, what the hell!\" a stifled scream, more of anger than pain, escaped the attacker, while Uchu ducked to the left, to escape the wall and gain some room to maneuver. Only a few steps and his legs gave out again. A searing paint had reintroduced his right hip's existence to him. Once more, Uchu found himself on the ground, once more helpless as the attacker shook off the distraction and marched towards him once more.

Desperate, Uchu tried to stand, but his leg gave out again. Only now did he look down his own body, to see his own blood leave the sinking ship drop by drop. A hole had been punched through the cloth of his pants and straight through the side of his stomach, maybe just above the hip bone. His instincts screamed for him to run. Although they had returned his weapon when he left the castle, he could never win a fight if he couldn't even stand. He bit his teeth and turned to the attacker, to face his fears. Rather than look into his opponent's face, he stared into a mask, in the form of a black panther. Still, he would do what he had always done, and claw and bite to the last. Instead, a surprise beyond belief preempted his final hurrah.

Without warning, Guachimine sneaked over from the side to assault the fake commoner. Almost, by a hair, did the ferocious first hit lodge itself in the attacker's masked face. However, the fat man managed to dodge to the side and raised the small shield on his left arm, another detail his long coat had hidden before. Still, A relentless series of hits managed to drive the man back, as Guachimine pushed on, always interrupted by that pesky shield.

For a moment things looked good, but Uchu knew better. His brothers form was hurried, his style sloppy. Unlike their attacker, the brat hadn't been in a single proper fight in his life, and it showed. Like a mad bull he rushed ahead, but the assassin dealt with blow after blow, with minimal movement and no hurry.

*Idiot.*

Like this, the brat would only tire himself out. Like this, the attacker would have easy play. As Guachimine pressed the assassin into the unfinished house Uchu had been thrown against before, the bandit had to make his own choice: Fight or flight. Damn, why had the little brat shown up to defend him? Why hadn't he just run away? Alone by himself, Uchu was sure that he could save his life, somehow. It wouldn't have been the first time. Still, no use crying over spilled milk. Running wasn't his style anyways. He'd just have to think of something on the way inside.

*Move dammit!*

Now that he had sat for a while, he had gotten a better feel for that rearranged hip of his. Although he was injured, and it hurt like hell, it wasn't as if he couldn't stand at all. Bit by bit, he clawed his way back up onto his feet, as his bloodied fingers strove up along the grooves of the wall behind him. By the time he had gotten back up, his heaving rib cage proved the depths his body's damage. While he had struggled with the wall, the fight in the distance was still in full swing. However, by now, the roles had been reversed.

*Crap!*

Now his brother was on the receiving end of the attack, ducked low while he tried to evade the enemy's constant swings. After another deep heave, Uchu ignored his shaky leg and rushed into the roofless building.

Past loose beams of solid oak, he willed his way closer, anxious at the sound of shouts and grunts until the attackers came back into view. Guachimine was still in his wide, defensive stance, his axe clutched in both hands. With an erratic twitch of his head, he looked over his shoulder and rushed up the stairs behind him, the only escape the attacker had left him.

*Idiot, don't run when I'm trying to catch up!*

For a moment, the masked attacker turned around and stared back at Uchu. The bandit halted, ready to fight, life or death. Even so, the panther scorned his determination and instead turned to follow the rat up the stairs.

\"Go screw a donkey, you bastard.\" Under curses, he dragged his beaten body along the stairs, after the others.

Once more he was behind, but through gritted teeth he was determined to catch up once more. He wouldn't let the brat sacrifice himself, not in such a pointless manner, not for someone like him.

When he reached the upper floors, his sight improved again, as moonlight filed in through the open roof, dispersed by the skeletal shadows of the wooden frame above. Finding the fighters was easy. He just followed the noise.

There they were, silhouettes against the night, a mighty panther over a cowering rat. The courageous and clever animal, driven into a corner, had understood his predicament, and by now had calmed down, focused on nothing but defense. Uchu didn't know if his brother could tell that he was coming, or if he was still trying to win time for his escape. It didn't matter. Determined to use his one chance, Uchu took out his axe, for the first time since he had entered Saniya.

He couldn't fight with this in close combat. He would lose, he knew it. He couldn't even stand right. Still, if he ignored the screams from his body for long enough, maybe, possibly, it would just be enough for a single throw. His axe wasn't a noble's weapon. It was the weapon of a bandit. In the wild, there were all kinds of dangers, so he had to be flexible. His axe was just as much built for throwing as it was for hitting.

His hand gripped the smooth handle of his weapon, worn down from years of use. How many times had his own blood, or that of his enemies, trickled down this handle to polish the surface? No time for memories. Uchu blocked out the world around him and focused on nothing but the panther, the beast about to pounce. Through searing pain, a mighty throw catapulted the axe across the floor, through the wooden beams and onto the enemy. However, he had underestimated his attacker, again. The man had seen him long ago.

\"Crap!\"

As soon as he had launched his weapon, the attacker turned his head, back over to Uchu. His left ripped up high, ready to welcome the axe, and welcome he did. Still, the force was to much. And with a scream of frustration, the panther was launched through the open frame, out into the cold night.

\"Brother?\" the shocked rat squeaked, drenched in sweat.

\"We gotta get out of here. Come with me.\" This was no time for tearful reunions. The older brother would protect the younger one, and lead him out of the darkness, into the light. However, only a few steps and all strength left him, as he stumbled and almost fell.

\"Come on brother, let me help.\"

With a grunt, Uchu accepted Guachimine's assistance, and the youngster followed his big brother's guidance to the opening opposite of the attacker's fall. They still weren't safe. They couldn't know if there were any other men in the city, ready to ambush them. They didn't even know if the first attacker had died from the fall. Now that they were injured and down to a single axe, they really were out of cards.

At the house's edge, Uchu looked down, into the dark night, illuminated by a silver film of moonlight. Below them, the shimmer of silver rang true as well. A mirror worth more than all the treasures of Arguna, the immortal, eternal Mayura River. Of course, Uchu knew that this wasn't only the Mayura. These waters were as much part of the Tunki as they were of the Mayura, and the Tunki was his turf.

A glance along the waterfront, and soon he spotted a small boat, only two houses down, anchored along a little pier. No attackers were anywhere in sight. All they had to do was swim a short distance. That, the bandit could do, even with a bum leg. Of course they would be an easy target for arrows, cannons and all the other tricks the nobles seemed to like to damn much. Still, this was their best shot. They would have to risk it. Whoever was behind this attack, they should hope that Uchu wouldn't make it through today, wouldn't make it back to his men. Otherwise, he would become their worst nightmare.

\"Brother,\" he asked towards his side, \"how good are you at swimming?\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

126 Opponents

"Aah, that was tiring." While he rubbed the back of his neck, Corco let himself down on a sofa and put up a leg. "Do we still have any tea left somewhere or have the vultures emptied the kitchen?"

Even though he knew that cultivators would eat more than normal people, today's host had still been astounded by the appetite of his guests.

"Yes, King Corco. I have told the staff to retain a few pieces. Quato, please bring some tea," Tama said, as she stood aside.

"As you please," Quato answered from the door, before he left the master and servant alone in the room.

"You can go sit as well," Corco said with a look up to Tama. He really didn't like her sneaking around behind his back all the time.

"Thank you, King Corco." With silent steps, the girl walked past the table and took a seat on the second couch, to her master's opposite.

"...can you be a bit less stiff for once? Getting creeped out, to be honest. You don't need to try so hard to impress me."

"Of course, King Corco."

Although the girl was still stiff, for now it would have to do. At this point, they had more important matters to consider.

"So what's going on with our guests right now? Give me a summary."

Dutiful as always, Tama brought her notes up to the table and began to read.

"To our surprise, most lords have stayed over night and will only leave in the morning. In fact, some lords have considered the purchase of a mansion in Saniya. Only young master Epunamo Villca has decided to leave sooner, possibly to follow his brother Uchu. It appears as if Lord Saqartu and Lord Ogulno considered an early departure as well, but when they heard the plans of the remaining lords, they were forced to stay as well."

While the girl talked, Corco had gotten back into an upright position, but all of his grandeur disappeared when he heard the last sentence.

"Ahaha, turns out that not everything's going how my bratty cousin wants."

Although Tama hid it well, Corco could still detect her smirk.

"From what our men tell me, Lord Mayu has been quite frustrated throughout the evening, even more so since your meeting. It appears as if he dislikes all the new connections we have built up with the lords he considers his own."

"And how do those connections look?"

"Quite satisfactory as well. Although the duel and misfire were troubling at first, most lords didn't seem to mind all that much."

"We're all a bit bloodthirsty down here," Corco added.

"Instead of the dangers, they were more focused on our various trade goods, even more so after we announced our harvest for this year."

"Is that so?" Accompanied by the tiniest smile, the king grasped for a cup of tea to hide his perfect expression behind, but found that Quato still hadn't returned.

"Yes. In fact, Lord Ogulno seemed intent to form a coalition of lords, to force Saniya into giving up its secret technologies. However, by the time he could talk to the other lords, most tables had been visited and knew about the fertilizer, iron tools and enclosures, so Ogulno's incitation fell on deaf ears. Still, even with the dangers involved, I believed we could have kept the secrets for ourselves. I am amazed that King wold show this much foresight to predict Lord Ogulno's move."

"It's nothing that great, really," Corco said as he stroked his invisible beard. "Yeah, I thought someone might try and use our good harvest against us, but I never wanted to hide the fertilizer in the first place."

"You did not?" For the first time since the meeting started, the girl looked up from her notes.

"Of course not. Why would I? After all, we'll be much better off if we can sell our fertilizer to other lands. If the other lords start to depend on the fertilizer, then most of their harvest – which is most of their income by the way – will come from us. In that case, how could they pretend independence again?"

As the implications of the plan dawned on her, Tama's eyes grew large. This time, Corco was rather proud of his little ploy as well. Just as he had said, he would conquer the south not with guns, but with food and drink.

"Plus," he continued, "all the people of Medala are my people. I have no reason to make a distinction between them and deny some a massive ease of life like cheaper food, just because they don't live on my lands. After all, sooner or later, all of them will be under my rule as well."

After her initial shock, Tama regained her composure and put her notes in front of her mouth, to hide her smile.

"Hihi, very true, King Corco. Your greatness will shine all across and enlighten all of Medala."

"Let's not go overboard. For now, we should first get our own backyard under control."

Although Tama looked like she wanted to deny Corco's sober attitude, she was interrupted by a knock from the door.

"Ah, that should be Quato with the tea. Please excuse me, King Corco."

As Tama stood up to open the door, she left her notes on the table. Fascinated, he picked up the paper. However, the king hadn't even found order in the chaos on the page, when a surprised scream from the door demanded his attention.

"What the hell is going on?" he shouted as he jumped out of his seat.

To his surprise, it wasn't Quato who had entered, but Atau instead. His face a mask of rage, Corco's cousin had grasped Tama's neck and silenced her scream, while he pushed her back, until she fell onto the couch once more.

"Stop! What the fuck are you doing!?" the king screamed and ran around the table.

"This is for the best, Laqhis. She's a traitor. She cannot be trusted!"

"What the fuck are you talking about! Let go!"

Desperate to save the girl, Corco ran towards them and grabbed hold of his cousin's arm, but of course he was too weak to shake off the much taller captain.

"I knew she was up to something, so I had Ivo follow after the bandit in secret. She's tried to kill him, did you know that? Again, same crap that happened with her brother! Even worse, the guy escaped! Now she's really done it!"

By now, Tama's eyes watered as she gasped for air, clawing at her attacker's hands. At last Corco understood where the problem lay. At last he knew how to solve it.

"Stop! I did it!" he shouted, happy that he wouldn't have to choke out his cousin to break up the fight.

"Huh?" Confused, the warrior turned his head. His fingers eased up in reflex, just enough for the girl to break free. Under fits of coughs and wheezes, Tama rolled off the sofa and onto the expensive carpet.

"I ordered the attack on Uchu," the king said, with no time to worry about the girl. "I ordered the failure too. It's all been my plan."

For a while, everything was quiet, as the warrior stared at him with an open mouth.

"Are you okay?" Corco asked the girl who still sat on the ground and held her neck. However, before she could say anything, Atau managed to form words again.

"Wait, that makes no sense. Why wouldn't you tell me?" he asked with a whisper.

"I'm curious myself right about now," Corco said, and looked down to the girl who had already regained her composure. Although Tama dragged her body back to her feet with difficulty, her face was once again an unreadable mask. As he saw the red marks on her neck, he understood just how heavy Atau's hand had been. However, this was not the time for sympathy. He would clear all issues between the two, right here and now.

"Although King Corco ordered me to involve Captain Atau in the operation, this servant found it more prudent to use the warrior without his knowledge, lest the mad bull destroy the king's divine plan. As it turns out, my fears were more than justified," she said as she rubbed the red streak marks across her neck.

"What did you-"

"Sit! Fuck me, if anyone here says another word out of line I'll make them governor of the tiniest island I can find!"

With a heaving chest, Corco looked between the two opponents. This was just about the worst outcome he could think of. At this point, two of his closest allies were a minute away from mutual destruction. It was time to air out the room. For the moment, he waited until both members of his court had taken a seat, opposite each other of course. A sigh aired the king's grievances.

"Okay, so what is all of this pointless infighting about?" he asked Atau first.

"That woman can't be trusted. Even if she followed your instructions this time, she still didn't tell me anything."

"Tama," Corco looked over, hoping for a better answer.

"King Corco, it has become more than clear that Captain Atau cannot control himself. If he had been informed of our plans, there was a chance he would have ruined them."

"I distinctly remember telling you to get Atau involved, and my memory is pretty good, so don't bullshit me. When it comes to combat, he knows what he's doing, and I trust him more than anyone. There was no reason to involve him in a secret combat mission."

"But the captain was involved, King Corco."

"I'm right here. No reason to lie in my face like this." With a low growl, Atau pushed his body forward, closer to the unfazed girl across the table.

"Captain, I am loathe to tell you the details, but you were in fact involved in our plans. After all, you made sure the bandit Uchu saw how his brother Epunamo had spied on him. Thus, Epunamo would also know the time of Uchu's departure."

Again Atau stopped for a second, as realization dawned on his face.

"During the banquet, it was one of your people who told me about some suspicious guy hidden in Corco's path!"

"Indeed it was. Any like a splendid warrior, captain found young master Epunamo and presented him to young master Uchu. I believe like this, I have fulfilled King Corco's orders," Tama smiled back.

Just as Corco was about to explode again, the door to the room opened without warning.

"Can't you knock before you enter!?" Already fed up with the pettiness of his people, the king's head shot around to admonish the newest intruder on his victory lap. To his surprise, it once again wasn't Quato who had come back with the tea.

"Everyone seems quite busy. Shall I come back later?" alchemist Bombasticus asked with a smile.

"Ronnie, sorry about that. Please come in."

"As the king demands," he said, and placed a tray loaded with a teapot and several cups on the table between the silent combatants. In ignorance of the atmosphere around him, the alchemist began to set up the cups and pour the tea.

"So how is that Tawo guy?" Corco asked. For a moment, the addressed Ronnie looked at the king, before he returned his attention to the tea.

"I've tended to the man's wounds, but I am no doctor after all. However, he will live. Even so, I am still unsure why Tawo was tasked to only injure the bandit."

"Wait, you knew about the plan as well?" Atau asked as his eyes bored holes into the back of Ronnie's skull.

"Oh, Lady Tama, are you hurt? This looks dangerous." Ignorant of the captain's anger, the fake doctor noticed the spy's fresh bruises instead.

"Nevermind that, where did you hear about our plans?" Tama asked in a shrill voice as she jumped from her seat. What Atau's anger hadn't managed with all its force, Ronnie's care handled with ease. At last Tama had lost her composure.

"Oh, Tawo told me, just now. Tough I am still unsure about the exact reason for the plan, I am sure master Corco has things under control." Once all cups had been filled, the alchemist looked back up, to see everyone stare at him, frozen in shock. How could the assassin Tawo talk about his attack to a complete stranger?

"What can I say?" Ronnie asked, a sparkle in his smile as if he had waited for their reactions. "I am almost as talented with words as I am with alchemy!"

"Anyways, you two need to get your egos back in check." While Corco ignored his friend's boast, he picked up his tea at last. "This is no way to handle politics. Tama, by your own admission, the attack didn't go well. The shot was supposed to hit the torso, but went low instead. If the attack had gone the slighest bit more wrong, you would have killed Uchu."

"Plus, Tawo almost died when he tried to kill the youngest Villca for no good reason. A great warrior like Atau, someone who has experience with firearms, could have prevented a lot of your trouble. Yes, technically, theoretically, in the narrowest sense, you followed orders. But we all know that's bullshit. I won't allow any more word-play like this, or I can't have you around Saniya, or any place I control. Do you understand?" Meek like a wet kitten, the girl nodded her head, before she picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, all without raising her head. Although Corco wasn't impressed by her act, at least for now it would have to do. Still, he would need to do more to restrain her power in the following months.

"Cousin, you can't just go around assaulting our people, even if you think you have a good reason. If you can't keep your anger in check you'll be a liability, even if we're related. You attacked a fucking mortal with your full cultivator strength for fuck's sake! What is wrong with you?"

Even though the captain nodded as well, his head was still high, and he wouldn't even touch his tea. Unlike Tama, he had no interest in appearing remorseful. Atau would know that Corco didn't care about grand gestures. The captain would show his commitment with deeds instead, as was his style. Rather than worry about his present, Atau was much more focused on their future.

"Okay, so the spy girl planned the botched assassination on your order? How does that even help us?"

"Ah, strap yourself in for this one, it's pretty brilliant." Sporting a wide grin, Corco put down the tea and rubbed his hands.

"So, while the attack was happening, we made sure to leave clues. If Uchu or his little brother aren't idiots, they'll soon deduct how Epunamo sent the killer. Plus, me trying to kill Uchu makes no sense anyways, it just gives Epunamo power, something I want to avoid. Like this, the brothers are pitted against each other and the south-east is in flames. It's perfect. As he looks for even more support from the north, Epunamo will become the leading candidate for House Villca's rule."

"Meanwhile, a strong south-east supported by the northerners will only unite the south-west. Who will they unite under? Your brother Mayu, who can't even control his own court, or me, who has all the cannons? This way, we already have a firm hold on half of Sachay. At the same time, Cashan still has two possible heirs beyond Epunamo, which makes it easy for us to get involved and control the region in the future. All we need to do is hold the Narrows against Pacha. This is just about the best-case scenario we could wish for. Aside from an all-out war against every estate, this is the fastest way for us to win over the south. We'd lose that all-out war, by the way, so don't even think about it."

"Wait, but didn't the bandit get shot? What if he died?" the captain asked. In truth, Corco was glad they could move away from their problems and focus on their achievements, though he was sure that his cousin was just eager to prove his insight, and thus his worth. Still, with a raised finger, the king continued.

"Ah, we used less powder in the pistol, and an iron ball. The wound should be shallow and the ball wouldn't have transformed as much as a lead ball would, which means less damage. Plus, there's no lead poisoning either. The guy's a cultivator, so he should be fine."

"And what if the assassin loses? How do we know this Tawo guy is a decent fighter?"

This time, the smile on Corco's face froze. It was an option they had considered, though he really didn't like their considerations.

"We don't, of course. Still, even if Tawo dies, our goals are achieved. If they can identify him, he would be Tawo d'Ichilia, a warrior under the Ichilia clan. A man who tried and failed to take over Saniya in the past, but now returned to my city under order of his newest master. Although if Tawo died we'd still have trouble with the bandits in our backyard, at least Uchu wouldn't suspect us. Instead, Epunamo with his connections to the north would once again become the prime suspect."

"As expected of King Corco, truly brilliant!" With a clap and a bright voice, Tama made herself visible again. However, Atau was still focused on his cousin.

"So that's it? Now we got the south just like that?" he asked the most critical question. In response, Corco looked to the back of the room, where a map of Medala was hung up behind his desk.

"Well, I guess that would depend on how Uchu takes the message we prepared for him, and how the north reacts. Let's just hope they give us enough time to prepare. Because time is all we need."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

127 Old Friends End of Book 3

With a sigh, Elder Caelestis made his presence felt again. After a few seconds of silence, his son looked up from the tactical maps he had strewn across the floor . Although his face was dominated by the same frown he had sported for months now, at least the King of the Center still took notice of his elder.

"Pacha, why can't we include your uncle, or at least your mother? No matter what plans you have, how can we succeed without support from your family?" Caelestis tried again. As if hit by lightning, the king jumped up, and threw his maps into disorder in the process.

"You want me to be a puppet, old man? Do you really want Uncle Divitius to control the empire!?"

Never before had Pacha looked at him in such anger. This had become troubling. Ever since the youngster had come back from his duel with Corco, he had changed so much. At first, Caelestis had thought that the defeat could do some good. After he had tasted his own mortality, Pacha had thrown off the blind pride his mother had trained into him. However, he had also begun to consider the other advice his big brother had given him.

"Pacha, your mother and uncle only have your best interests at heart."

"House Ichilia is not interested in a strong Emperor Pachacutec. They just want a powerless boy to sit the throne, one they can control."

Again the elder sighed. By now the boy wouldn't even let his own mother see him, only because she carried the name Ichilia. In anger over a previous argument, Divitius also left the capital and returned to his estate. In the end it was Caelestis who was flooded with complaints, both from the king and the empress mother.

"While it is wise to be careful, there is no proof for any such plans from House Ichilia."

"Then are you on my side, or on the side of your woman, old man?" As so often when he lost composure, the brat had said something careless again. Even though the succession battle was over, his relationship with Spuria still wasn't something they could show out in the open. Still, this was no time for another argument. Caelestis lacked the energy for one.

"Of course I am on your side, Pacha, always. But we still need their help. House Ichilia is the strongest House in the Empire now that Pluritac has been split into kingdoms."

"Nonsense," Pacha brushed his father's worries away with a grand sweep of his hand. "I control the central Pluritac lands, and with it thousands of elite warriors. I have already gained fealty from a good many lords under my rule. We can make use of their armies and achieve greatness, even without my dubious uncle."

"Who? Who in the central kingdom would be bold enough to stand against House Ichilia?"

Rather than focus on Pacha's unrealistic plans, the elder was more concerned with another potential split within the empire.

"There are many lords willing to shake off the shackles of the Ichilia name to strengthen their houses, even more so at the fringes of the kingdom. Lord Rupilo has been a great supporter and introduced me to a great many who think the same as me: The kingdom's center of power needs to remain in the capital."

"Even if we gain their support, we would only split our strength further! What happens if your brothers attack us!?"

At last the elder had given up on diplomacy. If Pacha didn't stop his headstrong plans, not only the elder's calm days but their very lives would be at risk.

"I don't plan to deny my uncle's help forever. But if we ally, it will be on my terms. We can form a powerful army without House Ichilia. Now all we need is a chance. One single chance to show my abilities as a leader. With success and bounty, even more lords will follow me. Then my uncle will have no choice but to join them, no matter his machinations."

Just as Caelestis wanted to refute, a knock from the guards outside interrupted him. While the son stood in pride and looked over his plans, the father tiptoed through the maze of maps and soldier figurines on his way to the door.

"What matter disturbs the king?" Only after the elder had allowed entry did the guard slide open the door and let more of the evening light enter their strategy room.

"A letter has been delivered for King Pachacutec. However, the seal given is strange," the guard said as he held out a paper roll.

With a frown, the elder took the letter and spotted the wax stamp: A stylized tiger about to maul a monkey. Indeed, this was not one of the sigils of Medala nobility. When he turned back around, he saw Pacha bound towards him, the smile of a mischievous boy on his face.

"You can go now," the king said towards the warrior guard, who closed the door again and marched down the hallway with heavy steps.

"What house could this be?" the elder asked with a frown. At this point it was obvious that Pacha knew more than he let on. Caelestis really didn't like being left out of the loop like this. But the youngster's grin grew even wider, in a way the elder had only ever seen Corco look: Full of slyness and smugness.

"It is from a good friend down south," the king said as he broke the seal and unrolled the letter.

"You have established allies in Sachay? How can that be possible?" As the elder wondered about Pacha's plans, the king's eyes ran over the letter. Rather than answer, a manic laugh escaped his throat.

"Here, see for yourself." Under tears, Pacha handed the paper to his father. As the contents of the letter dawned on the elder, his eyes grew and his mouth dried.

"It seems like my good brother Corco has made a major misstep this time," Pacha grinned, and picked up one more of his figurines. It was the figure of Corco the king had gotten made on order. A tiny, hunchbacked creature made from black ebony, that was how Pacha saw his eldest brother.

"How could this be possible?" Caelestis repeated.

"Here it is, our chance to prove ourselves. The future lord of Cashan, Epunamo of the arrogant, territorial house of Villca, has invited us south to clean up my little brother's mess."

"What? But even if we have the support of a few lords, it would never be enough to attack the south. Again, you need to work with the Ichilias. How else could we ever raise an army large enough to fight the entire, combined south?"

"Not to worry, old man. While you were worried about your wife, I have made some other allies. They should be here any day now. Soon, everyone will know to fear the great King Pachacutec."

As he watched his son puff up his chest and dream of greatness once more, there were many things the elder wanted to say, many warnings he wanted to give. Instead, he only sighed once more.

__________________________

With a sigh, Felian's eyes ran across the rolling waves. This was their seventh day at sea, and already he had enough of the 'endless majesty' of the ocean. How could he have been so unlucky? Not long ago, he had been an unknown little knight in the Bornish countryside. If only he had been as useless as his fellow men, if only he had never shown his abilities, he would have never drawn the interest of his current master.

Even worse, his master had struggled himself. After several failed ventures over the past few years, his lord had come to the end of his rope. At this point, not even the king would be willing to support their lordship any longer, not against the pressure from all the other nobles. In truth, his bread winner was akin to a sinking ship, and he was chained under deck.

Now that he was reminded of sinking ships, Felian's depression deepened even more. He looked back to the nine ships which trailed behind them. When they had left the port, it had been sixeen. Two days ago, they had experienced their first storm on the open seas. No matter what the sailors had told him before, how they had described the horrors of the waves or the dreadful leviathan, he still hadn't been prepared. While he had emptied his stomach under deck for hours, the sailors had risked their lives to keep the ship upright. When the sun had come up again, two of their ships had run aground, and another four had gone missing. For now they would travel north until they found the coastline and then anchor at the first port they could find, to hopefully reunite their forces. They would need any man they could get.

After all, their's wasn't a pleasure cruise. It wasn't an ordinary merchant's run either. The king had sent them with an express purpose: To gain a foothold on foreign lands, and to show that no one shall dare mess with the great knights of Borna. That was his lord's mission, so it had become his as well. After his master's failures had damaged the kingdom so much, this was their last chance. Away from all the nobles who smelled the blood in the water, they could distinguish themselves. If everything worked out, they would come home with grand honors, their reputation, and their finances, restored.

"Where are we, Felian?" a dark voice grumbled behind him. Even without turning his head, he knew that it belonged to his master, the one who had brought him so much misery, and yet the one he would be forced to serve for the rest of his life. After all, his family's prosperity depended on his loyalty.

"I would not know, sire. One wave looks like the next. However, the sailors tell me that we should be close to shallow waters. With any luck, the southern coast of Shimoa should come into view within the day."

"I don't like it, starting the journey like this. Even though we managed to save most of our men, it is a bad omen."

"I am convinced sire will be able to achieve greatness, without fail." Although he didn't believe so, he still said the words his master wanted to hear. Although his master knew he wasn't sincere, he wasn't scolded.

"We will do whatever is in our power. I will not give up, never give up. I will guarantee Borna's greatness in the future, no matter who I need to trample." The dark voice lowered even more, like an ancient beast ready to pounce.

"They are only barbarians after all. Victory should be easy enough."

"Better not underestimate them. Although they are barbarians, they are close to the mystical lands of Chutwa. Who knows what kind of magic they have learned from them."

"Even so, the death of a Bornish dignitary should be punished," Felian followed his master's thread in a flat tone.

"Dignitary?" the master scoffed. "Olbit Kallas was a merchant, no matter how tall your tale. Still, he was my merchant, and I don't take kindly to having my people killed."

*And it is a good excuse to invade lands the Bornish King desires.* Again, Felian had the common sense to not speak his mind. Sometimes, being smart could be an advantage too.

"Land!" From high above them, a voice sounded out over their entire fleet. As the tension in his body eased, Felian turned to stare up into the sun, towards the top of the mast, where the crows nest should sit. To him, the shout was a sweet relief. Soon they would be on dry land again. At least for a few hours, maybe even days, they would escape this blue hell.

"Thank Arcavus. Now we will be able to regroup! With any luck, we will soon be able to conquer the barbarian lands of Medala," he said as he stared up to the sky, his hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

"Indeed. Medala, was it?" a dangerous growl led Felian's focus to the side. Behind his bronze mask, his master's eyes were dark and red with blood. "I wonder how our old acquaintance has done this past year. I haven't forgotten, you know? Prince Corco Fastgrade. I hope we will see each other soon, old friend."

Although the sun stood high, a shiver ran down Felian's spine. Duke Herak of Balit was like his bow, tensed and ready to kill.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

128 Bandits in the Fores

East of the Sallqata Mountains most days were sunny, as the mountain range formed a natural barrier for the rain. Today was no different and the sun stood high in the sky. However, a darkness loomed before a large donkey carriage's path. Like fingers from an ancient evil, the shadows of the primeval trees loomed ahead, ready to swallow the wagon whole, and all of its passengers with it. Without a care in the world, the donkeys shook their necks and trotted on, their eyes focused on the narrowing path ahead.

"Sire, should we continue on like this?" the wagon's cloaked driver said in a shaky voice.

"This road is the fastest path from Porcero to the mountain pass," the wagon's owner replied. "We need to cross the forest, not only because the people in Arguna are waiting for our goods."

Accompanied by the rustling of his cloak, the owner looked over his shoulder, towards the blanket which covered the wagon's body.

"Still, we should be watchful." The driver tightened his grasp on the leash as the donkeys pushed ahead, to leave the light of day behind.

Although the Ancash Forest sat at the foot of the Sallqata mountains, right in the middle of the old centers of Medalan power, the region itself was hardly developed. Of course, the biggest reason for its backward nature would be the jungle before them, stretched from halfway up the mountainside all the way into the valleys of eastern Medala. If they wanted to reach the mountain pass towards the west, they only had to cross through a small side branch of the massive forest, it was impossible to tell from inside.

Tall, ancient trees stretched towards the sun, in a race that had lasted centuries. Over time, the branches had formed a wooden chain mail above their heads to block out sun and rain even without their leaves. Despite the hostile environment, the ground was covered in shrubs, many of them more thorn than leaf. They sat on a bed of decayed leaves, soft ground one would have to wade through. Their only reliance through this hostile environment was a narrow dirt path, trampled into the woods over centuries of sporadic use, no different from the animal trails the forest's inhabitants had cut through the trees.

Even worse, by now it had started to snow, and the white flaked began to suck away the last signs of life. All around them, all they could see was black, brown and gray.

A sudden howl in the distance made the driver jump. With a shudder, he turned to his master.

"Sire, are you sure that we will be safe? I heard rumors that these woods contain demons."

"Ahaha, no worries my good man, those are just stories."

"But sire... I have talked with the locals."

"You mean you've drunk with the locals?" the owner asked and slapped the driver's back. Embarrassed, the servant lowered his head.

"There is no need for shame, Zoldamyr. Your sociable nature has helped us a great deal so far. So what did the locals say about the forest?"

"They say... since long ago, an ancient demon called Ancash Lupu has lived in these woods. It was a powerful beast indeed, a Divine who had been born from an earthly rift on Sallqata's highest mountains. Out of the rift sprang a wolf, blue like water. And down it marched, through the valleys and into the plains, and wherever it went, giant trees sprang up to swallow the lands."

"Well, that's a fun story. So that's how the forest came to be?" the owner said with a bemused voice.

"Yes, sire. However, once the fox reached the limits of the current forest, it met with the humans for the first time. As one of the great divines, the people respected the wolf, but even so the humans didn't want the greedy fox to swallow all of their lands. After all, people can't live in forests."

"I doubt that," the owner mumbled under his breath as he remembered his time on the run, many years ago.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Please continue."

"So the people came together, and to appease the wolf spirit, they sang and danced for three days straight, to attract the demon's attention. Finally, they offered one lamb and one jug of wine from every house, as a token of respect. The night that came to be known as Ancalupu and is still a local tradition celebrated every year in this region."

"Okay, so the wolf took the offers, got drunk and left? The moral of the story would be 'if someone makes you trouble, bribe them'. A good lesson, very true to life."

"...So anyways, the people and the fox had an agreement: The people do their festival once a year and stay out of the forest depths, and in return the fox would no longer spread the forest on his own accord."

"That's idiotic," the owner cursed, far more annoyed than a random stranger had any right to be."It really, really is. These sort of rumors are the only reason this forest is in such a shabby condition. If the surrounding villages made good use of this forest, it could be an invaluable source of wealth for them. I mean, if nothing else, at least they wouldn't be the poorest region in the east anymore."

"But sire, I have also heard that many people have braved the way into the woods in recent years, even more so after this year's drought. Many of them have never returned!"

"Of course people disappear in these woods," the owner shot back. "What about the rumors about the Latrus bandits who stalk these parts? And why wouldn't they? The trees are perfect cover for their operations and there is an important trade route going right through the area."

"In that case, I will rely on sire's grace if we ever come across the wolf," the driver joked.

"Not to worry, if anything happens to you, you can depend on-"

Out of nowhere, a the underbrush to their right rattled. Even the owner jumped up in fright, and both men almost fell out of their seats as they forced their bodies back upright before they could slide off the wagon. However, throughout their journey the donkeys hadn't changed face at all, the only ones among them who remained unfazed by the driver's tale. Even now, when both of their owners were incapacitated, they still fulfilled their duties and marched ahead. Only when a figure stepped out of the shrubs and onto their pathway did they decide to take a short break, and let their masters handle the rest.

"Halt! No one enters my forest without compensation!" the figure shouted.

Besides him, the owner could hear his driver's dice rattle in his pockets, as the man shock like the leaves on the ground. However, now that he had recovered from his shock, the owner himself stood to face the figure. After all, the one who had obstructed their path wasn't some mythical wolf creature, but an ordinary man, nothing more.

"I must apologize for the intrusion, but I would like to ask you to step off that carriage of yours, kind masters," the ordinary man continued. Although his face looked haggard, his long, green robes couldn't hide his tall stature. At the very least, he would be a serious threat to the much smaller owner of the wagon in a fight. Still, the owner remained calm.

"Good sir, can we assume that this is a robbery?" he asked.

"I would rather not call it that, but will if I must."

"Ah, that is a shame. You see, we have to get these wares delivered to the capital as soon as possible. Me and my cousin here are simple merchants, derided everywhere. Last month, a greedy noble took a liking to my own wife, and has since made life in Arguna impossible for us. However, we have heard of a noble shop in Porcero, one which will sell goods highly sought by the nobility to common men like us. If only I could bring these wares back, I could gain enough favor to find protection amongst the nobility. I hope good sire can find it in his heart to help a poor traveler out. If he will, I promise to return within the season, and let sire rob me as much as he wishes."

"That is quite the story, and you have told it well, with a sincere and honest voice. I wish to let you leave, I really do. However, in my line of business, you hear all sorts of stories from all manner of liars, so I am not inclined to believe one, even if it was as well delivered as yours. You see, I have a family to feed as well. Thus, I would like for you to move off the wagon, if you please."

"In that case, I would like to refute that we are two men, while you are all on your own." Rather than move down from his seat, the owner remained stubborn. "We can defeat you without trouble. Why would we give up all of our possessions?"

"I understand," the bandit said, and put his fingers to his mouth. An earsplitting whistle ran through the woods and flushed a murder of crows out of the underbrush. While the owner watched the birds flap away, three other robed bandits had made their way through the brushwork and surrounded the carriage on all sides. Already the bandit's strong facade began to crack. After all, his 'men' were tiny in comparison to their leader. At least one of them was very clearly a boy, rather than a man.

"That's it?" the owner asked.

"Are four still not enough for you, lord? That is all I can offer, I'm afraid."

"In that case, I would consider it my win." With the owner's words, the driver pulled the cover off his wagon and revealed the rest of their troop. Another four warriors stood, matchlocks in hand and swords to the side, ready to fight to the death. While his three companions disappeared into the woods under screams of terror, the bandit at the helm had the good sense to remain still. He didn't have much of a choice, since all the weapons were trained on him.

"I thought you said there were only two of you?" the bandit asked with a frown.

"Ah, it turns out you were right, sire. I am indeed a liar."

"May I introduce myself," the owner said, as he pulled back his hood to reveal his fair-skinned, chubby features. "My name is Brymstock Fastgrade di Pluritac, official under Corcopaca, King of the South. I come with an offer, from the great king to the Latrus bandits."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

129 Old and New

The quiet rasp of the file on metal had always been a satisfying sound to Egidius, but what the sound represented was as much part of his fascination than the noise itself. Nothing could ever come close to the feeling he had when he strove ever higher on his path to perfection. Despite all of his interest in new knowledge, all of his thirst for discovery, this here was his favorite part of a clock maker's work. By the time Egidius had finished his day's work, a sharp sting of metal hung in the air. With a satisfied sigh, he released the air he had held in his stomach all this time. Perfection was difficult to achieve, but it was, always, the minimum he aimed for. For now, he would check how close he had come to his aims.

Again, he picked up King Corco's 'ruler'. As he held up the measuring instrument to the metal cog he had just fashioned, he mused just how fitting its name was. Indeed, with this simple, etched length of metal, nothing more, the King of the South would rule over the lands. With a smile, he measured out the diameter of his newest creation: 17.5 centimeters, exactly the length he had calculated before and not a single millimeter more. At last, his work had been completed. Of course, it was still far from perfect, he was sure. For now however, this level of precision would have to suffice. After all, he couldn't indulge too much in perfection when others were waiting for his completed work. The king was waiting for his cogs.

"Nabo, come here," the clock maker shouted as he turned on his stool. From the outside, light shone in through the open gate of his workshop and illuminated the chaos all around him, with various tools strewn in a disorganized mess after his mad creation had been done. However, he had no time to finish up, since he could already hear footsteps close in. From the back of his work station, a Yaku boy with short hair and uncovered arms marched towards him. Nabo, his first apprentice. At first he had been suspicious of his new master, and cooperation had been slow, but after three seasons together, Egidius couldn't be prouder of the boy.

"Yes, master," he said and bowed.

"Here, take this and sand down the corners. Then I want you to make sure that the piece fits in with the rest of the machine. Remember, don't take away too much material or it won't fit anymore." "Of course master. Right away master." Stiff as a board, the boy offered another bow before he returned back to his own private work station. In the meantime, the master began to clean up his leftovers.

In Medala, strong hierarchies were normal in all walks of life, and normally, his apprentice should have been the one to clean up for him. Even though the king might not have liked this sort of submissive behavior, Egidius was very much used to this sort of stratified behavior from his days in Arcavia, and he had learned that. It seemed no matter where one went, the craftsmen would always work in the same fashion. With a shudder, Egidius thought back to his own days as a young clock maker. Back then, his stubborn master had suppressed the talented young apprentice at every corner. Within the old systems the craftsmen had developed, raising future talent was considered a sin, which was nothing short of poison for progress. Egidius didn't really care about anyone surpassing him. His only measure would only ever be his own ability, and nature itself.

As a result, he didn't subscribe to these old ideas either, despite being used to them. Still, he wouldn't oppose to the youngster's proper worship. After all, as the one who taught him the skills which would feed him and his family for the rest of his life, such a level of reverence would only be proper. However, he would never even consider limiting the boy's creative freedom in any way. He was sure the king would like it as well.

Once he was reminded of his new, strange master, Egidius jumped off his stool and brushed the last iron filings from his leather apron onto the ground. Although his cleanup wasn't completed yet, he would clean out the place in the evening anyways, and it was better to move now, before nightfall. After all, so long as the final cog was fitted in, the king's big project would be completed at last! Even before the instrument had been constructed, Egidius could see that it would be quite useful, especially now that some within Saniya talked about war. With deft fingers, the clock maker rolled up the sketches of his last work. Visuals would make it easier to explain his improvements.

"Nabo, I will go out for a bit! Be careful with the instruments! And I will check on your work later, so don't go playing cards again!" he shouted back into the room before he left out of the opened paper gate, into the light of the evening sun. Past his small, well-maintained garden, the clock maker stepped onto the narrow road he was confident to call home by now.

Although winter had begun to stretch its frozen fingertips towards the town on the river delta, the sun, still strong in its final glow, did its best to fight back against the forces of winter. However, the trees, newly planted on the corner of every road, showed Egidius the truth. Winter wasn't far away from them.

"Good morning, master Egidius," a man said from across the street. With the same reckless abandon everyone in Sachay seemed to have towards the cold, this one also didn't wear any sleeves, while he worked a piece of raw clay on his potter's wheel.

"Good afternoon, Machao. Are you not cold?" he asked with a look at the strange sleeveless shirt everyone in Saniya wore these days. Even after Egidius had gotten to know them, the fashion sense of the locals was still a mystery to him.

"Ahaha, of course not. Before winter comes along, we gotta show our pride as Sachay, right?" Machao smirked. Unsure of what to answer, Egidius nodded his head, while the potter returned his eyes back to his work.

"Anyways, I have some business in Rapra Castle, so I will be on my way for now," Egidius said at last.

"Yeah, show our king what the southern quarter can do. You're one of us now too, so it's time to prove your worth. No pressure though." Machao offered a little wink. At the last banquet several days ago, Egidius had made friends with an interesting village chief, who had led him around the venue and helped him make acquaintance with many of the other locals. Ever since they had gotten drunk together, he felt much more accepted in their midst.

"I will. Good luck with your work."

Of course, it had helped that Egidius, together with all the locals, had been stuck on Chukru Island. Just like Sillu Island had been built to house King Corco's officials and soldiers, Chukru had been built to house his craftsmen. However, Sillu was an island situated in between Rapra Castle and the main town of Saniya, so it would still receive a lot of traffic. Chukru was different. Positioned in the middle of the Mayura River, with the castle a natural barrier between his new home and the rest of Saniya, the island was much more isolated.

As such, it was no wonder that the king had positioned all of his most important, most secretive industries here. Of course this included Machao's porcelain production as much as his own clock making. Not only the craftsmen themselves, even their families had been moved. Although Egidius understood that the families would be a potential point of attack for enemy spies if they lived outside, away from their husbands and fathers, but as a result the town burst with life, in every sense of the word. Still, most didn't mind the lively atmosphere. Not long after they had moved into their new homes, their area had already formed into a tight-knit community.

"Good evening, master Egidius," Ella, the pretty daughter of his neighbor Ulpi, walked towards himself and greeted him with her mysterious smile. All he could do was offer a stiff nod in response, but he was still glad. Yes, even the awkward Egidius had gotten used to his close neighbors.

Of course, there are always exceptions to everything, the clock maker thought as he walked past a two-story building. All buildings on Chukru had large paper gates built right into the buildings and for most of the year, these gates would remain opened to 'let the Earth inside' as the locals put it. Only this one house would leave its gates closed all year round. Even worse, the garden had been neglected all this time and the bushes had begun to grow rampant, while the doors themselves had been barricaded with wooden boards. Truly, his old friend Xander had done his level best to stay isolated.

Again he was reminded of the time they had first been tasked to work on the king's water wheels. To Egidius, it had been an exciting challenge, a chance to learn something new, to bring further life into his craft. Even the others, despite their unwillingness, had still altered their views under the king's persuasion and begun to work on the, in their opinion, less sophisticated works.

Only Xander had remained stubborn. 'No work for a proper clock maker,' he had said, and 'barbaric' too. With a sigh, Egidius shook his head. He supposed that this sort of thing would be normal. No matter where one went, there would always be those who wouldn't be willing to learn and study. Xander was the epitome of everything Egidius had disliked about the old guild system back home: Greedy, selfish, inflexible and secretive, he would be happy so long as he could hoard all the 'lucrative' work for himself. All the while he would close himself off, always fearful others might steal his secrets.

Out of sight out of mind, and soon Egidius found himself in front of the bridge which would connect his home island to Rapra Castle. Already the clock maker looked forward to seeing King Corco again. After all, every time they met, he would see, or learn, something new. Even now, he was more than just a bit curious what the king's plans were for their new invention, although he already had a good few ideas.

With a giddy smile, he walked over to the men who stood guard in front of the gate, one a Yaku from within Saniya's local population and one Arcavian, one of Dedrick's men. Even though he had spent about a year with the mercenaries now, he really couldn't tell which one it was. Egidius had never been great with names.

"Good evening, good men," he said, eager to move along "I will need to make my way inside the castle, if you please. I have work for King Corco finished and need his approval to proceed."

"After the banquet, security has been increased, so we can't let anyone in like this. I'm very sorry, master Egidius." Although he realized that he had been recognized by the mercenary, Egidius had no time to feel embarrassed. Rather, he was much too distracted by another matter. If he couldn't meet the king, wouldn't that mean he couldn't see anymore of Corco's new toys?

"Wait, then how will I manage to talk to the king? What if King Corco has further questions? Only I will be able to explain the details!" he said as he shook the plans for his work in front of the guards' face.

"Ah, I didn't mean you can't go inside," the guard corrected. "You'll have to wait until the king confirms that you can go inside. Since it seems important, we will send someone right away. What matter can I announce?"

With a deep breath, Egidius calmed down again. So long as he would only have to wait for a short while, there was no reason to panic.

"In that case, please tell King Corco: Master Egidius has completed his metal lathe."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

130 Precision

Even after a lengthy wait, Egidius hadn't been let into the castle. Impatient, he stood in the evening sun and tapped his foot. However, before he could get angry enough to leave, one of the guards had led him back into Chukru Island, but took a turn downstream. An uninviting wall separated the northern half of the island from the commoners in his own home. Beyond this wall, it was said that the king kept his most valuable secrets. Once he entered, the clock maker's eyes began to beam. To most others, the strange, stinging smells or the film of smog laid over everything would have seemed uninviting, but to Egidius, they were the signs of progress, the signs of discovery.

Despite his express interest, Egidius had never been allowed to enter this place, of course. All things said, he was only a superficial acquaintance of King Corco. How would he be allowed to enter this most hallowed ground? Now given the chance, he decided to rush off and see everything King Corco had to offer, everything so much more valuable than the Chutwa glaze and the clear glass.

Or rather, he would have loved to do so, but a look over at his companion stopped him in his tracks. He really couldn't fault them for sending a guard with him. His own desires would lead him to spy on everything after all. Thus, Egidius was satisfied to sway along the road, from side to side, while his head craned up to peer into the small windows and high walls around him. Of course he couldn't see anything.

Mean as the secretive king was, he had built these houses much different from the ones in the clock maker's new home. The houses beyond the wall didn't have gardens, and their walls were closed off as much as possible, much like Xander's abode. After he had seen through Captain Atau's telescope on his journey east, he could understand why. Still, he would give the king a good talking to when he saw him. That he promised

Determined to let the king feel his wrath, Egidius stomped after his watchdog, towards the house with the tallest, blackest chimney around. Even now it spewed an endless stream of soot into the steel-blue skies of Saniya. This had started days ago, on and off, and could be seen all the way from his home. Already the clock maker's interest had left from the king's mean secrecy and returned to the wonders around him. Giddy, he followed the guard through the small door at the front.

Inside, a sudden wall of heat made Egidius reel back. How could such a stuffy atmosphere exist inside a city? He was brought back to the volcano he visited years earlier, on one of his expeditions. What in the name of the Lords would the king be doing here? For a moment he wondered if the guards had led him astray, some other purpose in mind. However, before his suspicions could develop, he once again saw the man who had led him all across the ocean.

Before the background of a giant furnace stood three silhouettes. Although he couldn't see them well against the orange glow of the forge, he could still recognize the stout figure of the king, or rather, the stout figure of his armor. Even now, Corco still wore his protection, though somehow Egidius doubted that it would be chain mail in here. Not with the unholy heat the giant contraption before him gave off. In the background he could see a number of men rush around to keep the insatiable beast fed.

Star-struck, Egidius marched forward, towards his goal. Though on the way, he marched past the king and was addressed. Rather than wait for his servant, the king had closed the distance himself.

"Aaah, Egidius, you're here!" he shouted over the noise in the back. Now that they were closer, Egidius could see all the grime and sweat on the king's face, as well as his strange outfit. Amber glasses as well as a leather apron. He knew what would be in store for him, since the king carried a similar outfit in his hands as well.

"Put these on if you don't wanna go blind or... you know... combust!" King Corco threatened as he pushed Saniya's newest fashion into the clock maker's hands. Though Egidius still struggled with the safety equipment, the king was eager to press on.

"Come over please, take a look at this! I'm sure you'll be able to appreciate it!" he shouted into the back of the room.

His arm around the clock maker's shoulder, Corco marched them straight over to the other two shadows. Once he had gotten close enough, the shadows turned into people.

"Good evening, Master Egidius. What a great time for you to appear, on this most historical of moments!" Hieronymus orated. Although he was as pompous as always, Ronnie appreciated his focus on what really mattered: The giant, glowing structure in their backs.

"Hey, youngster. I'm Asiro, local blacksmith. How are you?" another man, tall and covered in muscles, asked as his paw landed on the clock maker's bony shoulder. This one did not appear as focused.

"Egidius, clock maker." He frowned as he heaved off the bear's hand.

"My guys tell me Egidius here brought us something good! Let's get to the side and take a look for now."

"But the pour is almost ready!" Asiro the blacksmith pointed back to the orange glow.

"Aah, it's not gonna run away, is it? You said we still got at least a few minutes, and this will only take a second. Come, you're gonna like it!"

With a wave of his hand, the king marched to a table under a window, the best-lit place in the entire hall. Everyone else shared a knowing look before they followed.

Even though Egidius appreciated the fresher air by the opened window, a constant draft of heat blasted his neck on its flight outside. Still, he tried his best to ignore it and rolled out the plans he had brought. He had spent much thought on these plans and was eager to present them.

"While sire's original design was impressive, I decided to make a few modifications. First, I simplified the mechanism, which should improve the power transfer by quite a bit, if my calculations are correct. Since it proved too weak during tests, I had to thicken the metal at these points here. I expect the cogs to still get unduly hot, so I also designed..."

Rustling abound, Egidius put aside his first plan to show off his second idea for the day.

"...this pump here. There really is nothing special about the pump itself, but since we are building along a river anyways, I thought we could use the water to cool the lathe while it runs. What do you think?"

When he turned around again after his own explanation had been done, Egidius stared into two empty faces, and a sad smile from the king.

"...sorry, what are we talking about?" Asiro, the blacksmith, looked down at the sketches as he scratched his ear.

"Ah, how about we start from the beginning. This," the king pointed back to the clock maker's first plans, "is a metal lathe. You've probably all seen lathes before, but those are usually for shaping wood. I think there are ones for glass blowing too? Anyways, they're usually powered by hand, which is terribly inefficient. I don't want a lathe for wood, I want one for steel! So I asked Egidius here to help me design a new one. This lathe will be water-powered, with energy from the water wheels we've started to build along the river. You might have wondered what we'll fill those empty buildings with, and the answer is: This thing, for now."

"And this 'lathe' is supposed to cut metal?" the blacksmith frowned as he bent over Egidius' shoulder to look at the table.

"Exactly," the king smiled. "Although it might seem unrealistic, it'll work much better than you think. The head on this machine will be made from our best steel, courtesy of you." Asiro stepped back with a grin on his face. "Also, it'll rotate at a thousand rotations per minute-"

"Up to five hundred, depending on the speed of the water," Egidius corrected.

"-what-he-said per minute, so it'll cut through most metals like butter, including iron and-"

"Master Asiro!" a scream interrupted them. "The iron looks ready!?" From across the hall, a worker looked towards them, a megaphone held on his lips.

"Aah, I'll take care of this. Please continue, King Corco." After a sloppy bow, the blacksmith returned to his work.

"So, wouldn't this lathe be quite useful then?" Ronnie picked up the thread. "With this, we could mas produce cogs, and drive shafts. Since we need more grindstones for our harvests, that would save much time."

"In fact, when I worked on it, I thought about the use of the instrument as well. Wouldn't the best use of it's abilities be to bore new matchlocks for king Corco's soldiers? If it works as intended, one could mass-produce smooth and even barrels." Egidius added. Too late did he realize that his question might be misunderstood as a complaint. He wouldn't mind if this great invention would be used as an instrument of war. After all, invention was an integral part of warfare. Still, he couldn't even come up with apologies before the king brushed him off.

"That's not everything," Corco raised a finger. "The invention of the lathe marks the beginning of the industrial revolution, at least as far as I understand it. For us, the lathe is the first proper precision instrument. It allows for consistent, detailed work at an unimaginable pace, which will ease all our other efforts. Here's where the magic comes in though."

As if he was about to regale them the secrets of the world, Corco lowered his head. "With this lathe, we will be able to make better, more precise instruments and tools... like improvements to our blast furnace back there. A lathe will lead to the production of better steel and better, more precise tools. With improved tools and better materials, we can once more build a better lathe. And then the better lathe can again improve the tools again! As the number of lathes increases with their work speed and precision, it becomes an endless virtuous cycle, ever faster and closer towards perfection! All the way until we reach the diamond pickaxe!"

Although the king's final remark was strange, Egidius hadn't even registered. Instead, he focused on the sentence before. The lathe would bring them closer to perfection, with each new iteration. Wasn't this the goal he had worked towards all these years? Wasn't this his own eternal wish? Now more than ever, Egidius was glad that he had made the leap onto that boat across the ocean. Still, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there were still many obstacles to overcome. Determined to see his dreams become reality, he decided to make his king aware, even if it would be viewed as an insult.

"In that case, we would need to overcome all the relevant bottlenecks. Otherwise, they will slow our progress to no end. For one, we would need a near-endless stream of materials. Since the number and quality of tools will increase exponentially, so will the amount of quality steel we need. This appears to be the most critical obstacle."

For a second the king stared in disbelief, before he burst into a self-satisfied laugh, his head held high and all.

"Right! Exactly! Indubitably! That's why we're here!" he spun around to present the giant furnace in the distance, but the hot air forced the king's high head back down. Unperturbed, his voice retained the same strength as before. "Look at this, the second most important invention for today!"

"Hmhmmm," to the side, Ronnie cleared his throat.

"Okay, one of the most important inventions today! Let's go, it looks like they're about to start the first pour." Again he followed the king, ever closer towards the unearthly heat. Once they were close enough that his face felt like fire, Corco shared a nod with Asiro the blacksmith, before his powerful baritone spread across the hall again.

"Behold, the blast furnace! From our friends on the Verdant Isles we've received some good quality brown coal, which our grand alchemist has since transformed into coke! Ah, the coke burns at a higher temperature, which is important!" he shouted with a look to Egidius. Although he already understood the punch line of the king's speech, he still stayed quiet and listened. After all, there was always something new to learn.

"Anyways, then we designed this massive furnace, together with Asiro here. Although we don't have pure oxygen for now, the furnace lets us blast air directly into the fire, which increases the temperature even more."

"I never thought man was capable of such inferno," Egidius replied. In a trance, he stretched his hand towards the flames. His fingers began to swim before his eyes.

"According to our newest thermometers, the furnace can reach temperatures of about 1600!"

"1580, said our last reading!" Asiro corrected.

"Right, what he said! Anyways, with that level of heat, we can liquefy the iron and get rid of all the impurities, to be siphoned off as slag! Turning it into decent steel after that is as easy as baking a pie!"

Now they stood before the furnace spout, and watched the workers pour the liquid metal into square forms. Of course these were only tests. Egidius could imagine all kinds of forms to be used here. Considering the amount of metal they were handling, the speed and precision boggled the mind. To him, the iron glowed as hot as the sun, to spread its light across the world. What a privilege it was to be alive at this time, in this place.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

131 Recruitmen

"Master Rimaq, thank you for meeting us at such short notice."

With a smile, Fadelio lowered his head only the slightest amount. He wouldn't want to spook his host, after all. Even so, the middle-aged man's tiny eyes grew to normal size as he swallowed in surprise. With his yellowed fingers, he forced the warrior back upright.

"Please stand, Official Fadelio! This servant is not worthy to-"

"Stop!" The official raised his hand to brush off the craftsman. His frown backed Rimaq up further. "I'm not some high-strung noble, so you can save yourself the breath, master. Although I might represent a king, I'm still just a warrior myself. Plus, my boss hates formality."

"Of course, Official Fadelio, I understand. Please excuse me, Official Fadelio," Rimaq answered, and used repeated bows to prove that he indeed hadn't understood anything. As Fadelio buried his head in his hands, Rimaq stretched his head towards the back room. "KYUNYAAAA! Where is the tea for Official Fadelio! Excuse me Official Fadelio, the boy is always a bit slow. KYUNYA!"

Erratic, the craftsman's head swerved between the king's official and the back, answered by a clatter. It appeared as if the youngster who had led them inside struggled with this master Rimaq as much as Fadelio did.

"Excuse me, may I introduce myself?" Brym asked into the confusion. At first, Rimaq's body jerked over in fright, but once he saw the foreigner's face as well as his outlandish clothes, he began to frown.

"Yes, who're you?" he asked in a rough tone to belie his previous servility. What proper man would ever wear pants after all? Fadelio had warned the kid about it, but Brym didn't 'feel supported', as he said.

"Please excuse me, master Rimaq. my name is Brymstock Fastgrade, merchant under King Corco's employ." To Fadelio, Brym's plan was clear: If he introduced himself as someone of low status, he would lower the distance and get the craftsman to relax. This time however, the clever Brym might have miscalculated. Although the introduction was simple enough, the craftsman pointed an accusatory finger at the young merchant.

"Don't lie to me, stranger! How could a king ever hire an ordinary merchant under his employ, less said of a foreigner! Please excuse me, official Fadelio, I do not know why the boy would let him in, but I will remove this vermin at once."

"Stop damnit!" Fed up with the nonsense, Fadelio shouted at the commoner who had started to bow again. He really should have left this job to his sister. For a while, silence entered the room as a dark-skinned brat sneaked between them with their tea. His tray clattered from his shaking hands. While the individual cups were put on the table, Brym took a seat while Fadelio shot a stern look at the master.

"Master Rimaq, Brymstock is a close aide to King Corco. Be aware that the king makes no distinction between commoner or noble. All that matters to him is someone's ability, and whether or not they can serve his people. I would appreciate if you would not insult Brym any further, or you'll have to deal with me, understood?"

Although he didn't raise his voice further, the warrior's frame was enough to make anyone change their opinion. As was his icy tone, really.

"Understood," Rimaq answered, slumped into his own chair.

"The tea is not bad, by the way." Brym said from the side after he had taken a quiet sip. An eyebrow raised, Fadelio also took a seat and looked down his murky brown water. Not only the color was unappealing. Like a true product of the Earth, the 'tea' had the natural smell of rotten leaves. Of course he knew the reason, and it wasn't that Arguna's craftsmen didn't have any money. All the good tea from the Isles or Chutwa would only be sold to the nobles. Even if they could pay double, even ten times, the commoners wouldn't get any. In years passed, smuggle operations between warriors and commoners had been tolerated. However, even those loopholes had been closed once the Ancestral Hall had taken power in Arguna. Even though he knew what to expect from Medala's local tea blends, Fadelio clenched his teeth and took a tiny sip.

"Yes, it is quite refined," he lied.

"This servant is glad my tea is to Official Fadelio's tastes," Rimaq said, without even blushing. Maybe the paper maker wasn't limited by the ban. Maybe he was just a cheapskate. He still hadn't acknowledged Brym ever since he had been shouted down. Still, at least it seemed like Brym's well-timed intervention had calmed the man enough for a proper conversation. Plus, Fadelio didn't have to actually like the man to fulfill his purpose here.

"So what can this servant do for the King of the South?" the craftsman asked while he rubbed his hands, no doubt in hopes for a large, lucrative order. Thankful to be back on track, Fadelio put down the cup of muddy water.

"King Corcopaca has spent much of his year to get used to the local customs of the south, and to make a positive influence on his new people. A good part of his efforts have been spent on education, and the arts. Both will require a large amount of paper, which is why I am here. They say you are not only an exceptional paper maker, but also one of the best scroll binders in the city."

At the mention of work, Rimaq grew a grin and his tiny eyes began to sparkle. To Fadelio, it looked like the dirty shine of money. "Of course, nothing would be dearer to this servant than to fulfill the king's mission. How many scrolls does the king require?" the craftsman asked and grabbed piece of paper from his back, to jut down the king's order.

"No, you don't understand. Why would we buy paper here, when we would have to send it through half a dozen estates before we get there? Apart from the trouble involved in a border crossing, wouldn't it be much cheaper to produce it locally?"

"This servant presumed that the local craftsmen of the south had neither the skill to fulfill the king's specifications, nor the capacity to produce the volume the king would need." Confident in hi skills, the craftsman still smiled.

"Exactly," Fadelio leaned back, "which is why the king wants you to move down south with us and relocate to Saniya."

Again the paper maker's eyes grew large, even larger than they had when he accused Brym. "Impossible! Official Fadelio, I am a servant of the city! A servant of the courts under the ancestors! How could I ever dare leave their employ!?"

"You're not bound to anyone. Don't forget you're just a craftsman, nothing more. You pay no taxes to the local lords, you aren't registered with them, and you have no obligation to them. Anything you do is of your own free will, and according to the laws of Medala, no one can hold you back if you decide to move."

"Still, to leave my home, without my family-"

"Your family can come as well, of course. We will also provide you a new house, a better one than this." He looked around the clean, but plain walls. While the warrior had checked the spartan interior, Rimaq's will had firmed up. He answered the request with a decisive shake of his head.

"Even so, it is impossible. Please do not make things impossible for this servant."

Again Fadelio got fed up with the grovelling master. More and more he understood why Corco wanted to abandon the ancient rites. The paper maker couldn't have hidden his unwillingness worse if he had tried. Orders of authority wouldn't work, so he was only left with temptations of gold.

"Brym, you brought the paper?"

"Ah, sure," the brat said, still a smile on his face from all that terrible tea. He put down the almost empty cup and opened the leather bag around his shoulder. From inside he pulled a pristine, rectangular piece of paper, white as snow. Not the gray mess of Arguna of course, the eternal snow of the Sallqata Mountains.

"What is this?" the paper maker asked in confusion. For the first time he showed an earnest look in his eyes, not one of greed, fear or contempt.

"It's paper of course, paper created by the craftsmen of Saniya."

Between his steady fingers, Rimaq picked up the piece of paper, before he rubbed over its edges and its face. With never-ending patience, Fadelio watched as the paper maker held it against the light of the small window his house ha been allowed. Then the craftsman ripped off a corner piece and rubbed it to crumbs. In the end, he even smelled the paper and put a piece in his mouth, only to spit it to the floor after three thorough chews. Maybe some court etiquette wasn't too bad every now and then, Fadelio thought as he suppressed his frown.

"Impossible." Eyes agape like never before, the paper maker stared back up from his thorough inspection. "How has this been made?"

"It's good, right?" Fadelio tried to confirm.

"It is whiter than sheep skin. Even thickness and very sturdy. Where did Official Fadelio acquire it? Which master has developed new techniques?"

"I told you, it's right out of Saniya," the warrior grinned. "You want to learn this technique? Then you will have to move."

Still unconvinced, calculation returned into Rimaq's face as his eyes narrowed again.

"Then... what happens if I decline?"

"Ahaha, don't worry. We won't make life difficult for you for no reason. If we can't win you over, we will just go visit the next most talented paper maker in Arguna, and ask him if he's interested. Once we have our quotas filled, we won't need to bother you anymore. Don't worry though, even if we produce in the south, you will still get to see more of our paper, so you can learn. With the help of the merchant you so despise," Fadelio pointed at Brym, "this sort of paper will soon flood Arguna's market, and replace all competition."

Once the final word was spoken, Rimaq's eyes began to flit around the room again, trapped in fear like he had been at the beginning of their conversation. At this point the outcome was clear. If Fadelio had read the craftsman's character correctly, he would never make a choice against silver.

__________________________

"And the others wouldn't mind if we keep recruiting like this? The other kings I mean," Brym asked as he squinted his eyes against the sunlight. While they walked down the road, away from the paper maker's shop, a grin spread over Fadelio's face.

"Saniya has somewhere between nine and ten thousand citizens right now. No one has ever bothered with a reliable census in Arguna, but the city must have at least one hundred times that. Most of those are simple workers, but the next biggest group is craftsmen. If we don't make noise, the great lords and ancestors behind the walls won't even notice that a few dozen of their precious servants are gone."

"Still, even if the numbers don't matter, I doubt the other kings would just play along, would they?"

"True, but theoretically, we're not breaking any laws here, unspoken or otherwise. And if someone in the triumvirate wants to change the rules… let's say I have an understanding with them. More on that later," he said with a sneaky look around. One could never be careful enough in Arguna, as spies were everywhere. Case in point, he could spot one of them jog towards him from a side alley. Luckily, it was one of theirs. They waited until the man came to a stop right before him, breath even and posture straight like a soldier. Only the sweat on his face showed that he had gone through any sort of strain.

"Young master, there is a message from young miss Inri," the spy said as he held a tiny paper scroll out to his master. His brows raised, Fadelio broke the seal of the ghost warriors – a raven pecking a snake – and unfurled the document. After a few seconds of tense silence, he looked back up, a tight feeling in his chest.

"We need to get back to the palace," he said towards Brym, "Pacha has stopped being an idiot."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

132 Secret Alliance

When they rushed past the guards of the inner city gates, Fadelio found Inri ready and waiting for them. With crossed arms, Fadelio's sister stood across the road, to keep an unobstructed view of the gate. Of course, the girl had changed quite a bit since they had last met. Gone was the practical, martial style of robe. Now she wore a more feminine type of dress. Otherwise she wouldn't be allowed inside the inner city. How could a woman be allowed to dress in such scandalous fashion, after all?

Really, Fadelio was glad about his sister's change. If nothing else, her clothing showed that she had been reintegrated into noble society. After half a year of hardship, his family's exile was over. As soon as her eyes met her big brother's, she became all action. As a smile spread over her face she rushed towards them.

"Good evening, brother. Welcome back!" In spite of Inri's words, her tone was formal. Out of habit, she might have still been worried about strangers listening in, but time was of the essence. Fadelio only nodded, before he moved on to more important issues.

"What is going on? What happened in the palace?" he asked. Refocused on the essentials, Inri began to frown.

"We should talk while we walk. I will explain on the way to the palace."

"I would like to know about thee happenings in the palace as well," Brym added after they had started to move. "Not to belay the point, but I still don't know a thing. Fadelio wouldn't tell me anything beyond 'trouble at the palace'."

"Well, the message didn't tell me much anyways. All it says is that Pacha and Amautu have combined forces in the palace," the warrior excused his actions.

"King Pacha has called an exceptional Triumvirate meeting," Inri smothered their quarrel before it could begin.

"Wait, what? I thought the Triumvirate only met every ten days?" Since he had arrived in Arguna only four days ago, Brym still wasn't accustomed to all the rules of Medalan court politics.

"No, that's only a formality. In theory, any king or his representative can schedule a new meeting whenever he wants, so long as he holds first seat and there's support from one further king."

"So if the meeting is normal, why call it an exception? How come anyone was surprised by it?"

"The kings are not supposed to meet like this," Inri answered. "Under normal circumstances, a king or representative will respect all fellow kings. There is an implicit rule of conduct to schedule long in advance and inform all kings, out of courtesy. This meeting has been announced on very short notice, and brother has not been informed at all. Though I am sure that King Pacha's forces would tell us later that they tried, and failed, to reach us."

"Setting the meeting when we were out of the inner city wasn't a coincidence." Brym added. Good, even if he wasn't used to Medalan politics, the kid was a fast learner as always.

"So what's the meeting about then? Your letter didn't say." Fadelio asked his sister.

"I'm sorry, brother. I really do not know. The palace is not our territory and ever since the fiasco during the succession, security in the silver palace has been increased even further. All we know is that a meeting is about to start. Unless we want to be blindsided by the results, we should at least be present."

"And by 'we' you mean me, right? You're not tying to get into the palace, are you?" The warrior raised a single brow.

Although she looked unwilling, Inri took half a step back. "The palace is no place for a girl, even less so an unmarried one." She might have been headstrong, but his sister wasn't stupid. They would have to play by the rules of Arguna, and beat their enemies at their own game. Anything else would only harm their king.

"So what about me?" Brym asked, as he looked back and forth between the silent conflict between the siblings.

"You?" Fadelio stared back with a growing grin, "Brym, you still remember how to do protocol, right?"

__________________________

As soon as he burst into the triumvirate hall, Fadelio knew something was wrong. Although they still sat on their individual sides of the table, the two siblings Pacha and Amautu had moved much closer than before. While Amautu held his constant smile, Pacha talked in a friendly manner. At least the two minute takers to their sides gave Fadelio some hope. They were still careful around each other, so at least they hadn't entered into a full-blown alliance yet.

Even better, as soon as Amautu spotted them walk in, he bowed to his uncle Pacha and stood to meet them halfway. Like a shadow, Amautu's massive minute taker followed. Like so often in these past months, Fadelio was impressed by Amautu's adaptability. After his own first use of a personal stenographer, the other kings had brought their own the very next meeting. However, only Amautu had been smart enough to have his minute taker double up as a body guard. It was a good move, as for the northern king, the silver palace was was as much enemy territory as it was for Fadelio.

"Official Fadelio! This king is joyful official managed to appear on time for the meeting," Amautu said, his smile still stuck on his face. Although he didn't want to admit it, Amautu really was the most suitable successor to Chaupic among all the princes. Of course he would never consider him more suitable than Corco as Emperor. In terms of vision and insight, a world of knowledge separated them.

"It is indeed, King Amautu. King can imagine this official's surprise after he heard of this exceptional meeting. Though it is strange that this official was not informed. It seems like the messenger must have gotten lost."

"Ahaha, that must be the case." Only Amautu's voice laughed.

"Further, this official must congratulate King Amautu on this joyous occasion. King seems to have reconciled with his brother." For the fraction of a second, he could see Amautu's mouth twitch. Soon however, the prince's face returned back to its waxen state.

"At some point, old grudges need to be buried for the benefit of the people. After all, even the ancients tell us to honor our brothers and treat them as equals."

"Sure they do. Though this official wonders, could King Corco not be considered a brother as well? This official felt that contact between the Kingdoms of the North and South has been very fruitful. Without the king's knowledge, quite a few of the northern lords have contacted Saniya to receive more of the goods we have shipped into the northern kingdom before. Even then, we have always shown respect and informed King Amautu before any deal was struck."

"And as a gracious king, this lord has acquiesced each time," Amautu frowned. His lords' desire for Saniya's products must have been quite the thorn in his side. "Today handles a different matter, so old favors should not be mixed in with new problems. Besides," he lowered his voice, "After how well the palace security has been enforced, no outsiders can see anything beyond its walls. Official Fadelio does not expect that his own warriors managed to learn of the meeting on their own, does he?"

His last words spoken, the King left behind a baffled Fadelio. His face still a crooked, prideful smile, he walked back to the seat of the northern king.

Under Pacha's vitriolic stare, Fadelio went to his own seat. He wouldn't even try to greet Pacha. Ever since their last confrontation, the air between them had been poisoned. Only the central king's persistent injury had prevented outright combat between them. Only for a second did Pacha look away, and even then it was to stare down Brym. Ever since the third regular Triumvirate Meeting, Corco's Uncle had tried to intimidate his minute takers like this. Brym being Brym, he pretended a light shiver before he sat down and tucked his head between his shoulders. Be it a pompous salesman or one more face in the crowd, the kid played all the roles well.

"So, is everyone here then?" the King of the Center asked into the round.

"Ahaha, King Pacha forgets that the ceremonial official has yet to arrive," Amautu added.

"Where is he then!? Damn useless priests, once I'm Emperor, they'll-"

As Pacha was about to reveal his grand plan for the destruction of the priesthood, one of its representatives marched through the door. He offered an open smile to Fadelio and a calm nod to Amautu, before he moved to his proper position, the table's point opposite King Pacha. Only just did Fadelio prevent his own laughter. He was sure the priest had waited right outside the door, until the youngest king said something incriminating again. He had done that a lot over the past few months. After the gong sounded, the priest spoke his now familiar words.

"Once more the kings unite, to decide the fate of their people. As the first exceptional Meeting of Kings, today's speaker shall be King Pachacutec, King of the Center. Blessed with the authority of emperor, the speaker shall propose measures to further the greatness inherent within the immortal Empire of Medala. Ratification of the proposal shall depend upon agreement from one of the remaining two kingdoms. Word lies with the speaker."

Before the gong had sounded for a second time, Pacha already stood.

"First, since there are some who are not initiated in the topic," again Pacha's stare nailed Fadelio into his seat, "this king will first introduce the exceptional chaos which has caused this exceptional meeting.

"We all know about the recent trouble in the southern estate of Cashan. When Lord Iqtana Villca moved on, he left the house without a clear heir, with many princes ready to fight for the seat of patriarch. While the King of the South should have been duty-bound to reduce the confusion and settle the issue posthaste, so far King Corco's reign has been an abject failure. Although it is something to be expected from a bastard child-"

"I dare you to repeat that, cripple!" Although Pacha, in his infinite pettiness, had always tried to provoke Fadelio, this time was worse then ever. Already fed up with the dubious meeting and secret alliance between the kings, he lost his patience. As he stood his fist rattled the heavy table. He would make the fake king back off in fear again, just like last time.

"Stop! It is not Official Fadelio's turn to speak!" the priest intervened. "These are hallowed halls. No blood shall flow here. Since word is with King Pachacutec, he shall continue his speech."

For a moment, Fadelio stared daggers into the priest, but then his senses returned to him. If he started a fight with Pacha, he would be the one to suffer, even if he won. He was only a warrior after all. Maybe the priest had just saved his life with his intervention. As he sat back down, he observed Pacha's frown, and understood that this was just what the brat had hoped for. Rather than be intimidated, he might have tried to force a confrontation this time. Pacha really did stop being an idiot. Fadelio would have to be careful and not underestimate the false king in the future.

"As mentioned, the King of the South has failed to administer his region. Even after almost a year, succession in Cashan, one of the pivotal territories within Medala, still has not concluded. Even worse, the eldest son and nominal heir of House Villca, young master Epunamo, has been denied support from the southern king. Instead, the king seems to have thrown his lot in with a vicious bandit. A man who not only killed the second heir of House Villca with a vicious back stab, but also a man who attempted an assassination on Epunamo. An assassination in King Corco's own castle no less. This barbarity needs to be stopped, right now! If the King of the South lacks the strength or will to secure peace in his region, the King of the Center will."

Armed with his smirk, Pacha stared at Fadelio, but this time the warrior wouldn't get baited. Although the king wouldn't be able to remove his mortal foe from the Triumvirate today, he would have no trouble securing his main objective. Of that the warrior had no doubt.

"Thus, this king has decided to command an army of warriors under his rule and the rule of his subordinate houses, to march south, pacify the region and guarantee young Master Epunamo's ascension to family patriarch of House Villca. As is law for all internal military actions of the kings, the King of the Center requests confirmation from the Triumvirate Meeting for his plans."

"The King of the North confirms the proposal," Amautu said in a flat voice.

"With King Amautu's confirmation, the proposal has been ratified. If Official Fadelio wishes to add anything to the official documents, he can do so now."

"On behalf of the King of the South, this official has only one thing to add." Even though there were many things to be said about Pacha's biased views and outright lies, there was no benefit in good arguments now. Instead, anything he said could become ammunition for his enemies later. Still, he would make one thing abundantly clear. No matter what agreement Amautu and Pacha had entered into, the south wouldn't just roll over.

"Although the south cannot prevent the formation of an army, it will never allow foreign troops to march through its lands. Thus, King Pacha shall evade Qarasi Castle, and find another path south. He will not be granted access to King Corco's lands."

Although his wrath bubbled from his chest into his voice, there was little reaction from the kings. Amautu only offered a half-hearted shrug, while Pacha showed that snide grin he was so good at.

"If the south is not willing to comply, the center will have to use force to make King Corco abide by the rules of the Triumvirate."

Although he very much felt like breaking the bastard's other arm, Fadelio would have to leave the fun to others for now. From Brym he had heard what sort of fortress Dedrick had built across the Narrows. After he left them a dry "Good luck," the warrior left the room without a single look back. They needed to send message home as soon as possible, and they needed to adjust their strategy in Arguna. Even now, when war was upon them, the political theater would still continue.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

133 First Invention

For the second time in a month, Corco made his way over to the blast furnace on Chukru Island. He hadn't, in fact, become addicted to the heat. Rather, after the inception of the blast furnace, there was another important milestone to celebrate, one the king would have to be present for. Ronnie was busy after all, which only left Corco able to identify their newest creation.

"I'll be fine from here, Quato. You'll make sure no one enters for now." Although he tried to hide it, Corco could see the relief in his new attendant's face. Even before the banquet, the king had felt troubled by Tama's influence over his inner circle.

Of course, the girl had proven loyal when she had stopped Epunamo's warrior and she had fulfilled all of his orders without question. Still, her headstrong attitude and cleverness did little to endear her to those around. Tama liked doing things alone and had a hard time trusting anyone. Plus, her and Atau were like oil and water.

To solve some of the issues, he had sent her out on missions away from Saniya. Away from the ghost warriors, she would have to work together with his other allies instead. After all, Tama wasn't malicious, only distrustful.

At the same time, Corco would strengthen his own relations with the ghost warriors bit by bit. For good reason, the warriors were still more loyal to Fadelio's family than they were to him. Although a bit of contact wouldn't solve the problem on a fundamental level, it was a good start.

His future plans were interrupted by a wall of heat. No wonder Quato had been glad to be left outside. As always, the city's new foundry was a sauna. Even now when the flames had been extinguished, the heat was still enough to steal Corco's breath.

At least cultivators were sturdy, so he could hold out with only an amber mask and a leather apron. Though he really didn't know how the others did it, most of all Asiro. Even though the red glow was gone and the entire hall had into a play of shadow's, the king was still spotted by the blacksmith as soon as he entered.

"Asiro greets King Corco." Asiro's sloppy bow brought his head down to Corco's level for a moment. To the king, this was another reason he wouldn't let his warriors inside here. His father's old servants would never allow this level of disrespect. In fact, the blacksmith was by far the most casual commoner Corco had even met, but he knew it wasn't a sign of disrespect. Rather, this seemed to be the man's natural attitude, which suited Corco just right.

Since the foundry would be one of the most critical projects in any budding economy, his previous self had spent a lot of time on various plans and articles, to remember all the details he could. At the same time, it had also been one of the first pieces of knowledge he had written down back in Arcavia. For such vital information, he couldn't rely on his memory, no matter how good it was. Really, if he could be considered an expert in any piece of engineering, it would be the massive stove before him. As a result, he had spent a lot of time here, to work out the details with Asiro and the group of local stonemasons. His frequent visits had only further eased the blacksmith's attitude.

"Is it finally time to check on our latest build? Looking forward to all the waste." Corco rubbed his hands.

Even after almost a year of construction, the foundry was far from completed. They were limited by their experience and practical skills, but even more by their lack of good materials and tools. Compared to what he had seen in diagrams online, their furnace was crude, cold and wasteful. Still, if today was a success, it would get them leaps further.

"The coals have been out for a couple hours already, so the heat should be much better with the coke oven. Honestly, downstairs smells pretty bad. We've aired the place out though, so it should be fine."

"Then let's get to it," the king smiled in anticipation. A loud whistle from his guide made his shoulders jerk, but the blacksmith was too busy screaming at his numerous apprentices. He wouldn't notice the king's faux-pas.

"Hey, Qura, Mallku! We're looking through the refuse! Come along and give me a hand here!"

"Qura (Mallku) greets King Corcopaca (Corco)!" they said in stereo, before they shared a vicious stare.

Of course, the mighty king wouldn't be interested in the petty squabbles of commoners. He had to sift through some by-products. Hopping from one leg to the other like a kid, Corco followed the commoners down a wide berth of stairs which would lead them underground. As soon as they stepped downstairs, Corco could smell the tarry stink that pervaded the cellar. To him, it was the smell of progress. Soon they were confronted with the massive coke oven they had built to supply the never-satiated beast upstairs. Of course, all of them knew that the king hadn't come for the oven itself.

"To be frank, I still don't understand why we couldn't just vent all of the smoke outside. This sort of stink is really too much." Asiro moaned as they walked past the over itself and followed its exhaust.

"Yeah, for now it's still pretty bad, but that's only because our tools aren't precise enough. The only reason this place smells is because our pipes leaked. Once we get the leaking under control, you'll be astonished by the results." The king said as he looked over to the side, to the pipe they had followed along. Inside this pipe would flow contents no less valuable than the steel produced up above. After a few steps they reached a portion where the walls had been opened. Without soul to hold them back, the waters of the Mayura could flow inside, to envelope the lacquered pipe.

"How's our first cooling section going? Any leaks?" To the king's words, one of the workers stepped forward. Like an idiot, Qura bowed so deep his head almost dipped into the water.

"To answer king, the lacquer held well around the water itself, but everywhere else, there were numerous small bursts from the heat. I apologize for my incompetence."

"Can you get up?" Corco frowned. "We expected that much. Our pipes don't really fit together, they're made from simple iron and we're only using lacquer for now. Still many improvements to be made. Today, I'm only interested in the final step of our distillation."

Although Qura raised his head, his eyes were dull. No doubt he hadn't understood a word.

"You're training them, are you?" Corco raised a brow towards Asiro.

"Ahaha." From his master's vicious hit, Qura's head bowed again. At first Mallku snickered, but Asiro's stare calmed him down just like his companion. "They're a bit slow, but they're good kids. I'll bring them up to speed as fast as I can."

For now, Corco wouldn't bother with the training of the apprentices. He already had too much on his plate anyways. Instead, he moved on, both with his steps and with his explanations.

"You know, if we get to fix the leakage issues, you wouldn't be so dismissive towards this side project anymore. The stuff we pump out in the air around here makes for perfect fuel Pump that into our blast furnace and we can get the temperature a couple hundred degrees higher, easily."

"Really? In that case, we should begin to use it right away! I would not mind a slight smell. The foundry can't get much worse either way," he heard the enthusiastic voice of the blacksmith behind him. At the same time, Corco looked to the chimney which would carry some of the expensive gases out of the building.

"We can't," the saddened king shook his head. "What do you think happens when there is a leak and the gas ignites? I don't want to kill all of my blacksmiths now that you're just getting the hang of things."

"Understood." Even though he had heard about his own death, the blacksmith still sounded calm.

"Anyways, we'll have to take apart this entire thing after today. Scrub away all the tar before it can gunk up the machinery. Then we gotta take a closer look at the individual parts, to see if we overlooked any damage. With any luck, we can soon start to replace parts."

"Wouldn't that be a bit hasty? We have only just finished our first burn with the equipment," Asiro said.

"Wait, do we have to take this thing apart after every run?" Mallku whined. As Corco turned to face his subjects, his shoulders dropped.

"Yes, we have to do this after every burn. I'm not taking any risks here, and we're only in the experimental phase anyways. Plus, with how little coal and iron we have available right now, we can only fire the foundry for a couple days every month. What are you gonna do the rest of the time? That long gap in between uses is perfect. You can all go to school, to learn more theory, while you can also clean the place and take apart the individual pieces, to further improve efficiency."

"King Corcopaca, cleaning is fine, but I don't think the school-"

"We've stored the by-products in there," Asiro interrupted Mallku, and pointed towards a door in the corner of the room. Right after, he presented his apprentice with another stern look.

"Then please," Corco said.

"Please follow me, King Corcopaca," apprentice number two said, bowed and rushed ahead. Once they had entered, the king saw himself confronted with the condensation of their work. A box, and several large barrels, as well as a table and some glasses on top. Again he smiled, and removed his mask. Not only would he need to see colors for this, he would also need his nose.

"This is everything?" he asked Asiro.

A look over the blacksmith's shoulder revealed the young apprentices.

"Everything these servants could find inside the compartments of king's design, King Corcopaca," Qura bowed.

"Yes, getting all of the gunk together was a lot of work!" Mallku added.

"Okay, that's enough showing off. Go clean up, we'll need to get the furnace ready for another run tomorrow," Asiro shooed them away.

"Of course, master."

"These servants will excuse themselves, King Corcopaca!"

While Asiro had fooled around with his servants, Corco had started to judge the various substances before him. First, he found a box filled with tiny white granules. Although there was no doubt about the value of the ammonium sulfate, Corco's eyes dragged his body over to the waist-high steel drums behind.

Right away the king opened the first barrel, to find a viscous, black liquid.

"King Corco, how does it look? Did we find what you were searching?" Asiro asked.

"This first one is... tar, probably. It's not worthless, but not what we're looking for."

As Corco stepped up to the second barrel, his fingers began to tingle.

"The second barrel should be the one from the last step of distillation," Asiro explained.

With a tremble and a frown, Corco opened the second lid. At once his eyes grew and his frown smoothed.

"This one..." Hopeful, the king stared at the brown liquid. Although it wasn't all too clear, when he swirled the liquid around, he could see an iridescent shimmer on the surface. Even before that, the smell had already reached his nose. All by itself the distinctive smell of gasoline introduced itself to him, for the first time in this life.

"You're sure this is from the separating funnel?" he asked.

"Yeah, should be. I mean, that's how we put them in here at least."

Even though there was only a sliver of the liquid at the bottom of the barrel, Corco began to grin.

"Next time we label them. Still, if you're sure, then I know what this is."

Corco picked up one of the glasses from the table and began to scoop up some of the precious liquid.

"I think, he smiled from ear to ear, we just purified the world's first glass of benzene. Well, technically it's BTX, and technically I'm mostly interested in the T for now."

"King Corco, what-"

"Asiro, go ahead and label the rest of this stuff, I'll look at it later. This one takes priority! I'll see you tomorrow!" Like a whirlwind, the king swept through the underground halls of the forge and left, together with his newest treasure.

Behind him, he heard a whimper of "but I can't read," but at this point, he had more important things to do. No matter what, Ronnie had to see this right away. If everything went according to plan, they would soon create something new.

So far, all throughout his life, he had only copied products from others. Soap from Arcavia, porcelain from Chutwa, none of it had been anything new. For the first time, Saniya would create a unique product in this world, the first of many.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

134 Cheat Codes

Lined up along the walls of the room were several large tanks of metal and glass, connected through various pipes and tubes. Interspersed between the machinery were fire places as well as tables and shelves lade with bottles and bowls of glass and ceramic. Some were filled with liquids or powders, while others still awaited their purpose. Most people would have considered the room bizarre. However, the two figures in its center were absolutely not within that group. To them, this was the greatest room in the world.

"Are we sure this is the best way to handle things, master Corco?" Ronnie said with a look towards the shiny new copper still before them. When they had set sail for Medala, they had loaded up a good number of still from the Arcavian mainland, but they had underestimated just how much distillation they would need to do beyond alcohol production. This one was part of the first new batch, handcrafted by masters in Arguna and transported south.

"Sure it is. What could be a better use of our time than this?" Corco asked with a look at the still's spout. Out of the opening dribbled a colorless liquid. Even through their heavy cloth masks, it still filled the room with the smell of gasoline. Rather, it should be the smell of toluene, or so the king hoped. For now, they had no way of knowing until they tried.

"...well, for one, there would be the fertilizer I will need to have prepared in a few months. You have made a lot of promises to a lot of people and somehow, I do not believe the lords will keep to the alliance if they cannot get their hands on their miracle wheat-growth substrate."

"Don't you have apprentices to deal with that?" Corco looked over to the chemist. Even beyond the mask and the beard, his eyes were enough to prove his annoyance.

"Of course I do, but they are still young, and they have come almost wholly unprepared. So far, they cannot even read or write. How will I use them if I have to explain every single label every single time? This should be the most important place in the entire kingdom right now. Could you not have sent anyone more qualified?"

"Like who?" Corco shrugged his shoulder. "The only people who can read our writing were educated by me. That's no more than a hundred people so far, and they all have important work to do themselves. No matter how ground breaking this sort of work is, we'll need most of the literate working on administration. That's where they will need those writing skills the most."

"Medalan letters, was it?" Ronnie raised an eyebrow to coincide with his voice. In response, the king put up his hands in defense of his lie.

"Well, okay. In that one instance, I might have embellished the truth just a little bit. But now you've seen the orthographic nightmare that is actual Medalan writing, right? I had to modernize it. I mean, how would we ever print something in a language with thousands of individual letters?"

And what better way to further distinguish commoners from nobles than with a separate set of books? he thought

Rather than acknowledge the king's genius foresight, the world's first chemist looked back into the laboratory, over to all the work he had been forced to abandon over the past few days.

"Either way, there is plenty of work beyond the fertilizer... and most of it could never be handled by a fresh apprentice. I was already swamped with work before you burst into the room."

"Like what?" Corco asked with his attempt at an innocent face. His attempt at appeasement was foiled, either by his mask or Ronnie's indifference.

"Well, beyond the batch production of lye and the new ammunition for your soldiers, I still need to finish Saniya's other 'first original product.' How many first original products can we possibly have all at once? Do you understand how much time I have already sunk into that?" Ronnie's arms flailed around as he looked over to a large metal box

"Aaah, don't care about the vanillin. You weren't really getting anywhere anyways, were you?" A slap on the back was Corco's best attempt at consolation.

"But I am convinced that we are only one step away from oxidizing the lignin. If I get a few more days with the procedures, I can fine-tune the instruments and we can get our first test batch done right away."

Although Ronnie sounded sincere, Corco had heard him give similar impressions before. From his own experience with chemistry, there would always be 'one more complication', so he was a lot less optimistic.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Still, for now the banquet is over, so new flavors are a low priority. Plus," he looked at a capped bottle to the side, a liquid produced from the first substance distilled out of the original BTX. "the benzene will help with that. Once we produce enough benzene, we can use it to make the vanillin without a complicated oxidation process."

"Wait, so all that work was useless? Do you understand how long I've worked on this?" Ronnie's eyes grew large in panic.

"Ahaha, don't worry about it. You'll need oxidation often enough in the future, so it's good to get some practice in either way. Plus, the temperature control helped with the other products too, right?"

With small nods, Ronnie did his best to convince both of them that his time hadn't been wasted.

"Indeed. Without the work so far, creating the aniline or the potassium dichromate would have been impossible. Still, our work could have been much more efficient."

"Yeah, I know," the king sighed. "This is my fault, really. I screwed up some of the ordering."

"In truth, all of our steps have taken much longer than we thought they would," Ronnie said, while he checked the amount of liquid they had extracted from the still so far.

"It always looks so much easier on paper... anyways, this isn't an exact science. At least not yet."

"And on that note: This should suffice."

With his gloved hand, Ronnie closed the spout which had dripped out the toluene before. He took one last look at the thermometer built into the still, before he moved the glass off its plate.

"You sure that's enough?" Corco asked.

"Considering the amounts of aniline we could prepare, this should be fairly accurate, yes."

Careful not to spill any of the valuable substance, Ronnie transferred the toluene over to a scale, to measure its weight.

"Weight without the glass should be... seventeen point five," he said, and Corco promptly began to write down notes on the paper besides the construction. For now they were all still amateurs, so exact documentation would be all the more important.

"In that case, we'll need almost all of the toluene, huh?"

Although Ronnie nodded, he seemed more concerned with all the advanced chemicals lined up on the table before them.

"This is far more complex than anything else we have done so far. There are so many steps here, at least some of the chemicals we have produced these days should have use beyond this, shouldn't they?"

"Of course they do," Corco answered. Meanwhile, Ronnie measured out and added the aniline and water, before he stirred the solution with a glass rod. "But for a long time, we'll be very limited on materials. This stuff is rare, so we'll have to make it count. We can't waste our time on less important stuff."

"Is that so," the chemist's unimpressed voice rang out. While Corco did his best to prove the importance of their undertaking, Ronnie had suspended the vial with the mixture in a container of warm water. It wouldn't take long to bring the mixture up to temperature, since part of it had only just left the heat of the still.

"Yeah, that's so. You really don't get what we're doing here, do you? This is history! It's beyond history, actually! It's the future! Just so you know, if we get this right- careful!" While the king geared up for another round of gloating, the chemist had begun to move a piece of paper filled with an orange powder over to their work station. The loud noise shook Ronnie's whole body. Only his fingers could just stay calm enough to not spill any of the precious contents.

"Could you not do that!" he chided the king with a stern look. "Master Corco, do you understand how long it has taken me to make this salt!"

"You're aware that there's chromium in this?" Corco asked, undeterred. "You really should be more careful with this stuff. It's pretty dangerous."

Over his face mask, the chemist stared at the king with narrowed eyes.

"Master Corco, this master chemist is well aware of the dangers. On your insistence, we have been forced to wear these masks and gloves. The rooms are open and well ventilated, in defiance of any code of secrecy we might find useful for the treasures hidden here. With all these measures in place, we should be as safe as we can be. Rather, it would be overreactions like that which would cause accidents to occur."

"Aaah, sorry about that," Corco waved off Ronnie's concerns. "Still, you can never be careful enough."

"And yet this master has dealt with chemical products for most of his life, for decades. In fact, my practical experience goes back far beyond your own first contact with any alchemical substances. In this very laboratory, I have dealt with all manner of hazards. By the lords, a few steps over we attempt to produce a more potent form of gunpowder! This here is hardly the most harmful substance I have dealt with, so please stand back and let me do my work."

His complaints spoken, the chemist dropped the orange powder into the warm solution.

"I said I'm sorry, didn't I?" the king mumbled, while he watched the silent chemist stir the mixture again. Although a standstill had developed between the friends, it was soon broken.

"Ahahahahaha!! There it is! Show me the money! Robin Hood! Nwctheconstruct!"

Again Ronnie's body jerked up, before he looked between the king and the purple solution, this time in confusion rather than anger.

"Yes, it's appearance is as you described it before, Master Corco," he said, and began to jot down his notes.

"You don't get it, do you?" Corco asked Ronnie, a dumb grin on his face.

"No, I do understand. It is purple dye. Very valuable," the chemist's voice was still flat, focused on his work. Annoyed by his friend's lack of enthusiasm, Corco's eyes narrowed. If Ronnie didn't want to understand by himself, he would have to make him understand.

"It's not purple, you cretin. It's mauveine. Do you not get what sort of momentous occasion the synthetic production of purple dye is? You really shouldn't underestimate the power of prestige. Entire empires have been built on and funded by nothing but purple, like Carthage. That's how valuable this stuff is. Not to mention the diplomatic power! You think it's a coincidence that this is the royal color in both Arcavia and in Chutwa? Almost anywhere in the world, this is the color of the ruling class, just because of how rare it is in nature! A single line of purple cloth shows status and wealth. What kinds of concessions can we get from our neighbors for exporting it to them!? Imagine that, they'll thank us for the privilege of paying us hand over fist for our new dyes."

As the importance of their discovery began to dawn on him, Ronnie looked back to the king, his eyes filled with life again. "True. However, a small amount like this would not even be enough for the local nobility, would it?"

This time, the king's grin widened all the way to his ears. One finger raised, he decided to educate his pupil.

"Once we get the foundry running at full force, how much mauve do you think we can make from it?"

"I am unsure, but I am sure master Corco will enlighten me." By now Ronnie had drawn back from the table a bit, and dragged the king with him.

"Okay, here's an estimate for you then, a conservative one: Once we fine-tune our byproduct setup in the foundry, we can produce hundreds of liters of BTX every day. Do you have any idea how much dye that is? Plus, when we get some proper trade routes going, those blast furnaces are gonna run day and night! We will have enough mauve to flood any market! It's like an infinite money cheat, from nothing more than a byproduct of our steel production!"

"And then someone else comes along and takes it for themselves." Ronnie said in a dry voice. As so often when Corco got too carried away, the chemist played the voice of reason. In response, the king's eyes narrowed, but this time there was a coldness beyond anything Ronnie would have seen in years.

"Let them come, and try their best. There's a reason we've stuffed everything important on these islands. Don't worry, I already have my plans set up for potential spies. And if anyone tries to take my city simulation by force, they'll have to get through our armies first."

As if on cue, Quato entered their laboratory with a piece of paper in hand.

"King Corco, there is a message from the capital," he said. Proper as always, Quato only nodded towards Ronnie after Corco had taken the letter. Meanwhile, the king frowned at the appearance of his own seal in wax, the one he had left with Fadelio.

"This isn't the regular report, is it?" They would get a report from the capital every ten days to sum up the Triumvirate Meetings and other developments in Arguna, but he had read that one only three days ago.

"No, King Corco. The letter has been sent by a special runner, relayed through Qarasi Castle."

Without further delay, the king broke the seal and read the contents. While the tension in the laboratory rose, his eyes flitted across the message.

"Well... shit," the king concluded.

"Good news, I take it?" the chemist joked in turn.

"Could be worse." After a casual shrug, Corco tossed the top secret document to his chemist, who promptly closed the letter without a single look. "The bad news: Someone's coming to take our dye. The good news: We'll be fine. It's only Pacha."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

135 Preparations

Although he had received the message about his uncle's mad charge into the south, Corco wasn't all too worried for now. They were mere days away from winter and Pacha still hadn't assembled all of his troops either. For now, their intelligence network had done its job, and they had time to prepare. Thus, Corco made his way out of Chukru Island to check on his new troops.

"King Corco, this servant truly needs to protest. Beyond the walls is no longer safe, not without any further protection," Quato said as he followed along.

"Nonsense. This here is my land, and all the warriors on it are sworn to me. Plus, don't I have you guys around? The ghost warriors protect from the back, the wolf mercenaries from the front. If that wasn't enough, I wouldn't even be safe in the castle."

With confident strides, Corco marched through the gateway of Chukru Island and past Rapra Castle. On their way, Quato waved the two guards at the bridge towards them, as additional protection. Of course Corco knew that the ghosts didn't think much of Dedrick's mercenaries. Not only had some parts of the wolf mercenaries shown signs of insurrection before, they were also open about their loyalties to the king's money, rather than to his blood. To be honest, Corco would have rather seen either of them be loyal to his ideals.

To him, there wasn't much difference between the groups. Still, the differences in culture and attitude had created tension, and Corco could see those tensions in action now. By the time they left the outer city gates of Saniya, the king's entourage had increased to twelve people. Some of them were even dressed in simple commoner clothing, spies strewn into the city by Tama.

Although Corco was pretty sure they were doing their jobs wrong at this moment, he really didn't mind. At least this would give him a better idea of where 'his' ghosts were hidden in Saniya. Beyond the dry papers with names, addresses and missions he had received from Tama before, he could even put proper faces to names. As a result, he made sure to greet every last one of them. He would be damned if he would allow some unknown force to control his people.

By the time they were done with introductions, the air was filled with shouts and grunts, a field of soldiers before him, fresh for the picking. At last they had arrived at their goal, the physical training grounds of Corco's new armies. Since not a single place within the walls was big enough to house thousands of soldiers and their training regimen all at once, this place had been erected as an impromptu boot camp.

When the first batch of recruits had arrived outside the city, their first order had been to erect the wooden palisades which would limit them in scope and shield them from stranger's eyes. Even as someone with vague, amateurish knowledge of ancient warfare, Corco would always put emphasis on the engineering and construction abilities of his soldiers.

When they passed the entryway, the wolves of Dedrick returned a stare at the mass of intruders. Only when they spotted Corco did they calm down, and returned to their duties after a nod and a "boss". Truth be told, he felt far more at home here than with the ghosts, many of whom were still strangers to him. With the warriors here, Corco had fought several battles back in Arcavia, while the new recruits in the camp were commoners elevated to the status of warriors by him, reason enough to demand their loyalty for all their life.

As they marched along, a group of fresh recruits jogged past, sweat and gasps abound. Soon they saw other groups lined up in formation, as they learned to march and turn as a unit. If they wanted to keep rhythm in larger groups, they really needed some instruments.

"Quato, help me write something down. We'll need some instruments to help them with the march."

Of course Corco kept quiet about his own personal preference for the sort marching music in his memory. He had always liked the idea of marching music.

At last Corco's group marched up to an elevated square of earth, one among twelve in the center of the camp. Atop, two sons of Saniya stood opposed with gloved hands. While one circled the other, they threw jabs and feints, to gauge the other man's distance and reaction. Stood before the arena, he found two men. One was a sturdy looking Medalan, the other a tall Arcavian, the man he had been looking for.

"Hey Nahlen, how are the recruits doing?" When the mercenary turned, he held a frown on his face and breathed in, ready to attack whoever would dare disturb his duties. However, once he saw the king, his expression relaxed. For now, Corco wouldn't dare guess if the mercenary had been fine with Corco's interruption, or if he hid his true feelings.

"Greetings, King Corco. Sire's new training regimen has shown some very good effects on the new recruits. The men are also very quick to pick up on the unarmed fighting techniques King Corco has taught before. Still..." Again his frown returned, as he looked at another group of recruits who marched past with wooden sticks in their hands.

"Still what?" Corco smiled as he looked at the two fighters on the stage. The faster still circled around, in constant search of openings.

"Wouldn't it be better to have the commoners learn some cultivation instead? We spend most of our time trying to get the commoners up to speed. I mean, if they can't keep up with the rest of the army they'll be useless. And while the training and food are working well for normal folk, it still wastes more days than I'd like. Would be much faster if we could just bring them up to speed with cultivation... sire." Corco raised his hand to interrupt Quato's complain before the warrior could utter a single word. For now, they were close to war. For now, he had no time to deal with Nahlen's attitude.

"Yeah, that'd be the easy method, huh?" the king mused. "Still, this will have to do. At this moment, I can't allow any more cultivation. I can't take that sort of risk, not with my own people, and with my own lands."

"Why not? Wasn't sire very eager to teach the techniques to our men before?" Nahlen's eyes narrowed.

"Right, in small numbers this isn't a problem. The trouble comes when cultivation is the standard in our armies, and the number of cultivators increases too quickly."

"But when this servant was trained, King Corco spoke of the might of cultivation all the time. How the world would change should everyone learn it. What changed?" the man besides Nahlen said, despite Nahlen's frown. Paec had been part of the first batch of new recruits, the only batch Corco would allow to learn cultivation for now. Although Nahlen had been opposed to a Medalan assistant, this alone Corco had insisted on. He couldn't have every officer in his army be an Arcavian, could he?

"I had time to think, is what changed," Corco said. "I doubt I'm the smartest man alive. All in all, I wouldn't even make the top ten percent world wide. I'm nothing special, so how could I be the first to come up with this idea of universal cultivation?"

For a moment, the people around lowered their heads in thought, no doubt eager to overlook Corco's own admission of fallibility. In the end, Nahlen was the first to speak up.

"People are greedy after all. Probably a lot of people have come up with this, and decided that they'd rather only have their family be cultivators. I don't think anyone's ever tried this kind of 'universal cultivation'."

"No, some have. The great ancestors who crossed the seas were cultivators, one and all," Quato said.

"Yeah, but their society wasn't like that." Corco raised a finger. "Before they were driven out of Arcavia, they were just another Arcavian society, with a ruling class of cultivators and some commoners underneath. When they fled, they only took the cultivators, so far as we know."

"Even so, that would be their entire society, and it worked. Where is the problem then?" the ghost warrior asked.

"They only had a few thousand people, and Yakuallpa, the place they landed on, didn't know cultivation until then. Since then, they've reestablished that old structure of cultivators at the top and mortals at the bottom."

"That's all fine and well, but why does that mean we can't teach these brats any cultivation?" Nahlen complained in a dry tone.

"Within a century of their arrival, our ancestors managed to replace the old ruling class of Yakuallpa, despite their low numbers. Shows pretty well how scary a society of only cultivators can be. If that's the case, why are cultivation societies not the most successful ones on the planet? Are you trying to tell me that within all of human civilization, all those countless societies with cultivation, not one came up with the idea that they'd be stronger if everyone could cultivate? No one on the losing end of a war ever thought to teach cultivation to commoners? That seems unlikely. So if this has been tried, where are those societies today?"

Not only the inquisitive Quato, but even the brash Nahlen had been silenced as they searched for an answer. Before he answered, his look returned to the arena. Even now, the more agile of the warriors hadn't found a gap, even though his breath had begun to labor.

"This is my biggest problem with the lack of universal cultivation: Evolution. If these cultivator societies existed, as we can assume, then why didn't they conquer the world? They would have overwhelming strength, so how did our mixed societies survive against them?"

Up on the arena, the larger of the fighters landed his first proper hit and brought the agile recruit to the ground. The referee stepped in. The battle was over.

"There must be some sort of problem involved with the idea of universal cultivation," Corco mused. "Could be that cultivators eat far more than normal people, and primitive agriculture can't support that, but it could also be something else. Until we know the reasons, I won't risk the future of my people on a dubious advantage. Even less so since firearms will shrink the advantage of cultivation either way."

While Corco clapped for the winner, Nahlen's frown had returned.

"In that case, I'd like to ask for those firearms," he demanded. "Since I can't cultivate my men, I can keep them busy for a while at least, get their puny bodies up to some level I can work with. But at some point, they need to learn how to actually kill folks. No point in training them if they can't shoot for shit."

Again a battalion of soldiers with sticks marched past them.

"Yeah, don't worry." The king grinned as he watched his future troops. "You'll get your weapons soon enough. I already have my best people on the job."

__________________________

Sometimes, Egidius felt envy towards the cultivators. Not their strength of course. The clock maker had no use for brute force, and his own hands had blessed him with all the dexterity he would ever need. No, far more was he envious of their legs, which would carry them wherever they wished to go, as well as their fortitude.

Unlike him, who was now stuck on this little boat in the middle of the Mayura, a cultivator would have shrugged the cold off like nothing. Instead of a shrug, he blew into his gloved hands again, a futile effort like all the ones before.

"How much longer?" he asked his ferryman.

"We're there, Master Egidius. Look!" the man stretched a finger to the building at the shore, as it's frost-covered water wheeled peeled itself out of the fog.

The inside of the building turned out to be just as cold as the outside. Plagued by shivers, Egidius drew the blanket around his body closer.

"Could no one have at least made a fire?" he complained.

"My apologies. Since the workstations aren't done yet, there are no workers here. There was also no reason to maintain a fire. Waste of firewood and manpower, the boss said."

"Since there won't be a fire without workers, would that not mean you only start the fire once I have installed the tools? Well, I'm cold now, in fact, the frost threatens to freeze off my fingers. I am not supposed to install all of these tools without fingers, am I?" he said with narrowed eyes. On any other day, Egidius was pretty easy to get along with, but only three things he would protect with his life: His eyes, his mind and his fingers.

"Ah, excuse me master. I didn't think," the ferryman said, and rushed away. "Be right back!" he shouted through the open door of the empty workshop. After a prolonged sigh, Egidius sat on the steps upstairs and blew into the gloves the potter's daughter had gifted him.

While he waited, wrapped up in his little blanket, his eyes scanned the space and began to lay out plans for its use. Over there would be the lathe. Maybe the hydraulic press would be better over there, once he had it finished. Workstations in the back... No matter how efficient, the space would be nowhere near enough. They might have to build an annex to this building, and most others like it, at least if King Corco's ideas for their use space wanted any chance at completion.

While he watched the ferryman stack and ignite some of the timber meant for construction, Egidius thought about Corco's ambitious plans. In the classic system of craftsmanship, each craftsman would be an autonomous machine, meant to produce one complete work. Instead, the king envisioned a future where each craftsman would be part of a machine much larger than themselves, each responsible for a single part, and specialized on it. If it worked, it would increase efficiency, precision and speed all at once. Really, he longed to see it in action, an entire society with the beauty of a clock.

"Master Egidius, please use the fire to warm yourself," the ferryman said at last, but the clock maker didn't have time for leisure. He had history to make.

"Right," he said and threw off his blanket. "Let's get to work."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

136 Loyalty

"Lord Macuy, welcome back to Saniya!"

"King Corco, this lord is glad to return to this grand city."

With a hug, the lord and his king celebrated their reunion after only a few months.

"You were almost late," Corco said. Although he had a jovial smirk on his face, the lord frowned, reminded of their path.

"There were some problems when we made our way through Lord Ogulno's lands. However, every other lord along the way has been very accommodating. As such, we managed to make our way back just in time." He looked to the morning sun as it crept over the horizon and painted streaks of orange into the clouds.

"Yeah. Tenth day of winter," Corco murmured. "Today's the day."

"Truly a shame that in the end, we could not meet at a banquet."

"We're still a bit off the winter solstice anyways. Let's have that banquet once we get back home. With the kind of support you have brought us, it shouldn't take too long, right?" Corco looked behind the lord, and the two thousand armored soldiers in his back, armed with axes and shields. He knew that Utusku was a small estate, and a poor one to boot. Considering his means, Macuy had brought about as much as he could spare.

"Ahaha, I hope my men will prove useful against the northerners," the lord laughed.

"Well, they won't have to do it alone. I'll show you to the rest." Corco turned and marched back into the camp the camp, a silent Quato in tow. For lack of a better space, this was where the combined troops of the south would assemble for this campaign.

"So how goes it back home?" Before the most impressive sight came into view, Corco decided to get some small talk in.

"Quite well. My workers have begun to set up enclosures on King Corco's suggestion. I am sure Utusku's husbandry will grow like flowers in spring, enough to fulfill Saniya's growing demands."

"That's great!" The king clapped his hands, to distract from his awkward segue. "And on that topic, please take a look, at Saniya's growing armies!"

His arms spread in a grand gesture, the king strode through a line of tents and opened the view up to thousands upon thousands of red-colored men. All throughout the square, they were stationed in smaller groups, armed with various weapons. There were the traditional heavy troops of Medala, just like the ones Macuy had brought. Then there were small bowman contingents, troops of light-armored bola and net throwers, as well as tightly packed spear formations. And at the foot of the arenas, at the very center of the congregation, Corco's soldiers stood tall. Another two-thousand fresh recruits, together with their freshly minted rifles, formed a fierce core for the army.

"Oooh, what a view indeed!" Macuy said. "The northerners won't know what hit them."

To the sound of countless salutes, Corco stepped past the soldiers and arenas, to the tents at the back of the camp.

"Yeah, it's not bad. Though according to my sources, King Pacha's army should still outnumber by a bit. Not to worry though, our chances are pretty good."

If everyone stays on focus, Corco frowned as he looked to the palanquins parked beside most tents. Although the king had urged the lords to leave them at home, most lords had still insisted on their prestige. And one of the worst offenders had only waited to make problems.

"According to this lord's sources, the northern army outnumbers us by more than two to one!" Lord Rafun's long hair stormed out of the tent to follow behind its owner.

"Rafun, are you a coward? Even if they have a few people more than us, they will never take the south!" Lord Queru rushed after him. "No matter how many 'men' those northerners have, we will crush them one and all!"

"That's enough! Lord Rafun isn't wrong, and neither is prudence," Corco silenced the bickering lords for the moment. "It's true that our numbers are fewer, but that's only because the northerners have more people to begin with. Plus, our chances are much better than the numbers make it out. Winter is close, and we will be the defenders. We don't need to win an open battle, we only have to hold Qarasi until Pacha runs out of food or support. If we can't even defend the south under these conditions, we don't deserve to carry the names of our ancestors."

For the moment, the king's words encouraged the southern lords, and reminded them that they all had the same enemy. Of course, things weren't as simple as Corco made them out to be. From within the tents, more and more lords began to assemble around him. Once everyone was present, he turned and marched back towards his troops. Although disunity was a problem, the troops would be under his control. The lords didn't matter.

When Corco reached the very front of the formation again, he climbed the arena again. Presented with a silent nod, Nahlen and Paec replied in kind. Only then did he step to the edge of the arena, to look upon his warriors.

As soon as the king arrived, a murmur ran through the crowd, but began to calm soon enough, the warriors intimidated by the status of the men before them. While Corco waited to begin the speech that would sent them to their deaths, he overlooked what had been assembled. Around fifteen thousand warriors all in all, that was the full extent of their troops. Of course, things weren't as simple as he had made them out to be.

"Wait, I do not see the ring banner of Saqartu. Where are Lord Mayu's troops?" Lord Queru asked, and earned frowns and sneers from his colleagues.

"My cousin has decided to stay in Puscanacra. Since the north is about to attack, Puscanacra has the mission to protect the coastlines. However, Mayu did send us most ships in his fleets, to help us with logistics and supplies in our endeavor."

Although the lack of warriors from Puscanacra was a bit of a shame, his cousin still had shown plenty of good will by providing them with a proper navy. His excuse was also justified, even though he had only done it so Corco couldn't take command of any Saqartu troops. A bit petty, but still proper, it was typical Mayu behavior.

"Ogulno didn't show either," another lord chimed in.

"Yes, Lord Ogulno is dealing with bandit attacks." This time Corco's smile grew a bit wider. For now he would have to take Ogulno's lack of support, but Corco wouldn't forget his disrespect. Not now, not ever. Their house would suffer the consequences of their actions soon enough, despite Aunt Guanca. Though of course, many of the lords on show weren't much better than Ogulno, and worse than Mayu.

Even though they had assembled twelve southern lords in total, they only managed to field twelve thousand men overall if one excluded Corco's own troops. Many of the lords had brought a mere five hundred men, barely more than an honor guard. Unlike Lords like Queru and Macuy, most of them still hedged their bets, just in case Corco lost the war and Mayu stepped in to save the day. This way, they could do their duties, but would hold troops back to sell another potential favor to their governor. These acts as well, Corco would remember. At least they wouldn't suffer from attacks. For Corco, it was enough to make sure that they wouldn't benefit from their revolution. Missing out on the chance of a lifetime would be the perfect punishment for the opportunists. Corco hated opportunists.

After a while, even the last of the warriors had noticed their king before them, and most of the chatter had stopped. Satisfied, the king grabbed his trusty megaphone from Quato's hands, and began to make the troops his.

"Brave men of the south!" A boom of baritone filled the camp, to the quiet and awe of the estate warriors. "Soon we go into battle, to follow the steps of great men past! Thirty summers ago, your fathers stood here as well, on the terminus of Sachay, to defend their lands from foreign invaders! And yet again, the northerners have come to take from us what is not theirs. This time, the war wasn't caused by a disagreement over food distribution, and it is not a power play from the Emperor. Instead, the bastard king has come south, to prove how much of a peacock he truly is."

Laughter roared as Corco bathed in his uncle's incompetence. After the succession, Pacha's shame had spread even faster than his heroism had before. Still, the laughs sounded hollow, and many soldiers remained tense. Of course, the lords wouldn't be the only ones to hear about their enemy's numbers.

"Although this time, the enemy is led by a fop, I feel your pain, your worry! Your father's, your uncle's, your own great sacrifice in the last war were only enough to secure a last shred of dignity, to prevent an annihilation of Sachay as we know it. And yet now they are already back, to take our lands again."

Indeed, many warriors hung their heads when they heard their king's words.

"I understand. Many here may ask: What is the point? Even if we beat back the north today, we could only gain some time. In a few years, they would still return, once again the same goals in mind. In the end, our fight did change nothing, like sandstone up against the waves. Would a surrender not be better than a slow death? Wouldn't this benefit you more? Accept your new northern lords, and nothing would change. You could forget those pangs of guilt, and tell yourselves that the only reason we fight this war is so the lords of Sachay can cling to their precious titles a few years longer!"

Like a cold wind over the plains, a silent cold ran through the crowd. So quiet was the army that Corco could hear a bustle from the lords behind him. However, he had no interest to find out which lords had tried to stand up against the speech and which had held them back. Quato would keep an eye out and tell him later. In truth, Corco had better things to do. After all, his speech still wasn't done.

"If those are your thoughts, then do not fight for the lords of the south! See what has happened to Saniya, see the road you have crossed to reach here. See the great treasures we have only just begun to unearth in this city."

As he saw the warriors before them raise their heads again, some life had returned to their eyes. For the last few days, many of these warriors had camped here, and Corco had made sure they experienced as much of Saniya's limited splendor and might as they could afford.

"Soon, the treasures of Saniya will spread throughout the south. It will make us strong, will make the Sachay men strong enough to oppose any attacks from the north! Now we don't fight for a limited survival, we fight to protect the bright future that awaits us all! Fight so that one day, we may rise above our oppressors and show them true prosperity! If you wish to fight for the survival of our people, grab your arms tight, and follow me! Raise the new banner of the south, and the flag of my kingdom, and follow wherever it may go!"

Excited shouts afflicted the warriors and silence struck the lords as they saw the new flags get erected all around them. Although Corco's words might have been considered an exaggeration before, no one would think so now. When the flags rose over the palisades, the morning light struck them and showed the new banner of the southern kingdom all across the camp: A silver triquetra on purple ground. There was a good reason purple wasn't a heraldric color. How many rulers could even afford just purple robes? How rich would one have to be to hand purple flags to his simple soldiers, to mount them on his castles and his ships? Now the king built his body even further, to stand before his men, as a giant purple banner floated in the wind behind him.

"For the first time in our lives, the south has a future more bright than anything the north can imagine. So follow me along this beautiful path, towards your own peace, your own plenty and towards the boon of your entire family!"

The earth shook from the rhythmic feet and clangs of weapons drowned out all but the shouts of the warriors. Content, Corco looked down onto the masses, as they whipped themselves into a frenzy. Even though they had come as individual warriors, they were already an army now. Even though they were still the troops of the southern lords, soon enough they would be his, in anything but name only.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

137 Inevitability

Eyes focused into the swamp, on the powers of fate before him, Wayra's hands clutched the wood of the watchtower's windowsill. While the bloated wood's moisture seeped into his fingers, so did fear seep into his heart. A heavy breath banished the demons for the moment. At least for now, he was still the master of Harkay. He would have to set an example for the others. "That looks like trouble," the master said in a calm tone. "Where is our messenger?"

"Still not back," a voice behind him turned somersaults. "What do we do about this?"

Wayra eyes met with the ocean of enemies. The red of their armors marked them as warriors, men of real power. Up until now he hadn't known there were this many warriors in Sachay. Above the troops flew banners in colors he had never seen in his life. Smoke and drums spoke of the imminent attack. All day their ears and noses had been filled with the sounds of war, and it had already drained the defenders of their wills. In front of this force, their little commoner uprising would be powerless, as they had always been. Rather than deal with the army straight out of fantasy, he would focus on more manageable tasks.

"What about Governor Mayu?"

"No, Wayra. No message from the other lords either." Again his closest friend squeaked. In truth, the lord wanted to do the same.

"Damn." His fist slammed into windowsill and sent a rain of droplets to the ground. "what are those lords doing? Didn't they say they'd support us against Saniya? They can't just leave us out to rot!"

For a while his friend paused, intimidated by Wayra's anger. This was an unusual look for the new lord. After all, they hadn't made him leader because he was the angriest among them.

"Maybe they have been delayed due to the pressure from Saniya's new king?" his friend stuttered out after a short delay.

"Bastard!" he shouted again, eyes jutted out towards the vicious king's armies. "Those noble beasts must be laughing as they watch us squeal!"

"You think the other lords lured us into the city on purpose," the voice whispered behind him. Even though he couldn't control his emotions, Nawy was a clever guy. Of course he'd understand his friend's meaning right away.

"What else? Lure the dumb commoners into the swamp and have them build their own damn prison around themselves. Then the lords can come and wipe us out at their leisure! To them, this isn't anything more than a game." A bitter taste was stuck in his mouth, gall collected from years of grief.

"But what choice did we have?" his friend asked.

A silent nod stood vigil to their dead dreams. In truth, the people of Saniya didn't have any choice at all. From birth, the commoners were doomed to live an irrelevant existence in the shadows of the great lords. When the old lords had told his parents to develop the land in a hostile swamp, they had been forced to obey. When Lord Sawo had decided on their exorbitant taxes, he had been forced to obey. And when outside lords had sent messengers to incite a revolt, he had been forced to obey as well. There was no place in Medala for a disloyal servant.

"What's going on with the king's messenger?" At last, the lord of Harkay looked back, to turn the voice back into his assistant and friend. For a bit, Nawy fidgeted, while Wayra waited.

"The man is still unharmed," his assistant said at last, his voice much firmer. Wayra had been told that his eyes had that effect on people. They would have to work overtime today. "Even if we wanted to injure him, most in the city don't have the courage to attack a warrior. As the man is a cultivator, we would need more than a few terrified farmers to deal with him."

"The warriors die just the same as we do, never forget that," Wayra said, as he suppressed the shake in his voice. If the lords wouldn't play along, he'd have to find another way out. "No amount of force will make them more than human. So what if they're a bit strong? We have walls, and we still have weapons too. For our city we have cut down all the trees two day's march away. How will these warriors ever climb our walls?"

His smile hiding his dread, Wayra looked back across the wall.

"If we don't fight now, we will die without a whimper. But if we stand together, we can still hold out here! We can make every step into our city a pain for them, a thousand thousand ants gnawing at their feet. We sell our hide for as much as we can. If only we could delay them a few days, we will not only show our people that the warriors are mortals too. We will also show this king how expensive our town will be. With that basis, we can at least bargain for our lives."

"Bu-, but Wayra, wouldn't that make the lords only more angry?" Nawy wrung his hands, but the leader's heart had calmed. By now he had gotten over his fear, only focused on what he could do, rather than what might be done to him.

"So what? They already wanna rot us out. How much worse could it get?"

"You do not know the horrors of those 'nobles'." Nawy's eyes quivered like his hands. "Wayra, have you never heard of the hobbies of the lords? It is said that some lords have made a sport out of the murder of common folk. They will have competitions like this: 'Who can kill their farmers in the most gruesome way?' To prove their might, some have built machines with a thousand blades, ready to skin us. Others will resort to flails, hot coals or machines to rip us in half. There has even been rumor of some lord who would stick his servants into a bronze barrel. Once inside, he would heat his contraption until the poor servants melt like tin over fire. I heard these lords bring their instruments with them on campaign, to still their insatiable lust for blood in between battles."

"Don't mention this nonsense outside!" Wayra shouted. He wouldn't have his friend ruin their morale even further. "Just look at their army! Where are those instruments?" he asked, and looked back into the swamp. "If this were true, the lords would long... have..."

As he saw the horrific sight on the horizon, Wayra's words slurred, until they stuck in the back of his throat. At some point during their talks, the army of southern lords had brought several peculiar contraptions to the front. They looked like elongated bronze barrels, put on wheels for easy transportation. Torchbearers were stationed right behind them, no doubt ready to burn the uncouth peasants to a crisp!

"Eek!" an entirely unmanly shriek escaped his right-hand man. Still, the leader had no time to worry about his friend's image. Rather, he was busy with his own fears. At least, their self-inflicted paralysis wouldn't last long.

As Wayra's eyes flitted across the swamp, he saw the torchbearers light their barrels. A heavy boom alleviated their terrors, and replaced them with new ones. The cargo of the barrels was unleashed on their 'free city' of Harkay, and tore apart their flimsy walls like an axe through a paper door.

Even though his mouth was as dry as a bag of old rice, even though he was frozen in shock, Wayra couldn't deny: He was glad these were only siege weapons.

"Nawy," he wheezed, as he stared at the holes burst into their front gate.

"Yeah, boss."

"Release the king's messenger. Tell them we accept their proposal for negotiations."

"Yeah, boss."

Without any life in his eyes or his voice, Nawy turned and puppeteered his body out of the room.

-------

When Wayra was about to regain his composure, the sun had already set, and he found himself opposed to the torch-lit figure of a tall man of shoulder-length hair. Though it was a common brown, it's gloss, like precious amber, proved the man's noble background. Although the noble was already tall, the men around him were veritable giants. Even so, the six men showed a level of deference and posture that could only mean a single thing:

"This master greets the king," the leader of Harkay said.

Not only was he smallest among the visitors, the king of the south also retained a harmless smile on his face, as if he had come for a chat among friends. Even so, a single gesture showed his regality. One wave from the king's hands silenced the room. Even the flames around them seemed to calm to King Corco's majesty.

"You're a master, are you?" the king smirked, jokes in his voice.

*As if in casual conversation with an old friend,* Wayra thought.

"Of course!" he replied, loud enough to convince himself. "Harkay is a free city, and I am its representative. That makes me its master by right."

"Okay, good." The king clapped. "You really did a lot of thinking when you put that argument together, did you? Since you rule the city, that makes you the ruler. Really got your legalese down. You didn't read the fine print though." King Corco leaned forward, and Wayra leaned back in turn. "No land is ever yours if you can't defend it. Didn't you know that? How about you tell my troops about your rightful status and we see how that goes."

With great difficulty, the master of Harkay swallowed his own terror away. Although he could feel his fear cling to him as a film, he would have to be bold. They were dead either way, so what would they have to lose?

"In that case, can't we just take the king now? Why would the king come into this place, and with only six of his guards to boot? Would the troops outside dare attack us if we control the king?"

For the first time, King Corco showed more than a shallow smile. His eyes widened in what Wayra hoped beyond hope would be fear.

"You're bold." The king's calm voice destroyed his delusions. "But again, you're not too good with the details. There's six cultivators here, not six people. I'm a cultivator myself, which makes seven. How long do you think the seven of us could hold this single room against your people? We're in a tower along your town wall. All we need to do is rope down the window over there and I'm safe. My soldiers have already breached your walls too. Do you really think you could catch me before they come in and I get out?"

"We could always try to kill you," Harkay's master growled with his head lowered, even though he knew better. Not only would they fail, the commoners of Harkay would never dare attack a king.

"And you would have a very tiny chance at success." The king shrugged. "Still, it's not impossible."

Surprised, Wayra watched the king put one leg over the other. How could a ruler admit to his own danger?

"So, do you know why I would take that kind of risk, just to talk to you?"

Unable to even speak, Wayra only shook his head.

"Then I will tell you, my good friend. You might have guessed already, but we didn't assemble the warriors of the south just to deal with a few insurgents. Our goals lie farther, in the east. Using time, energy and ammo on you is, frankly, a waste."

For a moment Wayra's mouth opened, but he could see the king's grin widen, so he held back. Even he knew that the king was right. Without their walls, they were but rabbits before snakes. With a little wink, King Corco continued.

"Also, since we'll enter hostile land beyond this region, this place is our last reasonable supply point. But only if we don't burn it to the ground. A peaceful takeover is more beneficial to us."

"You wish to use Harkay in your military operation," Wayra's frown soured his voice. They wouldn't have a choice in the matter, he knew that as well.

"It's not only temporary though. Your town be needed far beyond this campaign. Isn't that nice? That means you're worth more alive than dead." Still the king grinned, and stared out the back window, into their free city.

"Do you even understand how nicely your little town lies on the map? There's a reason Mayu decided to have Harkay built here."

As the image of the foppish Governor of the South entered his mind, Wayra's frown deepened.

"Who?" Never would he admit to any conspiracy against Saniya.

"Yeah, right," the king sneered. "Mayu's my cousin, you know? You really think he's gonna protect you now that I've replaced Sawo as Lord of Saniya? Your benefactor sold you out as soon as I took over."

There it was again, the same fear he had felt towards the fake torture devices. This time however, it was no illusion. Like a cat in front of a mouse, the king seemed to enjoy his suffering.

"Anyways, Mayu's a bit overzealous sometimes, but at least he's got brains. Your little town is placed right in between the two major rivers. In fact, you're pretty much one day's solid march away from either one, right in the middle. If this town ever got fortified and big enough, you could take control of all the land in between the two rivers, and then the surrounding estates could share it among them."

Again Wayra's eyes grew. By now all color had drained from his face, as he began to understand just how naive, how powerless they had really been.

"What? You didn't think Mayu only wanted to help out the oppressed, did you? In that case, you might be a lot less useful than I thought." Again the king winked, but to Wayra the casual performance looked like the taunt of an old monster from the stories. "But in this case, your trouble is also your good fortune. Because through the great rivers will flow an infinite stream of resources, all the way to Saniya. What do you think, wouldn't it be useful to have a little town here, both to secure the waterways, and to do some pre-assembly for my industry?"

At last king leaned back again, into the exact posture he had shown at the start of their negotiations. Nothing had changed about King Corco, yet now Wayra felt trapped, more powerless than ever.

"So here's my offer: Swear loyalty, sign a little contract, and in return I'll build you a canal to end all canals."

The nod was automatic. As always, the commoner had no choice.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

138 Pettiness

As he looked down the hill, onto the torch-lit tents, Fadelio did his best to suppress a frown. Although he would have loved to continue their march all throughout the night, the commoners were in no state to continue. Most of them would lie asleep right now, too tired to continue, or would lie awake, too afraid to find rest. This really wasn't going how he thought it would.

"Hey, Fadi." Under fleet steps, Brym rushed his portly figure up the hill and towards Fadelio's command tent.

"Brym. How is everyone looking?"

"The ghost warriors are fine, for the most part. We have secured the perimeter, but we only have two dozen people. For now it should be barely enough to keep the commoners under control. But this will turn into a problem as soon as we encounter any problems beyond what we've faced so far."

While the kid was talking, he followed Fadelio into the tent. Inside, the warrior offered a seat to the merchant, who was glad to take a short rest.

"As for the commoners themselves: They are terrified. Many believe that they are doing something illegal, and a few have talked about turning back. Also-"

"Idiots!" Out of view of the people, Fadelio paced around the tent. "Don't they understand that the law is with us? There is no precedent for a lord to hold his craftsmen inside his territory! They're free folk, they can move wherever they please! And they're from Arguna! Arguna isn't part of Pacha's territory in the first place! If we get attacked, it's Pacha breaking the law, not us!"

"Fadi, there's-"

"Plus, weren't they all ear when we offered them gold and knowledge? That's why they're here, aren't they? To work with us? Well, if they want to learn the new knowledge and get even richer, we'll have to get them through the southern border until the war starts. Why complain about that now!? So what if they're craftsmen. If they're real men, they'll tough it out a bit. Not even the peacock king would be dumb enough to go through with his threats! He wouldn't want to lose control over his own craftsmen, would he?"

"Official Fadelio!" Brym shouted. At last the warrior woke up from his anger, and looked back over to his young friend.

"I'm sorry. What did you want?" he asked, his voice already much calmer than before.

"...There is a messenger from Pacha outside of our camp. I am here to announce him. He has been waiting here for a while now as well."

For a while, Fadelio stared at the kid, with what could only be a dumb look on his face. Soon though he regained his presence of mind. He was responsible now, so he couldn't show any weakness. A few deep breaths and he had adjusted. This wasn't something to be pushed off. Best deal with this now.

"Bring him in."

__________________________

Minutes later, Fadelio sat opposite a man in silver armor. Not only the ornate breastplate was fancy, but the white cape and gem-encrusted axe was as well. With all the money Pacha could drain from the Pluritac territories in the empire's center, he had afforded himself an especially grandiose guard. To fit with his own self-image, King Pacha's men were as gaudy as they were fierce. After all, they had been recruited from the capital's sipyi, the most elite warriors in all of Medala.

"You're the southern king's official, Fadelio?" the rude warrior asked. Ever since they had met, the messenger hadn't spared the attendant of the Triumvirate Meeting more than a glance.

"Who wants to know?" Rather than answer, the man sneered and threw a scroll into Fadelio's lap.

"Read this, southern dog, and weep."

Rather than engage the rude warrior and forget his good manners, Fadelio looked back over to Brym. Silent like a servant, the kid stood at the entrance to the tent, ready to support the negotiations whenever necessary.

"Warrior Caelio is here with a message from King Pachacutec," the kid said. "This should be the message in question."

"And what are you? I don't need a foreigner to deal with my business," Caelio snapped in Brym's direction. Even now he hadn't looked at either of them.

"Of course you do not, sire. This mortal will go and make some tea for our esteemed guest. Please excuse me." Clever as always, Brym did his best to take some heat out of the meeting, before he cleared the air in the room. Satisfied with his fierce aura, the foppish warrior snorted through his nose and looked back over to Fadelio, who had since started to read the letter from King Pacha. After a few moments, he looked back up, and saw the sneer in the warrior's face.

"You can't be serious." Fadelio said in a dry voice. The letter flew across the tent and landed in front of Caelio's feet.

"The king's orders are quite clear, so even a simpleton should be able to understand them." Caelio's eyes narrowed. "At once, change course and return all the servants you have taken from the king's lands unlawfully. Although our kingdoms are engaged in war at the moment, there is no reason to involve the commoners as well. However, this aggression from Official Fadelio goes beyond the common customs. If these actions do not cease right away, not even the civilians will be safe from retaliation. Stop now, and repent, and beg for the king's mercy! Defy the orders, and feel the king's wrath!"

"What orders, you dumb fuck!?" Fadelio shouted, as his eyes widened. "He's not my king, you get that, right? Fuck me, 'his commoners'? The craftsmen are freefolk. Not only that, they are from Arguna, you moron! That's not even part of your 'king's' administration. Why would I send craftsmen to your king who up until now were ruled by the Ancestral Hall in Arguna, and have come on their own accord? How dumb do you think I am?"

Despite Fadelio's very calm and reasonable argument, Caelio still held on to his sneer.

"Official Fadelio, it seems like you misunderstand the severity of your own position. The way King Pachacutec sees matters, you have kidnapped the craftsmen of the central kingdom and taken them to become slaves to the King of the South. Official fadelio should be aware that-"

"Bullshit!" Fadelio jumped up, the chair cracked under the force. "That's your plan!? What, having slaves is illegal, and since they're all slaves, we're at fault? What, you're punishing us, officials from another king, by death? Because we've 'enslaved' commoners not even within your administration? I mean, we even have fucking contracts with these people! How would you prove any of this?"

"Fakes," the warrior smiled, as the massive Fadelio towered above him. "In fact, all of these men were slated to enter King Pacha's administration very soon. That was the reason they were enslaved by Official Fadelio in the first place, was it not? In the end, Official Fadelio also needs to prove that his contracts are legitimate."

"Right, so what is it King Pacha wants? Because he's clearly not interested in a few commoner craftsmen. You don't have any more realistic offers to make, some we can actually talk about? This just reeks of pettiness, and nothing else."

At last the warrior also rose from his seat, and looked right into Fadelio's eyes.

"Official should understand that King Pacha is very concerned about proper tradition. He is displeased that the southern king would exploit holes in the ancient customs. Holes that only exist because so far no man has been shameless enough to exploit them. King Pacha will punish all those who dare involve outsiders, and all those who dare trample tradition. No matter how much you squeal and speak of negotiation, your only choice is submission."

Now Caelio began to grin again, though it was tinged in darkness.

"That's your excuse, is it? And from the guy who's working with foreigners more than any of the kings? Good luck getting those policies through the Triumvirate, by the way. I'm sure King Amautu would be glad to hear that Pacha is now the arbiter of justice in these parts. Go tell your peacock king to fuck off until he's grown a brain, retard," Fadelio cursed. At last warrior Caelio's smile broke, while a dangerous glint entered his eye.

"You still seem confused about your position, southern dog. While Arguna might not be part of King Pacha's kingdom, right now, we are not in Arguna. We are in Orzuna, part of the Central Kingdom under rule of the great King Pachacutec. And as part of this kingdom, what King Pachacutec says, goes. Triumvirate Meeting? Politics don't mean a thing outside of Arguna. All that counts here is might. We have thirty thousand warriors ready and willing to fight for the central king. All around you there are scouting parties, to guarantee you will never escape. Once you are dead, and the commoners are in King Pacha's lands to stand witness to your despicable acts, who can say otherwise?"

Again Pacha's men proved their shamelessness. While Fadelio's muscles tightened, he tried his hardest to not knock his guest. Even with a clear threat in his face, Caelio still continued.

"In the end, you are not much. Just like your father, you are a lowly dog, raised by a weak ruler to do the grunt work. And just like that so-called Great General Atoc, you are incompetent. You fail to understand when and where the rules apply, and it has led you into a dead end. So if I were you, I would relent, and stand down as soon as possible. Otherwise you might very soon find yourself on the wrong side of history. Corpses tell no tales."

His last words spoken, the warrior turned, and flung his cape into Fadelio's face, ready to leave. For the official, it was the last drop to spill the water. Back when they had last met, Fadelio had disappointed Corco, even though he knew it had been the right thing.

This mission had been his chance to redeem himself, to himself as much as to anyone. He had done everything to fulfill his goals, but now this fop had shown up and just destroyed all of his plans, all of his work, based on some shady excuse? And now he thought he could simply run back? Leave with his head held high, the foppish fuck?

"Hey, how dare you!" Caelio screamed.

Before Fadelio knew what he had done, he had held the silver warrior's white cape in his hands, and dragged the man back.

"Let go at once, you bastard, or feel the wrath of the great King Pacha!"

While the warrior turned,his cape entangled itself even more around his face, and Fadelio was willing to play along.

"As opposed to what?" he sneered, and wrapped the cape ever tighter around the man's head. By now the warrior had realized his plight, and reached for his axe to the side, but Fadelio was faster than his blinded enemy. On silent feet, the giant stepped around his enemy's body and held the axe in its sling with his right. His left drew the strangulating cape ever tighter.

As he understood what happened, the warrior grew desperate. He rushed back, and forced Fadelio all the way to the walls of the tent, but a tent wall would never have enough force to even hurt. Neither did the warrior's laughable attempts at elbows. Instead, as soon as Caelio let go of his holstered axe, Fadelio took the chance to draw it himself, and throw it across the room.

*Too clunky at this distance.*

Rather than use the weapon, Fadelio now had both arms freed, and tightened them around the silver warrior's neck. Blinded and choked, the man struggled even harder. As his legs thrashed about, he threw the furniture around the room. However, the warrior Fadelio was only concerned with his kill, nothing else. If they couldn't avoid a confrontation with Pacha's army, he would make sure to at least take the fop with him. It would be one less enemy to overcome later. One last twitch of his legs, and Caelio lay dead. Even so, the warrior kept his arms in place for a few extra seconds, just to make sure. He wasn't a big fan of nasty surprises, and he had already gone through one too many today.

Only a loud clatter from the entrance made Fadelio look back up again. There stood Brym, broken tea set at his feet, as hot tea soaked into his soles.

"What did you do?" the kid whispered.

"Tell all the ghosts, and all the commoners: King Pacha has come to murder them, and there's no escape. It's time to break up the tents. We'll have to run through the night."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

139 Burden

"Official Fadelio... what... shall we do?" a breathless voice reached Fadelio from his back.

"March, you idiot!" the king's official turned his head and shouted towards Rimaq, the old papermaker. Sweat streamed down the uncouth man's face like starchy water down pressed wood pulp, as his chest heaved like a press itself. For now, the official decided to humor the commoner, and followed his example.

"Of course we do!" Along with his shout, the middle-aged man stopped, and his upper body slumped forward. Muddy sweat dripping to the ground, the man contradicted his own words and did what he could best: Talk instead of work. "Ever since noon we have done nothing but march! But official Fadelio said we would be safe in his care! You said there was nothing to worry about, that we could cross into the southern king's lands without any trouble!"

Like the arrogant man he was, the papermaker raised his finger to Fadelio's face, his posture still cramped and lowered. In the face of such disrespect, Fadelio could only scratch his head. A sigh marked the end of his action, and he fully turned to face the nuisance.

"Right. You're correct. I did say that we would be safe to cross the border. But I did also assume that our opponents were normal, intelligent people. Medalan craftsmen are freefolk, they have no lords and can move wherever they like. You know that as well as I do. So in the end, here's the most important question, one which might just make you aware of your position." A smile crept on the official's face. Corco must have been a bad influence on him. "Why do we get pursued by the mad King Pacha at the moment?"

For a moment the commoner paused, but soon his folded body raised, and he returned Fadelio's sly look, a defiant glint of life in his eyes. "Because-"

"Because he considers this a betrayal by you, the commoners," Fadelio interrupted. "No matter the Triumvirate of Kings or the Ancestral Hall, he believes Arguna to be his, and all its men and women with it."

As a single droplet ran down Rimaq's cheek, the two men stood opposite each other. Both were dead quiet as the other commoners wheezed past them, too tired or afraid to get involved in their high politics. Only when one of the trek's donkey carts rumbled past did the papermaker wake up from his shock once more.

"How could a king believe such nonsense?" he whispered.

"Well, they don't call him the idiot king for nothing," Fadelio spread his hands. He would take any chance to spread Pacha's good name among the commoners. "As someone who has betrayed the king, your life is deemed forfeit. That's why we're running. I'll be fine either way, so I really shouldn't bother so much. Worst case, I get captured and my king has to buy my freedom with some of his infinite wealth. But as soon as the king's armies reach us, you are fucked, as they say. So I'll repeat myself again: March, you idiot."

Of course, he knew that his death was as likely as the papermaker's if Pacha's troops caught up with them. Though a white lie should be allowed, so long as it would make the commoners faster. Even so, the glint in the man's eyes wavered, but it remained unbroken.

"However, the children are-"

"Master Fadelio!" someone shouted from behind the king's official. When he turned, Fadelio saw one of the ghost warriors march out of the woods around them. These were the troops his master had picked, his father had cultivated and his mother had lead.

"Good news I take it?" he joked. For a moment the warrior peeked towards the papermaker within earshot, only to resume once Fadelio had nodded off the action.

"Master Fadelio, there is a small contingent of skirmishers in the south-east." Though a finger was pointed in the direction he had come from, the ghost's voice was clear and calm. A ghost knew no fear, and that was how the ghost warriors had been trained. Fadelio however had been trained by Corco, someone far less traditional.

"Wait, east? How the fuck did those pricks get ahead of us?" he shouted. Commoners all around turned their heads to look at the warrior, before they met his eyes and resumed their march.

"Master..." the ghost whispered at last, and looked around the crowd. With a glance over to Rimaq, Fadelio moved in closer to receive his warrior's advice. "With all the dead weight around us, we will never be able to escape our enemies."

"What the fuck are you saying!?" the king's official shouted again. By now the papermaker had backed off by himself. Although he had proven bolder than he had first seemed, he wasn't suicidal. As a commoner, he could understand well what conversations were dangerous to listen in on.

"If master is worried about the success of our mission, this servant did not mean to imply to abandon the craftsmen." The ghost motioned around them. The few wagons they had brought with them had been emptied of all supplies and were now filled with children and old people. Even so, the capacity was nowhere near enough. Many others had been forced to march alongside the wagons just like the adults did. By now they formed the tail end of their trek.

"Rather, only those too weak would need to be left behind. This way, all craftsmen can be saved, while we can guarantee success," the warrior concluded

Reminded of his mission, Fadelio thought back to his friend, and the rift his actions had caused between them during the succession war. Of course. he understood that Corco didn't have any choice but to banish him to the capital for a while. This was the nature of their relationship. They were both bound by their roles, and Fadelio's role was to fulfill Corco's orders. As such, he had failed in his role when he had made his own decision, and thus Corco had been forced to banish him.

However, the warrior had no doubt that his friend only waited for a chance to reverse the decision. This moment was the chance they had waited for. If they could get through adversity and get the craftsmen to Saniya unharmed, they could reverse their previous mistakes. Prioritizing the craftsmen was the right choice, but leaving their children to die in the wilderness felt wrong. Even so, the places on the carts were limited, and the youngsters were weak.

As the last of the trek trudged past him, a little girl no older than ten fell to her knees. Her arms, thin as a stick, sank into the mossy ground as they held up what little weight the girl's skin and bones had. Again it seemed as if fate would force a decision upon him. Last time, he had been forced to oppose his master, and had suffered for it. This time, not only his status would take a hit. This time, people would die over nothing but a noble's pride.

"You're kidding me! Fuck this!" With a vicious curse to shock the elders and impress the children around him, Fadelio bent down to pick up the little girl and put her tiny body under his arm. Like a docile kitten, the girl let herself get handled, after an initial startled squeal.

"Every ghost grabs whoever they can!" he shouted across the trek. "There's no more food today, and tell everyone to drop whatever they don't hold more dear than their lives. We're running until we see the walls of Rumas!"

Of course, his goal was to fulfill his duties and return to his master's side, but he had his own limits. After years with Corco, his humanist nature had rubbed off on him as well. Even though it was the wrong decision, he wouldn't leave anyone behind. He would make sure they all made it through the day, to see a new dawn.

*Stars above, how heavy can these kids be?*

While Fadelio trudged ahead, the burden of responsibility weighed him down.

This burden took the form of children. Since he had taken up the first child earlier in their march, they had added to their ranks. By now he held one child under each arm, and another two clung to his back. Even so, he could keep up with the commoners without much trouble.

As he looked around, he saw the younger and stronger among the craftsmen follow his footsteps, sweat on their face and fear in their eyes. Meanwhile, the ghosts had followed his example and took the burden of those who could not carry themselves. All throughout their human snake were the stronger of the ghosts, all of them with at least another person to weigh them down.

*At least Brym has been spared from this.* As soon as they had gotten word of Pacha's attempted attack, Fadelio had sent the kid away, together with a couple other warriors. At first he had protested, but Fadelio had insisted. Now that war was upon them, there was a good chance that food supplies from the north would be cut off. They would need Brym up there, to organize a few more trips before the borders closed down.

Of course, he had also had another reason to send the kid away: Their path was treacherous, and he didn't want Corco to lose two allies in a single day. Surrounding their formation were the scouts among the ghosts, the ones who would have to be the beacons to light their path.

Even though carrying the children was hard work, the scouts worked even harder. Picked among Emperor Titu's many servants and trained from childhood in the art of pathfinding, the men were thin and tall as reed. Together with the proper cultivation technique, they were most suited for movement in rough terrain. Their light weight made them excellent long-distance runners, but their techniques also improved their eyesight and hearing.

As Fadelio mused on their purpose, one of the scouts showed off his abilities and rushed towards him. Steady steps, like so many before and so many after, brought him alongside the march of his leader.

"Master Fadelio, we've found the border stream up ahead."

"You're sure about that?" he stared at the scout, and could feel the kid under his right arm do the same.

"Of course, Master Fadelio. My brother is a runner and has traveled the distance many times. I did as well, when I replaced him once during times of sickness. Beyond here should be the lands we seek, and the support we need, if Master is correct."

"Don't worry, Lord Nasica will support us."

*He'll have to,* Fadelio suppressed a frown, but his chest tightened further with every step. This was nothing more than a gamble, but hope would carry them farther than desperation.

"In that case, we should be in luck. Beyond these hills is only the small stream, and beyond it we can already see the city."

For once, their intelligence turned out to be right. Only another fifteen minutes and they found themselves on the bank of a small stream. Beyond the stream, off in the distance, he gazed upon the iconic spires of Rumas, the blue city. Rumas would be their salvation, as it was home of the religious lord Nasica, the very same who had supported Corco during the succession war.

Once again, Nasica would have to save them from certain defeat. With his heightened senses, Fadelio could already hear the drums of war, and see the banners move above the city walls. Soon Nasica's men would move out, to protect their borders. Not even Pacha would be dumb enough to attack a lord under his own administration over a few craftsmen. At least not if he didn't want to risk the shaky alliance of opportunists he had assembled around himself.

In fact, only a single obstacle stood in their way if they wished to reach their safe haven. The Anqua River was only a small, insignificant stream, but it marked the border between Pluritac land and the territory of Nasica. Even so, crossing would not be trivial. Though the waters of the stream were shallow, its drag was much more severe than they had thought before.

"Master Fadelio, the rain must have swelled the waters. This servant has to apologize for his negligence."

As soon as he reached the shoreline, Fadelio put down his school of children and leaned forward to inspect their only path ahead.

"Doesn't matter. The ford is still visible under the water, so we can get everyone through here if we just take our time."

"Joyous news!" Rimaq shouted behind them. By now, everyone had caught up, and the representative of the craftsmen had caught up with the king's official to gather information. "Soon we will be saved."

"Indeed," the ghost didn't spare a single look for the mortal. "This servant will begin to organize the commoners post-haste."

Right as salvation knocked on their door, they heard another sound behind them, a whistle from the woods, to add to the drums from the city.

"Aaah, crap." Fadelio clenched his teeth, and his hands reached for his axe before he realized.

"Wait, what does that sound mean?" sporting a dull face, the papermaker looked between the ghost and the official. Rather than focus on the nuisance, Fadelio's eyes stared at the singing arrow that had been shot into the sky, the one which had produced the noise.

"That means that our enemies are hot on our heels. And it's more than just a scouting party."

"A small force, at least," the ghost added.

"Lord, will we be okay?" from within the huddle of children, one boy stepped ahead and asked with a tremor in his voice.

"You'll be fine, brat," Fadelio winked before he turned to the ghost once more. "We'll make our stand here. Get a rope across to help the commoners cross the stream. This is the last stretch, so let's make it count... and let's hope Pacha's followers are as useless as their king."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

140 Weaklings

"Go, go! Move it!"

When Fadelio's scream ran across the clearing and across the fording, another of the older master craftsmen stumbled on the slick rocks of the stream and fell to his knees. At least the ghosts had constructed a rope across the waters for the commoners to pull along on. With their bodies secured, no one had been injured on their path through the shallow name river. However, after all this time the commoners still hadn't crossed the stream. Never before had Fadelio been this annoyed with the mortals. At last, he understood the contempt the lords had always shown towards them.

*Weaklings.*

Even so, Fadelio wouldn't give up on them. By now their lives weren't the most important issue, and neither was his commitment towards his lord. Now it was a matter of principle. How could he allow Pacha to win, the little idiot? The peacock king had been left to play tyrant for all his life, and it was high time someone finally stood up to him.

"Master, here they come!"

When Fadelio turned to the voice of the ghost warrior, the enemy had appeared from within the woods Though they had shown themselves out in the open, they looked anything but ready. Their enemies were long and gangly in stature, as their armors hung loose off their bony shoulders.

*Doable.*

Since they had sped up, they had become tough to catch. All Pacha could do was to equip his fast scouts and rush after them. The idiot king's scouts didn't have time to set up any ambushes, which was where their strengths lay. They would also be exhausted from the long march, so central confrontation would be costly for them as well, despite their superior numbers. Even so, now that they were this close, they would pose a constant threat. Fadelio and his ghosts would have to stand on defense and get themselves ready if they wanted to protect the commoners.

"All men to me!" Fadelio's deep voice ran across the shoreline, and the ghosts followed his command. While their ghost troop was also comprised of many scouts, almost half of them were good, proper warriors. And they had one more advantage: Pacha's troops looked loose, collected from various Pluritac territories and possibly the estates of the king's various allies. The ghosts, however, had been trained as one unit for years. At once their numbers collected into a solid formation, to bolster their strength. Only seconds after the enemy had appeared, they had taken a half-moon shape, to protect the crossing behind them.

Of course, the scouts on the other side did what scouts would do best: skirmish.

Once they had made their presence felt and saw that the ghosts wouldn't abandon the commoners to the waters, about ten of them marched out of the formation. Although they presented a crude mix of bows and spears, Fadelio would never underestimate them. This was the sort of weapon the scouts would be most experienced with, so the ghosts had done their own preparations.

"Shields!" the master shouted, and his warriors closed the gaps between them. About twenty of them raised their shields to form a solid wall of wood and metal between the two armies. The central shields had been reinforced with parts of their wagons. Though their size and instability would make them useless in open combat, they needed to deal with the skirmishing first and foremost. After all, they couldn't just charge the ranged enemy troops and leave the craftsmen unguarded.

To no avail, the arrows and spears struck the wood before them. At the same time, the cries of donkeys proved the fate of the animals who had carried the wood to this spot. While the loyal beasts made the ultimate sacrifice, the warriors pressed their bodies behind the shields and hoped they wouldn't get unlucky with a stray hit. As they waited, Fadelio looked behind. Within the stream, some of the commoners were frozen in shock, as they looked upon the horrors of war for the first time in their lives. At the same time, arrows rained down between the warriors and commoners, and splashed into the waters.

*Useless,* he thought, of both commoners and scouts. While the commoners were trying their hardest to get killed, the scouts did nothing but waste arrows. There was a reason for their half-moon formation after all. With their short-bows and throwing spears, the scouts would never get enough distance to reach the commoners. Not unless they wanted to get within charging distance of the warriors before them. Like this, they only wasted ammunition, and it would bring them ever closer to their doom.

Just like Fadelio thought, the hail of spears soon stopped, to only leave the rain of arrows behind. Since they had been on a forced march just to catch up to them, the scouts couldn't carry enough ammunition for a serious attack. If Pacha's troops wanted to make any sort of trouble for them, they would have to-

"Attack from the right!" he heard a shout from behind.

"Damn," Fadelio cursed, and put aside his shield. Although he would be more vulnerable like this, he needed to see this for himself. While the sight of the ghosts had been blocked by their own shields, the enemy melee troops had used the chance to march around to their right flank. This was exactly what he had been worried about. Since they had to defend the entire ford with only a few dozen men, their formation was stretched thin as a twig, easy to break. All the enemy had to do was to mass on one spot and break through their ranks. This was just about the worst case scenario.

Just as he moved his shield back into position, he could feel a heavy object slam into it, and push him half a step back. His soles dug deep into the muddy sand.

"Damn again." They hadn't run out of spears, they were only waiting for a good chance to use them. As soon as their center would turn to support their flank, the enemy would rain spears and arrows into their sides. Whoever was in charge of Pacha's scouts, they were a capable commander.

Annoyed, Fadelio holstered his axe and picked up the megaphone below his feet.

"Left flank! Charge! Center, after me!" As soon as his words had rang over the battlefield, the ghost formation sprang to life. While the center turned to support the enemy, he could hear screams of war from behind him, as their left flank rushed towards the skirmishers. Of course they wouldn't be able to catch specialized scout cultivators, but they didn't have to. All they needed was some time to drive them away until they could stabilize the flank.

However, they would have to work hard for it. When Fadelio rushed towards the shouts in his right ear, he could see the chaos of war he had been so far away from for the past year. Already the armored enemy had pushed back his own troops. The half-moon formation had been dented, about to break apart. While the enemy warriors lacked the physical strength to break through in their first charge, their superior numbers and the momentum from their speed were enough to buckle the defense of the ghosts. Already, the attack had left its traces. As he watched, another ghost was pushed to the ground by an enemy's shoulder. Before he could get back up, the scout's axe had lodged itself in his torso. This ghost had been the last to connect their lines. Another two steps for the enemy and their formation would be split.

"Chaaarge!"

With the heart of the desperate, Fadelio stormed into the gap. His mass shoved the enemy scout out of the way, back into several of his comrades. For a second, the raging waves of war turned gentle, as all focused on the giant beast that had arrived to tip the balance.

*Space, for now.*

"Don't let them break through! Support is on the way!" he shouted. Even though he said so, he really didn't know. Rather than look beyond the stream and hope for help from Nasica, he would take matters into his own hands, like he had done so many times before.

His axe held in both hands, he rushed towards a cluster of Pacha scouts. Mighty swings forced the soldiers back. Whenever they had to use their shields, the scouts were thrown around like children. Even though he had no shield to protect himself, Fadelio's reach and power alone were enough to make him invincible. Soon the breach had been closed, stopped up for the moment by the ghosts from their center. His muscles burned and pulsed, as Fadelio stepped back from the front line of battle. By now the remaining ghosts, the ones with proper shields, had already caught up. They had stabilized the flank. By now, all of their troops were committed.

However, as Fadelio stepped into the second row to catch his breath, he realized the enemy's strategy at last, realized that he had been maneuvered into their trap. Now all the ghosts were balled up on their right flank, with no one left to hold the center. Their left flank had disappeared into the woods, nowhere to be seen. They couldn't just turn or their backs could expect the enemy arrows and spears, so they wouldn't be of help anymore.

All that free space left behind by their right and center had been taken up. By now the ghosts' formation was balled together, to form a compact circle. The shouts of enemy troops could be heard on three sides, while the stream was still in their back. Even though the enemy now had a clear path into the fording, the craftsmen should have already crossed. Even if they hadn't, the scouts didn't make any attempts to pursue.

*Crap, they're going for us.*

This should have been obvious from the start, and Fadelio felt stupid for his mistake. Pacha had never really been interested in the commoners. He just needed an excuse to kill Corco's warriors. Worse, the annoying official who had made Pacha's life so hard during the Triumvirate Meetings would probably be the main goal of this operation. Worst case, the scouts would have been asked to catch him alive.

Thus the fighting slowed. No longer did the enemy show the urge to overrun them. Instead, they kept constant, low pressure on their formation, to force them into submission. As the enemy troops took turns to poke and prod at their turtle shell, the breath of the ghosts turned labored. As they lost precious water, the stream below their feet began to mirror the stream behind them.

Safety was so close, yet so far. Already he had noticed the final part of their enemy's plan: Along both sides of their formation, along the stream, the scouts had positioned bola and net throwers. Any warrior stupid or desperate enough to entrust himself to the waters would be bound, to die in the most humiliating way. There was no escape, no way out.

Desperate, Fadelio swung his axe again. Once more, an enemy jumped back, to make some temporary room. But at the same time, he could see the scouts in the corner of his eye pressure forward, to isolate him from the rest of his men. If he tried to break their formation and create more room to improve their position, they would surround and capture him. Never would he let Pacha succeed! Even if he had underestimated the peacock this time, an idiot was still an idiot.

So they fought on, and turned a battle into a tug of war. As Fadelio's legs grew heavy in the mud, his mouth opened ever further. By now his clean robes were drenched in blood, a sight to no doubt command respect from all the officials in Arguna. Even so, Fadelio could gain no measure of comfort from the thought. Another cry of fear and pain told him of another fallen comrade, another man of his father's and master's he had lost to his own hubris.

His head shot over, to count the numbers they had left, and guess how much longer they could hold out. But then it happened: Exhausted and distracted, he could hear fleet steps rush in from his front. When he turned, the enemy had already achieved his goal, and Fadelio could see the net fly towards him.

*Useless,* he thought as he let go of his axe. Melee weapons would only get in the way now, and he aimed to make things as hard as possible on his enemies.

"Save the master!" he heard from behind.

"I got him!" he heard from the front.

"Hold the line!" he shouted at his men.

Soon he could see the one who had celebrated his capture. A self-satisfied little beast, half his size and weight. With clever little tricks, the rats had maneuvered him all the way here, but he also wasn't out of tricks just yet.

With a massive boom, the wheel lock pistol unloaded in the enemy's chest and threw him back into the enemy ranks. At the same time, Fadelio used the recoil to force his bound body back, into the safety of his men. He didn't know what had happened to the enemy commander, but it didn't matter, not now.

As his face splashed into the mud, His eyes turned across the stream.

*So close!*

Already, the troops of Lord Nasica had reached the shorelines, the commoners safe behind them.

"Here they come! Retreat!" one of Pacha's scouts called. Like the rats they were, the enemy troops disappeared into the forest within moments. At last, the nightmare was over. At least for now, they would be safe.

Exhausted, Fadelio's face dropped into the mud, and the world went dark.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

141 Opening a Path

At the foot of the hill, a crag split the lands north to south, like a giant had drawn it with a shaky hand. On the hills around Cashan, the great troops of the region had come to meet and plan the future. On the crag's right sat the troops of Pahuac Villca, back from their mountain homes to welcome their king. On the left sat the bandits of Uchu Villca, here to take revenge for their leader.

Behind the hill sat the king's armies, a giant troop of red, silver and purple. Together the three armies formed an arrow, aimed at Cashan's walls in their south. There, the last of the Villca heirs would be hiding.

At the moment, Corco waited on the hill in the center, and relished the view. Or he would have loved to, at least.

"King Corco, I really do have to protest. I have far too much work back home, so why would I be forced to come along on a military expedition?" Ronnie moaned besides him. His mood ruined, the king turned back to his friend.

"And you only thought about this now? We've been on the march for a week already!" Corco asked. In truth, they could have made it faster, but the southern lords had insisted on constant celebrations and shows of force whenever they came across another city. The vanity of Medalan nobility had really slowed them down.

"Yes, but there has been no time for a talk." Ronnie said. A poor excuse, no doubt.

"Is that really the only reason you're here? You know we need someone who can handle the black powder, and I really don't trust Mason with that, or with anything important. Not after what he did in Port Ulta. Plus, we'll need a proper doctor once the fighting starts. More than one, actually, but it's a start."

"I'm still not a doctor! I never was one!" Ronnie shouted. At last, Corco's attendant stepped between his master and the fake doctor.

"This is no way to speak to your king! How dare you, foreigner!" Quato shouted, a dark frown on his face.

"Quato, can you give us a second?" As soon as he heard his king's command, the ghost warrior's head shot around. Only a moment and he nodded his head, before he left with a scoff. A sigh on his lips, Corco stared after the warrior. At least Quato listened to him, even if he made sure to show his displeasure with some decisions.

"You can't do that anymore." Corco said at last.

"Do what?" Ronnie asked.

"Don't play dumb with me." The king turned to face the chemist, one brow raised. "I know you're not an idiot, and you're not petty either. You're not here to complain about your job. Back in Saniya, you can do that whenever you want. You wanna talk privately, and this is the only time I'm not surrounded by nobles," Corco surmised. In response, Ronnie's ears turned red.

"It's important, so I had no choice. Maybe I might have overdone things, slightly," Ronnie mumbled.

"You think?" A smirk played around the king's lips. "This isn't Arcavia, and I'm not a merchant anymore. Don't forget that. My position as king means that I can't be lenient with behavior like this. For now, I'll need the reputation with the local lords. At least when others are around, you will always have to show respect. If you overdo it, I might have to send you away for a while until the heat dies down."

Although Ronnie showed an ever-deeper frown, he didn't back down.

"Even so, I found it prudent to speak on this occasion."

"What could possibly be this important, to make that kind of trouble for us?"

Ronnie looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "You said it yourself before, King Corco: There is an issue with Mason. Nahlen as well."

At last Corco understood. All throughout their march, Corco had been surrounded not only by lords, but also by Nahlen's mercenaries. No wonder, as most of his high-ranking officers were part of the wolf mercenaries. Only now, when he would meet with other Medalan nobles outside of his army, had he decided on a purely Medalan guard. Ronnie had taken the chance to tag along, and get some time to talk alone.

"Okay, very clever." Corco raised his hands. "So now you got me by myself. What do you wanna talk about?"

"Master Nahlen lacks basic respect for the office of king," the rude chemist said.

"That's no surprise. All of you Arcavians do," Corco grinned. "Not that I mind too much. The office means nothing if it is held by the wrong man.

"No, that was not my meaning. There is much more to it than simple difference in culture. During our census at the start of the year, I noticed his problematic behavior already, and have since taken a closer look. Over the year, Nahlen has done his best to reshuffle the wolf mercenaries. By now, many of the important positions are taken up by his own people, rather than Sir Dedrick's. Ever since, rumors have spread that you don't intend to pay your debts to the mercenaries, and use your new local armies to drive them out once they are no longer needed. He has also had reduced contact with his captain. There seems to have been a disagreement. I am afraid that Nahlen intends a defection, or at least intends to blackmail King Corco at the most crucial moment."

Although Ronnie's machine gun mouth worked overtime, Corco only had a tired sigh to offer in reply.

"I'm aware of this. After all, I'm the one with the spy network. You're right too, as usual. But what do you want me to do about it right now? Even if we rush the rest of the distance, our army will probably reach Qarasi Castle after Pacha does. If we don't wanna lose the Narrows, we can't take any more delays, or any more infighting. The lords have already slowed us down too much with their constant need for validation."

He thought back to the row of palanquins, as they slowly hobbled along the unpaved roads of the south. Just the same, he was reminded of all the tournaments and duels he had seen on their journey. Of course the lords would notice that Corco was intent on taking over control of their armies. As a result, they put as many petty obstacles in his way as they could, just enough so no one could accuse them of treachery. All the lords wanted was for Corco to slip up to ruin his prestige. He wouldn't play along.

"For now, we'll have to believe that Nahlen's greed will beat out his disloyalty. I will deal with him and his men... in due time."

By now, Ronnie's frown had jumped onto Corco's face as well. They were really facing too many problems all at once.

"King Corco, they are here," he heard a ghost call from the side.

While they had talked, the occupants of the right and left armies had marched up the central hill, to begin this official meeting. Soon after, before the king stood in front of Guachimine Villca and his brother Uchu. Since their last meeting, Guachi still looked the same, a small man who hid in his brother's shadow. Uchu however seemed much changed. Armed with a cane, his cloudy face showed a kind of grit that hadn't been present before. Before, he had seemed foolhardy, but now he appeared like an injured animal. Though of course, he was.

"Uchu Villca greets King Corcopaca," Uchu said.

"It's good to see you recovered well," Corco smiled, as he pressed the guilt back down. In this area he had gained a lot of experience over the last year.

"Yeah, soon I'll make the bastard who did this-"

Interrupted by a dog's bark from the right, Uchu's body stood straight as he shot around to face the intruder. When the giant black beast rushed over, Uchu's two guards stepped ahead to cover their master, just like Guachimine did.

"Argau! Down!" a voice bellowed over the hill's crest. Seconds later, the giant figure a Medalan warrior clad in crimson full-body armor appeared. Called off by his master, the dog let off his prey and returned to his master's feet.

"Good boy," the warrior said, and pet the beast with his gloved hand. With his recognizable features, Corco knew right away who stood before him. Even so, he waited for the last of the Villca heirs to introduce himself.

"Pahuac Villca greets King Corcopaca. Say, is it true you almost killed Pachacutec?" almost as rude as Ronnie, the Villca heir stood straight without a hint of a bow, his right on his axe hilt.

"Well, killing him during the duel would have done more harm than good. So I'd say he was never in any mortal danger." Corco smiled. A bellowing laughter returned from the giant warrior.

"You say that, but what are we doing here then? If you killed Pacha back in Arguna, he couldn't lead an army down south."

Although Corco was convinced that Pacha's death would only mean a more united central kingdom under Divitius Ichilia, he wouldn't argue with a potential ally.

"Yes, and we would never have the chance to beat them back," he said instead. "His brash attack will lead his men right at our doorstep. Soon enough we will destroy them and prove that the south can fight the north on equal terms.. Believe me that."

"Ahaha, A man after my own heart," Pahuac's heavy hand left his axe and landed on the king's shoulder. "Yeah, let's beat them back and show them what the southern men are made of!"

Although his shoulder would probably bruise from the monster's hit, Corco held on to his smile. For now, he was just glad the madman wouldn't challenge him to a duel.

"Since the southern men are so great, they might as well help me deal with my pest problem before they march off to their glory," Uchu's sour voice sounded, as it's owner took a look over Corco's shoulder, back to his ancestral home of Cashan.

"You're not asking an outsider for help, are you!?" Pahuac bellowed, while Argau growled at his feet. In response, Uchu turned to his brother and lowered his stance, ready to pounce.

"Why not? They're right here. All we need is a bit of support and we can take the city in a single day. That'll show that little shit not to mess with me," the bandit growled back. At the same time, he ignored Guachimine persistent tug on his back.

"You have no idea what you're talking about! How could an outsider get involved with the private matters of House Villca! I'm gonna take Epu down myself, how can I let someone else have all that fun?" For a moment, Corco had thought Pahuac was the more reasonable of the Villca sons. Even though the southern lords were annoying, at least they were somewhat predictable. Exasperated by the lack of propriety from the others, he just about managed to stifle a sigh. Atau wold have been much better for this mission. After all, he had dealt with these Villca weirdos all his time. However, for now Atau had a much more important meeting to attend to.

"What nonsense is that?!" Uchu spat on the ground before Pahuac, and turned to face his nominal king. "You want to get your food through my land? Do you, king? In that case, I want your help in reclaiming Cashan. It's a disgrace that Epunamo that bastard is still holed up in there after all this time! I'll make him pay for the hole in my hip!"

"...and then I will trust you to do the right thing and support me, is that it?" Again Corco's eyebrow raised. He really didn't have the time to deal with a family squabble. His own family was enough work already.

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't work for me." Corco rubbed his face, before he stared Uchu right in his eyes. "Look, bandit. Here's how things work with the big boys: If I start to get involved with the internal politics of House Villca, all the other lords are gonna start hating me. What will they think, 'if my brother wants my land he can always strike a deal with the king'? That's terrible, how can the lords ever trust me then? How about you just let your little brother there explain the details to you?" Corco pointed over to the red giant.

"Plus, I'm about to fight a war, and we're rushing to defend the south. The entire south, which includes the land you consider yours. Your own fucking city is right beyond my castle, so how about you start being a little bit grateful, rather than trying to blackmail me? I know you're only starting out, but you're pretty bad at this."

For a moment Uchu's narrowed eyes focused on the king, as the tension rose.

"So what do you want?" he asked.

"Ah, it's really simple. Me and my men get free passage through your territory, and you'll support us with supplies and let our convoys pass. And then, once the war is over, I have more than enough reason to support whoever was the greatest help during the war to me. How does that sound? Isn't that a great idea?" Corco grinned. Of course he knew that this would pit the brothers against each other, but he knew they didn't have a choice, even if they understood his plans.

"In that case, I'll get you half a company of my best men. You have the free passage already. Atau talked to me on his way to Port Ulta, so you're all good there," Pahuac's loud voice boomed over the hill.

"My men are willing to support the king," Uchu sneered. "We can move your supplies over the rivers and through the Narrow Sea. I'll also get some extra people to help out. Once you get into a real fight, you'll see that they are the greatest fighters on the twin isles. So you best be careful king, cross me and my men will aim their weapons at you instead." With his last threat spoken, Uchu turned and left the hill. Meanwhile, Guachimine stayed behind, rather than follow his older brother.

"Well then, this was a lot of fun," Pahuac said and pat his dog's head again. "I'll enjoy watching you lead this army. Let's see what the young hero Pachacutec has to offer."

"Wait, you're gonna join the king's war?" Guachimine's eyes opened wide.

"HAHAHA! Of course. Or should I stay in the mountains while you guys fight to the death up there? I want some of that fun for myself, so I'll just take a slice." The red giant's grin turned sharp, before he turned to leave. However, even after his brothers had left, Guachimine still stood across the king.

"King Corcopaca," he said. "please excuse my brother's uncouth behavior. He is not used to the stiffness of the courts."

"It's fine," Corco waved off. "Just tell him he won't get his revenge on Epunamo until he's helped me defend the south."

"Indeed. This servant also wishes to make King Corco understand something: Although my brother might be new to the courts, I have been entrenched in noble etiquette for all my life. I understand 'qui bono'. After we had escaped the assassination attempt in Saniya, I began to ask myself who stood to gain the most from our current circumstances."

For the first time since he had come south, Corco's chest tightened. Even so, he tried his hardest to retain a poker face. Although he was the weakest and quietest among the Villca brothers, all of a sudden the rat seemed the most dangerous.

"Never forget this, King Corco: There are many clever men in this world. For now, this arrangement is to our mutual benefit, as it is to Uchu's. However, our relationship is not as one-sided as King might wish to believe. Do remember this."

And with those final words, the rat turned and left the hill, to return to the shadow's behind his new master. His frown still retained, the king looked beyond the small hills, to the massive mountains in the north. Beyond the horizon, alongside the Sallqata mountains, Pacha's army would already close in on Qarasi Castle. For now, he had dealt with the small picture stuff. His men could pass through the entire south, and all possible rebellions were suppressed for the moment. Soon, he would have to deal with the bigger picture: His first genuine outside threat.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

142 Glory

Sharp eyes gleamed towards the goal of their journey. Behind his back, he could feel the support from his men, one and all ready to sacrifice themselves for their king. However, although his warriors were ready to prove their honor, many of his subordinate lords lacked the vigor of their forefathers.

"King Pacha, we should be careful in our further approach. The men are tired after all," a shaky voice came from his side. Annoyed, King Pachacutec of the Central Kingdom turned his eyes to see the weakling who dared call himself his ally. Lord Rupilo wasn't an old man, with long black hair and only a hint of crows feet around his eyes, but he had the spirit of someone in the dusk of his life.

"Silence your tongue, weakling! Look upon my men and weep." Once Pacha had reprimanded his tardy underling, he turned on his heels to find the combined forces of the central kingdom. Red on silver, his great men sat around the encampment and caught their breath from their long march.

Skirmishers, archers, climbers, core and shock infantry, all of them ready to give their lives for his great cause. And in the front sat his greatest, the famous silver warriors of House Pluritac, dressed in silver lamellar armor and with their famous tiger helmets. The capes had been his own recent addition, one the king was quite proud of.

Even though Pacha had decided to fight Corco without support from his Uncle Divitius, these were still the greatest forces in all of Medala, of that he had no doubt. With them he wouldn't need the poisoned chalice from House Ichilia, support for subservience.

Rather than rely on his uncle's questionable loyalty, he had commanded the service from all kinds of lords within his kingdom, and still managed to assemble a full sixty-thousand warriors. His own Pluritac men alone were around eight thousand, elite troops ready to show Corco the strength of the northern fist.

"How could you deny these brave men their destiny?" Pacha said, still focused on his mighty troops, rather than his worthless allies. "We will crush the southern monkeys like waves upon straw huts. For generations to come, the commoners of Arguna will sing hymns of glory about these warriors of Pluritac. Who are you to say otherwise?"

"...however, an attack from the front is too dangerous for now. We need more information on their defenses before we can choose our approach," Rupilo said behind his back, his voice still weak.

"What defenses?" Pacha smiled. As his smile turned sneer, he stared over to the laughable excuse for a fortification his brother had put in their way.

In their way stood the old Qarasi Castle,. sSlanted walls lead up an artificial hill of raised earth, with traditional Medalan houses on top. Although the construction was simple, the Arga River in the south made any attack from Sachay near-suicidal.

When he had visited the Narrows many years ago, Qarasi Castle had been weak on its northern side, but by now, the southerners had made it ready for war, or tried to at least. A total of four spokes stretched out from the sides of the original castle, created from two walls each. Once additional spokes could be added to the back of the castle, the whole construction would look like a star.

"This is barely enough to consider an obstacle, let alone dangerous," Pacha concluded "Qarasi will be nothing more than a stepping stone in our righteous path to the usurpation of the south. What my ancestors failed at, I will achieve. We will rush through the Narrows like a flood, and in death, will bring honor the south had never known. Only through a stern hand can we pacify the barbarians, once and for all!"

"Even so, a frontal attack on a castle seems unwise, even more so with the men tired after a forced march. Maybe Lord Rupilo has a point," Pacha's father, Elder Caelestis, said. Even now, the old man bothered Pacha to no end. Despite the fact that he was a member of the Ancestral Hall, the shell of a man had come along to support Pacha on his first campaign.

Of course, the young king understood what the old man wanted to do: He wanted to control him, keep him on the leash, for his fake wife from the Ichilia clan. However, Pacha didn't mind keeping Caelestis around. In fact, he relished the chance to show his father just how capable he was, that he didn't need anyone's help to achieve his goals. Whether or not Caelestis wanted to control Pacha, in the end, the king held all the power. He could always just say no if he disagreed with a decision. Just like he would do right now.

"What sort of front do you speak of all this time?" Pacha said to the old men who would bar his path. "Have your eyes gone rotten with the years? Have your minds? At your age, how do you not know about the history of Qarasi Castle? It was built by House Pluritac as a way to defend the Narrows from southern attacks. The walls in the north are thin, and even the river runs along its southern wall. We will not attack the front, we will attack the castle's weak and exposed back before the defenders can summon reinforcements. How could this ever be considered a rash or dangerous action?"

"However, King Pacha, the King of the South has changed much of Qarasi's new layout. All throughout the year, my men have spotted building projects along the northern walls. Prudence is a virtue after all."

"Hmmm..." As the king strained his wisdom, he looked about the ugly gray outcroppings along the north side of the wall, like glaciers running off a mountain top. "I don't understand the point of such a construction. Would this sort of wall not only make approaches easier and increase the surface area for our ladders and grapples to attack?"

Of course, Pacha understood the weakness of these new walls right away. From childhood, he had been educated in the ways of battle. He would understand best how to and how not to deal with an attack from cultivators. When under siege by a superior number of foes, this sort of construction would only stretch the defenders thin, and make life easy on the attackers.

"Even so, King Corco might lack experience, but he still has a competent staff, and the southern lords know war. Your brother wouldn't do this without a reason," Caelestis butted in again.

"Who is that southern monkey's brother!?" With the furor of a great leader Pacha turned for only a moment, but it was enough to let his coward father shrink back in his seat. No matter what, Pacha would never be like Caelestis. Never be a coward. With the central armies under his control, there was nothing to fear. Soon, all lords of Medala would cower beneath his feet.

Once Caelestis had been reigned in, Pacha returned back to more important issues. After all, the elder would never pose a problem. He didn't have the stomach for it. Instead, the king's mighty gaze returned to the bizarre constructions along the castle's north side.

"What is that thing made out of anyways?" he asked with a look at the walls. Like spokes on a wheel the six structures cropped out from the base walls and formed three triangles along the castle's outer perimeter. "From the gray color, they look almost like stone. How did they get it this smooth?" Despite his vigor, he wouldn't storm into problems like he used to. Pacha had learned. For now, he would collect information, and then use it to crush his enemies with swift force. Just like Amautu and Corco always did.

"It should not be, King Pacha," Makipura, the lord of the southern province said from the back of the command tent. All this time he had been neighbor to the southerners, yet he hadn't acted at all. Just like his penchant to remain unseen in these meetings, it only further proved the lord's weakness. "Although we have been neighbors with the southern king's men for almost a year now, our contact has been very limited. Once construction on the castle began, we attempted to send several envoys, but were denied entry."

"Arrogant southern dogs!" Pacha spat on the torn earth.

"Arrogant is correct, King Pacha. However, we have placed several Eagle-eyed close to the enemy encampment and managed to learn more about their production method. It appears as if the southerners constructed a kind of mould from wood around the space for the walls before they poured a fluid into them. When the wood was removed, the smooth gray surface was revealed."

"Hmmm... so it would be a type of paper?" Pacha sneered. This was just like Corco, trying to solve all of his problems with books alone.

"Very wise, King Pacha. Indeed, we believe it to be a type of wood pulp, reinforced with either glue or lacquer," lord name confirmed his king's suspicions.

"That's great! We can try to storm them first, but even if they manage to hold us off for a while, we can always use rams or fire to destroy them. Use the rams and collapse the walls. That way we create a ramp right into the heart of their castle. Use the fire and we can smoke out their entire horde. No matter how I look at this, these walls seem like nothing but suicide."

Every time he looked at the construction, a wider sneer stole itself onto the king's face. How could his brother be so ridiculous? Surely, he had tried to be too clever again, but Pacha knew that trying anything new in combat would never stand up against the methods refined and tested for generations. No matter what tricks his brother would play, he would poke and prod until he found the weakness. Then the king could break the trickery with impunity.

"Even so, we should be careful, " Rupilo said, his voice still as weak as his stomach.

"'Careful, careful, careful'. Always hesitant, are we? Maybe that's why you switched sides four times in the last year." King Pacha stared Rupilo down. Although the lord's eyes shook, he did nothing, just like Pacha's father had. This was something else Pacha had learned. Many of these lords were nothing more than paper tigers, men who pretended strength to hide their weakness. They would be easy to lead once he could prove his worth in combat.

"Why should we be careful?" Pacha asked, and his eyes returned back towards the castle, the first obstacle in his conquest of the south. "To give that southern monkey and his armies time to catch up here? No, by the time Corco reaches Qarasi, he will find his pretty new castle fly my flag, and nothing else."

As Pacha's sneer disappeared, it was replaced by a grim mien. Of course, he wouldn't fear anything, not with the armies of the central kingdom in his back. Even so, he would avoid confrontation with Corco if he could. His defeat during their duel still weighed heavy on his mind. Never before had he felt a humiliation like that. Never again would he let it happen. He would crush Corco in direct confrontation, and make up this shame. But only when his win was assured would he face his brother. The southern's king's nasty tricks had blindsided Pacha once, but he would never let it happen again. No tricks, no games. Only a frontal engagement in open plains would settle their dispute. Until he could face Corco under those conditions, the fearless Pacha would avoid a fight, not out of lack of courage, but out of prudence alone.

"Elder Caelestis, tell our climbers to get ready," he made his final decision as his sneer returned. "We will take Qarasi Castle before nightfall!"
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

143 Purpose

Up close, Qarasi Castle looked far more impressive than it had from within the central army's camp. Like the winding curves of a snake, the smooth, gray walls towered above Yucao, into the sky. His stomach contracted, and he felt reminded of a giant, gray leviathan, laid around the castle to obstruct their path. However, even in the face of mythical beasts Yucao had no fear. For he was one of the great climbers of House Pluritac, and his mission was to scale Qarasi Castle. All his life he had been trained for this very purpose, so what was there to be afraid of? Even more, he could count on the support from his many brothers.

With a look around, Yucao saw many warriors march on the castle, climbers like himself. Compared to the stocky builds of the core troops, the climbers were fast and nimble, with powerful arms. Their unique training and cultivation made it easy for them to close in on enemy structures, and allowed them to scale any sort of wall with ease. Like shock-troops in an open field, the climbers were trained to overwhelm the defenses of defensive structures. Even more so, their greatest strength lay in the capture of understaffed castles, like the one before them.

After he saw his spirited allies look up towards the crest of the gray walls, their goal, he looked down onto his own equipment, a frown on his face. Rather than his usual rope and claw, he had been left with nothing but a torch and a clay jug of oil. According to their commander, the new walls of Qarasi were made of paper, so his role this time was to burn them and produce chaos on the walls. However, there was no glory in burning down men of Medala. His glory was his cry of triumph once he had conquered the enemy's walls, or their gates. When he had proven that there was no obstacle too high for his bravery was when he had fulfilled his purpose and brought glory upon his family..

Instead, other men would have this honor. According to the plans of the generals, the four hundred climbers before him and would take fire for him and the others stuck with torches. They would keep the enemy busy until he could reach the walls and burn them to the ground. However, Yucao was sure that his own services would not be required. Rather, they might just get in the way. With the construction of these additional walls, their enemies had created countless spots for their claws to attack, countless spots to climb. How could a small garrison like the one inside Qarasi ever hold them back if they spread themselves so thin?

If they began to burn the walls when their own men were already on top, it would only cause casualties among their own men, his own fellow climbers. While Yucao envied his fellows for their chance at glory, he wasn't petty enough to kill them over it.

Even more, he was unwilling to attack the castle in the first place. After all, he had been trained to spread the glory of House Pluritac. How could he be happy about an attack on Pluritac land? Even though King Pachacutec was his nominal ruler, he wasn't comfortable with an attack on the eldest son of the emperor.

Thus, as they received their orders to charge the castle and fulfill their purpose, he held back, and fell behind his company. It wasn't hard, since the chaos of war had gripped the Narrows already. Once he had fallen behind his company, he found enough space to observe the horrible massacre that was about to unfold.

At first, the climbers decided to attack the base of the star-shaped walls, close to the castle proper. If they could climb these spots, they would soon reach the center of the castle, and they would also leave walls behind themselves for their allies to attack. However, as soon as they stepped between the gray star walls of Qarasi, all hell broke loose. Bangs from above announced the arrival of gunfire, and soon the first of House Pluritac's famous climbers lost his life. As if stung by an invisible monster, his body twitched into a stiff posture. He stumbled a few more steps, before he fell to the ground, a bloody hole in the back of his head. Soon screams of agony filled the air as the warriors of Pluritac fell to the ground. Even then, for everyone they lost another two would take their place, like an endless flood.

This much resistance they had expected. Their lord had already seen these weapons called matchlocks in action during the succession war, and would have been prepared for their impact on the battle. Unperturbed, the climbers rushed ahead, as archers did the same. In fact, the archers were similar in build to Yucao's compatriots, and they often trained together. Though of course they were far less mobile, as they would often hide behind infantry to do their damage.

Soon the sacrifices of the climbers had allowed them to rush into the empty space between the two walls. Bows tensed, they began to pepper both sides with arrows, to force the enemy troops into cover and reduce the impact of the matchlocks.

However, the foreign warriors atop the walls still wouldn't let up. Even though he was no scout, Yucao's eyes were still better than most and he could see the problem right away: All throughout the archer's barrage, the enemy muskets could stay behind cover to reload. They would only surface for the actual shot and could then hide once more. Unlike a bow, the new guns were perfect for sieges. The enemy wouldn't have to remain standing throughout the entire reloading process. Thus, even though the archers were better trained and fired much faster than their enemies atop the walls, they failed to suppress the fire of the defenders.

While the musket men had been busy with the archers, the climbers had made their way all the way across the battlefield, and onto the foot of the castle walls. Soon they threw their claws, but a surprising amount failed to connect with the top. Many wouldn't hook onto anything up above, and fall back down without purpose. Something must have been odd about the walls to reduce the effectiveness of the hooks. As battle progressed, the screams from among the ranks of Yucao's allies increased even further. Although he couldn't see the foot of the wall well through the chaos of battle, this made no sense. How could the climbers still get attacked? Weren't the gun weapons near useless when the enemy was right below? Wouldn't the ball ammunition slip from the barrel? That was one reason all traditional Medalan walls were built at a slant: It made fire much more comfortable for the defenders, be it stone, arrow or gun.

However, the enemy seemed to have no trouble with their straight walls. Despite their bravery, the climbers had little success. Halfway up the walls, several men forced their way up towards their claws, but y wouldn't find purpose. Once more Yucao saw a climber fall off his perch. Not even his rope up above had been cut. Instead, the man just screamed and fell from a deadly height, as if struck by invisible lightning. This was no attack, no glorious storm for the warriors of Pluritac. It was a slaughter.

At last Yucao's feet sped up again. All this time he had kept back, to not get in the way of his own allies. However, now he decided to rush forward. Even if the fires were a double-edges sword, at least they would bind many of the attackers who would be busy with attempts to stem the flames, while the smoke would reduce visibility for the enemy gunmen.

Only now did Yucao realize he had stood there for minutes, stock-still. His first step felt like his legs stuck in knee-high mud, but with every step his vigor returned. Determined to save the great climbers of Pluritac, Yucao rushed ahead. Past the archers, who had scattered from the fierceness of the enemy fire. Their formation gone, they hid behind bodies and debris, many of them bleeding and injured. Many others came across him on their flight away from the battle field. Most wouldn't have the stomach for this type of warfare. Of course, Yucao was different. He was a climber, the elite siege storm of House Pluritac.

Further he rushed, past the corpses of his fallen comrades, men just as brave as he. Someone held onto his leg, a bloody hand attached to a dying man.

*No time.*

Rather than comfort one man's spirit, he would save many. Now his mission was more important than a life, more important than anything. A deadly projectile whizzed past his ear as he stepped over his dying comrade, and another ten steps down. As soon as the walls surrounded the warrior, the air was filled with angry bees of lead, ready to sting to death whoever would dare venture into their lands. Even so he pressed on unperturbed, as the blood rushed in his ears and a mix of sweat and dirt took the sight in his left eye. Many of his allies had made it to the walls, and so would he.

At last, he reached his goal, his companions. There they were, huddled together at the foot of the walls, and at last Yucao understood why their attacks had failed. Rather than focus on the enemy up above, their vulnerable backs were turned to the gray paper walls, towards the walls across. Once more the shots whizzed past his head, and at last he began to understand. His allies hadn't died from attackers above, they had died from attackers across.

While his feet worked still on their own, his head turned. In horror he saw another company of climbers, across a gap of death, as they were huddled together just the same as the men on their own side. Over a distance of no more than 100 feet, the two halves of the army stared at each other from behind shields, watched each other die one by one. Like this, they would soon break and lose everything, their lives and their honor. Luckily, there was something Yucao could do.

"Out of my way!" he screamed, and pushed his body past their formation, always closer to his final goal. If only he could reach the paper walls, if only he could turn them to fire, the climbers would still have a chance. He wouldn't earn any glory, but at least his companions could regain their focus. With the enemy distracted, the other climbers could strive for purpose along the walls. If nothing else, they could use the enemy confusion to make their retreat.

His mind only focused on the safety of his allies, Yucao didn't even consider the remaining men of his company, the other torch bearers who had rushed ahead. But soon he found them, huddled beyond the wall of shields, baffled and confused masses.

"Move!" he shouted again, as someone tried to push him back. No matter what the others did, he would be damned if they would fail here. All their lives they had been trained for this one moment, the one chance to lead House Pluritac to glory. Even if there was no glory in arson, he wouldn't be perturbed. He would bring them victory, even if he had to burn every southerner on the twin Isles.

At last he pushed past his company, and towards his purpose. Right before his eyes was the gray mass of paper he had aimed for at the start of his sprint, the walls that had proven unscalable. So fierce, yet so fragile. Wasn't it only paper? A single push would be enough to topple the defenses. Yucao would be the one to give that push! With all the force in his powerful arms, he flung the pot of oil onto the walls, where it burst and splattered the fire starter all across the surface. Not a second later he himself reached the spot, and his torch ignited the walls themselves! The oil burned bright as it rose into the night, to destroy the paper and save them all!

His momentum carried him into the wall and forced the air out of his lungs, but he didn't care. Even if he burned up in his inferno, he would save many more lives thank his own. Any one of his companions was worth as much as him, so his life would not be given in vain. Once the paper fire had erased his body in this world, he would find solace with his ancestors in the next.

However, the flaming inferno he had awaited never came. Only besides him, the oil still sizzled on the walls. His hands touched the cold, hard surface beside him. While the fire to his right fizzled out, his fingers brushed over the porous wall. How could this be? So smooth, so seamless?

"Stone?" he wondered, before another wasp stung the back of his head. For a few more moments, he looked up the wall, into the sunlight. The leviathan looked higher than ever. In the end, there had been no purpose for him.

For the last time in his life, Yucao closed his eyes.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

144 Supply and Demand

"This turned out a lot easier than I thought."

From his balcony, Dedrick looked onto the enemy's attack, or whatever one could call what they had mustered. By now King Pacha had given up on his attempts to just rush them down with fast cultivators, so the business of small troops rushing between the walls was gone.

Instead, they had been replaced by front line infantry with heavy armor, as well as an array of siege weapons. They had brought not only ladders and rams, but even their own cannons, chunky, unwieldy beasts straight from Chutwa.

"It is true. These modern weapons have the ability to bridge the gap between mortals and cultivators." Tama shouted beside Dedrick. When he turned, he saw the woman stand beside him, though he hadn't heard her move. Rather than focus on the boss' new spy master, he looked back to the battlefield. Soon he nodded to confirm the woman's assertion.

Even the armored cultivators couldn't push through Qarasi's walls of lead. While they did better against the guns from a distance, their survival rate dropped as soon as they got closer. Once they reached the foot of the walls, their guns were strong enough to punch through even the heavy armor. Even worse, the heavy armor of the cultivators prevented them from climbing the walls at all. Instead, they were stuck at the bottom and hoped for their siege instruments to clear the way for them. However, they had rounded the tops of their concrete walls when they moulded them, so any hooks and ladders were easy to push off.

"What, are you trying to say my men are mortals? The wolves are cultivators as well, I'll have you know," Dedrick grinned, and looked at his men spread all across the walls. Over the years, he had been involved in a great many battles, but so far, this one looked like one of the most one-sided. Even his warriors smiled as they reloaded their guns behind the crenelation. Never had they looked this happy without any loot in sight.

A bang from the side ruined his mood, as it did his ears. By now, a persistent bird had nested within them, and ruined his day. He really should follow the spy master's example next time. With envy, he looked to the cotton she had stuffed into her ears to save herself from the incessant chirping of the invisible birds. With that sort of modern cotton technology, maybe the king's great modern empire could save his hearing until the time he was rich enough to retire. Although he couldn't hear her snort, Dedrick could still see it well enough, as he could her slight grin. Even though he didn't like her attitude, Dedrick still followed Tama inside, away from the inferno outside. At least the walls dimmed the noise a bit.

"Compared to the men of House Pluritac, your wolves are nothing more than pups," Tama shouted as she pulled out the cotton. "The warriors of the emperor's clan are chosen from birth and trained from childhood, all for a singular purpose, be they climbers, linemen, storm guards, scouts, runners. All of them have their own unique cultivation technique and physical training, all of them designed to maximize their abilities on the field of battle and off it. What are your men but a bit stronger than the average commoner? They are ordinary warriors, trained in the most lowly form of Pluritac cultivation for a few scant years. That would make them nothing more than servants in the house of Pluritac. How could they ever be compared to real cultivators?`"

Another cannon fired, and Dedrick could see the heavy iron ball land around an enemy cannon. Although there were still a few cannons left for King Pacha, most had either been destroyed or abandoned. High up on the walls, their own weapons had an insurmountable advantage. Their cannons had larger calibers, greater reach, and most importantly, the wolves had far more experience with the weapons.

With their shallow curve, the enemy cannons were almost worthless against the cement walls, where they left no more than a few shallow cracks, easily fixed over night. At the same time, they would be within range of their own.

"Okay, right, all of them are perfect. Really perfect how they scream and die down there." Dedrick's vicious grin was answered by a bored shrug. Although she had shown some talent in organization ever since Tamaya had arrived here, Dedrick really didn't care for her attitude.

"In the end, it is as I said: This shall be a victory of technology over tradition, irrespective of the troops on display. This is the future of combat. Now King Pacha will only need to send more and more of his men into our open trap, until his shaky alliance breaks for good. This way, we would be able to swallow the southern half of his so-called kingdom. Not long and we will be able to reunite the empire, and fulfill Emperor Titu's last wish. Even if the lords of the north refuse to follow us after we have taken the center, with these new weapons we will be able to force them to their knees, under fire and brimstone."

"Don't underestimate that army, girl." Dedrick growled, but she had already looked away. Annoyed, the warrior followed the girl deeper into the room. The small command tower was airy, with balconies on two sides. From the northern balcony, they marched past the table where they had placed their maps and to the southern opening.

"Oh, since when could the idiot Pacha be underestimated? This servant was unaware that such a feat was possible."

Annoyed, Dedrick grabbed the girl's shoulder and turned her around.

"Don't fuck with me, I'm serious. Yeah, we're beating them hard, but they're not losing a ton of troops either. Their first attack was a bit reckless, but it wasn't dumb, considering what they knew. After that. They've committed fewer and fewer men, and their actual losses have been pretty limited. If he was as dumb as you said, this King Pacha would have tried to cross the river long ago, to surround and overwhelm us. Then his whole army would be stuck in no-man's land, and wait to be taken down by our guns."

Dedrick pointed to the trap-filled bog they had created around the small river to their castle's south, before his finger moved back to the north side.

"Look at them though, they're spread out, and careful. They only attack enough to test our limits, and to keep us firing. We're not gonna fall, but this Pacha guy isn't half as dumb as you all make him out to be."

For the first time since the start of battle, Tama stared right at Dedrick. Her frown spoke volumes.

"It appears you have never met King Pacha, warrior. Maybe his men are less, but where is the problem, if I may ask? If they send less warriors, they might not die in droves as before. However, they will still die, one by one. Maybe 'King' Pacha has been a bit more careful than we expected, but he will still continue to send men, until all of them are gone. Pacha is prideful, and he is not used to defeat. He will never give up. When he ordered a storm on Qarasi, out victory was already guaranteed."

"Do you have any clue how much ammo we've wasted so far?" Dedrick asked as his entire features pulled down. Really, no matter how smart Tamaya might have been, she was an obvious amateur when it came to warfare.

"So what if the ammunition is a bit more expensive? Saniya is rich land. We can pay for whatever is needed to defeat the center."

At first, only a sigh escaped Dedrick. Only after a while did he take a heart and deigned the spy worthy of his wisdom.

"Look, so far this is still fine, but we don't have infinite ammo. Yeah, their cultivators aren't free either, but our enemies are one good thought away from a reversal. If the northerners start sending levies rather than proper knights, we'll be in deep trouble. With every shot, we'll make a financial loss, and we'd soon run out of powder too. The boss has saved up a lot over the last couple years, but it's still nothing if we have to keep running our cannons and muskets day and night. At the current rate, we'll run dry within a couple days. Then what do we do?"

"...there is always a way. If they begin to send peasants, we will have to find ways to deal with them in advance. Further, once King Corco's troops arrive here, our numbers will swell enough to hold the enemy back in a melee, gunpowder or not. Then we will have an easy time with the defense, no matter what ignoble tricks Pacha's side comes up with." Despite his own reasonable worries, Tama remained defiant. This one was almost as bad as Corco when he was convinced of something. Just like when he would talk to his boss for too long, the knight's right eye began to twitch.

"And then what? You really think that king down there will continue to attack a well-staffed castle? You might have been calling him an idiot, but he doesn't seem all too silly to me. What if they hold back and just wait? They can completely eliminate the food supplies to the south, and then we're screwed."

"Saniya has had an excellent harvest."

"...which is nowhere near enough to feed the entire south. We'll all starve to death long before winter is over."

"Is that not the very reason we sent Official Atau back to his fleet east? Once he brings back the grain from the northern kingdom, we will be stocked up and ready to face any challenge."

"You always think every plan will work out fine! This is war, nothing every goes the way you think! And we don't have a plan B!"

Right into the heat of their argument, their faces only inches apart, the two were interrupted by a noise from the southern balcony. All of a sudden, the air was filled with twice as many drums as before. Although the castle was now surrounded, everyone within breathed a sigh of relief.

In the distance, the new purple banners of the southern kingdom stretched all across the horizon. King Corco's troops had arrived. One way or another, soon the storm onto Qarasi Castle would end.

__________________________

"Damn it all to the depths!" A goblet of wine flew across Pacha's command tent. "How did they manage to come here this fast? I thought Epunamo would hold them back for a while?" Pacha looked around the tent, where all of his servants stared at the ground. Only his aide, a member of the silver tiger guard and field commander of his troops, would reply to his lord.

"Even if the southern troops are here, we can still capture the castle. Soon the enemy will run out of gunpowder, and then they will be ripe for the slaughter."

For a while, Pacha stared into the distance, as the wine soaked into the ground.

"Call off the attack," he pressed out between his teeth.

"Noble king, we only need to keep mixing armored commoners into the rest of our troops to conserve our losses. Soon, Qarasi will open up to us, and give way to our plunder of the south."

"I said call it off!" Pacha shouted. For a while he only stood and breathed, until he had calmed his mind. Anger wouldn't help, no matter how relieving it felt. Even worse, after their performance so far, he began to question the loyalty of the Pluritac warriors. If he tested their honor by sending them against the old emperor's oldest son, it might end in a disaster.

"Your plan to include commoners in our troops has been useful, but this time I will not heed your advice. There will be no direct confrontation between the armies, not for now. There is no need to spill more warrior blood for little gain. Let us set up a permanent camp for now. We can just wait until the southern monkeys are starved out of their trees."

Of course there were more reasons for Pacha's reluctance, but he would never admit to any of them. As he stared at the opulent flags in the distance, a cold shower ran down his spine.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

145 Unfounded Worry

On the walls below, the wolf mercenaries had mixed with the local southern warriors and spent their time under the midday sun. The smoke from their fires rose into the sky to mix with the smoke Corco could see in the distance. Since his arrival, the smoke was all he had seen of the enemy.

"How many days does that make?" Corco asked.

"Four, boss." Dedrick replied.

"I don't like it. What is my good uncle doing over there? Where did he get all that patience from? Shouldn't he be rushing us or something?"

"Of course it is impossible for us to know King Pacha's thoughts," Tama said, sat among the maps of the local area like she always did during their meetings. "However, it is not unreasonable to believe that the central king would have calmed quite a bit after his first proper defeat. Surely, he would also feel a great deal of respect towards King Corco and the united estates of the south."

"...Pacha? Are you sure we're talking about the same person?" Corco turned to raise a brow at Tama. Her actions were even stranger since he knew from Dedrick that she had argued Corco's very point up until his arrival. Still, he didn't expect her to confront him on this. As predicted, the Spy master switched topics instead.

"Whatever his plans are, at least his plots have given us the time to set up countermeasures for their next storm on the castle walls."

"True. For now we're stuck here though. How does our food situation look?" Corco frowned.

"Not too bad, in theory," Dedrick said with a look at his notes. Despite Corco's best efforts, the knight still wrote in his native Arcavian. "Qarasi's got about a year's worth of food-"

A clap from the king interrupted the mercenary captain.

"Great! That's one problem solved then!"

"-but that's before you decided to increase our numbers tenfold."

Now it was Corco's turn to receive a critical look. Though Dedrick had only been blunt as always, Corco still felt his ears heat up. Rather than look at the captain, he turned to Tama again.

"So that's how much?"

"We have one month's worth of supplies, maybe a bit more."

"And we can't just go buy more," Dedrick added. After a thorough sigh and head-scratch, Corco turned back to the smoke in the distance, Tama's voice in his back.

"Now the war has begun, and no one in the Central Kingdom will trade with us. King Pacha has effectively closed off the northern border. Although no proper bans have been sanctioned by the Triumvirate Meeting, no supplies can travel between the north and the south for now. Not only will it be harder to make other lords sell grain to us, even if we do, King Pacha can raid our supplies and pretend they were lost to roaming bandits. He controls the border with his army, so who would know otherwise?"

"Not a problem," Corco beamed. "Did you forget about our outstanding harvest? With all the extra food we've made over the last fall, we can easily feed our troops. I'm much more worried about something else."

"...you're not gonna say you're worried about the commoners, are you?" Dedrick said. Before his arrival, he and Tama had locked horns several times over that very issue. This Corco had heard too.

"If we can't feed the people, they'll starve. We will need a lot of food for some more... advanced plans in the near future." A shallow smile crept onto Corco's face.

"So just let the commoners starve a bit. My soldiers need to eat and the peasants are used to harsh times." Tension entered Dedrick's voice as he repeated the same argument again.

"Even though you're a smart guy, sometimes you're an idiot," Corco said as he turned back to his staff in the room. "Starvation is the number one reason for revolt, anywhere and anytime. If we don't want to destabilize the entire south, we can't afford a famine. The southern Kingdom is already under threat of division now that Epunamo has worked with the northerners. No reason to make things worse."

"Right." A deep sigh showed Dedrick's capitulation. "We've discussed all of this before either way. Isn't that the reason we sent off the captain to get some more food from the north? What more do you want from me?" Mouth open, Dedrick raised his hands in mock-surrender.

"...maybe a bit of earnestness would not go awry," Tama mumbled.

"Stop!" Corco rushed in between the two contestants. Already Tama had gotten up from her seat While Dedrick had made his first step forward. If the king didn't step in now, they might have their next division here, in this very room. "The last thing we need right now is internal conflict. Can you at least pretend to be reasonable until the enemy army is not within eyeshot?"

Corco looked out of the window again. The smoke had lessened, which meant that the enemy's lunchtime was over. Not that it would change much. At this point, no one expected another attack from Pacha.

"Look, none of this is a huge problem. In fact, this is more of a chance than anything. We already have a surplus of food, and Atau is off to improve that further. This way, we can sell cheap grain to the other lords once they start to run out. What happens then you ask? They will no longer be reliant on imports from the north. Instead, they will become reliant on imports from us. If everything goes to plan, we can integrate the entire south into our trade network over the course of this war."

"However, we will not have the harvest necessary to supply the entire south," Tama said. "Although our per-person production of grain and rice has been impressive, Saniya's population is as lacking as its arable land."

"With some extra time, we can solve those problems. Better tools and fertilizers, and mass immigration from other parts of the kingdom. You'll see, soon we won't know what to do with all the food. For now though, we will have to make do with the next best thing. As long as my cousin manages to fulfill his mission, we can stem the tide until the next harvest, and then focus on long-term solutions."

For the first time during their talks, Corco looked not south to his people or north to Pacha. Instead he looked east, past the mountains and towards the sea.

"Let's hope for the best," Dedrick's dreary voice rang out behind him.

–

Although Brym had only stayed away for a short while, the face of Porcero had changed completely. Although the harbor still consisted of the old, wooden planks from before, they had been scrubbed clean of the barnacles, algae and salt crusts. Now they shined like amber in the radiance of the sea water. Before Brym had returned from the capital, they had begun to set up the new crane system. Now, the complex amalgamation of pulleys and levers helped their men load the newest supplies onto the ships.

"That all of it, isn't it?" Brym turned to find the owner of the voice, Captain Atau di Pluritac, beside him. Of course, the merchant offered his signature smile, though it had an awkward slant.

"Yes, captain, that would be everything. Although we planned to purchase far more basic foodstuffs, this is about the best I can do on such short notice. I am very sorry for this inconvenience."

This was the very reason for Brym's awkwardness. After the ghost warriors had escorted him away from Pacha's troops and back north, he had first led some negotiations with King Amautu's people. Once he had concluded a proper deal, behind closed doors of course, he had spent all his time in a mad rush through northern and eastern Medala. All this in an effort to assemble enough wheat and rice for the south's winter. Although they had plenty of money, and even more luxury goods to barter with, their lack of farmland was their greatest weakness for now.

"It's not too bad, I'd say. That's what, about eight hundred tons all in all, right? You did well, kid." The captain slapped his shoulder, and Brym forced his knees to stiffen so he wouldn't buckle under the force. After all these years, the young merchant really hoped the Captain wouldn't treat him like a child any longer.

"Indeed." He withdrew a step and Atau's paw left his shoulder to swing through the air like the ropes on the crane did above his head. "However, it is not even enough to feed half our ships. In any other year, we could have acquired much, much more. Over the last summer, the weather has been exceedingly hot throughout northern Medala."

"South too," Atau added.

"True. Though the usual weather in the north is already perfect for agriculture. As a result of the heat wave, eastern Medala has been hit with a heavy drought and the estates haven't been blessed with a good harvest. Worse, now that war is upon us, most lords have begun to hoard food, to either use in an emergency or sell to the highest bidder at a later time. Even with our outstanding connections in the region and with King Amautu's support, the lords weren't willing to part with too much of their stock."

"Should still be enough to tide us over for a while. You can just keep buying more from farther away, maybe even go into the north. While you do that, we sail south and deliver the first batch. By the time we're back, you might already wait here with the second one, heavens allow."

Brym decided to ignore the captain's final remark. Even before he had begun to travel with Arcavians, the young Brymstock had never been the most religious.

"Yes. So far King Amautu has been very accommodating, so our plans appear quite solid. No matter what King Pacha plans, he will not find success with a starvation strategy."

"I dunno, I always have a weird feeling about what's gonna happen." Although Brym always had the courtesy to focus on the partner of his conversation, very few would have this kind of earnestness towards their neighbors. In this case, the captain put on a grumpy frown as he stared out into the waves.

"Those priests again?" Brym mirrored the frown, unseen by the captain. Although a dismissive attitude was poison for any business transaction, the merchant allowed himself a weakness, overwhelmed by Atau's superstition. When they had first reunited a few days ago, Atau had told Brym of his meeting with a traveling Pacha priest. When they had crossed the hills and got ready to board the ships at Port Ulta, the captain had visited a shrine to pray for a safe journey. During that time, one of the seers had visited him and offered his services. This seemed to be a special event, rarely seen, though Brym didn't understand anything about it.

Either way, the seer had informed Atau that the stars told of a storm that brewed in the east, and of rough seas on their journey. Ever since then, the captain had been in a gloomy mood. Even worse since Atau made for an excellent drinking buddy. Those priests really ruined Brym's fun over the past few days.

"Don't underestimate the wisdom of the stars," the captain's eyes glanced down and to the side. "Although Corco knows a lot, he's still just some guy. What is one person in the face of eternal starlight? Don't forget that all of our knowledge is limited, and there are forces far beyond our understanding and control in the world."

"As expected of a Pacha faithful." Brym remained diplomatic and swallowed all his vitriol before it could reach his voice.

"More like: as expected of a ship's captain." At last Atau's head turned back to Brym, and a bit of a smile returned to his face. "Don't make a mistake, I don't care too much for the priests, but a few months on the high seas changes your perspective on things. There are many forces we will never be able to control, that's something you learn during your first storm on the open sea... Even more so when you're responsible for your own people."

The mood dimmed, Atau marched towards his well-fed ships. Since they were ready to return south as soon as possible, the captain's crew was already on board. When they reached the gangway, Brym tried one last time to ease his friend's mind.

"Well, in this one case your gods might as well be wrong. Some good luck is long overdue for us."

"Yeah, well, get ready for emergencies anyways, just in case."

With a forced smile that looked no different from his most casual one, Brym offered Atau a firm handshake.

"Goodbye and godspeed, Captain Atau."

"Yeah, see you soon."

With worry all over his face, the superstitious captain marched up the wooden plank. Although Brym himself had been optimistic all this time, the more he thought about their fragile position, the more he understood the danger they were in, and the more his stomach began to growl. With a frown of his own, he smothered his worry under a layer of pragmatism. No matter what would meet the captain at sea, they had no way to prevent it. But preparation was always the next best thing to prevention, and prepare he always could.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

146 Superstition

High up in the sky, the sun shot its rays onto the crew and captain of the Homeward, the flagship of Atau's fleet. Although the celestial mother did its best to ease the icy grip of winter, a constant wind blew from the east and carried with it the dreariness of the open seas. Beyond the horizons in the east would be the serpent cliffs, an inauspicious place that had almost killed their great ancestors, if the old legends rang true.

Despite its source, the breeze was fresh, and the direction was good enough to let them move south, back to Port Ulta, their destination. There was a prickling in his fingers, as the cold winds wormed their way into his flesh, but Atau had always loved the cold. Whenever icy weather encroached around him, he could feel his body fight off the invaders, fight for every inch of warmth. To him, the cold made him feel alive. All in all, it was a beautiful day for sailing. Even so, the words of the old priest never let him go.

"The snake and monkey stand in the fox's shadow. The stars have told of a storm that brews in the east, and of rough seas on your journey."

Of course he knew it was delusional, but as a sailor, superstition was his bread and butter. After all, superstition was the belief that their trivial actions could influence the mighty forces of nature. In the face of high waves, low tides, storms, sandbanks, earthquakes and Doldrums, it was the only thing they could do to stem the tide of insanity. Any sailor who believed themselves powerless in front of destiny wouldn't sail the seas for long.

However, when superstition dealt with fate, it became dangerous. What the Grand Seer had told him had made him feel weaker in front of fate, not stronger. With a frown, Atau thought back to his meeting with the priest back in Port Ulta.

--------------------

When he met the bald-headed boy in the gray linen robes, Atau had been surprised. However, the youngster's next words caused a downright shock.

"Young master Saqartu, my teacher wishes to meet you."

"...the Great Seer invites me?" Atau's brows drew together. On any other day, the seers wouldn't meet anyone on their own accord, be their mortal or cultivator. Even the emperors of Medala would only be called into the shrines of the priests on the first day of their coronation and then on the winter solstice every twelve years.

Apart from those meetings, the seers would keep their door open for guests, but they had to pay good coin to have their fate read, or the fate of their dead relatives. Like most Yaku, Atau had heard rumors that the seers would sometimes invite people from all walks of life. According to the rumors, this would happen whenever they read an issue of importance within the stars and needed to relay important messages from the Divines among the stars to the humans below. Of course, the captain put no stake in these stories. Why would the seers undermine their own business model?

If Brym had been here, maybe he would have considered that the priests had spread the rumors themselves, to increase their own reputation among the common folk and legitimize their pointless hobby, but right now, it was only Atau by himself. Not only had the captain been raised Medalan, with a decent fear of the deep dark sea and the force of the stars, he had also become one of the best navigators in the known world over the past few years. He knew just how important knowledge of the stars was for a civilization, and no one knew more about the stars than the priests and seers of the Pacha faith, not even Corco.

While he thought about this and that, the young servant had led him into the inner city of Port Ulta. Although Mason had ruined their relationship with the local lord before, Atau had done his best to repair the holes their cannons had left in the prideful coat of the local lord. At least young master Pahuac Villca had been a great help in this regard.

Thus, after some hard negotiations and many greased palms, he had been allowed inside. At last, he and his crew were free to use the ports of the city, even though the tariffs were outrageous compared to most other estates. Despite his best efforts, Atau could still feel the hostile stares all around him. At least for a while longer, all the warriors in the city would consider him a threat.

Though of course, once their trade route between southern and eastern Medala was established, Port Ulta would become so rich off of their business that they should change attitudes right quick. For now, getting the local priests on his side would be a good next step. Thus he was glad to follow the young priest through the inner city, towards a portion where the walls reached into the bay of Ulta itself, the quarter of the priests. Although the placement of the walls made the city easier to attack from the sea, the halls of the priesthood were worthy of protection more than anything in the port town.

"Here it is, young master Saqartu." Although he young priest had called him by a title he hadn't worn since his exile from House Saqartu, Atau didn't really care. His mind was occupied by his view upon the Great Caverns, the local temple of Pacha within Port Ulta, and one of the seventeen great holy sites of pilgrimage upon Yakuallpa.

The caves of Qyuluramacai might have been a natural formation of sandstone and feldspar several million years ago, the kind of stone much of the Sallqata mountain range was made up of. However, here the special current within the Bay of Ulta had caused water to rush under the stones. Over a time span his mortal could could not comprehend, the waves washed out the sandstone layers. At least that was the theory Atau had come up with in his head, based on what Corco had taught him about geology.

The result was a stunning system of caves, half underwater and half in the open air, full of holes and snaking tunnels, smooth as glass. Within this beautiful construction of nature, under a giant round hole in the cavern's ceiling, stood the round complex of the local Pacha shrine. Though the buildings were huddled in a circle like in other shrines, here the building materials had been taken from different parts of the cavern. Within the dim light, the small, crooked houses looked like they had stood in this place since the dawn of time. Just like all the other holy sites of Pacha, here as well, the local Grand Seer sat all day to stare at the water and the stars, in the hopes that the Divines would reveal the mysteries of the universe to him.

"Young master Saqartu, the Grand Seer will see you right away. Please step inside."

"Right." After a deep breath of the salty air, Atau stepped over the rounded steps and deeper into the murky shrine.

--------

"Ship ahead!" A shout from above woke Atau from his recollection. Annoyed, the captain marched down to the main deck of his ship. Right now, there was no work anyways, so he could leave all the important duties of the bridge to Orin, his first mate.

"Captain," as he stepped past them, all the sailors dropped what they were doing and stood up straight. Only then did they salute their captain in a proper manner. Although this sort of strictness was unusual on the ships he had first sailed on, he decided that it was more than necessary. He planned to travel to places far beyond what anyone on this side of the world had ever seen. For such a monumental task, he couldn't also deal with disobedient crew. Even more, his bad experiences in this regard had stuck with him throughout the years.

After he had answered with a clear "at ease" to let his crew continue with their work, he stepped up to the main mast.

"What do you see!?" he called up towards the man in the crow's nest as he marched past. Whatever his outlook had seen, 'ship ahead' meant that the captain had to get to the forecastle no matter what.

Atau's lips pursed as the voice in his back brought nothing but bad news.

"Bornish ships! The Bornish are coming!"

"What!?" Rather than turn to the messenger of the outrageous claim, his confident march turned into a rush. Three steps at once he charged up the forecastle's steps. Before he had reached the bough's railing, his hands had grasped for his spyglass all on their own.

When he put it to his right eye, he was reminded of a time in the past, when his entire life had been a giant game of cat and mouse. Far off in the distance, he could see the red-and-white flags he had become so familiar with over the years. In the past he had made a career out of avoiding Bornish ships, but this time would be different. This time, he had his own fleet. This time, they were on his turf, along the shores of his home.

"What are they doing here? Another merchant?" Atau frowned. After the last Bornish merchant had died in an assassination at the end of the succession war, no more Bornish ships had made the journey across the Weltalic Sea. As such, a merchant vessel here would be a surprise to the captain. In the end, he was indeed surprised, just not in a manner he had expected, or hoped for.

In the distance, across the horizon, more and more banners rose from the waves, like snakes ready to resurface, to once again torment the mortals of the land. By the time Atau had regained his composure, the one Bornish ship had turned into three, and the three into a fleet. Not only did they fly the colors of Borna, but even Cahlian banners could be seen among them.

"What is this shit? That has to be half their armada," the captain whispered. Of course, his hesitation only lasted a second. A captain couldn't allow himself weakness in front of his crew. He had to be their support.

Again he rushed past his men, and again the salutes followed. His steps were calm and steady, the same speed he had shown on his way to the forecastle. While his feet pretended surety, the priest's words swirled in his mind.

'A threat from the east, an oncoming storm.' Were the Bornish troops ready to storm Medala? Had they come to an agreement with Pacha, or even worse, Amautu?

And now that he thought about it, hadn't they come from the south? Maybe they had already raided the southern coastline. No matter what, the Homeward had its own mission to fulfill. First off, they had to make their way back south, back to Port Ulta. If they made it there unharmed, Atau would be sure to donate to the Pacha shrine.

Once he reached his command post again, Orin stepped aside without a word, and gave his captain an inquisitive look. Rather than address his first mate alone, Atau turned towards his ship and forced his voice through the easterly winds to cover his entire deck.

"All hands on deck!" He crossed his hands behind his back and stood up straight, a giant cliff for his drowning men to hold onto. "Bornish ships are up ahead! We've done this a hundred times back in the day, so let's see you idiots try and remember anything beyond boozing and whoring! We're heading due east, towards the open sea! You know the drill!"

"Changing heading due east!" Orin repeated his captain's command towards the crew. On any other day, there was no reason for the captain to shout, but Atau had done so to affirm the crew that he was still in control. Of course, he hadn't told any of his men about the prophecy he had received. That would be his burden to bear. Even though they had a large fleet themselves and even though they didn't know about the Grand Seer's vision, none of the men questioned their captain's decision.

After all, half their ships were bogged down by heavy cargo and half their cannons had been moved onto land over the past year, to be used in various castles all across Corco's kingdom. In their current state, an attack on an enemy fleet of unknown size would be nothing but folly. Even if they had enough strength to win, losing ships, expensive cargo and precious crew in an unprovoked battle sounded like a bad idea to the captain, even more so when they didn't even know what their enemy's goals were.

As Atau stared ahead and pretended calm, the ship veered port-side, until they faced due east. Now the captain's eyes bored into the steel-blue horizon, where the sea melded with the sky. There it was, the east. Again the seer's words forced their way into Atau's mind.

"A storm in the east, huh?" he mumbled into his beard. At this point, he hoped for nothing more than for bad weather. He would much rather deal with the forces of nature than with the combined greed of the Arcavian kingdoms.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

147 Splitting Up

"How are they still behind us?" Atau asked, more to himself than to anyone. Even so, his first mate gave his dutiful answer.

"They might have learned their lesson after last time," a smooth voice answered him. "Although we managed to run rings around them back in the day, even the Bornish would learn their lesson. I think they might have come up with some trick to cope with our superior navigation techniques."

"While I do appreciate the thorough answer, first mate Orin, I wasn't really looking for one."

Only a shrug answered the captain's terse answer. After years of co-dependence, the captain and his first mate had developed a proper understanding beyond the stiff command structure. Rather than bother with his smart-ass subordinate, Atau looked through his spyglass for another one of countless times. In the distance, the enemy ships had gotten closer again.

"Damn it, since when do the Bornish build their ships this well?" Orin cursed. When Atau looked to the side, the sailor had raised his own spyglass, to follow his captain's example.

"It's a problem of dimensions," Atau said. "Before we left for Medala, we increased the size of our fleet by a lot. In that process, we couldn't really pick and choose the type of ship we'd end up with. After all, we didn't have the time to commission a whole batch of new vessels. So we ended up with the refuse of the Arcavian lordships. Some of ours were already old when you were born and are only held together by rope and laquer. Even worse, some of those ships carry a heavy load of grain right now. On the other side, the Bornish have only sent their sleekest, fastest ships after us. Look how elegant that vessel's bow glides through the waves. Of course we would be slower."

"It appears as if Captain has great respect for the enemy."

"The Bornish might not be much in terms of character, but they can build one hell of a ship. Once Saniya's new shipyard starts to launch our newest vessels we'll overtake in a heartbeat, but for now they are still number one in the world, and it's showing."

A call of thunder returned Atau's attention to the ship behind them. Not even halfway between the two vessels, a fountain sprayed into the air. For one awkward moment, the captain shared a look with his first mate.

"Well, they're number one in terms of ship building. Never said anything about marksmanship."

"Even if they are terrible shots, we can't assume that they will waste all of their powder before they come within firing distance," Orin warned.

"Yeah, I got that," Atau sighed. "I'd rather not do this."

"Do what?" First Orin's eyes narrowed, as he stared down his captain. After only a few seconds of silence, the first mate's eyes widened back to normal size, and then kept going.

"Oh no, you're not... that's not your plan, is it? That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous?" Atau smirked. "I didn't even say it yet."

"Captain," Orin stared down his captain hard, "do you plan to split the fleet in two? You want to sacrifice half the fleet to guarantee the arrival of the cargo ships in the south?"

"Hey, that's a pretty good idea." Atau slapped Orin's shoulder. "I think I will listen to the advice of my first mate for once."

After the first mate had looked over his shoulder to make sure no one listened in, he leaned closer to the captain. "It's little more than suicide! What are we doing, giving up half the fleet to save the other?"

"First off, it's hardly suicidal. We can save both fleets, just not if we stick together. After all, our problem is that our cargo ships aren't fast enough to get away from the Bornish. If we split our fleet, we solve all our problems: Without the Bornish on their trail, the slow cargo ships can travel south in safety, while the faster ships get chased by the enemy.

"Setting it up is easy too. Those guys have no spyglasses, that much they have made abundantly clear. More likely than not, they can only just see the tail-end of our formation, if that. So long as we manage to break line of sight for only a moment, we can pull all the fast ships to the back. When the Bornish find us again, they run after the tail, while the head breaks off into a different direction."

After he had heard Atau's plan, Orin stood up straight again, his voice loud once more.

"In that case, I will volunteer as commander of the fast fleet."

"Are you kidding me? I'm not giving up command of the Homeward."

"But-"

"Stand down. That's an order! So what if the Bornish have a few new ships? Even if they catch up to us, we can still wipe them no problem." Of course, Atau's words were nothing more than bravado. Those ships behind them had made quite the impression on him, but he would be damned if he let his crew face the dangers of war without him.

"Aye, captain." Orin showed a crisp salute, the kind Atau had become used to. However, only a second later his first mate's frown had returned. "All this time, we've sailed out on the open sea, so where will we hide from the enemy to rearrange our formation?"

"Isn't that easy?" Atau smiled a dangerous smile "We have the perfect hiding spot just up ahead."

"No, wait, you mean-"

"Tell the men we're headed due east. We're going for the Serpent Reefs. Let's show those Bornish just who owns the sea around here."

__________________________

After he had watched his first mate swing over to the neighboring ship, Atau reorganized his crew. For one, he needed a new second in command. Improvised as their plan was, he also had to give Orin enough time to set up a proper command structure. All throughout their fleet, fires were ignited to drive out the oncoming fall of night. With their new morse code system, they managed to organize their fleet and prepare their plans as they waited for day to return.

For now, they were stuck within the Serpent Reefs. Though in truth, there wasn't much to see. Most of the time, the reefs were almost fully submerged. Only a few large boulders stretched all the way from the deepest depths of the sea to the light of day.

Still, the Serpent Reefs were the most dangerous place along the eastern shores of Yakuallpa. Here, the ancient serpent had tried to lead the ancestors to their doom, but they had remained steadfast and followed the stars instead. Atau intended to do the same. In the shine of his oil lamp, he leaned over the maps his men had worked on for the past year. Ever since their return, they had spent a lot of time sailing up and down the shoreline. By now, they had mapped much of the area to a satisfactory degree.

At least it would be good enough to make some initial calculations until the sunlight returned to confirm his assumptions. Throughout the night, Atau could feel an unease grab hold of his fleet. Like a sickness, tension spread throughout the men's voices outside his window. Much rather than a direct battle without time to prepare, it was the wait that killed morale. Too much time to think was never good, maybe he should tell that to Corco. For now, Atau had decided to distribute some wine among his men, the good stuff from his own supply. A shame, but at least the heavy alcohol could break the night's spell.

While the voices began to spread an air of merriment, the wine's owner preferred to take in some coffee. In fact, this was his last reserve. After tonight, they would be out of the precious liquid. When things calmed down, he swore to return back to Ak'challa for more of the brown nectar.

By the time the sun rose again, he had managed to memorize most of the maps, even though they wouldn't need them much. After all, he had used the stars to plot a solid course, safe enough that they would be fine even without perfect navigation. At once, his crew relayed the new information to Orin.

For a few more miles they headed east, until they reached an giant rock in the form of a donkey. Spread around it where several smaller formations, all of them large enough to hide at least a few ships behind. This was it, the place for Orin's cargo fleet to split off and head south after a few more miles on an eastern course.

Meanwhile, his own fast fleet would travel north right away. If the enemy wasn't blind, they would see the tail end of their fleet and follow along. If they couldn't even see them like this, they would be too blind to pursue Orin through the Serpent Reefs anyways. When Atau came back up from his cabin, little flecks of ice and rain shot into his face. Over night, a storm had raised and it had forced them into early activity. Although they were still anchored to let the Bornish catch back up, the captain could see figures clamber across the ropes above his head while shadows rushed past him from one deck to the other. A ship's crew never slept, even less so during a storm.

"Morning captain!" a spry voice came from behind.

"Good morning, Bas," Atau answered as he turned to face his new second-in-command. The lanky Bas had his head held high, unfazed by the storm around them. His weather-worn face had seen much worse than this. As protection from the elements, he wore a bandanna over his head, rather than a proper hat. It was something he had copied from the Medalan warriors, much to the captain's delight. By now, Bas had been with Atau for five years. At this point, he was the Homeward's second-lnogest serving crew. Since Orin had left the ship to commandeer the cargo fleet down south, Bas had become the obvious replacement.

Grateful, the captain nodded at the wide grin and grabbed the tin cup out of Bas' outstretched hands. Since they had run out of coffee, bitter tea with cheap wine would have to do for now. Sailor's brew, the men called it. Though before he warmed his body with the swill, he had work to do.

"How's the weather?" Atau asked as he made his way up the command deck.

"Beautiful and sunny," Bas grinned. "Easterly winds have picked up from last night, but the sails can still take it no problem. All men are on deck and ready, we can start our stroll at any time."

By now, Atau had reached the Homeward's stern. Right away he pushed the cup of swill back into his first mate's hands, before he reached for his holstered spyglass.

"And what about our friends? Will they join us on our excursion?" Through the swathes of water, he could just about make out the enemy sails in the rain. Although he had joked, the sight made him frown.

"Still right behind us. We have lit all the oil lamps to make sure the brave souls find their way in the dark."

Atau nodded and retracted his spyglass again. As if it was natural, the cup of sailor's brew returned to his frozen hands.

"Though I really don't get it," Bas continued. "Why would the Bornish be this stubborn? Trapped in unknown waters, they chased an unknown fleet of unknown strength and size through dangerous terrain, in the middle of a storm."

"In fact, it's because they're in unknown waters that they're still on our tail. First off, the Bornish are arrogant. They think they own the four seas, and they believe that no one's their match on water. When they saw us, they didn't see a potential enemy, they only saw plunder." Atau turned and marched back to the front of the command deck. Bas' heavy boots sounded on the boards behind him. "Then they followed us, and since they don't have any maps of the coastline, they blindly followed us right into the Serpent Reefs, during an oncoming storm no less. Anchors aweigh."

"All hands to their posts! Anchors Aweigh!" Bas shouted across the main deck. Like a ripple in water, the commanders on board repeated the captain's orders all throughout the ship.

"Now the Bornish are stuck here, between rocks both open and hidden, in the middle of heavy weather. If they break off pursuit now, their death is all but guaranteed. Their best choice of action is to follow the locals back out. That's us."

As Atau finished his earlier thought, he watched as the ripples of his commanders had pushed the common crew into action as well. Tiny specks of black on a dark-gray background, they scurried all across ropes and masts to ready the ship for its next journey.

"Anyways, now that we're rid of our cargo ships, I'd like to see the Bornish try and keep up with us. We'll drag them behind us for a while and shake them off halfway through the reefs. Let's hope they learn their lesson for next time," the captain smirked.

"All stations ready," the echo of his command returned. Once more, his men had breathed life into the Homeward, and the giant beast creaked under the constant teasing of its inhabitants. Despite their stiffness, the captain's rough hands brushed over the smooth wood of the railing.

"We're headed due north until further command," he said.

"Due north! Heading due north!" While Bas' voice fought the wind, the captain took his first taste of the sailor's brew. Although it had been exposed for a good while, the drink was still hot. Not even the cold would want to claim this atrocity against tea and wine. As expected, the concoction tasted bitter and sharp in all the wrong ways. When the spices and booze spread throughout his veins, a shiver ran up his spine and reinvigorated his tired body. Just like the sea, the sailor's brew was harsh, unrefined, and it made the captain feel alive.

As he watched the giant mainsail unfurl, Atau took another swig.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

148 Pessimist and Optimis

"Their ships appear far less impressive than we thought, captain."

"Hmm."

While Bas had his spyglass directed south, Atau only stared ahead. Past the main deck and the forecastle, he looked upon the roaring waves on their course, and the depths beneath. To most sailors, the darkness of the sea was a great terror, but it was much worse for a Yaku like him. After all, they believed the underworld to sleep right beneath the waves. Nothing would be harsher than to sink into the waters, without a proper burial, without a way to defend oneself.

"What's wrong, captain? The enemy has been left behind the horizon and we have near made our way out of the reefs. Shouldn't we revel?" Bas asked.

"We can't celebrate until we're out of this patch of weather," the captain answered, still focused ahead. "Even when we make it out of the dangerous terrain, we can't know how many more Bornish ships are waiting along the coastline."

As he thought about the implications of a Bornish fleet in Yaku waters, his mouth pulled down as if he had eaten something bitter. How many more were there? How many more would come? What were their goals?

"Sire... doesn't your attitude seem a bit defeatist?"

A deep breath smoothed the captain's face, as his hands tightened around the balustrade.

"A captain remains a pessimist in victory, and turns optimist only in the face of certain death. Remember this well, Lieutenant. One day you'll command your own ship, just like Orin."

"Of course, Captain Atau," a somber voice came back.

As his bitter look turned into a shallow smile, Atau leaned into the rain.

"Pessimism is good, it keeps us grounded, and it keeps us focused. Though even if it is unfounded, caution never hurts."

"Ship ahead!" a scream echoed towards the captain's command post. When he received the news, Atau's hands further tightened around the wood. At the same time, his smile turned so big his jaws clenched.

"And sometimes, the caution can be well-founded too," he added through his teeth.

__________________________

"Report! What's going on?" As soon as Atau reached the forecastle, he shouted into the crowd of sailors.

"It's Ekuo, sire," a portly man with a scruffy, gray-streaked beard replied,. "he says he saw a ship in the rains, and sure enough, there it is." His finger pointed beyond the Homeward's bough. Even without a spyglass, anyone could see the tattered sails and crooked mast of the vessel in the waves before them.

"You spotted it?" Atau stared at a small, dark-skinned man to the side. Awkward on his feet, he stood up straight and answered in the best Yakua.

"Yes, Official Atau. This servant has spotted the ship from his outpost up high, as ordered."

Although he wasn't happy with the man's answer, Atau still nodded. There was no reason to lower morale in the face of the enemy.

"Lieutenant Bas, this man has earned his entire watch an extra portion of brandy for tonight," he said.

Of course the men cheered like Atau had known they would. Aboard a ship, there was little else to do but drink, song and superstition. Apart from the gambling of course, if one could keep off the eyes of the commanders. Into the cheers of the sailors, Bas interrupted.

"Well done, lookout. Though even in your enthusiasm, you're to call the captain by his proper title. There are no 'officials' at sea."

"Of course, Lieutenant. Excuse me, Lieutenant." Ekuo the lookout bowed.

"...better."

During the exchange of his men, Atau was happy to see his new Yaku sailors find their place in his crew well enough. Ever since Corco had established the southern kingdom, the two of them had begun to mix members of the ghost warriors into his crews. For all sorts of reasons, cultivators had special value at sea, especially scouts like Ekuo. With their importance to the survival of all the men aboard, it would be the perfect place to let the cultures mingle, even more so since his old crew was well-used to strange folk and strange customs. Though of course, Atau only cared about their immediate use as sailors.

In the end, Atau still decided to get some help from his tool. They needed to know their enemy after all. Even more, he needed to know where this one had come from, and whether or not they could expect more of them.

From up close, the enemy ship appeared wounded, if not dead. Not only was the fore-mast crooked, much of the rigging had also been cut or snapped. Only the proud, washed-out 'X' of the Bornish flag told Atau that the ship and her crew were still very much alive.

"Must have lost its way," he mumbled.

"Lost its way? Could you enlighten us, captain?" Bas asked.

"Through the night, the bad weather and the rough terrain, the Bornish followed us all the way. In their pursuit they must have struggled to keep together. If any of their ships would have some trouble with the currents or reefs, they would be left behind to continue the chase. She should be one of the unlucky ones. While we maneuvered around in the center of the reefs, this one skirted the edges, lost and confused. Just about managed to not sink, by the looks of it."

"In that case, shall we lend the reefs a hand?" the first mate asked.

"No time." Atau reholstered his spyglass. "If we waste out time with combat, the Bornish behind us will get time to catch up again."

"Then what do we do?"

While his fingers ran through his beard, Atau thought about their options. They couldn't stay and fight. Any delay could bring back the rest of the Bornish fleet. Even worse, they didn't know whether or not they might encounter another enemy ship. At the same time, the strong currents and narrow waterways led them onto a collision course. At last, the captain's hand returned to the railing. He had made his decision.

"Tell the rest of the fleet to slow down. We'll go past them on their starboard side and catch up with the front."

"Signal the fleet to slow down! Change course north north-east!" Bas shouted over the deck. While the commanders got ready with megaphones and signal fires to coordinate their fleet and crew, the first mate turned to his captain for answers.

"Captain, what is our plan?" Bas asked again. Of course the captain would never have to explain his orders to anyone. However, they would need many captains in the future, and Bas was a good man. Thus, he considered it a learning opportunity for the young sailor.

"Our Homeward is an older dame by now, but she's been built for the future. Even though her sleek lines give her speed, she is far from our fastest ship. Why do you think that is?"

"...I am unsure."

"It's because Corco knew how naval combat would develop over the years. These days, modern ships are built with a thicker hull, since they have to withstand cannon fire. However, among all of our ships, the Homeward is the most modern. The homeward can take cannon fire the best."

At last, understanding dawned on Bas' face, his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"No, you don't plan to..."

"Why does everyone keep saying that? You're the same as Orin. If you wanna be the captain, you need some boldness to match your imagination. I mean, this time the solution is pretty obvious. We'll rush past the enemy and endure their fire. And we'll use our flagship as a shield."

__________________________

Once they had put themselves into their suicidal position, they had returned to the command deck. Bas licked his lips as he looked to the skeleton of a ship that would play their enemy, almost as if he found the sight appetizing.

"What could have caused the damage to the sails, captain? If they're caught in a storm, why wouldn't they hand the sail and wait out the storm, captain?"

While Bas looked to the enemy, Atau kept an eye on their men, as they ran across the deck to get into position.

"Might have been desperate," he said. "You're not so worried about the state of your sails if you'd brak on a rock otherwise. Unless their captain is an idiot, he probably sacrificed his mobility to save his crew. It's commendable."

"Even without mobility, we won't be able to escape them, and they won't need sails to fire their cannons."

Reminded of the terrain, Atau looked beyond the homeward. All around them, rocks peeked out through the rough waves. Where he couldn't see rocks, he could see white foam shine in the morning light. This stretch of the reefs was built like a mountain pass. Thin and narrow, they were forced to drive along a single path. Although there must have been many ways through the currents and reefs, he nor the enemy commander were confident enough to break through without loss of life. Thus the two sides stayed on course and reduced the distance between each other with every second. Soon, the opponents would pass by each other within cannon range.

"Really is an unlucky day, isn't it?" Atau asked. Somehow, he felt they had been dragged into the serpent reefs by fate, as if the ancient snake had decided to test their wits in this ancient trial site. Of course it was ridiculous, but Atau just couldn't forget the ominous words of the seer.

"Captain, what about their cannons?" Bas asked again, but Atau had no proper answer. There was nothing they could really do against the enemy's firepower.

"Maybe their powder has gotten wet in the storm? It's possible."

"I thought a captain would have to remain pessimistic."

"Not in the face of certain death." A grin spread all over Atau's face. When he turned to his first mate, Bas looked frozen in shock."

"It's a joke. Lighten up." Atau said.

"Sire, we are about to be fired upon from point-blank range. This is hardly a time for jokes."

"Aaagh, you got no sense of humor, and you're not thinking either. What sort of cannons are they gonna have? Two or three pounders, mostly on the main deck, right? No large calibers and nothing close to the water line. With her hull, they won't break through the Homeward even if they pull up right beside us. We're not in any real danger.. Just batten down the hatches and we'll weather the storm."

"Batten down the hatches!" Bas shouted without a thought. While his command was repeated, his head faced the captain, as slow understanding made way for even slower shock. "Batten down the hatches!? But we'll be defenseless!"

At this point Atau really missed Orin. Although Bas would follow orders well, he just couldn't keep up mentally. With a frown, he explained again.

"The goal isn't to defeat the enemy, is it? We don't have time to play around. The goal is to get out of here as quickly as possible, before more Bornish ships show up."

"But if we don't return fire, the enemy vessel will turn and pursue. Then we will have to deal with their fire from right in our backs. Not even the Homeward's rudder is cannon proof."

"You're kidding, how would that thing ever catch up to us?" Atau scoffed and jerked his head to the menacing existence of the Bornish sails. "Look at that thing. In their state, they wouldn't be able to do a proper turn even in ideal conditions. Now they're not in ideal conditions. They're in the Serpent Reefs. By the time they've made their gingerly turn, we'll be halfway across the horizon, way out of their reach. No, they only get one pass, that's all. We can take one or two salvos."

"In that case, wouldn't it be better for them to cease fire as well, and hope we don't kill them? Why provoke us?"

With worry, Atau followed the small figures of sailors across the sea, as they populated the enemy deck and got ready to defend their lives to the last.

"They'll fire, that I can guarantee. It's because they're scared."

"Huh?"Again Bas proved his lack of understanding.

"They're terrified," Atau emphasized. "They have been stranded in foreign waters for an entire night, their ship has been ruined, and now they are confronted by the enemy fleet, all on their own. How would you feel? They will fire, because not firing will make them feel their weakness even more. If they didn't attack us, they'd go mad."

Soon, the enemy vessel had come close enough to see the men aboard even without their spyglasses. Although they must have seen the Homeward's movements, they hadn't reacted at all. Atau wasn't sure if it was from fear, confidence, resignation or a lack of mobility, but none of the options made a difference at this point. As the enemy ship crawled ever closer, Atau's heartbeat raised as much as everyone else's.

Even though he had talked a tough game all this time, their position was not without danger. Getting shot at from point blank would never be pleasant, even if he was confident in his decision. As a great captain, he loved his ship and hoped she would remain unharmed, but as the flagship, the Homeward would have to do her job just like any other member of the crew.

"Brace!" he shouted. Across the deep waves, he could see the enemies even clearer. Like animals they weaseled all over the main deck of the ship, the glitter of muskets and sabers in their hands. They must have readied for a boarding attempt from their enemies. And of course, Atau's men had done the same. Although neither side intended to board, they had no choice but to prepare for one.

*If you want peace, prepare for war,* Atau thought back to one of Corco's bonmots.

In a crawl, the two ships lined up besides one another. One by one, the enemy crew sailed past Atau's eyes. A stout man with mutton chops, a thin boy whose rough hands spoke of his farmer background. A knight. No matter their differences, all of them were wet from sweat and a deep fear shook their eyes.

Had he looked over, it would have been the same for their own people. For one eerie moment, the two sides met each other, in a way no one had ever met them before. For that one moment, they were closer than friends, closer than family. They shared this one, so very human, moment, of people who didn't want to die or fight, but would have to do so anyways. Then he heard the shout.

"FIRE!" the loud Bornish growl shot over from the enemy's quarterdeck. Then the cannons rumbled. The sting of sulfur shot into his nose only moments after his ears had been overwhelmed by the monstrous boom. Though at this point, his ears were the least of their problems.

Since Atau had braced himself on the railing, the tremors of the cannons had traveled through the entire ship and into his body. Paralyzed, his fingers slipped off and almost threw the captain to the ground. Only barely did the cultivator manage to remain upright, while many of his men, most experienced sailors as well, lost their footing.

This didn't feel right. Something was wrong. He could feel it as much in his trembling fingers as he did in his heart, and in his guts.

"Lieutenant Bas! Status report!"

On one knee, Bas forced himself up and rushed towards the main deck. Although he tried to check on the state of their ship, it turned out to be unnecessary. Only moments later, one of their commanders rushed up the stairs, the same terror in his eyes as the their enemy had shown.

"Captain! Report! We have taken on water! Our hull had been breached!"

Again Atau looked at the waves which crashed white between the two vessels. Somewhere down below, the ancient snake would cackle with laughter. Somehow he knew: their nightmare had only just begun.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

149 Change in Direction

"Today, we honor those who have given their life in duty. Their bravery and commitment has given us all pause, and will forever burn them into our hearts. Thus, we entrust our comrades to the waves. Able Seaman Pehrsonn, shipwright Alyn..."

As Bas counted off all the fallen from the last combat, Atau looked over the bodies covered in rough cloth. In the end, their losses had been far more than he could have ever imagined. Six men had died as they tried to cross past the enemy vessel, a failure Atau would never forget. He would carry their souls together with those of all the other men he had failed in his time as a captain.

Around the barred up dead stood their crewmates, their heads held low. Maybe a third of them were Ekuo's watchmates. Their hands still held the brandy they had been promised for Ekuo's success, the brandy he himself would never have a chance to taste. For the moment, morale was terrible. Of course it would be. Funerals were never nice, but they would be even worse for a Yaku like Ekuo.

With worry, Atau watched as two of his crew stepped up to sew shut the cloths before the burial.

"Wait!" the captain shouted. Confused looks in their eyes, all the men turned to him.

"How will he fight with his body bound like that?" Atau asked, as if it was natural. Although the men looked at each other in confusion, no one had the courage to ask the captain for the meaning of his cryptic words. So Atau would have to explain himself.

"As a Yaku warrior, Ekuo will have to battle the underworld right below our feet if he wishes to reach paradise. Don't seal up the bag. It's what he would have wanted." Another of the newest ghost members on his ship added.

Although they didn't understand, the other men had come from all corners of the massive Arcavian continent. Everyone was used to each other's strange habits. After all, an average ship's crew had almost as many cultures as men in it.

While the other men believed in all sorts of ghosts and gods, among the dead only Ekuo was a Yaku. Like any other Yaku, he would hope to be barred up underground until decomposition. However, this sort of handling wasn't possible on the high seas, where the body would rot and fester to spread disease among the crew. They had to dump the body, and Ekuo would be left to fend for himself as he made his way through the depths of the underworld and into the afterlife among the stars.

Atau's grip tightened around the wooden handle of Ekuo's axe. It was a beautiful piece, as expected of a real Yaku warrior. Great balance, sharpness and weight, polished to a brilliant shine. Now it had lost its master.

With the slow movements of a priest at a ritual, Atau opened up the cloth above the dead warrior's face. Just as he had in the aftermath of the battle, he stood before the body battered by the enemy fire. Although Ekuo had been spared the misfortune of a direct cannon hit, his actual fate might have been worse. When the cannons had crushed through the hull, splinters had shot all over the warrior's body.

His cause of death was obvious: An especially large piece of wood, broken off in the form of a stake, had lodged itself into his face below Ekuo's right eye socket. Somehow, Atau was reminded of a plug, and wondered what happened if he pulled it. Even the seasoned captain's stomach churned upon the thought, even more when he considered his own role in the sailor's death.

To get it over with, he opened up the cloth up to Ekuo's chest before he stepped back. Like this, the warrior wouldn't be defenseless.

After everything had been readied, The crew mates who had held the needles carried the cloth and body over to the ship's starboard side. With a splash, lookout Ekuo went on his last journey. Throughout the entire process, the captain's eyes never left his fallen crew.

Only now did Atau look around again. When he did, he realized the lookout's watchmates still held their brandies in their hands. Without a word, the first of the men marched over to the waves, before he poured the drink into the water with his left and formed the wheel of Arcavus with his right.

Once the ice had been broken, the men came ahead one by one, to pay their respects to their fallen comrade. Everyone gave their comrade something along on his journey. Silent, the captain raised the weapon he still held in his hand, to inspect it in detail. Of course, after Ekuo's death his axe would return into the possession of the warrior's master, back to Corco. By all right, now it was no longer Ekuo's.

*Laqhis won't mind,* Atau thought as he stepped up to the balustrade.

With a splash, the axe followed its master into the depths of the sea.

"Now he's got booze and an axe. What more could a man want on a journey?" he mumbled.

__________________________

Once all the men had been buried at sea, the survivors resumed their journey north, or at least they tried to. Ropes squeaked and moaned as they they spanned the distance between the Homeward and the Sparrow's Flight, another ship of their fleet. Like an sleigh, the Homeward needed to be pulled along. Although it felt like an insult to her, there was nothing Atau could do about it.

They had managed to stem the tide and plug the leaks below the water line, but the enemy cannons had still ripped through their walls like paper and taken all those men with them in the process. Even worse, the enemy's second, final salvo had hit when they had been halfway past the Homeward. Their position and angle had caused a hit square in her rudder.

"Looks like our plans might have to change again." Atau mumbled. Before him, there was a buzz no less busy than the one he had seen right before battle. However, this time the men were busy trying to repair all the damage that had been done. The enemy's cannon balls had fired all the way through their hull and even damaged the main deck. Meanwhile, their grapeshots had mangled their sails. Like a miracle, at least the main mast and the keel had remained unharmed, but the Homeward would need support from the rest of the fleet until they could dock and repair the damages.

"Captain, we won't sail back into Porcero?" Bas asked.

"If we were in better condition it wouldn't be a problem, but now we're in trouble. We can't turn south and go for Port Ulta since there's still a fleet of Bornish behind us. At the same time, we can't sail back, because we just don't know how many of their ships might wait for us in Porcero. Damn it!"

Just before his fist hit the wood of the balustrade, Atau caught himself. Soft and gentle, his hand landed on the tormented wood. She had already suffered through enough for today.

"Why would I be this arrogant? I thought that was Laqhis' strength," he mumbled again. Before Bas could ask what he meant, a sailor's shout interrupted their conversation.

"Captain, here's one of the cannon shots, just like you asked!" The man brought a heavy ball of iron up to the command deck. After the battle was over and the men buried, Atau had asked his crew to search for the enemy cannon balls. After all, they hadn't just fired grape shot, the enemy had fired just about anything they could find. If they analyzed their ammo, they could learn much about their enemies. They would need to. Before Bas could take the ball, the captain had already moved over and taken it for himself. With a frown, he weighed the iron in his hand.

"That's at least five pounds," he said and threw the ball over to Bas. "No wonder they managed to break the Homeward."

Just before it sank to the floor, the lieutenant managed to regain the power in his arm and pushed against the force of the thrown iron. "They're using heavier cannons," Bas stated, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, those cannons of theirs are at least five pounders. I've been stupid, doing the thing Laqhis does all the time. Since we haven't been using any heavier cannons so far, I assumed the Bornish would be the same, but they've leaned a lot since we last fought them. They probably don't have a lot of those heavy cannons yet, but the sea just got a whole lot more dangerous."

"So we can't return to the port," Bas concluded.

"Now less than ever. Since they have heavier cannons, that even means we got lucky in our fight." A bitter smile flowed around Atau's face.

"Lucky!? But if we had known about their power, we could have returned fire and destroyed them without trouble. After all, their ship was in terrible condition! We would have never lost as many men had we been allowed to maneuver around them!"

"That's why I said we were lucky. Since they have larger calibers, they'd also have more range. We were lucky that the terrain forced us so close together, and that they were on their last legs already. In an even battle on the open sea, we would be at even more of a disadvantage. We would be chasing their shadows while they could bombard us from distance."

As understanding dawned on Bas' face, all color drained from it.

"So what do we do?" he asked. Atau decided to take the cannon ball back before his shocked subordinate dropped it.

"First, we need to set course for someplace else. Somewhere the Bornish would never expect:" Atau looked north, beyond the horizon. "Let's go pay a visit to an old acquaintance. Bas, tell the fleet to change course North north east. We're headed for the bronze coast."

__________________________

When he had been visited by Taquais, Brym had been confused, even more so after he was told that Lord Saliena had called for his presence at the harbor. Normally, the lord of Porcero wouldn't call anyone, even less so on such short notice. Most of all, the lord would almost never wander into the commoner's quarters of the city. As someone who despised the fishermen and merchants of his empire, how could he ever deign come close to them? Only when Brym had seen the ships along the port of the city did realization dawn on him, even more so when he had seen the flags of Cahlia and Borna.

"Lord Herak, please meet young warrior Brymstock di Pluritac. As King Corcopaca's local administrator, in charge of the southern kingdom's goods, he oversees much of the trade in my little port town."

With large steps, the tall lord of Porcero walked towards the stubby Brym. By Saliena's side walked a man very much his equal in physique. However, the rough leather clothing and shiny bronze mask which covered the upper half of the duke's face equipped him with a menace the well-manicured Lord Saliena could never hope to match.

"Yes, we know each other quite well." Although Herak's eyes could not be seen beneath his mask, his smile had turned into a terrifying grin. In contrast, Brym retained his own mask. With his usual smile, he stepped forward and stretched out his hand.

"Duke Herak, what great fortune for us to meet again so soon. I hope we can cooperate well in the future, just like we have done in the past! If there is anything you wish to know about the local customs and the local geography, please do not hesitate to pay a visit to our little shops. Of course, you will be welcome to stop by even without a reason. Everything for an old friend."

While they spoke, Herak held on to Brym's hand, and the bear of Borna began to squeeze. Like his namesake, he showed off his inhuman strength. Although he was a cultivator of many years himself, a biting pain ran up Brym's hand and into his arm. Even so, he remained calm as he finished his little speech of fakery.

"Sure, young man," Herak said at last. "I am very interested in everything your master has built here."

As the local lord looked back and forth between the two Bornish, Herak's grin became wider.

"Ahaha, we will do whatever we can to accommodate Lord Herak. After all, now we are in the home of House Pluritac. This time, we should strive to be as hospitable as Lord Herak was back in Borna."

With a scoff, Duke Herak released his hand at last.

"Lord Saliena, although I have spent much time at sea, I really dislike the smell of seaweed and merchants in this place."

For a second the lord looked over to Brym, before he turned back to his new guest.

"Ahaha, yes, they are quite the plague, though occasionally useful. Please follow me to Ceros Castle. I am sure there is much common ground for us to talk over."

Ignored by all lords and servants around him, Brym massaged his pained hand and looked after the two figures. As he thought over his situation, he was reminded of one of his big bro's common saying.

"Well... shit."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

150 Spread Thin

Dim like night, the light of day wormed its way through the drawn curtains. At some point, a single sliver of sunlight had found its way past the northern blockade and opened the path for its brethren, to create a path between the window and the weathered map in the room's center.

For once, the windows in Qarasi Castle's command room were barred. Although they needed lamps to light up the room even under the midday sun, they had already underestimated their enemies once. Never again would Corco allow himself to be surprised like he had been these weeks. Thus, he would never again assume that he knew anything his enemies didn't. Since they were about to address vital information, they would do so even in the dark, heavy air of a closed room, just in case the Bornish had come up with a spyglass of their own.

If nothing else, the information in the center of the table was more than worthy of protection.Atop the heavy oak sat a map of Yakuallpa and the surrounding waters, with several wooden figures strewn around it. For a moment, Corco's eyes left the map and assessed the figures collected in the room, positioned around the table.

Across from the king of southern Medala stood Dedrick and Tamaya. It had been a long time since he had seen the mercenary and only a short time since he had seen the spymaster, but for both he had hoped to not see them for a much longer time. After all, their meeting wasn't planned, it had been forced by the army in the north. Finally, scrunched up in a chair the corner, sat Ronnie and pretended to sulk.

Only just did Corco manage to prevent a smile at the bad acting, before he returned his view back to the issue at hand: They had to take inventory of their situation, and adjust their plans, as they had done so often in the past year.

"Still no word from the opposite camp, I take it," the king began.

"Words they have enough, but they're not getting a move on," Dedrick replied with a smirk. "They're always talking about monkeys and whatnot, sending idiots over to scream at the walls and anger us out of our defense." As If he had heard something especially funny, the fake knight's smirk turned grin. "You'll actually like this one. You know what they say about you?"

"Hrmhrrrm." Somehow she had kept quiet until now, but at this point, Tama could no longer stay quiet. After she had audibly cleared her throat, she hit Dedrick with her best stare of disapproval.

"What, you think Laqhis hasn't suffered his fair share of insults back across the sea?" Dedrick asked, his grin retained.

"The king does not need to know these minor issues."

"What are they saying?" Rather than start a pointless discussion, Corco mirrored Dedrick's grin and switched topics.

"They call you false prophet. I think they're saying that you converted back in Arcavia?"

"Well, at least they're being creative," Corco scoffed at the laughable attempt at propaganda, while he looked to the center of the map, where two figurines stood opposite one another. One represented his own men, the other Pacha's band of robbers. "Though it might not be the best use of their time."

"Why not? they're not attacking either way," Dedrick shrugged. "Haven't even gotten near our walls since you showed up."

"Our food situation is good though, right?"

"For the moment there are no problems, at least here in Qarasi," Tama said. "The king's fleet has brought more food from the east, so our supplies will last us for a very long time. However, it appears as if further trips north will be impossible for now."

"The Bornish." From the two figures to represent the armies of the kingdoms, Corco's eyes turned east on the map, to the ships scattered along the eastern coast. "Seems like Pacha has struck some kind of deal, huh?"

"Or someone in his staff did. I won't believe the idiot would come up with a plan like this. He's got us boxed in well," Dedrick replied. For a while everyone shared a frown as they thought in silence, before the mercenary continued. "We can't handle them with our own fleet?"

"That's risky, and pointless. For now we still have more numbers on the eastern sea, so we can probably force our way through once. Still, they have the better cannons, even more so after we removed half of ours to use them in the field."

"You're not taking them back, are you?" Dedrick played shocked. With his eyes bulged out and his mouth pulled down like an old religious idol he looked ridiculous. Dedrick really wasn't a good actor.

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't. We need them in case Pacha attacks again, so they're stuck here. But even with the cannons, our position out east wouldn't look too good. The Bornish cannons are longer range and more powerful than ours. So far, it seems like they have fewer ships than us, but our losses from any engagement would be more costly. After all, we're trying to move cargo, so any sunk ship would take tons of supplies with it."

With a lazy movement, Corco pushed two of the ship figures off the table. Although he expected a splash, they landed with a dull thunk.

"We can't move supplies safely, yet they don't need to move supplies at all. They only need to disrupt ours. At the same time, any ship we lose can't be replaced. On the other hand, they're not even close to full strength. Don't forget, our enemies aren't only the Bornish. They've also flown the banners of Cahlia, so two of the largest naval powers of Arcavia have allied. If we manage to defeat their ships and beat them back, they can just come back with twice as many. We can't. We don't even have a dockyard on this side of the world."

"In that case, it appears as if Captain Atau would be stuck as well, at least until we can negotiate with the new arrivals," Tama said. Though her voice was flat, at least Corco heard none of the schadenfreude he had expected.

With worry, the king looked to the Medalan ships far out at sea. Somewhere on the Weltalic Ocean, his cousin drifted along, chased by the Bornish fleet. Of course there was no better navigator than Atau, but Corco really couldn't see a clear way out of Atau's dilemma. Rather than think about issues he had no control over, the king stifled a sigh and continued their meeting.

"Have we had any contact?"

"We have tried to open communications, but the Bornish either didn't understand Yakua, or pretended not to. Most of the Arcavian fleet has anchored in the north. Their leaders should be far away, so no one of importance would be south."

"Negotiations in the north? Sounds like a job for the kid, huh?" Dedrick chimed in.

"Only if they're willing to talk." Again Corco stared down at the map, again to the little figures. In Porcero, surrounded by Bornish ships, sat a single blue figure of the Southern Kingdom. "It seems like the Arcavians came with a plan in mind. They already have some agreement with Pacha, I'm sure of that. You think we can beat their offer? Knowing Pacha, he's probably sold half the Empire to patch his bruised ego."

At the thought of his annoying uncle, Corco could feel his face pull together.

"Then what happens to Brym?"

"Nothing, I guess." The king's face relaxed. "Brym's a smart kid, smarter than all of us, maybe minus Fadelio." In the back of the room, Corco heard the genius alchemist clear his throat, but he decided to ignore it. "The brat can take care of himself. He's got some of your men with him for personal protection, and we've got a lot of allies in the east. And don't forget about our good old friend Saliena. That guy is far too shrewd to side with anyone, especially not in a war so far away from his home. So long as we bring him business, he'll at least guarantee neutrality in Porcero. After all, what sort of international harbor can they be if they can't protect our goods and people?"

Though Dedrick opened his mouth, Corco raised his hand to continue.

"I know what you're trying to say, but no matter how much Saliena hates merchants, the revival of his ancestral estate is far more important to him than his distaste for commoners. For now, his only chance to make Porcero relevant again are the merchants."

"So the kid's safe, huh?" Dedrick mumbled as his hand ran across his stubble. "Only leaves one."

Corco followed Dedrick's eyes to the final figures on the board. Right in the center of Medala, halfway between Arguna and Qarasi, several figures in the blue of the south were huddled together along the mountain, surrounded by Pacha's red.

"Fadelio's position is... a problem." At once, Corco's frown returned.

"Is Lord Nasica not reliable?" Tama asked.

"He is, for now. Nasica's a diehard member of the religious faction. On the other hand, Pacha and Viribus seem out to destroy the Pacha faith and replace it with the Arcavian nonsense-"

As soon as he caught his words, Corco looked up at Dedrick. Though the mercenary's faith had been insulted, he only raised his brows a bit.

"Sorry," the king said before he looked back down. "Anyways, there's good reason for Nasica to support us. I'm the only king who cares about our ancient faith. And by right, Pacha can't just attack his own lord's estate, even less if he doesn't want to make his followers nervous. Only question is: How long will he play by the rules? When will Pacha do something stupid again? Really, the sooner we get Fadelio and the craftsmen out of this bind, the better."

After Corco had laid out all the information before them, there was a silence in the room, as all of them thought over the scenario they had found tehmselves in. In the end, Dedrick summed it up best.

"In short: We're fucked."

Although Tama had already raised her hand to disagree, Corco silenced her with a stern look.

"Yup, pretty much," he answered. "We can't get any food from the center, because Pacha's got his army there. We can't get any food from the east because of the Bornish fleet and we can't get any from the west because Puscanacra's fleet can't compete against Huaylas. Even if we could get by without food for a while, we have several of our people trapped behind enemy lines, so the pressure to break the stalemate is on us."

"We cannot attempt a sortie? Our troops are strong, and morale is high. Maybe we could surprise and overwhelm the enemy." Tama had frowned ever since they had talked about Fadelio's situation. Of course she would know herself that her plan was unrealistic. Really, she just seemed worried about her brother.

"Are you crazy?" Dedrick laughed at her distress, always the sentimental kind. "Attacking through the Narrows is a trash idea in any case, but they even have a massive advantage in men. Even worse, now they've got support from the Bornish. Who knows how many guns and cannons they have by now? With the castle's walls we still have the upper hand, but a direct battle is... a problem."

"The great warriors of the south are unafraid of sacrifice." An annoyed Tama raised her head to reach Dedrick's chin, not even all the way up to his smirk.

"Anyways," Corco interrupted the argument before it could develop further. "We need to get our people free first, to take some pressure off. Tama, can we get this done?"

"Absolutely. Brother already has ghosts with him. It might take a while to organize an escape, but we can return him without any troubles," Tama puffed out her chest. Corco was quite happy to have the girl on the job. Not only was she competent, it would also keep her away from Saniya for longer and reduce her influence in the city. Although he felt a bit bad about his own suspicions, being careful was more important now than ever. After all, he was about to make a trip of his own.

"Perfect. So then all we need to solve is the 'don't starve' issue. Luckily, some of our new friends have already offered us an out." As Corco looked to the western part of the map, his own grin returned.

"You're gonna do something stupid and reckless again, aren't you?"

"Well, I already wanted to meet the Verdant King and strike a deal. It's an important part of our future plans. Guess I'll just have to push this ahead in the schedule."

"Wait, what? Who's gonna be in charge of the kingdom until you come back?"

Although Dedrick had expected a reckless plan, he might not have expected the king to leave his warring kingdom for a diplomatic mission.

"Well, everyone else is busy with something. You have to stay here to defend the center. Atau is stuck at sea, Fadelio and Brym trapped up north, Tama will be busy with the rescue mission. That only really leaves one, right?"

In the corner of the room, the sleepy Ronnie sprang to life. As if hit by a stun gun, he jumped to his feet.

"Oooh no!" He raised his hands in futile defense.

"Why not?" Corco laughed. "You're good with people. Also, you can do math and such, so you can handle the bureaucratic parts well enough."

"Don't say it!" the desperate chemist shouted.

"Until I come back, I just need someone to keep the machine rolling and make sure there's no revolutions."

"Don't you dare!" His finger pointed, and his voice raised, Ronnie tried to spread menace, but the skinny chemist with the long, thin beard only widened Corco's grin.

"Until my return, Master Hieronymus Bombasticus will supervise Saniya."

"But... I..." A deep sigh escaped Ronnie, as his shoulders slumnped in defeat. "Sometimes I hate you, you know that?"

While Ronnie still cursed his fate, Corco's view had returned to the map. In his head, he added another two figurines: Ronnie in Saniya, and himself in the western Sea. Now they were spread out as much as possible, all of them on their own, all with their own challenges. Now wat the time to show what they were made of, all of them. Corco just hoped it would be enough.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

151 Stubborn

Even though he had spent the last year in Saniya, Corco had never found the time to travel across the Verduic Sea. All that kingdom building had kept him busy. Now that he found himself with some time to appreciate the beauty around, everything seemed strangely familiar. Although it had been many years since he had last visited the waters to Medala's east, the old image in his mind created a perfect overlap with the present.

Before him stretched an endless sea of green. Strange as the water's color was, it was not unhealthy. To Corco's best guess, the entire Verduic Sea, tucked in between Chutwa and Yakuallpa and sprinkled with the Verdant Isles, had incredibly shallow depths for a body its size and was well fed from several warm water streams. As a result, almost the entire sea had conditions perfect for plant life to develop. Never would the forces of nature leave such a chance untaken, and so the sea was covered with algae and various microorganisms, to give the waters their outlandish sheen.

In the distance, large chunks of green jutted out of the waves, like the backs of enormous turtles. Even the lands had taken on he same colors as the water. After all, most of the Verdant Isles lay in tropical and subtropical zones. Their lush vegetation was what gave them their name, not the water around them.

As Corco looked to the distant islands, the ship below his feet gently rocked in the wind. After a while, he managed to tear his eyes away and to the large, square main sail of their vessel. Although he was fascinated by the uniqueness of the Verduic Sea, a kind of sight the other self in his memory was not familiar with, for now there were more practical inquiries to be made.

"So you're only going with one sail?" he looked over to the young verdant prince. Even though winter was upon them, Wacoca wore a short, sleeveless vest, like all the sailors of the Verdant Isles. This way, they could show off their tattoos, not unlike the ones the warriors of southern Medala wore.

"There is a stern sail for mobility, but it is small. We also employ oars if we have to, but most of our navigation is done with the currents. The Verduic Sea is complex and treacherous. We need to remain flexible." The verdant prince stared at the island group ahead.

"Wait, 'navigate by the currents'? How does that even work?" Corco raised an eyebrow. Already the trip felt like it had been worth it. They hadn't left for even an entire day and he had already learned two new things.

"Maybe one day I can show you the keel of one of our ships. I am sure a smart man like you will understand." Wacoca smirked. Although Corco had a few ideas about the design of his host's keels, he would still take any chance to learn something new. For now, he would take what he could get.

"Even if your ships are designed for it, to navigate along the currents still takes crazy understanding of the region, right?"

"Of course." Pride entered Wacoca's voice as he spoke of the achievements of his people. "Just like the Yaku navigate by the stars, the Verdant Folk navigate by the waves. You see, we-"

"I'm dooone!" Drawn by the piercing voice, both Corco and Wacoca turned around. Rather than face the gentle waves, they were confronted by an oncoming storm. Princess Sumaci rushed towards them, a book bound in the south's new style in her hand. Although her patterned silk dress represented the newest style of fashion from Saniya, she stomped towards them on broad legs, surefoot atop the swaying planks.

"What is this garbage?" she shouted and waved the book towards Corco, who could feel his eye twitch the tiniest bit. No doubt did his eyes anticipate another barrage of questions.

"What kind of question might Princess Sumaci be having?" he asked with a strained smile. Really, he would have taken her words with far more calm if it had been the first time she did this.

"The stuff you've written down here is nonsense, isn't it? 'We can't know anything'? How does that make any sense? Who would be satisfied with a lazy answer like this?" Whether her frustration was played or real, Sumaci threw the book to the ground to reinforce her point.

"Our understanding of the world is limited by our perception of the world, our perception is limited by our perspective. To me, that seems self-evident. But like that, we can't ever get the full picture, can we? Because we only ever have one perspective?" While he looked at his warrior servant scramble to save the precious tome of knowledge from the waves and Sumaci's wrath, Corco replied in his lecturer tone.

"So to you, there's nothing that will always hold true, no universal truth?" Sumaci narrowed her eyes. "How can that be right? How come people are the same all over the place? Father has been all the way to Enaya. He's met all kinds of folks all over the world, but they are no different from us, by and large. How come there is a common thread that connects all people if they all have a different perspective."

"You're not wrong. But that common thread is only logic, and with only one system of logic, our perspective is still limited."

"So then logic is a universal truth. There you go." Sumaci clapped her hands together, convinced she had trapped Corco in her words for once. Meanwhile, the teacher pinched the bridge of his nose. This was exhausting.

"No, but... wait... Logic is a tautological system. It's self-recursive, if you know what I mean. Which means it can't be proven. It can't be the proof of anything, so it can't provide any truth on its own. It's just how our minds make sense of the world, so it's just part of our perception as well. You can't possibly know that logic actually reflects the real world in any way, because we can't test for that without using logic again. So why couldn't there be a type of logic completely alien from our own, yet just as true, or even truer?"

"Right, that makes sense," the princess mumbled as she lowered her head. Though she might have looked like a deflated student, Corco knew she only thought of more ways he could be wrong. Almost on reflex, Corco took a deep breath. Though just as he thought the storm had faded for now, it got a second wind. Her face shot up, to stare straight into Corco's eyes. "No, wait! I got it! Why would other perspectives matter? Our world is just what we see anyways, isn't it? We're not looking for any answers on the world beyond what we can see and feel, right? So our logic would be all there is, because nothing else will appear in our world. That makes it a universal truth, at least within our system."

"But... that's not what universal means." He really wanted to cry.

"You said we're always limited to our own perspectives. Now you're just splitting hairs, aren't you?"

"No, but..." For a moment, Corco was stumped, trying to explain the limits of human knowledge to the princess. Ever since she had started to learn at his school in Saniya, she had asked these kinds of difficult questions of her teachers. At first it was still okay, since she only asked a few more questions than her classmates. However, Sumaci was far too quick a learner. By now her questions had a level of tricky that made Corco struggle. Even worse, the girl seemed to revel in her attempts to make him speechless. Ever since he had received his new memories, the king had never struggled to answer questions, never had his answers challenged. Frankly, he wasn't used to it. So rather than answer the tricky question, Corco sighed and explained his stance instead.

"Look, I just feel we're far too arrogant. Your assumption is, as far as I can tell: We can learn a fundamental truth about the world. I think that's an unreasonable claim, from an objective perspective."

"You're just a pessimist, you just don't believe in the power of people. Just look at how much we have achieved, how much we have become masters of the world around us. How could we have done this if a true, deep understanding of the world did not rest within us?"

"I agree with Lady Sumaci." At some point during Sumaci's barrage, Mayu had emerged from the lower deck and joined their group. "You tend to be very negative about these things, cousin. Really, you should consider the impact your attitude has on your people, even more so as a king."

Annoyed by his cousin's nonsense, Corco returned a dry look. Somehow, he already knew where this was going.

"On the other hand, Lady Sumaci should be more careful with her words. After all, King Corco is a veritable lord now, and cannot be addressed so casually. This governor would much prefer if Lady Sumaci addressed me first, as a go-between. Many of Lady Sumaci's questions can be answered that way, and we do not need to take cousin's valuable time."

Although his cousin supported Corco on the surface, Mayu stood shoulder to shoulder with Sumaci, and looked at Corco the entire time he 'chided' the girl in a soft voice. More than anything, it seemed like his cousin was determined to keep the princess away from Corco.

"Look, Mayu, I'm really glad you came along to help in the negotiations, but on this issue, you frankly have no idea what you're talking about." Corco really didn't have the mind for Mayu's politics, or some romance drama.

"Of course I do. We were talking about your negative attitude to the future of the empire, did we not?"

Proud as Pacha, Mayu stretched his spine towards the main sail. Meanwhile, Corco shared a smirk with Sumaci as Wacoca shook his head, a signal Mayu promptly overlooked.

"Anyways, I'm glad you came along to help as a go-between during the talks," the king slapped Mayu's shoulder. "It's good to have someone who's already been there and knows the local customs and culture." In the end, Corco decided to change topics and spare his cousin the embarrassment. They'd have to get along, at least until Pacha's siege would be lifted.

"After all, this governor is even familiar with the great King Hulpatec. Who else could take responsibility for this vital task? Even further, the King of the South is my cousin. As relatives, and as men of the south, we need to combine our forces to resist the invasion of outsiders. What else could family be for?"

Although Corco doubted Mayu's commitment to the family name, he really didn't care to expose is cousin on this. Thus the atmosphere turned a bit awkward, until Wacoca decided to bring salvation.

"There should be no need to worry about tricky negotiations. I am sure father will be more than receptive to your offer, King Corco. After all, we are all men of Pacha. In the face of these invaders from the east, it is our duty to protect out faith."

"True, the actions of the north, the blatant attempt to introduce the arcavian heresy, will only anger the Divines! Do they intend to sink all of Yakuallpa under the wrath of the Heavens?" Mayu added with a shiver in his voice, from anger or fear. For once, he seemed truthful in his words.

Although Corco was far less confident about any of this than his traveling companions, he retained a shallow smile. Over the past years, he had gotten much better at pretend politician play. If he didn't stop soon, he might turn into a real one, his worst nightmare.

"Well, let's see how it goes," he said before he turned to Sumaci. "As for your questions: This might not be the greatest place to talk about complex issues like these. I'll put together a proper, structured response and then we can revisit the issue with some time and space on our hands."

"...because you can't come up with an answer," the princess mumbled.

"I said we can deal with it later. You do realize that I'm trying to end our argument on a positive note, right?" Corco was baffled. How could this girl be so phenomenally stubborn?

"But our people have achieved such greatness in our battle with nature. Just look at our beautiful home!"

While Corco, Sumaci and Mayu had all been stubborn in their own right, Wacoca had brought their ship close enough to the islands that they were now among them. From up close, the Verdant Isles looked even more impressive than they had from a distance. Somehow, the tiny island to their portside was covered over and over in trees and shrubs. Throughout the forest, sturdy tarps had been bound to the tree trunks. Beneath them, bronze-skinned Verdant Folk sat to work, eat, sleep or play. With only a little bit of tarp and some fences to create borders, the space had been turned into a giant, communal home. Some ways away, the forest had been cut away, to make room for rows upon rows of farms. At the edge of the clearing, the king could see an elephant, led by its rider, rip out a giant stump with the support of another dozen workers.

Croco had to agree with Sumaci: In their own way, the Verdant Folk had managed to take command of the forces of nature. Already, the king itched to find out more about their way of life. Still, based on cold, hard facts, the girl was wrong. In time, he would make her understand the deeper complexities of logic and empiricism. However, he would never lose sight of his goal, so for now he would not deal with the arrogant girl, or spend more time to learn new things from the Verdant Folk. After all, he hadn't come here as a tourist, he had come to get his hands on a new fleet.

And although the religious threat of Arcavia might not convince anyone but some naive youngsters, the belly of their ship had been loaded with more than enough arguments to guarantee safe negotiations. Plus, the Verdant Isles were only the first station of his journey. On his way back, he would pass this place again, to seal any deal he might be denied the first time around.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

152 Underwater

After their fleet had moved into the heart of the Verdant Isles, Wacoca had returned to his duties at the bough of their flagship. Although he had left behind his guest, Corco didn't really mind. After all, they needed their captain to navigate through the tricky currents and complex terrain if they wanted to reach their goal in one piece.

This was one of the main reasons the Verdant Isles had remained independent from the powerful Chutwa Empire at its doorstep: Without any knowledge of the local seas, enemy fleets would be hopeless in a fight against the verdant captains.

While the prince did his best to keep them alive, Princess Sumaci and Governor Mayu decided to show off their knowledge of the islands, and explained the local curiosities to Corco. Or rather, Mayu tried, but Sumaci never let him finish a sentence. Maybe she was too excited that for once, she could play teacher instead of student. According to the princess, the island they had just crossed was only a small outpost, a new island to be claimed by their forces. Proper verdant cities, they claimed, were much more advanced, in no way inferior to Medalan ones. This was even more so the case on the five great islands.

Since they inhabited the countless, tiny islands of the Verduic Sea, the Verdant Folk were spread all over the waters. Still, all of them called one of the five great islands their home. Even if they lived somewhere else, all the smaller pieces of land were dependent on the larger ones, at least in theory.

With great pride, the young princess spoke of her homeland, and the bravery and ingenuity of her people, first among them the many captains of the Verduic Sea.

Whoever managed to rule over these great islands would get to call himself a colored king. Although the kings themselves stood in a cooperative relationship to defend against outside forces, most of the time they held more of an awkward armistice. After all, there was no reason to trust any ruler of equal status, a thought Corco could sympathize with very well.

Still, among any number of equals, there would always be one who was more equal than the rest. In this case, the most equal colored king was the ruler of Rasacopa, the largest and most populous of the Verdant Isles. As a result, the king of Rasacopa alone had the right to call himself the Green King, in reference to the Isles themselves. This was the place the currents pulled them towards, the first goal of Corco's newest journey.

After they had sailed through the currents for another day, always after the hottest breeze of air, they had found their way to the Jurau Bay of Rasacopa, home of the Green King Taoco Hulpatec. As soon as Corco saw the city of Jurau with it's ancient stone harbor and the dark wooden buildings, he was reminded of home. Although there were many differences in details like the building materials and ornamentation along the facades, the characteristic rounded shapes of the roofs were the same as back in Medala. After all, the Verdant Folk were adherents of Pacha just the same as the Yaku. If the Green King was sentimental, it might even make his negotiations a bit easier, though Corco wondered if such sentimentalities would play any role at all.

Of course, he wouldn't have to wonder for long. When they entered the harbor, they did so without much fuss, right into the royal quarters. Beyond their religious rites and the etiquette within a crew, the VerDant Folk didn't have much in the way of rituals. Further, their entire trip was still a secret. After all, why else would the King of the South come on a Verduic ship, rather than on one of his own?
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

There was a reason most kings never traveled. In his current state, Corco would be a very easy target for assassins. However, while this part of his journey could have been handled by someone like Ronnie, he really couldn't rely on anyone else for what he hoped would come after.

In the end, Sumaci's constant chatter only ceased when they reached the king's private quarters in the mansion of the Hulpatec clan. While he watched Sumaci disappear behind the door, one of Corco's servants held a mirror up to his face, to make sure the king would be presentable when he met his equal. With a nod to the ghost warrior, Corco turned to the wolf mercenary who had also followed along and took off his weapons, everything except for his hidden dagger. Since the two kings would meet in private, all guards and weapons would have to stay outside.

"Good luck," Mayu nodded to his cousin. Although the governor's frown showed his displeasure, his voice was firm, and seemed genuine. Two days together at sea had been enough to relax the relationship between the cousins a lot. Of course, Corco's open disinterest in Sumaci's badgering had helped in that regard as much as Atau's absence had.

After Corco had said goodbye to his cousin, he turned to the bamboo sliding door. What he entered was a room of light and shadow. Although it was supposed to be a king's chamber, the room was lit quite well from the outside. At once, Corco thought about the chance of an assassination, until he remembered that the entire complex was surrounded by a private garden. Even more, all the openings in the room were to small to even let an arrow through. Rather than window, the walls were covered in holes, over and over. Patterned in the form of wavy lines, they cast shadows to give Corco the impression of an underwater scenery.

In the center of the room stood a small table, with a large man seated on the ground behind it and a piece of cloth for Corco to sit to his opposite. As soon as he saw the king, Corco stood still and waited for his opposite's words. After all, he was the guest here. Then there was silence. Corco could feel his lips purse. Rather than feel fear from the foreign king's stare, he felt annoyed at the man's rudeness. What was this supposed to be, some pointless demonstration of power? Only after a good while did the Green King motion to his front.

With a silence to mirror his other, Corco stomped ahead and sat down. Just as rude as his opposite, he leaned his elbows on the table before he spoke.

"What's up with the decor? It's like we're underwater, isn't this a bad omen?"

In response to Corco's rudeness, the Green King leaned forward too, to reveal his own face beyond the shadows. As Wacoca's father, he also showed much of the young prince's handsome features, though the father's grin revealed several missing teeth. Considering the clean look of the leftovers, the king seemed to have lost them in a battle or accident, rather than to poor hygiene.

"You're a rude one, aren't you?" the king whistled through the hole in his teeth.

"Rudeness begets rudeness. What is this, some kind of weird test?" Corco motioned around, to the ominous, empty room.

"Where else are we supposed to meet? I'll invite foreign diplomats onto my ship, but what about you? You're a foreign king, you can't sit lower than me. So where else would we meet?"

"How about wherever you usually meet with kings?" Corco shrugged.

"What sort of king would be crazy enough to leave his kingdom and travel to a foreign lord's residence!?" the Green King shouted half an octave higher. "You even gave up all your weapons! Are you crazy, or are you foolish?"

"So is this why we're meeting here? So you can check on my mental state under stress?" Again Corco looked around. Although the room was a bit eerie, it couldn't be considered an efficient threat. "I'm... unimpressed."

In response, the Green King exhaled and leaned back as tension left his body.

"No, this place here is my private cultivation chamber. The waves let me face my fears, and remind me of my own weakness. We would not have met were you not teacher to two of my children. However, you are, so I indulged in my children's selfishness. Even so, we cannot meet in public, or etiquette would become a nightmare. So in the end, where else could I bring you but here, crazy king?"

"...I apologize. I have been rude."

As soon as he understood the other party's intent, Corco righted his posture and hinted at a bow.

"Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, King of the South, greets the Green King Taoco Hulpatec III."

"Yeah, likewise," Taoco waved off Corco's attitude. "So... my daughter tells me you're a smart man."

"Princess Sumaci exaggerates," Corco smiled. "I was just lucky to get my hands on knowledge many are not familiar with. Using the knowledge is what makes intelligence."

"True. What good are all those books if I killed you right here and now?" Taoco said in the same conversational tone. A deep sight escaped Corco.

"Can we skip the games? I've played along for now, but I really don't care for these power plays. We're alone anyways, so there's no reason to vie for strength or whatever. I'll just tell you what I want and what I can offer, and then you can tell me why you want double. How does that sound?"

Again, Tacao waved his hand in a kingly gesture. Now that he saw a proper king for once, Corco decided to copy some of these mannerisms. If nothing else, they seemed pretty fun.

"In that case, here's my first request: Open trade from, to and through the Verdant Isles."

"Impossible." Not only did the Green King not raise his voice, he even began to smirk. "Although I am a king, I cannot control all the independent captains of the Verdant Folk, even less so the other kings."

"Of course you can." Corco leaned forward and lowered his voice a bit. "I'm not some idiot Chutwa noble. I'm a Medalan. We've had connections to your Isles for centuries. And we know very well that a colored king can put certain ship's banners under his protection, to make them untouchable within the Verduic Sea."

"Right, certain banners. Not yours."

"And why is that?"

"Well for one, you represent a foreign kingdom, and this type of honor is limited to Verdant Folk or individual vessels."

"...right." Corco frowned. This Green King didn't make negotiations easy on him. Time and again, he tried to interrupt Corco's rhythm. Thus, he decided to try a different angle. "You're aware of the political situation in my home?"

"My children have kept us informed," Tacao nodded. Even though he had admitted that his children had acted as spies, Corco decided to ignore it.

"In that case, you should know what's happening in the Medala Empire, right? While the empire is split, both the northern and the central Kingdom are hard at work to eradicate the old Pacha faith."

"Our faith is our own. If you value your faith, you should be able to defend it." Again the smirk got wider, and showed off more of the missing teeth. Since there was no point to the sentimental route, Corco raised his hands in defeat.

"Well, it was worth a shot. Okay, then how about this: You get ten percent of every cargohold that passes through this place."

"A tempting offer," the Green King whistled. "Still, Medala has far too many ships. If I allow all of them free passage, how many vessels would be able to pass through our waters tax-free? Like this, the Verdant Folk would miss out on even more money. Not to mention the trouble I would get from making all the other captains draw back. If only the Hulpatec clan profits, there would be trouble."

Of course, 'tax' was nothing but Verduic code for 'theft', but Corco wouldn't expose his opposite like that.

"Because if you don't give me guarantees, no ship will travel through your island group at all. If you take half my ships as 'tax', it sounds like a great deal at first, but half of zero is still zero. Also, you can always chose to share some of your profits from this deal with other captains. It's not my fault if you make enemies from your own greed. Speaking of the other captains, you're aware that there's four more people on these islands who can offer me the same conditions, right?"

"Are you blackmailing me?" For the first time since their meeting, Taoco's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Corco was baffled at the response.

"...what are you even talking about? You think you have a natural right to plunder?"

"Careful what you say. After all, I know what you really want. If I allow this kind of free trade, I would wager that you would buy as much grain from us and Chutwa as your ships can carry."

For the first time, Corco could feel the Green King's pressure. However, it wasn't the narrow eyes or low voice, and it wasn't the eerie room either. Rather, he hadn't expected to have his weakness this exposed.

"You know, my son is a bit too proper, in some regards, but Sumaci grew up right." Taoco's chest swelled. "Before you came in here, that girl told me quite a few interesting things. Like how you're at war with your brother from the central kingdom, and how your trade routes are cut off." He leaned forward even more. "How half your country will starve soon."

"The girl exaggerates," Corco said, his face unchanged despite his discomfort. "I'm sure Princess Sumaci failed to understand our exact position, but it is nowhere near as dire, I can assure you." Roaring laughter answered Corco's calm response.

"Ahaha! So she's right then!" The king slapped the table. "At this point, I wonder if you'd have ever talked to me if you didn't need to feed your people."

Although Taoco had tried to trap Corco further, this time he had made a miscalculation. Right away, Corco's smile grew warmer again.

"Of course I would have. After all, I have a second request to make of you, one independent of trade deals. Interested?"

"You couldn't even make me agree to your first one," Taoco scoffed. "Still, tell me your second request so long as my mood remains good."

"I want you to rob Medalan ships," Corco grinned.

"Huh?" Now it was Taoco's turn to lose composure. As it turned out, the Green King had a much weaker pokerface than the King of the South.

"Of course you won't rob the southern ships," Corco continued with a raised finger. "However, my good brothers have established contact with the Arcavians, merchants and warriors from across the eastern Sea. They want to march through Medala, to establish trade with the Chutwa Empire. It won't be long until they do, and on their way to the riches of the west they will come through here."

"So what does it have to do? Whether or not we take them is our problem, right?"

"Sure, but I can provide you with the number of vessels, the cargo and the headings for all the trade fleets that leave Medala. All I ask in return is that you try to keep the Medalan sailors alive as much as possible."

Even when he plotted a secret deal with a foreign lord, Corco would never forget his own people. Whether or not they lived under one of the other kings mattered little in this regard.

"Maybe you're not a hopeless case after all," Taoco sighed.

"So does that mean we have a deal?" the merchant king asked with a wide grin.

"Sure, we can talk about your second request, although I'm still unclear about the details. As for the first, you best forget about it. In the end, Medala just doesn't have enough goods or wealth to make it attractive. Our benefit doesn't make up for our costs."

Although he still denied Corco's request, at least Taoco had finally admitted to his real problem: There weren't enough benefits to annoy his fellow kings over. To the merchant king's great luck, if there was one thing he had more than enough of, it was trade goods.

"I knew you'd say that," he smiled like a car salesman. "Had you played along for sentimental or religious reasons, I would have looked down on you." Rather than answer, the Green King Tacao only stared at Corco and waited for the punchline. "As a matter of fact, I can provide you with another reason for our cooperation, more gold and silver than what you can count in a lifetime. However, I cannot do so now. That part will have to wait until my return."

"You are leaving already? I assume you have plans and did not just get wet feet?" The Green King sat up, and for the first time, the eyes of the kings met with both of them in a proper posture.

"Not exactly. I'll stay a bit longer so we can talk a bit, maybe tie some deeper knots. However, since I managed to get out of my kingdom for once, I'll take the chance to visit other countries as well. For now, our next stop is Chutwa."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

153 Family Ties

"So then if the world follows common laws, would it not follow that we cannot act on anything? Would we not also have to suffer under the same rules, be slaves to them?"

While Corco sauntered along the harbor and tried to forget about his worries for a moment, Sumaci followed along. As always, she asked her tricky questions with an eager face.

"Of course not, Lady Sumaci. After all, Pacha has created the world for humanity to conquer. Since the Divines have amassed within the heavens, us mortals are left here on Earth. If the gods do not watch over us, how could we ever fall under their rule?"

Meanwhile, Mayu had stuck himself in between the two, and tried to answer Sumaci to the best of his ability, which meant: Not very well. Although his cousin's answer missed the point and was problematic in several other ways, Corco really didn't care to correct him.

After his meeting with the green king, Corco had decided to stay on Rasacopa for a while. Anything else would have seemed rude, as far as the young king was concerned. Thus, he had spent a few days on a diplomatic sightseeing tour. First he had visited the local Pacha oracle, though he had decided to not get distracted by a reading. The mercury was dangerous anyways. Still, the ancient temple, hidden in the deep jungle, had been no less imposing than classic Medalan architecture. After, he had traveled all over the island, seen the great hidden bay of Auquimarca, the flame jugglers of Jurau, and the Jirishanca, King Hulpatec's personal collection of exotic animals. Meanwhile, Prince Wacoca had gotten their vessel ready for another journey. Meanwhile, his two tails had always behind him. Sumaci had annoyed him with question after question, while Mayu had annoyed Sumaci with his incessant, unhelpful answers.

Thus, a strange tension had built among their group over the past few days. Eager to find something else to talk about, Corco looked around. In the end, he was alerted to a bustle from the front. This was strange, since they were still close to the green king's mansion. For days, the only noise around him had been his two newest companions, so he had gotten used to it. While he followed the newest distraction to the harbor, Sumaci and Mayu were talking past each other all the way. At last Corco saw a crowd huddle around a pair, a man and a woman. With the sort of oblivious glow only lovers could exude, the two stood in between two large groups, who shouted congratulations at them.

"What's that? A marriage procession?" Corco asked, half out of curiosity and half to get Sumaci's mind off her incessant questions.

"Indeed," Mayu replied instead. "The Verdant Folk still follow old traditions. Thus, they have kept the old marriage rites of our ancestors alive and well. Can you see that ship over there?" he pointed to a small rowboat fastened to the pier. Over and over, the boat had been covered in vibrant green vines. "On top of this boat, the couple will go to visit a lonely island, and they will need to fend for themselves for an entire day. Only once they have proven that they can care for each other will they be rescued by their relatives. Medala might still retain this tradition in our marital walk, but the tradition has been... 'civilized'."

Mayu's face scrunched up in displeasure before he continued. "Since some couples came to death during their walks through the wilderness, the entire ritual has lost its edge. Modern Medalan couples only stroll around the countryside for half a day, with no danger to their lives. It has taken all meaning out of the rituals of our ancestry, and it no longer challenges the devotion between husband and wife like it should."

"I was unaware you knew this much about the Verdant traditions, Governor Saqartu," the princess said, and turned to Mayu. For the first time since they had gone on their own strolls, Sumaci looked seemed in Corco's cousin.

"Of course I would. House Saqartu has controlled the land along the Verduic Sea for generations and we have always been a dear friend to our brothers and sisters across the waters." With a silly smirk, the governor puffed out his chest before he glanced over to Corco. "What sort of lord would I be if I did not know the rites of our closest allies, even worse, the rites of our own people?"

In response, the king only had an eye roll to offer. They had clashed over a similar issue before when Mayu had shown a lack of respect. However, ever since Corco got the upper hand during his first banquet, Mayu had remained respectful towards his cousin, anywhere except in front of the verdant princess. At least 'Lord Saqartu's' actions didn't seem malicious any more, no longer motivated by his pride or his lust for power. To Corco, the young lord seemed more like a kid eager to show off in front of his pretty teacher. Maybe it would have even been a bit cute, had Mayu not been a middle-aged man already.

No matter how laughable Corco found the entire interaction, it was time to retreat and let them sort stuff out together. Just as the king looked for an excuse to leave the pair behind, Sumaci ruined his plans. Conscious or not, she really had a knack for that sort of thing.

"Heavens! Isn't this Aya!? Why is little Aya getting married!? Excuse me, I will be right back!" Sumaci shouted, before she rushed over to the crowd. Her arms flailed in the air as her goodbyes to her old friend mixed in with the rest of the crowd.

Against Corco's expectations, Mayu stayed behind.

"What do you think?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the princess, who had broken through the cordon and embraced the bride-to-be.

"I think it's a good idea." Corco wouldn't pretend ignorance at Mayu's intentions. Had he failed to notice Mayu's attempts to court Sumaci, he would have been called an idiot, and rightly so. "You're over thirty, so you're the right age to think about marriage anyways. Plus, you're the lord of Puscanacra now, and your position is secure."

"Unless-"

"Don't start." His hand raised to his cousin's face, a deep frown covered Corco's face. Maybe it was the heavy contrast from his previous bored look, but Mayu calmed down before his rant could even begin. "I don't mind if you put me down a bit to show off in front of your new girlfriend, but say another bad word about Atau and we'll be enemies again before you can finish your sentence. You're brothers, and both of you have your own paths. Atau's not even interested in your fucking position, so it's nothing but paranoia. If we want to unite against the north, properly, this petty shit has to stop."

For a few moments more, Mayu matched his cousin's gaze, before he looked down to fix his fancy red robe.

"...I apologize," he said in a deep and earnest voice. Maybe there was hope yet.

"You should apologize to your brother, not to me," Corco sighed.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

As they shared some silence of peace, their eyes followed the newly married pair. Now that the bride had pried herself away from the clingy Sumaci, the pair had stepped onto the little boat. Soon they would set course for one of the tiny islands which dotted the sea all around the great island.

"Maybe one day," Mayu said at last, more to himself than to his king.

Rather than force the issue, Corco decided to give the young lord some time to think. As Mayu settled into his position more and more, he shouldn't feel any more threat from Atau and the problem would disappear on its own. Thus, the king addressed the only issue his subservient seemed to value more than his patriarch position.

"Anyways, you've got your title, a calm estate and you're the right age. There's no reason for you to not marry. Meanwhile, Sumaci is what, twenty-two?"

"Twenty," Mayu said, and showed the sort of expression halfway between disdain and anger, unsure whether he wanted to be offended by Corco's lack of Sumaci-related knowledge, or whether he felt pity for the unenlightened king.

"Right. For a princess she's getting a bit old as well, so it's time for her to look for a proper partner. I'm sure her father's already looking anyways, so there should be no hurdle there. She's a princess, so you're well matched, and a marriage pact is a great way to pull the Green King into the alliance with our family. If you plan to pursue Sumaci, you have whatever support I can offer. I'm all for it."

At once Mayu's face was all smiles. As he nodded, he looked back over to Sumaci, who stood at the pier and watched the lovers come in and out of view as they bobbed across the waves. Of course, Corco was also aware of the old rites. According to ancient legend, the first rulers of Medala, now Divine Protectors of the imperial family, had found one another in a life-and-death struggle against an ancient beast. It was the sort of romance Corco would expect from a martial society surrounded by enemies.

"Now if only Princess Sumaci could look upon me the same way she looks upon you, cousin." Mayu said in a sour tone and brought Corco out of his thoughts.

"You're not really jealous of me, are you? It's not like Sumaci is interested in me. She's just not convinced that I am smarter than her," the king gloated. "In the end, the girl just wants to make me look dumb. Though of course, some little girl could never be a match to the great King Corcopaca!"

While Corco offered his fakest laugh, hand on hip, Mayu looked unconvinced. His face scrunched together, his eyes soon turned back to the pier again, where his mouth loosened and his eyebrows tightened further. What a love-struck fool his cousin was.

"Okay, I'll tell you what: In a day, I will leave for the west, to Chutwa."

"You still have not told me what we plan to do in the Chutwa Empire. Are the lands to the west not allies to King Amautu?"

"It's not that simple," Corco raised a finger, happy to do the teaching for a change. "Even in a small place like Medala, there's an infinite supply of interests and backstabbers. Chutwa is at least ten times bigger than Medala, so why would everyone there be Amautu's ally? For now, I will go visit my sister and her new husband. Maybe I can come back with a deal. And since this is a private matter of the imperial family, there is no need for a large entourage."

"Corco, you wish me to remain here?"

In response, Corco smiled his most genuine smile, well-practiced from years of business and politics.

"You're free to come if you feel like it, but I'd say it's a bit of a waste, right? After all, you'd only sit by the side, and you don't even know my plans yet. Don't forget, we still need to deal with Pacha, so I can't waste a bunch of time to get you ready for negotiations. No, it's much better if we split up. While Wacoca and I will travel west and establish a trade network to counter the northern blockade, you can stay here with Sumaci, and... win her over I guess. That way I'll be out of your hair, and the weird girl can concentrate on you alone."

"But what happens if she is still not interested after you have left?"

With worry, Corco looked at his cousin, who seemed clueless when it came to girls. Had this guy never spent any time with courtesans, or played around in the commoner's quarters? For any other young noble, that was the standard modus operandi, but somehow Mayu had missed out on important experiences. At least with his shrewd mother still around, he wouldn't get taken advantage off.

"...if, even with all the help, you still can't get the girl, it's on you. Don't worry though, you just have to be yourself. Show some confidence, man. Aren't you always good at that?" With a hearty slap, Corco tried to encourage his cousin, but Mayu turned pale, his eyes unfocused, set on some horrific scenario in his future.

For a while the two stared at each other, speechless. Meanwhile, each of the two families at the harbor released a raven, to guide the happy couple on their course. With the release of the celestial messengers, their festivities were over. Now it was up to the couple alone to survive within the inhospitable dangers of the wild tropics. As they watched Sumaci return from among the crowd, Corco decided to leave the dating advice here for now.

"So that's that," he said. "We'll make quick work of that Chutwa lord and try to get back within two weeks. Make use of that time and show me some progress when I'm back. After all: If we want to deal with Pacha and his new allies, we will need some strong supporters of our own."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

154 Loyal or Stubborn

This wasn't the first time Inri found herself within the hallowed halls of the Triumvirate, but she still felt out of place. During her last time as speaker she had managed to arrange this extraordinary meeting of the Triumvirate, to let the two kingdoms at war work out their differences with the help of a third party. However, like in previous meetings she had been overlooked or talked down to like a child. Neither her youth nor her gender helped her cause in that regard. While she looked from one corner of the triangular table to the other, she watched the two men hold their discussion by themselves.

"Severe damages have been caused to the fleet of our allies." The middle-aged man had gray streaks in his long hair, trimmed neat and tidy. Although he was smiling like he would have been taught to in front of a higher ranking noble, there was a severity between his brows he could never quite hide from others. Or maybe he didn't feel a need to, Inri thought. After all, that was the kind of man Palletio was.

"You mean the foreigners?" From his own corner of the table, King Amautu asked his question, one brow raised.

"Indeed. Lord Herak has come with best intentions. Despite our lack of hospitality, he is willing to work with our people in peace even after the incident of Lord Olbit Kallas' death. Even so, three of the Duke's ships have been sunk before he could even reach our harbors. Not only that, they were attacked by ships which came from Porcero, a port under King Amautu's protection. Now, in order to preserve the peace, this servant believes that someone would need to compensate our foreign friends for the damages incurred."

Although Inri snorted at Palletio's ridiculous claim at peace, she remained silent. After her first few meetings, she soon realized that anything she said could become a weapon against her. For now she would let the others do the talking. After all, King Amautu wasn't too willing to play along with Pacha's plans.

"Do you imply I should pay for your ally's war casualties?" Amautu smiled. "A servant should understand the ludicrous nature of such a claim. After all, those vessels were no merchants ships. The sunk ships were lost as a result of a battle with an enemy navy. Even if they had been merchants, the navy did not belong the northern kingdom. They were King Corco's, sent north to pack supplies for the harsh southern winter."

"In that case, King Pachacutec wishes for permission to recoup the damages from among King Corcopaca's own possessions." At last Palletio revealed his real objective.

"Do whatever you must," Amautu waved off. "This entire war is an issue between the southern and central kingdoms. While some may speak of peace, the northern kingdom intends to keep it, and will thus not get involved in any warfare."

"However, the southern king is stubborn in his insistence and is not willing to compensate the damages." A nice way to say that Pacha was stuck in front of Qarasi Castle, with no way to plunder the lands of the south. "Thus, King Pachacutec requests that King Amautu stand down as Lord Herak confiscates King Corco's goods in Porcero, until the king's allies have been compensated."

"Outrageous!" Although Inri had remained quiet for now, she could stay silent no more. "A cheap excuse to rob the south of its treasures! What sort of nonsense is this, gifting the treasures of Medala away to placate some foreign invaders!"

Even though she had tried to provoke a reaction, Palletio looked at her with the same severe friendliness he had used on Amautu. The old servant reminded her of her etiquette teachers, surrounded by an aura of calm insistence.

"Lady Inri, please understand. The future of the Empire is dependent on these foreigners, whether we like it or not. After all, it is the express wish of Grand Ancestor Viribus to work with them. Thus, we need to remain open-minded and try to improve relations. Even King Corco has taken heed from the progressive minds of the east. Does the lady imply that the central kingdom be denied the treasures they carry?"

With a snort, Amautu brought himself back into the conversation. Still, Inri didn't need anyone to defend her, or her lord.

"Indeed, the south has benefited from contact with the west, yet we do not give away ancient Yaku wealth. These people you have brought into the kingdom are dangerous. They plan to take over our lands, or take everything we have. How can someone like you not see this?"

"Lady Inri, this is not a decision for servants to make. A servant shall only ever execute the orders of his master, nothing more and nothing less. Although in this regard, General Atoc's court has always been very... independent." Palletio's frown deepened by just a fraction.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Inri leaned forward and showed her teeth like a wolf. "Among all of the Pluritac warrior courts, my father's is the only ones to uphold tradition! How can we uphold tradition without any thought? The wishes of our distant ancestors will always trump the wishes of those right before us!"

"How could the Divines in the Heavens show worry for the living? By right, the only man with the authority to decide on House Pluritac's matters should be the Grand Ancestor."

"That is enough!" Amautu shouted. Unused to such an outburst, the two servants looked over in shock. After a strategic second of silence, the king continued. "You will not act as ruler in my administration. Whoever does trade or work on northern land stands under the protection of the northern king. This king advises you to recoup your ally's money elsewhere, or to hire yourself some better barbarian sailors next time."

As Palletio's frown deepened again, Inri mirrored his actions with a smile. Although the old man had a far greater experience in the political arena, he didn't know the new Amautu nearly as well as her who had spent the last few years in the capital. Now that he had sufficiently annoyed Amautu with his constant praise of Arcavia and insistence of the ancestor's primacy, his plans to rob King Corco's brandy production was a failure, despite possible arrangements they might have had beforehand.

"This servant understands and apologizes for his rudeness, King Amautu." When he understood his position, Palletio's face softened and he bowed. "However, even so, King Pachacutec's ally wishes to be granted passage through the north. Of course, this passage would only be granted for trade convoys."

"So the Bornish want to sneak their way through my kingdom, do they?" Amautu asked in a casual tone. Somehow, Inri felt like the northern king enjoyed his role as the most important man in the room.

"Since King Corco has attacked the southern route already, our allies deem it not safe until the end of the war. Thus, they wish to travel through King Amautu's lands. Of course, the central kingdom will pay all tariffs demanded by the northern and eastern lords on the way."

As soon as Palletio threw money into the mix, Amautu's face looked more earnest.

"So long as they honor the rules of the northern kingdom, they will receive passage rights. However, those foreign convoys need to be limited in size. They will not be allowed to bring more than one hundred men on any single trip. After all, this king is not wont to invite a foreign army onto his lands."

"This servant is gracious for Lord Amautu's leniency. The central kingdom will adhere to all of King's demands to the fullest."

"This king wishes for a good cooperation between the kingdoms." Although Amautu did his best to prevent a smug grin, Inri could still see his lips twitch up the tiniest amount. So long as this conflict continued, Amautu's northern kingdom would be the most important player. In his position, he could play both sides and get as many advantages as he wished. Without any work on his part, he had just gained all the tariffs Pacha had hoped to win for himself and his lords. This sort of advantage would only get Amautu ahead in the battle of the three kingdoms. Even though the other kingdoms knew well what was happening, neither side could do anything about it, unless they wanted to risk Amautu allying with their enemy.

"Is there anything else? This king is in a generous mood," the smug king said.

"The King of the Center has no further proposals to table to the Triumvirate Meeting," Palletio bowed again.

"In that case, the word no longer lies with the attacker. Now, it is time for the defender to table proposals. Word lies with the Official of the King of the South," the priest said and motioned to Inri.

"Thank you, Hawcawac." Before she launched into the discussion, Inri looked around the table again. While Amautu leaned back, ready to receive even more gifts, Palletio was leaned forward, eager to lay traps or refute her claims. This really was no work for her, but King Corco had no one else left in the capital. Until her mother returned, Inri could only present her proposals in a clean manner and hope for the best.

"In that case, The King of the South requests the King of the Center lift his southern blockade. Denial of food transports is an atrocity against the Yaku people, and has not been sanctioned by the Triumvirate Meeting. Thus, it can be seen as a cruel and illegal act of warfare."

"This servant wonders what 'blockade' Lady Inri might be talking about," Palletio replied. In turn, the girl's eyes narrowed.

"Does the central kingdom deny that they have blocked off all paths south, and blocked off any grain transports for the winter with them?"

"Unfortunately, the land route is blocked off, yes." Palletio nodded his head, though his eyes never left Inri. "However, a blockade has never been the intention of the central kingdom. Of course merchants are free to travel through the Narrows, but an army is always difficult to control, and their safety cannot guaranteed. Although the circumstances are regretful, there is nothing to be done about this problem. As for the east:

"As should be well known, the central kingdom fields nary a vessel on the Weltalic Sea. If the southern fleet feels threatened, it would be through the eastern forces of Arcavia. While they might be King Pachacutec's allies, they will not receive the king's orders. Thus, please allow this servant to decline Lady's request."

"So what about the west?" Inri sneered at the shoddy excuses. "Since the start of the war, no merchant ship has made its way back south. Did the easterners carry their ships past the mountains and attacked southern traders in the western waters as well?"

"It appears as if the pirate plague along the western shores has gotten worse again. What a tragedy," Palletio shook his head, and Inri almost believed his nonsense acting. "The central kingdom will do its utmost to eradicate these vermin, as soon as the quarrel with the southern kingdom has been cleared."

"What does the northern kingdom think about this issue?" Since she couldn't make any headway with the slippery servant, Inri turned to the complacent king instead. However, Amautu was no less cunning than Palletio.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"Since there has been no concrete proof presented, this king is unwilling to force any action from the central kingdom. What sort of precedent would this set for future meetings?"

It was a true politician's answer. Inri really wanted to strangle the bastard, like a true politician.

"Then what about my brother? He has been chased by a hostile army of warriors, all the way into Lord Nasica's lands. Now he is besieged!"

"Again, since the king's troops are away at the moment, there is real trouble with bandits in the king's lands. However, the King of the Center has never intended for any warriors to come to harm, not outside of battle. King Pachacutec is well-known for his warrior spirit and would never act in such a despicable manner. Lady Inri should choose her words more carefully, lest she be accused of slander."

"So the warriors of the late Emperor are trapped and besieged by a bunch of bandits, is that what you're saying?" Her fists on the dark wood of the table, Inri leaned forward.

"Maybe they have been weakened by their lack of loyalty to the family name," Palletio leaned forward as well.

"Maybe they lack the shamelessness of those who would discard the wishes of the last emperor of Medala, of their last master. Palletio, do you not see what damage your actions have caused to the clan? How can you choose to side with King Pacha? Against the oldest son, against the wishes of the emperor! How can you not see that your success will doom the family?"

"Again, Lady Inri seems to misunderstand her purpose. It is not the role of a servant to make decisions, or choose one master over another. It is his role to serve the clan and it's grandest living member. Without a legitimate patriarch to rule House Pluritac, that role falls onto Grand Ancestor Viribus. Until Lady Inri and her siblings grow up, this servant will repeat his lesson for all time to come. May Atoc's court soon see the light."

Rather than answer, the girl turned quiet as she stared down the stubborn old man. When her long stare yielded no results, she turned over to King Amautu, who was still leaned back, happy to enjoy the show. Like in previous meetings, she was being treated like a child, someone to educate, or someone to toy with. Like this, there was no way to achieve her master's goals. All she could do was hope that her sister would have more success with her methods, or that her mother would soon return from the north.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

155 Vice

"Great master, please let this poor mortal go," the slight tremble only made the woman's light voice sound more attractive, but no amount of beauty would change his course.

"Please excuse me, Miss. This warrior cannot comply. The orders of the house need to be fulfilled." Kizco, warrior of house Rubria, looked back with a frown. This wasn't the first time he did this sort of work for his master. After all, women were one of the few past times the people of Yakuharra had. As the northernmost border town of Medala, few traders would find their way here. There was very little in the way of entertainment. Not even the traveling folk would often make it through the hills, mountains and bandits.

"But master, why do we walk in the dark?" A sigh escaped the warrior's lips. How could this woman understand his plight? His actions were motivated by the wished of his future lord, young master Primu Rubria. Young master Primu always trained his hardest to become a fitting lord in the future, but from time to time, he would see a pretty girl in town and order for her to be brought to his private quarters. Of course his mother, head of the house until the young master's maturity rites, really disliked this sort of activity.

Not only would frequent meetings with unknown women make the young master more vulnerable to attacks, they were also unseemly for a young noble. After all, what would a future lord want with some commoner women? Still, it was the young master's only vice in a life of discipline and hard work. How could Kizco deny him his only pleasure, even more when his personal happiness was on the line as well?

"Miss, please do not make trouble for this servant. This servant only follows master's orders and has no choice in the matter," he answered at last. For a while they walked in silence, ever deeper down the dark corridors of Rubria Castle. Like most castles in the north, the building was designed in more of a Chutwa style. However, compared to the vain and fanciful east where Chutwa buildings were all the rage, here the sturdy houses had tradition. While the easterners found it fashionable to pretend like they lived in the far west, Yakuharra needed the stocky buildings with the thick walls to defend itself from northern raiders.

"Please, master. This servant has a family as well. Do not force this servant."

Again, he looked back. Indeed, the woman was a good bit older than his master's usual choices. She was most likely married already. Even so, when he had seen her satin skin and those bright hazel eyes, he hadn't questioned his master's decision even for a second. Rather, he himself was curious what sort of beauty hid under her long cloak. Of course, he would never touch his master's woman. He wasn't suicidal, and the dice were already vice enough for him.

"Young miss, you should know that the young master has hand-picked you himself. It is a great honor to be chosen by young master Primu. You should have heard the tales around town as well. Young master does not force anyone. He spends the night with a beautiful woman from his lands, ladens her with treasures and sends her home. Soon, you will be back with your family, and you will live much richer lives than you have ever before. If you really wish, we can turn around right now."

"...this servant will comply with the young master's orders." A small smile crept onto Kizco's face. Most of master's women decided like this in the end. Some worried they would be killed by the wrath of their master, so in the end they all chose to submit. What else could they do, as they were only common folk under the eye of their lord.

Even for him, things weren't different. Whenever he received the cryptic, anonymous letters from the young master's servants, he would rush out and do this sort of work. Now that he knew his young master's secret vice, what else could he do? Even worse, his own vice had turned into a costly endeavor over the years. The extra coin he received with every letter were just enough to cover his cost. At this point, he just hoped the woman would not make any trouble and stay docile until she entered the master's chambers. Then, Kizco could return to his dice as soon as possible. __________________________

Again and again, Primu swung his axe into the trough of sand. Of course he knew that in a real fight, his enemy wouldn't just lie there and let him hack away. Still, it was a good method to build up further strength. Even more, when Primu would stand in front of his first foe, faced with the burden of taking another man's life, his body would be practiced, and deliver a clean swing all on its own. At least that was how he had heard it told.

Done with his training for the day, the young master put the axe to the side. Then he picked up the heavy trough, a feat far beyond ordinary mortals, and poured the sand over his body. As the course grains ran across his skin to peel away impurities and soak up his sweat, young master Primu thought about the man who had taught him how to practice.

Not long ago, his father had seemed invincible to him. Now he was dead. Of course, the men of House Rubria always lived in danger, but his father had died in the capital, as part of some meaningless plot, rather than here, during his duties. What a shame on his house the death had been, what a stain to wash away again.

Still in thought, Primu walked to the little spring in the corner of his training area and began to wash off the sand stuck to his body.

Even now, the members of House Rubria had no concrete proof who his father's murderer had been. Although there had been rumors, they had been conflicting. Though of course, the ally and nominal ruler of their house, the young King Amautu, was the prime suspect. After all, the sly King Amautu had never liked his father all that much. Unlike the Chutwa-influenced lords of the west, House Rubria had always been more traditional in their ways. Only their geographical position had forced them into Amautu's camp during the war for succession. Trapped between the Sallqata mountains in the east, the Deep Sea in the west, barbarian tribes in the north and Amautu's allies in the south, they couldn't pick their allegiance. In the end, the alliance had cost his father's life, one way or another.

After his servants dried off Primu and returned his cleaned and polished axe, he made his way back into the castle. Under the light of the evening sun, the young master considered their current dilemma. Now bound to a king who did neither like nor trust them, House Rubria was pushed to the fringes. Even though their contributions to the safety of the north were immeasurable, their advantage from the new trade with the foreigners would be minor. If recent rumors were true, King Amautu also intended to cut the support they received from the other lords for their stalwart defense.

Even so, they had an ancient duty to defend the noble lands of Medala from the barbarian tribes in the north. Those unwashed hordes would flood south every winter, to raid the villages around Yakuharra and plunder food, treasure and women alike. For centuries, only House Rubria had stood against the hordes, and thus this burden had become his to carry. After his father's death, he further intensified his training, despite his youth. Who else but him would defend the north from the outsiders?

Again he looked up, and found himself in a dark corridor. A tiny sigh escaped his lips, but in panic, he looked over his shoulders right away. At least there were no servants around to see his weakness. Still, he felt like his sigh had been well-justified. Lost in thought, he had taken a peculiar path to his private quarters. This dim corridor, far off the main house, was the route he would only take when he wanted to avoid his mother's eyes. Most of the time, he and the current head of House Rubria got along fine, but when it came to the young master's past time, she didn't understand any fun.

Of course he knew that as a woman herself, mother would dislike his philandering ways. Even worse, he had a preference for young and pretty commoner girls. In their drab and dangerous lands, it was the only real enjoyment he ever had. However, even this had been taken from him. How could he play around with girls if his exhaustion matched the mountain giants after every day of training? Maybe once he had matured into a man, Primu could find the time to enjoy life again.

Exhausted in both body and spirit, the young master entered his room at last. Without a care, he threw his axe into the corner, next to its usual stand, and forced his way to the bed, where he fell face-down. At first, the warm and soft pillows embraced his tired body. However, as he was about to drift off into an uneasy sleep, an irrepressible itch overcame him. Despite his best efforts, tiny kernels of sand had escaped his bath and clung to his body.

Annoyed, the young master turned and sat up, before he froze in shock.

"Good evening, young master Rubria."

By the door stood a strange woman, and greeted him like one of his servants would.

"Who are you!? How dare you sneak in here!" he tried to right his body and grabbed for his axe, but his strained muscles barely moved and he had left his axe in the corner of the room, distant like the sun for a fight. Meanwhile, the robed woman revealed the glint of a short sword in her hand.

With her appearance, no doubt was she an assassin. No doubt would her blade be poisoned. He had read the stories of secret killers, trained by other families to take out their enemies. Even though he was a powerful warrior and she only a weak woman, he wasn't sure of his victory, and he knew he wouldn't escape a cut and suffer the poison.

"Young master, please excuse this servant's impudence, but young master is a difficult man to get hold of. The security measures of the great northern wall of House Rubria is truly impressive. Without young master's convenient vice, this servant might not have had the honor to meet the heir to the great Rubria name." As the woman stepped forward, her face peeled out of the shadows and was covered in the orange glow from the narrow windows.

For his own tastes, she was far too old, maybe in her late thirties. Still, her shallow smile and her bright eyes were calming, almost intoxicating to those who saw her. Most people would consider her a rare beauty. Both her skin and her hair were far too well-maintained to be a commoner. A hint to her identity! This woman hailed from a warrior clan, and thus had been sent here by her master, a Medalan lord.

"Who sent you?" Primu growled, as his hand inched to the knife hidden in the shelve beside the bed. He had keep talking, had to buy some time. "If you wish to take me down, you should have sent more than a meek woman."

"Young master, Please be assured. This servant has no interest in your death. In fact," she made her knife disappear within her robe. "This weapon was only meant as a precautionary measure. How could this servant know young master's reaction to an intruder in his own chamber? Even so, the meeting had to be arranged, despite the risks. After all, young master's mother is far too conservative in her ways."

"Do you wish to insult my mother?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Far from it. Any mother is worthy of admiration, even more so in times of adversity." For a second, Primu felt like he could see behind the woman's perfect smile, but the moment went before he could catch more than a glimpse. "For our purposes, young master is the one to speak to. If this servant may be allowed a question: What does young master think of King Amautu?"

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

*Almost there,* Primu thought, as he pulled up his body even more. In the process, he kicked up his bedding in a natural motion, to cover the shelf. Now he could reach for his weapon without notice from the assassin. With a knife of his own, it would be a fair fight.

*Keep her talking.*

"Amautu? That traitor who killed my father for his petty political games? Is that who has sent you?"

As Primu closed his hand around the soft leather of the dagger's hilt, the woman's smile turned wider.

"In that case, it appears as if we can work together well. Young master Rubria, it might be a bit late, but please allow this servant the honor of an introduction."

The woman hinted at a bow. At the same time, Primu realized that ever since he had opened the shelf, hers eyes had never left his arm and her hand had once again disappeared into her cloak. No matter who she was, she never let her guard down.

"This servant's name is Antaya di Pluritac, temporary master of King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac's ghost warrior squadron. This servant's husband, Great General Atoc, and young master's father have been battle companions in the past. Now this woman has come to his heir, on order of King Corcopaca, to strike another alliance, deal a blow to King Amautu and offer young master a way out of his dilemma."

For a moment the silent standoff continued, but the young master's grip eased far simpler than he had thought. Without a sound, the dagger disappeared into the shelf again.

"I am listening. You better make it worth my while."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

156 Travelers

They had already known that the forest would be the most dangerous part of their journey. However, the fake bandits still stopped them much sooner than they had expected.

"Halt!"

One of them marched ahead, supposedly their leader. Unlike what one would expect from a merchant, his posture was straight and his gait was filled with power. Even his equipment looked shiny and new. Though of course, the leader looked far less exceptional among his men of equal dress. With their subdued colors, the 'robbers' had blended into the treeline all this time, but as soon as the plains behind the group of pilgrims had been covered by trees, the bandits had revealed themselves. Not even the border river to Lord Nasica's territory was in sight yet. This was brazen, a true lock down.

"What do you want?" One of the men in their group pushed up his green hood and looked at the fake bandits with a frown.

"What do you think we want? It's your money, your money," the bandit leader grinned in response. Of course, they knew that this was a lie as much as anyone.

Still with a frown, but without fear, the pilgrim looked over his group of travel companions, all hidden under their green robes.

"You would dare rob faithful on a pilgrimage?" he asked at last, his voice terse and with the hint of threat within.

"You are 'faithful', are you?" the bandit leader sneered. "Check them!" he said, and the other bandits began to walk up to the group. Each held up several portrait drawings, their purpose obvious. Not something to be expected from real bandits.

"We have been on the road for days, in hopes we might see the Caverns of Waterstone within the great lands of Lord Nasica. Only there might we be able to cure my aunt's ailments." The pilgrim looked over to one of the figures in the group, a smaller stature who was hunched over, almost folded into itself. With no regard for the pilgrims, the lead robber marched over and pulled down the robe of the hunched figure. Reveled beneath was an old woman, her arms twisted in unnatural directions and her spine distorted, a dull look of agony on her face. As the bandit touched her arms, she groaned in pain and tears pooled in the crow's feet around her eyes. She still held herself back, out of fear for the gangster's retaliation.

"Hmm... we can't let you through." Although the bandit couldn't find a problem with the pilgrims, his face still hardened and his teeth clenched.

"What does this mean? Does a robber now dare stop pilgrims on their divine journey? Wait until the good lord Nasica hears from this, you heathen!"

"Who will know if you just disappear in these woods?" the bandit said, but failed to hide the slight hesitation in his speech. With narrowed eyes, the pilgrim pounced on the presented weakness.

"You believe Lord Nasica does not know what happens right across his borders? I've served a scout in the past, I know how they do their work. Are you sure you wish to detain us?"

This wasn't an empty threat, and everyone within the small woods knew it. For now, the 'bandits' still operated outside of Nasica's lands. Thus, they were safe from the lord's warriors. However, if they began to detain pilgrims, Lord Nasica would have sufficient reason to invade another lord's lands. After all, the pilgrims provided a good portion of his territory's income. Even worse, some other lords might become annoyed by the actions of the 'bandits' and their secret master.

"Who would!?" the bandit barked back, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Anything?" he asked his fake warrior friends who still went through the crowd and their supplies.

"This one's a real beauty," one of them shouted back.

"Is she on the drawings then?"

"No luck. None of them are. Their story could be real."

"Who would believe that?" the bandit leader grumbled under his breath. After a while, he composed himself and turned back to the pilgrim. "You can leave, but all your goods stay with us. You can't blame us for being robbers, can you?"

"But what about our offerings?" The pilgrim got loud, his eyes desperate. "How will we give offers the great seer without any wealth? Who will help my aunt?"

"The kingdoms are at war, times are harsh." the bandit sneered, his arrogant attitude returned. "You should have considered this before you traveled here, right through the forest. You should have known better, really. Boys, take their stuff!"

Minutes later, the bandits disappeared behind the trees again. Robbed of everything but the clothes on their backs, the pilgrims continued their journey. However, a long time later, once they had long entered Lord Nasica's territory and saw the walls of the capital in the distance, these travelers changed their stances, as if they were different people. Quite unlike humble pilgrims, they straightened their backs and lengthened their strides. Even the old woman plagued with arthritis walked straight as an arrow, as she rocked her stiff back to and fro.

"That was close," the leader spoke.

"But also as we expected. Not even King Pacha would dare detain pilgrims, not yet. If he did, he would make all religious lords of the center his sworn enemies. Since he already has so many foes all around him, even he cannot afford any more." Tama smiled as she brushed the hood out of her face.

"But we have lost all of our materials. How will we free our people?"

"What materials? All of those supplies were cheap decoys for Pacha's false bandits to find. None of it really mattered." A sly smirk on her face, she looked at the rest of their group, especially the still hunched figures in the back. Unlike her ghost warriors, those people had truly been intimidated by the bandits. "Anything we need, we have with us already."

With a determined look on her face, Tama looked east, to the walls in the distance. Somewhere beyond, her brother Fadelio would be awaiting his rescue.

__________________________

All around, the city bustled with activity. Betucio still remembered the last time he had come to Porcero. On the day King Corco, then crown prince, had been sent into exile, the governors had met here to pay their respects to the young prince, or rather to show their deference to his father. Back then, the town had been run-down, aptly symbolized by the rotten, dark brown and green planks of its harbor. In stark contrast, in his sight workers rushed all around the harbor to replace the old planks with clean new stones. Even beyond the workers, the streets had become a bustle of activity. Although he had brought a local guide from Lord Saliena, Betucio soon realized that he wouldn't need one. If he wanted to find the goal of his journey, all he had to do was follow the river of people.

After he had followed the human stream for a while, the governor found himself in front of a large shop. Impossible windows of impossible clear glass opened the view on the diverse and tempting wares on offer. Despite the fragile border, no one around had the courage to pick up a stone and make them his. The two foreign warriors in front of the entrance were not the only reason for their hesitation.

No, Betucio could hear a far more concerning cause all around him. On his march through the streets, he could pick up conversations here and there, all in infinite praise of the 'Wonders of the East' and its mysterious owner, the ever-charming foreigner with the tongue of silver. Why would these commoners even consider stealing from this shop when it had such a good reputation with the locals? Still, Betucio assumed that the good stead of the establishment protected it no more than the soldiers in its front... or the half a dozen additional foreign faces who dotted the street and observed the storefront.

As he was guided past the warriors, they eyed him with suspicion, a great shame for such a famous lord as himself. However, he chose to ignore their lack of propriety. After all, he was a guest in their house, and he was the one who had come with a request. As soon as he stepped through the gate, he was no longer on King Amautu's lands. Instead, he had entered King Corco's domain. Here, his word was worth no more than that of a commoner; especially a talented one, if the rumors were to be believed. With a soft chime, his presence was announced to the packed room.

"Welcome, guest!" Through the masses of people and shelves of displayed wares, a young foreign man greeted him in impeccable Yakua and offered a polite bow. "This servant's name is Alyn. What is it master desires? This servant will fulfill all to the best of his abilities." Once he looked back up, and before Betucio could answer, the servant looked over to the governor's guide. "Oh, Official Taquais. What great joy that you have brought us new business like this. How can the Wonders of the East repay you?" compared to his attitude towards Betucio, the servant's smile was a good few shades warmer.

"Ah, excuse me, Alyn." An embarrassed Taquais waved away the closeness of their host. "We are not here to do business. Rather, you should have received a message in advance about our arrival. This is Lord Betucio, Governor of the North." As Betucio was introduced, the commoner servant's eyes first turned large, before he showed another bow.

"This commoner apologizes from the depths of his heart," he said, though there was no panic in his voice.

"It's fine. There are many issues to discuss with the king's representative. This lord assumes it is fine to step through and into the back?"

Despite his evident mistake, the young merchant soon recovered his composure. After a long, hard look at the banner on Betucio's robe, he bowed again, with the same polite attitude as before. Betucio felt no servility in his actions, no respect for his noble caste.

*Another annoyance to ignore.*

"Of course, Governor Betucio. This way please."

Once they had passed all the idiots so willing to give up their wealth for a few days of luxury, Betucio passed through a small door hidden behind the shelves. Another foreigner stood guard in its front, but let them through when he saw them be guided by Alyn.

Although Betucio had reached the outside again, the high walls around the shop's courtyard still cast shadows over him. Maybe only at midday would there be any light shining down into this place. When he looked around, he could see nothing, not even the elevated Ceros Castle in the distance.

*t appears Official Brym is worried about spies.*

His ideas were reinforced when he saw another two warriors stand guard across the yard. Again without words, the group of three crossed the empty space.

*Nowhere for a spy to hide.*

At the last hurdle, they were forced to wait. With a "One moment please, Governor Betutcio," the merchant walked up to the guards and whispered Betucio's purpose and title into their ears. No matter their secrecy, how could they hide from the senses of a true cultivator? One of them nodded and made his way into the windowless, closed-off building to inform their master. Meanwhile, the servant turned around with another shallow, polite smile.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"Lord Betucio, you will soon be called into the room. Until then, this servant beseeches you to remain here. Although it might be considered an inconvenience, recent developments have forced us to tighten our security measures. Official Taquais, you unfortunately do not have an invitation, so you will have to follow me back into the main hall. Please let me offer you our fine tea as an apology."

After he had watched the servants leave the yard in good spirits, Betucio focused his attention on the remaining warrior. Even though he offered the commoner the gift of a nod, he received no answer. The man only stared at him, focused on Betucio's movements.

Did they believe a single warrior could guard a grand cultivator like himself? Still, Betucio wouldn't act on anything, not now. For one, he had no interest in confrontation with King Corco's men. He was here to strike a deal, not steal the secrets of brandy production. Even more, all of this felt like a trap, nothing else.

After all the guards he had seen on his way here, the governor would be foolish to believe this one warrior was all the security Brym could spare on his central circle. Thus, Betucio remained patient and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Soon, his meeting with Brym would begin. If he handled them poorly, the north could be dragged into a war just like the south had. At least he could hope for some good tea.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

157 Weather

Before Betucio could act on his impulses and try out the guard's skill, the second guard returned and called him into the back room. As he entered, the governor was hit by a wall of heavy air. With no windows, a hot and damp atmosphere had built up inside the shack. Even though the room was almost empty, it didn't help much.

Only a single desk stood at its center, far away from any walls and surrounded by doors. The desk of heavy dark wood was laden with papers and bamboo scrolls, and surrounded by oil lamps, which illuminated the entire space in a sickly yellow light. Finally, behind the table sat the young foreigner Betucio had come to know as a polite and modest man: Brymstock di Pluritac, Official under the King of the South. As soon as Betucio had opened the door, Brym put aside the paper in his hand and stood to come towards his guest.

"Governor Betucio, what a great honor it is to host you in this official's humble abode." As expected of the servant, he showed flawless etiquette in his greeting, despite their previous friendly contacts.

"This lord is just as honored to receive Official Brym's invitation. It appears as if Official does not receive many guests these days," he said as he looked around the windowless room.

"Well, at the moment we are essentially behind enemy borders, and this room holds many things our foes covet. We have to be careful if we don't want to be eaten alive. But enough about my petty complaints. Sit, sit."

Eyebrows raised, Betucio followed the invitation took a seat in front of the desk. Only then did Brym return to his own place opposite the governor.

"What does official mean by 'enemy'?" Betucio showed a frown, exaggerated to make sure his opposite could see it through the deep shadows of the lamps. "Throughout the year, the northern and southern kingdoms have worked as allies on a number of issues after all. This lord does not believe King Amautu has ever considered King Corco an enemy."

"Not even during the succession war?" Brym leaned forward, which hid his wry smile within the uneven shadows all around them. Considering what Betucio knew of him, the merchant had no doubt arranged the lamps like this on purpose.

"I think we can talk openly here, right?" the merchant leaned back again. "Of course the kings will be enemies, or at least opponents. There's no denying that the Triumvirate can only ever be a temporary solution. Yes, we have worked together a few times, but you have also cooperated with King Pachacutec. Calling us 'allies' is an insult to both our intelligence. Still, I did not call King Amautu an enemy. No, my enemy is in this very territory, the new arrivals from Arcavia."

"You speak of this peculiar Duke Herak." Betucio had heard rumors that the relationship between Corco's foreigners and the duke were tense, but didn't know any details. When he had visited Lord Saliena's castle earlier, he had also been introduced to Herak. With the duke's strong attitude, Betucio was not surprised he would clash with the headstrong King Corco. At the same time, the governor thought back to the foreigner soldiers he had spotted around the shop. Maybe they were not the king's men after all.

"Well, that's pretty obvious, isn't it? Let's just say King Corco's men and the duke have not had the best interactions during our time in Arcavia."

For a moment Betucio thought on whether or not he should take the bait and talk about the true reason for his visit. Although he felt like Brym had strung him along all the way to here, he had to talk about this matter anyways. In addition, he the stuffy air pressed heavy on his chest, as if he sat under water. Any way to reduce his time in this prison wold be welcome.

"That would be why King Corco has used his connections to create trouble for the northern kingdom, correct? The king is upset that King Amautu has worked with the foreigners who are your sworn enemies and wish us to break that cooperation, is that it?"

To Betucio's surprise, Brym's business smile widened the smallest bit before he shook his head.

"No, King Corco is not upset about anything, he is not that petty. You are very much within your right to trade with whomever you want; it has nothing to do with us. What sort of trouble can we create in the first place? Look around you, we have almost no men and sit here in our own sweat, trapped in like rats."

Even though he said so, Betucio could see no sweat on the official's brow. Maybe he had gotten used to the heat after years of exposure.

"Please, I believe we can speak openly here, no?" Betucio grinned as he threw back the official's words. "Ever since Official Brym has locked down his shop in Porcero, some of the eastern lords have shown unruly behavior."

"Oh, what happened?" Brym leaned back to listen, though his flat tone showed that he knew very well.

"Some have insisted to not pay their taxes, citing a poor harvest."

"Well, the weather has been dreadful this summer. Believe me, I know better than most." Brym looked around his steam chamber before he winked at the lord. The lord was unimpressed.

"Others have insisted that they will not supply the foreigners with grain or other materials. Especially the traditionalist faction has decided that they would not cooperate with anyone within the northern kingdom so long as they continue to treat nonbelievers as equals."

"That sounds like a serious problem." With a serious face, the official nodded his head. "It is understandable though. Those traditional forces have been used to one way of life for centuries. You can't thrust a new one in their faces and expect them to be reasonable."

Again, Brym's impudent tone would not goad the governor into an overreaction. Calm as before, he continued down the list of complaints.

"Other lords still have started trouble with their neighbors. All of those imminent military confrontations are with territories through which King Amautu plans to route his new trade road between east and west."

"Well, we all know how the lord are," Brym sighed and shook his head as if he spoke about the inevitability of death. "If they have some personal disagreement for whatever petty reason, those lords would never care about the king's opinion, would they? Even worse, according to Medala law, there is little the King can do to punish these lords, not without a civil war."

Again silence was cast over the two. Betucio needed time to think, but the heat seemed to bind off his lungs. In the end, the best way to resolve these problems was another exchange with the south. A sigh showed the governor's capitulation.

"King Amautu understands that King Corco feels threatened by the presence of the foreigners in Porcero, and by their closeness to Lord Saliena."

"Oh, is that so? I'm glad the king cares. Simple understanding does not help us much though."

When Betucio pulled the prepared scroll from his sleeve, Brym's face lit up right away.

"This here is an official document from King Amautu's court, stamped with the king's own seal. It guarantees all personal rights of Official Brym and all his servants within Porcero, and guarantees the same protections as those granted to subordinates of the king."

Heavy from the humid atmosphere, the sheepskin sounded like a bang on the desk.

"Oooh, that would be fantastic. Here by the way, take this."

With a smile Brym reached over the desk and gave Betucio a piece of cloth. As soon as the lord touched it his eyes widened. Somehow, this cloth was dry and cool. Grateful, he wiped his brow, while the official continued.

"It seems like the king really cares about the issues of his brother, which gives us all hope for peace. However, Governor Saliena has attempted to confiscate some property King Corco purchased from him a mere year ago."

"In that case, King Amautu will ratify the land deeds and guarantee King Corco's property." Although he hadn't been prepared for Brym's sudden demand, he was confident he could decide this minor issue by himself.

"This official is deeply grateful for Governor Betucio's understanding" All of a sudden, the polite young man had returned, as the air around Betucio seemed to become lighter. "To pay back the favor, this official will talk to the surrounding lords and try to make them understand King Amautu's plight. While King Corco has nothing to do with the horrible events which have plagued the northern kingdom, the southern kingdom is in good stead with some of the lords in the east, especially with the traditional forces. Since some try anything to provoke war, at least the north and south should work together to guarantee peace within the empire."

Betucio raised a brow, surprised by the sudden change in topic.

"Official refers to King Pacha?"

"This official would never dare call a king a warmonger, or a traitor. Still, there is one matter Governor Betucio should be aware of: Back in Arcavia, Duke Herak of Balit was known as a selfish, greedy lord, a man who would shy at nothing to further his goals. In his pursuit of strength and power, he has burned down entire cities. So bad was his reputation that even his allies turned against him. This is advice for King Amautu, straight from his brother: Trust the easterners at your own risk. Give in to their allure and they will take everything, from all of us."

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"I will be sure to relay those words." All issues were discussed, and Betucio was ready to flee from this horrible prison Brym had built for protection. Thus, he bowed, said "I wish you a good day," and left for the door.

"You as well," he heard from behind. For the first time, the merchant sounded tired, maybe closer to his true feelings than anything else he had said during their meeting. "And I wish to see the sun again, feel the cool sea breeze on my skin. Let's hope this war ends soon and stops all our suffering."

__________________________

"I could get used to this." Bright light shone down onto Atau's face, as a cool sea breeze stroked his face. With a deep sigh, he scooched back in his recliner and reached for his drink. This far north, concepts like 'winter' didn't really exist anymore. There was only monsoon or no monsoon. Along the Bronze Coast, monsoons were rare anyways and the ocean cooled the hot region. Thus, the weather was almost always pleasant.

"Why not stay a while longer then? Trade stories? By the state of your ship, you really deserve some calmer times, Captain." When Atau looked over, he found Lady Elenia sat in her own recliner. Unlike him, the middle-aged ruler of Tortureah wasn't slumped, but still graceful as ever.

"That'd be nice, but we're making good progress on the repairs." He looked over to the pier in the distance, where the Homeward bobbed with the waves. All over, the ship was covered in his sailors. Ever since they had reached the harbor of Tortureah, his men had been hard at work to make their flagship seaworthy again. By now, the rudder was mostly repaired.

"How much longer?" the lady asked in a calm voice, though she failed to look at her guest.

"Maybe a day or two, then we have to make our way back south. Though we do appreciate the hospitality. I'll be sure to repay the favor soon."

"No need," Elenia waved off. "Though despite your words, it appears we will not meet again in a long time. The distance to Arcavia is just too far." At last she turned to look at Atau, her decision made. "You could work for me, you know? Rather than for those barbarian merchants who send you all across the world. It would also free you from the constant persecution of the Borna fleet."

"Wait, didn't I tell you?" Atau turned as well, annoyed at his own tardiness. How could he tell all those heroic tales of the great Captain, but fail to mention his new status all these days?

"Is there something you need to tell me, captain?"

"I'm no longer employed by the Fastgrade merchants." Atau decided to leave out some details which would only create friction between them. After all, the lady had always looked down on the Arcavians. "I'm working for the Kingdom of the South now."

"...and where is this Kingdom of the South?" she asked after she had tried and failed to remember the position of the new kingdom.

"South, mostly," Atau grinned and took another swig of his drink.

"South..." Elania mused. There were not many options south of the bronze coast, so she soon understood. "Wait, do you mean Medala?"

"That's the one."

"I thought you were exiled? Medala was even closed off to outsiders. Do they even have a fleet in the Weltalic Sea?"

"Well, things have changed a bit recently. Basically, the Arcavians are allowed to trade with Medala now, which is split into three kingdoms. Still, since I know the King of the South pretty well, I'm sure we can make an exception for you too, get you a trade deal. How's that sound for repaying my debt?"

"Tortureah is deeply grateful to the captain." Although her speech was proper, there was a mischievous twinkle in Elania's eyes. "Still," A sudden sadness spread all over the lady's face, like clouds shoved in front of the sun. Even so, Atau wouldn't be fooled by a woman's tricks. "A few trade goods will hardly help us in our battle against the northern barbarians."

"To you, everyone is a barbarian, huh?"

"Only the uncivilized," her smile returned, though her eyes still seemed worried. Rather than joke with the ruler of Tortureah, Atau decided to get some more information.

"Have the Riders been stirring again?" For the people of the bronze coast, the greatest threat had always been the strange tribes in the north, who rode into battle on bizarre beasts and would annihilate any town that wasn't defended by walls and armed to the teeth. From time to time, the Riders would double their efforts to kill and plunder. Maybe for the Bronze Coast, this was their monsoon.

"These are our troubles to solve," Elania continued, though she glanced over to the captain. "So we do not wish to impose on the southern kingdom."

Atau sneered. How could he not understand this woman's plans? Still, striking a deal with benefits for both would only strengthen their relationship.

"In that case, how about this: I'll ask the King of the South for support. We can trade you weapons, maybe even mercenaries. We have some weapons designed specifically for defensive battles. Perfect to deal with the Riders. In return, I'd love to get some credit with you, so we can buy some supplies early."

"You would do that?" the lady asked in an innocent voice, as if this wasn't the kind of answer she had pushed him towards.

"Of course. Who sits before you? It is no one but Atau di Pluritac, greatest navigator in the eastern world."

"Who had his flagship destroyed," Elania quipped.

In response, clouds gathered on Atau's face as well.

"On that front, the final word hasn't been spoken yet. Just wait, I'll be back in action soon. Then we'll see who is in charge of the Weltalic Sea."

At this point, he wasn't talking to Elania anymore, and the sunshine of the Bronze Coast had been forgotten. Once he made his way back to Laqhis, they'd start their counter attack right away. Those Bornish wouldn't know what hit them.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

158 Reunions

As soon as he saw the town of Hueatlan on the shore, Corco knew that even here, the old adage of this world held true: Wherever he had gone, there had been a rich west and a poor east.

Although the region of Xallisco, land of the great Lord Huemac, sat within the tropics and right along the water, Corco couldn't see a single tree. Maybe it was the distant mountains in the north, or the westerly winds which blew across the endless land of Chutwa, but the town of Hueatlan was surrounded by dried, cracked mud, interrupted by hardy shrubs. In between all this misery, the town itself consisted of short-stacked houses. Since they were build form the same kind of mud, they blended into the environment, yet were still an impressive reminder of humanity's resilience.

As familiar as the Verdant Isles had seemed to Corco, as strange was Chutwa. Not only did the town lack a proper wall, its stone and mud houses, as well as its trapezoid doors and its strangely flowing arcs made Corco aware of the distance to his home. Although the Chutwa were somewhat similar to the Yaku in terms of skin color and appearance, the local stares greeted him as soon as he stepped off the ship. Maybe it was the unknown flag he flew, or maybe its incredible, vibrant purple. Though Corco assumed that their interest was more down to all the silver and silk he had loaded his body with. For the first meeting with his new brother-in-law, Corco had done his best to look presentable.

Meanwhile, his debonair companion was much more casual about their visit.

"So, where's the grand reception?" Prince Wacoca asked, still dressed in his usual sleeveless vest.

"This feels familiar, huh?" Corco mumbled as he looked over the dilapidated port town. Sleepy and quaint, or maybe derelict and deserted, he found himself in a similar position to the last time he had set foot on a continent. Wasn't this town just the same as his arrival in Porcero? He really hoped they wouldn't have to threaten their way to a resolution this time. Although he wouldn't mind forcing the hand of the locals, they didn't have enough men for any big plays.

"This must be young master Corco." As he thought on their chances to deal with the local militia, he heard a familiar voice. Although he had only spoken with him once back in the capital, servant Mazatl 's unique arrogance had made him easy to remember. As he watched the servant of the local lord walk towards him with another five servants in tow, the king faked a smile.

"Mazatl, what joy to meet again so soon!" he lied. Meanwhile, he could feel Wacoca lean in close.

"So that provincial lord sends his servant to meet you and doesn't even call you king?" the verdant prince whispered.

"Shhh," Corco silenced his overhonest companion. "It's Chutwa." As if that was all the answer needed to explain his actions, Corco marched forward and received the servant with a hug in typical Chutwa fashion. Of course, the Chutwa weren't an especially warm people. Rather, they would hug servants so as to facilitate bribes. Although Corco had never been to the 'sophisticated' Empire to the west, he had been taught Chutwa practices in his youth, and so he knew to slip the greedy servant a few sheets of silver during their embrace.

After they had separated, Mazatl felt for the cold metal in his pocket. Even then, he glanced down to see the shine of the material, before he graced the king with a calm nod, as if it was natural.

"Please follow this way. Chatra Huemac houses his concubines outside of town, upon the northern hills."

After Corco looked over his shoulder and jerked his head forward, his men followed, each of their hands full with a large, wooden chest. Rather than the guns and cannons he had used on Saliena back in Porcero, these treasures would be the weapons Corco would use to achieve his goals here. All he needed to do was meet up with his new brother-in-law and let his wealth do the talking.

As he looked around, he became more and more aware that Lord Huemac could use his silver. Although the streets were filled with Chutwa scholars locked in games on with books in their hands, their usual, clean white robes looked filthy brown instead. Many had holes, but only some had been patched up. Not even the brothel they marched past made any special attempt to appeal to patrons.

Worst of all were several groups of robed figures. In groups of three and four, they swaggered through the town as if they owned the place. Indeed, when one of them crossed their path, Mazatl made way as if it was natural.

"Wait, what did you mean by 'concubines'? Where are we going?" At last, Corco realized what his guide's earlier words meant. When he looked over to the man besides him, he saw the servant's familiar sneer again.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"Of course, young master will be brought to his sister. Young master did not believe his visit would warrant attention from Lord Huemac, did he?"

"Of course not," Corco smiled, and put another counter on his mental list. "Although I have to say that I rule my own land now, so calling me young master seems inappropriate, doesn't it?"

"Of course, Master Corco." As a servant, Mazatl should have been well aware of the rudeness of this address, putting a king on the same level as a master craftsman. Again Corco swallowed the insult. Again, he vowed not to forget it, as silence fell over their group.

-----------------------------

"So in the end, father's empire was split up." Though they hadn't seen each other for an entire, eventful year, Corco's sister hadn't changed at all. After her marriage and her long time in Chutwa, she still wore the same expensive silks with the same grace that was so uncharacteristic for a woman her size.

"Yeah, things are messy for now. I aim to fix that though. Just give me a bit more time." Corco leaned back in one of those ankle-high stools the Chutwa seemed to like so much. At least the pillow was decent.

"But why would you make the long trip here when there are so many troubles at home already? Why make this dangerous trip, as a king no less? What if something happens to you, brother?"

"Well, I would have sent someone else, but who could have come here? Most of my close aides are busy with their own matters, so my options were limited. Plus, looked at the way they treat me already, and I'm a king. Do you think your husband would have let any other man even meet with his beautiful bride?" Corco winked, but Yasimi's face remained a mask. For a while they sat in silence while they sipped their tea. Yasimi had said it was a rare blend from the mountains of Enyana, though Corco really couldn't tell what that meant. No matter where it came from, the drink wasn't bad. Even if their cultish scholars were as dangerous as their desire to dominate their neighbors, the Chutwa knew how to brew one hell of a tea.

"I do not believe Chatra Huemac is very interested in someone like me," Yasimi broke through the quiet. Although her face was still stiff, her eyes were cast down, into the tea cup between her hands.

"He's not? That's a surprise. Weren't you courted by most young masters in Medala? I've heard the stories," Corco teased. Of course he himself could never share the Medalan sense of aesthetics when it came to women, but still, back when her name had still been Prima, Yasimi must have been very popular in the capital.

"Unlike me, most noble women in Chutwa are rather frail. I believe the cause lies with the dominance of the scholars in Chutwa. Rather than a strong heir, the Chutwa nobles hope for a smart heir. Thus, most young ladies set themselves apart with a good grasp of language and the arts."

"But you're good with language as well, aren't you? After all, you leaned Chutwa well enough, right?"

"Indeed. Otherwise, Chatra Huemac would have never deigned to marry me, not even as a mere concubine. All the silver in Arguna would not have changed that had I been found lacking."

"So you don't see your husband a lot then?" he asked a question he was very interested in. How could he establish trade relations if he never met the local lord?

"You have seen my abode yourself, have you not, brother?"

When Corco had been led through the local town, he had already noticed how much more closed off the Chutwa buildings were compared to the open style in Medala. However, even among Chutwa buildings, Yasimi's mansion seemed especially dark. Of course, the very rigid, geometrical style of the Chutwa didn't help any with the interior design, and neither did the old, worn down furniture and the servant girl with the limp who had led Corco here.

"So what do you do all day then?" he asked.

"Well, if nothing else, at least I have found some purpose here, something I would have been denied back in Medala. In fact, Queen Mother has given me some silver as part of my dowry, enough to make sure I would matter to my new husband. Though of course her thoughts were only on Pacha, this capital has been of great help nonetheless. Since my arrival, I have been put in charge of two local shops of the Huemac clan within Hueatlan city. Presumably, Chatra Huemac believes that even if his new concubine makes a mistake in the management, she will be able to pay back her debt from her own dowry."

"Wait... 'Queen Mother'?" Corco asked.

"Well, since none of Lady Ichilia's sons have become emperor, calling her the empress mother appears... unseemly." It was at this moment Yasimi's mask broke and revealed a sly smile. For a while they sipped their tea again, but the atmosphere felt far less oppressive.

"...so how are the shops going?" the brother asked at last.

"Progress on their income has been satisfactory so far." Yasimi smiled a shallow smile. With her understated nature, 'satisfactory' would mean her work had been a great success. At last, Corco made the connection to his gift, that he might in fact be involved in her success.

"Have you read the book?" he asked in reference to the pieces of knowledge he had written down for Yasimi as a marriage present.

"'On the Nature of Economics'." She nodded. "It is a title most fitting for such a fundamental work."

After he had looked over his shoulder, Corco leaned forward and whispered. Not everyone here needed to hear everything he had to offer.

"Where is it?"

"Not to worry, brother." She waved off his concerns as her smile grew warmer. "I burned it. No one has read it but me, and the only place where it remains is in here." Yasimi's short fingers tapped on her temple. In response, Corco leaned back and rubbed his hands together. This trip might turn out to be even more of a success than he had thought.

"In that case, winning over your husband should be easy. What do you think about turning this town into the major trading hub of the Verduic Sea?"

"That seems an unlikely goal, even with all the advanced knowledge you have taught me. Here, along the Verduic coast, we see very little trade. All the Chutwa tributaries do their business further north. Meanwhile, the great Chutwa cities are mostly in the west, far away from us. The last great city lies many days south from here. Truly, we are in the middle of nowhere."

"But you're still right along the fertile Verduic sea." Corco added. How could a city along such a rich sea be this poor?

"...which makes us susceptible to pirates, nothing more." Yasimi corrected her brother's mistake. "There are many problems other my husband has to deal with before he can even consider something as fanciful as economic development. Under these circumstances, it appears unlikely we will be able to turn Hueatlan into a trading hub."

"You say that now, but wait until you see the presents I brought along."

Corco grinned, and opened the box he had brought in with him. Although his men had been forced to stay outside the home of Lord Huemac's concubine, they had put together a sample of all the treasures from the east for Yasimi and her husband to enjoy. Scented soap and perfumes, lighters, crystal glass and mirrors, and of course their purple dye.

"What is all this?" Yasimi asked in a breathless voice. For the first time since their reunion, she didn't seem in full control of her emotions. With large eyes and the curiosity of a child, the teenage girl picked up one rare treasure after another to inspect them. At last, she looked back up and stared at Corco in wonder. "Brother, you have not been lazy in the past year."

"You think this might be enough to convince your husband to focus a bit on trade? I just need a single meeting to convince him."

"This would be enough to change the power structure of the entire Chutwa east coast." For a moment, Yasimi's jaw clenched as she frowned at the tea in her hand. Her decision made, she looked back to her brother. "In four days, I will meet husband during the great family dinner held every twenty-seven days. At that time, I will be able to speak to him and make a few suggestions. Until then, you can stay in the city and look around a bit. Do try to restrain your curiosity though and stay out of danger."

"Hey, when have I ever done something dangerous?" Corco's open arms were greeted by Yasimi's suspicious stare. Confronted with his serious sister, the king was forced to lower his hands again. "Fine, I'll try to hold back. I do have important business though, so I'll be moving around a bit. Recruiting talents and such."

As Yasimi nodded, she looked at the treasures in the wooden box again. No longer were her eyes filled with wonder. Instead, another frown had spread across her face. "By the way, brother: How many people know of your plans?"

*Always thinking ahead.*

"No one outside of Medala should know about this. Even Prince Wacoca only knows that I came to Chutwa to visit my sister, and to give my cousin Mayu some space to court the Verdant Princess."

As soon as she heard of courtship, Yasimi's eyes turned into stars.

"Oh, I smell a juicy story. Please tell me more." She leaned forward.

"With pleasure."

And thus, brother and sister wasted a few more hours with gossip, before each went back to change the world.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

159 Turning Winds

"I would prefer if we did not have to wear these," Wacoca said, as he tugged at his new Chutwa clothes. To the prince who was so used to the freedom of the open sea, the dark robes that covered most of his body must have felt restrictive.

"You don't want to be lynched in the streets, do you?" Corco grinned as he wondered what would happen if the verdant prince walked the streets with the clothes of the pirates who would always raid these shores.

"The people stare at us either way. It appears they have been aware of our identity for a long time." With his neck tugged between his shoulders, Wacoca stole glances around.

"They're staring because you're so fidgety. If they knew who you are, you'd be long dead. Don't forget what my sister told us: Here, the Verdant folk are considered a vicious plague. That's why we're walking around in disguise... well, it's one reason."

All around them, Corco could feel the foreign nature of the Chutwa. Instead of the open style of Medalan houses, everything in Chutwa was more private. The few people they saw on the streets were either hurried workers who carried supplies from one place to another or white-robed scholars, who sauntered through the streets and discussed their scriptures. With their closed-off nature and inherent bias, Corco thought their disguise might open a few of these closed doors for them.

Even though Hueatlan was a port town, Corco found very few fishermen. Though how many could there be, with the coast almost devoid of buildings. Centuries of raids from the sea had made the people in this area careful.

"How is it our fault they cannot protect their own possessions?" Wacoca asked in a tiny voice.

Even as the prince spoke, the two walked past a huddled group of beggars, the only city dwellers who would spend all their days outside.

"...let's just agree to disagree on this one."

After a short stint of uncomfortable silence, Corco tried to steer their conversation in a different direction. He was aided by a small group of people in gaudy, bright orange robes. Although they wore swords, they did not wear the banners of Lord Huemac.

"People of Hueatlan," one of them shouted, "Great Swordsaint Tlaloc asks the greatest doctors of the lands for their assistance! Any successful doctors awaits great honor and wealth!"

"Who are they?" Corco asked, confused at the pompous performance.

"They appear to be a young sect master and his entourage. The Chutwa have a strong sect culture. These sects often possess their own powerful cultivation techniques, so at least here on the edges of the empire, they may even compete with the local rulers."

"Weird how they allow some lawless bandits to rule over them."

"These are the laws of the Chutwa," Wacoca replied with a sour face. "Since the local lords have little authority in the face of the great Central Heart of the capital, many are powerless in front of these organized forces. Even worse, some have been known to be in cahoots with these local sects, to exploit their people and steal the wealth of the capital."

While the prince explained himself to the king in a small voice, the loudmouth of the sect member was still as active as before.

"Not any doctor may try his fortune, oh no! Only the greatest shall be worthy to gain favor from the great sword saint!"

"Looks like they have the same goal as us. Let's try and keep contact to a minimum." While the verdant prince lowered his posture even more, Corco smirked. To him, these sects were a real danger now, but not one he had to deal with. These antiquated structures would be weeded out by time, all on their own. As soon as productivity, rather than manpower, became the decider of wars, the sects would disappear. Thus, he left them to their shouting and looked for his own doctors.

Soon after, Corco and Wacoca found their way to the edge of the town's market, and right away they saw the first object of his desire: On the market's corner stood a tiny stall with a bearded man behind it. In their strange, boxy font, the letters on the banner atop the stall distinguished the man as a doctor, although his appearance would suggest otherwise. Despite his beard, his clothes weren't in the white of the scholars, which meant he probably didn't have the allowance to wear them. Considering the sorry state of his cart, a proper scholarly education seemed unlikely. How could a real scholar ever appear so poor after all?

If only he could recruit some good doctors from the Chutwa Empire, it would solve a lot of his problems. Ever since he had taken over the south, Corco had been trying to invite scholars from all across Medala to join his cause. First among his targets were the doctors, to make sure a tragedy like the death of his uncle Sonco would never happen again.

However, he underestimated the stubbornness of the established order. To the wise men of Medala, Corco's methods were too extreme, an upset to the traditions of the ancestors. Rather than join his new academy in Saniya, most had turned north, to Amautu's lands. If he didn't want to wait years for his new students to graduate, he had to find doctors elsewhere. As stopgaps, the Chutwa doctors would be perfect. After all, they were considered the best physicians in the world. Already, he was excited when he saw the large banner with the Chutwa symbol for 'medicine' drawn on it.

In fact, Corco only became happier when he saw the man's state. Although he carried a beard, it was long and thin, not clean-shaven like the scholars would carry them. Although he wore a long robe, it was a rough and muddy brown, rather than their clean and soft white.

The 'teachings' of the Way taught students how to bend and break language, so as to better indoctrinate people and rulers. What would they know of actual medicine? Corco didn't need a charlatan, he needed the endless generations of accumulated knowledge Chutwa had to offer. As such, someone with no connection to the western cult was much more to his liking.

"Good evening, master," Corco spoke in proper Chutwa. Although a bit rusty, he had refreshed his childhood knowledge a bit with his sister. Still, it seemed like it hadn't been enough, as the man's eyes narrowed in suspicion right away. However, the doctor's business sense overcame his hostility and drove away the frown.

"Welcome, dear guest! What is that ails you? This great Doctor Itzali can heal anything from cough to gout!" A smile formed on his face. Somehow, the man reminded Corco of his first meeting with Ronnie. His first impression reinforced, the king sat on the small stool for patients in front of the man's stall.

"Is that true, you can heal any illness?" Corco asked.

"Of course! As a student of the great master Yolotl, this doctor has been blessed with only the best education. A great physician of the chutwa faith, this doctor has traveled the country far and wide and seen all manner of suffering. Only a man who has seen the dark can speak of the light!"

"The Teachings of the Way," Corco said and just about managed to suppress a frown as he did so. "You didn't look like a scholar."

For a moment the king saw the doctor's own frown return, before he answered in a lowered voice.

"This doctor is not," he said, short-bound. "However, it is a surprise to find a young master from foreign lands understand The Way."

"It was that obvious, was it?" Corco pretended a pained smile. "I thought my accent was good."

"Please excuse this doctor's forward manner, young master. This old master did not wish to uncover any secrets. Years of travel have merely created an excellent judge of character. If young master wishes to keep his identity a secret, he may do as he wishes. For any great doctor, one patient is the same as any other."

In reaction to the man's last words, Corco's eyes lit up. Wasn't this exactly what he had been looking for?

"It's not really much of a secret," he replied. "We are merchants who have traveled here from the northern provinces."

*What an arrogant name to use for their tributaries,* Corco thought. As expected of such a giant country with no natural enemies, the Chutwa had no respect for anyone outside of their 'eternal empire'.

"Oh, then you are foreigners indeed?" the doctor rubbed his hands together. Somehow, Corco felt like a lamb to the slaughter. Maybe this doctor was glad to treat foreigners who wouldn't know the going rates of normal medicine in these parts.

"Now then, what can this great Doctor Itzali do for our foreign guests? What ailment plagues you?"

"I am not sick," Corco said while a smile returned to his face. In response, the doctor's own grin froze.

"Then does this foreign trader wish to waste this master's time?"

"Of course not." the merchant king raised a finger. "I have a proposition for you. One that, should you accept, will pay enough for you to open a proper clinic, rather than a tiny stand."

The doctor harrumphed.

"The honor of the great Chutwa physicians is not for sale." As the great physician spoke, Corco threw a small bag on the table. With the ring of metal, the loose band released a few silver coins onto the table. Many more were still hidden inside. "Although of course, this physician is generous enough to let such an insult slide. If nothing else, at least he will hear you out in your troubles."

While he spoke noble words, Doctor Itzali swiped up the coins in one, swift motion. Corco really didn't care. In fact, greedy people were better. Men were easier to control when he knew their desires.

"Follow me to my homeland and serve me as my house doctor." Corco said at last.

"What would this master want in barbarian lands?" the doctor asked with a sneer on his face. Not even the weight of silver could change his arrogant stance.

"Well, it wouldn't be forever. I only need you for a couple years." Corco spread his hands. "On top of all the money I can pay you, it's also a great chance to improve your craft. Just think: How many medicinal plants and herbs can be found in a different land, how many more illnesses can be discovered and cured? Don't you want to strive for greater knowledge?"

Although the doctor retained his poker face, for a moment, Corco could see his eyes brighten up. Apparently, Itzali really wanted to improve his craft, or at least he wanted the money and fame that would come with greater skill.

"Although it is a tempting offer, what great herbs could possibly be found in the barbarian wastes? After all, Chutwa is the heart of the world. Any treasures found elsewhere can only ever be a dim copy of the great wealth of the ancestral lands."

He had only been talking to a single Chutwa doctor and already, Corco felt frustrated. How could these nationalist idiots be this stubborn? Still, he had felt the spark of curiosity from Itzali. He wouldn't give up just like this.

"There's more!" he tried again in the voice of a telemarketer. "Back in my hometown, we have our own, entirely different methods of medicine. Just by studying them, you will improve beyond your wildest dreams! You can become famous worldwide"

As soon as he finished his words, Corco realized that he had been far too honest. With a red face, the great Doctor Itzali jumped up.

"Who dares insult the honor of the great western Physicians!? Begone, barbarian!"

At this point, the king felt the futility as well. No matter what arguments he would bring, he wouldn't get anywhere with this stubborn fool.

"Fine," he spat out as he stood up, "we don't need your support. There's plenty of doctors in Chutwa, and plenty of great ones to boot. We'll be just fine without you."

__________________________
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"Why does it feel as if we have wasted our time?" Wacoca asked. At first he had been a bit gloaty, but by now his voice only sounded exhausted.

As it turned out, they were not fine without Doctor Itzali. Hours later, they had traveled through the entire town. Although they had found many, many doctors, way more than could be expected for a city the size of Hueatlan, none of them had been any more receptive than their first taker. After a day of hard work, they had nothing more to show than dusty clothes and cramped legs. At this point, they returned the way they had come, only a few coin purses lighter. As they walked across the emptying market, the sun set beneath the houses all around them.

"At least we've learned a thing or two about the local doctors. If we want to win them over, we'll have to come up with some way to overcome their arrogance, or we'll have to get lucky."

Just as Corco cursed his bad luck again, the winds turned. From across the market, they carried a shout, followed by a mix of murmurs and panicked screams.

"King Corco, it would be best we stay away," Wacoca warned, already sure what Corco would do.

"No worries, we're just taking a look," the careless king waved off.

"How dare a common physician looks down on this master!" an unfamiliar voice shouted. It's owner was easy to locate. When he reached the edge of the market, Corco saw that a crowd had formed before them.

As soon as the king marched towards the group, it dispersed, as if they had waited for him. Of course, they weren't so much interested in the unknown king as they were in the tall young man in their middle. Straight and majestic in posture, he swung a silver sword around to drive away the onlookers.

"Meager commoners! Who dares balk at this insult to the great sword saint, derive joy from it!? Who wishes to taste this young master's rare 'Tempest' strike?"

"Well, shit. Isn't that a young master? What the hell is going on?" Corco mumbled. How could there be an honest-to-god young master here? Had he been transported into a xianxia novel somehow?

"Great Swordsaint Tlaloc, please understand. This simple physician has diagnosed your illness to the best of his ability. Please believe in this humble doctor's abilities." To the young master's feet sat Corco's old acquaintance, Doctor Itzali. Somehow, he had managed to piss off the young master and now was now begging for his life with a pale face.

"'Lack of virility'!? Is this what some knave would call an honest diagnosis?" the young master laughed his best fake laugh. It wasn't bad. Definitely worthy of a small-time villain. "How dare you suggest that this hero lacks virile strength? Do you not understand the powers of the Flowing Water cultivation technique?"

"Please, master, spare this mortal. Please, save me!" the doctor pleaded, desperate. Only at this point did Corco notice the blood. At some point before they had arrived, the doctor's robe had been cut through by a clean attack. Now, his blood had begun to pool beneath him, as his robe hung off his body like a wet rag. Young master Tlaloc's beautiful sword dripped a single red drop, to add to the mess on the floor.

"Are you not a famous doctor? Go ahead and heal yourself." With a final sneer, the young master turned and left the market. Although his eyes crossed Corco, the king was far too busy looking over to the doctor and his wounds to get into a fight.

"Will you look at that," he said, an anticipatory smirk on his face. "It seems like our luck just turned."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

160 Antipyretics

"Wait, King Corco. We will not get involved, will we?" Before Corco could get anywhere close the doctor, Wacoca held him back by the shoulder.

"What do you mean, 'not get involved'? This is our chance to win over a genuine Chutwa doctor! You think I'll just let fate pass me by?"

"What do you mean by 'we'? I am in no way involved in this plan. In addition, how is this man suddenly of value? Did he not steal your coin and call you a filthy barbarian?"

"Yeah, he's an asshole, but that doesn't mean he deserves to die," Corco argued with his hands as much as he did with his words. Since the two disguised nobles had gotten louder and louder, they had attracted the attention of the young sword saint.

"Who dares speak to ruin this young master's moment of retribution?" the young master said as he swayed his sword around like a conductor's baton.

While Wacoca froze in the face of the sect members, Corco lowered his head and shoulders to slouch over. Although this one required a lower stance than he was used to, he didn't really mind. After all, the years in exile had made him very used to deception, even in the face of overwhelming, hostile force.

"Great sword saint, please forgive this humble servant," Corco groveled, and made his voice quiver. Even as he heard the young master's steps come closer, he didn't lift his head. "This lowly servant is the student of the Great Doctor Itzali. Please, master did not mean his words, they were a mere misunderstanding! How could a great hero be insulted with such a diagnosis!? Master was mistaken!"

When the steps stopped, Croco could already see the young master's boots in his view, a mere step away from his neck. He was sure the young master's sword already hovered over his head, ready to strike down the useless servant. Even when he was about to kill another man, the young master's voice remained ice cold.

"Please do explain what it was this hero misunderstood. How can such a great physician be mistaken in his diagnosis?"

"Ever since the death of his lover, master has turned into a heavy drinker. Every evening he drinks, and every evening, master no longer knows what he speaks of. This mere commoner implores the great sword saint to overlook this commoner's weakness in the face of tragedy! Please allow this commoner to bring his master away from here and allow him a death deserving of Physician Itzali's illustrious name."

"Get away from me, filth," the young hero shouted, and kicked Corco to the ground. As soon as he felt the tension in the young master's leg increase, his fingers eased around the wood of the pistol hidden within his long sleeves. At least that, the Chutwa sleeves were good for.

"Thank you for your leniency, young master," Corco still trembled, as he mused if the young master knew how close he had come to his death.

"Hmph. Get that drunk out of my sight!" the young master scoffed, as the king picked up the injured doctor and made his way through the streets. At last, the young king's hand left the wheel lock pistol. For now, the young master had been lucky.

__________________________

Several minutes later, Corco found himself and his doctor back in his hotel room. Although he could have stayed as a guest of his sister's, Corco had decided to blend into the city for several reasons. Prime among them was that he didn't want to leave any traces of the agreement he had planned with Huemac. As such, the great King of the South had been forced to take up residence in this shabby little hotel. Normally, the room would not allow any additional guests, much less guests who bled all over the floor, but for now the merchant king had used another his coin purses to great effect. For the low-low price of several silvers, the owners had even thrown in a few extra buckets and firewood to heat up some water. He had to clean out the wound, and fast. Otherwise, he would have risked his life for nothing.

Until the water came to a boil, Corco was busy setting up the rest of his tool. Again he was thankful for the long sleeves of the Chutwa dress code. How else could he transport all this crap? Beyond the needle and thread, he even had a flat little bottle of rubbing alcohol with him. With proper equipment, first aid would be easy enough, even for someone with as little experience as him. Now if only his patient played along as well, everything would be perfect.

"Before you are under any illusions, foreign barbarian: This master will inform you right away that, even if you have helped him in his need, this master will not accept you as his student!"

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

"Keep the pressure on the wound, you moron!" Corco shouted, and slapped the doctor's hand back on the bloodied cloth atop the gaping wound on the great master's chest. Since they had to stem the blood flow, Corco used some extra pressure. The fact that his actions also stemmed the doctor's insufferable whining was a nice added bonus. "You wanna bleed out?"

"What does a barbarian know about medicine?" the doctor hissed between his teeth. "Pick up this doctor's bag! Inside, there should be some Moonwarts! You need to make a paste and put it on the wound! Otherwise, bad Qi will enter and let the blood fester."

Somehow, neither the near-mortal wound nor the pain were enough to shut up the doctor. Annoyed, Corco narrowed his eyes.

"Listen up, buddy: I've stuck my neck out for you back there. I didn't have to step in front of that xianxia young master, but I did anyways. Why? Because I wanted to help you. No, that's bullshit. Honestly, I'd get some decent satisfaction out of seeing you die from your own arrogance. How's that for karmic justice?"

As he talked himself into a rage, Corco went over to the doctor's bloodied bag and searched through the contents. Only at this point did he realize that he could identify none of the strange jars or leaves and twigs. At some point halfway through the contents, the doctor shouted "this is it!"

Confused, the king held up the little jar of leaves. "And what's this supposed to do."

"Properly prepared, it will reduce and prevent swelling around the wound. Quick, there is no time to lose!"

In response to the doctor's words, Corco's eyes brightened. Maybe this great physician was more useful than he had first thought. With renewed vigor, the king returned to his patient and continued his procedure.

"Actually," he said, "I don't really want to help you. I want help from you. You see, back home, we lack good doctors. Even worse, we have no one who can teach medicine, so the number of doctors will never increase, no matter what we do. This insufficiency has cost my uncle his life. That's why I'm here: To recruit a good doctor and make sure something like that never happens again. While you didn't seem that impressive, playing around with some weeds to cure a friggin knife wound, at least you seem to know about antipyretics. That's good. It means you're still useful, despite everything. So how about you consider me saving your life a personal debt and let me do my job in peace?"

For a while there was silence, as Corco cleaned out the wound with the alcohol and the hot towels.

"If I survive this torture, you can do with me as you wish." The doctor's pale face was underlined by his sad smile.

"You think you won't make it," Corco guessed.

"Life and death is never in our own hands. There is always someone bigger, someone to decide our fate. When the end comes, what can we do but submit?"

"That's true, huh?" Corco grinned. Hadn't his entire goal since the start been to defeat fate itself? "Let's see if we can't shake that little adage up a bit. This might sting a little."

Although the doctor still showed a critical look at Corco's actions, he no longer complained. Prick by prick, the needle and thread entered the doctor's flesh and bound it back together. Although the process was slow and would leave a horrible scar, Corco thought it could be a nice reminder for the doctor to heed his own arrogance.

"You say you are a merchant? Are you not a tailor instead?"

"Sure, why not?" Corco replied with a grin. "I've had a bunch of jobs in the past. Why not be a tailor too?" Just as the atmosphere in the room threatened to lighten up, the door was shoved open. When Corco realized who had entered, his hands left the pistol in his sleeve again.

"What in the heavens have you done?" Wacoca shouted as he stormed across the room, towards Corco.

"Done what? I'm working here! We need to save the doctor's life." Corco returned to his work.

"You have offended a saint of the local sect! What could be more important than that!?" the prince shouted again. This was getting annoying.

"So what? If eh comes back, we're just gonna faceslap some young master and then hide in my sister's manor. What's the big deal?"

"Do you understand anything about Chutwa? I told you that the sects are in cahoots with the lords, or worse, more powerful than them!"

"Aren't they just some bandits?" Corco's derisive tone brought even his patient back into the conversation.

"How could the great sectists ever be considered bandits?" Doctor Itzali said. "The flowing water sect has hundreds of inner sect members who have been taught in their ancient secrets of cultivation. Together with the members of the outer sect, the grunt workers, their strength goes beyond even Lord Huemac's forces."

"...okay, I might have underestimated that sect, but we got away clean, right? The young master had this 'I won't bother with this filth' face on, didn't he?"

"See, this is why I have come this late," Wacoca said, still out of breath from panic. "After you left, I stayed behind to take the doctor's stall and make sure the sectist did not plan anything further. And indeed, the great sword saint tasked his own men to guarantee the impudent doctor who insulted his honor does not survive his wounds."

At once, Corco's brain went into overdrive. This situation still seemed workable, but they needed a proper plan this time. No more improvisation.

"...where are they now?"

"The members of the flowing water sect are waiting outside our inn. In fact, they have acquired some chairs since you started your work. They will not go anywhere until they see a corpse."

"How many?"

"What do you plan to do?"

"Nothing, just wanna know their numbers." Corco smiled an innocent smile.

"They are two," the apprehensive Wacoca answered. In response, the king's smile turned into a grin.

"Nice."

"We really should have brought our guards. How could I have ever been so foolish to go along with this ludicrous disguise plan?"

"Well, okay, things aren't looking good. But this is exactly the sort of reason we didn't bring guards. After all, even when we have offended that water sect: How will they trace two northern merchants who don't even exist?"

"Wait, what do you mean, you do not exist?" the doctor asked, his face even more pale.

"Shush, patients don't get a vote."

"I understand." Wacoca nodded, now a bit calmer. "Even so, we need some security. At this point, any travel outside these walls will be dangerous."

"Yeah, we'll have to stay low-key until Yasimi has arranged the meeting with the local lord. Until then, I guess we're stuck together with our new employee." At last he finished the last stitch and began to bind off the thread. When his work was done at last, he looked back over to the patient Wacoca. "You think you can make your way out and back to the harbor without being seen?"

"Do you intend to leave yourself behind?" the young prince asked.

"What? No! That's ridiculous. I'm gonna write you a little letter. I'd appreciate it if you brought this to my servant warriors. It seems like we need to get some pieces moving," Corco smirked. With the time gained during the operation, he had been able to make up a rudimentary plan. If everything went well, they could turn this single chance into a massive windfall. He really loved hitting birds with stones.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

161 Gif

In the distance, the evening sky colored the village in a fiery red, just as the flames within the village walls colored the sky. Puma looked down the tree he had climbed and took a firmer stance on his branch, before he focused his eyes. His eagle-eyes enlarged the image and allowed him to miss no detail of the army's 'procurement'.

The worst of it had happened around the town hall. As the place to store the wheat of the city, it had become the first target for the warriors. Nothing but a burned out ruin now, the smolder of the charcoal pillars revealed the recency of the destruction. However, all people had emptied the place as much as the grain and silver had. While the village's wealth had disappeared into the pockets of the warriors, the people had been strewn all over the alleys of the town. Down in the dirt of the unpaved roads, Puma could hear the desperate screams of women and the last calls of men, as central kingdom's warrior's cackled like hyenas ready to digest a carcass.

All the while, the silvery capes of King Pacha's personal guard marched around and commandeered the beasts. Under their instructions, the chaotic monsters turned into an army of malice. With a frown, Puma observed the groups of refugees who had already left their village behind and now rushed south, towards the capital, where they would find their master and lord. Of course these atrocities had been caused by the warriors who had sworn to protect them, but what other choice did they have but blind trust in their master?

Puma left his outlook and rushed south, always just out of sight of the villagers. In their march, the people were always shadowed by warriors, be they King Pacha's or some other lord's. From time to time, some warriors picked out a few more commoners to relieve their boredom with, infected by the evil around them. Thus, in the process of their penance, the farmers lost more and more of their numbers. Once these people joined the rest of the masses, who would notice a few absentees anyways? Soon they were part of a massive stream of refugees, from villages all over Lord Makipura's lands. By the time Puma had reached the capital, the refugees had turned into hungry, exhausted, terrified piles of misery.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

This was no 'procurement', as King Pacha had called it. This was a slow, methodical deconstruction of Kichiapa. Convinced that he had seen everything he needed, Puma rounded the town and picked up speed. Soon he would reach the Narrows, and the king's action camp.

__________________________

"Another one, is it?" Lord Makipura sighed.

"Yes indeed, master."

Once Puma stood in front of his lord, his scrunched up heart eased only the slightest bit. At least from his master's cramped posture and his sour face, the scout could tell none of the atrocities had been committed in his will.

"Usurper bastard!" Not even his always calm master could retain his mind. With a scream to remind of his younger years, Lord Makipura threw his chair across the tent. Without a word, Puma walked over and picked it back up, while his master's anger broke way. "What 'procurement'? Is this little shit not trying to destroy this lord's entire land? Maybe he believes he could take over once my lord's estate falls apart? He wouldn't even let the people stay in the capital and forced them all down here! Who will work my fields in the spring? Will those puffed up silver knights do it?"

"Master, the walls have ears," Puma said and tapped the tent lining.

"Let them have whatever they want. Ever since he was beaten half to death by his elder brother, that brat hasn't received a good lesson. It shows. In fact," Lord Makipura stood up with an energy the scout hadn't seen from his old lord in at least a decade. "Let's go over right away and teach him one in manners. This cannot go on or my entire lands will be bled dry."

Thus, lord and master marched out of the tent. Through the boisterous masses of warriors from all over the central kingdom, like pigs in a sty. In their inebriation, these fools even failed to greet, no, failed to notice the righteous ruler of the lands they had destroyed with their greed and excess. Like the beasts they were, they rolled around in mud, barely conscious to their lowly actions.

This sort of picture repeated through all parts of the camp, all the way to the central command tent of King Pacha. Although Puma had expected the spoiled king to act in the same way as his uncouth men, he was surprised to find Pacha sit upright in his proper place. Clear eyes ran over a message written on bamboo, held in his one good hand. Meanwhile, the lords close to the king stood at attention, together with the king's silver guards.

"Lord Makipura greets King Pacha," his lord said. While a ruler could afford to only hint at a bow, Puma himself had to show deference. Like a good servant, he had to bow low, to show the king's superiority as a member of a higher class.

"Ah, Lord Makipura. You have come just at the right time," Pacha said, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"The right time for what would that be, this lord wonders? Is it time to finally strike a final blow against this lord's lands?"

At the unexpected insubordination, King Pacha's smile froze. The cold from deep within his soul spread on his face, then throughout the room and finally gripped Puma's heart. When had his master ever been this bold and opposed someone of King Pacha's status?

"Is there something Lord Makipura has to complain about?"

Although he heard his lord swallow, although he could see his hands shake, half-hidden by his long robes, his master still stepped up to confront the unpredictable beast of a hero.

"How could one's ally, one's king, treat this lord's lands like he has? Thousands of servants have been killed, tens of thousands have been displaced. Now they are herded like sheep to this camp, and for what? To starve to death? To be slaughtered as entertainment for the king's men? We cannot feed them here, not after King Pacha's armies have plundered half the food of this lord's land. Does king intend to lose this lord's support?"

Although the lord's words were a bit of an exaggeration, they weren't too far off the truth. Actually, Kichiapa was an exceedingly rich land and produced a great wealth of grain every year. However, like a whale that sucked up all the water, the constant raids by King Pacha's commandos had really sucked the land dry. Now there was little left to support the people through winter. Even though he had systematically destroyed the lord's lands, Pacha remained calm, his eyes still cold, his voice even colder.

"Why would some lowly servant dare oppose this king? Your lands? This king has been put in charge of these lands, how can they belong to any other?"

As soon as the king challenged the status of a lord, mumbles broke out all across the room. Even the slow peacock king realized that he had made a mistake. As he looked around, his face thawed the smallest bit.

"Either way, none of it matters. Whether the lands are yours or not, the armies of the center need food, they need supplies. Even more, we need a method to win the war, and soon, before the southern dogs can come up with more cheap tricks to extend their worthless lives. To achieve peace within Medala and unite the lands under our banners, we need to make sacrifices. Be assured that the tributes will be repaid in full, but only to those who remain loyal. All who disobey shall feel the full force of Medala's combined forces!"

"This lord would never dare to oppose the king," Lord Makipura said in a low voice, his hands now shaking more from anger than from fear. "However, sacrifice without purpose helps no one. If the lands dry up, how could they continue to serve the king and his army? Where is the sense in displacing the commoners when spring is right around the corner?"

"You seem unconvinced. In that case, this king will give you a taste of his great tactical genius. Soon you will see that all who stand with the great King Pachacutec will revel in riches, and all who stand against him will wallow in rags. Warriors!"

"Yes, great King Pachacutec!" The king's warriors stood and spoke in unison, as if they had practiced this very motion. They probably had.

"Go round up the commoners outside the city. It is time for another storm onto that fake king's castle. Let us find out together just how much steel the south has to fire away."

By now, the king's cold smile had returned in full strength. No matter what his plan was, Puma felt like Kichiapa would be the loser in the battle.

__________________________

For Puma, this was a familiar position. From the command hill south of the camp, they could overlook the entire battlefield. In the distance, the imposing silhouette of Qarasi Castle stood illuminated by the sun, like a beacon to the south's stubborn nature.

Many times, they had clashed against the walls like waves against a cliff, with no success. Before long the king had gotten careful and only attempted simple, probing attacks with small, focused teams of warriors. However, this time was different. A giant sea of men stretched out between him and the castle. Even so, many of them were no warriors. Rather than the red and silver of the warrior class, he saw far more brown and gray, the humble colors of the commoners.

"Madness," he could hear his master whisper. Puma had to agree. The king's plan was nothing short of insane. What sort of king would sacrifice his own subjects, send them against an enemy to waste their ammunition? Still, there was no reason for failure with this plan. It was just not a strategy any sane monarch would attempt.

Powerless, Puma and his master watched as the commoners were driven towards the castle by warriors from the back. From what his people told Puma, the king had promised the commoners riches and freedom if they managed to storm the castle, even ten stones of silver if they brought him the head of the King of the South. However, whoever dared run away from the walls would be marked a traitor to the crown, and would revoke their right to live.

Cold and starving, with no choice left but a desperate struggle ahead, the commoners charged the southern barrier. At first the plan seemed like a success. As they charged, they forced the castle into activity. Soon, he heard the now-familiar bang of muskets from the walls. In the face of the mass of commoners, the fire was even more concentrated. Rather than individual shots, the enemy fired in volleys. Right away, the first row of commoners fell as if they had run into a solid wall of iron. Whoever hadn't died from the attack would pretend to.

Meanwhile, all who were still on their feet slowed their progress.

"Lazy bastards! Die for your king or die against him!"

Behind them, the king's guards began to swing around their axes and mow down all who dared slow their steps. Soon, the desperate commoners ran again. With no way forward and no way back, they were like trapped deer, in panicked search for an exit. And then, like a miracle, they were presented one.

From high atop the castle. Puma's excellent eyes spotted a giant cone stretch out over the balustrade. The metal shone in the sunlight like a brilliant beacon, and that was just what it would be for the commoners.

"Run past the sides and be spared!" All across the battlefield rang a strange voice. Although the metal cone distorted the sound, the message was still clear. If one paid attention, it was easy to see that the guns of the defenders were aimed at the center of the formation, while the sides were mostly safe. Soon, various portions of the crowd began to stir. They still ran away from their pursuers behind, but they no longer rushed the castle in a straight line. Instead, they had begun to round the castle from both sides.

"Master, there seem to be unusual activity within the commoners to direct their actions."

"Is it King Pacha's men?" Lord Makipura asked.

"No, most likely, they are King Corco's. They must have sneaked into the refugees to manipulate them at a crucial moment"

"In that case, let them work."

Although he always stood by his master's side, insubordination against the king still felt wrong. Doing nothing was sometimes the hardest task a servant could have.

When the king's warriors realized what Corco's spies had planned, it was already too late. As the first of the guards fell from the castle's fire, the rest retreated and left the commoner to their own fate. Without another choice, they had to watch as the commoners crossed the border from the central kingdom to the southern. This entire war had started because King Corco had tried to populate his lands with new people from the north. Now, King Pacha had gifted his nephew with several thousand immigrants in one fell swoop.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

162 Plans to be Foiled

"What do you mean, 'you do not want to leave'!?" Out of her mind, Tamaya shouted, her finger pointed at her elder brother.

"What can I say, this place is quite comfortable, so I decided to stay for a while." Fadelio decided to tease his little sister a bit.

Out of the window, he overlooked the low houses huddled in the shadows of high mountains.

"But... you have to get back to Saniya! You need to leave this place! What happens if that idiot king loses his patience and just attacks?"

"He won't." Fadelio poured himself a cup of tea, and one for his sister as well. "Not any time soon. For now, he still believes in his victory. Still thinks he can starve us out. But that's not the case, is it?"

As Tama shook her head, she seemed to calm a bit. At last she sat down and took hold of her tea, while she explained the south's preparations.

"Official Brym has amassed a significant stockpile of food on the east coast, ready for the time when Captain Atau returns. Meanwhile, King Corco should be able to establish his own routes in the west. Without any accidents, we will soon be able to circumvent the blockade and support the entire south."

"So there's no hurry for us to do something hasty and ruin everything, is there?" Fadelio tasted his tea leaned back. A bit bitter, just the way he liked it. Since his little sister had begun to pout, Fadelio decided to explain his thoughts better. She had risked her life coming here, so he should treat her like the adult he was. "Can you tell me, what was your plan for our escape?"

As soon as she could show off her cleverness, Tama's face lit up. Maybe she wasn't that much of an adult after all.

"Listen, brother! Our plan is really great, you will change your mind as soon as you hear it! First off, we brought a lot of people along, all pilgrims"

"Fake pilgrims," Fadelio corrected with a frown. Although he wasn't the most religious man, their current position aligned with the traditional forces of Medala. Any abuse of the religious customs would be harmful to their cause.

"Well, we do intend to visit the caverns either way, so you cannot consider us fake, can you?" A sly grin proved how proud she was of her trick. "Only the easterners are fake."

"You've brought Arcavians?" At last, Fadelio's curiosity was piqued. What exactly had this girl planned?

"See, I said the plan was good! To get them through that border guard of bandits, we only had to darken their skin a little and hide them under the robes. Easy enough." She looked all proud, her hands on her hips. When Fadelio thought about it, it made sense too. Since the nobles only ever whitened their skin, no one in Medala would even consider the opposite. After all, who would be willing to lower his status?

"And then what?" the brother asked.

"Well, guess what kind of easterner we brought?"

"I'm sure you will tell me, my good sister."

"No way, you gotta guess." As Tama shook her head, her hair whipped around her ears. After a bit of thought, Fadelio began to form an idea.

"...the shipwrights?" he guessed.

Suddenly, Tama's giddy mood disappeared and her pout returned.

"That's no fun! How did you even guess that?"

"Well, in the end there are not that many types of Arcavians in Saniya. So I thought: what use would clock makers, soap makers, glass blowers or merchants be in this situation? That didn't leave me with many other choices. I guess you wanted to build something?"

"That's right, bro!" Tama almost jumped over the table, her vigor returned. "See, one of them had this really smart idea: We could build a really low-lying boat and cover it with reeds and such. Then we just need to reach an unobserved part of the river and let you drift downstream until you leave Lord Nasica's territory. Closer to the Narrow Sea, we have already placed ghosts who can fish you out and help you cross the Narrows unnoticed. If you're still worried about security, don't. I am convinced we can-"

"How many?" Fadelio asked with a frown. This was the kind of plan he had expected, which was why he had decided to stay put.

"What do you mean, how many?" Tama asked as her eyes grew and grew.

"How many people can you save with that kind of boat?"

"..." As she understood the problem, Tama bit her lip to close her mouth.

"Me and how many? Ten, maybe?" the brother asked in a sharp voice.

"We can just build the boat bigger," the sister replied in a quiet voice, unconvinced.

"Are you aware that I recruited well over a thousand craftsmen in Arguna? We need to transport thousands of people. How long would it take those handful of shipwrights to build something that big, with no proper materials to boot? A year maybe?"

"That's..."

"What will happen with those commoners? They're the entire reason I risked the move south in the first place."

"But they're just commoners," Tama crossed her arms. "Are they that important?"

"They're important to Sayniya. You don't have to believe that, and you don't have to believe me, but I hope you can believe Laqhis. He'd say the same thing. If I leave here by myself, the commoners will think that we treat them as dispensable, just like every other noble has done before. But if I stay, we can prove to them and everyone willing to join Saniya in the future that we stand up and defend ours when we swim against the stream."

This time, Tama didn't answer right away, but she still scowled, still seemed unconvinced. After a while she seemed to have organized her thoughts.

"You can just keep them here for now, right? With or without you around them, their position wouldn't get any worse, right? First we have to get you safe. I mean, even if the commoners are important to King Corco, Pacha does not know that, correct? In that case, the chance of a storm on Lord Nasica's lands is reduced if you leave. Which means the commoners would be free as soon as the war is over, without any threat to themselves."

Maybe she just tried to find an excuse to save her big brother, but this was bigger than her, or Fadelio. Even more, Tama still hadn't understood his strategy.

"Sure, but who's to say that we want to prevent an invasion?" Fadelio hid his grin behind his tea cup. "Consider this: If Pacha actually attacks one of his own lords based on something minor like sheltering free commoners who might as well be pilgrims, how will the peacock look in front of his subordinates? Pacha is a traditional king. His legitimacy comes from his reputation and from the power of his backers. Take away his reputation and he loses half his strength. We'd be lucky if Pacha actually dares to attack Nasica. It would be akin to self-destruction."

"But that's too dangerous! You don't need to risk your life, right? We can just get you to safety in secret and tell no one, pretend you're still here."

"...well, that's where my last consideration comes in. You've been with Laqhis for a good while now, haven't you? What do you think of him?"

The tiniest bit of red stole itself onto Tama's loosened cheeks, but she soon firmed up her expression.

"He is a great man, kind, smart and strong... though sometimes, I wished he was a bit more... decisive."

"Yes, Laqhis can be somewhat soft." Fadelio smiled. "In his core, he's a good person, better than most. As a result, sometimes, he doesn't act when he should, doesn't punish when he should. That's why it's good if he feels some pressure. Since I'm trapped here, he can't just stay behind his walls and defend."

"'All we need is time'," Tama whispered the words Fadelio himself had heard from his master more than once.

"Which is nonsense, and we both know it," the warrior said. "Laqhis knows too, he's smart after all. If we don't become proactive, the northerners will never give us the time Laqhis wants. They will squeeze us to death. After only a year, they're already encroaching on our core strength. They will become only more brazen, unless we hit them back, hard. I can't do that and you can't either, but Laqhis can. All he needs is a little push in the right direction, against his moral compass."

At last, Tama drank her tea, her nose scrunched up from the bitter liquid. Still, she no longer protested. It seemed like she was convinced. North, east, west and center, every place was set for their counter attack. Now they just need to remain stable at home until Laqhis came back.

__________________________

With a frown on his face, Quato glanced at the strange machinery around the hall. His step sped up to reach the hunched over figure on one of the tables. Without much success, the cloth on the ghost warriors nose was meant to drive away all the stinging odors of the 'chemistry lab'. Even when King Corco had brought him along, he had disliked this place right away. Now that he was forced to cooperate with its owner, his opinion had only gotten worse.

"Offical Bombasticus, there are a few documents that require attention."

Even though the warrior had traveled all the way here, the common craftsman was still hunched over his bizarre witchcraft.

"Ah, Quato, you're here already. Just give me a few minutes please."

"This warrior cannot comply, Official," Quato said in a stern voice. "This is urgent work."

For just a moment, Ronnie looked up from his work and stared at the servant with a frown, before he sighed and looked back down to play with his toys.

"Fine, please continue."

Quato suppressed a frown of his own and decided to only discuss core problems with Official Bombasticus for now. If he spent too much time here it would be a problem for both of them.

"First is the issue of grain distribution. Ever since the start of the blockade, we have begun to sell off our surplus storage to the surrounding lords at a fair price, but it will not last for long. In addition, more and more southern lords have asked to buy, which further drains our supplies."

"Hey, please tell me what you are smelling." Without a look up, the chemist held a small cup with a white powder under Quato's nose. Rather than comply, the warrior retreated half a step, so Bombasticus lowered his hand under a grumble.

"How is an increased interest in our grain a problem?" At last, Bombasticus remembered his duties and answered Quato's concerns. "We only need to do like Master Corco asked us to. Just give priority to the lords around Saniya, and those in the south. We can ignore most of the northeast, so long as we can support one lord with a port on the east coast. Weren't all these plans prepared long ago? Why turn this into a problem again?"

"Yes, but if we continue with King Corco's plans, we will run out of food much faster than we expected. Soon, we will not have enough to feed the people and the army over the entire winter."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click for visiting.

To Quato's surprise, the irresponsible chemist waved off his concerns.

"Well, the boss will bring more food soon anyways, so it's fine if we go a bit below the limit. Just don't stop selling. If we can't establish a strong position in the south early, every subsequent move will become more laborious."

"Understood." Although he complied on the surface, Quato secretly decided to put a cap on the amount of sold grain. This ridiculous foreigner clearly wasn't to be trusted, so he himself had to reduce the damage until his king returned. However, there was one problem he could not stave off like this.

"Further, there is the issue of the foreign mercenaries. This servant believes they are ready to make trouble."

At last, the chemist turned around on his chair and offered Quato his full attention.

"What kind of trouble?" he asked in a stern voice.

"They have continued to send new soldiers to the front lines. In the process, they have preferred those who would show disobedience to the authority of the foreigners during training. At the same time, they have started to promote more and more of their own men into officer ranks. This servant believes that the mercenaries named Mason and Nahlen have conspired to take over the king's armies in his absence. They might aim to establish their own rule."

For a while, Bombasticus sank into thought on his chair, before he shook his head with vigor, as if to convince himself.

"Ridiculous. They have come here all the way from Arcavia, they have no source of power and no legitimacy. Even if their coup succeeded, how do they intend to hold their power?"

"They do not need to hold power at all," Quato said in a dark voice. Even though the chemist was a dreadful politician, he held power at the moment. He needed to understand. "So long as they only want to plunder the lands and return to their homeland, they only need to suppress the locals for a few weeks."

"Their homeland is thousands of kilometers away, that is after they cross the hostile, cold and hilly lands of southern Medala. How would they ever get home to spend all their new wealth?" a sarcastic Bombasticus said.

"They are not the only Arcavians on the continent," Quato replied in a dry voice "Maybe they intend to strike a deal with King Pacha's allies."

"I thought it was your duty to prevent those kinds of contacts?"

All of a sudden, Quato felt like he had lost control of the conversation.

"It is, but-"

"And have they contacted anyone from the north so far?" Ronnie interrupted the warrior in a loud voice.

"Again, they have not, however-"

"Then there is no problem, is there?" the chemist narrowed his eyes.

"But, official-"

"No 'but'! I have been put in charge of this nonsense city, even though I have better things to do. Rather than waste my time with all this administration nonsense, this great chemist could advance human knowledge more than any man before him. So you, warrior, should cease to bother me with your paranoia. It is your duty to prevent a rebellion from the mercenaries. Until you have any concrete evidence, this is the last I want to hear about this mercenary business. If you can't keep to that, I'll use my authority as administrator and have you replaced with someone less troublesome. Do you understand that?"

"Of course, master." His teeth clenched, the warrior scowled at the administrator, to no avail. With a calm look, Bombasticus turned back around to focus on his toys.

"Good. Close the door behind you."

A raging fire in his gut, Quato stomped out of the room. Although he had little authority to act, he would still do his best to prevent the plans of the mercenaries. If no one else would support him, he would defend the king's lands by himself, even if he had to give his life in the process.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

163 Plots and Plans

"How peculiar." Doctor Itzali said, as his head swayed left and right to observe the sutured wound. Just as he tried to touch the stitches again, Corco slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch that, weirdo. What are you, twelve?" Annoyed, Corco put away the bloodied bandage. "It's been three days now. How are you still surprised?"

"Who would come up with a technique like that?" The doctor's eyes were still transfixed by the king's shoddy workmanship.

"Using needle and thread to close a wound is not that far-fetched, is it? Since the body is broken, you repair it. Simple."

"And yet no one has considered such a strategy before," Itzali said with a frown, unhappy with his own answer.

"Oh, they have, I'm sure. What I've done isn't anything rare or special. Throughout history, I can guarantee you countless people have tried to save a life in a similar manner. Just that results will be... less than satisfactory. Unless you know exactly what you're doing."

"'Less than satisfactory'?" At last the doctor looked up, and a glint of curiosity replaced his previous frown.

"As in 'death'." Corco nodded as he smeared more of the doctor's antipyretic paste on the wound.

"Even with all of that knowledge, you would still rely on the techniques of the great Chutwa doctors, would you, young master?" Although his tone was inquisitive, a small smile formed around the doctor's mouth.

"Physician, heal thyself," Corco said to the self-satisfied Itzali, to erase his smile and replace it by a confused look.

"Excuse me?"

"Just an old saying from way back home," the king remembered another life. "Honestly though, your Moonwart is not a bad bit of medicine to rely on. I'm not an actual doctor, so I'll trust you judgment on stuff like this. Lo and behold: The swelling's been reduced quite a bit."

"Young master, how can you not be considered a doctor? This master had assumed you an esteemed colleague since long ago."

With a sad smile, Corco took the fresh bandages off the windowsill. Soaked in alcohol and cooked in boiling water, they should at least not make the injury any worse.

"I mean, my theoretical knowledge is solid for the people here, that's true. There's just not enough time to learn and practice all of it. I also lack proper training. That's why I'm here to recruit some Chutwa doctors: I need someone to replace me. I've heard the Chutwa Empire produces by far the best physicians in the world."

He wasn't lying. Although the Chutwa were an arrogant and irrational lot, their knowledge of medicine was second to none in the world, only eclipsed by their knowledge of cultivation. Of course, cultivation was far less interesting to Corco than medicine.

"You flatter the great ancestors," Itzali said as he suppressed a tiny smile. "Your own northern Empire seem to have much to offer yourself."

For now, the King of the South thought it more prudent to keep Itzali in the dark about his true origin. They were finally getting along. If he admitted to rule over some barbarian pirate nation, he would only ruin the harmony.

"True, but much of it is theoretical, and a lot is focused on wounds, rather than illness. That's another reason to come here: The Chutwa style of medicine, very herbal and focused on the eradication of symptoms through long-term therapy, is a perfect match with my more immediate, more scientific approach. If we combine the two, we will push medicine hundreds of years ahead."

Although the king could tell from Itzali's newest frown that the doctor disliked his confident attitude, it appeared like the harsh wound had humbled the physician. At least now he showed the manners he had lacked before and held back on his arrogance.

"So this is why young master has come here to Hueatlan at this time in particular. No wonder. But how did young master know about the grand herbal bazaar of the east coast?"

"...herbal bazaar?" Corco asked with a blank stare.

"It appears as if luck smiles on young master, truly," Itzali smiled like an old man who watched his clumsy grandson. "How else could it be that young master arrived here by pure chance, just during harvest season?"

Under heavy groans, the doctor righted his body, to make it easier for Corco to get around his torso and apply the fresh bandage. While the king worked, Itzali continued his explanation.

"Every year in the middle of winter, Hueatlan generates great wealth for itself. During this time, the surrounding hills offer several rare and precious medicinal herbs. None of them can be found anywhere else within the empire, yet their efficacy is outstanding. From all over the eastern lands, great doctors will make the trip during to Hueatlan this time of year. All of them come visit the herbal bazaar, ready to spend their wealth on medicine. In fact, there should only be two days left until the bazaar begins."

While the doctor was talking, Corco had finished up the bandage.

"About time my luck turned around, huh?" he murmured to himself while he washed his hands.

"Anyways," Corco continued with a clap of his hands, still cool from the wash. "These bandages are gonna be fine for a while. There might be an itch, but it's best you don't touch the wound, like, at all. Seriously, if you do the same crap like on the first night again I'm gonna bind your hands to your ears. Tomorrow we'll change bandages another time and see how everything looks. If there's any discomfort, please-"

The doctor king's explanation was interrupted by a knock from the door.

"The flowing water sect!" Itzali shrunk back on the bed.

"Don't move, and don't make a sound," Corco whispered with narrowed eyes. With his knife in one hand and his pistol in the other, he stepped up to the door. Although his own people were placed around the inn by now, there was little reason to be careless.

"Who's there?" he asked in his rough Chutwa accent.

"My name is Lamina. This servant is a maid under Lady Yasimi."

Right away, Corco's face eased. By the time his head turned to the doctor, it sported a smile.

"Well then, Doc. Turns out, some plans are working out. You still wanna live? Then you better shape up. We're going on a little journey."

__________________________

This had been the most pointless work they had ever done for the great Swordsaint.

"Why would great men such as us be forced to waste our time here?" Tlahua asked. Another sip of tea might be enough to calm him down. It did not help.

"Hmm," Chichian answered, still in his meditative pose on the other side of the table.

"What sort of task is this for such a great cultivator? This hero should be back at the flower mound, to through his limits and reach the heavens."

Impotent in the face of his master's orders, Tlahua slammed the cup onto the table to spill some of the precious tea.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Hm."

"Yes, of course. One could cultivate in this spot as well, but is this not an enormous waste? This hero wishes to avoid a counter reaction from a faulty method. To be honest, it seems foolish to cultivate like this, without calm and without safety." Although he insulted his companion, the Swordsaints hunting dog still remained stoic and pretended to cultivate like before.

"Hm."

*Showoff.*

"If only we could catch that doctor's body soon and return home."

"Hm"

"Truly, the sword saint's special plans with the city and its bazaar are understood, as is this Doctor Itzali's part in the plans. Even so, this sort of work could have taken over in a much simpler fashion, by much simpler minds."

"Shhh." At last, Tlahua had managed to coax a different reaction out of the dog, even if it still was no word.

"Of course, of course," the cultivator waved off as he emptied his cup. "'Do not talk about master's plan'. Still, even if our goals are known, this local lord would be hard pressed to resist. What can he do in front of the sect's might?"

Annoyed, Tlahua slammed the empty cup back onto the table. A tiny crack formed in the fragile porcelain, but the cultivator didn't care. Just like all the times before, some tottering servant would come, apologize for their shoddy products, and bring him a new one.

However, before he could get his new tea cup or managed to stop his companion's incessant cultivation, his keen ears picked up a strange piece of conversation.

"Weirdos, the lot," he heard a rough voice in the distance.

"Huh? What're you mumbling?" Across the street from his spot in the tea house, he could see two laborers in cheap dress walk down the street.

"You're not gonna believe this. I've seen two guys just climb down the backside of that inn there," one of the workers pointed at the establishment they had been guarding for four days. "One of them was even bleeding. I'm sure they are heroes on the run! It's like in my mawmaw's stories!"

"No way! Like when you saw that insect ghost? Remember what happened there?"

"No, I'm telling you, that locust queen's ghost really was there! And this time it's true too! You can go look for yourself..."

Although the two laborers were still engrossed in their talks, Tlahua no longer cared. There was work to be done. Energized by the prospect of a return home to the Flower Mound, the cultivator jumped up and rushed across the table. The rest of their porcelain tea set lost its life under his charge.

"Brother! Hey, Brother Chichian!"

"Hm."

"Ah, screw it!"

Determined to not fail his mission, Tlahua grabbed the dog by the shoulder and dragged him along, towards the back of the shabby inn the doctor and his apprentice had disappeared into.

Soon after, the dog stopped his pretend cultivation and the weight on his arm lightened as Chichian ran for himself.

*About damn time. Don't show off when we got work to do!*

When the two had rounded half the inn, they saw the rope let down from the building's upper floor. Since it still swung in the still morning air, they couldn't have gone far.

"Brother Chichian, we need to know the way."

"Hm."

Reinforced by a nod, the eloquent Chichian dropped down on all fours, and began to sniff first the rope, then the ground right beneath it. Even the clean stone slabs of the Chutwa City, still felt dirty to name. But then again, he wasn't really much of a dog himself.

"Quick!" he urged, and in response, the dog stood up and ran into the morning sun. As soon as they had crossed a single street, Tlahua understood.

"Wait, over there? I know where they are going! Follow me, I know a short cut."

This was the very reason he had been chosen for this mission alongside the dog: Since he had been born in Hueatlan, he knew the city better than even its lord! How else could a great cultivator like himself be degraded with such menial work?

However, when they ran into the secret alley to cut off their targets, they were stuck. Right in the middle of the street stood a cart with a donkey at its front, while another commoner loaded the back with sacks of sort.

"Move, peasants!"

"Deepest apologies, master! This mortal will move right away."

Rather than make way, the commoner decided to bow and grovel, frozen in front of the sect's might. Although it felt right, they didn't have time for this nonsense. After a swift jump to the side, he kicked off the building and thus leapt over the cart, the dog still stuck behind the cart. Without pause, he landed on his feet and continued his sprint alone, always closer towards his goal: Chatra Huemac's manor. If he was right, this was where the doctor was headed.

And indeed: When he found the court sprawl before him, two shadowy figures limped towards its gate.

"Stop them," he called, but the two unseemly doctors managed to slip into the door right before they could reach them. Annoyed, Tlahua stared after their backs. They couldn't fail like this, not when they were this close. What would the Swordsaint do if they didn't bring home results?

"You, guards! Open the way! These two are criminals wanted by Swordsaint Tlaloc! Dare stand against the might of the Flowing Water Sect and perish!"

"No dice, bandit," the guard spat on the ground. "These men carry the Chatra's official seal. Chatra Huemac does not surrender his own guests. Whatever trouble you might have with them, it can wait until they leave the lord's mansion once again. You and your ilk have no power. Not here on the Chatra's land."

Annoyed, Tlahua stared past the open fate, where the two doctors had already disappeared around a corner. If only he had more porcelain to smash! Although he didn't want to admit it, they had failed. Somehow, the risky maneuver by the doctors had caught them by surprise and paid off. Who would expect them to carry the favor of the local lord? Maybe they could force their way in, but Huemac had his own cultivators, so they wouldn't get far and waste their lives on nothing but pride.

Either way, they didn't have the clout to rid themselves of the nuisance. Only the combined weight of the sect would be enough to move the stubborn Huemac. When he heard the panting dog arrive behind him, Tlahua turned, a grim smile on his face. This was perfect. They would show this 'Chatra' who the real ruler around Hueatlan was.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

164 Two Meetings

"Lord Huemac, what a lovely home you have." With his best merchant's smile, Croco marched through the dim room, towards the imposing figure of Chatra Huemac. The fake compliment was an attempt to light up the archaic surroundings.

Not only was the lord's figure lit with hot coals from behind his back, he also sat elevated on a crude dais of stone. Even though the king stood tall, the seated Chatra's silhouette still stood above. A heavy robe, folded and stitched in complex layers all around Huemac's body, gave the lord the appearance of inhuman size.

*Are those padded shoulders? You're kidding me.*

No matter what he thought of the lord's fashion sense, Corco decided to make a good first impression and keep design tips to himself for now. Thus he walked forward, until the guards around the edges of the room began to tense up. Of course his sister had informed him about the proper etiquette, but talking to the Chatra like a servant would do no good if they wanted to establish close cooperation in the future. He would have to take a few risks and break a few rules if he wanted to be taken seriously. At least that was what Yasimi had told him of his new brother-in-law.

"...anyways, I'm glad to see my sister has found a new home in such an impressive mansion. When we met she seemed well taken care of. I'm thankful for that," Corco said as he sat on the padded ground. In response, he lord's silhouette moved for the first time, though the shadowy head only hinted at a tiny nod.

"Despite her lowly status as a foreigner, Lady Yasimi has proven valuable support. She has handled the stores entrusted to her in a very satisfactory manner." The lord's voice was much more youthful than Corco would have assumed at first. This Chatra Huemac couldn't be any older than Corco himself.

"Our sister was always the smartest of the bunch." The king decided to do some PR for his little sister. "She knows a whole lot about business, so I'm sure you'll have many more chances to be surprised. Look forward to that."

"This lord was indeed surprised to find his newest wife present these rare treasures during the last grand family meeting. In fact, the other wives were quite envious of the favor they expected her to gain." After a wave of the lord's hand, a guard stepped up to Corco and opened the small box of marketing samples Corco had given to his sister.

"This is my fault. Yasimi had to move fast since I will not stay around for much longer." Now willing to see her harmed by his own actions, the king tried to excuse his sister's actions. "I'm sure she would have been more discreet if she had been given the chance."

Rather than reply to Corco's excuses, the Chatra still seemed focused on the precious objects in question.

"How can such treasures hail from barbarian lands? Rather than stem from uncivilized coasts, were they not transported from the far west of the great Empire? Is this not an attempt to trick this Chatra?"

Of course the question was ridiculous, but of course, it also spoke of the arrogance of the Chutwa Empire. As such, of course, Corco had expected it and prepared an answer the self-obsessed lord could accept.

"Ah, see, these are the combined treasures of the entire eastern half of the world. As you might know, the landmass of Medala splits the world into two equal halves. That makes us the only feasible way to transport treasures from anywhere east of the center to Chutwa. The world is a large and wondrous place. Even the less developed lands out east would be able to offer a few things to the great Chutwa Empire. Bring all of them together and they will appear in incredible splendor."

"So that was the case. Even so, the great Empire does not trade with outside forces. It is forbidden by the great Immortal Palace."

"Which is why I'm here to offer the wares, and not in the capital." Corco spread his hands as if his revelation was obvious. "Yeah, the central powers of Chutwa don't like outsiders and they aren't especially keen on trade with outside forces either. I can't go the legal route on this, so I had to get creative. Medala isn't even a tributary state."

For now he held down his own views on the so-called 'tributaries' of Chutwa, who in truth were little more than vassal nations.

"Even if Medala was, not even the tributaries are allowed proper trade with the great Empire. All they are afforded is the honor to offer the Immortal Emperor a tribute once a year. If the emperor deigns their tribute sufficient, the tributaries will receive gifts in return."

"Yeah, the leftovers of the empire, whatever isn't needed by the powers that be. Those are hardly what I'm interested in, and hardly worthy of my own treasures," Corco scoffed. Since Huemac spoke quite openly about these things, he could open up a bit as well. "Still, the silk and tea and porcelain of Chutwa are well-known all throughout the world. All those treasures are making their way out of the empire some way."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Not a savory topic to speak of." In defense, Huemac's shadow raised a hand. It seemed like he didn't want to participate in the smuggling business of his colleagues.

"So you're not interested in a deal then? I really don't mind if that's the case, though I would prefer if we could work together, if only for my sister's sake. No need to beat around the bush, you can just tell me if something bothers you."

For a moment Huemac stared at Corco, until he offered a determined nod.

"Although secret trade is a worthwhile proposition indeed, there are many problems involved. For one, this Chatra does not have the necessary connections to launch such an undertaking. Although other nobles trade with the outside, they cannot do so on a large scale without knowledge from the Immortal Palace. Only if they know men deep within the palace can they make sure their actions go unpunished. However, this Chatra is a simple administrator, stuck at the fringes of the empire. How could he manage such a large operation and not offend men of great power?"

"Well, that's easy enough, isn't it?" Corco grinned. He had long considered how to crack the isolationist attitude of the great Chutwa scholars. Now was the time to test some of his plans. "First we need to start on a small scale, which is easy to hide. We'll just trade between ourselves, and you bunker whatever you don't use for yourself. Once you have a amassed a decent amount of treasures from the east, you can travel to the capital. Once there, present those eastern treasures as gifts from the kingdom of 'Great Britain'."

"Where is this kingdom of 'Great Britain'?" An interested Huemac asked.

"Somewhere in the east, probably," the king shrugged as he suppressed a laugh. "It doesn't really matter. All that great foreign kingdom needs to do is swear its fealty to the Immortal Emperor of Chutwa. After all, 'Great Britain' was founded by a scholar from the far off Chutwa Empire. On his travels around the world, to educate the barbarians, he got sick and had to settle down. However, even in the distance he could not forget his great empire and thus decided to bring as much of its light to his new home, even if it was only a shallow copy."

"A lie then," Huemac said.

"It's a good story, I'd say. Consider this: Will the great scholars accept that these treasures are of any value if they come from barbarian lands? If you can't establish any connection to Chutwa, an scholar could ruin your plans with a single word."

Since Huemac didn't answer, sunk in thought, Corco continued his persuasion.

"Anyways, once the great nobles and scholars have accepted these treasures as part of the Chutwa tradition, they will try your samples. Once they do, all of them will want to obtain even more of them. At that point, I'm sure that one, specific tributary wouldn't have any trouble getting an exception on the rules of trade. Great Britain is practically a Chutwa colony anyways. And since these mysterious easterners only deal with me as a middle-man, and since the middle-man only deals with you through his sister, your city will become a central trade hub for the empire. How's that sound?"

"However, even if this Chatra were to agree with this sort of ploy, implementation would still be impossible. It appears as if young master Corco does not understand the grandeur of the Immortal Palace. If this Chatra wished to win over most of the palace, he would have to offer far too much. A lot of dye and... mirrors would be needed to convince every man in the capital. This Chatra presumes they would not be given for free. How would a poor land like Hueatlan ever pay for them?"

Under other circumstances, Corco would have at least considered to write these off as marketing costs, but at the moment he had more important things to worry about. Since he couldn't be generous, he decided to be just.

"Well, in the short term, you can just pay us in food. That wouldn't be a problem, would it? I've heard you have a pretty large stockpile, and we're willing to pay you well in return."

Although the lord bent down to think for a while, in the end his posture relaxed again.

"Even so, the needs of Medala may not be sufficient."

"There's more as well." Glad that he could broach the subject in a natural manner, Corco raised a finger. "You see, we have been going around your city to find a good doctor over the last few days. After all, the doctors of Medala aren't much compared to the great Chutwa physicians."

"True indeed." Huemac's voice ballooned with pride.

"Right, so we decided to recruit a few doctors for our personal use back home. When we recruit Chutwa doctors, we can also make use of Chutwa medicine, so we could also trade with Hueatlan's herbs. Though I hope recruiting doctors would be fine. I don't want to impose."

"Of course." Even though the Chatra's words were kind, his voice dripped with condescension. "If there are any Chutwa Doctors beyond that street doctor who wish to leave the great Empire for barbarian lands, you are free to take them with you."

"Thank you very much." Corco bowed to hide his grin. Things had gone almost too well. In this way, he could complete his plans with ease. Once he had regained control of his face, the king was ready to stand and leave, but the Chatra raised his hand to stop him. His smile unwavering, Corco waited for the lord to speak.

"However, this lord has received news of a troubling sort. It appears as if young master Corco has made trouble in his attempts to recruit these doctors. The Sword Saint did not appreciate young master Corco's recruiting efforts and the flowing water sect has been disturbed. This is not the kind of trouble this Chatra wishes to see on his lands."

"Well, that's not exactly what happened." Corco looked around to the guards in the room, before he continued in a lowered voice. "To be frank, that young sect master ran around the city, shouting how he's the city's real master, how the local Chatra is a coward who does not deserve the grace of the Immortal Palace."

"What!?" When Huemac jumped up from anger, Corco could see his plump, smooth face. He couldn't be older than twenty-five. "Is that the truth!?"

*Too easy,* Corco thought, before he nodded with a grave face.

"Would I lie to my own brother-in-law? Really, I couldn't stand his arrogant manners, so I told him off right away. No one talks about my little sister's husband like that. Though when I talked with the guy, the doctor we tried to recruit got caught in the middle and was injured. Meanwhile that so-called 'Swordsaint' sent his henchmen after us, rather than face me in a proper duel. In the end we had no choice but to hide within the Chatra's mansion. However, if it is an inconvenience we will leave right away."

Although his face was still dark with anger, Huemac seemed to have calmed down somewhat. When he stepped down from his dais, his guards rustled around for a bit, but did not move in the end. When he arrived in front of the barbarian king, he stretched out his hand.

"No need. This Chatra will stand to those who stand with him. Never will he abandon an ally, or a member of his family."

*Especially not one who stands to make you so much money, huh?* Corco thought as he grasped the young lord's soft and fattened hand.

"However, brother Corco may leave this Chatra alone for now. There are many matters to consider. Please stay within the compound as a guest until a decision can be made."

"But I wanted to go out and recruit a few more doctors. Isn't that possible?"

In response, the Chatra nodded without much thought.

"Do be careful. Do not leave the premises without a guard."

"Of course not. I don't aim to force a fight with that Swordsaint. I am not suicidal after all."

As he turned, Corco's grin turned wider and wider. If he wasn't completely off, he wouldn't have to provoke a fight anymore. The fight would find him all by itself.

__________________________

"Brother, you should never underestimate other people the way you do. No-one who holds power is an idiot, and you cannot fathom the might of the Flowing Water Sect."

After Corco had left his meeting with the Chatra, Yasimi's maid had awaited him right out the door and brought him to his sister again. Now Yasimi stared at him with a frown of disapproval.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I'm in no danger."

"I am not worried about you, brother," she sighed. "I am worried about my new home."

"I thought you didn't like it here?"

"Although husband has been a bit distant, I have far more freedom and purpose here than I ever had in the Silver Palace. I do not wish to see this city destroyed by your... reckless ploys."

At once Corco calmed himself. Even though he had considered his sister's future in his plan, he didn't need to keep it all to himself. How would she be served by worrying for no reason, or even by losing trust in him? Thus, he decided to explain a bit more to Yasimi.

"If my plan works out well, Hueatlan will be fine, and you will be even more fine. Everyone will win, except for that Flowing Water Sect maybe. Look, I don't plan to trick you, or lie to you. I don't mind telling you all the details of the plan. That way you're prepared. Just don't tell your husband for now."

"I would rather not be any more involved." A smile formed on her lips. "This way, at least I can pretend ignorance in front of husband."

"Clever as always, huh?" Corco grinned.

"So you do plan something troubling for House Huemac." The sister laughed, as if it wasn't her own house.

"Well, now I can't tell you anymore, can I?" the brother laughed. "Don't worry though, it's gonna be a lot of fun, zero hangover guaranteed. Let's just hope those xianxia people are as cliché as I pegged them to be."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

165 Plans and Ploys

"So, you failed in your task."

His arms crossed in front of his chest, Tlaloc tried his hardest to look imposing. Attitude was important for a great Swordsaint like himself, that much his master had taught him. How else could his subordinates respect him? Even more, he was angry that his disciples had failed to fulfill his wishes. What use were some low-class cultivators if they could not follow simple instructions? However, even though the dogs lay before him on their knees, the defiant light in one pair of eyes had not lessened. Even the dog's reply surprised the master.

"Yes master, indeed we failed, just as master wished for," Tlahua said, a sly grin on his face.

"Huh?" Before Tlaloc could grasp the situation, his disciple had left the master behind and continued his thoughts on his own.

"This disciple can only offer his greatest deference to master's genius. Everything went just as planned by master. After all, the sect's original plan was to enter Hueatlan and look for a doctor to cure master's illness."

"But master is not ill, is he?" Chichian the dog said with slurred words.

"Idiot! That *is* the plan! Since master is not ill, those foolish doctors would try to diagnose master and make mistakes in the process. Then, all we need to do is show our anger and we would have sufficient reason to take over the herbal bazaar of Hueatlan."

"Indeed. That stubborn Chatra Huemac has held onto his power for far too long. Once the bazaar is ours, how could that lowly governor even hope to stand against the powerful Flowing Water Sect again?" Self-satisfied, Tlaloc nodded his head, before he realized he had been pulled along by his discipole's words. With a frown, he returned to the core of the matter. "Even so, that... street doctor's words went too far! Never has a great sword saint been this insulted!"

"True, which is why the sect's actions will be even more justified. That was why we were tasked to watch the doctor and his apprentice, was it not? With our mere presence, we created pressure and made sure the doctor and apprentice would be forced to seek shelter within the Chatra's mansion. However, this disciple wonders how master could know about the doctor's connection to the local Chatra. Please master, enlighten this dull servant."

For a moment, Tlaloc was the dull one. Who had planned what? Their ploy had never been this intricate to start with. They just wanted to make some trouble and then force their will onto others through sheer power, like they had done so many times before. Still, how could it be that a simple disciple would upstage a master in terms of intellect?

"Of course this saint would be prepared well enough. A simple disciple would never understand the deep thoughts of a great cultivator. Study hard and cultivate your mind. Only then will you be able to reach your master's level," he said and further straightened his already upright spine. "If there is sufficient justification, none of the surrounding administrators will have a chance to interfere. Soon, the bazaar will be ours, and then all of eastern Chutwa will fall into the hands of the glorious Flowing Water Sect."

As he watched his disciples lower their heads in deference, Tlaloc's lips curled up. This was convenient enough. Through their own misunderstanding, he could further improve his reputation with the simple disciples. At the same time, their plan had pretty much become a guaranteed success now. With the current Chatra's weak attitude, Hueatlan's soldiers would never oppose a show of force from the sect. All he had to do was make sure he punished the annoying doctor who had insulted him in the process of their conquest. This would be easy. He was already looking forward to it.

"Tell the disciples to get ready. And ask Scholar Itoia for his support as well. We're headed back to Hueatlan right away. It is time for the sect to show the local magistrate who holds real power in the east."

"Yes master!"

Unfortunately for the great sword saint, he failed to see the sly grin from one of his disciples. Through his own sharp mind and his master's ego, Tlahua had only just managed to erase his failure and escape with his life.

__________________________

Just like Huemac had said, Corco's recruitment efforts had not yielded any more success. It had been several days since he had left the safety of the Chatra's mansion. Since then, he had only traveled together with two of the lord's guards. Of course, his own men would also come along, though only in secret. Since he didn't want to publicize his status or his secret agreement with Huemac, the king couldn't very well have his men show off his banner, could he? Still, since he was accompanied by the Chatra's official troops, the doctors in the city were a lot less rude to him, but they still weren't receptive to his offers.

In the end, most of them just weren't interested in anything outside of Chutwa. After all, even Itzali had only decided to join his cause after Corco had saved his life, and after the doctor had royally offended a powerful local force and needed to find shelter elsewhere. The king couldn't expect to get this lucky every time. So, since he didn't have the time to wait for his luck, he would have to engineer it. However, the xianxia young master proved to be a lot more patient than he had thought at first.

At this rate, he would have to return back home with only a single physician. This would be his last day in Hueatlan. Wacoca had already readied their ships for their departure. After this final attempt to get more field doctors for his army, they would return first to the Verdant Isles to finalize his deal with the Green King, before he would make the journey back home. After all, there was still a siege waiting for him to resolve it. Letting his uncle wait for so long wasn't Corco's usual style anyways.

As he strolled through the now-familiar market for one last time, a wistful look on his face, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. As if it had never existed, Corco's melancholy was blown away with the favorable winds from across the plaza. As a group of fancily dressed young masters marched towards him, Corco plastered a despondent look on his face, while he only just managed to hide his excitement. They had even brought a white-robed scholar with them. One of the flowing water sectists pointed towards the king as he spoke to the young Swordsaint Tlaloc in the center of the formation.

As soon as the saint raised his hand in a lazy gesture, his minions spread out to close off all entrances to the market. With great strides, the young master, followed by the servant and the scholar, marched towards the king.

*Only two men in support, and one of them a noncombatant. He's a haughty one, huh?*

"You, commoner! Are you not the apprentice of the physician called Itzali?" the Swordsaint said, one finger pointed at Corco and one hand on his sword.

"So what if I am?" the king answered, and stole a slight tremble into his voice.

"Hand over your master's location right this moment! For his transgressions, he shall receive his just rewards! Do so and this saint will overlook your life just this once!"

"'Just'? Where is the justice in any of this?" Corco repeated his studied lines with a low growl, and took half a step back. "As he would always do, master only tried to save a patient back then. It was not master's fault that the patient was not happy with his diagnosis. Where is the justice in killing a good man like that for no good reason?"

"Young man, your heart might be pure, but your words are not correct." From the side, the old man in the white robes buzzed in. "Although the doctors hold a special status in society for their great skills of healing, but in the end, they are still nothing more than common craftsmen. How could an ordinary commoner insult a true master of cultivation like this?"

*Trimmed beard, arrogant, self-satisfied attitude, scrawny arms. This must be another one of the Way's scholars.*

"Who's an ordinary commoner? Master even has the official seal from Hueatlan's Chatra, Lord Huemac!"

As soon as Corco snapped back in rebuttal, the servant of the trio stepped forward and pointed his finger again. They really loved doing that, pointing and shouting at kings.

"How dare you speak to the great Scholar Itoia like this? Even though the great scholar showed so much leniency and tried to educate you in the truth, you still-"

"That is enough," the scholar raised his hand to interrupt the servant. "This teacher thanks inner disciple Tlahua for his support, but it is not necessary to berate this young man so. After all, for a teacher of the Way, it is necessary to convince others of the great truth, rather than to intimidate them into compliance. Please allow this teacher to help this young man see the light."

He turned to Corco.

"Young apprentice. Indeed, your teacher holds the seal of the local Chatra, but this action does not erase his guilt, it only transfers it. You must understand that a commoner can, under no circumstances, show disobedience towards a cultivator. Thus speaks the Way. The low shall devote to the high and the high shall love the low in turn. How else could we live in a civilized world of peace?"

Even though Corco felt like spitting in the guy's face and insulting his ridiculous school of thought in front of the entire crowd, he had to hold back for now. At the moment, he played the role of a Chutwa doctor's apprentice, and he was on Chutwa land. If he insulted their entire culture, he would hardly win the doctors in attendance over to his side. Thus, he waited for the teacher to continue with his hypocritical nonsense.

"Thus, when Chatra Huemac offered shelter to the guilty commoner, doctor Itzali, the doctor's guilt indeed disappeared through the Chatra's grace. However, in the process the lord took sides against a cultivator, and sided with one who had broken the commandments of the Way instead. How could this be true and just? How could these be the actions of a servant to the Immortal Palace?" The scholar's voice got louder and louder as he spoke, while he hid his face with his right hand. Despite the shoddy performance, Corco could tell from the grins of the scholar's two companions that this was roughly their goal: Bring along a scholar of the way to legitimize their claims. Make the local lord look guilty in front of his own people and threaten his very livelihood: His government appointment. With that sort of bargaining chip in hand, they could extort not only the doctor who had insulted their young master. They could also rob whatever else they felt like. However, Corco had his own plans.

"That means, if master was no commoner, he would be blameless?"

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

As soon as the bold apprentice spoke up, the scholar's hand revealed his face again, together with his deep frown.

"However, not every man can be a cultivator. Thus is the way of the world. Since your master is only a simple craftsman, he will have to stand up for his crimes, or have his lord take them on for him."

"No he won't! Master is a cultivator, a far greater one than those windbags from the piss stream sect!" Corco shouted and pointed right back at the two young masters.

"Little bastard!"

"Calm yourselves!" The Swordsaint's silver blade was already half-unsheathed, but the scholar's words held him back at the last second. Meanwhile, the circle of people around them drew ever tighter, as more and more people at the market joined in on the fun. All of them wanted to see the haughty brat who would dare challenge the scholars.

"Saint Tlaloc, there is a need to ascertain the truth first. Rash actions would be ill-advised." In response to the doctor's words, the young master spat on the ground in front of Corco and resheathed his sword. At the same time, Corco's hidden hand eased the grip on his pistol. It was a shame, really. If only the young master had attacked him, the king could have killed him through justifiable self-defense and saved a lot of time and effort.

*Well then, time for plan B.*

"Young man," the scholar said with a strained smile, "Your master cannot pretend to be a cultivator. That is a great sin deserving of death, or worse. Please be truthful and weigh your next words with care."

"It's true though! Master is a great cultivator! He has taught me everything he knows about cultivation, much more than those piss brothers over there will ever know! You want proof? Here it is: I challenge that Saint Xianxia over there to a duel, life or death! If he loses he'll have to admit that my master was right and he can't get it up. Let's see who's the liar then!"

Eyes bloodshot and hands cramped into fists, the xianxia young master stepped ahead of the scholar at last. It appeared even the fake intellectual had also lost all interest in a civil discussion, as he didn't hold back the enraged Swordsaint.

"Okay brat, this saint was willing to overlook your transgressions, but it appears as if you are just as rotten as your master. This saint will educate you on your crimes, and show the city of Hueatlan the great power of flowing water!"
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

166 A Sacrifice for the Future

*Well, this feels quite familiar.*

Just like he had done a year ago, Corco stood in front of a spoiled young master who styled himself as a great warrior. Just the same, there was a ring of spectators around him who expected him to lose. He wasn't even that much of a fighter. Why did he always end up in these weird positions?

"Although you have a large mouth, in the end you still lack the resolve of a cultivator. Since you are not man enough to fight this saint at his best, we will do so without weapons."

While he spoke, Swordsaint Tlaloc pulled out his blade and handed it over to one of his disciples, who received it in great awe. Just like Pacha, the saint kept his long, cumbersome sleeves down and still had his robe on.

*The same arrogance as well. Let's see if they also bleed the same.*

"No matter what you say, I don't even have a sword. How could a fight with weapons ever be fair?" Corco played fearful.

Even when the king insisted on no weapons, the saint held a smile of absolute confidence on his face.

"This saint would not mind if you borrowed a weapon from his disciples, apprentice. What do you say boy, do you wish to fight like a man?"

"And entrust my life to a weapon I have never used before, one potentially tampered with by your men?"

At first Tlaloc frowned, but his smile soon returned. No wonder, since it was easy to pretend grace when one believed to be in an insurmountable position.

*Let's see how long you can keep up that grin of yours once I smash your face in.*

"Of course, this saint understands if you have reservations, young man. If nothing else, it is commendable that you would stand up for your master like this. Thus, there is no need to fight to the death, is there? How could a fight to the death even happen without weapons?"

As his own smile widened, Corco thought about the daggers and pistols still hidden all over his body. Killing this 'saint' would be easy, but he had to find the right moment. Still, if the young master was so worried about his reputation that he wanted to go easy on Corco, the king wouldn't mind. A weaker enemy would give him more room for error.

"True. This apprentice thanks saint for his leniency."

Although he talked about leniency, Corco had no illusions. The disciples of the sword saint still surrounded the entire plaza. This hardly looked like the actions of someone who wanted to give him a mere slap on the wrist. If Corco lost here, death wouldn't be the worst possible outcome.

"In that case, ready yourself, young man. Here comes this saint's first strike."

With an eerie leisure, Tlaloc sauntered forward, his hands low to his sides. Halfway to Corco's position, the saint raised his arms, ready for a punch. However, Corco never let the man's hip out of his sight.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

*Too predictable.*

Before the kick could hit him, Corco raised up his arms to protect his mid-section. He followed the force and stumbled to the side to take away the impact. His hands tingled a bit, but it wasn't a big deal. Although the hit was as hard as could be expected of an accomplished cultivator, it wasn't a power he hadn't felt in his training with Atau of Fadelio. Those guys hit much harder than this so-called saint.

"That was no strike, saint!" Corco shouted in fake indignation. Meanwhile, the great saint stood there, proud of his cheap trick and Corco's apparent weakness.

"Haha, a real cultivator always has to be prepared for all eventualities. Still, it is commendable that you managed to protect yourself despite that. It appears not all your words were lies." As if he was trying to convince the crowd that most of them were, the saint's eyes ran through the plaza, rather than focus on his enemy. "This saint will teach you the basics of cultivator com-"

While the idiot still showed off, Corco rushed to his unprepared enemy. Before he had realized, Tlaloc's legs had been tackled. His composure all gone, the cultivator thrashed at Corco's back, but with a low shout, the young king flipped his opponent to the ground. Now he could do what he had done to Pacha: Mount and smash the arrogant fuck's face in.

But when he tried to roll onto his enemy, he only managed a sloppy half-mount. In the short time he had been given, Tlaloc had managed to compose himself and move into a sitting position.

*Bad.*

When the first punch hit his shoulder, Corco knew he was in a bad position. Without hesitation, he gave up his position. He rolled to the side and off his enemy. Although he could try to trap the legs, Tlaloc's arms were totally free by now. He wasn't sure how many strikes he could take to the back of his head, but he was in no mood to find out... and he needed that head for a lot of other things in the future.

When he stood back up, the king got in a stance right away, and his enemy had done the same.

"Bastard!" Tlaloc shouted.

"Right back at you. How about 'A real cultivator needs to stay focused' as an excuse for my shameless attack? Let's just cut the bullshit and fight. How about it?"

"Very well."

His face scrunched up, the young master rolled up his sleeves and got into a proper fighting stance for the first time. As he did so, his eyes never left Corco, who leisurely waited for his enemy. Now that both of them had tried and failed sneak attacks, there would be little point in any more, and Corco had his own pride. When the saint came forward again, it was with entirely different purpose. Still, the attack was the same.

*Another mid-kick. Predictable.*

Again Corco blocked, and backed up a bit. Although the kicks seemed impressive, the damage was minimal so long as he blocked with his arm. The next time, Corco decided to step up the pressure.

*Third one.*

As soon as he stepped back into range, another kick came towards the king. Right away, Corco stepped into the enemy's range and got ready to deliver a vicious uppercut. He would fuck up that young master good and proper. But then, the king's plans were foiled.

*Crap.*

Somehow, the saint's standing leg bent and bent, until he stood in an impossible posture. Somehow, despite Corco's maneuver, the kick still connected. Again the king jumped to the side. Again their distance was re-established.

*What happened there?*

With suspicion, Corco observed his enemy, as he slowly stretched his flank to drive out the stinging feeling. How had he even been hit? While he still thought, the young master's earlier grin reappeared, wider than ever.

"In the end, you are only a novice, nothing more. You could never compete with a true cultivator, with a true man of power."

Even though the arrogant fop's showboating gave Corco time to breathe and clear his head, he still couldn't understand what had happened. Even worse, it would be the only thing Tlaloc would say for minutes. Instead, he decided to take the king apart systematically.

*What the fuck is this?* Corco thought, and blocked another of Tlaloc's hits on his arm. Just as he was about to land his counter, the saint's joints bent in an unnatural, impossible angle. The open palm reached his chin to smack his face to the side. When Corco had recomposed himself, Tlaloc had already reestablished his favorite distance.

*Annoying.*

This had been going on for a while now, and it started to go on his nerves. At least by now he understood why he couldn't read the saint's moves.

"It appears you finally understand the power of Flowing Water."

What an apt name this was for the fop's technique. Whatever cultivation technique this sect used, it blessed its users with an impossible flexibility. Whenever Corco was attacked, he was sure to receive a hit from some impossible angle. The Swordsaint's attacks could change direction mid-flight. Corco couldn't read them at all. Thus, he had still failed to move in on his enemy. Even the few times the king had gotten hold of his enemy and tried for a takedown, Tlaloc had somehow twisted his limbs and slipped out of the bind.

While the young master still bounced around the stone pavement and showed off his bad teeth with a wide grin, Corco took a deep breath to drive out his fatigue. Too many books, too much brandy and not enough training had left a toll. He'd have to improve discipline again when he came back home. Since there was a short lull in the action as Tlaloc waited to counter Corco's next attack, the king scanned the surroundings. By now the circle of spectators was as solid as eternal ice. While the inhabitants and guests of Hueatlan were spread on the outside, the inner ring had been taken up by Tlaloc's disciples. By now, they observed Corco with dangerous glints in their eyes.

"Yes indeed," Tlaloc said to refocus Corco's attention. "You may wish to search for an exit, but your search will yield no success. You have insulted this great saint, and thus you shall receive your just punishment. Thus it shall be."

"As wished by the great Way," the obnoxious scholar Itoia added.

"Right, let's end this then," Corco said and cracked his neck. He knew it was a pointless gesture, but he had always liked the image. Plus, he wanted to give his enemy a fair warning. Playtime was over. Like so many times before in the fight, Corco stomped ahead. Like so many times before, he was answered by a kick, and rushed inside of his enemy's range in response.

*Always from the right.*

The saint's attacks were repetitive, but they still kept working. Again Corco got ready to deliver a punch in response, this time a straight to the face. His body remembered the attacks from before and could sense the kick long before it hit. Again the saint's ankles bent and Tlaloc's toes bored themselves into Corco's side.

*Pointless.*

Unfazed, Corco's punch sailed on. What sort of power could this idiot generate from a pure ankle kick? Of course, power didn't matter when he wielded a sword. Even a light poke at the right place could be deadly then. Had the young master insisted on an armed duel, Corco wouldn't have stood a chance. But as things were, that xianxia idiot was doomed.

As Corco's fist closed in, Tlaloc's grin froze and his eyes widened. Now it was too late for another counter. Somehow, the great saint's head spun to the side just on time. Any normal person would have snapped his neck with that move, but Corco knew his enemy was still fine.

As his fist sailed past the saint's head, Corco turned his hand and grabbed into a full bushel of hair. When he yanked the idiot's head back up, he could finally see the panic in his eyes.

*Dodge this.*

Without mercy, elbow after elbow landed in the young master's face. The wet crunch told Corco all he needed to know about his enemy's state. Although the body's muscles had lost all power already, Corco only changed his grip a bit and began to work his knees on the great saint's nose. This time he wouldn't play around like he had with Pacha. This time there would be no surprises, no hidden knives. By the time of Corco's last hit, his knee was caked in the blood and flesh of his enemy. Like a sack of rice, the saint's body plummeted to the ground. At first the crowd was stock-still, but then the first of the great master's disciples stepped forward.

"How dare-"

"Hey, stop pushing you bastard!"

Although he tried to gain initiative, the disciple pushed away one of the commoners in the process. The crowd was just too packed. Soon, similar scenes repeated all around the circle. As the disciples tried to reach their master and the commoners tried to move away, close in, or run in circles like headless chicken, the plaza soon turned into pandemonium.

With a determined look, his lips pressed together and his brow furrowed, the king looked down on his unconscious opponent. The glint of iron entered first Corco's hand, and then hovered over the saint's head.

*No more enemies. No compromises. *

When the steel entered Tlaloc's head, Corco could first feel harsh resistance, but everything became easy as soon as he pierced the skull and entered the brain. His eyes wavered and filled with tears, half from disgust at the sensation, half from disgust at himself. Although Tlaloc was an idiot, he didn't deserve to die. Corco knew that. Still, he couldn't leave any loose ends. This plan had to be a success. Any of the deaths today would be his fault anyways. Another by his own hands wouldn't matter much when it came to eternal damnation.

Although he looked back up to distract himself from the dirt on his hands, he found only chaos all around. Somewhere hidden in this mess were his own troops, disguised as local farmers, fishermen or traders. How else could such a panic spread spontaneously? Somewhere within the crowd, Corco could hear a scream of agony, the last cry of Tlaloc's disciple. He closed his eyes to shut out the carnage.

All of a sudden, Corco doubted if any of this was worth it, for just a bit of food and a few doctors. Still, he wouldn't waver, not now. No matter how many had to die, he would make the perfect kingdom in his head a reality, and turn Medala into a paradise like never before or never again. If he couldn't even achieve that, what would all the sacrifices be for? Why go to war with his family, why kill so many?

When the king's eyes opened again, there was no waver, and no tears. Clear and cold, the King of the South observed the crowd, and watched his servants do their handiwork. Now everything was in motion. Soon, their plan would be a complete success.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

167 Conspiracy

As Quato sneaked through the streets of central Saniya, he understood that truth was a dull weapon in the face of raw power. Never before had he been more aware of his own weakness, more isolated. No one was by his side, none of his ghost brothers there to support his cause.

Before the king had left, he had assigned Quato to serve under Official Bombasticus, as a sort of liaison between the castle bureaucrats and the temporary administrator. After all, the official had no practical experience in the rule of the territory, while Quato had spent several months as one of the king's assistants. Although the position itself promised power, he was also cut off from the rest of the ghost warriors. Rather than with his own brothers, he now had to deal with foreign merchants all the time, as well as his stubborn, temporary new master, the alchemist named Bombasticus.

Just that very master was the only man who knew the names and locations of all ghost warriors in Saniya. As the temporary leader of the ghosts, he could control their position and movement, to horrible effect. When Quato had tried to contact his brothers to support him in his current endeavor, all the ghosts were gone, as if disappeared into thin air. Even worse, when he made his new master aware of the problem, he had been shooed away in favor of some new toy in that laboratory of his.

Thus he was now stuck alone. Even though he knew that the movements of the mercenaries were suspicious, there was no one to turn to. How could that alchemist be so blind? After all, the entire city was under tension, ready to snap. Mercenaries who should otherwise stay in their camp beyond the outer walls now strutted through the streets as if they owned it and terrorized the local population. At least it made his work easier. All these foreigners had to go somewhere during the night, and it sure was not the outer city. Since there was no one to support him, he would have to act by himself, and so he followed a small group of foreign soldiers.

Soon, he reached an old, abandoned court in the inner city and watched them disappear inside. Many of the mansions in this part of the city had become empty when the warriors of former administrator Sawo had become prisoners. Most of them had since gone back into use again, some as official buildings like the king's new school, and some as living quarters for the ghost warriors and the king's new recruits. However, a few courtyards had been preserved in their deserted state to be used as a training ground by the soldiers. In fact, training within these courts was the only exception to the rule that forbade the foreign troops to bear arms inside the inner city without express order. It was a place for the army to study and practice war within a city, and how to fight it.

According to the king, they would have to fight an urban war within Medalan cities sooner or later, so it was best to train in the right environment and be prepared early. Unbeknownst to Quato's lord, the urban war might happen much sooner than even he could ever imagine, maybe even before the king returned from his trip to prepare for another war already in progress.

Over the past few days, Quato had followed Mason whenever he did not have to pursue his duties. As a result, he had been led to this place again and again. The regular visits were a surprise at first. What would a quartermaster need to do in an obscure training facility, Quato wondered.

Soon though, he understood: In here, the troops of the mercenaries could move unhindered. Out of sight of the king's men, they could amass both weapons and supplies behind the sturdy walls. On top of it, the mansions sat right in the center of the city, only a short march from the bridge to Rapra Castle. This here was the ideal place to start a rebellion. For a while, Quato paced along the walls, until he found himself within an alleyway. Now shielded from view, he nimbly climbed into the estate. Over the days, he had already found the best point of entry and memorized the entire layout inside with the help of a 'borrowed' map from the urban planning department. Of course theft of the king's private goods was not the action of a proper warrior, but he couldn't be picky. He just hoped his loyalty during tonight's proceedings would redeem his sin.

With the ghost's silence, he landed back on the ground. Without incident, he managed to cross the small outer yard in the blind spot between two guards and climbed through a window in the wall, the plaster crumbling away between his fingers. Beyond the sparse watchmen outside, there seemed to be little security here, no surprise for a building in rare use. Any more must have been too conspicuous for Mason, Quato thought.

However, as soon as he crossed through a hallway and entered the inner portion of the estate, everything changed. All of a sudden, he could see many dimmed lights in the distance, and hear whispers and chuckles in the wind. From within a deep shadow, Quato watched as three foreign soldiers of the king marched past. They spoke their rough language in loud voices, too engrossed in their conversation to notice the one who observed them.

Further in the distance, he could hear more voices, and see more lights. He couldn't proceed like this, the number of foes was just too dense. Still, if he turned back now and turned to the guards there was no guarantee he could change anything. What evidence did he have of a rebellion? What if the guard he spoke to was part of this ploy? What if his new master with his strange, indifferent actions was as well? But what else could he do?

As he was still in conflict over his next step, a straggler turned a corner and offered a solution. A single foreigner rushed after the initial three with an annoyed look on his face. Quato didn't know what this stranger was so upset about, but he didn't care. Before the mercenary even understood what had happened, a hand had reached from the shadows and covered his mouth. With all his strength, Quato dragged the off-balance enemy into the darkness. His dagger was long prepared.

To the sound of muffled, confused calls from the straggler, the steel pierced into his right ear and turned his alarmed fidgeting into a desperate flail. Not long and the last burst of life had left the body. Although there were many enemies within the compound, they seemed disorganized. Within the relative darkness, a shallow disguise would be enough to get him quite far.

Once Quato had secured a uniform for himself, the rest was easy. His head was lowered as he marched through the halls, always careful to avoid larger groups, always careful to walk at a brisk pace and appear busy, staying in the open yards and hallways outside the main rooms. After he had followed the denser cluster of lights for several minutes, he soon heard something he had not expected; someone was speaking Yakua, and well.

"It is too dangerous! Taking over Saniya cannot be this easy!"

With a frown, Quato sneaked closer to the room where the sound originated. He was too familiar with this voice. Before they had been promoted into officer ranks, all new recruits from Saniya had been screened by the ghosts. To confirm his suspicions, he leaned in to spy through the window. To his shock, his worst fears were confirmed. The room was well-lit, a group of uniformed people sat around a large table. All of them were familiar to Quato. These were some of the officers from the king's new army. Even worse, there were a good few Yakua warriors among them. And at the head of the table sat Mason. Elevated above the rest, he styled himself like a king.

"Why not?" the fat mercenary asked. "Right now, all that stands to defend this city is some idiot alchemist who has no interest in the land or the people. While he sits locked in his chamber in search of some elusive secrets, we can move however we wish. The troops of the king are without a head, without leadership. Even if the king returns, what can he possibly do to us once we have taken control of the city?"

"The king is not far away, somewhere on the front lines of the battlefield against the northern forces. What if King Corco hears of the insurgence and returns? Would he not put a swift end to all of this?"

Again Quato heard the voice, and this time he could put a face to it. This was Olacu, one of the new officers within the army. Quato's fist closed around the hilt of his dagger, his knuckles white from rage. At the same time, a bellowing laugh escaped Mason, followed by a dirty grin.

"How could he? Did you not know? The king is not at the northern border at all. Instead, he is far away, all across the sea in the west, in search for more food before his kingdom starves to death."

"What? How could that be?" a stunned Olacu asked through the confused whispers of the other men at the table. As Quato looked around the room, he realized that one face he had expected was still absent. Somehow, Nahlen, one of the two main conspirators, hadn't shown up to this important meeting.

"Don't worry about the details. I heard this news from someone within the castle itself, so I'm sure it's reliable."

"Impossible!" Olacu's eyes opened wide. "Even if they are foreigners, which of his personal servants would ever betray the king?"

"In the end, most people in the castle are Arcavians. They're still our men," the mercenary sneered. "Even if they're paid by that king right now, their loyalties lie with us. As soon as they see the promise of greater riches, they will throw away that king without hesitation."

"Still, once King Corco's main forces turn around and focus the city, we won't be able to hold on for long, even in the king's absence. After all, the commoners within Saniya would never support us. Although Lord Sawo was also an outsider and managed to keep the city stable, he was just a puppet of House Ichilia in the end, and at least he was still a Medalan Warrior and not a foreigner."

A derisive snort escaped the merchant. It might have been intended to sound like a mighty beast, but to Quato it sounded like a donkey's breath.

"Who said we need to control anything?" Mason said with a smirk. "All we need to do is take all the valuables of the city and make them our own. That self-indulgent king keeps collecting all the treasures of the twin-isles in that castle of his. If we can plunder the king's private stash, we will all become rich beyond our wildest dreams. Just imagine, all the treasures of Saniya are right within our grasp!"

Encouraged, the murmur in the room swelled up again, this time tense with anticipation. However, Olacu still seemed unconvinced by Mason's promises. At least he was no complete idiot.

"But where do we go once we have taken the treasures? We cannot spend our wealth out in the swamps after all."

Still, his question showed that he was at least open to the idea, which made Quato frown again.

"Don't worry too much about the details. Even far from home I have my connections to certain people. When the time comes for us to make our escape, everything will be prepared."

"Even so..."

"What are you still unsure about?" Mason righted his posture as his voice raised into a command.

"Your perceived loyalty towards that lord of yours? Now he has even conquered the secrets of purple dye, yet he refuses to share any of these treasures with us. Back when we came with him, our contract was cheap out of generosity, only because we did not expect he could pay us full price. Yet that king knew, he knew that he would soon achieve this sort of wealth and he ripped us off. Do you think that's fair? It's even worse for you, the local soldiers. Think about this, what else can that king give you? How is it fair that you are stuck as a 'warrior' forever? You can't even buy a shop or a piece of land, yet that king must be the richest man in the empire by now with all the rice and wheat his peasants have harvested. Yet he's paying you guys, his own countrymen, his own servants, even less than us. Where is the fairness in that? How has he ever repaid your loyalty?"

"That's..."

As Olacu looked confused, Quato's frown only deepened. Maybe this one wasn't so smart after all. How else could he fall for such simple deceptions? Though of course, greed could blind even the wisest of men.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Look, it's really quite easy." Mason's tone softened, his hands spread in an open gesture. "Do you stand with us, or do your stand against us?"

Not by accident, some of the foreign mercenaries in the corner of the room rattled their weapons. The entire estate was filled with Mason's men. The message was clear: Take the offer or die.

"Of course, I stand with you." His decision made for him, the Yaku officer finally ceded.

"Very good. In that case, I'll have you sign and seal a message to your men with some new orders. They'll follow us into battle within a few hours. By the time they realize their enemy are the king's men, they will already be engaged. By then, they will have no way back anymore. Do this for us, and I make you a member of the new wolf mercenaries, together with your own share of our loot. Rejoice. Survive this one fight, and it will feed you for the rest of your life."

"..." Olacu meekly nodded his head.

"Excellent." Now that all his pieces were in place, Mason turned to one of the mercenaries who had threatened the officer before. "Eslor, tell the men to get ready. There will be a guard exchange in a few hours, and all our men are in position. We're storming the castle at dawn."

Beyond the wall, Quato disappeared into the darkness again. Although he didn't have a concrete plan, he had to act soon. Time was running low.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

168 The Fog Clears

Before the morning hours, the bright of day had not yet shown, yet the dark of night had begun its retreat. Waters from among the Mayura River rose to blanket the city and add to the gray of the sky. Within this murky, gray fog, everything blurred together. With their presence hidden by nature itself, Mason's mercenaries marched their way across the city. Of course, even in this sort of weather, they should be found. Someone had to see them. However, it was as Mason had said: Many of the city's guards had already been taken over by the traitors, at least for tonight. Now, as the shift changed, most people on patrol were those loyal to the traitors. All they had to do was look the other way as an entire army walked past them.

With a settling dread he watched as the troops of foreign mercenaries were joined by more and more local warriors as well. By the time the troops crossed the bridge to Rapra Island, they had swelled to about five hundred or so. This was outrageous! Most of these troops were Medalan after all, men born and raised in Saniya. For now they had no idea about their goals and were only led along by their commanders. Even so, once they were faced with resistance from King Corco's loyal troops, they would have to fight to save their lives. Still the commanders remained silent as they led their men to their doom. There was an uneasy mood in the air. Though of course, none of these soldiers would dare speak up. For months, they had been trained to follow orders without question. After the king's effective training methods, they would never speak out based on some small doubts.

An annoyed frown covered Quato's face as he looked to the center of the formation, where the fat Mason walked, all proud of his cheap deception. At first, Quato had assumed that the quartermaster would stay behind in the training facility within the empty estate, while the soldiers launched their attack. In that case, he could have kidnapped the ringleader, uneartherd the plot in front of the king's loyal troops and put down the rebellion before even a single shot was fired. However, for some reason, Mason had decided to lead the troops himself.

All this time, Quato had expected Nahlen to show up, but he hadn't. In fact, the entire operation seemed a bit hasty in the warrior's eyes. Up until they had begun their march, the dead warrior Quato had taken the uniform from still hadn't been reported missing, a clear sign that the traitors were flustered.

While their disarray had made Quato's work easier, it also filled him with great unease. Their rash actions could only mean that they had spotted a rare weakness in the castle's impregnable defenses. And indeed: Even as they reached the front gate of Rapra Island, they were let through without a word. Already, the enemy stood at the foot of Rapra Castle, ready to storm. Once they made it beyond the gates and up the walls, the sparse guards would never be able to deal with this many enemies. The greatest fortress of the south, the one which hadn't even fallen during the civil war, would be taken just like that.

Once in charge of the castle, Mason would control the city's food supplies and the armory. At that point, the remainders of the city's inhabitants, as well as the king's local troops, could only join him, or face death.

*What a perfidious creature.*

Through the murky darkness, he saw Mason's grin shine as the traitor stared up to the object of his desire. It wouldn't be long now. There was only one last hurdle for them to cross before they would become unstoppable. And as if on cue, the doors to the castle's main gate labored open, as a steady creak escaped from its hinges. After decades of peace, the castle's gates hadn't been fully opened for far too long and the building screamed at the unusual treatment. While the core of his king's power was violated, it was time to make a decision. All this time, Quato had followed along without a proper plan, ever since his original plot had been foiled by Mason's presence and Nahlen's absence.

His fists clenched as the sound of the gate echoed in his ears. He rose from the shadows he had hidden within, ready to rush the enemy. Yes, he couldn't stop a charge all by himself. Yes, he couldn't fight an entire army. Yes, being caught would most likely cost him his life, and capture was inevitable once he stepped outside the shadows. However, that was a small price to pay in defense of his home, his House and his lord.

Even more, over weeks under the incompetence of his temporary master, a deep rage had built up within Quato's body. When all hope was lost, at least he could fight and kill to his heart's content. Better yet, he didn't have to win at all to achieve his goals. All he had to do was start a fight, and make enough noise to get the attention of the castle's defenders. Although there was no way to know who had already been won over by Mason, Quato could only hope that whoever manned the castle was still loyal to the king, and that not everyone had been infested by the greed of the foreigners yet. Maybe his cry of death would wake them up and return them to the fold.

By the time he had reached the edge of the bridge, the enemy troops had taken up formation at the mouth of the castle gate. It was now or never, no more time for hesitation. After a deep breath, maybe his last, Quato took a heavy step onto Rapra Island... and stopped. Before he could prove his honor, others had already begun to act, and it wasn't the traitors who were as confused as him. All of a sudden, noise swamped the mercenaries from all over the castle. Atop the walls, torches were reignited and illuminated hectic activity. Right before their eyes, the ancient gate of Rapra began to close again. A few troops shook off their confusion and rushed the gate, but after they had entered, the doors slammed shut with a deep scream of metal.

As the action began, Quato retreated back into the shadows. Before he acted and did more harm than good, he needed to understand the situation.

Still among his troops outside the gate, Mason seemed just as confused as Quato. "What's going on here!?" he shouted.

"Open the gates!"

Whoever had entered Rapra's doors replied only with screams of agony to echo the gates which had become their prison. At the same time, the first projectiles began to drop from atop the castle walls. Although they were as sparse as they were improvised, one stone dropped on a mercenary's shoulder and caused another scream, followed by harsh curses in a foreign tongue.

*Strange,* Quato thought, *how easy it is to understand raw emotion, even without words.*

While the ghost mused in safety, the soldiers at the gates raised their shields to protect themselves from the ambush, but their options were quite grim. In formation, they could hold out for a while, but for how long? Even if only five warriors manned the castle, the attackers would never capture the walls without siege equipment. Even worse, every second they wasted here was a second more for the king's troops to react. If they wasted too much time on Rapra Island, more forces would join and they would never leave again.

Diabolical glee occupied Quato's mind as he anticipated the traitors' next step. Their leader did not disappoint.

"Retreat," Mason screamed from the top of his lungs, as his voice cracked like his grin. "Back to the inner city!"

Quato understood the bandit's thoughts quite well. In his current position, there was no way to conquer the castle, so a retreat made sense. Even if they couldn't capture the castle, they could still hold the bridges against the troops from the castle and the inner walls against warriors from the outside, at least for a while. Time enough to get rich off the wealth of Saniya's people. Although the inner city wasn't nearly as rich as Rapra Castle, it was still more than enough for mortal men to squander for a lifetime.

*Retreat a bit, plunder the inner city and then retreat back into the swamp, to contact his secret co-conspirators. What a nice idea this Mason must have.*

With a grim smile, Quato observed the bandit's actions. Nothing was ever easy, ever less so in war. After all, the fatso was only a quartermaster, no proper commander. In the end, his order, and moreso the way it was voiced, would be his death sentence.

When their commander had announced their retreat, his trembling voice had told his troops of their chances, and the stones from above only reinforced his silent words. Once incited, the army, held together by greed, blackmail and confusion, fell back to their instincts. Without any semblance of order, the men began to blindly rush towards the bridge they had only just crossed. Like this, they would get lost in the city's streets to wreak havoc.

However, the defenders seemed to have prophetic gifts. Just as the enemy formation broke, Quato could see movement inside the guard houses along the bridge. Before long, a force of Medalan warriors spewed forth from both sides of the bridge. Unlike their panicked opponents, they soon got into formation, large shields and long axes before sturdy armor, ready to block the path of all traitors. Against a much smaller force, but organized and standing together, the traitors stood no chance.

Like loose sand thrown onto an oak tree, the enemy troops stumbled into the wall of iron and leather without effect. More and more screams of terrified men entered Quato's ear, as the traitor's scattered in the face of an immovable foe. And right in the front of that uncontrollable mob stood Mason, himself in no state to control his troops. His eyes flitted here and there, desperate to save his own hide, his men all but forgotten. As he rushed, he as well as the close allies around him began to swing their long poleaxes wildly. From somewhere within the mob, someone fired a shot to make the gate'sdefenders cower behind their reinforced shields.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Although heir actions reeked of desperation, it was still enough to make a difference. In the end, Mason, together with a handful of his allies, managed to escape onto the bridge before the two sides could link up and the defensive formation closed for good. The warriors of the king couldn't pursue them, preoccupied with the remnants of the attackers. Only a few more steps, and Mason and his gang would be able to escape into the alleys of the city. Then they could leave the walls in secret and at least regroup with the rest of their men in the camp. If nothing else, these few men could always sell themselves to the enemies of King Corco. All their knowledge would prove vital to their survival. If Quato was right about Nahlen's involvement, they could cause even greater damage.

Though of course, they had never expected one final trap. Neither had Quato, to be honest. However, when fate called upon him, he jumped at the chance to risk his life. As the traitors rushed past Quato's hiding spot behind one of the bridge's pillars, they didn't so much as look to their sides. Their minds occupied, they wouldn't have spotted him even if he had stood in bright sunlight. As his muscles tensed, Quato got ready for his next move.

*No more running, traitor.*

His agile legs shot the ghost forward without sound, while his eyes never lost sight of the main culprit. Only seconds later, he had tackled the fat Mason to the ground. No matter how much he weighed, fat was no replacement for true power.

"Save Master Mason!" someone shouted, but Quato's dagger was already at the traitor's neck.

"No one move! This charade ends here!" Exhausted from a night without sleep and his entire body still tensed from the ordeal of the final hours, Quato slowly stood back up, dragging Mason with him.

"Wait, whatever it is you want, I can give you just as much, no, double!" Mason squeaked, his confident facade long lost in the fog.

"What I wish, you cannot give me, traitor." With pride, Quato thoughts turned to his life's mission, to the lord he served. Right now, his king was risking his own life to guarantee the wealth and wellbeing of his subjects, truly a man worthy of respect, worthy of loyalty. If only King Corco could return soon, Saniya would return to stability. However, before the king came back, there were a few things Quato had to clear up by himself. Whatever had happened today had been planned by someone for a long time. His current master had a lot of questions to answer.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

169 Back Home

"What a mess you have caused. If this Chatra had known you would kill the Sword Saint, he would have locked you into his mansion and never let you out."

In his back, Corco could hear the sound of the ships being loaded. However, before he could join them he had to answer for his crimes. As he suppressed the little smile upon his successful plot, the king looked at his sister and his brother-in-law.

"Haah, I'm really sorry about this, brother-in-law. Still, I couldn't possibly have known that this young master xianxia was so petty. First he seeks us out by himself, eager to take us down for his own cheap revenge. I mean, I thought he had forgotten that tiny insult after all this time. Then, when he loses the fight, the ass even draws a weapon and tries to take me out in the confusion. If I hadn't been prepared in advance, I would have been the dead one, not him."

"Indeed, it was a close call for the Medalan men. While all the men of King Corco are as fine as he is, the Swordsaint has lost his life, as have almost all of his disciples. Fortuitous indeed." Sarcasm dripped from Huemac's voice, while Yasimi offered a calm look, only tinged in sadness. Still, what was done was done. At this point, they couldn't prevent the next actions any more even if they knew Corco's plan. The best he could do was warn his sister and her husband.

"Yeah, pretty lucky my men were in the crowd during the duel. Luckily those flower sect or whatever people weren't much or we might have had casualties. Though at least that scholar was still fine. A dead scholar in your city would have been a catastrophe..." It was something of an apology. At least Corco's men hadn't made things impossible for Huemac by sparing the loudmouth scholar. "It's just a shame that one disciple managed to escape. I'm sure he'll spread his message to his sect. Will you be fine when they come?"

"And as a result of the disciple's escape, all the doctors in attendance for the duel will have to leave the city, maybe even the empire. Who knows how much some minor disciple knew about the particularities of the duel? Most only know it was over a doctor who visited Hueatlan. As far as they know, they could soon be hunted as well, since they fit the description. Where will they flee to but across the sea, together with King Corco?" As he laid out Corco's plan before him, Huemac retained a calm smile, much different from the bitter anger the king had expected.

"It's just a shame that a lot of them have decided to be stubborn," he sighed. "Since their troubles were my fault, I've offered them amnesty in my country for a while, but only another six have chosen to take me up on it."

"Still six more than this Chatra had ever expected. Another fortuitous coincidence." Huemac narrowed his eyes.

"True, we really got a few lucky breaks this time. Still feel sorry for you though. Won't the sect people come and take revenge on your territory?"

"Yes, that is to be expected." Somehow, Huemac's unwavering smile began to unnerve Corco. He could feel his own business smile twitch as it tore at the edges.

"A shame that I can't help you out with that," he tried to get away, but felt that the hammer was about to drop.

"Oh, but you will, King Corco. This Chatra expects you to provide weapons, men and materials when it is time to fight the cultivators."

"Oh, and how will you pay for that? You already emptied your personal treasury and granary to get our ships filled with tea, silk and grain. Be honest, you got a secret stash somewhere?" he winked, but his usual gestures felt hollow even to himself.

"King Corco, of course these weapons will be a gift. How else would you ever trade your fake porcelain from Chutwa?" Huemac still retained his smile. Annoyingly, he reminded Corco a lot of himself. Maybe there was hope he'd get along with his sister after all.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"King Corco, while your men were busy assassinating the sect members, my own managed to take a look at your cargo hold. This porcelain is truly some impressive work, though distinctly not a Chutwa product. Though it is a mystery how a foreign country managed to copy Chutwa wares so well, this Chatra expects that King would use this Chatra's lands as an alibi of sorts, to pretend a country of origin for your imitations and drive up their value? After all, if others were to learn that a small kingdom had acquired knowledge of Chutwa glaze production, they would become the enemies of the entire, greedy world."

"...sure, you got me." Now that his entire plan had been revealed, there was little reason to hide anything. Huemac would have become involved sooner or later anyways, and the admission felt much better than the constant tension. "If you're not satisfied with the deal, I can always go to some other Chutwa lord though."

"Ahaha, that should prove problematic."

"And why is that?"

"The herbal bazaar of Hueatlan is a grand event in the east of Chutwa. For the occasion, many of the eastern Chatras send servants to participate and gather the rarest of herbs. It is indeed inopportune, but the representatives might have become witness to King Corco's little play with the sect members. Who would still work with a foreigner who has offended the greatest sect in the east?"

At last Corco realized: Huemac hadn't been surprised by Corco's actions, he had expected them, and made sure there were more than enough witnesses.

"You knew? You knew in advance?"

In shock, Corco looked over to Yasimi. Her eyes turned large as she shook her head with vigor.

"Brother, I said no word."

"Lady Yasimi has not wronged you, foreign king. King Corco should not underestimate others, it seems folly. In fact, this Chatra has long been fed up with the endless greed of the Flowing Water Sect. It was high time to burn away the weeds that have covered the east. However, how was this Chatra to do so without reinforcements, without support? To our great fortune, a strange visitor presented a solution. In the end, this Chatra let you act, because our goals aligned. There was no reason to oppose your plans, brother in law."

At last, Corco remembered Yasimi's words after they had first met in the Chatra's mansion. She had warned him not to underestimate others. Back then, he had considered it more general life advice, but it seemed like she had tried to warn him of her clever husband without betraying him outright. Huemac had been aware of Corco's plans, at least somewhat. Still, as he thought about the results, the arrangement did not seem too bad.

"So it seems like we're stuck together, huh? Now that I've offended just about every Chatra in the east, you're my only choice if I want to trade with the Chutwa Empire."

"And you are my only choice if this Chatra hopes to survive the onslaught of the sect and regain full control over his lands."

"Well then, to good cooperation." Corco grinned and tipped his nonexistent hat. After he had spoken his goodbyes to his clever sister and her suitable husband, he turned to march towards his fleet. Although there had been a few twists and turns, he had achieved all of his goals. It was high time he returned home. There was a war waiting for him, and only one more stop to make on the way.

__________________________

Stood atop the flagship of the Verdant fleet, Corco and Wacoca looked to the tropical islands in the distance. Soon they would be back on the lands of the Green King. The harbor was already closing in.

"In the end, you mostly filled the ship with silk, tea and medicinal herbs. You even brought more mouths to feed. I thought you needed food for your people?" Wacoca said.

"Well, triangular trade has always been more profitable, so I decided to just do that instead." Corco leaned on the railing, out into the winds. All the way here, they had been lucky with the weather. It was almost as if his visit to Chutwa had lifted a curse from his body.

"Triangular trade?" a confused Wacoca asked.

"Right, let me explain this." Happy to show off a bit, Corco turned to look at his student. "Your people want to trade with Chutwa too, right?"

"A bit difficult, since we are no tributary. The Chutwa will not even look at another kingdom unless they are subservients."

With a heavy thud, the ship docked along the harbor, before the sailors jumped up and down the ship to moor it to the pier.

"Yeah, but even though Medala isn't a subservient, I have access to their market, and I can give you guys access, too. Isn't that nice of me?"

"For a high price, I bet."

"Of course it won't be for free. Still, it's a good deal for both of us. Otherwise you won't get any access to those goods other than through plunder, and with the deal I planned with your father, you'll get a portion of the traded value as well. With the new trade route, I also have some more leverage to convince your father of my offer. As for me, I can buy way more food than before like this. I use Medalan goods to buy a lot of valuable stuff from Chutwa, and then use the Chutwa goods to exchange for even more food and other goods from here. It's like double value with a single trip."

For a while they were silent as they watched the men at work. Only when the sailors dropped the gangway did Wacoca speak again.

"Father dislikes being taken advantage of."

"It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. That's what the old man wanted after all. Your father doesn't strike me as a petty man. Is he one?"

"Well, I look forward to our cooperation."

"Yeah. Cooperation might actually come sooner than you imagine."

Corco grinned as they walked down the gangway, towards the small group of the green king's warriors who stood ready to welcome them. All the while he thought about his plans for the immediate future. Depending on the situation in the south, he might have to take advantage of more than just the food of the Verdant Isles. Although Wacoca looked like he wanted to ask about details, "What-," he was interrupted before he could finish even half a sentence.

"Brother! Welcome home!" From within the group of warriors emerged the verdant princess, all smiles. The little fairy in her green dress was soon followed by Mayu, fitting as he was her pursuer. However, they held a strange distance. Rather, Sumaci seemed determined to stay away from Mayu, while the young governor was either too prideful or too embarrassed to attempt his advances, at least in public. Corco could already feel the trouble.

"Sumaci, it is good to be back." Wacoca hugged his sister.

"How was the west?" Before her brother could even answer her first question, Sumaci had already rattled on. "If only I could have gone with you. It must have been a great adventure! Instead, I was stuck in these rags." With a derisive look, she plucked at her long, flowing dress. Although it was made up of many folds to show off the Green King's wealth, in all important parts, the cloth clung close to show off the young princess' curves. As far as Corco was concerned, those rags didn't look too bad.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"If you don't want to wear them, don't wear them," the king said to make his presence felt. For the first time since he had arrived, anyone within the welcoming committee took notice of Corco. Of course, the notice was only a derisive harrumph from the little princess.

"How could you know of the difficulties of women? I am not talking to you, oh great, important king." She turned back to Wacoca. "Brother, you should go to father right away and help me talk to him. This nonsense cannot go on!" Without another look at Corco or at Mayu, she turned and left for the palace. Although Mayu's hand twitched, ready to hold her back, he did nothing in the end.

"Please excuse her rudeness, King Corco, Governor Mayu." Wacoca bowed, but Corco just waved off the n-th excuse for Sumaci's disrespectful behavior. There was no need to create a political incident with a potential ally over a little girl.

"Whatever. Since your father needs you, I won't keep you here. Just go, we'll come a bit later. We still have to strengthen our new alliance, after all."

After Wacoca had left, a strange silence overcame the remaining warriors and their remaining masters. While Corco scratched his head, he observed how his cousin's face turned more and more sour as his eyes hovered from Sumaci's disappearing back over to him.

"...What the hell happened?" a bewildered Corco asked. "Weren't you supposed to get engaged to Sumaci? What about your marriage alliance? And what the hell is her problem anyways?" In fact, the more he thought about Sumaci's actions, the more annoyed he became. How had this girl managed to make trouble for him again already? He had only been back for a minute and she was creating an international incident. And why would she be angry with him out of nowhere? What the hell had he done wrong when he hadn't even been there?

"You did not make things easy for me, brother." Mayu's voice had the bite of a lemon. In response, Corco only sighed. All the travel had gotten him too tired for this crap.

"Please don't do the passive-aggressive riddle thing. I hate riddles."

After a while, Mayu seemed to understand that Corco was neither at fault nor in the know, so he calmed a bit and explained.

"The plans for an alliance went well at first. This governor spoke with King Hulpatec and he agreed to our union in principle. All that was needed was an agreement from the princess. Thus this Lord began to woo that stubborn girl."

"...but?" Corco tried to get them moving towards the palace, but an animated Mayu stood in his front and waved his arms about in anger.

"How could this lord ever hope win her heart when she only talks about strange things? From the very start, that girl had no interest in a marriage with this lord. All this time, she only made things difficult. This lord believes it was done deliberately so."

"And what has any of that to do with me?" He had already been tired, but now he was confused and annoyed as well. All the while, he thought back to Sumaci's unreasonable complaint from before. What was wrong with these two?

"...nothing." Mayu said after some hesitation. "Nothing at all. Truthfully, who would want to marry a disobedient girl like that? Not to mention one that looks so small and weak? How could she ever birth a strong heir?" A bitter look on his face, Mayu did his best to find excuses for his failure.

"Whatever man, there's many fish in the sea, as they say." Strangely enough, it was an expression both worlds seemed to share.

"But we still need to reinforce our alliance with the Verdant Isles," Mayu said. "This lord has failed the south."

"Ah, that's fine. You don't need to build your family planning around the needs of the country if you don't want to. Since we can't talk to them as family, we'll just have to do it as business partners." As his thoughts turned to his cargo, his mood improved right away.

"So the trip to Chutwa has been a success?"

"More or less, though we've been amassing debt, which is a bit of an issue. Non-monetary, but that's even worse somehow. Still, we've collected enough cards to get what we want from Hulpatec. I'll go visit the old man as soon as he's done pressing his son for secret information on me. We'll stay another day or four until everything is negotiated and all the supplies are loaded, then we return home. Still gives you some time to try your luck with Sumaci if you really can't let go. And if all else fails, I'm sure those two siblings will come back to Saniya again, since our marriage alliance hasn't worked out yet. That's only a day or two from Puscanacra. Plenty of chances to swing by. I won't let you harass my student though, so stay respectful" Although Corco tried to lighten the mood with a joke and a wink, Mayu's face pulled down even further, as if he had swallowed a bug together with the lemon.

"We should just get out of here." Short-bound in his words, Mayu sped towards the palace, maybe to show his anger and maybe to hide his embarrassment. In the back, Corco's wasn't sure if his cousin had talked about the pier or the Verdant Isles, not that it mattered. Already, his thoughts had left the troubled lovers and turned to his home. For now Medala was still as messy as a failed relationship. It was time to get home and clean up.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

170 Cleanup

Another day, another morning spent on a ship. At first, Corco really had hated the constant sway of the ship. However, a ship's journey was normal during the great age of exploration, an era they stood on the precipice of. By now, he had learned to endure and ignore the worst of the unsteady planks, though his mood atop a ship was never good. He really didn't like the lack of control, the feeling of being exposed to destiny. After all, it was his sworn enemy.

As he tried to stretch his nervous thoughts away, he left his cabin and reached the main deck. The day was beautiful and the weather clear, a deadly combination at high seas. Though while the sails flopped down without support from the wind, the ship still made decent progress along the great streams of the Verduic Sea. Even better than their speed was the familiar look of the black- and white-patterned castle in the distance.

From this angle, Corco began to understand much better why Rapra Castle was widely considered impregnable. Situated on a large island within the mouth of the Mayura, the strong outflow from the river made a fast approach almost impossible. Even if a ship managed to reach the island, the castle's sturdy, raised walls of cobbled stone covered almost the entire island, save for a small portion at its southern end. Now they had even added cannons, and could shoot almost the entire way across the Narrow Sea. Like this, they held complete control over the small inlet sea and the surrounding lands.

Satisfied, he looked from his home over the rest of their fleet. On their return, the number of ships had swelled quite a bit, though none of the new ones were really his. Rather, they were parts of the green king's navy. How else would he transport all the food, coal and cloth they would need over the winter? With these supplies, and more importantly these ships, they would be able to end the war eventually, though he didn't plan to use the ships unless he didn't have a choice. In the end, their position was now much stronger than Pacha's. While they only needed a few troops to hold Qarasi, Pacha would continue to burn through his wealth to support his giant army, while Corco didn't have any more pressure now that his lack of supplies had been resolved.

When Pacha froze off his butt in the Narrows until he got tired of his war games, maybe Corco could spend some more time with his friends and plan the future of the world in peace. Wouldn't that be something? The thought of peace and progress relaxed his nervous look at last. He was happy to get to dry land again, he was happy to provide for his people and he was happy to resolve their crisis, but more than anything, he was glad to see his friends again. It had been too long. He hoped they were doing as well as him.

__________________________

For the first time since he had left, the king's study was illuminated. However, neither of the two men inside were the king. No one dared sit in the king's chair, not even his friend. To the side of the large desk with the empty seat and the powerful books behind was a small arrangement of padded benches, where one of the men sat in front of a steaming cup of tea.

"Why was I not informed of anything? What happened back there, at the foot of Rapra Castle?" Too upset to even use honorifics or his usual, stiff attitude, Quato marched up and down the room, while Ronnie observed with a calm face.

"It was an attempt to snuff out trouble before it would happen," he said in a voice that would not further upset the loyal servant. "And you could not know because you were assigned to the castle, by Master Corco no less. The castle has wolf mercenaries everywhere, and other foreigners as well. With you running around in front of Mason's people all the time, how could I let you in on the secret, and risk everything?"

"But you were so... oblivious!" Mason shouted out. No doubt he referred to Ronnie's time in the laboratory.

"First of all, I believe that is no way to speak to someone of superior status." Ronnie stood up. Together with his harsh tone, it made Quato stop in his tracks.

"This servant apologizes." Without hesitation, he shot out his response. On the other hand, Ronnie had to spend a few moments to stare him down, just to make sure. He had never seen the servant so riled up. There might be a need to explain in more detail.

"Alright. Second, I had to appear oblivious. How would we have ever lured those wolves out of hiding if they hadn't smelled blood?" A smirking Ronnie thought back to his days in the lab, when he had coordinated information from all the various ghosts in the city in between experiments. Of course he wouldn't really be oblivious to the movements of the traitors. After all, he had suspected Nahlen and Mason of wrongdoings much earlier than anyone else.

"But your actions put the city in danger."

Now that Quato had calmed, Ronnie sat back down in front of his tea, his voice relaxed.

"No, letting it fester any longer would have been a danger. At least now we have managed to deal with the worst of the king's problems. This way, he does not have to concern himself with these petty people once he returns."

"Master Bombasticus!" A sudden voice boomed through the halls and penetrated the king's study, soon followed by steps.

"And speaking of petty people, here comes the next one." With more force than was necessary, Nahlen, the tall mercenary burst into the room.

"What is the meaning of this?" he shouted, his finger raised to the city's administrator.

While Ronnie remained seated, Quato stepped in front of his temporary master, his hand on his axe. At least Nahlen wasn't armed inside the castle, though one never knew if he would hide a secret dagger somewhere.

"Step back, traitor." Still unconvinced, Nahlen's anger was plain on his face, but at least he no longer closed in on Ronnie. His finger still raised high, he shouted at the chemist.

"Release my men at once!"

"'Your men'? You mean to say that those who attempted to conquer Rapra Castle and pillage Saniya can be considered yours? Are you admitting guilt?" Ronnie's tone was light, but his words were heavy.

"What guilt?" Still defiant, the wolf's growl voice had lost power. "They were tricked, entrapped. From what I heard, this entire charade was set up by the king's men. How could this be a fair assessment of their loyalty? What man would not grasp for a bag of coins when it is dangled in their front?"

"A true man." Quato answered. Only for a moment, the wolf growled towards the servant, before he turned to the master again. Ronnie leaned back, unimpressed.

"Let us not play games. The truth is: Mason would have never managed to organize such a large attack so soon if he hadn't begun his plans long before Corco left the country. Even I understand as much, so the current leader of the local forces should understand as well. Quartermaster Mason is guilty of his crimes, and anyone who denies it will be marked as suspicious as well."

"We're not your king's men, we stand under different rules." Again the wolf's narrowed eyes turned to Quato. "You say that a true man would not take the gold, but I say only a free man ever could. As we are not the warriors of King Corco, you have no right to try us under his laws. I demand you hand over Mason and the others. If they are guilty, they will be punished by the code of the wolf mercenaries, not by this charade you call the king's law."

In the distance, bells sounded, to laugh and mock the attempts of the mercenary.

"It seems best you leave now. You as well, Quato. The bells have announced the king's return. Let's see what Master Corco has to say about all of this."

After the troubling servants had left, Ronnie picked up his tea. It was already cold.

__________________________

"I've gotten some basic information on my way up. It seems like you had a lot of fun while I was gone."

In his seat, Corco always felt bigger than he actually was, even though the chair wasn't built especially high.

"Indeed. This master believes he managed to isolate Master Corco's purported 'vanillin'. Even better, Qispi the glassblower has, through your instructions, managed to create a glass bead of sufficient roundness to unearth the 'secret world'. Though I have taken a look myself, I am... unsure of what I have seen, unsure what to think. Unsure we ought to look further."

Even though Ronnie across from him should know what Corco had referred to when he had mentioned 'fun', he answered in a more agreeable manner. The king really didn't mind an easier topic than revolt to start of with. This was why he always liked his talks with Ronnie.

"So we're moving in on proper microscopes, huh? That's fitting, since I just managed to score us some proper doctors. Let's blow their minds, huh?" He laughed, even though he knew that Ronnie wasn't quite in on the joke.

"It appears your journey has been a success. Then what of the supplies?"

"We've brought more than enough food to last us a good while longer, and we now have a decent trade route to get more."

"That would make two then. Two trade routes." Ronnie smiled, no doubt happy to correct the king who always did the same to him.

"My cousin?" Corco guessed.

"Yes, captain Atau has sent us word through a runner a few days ago. He has established contact with the cities of the bronze coast and managed to evade the ships of Borna through the open sea. However, since Borna controls the east coast from Porcero to Port Ulta, he had to moor in Tocllaraju, all the way to the south of the eastern coast, just north of the Eternal Ice. Though since Port Ulta has been infested by those of Borna and Cahlia, he has been forced to take the land route through ice and snow. Without any accidents, the supplies will reach the city within a half moon."

*So about two weeks,* Corco thought with a widening smile, happy he would not have to resort to drastic measures.

"That's perfect! That means we're rid of Pacha's pressure and can develop at our leisure. Now my good uncle has no more power over us."

"That... would not quite be the case." As he felt Ronnie's unease, Corco's grew in turn.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"...who's in trouble?" he asked in a deepened voice. "Brym? Inri?"

"No, young Brymstock has done well indeed. Although he is in the constant presence of Duke Herak's men, he has managed to strike a deal with the northern king. His safety has been guaranteed, as has that of our property in the northern kingdom. The younger sister is safe as well, untroubled in the capital as she replaces her brother in her work."

"Wait, 'replaces'? Fadelio still isn't back?" He should have felt shock, but he felt almost nothing. To Corco, the idea that Fadelio was in any trouble he could not solve felt almost surreal. Still, Ronnie confirmed his fears.

"Although Lady Tamaya has attempted to free her brother, it appears as if her attempts have so far not yielded any results. She seems to have been unable to save her brother, the ghost warriors or any of the trapped craftsmen. By now, she has been forced to return to Qarasi Castle. Still, they are safe, protected by Lord Nasica."

"...for now. What's Pacha been up to?" More information. He needed much more if he wanted to avoid a hasty decision, one based on emotions.

"Still stuck in the Narrows. He has attempted another storm at the castle, with no results but a few thousand lost commoners. Though Tamaya has sent reports that the peacock king may grow restless soon."

"Well... fuck. I actually wanted to wait this nonsense out until he runs out of patience and supplies. Then we might be able to strike a decent deal with Pacha and avoid a long and costly war that would only benefit the outsiders. Turns out I was too naive again, huh?" A sad smile formed on Corco's face. Of all the things he wanted the least, a civil war among his people was high on the list. Him being the aggressor in it was even higher.

"Then what are your plans?" Tentative, Ronnie asked.

"What else? We go on the offensive."

"...but the mercenaries are still... troublesome." Although they had avoided the conversation up to now, they really couldn't do so any longer. Corco sighed as he realized the same.

"Yeah, I've gotten a report on my way here. So Mason tried his luck, did he?"

"Indeed he did. Though I suspect Nahlen was holding the troops with mixed loyalty in the camp outside until it was too late, there is no proof of any wrongdoings from Nahlen's side. Thus, he has not been held for now."

"Good, he can't be." Corco tapped his upper lip, as always when he thought hard. "We're still at war, and our cold war is gonna heat up again soon, despite winter. We can't have any infighting now."

"So Nahlen will go unpunished?" Ronnie's eyes turned sharp. Clearly he was unhappy with the king's decision.

"I can't well demote him without any proof, can I?" An unmoved Corco shrugged. "How will I justify that in front of the other mercs? If they're not convinced of his guilt, I'll look like a tyrant and the mercenaries will only make more trouble. No, Nahlen will get a promotion. I'll keep him close to me, in charge. With responsibility, he'll get enough chances to make mistakes. No worries, you'll see him punished soon enough. Just not for this."

Still unwilling, Ronnie showed a rare frown.

"Then what about Mason? Will he be pardoned as well? Nahlen has insisted on his release, that he be tried by the mercenaries."

"Good, let's do that." Corco clapped and smiled. This was easier than he thought.

"...Master Corco, with my respect, that is nonsense! Mason is Nahlen's man. If we hand him over, he will receive no more than a slap on the wrist and they will be able to plan their next move from the shadows, maybe already during the upcoming conflict."

"Who says Nahlen gets to judge him?" Corco grinned a crooked grin. "Nahlen's not the leader of the wolves, no matter how much he wants to be. I'll let Dedrick decide what to do with Mason. He'll know what's best for him and he'll make the right decision."

For a while there was silence in the room. As Ronnie stared at his ice-cold tea, Corco went through his next steps in his head. It wouldn't be fun or easy, but his chances seemed better than even.

"Then that means we'll to times of war once more?" Ronnie asked at last, with a tired voice and slumped shoulders. As a proper man of science, he would enjoy peace far more, a quiet place to search for whatever truth he eyed that week.

"We never really got out of the war in the first place. Rather, I aim to end this nonsense as soon as I can."

"But our army is much smaller, mostly made of mortals. While Pacha might lack control over his emotions, he still commands twice our numbers, and all proper warriors with cultivation, rather than mortals with guns."

Although Corco felt like Ronnie underestimated the power of guns in a large battle, he wouldn't need to make Ronnie nervous here. The guy wasn't a soldier anyways.

"We don't need to fight him directly. No need to crush his army, which is made up of my people anyways. All we need to do is make him move from his spot, create enough space for Fadelio and the craftsmen to get out of Nasica's territory. Once they return south and Pacha loses his last bit of leverage, he loses the war."

"Make him move? But he is entrenched in the Narrows, with no way past. We cannot even oppose him in his entrenchment, how will we force him into action."

"Well, you know what they say: You gotta fight uncle with uncle. Have someone call Tamaya back. Seems like I'll have to make another trip right away."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

171 Exiles

Through the morning mist, a single ship sailed across the calm waves that were so typical of the Narrow Sea. Though a ship it was, and on the sea it sailed, it was in no state to be called seaworthy. Decrepit, infested with fungus above and barnacles below water, old Namu's barge had seen better days. Way back when, many decades ago, the ship had been brand new, handed over to the then-young Namu to fulfill his duties. And dutifully he fulfilled them today as well, as always. Yet this time, something was different from before. For the first time in years, he had brought a visitor to the lonely island.

When the ship ran aground the sands of the shallow beach, the prince's men already stood ready to take his wares, as usual. Though not only supplies from the mainland touched the shores of the lonely island. No, old Namu's guest did as well. With a short nod at the ferryman, the stranger jumped down the barge and into the ankle-deep water. Of course, the locals were unhappy to see the stranger wade towards them and invade their lands.

"Halt! Even as the delivery boy, no one is allowed on this island, on the emperor's orders! Yet a stranger dare land as If he owned the lands of Imperial Prince Eclestius? You dare defy the emperor?"

"The emperor is dead," the stranger said and showed a shiny silver trinket from within his long sleeve. As they saw the symbol, the servants halted in their steps. Only a woman from the back stepped ahead to remain an obstacle.

"Even so, no stranger is allowed to come here, no matter what banner they bear." Tall for a woman, she appeared quite young, no older than twenty-five. Although she was pregnant, maybe in her last trimester, her stance was as fierce as her eyes, ready to fight off the invader.

"Then what about him?" With a casual flick of his hand, the stranger pointed at old Namu. While the robed man had been stuck here, the old ferrier had left his ship to help unload the cargo, while he chatted with the locals.

"Old Urmo is no stranger. He is a dear friend. For as long as we can remember, he brings us not only food and drink and clothing and firewood, but also precious tales from lands far away, once every twenty days. Should we not extend a hand of hospitality to an old friend?"

"Well, I'm no stranger either, not really. We're family after all." Corco lifted the hood of his robe to reveal his face. "You must be my cousin, huh? Sorry, but I don't know your name, I'm not well-informed about the situation on the lost islands. Still, I really need to meet with uncle Eclestius. Tell him King Corco has come to make an offer. I'm sure he can make an exception and meet me this once."

Once he mentioned his name, his cousin looked none the happier, but still sent out a servant. They did not talk while they waited, Corco covered in suspicious stares.

A while later the servant returned to bring the local ruler's answer. Guided by the pregnant lady of the house, Corco was led through the yards. Fancy, but a bit out of fashion, they overlooked the entire lordship of Prince Eclestius. There was great beauty in the craggy cliffs and reefs in the distance, as there was within the sway of the long grass around the estate. Though the lordship was beautiful, it was a tiny, empty realm, bereft of people, save for the ones in this very mansion. Though the king tried to make conversation, he could feel that the young lady had nothing but suspicion to offer, so he let her be until they reached the goal of their journey.

Soon the lady had left Corco seated across from a man who looked no older than himself, with short hair and a long beard. Though he was his family, he looked more like Amautu than himself.

"Hello, uncle Eclestius," the nephew said with a smile and a tiny bow.

"This lord greets King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac and welcomes him into his home." Though the speech was formal and distant, Corco didn't care much. He hadn't come here to reconnect. Thus he sat down across from the prince without another word of greeting.

"You're wearing your hair short," Corco noted instead.

"This prince has never been a warrior, so he will not wear their sigils. There are no axes on the lost islands either. Not even for cutting wood." Of course Corco had known about the axes. A complete absence of any weapons was one of many paranoid rules the emperors of Medala had instated over the years to keep their kin from taking revenge.

"I don't think there's need to be so formal, is there? We're family, after all." Corco spread his arms in an open gesture, but the prince remained unmoved, glued to his seat.

"Yet we have never met before today."

"Of course we haven't. By the time I was born, you had already been exiled, and by the time I was old enough to visit, I had been exiled too."

"Ah, what a cruel fate it is, this exile." For the first time, Prince Eclestius looked out of the window with a wistful gaze, something more than hostility and suspicion.

"You've still got it better than the princes before you. Much better, I'd say." In fact, Corco's father had been quite lenient with his brothers. There were only three possible fates for princes of Medala who didn't become emperors. First, for the ones who had openly fought for the position of emperor themselves or had an especially vengeful brother, they would be taken out. Though this was rarely done. Much more common was a fate of exile on one of the many small islands along the coast of Medala. Although there was always a chance the brothers would return with the help of some overambitious lords, the exiled had little incentive to rebel.

Even as almost landless princes, they retained their prince status, equivalent to a lord, and were still allowed to train in the ancient family techniques. By the time they turned seventy, like all lords, their exile would be lifted and they would be inducted into the Ancestral Hall, to become the power behind the throne. Not only would this guarantee their loyalty when they were still young enough to rule themselves, they would also bolster the numbers of the Pluritac family within the Hall to guarantee their influence.

Of course, any emperor also had the option to employ the other princes as generals or advisors, though that was rarely done.

"Yet he took none of us under his wing when he ascended," Eclestius said.

"When my father ascended, you were ten, far too young to take up any sort of function within the court. Those brothers of yours were old enough, but tried their hardest to kill him. The emperor would have been an idiot to give them authority after that. In the end, he only stayed close to one member of his family, and it cost him his life."

While Corco brooded over the betrayal of Caelestis, Eclestius remained quiet. The king wasn't sure what the prince thought about his own father, about the coward and weakling who still threatened to destroy their house, but he appeared uncomfortable, with a deep frown on his face.

"Do you hate my father?" Corco asked, willing to switch topics. Who would want others to talk poorly of their own father, no matter what they had done?

"By the time this prince was old enough to be aware of his surroundings, your father was already a great hero among the lords. Already he had distinguished himself on the political arena, and shortly after, he became a great general in his fight against the southerners. To be honest, we never had enough contact to foster emotions as strong as hate. Though after my exile, I did resent him, for a while."

"And now?"

A sigh let Eclestius' brows smoothe.

"Upon this blasted rock, one has ample time to reflect. A quiet life is not so bad, even more so now, when the outside is plagued by constant troubles. When I see brothers tear each other apart, I am glad to be born too late to be involved in succession."

"You're strangely well informed for someone who is supposed to be exiled." Corco chuckled. The elderly ferryboy must have kept the islanders connected to the outside world, a small solace for those left behind by the world.

"Is this your cause here, King Corco? Do you intend to jail me for my crimes? Or my ferryboy?" Eclestius sat upright as he put strength in his voice. Only now did Corco realize how tall his uncle was.

"That would be a wasted trip for a king, wouldn't it?" he asked back, unimpressed by the show of force.

"Then why are you here, king?" the prince slumped back into his seat, and his voice calmed again. "If you do not mind my asking?"

"Soon, I intend to fight King Pacha head on and end the war."

"Congratulations, King Corco. Though please tell: How does it concern to do my lonely island?"

"Pacha's holed up in the Narrows, with his entire army. He's even built a pretty decent fortification. I can't attack them head on. I can, however, go around his army and strike his heartland directly. All I need to do is cross the appropriately named Narrow Sea. Just a short skip across and I'll be there. I already have the ships ready."

"Yet the Narrow Sea is dotted with the islands of exiled princes, current and former. No armies can get near the islands, so crossing the sea is not permitted, by law of the ancestors." With a keen eye, Eclestius spotted the crux of the issue. If he didn't want to offend the traditional forces of Medala, he would have to uphold the rules, like he had done so far.

"Unless you and your family give me express permission to pass within your lands, yes." Corco nodded in response. "I don't even need direct support. You only need to ignore the presence of a couple ships passing through your area. That's enough."

"...and what of my family? What happens should you lose the war?" his chin in his hand, the prince's calm eyes observed Corco's every move. Once again, his practice as a 'great seer' paid off. "I won't. I've beaten Pacha before, no more than a year ago, and I can do it again."

"Though I am no expert in combat, and not well informed on the details, I believe King Pacha would already expect King Corco's brash attack, should he not? At least a crossing does not seem far-fetched. King Pacha should have a plan in place to deal with these eventualities."

"Well, as a great philosopher once said: Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face," Corco grinned at his own joke. "War is messy, and you can't always plan the details. Even if he has scouts trained on the sea, Pacha has no fleet in the west. All of those ships belong to House Ichilia, and Lord Divitius won't support Pacha until the great King of the Center loses a fight or three. Makes him easier to control. So even if our movements are noticed, Pacha won't be able to move his army east in time to prevent our landing."

Again, Prince Eclestius raised his body. This time it didn't seem like an attempt at intimidation. This time, he was willing to negotiate.

"Then comes the most important question: Why should I risk my life, and that of my family, for a nephew I have never met, to support his war against other nephews I have never met?"

"Well, for starters, Pacha isn't your nephew. He's your brother. That's a secret so open that even you should have heard about it. And he isn't only your brother, he is also vengeful, and paranoid. What do you think Pacha will do with his remaining brothers once he sits the throne?" Corco grinned. He knew Pacha would always be a danger to the remaining sons of Caelestis, and he knew that they were aware of it as well.

"So long as the standstill between kingdoms continues, King Pacha will not sit the silver throne, and neither will any other king," Eclestius answered. "Why would I weigh the scales in any direction when the current position suits me fine?"

"Well, seems like you're not as well-informed as I thought. Any day me and the idiot waste our time and resources on this pointless battle, Amautu's advantage grows. And for you, Amautu's ascension would hardly be any better than Pacha's. Both of them stand against tradition, and tradition is all that keeps your family alive. If Pacha becomes Emperor, he will most likely eradicate the princes on the islands, and maybe even try and make away with the family system.

If Amautu becomes emperor, he will replace all warriors in administration with scholars, Chutwa style. There will be no room for you in his advisory. Even worse, both of them plan to get rid of the Pacha faith, and replace it with their own false idols. Is that what you want, the destruction of our ancient customs and traditions at the hands of your own family?"

"Tradition has kept us safe, yet it also dooms us to rot away, bit by bit, generation by generation." Deep-seated bitterness had invaded the prince's voice. This was indeed the greatest problem the exiled princes faced, and it was also the best way for Corco to get what he wanted.

"True," he nodded, accompanied by a widening smile. "You're a former prince, and in terms of status, you can be considered a lord's equal. Though as an exile, your children can only be warriors. Even worse, their own children, your grandchildren will be commoners, nothing more, forced to leave the island. But I can change that. I can offer you or any of your children a position among my warriors, to retain their status for future generations. Since sentiments and traditions will not move you, this will be my offer: A future for your family."

"Why me? Why not one of the others?" Eclestius had shrunk into an uncomfortable positions as his body twisted in thought. He still looked unconvinced, still suspicious.

"Although we have never met, I did my homework, or at least my spymaster did. You are too young. When my father sat the throne, you weren't even a grown man yet, so you never really fought. There should be much less animosity between us than there is between me and the older princes. Also, you have children."

Like a spring, Eclestius unfurled his posture and jumped up, as his voice boomed through the room. "You dare threaten mine? Even if you are a king, it is not something to be forgiven."

Though it had of course been a threat, this wasn't something Corco would tell the prince. Neither that he was only the third candidate for the crossing. They had gone with someone less obvious, since Tama assumed that the other kings might have placed their own informants on the more likely islands.

"Cool your jets, uncle," he said, still calm. "I'm not here to threaten you. I'm here to make you an offer, make you understand. As a Pluritac prince, you were destined to be emperor, and you practiced the World's Embrace, the family's cultivation technique. You are over ten years my elder, yet you look like my brother, maybe even like my younger brother with all the R and R you've been getting up here. In twenty years, you will still look the same as you do now. Your daughter will die long before you do. She will never learn the mysteries of House Pluritac and die long before you, but at least you can guarantee her a life of comfort."

Again, all tension left the prince's body as he stared down Corco, who still continued his speech..

"But she carries a child now. What about your grandchild then? It will be born a commoner, with no right to learn cultivation. Your own flesh and blood will be forced to leave the island, and with it your protection. Then, by the time you turn seventy, in many decades, you will be allowed to leave by yourself. Maybe you will even meet your lost offspring again, but is that what you want? Do you want to see your grandchild die gray-haired and broken, as he kneels in the mud to harvest the rice of another lord? If you want to avoid your fate, I'm your only bet. Don't you think your grandchild's future is worth gambling your present for? That's what I can give you."

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"So could your brothers." Though still defiant, Eclestius had calmed down a lot. His answer was weak, and they both knew it.

"But they don't need you, and they don't want you. I do, just this once. So take your chance, or watch your legacy crumble to dust before your eyes."

Corco stood up and left without another word. He knew he had won. An hour later, Eclestius agreed to let Corco's fleet pass the island. Just in time, as his fleet was already on its way to pick him up, his army in tow. They had to move fast if they wanted to avoid the enemy spies. By the time Pacha got hold of the information, it would already be too late.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

172 Landing Operation

Dark clouds stormed. Some men sat in their boats that would lead them straight into the battle with a shiver all over their body. Some sat in silence and prayed. Some rocked back and forth. Soon they would join their brothers on the battlefield. Bullets flew across and brought invisible death to anyone who dared enter their territory. The high-pitched whistle of artillery fire was easier to make out, but its impact no less deadly. In brave desperation, the men stormed up the sandy beaches to enter the land. They paid their entry in blood.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Or at least that was what Corco had expected, based on some popular movie depictions. Maybe his other life hadn't prepared him as well as he thought, at least not in every regard. In truth, the journey across the Narrow Sea had been pretty uneventful, as was the landing, so far.

Rows upon rows of soldiers passed the shallow water of Sinchay and trudged up the sandy beaches and finally onto the green land, where the roots of the plants had managed to hold the land together against the water's constant erosion. All of it happened under the watchful eye of their king, and the people under his command. On a small hill overlooking the entire beach, they had erected a temporary tent, until the camp would be completed.

"Where are all the machine gunner nests?" Corco searched for the hidden enemy emplacements. How would they use their hand grenades if not to get rid of the bunkers?

"I believe the birds have traveled north over the winter," Tamaya answered with a sweet smile that told Corco that she had no idea what he was talking about, but still tried to humor him.

"No, that's..." First he raised a finger and tried to explain his joke, but didn't even know where to begin. Defeated by the girl's smile, his hand dropped as his voice deflated. "Never mind."

Rather than bother with movie references before the invention of photography, the king turned to another of his close aides.

"How far along are we?" he asked the man who had just received a report of supplies and men and checked it at the tent's exit.

"King Corco, it appears the men will be able to unload everything before nightfall." Nahlen answered and looked up from his list. "There have been no delays so far."

"And the camp?" Corco asked the main question. Some ways away, the soldiers had begun to use the shovels and logs they had brought with them to construct a fortified wall.

"As you can see, the men have already begun the establishment of the encampment. We will have the basic accommodations ready by midnight, long before there is any threat of a counterattack."

"Good work. You keep keeping an eye out for our keep, huh?" Corco made what he considered a joke.

"As you wish, King Corco." Without even pretending to laugh, the mercenary bowed and left. Ever since the failed revolt, Nahlen had become much more respectful around Corco, more careful.

"Well, I thought it was funny," the king shrugged and looked over to Tamaya with raised brows which brimmed with expectation. "It was funny, right?"

"Do you wish to hear the truth or flattery?" This time her smile was different, a light smirk around the corners which showed her disapproval for the 'joke', though she still played along.

"Never mind," he repeated. For some reason, he began to laugh and Tama's smile grew larger as well. After a while he had calmed down again and they could focus on more important issues.

"King Corco, I do not intend to impose my views upon you, however..." As she spoke, Tama took Nahlen's previous position and looked out of the tent, towards the camp and its busy soldiers. "Was this truly wise?"

"Was what wise?" he asked, certain about her question already.

"Was it truly wise to trust that mercenary, Nahlen? Although I have not been in Saniya during the revolt, I have seen the reports. I believe his presence will be a considerable risk, evben more so in a time of war."

Corco just smiled and waited for her to continue.

"Not that I would doubt your judgment, King Corco." With large eyes and a high-pitched voice, the girl turned to him and waved her hands around in denial. "I am sure we will win any battle even with a bit of dead weight attached to our ankles. However... this servant is fearful of our efficiency. If Nahlen is not part of our command structure, I am convinced that many deaths can be prevented. These are good soldiers, and we do not have many of them."

"Well, I can't just demote Nahlen without a good reason or I get problems with the rest of the army. But sounds like a solvable problem, doesn't it?" Corco's smile deepened. "Isn't this your area of expertise anyways?"

"Pardon?" Physically taken aback, Tama took a step to steady herself, a look of surprise on her face.

"I think this is a great chance to put your talents to the test, again. You think you can come up with a clean solution for this mess? Preferably one which will not cost us too much money or men and doesn't compromise the loyalty of the wolves?"

For a moment, Tamaya stood there with a dim expression on her face, as she twirled one of her long locks between her slim fingers. All the while, Corco only waited and watched. He could practically see the gears turning in her head. It was pretty fun. At last, the girl's face lit up from the light bulb over her head. Of course it didn't really appear, but Corco thought it might as well have.

"I know! I believe King Corco will enjoy this solution to the problem..." Her voice blurred as her expression dimmed. "though I cannot tell you any details, I am afraid."

"You can't tell me?" Both eyebrow raised to indicate his surprise and suspicion, Corco had no idea where Tama was going with this.

"Of course I could explain the details and will do so if ordered. However, it would be better if King Corco did not know too much about this issue. The solution I have found is... unorthodox, and might draw some ire from the people if they were to find out about it. However,King Corco needs to be a shining beacon for the people, and someone who can be trusted and respected. As such, it would be best if king were removed from this matter as far as possible. This way, you can deny any wrongdoing and save the reputation of the office even in case of failure."

For a while Corco just stared at her again. Ever since Tama had been involved in Fadelio's plot during the succession war, Corco had been suspicious of her. Things had only gotten worse once they had traveled south together and he had seen just how big her influence on the ghost warriors was, back then one of only two fighting forces at the king's disposal. Time and again, he had tried to test her loyalty. Time and again, she had proven worthy of trust. Even so, Corco had done his best to remove Tama from her men, reduce her influence and power.

At this point, any more distrust would be nothing less than paranoia. There was no reason to further limit her influence, or to limit her effectiveness. It had been a while, but Corco decided to properly, honestly trust someone.

"Okay, why not." With a casual expression, he shrugged his shoulders as if he hadn't just made a massive decision. "Surprise me. Just tell me what you need and you'll get it. Let's hope everything goes smoothly."

"Yes, King Corco." Her smile returned as a gratified Tamaya bowed her head. Though when she looked back up, she had calmed herself already.

"There are other issues that need discussing, King Corco."

"Right, shoot," Corco said.

"We have already established a solid perimeter around the landing site to guarantee we will not be spotted too early. In the process, our men have caught a few people in the vicinity. Most were only fishermen and merchants, but there were a handful of warriors as well. Even worse, they have spotted a few others in the distance, who ran at the mere sight of our men. Despite our best efforts, it appears as if our actions will not remain secret to the local powers for long."

"That's to be expected, isn't it? If we could beat out the local intelligence on day one, I'd have to question the competence of these local families. By the time they reach any of the surrounding cities, our walls are built anyways, with us safe behind them." Unfazed by the news, Corco stretched out his back. "Plus, we want Pacha to know we're here after all. We need him to leave his encampment and run after us. With our troops assembled, he won't be able to do much even if he rushes here from the Narrows."

On fleet feet, Tama rushed over to Corco and offered a cushion for his back.

"Yet our troops are not here yet, so we are still vulnerable. Especially the troops of the other southern lords are still left in the south, as they wait along the shores."

"Thank you," he said as he took the cushion he didn't really need.

Even though Corco had brought additional ships from the Verdant Isles, they still didn't have enough to move their entire massive army in one batch. Since the operation had been planned on short notice, most of the southern lords had been caught of guard by Corco's sudden orders. In order to avoid any delays, he had decided to send his own men first and then transport the remaining troops in a second batch. With their general unhelpful attitude and chaotic composition, the various southern troops wouldn't be much of a help in a proper fight anyways.

"We already have half our men across the sea, the half that counts. Once everything is offloaded in a couple hours, Wacoca will cross again and bring the rest, together with our supplies. By the time Pacha hears of our landing, a day or two will have gone by, even if the local lords send him a message right away. At that point, he still has to send his own scouts to confirm the information and find out about our exact movements. That will take several days more, if your people do their jobs right. Not to mention the travel time for an army."

"Of course the ghosts will do their best to prevent any scouts from King Pacha's side, but we can only hold them for so long, and accidents cannot be avoided. What happens if Lord Ichilia decides to join the war?" At the thought of the powerful northern lord, Tama showed a rare frown. Huaylas, the capital of House Ichilia's estate, was no farther from here than the Narrows, and Lord Ichilia had a much denser net of informants around these parts. Not to mention ships.

"That's... unlikely." Although he hid his own frown, Corco's voice lacked its usual surety. "I admit that our move was a bit risky, and that we are still somewhat vulnerable for now, but with any luck we should be safe from interference. From what our people in the capital tell us, the Ichilias are waiting for a chance to sell a favor to Pacha, aren't they? Trying to show my uncle that he needs them and can't ignore their influence. Divitius Ichilia won't interfere until Pacha has suffered a major loss or three. How would that even happen if I don't intend to fight him at all? We'll just sit here until his army moves. That way, we make room for Fadelio and the craftsmen to cross the border into the south or join up with us. That's the only goal of this operation... and maybe we can disrupt Pacha a bit while we're at it."

Already, Tama's frown had disappeared. The girl had always been hard to read, but over the year, Corco had gotten a lot better at it. Though her face was calm, he was sure she would be relieved that the main priority of their operation was her brother's safety, rather than some vain fantasy of conquest.

"Very well," she said. "Though if a fight does indeed happen..."

"We have no reason to hold back. Pacha might still think that he is superior, but he'll soon enough find out that numbers aren't everything, least of all in modern warfare. We might not have machine gun nests, but we're still centuries ahead."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

173 Disruption

As a tense day drew to a close, Divitius Ichilia left his study to enjoy a glass of mulled wine with his wife son. It was something he always enjoyed, even more so on these cool days of winter, when even Huaylas, city of eternal spring, could be described as 'frigid'. However, just as the door closed behind him, his most recent guest ruined all of his plans and extended his day further.

"I know, brother. I have heard." There she stood with her usual composed posture: Spuria Ichilia, the self-proclaimed empress mother. Though the title was unjustified, Divitius let his sister have her little vanities.

"Heard what, dear sister?" he asked calmly. Back in the day, back when she had begged and pleaded their father to become the emperor's second wife, Divitius had been against the decision. How could the young lady of House Ichilia be second choice to some southerner brat? However, she had insisted and eventually gotten her will. In the process, their relationship had been damaged as well. They barely had any contact until a few years back.

When they reunited, she had come to him with her megalomaniac plans to take over the throne. Ever since she had begun her affair with that numb skull Caelestis, Spuria had become a different person. Her new-found perspective, as well as decades of unrequited love, had made her bitter, self-satisfied and greedy for power. While the first two were little more than annoyances, the third was deadly.

"That little bastard boy has somehow managed to sneak his way past the lonely islands, and he has landed an army. On our land! How dare he!?"

Although the woman had lost control, they had found some strong allies and had gotten lucky a few times as well. This, bit by bit over two decades, they reached a position where for the first time in centuries, the throne was within reach of House Ichilia. All he had to do was reign in his sister, her weak husband and her spoiled son, until he could do all the heavy lifting.

"You are well informed, sister," he said with a smirk. "Much better than one could expect form a woman who is only a visitor in this place. Where did you hear that?"

Although she shrunk a bit under her elder brother's gaze, her posture soon returned to the prideful stance of the empress mother.

"This empress has to be informed, since her own brother is unwilling to support her, or her son. His own nephew." Sometimes, he really felt like he had undertaken a thankless task.

"And how could I show support, even if I was willing? Your precious son, my nephew, has declined any help I have offered him. What else can I do when the brat does his best to push away his family, his firmest support?"

"Do you dare call my son a brat again!? That brat will remember those words once he ascends the silver throne at last. Then you will be sorry for your slights!" There it was, her beastly scream. With her raised finger, she looked like she was about to put a curse on his immortal spirit. Really, what had those Pluritac bastards done to his idealistic sister?

Of course, he could have told Spuria that Pacha's ascension was anything but guaranteed. That her title of empress mother was unreasonable and completely broke with tradition. That their constant breach of customs had caused him all sorts of headaches with the lords under his control. Or maybe he could have mentioned that the brat obey the command of House Ichilia whether he liked it or not; because if Pachacutec became emperor, it would only be with his support, only with his help, and only utterly reliant on Huaylas. However, for now, he would sit and wait, to see that brat be taught a lesson and learn some humility. So in the end, he held back his real thoughts.

"Please excuse my indiscretion, dear sister," he said and bowed. In the process, he pretended a frown. This new Spuria always enjoyed when she could force others to act against their convictions.

"When you show such deference, how could this magnanimous empress mother not forgive?" she answered with a self-satisfied smile. "As for your previous excuses: Even if my young emperor has not asked for your support, it can still be given."

"The problem is not so much that he has not asked for support. He has expressly forbidden his own house from any interference. And he has surrounded himself with sycophants who wish to escape the influence of Huaylas, the influence of House Ichilia. Even if I look beyond this insult and decide to work together with these local lords, what happens if I offer support now? House Ichilia will only be perceived as weak, and our influence will be reduced further. Have you come to know me as a man who is wont to be pushed around, dear sister?"

As she understood that she would not easily get what she wanted, Spuria pursed her lips like a child. Unsightly for such an old woman.

"Already the false king has taken his barbarians and brought them north, all the way across the Narrow Sea. He has been brazen enough to attack the northern lands, so who knows if he will be brazen enough to go further and march onto Huaylas. A single day of forced march could bring him all the way here, so this is no longer an issue that only concerns the kings of the Triumvirate. I understand that Pacha can be a bit prideful, but there is no time to change his mind. Brother, we need to act, and we need to act now."

"We do not need to do anything." he waved off her words and began to walk away, to enjoy his well-deserved rest for the day. "They are my men, and I will well and good do with them as I please. Even if your son becomes emperor, they will still be my men. You would do well not to forget this."

For him, the matter was done with his final word, but the empress mother had other ideas. With small steps to retain her straight posture, Spuria walked alongside her brother.

"Divitius Ichilia, do not forget yourself. You speak of me and my son as if we were strangers, as if we had forgotten our commitment to the family. Yet it will be due to us that the house will ascend and become the greatest force on the Twin Isles. It is only your pride that it would not be you to prevent you from seeing the truth. Your pride has always threatened to hold you back. In that regard, you are quite similar to your nephew, in fact."

At the uncomfortable comparison, Divitius stopped and turned to face his sister. The least he could do was hear her out.

"This time, there is no room for vanity. Now we stand at a precipice, the empire can develop in any of three directions. With the strength of Huaylas you will be king maker, if you wish it. I know you have already made your preparations along the southern shores, while Pacha himself has no presence in the Narrow Sea. Whether he wants your help or not, once you have given it he cannot very well deny it any longer. Don't let your pride get in the way of the family's advances."

Without a word and without movement, he stared at his sister, immersed in thought. Her words were not entirely wrong. Long ago, he had already moved his fleet from the Verdant Sea into the Narrow Sea, ready for a maneuver like this. However, he had never even considered to just force his help onto Pacha. There really was no major problem with Spuria's line of thought. Still, there was a problem with the plan itself.

"Once we show our ships in the Narrow Sea, we will have broken ancient commitments of our forefathers. Ever since these rumors about Pacha have started, I have struggled to keep my more... old-fashioned allies in line. This blatant breach of custom will only weaken our position further."

"Ever since we allied with the foreigners and the grand ancestor, we knew that a break with the traditional forces would be inevitable, so what difference does it make? If anything, the more blatant we are, the bigger our advantage. And should the southern monkey do the same to even the playing field, he will lose the only support he has in the north."

Though he didn't like his sister much these days, her words still often managed to make him smile, as they did at this moment.

"You know, sometimes your insights are frightful, and sometimes they are just what I need. I will send a runner to my men in the south. King Pacha has asked Huaylas to stand down during his conquest, but since the king has no presence at sea, let us make an exception and show disobedience just this once."

__________________________

As he did every morning, Lord Cassius stood atop the slanted roof of his mansion, the countless voices of his subjects in his ear. Sun had risen over the lands of Quitaracra. Down in the streets, the day laborers congregated, in search for their daily bread. The merchants also went about their business, as they scoured the streets for opportunity. To the side of the roads, the craftsmen had opened their shops to drink in the cool morning air and show off their talents for all customers to see. Even further yet, the gold of the morning sun fell onto the great fields and roads which covered much of the estate. On the path to the city, one could already see young farmers, who came to the city to sell their grain, firewood or weaved wares.

Although the lordship in the south was small and close to the ocean, its lands were rich. After all, the Narrow Sea was barely saline to begin with, and the freshwater from the mountains in the east guaranteed a constant supply to the aquifer below. As a typical Medalan estate, Lord Cassius' lands had been growing at a steady pace, even though that pace was that of a snail. Like a sturdy tree, every year would add another ring, another layer of prosperity as his people toiled away uninterrupted.

Not even the civil war of the past could interrupt this peace, of that the lord had made sure. Cassius remembered it well, the time he had spent on the front lines in the service of Emperor Titu, to defend his peace at home, his little plot of heaven. Maybe his memories of days past were the reason he declined to join the war against the south again. Even more, he had no time for Pacha, who may or may not be the emperor's true son, but certainly had no respect for the legacy of Medala's last great ruler. Rather than that pompous brat, Cassius respected the southern king far more, but the location of his estate had put the lord in no position to support the young man who had grown up so well in his father's absence.

*No, that is not the reason either.*

With horror, the lord thought back to the battles of old, a time when losers were broken under the weight of iron, and winners under the weight of blood. Never would he forget the terrors of war, the desperate struggle the south had put up for survival, so far removed from the glory and honor they had heard about in the old stories. This was the truth: Cassius had no stomach for war. Though never had possessed one, he had still paid his dues thirty years ago. Now he was old, and he had chosen to stay away from political games. All he wanted was to stand here, atop his mansion, and observe his lands, watch his people thrive and prosper in the morning sun.

"Lord Cassius," a voice ripped through the peace. Annoyed, he turned his head to the window which had served as his entry to the roof.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"What?" he asked personal servant with disapproval. "You should know I do not wish to be interrupted during sunrise."

"Never would I dream of interrupting your private time, master. However, this servant had no choice in the matter. An issue of utmost urgency has come up."

The old warrior had been with Lord Cassius since before his maturity rites. To the lord, the advisor was as much family as his wife and children, part of his little haven of peace. He was aware how important these hours were to Cassius, how precious. There was only one reason to interrupt the lord at this time. As he watched his servant's cramped posture, leaned half out of the window, the lord's eyes turned first big in disbelief, then in plea, then in desperation. However, the servant's mien remained hard as stone. At last, Cassius accepted his fate. He turned back again, to look at the golden glory of his people down below.

"Tell me," he whispered.

"Master, there have been reports from our scouts along the shore. It appears as if forces of the southern kingdom have landed on our beaches and have begun to set up camp."

For the last time, Cassius drank in the prosperity of his people, their daily toil, like a memory he wanted to grip for the rest of his life.

"What shall we do?" the servant urged.

"First inform the lords and kings we are obliged to, then send men to the surrounding village heads and get as many people behind walls as we can. Maybe we can weather this storm, maybe it will pass us by."

With a tremble in his voice, Lord Cassius gave his orders, as his moist eyes closed on his little piece of heaven for the last time. The days of peace were over. War had arrived in Quitaracra.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

174 Opportunists, Cowards

"We're receiving an emergency message from up ahead!"

*Nonsense, how could there be any problems?*

When he received the unexpected report, a worried Wacoca rushed up to the ship's bow and stared towards the horizon. At this distance he could see only some shadows against the glittering waves, so he took out his telescope, a present from his teacher upon his return. Now miraculously larger, the rest of their fleet came into clear view, and with it the image of his younger sister. Atop the largest vessel of the advanced fleet, Sumaci marched around like a queen and barked orders, much to Wacoca's dismay.

*Stubborn girl, what are you doing again?*

When they had left Saniya for the war camp of the southern armies next to Qarasi Castle, the girl had insisted that she follow along. Of course, Wacoca hadn't liked her insistence one bit. Still, he had relented to her constant pestering. He knew that she would come anyways, with his approval or without. At least this way, she would make less trouble, or so he had hoped. Despite the obvious futility of his actions, he had made her swear to stay out of anything resembling a fight and remain a pure observer. Yet here she was, taking the command of the ships by herself.

She had done this in the past already, on the Verdant Isles. Back then, it hadn't been a big deal and had even been encouraged by their father. A great navigator didn't need to be a man after all, so women from his home didn't have the low status they held here in Medala. With a knack for reading maps and her natural energy, no one could deny Sumaci's talents as a ship's captain. Still, they were not at home anymore, and he had promised his father that he would help her find a suitable Medalan husband to strengthen their alliance with King Corco. Which of these lords would ever want her when she broke all the common customs these people valued so much?

Even worse, although the girl liked to show off, Wacoca always felt that she was more at home in a library. She enjoyed the novelty and adventure that the travel on a ship would bring, but the battles, the danger and brutality were never to her tastes, no matter how much she tried to play tough.

Even so, despite all the warnings and against her own nature, there she stood again, and shouted her orders at the men. For now though, there was little Wacoca could do about her, what with all that water between them. Rather than focus on his unreasonable sister, Wacoca swung his spyglass to the side, to observe her ship's stern.

At the aft of the vessel stood one of their sailors, who transmitted a secret message through a series of flag movements. Semaphore, his teacher Corco had called them. They were a clever system indeed, and one Wacoca had been eager to adapt for his own fleet. As an experienced captain, he had understood their value right away and made sure that the only ones who could read the messages were the captains and the flag bearers. This would only increase the importance of the captain on the ship, and at the same time guarantee loyalty. Content with his care, Wacoca began to decipher the message. However, his confusion only increased as a result.

'Ships starboard. Ships port.' That was what the message said.

*Which one is it?*

For a while, he didn't know what his sister meant. What side was the ship coming from? Couldn't they tell somehow? Rather than give hasty orders and increase the confusion further, his eyes remained trained on the flag bearer, until he repeated his message and Wacoca finally saw it in its entirety.

'Enemy blockade ahead. Incomplete. Ships starboard. Ships port.'

*Damn.*

Though he didn't know how, somehow the enemy had moved much faster than they had expected. How were they already setting up a barricade? How could this have happened? With the safety of Rapra Castle at the mouth of the Narrow Sea, no enemy fleet should have been able to enter these waters to disrupt their operation. Now their plans seemed foiled.

"Full sails ahead! Everyone to the rudders! We need to catch up!"

He hadn't seen the enemy ships yet, but he needed to be decisive. After Wacoca had shouted his orders, he observed the fleet in the distance again, as they sped up just the same. At least if their fleets were together, this wouldn't have been so bad. However, when they had tried to set off, the local lords of southern Medala had caused problems again and again, which had led to multiple delays. As a result, the first half of their fleet, loaded with supplies, had been sent ahead. Wacoca had long been fed up with the arrogance and clear disinterest from their local allies, but now he really felt like throwing some idiots overboard to teach them a lesson. When he returned his sight to the flag bearer on Sumaci's ship, more bad news already awaited him.

'Too close. We slip through. You retreat.'

"Idiot!"

Why would she promise him to stay safe when this girl would go back on her word anyways? All by herself, his sister was planning to break through the incomplete blockade and drop off the supplies in the north, while he and the rest of the army would be left behind, forced to return the way they came. Wacoca was unresigned. Never would he let his sister embark on this dangerous journey by herself.

"Faster, damn it!" he shouted to his men. Already they had reached an impressive cadence, but he knew his men well, they were far from their limits. However, while Wacoca was focused on his sister's tail up front, his first mate looked behind.

"Captain, any faster and we will lose contact with half our fleet!"

When Wacoca turned, he saw the ships loaded with Medala's finest warriors and lords lag behind already. If they couldn't keep up, he would have to stay with them, to organize the retreat. In these dangerous waters, he didn't trust any of the local lords with the navigation.

"Blast it all!" he shouted. "Tell them to hurry up then!"

However, despite their urgency, their distance to the supply ships barely reduced, even after an hour of effort. By the time they had almost caught their tail, Wacoca could see the enemy for himself. From the northeast and the northwest, unfamiliar sails peeked over the waves, closing in fast. Their course led them straight past the lonely Island of Prince Eclestius. Although this route had guaranteed their safe passage so far, there were reefs and sandbanks aplenty, and little room to maneuver. For a bit he estimated in his head, hoped that he would be able to make it before the enemies arrived.

"Captain! We need to turn!" his first mate shouted, but Wacoca remained determined.

*Somehow, someway. *

If only those lords weren't so useless. Since they had lacked the speed for a clean journey, they would have to get creative. He remembered a passage through the reefs. If only they showed enough boldness, they could fulfill their mission yet.

"Correct course three hands starboard. We're aiming for the reefs."

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Although his first mate looked unconvinced, none of Wacoca's men would ever question his judgment. Like a single body, they worked together and soon closed in to their target. They would show the remaining fleet the way, all the lords had to do was follow. However, just as there seemed to be a glimmer of hope, more bad news arrived.

"Message from our aft!"

*This cannot be good.*

When he reached the stern and looked at the ships of his allies, his tense face turned into a mask of anger. What were these cowards doing? Half the lords' ships had already turned to retreat. Whatever was left sent him one final message:

'Enemy spotted. Retreat.'

"Of course there is a damn enemy, you bastards! That's why we're rushing!"

Front and back, no one would listen to his words. What point was there in getting past the enemy with a single ship? Why risk his crew's lives for almost nothing? He knew his mission had failed, he knew his sister would be on her own.

"Captain! We need a decision now!"

"Damn it all! Turn back! Those cowards better not lose us the war, that king better not lose my sister! Or we will never forget this slight, this cowardice."

With a grim face, Wacoca watched Sumaci's fleet disappear over the horizon, as it was replaced by two Medalan fleets from the east and the west. His eyes didn't turn until even they had disappeared, as they sat in front of the lonely islands, content to prevent Wacoca's passage. The door was closed, the path cut off. Corco and Sumaci were on their own.

__________________________

After Palletio had left the mansion behind and taken place within his palanquin, he could finally put away his fake smile and relax his neck. Although he didn't mind conversation, and indeed relished in it, his talks over the last days were more akin to those of a beggar, something far beneath the great House of Pluritac. If only they could do away with this nonsense triumvirate already, he could pay these excessive lords back, silver and bronze, and be rid of this unseemly predicament.

Over the past weeks, he had spent most of his days like this. In search of additional allies for King Pachacutec, he had rushed from one mansion to another. Although the number and quality of troops under the king's command were more than enough to deal with the south, they also consumed a lot of food, and a lot of coin.

As a result of the ongoing war, the funds of the split House Pluritac were strained beyond reason. Although the lords who remained in the capital were cowards who did not want to participate in the war, they were still eager to secure a slice of the pie by giving away their wealth for the good cause. Of course, all of them tried to get the most out of the arrangement and haggled like merchants, which had kept Palletio so busy over these days.

Just as he was about to lean back and relax, he could feel the palanquin stop, and before he could open the drawers to inquire the complication, he already heard an out of breath voice answer his question.

"Official Palletio, important news have arrived from the south!"

As the official main advisor of House Pluritac, Palletio knew all of his subordinates, which meant he knew this voice as well. It was one of the family runners. Indeed, when he pulled open the curtain, he saw himself opposite the familiar face, though the man looked much worse for wear than Palletio remembered. He had smelled the thick sweat long before he saw it, but the stream of countless droplets on the face only reinforced the miserable image. A constant cloud of steam rose from the runner's body and disappeared into the freezing winter air of Arguna. His chest heaved as he held out his hand, a letter grasped within.

As soon as Palletio saw the color of the seal, he realized why his runner looked so exhausted. Within the system of the Pluritac runners, red indicated highest urgency. This man must have run dozens of miles by himself to arrive without delay. With increased worry, Palletio opened the letter and began to read.

"Is this information confirmed?" he asked the messenger after he had skimmed the message, one eye still on the words.

"Almost certainly. Southern troops have landed in Sinchay and have begun to construct an encampment. King Corco has begun his counterattack." "...come inside," Palletio said and slid away from the entrance to make room. This was not a conversation they should hold out in the open street, least of all in Arguna. As soon as the runner had entered, Palletio hit the front of his compartment to make his warriors resume their march.

"Although the content is worrisome, the letter tells me precious few details. How many men have the southerners brought with them? What is the exact nature of their camp? Is it temporary or permanent?"

"Though this servant is deeply distraught, so far, little is known. Our men in the south thought it more prudent to relay the information as soon as possible."

"And you did well to do so. The king cannot know about this," Palletio mumbled.

"Official?" Large-eyed, the servant looked around to see if anyone had heard his master's traitorous words.

"You did not mishear." Despite the runner's suspicion, Palletio remained calm. He had nothing to hide, and no manner of accusation would change that. "King Pachacutec is still too young, too eager to prove himself. It is a servant's duty to protect him from his own courage. For now, we know almost nothing of the strength and composition of the southern forces, not even how they crossed the sea this fast without our knowledge. We cannot rush into an engagement, even less so if that is exactly what the southern king wants."

"What the king wants?" his dull runner asked. However, for now Palletio would humor him. He needed to dispel the man's fanciful suspicions to guarantee smooth operations in the future.

"Maybe King Corcopaca intends to force a move out of our troops to move in from the south and encircle us. Maybe he has set up an ambush along the way and wants to wipe us out as we are on the march. For now, it is our priority to not get caught up in the southern king's plans. As long as we do not follow his wishes, we will be in good shape, even if inaction seems like a weak choice. Our position is one of absolute dominance, so we need to avoid mistakes first and foremost. Thus, we need to remain unmoved until we can make a more accurate judgment."

"Understood, master. This servant will do his best to support King Pachacutec, even if it means insubordination, even if it costs this servant's life." In the end, the runner was a good man, worthy of the name Pluritac. Gratified, Palletio nodded his head.

"Good. You will send out additional runners right away. Make sure they reach the messengers en route to King Pachacutec and delay for a few additional days. This official will draft a short advisory letter for King Pachacutec. Have it arrive no more than a day after the initial message. So long as King Pachacutec does not overreact to this provocation, there is no need to worry. The more King Corco moves, the more he shows his desperation. All we need to do is retain our calm. After all, how much damage can he do, stuck on the coastline?"
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

175 New Toys

As Corco watched the ships move towards the coast, a cold, sudden breeze rushed in from the south and cut into his face. The wind had turned again. Throughout the second half of the year, the weather had been much warmer than it should have been, but winter had finally found its way to Medala.

Soon, the fleet had moored along the new piers his men had constructed for this purpose in the last few days. However, the fleet was much smaller than what he had expected. As Corco stepped onto the wooden planks below the ships, he spotted a familiar face above.

"What happened? Where's your brother?" he shouted towards Princess Sumaci, who had traded her green dress for sturdy sailor's cloth. As she looked down, the girl first appeared annoyed, but her features eased as soon as she saw him.

"Why thank you for your concern, King Corco. I have indeed returned safe and sound." She leaned over the railing towards Corco, and her long hair fell down to frame her blossoming smile.

"Look, this is no time to play around. You're missing around half your ships. Where's your brother?"

Although he couldn't really complain if the Verdant Folk had taken back half their fleet, it would still be a problem for transportation if they had just halved their commitment in the middle of a military operation. Even worse, they might have been the victim of a sudden storm, as the sudden turn in weather would suggest. In that case, they might have lost half their shipss, which would make him not only unpopular with the Verdant Isles, but also with all the southern lords who would have lost their warriors in Corco's risky endeavor.

"My brother is fine, as are the ships you are so worried about. And I am serious as well, great king. I am only a small, helpless damsel in bitter need of a husband. Would no one have pity and consider my feelings?"

After she had spoken, the helpless girl vaulted down and landed her heavy boots on the pier besides Corco.

"A damsel commandeering a ship?" Corco grinned. In truth, he had a bit of fun with the banter, but there were important issues to discuss. "Maybe it would be better to speak in private."

A while later, they sat in Corco's tent, each with a hot mulled wine before them. Although it was the first cold day, his current attendant had already been prepared by the time he returned.

"Right, so where did you keep the rest of my fleet, damsel?" Corco asked Sumaci who held her cup in both hands and slowly sipped the spicy wine.

"...we were split in half on our way back. Northern ships have set up a blockade in the Narrow Sea, so only the supply ships have made it through. Wacoca took charge of the second fleet which transported the southern warriors and was forced to turn back."

"Bullshit," Corco stated in a calm, kingly manner.

"Would you mind your language in the presence of a lady?" Sumaci asked, though her grin told him that she didn't really mean it.

"Oxen feces then. How can they have enough ships for a blockade? We've closed off the mouth to the Narrow Sea as soon as I came back with your extra ships. Rapra Castle lets us control the entire area, so how did they sneak that many ships through that quickly?"

After she had contemplated her wine a bit more, Sumaci looked up, one finger on her lower lip.

"Maybe they have been around for a while and were anticipating your crossing. After all, not only King Corco can come up with plans."

"Makes sense." This was getting annoying. He really needed to consider the potential moves of his opponents more. "It wasn't Pacha though. Divitius?" he mumbled to himself.

"Food has been readied." From the tent's corner, Tama carried two steaming bowls of stew to the damsel and the king. So long as he hadn't taken care of Nahlen, Corco wouldn't be dumb enough to eat the communal food. "And if this servant may be so bold: Who has planned the blockade matters little for now. We are stuck behind enemy lines, understrength and with no supply lines. These issues need to be rectified."

After she had spoken, Tama walked past Corco and took a seat half a step behind him.

"That's right. We can still puzzle over causality once we've solved our crisis. Not that it's too much of a problem, really."

"Not much of a problem?" The spoon already halfway up to her mouth, Sumaci looked up with large, clear eyes. Meanwhile, the meat on her spoon had seen enough of the girl's indecision and decided to take the plunge back into its old home. With a comedic splash, it disappeared back into the stew.

Somehow, Corco managed to not laugh and instead shrugged in indifference. "It's a shame your brother isn't around to witness my glory, but the other lords would only get in the way anyways with their infighting. Even at full strength, we'd struggle to win a direct confrontation against Pacha's army, so it's much better to have a smaller, more united and more agile force."

"Unless there is another rebellion, no?" Sumaci's sneaky grin had returned, this time framed by the steam from her food and drink.

"You've heard about that?" Corco raised an eyebrow. How could this girl get her hands on confidential information?

"Were you not around when my father called me an obedient girl? Well, I have done the right thing for our family and set up some... sources. The Verdant Folk hear many things, King Corco, many more than you expect." After she had showed off enough, Sumaci stuffed her face with the stew and chewed in one cheek. At least she could have maintained the illusion for a bit longer.

"You're a pretty good spy, huh?" Ignoring Tama's derisive scoff, Corco smiled again. Though he was glad that apparently, his spymaster was well aware of his guest's movements.

"Indeed," Sumaci mumbled past all the food in her mouth,"it is one of my many talents."

"Well, you shouldn't worry too much about the holdovers from that incident. I already have some of my best people on the job." While Sumaci sank back into the food, Corco spied over his shoulder to Tama and saw her grin and nod in response. He really hoped he hadn't misplaced his trust in this instance. As he turned back, Sumaci was still immersed in her meal, still uninterested in etiquette. Of course she knew the etiquette and had displayed it in the past, but she seemed aware that the king didn't really care much for formalities.

"Now, for an issue you can actually help me with. We need to take inventory. Most importantly:" Corco leaned forward. "Did you carry the snow shoes, skis and amber glasses with you on the ships?"

"Those bundles of sticks and stones?" The girl looked up again, confusion all over her sauce-stained face. "Yes we did, though I do not see the point of these toys, much less bringing thousands of them."

"That's because you've never seen proper snow before, tropical girl." Though Sumaci seemed mildly upset with her twisted mouth, Corco continued his lesson as he extended a silk handkerchief across the table. "That's why I had my craftsmen do some extra work and start on those snow shoes before we left Saniya. Although the winter has taken its time this year, we've just reached a turn. Any day we're gonna get snow, and it won't melt until spring. At that time, you'll worship me for my foresight. In fact, so long as we have those shoes and enough supplies, Pacha and his greedy band of followers will never catch us, trapped in enemy lands or not."

Of course, their spies, their use of maps and their telescopes would also play a role, but the snow shoes were new. New toys were *exciting*.

"In that case, I wonder how those supplies would be guaranteed, considering the blockade." By now, Corco had managed to draw the girl's attention away from her meal. Maybe it was a bit silly that he would be proud of that. "I understand King does not want to talk about confidential information, but this is a problem that concerns all of us, and my sailors can help coordinate our efforts. The Verdant men are great fighers in their own right, more than enough to hold their own, be it sea or land."

"For now that won't be necessary. Thank you for your offer though, I'll keep it in mind." Corco winked at the overenthusiastic girl. "In fact, the solution to all our problems is easy enough. Tama."

As soon as he called out, he could hear the soft rustle rustle of his spymaster's robe as she rose from her seat."

"Yes, King Corco."

"What's the latest word from the east?" First, he needed to reconfirm everything he knew.

"There is still no movement from King Pacha's side. It appears as if they have not even attempted to send any additional scouts, at least so far. One could almost believe they have not received any message of our landing at all. Maybe the enemy has decided to stand down and confuse us through inaction, maybe there has been an interruption in the king's intelligence network. Although I am somewhat concerned about the implications of either option, the fact that the king's camp is in no state to move out quickly remains unchanged. King Pacha cannot attack us within the next five days, at least. I have also taken the liberty to send further scouts up north to check on House Ichilia, and detected no movement from around Huaylas either."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

As she spoke, Tamaya crossed the room and took some paper, ink and quill from a wooden chest, which soon landed in front of Corco. After such a long time of cooperation, his attendant knew exactly what he wanted to do next.

"Not that I expected any movements from them anyways... still, if the Ichilias are willing to send ships for a blockade, they might also be willing to send soldiers for an attack. Good thinking."

"Indeed, King Corco is correct."

Though Corco thought it was silly to praise him for a mistake, he had learned to let Tama's rigid attitude slide every now and then. However, someone else was far less inclined.

"Seems like your servant does a better job than you." 'Maybe she should be in charge instead,' Sumaci's provocation seemed to imply.

Although Tama stepped forward with a frown, Corco retained his smile and raised a hand to hold her back. At the same time, he wondered if Sumaci knew what sort of enemy she was about to make in Tamaya.

"That's why she's the spymaster, and not me," he acknowledged instead. "We all have our talents. Some of us can consider all aspects of intelligence gathering and organize vast networks of informants and runners. Some are good at guiding a country down the right path and delegating tasks to the right people. Some are good at complaining, mostly."

For a moment, Sumaci looked stunned, her mouth half agape, before she caught her own expression again.

"I apologize for my rudeness. No matter what, you are my teacher after all."

To Corco's surprise, the princess actually bowed, though only a little and only for a second. Rather than make more jokes, he decided to let the matter go and focus on work. Thus, he bent down and began to write out his orders.

"Anyways, Pacha's inactivity gives us enough time to gather up some supplies. We'll be sending out our soldiers in small groups, for requisition of grain and firewood from the villages in our immediate surroundings. Tama, I want you to make sure we pay for the food, we brought more than enough silver with us to feed the army through the winter. No pillaging either. These are my people, even though they are temporarily not under my command. I'll have to rule them someday, and I don't want them to remember me as a butcher."

Tama nodded and took her own notes with a piece of coal.

"I will oversee their behavior. If we send them throughout this estate, we should be able to acquire enough supplies to last us a good while."

"No, you will send them all along the coast instead." Corco shook his head. "I want every fishing village along the coast taken by a small troop and cleared of food. People too, if you have to. Relocation, not murder, by the way. That one still applies. I know it's less efficient, but this way, our food problem is still solved, and wait! There's more: If you order now, you can also break that ludicrous blockade in the Narrow Sea in one fell swoop!"

"You intend to starve them out," Tama realized, her eyes enlarged into two serene ponds.

"Even if they expected us to cross the water and attack the coast at some point, they didn't know when we'd do so. There's no way they have sufficient food and water aboard those ships. Though loaded, those old-timey war galleys can also only carry so much. At some point, they will have to resupply on land. Where will they do that? They can't go south, cause we still have half an army there, plus that warning system of beacons I conveniently installed in the Chawir marshes. In the west they're blocked off by Rapra Castle, and in the east by Qarasi. Their only viable route is back north, but soon that will be gone as well. They're trying to starve us out, are they? Let's just see which one of us starves first."

As he thought about his plans, a sinister smile crept onto Corco's face. Their supplies weren't an insurmountable problem, and their enemies were on borrowed time as well. Soon enough, this nonsense war would be over.

"In light of this plan, I would like to request for some additional supplies." Tama's voice came from his side. "There are a few issues which need clearing up and the ghosts are under-equipped."

As Corco was still immersed in his plans, he waved the spymaster's request away without a second thought.

"Whatever you need, just tell the quartermaster. You have free reign."

"This servant will do everything to repay the trust given to her." Unbeknownst to Corco, Tama's smile was no less dangerous than her king's. All the while, Sumaci sat with an empty cup in her hand and worried about the quality of her company.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

176 Starvation Tactics

In between Pacha's fingers, the paper of the letter weighed heavily. Nothing good had come of this blasted message about his brother's invasion, even beyond the invasion itself.

King Pachacutec, King of the Central Kingdom, rightful ruler of the Medala Empire and hero of heroes, was annoyed. Once again, he sat on his throne within his army's now less than temporary camp and had to listen to the careless complaints of his servants around him, those servants who did not understand his difficulties. Shouldn't the subordinates of an emperor be more obedient? Weren't the Yaku beholden to their code of honor? Yet all these self-titled lords had on their minds was how to make trouble for him.

"King Pachacutec, this lord needs to emphasize again the severity of the southern king's invasion. This is an outrageous attack on our home and land! We need to fight back right away, or we will be considered a laughing stock by the other estates! How could men of honor let such a slight go by unanswered?" This superficially reasonable concern had come from Lord Fulcinius. Of course, the lord would not truly be interested in honor, Pacha knew that much.

Rather, the estate of Lord Fulcinius lay along the southern coast and was under threat by his brother's troops. Why else would a man like him speak of honor when he had only spoken of the spoils he could gain from their expedition so far, eager to gain a foothold on both sides of the Narrow Sea? Rather than answer, Pacha only stared down his uncouth servant until he would get uncomfortable. In a one on one conversation, it would have been enough to quiet down the coward, but today, he had support.

"This lord concurs. King Pachacutec hates the southerners more than anyone. King knows just as well as us that they are beasts who only respond to harsh punishment. We need to show strength and deal them a heavy blow right away, to prove the superiority of the north." This time the speaker was Lord Rupilo. How could the least honorable man in the Empire dare speak on such an issue with such careless words?

Of course Pacha knew: Ever since he had broken his support for the southern king and joined the central kingdom's invasion force for his own selfish reasons, the frightened Rupilo had been afraid of Corco's retaliation. With their recent landing in the north, he expected the southern king's revenge to be close at hand. Thus, rather than face his own crimes, Rupilo preferred to send his king's warriors ahead to die for a lowly lord's cause. Still, despite his disgust, this was not something Pacha could speak of. Against his wishes, he had to keep this collection of opportunists satisfied, lest he face the entire south by himself. So instead of a sharp reprimand for Rupilo's insolence, Pacha tried his hand at logic.

"We have only just received word of the enemy attack, and have sent out scouts for further clarification today," he said, as his regal view nailed down each and every one of the cowards. "Any move-out at this time would be more than foolish. We will not begin our march until we know that the southerners have not laid out any more traps for us, not after the humiliation this king had to suffer at Qarasi Castle. Rupilo, your advice so far has done more harm than good, so this king would expect you to restrain yourselves at least this once."

With a reference to their last attack, when they had tried to waste the enemy powder through the use of forced peasant levies, at least the originator of the plan, Rupilo, would be silenced. Even so, there were many more interested in a rash attack. This time, Lord Makipura, ruler of the local estate had spoken up. As the siege had dragged on, he had become more and more disgruntled.

"Whether or not the southerners have laid out any traps is impossible to know. In fact, could our lack of response not play right into their hands? Imagine if the southern army uses our time of indecision to raze the estates around the southern coast before they retreat with the spoils? Maybe that was their plan from the start, and they exploit our hesitation to gain more time for their evil deeds. After all, they are nothing more than pirates."

"True enough! They need to be stopped!" Fulcinius shouted again, fearful of the treasury at his southern estate. In response to his obvious bias, Pacha sneered.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"In the first place," Makipura continued as he looked around the room, "we need to understand that the southerners have no power in the north, and no knowledge of the terrain to boot. Not even during the civil war did the southerners launch an invasion on Sinchay lands. All they managed were a few coastal raids, not a proper inland attack. Not only is their attack now a slap in our face, a way to show that we do not have the strength of our fathers-"

"Is that not what it is!?" Rupilo called out of turn, eager see his foes killed by Pacha's hands. This time, the king had to control those very handsor he would have thrown his axe at the turncoat's face.

"...but even more, their lack of knowledge in Sinchay denies them any means to set up an effective ambush in the first place. Whatever they needed for one, be it maps or supplies, cannot possibly be prepared on enemy lands without our knowledge, so there should be no danger in our advancement. We should break up our tents right away. If we act now, we can be on the move by noon."

Again, Makipura's motives were far too transparent to hide them behind his weak arguments, his laughable trickery. Pacha could only offer another sneer in response. How could his brother Corco, the clever deceiver, be under-prepared for his attack? How could such a massive expedition aim at nothing more than some plunder? All Lord Makipura wanted was for the central army to leave his lands as soon as possible. While it was true that the king's warriors had done some damage to the commoners of the lord's estate, they were only commoners after all. Makupira should have felt honored to host a king on his lands, and yet all the lord did was risk the king's armies in a pointless attempt to save the lives of a few worthless peasants.

"Enough," Pacha shouted and stood. Although his arm would never be as it was before, although he had lost his prowess in combat, his head still stood above anyone else in the room, his figure still had its imposing might. Instinctively, the cowards around him recognized their leader and shrunk back in submission.

"You say that the southerners are unprepared in their attack of the north?" Pacha asked. "In that case, they would also lack supplies, would they not? This king has already instructed Uncle Divitius to blockade the Narrow Sea."

A lie, but a necessary one. After all, how could a subordinate of the king be allowed to act on his own? He was sure Divitius would play along. No, he was sure his clever uncle had planned to sell him this favor a long time ago.

"With the blockade in place, the southern invasion forces will run out of food soon enough. By then, they will fall by themselves. We could win the war without a single battle. Once the time is ripe, we only need collect the emaciated corpse of King Corcopaca from our shores."

"However-" Makipura tried again, but the king's fist struck the table to end all discussions.

"This king has made his decision and will hear no more of the matter. All of you are dismissed."

Although still unwilling, no one dared speak up again as they trudged out of the tent. Once the issue was resolved, Pacha sank back into his uncomfortable throne and looked at the letter which had caused all of these troubles. From within his silken robe, he drew a second letter and placed it beside the first. Both had arrived around the same time. In truth, the king had wanted to see his troops storm out as well, to face his brother in honorable combat on an open field for once, to prove his worth in battle and wash away his shame with blood. Yet with his worries and concerns, his advisor had forced Pacha to stand down. Even though he did not like the inactivity, he saw the wisdom within. Even further, he understood that he could not rule alone. He needed to trust someone, and so far, only Pallatio had proven an honest servant, far more worthy than any of the so-called lords around him.

For now he would sit still, and wait until Corco starved to death. Though of course, his patience was limited. As soon as he had more information, as soon as he knew that the coast was clear, he would take his army and crush his enemies beneath his heels. Maybe he could send his cowardly underlings to the frontlines in the initial engagement. That would be nice. At the thought, Pacha's mood lifted. Just a bit of patience, and everything would be fine.

__________________________

To Arnao's left, he could see a string of ships, with about two miles of space between them, stretched all the way to the horizon. To his right, the sight was the exact same.

When he looked upon his fleet, Captain Arnao d'Ichilia felt great pride. These were the most advanced vessels in all of Medala. Fittingly, upon these great ships rested Medala's greatest warriors. Some nasty tongues would pretend like House Pluritac or House Rubria had greater warriors than House Ichilia, but they understood nothing. When it came to naval warfare, no one could hold a candle to their mighty house, and this great fleet proved it.

*Let the Pluritac brats battle it out for the moment,* he thought. Soon enough, they would have bitten each other half to death, and then it would be his master's time to strike. In the end, House Ichilia would come out on top and become the driving force of the empire. Already, this was shown by his master's clever prediction of the southern king's movements. And as the great Divitius Ichilia rose to power, it would all be Arnao's achievement, at least in part.

Who else but him would have acted this decisively, as soon as they caught wind of the southern attack? Who else could have hidden their ships so well and kept them out of sight of foreign spies? With great care, he had distributed his fleet in villages all across the coastline, to prevent early discovery, and to spread out at a speed unimaginable by their foes once the time was ripe.

Yes, soon enough, once they had starved out that southern king, they would be able to destroy his army. Then Arnao would have reaped the greatest achievement in the war. Soon, he was sure, he would be called into Huaylas, to serve at the side of Master Divitius. Soon, his family would become part of the new ruling class of Medala. Was it too much to dream of his own piece of territory within the south? Arnao felt it would not be an excessive reward for his continued service.

"Captain Arnao, we need to pick up some additional supplies soon." An overzealous servant broke right into his plans for the future. Although Arnao frowned, he knew his first mate was right. Before he could reap the rewards for his great contributions, the captain would still have to achieve them through effort.

"Very well. We will travel north ourselves, to restock at our supply storage in Antsan village." Luckily, Arnao had shown the foresight to arrange for a number of silos within the villages along the coast of the Narrow Sea. Of course there was no reason to bother a great captain of his caliber with such a menial task. However, if he went himself, he would appear more proactive. Another good chance to distinguish himself in front of his master, or so he thought.

After they had signaled the ships around them to plug the hole in their formation, their own vessel had turned north and rowed to their point of contact. This was another of his ingenious ideas: Before the blockade, he had split their fleet into several smaller, independant groups. Every few days, one ship from among that formation would split off and pick up the supplies for the rest of their group at a prearranged point, while the remainders held the formation. This way, they could establish a blockade across several horizons, even without any easy way to coordinate over such distances.

However, when Antsan village came into view, the experienced captain sensed trouble straight away. Before he even saw the coastline, he noticed the smoke rise in the distance. Soon after followed the familiar rooftops of the village, but then he spotted something he had only heard of so far. In the cold winter breeze blew the lavish new banners of the southern king, silver on purple. Who knew how the southern paupers had managed to purchase this much purple dye for their banners, but soon all that wealth would be Lord Ichilia's.

Undeterred by his foes, Arnao tasked his men to press on. Of course he was a bit worried about potential enemies in the village, but his were the best warriors in all of Medala. Even more so: What else could he do? They had come this far, so they had to at least try their best, or go back without food and starve. Maybe these visitors were nothing but a coincidence. Maybe they were only scouts of the southern king, resting in the village before they moved on. In that case, it would be easy enough to overpower a handful of warriors.

However, his hopes were shattered from above, were their eagle-eyed warrior scanned the landing area.

"The storage has been burnt! The storage has been burnt! The beasts want to starve us!"

Although he could feel his hands tighten in his long sleeves, the situation could still be salvaged. They wouldn't burn all that food, would they? It was far too valuable for such a brutish act. These southern scouts must be holding the food in their possession for now. It was an easy take. Even if they had already transported the grain inland, there was still the village itself, wasn't there? Those villagers must have their own supplies for the winter, more than enough to feed Arnao's troops for a while longer.

"Keep ahead! Let's make them pay for their crimes!" More than anything, Arnao wanted to punish the arrogant king who dared get in the way of his own glory! As their ship drove in closer, an atmosphere of grim determination spread from the captain to his men. "Soon the land is upon us, and with it the cowardly foes! Let no one li-"

A burst of thunder broke through his fervent speech, and then another. As the water splashed around them, he ducked beneath the ship's railing.

"Cannon fire!" his outlook shouted.

*What's the point of such a call?* an annoyed Arnao thought. *Who wouldn't have heard the cannons?*

"Hold fast and keep ahead!" he shouted at his men, himself hidden beneath the ship's railing. Only a few dozen pulls from the oars and they could land to close the distance. Then those cannons would be a deterrent no longer.

"Hold fast I said!"

However, his cowardly men had hidden as well, no one willing to face the enemy fire and just row.

*Bastards.* Before he could educate his men on their failures, something smashed against the side of the ship to take away his thoughts as well as his balance. While he crawled across the floor to reach the relative safety of his cabin, he heard his men's screams turn into an irritating mess.

"Starboard rudders damaged!"

"We're drifting!"

"Hull has been damaged and is taking water!"

This was outrageous. He couldn't die here, not him! What about his future, his glory? Faced with a difficult situation, Arnao made the only correct decision.

"Retreat!"

Sometimes, a tactical retreat was the best, most glorious choice. For now, he still had food enough aboard the ships. They could just take the village any other day. As he thought about his achievement in saving Lord Ichilia's ship through his swift, tactical retreat, he dreamed of revenge.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

177 Chance at Glory

Surrounded by what remained of his loyal men after their botched revold in Saniya, Nahlen looked down on the foreign village at the foot of the hill. From his vantage point, he could watch his army's great devastation.

"So that would be step one. The only question is: What now?" he muttered his confusion to no one in particular. After all, his closest ally had already been taken out by the nonsense barbarian king several days ago.

While he waited for his troops to clean out the village, Nahlen thought back to the conversation he had held with the merchant king a few days back, the one which had led him here. He needed to clear his head and reaffirm his plans.

__________________________

As others were sent off to conquer the villages along the southern coast and get rich off the loot, Nahlen and his wolf mercenaries had been left behind. Of course he was upset that he and his men would miss out on their part of the bounty. Even more so, he was nervous about the cold treatment from the king. After their attempt at a takeover had failed, there would be no good end for Mason and the other co-conspirators. Even less so once they reached Dedrick.

Nahlen knew better than anyone about his commander, and the old mercenary would never go back on a deal once he had agreed to it. No matter how much he loved to talk like a bandit, at heart Dedrick was still just an Arcavian knight, with all the nonsense code that came with it. And more than anything, Arcavian knights didn't excuse traitors. Once Corco had decided to send Mason to Dedrick, the quartermaster's fate was as good as sealed. However, Nahlen knew Mason as well. No matter his talks of loyalty, the fat treasurer would talk long before he died, just to buy himself a few more moments of breath. Once the truth was out, Nahlen's life would be just as forfeit as Mason's.

Though even before that moment he was in imminent danger, right here in their army camp. When he stepped into the command tent, the merchant king, great seer Corcopaca Fastgrade, was already waiting for him on his seat. With a frown, the mercenary looked at the guards around the king while he stepped up to take his orders. No one offered the mercenary a chair of his own. All throughout the invasion, none of his men had been used as guards by the king, so the warriors here all stared at him with hostility. All but the king of course, who would always wear his eerie, unreadable mask of a smile.

Though of course, even Corco's thoughts had become clear to Nahlen. Since the incident, the mercenary had been given no vital orders at all, despite his important position within the army. Rather than do meaningful work, he would be sent out on menial tasks, to keep him busy and prevent any further plots. It was exactly what Nahlen expected this time as well: Busywork to keep him occupied until he would be easy to take out.

"So how did the trench digging go?" The king's voice was calm as ever, but Nahlen felt a tingle in his stomach that sapped his patience. Today, he wouldn't play along with the charlatan's games.

"King Corco, although we have done our work to the best of our ability, I believe my men would be much better served out in the field. They are your most experienced warriors and have proven their talents and loyalty in countless battles, unlike those local farmers and dockhands who have never seen blood." Though his knees still felt weak, his chest ballooned as he stared at the king's incompetent guards one by one. However, Corco seemed uninterested in a power play.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Their background is exactly why they had to be sent out first: They're locals, and commoners. I get your basic point, but you're wrong. You and your men have been assigned to the camp because this was where I needed you most. After our landing, our first priority was to secure a proper foothold in the north, before anyone can organize an attack against our position. Not only do your guys have prior experience with the engineering work, we also needed our strongest men for all the hard labor to speed up our progress. The strongest, unfortunately, are the wolves."

Corco shifted in his seat before he continued.

"Unlike the rest of my army, at least the wolves have been cultivating for a couple years. If we let the commoners dig those trenches, it would take them all winter. Plus, I wanted to establish first contact between my troops and the local villagers through Yaku men, people who understand them in every regard. Their humble heritage is a bonus, if anything. If we had moved in with foreign nobles to take the wealth of the people, it would have been bad PR for me, even worse than this operation already is."

As usual, Nahlen had a hard time following the king's ramblings. Still, one part he had understood: The merchant had said they 'had been needed' in past form, which meant that their new orders would lead them out of this damned camp at last.

"So what's our new task?" he asked, eager to receive good news, and even more eager to leave the uncomfortable presence of the many-faced man in his front.

"Now that your work is done, we have that precious foothold established. I think it's time we focused more on the work outside. There's already been sightings of enemy ships along the coastline, so we better hurry up and clean out those villages. While our small-caliber cannons repelled them easily enough, they probably won't just sit still and starve to death. So, while my other commanders will have to reinforce their positions at the villages they have taken, I need you to go and organize all the wolves in the camp. Coordinate in multiple groups and clean up the remaining villages a bit further inland. I don't want the ships of that blockade to sneak in a landing in some secret bay somewhere and smuggle back supplies."

For the first time since Corco had returned from his trip to Chutwa, Nahlen was genuinely glad to hear his voice. Maybe the king's suspicions had been lifted after he had seen Nahlen's hard work? No matter what, at last he had enough room to operate now, enough room to plan his future.

"Your wish is my command, King Corco." After his energetic acknowledgment, the mercenary turned and left the tent.

__________________________

With this single command from Corco, Nahlen had been removed from the doghouse. At last, he had suffered through his time of penance and regained the king's trust. Now, he just needed to deal with the Mason situation before it escalated into a problem. However, the commander had prepared for the worst long before the king had ever returned. If everything went according to Nahlen's plans, Mason would never make it to Qarasi Castle. An unfortunate, desperate and shameful suicide would prevent his inevitable confession before Dedrick. At the same time, Nahlen had decided to lay low and gain Corco's favor, at least for the moment. Easy enough, since his only competition were a bunch of green recruits, most of them trained up by himself.

Of course, he couldn't stay here in the long term. Even after the king's trust had returned, he could never be sure about his enigmatic master's motives, and he had lost his strongest ally to boot. As he saw it, He'd have to lay low and play obedient servant for now, until he found an opportunity to show his worth to Duke Herak. Only then could he switch sides in a way which would not cost him any power or wealth.

Though the plan was good, it had far too many holes at the moment. Yes, he could wait for an opportune time to stick a knife into Corco's back, but in a proper battle, he would only make a true difference if he could command enough men who were willing to follow him. Everything being said, if he wanted to make an impact on this war, he'd have to win over a whole lot more of the wolves, and maybe even a few of his new recruits. After the failed takeover of Saniya, he had already lost most of his loyalists. Whatever was left would have to be convinced with more solid evidence than grand promises of future riches. At least the merchant king's most recent orders order had given him the chance to secure that evidence.

Even though he had been confined to the camp for several days, Nahlen hadn't stood still. During his days of penance, he had asked around for the richest, juiciest villages in the area, in great secrecy of course. The traveling folk who had come to the camp for some quick silver had been ideal targets. After a few coins and some cheap wine, a local flame juggler had spilled a great secret. It seemed like the chief of a village closeby was the illegitimate son of the local ruler, Lord Cassius.

Though he was illegitimate, it seemed like the lord was very fond of this bastard son and trusted him deeply. As a result, the lord had left that bastard with a portion of his wealth and stashed it all beneath the son's house in the village. Now that Nahlen had been tasked to organize the second wave of requisitions, he had free reign to visit the place. Not only could he take the wealth of the local lord, but also the money Corco had entrusted him with to buy grain. With both sums put together, he could buy enough loyalty for a second chance at greatness.

Of course, the merchant king had implored him to use the money for the grains from the villages, rather than taking them like any self-respecting mercenary would. Worse yet, he had even tasked Nahlen to reign in his men and go easy on the 'poor villagers', but Nahlen had better ideas. In the chaos of war, what would one village matter anyways? Most likely, no one would ever notice if they jsut disappeared. Even if his deeds here were ever found out, this was just a village full of commoners. Who would care about a burnt village full of worthless dead people? None of the merchant king's soldiers would side with him on this issue, so he wouldn't be able to enforce any law. Not during war time when there were more pressing issues to consider.

From a distance, the blaring noise of a horn brought Nahlen back into reality. As his plan took further form in his head, the mercenary once again looked down onto the houses beyond the low palisade wall, where his men had begun their game of raze and plunder. Screams of fear and pain told him tales of good, honest mercenary work. Cold wind carried the crackling of flames to him and warmed his heart. The wolves had been starved for too long. It was time to feast at last.

However, as he rose to join in the fun and begin his search for that local lord's secret stash, he noticed something peculiar. Within the cacophony of screams, he failed to hear any laughter from his men. Instead, he could distinguish the high-pitched ping of metal on metal. At that very moment, the sound of gunfire burst through the atmosphere. This couldn't be, could it?

In a panic, Nahlen ran down the hill and sprinted into the village. These men were his only chance. He couldn't lose them! As soon as he crossed beyond the village's borders, through the gate in the short fence, he stood still, shocked into silence. Around him, there were no signs of plunder, and no dead villagers. Although the smell of blood and soot were oh so familiar to his nose, the hasty steps, strained grunts and enraged shouts in the distance told him the truth: This wasn't a slaughter, it was a battlefield. As he began to move towards the noise, the number of gunshots increased further.

"Hold steady! There's almost none of them left!"

One of his men shouted from somewhere in the center of the village, but Nahlen still couldn't see them. After he had drawn his sword and shield, he rushed ahead, always aware of the countlessfretful eyes which observed him from within the houses.

When he arrived in the village's central plaza, he found his men in a secure, defensive formation, with halberdiers on three sides and musketeers in the center. All around them lay the local villagers, the brown-skinned barbarians of Medala. As they drowned in their blood, Nahlen stepped over their bodies, never focused on the dying men themselves, but on their equipment.

Axes and swords, leather and chain mail. Somehow, these barbarians had equipment almost on the level of a proper army.

"What by the blazes happened here!?" he shouted out his anger and fear. "Why are you driven back by some peasants!?"

"Commander, something is wrong here!" Ulrik said, one of his last few loyal men. Behind the mercenary sat the rest of the formation, which enclosed a pile of injured wolves within. Only once Nahlen had motioned Ulrik to continue did he speak up again. "At first everything went well. When we came to attack the villagers, they lost their heads right away and rushed into the center of the village. Looked like they didn't plan to defend at all. We spread into the alleys to do our thing and make some coin, but a couple of us took after those locals to make sure they wouldn't do anything stupid. Who knew that they would dare lay an ambush against us here, out in the open where our formation would matter less?"

As he understood the severity of the situation, Nahlen swallowed heavily. Maybe there really was some illegitimate son here, and these were warriors in hiding, willing to protect their lord's child? If that was the case, it could spell his end in this land where status mattered more than anything. Even though he was technically considered a warrior, he could imagine what sort of fate awaited those who dared kill a high noble of Medala.

"What's with those excuses? Can't you deal with a handful of peasants by yourselves?" he deflected away from his own fears. In response, Ulrik only lowered his head. "Where are those attackers now?"

"They were surprisingly resilient, and fought almost to the last man. The few who survived the attack ran to the north." He motioned down the now empty road, away from the formation of the wolves. As Nahlen's mind churned, his chest grew tighter and tighter. Maybe this wasn't the end yet. This could still be salvaged.

"You organize a small team and make sure those warriors don't get out of here alive!" he barked. "And call on all the remaining wolves to assemble here."

"Sure thing, boss, but-"

"Didn't I say no more excuses!?" After he had shouted Ulrik down, Nahlen saw his minion's face, terrified and conflicted. Anger wouldn't help any. As it was, he was already running out of allies fast. Rather than blame his useless follower for his obvious mistake, he had to stay calm and reduce the damage caused by this blunder.

After he had breathed twice to cool his head, he said, "fine, speak."

"I'm sure you've heard, boss, but we've already blown the horn and pulled all the men together."

That was when Nahlen remembered the sound which had first brought his attention back to the village. Wasn't this their newest piece of equipment, provided by the king to be heard over vast distances? With horror, the commander pushed through the dense formation of his men, whose eyes still flitted all across the surrounding alleys, still focused on an invisible enemy. Right behind them he found the mountain of his wounded men. Yet beyond the injured lay another pile, one of good Arcavian soldiers taken long before their time.

This wasn't just bad, it was terrible. Weren't this at least ten of his men? Not only had he lost more of his wolves. Not only would this harm his reputation within the company even more. No, by all right, these were the king's troops, not his. If he came back to the camp now, he would be a traitor, someone who had disregarded orders and gotten the king's soldiers killed in the process. That alone was reason enough to cut off his head.

*Calm down. You can still get out of this.*

Yes, wasn't this the place of the local lord's son? Wasn't it an achievement to take out the local warriors in a skirmish, losses be damned? These were hidden experts the king's own spies had overlooked, but Nahlen had bravely stepped ahead and sacrificed his own men to remove the hidden nail, in service of the king. He would have loved to inform the king, but all he could have offered was a hunch, not enough to bother the great ruler with.

If anything, his loss of men would be considered honorable, nothing less. Wasn't this the story of a hero, of someone who deserved a reward? With that gain in reputation and the reward, in addition the still-hidden treasure of the local lord somewhere in the village, he could still put together the time and resources he needed for that second chance at glory. He just needed to turn his fictional hero's tale into reality.

"We'll need to surround the village," he said, as if in a trance. As he spoke, his eyes turned cold, and his voice firmed up. He wouldn't die in some barbarian land, and he wouldn't die poor either. "Surround this place and burn it to the ground. Let no one live. Remember this well: If anyone speaks of what really happened here today, all of us will be dead men."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

178 Accompanimen

When the enemy ships appeared on the horizon, Corco had long heard of their arrival. Why else would he be here, in this tiny village at the southern coast of Sinchay?

A total of eight ships slowly rose from the distant waves, ready to launch a raid on the small fishing village Corco and his troops had occupied. After they had been rebuffed only days earlier, the enemies had completely given up on their blockade. Eager to land and resupply at any cost, they had come in full force. Going with a different landing site from their first attempt was a smart choice, but it wasn't a surprise, and their maneuvers hadn't remained hidden from Corco's scouts.

With the help of their new fleet, made up of ships from Puscanacra and the Verdant Isles, they kept a close view on the entire coast line. At the same time, their telescopes and semaphore messaging gave them a crucial advantage. Under the current setup, not even a single ship could sneak its way past their defenses, let alone an entire fleet like this. It turned out thatit was pretty hard to hide a fleet just off the shore.

At the same time, their scouts had very much remained hidden from the enemy. Why else would this fleet proceed ahead, even if they knew an enemy lay in wait? In the end, this wasn't an especially novel tactic from the captain in charge of this group. Over the past few days, similar battles had been played out all along the coastline.

At his lookout atop the grain silo, Corco had the perfect view of the fight in the distance. As had become usual, the cannons began to fire a good while before the enemy ships were within effective range. This had been a tactic first deployed by one of Corco's commanders farther west. Although the cannons had little chance of hitting on the first volley, it had still proven effective. The noise alone from the early shots drained the enemy sailors of their morale and slowed down their approach. This way, the cannons had more time to fire; and time was desperately needed to deal with so many ships.

After all, they only had four of these small-caliber cannons on hand here in the village, despite their best efforts. Ever since Corco had set up a few production lines with the help of Egidius, Saniya's craftsmen had begun cannon production. However, making iron cannons from molds without cracking them was much more off a challenge than the narrower musket barrels had been. Since their first attempts at cast iron cannons proved failures, they had to return to rare and expensive bronze for this war.

Through all these delays, they had managed to produce a measly twenty-eight cannons in the past year, quite a small number to guard an entire coastline. At first, some commanders had suggested to drive back the enemy ships with their infantry instead. Since their cannons too few to form an effective defense, direct combat was a good alternative. After all, the sailors would be the most vulnerable when they tried to land on the shallow waters of these villages. However, Corco wouldn't want to further spread out and weaken their core forces, not when he expected an unwise attack from Pacha any day now.

Thus, the king had ordered his men to set up central defensive centers - in between key landing sites and some twenty kilometers out from the coastline - to correspond to the command structure of the enemy fleet; One defensive center for one fleet. Within these centers, their troops would wait together with the cannons and supplies, ready to intercept any enemy landing attempts as soon as they got word from the scouts. Of course, the wheels they had installed on the cannons helped as well. If winter had come sooner, they could have used sleigh-style runners to even greater effect, but one shouldn't be too greedy, really.

The result of their elaborate setup revealed itself right before Corco's eyes. Ball upon ball of solid iron broke into the enemy ranks, to smash apart the oars and hulls of their old-timey battleships. Compared to what Atau's Fastgrade fleet had dealt with along Arcavia's coastline, these vessels were no better than boats, with thin hulls not built to withstand cannon fire.

Here in the west, they had a significant superiority in equipment at sea, enough to make all of Ichilia's precious battleships useless. Of course they might have been able to break the blockade by force with their own ships, but the Verdant King hadn't given Corco part of his fleet for combat. The Verdant Folk were only in charge of transportation. The southern king also wasn't too eager to leave his strongest and most expensive weapons in the hands of relative strangers. The enemy's larger numbers and the complex layout of the Narrow Sea made a destruction of the blockade a dangerous endeavor anyways, so this passive defense was the safest option.

Though even beyond all of these reasons, Corco didn't want to increase the number of casualties even further. Of course it was a hypocritical notion from the man who had launched the attack, from the one who had taken some poor cultivator's life for his own benefit. Yet as he watched Medalan ships crash into each other, as he heard the cold southern wind carry over the Yaku men's screams pain and fear, the weight of his responsibilities threatened to crush him.

As soon as he saw the first ships turn and flee, as soon as he was sure that the battle had been won, Corco closed his eyes, no longer forced to observe.

"Cease fire," he whispered to his attendant who had silently stood by his side all this time.

"King Corco?" Tama asked in confusion. Of course she wouldn't want to leave out the chance to thin out the number of enemies and strengthen the morale of the southern army further. Corco's was the wrong decision, so she asked for confirmation.

"I said cease fire," the king repeated, this time with a strength to match his authority. "It's enough. If their captain isn't an idiot, he's learned his lesson after this and won't attack again. Even worse, we're wasting powder. We'll need all the ammo we can get once Pacha attacks."

"Understood, King Corco." Even though Corco's real reason to halt battle was much more personal, his reasoning was still sound. Now convinced, Tama carried out the king's instructions with great efficiency, as she always did. Armed with a flag, she stepped up to the edge of the silo and began to wave it in the wind. During combat, the horns didn't have much use, not with all the cannon fire.

"I'll be in my room for the evening. Only interrupt me if there's something important."

As he felt a crushing weight tighten around his chest, Corco left the top of the silo and went down into the streets of the half-deserted village. Although they hadn't forced any locals to relocate, many had left on their own accord, all too familiar with war and what it brought to the weak. In effect, they had turned countless Yaku all across the coastline into refugees. By now, any who had remained hid inside their homes, in hopes the invaders would overlook them. The streets were only inhabited by a few of Corco's soldiers, running back and forth to transport the powder and iron for their cannons.

As Corco marched past his soldiers, they saluted their king to the man, yet he barely noticed. He didn't stop nor look around until he reached the most spacious building in the city, the village chief's home. These would be his quarters for the duration of his stay, as offered by the chief, more out of fear than anything else. Of course, the chief himself had found shelter elsewhere in the village, and only a few of Corco's guards remained in the building to keep him company.

Once he had reached his private room, Corco sat down in front of his baggage, exhausted from the cold-blooded role he had played all day. There were a few things he would always carry with him even when he was on the road, and this time was no exception. After he had opened the long box of precious rose wood, he first removed the satin cloth cover.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Underneath hid the various compartments with their valuable contents. On the left were some of his scientific books in a neat stack - for reference - together with paper and ink in case he remembered something worth writing down. On the right was the compartment for Corco's armor, empty while it was in use, and up top he had a few small bottle-sized compartments. Though of course, the center of the box was the most important. Carefully let in, encased in satin, sat Corco's koto, the instrument he would play at the end rough days. Lately, he had spent much more time with it than he cared to admit.

Before he began his play, he took out the bottle, its brown contents swishing around. This was another new creation, made under his instructions. Ever since their first contact with the Verdant Isles, he had begun to import some of their agricultural products. Though the amount of cotton they had gained from the trade wasn't yet enough to revolutionize industry, at least they had gotten enough sugar cane to make some rum.

*A fitting second prize,* Corco mused.

With the cork stopper removed, a sharp smell rose into his nose. Though still a bit too raw and unrefined from the short ageing process, he already preferred the taste over most of their brandys. Plus, he wouldn't have to drink it pure anyways.

From across the room, he added a few more bits of new invention. Some sugar syrup would dilute the harsh drink, and some vanilla extract would round off the taste. Of course it was only artificial vanillin and not genuine vanilla, but beggars couldn't be choosers. After he added a generous amount of local ice and stirred a bit, Corco took a careful sip. First the cold of the ice numbed the dread in his bones, then the warmth of the rum replaced it. Of course, it was nothing more than an illusion. No amount of alcohol had ever solved a personal problem.

*Really, what's Pacha waiting for?*

At this point, he had expected his uncle to show up long ago. The longer Corco and his army stayed in enemy lands, the more damage they would do to the local population, and the worse it would be for his present reputation and his future plans. With this landing, Corco had wanted to force an early resolution, but now they were stuck in the north, reliant on a response from Pacha. At least he still had a few cards left.

If Nahlen managed to clean out the hinterland a bit more, they would be able to push further north and disrupt Pacha's own supply lines to Huaylas. That way, they could all starve together. With all sides in equally precarious positions, he would be surprised if Pacha's unstable alliance of particular interests would hold together for longer than his own monolithic army.

So long as he could solve the Nahlen problem, that was. Despite his best efforts to give up some control and burden, he still felt bad about loading that much responsibility onto Tama, even after she had shown herself to be willing and capable. He just hoped she wouldn't do anything she would regret later on.

After the drink had calmed his nerves, food for the soul would be next on the menu. As he had done every day since his return from Chutwa, Corco bent down over his instrument and played a short melody. This time he played around with a few piano pieces. Though they weren't composed for koto, transposing had been easy enough, and the challenge took his mind off his worldly troubles.

Maybe, once they were no longer forced to use all their efforts on wartime industry, he could have his people make a clavichord at least. A music revolution would be nice, much more pleasant than all the violent revolutions they had been plagued with in his first ruling year.

As the plucked strings released their sound into the lonely night, Corco looked out of the narrow windows, a harsh wind in his face. Before the start of this war, he hadn't been this troubled. Before, he had always been the true heir, the defender, the one in the absolute moral right. While everyone else had acted like monsters, he had played fair, in accordance with tradition. He had been the good guy. Ever since his return, that was not the case any longer. He had launched the attack, had displaced people, had burned crops.

Of course he understood that his actions had been necessary. If he didn't start to play dirty, he might lose this contest of kings, even with all of his advantages combined. Even more, he felt that his actions justified his means, that his ruthlessness would, ultimately, be to everyone's benefit. Yet he also remembered that these were common excuses for tyrants, words to justify their cruel, despotic acts. Maybe that was what he had become: A cruel despot. Today, the music failed to cheer up the king.

As he began his second piece for the night, he chose one he had played on several occasions before. Something familiar to conjure up a simpler time. As he entered the second movement, a peculiar sound joined in. From somewhere within the village, a flute began to accompany his song, sweet and sad to lament the loss of his ideals. Somehow, the company soothed him, and he calmed down at last.

If nothing else, he wanted to guarantee that his actions would benefit others, rather than himself. Even if he had to become a monster, he would go ahead with his plans and charge towards the future in his memories. His own people, his own allies, would be behind his back, ready to follow into a better world. The flute had made him understand that he wasn't alone, that there were millions who relied on him. What was a single soul in exchange for an entire nation? Freed of his burdens, the king continued to play deep into the night, always followed by a lonely flute on the wind.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

179 Maybe

After they had searched and cleaned out the village, Nahlen had called back the rest of his men. Once all the small groups had returned from throughout the hinterland, they had returned back south to the army's central camp. As they left the bodies and the fires behind them, the commander convinced himself of his own safety.

This would be fine, wouldn't it? After all, the local lord's warriors had secretly plotted against them in the village. Even so, they had withstood the ambush with minimal losses. Under the circumstances, they had done remarkably well, hadn't they? He had made sure all the possible witnesses were removed as well. Even better, this morning, the first snow of winter had started to fall. In a few hours, it would be hard to even find the leftover ruins of the village under the covers of white, let alone any evidence of his wrongdoing.

Of course, Nahlen wasn't without worry. They hadn't found the lord's secret treasure in the end. Either it had been too well hidden or it had never existed, an exaggerated rumor from that drunk traveler. Still, so long as he could survive this crisis and retain Corco's trust, there were still many chances to make a fortune in the future.

Now that he thought about it, wasn't it audacious of the local ruler to ambush their troops? Wouldn't it be necessary to punish them, to take the lord's city for security reasons alone? This would be a great chance for Nahlen to distinguish himself. After all, his wolves were the only men among the king's troops with any sort of practical battlefield experience.

Once he was in charge of the attack, the problem of his finances could be solved in an instant. Secret stash or not, a city would hold much more treasure than some tiny village. So long as the wolves could cross the enemy walls first, he could make enough plunder to win more over enough men for his plans.

While Nahlen ordered his excuses to the king and planned his redemption, he led his troops back into the camp. His men had been ordered to show strength in their posture, despite their embarrassment. Everyone knew that they had failed, but they needed to show strength to uphold the illusion.

He was shocked when the gates closed as soon as they entered the camp. All around them - on walls and between tents - stood the king's troops with their weapons held high.

"Commander Nahlen of the Wolf Mercenaries and the ten group leaders under him. You have been accused of disobedience, murder and arson. Lay down your arms and come with us. You shall stand trial before the king."

Before him stood the annoying girl he had clashed with so many times in Saniya: Tamaya di Pluritac, another one of the king's blind followers. For a moment he considered resistance, but he had no more than a hundred men at his disposal. Even though they were elites, they couldn't fight their way out of such a tight encirclement.

"Put down your weapons," he ordered his men, even though many had already done so at the first sign of trouble. Convinced that he had made the right choice, he turned to the loyalist girl again. "Lead the way."

Nahlen didn't know how their deeds had become known, but nothing was decided yet. Now that it had come to this, he would just have to lay his fate in the hands of his merchant employer, the merchant king. Wouldn't this be an easy charge to avoid then? Just like the way he had given up on punishing Mason, Corco had always looked weak, and now he needed Nahlen more than ever before. The commander was certain: His fate was far from sealed.

__________________________

As he felt the ship below his bottom sway in the heavy currents once more, a shallow sigh escaped Mason's dry throat. Every time he felt a bump and every time he heard a creak of his floating prison, he hoped that something might give. Maybe the ship would run aground or sink, and he would be able to escape in the confusion.

Then however, he felt the cold steel of his shackles weigh down his hands and feet; and his heart sank. In the end, he was just a quartermaster, not a fighter. With all this extra weight on him, he wouldn't be able to swim even if he had known how. Really, that king had done his hardest to make Mason's escape impossible.

Humiliated like a slave, he felt deep resentment towards his captors. Of course, there was no reason to complain to the king himself. Mason had reached for the greatest price on this barbarian island and failed to attain it. While his failure was a tragedy, the king's decision had been more than lenient. However, Mason took personal offense to being tricked by that ridiculous fake alchemist. Who did that charlatan think he was? If that 'Bombasticus' hadn't spent his entire life tricking people, would he have been able to lure Mason into such a sneaky trap?

"Damn bastard," he muttered and sank back on his bunk.

Despite Mason's frustration, not everything was lost. Although Dedrick liked to play the role of a cold-hearted mercenary, he was different from the other wolves. As a former knight, Dedrick was weighed down by his principles. Since his fairness guaranteed everyone a slice of the pie, it was a very useful trait for a mercenary leader to have. Even better, those principles could become a major boon for Mason very soon. With Dedrick's occasional softness, wasn't there a very real chance he could still be spared? Maybe if he appealed to their past, he would only spend some time in prison until the king had cooled off or forgotten about him.

"Boss, food!"

A startled Mason looked to the door, where one of the mercenaries tasked with his security entered. Since the king had declared his punishment a matter for the wolves to solve, the wolves would take care of every aspect. His hands soon held a tray with the now familiar hard, black bread. However, to his joy his jailer had added a piece of salty meat and even a small cup of red wine.

"Thank you," Mason said, and began to devour the food. Yes, even under these circumstances, there were still many among the wolves who were sympathetic to their long-time companion. For now, not all hope was lost.

"You know boss, me and the boys think the way they've treated you is crazy. We'd want to do more, but there's the king's blood hounds still." His last words only a whisper, the jailer peeked over his shoulder. Even though this was an internal matter, even the naive king had learned his lesson from the recent months. Thus, he had sent several of his own warriors with them on this ship, to monitor their actions and guarantee that Mason would be brought before Dedrick. Since they had set sail along the river, these observers had been critical of every single move his men had made, and forced them into giving Mason only the absolute minimum rations every day. Sneaking in extra food like this was risky business.

"Well, once we make it to Qarasi Castle, Dedrick will at least treat me better. For old time's sake, if nothing else." With his sad smile he aimed to cheer up his jailer and gain his sympathy at the same time.

"We just want you to know that all the boys are still behind you. Commander Nahlen too. He wanted to say that he's not forgotten your hard work. We won't let anything happen to you."

Somehow, the jailer's words were strange. Wasn't there some deeper meaning behind them? For a while longer, the prisoner and jailer talked. More and more, Mason felt like he wasn't alone. Maybe there was still hope, even beyond Dedrick. Maybe, Nahlen had a plan to break him out. Maybe they could stage a mutiny and organize an escape before they reached their goal. Until their arrival, there was plenty of time left.

__________________________

Despite Nahlen's carefully laid plans, the trial in front of the king wasn't going very well.

"King Corco, these accusations are baseless slander!" he shouted. "We have always been loyal to you! Only days ago, we managed to snuff out an ambush of enemy warriors, and extinguish it before those hidden enemies could do any more harm to our operations in the hinterland. All this at the loss of my own men. How could I be accused of anything other than heroism? But this witch here tries to frame us because she is biased against foreigners!"

With his last words, he pointed at Tamaya in accusation. The king had always shown suspicion towards this girl. This would be a good chance to stoke the flames further.

"Silence, traitor!" the girl shot back. "Long has this servant suspected your heinous actions, and now they have been confirmed. Spies of the king, as well as ordinary soldiers not under this servant's command, have followed your troop and observed the entire process. They saw how you entered the village with evil intentions, how you began to plunder, **** and kill, as well as your incompetence when you lost the king's valuable soldiers to a handful of common farmers. Your vile acts have long been reported to the king, as has your lack of ability!"

To gauge his position, Nahlen looked over to Corco. Somehow, he felt that the king looked quite upset behind his usual mask of indifference. Even better, his slight scowl seemed to be aimed at the witch rather than himself. Of course it would be. Presented before him was unprovoked infighting right in the middle of a war, and Tamaya's evidence was more than strenuous. Behind Nahlen, his group leaders also began to stink up the place with their complaints.

"Nonsense!" one shouted.

"We will not become pawns in your political games, witch!" screamed another.

"Shut the fuck up!" Even more stern than usual, the king exploded and cursed the tent into silence.

Even though the group leaders had superficially upset Corco, their reckless actions showed the unhappiness of the wolves. Since they dared to shout right into the king's face, the group leaders had proven: So long as there was no solid evidence of Nahlen's actions, his men would no longer listen to the king's commands if he judged against them. The death of a few villagers wasn't worth an internal conflict. Maybe, he could still sway the king's opinion and delay the trial until the end of the war. Plenty of time to switch sides.

"King Corco, no matter what you may have heard, this servant has never felt anything but admiration and servility towards you." Against his own wishes, Nahlen actually bowed to the merchant with the crown. At least this way, he could hide his sour expression. "Still, if you feel like this servant has wronged you in any way, give me the chance to make up for it. I'm willing to take the blame for the loss of soldiers and accept a demotion. From now on, me and my men will be the first to rush into all further battles. Please allow me to repent for the loss of men in this way."

Behind his servile attitude, Nahlen couldn't help congratulate himself for his cleverness. Wouldn't this still solve all his problems? In a few days, he would still be the first to enter the local lord's city in revenge for their fallen soldiers, ready to rob it blind. Whether or not he held any title didn't matter much either. The king had no direct control over the wolves. His men would still listen to his command, no matter what that fake king thought.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple." Again Corco looked at Tamaya with his scowl, but when his eyes turned to Nahlen, they had grown as cold as the ice of Medala's south. "According to reliable reports from multiple sources, you have attacked and plundered a village against my orders. In response, multiple villagers fought back and you actually managed to lose warriors in the process. For fuck's sake, you lost my soldiers in a battle against fucking farmers! This is bad on so many levels I don't even know where to begin! It's vicious, it's insubordinate, and worst of all: it's incompetent. You almost lost a war against a fucking village! Considering we're still in a war, I really should have you demoted, just like you wanted."

"Yes, I will receive my punishment." Quick to lower his head and hide his grin, Nahlen thanked his king for his stupidity.

"I wasn't done," Corco's cold voice replied. "Does this look familiar to you?"

The king threw a piece of bronze in the dirt, right in front of Nahlen's lowered face. Upon it, he could see several wave patterns beneath one of those strange symbols of the old Medalan language.

"No, what is it?" a curious Nahlen asked. Although he understood that it must be the seal of some local house, he had never seen this specific banner before.

"I'm surprised you wouldn't know it. It's the sigil of Cassius, the lord of this estate, and the master of the village you destroyed. This seal was retrieved from within the burnt ruins of that village."

"What... does that mean?"

This was impossible! If something like this had existed, they would have absolutely found it in their search of the village. As he looked towards Tamaya, the witch showed him a demonic grin. By the time he got over his confusion, his time to defend himself had already passed.

"To anyone who doesn't know: This was the possession of an illegitimate, but nonetheless recognized son of Lord Caius Cassius. You and your mercenaries have killed noble blood, and that is not something I can show leniency on. A good portion of my army belongs to the southern lords. If I let you break the rules of Medala however you want, they will no longer follow me, and I can't have that kind of unrest. Not during the war, and not after. The rumors are already spreading too, despite my best efforts. So here's my judgment:"
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Wait!" Nahlen shouted in the knowledge of what was to come, but a guard's halberd hit the back of his neck and took away his coordination for a few seconds. Sprawled on the ground, he looked up at his adjudicator.

"For the crime of killing noble blood, Commander Nahlen, as well as the ten group leaders under him, will be brought to Quitaracra and executed in front of its walls, before the eyes of Lord Cassius. Let's hope that's gonna be enough blood sacrifice to appease the lords. Drag them away."

"No, wait! It was the witch! The witch has planned all of it! None of it is true!" As soon as it was too late, Nahlen found his voice. He kicked and screamed while he was bound and dragged away, together with his subordinates. Now he understood that their threats of insubordination had been empty. There were only around seven hundred wolves in the army at this point, compared to thousands of Medalan natives. Even worse, with this judgement of insubordination, incompetence and murder of nobility, most wolves wouldn't even dare speak up. He had been deemed a sinner, and now he would suffer the consequences.

__________________________

"You know, these days, our talks are the only thing I still look forward to. That, and the wine." After Mason had thanked his jailer, he sipped his wine, which tasted sweeter with every day he spent in the bleak prison.

"It's the least we can do, boss. Really, it is," the jailer answered with a cramped grin. Mason understood that he felt guilty about his inaction. All these days, the quartermaster had waited for Nahlen or the wolves aboard to save him, but so far they hadn't made a move. Still, he pretended indifference.

"So tell me what the men have been talking about on the ship. Any new gossip?"

While his subordinate's words turned into background noise, Mason thought more about his future. By now they were a single day away from Qarasi, and neither Nahlen nor his men had made any attempts to break him free. Maybe this steady stream of wine and meat was nothing more than a small consolation from Nahlen, a way to make himself feel better for giving up on his most trusted follower.

In the first place, hadn't this entire undertaking been Nahlen's idea? Mason had just been the pawn, really, just following orders. Wasn't he innocent? The thought that he would be punished while the mastermind got away filled Mason with a seething anger. Over the days in prison, it had festered and taken hold of every part of his body.

*It might be fun to uncover Nahlen's great conspiracy* he thought.

If, at the end of it all, he would be able to save his life as a result of his enjoyment, that would be a nice bonus. Yes, Mason had decided: As soon as he reached Qarasi, he would confess everything. If he went down, he would at least drag that selfish bastard Nahlen with him.

When he tried to celebrate his wise decision with another sip of the sweet wine, he missed his mouth and spilled red all over his dirty vest. Right after, the cup slipped from his hands. His fingers tingled, but they refused to close. A confused and desperate Mason stared at his jailer, who had ceased his gossip, but didn't look surprised in the slightest.

"I'm sorry, boss," he muttered, with genuine pain on his face. "Boss Nahlen says it's the only way to make sure we'll be okay. We all know how much you like to talk. Nothing I could do."

Although he tried to grab the traitor by the neck, make him pay, the coward only had to stand up to get away. When Mason tried to follow, his legs shook so hard he lost control and landed face-first on the planks of his cell. Soon, the shakes had spread all throughout his body. Not long after, he couldn't even feel the sway of his prison over his own convulsions.

"Really, I'm sorry boss. I really liked our talks too."

His jailer's distressed voice was the last thing Mason ever heard.

__________________________

*Maybe the entire thing has been fake, start to finish,* Nahlen thought.

Before him stretched the walls of Quitaracra, the place he had tried to plunder. Other than a few confused faces on the walls, no one else would become a witness to his plight. To his side stood his ten group leaders, while behind he could hear the heavy, nervous breath of men about to score their first kills. Although he couldn't turn his head in his pillory, he still felt the muzzles of a hundred muskets aimed at his back. They were unaccustomed to executions, and thus Nahlen had been afforded plenty of time to think.

*Where did those villagers get proper weapons, and even armor? Maybe, someone expected an attack from us?*

"Load your weapons!" Someone shouted behind him, followed by busy activity from the one hundred men responsible for Nahlen's impending death.*

*Maybe, someone tasked those traveling folk to tell me a tall tale of hidden treasure... to make sure I'd raid the village with the armed farmers in it.

"Aim!" the same voice shouted, and the activity stopped soon after.

*Maybe, there never was an illegitimate son, and the seal was as much of a lie as everything else. Just a convenient excuse to get rid of a traitor.*

Of course, Nahlen's revelations didn't matter, not any more. As he thought about the great future he would leave unlived, tears began streaming down his face. One last time, he tried to appeal to his master of the last three years, tried to appeal to all the worth he had brought to the Fastgrade merchants. He knew that Corco was somewhere behind him.

"Please don't-"

"Fire!"

Greatness was farther away than ever before. The enemy had won, Nahlen had lost. After a series of bangs, the world went dark.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

180 Real Enemy

As Corco picked up the dumbbells, sweat dripped from his face and landed between his feet. While his use of aproper exercise and training equipment had made Corco's workouts much more efficient than those of his contemporaries, he still felt like he needed to do more. His last fight against the cocky xianxia master had been far too close for comfort; and his lack of fitness was partially to blame. After he had taken over as king, his duties as well as his perfectionist plans had sucked up all of his time. As a result, his training had suffered, to almost catastrophic results in Chutwa. Determined to not let it happen again, he raised the dumbbells.

Though as he raised his head with the rest of his body, not only did the tent around him come into view, but so did one of his many troubles these days. With a frown to mirror many before it, he looked at Tamaya who had shown patience as she had waited for the king to acknowledge her presence in the room.

"Okay, talk."

"King Corco, we have received multiple important messages which need discussing.

"Right," he said as he continued his workout. Undeterred by Corco's curtness, Tama continued to read off her notes.

"First, our troop detachments have made their way far enough inland to cut Huaylas off from King Pacha's position. Control of the territory does not seem to be a problem so far. While Nahlen might have been a traitor, at least his actions proved useful in the end. Ever since he burned down that village, we started spreading false rumors of the incident."

"Uhuh."Although his muscles burned, although he knew it was time to stop, Corco kept up his workout.

*Better than starting an argument in this moody state.*

Still, Tama pressed on, despite Corco's best attempts to show his unwillingness.

"In the rumors, we have implied that the raid was performed in retaliation to the villagers' resistance. No one within the occupied lands will resist us any longer, at least so long as we do not overstep our boundaries and leave the inhabitants to their business. In that sense, the rumors have been a great success."

A heavy thud interrupted Tama's explanation as the irons landed on the ground. After he had been sufficiently annoyed by her casual attitude, he decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Look, I know what sort of rumors you've spread, and I know why. There's no reason to pretend." As he spoke, he walked over to Tama, who handed him a piece of cloth to dry his body.

"I believe that I have made the most appropriate decision under the circumstances," she answered, still in a voice calm enough to let Corco explode.

"Oh will you fuck off with that shit!? Have you not walked around in our camp out there?" he shouted, his hand with the towel pointed towards the tent's exit. "Everyone whispers about the evil witch who entrapped Nahlen and left me no choice but to execute him. And why did you do something like that? According to my soldiers, you were jealous of Nahlen's growing position in my staff, or you're a slighted lover, or any one from a number of petty reasons. Meanwhile, outside the camp, the locals are telling stories that you were the one who ordered the retaliation against the village, without my, the king's, knowledge. Even I've heard the rumors, so how could my spymaster not be aware of them?"

"King Corco has given me free reign to handle the situation, and I have done as asked, with minimal damage to the empire, and to you as well."

"Well, if I had known this was how you'd do things, I never would have allowed it!" Once Corco had dried off his face, he sat down on his chair. "I know what you're trying to do. You're getting rid of Nahlen, you're getting the locals in line and you're defending my reputation all at the same time. But the way you handled it sucks. Just listen to the fuckdamn gossip."

"These sorts of rumors are only temporary, and they should have no impact on the morale of the troop, nor on your reputation. Thus, they should have no relevance."

"Right," the king sneered. "A perfect ending, every one is happy. But what about you? You're now the crazy witch who keeps killing people out of jealousy, or spite. That's not gonna go away. Dirt like that sticks, always. How am I supposed to handle this? In the official version, you went behind the king's back when you let Nahlen kill all those villagers. Are you aware that I have to punish you for this or the entire story falls apart?"

"Then you should do so without reserve," a still immovable Tama said.

"But you just did what I fucking asked! I gave the orders, even though I didn't know the details. I won't let anyone take the blame for something I'm responsible for. Fuck everyone, and fuck my reputation, I'm not punishing you."

For the first time since their talk began, Tama showed a reaction. Her perfect posture loosened as her shoulders slumped, and a sigh escaped her lips. Even after all this time, it was rare for her to drop her mask in front of Corco.

"King Corco, please listen. Punishment is not a big problem for me. After all, I am not a general, or an administrator. I am a mere spy. A demotion into a position behind the scenes would fit me far better than the work I have been forced to oversee so far. Even more: What better weapon for a spy to have than fear? Let them spread the rumors, let them be afraid of my lunacy. They will only make my work more effective."

Although Corco wanted to get angry again and deny her request, he understood that she was right. As little as he liked it, this was the best solution. As he breathed out, his anger disappeared and was replaced by frustration.

"Well, fuck. Now I really regret giving you that power," he said in the end.

Tama just smiled and waited for the king's decision.

"Fine, what's done is done. You get your wish. You get to work outside of the public eye, you get to be feared, and you get to take the blame for everything. Just like you wanted. I still don't have to like it though."

"And for your concern I am deeply grateful."

Corco sighed again. Now that the biggest issue was resolved, he took out his old pistol and began to clean it. The regular cleaning after his training sessions had become a bit of a ritual.

"This has been as exhausting as it was useless. What else is on the agenda? You said there were multiple messages, right?"

Tama nodded.

"Since we have cut through Sinchay and reached the Argu, receiving runners from the capital has become much easier. It appears Inti has had quiet good fun during the last Triumvirate Meeting, when Official Pallatio accused everyone in the room of collusion. He even tried to accuse us of breaking with traditions until Inti produced a letter from the lonely island about the legitimacy of our crossing. Then he seems to have accused House Ichilia, his own allies, because of their inactivity during the war. "

"Well, their sluggish attitude is hardly a surprise, is it?" Corco asked. "Lord Ichilia won't intervene so long as Pacha doesn't come crawling for help. That's the entire point of his indifference."

"Still, Official Pallatio seems to believe that King Pacha's family has been paid off by us in some way. Apparently, he has also accused King Amautu of dishonorable actions for shielding our assets in Porcero from King Pacha's new allies. Your brother was not amused by the accusation."

As they thought about Amautu's upset face and the growing rift between the two northern kings, both Corco and Tama smiled, as if they had forgotten their previous disagreement.

"Those accusations don't make any sense in the first place." Corco added with a bemused voice and a wide, dramatic swing of his arm. "I mean, at the start, Pacha was the one who ganged up with Ichilia and Amautu to corner us, so what changed to make alliances dishonorable? Unlike him, we've not even become proper allies with those two. We're just making sure Pacha is forced to fight us one on one. How's a fair fight ever dishonorable?"

"Of course it is honorable. We should just let the old man vent his frustration. It will only harm King Pacha's reputation among the lords further." Tamaya still had suppressed her smile. As she thought about Corco's strategy, an unusual sternness entered her expression. "Though I do wonder if we are prepared for our eventual confrontation with Pacha's army. No matter our current position, we have far fewer, and far less experienced warriors. Will we be able to withstand a direct charge of elite Pluritac warriors?"

Of course Tama should know about Corco's preparations, but she still asked for an explanation. Maybe she tried to improve his mood, since she knew that her master loved showing off his toys. Corco didn't really mind, and was more than willing to play along.

"Since you're still unconvinced of our course, let me assure you: We're decades, no, centuries ahead of Pacha in terms of weapons technology. No matter how many martial arts masters he has under his command, they won't stand a chance against modern weapons. Back in the bronze age, the simple knowledge of iron production was enough to create a giant empire and defeat anyone in battle. The step from swords and axes to muskets and cannons is an even bigger one than the creation of iron, at least if you ask me. So long as we don't screw up and stay focused, there is no reason to be worried."

As he continued to clean his trusty old wheellock pistol, Corco thought with glee about all the little improvements they had made since he had arrived in Saniya. All of them put together would amount to more strength than anyone on Pacha's side could imagine.

"I would never doubt our victory... however... We have received another letter from Official Brymstock."

"Wait, from Brym? What happened?" In response to Tama's worried tone, Corco put down his weapon and looked up.

"According to the report we have received, a large contingent of Duke Herak's men have moved out of Porcero and to the south, most likely to reinforce King Pacha. Although he attempted to have them delayed by the local bandits like he did with their food supplies, the troop is much too large to risk any attacks. They will arrive at the enemy camp in the Narrows within a few days."

Rather than worry, Corco leaned back in his chair and sighed in relief.

"That's good, isn't it? Pacha's supply lines to his bread basket in Huaylas are interrupted, his uncle's ships are stranded at sea and now he's even got reinforcements. There's no reason for my good uncle to stand by and let me humiliate him any longer. Now he'll have to come out and fight me."

In the end, it turned out to be good news. A reaction from Pacha was just what Corco had wanted after all. Still, Tama's worries weren't fully alleviated.

"However, Duke Herak's troops seem to carry modern weaponry as well. If Captain Atau's report is correct, their equipment should be even more advanced than our own, with larger caliber cannons. With no more advantage in weaponry, will we be able to prevail in a fight?"

Again the king picked up his pistol, one which would lose ever more of its worth with further technological progress. As he replied, a grin spread across his face.

"Ah, things aren't quite as one-sided as you might think. Sure, Borna managed to cast some bigger cannons in the last few years, but that's not gonna help them in a land war, especially one fought in the snow. The heavy cannons will make their army too slow, so they'll have to rely on ordinary muskets instead. And when it comes to tech, we've not been standing still either. Sure, Herak's people might be a century or so ahead of Pacha's army, but we're ahead at least two. To me, this sounds like a good chance to show off some of our hard work."

__________________________

To Pacha, Herak's figure didn't inspire confidence. With his scary mask and the constant scowl on his lips, he looked like a demon straight out of the stories. For a moment he wondered if his reliance on someone like that could be justified before the ancestors. However, he had changed his opinion as soon as he looked at the reinforcements he had brought with him. Although the new troops only numbered a few hundred, they carried with them their weapons, no less advanced than the hand cannons Corco had used to defeat his uncle's assassins back during the succession war.

"Lord Herak, this king welcomes you into his humble camp!"

Despite all the splendor of the central kingdom's warriors before him, Pacha's newest ally had decided to acknowledge the king's might with only a short nod.

"Hm. Now that my men are here, you can have a few days to get your people used to the machlocks. Then we can finally move out and deal with this nonsense issue."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Since this demon did not want to listen to the king's command, it appeared as if he had to show a hero's strength. Pacha's voice turned sharp as he stepped up to intimidate his new servant.

"It means, King Pacha, that you have made poor work of conquering the south." Unlike his useless allies, the brawny man in the mask did not back down. Instead, he grabbed the giant bow in his back. The weapon would be useless this close, but it was still a clear sign of hostility.

"We could have ended this battle a long time ago," Pacha repeated Pallatio's fabricated excuse. "Yet like the good allies we are, we awaited the arrival of Lord Herak and the rest of our allies to share in our glory, and our spoils. Yet somehow, these allies were delayed as they failed to conquer a single merchant's shop even after several months."

Reminded of his own failure, Herak stared at Pacha with indifferent eyes, before he took half a step back. Even though he had backed down, Pacha couldn't see any fear or waver in the demon's eyes. Maybe he was not capable of such human emotions.

"I have not come here to start a fight," Herak said. "I have come to end a war. No matter who is at fault, your patience will prove an advantage in the end. Since you failed to move, Corco has advanced his troops further inland and dug in. If your reports are to be believed, his men are spread all across the southern coast to box in your fleet, and even more are stationed inland to cut off our supply lines."

"True indeed!" As a great general himself, Pacha understood the demon's hints right away. "If we move now, the southerners will have no time to organize a retreat. Their only choice will be to pull their troops together and fight us head-on. So long as your men and weapons can deliver what you have promised, our victory will be assured."

Wasn't this all Pacha had ever wanted? A fair duel with Corco? With no tricks, no sneaky methods? With this, their starting line would be even. If he had to deal with demons to get a fair fight, then he would grit his teeth and welcome them as friends.

"Oh, don't worry. I will do my best to ensure our victory," the demon's inhuman, stiff mouth formed a crooked grin. "After all, I still have an old score to settle with that brother of yours... and even more, you've paid us well for our muskets." Herak sneered, but Pacha didn't care. In the end, he only had to pay something that wasn't his in the first place.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"So when will you begin to take your present? Soon?" he asked, more out of curiosity than genuine interest. Even so, the bold answer shocked the king.

"Ahaha, it seems like you don't understand, king. Our delegation had long reached the south, ready to take over our new lands."

The cold laugh let a chill run down Pacha's spine. Maybe his worst enemy stood right beside him.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

181 Cold

"Shouldn't it be warmer in the north? That's what the sailors say." Alca blew some hot air from his lungs into his hands while he looked out of the pane-less window of their temporary shelter, at the snow-covered houses. When they had first arrived, the village had still looked fine, with no snowflake in sight. Now however, everything was covered in the stuff.

"You don't get it. It's the newest fashion. The nobility call it winter, and I hear it's spread all across the empire." One of the guys in his company joked. Killari had always been too brash for Alca's taste, even though they had grown up on the same street, and worked together for years.

Except for Alca, Killari's stupid joke tickled a laugh out of everyone in the hut. After all, here in the absolute nothingness of Medala's countryside, this sort of nonsense was the only form of proper entertainment they had. Well, that and the gambling, of course.

"Rather than play around, you better keep your head sharp, Killari," Lieutenant Alca said, though he only earned a sneer from his friend and subordinate. "Don't forget, we're here to fulfill our orders, not to joke around."

On direct order of the great King Corcopaca, their small ten-man team had been stationed in the north-eastern corner of the king's freshly occupied territory almost a full month ago. Together with many other companies just like them, they were spread over the villages along the eastern border, to control the occupied commoners and act as scouts, as well as the first line of defense.

Although their time had been filled with nothing but boredom so far, some day soon the peacock king Pachacutec would send his own troops towards them. Until the rest of the king's army arrived, Alca and his company were tasked to hold off the enemy and keep their supply lines blocked off.

"What orders? Bullcrap," a frustrated Killari murmured. "Nothing's gonna happen anyways. We've been here for a month and all we've done is freeze off our fingers. Maybe that other king is scared, so he won't come anyways. So what's the harm in us relaxing a bit? Aren't you sick of always being so stuck-up?"

In truth, his friend wasn't wrong. Back when they had left the camp on a journey of conquest, Alca had also expected something else from their mission, something more... heroic. When he and Killari had spent their days on the marketplace in search of an employer for the day, they would always hear the old beggar in the corner, who would tell stories for coin.

His tales had always been those of brave warriors, their days filled with honorable battles, great banquets and beautiful maidens. Sometimes, they would even slay a legendary beast and become true heroes of the people. So far, all Alca's company had seen on their quest were dilapidated farming villages and more snow than they cared for.

Even though he was right, Killari's attitude was a problem. Just because they were old friends didn't give him the right to talk like that to his superior. With narrowed eyes, Alca turned to the soldier to put him back in his place.

"Don't think you can do whatever you want just because the sergeants aren't around. Aren't you trying to make me look weak in front of the other men? Maybe you're not happy that you weren't put in charge of our company, but since the sergeant made me company leader, it's not your place to decide. Keep talking like that and I have to take you in out for mouthing off."

"What company leader?" Killari scoffed and put his bowl of bland soup on the floor; they hadn't been graced with a table in their temporary shelter. "Aren't you just a good boy who follows all the orders? Why else would they pick you over me?"

Across the table, his other subordinates snickered. They seemed to consider all of this a riot, and a welcome diversion from the freezing boredom of their duties.

At once, Alca put strength into his legs, to get up and make his old friend understand just why he had been picked for the important role. Though in the end, he calmed down before he rose up. Now he was a lieutenant, no longer the drunken boy who would start a brawl in the tavern. He had to control himself.

"And that's why the commander didn't put you in charge. You got no discipline. They're not looking for the strongest, not if the strongest don't do as they're told. Following orders is the basics for any good soldier. I'm serious, if you don't learn your place and shut up soon, you might just end up like Sergeant Nahlen did."

As he spoke, the soldiers in the room calmed down, and the frivolous atmosphere disappeared. Even his loudmouth friend made a gloomy face and lowered his head. Nahlen had been very popular among the troops, so mere mention of his fate had sapped all the enthusiasm out of his men. After all, Nahlen had been the one to train them, the one to give them a future. Although the physical exercises in the camp were even harder than carrying logs off the southern ships and corporal punishment was a daily ritual for new recruits, they had been nothing but commoners a mere two seasons ago.

At the time, they had been ordinary peons, living in Saniya hand to mouth, getting by with whatever work they could find for the day. Sure, some of the new recruits were bakers, some were fishermen and some were tailors. But most of them had been simple day laborers, like Alca and Killari. With Nahlen's help, they had all gone through a remarkable transformation in only a few short months.

Through their training, they had received the chance to rise up and become members of the prestigious warrior class, true servants of their king, and true nobility to boot. Although for now, they would still have to prove themselves in battle before the old nobility would accept them as real warriors, their current status was still far more than any of them had ever dreamed of. And Nahlen's training had made all of it possible, right before he had been entrapped and killed.

"It's not right, you know?" Killari mumbled under his breath, after he had looked out of the window to make sure no-one outside of their company would listen in.

"Shh. Don't even think that, let alone say it!" a panicked Alca hissed at his friend. "If you make fun of me a bit it's still fine. All you'll get in return is some bamboo whips and some time in the hole. But if you dare question the king's actions..." His sentence trailed off as he didn't even dare speak of the true reasons for his fear.

Frustrated, Killari kicked away the rest of his cold soup.

"Damn... I'm not questioning the king and you know it damn well!"

Of course Alca knew what his old friend had really implied. Although they were former commoners and didn't really understand the details of noble politics, word had still spread. It seemed like Nahlen's troops had caused a lot of trouble during their requisitions, overstepped their boundaries and ignored orders. As a result, their great king had been left with no choice but to order their executions. However, word on the wind was that the beautiful noble lady who followed the king around was a witch in disguise, an evil monster who had planned Nahlen's murder from the start.

Since Alca no longer replied, half from fear and half from frustration, Killari only snorted and returned to his own broodings. Silence was better. Like this, no accidents would happen.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Some said the witch had been jealous of the attention Commander Nahlen had received from the king, that she was in love and wanted the king's gaze all for herself. Others argued that she had read the future in the bones of snakes and seen Nahlen betray their lands. Whatever the case, her ruthless and insidious ploys had caused her name to be spoken all over the camp grounds.

As the word of her monstrous actions spread, her name would only appear in hushed voices. Soon after, it had disappeared outright. They all feared that one of the witch's many secret informants would listen in. They all feared that one day, they might not wake up, their life taken under mysterious circumstances. Alca wasn't really sure if any of the rumors were true, and maybe they were exaggerated, but he wasn't willing to risk his new-found future on mere chance.

Rather than think about grand issues a lowly man shouldn't consider, he picked up his weapon and a piece of cloth, and cleaned it for the hundredth time since their arrival. Invaded by the cold, his fingers trembled as they touched the headstock of this hand cannon. 'Flintlock,' Nahlen had called this weapon. Apparently it was one of the newer models. Since their company was part of the third batch of soldiers to be trained out of Saniya, they had received it in favor of the old ones.

Throughout training, their instructors had told them about the amazing power of this great new weapon, and how lucky they were to wield it. Alca hadn't really understood much, he just knew that a flame would catapult a piece of lead into his enemy's heart if he handled it right. In his training, the lieutenant had already felt the massive power of his weapon, but it still didn't fill him with confidence. Every time he saw it, he was reminded of the enemies they would have to face, with nothing but this piece of wood and steel in hand.

Despite all the training, he was just a mortal, no matter how much he would love to believe otherwise. The nobles, be they lords or warriors, were cultivators, beyond people like him. Could a mortal really kill a noble? Could they aspire to rise up beyond their stead, break with old traditions? Wouldn't heaven and earth deign to punish them? As his thoughts wandered through his fears, his hands began to tremble from more than just the cold.

This flintlock was his only repose. At least the musket was an invention from a noble. There were rumors that King Corcopaca himself had invented the design, though others claimed that it had been the foreign doctor who spent all his days in Saniya's new 'laboratory'. To Alca, it was laughable gossip, no more. How could a doctor invent a weapon? Thus, the only possible inventor was the king himself, first son of the emperor and the highest of high nobility. Yes, this was a noble weapon, unlike the axes of his enemies, which were made from only cold steel, forged by common blacksmiths. A commoner with a noble's weapon against a noble with a commoner's weapon. At the thought, the tremble in his fingers eased. Maybe their chances weren't as poor as he had first thought.

While he, and his entire team, had sunk into bleak thought, they hadn't realized a man rush up to them.

"Lieutenant! There's trouble! Someone's coming towards the village!" When he heard the panicked voice, Alca was shocked awake. He knew that always slovenly man who ran towards them. He was one of his company and had been stationed on the walls as a lookout.

Soon, his subordinate stood in the entrance of their little hut, out of breath and out of courage. "Lieutenant! Please come quick!"

"What's going on?" he frowned and asked in a firm voice, but his chest tightened from fear. Had the enemy reached them? Why was there no word from the front line? What happened to the witch's scouts? Had they been wiped out?

"Several troops from the neighboring villages have come over together! They're flying the banners too!"

With a worried frown, Alca's fingers tightened around his flintlock once again.

"Looks like something big is about to happen. Let's get ready to greet our fellow warriors."

__________________________

Not long after, Alca stood in front of another eight Lieutenants, together with their teams. In their front was their ensign, the man responsible for their entire hundred man platoon.

"Lieutenant Alca, I will present your orders." According to regulations, such a message would have to be given in writing, but Alca could write just as well as most everyone else in the army, which meant he was proud that he could spell his own name. Of course there were many educated people in Saniya, but few of them were desperate or ambitious enough to join the army, no matter how much they might be tempted by the chance to become warriors. Rather than step up themselves to defend their wealth, those clever masters had decided to let the poor and downtrodden take the plunge. Once some of the lowest had proven themselves in battle, they would see whether or not the king would keep the promises he had made to his army and then follow suit.

"Understood!" Alca replied in a snappy voice.

"An advanced raiding party of the enemy is on its way to your village. Their goal is to take back the land they have lost and to probe our strength. We have been tasked to reunite our teams into a platoon and hold them here, at least until we receive further notice."

Even though he should have known better, Alca's commander still held out a piece of fine paper, sealed with expensive wax. Maybe this letter alone was worth more than the clothes Alca would wear at home, but this ensign had handed it to him without any fuss. This man should be one of the rare examples of a craftsman who had decided to fight with them. To Alca, his ensign's casual attitude was an inspiration, a real educated man with real backbone. Though of course, none of this mattered. As the implication of his orders sank in, there was only one thought left in Alca's head.

"Troop leader, what will happen now?" he asked, and hid his fearful tremble within the cold around them.

"Now," his commander answered in a grim voice, "We will have to fight for our lives. For us, the war has begun."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

182 Demons and Mortals

Though the weather was still as cold as the sky was clear, Alca couldn't feel a thing. When he had learned about the approaching enemy, he had been afraid of his first combat, but now he felt only numbness. His original idea of battle had been a siege, like what others had told him about their experiences at Qarasi Castle.

All he would have to do in a siege was to fire at the mighty enemy warriors from behind the safety of a wall. Even at that prospect, he had been sufficiently scared. Yet their commander had insisted that they meet the enemy on the field in an open confrontation. What nonsense was this?

While his fellow captains and their subordinates looked as miserable as Alca did, they still followed their orders without question. Obedience and order had been the core of their training regimen after all. Even the loudmouth Killari kept quiet and took position to his friend's left. Although Alca didn't look, it was easy to tell from the crunch of snow under Killari's boots and the clang of his halberd against his cheap metal armor. While the soldiers held their weapons tight, their mindless commander ignored the worries of his men and positioned himself before them.

"Fellow men of the south! Soon, we'll see our enemies before us, and they'll kneel when they see our great power! But don't worry, as a man of grit I will make sure we'll take every one of them them to the underworld! Soon, we'll all taste the glory of great heroes, and become immortals in the stories!" The ensign paused as he looked at the unimpressed faces of his men, before he continued in a more somber tone.

"I understand your worries. Maybe you ask why we aren't hiding up there behind the walls. And you are right: Our victory would be even simpler from behind a fortification. But I want to ask: What hero has ever shirked away from a challenge? What hero would just duck down and cower in fear? In the end, the safety of the walls mean nothing. We'll still manage a perfect victory, believe me! Let's all become great heroes together!"

Now Alca understood his commander at last. The ensign wasn't a rare craftsman with backbone. No, the swellhead just dreamed of bedtime stories and lacked any sense at all. Maybe his parents had sent him to the army to get rid of his nonsense at home. While Alca did his best to hide the spreading scowl on his face, his commander just continued without reservations.

"What, you're still afraid? We even built a barricade! Watch those dull northerners break upon my strategic genius!" As he spoke, he pointed behind him, at the rickety collection of loose wood.

Really, Alca couldn't imagine what sort of effect the few heaped tables and chairs from the village would have. Warriors were elites with super-human strength. In battle, they would wear armor more heavy than an ordinary man could even lift. Any warrior worth his salt would just charge right through those measly 'barricades', wouldn't he? Although he wanted to criticize the ensign, Alca wouldn't dare disagree with a superior. Instead, he just held his gun ever tighter, his best protection from the fear.

Even if he spoke up, now it was too late. On the horizon, he could already see the approaching enemies. Fancy, expensive armor of shiny black and red lacquer covered their entire bodies, while their faces where hidden behind stony masks, depictions of the powerful divines who protected their respective houses. Even over all the white around them, the evil glint of their axes shone in the midday sun, as beautiful and dangerous as the sea. Although Alca wasn't the greatest at counting, he guessed there were at least fifty, more than half of what they had. Two commoners for every warrior, wasn't this bad?

"There he is, the enemy! Load the muskets! The halberdiers get into position behind the barricades and kneel down until I give the signal! Let's show them our full force, the true strength of the south!"

Even now, the overzealous craftsman's voice sounded full of spirit. Without a word of reply, his terrified troops loaded the paper cartridges into their guns. As his trembling fingers brought the weapon to his mouth to break the seal of the cartridge, a flustered Alca could only imagine how his fellow soldiers felt. If they hadn't repeated the motion countless times in training, the captain wasn't sure he would have remembered all the steps. While the southern soldiers still fumbled with their preparations, their foes were long battle ready. A war cry shook Alca's bones and almost made him lose the ramrod in his hand. Attracted by the noise, he looked up for a second and he saw the avalanche of steel and flesh already on its way towards them.

Like demons, these heroic warriors shouted out their thirst for blood as each step brought them closer to the enemy. Terrified, Alca looked back down to continue, but realized that he had taken out the ramrod too soon. He hadn't even inserted the cartridge yet.

*You've done this in training. You know this. Fill the gunpowder into the breech. Cartridge down the muzzle. Ramrod after. Put the ramrod back under the barrel. Cock the hammer.*

His weapon loaded at last, Alca looked back up and was shocked. Just a moment ago, the warriors had been far away, almost on the horizon. How had they gotten this close already, and in ankle-deep snow to boot? Again, the soldier's forced calm was replaced by a fresh onset of panic.

"Aim!" their ensign shouted. Like a machine Alca's body followed the orders, his mind paralyzed from fear. Only a few moments and they would be in firing range.

"Hold until my command!" he heard. Alca swallowed heavily in response. What sort of force drove these warriors into this kind of head-on charge, he wondered. Weren't they afraid of death? In his head, Alca imagined the rest of the battle, how their lead would bounce off the expensive armors like balls of paper, before the demons would break into their formation and slaughter them all.

How had he ever thought they could fight against this kind of force? The men before them were born and bred for battle, and they had given their whole lives in pursuit of honor. Why would the divines favor him, a mere commoner child who lacked piety and never even thought about honor before he joined the army? Out in the cold wind, the bit of courage he had amassed in the hut earlier had long disappeared.

Still, Alca put the musket's stock up to his shoulder and waited for his ensign's command. His body obeyed somewhat, but his weapon swayed back and forth. Cold sweat formed all over his body and his finger on the trigger began to itch.

*Not yet,* he thought with a clarity that surprised himself. *A bit closer.*

But then, a shot broke through the shouts of demons. When Alca looked at his weapon in shock, he realized that it hadn't been him. Somewhere to his left, another soldier had lost his calm first. The shot landed a few meters in front of the enemy path and caused only a small plume of snow to form at their feet. Unperturbed, the seasoned warriors stormed on. Yet the commoners had already panicked before the shot even landed. In a chain reaction, all others fired their weapons as well. Somewhere in the confusion, even Alca had pressed his trigger.

Even then, the foes never left his sight. Through the smoke, he saw one of them get swept of his feet by a hit and land back-first in the snow. When they saw their comrade fall, the other warriors slowed for a moment, but soon they charged with even more ferocity.

"Only fire on my command! Reload, reload!" their almost useless commander shrieked over the powerful chorus of enemy roars. At least the words brought some of the soldiers back to their senses. 'On my command' were words they had heard countless times in training; they reminded them of their duty. If they couldn't even follow basic commands, they would all die here. Now back to their full tremble, Alca's fingers somehow tried to fumble the second cartridge from the pouch on his belt into his gun.

*Calm down. One of them fell. They're mortals too.*

With a second to think and breathe, Alca felt like he had hit on some fundamental truth. Once more calmed, he finally managed to reload without a problem. When he looked back up, the enemy was already more than halfway through their firing distance. How were they this fast in all that armor? His chest tightened as he peered to the side, where he saw Killari squat behind the barricade with his halberd in hand. One salvo wouldn't be enough to break the charge. Could they really stop it?

"Fire!" Now even the ensign's voice trembled. Yet just in time, their second volley showed real results. Accompanied by the concentrated thunder of their flintlocks, an entire row of seasoned warriors stopped mid-step as if they had run into an invisible wall. Without a chance to catch themselves, their still bodies dropped into the snow. As the men behind stumbled over their dead or injured comrades, their charge lost half its force. Still, the veteran fighters would close the distance long before the next salvo could go off. Their fallen companions had only made them more angry. There were still too many demons left, and Alca knew his fate if the cultivators ever broke into their ranks.

"Reload, reload! Halberds brace for impact!"

Again his body moved in response to the anxious voice, this time like the wind. Somehow, he had become calmer the closer the demons had come. He had seen them fall, and he could see their eyes hidden behind their masks. They were no demons, but mere mortal men. Why would the divines favor one mortal over another? As he was still busy with the ramrod, he could hear a heavy thud and clang from his front, followed by anxious groans and shouts.

*First finish your work,* he thought without looking up.

*Pull out the ramrod. Put the ramrod back under the barrel. Cock the hammer.*

When he raised his head, the enemy was already upon them. Yet like a miracle, they were stuck on the laughable barriers their crazy ensign had erected. With several dozen halberds stuck out from behind the wooden barricade and heavy men braced behind them in the snow, the tables didn't look that ridiculous any more. They had held against the first charge, but they wouldn't last for long. Already Killari's feet drew deep lines into the snow as he was pushed back.

Alca stuck his flintlock through the gap in between two halberdiers. A single shot by itself wouldn't make a difference, so he waited for his command. He hoped his fellow muskets would speed up their movements and reload before the warriors could break through the formation of soldiers.

Their halberds couldn't break the heavy armor, and so the enemy force pushed back their line step by step. Only a few meters and they could gain enough room to surmount the barricade, their front line and then their entire force. Even with the snow, even with the tables, the halberds and the tight formation, a few cultivators could still overpower them like it was nothing. But they weren't without their own advantages.

"Fire!" the voice sounded again to relieve Alca's nerves. His muzzle trained on the foremost warrior, the soldier pressed the trigger. This time smoke from the powder took his sight for a second, but at such close range, he could hear the screams of pain, as well as the muffled thuds of bodies in the snow. Their third salvo had really hurt the mortal warriors, and soon he could feel their halberds push forward again to regain a clean defensive line. When the smoke lifted, his enemies were already on the run, back towards the horizon they had come from.

"Reload! Fire at will! Don't let any get away!" Now strength had returned to their commander's voice, together with a frantic eagerness that felt ugly to Alca. Still, at this point he didn't need any orders to know what to do. By the time he had reloaded, the enemy was once more halfway out of his range. A single shot was all he could offer them on their journey back; it whistled past them as if it wanted to guide their way. None of his fellow musketmen managed another shot in time, though some fired anyways, long after the warriors had escaped their grasp.

When Alca looked at the ground before the barricade, he saw the former demons writhe in the snow, now colored red from their wounds. Back in Saniya, armed conflict had been something bad, restricted to only the highest and lowest strata of society. Between the duels of great lords and the gang wars in the dark alleys, Alca had always tried to avoid any conflict. Yet now, he understood its allure. Never had he been so elated to see blood. Like a hero from the old tales, he stretched out his hand and presented his weapon to the heavens.

"Victory!"

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

All his companions followed his shout. It was the first open-field conflict of the war, and it had ended in a complete victory for the south. Almost a third of King Pacha's small raiding force had been wiped out, with no losses on the side of the southern kingdom. Over he following days, similar battles would be repeated all across the eastern front.

It was the first bloody baptism for the newest batch of King Corco's commoner troops, and it would break the spell the invincible warriors had held over them. After they had survived their first charge, Corco's army of peons had turned into soldiers.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

183 Surprise Visitor

While the war had long begun on the front lines, everything was still peaceful in Corco's tent at the center of their main camp. The feet of his scouts were much faster than the steps of war though, so he could still listen in on some stories from the front.

"King Corco, our officers report that King Pachacutec's probing raids have been repelled, one and all. There have been only very sporadic losses on our side, a mere four soldiers in total. Two of them died from a fall when they panicked atop the walls. According to our scouts in the east, King Pachacutec no longer sends raid parties out of his advanced camp. Instead, he seems to prepare for another move. His aim may be a direct confrontation, so we expect his main army to cross into occupied territory soon."

"How many?" Corco asked, one hand on his chin. In response, his servant only offered a dull look.

"Please excuse this servant's ignorance, King Corco, but-"

"How many warriors from the enemy side did we kill?" As he asked the question, his brows wrinkled.

"Oh, great King! Our brave men wiped out a total of one hundred and sixteen enemy warriors in battle. Surely, now the opposing lords will regret that they have ever opposed King Corco! Our warriors have brought great glory to our kingdom."

Once he understood the question, the servant's spine straightened as he told of their troops' exploits with a sparkle in his eyes. However, the recipient of the good news had no interest in celebrations. Still in a terrible mood, Corco waved in the vague direction of the tent's entrance.

"You can go now. Tell the soldiers to get ready for deployment, and send runners to recall all platoons from the front line. We'll be going on the move soon."

"Yes, King Corco."

The man failed to notice Corco's poor facial expression, or he chose to ignore it. Either way, he replied in a chipper manner and turned on his heels to leave the king's command tent. A few moments after the servant had left, Tamaya came out from behind a curtain in the tent's back.

"Please excuse the servant's undue enthusiasm," Tama said. She had really started to cut down on the useless formalities in recent weeks. "As an ordinary warrior, he fails to see the bigger picture, and in his joy over our victory, he forgot himself."

Of course Tama would be aware of Corco's general distaste for battle in general, and this war in particular. After all, the eldest son of the emperor considered everyone in Medala one of his subjects. Even more, the humanist Corco considered all of his countrymen compatriots, be they friend or foe. Worse yet, many of the warriors on Pacha's side still carried the name Pluritac, and would have been part of Emperor Corco's household without the machinations of the Ancestral Hall. Despite the servant's inconsiderate actions, he just waved away Tama's apology to offer one of his own.

"Rather than that, I feel sorry you have to hide like this." As he spoke, Corco offered Tama the empty seat next to his command chair with a troubled face.

After the rumors had spread, even some of the ghosts, Tama's own subordinates, had begun to show restraint and downright fear whenever they saw her. As a result, Corco had decided to keep her out of the public eye until they had calmed down a bit. Still, quasi-exiling one of his own didn't feel great.

"It is no trouble at all," Tama sat down with a smile. "I prefer to operate out of sight."

"So you just won't meet people anymore?"

"If I ever wish to show off a new dress, I can still do so in a more private setting." The girl's sheepish smile had loaded her innocent words with meaning.

"...sure. Let's leave it at that," Corco replied in a defensive tone. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Tama's calm voice cut through the awkward atmosphere.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"It appears as if you decided to face your peacock uncle in an open confrontation, is that correct? While I believe a quick and decisive victory is a good method to limit the casualties on both sides, I am unsure whether we need to take the risk."

"We're not gonna fight them," Corco replied with a grin, "not if we can avoid it."

"Although I might be speaking out of line, but in war, casualties are unavoidable. We cannot save everyone in this conflict. Even if you consider the warriors under Pacha your subjects, they have sworn no oath of loyalty and do not share your notions. They have come to fight and kill."

Why did all of Corco's supporters tell him to toughen up? Was his image really so weak?

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm not avoiding conflict because I think we can somehow talk our way out of this. I just don't wanna give the other forces a chance to profit from our movements. You know, Amautu, Divitius and Herak will jump at the chance if they see us weakened. Rather than fight a mutual losing battle, we'll have Pacha chase us around the snow for a bit until we can gain time for your brother to lead the craftsmen south. Then we'll retreat back across the Narrow Sea."

"Thank you, King Corco." True relief filled Tama's voice as she lowered her head. Though he understood that the girl had been worried for Fadelio's safety, Corco was caught off guard by her unusual honesty.

"Well, he's my friend too... and I really need another reliable attendant now that you're persona non grata."

Before Corco could scold her again for ruining her own public image, Tama decided to switch topics.

"King Corco, even if we wish to avoid a clash with Pacha's troops, would we even be able to prevent a confrontation? After all, most of the central army is comprised of warriors, while most of our men are nothing more than commoners. Even if we ignore the fact that Pacha's men know the local terrain better, mortals should not be able to outrun cultivators, should they?"

"In that regard, I can offer two simple answers." Corco raised two fingers, another cocky grin on his face. "Sleighs and snow-shoes are the first answer. It's self-explanatory, really. Just look outside. In this sort of weather, we will save a ton of energy with the help of our tools and have an almost insurmountable advantage in terms of endurance."

"Yet our enemies are powerful cultivators," Tama insisted. But of course, Corco had his answer ready.

"And those cultivators are the second reason they won't catch us. Don't look at the endurance of our runners as the standard for all warriors. They're a special case, with a special cultivation technique that makes their metabolism that efficient. In fact, most warriors have far worse endurance than well-trained commoners, trading in efficiency for power. They're more sprinters, really, like dwarves."

"Huh?" A clueless Tama tilted her head to the side. Maybe some day he would find some time to write out those books.

"Ah, it's nothing," Corco returned to the topic at hand. "Anyways, all that power us cultivators can generate in short bursts is a real drain on our efficiency. As a result of our massive power consumption, we tend to run on empty rather quickly. That's why warriors tend to fight short, intense battles, or repeatedly charge enemies and then disengage to catch their breaths. It's also why we eat so much."

Corco picked up a raisin from a bowl before him and threw it into his mouth.

"And that's where Pacha's biggest problem lies: Since his army has thousands of warriors, all that extra food has to be stored somewhere. Though you say Pacha's army is made up of mostly warriors, he has a giant baggage train of commoners with him to carry all the food for the fancy banquets and such. In total, all those levied craftsmen, merchants, magicians, priests, entertainers, whores, thieves and whatever else follows in an army's wake will double his actual army in size, at least. In a longer pursuit, Pacha can't exactly leave them behind and have his voracious hordes starve to death. No, if he wants to catch us, he will have to do it slowly, sidestep, cut off the ring... even then, we'll do our best to slip away and gain time enough for our trapped people to free themselves."

Grateful, Tama nodded, though Corco felt like he could see a hint of bitterness play around her mouth.

"It is a sound strategy, King Corco. Should we get ready to set off as well?" With graceful movements, Tama got off from her seat and walked towards the entrance.

"Yeah, let's-"

Before Corco could finish, another servant rushed into the tent, this one so flustered he even forgot a proper greeting.

"King Corco, an enemy commander has come to meet you."

"What's going on?" Already half out of his seat, Corco sat down again. At first the scout leered at Tama, but Corco's "talk" reminded him on his duties.

"An enemy vessel from the Narrow Sea approached our shoreline not long ago. Before it reached within cannon range, the ship let down a smaller boat to transport a single man ashore. He says his name is Arnao d'Ichilia, captain of the blockade fleet within the Narrow Sea, and he has come to negotiate."

"...in that case, bring him here as soon as possible. Make sure he doesn't see the camp. We don't want my uncle to know about our plans or our numbers."

"As you wish, King Corco." Calmed by the king's own indifferent attitude, the servant bowed and left.

"What could that captain want?" Tama asked, still halfway to the entrance. All this time, the servant had just ignored her.

"Guess we'll find out soon. Sorry, but you'll have to hide again."

Like a ghost, the girl moved towards Corco, towards the curtains behind his seat.

"Not to worry, King Corco. My position by your side will not change, even if I become invisible."

"...good job?" a confused Corco said.

"Further, there is something I need to clarify: Our rescue mission to save Fadelio was, in truth, a success. He decided to stay, in part to guarantee the safety of the craftsmen under his care, and in part to force you into action."

Corco was surprised by her honesty. After he had worked through his spy master's rare openness, he showed a forced smile.

"I thought it was something like that. He's done that sort of stuff before, you know? Though in this case, his actions are pointless. I wouldn't have left the craftsmen to die, and he should know that pretty well. They're too important for the future of Saniya. At least you told me the truth right now, when no one's around. Otherwise, I would have to punish him again for doing his job. I'll talk with him when he comes back and make sure he's more discreet in the future. Seems like he can't even trust his own family."

"Thank you, King Corco." Tama ignored Corco's sigh and disappeared into the background again.

__________________________

When Captain Arnao took the heavy jute bag off his head, he first scanned his surroundings. Despite his quick wit, the southern king had to disappoint him. His warriors had already drawn the tent's entrance closed, so there was nothing to see.

*No intel for you,* Corco thought as he waited for his opposite to speak. Even though he had shown the bravery to initiate negotiations in from a weak position, the man to his opposite was a nervous wreck. His eyes flitted all over the place and his face was covered with a thin film of grime. For a captain, he seemed hardly capable of anything, but looks could be deceiving. As for looks, he also appeared quite thin for a high-status warrior. This should be the reason for their negotiations.

"King Corcopaca, allow me to introduce myself: My name is Arnao d'Ichilia, High Captain of the United Fleet of House Ichilia. Although we have met as foes on the field of battle, this captain has always felt nothing but admiration for King Corcopaca's heroic deeds. Yes indeed, he is a great man of great stature, and thus this captain believes we will be able to speak well, for the good of all of Medala."

"...so what do you want?" Corco really despised this sort of boot licking. Since the man was used to the Ichilia court in Huaylas, the king decided to humor his bad habits for now. If Spuria was any indication, that place must have been full of snakes. However, Corco's patience remained unrewarded, as the nervous Arnao droned on.

"King Corcopaca. Ever since the start of the war, both our sides have caused great damage to each other. Our great and noble sailors blockaded your passage across the Narrow Sea, and prevented the transport of King Corcopaca's further troops. In retaliation, King cut off our supplies and prevented our own landing efforts. However, this captain believes that there is no need for such mutual destruction among men of Medala. Both sides possess great honor and the spirit of warriors-"

"Get to the fucking point."

Throughout the speech, Corco's body had sunk deeper and deeper into his chair, like a spring put under pressure. While he still hadn't exploded, he wasn't far off. In response to the rude interruption, Arnao remembered his position and swallowed heavily, before he got on his knees and spoke with tears in his eyes. Whether his actions were fake or real was hard to distinguish.

"This captain hoped that King Corcopaca could find it in his heart to lift the blockade of the shoreline and allow our ships to take on foodstuffs. Aboard our fleet, not even the rats are safe from the hungry stomachs of my men. The first few have already starved to death. Although the lonely islands are right besides us, we are forbidden from entry, on Lord Ichilia's order... thus, please King Corco, show mercy and allow my men to eat."

Despite the impassioned speech, Corco remained unimpressed, If intrigued. Maybe this was a chance to lift the blockade. At least it was worth a shot.

"Okay, so what's your offer?" he asked in anticipation. A good few seconds passed while the kneeling captain only returned a dull stare.

"Please excuse me, King Corcopaca, I fail to understand." Finally, Arnao's system rebooted, but he still came up empty.

"Your offer," the king repeated. "You know, since I'm giving you food to make sure you don't starve to death, what will you do for me in return?"

"That's..." the man's blank stare told Corco all he needed to know. This idiot had come here without any plan, hadn't he? With a groan, the king hid the pain on his face behind his hand.

"How about you stop the blockade then?" Corco suggested.

"That is impossible, King Corcopaca. Where would we go? All paths out of the sea are blocked off by your men."

"Okay, then how about you just let my ships through? The Narrow Sea is pretty wide after all, despite its name. Just make some room and let us pass. Pretend you didn't see us or something."

The captain's grimy, haggard and tear-stained face somehow became even more miserable.

"But... King Corcopaca, Lord Ichilia has ordered this captain to stand his ground at all cost. Insubordination is impossible."

In response to the sheer lunacy before him, Corco balled his fists until they began to shake while he bit down on his lips, hard. It was all in a desperate struggle to not kill the idiot right on the spot.

"Please stop talking or my head is gonna explode," he forced through his teeth while his fists pressed against his temples. "Are you saying you came here, and your great plan was to... ask for help? How the fuck did you even come up with this shit?"

"King Corcopaca, please help us."

"You're fucking kidding me!" At last the king exploded and jumped out of his chair. "Did you actually come to beg your enemy to go easy on you cause you're not doing well? And you're not even offering anything in return? What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck up! You don't need a spine, but a commander should at least have a brain, right? Guards! Get that idiot out of here. Don't let him come back until he understands what a negotiation is."

After the idiot captain's head disappeared within another sack, he was led out of the tent by Corco's guards. The king watched in consternation, until he broke out into uproarious laughter. If all of Pacha's commanders proved this competent, maybe the war would be easier than he thought.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

184 Strategic Maneuvers

In the distance, a long trek snaked its way through the snow. The silver triquetra drawn on the blue flags at the forefront of the formation had once denoted the power of Medala's Emperor. Now however, it only served as a false king's claim to legitimacy. Despite King Pacha's dubious status, a great army followed the banners, made up of those in search of benefits, and those blinded by loyalty. Behind them walked a near endless mass of commoners, ready to pick up the scraps the army left behind in their destructive path. Once the scout put down his spy glass, the people turned into tiny black dots in a sea of blinding white.

*Better not look for too long.*

As he raised his view to the sky, he remembered the king's tale of a strange illness: snow blindness. In this weather, it was a real threat, especially to someone with eyesight as strong as his. At least the snow was a much bigger disadvantage to their enemies than it was to him. After all, the new, white fur coats of the ghost warriors would make them almost impossible to spot even by the enemy's eagle eyed. Once he factored in the incredible effect of his spy glass, avoiding detection and slipping through the enemy lines had been easy.

After he had finished his work, the scout put his amber glasses back over his eyes, before he turned and rushed down the mountain. The ski on his feet made the way back a breeze. Even if he had been spotted, not just anyone could follow his speed. In fact, as one of those chosen by the king, he was confident in his strength even if someone were to follow.

Once the first snow had fallen, the king had called all of his scouts together and presented them with these tools. Since he had proven himself as one of the most talented in the use of the ski, he had been given the honor to scout out the front lines. He was even bestowed a rare spy glass, a secret device only close allies of the king were aware of.

The scout created some distance between himself and the enemy, before he stopped between a dense group of trees. With his fingered gloves, he retrieved a crude map, compass, coal and paper from his backpack, to put down the position and heading of the enemy force. All of this would be vital information to the king, so he took great care as he wrote the new letters his lord had created. With his duty completed and his tools stowed away, he picked up the wooden sticks at his feet and pushed himself forward through the snow. Soon, he would have made his way back to the king's army.

In this way, King Corco's men always remained a step ahead of their enemies. Time and again King Pacha would march his troops straight to their position, only to be spotted right away. Once the information was relayed through a series of ghosts, King Corco could simply adjust his course and increase the distance once more. With their movement slowed in the snow and their scouts inefficient, every course correction of Corco's would force Pacha's army to halt and reassess the situation. Otherwise, they might march in the wrong direction for days, or even fall into an ambush and get wiped out. In their game of cat and mouse, the combatants had already wasted several days. No members of Pacha's army had so much as seen Corco's main army, let alone come close enough to force an engagement. If things continued like this, Pacha would never catch them, and the war would end without a fight.

__________________________

The cold determination on King Pacha's face mimicked the weather around him. Again, he stared out into the distance. As a king, the warriors should see his glory project upon them, so at the start of their campaign he had decided to reside in an open palanquin. It was a smart method to show off his prowess and inspire his men at all times. Whenever they felt tired or weak, they could all gaze upon their king's mighty form and be inspired. However, Pacha's genius strategy had come with some drawbacks.

First, he was unable to disregard his dire reality even for a second. Without any curtains, the endless snow all around them was in full view, the cursed weather that made their journey so much more arduous. At the same time, the horizon taunted him with promise of Corco's army, never to be fulfilled. Even worse, without curtains he had no insulation from the insipid and worthless advice of the so-called lords beneath him.

"King Pachacutec, this slow march will lead nowhere. We need to strike the southern troops soon, and in decisive fashion!" Like so many times over the last few days, the same annoying voice once again complained for no good reason. As always, it had nothing but complaints to offer.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"And how does Lord Rupilo suggest this king execute said strike? This king is certain that all present would love to hear lord's valued opinion" Pacha's voice was devoid of emotion, but his words were harsh. Who didn't know that Rupilo wasn't talented in strategy? All Pacha wanted was to humiliate the oaf a bit, and make sure he wouldn't make any more unqualified comments lest he be embarrassed again. Yet for some reason, Rupilo insisted on being heard.

"We could split up our men..." Although his voice was tiny and wavered from insecurity, the lord's words were no less outrageous than the king's. At the suicidal idea, Pacha turned and gave Rupilo a vicious stare.

"Is that what you call advice? This king will not have his troops split into pieces, to be conquered one at a time. Everyone should be aware now that this battle will not be an easy one. Our raiding parties have reported back the size and strength of the enemy forces. With their new equipment and novel tactics, they are in no way inferior to the warriors of the central army. How will we fight them if we split our men and further weaken ourselves? Since they hold an advantage with their modern weaponry, we will need the advantage in men. Is that understood?"

"However... if this endless march continues, our defeat is all but assured. The plans of the southerners are no secret to us. Now that the central troops have left the Narrows, their servants who are stuck in Lord Nasica's home will attempt to make their way back south."

Even though Rupilo shrank back in his own palanquin, he still wouldn't keep his mouth shut. Pacha frowned as he understood that the lord was more afraid of Corco's retaliation than he was of the wrath of his king. If he couldn't win the lords over with fear, Pacha would have to use his intellect.

"Then tell me, Lord Rupilo: How will they make their way through all the bandits in their path?" Pacha showed the confident grin of a victor. If he wanted to, he could be just as clever and sneaky as Corco. "This king is no fool, so the southerners will not be allowed to act however they please. Since the trapped troops cannot break through the encirclement around Rumas by themselves, what are they to do? With the troops they have left in Qarasi Castle, they could try and break through our own encampment in the Narrows to create a connection between the two territories. However, how many men can they have left in Qarasi, considering the size of their army here?"

To convince himself of his words, Pacha nodded emphatically.

"Whatever is left of the castle's manpower will never be enough to break through the Narrows. We have wasted so much time and men trying to force our way past their walls, let us turn the tables and have the bastards try their luck at our defenses instead."

The more he thought about it, the more Pacha was convinced of his decisions. Still, others were not as confident in their warriors as the king was. Least of all, Rupilo.

"But... what if there are further surprises and the enemy has come up with even more tricks?"

Though Rupilo was vague in his words, his meaning was obvious. Ever since the start of the war, nothing had gone to plan, always foiled by some clever tricks. With his sneaky brother around to spin secret ploys, could Pacha really guarantee the safety of his camp? Still, he had to show strength in front of his men, and inspire them like a good leader should.

"Nonsense!" he shouted. "So long as we stand firm and avoid rash action, no tricks will be able to overcome our forces. Rather than expect a trick if we fail to act, maybe we should expect one if we do. Could the southerners not hope for your very plan, Lord Rupilo? Once our forces are divided, the southern dogs can rush us and take down our split troops one by one. How can a lord fail to see that this was their plan all along? Do remember how strong their troops were in our first probe. No, it would be foolish to risk a fight without advantageous numbers."

Of course, he wouldn't mention the second reason for his conservative actions. Pacha really didn't want to face his brother's tricks without some sort of advantage. If he gave up his numerical strength, he was afraid he could give Corco another chance to steal his assured victory. Just as the king thought he had silenced all doubters, another fly buzzed in.

"According to reports we have received, the southern king's men carry their own supplies, with no mass of worthless commoners behind them. As a result, their troops are much more nimble than ours, but they are also much more dependent on procurement. Where else but from within our lands would they take all the food to feed their thousands of mouths throughout the winter? If we cannot corner them soon, they will succeed in their malicious ploys, and our harvest will be swallowed up. If we fail to take them, they will become ever more bold. They might even forego the villages and attack the poorly defended towns further inland instead."

This time, Lord Fulcinius had spoken up to defend his precious harvest. Really, what had Pacha done to deserve these hyenas as subjects? If only these lords would think about the good of the kingdom for a moment, they might offer some practical advice, rather than only complaints. With their combined talents, they would have found a way out of their dilemma by now, Pacha was sure.

"Then may lord tell this king how to strike down the enemy with only a third of our troops? Go on, Lord Fulcinius, do enlighten this dim king."

Forced to make an actual contribution, Fulcinius shied back and lowered his head. Pacha snorted in derision. All these fake lords could do was complain about his decisions. None of them would give any concrete advice. After all, if they said anything of substance, they could be held accountable for their faults.

Just as Pacha was about to explode again, a third voice spoke up. This one was colder than ice, and made the king's stomach cramp in anxiety.

"We will not need to wipe them out." Although his accent was still choppy, Duke Herak had already mastered quite a bit of the Medalan language. "All our army third has to do is hold them in place until the rest of our army arrives. And you are looking down on my men too much."

This time, Pacha didn't dare speak out against the vague complaint. After all, Herak was not only intimidating, he also had a strong force behind him, and had handed the king the same modern weapons which had worked to such wondrous effect for Corco.

"What does Lord Herak mean?"

Behind the mask, the cold eyes narrowed.

"That little merchant king doesn't have any more muskets than we do. It just so happened that his modern troops were up against those antiquated armies of yours."

Although there were some groans and complaints under the breath of the surrounding lords, a single look from Herak reestablished peace.

*Cowards,* Pacha thought, silent himself.

"What great warriors you lot are," Herak continued. "If some here had not insisted on their right to attack first, we could have sent my men and would have secured those border villages without any losses. No, you had to be first, just so you could secure the biggest part of the spoils, and it's ruined our early advantage. In truth, our troops are much stronger than you believe, king. Not only are our numbers greater and our weapons in no way inferior than Corco's, we also possess much more experience. The men of Borna and Cahlia have waged war with the help of these new weapons for years. Most of that kingling's people are fresh recruits, barely fit for combat. In a direct engagement, their morale will crumble, and we will smash them to bits."

Somehow, the beast's confidence managed to infect Pacha. Indeed, they had only lost the early engagements because they had attacked fortified positions of muskets with only warriors of the cowardly lords. In fact, wasn't this a chance? If Corco underestimated their troops as a result of his early victories, he would be more eager to attack a small part of their army and fall into their trap. After a few seconds of deliberation, Pacha nodded slowly.

"In that case, we shall split our troops into three battalions. Each one shall include a sufficient number of muskets. This king will lead the first, and Lord Herak will lead the second, partially comprised of his own troops."

Satisfied with the answer, Herak nodded his head, his eyes still cold as ice. Since Pacha had dared to hand command power to an outsider, there was some discontent among the nobles around them. However, not one of the cowards dared to speak out, lest they be bestowed the honor of command instead.

"Who among my lords shall be granted the honor of fighting alongside us?" With great satisfaction, the king raised his head and let his eyes drift across the row of cowards who dare call themselves lords. One by one, they lowered their heads. Some trembled to show weakness, to make sure they would be overlooked. In the end, Pacha's eyes landed on the worst among them, the one who managed to look the weakest and most pathetic. With a grin, he sealed the man's fate.

"Lord Rupilo, since splitting the troops was your idea, you will have the honor to lead a third of my men. Do not disappoint this king's trust."

It seemed like he wanted to refuse at first, but the surrounding lords were eager to praise his bravery and the king's wise decision. In the end, he had no choice but to accept his duty with slumped shoulders.

"Very well, King Pachacutec. This Lord... will do his best."

This time, Rupilo didn't need to fake the tremble in his hands.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

185 Breaking Ou

Back when Fadelio had arrived in Rumas, he had been left with less than two dozen warriors to protect several hundred commoners. Now, these very same commoners were surrounded by an army around five hundred strong. With he rows upon rows of fellow warriors clad in the colors of Saniya, they could now break their encirclement and make their way south without any trouble.

"It's grand sight. But is this really fine?" Fadelio asked. "I mean, if anything we have done here is revealed, you will be in big trouble."

Brought out of his revelry, Fadelio looked at his host with a worried look. On the outside, nothing about Lord Nasica of Rumas had changed since their first meeting. Just like back then, the middle-aged lord dressed in simple robes and kept his head shorn. Only his blue eyes had shed their constant waver, which had been replaced by firmness. This was a man reaffirmed in his beliefs. Fadelio was glad he was on their side.

"If nothing is done and King Corco loses the war, my trouble will be no less," Nasica answered. "Last year, when I listened to King Corco's music on top of Mount Urquna, I made the decision to welcome change. Not only would I change myself, but also the fate that lay upon our empire so heavily. Now I see that this change is unavoidable, but it should at least be as chosen by ourselves, not by some outside entity. For that purpose, I will do whatever is necessary. Not to mention..."

A hint of a smile on his lips, the lord looked at all the uniformed warriors before him. The first among them carried before them the new banner of the south. Even though most were Nasica's own men, they looked just like Corco's soldiers. "I fail to see any of my troops here, so I wonder what crimes I could have committed in the eyes of King Pacha."

"Yeah, all of those are ours, aren't they?" Fadelio grinned in response. "I wonder how they all managed to sneak inside your borders without your knowledge, Lord Nasica?"

"Indeed. We must have been too lenient with the control of our visitors. But what can we do? We are a site of pilgrimage after all. If we are too strict with the people we let in, we might even get into trouble with the priesthood. After all, who dare stand in the way of a divine pilgrimage?"

Now that he was convinced of Nasica's safety, Fadelio breathed a sigh of relief. Since Pacha was dependent on support from other lords, he couldn't just break the common rules of conduct. That was the reason Pacha had disguised his men as robbers to stop them. So long as the king of the center couldn't prove any traitorous behavior on Nasica's side, he couldn't attack with his army. Even the robbers should lose their value now. After all, who would believe that a bunch of bandits managed to stop hundreds of organized warriors? This was no longer an excuse Pacha could hide behind.

"Either way, the south will not forget this gift. Once the war is over, the king will be sure to repay Lord Nasica handsomely."

"There is no need to repay anything." The lord waved his hands in rejection, still that small smile on his face. "After all, I was saved by Corco when I was at my lowest. It is only good and proper I return the favor."

"Even so..." In the face of Nasica's humility, Fadelio struggled with his words. There really was nothing good he could offer to the lord, but he didn't want to leave just like this. In the end, he came up with an idea, even though it was a bit sly. "How about Lord Nasica join the southern kingdom then?"

"That seems more like a benefit for the south, not me. Rather, Rumas would be exposed to King Pacha's wrath, and surrounded by enemies."

When Nasica called Fadelio out on his poisoned chalice, he insisted on his honesty.

"At the same time, the south would also be committed to defend Rumas from any attacks. Although the commitment would be a great burden to the southern kingdom, King Corco would surely be willing to carry it."

"No doubt. However, the distances are too large. Rumas lies too close to the capital, and there is too much land between here and Qarasi Castle. If King Pacha decides to be vengeful, your men will never be able to defend this land before it gets razed. No, for now, the best choice for Rumas is to stay low and wait out the wars."

Although he was unwilling to give up, Fadelio had to relent with a frown.

"Well, at least we can offer a discount on Saniya's newest products. Like this, Lord Nasica should be able to gain great wealth."

Considering the rich Cinnabar resources of Rumas as well as their pilgrimage industry, this offer was nothing more than an empty gesture, but Fadelio wouldn't feel right if he didn't offer at least something in return for Nasica's help.

"Ahaha, then I thank Official Fadelio for his consideration." The lord accepted with the same indifferent joy he had shown in his previous rejection.

*He truly seems incorruptible. A better priest than most priests.*

"In that case, we will be on our way." Fadelio said.

"May the stars shine upon you, brave warrior."

"Yeah, upon us all." Fadelio nodded and shook Nasica's outstretched hand, before he turned to his men. They still had a long way to go.

__________________________

Ever since the arrival of the great lords of the south, the great hall in Qarasi Castle had been filled with endless chatter. Although no food or drink had been presented by the host yet, the lords had taken the liberty to bring their own, and so they sat among themselves and organized a spontaneous banquet. Meanwhile, the man who had called them here stood at the end of the room and was being ignored.

"Damn noble bastards. Same shit, different continent," Dedrick groaned. Ever since he had lost his knighthood, he was very much used to this kind of dismissal from others. This time however, the survival of their very king was at stake. How could these lords prove this inconsiderate and selfish in a time of need for their own kingdom? Dedrick tried hard to come up with some words that would calm them down and force them to listen to his plan, but so far every attempt had been ignored. He really wasn't made for this 'talking' crap in the first place. So he decided to go with a more familiar method.

"Bring me my gun," he said to the wolf next to him.

"Commander, you don't want to shoot them, do you? Wouldn't that be trouble?"

Of course the man was terrified, especially after what had happened to Nahlen and Mason. Dedrick's thoughts on their fate would have surprised the mercenary. The commander was just glad he hadn't been forced to take them out himself. As someone who was familiar with the inner workings of the wolf mercenaries, he had long seen the troublesome tendencies shown by those two.

However, he hadn't thought they would be stupid enough to try their hands at an outright rebellion. If Tamaya's spies were to be believed, they had made a deal with Herak in place to make the long journey back home. Although he didn't like the vicious method in which the men had been trapped and then taken out before they could reach him, it was not something Dedrick was eager to tell anyone, even if it was justified. They really couldn't afford any more suspicion if they wanted to finish their job and return home with honor and wealth. For the same reason, he didn't intend to kill any of the annoying nobles who refused to listen to his words.

"Don't worry, I'm just gonna scare them a bit to get their attention. If a stray ball hits one of them in the knee though, it can't be considered my fault. They're running all over the place, so it's hard to miss them. I'm sure the boss will understand."

Although his subordinate's worried look went back and forth between him and the lords in question, he still fulfilled his commands without further complaints. Now that Mason and Nahlen were out of the way, there really wasn't anyone left to stand up to Dedrick's authority within the wolves, so the men would be much better behaved. However, before the wolf could return with the gun, a fight broke out among the backbenches of the hall.

By the time Dedrick approached the ruckus, a huddle had already formed around two of the great, noble lords, and the battle was over. On the ground lay a middle-aged man with an expensive, blue robe and a snide look. This was Lord Vareo, the same man whose city of Port Ulta Mason had attacked with surprise cannon fire, his first act of insubordination. Right now, the lord wiped the blood from his nose off his face, as his vicious eyes stared up at his opponent.

Posed before his downed foe like a great master was another lord Dedrick was familiar with. Lord Huaman Queru was one of Corco's first allies in the south, and someone his boss valued quite a bit. Since their guy was winning, there was no reason for Dedrick to get involved for now.

"Do you dare hit me?" Vareo barked. "Worst of all on the king's grounds, when we are here as his guests? Do you want to risk a war against the combined forces of Port Ulta and Saniya with this disrespect to both houses?"

"Who's disrespectful, you cowardly bastard?" Even though both were Medalan nobles, the rough Huaman didn't mince his words one bit. Dedrick liked him right away. "You've been invited into Qarasi Castle for a strategic meeting, but all of you clamor on as if you're in a whorehouse. Horny bastards, if you don't have the stomach for war, the door's over there." He pointed at the exit from the hall. Although many of the surrounding lords seemed unhappy, they didn't dare speak up against the bear-like southern lord.

"Since Port Ulta hasn't had a proper meal in weeks, there should be no problem in indulging a bit here, should there?"

This might have been the main reason for the conflict: Before Corco had established the trade route to the Verdant Isles, they had been low on grain. As a result, they were forced to prioritize where they would send their surplus grain. For various reasons, Port Ulta had gotten the short end of the straw. No wonder Vareo was angry.

"When he visited Qarasi after his return, King Corco already told us that he'll bring enough food for everyone within weeks or days. You already get cheaper food from another lord who has no obligation to feed your people. What more do you want?"

Before another brawl could break out, Dedrick decided to step between the combatants.

"Thanks for your help, Lord Huaman. Still, I don't think beating each other up is gonna do any good. Better leave that anger for the northerners, huh?" he winked.

"What do you know, foreigner?" Still happy to confront them, Vareo bit back as he stood up and dusted off his untidy robes.

"And how is that a problem?" Huaman asked with narrowed eyes. Dedrick really had no idea what he was doing in between them.

"We will not be subservient to some commoner bastard from nowhere. Who would leave their warriors under his control?" Vareo screamed back.

"Yeah!"

"That's right!"

"Where would our honor be?"

Several lords hid in the crowd to shout out their cowardly thoughts.

"Fine, then don't go," Huaman replied. "Whoever wants to follow along with the king's plan, under command of the king's general Dedrick di Pluritac, may do so, but he must show the respect such an office deserves. Whoever wants to leave is free to go. Especially you, Vareo. I hear that some foreign ships have docked in Port Ulta these days. Maybe those foreigners are more to your liking than this one."

Anger in his heart, Dedrick looked around the unwelcoming faces in the hall. Weren't these bastards just provoking a conflict? He really had no mind for this crap. Just in time, his subordinate came back and handed him his musket.

"Yeah, well said. How about this: I'm gonna take my time and slowly load this gun of mine. If you have a problem with me, or my command, or my men, or the boss's plan, you can fuck right off and leave the room until I'm done loading. If anyone still has a problem after that, they'll get a bullet to the head."

"Outrageous!"

"How dare a simple warrior..."

"...a foreigner no less."

"I hear a lot of talking and not enough walking," Dedrick grinned, as he continued to load his gun. At the same time, several of his mercenaries closed in from all corners of the room, the same weapons as his in their hands. In several demonstrations in their camps, and back in Arguna, the lords had already seen the power of their muskets. Even though they looked like awkward clubs, the nobles wouldn't underestimate the power aimed at them. After they shared a few uncomfortable looks, three of the lords turned and left. Yes, this was a much better method than Corco's long-winded speeches, Dedrick thought.

"King Corco will hear of this!" Halfway to the door, Vareo turned around and tried one final time to intimidate the mercenary.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure he will." Dedrick's head was still lowered, focused on his gun.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

After a few seconds in which the silence was only interrupted by the sound of the ramrod in the musket's barrel, Vareo snorted and followed his fellow lords.

"That could have ended better," Huaman said to Dedrick, who gave his musket back to a relieved subordinate.

"It's not a problem. We don't need those honorable nobles to make our way north. They're just greedy for all the loot on our way, so it's best they're not around. I mean, that loot's all mine, so I can't have any other greedy bastards there to steal my coin."

The southern lord seemed to not share Dedrick's sense of humor.

"With so few men, it was already hard to take the encampment in the north. Now we're short three lords, so our attack would only be more difficult."

"How did you find out about our attack plan?" The mercenary narrowed his eyes.

"It was a guess, and an easy one." Confronted with Dedrick's suspicion, Huaman showed no fear. "Since you called the meeting, it's obvious you planned a big military operation, and there are not many places to attack from Qarasi Castle."

For now, Dedrick decided to remember the lord's name. This one seemed quite good when it came to warfare.

"Either way, we're not gonna need those turncoats. With me at the helm, we've got more than enough people as is, and we also have a trump card or two."

With his trademark roguish grin, Dedrick looked over to two groups of lords and servants who had remained isolated all day. Now, both were closing in on him from different directions.

"It seems like the south-west centered on Saniya is a lot less united than I thought, huh?" Uchu Villca said. As the second oldest son of the late Lord Villca, he was one of the main contenders for the lands south of Qarasi, and also the shameless bandit chief who had crashed Corco's banquet in the fall.

"Yeah, well, you're not doing too hot either," Dedrick replied. After months of siege, Uchu and his brother Pahuac were still stuck outside of Cashan, where there eldest brother had managed to hide out with the support of a few loyalists.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't just follow hose deserters out the door after that insult." His head lowered, the bandit looked like he was only waiting for Dedrick to provoke a fight.

However, Dedrick chose to go for diplomacy for once since he had already given away his musket. At least Uchu's problem was related to his military position, something the mercenary understood well.

"Although you can't crack the walls, your troops have secured the area around Cashan pretty well, so most of your army is just sitting around with nothing to do anyways. You're running out of supplies though, now that the north has closed off the borders."

"That's not-"

"Don't bother with the bullshit, I don't like to play games. We all got spies, and ours have found out that you're running low. Here's the deal: You help us take over the northern encampment, and we'll help you take Cashan in turn. We can get started as soon as Corco's back."

"War with the northerners? Sounds like fun." From the side, Pahuac Villca barged into the conversation and shook Dedrick's hand, as if he had received the offer. In truth, there wasn't much difference between the two as far as Dedrick was concerned.

"Which one?" a quiet voice asked from being Uchu.

"Huh?"

"Which one of the Villca sons will be given the city once it is retaken?" Half hidden in the shadow, Guachimine Villca spoke up. This was someone Dedrick had been warned about by Tamaya. It seemed like he was the brains behind Uchu's mindless brawn. However, for this time, the mercenary captain wouldn't have to deal with the rat.

"Isn't that your own problem?" Dedrick grinned. "As always, the great and wise king Corco remains neutral on internal family matters."

"Who cares about later!?" Pahuac shouted and cracked his knuckles. "I've always wanted to invade up north, repay those northerners for all their visits over the years. Let's just have some fun with this."

"...fine. I'm sure we will be able to find a solution later." Unwilling to fall behind and be left without an ally, Uchu had to agree as well.

Still, the bandit and the rat eyed their enemy with great care. Pahuac, on the other hand, really didn't care and swung his arms around as if to warm up for a fight. Although Dedrick had assembled his attack force for now, he could already feel a headache coming on.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

186 Secret Deal

Even after Brym had received some basic guarantees from Amautu, he had still remained confined within his shop's backyard for a good while longer. Only once Herak had left for the south had the young merchant finally been granted some room to operate again. With his new-found freedom, he could have left from Porcero with Atau's fleet and reached the relative safety of the south right away.

However, for now he still had much work left to do in the north. Instead of running away, Brym had waited until the fleet had reconnected their trade route from Porcero all the way to Saniya and then put together his own small expedition to cross the Sallqata Mountains once more.

In this manner he returned to Arguna, this time to establish a new shop in the wealthiest city of Medala, and to throw his diplomatic weight around. Over the previous year, his ability to talk with lords like Saliena and Betucio had already drawn attention from the nobles in the center, and now it was time to show off his talents on the biggest stage. To facilitate his goals, he had already set up several meeting with important figures of the empire before he had even reached the city. When he finally arrived, he had expected to be welcomed by someone of great weight since he was the representative of King Corco. His host still astonished him.

"Official Brym, what a pleasant surprise for us to meet in such a far-off place. I arrived in the city mere days prior. When I heard Official would come here as well, I took it as a convenient chance to meet up again."

"Somehow, I doubt it is a surprise for either of us, Governor Betucio."

Right at the entrance to the inner city, Betucio's own palanquin had waited for Brym, the governor inside. Among the many he had arranged meetings with, King Amautu was the most important. The governor must have been tasked by King Amautu to meet him here and make sure no one would stop the foreign merchant from entering the inner city. Of course, another reason must have been to throw him off balance and catch him unprepared right before their negotiations.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Indeed it is not," the governor answered, now in the relative privacy of the palanquin. "Official Brym, there are many issues to be discussed. As such, I would prefer if you could immediately follow along to my family's Arguna mansion to hold our talks right away. I understand that you must be tired from your journey, but as soon as word of your arrival spreads, the other lords will visit you one after another. You might not be aware, but the merchant with the mysterious, novel wares from Porcero is already a celebrity within the city. I am sure you would not want to enter talks with the lowliest lords before having established some basic agreement with King Amautu first."

Although Betucio tried his best to unsettle him, Brym held on to his business smile without any trouble. By now he was sure that Amautu's people had planned all this out, to have the talks while he was tired and hungry from the journey. A good merchant was always prepared for a deal though, so Brym's trek had rested only an hour away from the city so he could eat and prepare for any meeting. Still, he at least wanted to put on some clean clothes. First impressions were the most important in business deals, after all.

"Lady Inti is the king's current representative in the city. I believe it proper to at least catch up with her before I speak with anyone."

"There is no need to wait any longer. Lady Inti is already present at my manor."

While Brym tried his hardest to prevent a frown, he looked at the sparse scenery of the inner city beyond the window to give himself some time to think. He was glad that Betucio was so eager to strike a deal, but the circumstances began to feel more and more strange. Why was Betucio so insistent? Why would Inti play along with the governor's games? However, there was precious little Brym could do about it at this point. He was already stuck in Betucio's palanquin. While his own people were behind them, he wasn't sure his handful of mercenaries would be enough to deal with a governor's personal guard.

Even worse, with his own insufficient cultivation, the merchant would be up against an elite Medalan warrior. Although he didn't know just how powerful Betucio was, he wasn't willing to risk their relationship and potentially his life on a hunch. Over the past months, Brym had done his best to establish amiable relations between himself and Amautu's faction, always with Betucio as an intermediary. Why would the lord suddenly lure him into a ambush? Even more, Brym was convinced that Betucio was not this kind of person, and Brym considered himself a decent judge of character. In the end, he decided to trust his instincts. That didn't mean he wouldn't continue to probe and get more information out of Betucio.

"You know, even if you wanted to show your hospitality, there really wasn't a reason for someone of Governor Betucio's status to welcome me personally. Won't it look bad if the Governor of the North plays weak in front of a simple warrior, a foreigner no less?"

Although he observed the lord with great scrutiny as he poked holes into his story, Brym couldn't find any hints of him looking flustered or guilty.

"In Arguna, the rules are a bit more complicated than that." Betucio showed a strained smile instead. "Being a foreigner or a warrior wouldn't mean that you have lower status right away. After all, Official Brym is the official under the employ of a king, whose status would be half a step above my own. As for being foreigners... at this point, every one of the kings has surrounded himself with men from outside of Medala. Anyone who complains can only be called a hypocrite. Further, there are matters that should be discussed between us before we reach the mansion, which is why I had to come in person. To avoid any incidents, some issues should not be heard by everyone."

"Oh, and what would those issues be?" Brym showed a soft smile in response to the governor's narrowed eyes, even though he felt more and more tense. Unlike Betucio however, the merchant never looked strained.

"Official Brym should have heard about the string of bandit attacks in the north over the past months, correct?"

"Ah, yes." Brym stroked his non-existent beard. "There were rumors to that extent. I hear that on the northern trade route from Porcero to Arguna, there have been problems within some forest. It seems like trade caravans have disappeared, though some locals said it was the wrath of some local demon or other. Less fantastical but more credible, it appears as if on the western side of the mountains, barbarians from beyond the Sallqata Mountains have made their way past King Amautu's defenses and have caused quite some trouble as well."

Rather than join in on Brym's gossip, Betucio only stared harder.

"...Official Brym would not know anything about these incidents, would he?"

"Why would I know anything about these things? I'm just some lowly official. I haven't even had the chance to leave Porcero since the arrival of the Arcavian ships. In truth, I didn't hear about this bandit issue for the full season I was locked up in my shop. Only when we put together our own expedition were we informed by some of the locals that we might run into trouble on our trip."

"And Official seems to be fine, despite taking a route through a forest infested with bandits and demons. It appears the trade caravan of the southern kingdom was not attacked by these bandit groups at all."

"Yes, we did indeed get lucky." Brym nodded his head with a satisfied look on his face.

"Official Brym." With an annoyed sigh, Betucio righted his posture. "If we wish to have a proper cooperation, we should be open with one another. There is no reason to play games and sour our relationship."

"I don't plan to sour anything." Despite his sharper tone, Brym still retained his smile. "Aren't half of those bandit attacks caused by northern barbarians? You aren't suggesting that I or any of my men made a trip west, into King Amautu's territory, and then north through the mountains, are you? And when we made our way through all of King Amautu's lands, undetected, we looked for allies among people whose language we don't even understand, and coordinated attacks against trade caravans with them?"

"Nothing of the sort. Even so, the attacks around Ancash Forest seem far too well organized and the bandits there are far too well-equipped. They surely have a strong backer. Do not forget that Eastern Medala is also King Amautu's territory, so you should tread with caution."

As they were talking, the palanquin had entered Lord Betucio's private estate, the goal of their journey.

"Well, after the incidents during the succession war, it is fact that our wolf mercenaries have become well-known for their ferocity. I'm sure these bandits were put off by the reputation of the white devil mercenaries, which is why we made it through there despite my relatively weak entourage."

Brym pretended to think for a while, before he presented a solution that would let him continue to deny his involvement with the Latrus bandits.

"How about this: We can loan out a few of King Corco's men for your own caravans. This way, these bandits will see the white devils, so you can safely travel through that forest yourselves. But I don't have many mercenaries at my disposal, and I'm responsible for their security as well. Be aware that I'm risking my position here."

"Of course, Official Brym. I will be in your debt."

Still embroiled in their conversation, they entered the halls of the Betucio Mansion. As they walked, they took a short break, consisting of Brym flattering the lord on his sense for interior design, mostly. Despite his calm demeanor, the merchant had no idea what would happen next. Somewhere in here, he would meet Inti, and possibly further representatives from Amautu's side, for proper negotiations. The bandit issue was just a little aperitif, barely of importance in the grand scheme of things, but it was still one Brym considered won. However, the merchant still didn't know the reason behind Betucio's secrecy, or why they had talked about the bandits on the way here already. As a last resort, he decided to be a bit more direct than usual.

"I wonder why we couldn't meet elsewhere? Since we represent the two kings, shouldn't we be meeting in one of their residences, or right in the palace?" Although Brym was his big brother's disciple and didn't really care for the formal rules of Medala, he was still aware that most of the lords were very adamant about them. It was a bad idea to not play by them and risk offending some of Corco's allies. Although he lightly insinuated his poor treatment to his host in an attempt for more information, Betucio only looked uncomfortable and dodged the question.

"Please excuse me, Official Brym. However, the circumstances have forced this lord's hand, so matters had to be handled with care to avoid detection. Please be understanding. This way please."

Although Brym still wasn't any smarter than he had been, he didn't question the lord further. He had always been good at reading people, and while Betucio had gotten more and more uncomfortable at his repeated probes, the governor didn't seem to have malicious intentions. Still, the chance for some sort of sneak attack could never be disregarded. Maybe someone had forced Betucio into a scheme, or maybe the governor was unaware of someone else's machinations. While he thought, Brym calmly stuck his hands into his wide, Medala-style sleeves, his right gripped around his wheel-lock pistol.

"Whatever the circumstances are, Lord Betucio, I am sure you have your reasons. I don't mind the secrecy. At least we won't have to deal with all those palace officials here."

Ready to jump to the side and take the governor as hostage in his own home, Brym followed into a spacious salon, warmed by a grand fireplace. However, the other two guests stunned him so much he almost lost grip on his weapon. Of course, Inti was there to represent Corco's side, but the second guest of Betucio's wasn't someone Brym had ever expected to meet outside of the palace.

"The officials are not here because this king risks his reputation by meeting with a common warrior, and a barbarian no less. After all, this king's support stems from the wise scholars of the west and they would not want me associated with the likes of you."

There, on the best seat in the house and across from Inti, sat Amautu Secundu Pluritac, King of the North. Brym's eyes widened for a second as he understood the implication of Amautu's words. Although he complained about their difference in status, this was a rare chance to talk away from prying eyes, about much, much more than he had initially planned.

"Official Brymstock di Pluritac greets the King of the North."

After he corrected his rare slip-up in expression, Brym's eyes turned stern and he lowered his head in a perfect bow.

"Very well, you may raise your head," the king said. "Please enter, there are many matters to discuss."

__________________________

From atop the walls of his city, Lord Makipura watched as the last vestiges of King Pacha's army disappeared over the western hills.

Now that the king's men had left his territory, Makipura could breathe easy at last. Although being host to a king should have been an honor, King Pacha's great warriors had proven to be nothing more than locusts, acting like invaders rather than guests. After they had emptied all of his granaries and displaced all of his farmhands, at last they had moved on to do their dirty deeds further west. At least the southern king's landing had still been in time, so some of Makipura's foundation remained. He would suffer during the next harvest and he had to eat into his treasury to get his warriors through the winter, but the worst was over. Still, despite his distaste for Pacha's horde, the lord didn't mind a northern win, so long as it was quick.

In truth, he didn't care much about the conflict between the two kings. As a lord on the border between Sachay and Sinchay, he had plenty of contact with both southerners and northerners and didn't mind the shallow differences in culture. On the other hand, he was also perpetually stuck on the front line of any battle. Since the northerners were usually the aggressors and couldn't get past Qarasi Castle, they would naturally spend most of their time in his lands, to Makipura's detriment. If this infernal war didn't end soon, it would spell even more disaster for his lands.

With these thoughts in mind, Makipura retreated back into his mansion to begin the rebuilding process of his deserted lands, and to organize the defense against a potential counter attack from Qarasi Castle. Although Pacha had left some troops behind to take care of their encampment, he had pushed most of the work onto Makipura and his men. At least they had been excused from any more frontline fighting. At this point, the lord was mentally drained and didn't even care that Pacha's poor impression of him would only net him a small portion of any loot at the end of the war. He really was just happy if those mighty kings had stopped forcing their wills on him.

However, his wishes had been too bold, it seemed. As soon as he entered his private study, he found a suspicious letter atop his desk. It was sealed with the Triquetra, the imperial sigil of House Pluritac. To Makipura, the thing exuded a malevolent aura like no piece of paper before it. How foolish Makipura had been. Of course the arrogant young king Pacha wouldn't leave without a final jab at his honor. The lord took a deep breath and opened the letter, expecting to be exposed to more of King Pachacutec's tirades and threats.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

187 Course Correction

Whenever Pacha advanced, Corco retreated. Whenever Pacha retreated, Corco advanced. Back and forth, left and right, he had been playing this game with his uncle for weeks now. With their disadvantages in scouting and speed, Pacha's massive army was just too clunky to catch them, while the central king's warriors kept looting their own countryside to feed themselves. After all this time, it almost seemed as if Corco could keep Pacha at bay with his tricks for an eternity. Yet they didn't need nearly that much. Half an eternity would be plenty.

If everything had gone just remotely to plan, Fadelio should be on his way out of Nasica's territory this very moment. It would be another week or so until him and the craftsmen would safely make it back across the southern border. Maybe ten days, to give them even more leeway. Everything was going to plan.

If only the constant running wasn't such a colossal pain. As he realized that him and his warrior guards had gotten ahead of the pack again, Corco breathed out a heavy puff of steam and looked down to his snow shoes, then back to the long trek of people that followed his every step.

"Considering the circumstances, the men are remarkably calm." Even through Tamaya's out-of-breath voice, Corco could still hear her worry.

"Why wouldn't they be?" he asked as he turned to his current attendant. Even though she was wrapped head to tow in furs and banners of cloth, she somehow still managed to appear elegant. "So long as we don't screw up along the way, our position is pretty much unassailable."

"However, we have done nothing but run from the enemy so far. I would expect our avoidance to be considered dishonorable by the men, and thus bad for morale."

"Those are the old rules. They only apply to a classic Medalan army. Don't forget, we don't have that many proper warriors here. Of course the brave warrior armies would want an honorable fight and make up stories about me upsetting the heavens with my cowardice or whatever, but half the people behind us are just commoners or foreign mercenaries. So long as they get paid and feel safe, they really don't care about honor or tradition."

"Yet the other half are still warriors under the southern lords, all of whom could make a lot of trouble for us." Tama still sounded unconvinced.

"Sure they could, but only if they were to unite. About half or so... well, more like sixty percent of our army are classic warriors. But you forget that they're not unified, and likely won't be throughout the war. Unlike the people from Saniya, they are from all over the place, private troops collected from almost twenty different lords. Not one of my vassals brought more than a thousand warriors with them. Divided as they are, they're not really much of a threat to the stability of our army. Plus, their lords aren't here either after that half our fleet was blocked out in the Narrow Sea. These leaderless soldiers might not like my 'cowardice', but so long as we don't overdo it, no ordinary warrior would dare criticize a king. They're far too used to our social order for that and will put up with a lot before they show any negative reaction. How much time we have before this constant march really starts to hurt our morale, that's a question for you to answer."

In response to Corco's wink and playful tone, his spymaster lowered her head.

"I will do my best. As soon as there is any discontent within the troops, the king's men will be the first to know."

"I don't expect us to be on the run for much longer anyways. It can't be long now."

As he spoke his cryptic words, Corco looked over to the rest of his troops, where one of their scouts forced his way through the loose marching formation.

"King Corco! Big movements in the east," he shouted before he had even reached the king's front. Only once he stood still and saw Corco's raised eyebrow did the young man realize that he was not in a secure location, and spoke about issues that were better discussed in private. With shrunk shoulders, he looked around Corco's guard made up of ghost warriors and wolf mercenaries.

"You may speak freely," the king said magnanimously. Although the runner had made a mistake, Corco could tell from Tama's look that he would suffer more than enough for his mistake later on. Since he was still unaware of his miserable fate, he nodded in relief and took a deep breath.

"King Corco, the enemy has begun to move. King Pacha has split his troops into three equal parts and moves to encircle us."

"Perfect!"

"Perfect?"

When everyone started to look a bit worried, Corco clapped his hands and grinned at the opportunity.

"Tell the people in front of the formation to rest up for a bit until everyone has caught up," he said as he turned to Tama. "Once we're organized, we'll march straight east. Don't look at me like that. You've never heard of 'divide and conquer'? This is our chance to go on the offensive and clean up a third of my uncle's army."

As soon as the order was given, the king's army moved like a singe body. They had turned east without a question, even though it would lead them closer towards their enemies. Although some of his officers, mostly the mercenaries, voiced their concerns, Corco wasn't overly worried about a trap. If Pacha had attempted to lay one, it was far too obvious.

The army around his uncle would fake a split-up and pull back together as soon as Corco's troops had changed course towards them. That way, they would encircle them, which would prevent them from running away again and would also give them a crucial tactical advantage before the first engagement.

While the idea was nice in theory, it wouldn't be possible to implement for Pacha's troops. For one, they had inferior mobility with their giant army and their lack of proper winter equipment. Moreover, the enemy also had an inferior intelligence network compared to Corco's ghost warriors and their new spyglasses and ski. With their lack of information, their reaction time would be far too slow, so a complex move like a fake split-up would be discovered soon, and would only waste their time in the end.

A few hours after the change in course, more and more information about the enemy troops entered Corco's ear. It appeared as if Pacha had taken over the central of the three new armies, while Herak had bee put in charge of the northern troops. This was a surprise to Corco, and not a welcome one. Why would his xenophobic brother put scary looking foreign man in charge of anything, let alone his army?

To Corco, this was close to a worst case. He had already seen Herak's prowess as a commander back in Arcavia. Even though the king had won that day atop Etra's walls, it had only been due to his superior position, technology and information. Even then, it had been a close enough fight that he didn't want to face the northern troops led by Herak, troops which should contain the largest portion of musketeers out of all three armies. Moreover, they were also far too close to Huaylas. If at any point Lord Ichilia decided to change his mind support his nephew Pacha, Corco might truly end up surrounded.

The center of their three-pronged attack was no an option either. Not only would the central army have the highest risk of the enemy outflanking them and collapsing on them from both sides, Pacha himself had also shown a lot more restraint in recent months. After all the setbacks, the peacock king seemed to have learned from his previous idiocy and was no longer one to underestimate. Even more, he had also taken over the core lands of House Pluritac when he became the King of the Center. With them, he had gained the loyalty of many high-quality commanders, as well as the family's elite warriors. Even with antiquated weapons and tactics, those elite cultivators still weren't a match Corco was willing face with his inexperienced commoners if he could avoid it.

For a moment, he wondered if they would have to pull back again and play for time, but then he heard about the third, southern army that marched along the coastline. To his surprise, the third commander was another old acquaintance of his, and not one known for his prowess in battle. Unless the banner over the command tent was a fake, it seemed like Lord Rupilo had somehow ended up in charge of a third of Pacha's invasion force. Corco still remembered how the lord had tried to weasel out of their alliance over the bleeding body of his uncle Sonco. While Sonco himself had saved the moment back then with his dying breath, the king had never forgiven the lord for his cowardice.

A coward in charge of a disjointed army, wasn't this the perfect storm for failure? Right away, Corco commanded his troops to correct their course further south. They would smash apart Lord Rupilo's men before Pacha could even react and end this war before Pacha could do any more damage to his own people.

The next morning, the the southern king's army rested atop a hill, the Narrow Sea that separated them from their homes right before their eyes. The previous evening, Corco had picked a position with cliffs to his south for their rest, to make any possible involvement from the starving fleet of the ridiculous Captain Arnao impossible. Up above, a handful of clouds interrupted the beaming blue sky, a sign that today might not be quite as ice-cold as yesterday.

"Good weather for a war, I think," he mumbled. Although his warriors were southerners, most were also commoners. When it came to cold-resistance, the cultivators were much better off, and operating the muskets required a level of dexterity far beyond a traditional combat style, so the cold was doubly bad. The clouds were a welcome sight, as was the warm western wind which would blow into their backs to support their charge. It felt as if everything had come together to guarantee his victory. And as if on cue, the troops from the central kingdom could already be seen taking position on a hill across from them.

"King Corco, according to estimates from our scouts, they number roughly fifteen thousand. Around two thirds are heavily armored warriors, split about half and half between more mobile shock troops and slower core infantry. There are also a good number of skirmishers positioned in front of the formation. At the back, we have seen a small contingent of muskets, detached from the main force."

As he was introduced to their enemies by Tama, Corco looked through his spyglass to observe them for himself. Fifteen thousand was a pretty large number, and not all of them could fit on the small hill to their east. As a result, the formation which had already filled up the elevation was spilling down into the plains to the hill's north. In fact, their entire right flank was positioned on lower ground. Although the enemy troops weren't that far away, with their disorganized movements, it would take them at least an hour until they would be in any state to lead a charge, so Corco wasn't worried for now.

"Tell our men to get in formation as well. For now, we're putting the pike and shot infantry into the center, and the warriors from the various lords on the flanks. Double them up on our left. If they're dumb enough to try and flank us from the sea, it won't end well for them no matter how many people they have."

"Understood."

While Corco's orders were relayed, the king observed the enemy in more detail. Just as Tama had said, he could see their sturdy core infantry move into position in the center. The core infantry wore heavy metal armor covered in black lacquer, carried large shields painted with their family banners and long weapons, either polearms or spears. They had cultivated to possess incredible strength and endurance, which they would use to withstand enemy charges and hold the front lines. Meanwhile, the skirmishers took position in front of the line, and slightly to the sides.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

These Medalan skirmisher troops largely consisted of highly mobile archers with a cultivating background, grouped in smaller units than the infantry. Usually, they were meant to operate semi-independently of the main formation. Their harassment was meant to force the enemy into action, and they would also try to flank and attack key points all throughout the battle. Without any cavalry present in Medala, they were the fastest troops on the field and almost unassailable.

Behind them stood the second portion of skirmishers, the only troops within Rupilo's army which were no cultivators. An army of commoners, armed with nets and bolas, stood ready to welcome the inevitable warrior charge from their foes. Their only job was to trade their lives as they tried to tie up as many warriors as possible to break their charge and tire them out. The counter charge of the core infantry could then make easy work of the disjointed enemy formation.

Finally, on both wings, Corco could see the shock troops of the central army, the last portion of a traditional Medalan army. These were once more warriors with heavy armor. Though their shields and armor pieces were not quite as long or thick as those of the core infantry, the luxurious decorations on their fancy helmets and shining lamellar armor proved their elevated status. They were armed with short axes, rather than spears. While the core infantry was the meat of the army, these guys were the true elite, proper warriors ready to take down any foe. On the battlefield, they operated like heavy cavalry would have otherwise. They would initiate the first charge, or be used to flank and encircle the enemy in a kind of hammer-and-anvil-style tactic.

Almost invisible behind all the enemy troops, Corco could finally spot a thousand or so muskets. They looked as out of place as they were within Medala, almost beyond the crest of the hill, positioned like long-ranged archers. It was obvious that Rupilo had no idea where to stick these new troops and had opted to go with the tried and proven instead.

As Corco observed them, his grin grew wider and wider. Before him, he found the most conventional of conventional Medalan formations. This was about as standard as an army here could get. Larger numbers, more cultivators, none of this would matter. In the end, Corco was convinced he would win without trouble.

"King Corco, the enemy commander is coming towards us."

When he readjusted his telescope, he saw that both formations had been set, and the enemy commander's banner had begun to move down the hill, into the basin between both armies. As was tradition in Medala, both leaders would meet on the field of battle right before combat began. This was supposed to be a final attempt at reconciliation, though usually it was just a chance to show off or intimidate the enemy. Corco intended to do just that.

"Get the ten best scouts among the ghost warriors to serve as my guard. We're meeting an old ally."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

188 Sowing Disconten

Between the armies of the south and center, two different banners closed in on one another. On one side was Corco's new silver triquetra on purple, and on the other was the diving eagle of House Rupilo. Although both were carried by Medalan warriors around a noble leader, the men below the banners were very different. While Corco had not brought the best combatants among his men, his scouts were especially mobile and still more than capable of defending him in case of an ambush. They were dressed to serve their function. Practical armor that would let them move quickly to intercept attacks on their king were accompanied by medium-sized, oval shields and short axes, ideal for defensive combat in a small group. In their front walked their king, himself in lamellar armor with a simple, full bronze helmet on his head.

On the other hand, Rupilo's side looked like a group of lords on a leisurely stroll through the countryside. One of the five warrior attendants Lord Rupilo had brought was his standard bearer, while the other four carried Rupilo's open palanquin. With the elaborate designs on their armors of gold and lacquer black and their fancy, ornamental axes, none of the warriors looked like they were armed for combat. All of were more akin to honor guards. Commander Rupilo himself sat atop his mobile throne like a fat, lazy cat. His armor was made of gold and cloth, with small silver mirrors weaved into it, while his helmet was an open-faced monstrosity in the form of an eagle.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

*Like a halloween costume. A tacky one,* Corco thought.

The reason Rupilo only had five warriors with him instead of the more usual ten was because he hadn't come alone. Apart from Rupilo, three more lords had gone to meet Corco, each with their own servants by their side. Although they looked slightly more competent since they had come on their own two feet, their armors still screamed ostentation. Either way, it appeared as if these lords were not content with Rupilo's command of their troops or they wouldn't have come along. Maybe there was a chance to get more out of this meeting than Corco had first thought.

As tensions rose, the two groups came to a halt several steps apart from one another. For a while no one talked, as the warriors of Lord Rupilo slowly let down their lord, who remained seated despite the standing king in his front.

"You couldn't have gone any more tacky, could you? Maybe should have put some red flame decals on the sides of that thing to make it go faster," Corco mused.

"Rather than red, the purple of the king's new banner is not blatant enough, is it? Does he wish to spread his name as the merchant king with this display of wealth?"

Despite his dismissive words and his attempt at a superior attitude, Rupilo's voice was just a touch higher than Corco remembered and he was curled up in his seat as if to shy away from the king's presence.

"If you can make your banners purple you're free to do so as well," Corco laughed. "But I guess you're happy with your eagle, huh? Wearing that thing all proud on your head, what a strange man you are."

As soon as Corco made reference to the Rupilo family banner, the lord's face turned red in anger and shame. Back during the last civil war, the lord's father had shown the sort of opportunism which seemed to be ingrained in their family's blood. As a result, then Emperor Titu, in accordance with the nobles' assembly, had forced the old Lord Rupilo to abdicate and had also turned their banner upside down. While a diving falcon still looked imposing to outsiders, for the Yaku the beast was turned away from the heavens and towards the underworld, an inauspicious sign that the house was headed in the wrong direction. At least Rupilo still had some shame left in his body, so he squirmed in his seat at the mention of his family's inglorious history and remained silent. Still, there were other lords to pick up their commander's slack.

"King Corcopaca. It has been a long time since we have met." Another lord said as he stepped forward. Since he wasn't the commander, he was out of tune, but Corco still welcomed him with a smile.

"Yes, we have not met ever since the nobles' assembly, Lord Fulcinius. I am glad to see you well."

One by one, Corco exchanged pleasantries with the three lords who had come with Rupilo. Some of them were old allies from the succession war while others were old enemies, but the king treated all of them with respect and familiarity. All the while, Rupilo's warriors created a wall between Corco and their lord, despite their unfit equipment.

Unlike him, the king still boldly stood out in the open and spoke freely.

"Lord Rupilo, we didn't have much of a conversation during the assembly, did we? In fact, we haven't talked much ever since that banquet before my father's second funeral."

Even hidden behind his guards, Rupilo looked like a cornered rat. How could a single man sweat this much, in this weather no less?

"King Corco, this lord wishes to apologize for the incident back then. Never did this lord intend to offend King Corco or Governor Saqartu."

"Oh, you wanna apologize now that I've brought an army?" Corco's smile widened. "Okay, I forgive you. In return, just lay down your arms and surrender."

"King Corco seems to have developed a fancy for humor." A nervous laugh accompanied Rupilo's attempt at levity, but Corco's smile faded in response.

"...why would I be joking? You think I would give a shit about your fake apology? On the other hand, I really don't want to kill any of our people and stoke animosity further, not if I can avoid it. Remember what I said when I came back: We're surrounded by enemies, and unless we unite, we will be swallowed by the change that has come over Medala and the world. I don't want to drag this war out further and see your people tread all over your own people to feed your ambition. Lay down your arms now, and we can throw out the Arcavian merchants and Chutwa scholars and reform the empire to the benefit of the Yaku people."

Of course Corco wouldn't have talked like that if he had been accompanied by his wolf mercenaries, but now they were among Yaku. Even though he wasn't that adamant about keeping out the 'evil' foreigners, he wasn't lying: From the moment he had seen how much influence foreign powers had in Medala, it had been his goal to reduce the influence of nations like Chutwa and Borna on their internal politics. Considering the kinds of people his fellow kings had surrounded themselves with, he was the obvious choice of king if the other lords wanted the same.

"Why would such an honor be bestowed to King Corco?" Although he still seemed uncomfortable, Rupilo managed to refute the king's claim. "After all, out of all the kings, King Corco has spent the longest time away from Medala. Just look at the army the king has brought. Just how many foreigners are within it?"

"I never said we don't need the foreign influence." Corco shook his head. "I'm not speaking for the Ancestral Hall after all, I just don't want our future be determined by some foreign king. What we need is to make use of the new ideas from the east and the west and make them our own. It's the only way to go if we don't want to be swallowed by the waves about to hit us from both shores. That's why my army uses modern weapons and modern tactics. Remember what I said after I beat your king half to death: To the victor go the spoils. With your antiquated troops, you can't win this battle, and I don't want to kill my own people. That's why you get this chance to stand down."

As the king spoke, Rupilo developed a deep frown. Although Corco thought his words were sensible, he only really addressed the other lords and never tried to appeal to their paranoid commander. No matter what, Rupilo would never change his opinion, since he would always fear Corco's retaliation. As predicted, the lord looked back to his troops for a moment, before his features firmed up.

"King Corco seems to have made a mistake. The men behind this great commander are merely a fraction of King Pachacutec's troops and already our numbers as well as our imposing aura are superior to King Corco's men. Soon, King Pachacutec's men will appear behind, and they will wipe out your forces. It appears the king's position is not nearly as strong as he pretends it to be."

Corco only blinked in confusion at the lord's outrageous statements. Why would Rupilo tell him their entire plan, no matter how obvious it was?

"It seems like King Corco has now understood how dire his situation is," Rupilo said, emboldened by Corco's silence. "In that case, it would be best for King Corco and his men to surrender now. Maybe King Pachacutec will show mercy with his brother once he appears."

"Why would you ever tell me your plans?" Since he couldn't come up with any logical reason, in the end the king had to ask. Rupilo's eyes grew large and his voice pitched even higher.

"There is nothing you can do even if you know!"

"You understand that I marched towards you, right?" he almost shouted as he pointed out his opponent's nonsense argument. "You think I did that if I thought my army wasn't able to beat yours? I'm here to smash apart your troops, before Pacha can come back to save you. Why would I come here if I wasn't confident in doing that? Once I found out that you had split your army in three I even picked you on purpose, cause out of all three commanders, you're the most useless one."

"No matter what you say, your tricks and empty words will not work on this lord."

As Rupilo stubbornly stuck to his fantasy, Corco calmed down and observed him in more detail. From the sweat and the nervous hand movements, to the high-pitched voice, at last Rupilo's actions made sense. With a smile, Corco focused even harder on the increasingly fidgety lord.

"I get it now, you never wanted to be the commander. Did you piss off my good uncle Pacha somehow? In the end, you're just scared. You've been a coward all your life, and now you're afraid that I've come back to take revenge for your latest transgression. That's why you blurt out all your strategies, and it's why you're hiding behind your honor guard: You want your new master to protect you and you pretend strength to make me back off. But you seem to forget: I've already beaten your master twice, and I can do it again, as many times as I want. Whatever you say, I will make you pay for your actions at uncle's last moments. No dying man should have to see all his work crumble before him like that, least of all someone as great as him."

"Outrageous! This lord has always been one of great honor, and fears no one. You are just an unproven brat, how could you lead anyone!?" Rupilo's words would have been much more convincing if his high-pitched voice didn't crack halfway through his denial, or if he at least had the gall to stand.

"You really are a bastard, and deserve what's coming to you, but not everyone does. What about all these brave warriors on the hill behind you? Most of them are not even the men of House Rupilo. Are you really ruthless enough to sacrifice brave Yaku just to preserve your own life?" As Corco spoke, he could see the other lords around the commander frown.

"I think there is a better way," the king continued, "so how about this: To set aside our differences we fight it out in a duel, just the two of us. You get to show this 'unproven brat' just what a real warrior is like and you can even restore your honor by beating me. And if you lose, your army stands down and doesn't get involved in the war anymore. Perfect, right?"

"Impossible! King Pachacutec would never allow it!"

"Who gives a shit what Pacha wants or not? Those aren't his warriors either. Is he some kind of absolute ruler that he can decide the fate of his lords' servants?"

He glanced over at the other lords who had grown more and more hesitant throughout the conversation, now more than ever unhappy with their representative. Before Rupilo could even answer, the king made his next offer.

"Okay, you don't want a duel, cause you're afraid I'll kick your ass. I get it. Then how about a stargazing brawl? We haven't had one of those in a while. You pick one hundred of your best men, and I pick whatever I have lying around. Again, you only need to risk your own men and won't harm anyone else with your incompetence, and this time you don't even have to die if you lose. Sound fair? I think so too."

Rupilo's eyes rolled around in their sockets as the lord thought about his chances. However, when he saw Corco's grin, his face turned pale. He must have remembered the one-sided stargazing brawl between Corco and Pacha back during the succession war.

"King Corco, this is a proper war," he stubbornly squeezed out between his teeth. "The time for polite duels has long passed. We will not move from this spot, not until the rebellious south has been pacified by the great King Pachacutec."

"That so, huh?" Corco peeked at the other lords. "Lord Fulcinius, what do you think about your commander's plan? Wasting your men in a pointless conflict for some king who doesn't care about you? Just to protect the safety of a coward?"

From the start, he had never expected Rupilo to play along with any talks of duels. All this time, he had been more interested in the opinions of the other lords, who would risk their warriors under the command of a cowardly oaf. Although they didn't answer Corco, they didn't look hostile and didn't contradict his claims either.

"King Corco, these simple ploys to splinter our resolve can only fail. We will continue to stand firm together." Instead, Rupilo spoke for them, eliciting more frowns from his allies.

"Sure, you do that. In that case, I guess we'll see each other on the battlefield. See you soon, and best of luck. You'll need it."

With those words, the king gave a lazy wave, turned and left. Once he had returned to the top of the hill, Corco was greeted by his attendant.

"So it appears the negotiations were not fruitful?" Tama asked.

"Well, I never thought they'd actually make way for us. Rupilo is way too scared and way too dependent on Pacha to make such a bold decision all by himself. Still, I wouldn't say that nothing came of the meeting. The other lords around Rupilo looked less and less happy about his attitude the longer the talks went. Although he says they stand together, let's see how long their alliance lasts once things go south. Plus, after his cowardly actions, the other lords will demand some kind of response from Rupilo. If he isn't a complete idiot, he has to send out at least his skirmishers for some token prodding, unless he wants to completely ruin the morale of his men."

"Movement from the front! Enemy skirmishers are advancing towards our position."

"And here we go. Have our flintlock muskets meet them... and make sure to keep an eye on their shock infantry. I'm not gonna have us be complacent and allow them to flank us."

"Understood, King Corco."

As Tama relayed his orders, the king stared down the hill, where around one hundred warriors with bow and arrow were ready to force Corco's troops into action. At the same time, his own musketeers moved into position halfway up the hill. Sending skirmishers to start the battle was a move as standard in Medala as Rupilo's troop deployment had been. By the end of the day, Corco expected the lord to learn a lot about modern warfare.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

189 Skirmish

From atop Rupilo's hill, the dull thump of drums drenched the air in the familiar sounds of Medalan battle. As ordered by the rhythm of the drums, Rupilo's archers marched towards the foot of Corco's mountain.

Although the old Medalan troops and Corco's more modern pike and shot army were about to clash in a major engagement for the first time, the king wasn't all that worried. Halfway down the hill, his new troops had taken position in four rows. Just like they had been taught during their training, they went down on their knees in the snow, placed their muskets on their thighs and began the loading process. Meanwhile, the skirmishers of the central army at the foot of the hill showed far less coordination.

The almost one hundred men were loosely organized in groups of twelve. As far as Corco knew, the standard size of Medalan army units was chosen in ridiculous fashion, based on nothing but ancient numerology. Since twelve was considered an auspicious number, twelve warriors would always beat thirteen, at least as far as the ancestors were concerned.

Even those individual groups of twelve didn't show much internal cohesion. After all, warriors were no soldiers in the strictest sense, they were a societal class. As such, there were great differences in the speed and quality of their cultivation, as well as in their personal training. Since every warrior had his own path to improvement – dependent on how well they were received by their master and his family – they would also be bestowed with different amounts of 'blessings' from their benevolent lords. They were not allowed any private property, so everything they owned would be alms. Thus, they all wore slightly different equipment and all had slightly different levels of skill. With such a great difference between them, it was no wonder that they rarely trained together in formation.

Even worse, since full-on wars were the exception and stargazing brawls the rule, most Medalan battles were fought between small elite teams and often amounted to several simultaneous one-on-one duels. There was simply no need for these elites to ever learn how to march in a neat formation. This was even more pronounced for the skirmisher units at the foot of the hill.

The archery-focused warriors would fight like the ocean waves, at least that was what his old teachers had taught Corco. In Medala, the main purpose of archers was to weave in and out of range and harass the enemy front lines to lower morale or force an unfavorable charge. As such, the skirmishers consisted of small, mobile teams, more focused on evasiveness than on projectile density, something they would actually need against an organized group of ranged foes. Their equipment was even less suitable for this engagement than their formation. Since their main purpose was to harass traditional Medalan infantry lines, their arrows were much heavier than those of a regular army.

After all, these weapons were designed to punch through the heavy armor of the core infantry. Traditionally, these weapons made the archers terrors on the battlefield, cultivators who spent decades perfecting their craft and whose speed, range and power made them untouchable by anyone else. This time however, their greatest strength had become their bane.

Since the arrows were so heavy, they would have shorter range than one would expect from a bow. They would especially struggle to shoot uphill, further reducing their range. On the other hand, the gentle slope of the current terrain was perfect for the new muskets. Corco was quite confident that his new flintlocks would out-range the highly specialized Medalan bows.

In fact, Rupilo's tactics made sense in theory. After all, he would have seen the effects of a proper musket from his Bornish allies and would be well aware of the range of these weapons. Even with all the disadvantages heaped on top of one another, those bows would still fire their arrows farther than any of the muskets on Rupilo's side could.

Unfortunately for the army of the central kingdom, Corco's new muskets were the first batches produced in Saniya and had received significant upgrades. In this case, the biggest advantage was the new rifling that had been stamped into the inside of the barrels. Although the rifling was shallow and repeated use would quickly wear it out because of the front-loading nature of the weapons, the rotation added to the balls still improved both on accuracy and effective range by margins Rupilo couldn't even imagine.

As a result, the first volley of gunfire blasted its cracking sound across the battlefield long before the skirmishers were in position. Though their loose formation saved them from greater damage by the focused attack of Corco's line, the archers were still visibly shaken. Faced with an unknown threat, even the experienced warriors paused their slow, steady march for a moment. Up until now, they had thought themselves at a safe distance, but now men beside them sank into the snow screaming. Still, the well-trained warriors were only deterred for a moment and soon pressed on.

From the foot of the hill, Corco's new army must have looked like a group of beggars to the noble soldiers. Those new musketeers only carried simple, practical armor on their backs, fitting for the commoners they were. If only the archers could get into range, their higher rate of fire and better armor would get them a crucial advantage.

Yet once again, the warriors were sorely mistaken. Instead of using loose powder like the old-timey matchlocks of the Arcavians, these new muskets were loaded with powder granules, much more compact with a much stabler ignition. Even better, the entire charge – together with the lead ball – was encased in a paper cartridge. Both innovations significantly reduced not only the amount of powder needed per shot, they also cut down the reload time by more than half. At the same time, the new weapons had also been built as flintlocks, a massive step up from the matchlocks Borna still seemed to be using. The flintlock mechanism reduce the reload times even further, while it also allowed for much tighter formations.

A matchlock would be ignited manually, with a lute off to the side of the weapon. As a result, the gunman would need sufficient space to operate to his right, where he would carry a flame to ignite his lute. However, since the lute was no longer necessary for a flintlock, there was no more need for open flames or complex procedures, so the soldiers could stand much closer together. The result would be a veritable storm of bullets haling down onto their unsuspecting enemies.

Just as expected, under the heavy fire, losses among the enemy's elite skirmishers piled up. Accuracy at this distance was abysmal, but with so many projectiles being fired, enough still found their target; the damage began to add up. Somehow, pushed on by the battle drums in their backs and the war cries from among their midst, the archers managed to push past the foot of the hill and finally entered range.

Still, they only managed to fire a few token shots in return. They did no more than necessary to pretend they had followed orders, before they helped up their injured companions and rushed back, beyond the devastating power and range of the new era of warfare. Corco understood them, really. Why would they risk their lives under the command of some cowardly lord who wasn't even their own master? Why die pointlessly when their true master should have asked them to first preserve their own lives. After all, the lords in Pacha's alliance were here to make a profit and get onto the eventual winner's good side. They hadn't come to lose valuable men, and neither had those noble warriors come to throw away their lives of luxury in some pointless battle on a freezing winter morning.

Thus ended the first major engagement of the war. Only a handful of one-sided exchanges and the elite warriors of Rupilo had been beaten back. For the commander, it might have been an annoying setback, but there still hadn't been any damage done to the core of King Pacha's army. For Corco however, this victory looked like a chance. Without a second thought, the king grabbed hold of the megaphone by his side and stepped up, next to the simple commoner soldiers who had just won the first engagement for him. One by one, they silenced their relieved shouts of victory as they understood who had come before them. With large eyes, these simple soldiers stared at their king, who deigned to walk among them.

"Fellow men of Saniya!" the king shouted in an address to his new troops. "All your lives you've looked down! Craftsmen looked down on their handiwork, dockworkers looked down on the cargo of others, farmers looked down on their fields, always afraid that those high up would take your lives on a whim! They are the very same who now stand opposite you!"

He paused for a moment before he addressed the leaderless warriors of the southern lords. "Warriors of the south! All your lives you've walked in fear and anguish, always oppressed by those in the north who claim that we are equal, the very same who now stand atop that hill!"
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

While he pointed his hand at their enemy, Corco caught his breath as he let the first part of his speech sink in. Although the king's clothes were made with high-quality material, they appeared simple and practical. His upper arms were left without sleeves, to show his tattooed arms, his southern heritage.

"Now that they are so close to you, are you afraid to face them? Why, are they too strong? Too experienced? Those great warriors of the north who beat your fathers and your masters thirty years ago! Is their armor too firm, are their weapons too sharp, as their splendor shines in the sun? Have they convinced you that they are beyond your grasp, have you given up?" His hand lowered, and instead of the shiny enemy army, he pointed at the mess of white and red that was left behind by the archers at the foot of the hill.

"Yet look at them now, as they flee before our combined power. Hear the thunder of the musket, and hear the screams of your enemy! Smell the gunpowder in the air, and the blood! What do their old ideas of battle have in front of us, in front of progress? Isn't it time to throw off the yoke they have put over us for centuries? It is time to fight back, to push back, time to show them that we are not afraid, not lesser than them. So I ask you to look up. Raise your head and see above your station, and face these warriors with me, as equals. Let's show them what a real southern man is made of!"

Roaring shouts of agreement entered his ear. First they came from his own men who had been instructed by Tamaya, but soon everyone atop their hill was infected.

"March ahead, southern warriors, march and fight for your lives, for your place in the world, for all our futures, and be remembered as heroes by your descendants, who will live free of oppression!"

As the impassioned speech ended, more thunderous shouts followed, enough to drown out the drums of their opposites. At this point, even the king had lost all control over his men as they raised their weapons and screamed away their fears. After Corco had rushed back to his initial position, his formation had already started to move. Corco had wanted to pump them up so they would bravely face the enemy soldiers and not screw up when the chips were down, but this sort of enthusiasm wasn't part of his plan. Before he had even given orders for a proper plan of attack, the troops had already, to the man, begun to march down the hill.

*Did I hit a nerve? Maybe the speech wasn't actually my greatest idea.*

"Call them back," the flustered king ordered. However, even Tama's repeated attempts at giving orders didn't make the mob stop.

Overenthusiastic as they were and supported by gravity on their way down, some of them even began a charge. Within seconds, the king's precious formation was threatening to lose all function. Luckily, there was still the snow. The most excited of men were soon stuck up to their calves in the thick white blanket, enough to slow their advances and cool their heads. Just in time, the more experienced warriors on the flanks and the unaffected mercenaries in the center managed to calm the overenthusiastic commoners, and soon the troop leaders remembered the roles they had been taught for half a year.

With a huge sigh of relief, Corco watched his men respond to the orders and take proper position at the foot of their hill. Somehow, the enemy had failed to capitalize to their horrible mishap. If they had charged as well and turned the battle into a brawl, this could have been the end of his glorious campaign. Now however, the southerners were reigned in again and the crisis was averted. Still, even though the initial excitement was gone, there was an invisible tension in the air, ready to burst again at any moment. His men trembled, in anticipation or fear, ready to face what they must. Soon enough, Corco's men had moved in on the hill occupied by Pacha's army.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

190 Standoff

When Corco's men were finally in the formation they were supposed to take up from the start, there was still a long distance between the two armies, and Rupilo's troops hadn't moved an inch. While they watched the southern commoners stumble down the hill without any organization, they failed to act. As Corco's hordes calmed themselves and lined up in an orderly formation, Pacha's warriors still stood their ground high atop the hill.

If they wanted to get close enough for a proper volley, Corco would have to lead his men halfway up the hill. At that point, a simple counter charge would break their lines and erase the fragile courage the southern commoners had built up. That had been Rupilo's plan, at least.

With frustration, the commander watched as his enemy once more acted beyond his expectations. Rather than charge up the hill, the troops stopped short a good few paces away. Only the left flank continued to advance until the entire army had formed a slanted line. Even though the inexperienced southern army took plenty of time to get into position, no one on the side of Pacha's forces moved. The main reason for it was, of course, their commander. Rupilo wouldn't move until he understood what sort of nonsense games the southern king was playing. Yet others were not nearly as patient.

"Lord Rupilo, why would you not allow our troops to charge the enemy's disorganized line?" Annoyed at the repeated interruption of the other lords, the commander turned around. Although they all had the same status, he had been given command of the army. It was time to stamp down a foot and show them who was in charge.

"Lord Fulcinius, are you challenging the command given by King Pachacutec?" he asked with a frown.

"Of course not. However, some of the warriors atop this hill are my own servants. This lord believes to have some justifiable right to decide their fate."

"Then if Lord Fulcinius wishes to not lose all of his warriors in the engagement, he best listen to his commands." Rupilo remained stubborn. As the commander, he could just stick Fulcinius and his men into the front lines if he didn't listen.

However, all he earned for his threat were sneers from the other lords and a snort from Fulcinius.

"Even if you are the commander you do not stand above the other lords. Or are your fellow lords too lowly for the great House Rupilo? With how you have led the men so far, our counsel cannot be any worse than our brilliant strategist commander's mind."

Although he hated the other lord for his crass words, Rupilo had to swallow down his anger. He couldn't just offend all other lords here, no matter how tempting it was. In the worst case, they might even take their men and leave the battlefield before the main engagement. Even if he could escape from King Corco's vengeance in that case, what would King Pacha do with him if he drove away the king's subordinates out of spite? So he remained quiet and motioned the loudmouth lord to continue.

"Now then, I will ask again: Why has our brilliant commander not exploited the broken formation of our enemy when they were advancing? They clearly are a band of commoners who lack any sort of discipline. Had we caught them at their moment of disorganization, we would have already won the tussle."

"What disorganization?" Rupilo answered. "Look at their lines now. Clean, tight spacing and an even march at an even step, they appear far more ordered than our own. Clearly this obvious 'weakness' during their initial charge was nothing more than that southern king's ploy to lure us into an attack. Believe me, as his former ally I know this King Corco better than anyone else here. That southern king is sly and tricky. Had we seized that moment and attacked, we would have run right into that boy's trap!"

"That cannot be true. What sort of tricks can this southern brat have against our brave men?" Fulcinius still looked unconvinced, so now it was Rupilo's turn to sneer.

"Do not underestimate them just because they are from the south. What these outsiders lack in strength, they make up for in slyness. Just look how those foreigners from across the Weltalic Sea treated us, even though they were meant to be our allies."

"What do you mean?" Fulcinius lowered his voice a bit as he spoke. In truth, none of the lords liked the new foreigners around King Pacha very much. Any dirt on them would be very welcome.

"Did everyone believe it was a mistake to send out our skirmishers for harassment? However, how could I have known that the new enemy hand cannons had such outrageous range, much farther than even our most elite archers? Although we have our own versions of these weapons, they fire little more than half that distance. Since the southern weapons were far superior to the ones we have received, we lost the first engagement and some valuable men. It must have been the fault of that foreign demon called Herak. He must have given us older, weaker weapons to trick us. Surely he laughed behind our backs as he unloaded his old and faulty arms onto us and even received the king's praise for it."

"...that might be the case." Although it seemed far-fetched, Fulcinius was more than willing to blame their failures on the foreign lord who had gotten more and more of the king's attention. None of the Medalan lords wanted to share their spoils with the newcomers after all.

"Yes, and the southern brat must have known about this as well," Rupilo concluded. "Do not be fooled by the fact that they now fight on opposite sides. According to my informants, Herak and Corco lived in the same barbaric lands for years. Who is to say that all of this is not part of their ploy? We might very well have been maneuvered into a trap. Which is why we have to stand firm and resist any rashness."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Rupilo was a lot less assured of his reasoning than he let on. In truth, he had just wracked his brain so he wouldn't have to face Corco in a direct confrontation. Even if he had wanted to lead a charge, his military training was lacking. He had never been one to favor combat, but now that the role had been thrust upon him, he didn't have much of a choice, not unless he wanted to become the laughing stock of the entire nobility. The fact that his excuse managed to throw dirt at Herak was just a small added bonus.

"Then what does Lord Rupilo suggest we do? Just stand around and withstand their fire?"

"Why not?" Rupilo shot back. "Really, why are we meant to do anything? Our runners have long been sent out to inform King Pachacutec, and the king's army should already be on its way here. Once the king reaches, the southerners will be surrounded by our superior forces on all sides. There is no need to rush our victory. All we need to do then is to stand fast. Even more, their weapons are ranged, and require a large amount of gunpowder for every shot they fire. If we only stand fast, their precious new toys will soon become worthless."

"But... is their firepower not impressive?" Another lord asked. Surely, the image of their archers getting gunned down was still fresh in his mind.

Rupilo only laughed at the suggestion and turned to his attendant. "What are the losses among the skirmishers?"

"Master, it appears as if two of the skirmishers have died, while another eleven have been injured before they retreated. Since their wounds resemble mere small incisions, they should be combat ready once more within a few days."

"Through several salvos of their newfangled weapons, from atop a hill and with all advantages on their side, they only managed to cause this little damage." Rupilo shook his head. "Rather than the intense fire from these weapons, is the failure of the skirmishers not down to their own weakness?"

"Are you suggesting our men are weak, Rupilo?" The voice of Fulcinius turned sharp once more.

"Barely one in ten men lost and they already retreat in panic," the commander summed up the failure of these cowardly warriors. "Obviously, they know nothing of the honor of war. Since none of you have taught your servants right, I cannot be too ambitious with our tactics. If nothing else, your warriors should be able to stand their ground. Go and tell your men. No one moves until I give the orders."

Although the other lords still seemed unhappy, there was no more time left to argue. While Rupilo had been busy convincing them of his competence, Corco's men had inched ever closer to their formation. By now, the front of his slanted line had come within range of Rupilo's right flank. With a vicious look, Fulcinius left behind a "you best know what you are doing, Rupilo," before he left to join his men on the right.

Since they didn't have enough room atop the hill to place all their soldiers, their height advantage was nullified completely on the right flank. Even though he finally understood the purpose of the slanted line, the commander only frowned at the actions of the southerners and showed no other response, not even when the commoner troops kneeled down and loaded their weapons.

As far as Rupilo was concerned, there was no reason to risk everything in a blind counterattack. These weren't even his own men. So long as he could hold off Corco, reinforcements would arrive. If he could allow King Pacha to win, Rupilo could let as many warriors die as necessary. Once the southern brat had thinned out the warriors from those arrogant lords under his command and the true king had arrived, they could show that loudmouth boy just who would take revenge on whom.

Yes, Rupilo would not forget the shame he had received from Corco and his men, neither the tall claims at the foot of the hill nor the scolding at the banquet back then. That so-called southern king held no power over a noble lord such as himself. Rupilo had been perfectly justified in his actions back then, so why would he have to suffer for them?

Just as the lord wanted to spin more excuses to calm his guilt, a familiar sound demanded his attention. With a jump, he watched as the enemy opened fire once more. This time, their numbers was sill similar to the previous skirmish. After all, because of their strange formation, only a fraction of Corco's army would fire. Wasn't this level of fire insignificant in front of an entire army? With only two hundred or so weapons, how much damage could they truly do?

However, as he watched on, more and more screams pierced his ear through the constant barrage of thunder. Although the elite warriors of the lords, decked out in their shields and armor, looked like an immovable wall, their defenses proved futile in front of these new weapons. Volley by volley, ever more warriors were wounded and had to be dragged back through the center of the formation. However, even in safety, they wouldn't stop their incessant screaming.

Rupilo's frown deepened. How could the warriors of his allies be so weak? Wasn't Lord Fulcinius known for his courageous shock infantry? Weren't they men? By now Rupilo had seen the wounds for himself, and they looked not even as bad as a dagger's stab. Why were they screaming like little women over there? Already annoyed, his attendant brought further bad news.

"Master, the morale among the troops seems poor. On the right flank, Lord Fulcinius has requested to lead a charge against the enemy formation to disperse them and relieve some of pressure from his men."

"What do you mean, 'poor morale'? Who has poor morale?" the commander shouted in annoyance. "Can you not see that victory is near? Our enemies have been on the run for days and they traveled light. How much more ammunition can that dog southerner have hoarded? After another salvo or two to soften up our formation, they will charge us, and they will break under our superior strength."

For a bit, the attendant squirmed about under Rupilo's stern gaze, before he firmed his features.

"However, the unanswered losses and the screams have caused great damage to the spirit of the men. Maybe it would be prudent to launch a small counterattack to-"

"And let that southern brute lure us into a trap!?" Rupilo slapped his bold attendant's face. "This lord will not stand for it! Why are our men such weaklings, to be afraid of a bit of noise. Rather than fear, they should feel disgust at the weakness of Fulcinius' so-called warriors. By standing firm, we are simply helping our fellow lords clean out the trash."

"But master-"

"Hold fast!" he screamed. "That is the commander's order!"

"Yes, master."

With an increasingly grim expression, Rupilo stared at the never-changing battle. The enemy just kept firing salvo after salvo, unbroken. After he had observed some drills his men had run with the weapons from the foreign lord Herak, the southerners fired with a speed he couldn't believe, one to match the miraculous power of their tiny projectiles. Maybe Rupilo's guess really was right. Maybe the weapons they had received from Herak had been nothing but defective goods, meant to trick them. Still, Rupilo was sure that they could win if only they held firm. So long as he didn't make any mistakes, they would still be fine.

As more and more blood and screams filled the air, his hands developed a life of their own. By now, he could even hear uncomfortable murmurs around his command post. His own guards had become affected by the one-sided slaughter. Just as he thought they might be better off with a tactical retreat, the banner of House Fulcinius on the right flank began to move. A small contingent of their shock warriors broke off and left the formation towards the north.

Since his attendant was nowhere to be seen, Rupilo rushed over himself to sort out the obvious betrayal. He had only taken a few steps when his attendant rushed towards him, completely out of breath. Rupilo grabbed the weakling by his neck and shouted in his face.

"What are they doing!? I said 'stand firm'!"

With a pale, sweaty face, the attendant stared at his lord for a few seconds before he relayed his message.

"Master, Lord Fulcinius answers: He does not need master's advice in warfare and will handle battle by himself."

"What! I am in charge of this expedition! I am the commander! How dare he-" As he was about to launch into a tirade, Rupilo spotted more movement from the battlefield. On Corco's side, the warriors of the southern lords moved north to intercept the flanking strike of Fulcinius. While this was expected, his own army's movements chilled his blood. First were the drums to announce the imminent disaster. After a battle cry to regain some semblance of morale, Rupilo's entire right flank charged towards the tip of Corco's slanted formation, with almost no coordination!

"Bastards!" the commander shouted, and threw his hapless attendant into the snow. "What are they doing!?"

"Master, we need to support them or our entire formation will fall apart!" the servant said as he propped himself up.

Now Rupilo had no choice but to act. If they didn't charge to support their allies, they would lose their entire right flank for nothing, and possibly even the entire battle shortly after. He had to support Fulcinius, no matter how much he hated the bastard. Even so, Rupilo just stood there for a few precious moments, his body incapable of making the decision as he thought of more ways to avoid a fight.

"Master, please," his attendant begged, now on his knees. "We need to support our troops or King Pacha will charge us with treason."

"Damn, damn, damn!" Spittle flew as Rupilo stomped around atop the hill. "If we lose, it will be his fault! Call on all men! We are charging down the hill!"
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

191 Charge

"This is going way too well. What are they planning?" Ever since the start of the battle, Corco had been confused by Rupilo's movements, or lack thereof. Their first engagement still had made some sense. The enemy commander had false or incomplete information about the southern army's weapons and tactics, and the attack of the archers was only a probe meant to rectify those deficiencies.

Now however, the elite warriors of the proud northern lords just stood there and let Corco's line infantry attack them with no reply. He had expected them to try and disturb his deployment, or at least charge after a volley or two, but somehow they had failed to act at all. As a result, all his preparations to overcome a desperate struggle were out of the window, and the king was left confused.

"King Corco, I have already doubled the number of scouts in the surroundings, yet they are still unable to find any suspicious movements," Tamaya said as her worried smile appeared before the king's brooding face. "Although the enemy's left flank just sent out a sizable contingent to outflank us, our own warriors will be more than enough to entangle them for the rest of the battle. By now, the flanks should have already engaged a good distance away, too far to get involved."

"Since everything else is normal, how do you explain this nonsense?" Corco gestured to the right flank of the enemy formation, which already had more holes than a swiss cheese. That reminded him that there was much Medala needed to improve on in terms of dairy products. How was he expected to eat pasta without any proper Parmesan?

"I am not an expert in tactics." Tama's awkward reply returned Corco back to reality.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"But you could still do better than this, couldn't you?" Like he had done countless times since the start of the battle, the king put the telescope up to his eyes and checked the banners atop the hill for any unusual action. "Just tell your ghosts to be wary of any tricks. Something weird is happening on their side and I don't want any surprises."

"They have begun to move." Tama's hand lightly tapped his shoulder to alert him, before he could feel a gentle force swing his telescope over to Rupilo's right flank again.

Again, he could hear the sound of drums, the harbingers of glory and terror so familiar to all Medalan nobles. For now the battle wasn't in full swing yet, so they could still communicate in such a way. This would soon change though. If Corco's entire line were to fire, the drums would disappear in all the noise. Now that firearms were about to take over the battlefields, another holdover from olden times was bound to disappear.

As he idly thought about the future, the warriors of the past charged towards his present front line without fear. Corco thought there was no reason to worry. He had placed his most experienced commoner infantry together with his battle-hardened wolf mercenaries at the front of his slanted line. Like machines, they fired volley after volley to gun down the warriors in droves. Now in their rhythm, Corco's muskets would fire and then slowly retreat to reload behind their comrades and cover the retreat of the next line.

As his slanted line evened out in the process, more and more troops on the front line came into firing distance of the charging warriors. Since only one flank had attacked them so far, the fire of Corco's entire line was concentrated on them alone. Even better, since the charge was too disorganized and loose, the warriors failed to use their shields properly and thus couldn't reduce the impact of the lead bullets. If nothing happened, they could scatter before they ever reached Corco's front line.

Confused, the king looked back up the hill, where the rest of Rupilo's troops finally began to move into action. Although they followed the charge of their allies, the few seconds they had wasted were enough to give them a critical disadvantage.

"No wonder I can't figure them out. They have no idea what they're doing either," Corco mumbled, his voice now drowned out by the constant gunfire. At last, the warriors on the flank had finally pushed through the hail of bullets. As they collided with the pike formation in front of the muskets, they disappeared behind Corco's men. At first his banner high atop the formation seemed to buckle; it swayed back and forth and was even forced back a few steps. Soon however, the halberdiers stabilized their line and the battle at the front turned into a drawn-out, exhausting tug-of-war.

At the same time, the charging core infantry of Rupilo's center had reached the foot of the hill. Still, there was quite a distance left before they reached Corco's de-slanted front line. Although they had to fight through the dense snow and were no longer pushed forward by gravity, it shouldn't be enough to eat their entire momentum. Even the musket fire which was now focused on them wouldn't be enough to break their charge.

As someone who had learned the art of war in Medala, Corco was well aware how scary a frontal warrior charge could be. Right before him, thousands of mounds of muscle, covered in steel, charged their line at the speed of racehorses. The sight really could put the fear of god into a man. This was the reason Corco had been so careful and uncertain all this time: Even with all of his cleverness, even with all of his advanced weapons and tactics, Corco still wasn't sure his new recruits could withstand a full-frontal bullcharge from proper warriors. Although his new methods were well-tested against knights all throughout history, no pike and shot formation had ever been up against an army of cultivators. Their struggle on the left flank only confirmed his worry.

Over on the left, the enemy had placed their shock infantry, those warriors armed with heavy -axes and cultivated for speed and power. Not only were they not as heavily armored as the core troops, they had already been thinned out and demoralized by repeated musket volleys, long before they ever got close to his line. Even then, the formation had still buckled, and Corco had no clear view of how his troops over there were doing. Since the battle in the center was about to heat up as well, all he could do was to trust Paec, the young commander put in charge of the left. Meanwhile, Corco had no time to care about his flank, since the wall of steel enlarged in his view and thousands of battle cries fought for hegemony against the fire of muskets.

This was Rupilo's core infantry, built to withstand punishment. Although they lacked the explosive speed and freakish strength of the shock troops on the flanks, they were endowed with never-ending endurance and an inhuman resistance to pain instead. These were the backbone of a Medalan army, ready to stand and fight for their lord until death. Breaking them would be no easy feat, and even though they were weaker than the shock infantry in a duel, they would still pose an immense challenge to Corco's band of inexperienced commoners in the center.

Though he might have been worried, he wasn't desperate. He wouldn't just cross the Narrow Sea and initiate combat if he didn't have a plan to nullify Pacha's strongest weapons. Up until now, he had been careful to not use all his cards, but now there was no more room to hold back. Convinced that the moment was ripe, Corco moved close to Tama and called into her ear to make sure she would understand.

"Ready the cannons! Staggered shots at ten meters distance!" he shouted, and Tama relayed the orders. Soon, a series of flags were raised behind him to communicate the message across the battlefield.

Although their charge wasn't broken by the musket fire, the warriors had already paid a heavy prize for their attacks. Corco's men held the most advanced weapons in this world, and they had been drilled to perform the singular motion of reloading and firing countless times in the past year. More and more warriors fell and dyed the snow red with their blood. Yet still they pressed on without fear. After the initial shock took them to the ground, many would grind their teeth and get back up, blood streaming down their limbs, torsos and faces. Guided by nothing but determination born out of fierce loyalty, they pressed on beyond human limits.

However, the orders to seal their demise had long been given. Some twenty meters before they reached the army, the front of the warriors slowed down until they could put together a larger group of twenty men or so. With their experience, they had the calm to organize a concentrated charge rather than a loose attack. Soon they sped up again and reached the front of Corco's line moments later.

Yet mere steps away from their goal, they were met with the hell of modern war. The boom of the cannon informed Corco, and the rest of the battlefield, about the grand finale of the battle. His spyglass directed at the enemy charge, Corco observed the group of two dozen soldiers, charging ahead with boiling blood and burning eyes. Yet without warning, they all dropped as if they had run into a solid wall. This time, not one of them got back up.

The heavy smell of gunpowder intensified and covered the blood in the air as the cannons spewed smoke, fire and death. In the face of artillery, even the thickest armor and greatest bravery were useless.

Of course, the impact of a single cannonball would barely make a difference on this chaotic battlefield. However, Corco's newly designed canister shot was different. Though 'designed' might have been the wrong word. In the end, the shot ammunition was nothing more than a cheap tin cartridge filled with metal scrap. Upon being fired, it would explode from the force of the blast and release a rain of shrapnel upon the hapless enemy. Essentially, the warrior charge had just been hit by a directed fragmentation grenade.

The power of the pieces was nothing compared to a solid cannon ball, but he wasn't here to sink ships. Each bit of jagged shrapnel bored its way through the armor and flesh of Pacha's elites as if they were made of paper. Just like the muskets, the cannons fired again and again. When they crossed the sea, they had brought a total of twenty-eight cannons with them, and it was finally time to put them to use. With the almost insurmountable wall of the iron in their way, the charge was finally broken. Once the first, disjointed stragglers reached Corco's line, they were easily stopped by the halberdiers. Yet Corco didn't expect a swift victory. Even in the face of hellfire and invisible walls of iron, the warriors of old would hold out for a long time and only retreat if they considered their defeat certain and their honor lost.

Still, for Corco, the central battlefield was already won. They had gotten through the worst period, so now he only had to wait out the results. With the center stabilized, he could focus on the remaining areas of the battlefield.

*How are the flanks doing?* he wondered, before his eyes turned to the south. On his right flank, the development had been similar to what he had seen on the left, but even more delayed. The shock infantry tried to flank, but was soon intercepted by the warriors of the southern lords. However, the downward slope and the sheer drop off the cliff into the open sea had made any brave attack sheer suicide.

Even more, the fighting on his right looked a lot less intense than the merciless war in the center. In the end, the men who had been stuck on Rupilo's flanks were little more than mercenaries themselves, warriors of opportunistic lords who would have been tasked to save their own lives over securing a dicey victory for an unpopular king. Until the end of the battle, they would perform a back and forth dance with his own men as both sides pretended to fulfill their duties.

Unlike the predictable right, the left flank was the one to surprise Corco. As soon he looked over, as if he had willed it himself, his banner atop his troops began to move. First a step, then another, his banner was pushed forward. At the same time, he could hear shouts of victory from the left. Soon, his semaphore system relayed their success as well. The shock troops of Lord Fulcinius had been exhausted, either physically or mentally, and were being pushed back. He could already see the first warriors disengage and abandon their formation, fleeing for their lives in a disorganized mob.

"Tell the left flank to ignore the broken troops, don't let them pursue. Let them swerve to right instead. Encircle the enemy!" Corco shouted. This was his chance to at least limit the bloodshed, to end the war early. Although whether or not his command would go through was highly questionable, he still had to try and spare as many as he could. There was no need to mow down a fleeing enemy. These were his people after all, even if they were on different sides for the moment.

Though whether or not Paec followed his command, they had as good as won. Already, he could see more and more units of Rupilo's right flank break off and run for the hills. As quickly as it had begun, the battle was over. If they could encircle Rupilo's center as well, he could make them scatter or surrender within the hour. Corco began to dream. A win this big might be enough to negotiate a peace even with his megalomaniac uncle.

"Order the front line to charge," he shouted at Tama as his eyes sank into an evil stare, "and tell my ten 'bodyguards' to get ready for a pursuit. I should make good on my threats for once."
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

192 Collapse

Rupilo couldn't feel his fingers any longer. He didn't know if it was from the cold, from clenching his fists too hard or from the fear that had crept into his bones.

When he had watched his warriors charge down the hill full of enthusiasm, he had still been optimistic. They were the elites of Medala's lords, and they had all come together to deal with the threat from the south as one. Yet as soon as they reached the foot of the hill, he had to let go of all his fanciful notions of victory. Like witchcraft, the noisy, inelegant weapons of the southern King Corco droned out their battle drums as they washed away their soldiers like dust in the rain.

When he had watched his warrior charge fail, the numbness had spread from his fingers all throughout his body.

Even when it seemed like they could push through and force a melee, they still failed spectacularly. As if held back by a divine being, his men just couldn't push past an area only a few steps away from the enemy front line. Every time an organized command of his core infantry charged the lines, Rupilo was hopeful once more; and every time, they would fall down as if hit by lightning.

He wanted to make fun of them, wanted to call them incompetent and blame them for his failures, but he just couldn't. Not in the face of such inferiority. Now he understood: even though he had been so careful, it still hadn't been enough. He never should have tried to fight against Corco, in any fashion.

Although his men finally pushed through to the front line, Rupilo's head was spinning and he barely noticed at that point. When his wide-open eyes stared at his collapsed right flank, a numbness had come over his entire body, and he soon collapsed on the floor.

When he came back to his senses, the battle was still fresh in his ear.

"Master!"

A desperate scream, together with the pull of a hand, brought Rupilo back to reality. His eyes still glazed over, he stared at the top of his command tent. If he hadn't recognized the washed-out red colors, we would have had no idea where he was. Before he could fully get his bearings, his personal attendant moved his head into his line of sight, his face filled with worry. Only now did Rupilo understand that he had lost consciousness and was lying on the ground.

"What happened?" he muttered. At least the battle still raged on in his ears, so he couldn't have been out for long. His servant shouldn't have heard the words, but he still answered.

"Master, our right flank has collapsed and the southerners have turned and threaten to encircle our front! We need to go and reinforce the line!" the attendant screamed. Though his face was pale, his eyes were still firm. Of course, bravery was much easier for him. This servant was only a simple warrior, while Rupilo was a mighty lord. Compared to him, what had some warrior to lose? Unlike his attendant, Rupilo couldn't just die here and pretend it was honorable.

He would have to get away, by any means necessary. If only he could escape from the battlefield today, he could still send tributes to the two kings for insulting them and wasting their warriors. Although his estate might face a few lean years as a result, there was no reason to bother with him so long as he remained in his territory for a decade or two, until everyone had forgotten about his transgressions.

Now that he had a proper goal in front of his eyes, life returned to the commander's body, and he finally sat up.

"Retreat," he ordered in a raspy voice.

"Master, the men are already on the back foot. Our front line has been driven back up the hill and is about to collapse. If we order a full-on retreat now, we will only speed up our demise." As he spoke with urgency, the servant helped up his master.

"Nonsense, what does some lowly warrior know?" he screamed and threw off his loyal servant's helping hand. Even though his sense of duty was grating, the servant's loyalty was the key to Rupilo's salvation. Loyalty was good, for loyalty made him stupid. And a stupid servant would be easier to take advantage of.

"Tell the second line reserve to step up and cover the retreat of our warriors in the front. Add in the skirmishers as well. They better perform if they don't want to be held accountable for their mistakes at the start of battle. Those commoner skirmishers will join in too, as will those useless warriors with the fake hand cannons from Herak. I don't care how many die, just make sure they can buy enough time for the lords. We can allow much, but we cannot allow King Corco to imprison lords of the central kingdom. We would never live down the shame!"

"What about the warriors?" the servant asked and glanced at the other guards in the tent. These men must have carried Rupilo into the tent after he had fainted.

"What about them?" Rupilo sneered. "The warriors will be fine! That king always says how much he cares about his people, so nothing bad will happen to them even if they are caught. In the worst case, we will just have to pay a bit of ransom to buy back our servants. The harvest was good this year, everyone will be able to pay that greedy merchant king. Now stop talking back and do what your master tells you!"

Although he looked unhappy, his attendant still lowered his head like a good dog.

"Yes, master. Of course, master."

"No, wait!" Rupilo called his attendant back before he could leave to relay his master's orders.

"You," the commander pointed at one of his honor guards. "You get to relay the orders. Take all other honor guards with you to make sure nothing happens on the way. The battle is chaotic after all. My attendant stays here, there's still much to do if we are to salvage this mess."

Like good little servants, the honor guards bowed and left without another word of complaint. As soon as they were gone, Rupilo began to take off his armor, to the stunned look of his attendant.

"Why stand there and watch like an idiot?" he scolded while he struggled with his helmet. "Help me get rid of all this pointless metal."

Without a word, but with a skeptical frown, the servant helped the lord remove his burdens. Although he looked like he wanted to say something, at last the loudmouth servant had learned his lesson and waited for his master to explain. Rupilo decided to reward him with the greatest honor he could think of.

"Good, once you're done with my armor, remove your own. We will be switching positions."

As he understood his master's words, his hands ceased and the servant stared in shock.

"Why look at your master like that? Are you trying to say you do not feel honored? For once in your life you will be allowed to wear a lord's armor and helmet. Even better, you will get the chance to command a king's army. What a great honor this will be for you."

Although Rupilo had given his servant such a great gift, the little bastard still dared to clench his teeth when faced with Rupilo's generosity. He had to go a step further.

"Your actions today will be a great boon to House Rupilo. Your family back home will lack nothing, should something happen to you."

The reverse of Rupilo's promise remained unspoken, but was obvious: Should the servant dare to rebel, his family would be the ones to suffer. In the end, the underling was still trained well enough and realized the grace bestowed upon him.

"This servant will obey," he managed to squeeze out, before he finally followed instructions.

"Move, move! We are short on time!" Rupilo urged him, the sounds of battle getting ever louder in his ears. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the useless servant had done his part and taken off his armor. Rupilo rushed to him and latched onto the sheets of metal as if they were a life raft.

"From now on, you are the commander of the king's army," he said while he squeezed into the cheap warrior armor. "You are to play the role of Lord Rupilo and will buy time for the lords to escape in the confusion. Do your job well and once I ransom your freedom, I will award you handsomely."

*That is, only if you survive the vengeful southern king's wrath,* he thought as he sneaked out of the tent, the helmet still not properly on his head. When he looked back upon his army halfway down the hill, there was only chaos left. Isolated pockets of warriors still showed resistance, but small black dots had spread all over the white countryside, as far as Rupilo could see.

Outside of his view, the mighty warriors of northern Medala had already scattered and fled for the hills. After he calmed his heart for a moment, their commander joined them in their attempt to avoid captivity. Hidden within his men like a tree in a forest, there was no way the southern brat could find him.

This wasn't the end of it. If only he could get through this crisis, Rupilo could still make up for his mistake. He was still a highly respected lord, with many warriors and great wealth at his disposal. He just had to squeeze the commoners a bit more and divide a few extra benefits to the surrounding lords. Maybe his people would bleed for a bit, and he might have to leave his Arguna mansion barren for a few years, but eventually, his house would rise once more.

As he forced his body through the ankle-deep snow, he cursed his own cheapness. Why had he handed his own attendant such low-quality armor? Although it looked quite pretty, the cheap iron was tight in all the wrong places and rubbed against the skin, while the poorly made hinges got caught and hindered his movement with every step.

He had never been the most diligent cultivator either, so his strength was barely beyond a normal commoner. Still, the lord pressed on. Driven by his desperation, he climbed hill after hill as he left the sounds of battle behind him. The deep furrow he left in the snow behind him was easy to follow, but trails meant nothing when there where thousands of them at once. Rather than help Corco, they were much more useful to himself.

Every time he came across someone's trail he changed directions, too afraid of facing one of his former subordinates. Some were lined in blood while others retained a pure white, but in either case, Rupilo couldn't know who they were and how they would react with no witnesses around. He wasn't willing to gamble, so soon enough, all the snow around him was pure white.

At some point, the sun behind him fell and colored the snow red. He felt reminded of the battle he had left behind, of the way the white had been soaked in blood. As he forced his burning muscles to march ever forward, the world began to spin around the lord again. Once he had crossed the crest of one hill among countless along Sinchay's southern coast, a heavy bout of nausea gripped the out-of-shape lord. Before he realized, he had already lost his footing and tumbled down the incline. For the second time in a day, the lord lost consciousness.

When he came back to his senses, he felt as numb and cold as he had atop that nameless hill. Just as powerless as back then, he tried to get back up, but his arms failed him.

"You, did you not hear us? Raise your head." This must have been why he had woken up. The voice sounded impatient, as if it had called him a few times already. Even so, how dare they talk to a great lord of Medala like that?

Somehow, he found enough strength to move his tormented body. His burning muscles forced his upper body out of the snow. The first thing he saw felt like a hallucination, as if he had seen warriors stand atop of two wooden boards.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

*What a peculiar thing to imagine,* he thought. Then, his eyes went further up, to see the lanterns the two men had hung on their belts. At last, his eyes fell upon their faces, and the recognition that bloomed on both of them.

"That is him! We did it, the bounty is ours! You go light the signal flare. I will restrain Lord Rupilo."

Shocked and frozen stiff, the lord failed to react at all. Even though he had tried so hard, even though he should have been safe, Corco's men had still found him. However, despite everything, Rupilo wasn't surprised that he had been recognized without his insignia.

The two men who had found him were people he had seen before. Never would he forget the humiliation he had received at the hands of King Corco at the foot of that hill, right before the disastrous battle. These were two of the ten faces who stood behind the king that day. They were the personal guards of King Corco.

Exhausted in both body and spirit, the lord didn't even struggle as the warrior bound his hands and feet with rope. He dreaded what King Corco would do with him. Maybe he would have been better off dead in the snow.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

193 Sinister Omens

Once they had left Lord Nasica's protection, an uneasy quiet overcame the group of disguised warriors and craftsmen led by Fadelio. Although they would be safe until they left the confines of the territory, everyone seemed worried of what was to come. They were already halfway to the southern border of Rumas when Fadelio's second-in-command finally expressed his worries.

"Young master Fadelio, I understand that our strength should be sufficient to break through the fake bandit camps King Pacha has set up around us. However, with all the baggage attached, our speed will be reduced too much. By the time we reach the Narrows, the enemy will be prepared. Then we have to face a reinforced position with additional troops and sturdier fortifications. If we have to carry all these commoners along, how will we ever make our way past the enemy encampment to reach Qarasi Castle?"

"You don't need to worry about our last section of road." Fadelio showed a shallow smile. "Our runners have been busy all this time, so we are well prepared. If everything goes to plan, passing through the Narrows will be the easiest part of our journey. Once we make it past Pacha's bandits, the war will be over."

He paused for a moment, before he looked at the commoners behind them, his voice turned serious. "Also, be careful with the way you address these craftsmen. While they might just be baggage to you, our king attaches great value to them. So much so that he asked us to personally escort them all the way from Arguna to Saniya. No matter what your personal thoughts on their worth are, you ought to respect them at least as much as your master does."

"This warrior apologizes for his boldness," the ghost nodded.

"It's good that you understand," Fadelio said as his view returned to the picturesque hills before them. The path from Lord Nasica's territory of Rumas to the Narrows wasn't especially tricky to traverse. Since they had decided to move further east, away from the Sallqata mountains, they would only cross hills and plains like these, dotted with villages. Only from time to time would their path be interrupted by smaller woods. However, on the borders between estates, the land was wilder and the vegetation thicker.

At this moment, they were following one of the many roads which ran through Medala like arteries, often alongside the life-giving rivers and streams so ubiquitous on the Twin Isles. Though this road would lead them through a forested area today, it wasn't anything compared to the border areas. It was so small, all the wood had long disappeared had the commoners been allowed free reign over it. If they didn't dawdle too much, they could make their way through the woods and make it out the other end long before nightfall.

Still, somehow he had an uncomfortable feeling when he thought about the trees beyond these hills. They had been prepared for a struggle, but so far they hadn't been bothered by Pacha's fake bandits at all. Although their convoy had too many warriors to be threatened in a direct engagement, there was still too little resistance from the group that had given them so much trouble on their way to Rumas.

"Send out some additional scouts and increase the search radius. We should be careful. Something is strange here."

Although they only had about a hundred soldiers with them, a large portion were the old emperor's ghost warriors, so there was no shortage of good scouts. All throughout their march, these warriors would form a perimeter around their convoy and come back with reports periodically. Now that Fadelio had become suspicious of their easy march, they swarmed out even further.

__________________________

"Young master, we have spotted an enemy detachment half a day west from here."

As soon as he sat down and put the first spoonful of soup in his mouth, Fadelio's simple meal was interrupted. Although they had stocked up on some quality ingredients to match the sophisticated stomachs of their warriors, Fadelio had made a point out of eating the same meals as the commoners around him. He swallowed down the watery soup and looked up at the scout who came towards him.

"What, again?" Fadelio asked and looked over to his second-in-command. "How many times does that make? At least ten, right?"

"Twelve, young master. The bandits won't come close enough to be considered a threat, but they are still following us."

Fadelio let out a groan and covered his eyes with his hands. Ever since they had first stopped to rest, they had received news of the bandits again, but their scouts had to move far away from the camp to actually see them. Yet despite the long distance, the bandits would always make sure that their presence was felt.

They would find leftovers of campfires along the way, sometimes even animal carcasses which had been skinned and taken apart, then left in the middle of the road. The bandits would always follow their tracks, never coming too close, but always near enough to make trouble should Pacha's people slip up. They were like a pack of hyenas, ready to pounce should a weak calf ever get separated from the main herd.

"Just how did they come up with this honor-free method?" Annoyed, Pacha looked at the commoners he had been put in charge of. All of them had been shaken up something fierce by now, none of them had retained the optimistic smiles from the start of their journey.

Since they knew that they were safe with all the warriors around them, the constant presence of the bandits had been nothing but a joke to them at first. Soon however, an uneasy tension had spread among the camp, especially with the commoners who were not used to this kind of mental pressure. In order to stabilize the situation, they needed to make some progress fast, so Pacha decided to break up the camp early and make their way towards the small, nameless forest they had decided to pass before nightfall.

However, when the trees came into sight, more trouble awaited. Although the forest should have been uninhabited, several spirals of smoke rose up from inside. When Fadelio used his spyglass to scout out the edge of the forest, he saw small groups of the bandits who had previously fought against them. They were just standing there, just inside of the trees' deep shadows. Without a word and without a sound, they observed Fadelio's group, before they slowly disappeared into the darkness.

"What are they doing?" his second in command asked. "They know they can't beat our troops in battle, so what is the point of this nonsense? Do they think they can scare us?"

"They can't beat us in a battle, but they can still screw us over if they want to." Unlike his underling, Fadelio had sported an ever-deepening frown since the bandits had started to harass the convoy. "In complex terrain like this forest, they can lay as many traps and ambushes as they want. That might not be enough to deal with our entire army, but their goal is not to wipe us out outright. They've understood that the craftsmen are our weakest link. They want to whip the commoners into a panicked frenzy to scatter us. Then they can deal with the small, isolated groups one by one. Once again, whoever their commander is, he is much smarter than Pacha deserves."

"Then what do we do?"

Fadelio had been thinking about alternatives all this time, but so far he had come up empty. There really was no surefire way to deal with these sorts of tactics. Still, they would have to do their best. Laqhis relied on it.

"We don't really have many options," he said in the end, his stern eyes focused on the dangerous forest. "We will take a small detour around the woods and as much as possible avoid areas with low visibility on our way south. How much longer would that take us?"

"If Lord Nasica's maps are to be believed, these woods do not seem too extensive, but we would still lose several hours if we turn around this close to it. If we want to circumvent every bit of rough terrain between here and the Narrows, our path would end up at least twice as long. That is several more days until we reach the south."

Again, Fadelio sighed. He didn't like it, but he couldn't risk complete failure just to speed things up. As far as he knew, they weren't in a hurry anyways. "Let's just hope master can handle an extra day or two of delays. For now, we will plot out the safest route and go around any potential ambushes. Our goal isn't combat, we're here to escort the commoners. Let's make sure nothing bad happens to them."

__________________________

Fadelio's plan had been going rather well. For the next few days after they had switched to a safer route, they hadn't been attacked once. Today however, the arrival of a runner brought further complications with him.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Corco forced a battle with a third of Pacha's army?" Fadelio asked. "What was the result?"

To belie Fadelio's dire face, the runner beamed.

"Overwhelming success. The enemy army has been scattered and destroyed. Since the king's troops have proven themselves in combat and the size of the enemy army has been reduced by a third, King Corco has decided to stand and fight. Rather than lead King Pachacutec further west and allow him to destroy more of the Yaku countryside, he will turn east and find a defensible position to hold. He will remain there until young master Fadelio has escorted the craftsmen past the Narrows. King Corco asks Official reach the south as soon as possible, but also asks Official to be wary of his own safety in the process."

Faced with Corco's endless optimism, Fadelio could feel a headache coming on. No matter how hard he thought, his master's demands seemed impossible. If they wanted to guarantee their safety, they could go around the forests and take the slow route, like they had been doing. This way though, they would have to march at least another two days towards the west and then tail all the way back along the coast, until they reached the Narrows.

If they wanted to be fast, they could go through the forests. However, the craftsmen were uneasy enough already and the bandits had never gone far. He really didn't want to force the commoners through a scary forest filled with ambushes and traps. He would risk a mass panic, exactly what the bandits had been aiming for all this time.

After Fadelio had remained quiet for a while, the runner asked in a careful tone.

"...should I inform the king that Official needs more time?"

"No," Fadelio shot back, "we can handle the orders."

Even though their situation was a bit precarious, he didn't want Corco to risk his life - and the lives of most of their soldiers - just to save a few commoners. Yes, the first batch of craftsmen were important to Saniya, but Fadelio wasn't as attached to them as Corco might have been. Even If they had failed the migration once, they could always try again. There were plenty of these people left in Arguna and all over the Medalan towns and cities, so he would never prioritize their safety over that of Corco's warriors.

"We will change our course and take a more direct route south. Until now, I have been too conservative because I overestimated the amount of time I had. Once you return, tell the king he shouldn't worry, his orders will be executed. Once we have made our way through the Narrows, we will send a flare signal, so he should keep his sights eastwards and prepare his retreat."

"Understood."

As soon as the runner had left with his message for Corco, Fadelio's firm appearance wavered. Right away, he began to write a short letter and then called for one of the ghosts in his own team.

"You will bring this message to Commander Dedrick stationed in the Narrows." He handed over the piece of paper. It contained his precise plans for the next few days, together with the route they were about to take and an urgent demand to meet them halfway. The path through the forest would be harsh, but this way, they wouldn't have to go the entire distance. Once they were united with Dedrick's army, no amount of harassment could shake them anymore.

As soon as his orders had been given, the entire convoy to changed course once again. With trepidation, he looked upon the dark primeval woods they had skirted by only a short distance all this time. With stories of divines, actual bandits and wild beasts abound, Medalan forests always felt like an ancient evil slumbered somewhere within. This time, Fadelio was sure that it was more than mere superstition.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

194 Breaking the Siege

The cold winter air smelled like freedom. Dedrick and his men had been holed up in that stuffy castle for months now. In fact, they hadn't been allowed to do their thing ever since Corco had become a king, really. Even though their defense of Qarasi Castle had been quite relaxed and beating back that blowhard Pacha had been good fun, his mercenaries really weren't made for defensive combat or long sieges. They were wolves, not porcupines.

Finally, after months of patience, it was time for his men to attack. He had almost feared he would be stuck in the castle forever. Especially after some idiots under him had made that ridiculous solo-attempt on Corco's riches. Being the only smart guy in the group was always hard, but he hadn't expected Nahlen and Mason to lack this much sense. Even if he wanted to take Corco's money, Dedrick would have never done it in such an idiotic manner. Even if they had taken Saniya, how had they expected to ever get back home with the loot? Did they really think someone like Herak, known for his greedy and vengeful nature, would have just let them leave on his ships if they only groveled enough?

Well, it didn't matter any more. By now both Mason and Nahlen were dead, and Dedrick hadn't even needed to dirty his hands himself, so everything was good as far as he was concerned. Once he got his new orders to move out, even the last of his bad mood had been driven away. Finally, he had a chance to prove himself in combat, even if he didn't expect any serious opposition from Pacha's leftovers.

Not far in the distance was the encampment Pacha had launched all his previous attacks on Qarasi Castle from. Already, his men had firmly surrounded the walls on three sides. With how few men they had left, Dedrick didn't expect too long a fight. Still, at least along the south wall, the battle was fierce.

Pacha's army had built up their little encampment for several months; by now it had become a proper fort. The palisade walls were as high as four men and had gates in their centers and towers on their four corners. Atop the walkways behind the wall crenelations, the few warriors left behind by King Pacha ran back and forth to beat back Dedrick's men.

Although their cannons were great weapons for siege combat, the enemy was already prepared. The walls were thick enough to make a breakthrough with cannon fire a slow and expensive method of attack. The gate itself had even been cast out of iron. Since they were short on time, the southern army didn't really have a choice but to fight their way up the wall on ladders and hooks.

Even though they had a massive advantage in terms of firepower and the muskets at the bottom of the wall did their best to suppress the defenders, Pacha's warriors threw axes, boiling oil, hot water, sticks, stones and whatever they could find to cling on to their position.

As a result of the tenacious defenders, his men had bound the enemy troops, but they had also been forced into a long, drawn-out defense. At least Pacha had brought all of his firearms with him when he brought his army west. Dedrick had seen for himself just how effective those weapons were during a defensive siege.

*Let Corco deal with Pacha's muskets.*

With a smirk, the mercenary captain observed as his army battled on fiercely. He didn't really mind the losses they had suffered so far, since the front line attackers were made up of the warriors from the southern lords. Not only were they not his men, weakening the armies of the south would also make things easier for Corco down the line; a win-win.

Still, at this speed, they wouldn't break through the southern wall before nightfall, which had to be avoided at all cost. Since they needed to be fast if they wanted to support Corco's campaign in the east, they hadn't taken much time to prepare their attack on the encampment before they headed out. As a result, they had built no heavy siege equipment and hadn't even set up their own camp outside. They lacked supplies as well. While their fast attack had caught the defenders by surprise, it would make their offense especially short-lived.

Once his warriors tired and night fell, they would have to camp out in the freezing cold, always under threat of a counterattack from within the encampment. If the situation along every wall looked like it did in the south and they didn't manage to break through today, they would have to retreat all the way back to Qarasi Castle.

However, Dedrick wasn't worried. Once he made sure that the south was stable, he marched straight past the most intense struggle on the battlefield, towards the eastern entrance. Here, he found a similar image as before. Southern warriors had taken up ladders, ropes and chains and charged the walls under support of his musketeers.

Although desperate tug of war between defenders and attackers mirrored the one in the south, everyone seemed strangely subdued in their efforts. Shouts were less intense; most projectiles thrown from atop the walls failed to hit the warriors climbing the ladders, and harmlessly landed to the side instead. In short, they were acting.

When Dedrick saw the progress of battle, a grin spread on his face. This was the kind of battle he had been expecting, and this was the reason he had forced his men into this suicidal attack. Everything was going according to the prior agreement. By the time he reached the wall, his men had already 'pushed through' the resolve of the defenders and taken the eastern gate. Without any cohesion, the defenders pulled back to reorganize their formation. All opposition removed, Dedrick's mercenaries opened the gate for him to step through.

Inside he was immediately greeted by the man who had made their victory so much simpler, though he could only tell the man's identity from his friendly attitude. Really, for Dedrick, all of these Medalan nobles looked the same. However, while this one might have worn the same silk and silver as all the other nobles around these parts, there was a crafty twinkle in his eye like the one he would always see from the merchants he had worked for most of his life. Right from the start, Dedrick could tell they would get along.

"Lord Makipura, right?" With a big grin, he marched up to the portly lord. At first, he wanted to shake the man's hand, but when the guards behind the lord raised their weapons, he remembered that it was an unusual gesture in Medala. He took an awkward step back before he bowed lightly.

"You must be Official Dedrick di Pluritac," the lord smiled, unperturbed by Dedrick's awkwardness. "Welcome to this lord's personal estate."

"Yeah, thanks for having me. So how many of the people in this camp are yours?" Rather than waste time on nonsense, he got straight to the point. His men were still fighting in the west and south, and he wanted to call it a day early.

"Most of them. King Pachacutec's men occupy the southern gate and have a few more troops stationed in the west, but the rest of the camp is already in my hands. King Pachacutec only left behind enough men to keep an eye on me, as he was quite eager to catch your king."

"Now he's your king too," Dedrick smirked, which was mirrored by the lord.

"I suppose he is."

Dedrick nodded and turned to one of the mercenaries around him.

"Hey, tell the guys to get through the gate. Form up here and then take over the southern and western gates from the inside. West first, you're leading the charge. And tell the men who are still attacking the walls outside to let up on the attack for a bit. We're already in, so there's no more reason to lose men and powder for a distraction. Even if those stone-throwing bastards realize what happened to them now, there's nothing more they can do. I want the Narrows to be ours within an hour. And don't interrupt me while I talk with our guest of honor here."

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Yes, sire." Well-trained as all of his subordinates were, the man saluted and then rushed off to relay the orders. While Dedrick watched his troop movements, Lord Makipura brought himself back into the conversation.

"Really, I was quite surprised when I received the letter from King Corcopaca. I though it would be another threat from King Pachacutec instead." His voice sounded relieved.

"He prefers Corco, actually." Dedrick glanced to the man beside him. "He keeps scolding people who call him by his full name, or anyone who's too formal."

"Is that so? This lord thanks Official Dedrick for his advice."

The lord's deep bow, together with his strained tone, made it clear that he had a long way to go if he wanted to be as uncultured as his new king. Dedrick just waved Makipura's thanks away.

"Don't mention it. Plus, I'm not an 'official' anything. If you have to give me a title, like you people seem so eager to do, just call me commander or something."

"I will take it to heart."

For a while longer, they listened in silence as the sounds of battle ceased in the west. Now, only the southern wall stood strong.

"Honestly, it was a bit of a surprise when you agreed to our offer so quickly." Dedrick had only tried to make casual conversation, but for some reason, Makipura took it as an excuse to open up his heart.

"In fact, I was quite offended when I first read King Corco's letter. House Makipura does not raise turncoats, I thought. However, over the following days, the true extent of the damage done to my lands by King Pachacutec and his men became apparent. I have also seen the attitude of the king's men who remained here. Even though they were in the minority, they treated my lands like their own. Backed by a king's authority, they would take whatever they wanted and had no care for the honor of our estate. They would not even respect me, the nominal lord of the land, though I have done so much for their master over the past months."

"Uh-huh," Dedrick muttered to shorten the conversation, but somehow, the lord was still going.

"Even more, I predicted King Corco's victory a long time ago. You may not be aware of all the infighting within King Pachacutec's side, but I was present for all of it. They are stories of remarkable pettiness, vanity and greed. The repeated defeats of the central army also did much to convince me that it was time to switch sides. In the end, it was the king's disrespectful behavior towards his own lords that was the deciding factor."

"Must have sucked, huh?" Dedrick wanted to leave it at that, but decided to add a bit, lest the lord continue talking. "Well, if there's one thing Corco is good at, it's making his allies feel good about themselves, so you won't have to worry about disrespect, I don't think."

"So long as the king keeps to his promises, I will have no complaints. Remember, I will retain full autonomy of my estate, and be granted the exact same treatment his southern lords have received. I simply want to become another lord under administration of the southern kingdom, with all the rights entailed in the status. That includes access to the rumored new miracle fodder that made your grains grow like weeds. I also require some additional support on grain and finances to get my lands back in order after this war's devastation, and the king has to promise that he won't recruit any more of my commoners into his own territory. I will not let those mighty kings bleed off any more of my workforce."

"Done, done," an exacerbated Dedrick replied. Just like his new king, this guy was haggling like a merchant. They would make for a good pair in the future. "Really, don't worry about it. You will get everything you asked for once the war is over. It will only take a few more days anyways, so you won't have to wait for long."

"You better keep your word." All this time, the lord had appeared friendly and harmless. Yet from one moment to another, his voice took on a dark, threatening tone. "Even weakened, House Makipura is not to be trifled with. If King Corco fails to fulfill his commitments, we will go down in a blaze of glory and leave only ashes behind. If he dares cross me, your king will get nothing out of his deal."

"Sheesh, looks like Pacha's been pretty harsh on you, huh?" Dedrick smirked. He really didn't care what this lord thought about his new master. "I'll tell Corco to be extra serious... and he'll tell me about the benefit of harmonious long-term economic relations again."

Even though he was just unimpressed before, now the mercenary's face looked as if he had bitten into a lemon. "On second thought, you should tell him yourself. He's probably gonna host another fifty banquets and festivals this year, so there's plenty of chances for you to get lectured."

While they were talking, the sounds of battle all around the camp had died down bit by bit. By now, the entire encampment was purged of Pacha's troops. With this, Dedrick had part one of his orders done. Now, he just had to lead this army west and reinforce Corco's efforts on the front line.

However, just as he was about to excuse himself from the paranoid Lord Makipura to count up their casualties and plan their future route, one of his messengers marched towards him.

"Boss, I know we shouldn't interrupt..."

"Then why are you doing it?" He grinned in response to the shocked reaction from his messenger. "It's a joke. Lighten up. What do you have for me?"

"An emergency message came from the north."

A frowning Dedrick snatched the held-out letter and unfolded it. He was greeted by Corco's strange-looking characters. Although he didn't really understand what the point of these new symbols was, at least they didn't have to use a special code for military messages. No one besides their own people would be able to read the letters even if they were intercepted. Thus, he could read the words without any trouble, though the content didn't fill him with joy.

"Well, damn. Seems like we'll have to make a little detour before we join up with Corco."

"Where are we going, boss?"

"We're hunting for mountain giants!" he grinned as he ripped up the paper in his hands.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

195 Change of Hear

"Fools and cowards, one and all! What has Rupilo done to my army!?"

Pacha's day couldn't possibly have gone worse. About half a day after the battle between Corco and Rupilo had ended, they had arrived at the scene. By that point, both armies were long gone. At first, the king had wanted to pursue Corco and his tired-out men to force an engagement right away, but that turned out to not be an option. Not only was Pacha now aware that his army was slower in the snow than the southerners, the lords under him also continued to trip up his step.

Once they had set up a camp on the battlefield, he had been forced to give a proper burial to all the dead warriors left in the snow. The lords had insisted that their men would be cared for, but just finding a priest in the war-torn countryside had already been a nightmare. While they had been busied with the preparations for a mass funeral, a sheer endless string of warriors came out of the woodwork to rejoin their cause.

These were the scattered and defeated troops of Rupilo, trudging back to their masters like the beaten dogs they were. However, they were still nobles of Medala and many of them were servants of the lords around him, so he couldn't just throw them away, despite their incompetence.

At least they offered Pacha a more detailed picture of what had happened during the battle, though the new information did nothing to still his anger. As it turned out, his northern troops had attacked in a confused and disjointed manner, so Corco had needed less than an hour to wipe out the entirety of Rupilo's troops. With a quick win like that, Corco's men couldn't be considered tired but warmed up instead. It turned out that his forced decision to not rush after them was the correct one in the end.

After he had learned more about Corco's overwhelming victory and his novel tactics, he became even more careful than before. With all these additional troops so readily available, he decided to rest at the former battlefield and send out his men to pull together as many of the scattered warriors as he could. At the same time, he also sent out another runner to call back Herak. Since Corco had escaped towards the east, there was no more reason to split up and march west.

Although he didn't quite understand just why his nephew would give up his tactical advantage like that, Pacha wasn't foolish enough to believe that Corco didn't have a plan. He could feel that a big confrontation was upon them. The end of the war had drawn near, and he would be damned if he made another mistake like trusting Rupilo.

"It appears as if King Pachacutec has run into some difficulties during his campaign." As he was lost in thought, a familiar figure entered Pacha's command tent, surrounded by the king's guards.

"Official Mito, what a surprise. What made my uncle's closest aide leave the Ichilia mansion and come here to the middle of nowhere?"

Although Pacha despised his uncle Divitius Ichilia's petty inaction during the war so far, he was still his most solid ally, the only one he was related to through blood. Though he remained seated on his throne, the least he could do was overlook Mito's snide remark and pretend he was glad to see the servant. In turn, the servant did the same and put on a smarmy grin.

"Here is where the heavens have laid out our fates, so to say. King Pachacutec, your uncle is very worried about the state of the empire, and he is even more worried about his nephew. This servant has been sent to offer assistance in case King Pachacutec should require it."

"Yes, how very kind of you." Pacha narrowed his eyes. "My uncle would not just have sent you over to make sure I would ask for his help and be in his debt, would he?"

When his real intentions were revealed, the servant's face twitched only for a moment. Even though he restored his friendly facade right away, it was still enough for Pacha to confirm the truth.

"Although Lord Ichilia had no doubt that King Pachacutec can use his own power to be victorious against the incompetent southern barbarians, my master would be more than willing to offer additional support, should it be required. After all, King has already asked for help once before, and asking again would surely not make much of a difference."

"Right, is that how it is?" Pacha sneered. "Are you implying that the southerners are incompetent and thus should have been easy to defeat? Have you come to insult me on purpose?"

"Of course not. This servant misspoke." The flustered servant realized that he had stepped over the line with his comments. However, his half-hearted excuse wasn't nearly enough to pacify the king's heart.

"There is no reason to play any games here, the lords are not present and both of us know the truth. This king never asked his uncle to set up a blockade in the Narrow Sea. I only played along because I did not want my uncle to look like he ignored his king's commands - though he did - and because I believed that the blockade would be beneficial to my campaign. I have to say, as far as military operations go, the manner of my uncle's failure was quite impressive. All throughout history, it would be hard to find a blockade more useless and mismanaged than the one set up by House Ichilia. Are the incompetent foreigners who have made so much trouble for me the same that have sunk my uncle's ships and starved out his warriors?"

"It appears the king has not fared much better than Lord Ichilia." The servant's voice darkened, another sign of disrespect. "King Pacha, you should be obedient and ask for help when it is needed. The south has proven much stronger than anticipated, and our sides will need to work together if we wish to defeat them. However, House Ichilia does not stand to lose anything should King be defeated, so there is no reason for Master Ichilia to act. King should not try too hard to preserve his pride, or he will lose everything in the attempt."

As he thought about his precarious position, Pacha's hands tightened around his throne's armrests.

"Are you not done? Do you wish to continue your insult? You have had enough for one day, servant. Do you agree?" the king's voice was deep. "Maybe you have spent too much time in Huaylas and now you believe it to be the center of Medala. You did not believe you could continue to insult me without any consequences, did you? With your goading, you have taken far more liberties with your king than would be good for you, servant. Maybe it would be best if you left, before this king forgets his family relations to your master."

Rather than listen to reason, the servant only bounced from one foot to another, before he tried to offer more shallow platitudes.

"King Pachacutec, Lord Ichilia has sent this servant with a gift-"

"Leave it with the guards outside," the king interrupted. "I am not interested. I will have my servants call for you should I need you for anything. Pray that I do, because if I do not, you will have to return to Huaylas and explain to my uncle exactly why your negotiations failed."

"If King Pacha ever requires assistance from the great Lord Ichilia, we will be more than willing to support him." Although his face was pale, the servant still managed to say his proper goodbyes before he turned and left the tent.

For a while, Pacha looked at the busy scene out of his tent's entrance and thought about their precarious position. In truth, he would do well to ask his uncle for additional reinforcements. Outside, Pacha could see more and more clumps of warrior stragglers appear in the distant snow, as they walked towards his command tent. Although the return of the defeated warriors strengthened his army, it also proved just how easily Corco had won the last engagement and how poorly these warriors had handled the last war.

Even though there were conflicting reports from the returning warriors – all of whom aimed to paint their defeat in a better light – there had been no cleanup of the dead warriors at the end of the battle. Since the battlefield had been left in such a sloppy state, Pacha had a pretty good idea of Rupilo's actual casualties. It appeared as if the army hadn't even been decimated before it collapsed. They had lost less than two thousand men before they ran like cowards. This sort of inferiority couldn't be explained with only a disadvantage in equipment.

Although Corco's weapons were impressive, the key must have lain somewhere else, be it training, tactics or morale. In all three areas, Pacha was convinced he and his men could do much better than what Rupilo had achieved. Still, the heavy loss had cast a deep shadow over the entire campaign. Another defeat like the first one and Pacha might as well give up on being king altogether.

"Lord Pacha, should we send the next visitor?" his attendant interrupted the dreaded thought that had circled in Pacha's head for days.

"Another one? How many times will these lords come over here and try to flatter me with their plundered goods? What is the point when they only take them from my own people? Even more, when they keep all the best pieces for themselves?"

"No, this time, it is one of our runners with news from the east."

"Fine, bring him in," he frowned. Maybe this time, the news would be good for a change, though going by his recent track record in the war, Pacha didn't have much hope.

After a while, the king had received a letter from his spies in the east. His frown had only deepened after reading its contents. Corco's attendant had somehow smuggled an entire army into Lord Nasica's lands and was now on his way south. Even with all their experience, Pacha's fake bandits were not strong enough to stop them.

For a moment, Pacha thought it might be another fake from his sly nephew, but soon gave up on the idea. The information seemed secure enough. Even though he had lost a few of his runners over the past few days in scuffles with Corco's own, he was still in charge of the central kingdom and a move this large would be impossible for the enemy to fake.

In theory, this move-out should be good news to Pacha. The only reason Corco had invaded the north was because Pacha had his nephew's attendant trapped in his lands. Once the attendant managed to cross the southern border, the King of the Center would be stuck in front of that blasted Qarasi Castle again.

However, his warriors in the east would do everything to slow down the attendant, time enough to intercept them. If he turned east now, Corco would have no choice but to block his path to guarantee a smooth journey for his servant. Now that he knew about the enemy movements in the east, Pacha would finally have the big confrontation with his nephew he had always wanted. All he had to do was march east.

Yet as the great moment drew near he hesitated, very much unlike himself. He remembered the chaotic mess of bodies and limbs he had found all around the hill of Rupilo's defeat. He remembered the sight of his men's lives being harvested in front of Qarasi Castle.

More than anything however, he still felt the moment when his nephew had ruined his future. Unconsciously, his left hand cradled his right elbow, the one that wouldn't bend well ever since that day, and he felt the full cold of winter in his bones. However, he remembered something else, the moment he looked up through the pain and saw his nephew walk off with Pacha's hair in his hand. It was a shame he would have to make up for, even if it cost him everything.

Who cared if he had failed? Who cared if he would fail again? As his hands ran through the short hair on his head, he realized that honor didn't matter for him. Whatever honor he had possessed, he had lost back during the Nobles' Assembly. The only way to regain it would be by stepping forward without fear. Although the Ichilia servant had been a pain, he had been correct in one respect: Pride would only get in the way of victory.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

His spirit renewed, the king jumped out of his throne.

"Tell the men to get ready for march. As soon as Herak arrives, we head for the east, to teach the southerners the lesson they deserve."

"Yes, King Pachacutec," his attendant replied in a solemn tone.

Right before the king left his command tent, he looked back to his servant. "And get rid of the capes. We are at war, not in a parade."

"Yes, King Pachacutec." This time, the voice sounded much warmer, enough to combat the cold.

Determined to make up for his mistakes, Pacha rushed down the hill, his guards in tow. Soon enough, he reached the temporary tents his uncle's envoy's had erected close-by. When he burst inside, he saw several men in fancy silks sit around a small fire and talk in whispers. Chief among them was the nuisance from earlier. Thus, Pacha saw himself confronted by his uncle Ichilia's Official Mito once again.

"Official Mito, this king has changed his mind," he said, no shame on his face or in his heart. "Tell my uncle to send as many men as he can. We will need all the support we can get to beat back the southern warriors."

At first, the servants seemed panicked at the sudden intrusion, but soon, their leader's eyes and mouth turned into crescent moons.

"A wise decision, King." The smug servant barely bothered to hide the contempt in his voice.

"However, this king has no intention to cooperate with a lord who cannot educate his subordinates on proper conduct." Pacha smiled as he ignored the annoying Mito and turned to the other servants his uncle had sent. "Back when he presented Lord Ichilia's offer, Official Mito insulted this king, calling him incompetent and vain. If these are the best servants Lord Ichilia has to offer, then we do not need his support. We expect an answer on this issue, or we will fight the war alone."

While the king spoke, the servant's smugness faded into nothing. As a warrior of House Ichilia, he would know Pacha's uncle even better than Pacha himself did. Normally, a slap on Mito's wrist would be enough to satisfy the king's demand for an answer. However, Divitius Ichilia was a man who didn't do half-measures. The servant would be lucky if the rest of his family would be spared and only he would be dead. After all, what was a single servant's life compared to the grand plans of Divitius Ichilia?

"King Pachacutec, please show mercy," the servant whimpered, all his previous guts lost now that his big backer had been turned against him. However, the king had greater issues to worry about than a rude servant.

"Tell my uncle: Next time he sends me an envoy, it better be someone with manners."

With the last of his bad mood driven away, Pacha felt his old heroism return as he left the tent of the diplomats. He had a war to win, and no amount of greedy lords or petty servants would stand in his way.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

196 Guerilla Tactics

As soon as Fadelio's convoy entered the woods, everyone inside could feel the enemy's presence. The eerie silence of winter had formed the impression and the messy shadow of the twigs above their heads only intensified it. They had only taken a few steps inside and already their scouts managed to find several snares and even some nasty spike traps hidden under the winter snow. Despite all of their care, the enemy trappers only had to succeed once to create trouble.

"Aaaah!" A loud shriek of pain broke through the hibernating forest. One of the warrior guards stationed around the convoy had been careless. When Fadelio rushed over, the damage was already done, and the trap was revealed. A rope had been tripped, which had released a row of tensed, sharpened sticks of bamboo at shin-height. The weapon was as primitive as it was nasty. A sharpened bamboo stick had almost run the warrior's leg clean through, despite his super-human powers. Blood flowed freely from the stick's opening, like a macabre drinking fountain.

Annoyed, Fadelio watched as the men fumbled with the wound. Just as he arrived, they even removed the bamboo, which only caused further lacerations and more pained shrieks from the victim.

"What the hell are you doing! Out of my way." He roared and pushed the others out of the way. "Quiet down, I will take care of him. You, Naoka, get me our medical supplies."

After the warriors had stopped panicking and made some room for him, Fadelio kneeled down and inspected the horrific incision left by the bamboo. Then he turned to the still howling warrior.

"Get a grip man! Don't disgrace your ancestors!" he shouted in the injured warrior's pale face. Reminded of his status, at least the man managed to reduce his cries to a whimper. Although Fadelio's master would never approve of this kind of treatment, nothing was more sacred to a warrior than his honor. He had no time to care about the warrior's feeling either, since the commoners behind them were scared enough as was. They didn't need another reminder of the pain they could face anytime on their march through the forest. Now that the problem of morale was solved for the moment, Fadelio began to take care of the wound. Not a moment too early, Naoka came back with the medical supplies.

"Go tell the others. We're taking a break until I've finished the treatment," Fadelio said as he took the familiar tools.

Over the years, he had learned to deal with injuries just as well as Corco, which was to say: 'barely better than the average doctor'. Still, he somehow managed to slow the bleeding by applying pressure and sterilized the wound with some alcohol. Then he began the slow, bloody process of suturing the gaping wound. Though he somehow or other managed to save the man's leg - even though he might have some problems walking in the future - the entire operation took him over an hour.

He wasn't quite finished when the next problem was added to his pile of worries. From across their formation, he could hear another scream of pain, though at least it wasn't a desperate shriek this time.

"Ambush!" someone shouted in the distance. Fadelio's eyes darted back and forth between the indistinct movements in the distance and the half-sutured wound right before him. For now, the injury had stopped bleeding too badly, so it was no longer a high priority.

"Hold this and apply pressure, or you will lose too much blood." Before the injured warrior had pressed the piece of clean cloth against his leg, Fadelio was already up and away to deal with the next problem.

"Tell me what in the hell is going on!" he shouted as he pushed through a small crowd to reach the source of all the noise.

"Young master, we have been attacked by archers." His second-in-command was already on the scene. "There were three shooters. They wore white furs, so in the snow they managed to sneak close without our knowledge. They had already injured one of the guards in our periphery before we could spot them. Our men tried to pursue, but decided against it once the shooters retreated back into the forest."

"Good. Don't follow them. If we blindly give chase, they'll only take us down one by one. That's exactly what they want."

Fadelio ground his teeth as he looked at the injured warrior. Although his injury was a lot less severe than the punctured leg of the first one, treatment would add even more time to their stop. If this continued, they would never make it through the forest.

"Load the injured onto a wagon," he decided in the end. "We're taking them with us and I'll take care of them on the go. We need to get moving if we don't want to be easy targets."

Once his mind was set, the convoy began to make progress again. Even so, each step felt like they got stuck deeper and deeper in a mire. Over the following hours, they became victims of repeated attacks. Although they lost no lives, the number of injured kept increasing more and more, never giving the commander any time to rest between treatments. At this point, they were almost out of not only medical supplies, but also space on the wagons.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

First, Fadelio had asked to dump some of their extraneous supplies to make room for his warriors. The craftsmen had brought a lot of expensive goods to start their new life in Saniya, and Lord Nasica had sent them off with even more useless luxuries so his warriors would travel in comfort. All that stuff had to go.

Unlike the warriors, who were used to hardship, the craftsmen had protested in loud voices. They had calmed down as soon as Fadelio had split a log with his axe and promised them compensation once they reached Saniya. They didn't look convinced by his offer, but could only obey in the face of Fadelio's superior military power.

Not long after all the wagons had been emptied of the useless supplies, they were forced to have the children and elderly get off and walk to make room for the ever-increasing ranks of injured. At this point, even some commoners had been wounded by hidden traps, though the ambushes still hadn't come close to their convoy. By the time night fell, they had only made it a third of the way through the forest, far less than they had anticipated.

When they set up camp, they erected giant fires and put up strict guard posts to protect their position. Even though they managed to prevent a night ambush by staying vigilant, they still weren't free from the enemy's harassment. Hidden in the darkness, the bandits marched around their camp and beat their drums all throughout the night.

While the warriors had gone through military drills and managed to get at least some sleep, most commoners didn't get a wink. By morning, they were already at the end of their rope. As Fadelio got up to get their trek ready for the day, he was approached by a familiar face.

Rimaq the paper making master was one of the first people he had recruited for the trek when he had first reached Arguna. Over the course of their journey, he had become something of a representative for the craftsmen in the convoy. As a result, they had become well-acquainted during their time in Rumas. However, when Fadelio saw him again after only a few days of travel, he almost didn't recognize him. With dark bags under his eyes, a haggard physique and slumped shoulders, the paper maker looked like he already had one leg in the grave.

"Master Rimaq, what do you need?" he asked as he forced a confident smile.

"Lord Fadelio... how are you this morning?" More than only tired, the paper maker also looked cramped. It was clear that he had some unpleasant issues to talk about.

"What's on your mind? We can speak freely."

"Maybe this entire migration was not the best idea," the paper maker mumbled and lowered his head.

"What do you mean?" Fadelio frowned.

"...I am sorry, I truly am. However, we cannot go on any longer," Rimaq said with tears in his eyes.

"Cannot go on? What do you mean? We're almost there."

"...the women and children are tired. To be frank, I am tired as well. We appreciate all Lord has done for us, but if we have to go on much further, I am afraid every one of us will just die here. Since the others have chosen me as their leader, that is not something I can let happen."

"So? What do you expect me to do?" Fadelio's voice had gotten sterner, as had his face. He considered the commoners ungrateful for his effort, and for his master's considerations.

"Maybe, we could-"

"We can't turn around and go back. You should know that. All that awaits my warriors on the road back is a swift death." Fadelio brusquely cut off the paper maker's plea. "So, since that's not possible, what do you expect us to do? Leave you behind and hope everything will end well for you? Once these bandits get their hands on you guys, they will kill every last one of you, just to set an example, or to gain the favor of their king."

"However, at least there would be hope. Our current path will only get us killed as well. Please understand. We are no mighty warriors. We have our limits."

When the paper maker tried to get on his knees and beg for their freedom, Fadelio's stern facade faded. With a sigh, he helped up the craftsman.

"Everyone has limits. Don't you hear the screams at night? Most of those are from my warriors, or Nasica's warriors. We're all in this together."

"...you have done so much for us, and we are deeply grateful, but we can no longer hold out. Maybe if we could surrender now, there is still a chance-"

"Now?" Fadelio got annoyed again, and just as he had felt sorry for the commoners. Really, these people had no backbone. "After all we have done, all we have sacrificed? No, I won't allow it. Not ever. I can double the rewards I previously promised for when we make it to Saniya, so tell your people to hang on. Just one more day and we will make it through the forest! The rest will be easy!"

"I understand, lord. But-"

"No, you don't understand! King Pachacutec has started a war so some craftsmen won't join King Corco's lands. Those craftsmen, that's you guys. That means, officially, you are traitors to the central kingdom. Even if you surrender, do you think he would let you off after all of this? How many of his men died in the conflict so far? How much of your blood would be enough to pacify that king? You know about King Pacha's reputation, don't you?"

Rimaq's face managed to lose even more of its color. Of course he would be aware of Pacha's reputation. Ever since the ghosts had spread those rumors during the succession war, everyone was. Strong, ambitious, cruel, vain and heartless, those words were used to describe the king in rumors on the streets. It didn't help that he had allegedly killed his own father. Behind everyone's back, Tama had even spread some rumors about Pacha having an unethical relationship with his own mother.

Now that Rimaq was aware of his own predicament, Fadelio calmed down again. Although it was the easiest method, forcing these people into compliance wasn't the best method. They were an important puzzle piece for Saniya's future, so he would have to keep them at least content and refrain from kidnapping them. With a sigh, he put a hand on Rimaq's shoulder.

"I understand your worry, but in our situation, we can't do a lot to help your people out. Tell you what, we've still got some wine left for the warriors, and some leftovers of the good food. Tonight will be our last night in the forest, so let's use up our remaining supplies and have a celebration. We'll party away all of our worries, and then tomorrow, we'll get through the final stretch with renewed power."

__________________________

On Fadelio's order, the women of the craftsmen took the last good food they were left with - together with all the wine meant for him and the warriors - to prepare a feast. At the same time, the men collected enough firewood for a giant bonfire. As soon as noon turned to evening, the warriors began to enjoy themselves to song and drink. All throughout the night, the warriors would sing songs and use whatever they could find as musical instruments. At first, the commoners were still inhibited, but soon they were infected by the atmosphere and the wine and joined in. The merriment drove away the night and drowned out the noises from their attackers, while scouts all around their camp kept the bandits at bay.

The next morning, most commoners were either still asleep from the wine, or so hung over that they couldn't complain any more. Meanwhile, on Fadelio's order, the warriors had held back and were still fine. Now that all the remaining carts had been emptied of the last food and drink, the corpse-like commoners were loaded up and the warriors made their way through the forest once again.

Of course, none of this was accidental. This had been Fadelio's plan: Get the commoners to shut up for long enough to force a speedy march through the forest. At the same time, they dropped everything but their weapons and armor, so they could move much quicker. With their burdens stilled and no more reason to conserve energy, they managed to speed up once again.

Yet as soon as they continued their march, they were once again attacked by a constant trickle of arrows from within the dreary trees. As the day went on, more and more of their men suffered under the arrows and traps.

In return, Fadelio sent out smaller groups of ten warriors each to rush after the enemies and drive them away. Although they could get ambushed in the process, it was a risk Fadelio would have to take, and a calculated one. In the end, they were still professional warriors. Ten of them were more than enough to preserve their own lives even against superior numbers. After all, even with all the sneak attacks, their trip would have never been a problem had they not been burdened with the commoners. Now on their own, they would fare much better.

By noon, Fadelio had sent three groups of warriors to hold off and busy the enemy bandits. They had to get proactive, so he sent out more and more to shoo the attackers far away from their main group and ensure a faster march.

For a while, it appeared as if Fadelio's bold all-or-nothing plan was a success. They had managed to drive off the bandits for a while, and the commoners were pacified. But of course, Fadelio knew that his strategy was only buying them a bit of time. Now that they were out of food, the warriors would soon run on empty. At the same time, the commoners would also sober up again sooner or later, hungover, hungry and in a worse mood than ever. Worse yet, they were quickly running out of warriors to drive off the bandits.

When Fadelio broke through the dense shrubbery into an opening, he first thought that they had made it through the forest. However, once he got used to the naked sun on his face, he realized that they had only reached a clearing, and that there was more forest left to go.

Worse yet, the clearing smelled of danger. Right away he realized that the surroundings were too quiet. As they pushed the bandits farther and farther away from them, the sparse sounds of winter had slowly replaced the eerie quiet from before. Now they were gone again. Once more, he felt like he had two days ago, back when they had first entered the forest. With a frown, he realized that this clearing was at the bottom of a basin. With their reduced numbers, this would be the perfect place to surround them and wipe them out should the bandits decide to group up.

They still had around forty warriors with them, but if the bandits brought all of their men together, they would have to fight for their lives. As he considered turning and circling the clearing, the crunching sounds of snow mixed with the sounds of clattering and murmurs approached them from the front. His telescope reinforced his worst fears. In between the trees, he could see dark shadows move back and forth in a rhythmic motion. These shadows were moving in formation, and made no attempt to hide it. Were Pacha's bandits truly so bold? Didn't they care that no one would believe an army of warriors being wiped out by bandits? Had Pacha truly forsaken the last of his honor?

"Enemies from the front! Defensive positions!" he shouted. After they sent a flare in the air to inform their remaining men in the forest to return to the main formation, all remaining warriors formed a tight semi-circle around the carts overloaded with passed-out or headached commoners. The noise woke some of them, but they didn't even have time to complain. They were pressured by the serious, determined atmosphere of the warriors and soon sank back into the imagined safety of the carts.

Despite their disadvantageous position, Fadelio was glad they had forced a frontal engagement out of the bandits. After all, they were not only superior in terms of equipment, they also had the right personnel for a proper fight. This was what the warriors lived for after all. All the constant sneak attacks and traps had eaten away at their morale. They were much more at home in the thick of battle, and much better at it as well.

As he prepared a little speech to lift the spirits of his men, he could see the shaky, tired expressions lift from the faces of his warriors. The anticipation of a proper war returned, and with it the hope for honor and strength every good warrior would live for.

Fadelio was sure: Even if they didn't win, they would be able to sell their hides for a hefty price and make Pacha's hidden elite bleed. Yet when he finally saw the enemies, all tension fell off him.

"Ahoy there, mountain giant. Heard you need some help?" the casual voice cut through the tense atmosphere and drained the last of Fadelio's strength. Exhausted in body and spirit, he sat down right in the snow, and many of his men followed his example. Before them, an army made up of Medalan warriors and foreign mercenaries broke through the treeline. And in their front stood Dedrick, commander of the wolf mercenaries, with a wide grin on his face. Their reinforcements had arrived not one moment too soon. Now the handful of bandits were nothing more than a triviality. For the rest of their journey south, they weren't attacked even once.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

197 Making the Rounds

Even from a distance, Corco could hear the groans of pain, which were soon complemented by the image inside the medical tent. While he had been busy organizing the main camp during their rest period, the doctors and their assigned assistants had already set up a series of tents to better care for the injured.

As he entered, the sounds of agony grew louder, and the smell of alcohol, blood and bitter bile hung in the air. Inside, there were several bunks, improvised from straw and loose wood from the nearby village, and atop them lay all the wounded from his encounter with Rupilo. Although the battle had been an overwhelming success, there was no such thing as a flawless victory in the real world. These were the victims of his orders, at least the ones who had survived the encounter.

With a sigh, Corco stared at all those who had suffered under his command. Soon however, one of the men who rushed from bed to bed came towards him and interrupted his thoughts.

"King Corco," he spoke in Chutwa. No wonder, since this man was Doctor Itzali, the physician Corco had picked up back in Hueatlan.

"What brings you here?" the doctor asked while he wiped the blood off his hands with a dirty cloth.

"I'm looking after my people." The king frowned as he stared down at the cloth in Itzali's hand, white covered in dirty brown spots from all the dried blood. It seemed like the doctor had used the cloth quite a bit over the course of the day. "Didn't I tell you to always use fresh supplies for each new patient?"

Itzali sighed in response. "Indeed you have, but how are we to do so? We lack in supplies, in almost every regard. Not enough cloth, or gauze. We are heating and reusing needles. We have run out of catgut, so we are using cooked twine for the shallower wounds instead. We are also lacking various herbs to brew concoctions, most of all ginseng. To be honest, if there is another battle, we will not be able to treat most of the injured."

"Sounds like it's my fault then, huh?" Corco mumbled as he looked at all the suffering around him.

"No, this master would never imply such a thing," the doctor was quick to deny.

"You're right though. Honestly, this entire operation was put together sloppily. You and the other doctors stayed in Saniya for only a few days. You barely had time to get over your sea sickness when I already ordered the moveout. We already didn't have time to collect enough supplies, and we had to leave some more behind when I chose to evade Pacha's army through mobility. Still, now that we're here I can scrounge up what we left behind before, so hang in there for a bit longer."

"I could not ask for more." With a forced smile, the doctor accepted the limitations of their situation. In truth, none of it was Corco's fault either, they had been forced by the circumstances. He had to attack since Fadelio and the craftsmen were trapped in a dire situation, and he had to do it fast or the Narrow Sea would have been blocked.

"So how are you doing here, apart from the supplies? Give me an update."

"King Corco, besides the earlier deaths, so far only two more men lost their lives. There are another seventy-one injured here, around ten of them are in critical condition and another eight may lose a limb and become cripples. Overall, the new techniques King Corco has taught on our way here have proven astonishing treasures. Together with some of our own great Chutwa medicinal techniques, we have managed to save far more lives than I ever thought possible. If we had the chance to learn more before we were forced to participate in the battle, we could have done much more."

Although Corco noticed the obvious stab at his hasty deployment, he wouldn't scold the doctor over it. They weren't his subjects, just temporary hires. There was no reason to enforce superficial loyalty and make them angry, and the doctor wasn't wrong either.

"Yeah, I get it. You'll get your chance to learn some theory and practice as soon as we're back in Saniya. Then, I'll teach you whatever I can, and you can impart your own wisdom on my people."

"This master will relish the chance. In truth, it is a surprise that master would allow us to learn these godly techniques without any cost attached."

"Knowledge isn't worth much if only one guy has it." Corco sighed. "Even if I was smart enough to turn every theory in my head into reality, I would never have enough time for everything. The best role for me is as a teacher, imparting my knowledge onto those who can make better use of it. That's what I'll be expecting of you."

"Of course. Further, the battle has not only brought us disadvantages. In fact, war is a fantastic chance to get more patients to practice our medical skills on."

For just a moment, even Corco was speechless.

"Okay, it seems like I'll have to teach you about the Hippocratic oath first once this war is over. Speaking of which, I'll go talk to the patients for a bit. You go do doctor things."

Against the master's insistence that the king stay away from such a dirty place with bad qi, Corco spent the next hour going through the medical tents and talking to every soldier in person. Although their stories were often dull and a lot of them couldn't form any coherent sentences in the presence of their king, he still patiently listened to and talked with everyone. He had left Tama in charge of the rest of the camp for the day, so he had plenty of time.

Still, there were some things, he had to – or wanted to – do himself, so he said his goodbyes to Doctor Itzali and left the bloodied tents behind. Just as he was about to leave, a group of warriors carrying a heavy pot came towards him. The spicy smell from the steaming pot overwhelmed the iron stench in the air and lifted Corco's spirits.

"King Corcopaca," the men put down the pot to salute.

"At ease," Corco said lazily as he approached and looked at the pot's contents. Inside, there was a steaming, dark red liquid, with precious herbs from the west floating inside. "You're bringing mulled wine to the patients?"

"Yes, King."

At the succinct answer, Corco turned to the at-attention-standing warriors.

"...you know that they're recovering from injury, right? They shouldn't be drinking poison, no matter how nice it might feel."

The warriors shared awkward glances for a bit, before one of them took a heart to face their master.

"King Corcopaca, Lady Tamaya has tasked us with serving the wine to the injured, to raise their morale. However, if King disagrees with the order, this servant will turn back right away."

While he listened, Corco picked up a cup from the other warrior and waited for the first one to ladle some mulled wine into it.

"Thanks," he said and slurped the hot drink. The cold hadn't been that bad over the past few days, but the wine still warmed his core and its taste had always been a guilty pleasure for him.

"Well, if Tama said so it's probably fine. Morale is important after all. Just don't give them more than a cup, they're all still recuperating. And be careful about the ones with heavier injuries. Ask the doctors in cases you're not sure, and use your best judgment for all the others. Also, get me another cup."

"King Corco is finished?" One warrior asked cautiously, his eyes on Corco's cup which was still almost full.

"Don't be stupid." The warrior's flinched back even at Corco's joking tone. "No, I'm not an alcoholic... I think. The second one is a present for my next visit."

After Corco had thanked the warriors for the second cup, he didn't bother them any more and proceeded towards the run-down village not far from their camp. They had camped their tired troops on the edge of this abandoned little fishing village for a good reason. This was the place where they had hidden all the supplies they couldn't bring with them on their march west. Although he hadn't been convinced by the choice of location at first, they had remained undiscovered.

The village was far enough off the beaten path to not be an obvious destination, and it was still close enough to be convenient. At the same time, it was hidden from view from the open sea, yet still close by the coast. Like this, they wouldn't be spotted by scouting ships from Arnao's blockade fleet either. This place had turned out to be a surprisingly good find, and Corco was about to visit the one who had uncovered this prefect hiding spot.

Within this tiny fishing village in the southeast of the Sinchay coast, Princess Sumaci had been hiding out together with her crew. While the girl's ships had been stowed away safely in the little inland river and covered with dry reeds and snow, the young captain herself – together with her crew – spent most of their time inside the abandoned buildings to make sure they could make contact with Corco's army at any time.

"Hey there, great captain! I bring good tidings, and presents!"

Grinning as if he hadn't just seen the horrors of war, Corco burst into the run-down shack made of wood and bamboo. The inside consisted of a single room, almost entirely empty. Apart from an empty, splintered bed frame, there was only a large a fireplace in its center, which warmed a pile of blankets and furs in its front.

"Hey, captain? Your great teacher is here," Corco shouted into the empty room as he traipsed towards the fireplace. His confusion was cleared up when the mountain of blankets began to move and soon revealed a human face. If the other sailors hadn't informed the king on his way here that their captain was hiding out in this house, he might have just left before he would have found her here.

"You've been having a nice vacation?" the king asked while he held out his second cup of mulled wine.

"Is this your great home, oh king? This place is a frozen hell." Sumaci complained as if she had suffered a great betrayal, but still reached for the steaming wine.

"Yes, I can see your fashion sense is already influenced by our forefathers. Like those great people of the past, you have made full use of furs and cloth, yet you still managed to wear those fifty layers with real dignity. Truly, an icon of our time."

Before the girl could taste the wine, her lips pursed in annoyance, before she shivered and disappeared back into her blanket pile.

"Why don't you go dive head first into the frozen pond outside, great teacher?"

"I'd love to, but I'm a bit busy right now." Although her attitude was unacceptably rude towards a king, Corco didn't really mind. He had left his guards outside, so there was no one to listen in and thus no reason to punish her. "Unlike you, who gets to play tourist and experience the wonders of Medala, I have a war to win."

"So you're here for your weapons." Her dim voice came from within the covers.

"Among other things." Corco nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "We've had a big battle, and we'll have to restock. We might need the rest of the gunpowder pretty soon, and we will need the rest of the medical supplies right now. Some of the building equipment wouldn't be bad either, this next battle will probably turn out to be a defensive one."

After a long slurp came from within the covers, Sumaci asked a blatantly obvious question.

"You've fought? And you will fight again?"

Rather than the outcome of their battle, Sumaci seemed more concerned with the fact that they had fought at all. Corco understood her well, and tried to sigh away his own concern.

"I'd love to avoid any more battles, but we don't have much of a choice. Fadelio – my attendant – has been trying to get the craftsmen across the border, but his progress has been a lot slower than we thought. Also, we're already on the wrong side of Pacha's forces, since I wanted to avoid a long war. I'm not sure our spies can prevent our enemies from learning of Fadelio's movements in the east any longer. We've tried our best to interrupt his intelligence work, but this is the north after all. My uncle has a well-established network here, and he should already know about Fadelio's move south. If I were him, I'd head straight east to prevent them from crossing to the border. That's what the entire war boils down to after all. Pacha should have realized that he can't break Qarasi Castle. The only reason he stayed in the war was because he had my attendant and some warriors trapped in his territory. If we get them south, he has no more cards left in his hand and it's our win."

"You'll have to hold off the northerners."

"Yeah."

"More deaths."

"Yeah."

For a moment, the two shared in the silence, until it was broken by more of Sumaci's slurping sounds. From one moment to the next, Corco's shoulders lost all tension.

"I'm quite confident though," he said to lighten the mood. "Our men still lack experience and discipline, but we did well in the last battle, and that was us attacking up a hill. The next battle will be a defense, preferably on top of a mountain. So long as our scouts can find a good, defensible position, everything should be fine."

Of course, he wouldn't mention that Pacha would have at least twice the number of troops Rupilo had, or that the enemy's next commander wouldn't be as incompetent as the last one. Still, even though she should have somewhat been aware of the danger, Sumaci mumbled, "good luck," and left it at that.

The atmosphere had gotten a bit peculiar, so Corco decided to change the topic.

"Sooo... how about you come along?"

"What do you mean?" Again, her head appeared from beneath her blanket fort, a curious expression on her face.

"Well, I can't really have my student dying," Corco grinned. "You've already risked quite a bit by hiding out here behind enemy lines. If anything happens to you, I'll have to answer to your brother too, and your father. I wouldn't want to sour our alliance after less than a month."

"I was not expecting the mighty king to care for his students." Sumaci's voice sounded a lot less enthusiastic than before.

"Yeah, well... you're welcome I guess." Corco thought for a moment, before he clapped his hands to drive away the weird mood. "Okay, you should get yourself ready. We're moving as soon as we're resupplied. We need to set up a nice surprise for Pacha after all. Building a wall might take us a while."

"No."

Corco had already turned around and was halfway through the door when Sumaci's rejection forced him back towards the fire.

"Excuse me?" he asked to make sure he hadn't misheard.

"Thank you for your concerns, great teacher. But no, I will not come with you. Right this moment, my brother is not here, which makes me the captain of this fleet. I am responsible for my father's men and I will not leave them behind."

Even though the claim to authority seemed a bit ridiculous from a shivering girl buried under blankets, her voice was too firm for Corco to joke around.

"The sailors are coming too, obviously," he clarified instead.

"Then what about the ships?"

"We can't exactly carry those on our shoulders, so I'm afraid that's not an option."

"Exactly. How will I explain myself to my father if I lose half the fleet assigned to Saniya? I am the captain, and I am responsible for these ships and their well-being. Now that you have come to resupply, we will have to move and look for a different hide-out as well, or our ships will be found and sunk or stolen. With all this blasted snow around, your men will be very easy to track all the way here."

Corco first pushed down a joke about weak-willed northerners, before he nodded in response.

"Fine, I guess that's something I didn't consider. There's bound to be a much better hideout somewhere east, closer to Qarasi Castle. With the castle's support, you'll be safer there. We won't need any more assistance until the end of the war either, so it's fine for you to move that far away... but be sure to fly my banner or the castle's cannons might just blast you out of the water. Not fun for anyone."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"I will take it to heart."

Another uncomfortable pause ensued, while both of them sipped their wine. At last, Corco remembered that he still had more to do for today, and it was even something he had been looking forward to all day. How could such a fun meeting ever have slipped his mind?

"Anyways, you stay in your little blanket fort for now, I'll have to meet up with my newest guest."

"Of course, I will no longer keep you," the dignified princess said, before she retreated back into her hideout like a turtle.

"And good luck," she mumbled from within.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

198 Revenge

After his conversation with Sumaci, Corco returned back into the blinding winter sunlight. Although the weather had been getting warmer these days, it still wasn't enough to melt the snow cover, so he had to push through an ankle-deep mass of the stuff to reach his goal. At least the guards he had left outside of Sumaci's shack joined him again and forged a path for their master, so he soon reached an area within the village surrounded by warriors. Since their arrival, all their prisoners had been placed somewhere in here here. After all, these prisoners of war were quite valuable and the position was easier to defend than the camp outside.

According to Medala's usual rules of war, every warrior would have to be bought back by his estate for a hefty sum. If his uncle were to play by the rules for once and all the warriors were exchanged for silver, it would be a nice little boost for Saniya's economy. Even if they had covered the worst of their financial demands for now, one could never have enough money. While the ransom from the warriors alone would be a massive gain, they had even managed to catch two of the retreating lords. By themselves, just these two would bring enough income to rival all the warriors combined.

Fulcinius had been leading his men on the forefront of battle when Rupilo's right flank collapsed, so it was no wonder he had been caught. Together with his warriors, he was held in a group of tents in the middle of this building group. Wedged in between the shacks, they were easier to monitor and keep inside.

Although they were hardly luxurious, the tents of the prisoners weren't too shabby. They were built of thick cloth and were each equipped with thick quilts and braziers. Since they were valuable assets, their accommodations would at least guarantee their basic needs. However, while Lord Fulcinius had been stationed with his warriors, the second lord they had caught received special treatment, Corco had made sure of that. Thus, the king stepped into a small but solid hut some ways away from the tents of the prisoners. The warriors stationed all around the walls betrayed the importance of the guest. It was a fitting environment for Rupilo, the commander of Pacha's southern army.

Lord Rupilo had been tracked and found by his ghosts half a day after the end of the battle. Once they had reached the village, Corco had made sure to place him in this little hut, a luxury not even most of the king's own men could enjoy.

"Hello, Lord Rupilo. How do you like your accommodations so far?" Corco put on a business smile as soon as he entered.

"It is... adequate." Confused, the lord looked at his clean, private room, at the smoke rising from the mulled wine he had just received from his guards and at the warm bed with a feather blanket. The room had a small table and chair to eat on and even a few books to pass the time.

"Even though you, King Corcopaca, acted quite tough before our battle, it seems you still understand the power and influence of King Pachacutec. Dwelling on old grudges will only cloud your vision and bring you nothing but trouble. Compromise in how you treat the lords of Medala is truly wise. After all, you will always be judged by how you treat your foes, rather than by how you treat your friends."

For a bit, Corco blank-stared the self-righteous lord trying to teach governance, before he broke out into uproarious laughter. Rupilo got more and more confused as Corco moved forward. As the king came closer, his prisoner backed off and scooched over on his bed to restore the distance. Once he ran out of bed to retreat to, he got up and stepped behind his table to get something between him and the southern king. While the lord stood in the corner of the room with an awkward look on his face, Corco took his previous position on the bed as his laugh fizzled out.

"Is that how you justified the nice treatment in your head? That's creative. Would it help if I told you that Fulcinius isn't treated nearly as well as you are? In fact, he has been stuffed into a tent with his warriors."

"In that case, this lord assumes King Corcopaca would have a special demand of this lord?"

"That's a bingo." Corco grinned. In response, Rupilo's face scrunched up as he tried to fathom either Corco's plans or strange choice of words.

"Then what is it King Corcopaca wants? This lord is already under your control! Do you intend to shame me for the rest of my life? Give me hope to take it away? Or take your time with torture? House Rupilo will not forgive you, and neither will the other lords of Sinchya! King Corcopaca, you might be the winner of our battle, and as the winner you may kill me! However, you will alienate the lords and will never make them follow you, not even the barbarians in the south. Even if you believe yourself to stand above the lords of Medala, the truth is that the kings are only the first among equals. You do not stand a chance against the combined might of Medala's nobility. Not even your father could stand against the lords, and you are not your father."

All throughout Rupilo's rambling, Corco held his smile, while he observed the lord squirm behind his safety table. This guy was really coming up with all kinds of stories to save his hide, he even somehow managed to call all the lords of Medala to his defense. However, Corco wasn't willing to play along with his political games. He would have his revenge on the coward, and there would be no negative consequences for his actions either. He had already planned out how it would go, but doing things slowly was much more fun. For a while, he just looked at the lord while he relished the panic he saw in his eyes.

"What then!?" Rupilo shouted with a cracked voice. As the lord became more and more erratic, Corco's guards stepped between them. "If you wish to kill me, do it, you coward!"

"I'll tell you why you're treated this well," Corco said. "Unlike Fulcinius, I still need something from you. So, I'll treat you in a manner any lord of Medala deserves. In return, your family will pay a reasonable ransom and, before you are freed, you will sign this document."

Corco pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the table between the two men.

"It's nothing sinister," he stated, as Rupilo began to read the contract critically. "It's simple, really. Just gives people from my estate permission to do trade within your territory free from tariffs or interference."

"This is..." To Rupilo, the offer must have seemed too good to be true, and it was reflected in the blank stare on his face. Even though the lord had some reservations towards Corco, he should know that the lords in the north had been competing for a chance to receive Saniya's new wares like soap and clear glass. Many of them were exclusive luxury products which had spread among Medala's high society ever since Corco introduced them during the succession war. Whoever could supply them first had an easy way to expand his influence among the lords of the north.

"Is that all?" Rupilo asked with a stare as empty as his head.

"You're right, torture wouldn't do me any good, and neither would killing you. So I came up with this as an alternate solution. This way, I get a nice foothold in Pacha's land. He can't do anything about it since it's your land and you don't directly profit from the trade since you don't get to raise any tariffs. I would've asked Fulcinius, but his land is too far south. I need something in Pacha's heartland, and something closer to the capital."

Of course, there were many other benefits besides tariffs Rupilo could gain from this sort of deal. Without a further word, the lord pulled a seal from his sleeve and stamped the document with his family sigil. In his haste, he smeared ink all over the paper, no doubt afraid that Corco would go back on the amazing offer.

"Good, good." The king rubbed his hands and pulled the piece of paper back into the safety of his robes. "Now that that's done, I'll send a letter to your family and ask them for your ransom. I think a stone of silver should be plenty. What do you think?"

"A stone? Is that truly enough? Such an amount would barely be enough to ransom a warrior, let alone a lord." Rupilo looked confused at first, but then his eyes widened. Corco grinned as he watched the lord's face slowly go pale in realization.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Yeah, that's the plan," he said and sat back down on the bed.

"Plan?"

"As I've said before: I'll have my revenge. But don't worry, I won't kill you. That's much too easy for you." Corco shook his head.

"Then what? Torture?" This time, the lord sounded defiant. Maybe he thought Corco was bluffing, now that they had entered into a trade relationship. The king however remained confident.

"No, nothing so simple. Here's what I'll do: I will let you go." The king spread his arms at the grand revelation.

"I do not understand."

"Then I'll explain it in more detail, for the slow people. I love doing that. So, this is your itinerary for the near future: I will have to hold you here for a while, since you are a prisoner of war. I will treat you like my guest of honor, bring you good food and wine. I'll even have some of my servants come visit you as much as possible, all within view of the other prisoners. I'll keep doing that until your family buys your freedom for a pittance, and then one of my officials will open a merchant's shop right in your capital, to your benefit. What do you think the vengeful, paranoid Pacha will think about that? What about all the other lords? Will anyone be willing to cooperate with you again? After all, you have clearly switched sides yet again and are now working for the southern king after only a few days in captivity. What will it do to your reputation, your legacy, your connections?"

As Corco had been talking, all color drained from Rupilo's face, until it took on the same hue as the snow outside the door. This was far worse than a simple death.

"You... you cannot do that! I will be shunned by the community of lords! No one would believe a word I say! It would ruin my house!" Now that he was forced into a corner, even the cowardly Rupilo had found his courage. He tried to charge at Corco to regain and destroy the contract, but both his table and Corco's guards were in the way. Though even without them, the weak lord wouldn't have been able to do much.

"That's the idea. You can always go back on our deal, but then you'd be an oath breaker on top of everything else." Corco stood up and turned to the door. "You see, I don't need to torture you to ruin your life. I'll just use your own poor reputation to destroy you, just like a coward would deserve. Goodbye Lord Rupilo, may we never meet again."

Once Corco had taken care of Rupilo, he returned to the command center of the army's temporary camp outside the village. For the rest of the day, he oversaw the resupply of his troops, before he left for the east on the following morning. Since the injured soldiers would slow them down, they left them behind, as well as half the Chutwa doctors to take care of them.

Of course, they wouldn't be abandoned. Instead, they would leave together with Sumaci's fleet once Corco's troops had moved on. Although the king wanted to guarantee the safety of all his people, he was limited by his abilities and needed to focus on the issues at hand.

On the morning of their departure, Corco and his officer's staff put together all the topographical information their scouts had collected and picked the best place to make a stand and halt Pacha's advance. Soon, a suitable position was found and Corco's troops were on their way to set up their defenses.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

199 Final Preparations

Corco had never noticed just how loud snow could be. The snow beneath his feet crunched and joined the noise of all other steps around him, as well as those of the construction work. Atop this little hill, his warriors busily moved snow from one place to another, compressed it and gave it shape. From Sumaci's fleet in the hidden village, they had picked up various durable saws, hammers and shovels built for use in the field.

Although the training regimen devised for Corco's new breed of soldier had a heavy focus on discipline as well as physical strength and endurance, he had also made sure to include lessons on the correct use of various tools. Out in the field, the ability to construct all kinds fortifications in a haste could often make the difference between life and death. This was even more the case since the southern army had more modern weapons and thus an advantage in ranged combat. Although Corco's soldiers could hardly be considered engineers, at least they would know how to construct a proper wall, which was what he was looking at this very moment.

After some searching, the scouts had found an easily defensible position close to the Narrows, right in Pacha's path. Here, they had deep woods on either side of their position, while the only way to the east was a steep incline, at least as steep as they would find this far away from the mountains.

Now that they had their location for the decisive battle, they began to build a waist-high wall right on the crest of the incline. Although a higher – or thicker – wall would have been nice, they were short on time. Even with their training, some additional cover for his muskets and a barrier to break an initial charge was the best Corco's men could do.

All around the king, his warriors were cutting down trees and forming them up in a long row, driving them into the ground and surrounding them with snow which had been pressed into large blocks. Although the snow by itself wouldn't make for a great wall, it was hardened with cold water, which would promptly freeze the entire block over.

Once put together, the mixture of hardened snow and wooden palisade was more sturdy than one would expect, even more so when Corco considered their lack of materials. In the first place, the snow was only there to make sure the wood wouldn't splinter under the impact of cannon fire, just in case Herak had brought some of his own heavy calibers from his ships.

Although Corco – guided by his otherworldly knowledge of history – didn't expect their enemies to use serious artillery fire outside of siege combat any time soon, he had already been wrong about their technological progress before, so he couldn't take any more chances.

To further impede their enemy's path, the warriors would also sharpen the logs into wooden stakes and then drive them into the ground at a slant to create a forest of over-sized spears right in front of the wall.

Whoever wanted to storm their position from the front would either have to break their charge and slalom through the stakes or risk turning themselves into skewers with their own inertia. Of course, Pacha could always send his men through the flanks to attack their sides, but then he would have to try his luck inside the woods on either side of the incline. Corco's men already had a few surprises prepared within the darkness of the forests, so he was quite confident that this wall would be where most of the battle would take place.

Although he would have liked to inspect the construction in more detail, the soldiers around him kept on saluting him every time he came near. Rather than a stroked ego, Corco preferred a finished wall, so he sped up and soon stepped up to the highest part of the incline. Here, with the best view of the future battlefield, Tama and Corco's improvised staff of commanders had already awaited him to plan the details of their defense.

*Command staff, another problem.*

When their supply fleet had been cut in half by Arnao's blockade, they had been left with not only fewer warriors than they would have liked, all the lords had also been stuck on the southern peninsula. At first, Corco had thought it would be a great advantage, since none of the lords could cause any more trouble like they had done ever since the start of the campaign. However, he had soon realized his mistake.

Although everyone listened to his orders and there were no more petty delays, he was also short on any officers to lead his men. In Medala, most lords commanded their armies personally. They would lead their men in battle, often from the front. In fact, most estates wouldn't even train any of their warriors in tactics for fear of an organized uprising.

At least his new troop training had somewhat helped out in this regard. His mercenaries had early taken the most talented and obedient Saniya soldiers from within the drilled regiments and given them some basic education to prepare them for an officer's career. Many of the southern warriors had also gone through war before and had at least a practical understanding of tactics.

Thus, he had been able to take some of the more experienced warriors from the southern lords as well as some of his best recruits to create this impromptu military staff. Still, it was a patchwork solution, so the best they could do was follow the orders of their king to the best of their abilities. In the end, they were lucky that their only engagement in an open field had been an easy win against a useless opponent. Apart form their fight against Rupilo, all their battles had them on the defensive, hidden behind walls. Leadership on the micro level played a much smaller role in these defensive sieges, compared to the absolute chaos that could ensue on an open field.

As he approached, the staff interrupted their conversation and stood at attention. The warriors and Tama bowed in deference while the commoners saluted their high commander like they had been taught.

"Okay, everyone be at ease. We don't have much time to waste on etiquette, so we'd better focus on essentials," a laconic Corco said while he stepped up to the high table the officers had scattered various notes on. His hands pressed down on the wooden surface and his voice turned sharper.

"We will soon face the last battle of this war, but don't think just because the previous fights were easy, this one will be as well. Pacha's desperate, and he's not as incompetent as the last commander, so this will be a struggle to the very end. If we want to get back home alive, we all will need to pull our weight."

"Understood, King Corco."

All people at the table raised their heads, solemn expressions on their faces. Even though the warriors were subordinate of other lords rather than Corco, they had become a great deal more cooperative throughout their campaign. After all, the king's military record so far was short, but spotless; and the Medalans always admired strength.

Now that everyone was on the same page, Corco nodded and turned to Tama first. Even though the girl had stood with the others before his arrival, it was more accurate to say that she was present during their conversation. She had positioned herself a bit aside from the officers, to make clear she was not a part of the group. The others no doubt felt the same and never tried to include her.

Ever since the rumors about her had spread, Tama had been treated with suspicion by everyone but the ghost warriors. Only Corco's express order had forced the others in the staff to endure her presence. Still, when she met her master's gaze, the girl's smile was as radiant as always. To Corco, it felt as if the entire issue was beneath her, but her master still allowed himself to be annoyed by it. Now was not the time to tread old ground though; now they had a job to do.

"Tama, tell everyone about the enemy troops and their movements."

"As you wish, King Corco." She took out her usual notes from within her robes and began to read off the information her ghosts had collected. "Our scouts have managed to get vision on King Pacha's army. Thus, we now have a more realistic count of their numbers. Though I will first say that these numbers are only estimates, since their marching formation is spread out quite thin and from a distance. Further, the large distance and relative chaos made it difficult to distinguish their army from their convoy. As far as we can tell, Pacha has recombined his troops with those previously led by Lord Herak. Further, he has regrouped several thousand of the scattered warriors under Lord Rupilo. Overall, their total number should not exceed thirty-five thousand."

No one spoke, but the other members of the staff shared looks of discomfort. Corco's army in the north only totaled about twelve thousand. Even though they had taken out an army bigger than their own only days earlier, no one among them had the confidence to take on an enemy almost thrice their number.

"Fuck me, didn't I just say that this next battle would be tough? What, you thought I was fucking around? Where's your confidence?" Corco asked the silent warriors. They still didn't answer, but at least they didn't look like deer in headlights anymore.

"Even though they have more men, you shouldn't underestimate our own strengths, especially when it comes to discipline and equipment. You've already seen some of those advantages at work against Rupilo, and you'll see even more of them in the next battle. Plus, we have been busy building our palisades here all day. So long as we can hold the walls, Pacha's superior numbers won't mean much. Since the incline is too narrow to support that many troops, most of their army won't be able to fight anyhow. And you have to remember that as a rule of thumb, you'd always want at least three or four times as many soldiers if you want to storm a fortified position. If Pacha thinks he can just run us over with sheer manpower, he'll have a rude awakening."

Once his staff had firmed up their posture and faces again, the king nodded and returned his attention to his spy master, the only one who had remained calm in the face of overwhelming odds.

"Continue."

"Their troops contain many have more warriors with cultivation than our own, which is where their greatest advantage lies. About twenty-four thousand of Pacha's men are either shock or core infantry, with another six thousand equipped as simple skirmishers, most of which are commoners, rather than archers. The commoners won't be of much help in a charge, so we can almost count them out of the equation. They would be lucky if they could make us waste some ammunition on them."

Even Corco shuddered a bit at the cruel statement presented with Tama's warm expression, yet the girl just continued on.

"The remaining troops are the musketeers with weapons from the eastern continent, which I expect to be lead by Lord Herak. We have already established that our muskets are of superior make, so this is another area where we hold an advantage, even though our total numbers of ranged troops is similar. We have found no signs of artillery thus far, but they drag a very large convoy behind them, so we cannot be sure they have not hidden any. Though even if they do, they will not have as many cannons as us, and the hill gives us another crucial advantages in an artillery battle."

Tama looked up to make sure everyone was still following along.

"Overall, King Pacha has reacted much more quickly to Fadelio's move-out than we expected. Not only did he receive the information sooner than anticipated, he also did not wait to collect any more scattered troops and instead marched east as soon as possible."

"That is a surprise for the scaredy-cat," Corco nodded. No one else at the table would describe the former hero Pachacutec like that; but for Corco's taste, Pacha had been far too careful with his moves all throughout the war. Had he been bolder, they might have been in far more trouble than they currently were. "Whatever changed his disposition, it's not good news for us. It means less time to finish up our defenses. To be honest, I'd rather deal with a few thousand more warriors and get the walls done in time."

"There is more bad news," Tama added. "We have finally seen movements from Huaylas. Lord Ichilia has taken his men and marched south-east. If our battle drags on for too long, he and his thousands of warriors will eventually join up with his nephew. In that case, our situation would only become more disadvantageous."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Again, the officers shared nervous stares, until one of them took a heart and addressed his king.

"King Corcopaca, it may be better to retreat for now. Even with the defensive position secured, the men will already struggle to hold out only against King Pachacutec's mighty army. If we were to face even more warriors - warriors of House Ichilia no less – this servant fears that the men will not be able to withstand it."

In response to the officer's poorly though-out argument, Corco only returned a cold stare. His impromptu staff seemed to be governed by fear when they should have listened to reason instead. The king still tried it with the latter one more time. Maybe they would see the light if they understood the gravity of their situation.

"If we retreat now, we lose the war, it's as simple as that. We also lose the support of our palisades and will have to fight out in the open. Although Pacha's army isn't as mobile as ours over long distances, his warriors can still catch us now that we're this close. One forced march and he reaches us, so don't think our army of mostly non-cultivators could still get away. At this point, we don't have much of a choice but to stand and fight. Though it's not like we'll be screwed if the battle drags on. Once Fadelio makes it south, the rest of the southern army will join us and we'll gain at least another ten thousand in force, probably more. Then, we can organize a tactical retreat back south without any issue. In the end, the battle will turn into a race between Fadelio and Dedrick on one side and the Ichilia troops on the other. But if nothing unusual happens, it'll be our win. The burden of attack is on Pacha, not on us."

"King may excuse this servant's weak-willed nature. This servant will fulfill his duties and guarantee victory."

After the man realized that their position wasn't as bad as it first seemed, he calmed down and pretended to be a brave warrior. Corco suppressed a sneer and brushed over the incident. Unity was more important.

"Right, then I'll distribute your roles during the defense."

First, he turned to the warrior who had just addressed him, a servant of the southern Lord Huaman Queru.

"Tracao di Queru, you will be in charge of the troops we have hidden in the northern woods. Drachimine di Rafun, you will be in charge of the southern ambush. I understand that in the last battle, neither warrior flank gave its all. There was a grand back and forth, but mostly you were just trying to look busy and not get involved. Back then, it was fine, which is why I didn't mention it. We just needed you to hold off Rupilo's flanking maneuver for long enough to break the center. But this time, things are different. This time, if we don't fight with everything we have, we will die. Don't trust Pacha to stick to the rules and keep you for ransom either. That uncle of mine has proven that he doesn't care about the old laws, so you best do your worst, or neither my uncle nor me will forgive you."

Their faces turned solemn as they acknowledged the king's orders with bows. With his warriors now encouraged and threatened, he turned to the only commoner at the table. During the last battle, he had been in charge of the left flank and handled his responsibilities better than could have been expected.

"Paec, you will be in charge of the defense along the wall, alongside myself. Tell the men to stop any further construction and have them get some sleep instead. Although it would be nice to get more work done, it'll be more important to be well-rested once Pacha shows up. I have a feeling he'll order an attack straight away."

As the man saluted to acknowledge his orders, he also gave the king a curious stare.

"King Corco, what makes you think so?" he asked.

"Because I've thought about the best method to break through our position, and that's what I would do."

As his officers swarmed out to man the defenses, Corco gazed at the endless snow in the west, the area soon to be occupied by Pacha's army. The final chapter of the war was soon upon them.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

200 Opening Gambi

From a distance, the fortifications of the southern army were almost invisible. White on white, the wall all but blended in with the incline it crested. Had it not been for the spikes of solid oak in front of the wall and the heads and banners peaking out from behind it, Pacha might have missed it entirely.

"King Pachacutec, all groups have reached the gathering point and all men are accounted for. Should we begin to set up the camp now?" The king had heard the steps in the snow behind him long before the words sounded out, but only now could he identify his attendant through his voice. Even though his orders were needed, the hero king didn't take his eyes off Corco's little wall.

"No," he said after he had probed the wall a bit longer for potential weak spots.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"No?"

"We will not set up a camp. Instead, we will launch our first attack right away."

For a while the servant was silent, proof that he was struggling to understand his master's orders. In the end, the bold servant decided to speak his mind and offer advice.

"However, we will still need to wait until the reinforcements from Lord Ichilia arrive."

No more than a week ago, Pacha might have gotten angry at his servant's opposition, but now he didn't mind. Even if they were as wrong as this one was, he would rather have his men speak their minds than listen to the lies of the opportunists and sycophants who called themselves lords.

"Why would we need my uncle if we can solve the southerners by ourselves?" the king sneered. "Unless Corco has another ten thousand men hidden in his pockets, we have more than twice their numbers. We can drive them off by ourselves just fine, with and without my uncle. If, and only if, we fail to break them by the time uncle arrives, we can use his fresh troops to break through in a final push. House Ichilia's reinforcements were only ever a last resort. This king never intended to rely on them."

"King is very wise. In this case, this servant will ask the men to rest until King is back from his meeting."

"What meeting?" At last, Pacha looked over to his attendant, just soon enough to see the warrior's polite smile give way to confusion. "Is this king expected to meet with some southern rebels? Meeting them before combat would only acknowledge them as equals, and give them more time to prepare their defense. There is no reason to negotiate, even less so with their dishonorable king."

"However... the men are still tired," the servant tried again. "They have been on the march all day and have had only short breaks since the start of the campaign. Without rest, our attack will be short-lived and lacking in force. This servant is afraid they might not be able to fulfill King's grand vision."

"So what if they're tired?" Pacha narrowed his eyes as he looked up the hill again, back towards his enemies. "Do you not see that wall before us? Do you believe Corco's men did not tire themselves out when they built all this within a single day?"

His good hand moved to trace the enemy fortifications in the distance.

"This king understands your worry. Although the attack is to be launched right away, we will not be reckless. Prepare a couple thousand expendable warriors from the cowards who call themselves my lords. This king tasks them to charge the hill and remove those wooden stakes in front of the wall. When they do, we will observe the southern army's reaction to our attack. Once we have scoped out their defenses, we will make more detailed plans for future, more comprehensive attacks."

His attendant bowed and soon left to relay the king's orders. Since they would only sacrifice the warriors of the other lords and thus did no damage to House Pluritac's strength, there was no reason for the servant to object the king's wishes any longer. They would even get some information out of the deal. While he waited for the first attack to launch, Pacha's eyes never left the white walls.

"Now then, what do you have planned for me, my nephew?" he muttered.

__________________________

With growing unease, Alcer watched as the horizon filled up with neat rows of little black lines, bit by bit. Although his eyes couldn't compare to those of a cultivator, he still knew that these figures in the distance were their enemies lining up for battle. Soon after, they had come close enough that even a mortal like him could make out their details. Compared to the army they had fought a few days earlier, there was a difference of day and night.

So far, Alcer had seen three kinds of armies. The first he had ever been familiar with were Lord Sawo's Saniya warriors. Although they had been glorified bandits, the lord had drilled some obedience into them. Though obedience had been easy to instill since they were all just commoners, they were still far from what Alcer would consider discipline. At most, they would be useful so long as their army was in a winning position.

The second kind was King Corcopaca's new army, the one Alcer was a small, but proud part of. Besides his respect for the king and his love for his home, his pride stemmed from the exhilaration he felt every time the soldiers marched together in drills, when their entire formation felt like an invincible single body. The connection he felt with all his fellow warriors in those moments was something that could bring great confidence in their victory, and something that would serve them well even in dire times.

Third had been their most recent enemy, Lord Rupilo's army. If Lord Sawo's army represented banditry and King Corcopaca's represented discipline, Rupilo had been far closer on the former's side. Just like he had heard in the stories, the warriors were powerful and thus liked to show off their individual strength in combat. As a result, they didn't really care much for discipline and were eager to turn every fight into a brawl. However, the army across from him looked entirely different from the previous one.

Unlike Rupilo's disorganized horde which looked like individual bands of bandits thrown together into a pile of bodies, the men before him were set up in neat rows, just like their own. Although the formation still looked a bit shabby compared to the drills they had done back in Saniya, Alcer could feel the same imposing aura as the one their own troops would radiate. Unlike the loose troops from his first major battle or the greedy scouts in his first engagement, these warriors were the real deal, worthy foes.

Alcer pressed his boots down into the snow, which was hardened by countless steps of the soldiers and tightened his hands around his gun. Somewhere to his right, his ensign was making another speech again about story books and immortal glory, but Alcer didn't listen. As always when he was nervous, he began to clean his weapon. Once again, the mechanical act reminded him of his rigorous training and calmed his mind.

It wasn't as if they didn't have a chance, he reassured himself. They had spent all day building these fortifications; they were not something a couple warriors could just rush past as they pleased. In addition, even though the previous engagements had been against inferior enemies, they had still achieved overwhelming victory every time they fought. He had already been in two fights against real warriors, and both had been resounding successes. Now the spell of the invincible cultivator in his mind was broken. There was no more reason to fear them.

Best of all, most important of all, they had their king - their great leader - by their side to guide them to glory. King Corcopaca's rousing speech before the battle against Rupilo had shown them that their king understood the plights of the simple commoners, that he cared about their problems. He was a real leader, and he had been proven invincible in combat again and again. Wherever the king went, he could do no wrong.

Just earlier, Alcer had seen him walk past his position and inspect their work while he would offer a friendly smile to all the warriors around him. What other of lord would be this nice to mere mortals? Why would he act like this if he wasn't on their side, a king no less? At the very least, Sawo had never been this polite to any of them.

Although Killari had been injured in the last engagement, Alcer almost felt envious of him. Not because he would miss out on this battle and was thus safe, but because he had been given the chance to meet their great king in person. At first it had sounded like a boast to Alcer, but others had confirmed it: Back during their resupply in the hidden village, the king had come to his injured soldiers as they lay in the medical tents and talked to each and every one of them. Even more, he had listened to them and their problems, no matter how lowly they were, or how poor they were with their words. Not only was their lord invincible, he was also a man of great integrity and generosity.

If nothing else, Alcer would fight for his king, and for his own future, the one the king had painted for him. His determination was restored just in time to watch the initial movements of the enemy troops. A small contingent of warriors had positioned themselves at the head of the enemy formation, ready to charge their walls.

"Looks like an attack is about to come, huh?" one of his men commented.

Alcer nodded in reply. "Yeah. They look ready to run. How many is that? Maybe a hundred at most?"

"Hundred forty or so," said Guman, another of his subordinates. As a former hunter, he had excellent eyes and also had a talent for guessing numbers.

"Hundred or hundred forty, isn't that still too little? Do they wanna die? What are they thinking?" another soldier asked.

"Idiot, it's just a probe," Alcer barked and began to load his gun. "They wanna see what we got. Let's show them, boys. Ready your weapons."

"Yes sir!"

As soon as they had finished their talks, drums filled the air and the enemy stormed up the hill. Although they had looked so organized earlier, the warriors lost all cohesion as soon as they began their charge. At least the loose formation would lessen the impact of the musket volleys for them, but it didn't help much.

As soon as the received the order from their ensign, Alcer and his men fired their first salvo. From then on, they worked like machines, only relying on their training. One shot every twenty seconds, three shots a minute. That was the minimum rate of fire expected from a trained Saniya soldier. If thousands of them fired all at once, it created an insurmountable wall of lead. Despite their earlier enthusiasm, the enemy warriors didn't even manage to reach the the spikes in front of their wall before they turned around like beaten dogs, leaving many of their dead or bleeding comrades behind in the snow.

As shouts of celebration erupted all around him, Alcer still watched the enemy formation with critical eyes. They might have won, but this much was nothing. In the first engagement, they had taken out maybe twenty warriors at most. Compared to the size of the central army, they hadn't even caused them a scratch.

As he watched, two more troops of similar size to the first detached from the main army and marched north and south respectively, into the forests on either side of their position. As they disappeared between the trees, Alcer hoped the men hidden in the woods wouldn't be swept up in their celebrations as well. They would be the next to receive a probe.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

201 No More Probes

Long before any information reached their position, the sound of cheers in the distance told Tracao of their first victory. However, none of the positive atmosphere transferred over. Unlike the simple-minded commoners at the wall, the men under his command were all proper warriors who understood the significance of real battle and treated it with the required decorum. Even though they had spent several days together on the march and the commoners had proven somewhat dependable in their first battle together, this sort of cavalier attitude showed the difference between the king's new soldiers and proper warriors.

Rather than be happy with a shallow victory during the first engagement, Tracao looked behind, where they had established line of sight through a gap in the trees to transmit news and orders via flag. Of course, a real warrior like him wouldn't need any paper or spend a lot of time to decipher the king's new symbols, unlike the clumsy commoners.

Driven by honor and duty, Tracao had spent the days since his arrival in the king's army practicing the new symbols and communication methods of Saniya. By now, he had become an expert in both. Once he saw the flags move, he could read the message right away; and his face turned grim.

"Here it is, men! Our call to arms! Between one and two hundred enemy warriors are on their way to our position! Everyone get in formation, and raise your shields and axes! Remember the plan and let none of them get away!"

Quite unlike what Tracao was used to from previous battlefields, there was no reason to doubt the transmitted information. If nothing else, at least their king was dependable when it came to warfare. At first, Tracao hadn't been especially eager to serve King Corcopaca. Not only had the king introduced commoners into his army and thus cheapened the standing of the warriors, Tracao's real master was Lord Huaman, who had his own plans for the south and wasn't too eager to see the king succeed.

Although the lords wanted Corco to win the war and defend the south, they didn't want an overwhelming victory. If the king was too successful, he would gain too much political weight and might reduce the power of the lords in the future.

However, his master wasn't here right now, so he had more freedom to act upon his own thoughts. As far as Tracao was concerned, the king had proven himself more than worthy to be followed. In his speech, he had shown that he understood the situation the warriors of the south were in, always under the thumb of the northerners.

Of course, the lords would say anything to make warriors fight for them, but Corcopaca had proven his sincerity when he had shied away from most luxury on their campaign to live no better than the warriors around him. He would even refuse to be carried by his guards and would always speak in an informal manner that inspired familiarity. Somehow, he had a strange energy about him, something that would spur others on and bring the best out of them.

In the absence of any other high nobility and with Corco's no-nonsense attitude and his string of wins, the king had won the goodwill of most southern warriors. Tracao was glad that the enthusiasm of his men had given him an excuse to support the young king.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

For King Corco and his goals, Tracao was willing to do his best, even if it meant getting scolded by his master later.

Not long after, enemy troops closed in on their position, though they were just some shock infantry from the northern lords. The decent quality of their training could already be seen from their approach. They didn't blindly charge ahead to flank the main force as soon as possible and instead moved in small groups, covering each other's flanks to prevent ambushes.

Still, their orderly formation didn't last for long. As soon as they saw the warrior line Tracao had formed at the top of a small incline within the woods, the enemy movements grew restless. Since he didn't have any of the king's fancy new weapons at his disposal, Tracao's setup looked very traditional. This would be an old-fashioned clash of warriors against warriors, no tricks and no games; the first chance in this unusual war to distinguish themselves with their prowess in battle. At least that was what the enemy commanders were supposed to think.

At first, they charged the hill as planned, and Tracao's own men at the top got ready to meet them head on. However, as the first row had reached halfway up the incline, one of them lost his footing on the snow, tripped and fell. Soon, a second followed, and then a third. Only hours earlier, Tracao had personally picked this spot for battle after a lengthy inspection. Although it wasn't the steepest hill in the forest, it was the longest, and had his men spread cold water all the way downhill. By now, the surface had frozen and turned into a slippery mess, the dangerous glimmer of ice hidden by the shadows of the forest. Again and again, King Pacha's warriors tried to stand and regain their momentum, but they all lost their balance and tumbled down to the ground. As they slid back down the hill, they took more of their allies with them in a chain reaction, until their orderly formation had turned into a chaotic heap of limbs.

"Charge!" Tracao shouted, and rushed out of his hidden position with a raised axe. Since he had chosen this strategy, he wouldn't only place his men atop the hill. How would they get down to deal with the enemy warriors without slipping themselves? No, the men at the top were only the bait, and it was his job to clean up the mess they had caused.

Together with a small team of twenty warriors, they charged out of the bushes to the side and fell into the rows of enemies like wolves into a pack of deer. Without mercy, their axes cut down the fallen warriors. The king had emphasized that no one was to escape and Tracao had sworn to fulfill the orders of his temporary master as best he could. Whoever didn't surrender on the spot soon lost his life within the nameless little forest.

__________________________

"It appears the woods are no longer a viable avenue of attack from now on." Pacha frowned as he looked down on the trembling warrior with the nasty cut on his right arm.

"This lord disagrees." Unasked, one of his staff of useless lords replied, which forced the king to look up and deal with more nonsense. "This lord's eagle-eyed have estimated the number of southern troops stationed at their walls. It should be almost their entire army. They cannot have too many men left to protect their flanks. Obviously, the reason for the flank's failure lay not with our enemy's strength, but is only the individual failure of Lord Maecilius' cowardly warriors."

"Shut up!" In response to Pacha's explosion, the lords flinched back and the failed warrior bent his head even lower, his face now pressed into the soft snow. "This king will not tolerate any more useless bickering. No politics in war! If you want to deal with a rival lord, declare your own war after this king is finished with his, as this king will not become your axe. Should that not please you, you are free to take your men and leave at your leisure."

One by one, the king stared down his useless subordinates; all of them avoided his gaze. They knew that leaving now would make the king their enemy, and none of them had the courage to start a rebellion. After he had asserted his dominance, Pacha continued.

"None of the warriors we sent north have returned, and only a few made it back from the south. They clearly ran into an ambush. Even if we send more men, success is doubtful. We never had an accurate count for the number of southern warriors who made a successful landing in the north. Hence, we could not possibly know how many men are hidden inside those woods, or how many more traps they have prepared in advance. Still, if Lord is so confident that the woods are the way to go, he may volunteer his own men for another attempt."

As soon as his own warriors were put on the spot, the selfish lord became very interested in the snow between his feet, still without words. Pacha only snorted and returned to the issue at hand.

"Now everyone should understand that the forest is not an option for our attack. If we had more time to scout out the woods, all the traps and trickery would be useless. However, time is what we lack the most. If my brother's servant makes it through the Narrows with the craftsmen, we will lose an important advantage. We may even lose the entire war. In this case, our only choice is swift win in a frontal engagement. Now, this king is willing to listen to suggestions for how to achieve this goal."

"King Pachacutec, I suggest we make use of the commoners," one of the lords stepped up after a prolonged silence. "Since the southerners are short on proper warriors and are unlikely to launch a charge of their own to relieve the siege, our skirmishers will not be of much use. Usually, their only value is to tie down a charge of shock infantry, so they are only dead weight for us. We should send them ahead of our first proper wave of attacks and have them soak up some of those deadly projectiles the foreigners seem so proud of."

For a moment, the king thought about the suggestion and a shudder ran down his spine. Pacha recalled the state of the warriors who had been hit by those tiny balls of metal. Among the men who had rejoined him from Rupilo's former army, there had been many who had only received tiny wounds from these weapons, nowhere near enough to stop a cultivator. However, despite the best attempts of his doctors, their state continued to deteriorate. Many had died already, and the rest looked to be in danger as well. He was about to agree with the lord's suggestion, when the enigmatic Duke Herak chimed in.

"While that is not a bad idea, I have a much better use for those worthless commoners. Back in the convoy, I have prepared some impromptu walls I can erect on the spot, if I am given enough manpower. King Pachacutec, If you hand control of your commoners to me, I will have them set up our own fortifications right within firing distance of the wall. In this manner, we will reduce losses to our core troops and at the same time make an approach to the enemy position much easier."

"Here in Medala, warriors fight uprightly, in accordance with the great strategies handed down by the ancestors," one of the lords sneered. "What sort of unproven trickery are you planning, foreigner?"

"The sort that will win you your war, little man," Herak replied in his usual, cold voice. Pacha had never seen the man raise his voice, as if he was always in control. Yet the little lord failed to see the predator before him and continued to insist.

"Real men fight in a proper, upfront manner. This lord will not stand for any backhanded tricks."

"So you prefer death to victory then. I see now why your people are in trouble."

"How dare you..."

While the two sides argued back and forth, Pacha fell into thought. Although he was an outsider, Herak had already fought against Corco's tricks in the past, that much the king had learned from conversation with his newest ally. As a result, the foreigner was much less likely to underestimate his sly brother. Compared to him, the other lords like Rupilo had proven far too simple-minded in their approach.

"That's enough," he raised his voice to still the arguments. "We will go with Lord Herak's plan. Give him whatever skirmishers you have, and whatever support he needs. Lord Herak, if you lack numbers, you are free to grab more commoners from the convoy behind us, most are just hyenas without worth anyways. While you prepare your ploy, this king will go and inspire his men."

Followed by the salutes of his men, Pacha left the tent, hoping he had made the correct decision.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

202 Real War

Ever since their initial probe of the southern front line and flanks, the northerners hadn't sent any more troops their way. That didn't mean there had been no movement beyond the wall. Divided by the empty field of white, King Pacha's men carried a wooden platform with a fancy throne on top to the front of their formation. With an impassive expression, Tama watched as the bastard king stood up in front of his elevated throne and stepped onto the platform.

Though they had looked like lousy fighters so far, at least his warriors showed great balance as they managed to hold up their master without much trouble. The wind may have carried away the sound in the distance, Pacha's animated movement alone told her that he was holding what he considered a rousing speech; from the rising tension of his army, it seemed like his men agreed.

"Maybe you should hold your own speech? I am convinced you would do much better than that Uncle Peacock of yours." As she turned to Corco, Tama's expression softened into a smile.

"And hype up the soldiers like last time?" the king replied with a bitter look. Indeed, when they had fought Rupilo, Corco's burning address had incited a sudden, chaotic charge and almost ruined their entire battle plan from the very start. "Don't forget that we're the defenders either. We need a cool mind and grit, not fire. Plus, that ignited spirit of Pacha's warriors will get doused as soon as they step into firing range. No amount of morale can survive continued cannon and musket fire. Rather than my uncle's little speech, I'm much more worried about whatever Herak is doing."

Reminded of the scary foreigner's existence, Tama looked beyond Pacha's oration and took a closer look at the soldiers who received it. Instead of putting his best men into formation for a charge - as Tama would have expected - he had lined up all of his commoners to lead the first proper charge. They didn't even carry their usual equipment of bolas and nets. Instead, a few held large shields, while the rest each carried a jute bag in their hands.

"What are they planning?" Tama asked as her stomach contracted in inexplicable worry.

"Looks like we're about to find out." Just as Corco's words had left his mouth, Pacha had finished his speech and pointed his long axe in their vague direction. In response, all the commoners marched ahead, hidden behind the shields in the front. Though they didn't have the same energy as the charging warriors had prior, their actions still seemed driven and orderly. Maybe it was only because of the archers who were positioned behind them to threaten any deserters, but for now they walked towards their deaths with open eyes.

"What should we do?" Tama asked with increasing worry. She understood Corco. The kind king was always eager to let the commoners off easy. Normally, she was willing to indulge him. This time however, that sort of leniency could be fatal. This was Pacha's plan, she thought. As Corco agonized over whether or not he should spare them, the commoners would get close to their wall, until it was too late to prevent whatever plan they had hidden inside those bags. However, the king surprised her with his callous answer.

"What do you think? Tell the muskets to get ready. Have them fire as soon as they get into range, but favor precision over volume. And hold back the cannons, no reason to waste gunpowder on some skirmishers."

After both kings had given their orders, the battle went into its next phase. Many of Pacha's commoners died in their approach of the walls. However, they didn't try to storm the front and never tried to get too far up the hill. Instead, just a few steps inside the enemy firing range, they stacked the bags and created their own low walls at the foot of the incline. As Tama observed the new walls with her spyglass, she saw several musket shots enter the bags, yet the commoners behind them were unharmed, if shaken.

"What are these things?" she asked in shock. She had expected the bags to be filled with gunpowder, poison or sawdust for ignition. Yet she had never imagined them to be used in such a fashion.

"They're sandbags." With fury in his voice, Corco scanned the battlefield, until his eyes focused on a spot in the distance. "Herak! That fucker stole my trick."

When Tama followed her master's eyes, she saw a large man with the fair skin of the eastern foreigners, his face covered in a scary bronze mask and his back taken up by a giant black bow.

"Shit, they're doing some proto-trench shenanigans. I changed my mind. Tell the front line to hold nothing back and fire at will! Make sure they don't get those walls of sandbags up! Even if they do, we have to slow them down and make their approach as expensive as possible!"

"Understood." Tama was about to turn and relay the orders when Corco called her back.

"And recall back Tracao and his people from the forests. We'll soon need all the manpower we can get here."

"What happens if King Pacha tries to outflank us again?" Despite the urgency in Corco's voice, this time she couldn't just ignore the possible consequences of giving up their flanks.

"My uncle's got no idea just how his first batch of warriors died in those woods, or how many people I have hidden in there. Plus, we're obscured behind a wall and an elevation, so he won't even see the warriors coming back. If Pacha knows what's good for him, he won't send any more men to die on the flanks. And even if he does, your people would be able to scout it and inform us before any accidents happen, right?

"Of course. They will serve you with their dying breath." As will I, she added in her head.

When Tama left to inform the individual troop commanders and her scouts of their new orders, the worry that had only gripped her stomach tightened around her heart as well. When even the always confident Corco was this flustered, the trouble this time may be more serious than ever before. As she turned to look at the lonely back of her master, she balled her hands into fists. No matter what it took, Tama would stand by his side until the end.

__________________________

Even from his position by his throne, Pacha could just feel the smugness of Corco's troops all the way across the battlefield. The progress of the commoners was much slower than he liked, and he was sure that somewhere beyond these walls, a self-satisfied Corco enjoyed the view as the northern men struggled and fell one by one. Still, at least they were making some measure of progress. For now, they were still putting up barriers of bags as they encroached ever closer to Corco's snow wall.

Although the losses of his men were considerable, they were only commoners in the end. Only the screams were a bit disturbing, since they might lower the morale of his warriors if they had to step through all that carnage later. However, he was sure that his men would also understand how different their lives were from those of mere mortals. Soon enough, they would send their proper troops and storm the wall from behind their new covers. Once at melee range, the advantage would be his, and he could grind down Corco's southern soldiers bit by bit.

However, just as Pacha dreamed of his eventual victory, his attendant appeared by his side.

"King Pachacutec, a runner has arrived with an urgent message."

Even before he broke the seal, the king had a bad feeling. Over these past months, urgent runners had not once brought him good news. And this time as well, his fears were confirmed.

"Bastard! How dare he!" The piece of paper crumpled between his clenched fists and soon landed on the ground. As his attendant carefully retrieved the confidential document and stowed it away, the nearby lords gave the king curious looks. Though of course, only one of them would have the courage to confront an enraged Pacha.

"What are the news?" Herak asked in his chilly tone. As the ice of the heartless lord's tone seeped into his blood, Pacha calmed as well, though his face had become dark as the bottom of a pot.

"We have been betrayed. Makipura and his entire estate have joined the south under Corco. By now, they have taken out our encampment in the Narrows and have teamed up with the southern troops from Qarasi Castle. All of them are on their way here and will arrive soon."

"What!?"

"How dare that bastard!"

"Does Makipura have no honor!?"

"He deserves the harshest punishment!"

While the wastes beneath Pacha paid lip service and pretended outrage, the king himself became more worried the more he thought about the strategic implications of the news. Since the southerners had broken through the Narrows, they would soon relieve Corco's trapped attendant and lead him south. Then Makipura and the southern lords were free to lead their large army west and reinforce Corco's position. Would they be here sooner than Pacha's uncle Divitius? How many men did they have among their ranks? Pacha didn't know the answers, but even if they were in his favor, he didn't want to see the war escalate even further. Only Amautu would profit from more dead warriors.

Again he looked at the battlefield in the distance, and again he saw the commoners make only laborious progress under the intense fire of the defenders.

"Why are they so slow!? Tell them to speed up!" he shouted at his attendant.

"Useless worms," Herak growled next to Pacha. "I wanted to wait a while longer until they set up the bags up to the walls, but it seems like I will have to move out early."

"Duke Herak, what do you suggest?" Pacha knew that the foreigner wouldn't listen to his command and would do whatever he liked anyways. Still, if he wanted to retain some semblance of face, he had to at least frame the foreigner's willful actions as advice to the king. As usual, Herak humored Pacha and showed some basic courtesy, if nothing else.

"Since we are short on time, I will lead my own men to join the battle. The commoners are this slow because those enemy muskets get to fire at our peons without reply. Once I position some of my own muskets behind those sandbags, we can suppress them with our own fire and construction will speed up again." As he spoke, Herak pulled his giant bow from his back and began to string it.

"Fine, you may proceed," Pacha played along with the charade and gave his worthless consent. They weren't his men anyways, so Herak was free to let as many of them die as he wished. Rather than the battle plan, he was more curious about the stranger's own actions. "However, Lord Herak, why do you appear to get ready for a fight? Do you intend to join the battle yourself?"

"Who else would?" the duke glanced at the other lords before he tested the pull of his bow. "After all, this is the reason I have joined this war. Now excuse me, King Pachacutec. I will go hunt a merchant."

__________________________

As a Captain, Alcer should be in charge of another nine men. Right now however, he could barely take care of himself. All around him, he could hear shouts of uncountable voices. Some soon turned into screams. He couldn't see the enemy volleys that reached them from down the hill, but every now and then he could hear the bullets whiz past him. Though the sounds were disorienting, the sights were no better.

Before him, he could only see chaos. With or without his command, his troop of nine was embroidered in a desperate struggle, together with their entire line. Their front line of halberds blindly pushed, shoved and poked their weapons over the wall, in a desperate attempt to keep the enemy warriors at bay, or to break their push; Alcer did not know which one.

Whatever they were doing, their foes wouldn't let off. Again and again, they would charge at them like waves. Like countless times before, the force of an impact traveled through the rows of soldiers and pushed Paec half a step back as he got up. He forced his way back towards the sweat and iron scent of battle and somehow managed to put his gun in between two bodies. Without any vision on a target, he pulled the trigger and his weapon went off; only the smell of powder confirmed his success. He heard another scream, but he had no idea if it had been his doing; there were screams everywhere.

Shell shocked, he looked around, but saw the same tangled mess of bodies everywhere. Any semblance of order had long disappeared. Another arrow whizzed past just above his head and disappeared somewhere in the crowd behind him. Somehow, Alcer found the space to crouch back behind the wall and his front row allies to reload his flintlock once more. He didn't know how many shots he had fired, he had lost count after around twenty.

How had things gone so wrong so quickly? Only minutes ago, everything had been so easy. At first, they hadn't even faced off against men with weapons. Only some common skirmishers carrying sacks dared brave their gunfire, like fools. However, under threat of the archers and warriors behind them, these living targets had advanced by suffering heavy losses and had soon built their first impromptu wall. Then they had used the cover to leap ahead and create a second, and then a third.

As the enemy got closer, Alcer's accuracy increased as much as the accuracy of all their musketeers, and the progress of the wall builders slowed to a crawl. Yet as soon as they were about to stabilize, the enemy had sent their own muskets to suppress their fire. Hidden behind their new walls of sacks, their enemies could fight back against their own wall of snow. From that point on, Alcer finally understood how all their enemies must have felt in the face of their own firepower.

Musket fire could be heard, but it could not be seen. All of a sudden, there was invisible death all around him. He no longer had the time to watch and admire his accuracy. As soon as he fired his shot, he returned back behind cover, in hopes that the flimsy wood and snow would hold against the enemy volleys. To his shame, he even caught himself hoping that the flesh of his allies would do the trick if the wall failed. Shot by shot, he would conquer his fears every time and rise from his cover to fire, and every time the picture in his front became more desperate.

He rose to his feet, and saw the enemy muskets had hopped ahead to the second wall. He fired and retreated to his cover.

He rose to his feet, and saw that they had reached within twenty feet, well within firing distance, close enough to aim at individual soldiers. The officers would be a key target, and Alcer was one of them. He still fired his shot and retreated yet again.

He rose to his feet and saw the mighty cannons behind their walls get stuffed shut by the bags the enemies had prepared. He saw the spikes they had spent great pains to ram into the frozen earth pierced with more bags, to create a cover for the enemy right in front of their defensive line.

He rose to his feet, and saw a large swath of warriors rush from cover to cover to close in on their position.

He rose to his feet, and saw them organize a charge, the first of many. Down on his knees, Alcer heard the cries of warriors overpower the constant gunfire, and then he heard the clash of metal on metal. Somehow, he fumbled the ramrod back into position and rose to his feet yet again.

At that point, his allies were in a desperate struggle against the enemy charge. Their formation bent and deformed, and the first northern warriors threatened to surmount the wall of snow. As they pushed on, their force rippled through the defenders until it reached Alcer.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

He lost his balance once again, and this time he fell. His hand landed in a puddle. When he raised it to his face, it was colored a dark red. From down here he could see that their pristine, snow-white defensive wall had turned into a puddle of muddy blood. Alcer's fingers cramped around his gun, and he rose once more.

With desperate determination, he found another hole, and fired once more. He had no idea how many he had killed, if any. He had no idea how many were left, no idea if they were winning or losing. This was a real war.

Within minutes, their battle had transformed from a leisurely practice session into true hell.

Another arrow narrowly flew over his head. Once more, Alcer fell to the ground to reload his gun.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

203 Counter Offensive

"Would this motherfucker aim somewhere else for once!?"

More angry than scared, Corco stared at the arrowhead stuck out of the back of the shield. Its enormous force had driven the projectile all the way through the wood, only halting right in front of his nose. The annoyed king's hand roughly shoved the warrior holding the shield to the side to create some space for observation. With all these shields everywhere, he couldn't see anything. Once again, he raised his telescope to search the battlefield for Herak, that vengeful bastard.

For the longest time, their front line had been stable as a rock. Sure, Herak had stolen his trick with the sandbags to close in on their defensive position, but they still had their wall; they still had their artillery; they still had the high-ground; and they still had better equipment.

Even though Herak's muskets somehow managed to create enough cover fire for the warriors of the north to reach to their front, the best they could do was a desperate back and forth struggle along the wall. Their bravery gained them no ground and brought them nothing but heavy losses. On the snow trampled into ice beneath countless boots, the bodies slid down the hill rather than pile up along the front, to create one further obstacle to slow down the attackers.

Although it wouldn't be as glamorous as Corco's victory over Ruplio, they would still manage a solid win over Pacha so long as he was allowed to freely command from the back. Since the other commanders were busy on the front line, all Corco had to do was send out their reserves to strengthen whatever section of their line needed reinforcements. Which was where his problems began.

After he had shoved away his shield bearers, he had gained some room for his observation. Yet he hadn't gotten a good look at the battlefield when his guards once again pushed him back and closed up their shields. Right after, he heard another dull thump against from beyond the wood. At least this time, the arrow hadn't pierced the reinforced oak, but the duke's persistence still pissed him off.

He couldn't work like this. Shortly after Pacha's muskets had started to return fire, the first arrows had flown his way; they hadn't stopped since. At first they had only landed in his vague direction, but since then, the archer had honed in on his position with more and more precision. By now, every shot would be a deadly hit if it weren't blocked by his warriors. Though Corco hadn't found the shooter yet, he had seen these arrows before, thin and long and fired at great speeds. Back during their fight in Etra, Herak had fired the exact same kind. Even back then, the petty bastard had only aimed at him.

"This can't keep going. We're paralyzed," Corco whined. He couldn't stay here and leave his army without a leader, but he also couldn't brave the arrows so he could give his commands. For that, he was neither brave nor stupid enough. Frustrated, the king turned to his attendant, his right eye twitching from the bothersome interference.

"Tama!"

"Yes, King Corco." Even now that he was under heavy fire, the girl had never left his side, not once; and she still held that warm smile, still surrounded by an aura of confidence.

"You'll take over command of the reserves," the king said with clenched teeth and handed her his seal. Despite Tama's reputation, it would keep the other warriors in line. No one would dare ignore her orders so long as she held his sigil. "Just watch the walls and every time they break through, send some reserves to reinforce that spot."

"However, King Corco, what will you do?" For the first time throughout the battle, Tama looked flustered. Who wouldn't, when faced with Corco's crazy, manic grin. This time, he was really fed up with all of them ganging up on him. Pacha, Caelestis, Herak... if they wouldn't leave him alone to play Sim City in peace, he'd have to beat his pacifist notions into them instead.

"If you wanna hide a tree, you gotta do it in a forest." he replied. "Once I'm on the front line, I'd like to see Herak shoot his arrows through rows of his own people just to hit me." Corco grasped the axe and shield to his side. Compared to pistols and unarmed combat, he wasn't great with melee weapons, but he was still a former imperial prince. His training and cultivation would put him several heads above the average soldier, and he had plenty of support to count on.

"Master, you don't plan to join the front line yourself," a wide-eyed Tama asked, but another arrow hit the shields to dismiss her concern. Corco had thoroughly lost his patience.

"Guards to me! Let's go get that fucking archer's head!" Although they didn't understand their king all too well in all the noise, they could still feel his enthusiasm. Once again, Corco looked beyond the shields and spotted an area right in the center, where his men had been pushed back and the enemy had begun to dismantle their walls.

"Charge!" The scream of a proper warrior escaped the king's throat, before he stormed into battle.

__________________________

A glimmer within the chaos of battle sent a shock wave through Alcer's body. Somehow, he managed to stumble to the side and avoid the sharp blade. When the axe fell towards his head, his instinct alone had saved his life. After he had missed his mark, his exhausted opponent fell from the follow-through, so Alcer grabbed his musket by the barrel and clubbed its stock over his fallen foe's head until he stopped moving.

Alcer didn't remember for how long he had fought. His arms burned like fire and were so heavy he could barely lift them anymore. As he propped himself up after the clubbing, his feet had gotten stuck in the mud again, and it took all his power to free himself from the grasp of the earth.

At some point, his weapon had jammed up, so he had been left with nothing but an awkward club. However, he still fought on in desperation. What else could he do in this chaos, where there was no escape? Just as he was about to catch his breath, he could feel the pressure from the front line become bigger again, as more and more enemy warriors crossed the wall to pressure their halberdiers. Even the flimsy semi-circle they had formed around the wall to surround the invading enemies was close to collapse by now.

"Men to me!" For a moment, he remembered his role as captain and tried to rally his troops in a hoarse, breathless voice. "Drive them back!"

Only then did he realize again that he was just some tiny commoner, and not a great general. No one listened to him as they all struggled by themselves, all of them ants who vainly hoped to not be crushed by the overwhelming force before them.

Desperate, Alcer swung his club at the next best enemy to protect the small space around him.

*Could this be the end?* he wondered.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

More than just his life, would their dream end here? Their king had talked to them about a future where they wouldn't bow to anyone, where their lives would have worth. Had all of it only been an illusion? Was there really nothing an ordinary man could do in the face of true cultivators?

His mind numbed like his body. Only just, he could still feel his gun barrel – moistened by snow and blood – slip through his weak fingers, tired out from hours of combat. He no longer had the strength to hold on. Yet before he lost the last of his grip, he could feel the trample of steps from behind. He didn't even have the time to turn around before he saw an avalanche of shiny silver and white rush past him.

*Reinforcements!*

With irresistible power, the newcomers drove into the enemy ranks and pushed the great cultivators back like they were nothing. And right in the midst of his saviors, axe held high, Alcer saw that very man who had inspired him so before the last battle. Close to the front of his elite guard, beneath his own banner, stood their king and fought for their future with righteous fury in his eyes, angered at all the evils his subjects had suffered.

Alcer's breath stopped, and his hands regained their grip. With a scream to mimic the one of his lord, he charged ahead to rejoin the battle.

__________________________

"Too slow, still too slow." Yet again, the same words escaped Pacha, before he stared into the deep orange sun right above the horizon, and his mood sank with it. His gaze was soon caught again on the battle just below the sundown. Although his warriors had somehow managed to storm the hill and force a melee along Corco's ice wall, the battle was still only an arduous back and forth with no clear winner in sight. As the sun began to set, it had sunk into the back of the defenders and shone into the eyes of his own men, to further composite their disadvantages.

*As if our tired legs and uphill climb did not make us suffer enough already.*

Was this the revenge of the Divines the priests had warned him about? Ever since he had been young, Pacha hadn't particularly cared for the Divines. After all, he was named after the great Pacha itself. With the support of the only great god, why would he care about the support from those minor divines?

Yet now that the forces of nature itself began to conspire against him, his skin crawled and he felt observed by countless immortal eyes. First was the warm summer which had created a bountiful harvest for the south so they would be harder to starve out, then the snow out of nowhere had slowed his army. Finally, the sunset had arrived at just the wrong moment and weakened his charge. Pacha's heart sank when he realized that he might lose yet again.

Even worse, as soon as his men made some amount of progress and threatened to surmount the wall in the center, he saw Corco's banner move. Together with his elite guards, the little king had personally pushed the offensive back down the hill and rebuilt his front, as if he tried to prove himself as the true hero king. Helplessly forced to watch, Pacha clenched his fists. Yet as soon as his muscles tensed, a sharp pain in his right elbow reminded him of his own insufficiency.

The elbow that would no longer bent, an invincible opponent who could turn his fate like others turned pages in a book and the opposition of the divines. What could a single mortal do against all this higher force? How was it fair that everything and everyone fought against him?

*If they dare oppose me, they do not deserve my mercy,* the young king thought as his face regained its former vim. *If everyone dares stand against me, I will simply have to cut them down, one by one.*

In fact, wasn't this his chance to make up for his earlier defeats, his humiliations? Corco was right there, only a few steps away, ready to be beaten. Why would he shrink back in fear now that he was presented with the chance? Pacha ignored the pain in his right arm and tightened his fists again.

"Guards! Bring me my axe and shield!"

Without a word of question, his warriors brought the king's new weapons to him. He might have been crippled, but he wasn't helpless yet.

As Pacha held his awkward right arm out at an angle, the guards fastened the specially made long shield to it. Yes, he couldn't move his arm too well anymore, but with this large shield fastened to his right, he wouldn't have to. The large shield covered most of his body, so he only had to hold it out.

Finally, his left grasped his giant axe. While Corco had played politics to stabilize the south over the past year, Pacha hadn't stood still either. So what if he couldn't move his right arm? He could still learn to fight with his left. In then end, he was still the hero king.

"Guards to me! We are storming the hill! Show those barbarians the honor of the north!"

Surrounded by the bellows of his men, the hero king and his men charged into battle to defy the heavens.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

204 Confrontation

Corco's axe rushed through the cold air and got lodged in an enemy shield. In a hurry, the king used his own shield to defend his side from a counter while he yanked at his weapon. Although the axe didn't come loose, he took the shield and the entire attached warrior with him. All he needed to do was make a step to the side and the enemy warrior landed on the ground. He didn't even see the man's face before two of Corco's guards rushed in and made short work of the last straggler this side of the wall.

Before Corco had arrived at the front, his people looked in trouble. Now however, they had already pushed them all the way back down the hill. Still, stabilizing the center hadn't been Corco's goal from the very start. He had only chosen to charge down the middle their defense looked weakest there, but the arrows had all come somewhere from the left. Now that he was near the front, he was looking forward to catching that bastard Herak and teaching him the lesson of a lifetime. Maybe then the bastard would no longer chase him like a scorned lover.

"To me!" he shouted, and amassed a large group of warriors around him. "We are breaking out!"

What was the point of a defensive battle when the wall was already in such a sorry state? A charge down the hill would have no worse an effect than stubborn insistence and would be much better for morale. Most importantly, it would bring him ever closer to Herak's reckoning.

Led by Corco and his guards, the army rushed over whatever was left of the snow wall. For the first time since the start of the battle, the southern army was on the offensive.

__________________________

Alcer made an awkward step to climb over the corpse of a fallen ally and suddenly the feeling returned to his numb legs. With it had come the fire in his veins. Though he was surefoot again, the pain made him gasp for air. This was the third time he had gone through this cycle of pain and numbness.

Still, he wouldn't give up. His eyes never left the banner not far away, the king's own.

"To the king! Charge!" he heard in his ear. When he turned, Alcer saw Guman the hunter. At some point during the earlier battle they had lost each other, but now they were reunited again. Although Alcer was supposed to be the commander, he was the one to receive orders now. Yet when he heard the shouts from all the men around him, he understood right away. The message hadn't come from Guman, it was relayed from the center, from the king's position.

Alcer stumbled back, picked up the axe of the fallen warrior he had just stepped past and turned his head to his side, to further spread the king's command.

"To the king! Charge!" he didn't think twice before he followed Guman towards the front.

__________________________

More tight-lipped than usual, Herak scanned the battlefield. Even for a merchant, the little king was quite clever. As Herak's shots had gotten more and more accurate, the bear of Borna had pinned down the little king behind his guards. All he needed was a single slip-up from his foe to get his revenge for all the evils that had befallen him back in Borna, to make up for all his shame and loss. As a nice aside, he would even be able to fulfill his brother's mission and have real hope of returning home to his lands and regaining his former power as the Duke of Balit.

Once Corco was dead, the southern barbarian lords would be confused and without a leader at least for a while, more than enough time for Herak to prop up a few of them and establish a solid foothold in Medala, one they could thoroughly control. Thus, they would be able to establish a neat trade route through this little land-bridge to the mystical lands of Chutwa, where the roads were plated with gold.

However, the clever little king had realized that he would not be able to escape Herak's arrows and thus had fled to the front line, into the confused mass of Medala warriors.

Looking up from halfway down the mountain, the entire scenery seemed like an unreadable mess, but Herak had been in enough battles to decipher the situation. King Pachacutec's central warriors were being pushed back. Ever since Corco had joined the battle, they had been losing ground and were now driven down the hill. Any more of this, and they might just collapse completely. Of course, Herak could have continued to fire if he wanted to help out his allies. A few well-placed shots to take out the enemy officers would destroy the command structure the defenders had built and rob them of their momentum. Herak didn't care.

All this time, he only stood there with his bow in hand, and scanned for an opening to fire at Corco. He had traveled too far waited too long for his revenge, and he wouldn't miss his chance today. So what if they lost the war as a result? Now that he had seen their so-called allies fight, he understood that Medala was not much of a threat to Borna's plans.

Their warriors were powerful cultivators, but their equipment and even more their tactics were antiquated. If they continued to fight these bone-headed, unstructured melees, they would soon run out of cultivators, and then their entire ancient system would collapse. Further, if push came to shove, Herak was confident that he and his men could retreat without any losses, so why should he care about his allies?

*There!*

As Pacha's warriors were driven back, Herak caught a little fleck of shiny silver in between the mass of bodies, right beneath Corco's opulent new banner. Without the need for thought, he drew his bow and fired his shot. Yet before it could reach its target, the bodies shifted again and the hole was closed. Although the arrow pierced the back of his ally, it only elicited a low growl of discontent from Herak. While his eyes resumed their search for an opening, he drew another arrow from his back.

__________________________

Even when he saw his troops get pushed back, Pacha didn't get worried. He knew how to turn the tide of battle. All this while, he was only focused on the purple banner in the distance. As soon as the enemy commander was dead, the defenders would collapse – as would the entire south – and the war would be over. With the southern lords scattered, he could pass the Narrow Sea and swallow the entire south. From any point of view, there was nothing more important than his revenge. Thus he pressed on.

His axe swung a large circle around his body and threw the defenders to the side like paper dolls. Even with only his left, the hero king was still stronger than most everyone on the battlefield. Not to mention, half of Corco's troops were pitiful mortals who could offer zero resistance to his might.

As Pacha drove through the southern rows like a nail, his men gathered around him and followed. For the first time, he could make use of all the tactics he had learned over the years in the palace and his heart jumped in exhilaration.

Pacha, could feel I: Rather than a sterile dueling arena, the midst of a chaotic battlefield was his home more than any other. From time to time, he would slow down to gather his men, or send them out in various directions to reinforce his line and support his push. Yet he never lost focus of his goal. His will fixed on a singular point, Pacha pressed on towards the southern king's banner in the distance.

*No more tricks, nephew. I hope you will offer good counter this time.*

__________________________

With increasing worry, Tama watched the armies buckle as they smashed against each other. From above, the two armies looked like the rough sea. Wave upon wave, they armies collided and splintered into small whirlpools and large streams. Around her, more and more injured were dragged from the battlefield and towards the back, where their remaining doctors were already waiting to treat them with whatever supplies they had left.

The smell of gunpowder and blood had long mixed and covered the entire incline. Even so, the delicate girl remained at her post. Although she wasn't any kind of great general, she didn't need to be. Her orders were simple: Every time she saw a section of the wall get broken through, she mobilized another portion of their reserves and tasked them to drive back the attackers.

However, by now more and more of the space behind her had become empty; they were running out of reserves to throw into battle. Only a bit longer and all their men would be invested into the war. She tried to look as indifferent as possible as she counted the few remaining rows of warriors. Tama really had no idea what to do once they ran out. In hope of a fast end to the fighting, she looked past the reserves and into the sun halfway hidden behind the horizon.

Maybe once night fell, King Pacha's hordes would call off their attack. The northerners had rushed after them, attacked the walls without a break and fought uphill all day. They should have been exhausted a long time ago. Maybe the loss of light would be what drove them over the edge and forced Pacha to retreat for the day. If only they could hold on a bit longer, maybe that would be enough. After all, they didn't need to win. They only needed to hold out.

*What's the point in flights of fancy? Whatever the outcome, we will all know soon enough. *

She wanted to return her view to the front, always in search of more bad news to react to, but then she saw an impossible sign in the distance that stopped her in her tracks.

High above the sun and to its left, Tama could see a small red star rise into the early night sky. Like a beacon of hope, it stood between the dim stars of late evening and dominated them with its brightness for a while, before it fizzled out and disappeared without a trace.

Despite its supernatural appearance, Tama had seen this sort of signal several times before. It was one of Saniya's new inventions and one she, as the head of Corco's new information department, was more than familiar with: A signal flare from the east, the sign that her brother Fadelio was safe, and that Dedrick's army would soon come to reinforce them! Now there was no more reason to stand and fight. A deep breath escaped her lungs, but her chest still felt tight. Their army would still have to disengage and get away, and her master's fate was still unknown.

"Call upon all troops!" she shouted to the ghost besides her. "Tell them of our victory and order a retreat of all men! The final reserves will cover our actions!"

As her ghosts disappeared to carry the good news to the front line, Tama looked back towards the center of the battle field, and her brows furrowed. Her eyes flitted to and fro without rest, but in the twilight, she failed find the goal of her search. Somewhere within this mess, Corco was still fighting for his life.

"Be safe," she whispered. "It is time to go home."

__________________________
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Just two rows from the absolute front, Corco stood and tried to catch his breath. Moments before, he had still led the formation, but he and his men had installed an implicit system of rotation so they wouldn't run out of gas too quickly. Although the king had stayed a bit behind the front of the battle at this moment, the stink of war was still everywhere. After the initial rush, his blood had soon cooled and he realized just what he had been doing. What nonsense plan was 'let's get the fucking archer'?

Anyways, now that he had regained his whatever counted for sanity in his head, he realized that Herak, or his head, wasn't important. He wasn't even the central army's commander, so what was the point in fighting him specifically, even more so at the risk of Corco's own well-being? As soon as he realized, he wanted to just retreat back – covered by his warriors – and organize their defense from a safer distance.

However, when he saw the looks from the southern soldiers, he changed his mind. All across the battlefield, his charge seemed to have inspired a strange dependence on him, as others stared at him like he was their savior. If he retreated by himself, their entire line might collapse. Although he wasn't comfortable with the burden, he wouldn't have his people suffer just because he was scared.

By now, he didn't consider his own safety, or Herak's punishment, but instead, he only wanted to lead his people and make sure as many as possible would survive the war. Plus, while this wasn't Corco's first battlefield, it was the first time he was this much in the thick of things. If his soldiers were to suffer, so would he.

After Corco's breath was steady again, he aimed to rejoin the front line, still surrounded by his guards. As he stepped up to take responsibility for his actions, he brushed past a soldier, identifiable as one of his own Saniya troops from his light uniform, and gave him an encouraging nod. These commoners were the people he wanted to fight for more than anyone. Hadn't that been his goal from the very start, to create a world where they could thrive?

Just as he was about to reach the first line of defense, not far in the distance Corco spotted a giant figure. Despite the chaos of war which obscured his view, it was a miracle he hadn't noticed it sooner. Over two meters tall, a giant axe in hand and illuminated by sunlight from the east, there stood his Uncle Pacha like the warrior of legends he had always pretended to be, as if cast from gold and with an immortal shine.

Corco, of course, never cared much for legends and immortals. He had beaten his brawny uncle before, and he could do it again. This time would be the last, an early end to the pretender's rule and life.

Almost as soon as Corco found Pacha, Pacha turned his head and saw Corco. Once he had noticed his arch rival, the giant threw off the southern warrior who had held onto his shield and stared back, the fire of the sun in his eyes. Corco himself bared his teeth in a wide grin that would be considered enlightened by no one.

*Last round.*

Although Corco was eager to end their feud, he hadn't made made his first step when he was held back by the shoulder. One of his warriors had grabbed him and shouted into his ear as soon as he got his king's attention, before Corco could even complain about the interference. Finally, the news had reached him: Fadelio was safe and it was time to retreat. No matter how much he would have loved to have his final showdown with Pacha here and now, the lives of his soldiers were more important than his enjoyment.

"Group up!" he shouted. "Pull back to the crest of the hill and reform the line!" Just as before, countless voices repeated his command and carried his word over the entire battlefield. Just before he turned to leave, Corco looked back to his uncle Pacha, who still stared at him without blinking, as if he was obsessed.

After a friendly smile and a wave goodbye to his distant relative, Corco lead the retreat. Whatever Pacha had planned, his exhausted men wouldn't be able to follow the southern army this time, not right away. Although they might chase them once more in due time, for now, the battle would be over.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

205 Failed Ambition

For hours, Pacha's hand had grasped his axe and his eyes had been focused towards his enemies, towards the east. However, there was no more strength in either. Even though the southerners had already disappeared across the hills and begun their march back home, the hero king still couldn't pull his eyes away from the leftovers of the little wall that had held them off for so long.

"King Pachacutec." All this time, his attendant had quietly stayed by his side, but now he had decided to interrupt.

"What?" the king barked back. Just as he spoke, careful steps in the snow informed him of the arrival of a second servant, but he was still unhappy.

"What do you want?" he asked the newcomer who had come from across the hill. "Speak."

"This servant is here to report, King Pachacutec. The battlefield has been cleaned up," the servant said with a respectful bow. "The dead and injured have been dealt with. The men are well-fed and have also rested for a good while."

"Truly!?" At once, the king's expression returned to life as his face shot over to his surprised attendant. As he realized his overreaction, Pacha coughed to hide the awkward moment. "This king was lost in thought and did not notice the passage of time. Tell the men to get ready at once! As soon as we have regrouped the army, we are chasing after the southerners! If we move right away, we will still be able to catch them before they reach the border. We do not even need strive for victory. So long as we can slow them down, my uncle will soon arrive with reinforcements, and then we will still have a crucial advantage in numbers."

After another bow, the servant turned to leave again.

"Don't worry, Corco. This war is long from over." The king's eyes narrowed as he once again looked at the eastern night sky in the distance. At the end of the battle, the retreat of the southerners had been too fast and too organized. Chasing after them without any intelligence or order of their own would have only cost Pacha countless men, especially after they had already been on the march or in fights for an entire day.

However, now his warriors were rested enough for one final push, or so Pacha thought. His men needed proper sleep rather than just a bit of rest, that much the king knew. But sleep was a luxury they had to go without for a while. Once Pacha had won his war, they could rest as much as they wanted, in this life or the next.

Thoughts of the future reminded Pacha of something important that had slipped his mind in his apathy.

"Wait one moment!" he called back the servant. "have we properly searched the battlefield?"

"Searched, King? Most of our men are accounted for, so an extensive search effort will not be necessary."

"No, not for men! For weapons," the disgruntled king shouted while his eyes scanned the darkened hill. How could his servants have this little sense? "You put together a team and collect every single firearm left on the battlefield. Even Corco's worthless commoners could put up such stiff resistance with the help of these weapons, imagine what we could do if we were to copy them?"

Of course, ranged weapons would always be considered less honorable by the majority of warriors, except for the few strange archers who were always considered outsiders within the warrior community. However, the king had decided to oppose destiny and didn't have time to consider their feelings. Whatever he could use to strengthen his chances, he would wring it out to the last, tradition be damned.

"Of course, King Pachacutec. This servant will obey."

Once the warrior had left again to do his duties, Pacha aimed to cross the hill for the first time since the end of the battle. All this time, he had remained rooted on the spot, Corco's final, cocky grin burned into his memories. He had felt inadequate again, like a loser.

Now however, it was time to move again. There was no time to feel sorry for himself; he still had a chance to win the war. As soon as he made the decision, Pacha's steps carried him towards the camp his men had erected. Since he was the only lord with any sense in this army, he would go to the warriors himself, and he would personally help with their reorganization. If they only started to rebuild their army structure once they were on the march, they would be far less efficient in their next big engagement against Corco. That couldn't happen, at any cost.

"Servant number one, tell me about our losses, and about those of the southerners." Without turning his head, the king knew that his attendant had kept pace with him. After all, he hadn't left the king's side all this time, even when he had just stood still by himself.

After the servant acknowledged the command, he began to list from memory.

"Our preliminary numbers have been counted and they appear quite severe. We have lost around four thousand nine hundred men overall."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"What does that mean, 'overall'? How could it be this many?" Pacha's eyes went large in panic. When he had been in the thick of battle, the war had felt quite even. Had they been at this much of a disadvantage?

"The numbers include the dead skirmishers."

"Why would you include the commoners?" Pacha raged. He had almost had a heart attack at the thought that he might have lost a sixth of his army in his reckless charge up the hill. "Who cares about the commoners? We have an infinite supply of those back at home. Only tell me about the real losses."

"Yes, King Pachacutec." If the attendant cared about the lives of the mortals, he didn't show any of his concern in his cold voice.

"The commoners make up a bit over two thousand of our total casualties. The rest are warriors with some level of cultivation. As such, a total of two thousand and eight hundred of our warriors are either dead, or injured too heavily to contribute in the upcoming battle. The losses on the enemy side are a bit harder to count since they took a good few of their injured with them when they retreated. However, if the dead and dying are any indication, they would have lost around two thousand men as well, maybe slightly less. Since their retreat was so abrupt, they had to leave behind the more heavily injured men, so we ended up taking them in. So far, they are held apart from our injured and will serve as prisoners. We have also captured southern warriors on the battlefield, but only a handful, seven to be precise. We expect that a few of ours have also gotten into the hands of the southerners in the chaos of the battlefield."

"We will arrange a mutual exchange once the war is over. For now, keep them away from any valuable information and make sure they do not starve to death. Oh, and let the doctors see to their injured. With the backwards nature of the south, there is no chance they have received appropriate medical attention before. We cannot have them die like this, they are valuable assets during negotiations."

By now, Pacha had regained his peace of mind. With the servant's explanation, he understood that their losses were a lot less severe than he had first feared. Overall, they hadn't lost even close to one in ten men, and Corco himself had also suffered quite a bit.

Of course, it was all relative. Not only were Pacha's total losses greater than Corco's, he had also lost exclusively warriors. Most of the south's dead and injured were simple commoners who had been armed with modern weapons, easy to replace and quick to train up. In comparison, training a good warrior for combat would take a lifetime, so every warrior who fell would mean a permanent loss for his army. It was just another reason why he had decided to focus his efforts on Corco's new weapons.

Once the king and his attendant had crested the hill and passed the leftovers of the snow wall, Pacha could see the temporary camp of mostly tents his men had erected on top of Corco's abandoned outpost. The southerners had left on short notice, so a lot of useful materials had remained for them to cannibalize.

When they entered the camp, there was a reverence in the air that felt strange to him. His warriors had always bowed when they saw their king, but now they did so much deeper than before. Maybe his actions during battle had made them see the light and they recognized his greatness. Pacha however didn't care. He had work to do.

As soon as he arrived at the command tent, he received more detailed information on their losses, so he could begin the restructuring efforts. He appointed new officers to rebuild the crumbling command and intelligence structures and recombined the troops that had received the heaviest losses to bring them back to full strength. All throughout his efforts, the warriors were proactive and willing in their execution. It was as if they could finally see the hero king he had always been.

Although many had called him by that title before, he understood that most of them had only paid lip-service. Behind his back, they would consider him an unripe brat, or even a loser after he had been defeated by Corco. Now that war was upon them, his subordinates could finally see Pacha's effort, his brilliance in battle and his competence in the command tent. Strength would always bend the knees of lesser men.

As he worked and communicated with his subordinates, he also understood that his men saw the last battle by no means as a defeat. After all, they had caused heavy losses to an army that had previously appeared invincible and they had forced the southerners to flee back home like beaten dogs. Even though he might not be able to fulfill his original goal and wipe out Corco's army – even less take over the entire southern kingdom – that goal had only ever been his. After the southerners had invaded the north, most lords and their warriors had only hoped to remove the southern invaders from their lands. In that sense, the battle had been a resounding success.

Still, for the hero king, this much was hardly enough. Just as he was bent over a map to determine the best route to catch up to Corco's troops and force one final, decisive engagement, a familiar face entered his command tent.

"Official Uroa d'Ichilia greets King Pachacutec." Although he hadn't known the man's name before, he was one of his uncle's envoys who had come to visit him before his big battle against Corco. After the previous official had been so disrespectful during their last meeting, it appeared his uncle Divitius had drawn the right conclusions and replaced his chief negotiator.

"Speak, where is my uncle's army? How long until he can join up with us?" Since he was in a rush, Pacha didn't have time to waste on pleasantries, so he looked back down at the map to continue his work. Without information on his uncle's movements, he couldn't plan their next attack. After the servant hadn't answered for several seconds, an impatient Pacha looked back up again and stared into the envoy's awkward face.

"What is it? Speak, servant!"

Although he flinched back from the king's power, the servant breathed out to calm himself and then described his plight in a trembling voice.

"Lord Ichilia will not be able to join King Pachacutec in battle."

"What!?" Pacha threw the maps to the side and rushed over to grasp the servant by his robes. The hapless envoy didn't even try to resist as he shook like leaves in an autumn storm. "What does that mean!? Has my uncle decided to go back on his word!? Does he intend to betray me!?" "No, nothing of the sort!" the servant's head shook like a rattle drum. He would know his fate if he had come to inform King Pacha of another betrayal, so he spoke as quickly as he could. "Lord Ichilia had every intention to aid King Pachacutec. However, not long after King sent his request for reinforcements, two lords of the central kingdom betrayed our cause and declared their allegiance to King Amautu of the northern kingdom. Since Lord Ichilia has always held close ties with these estates, he has been forced to redirect his armies north to prevent the hostile invasion from the northern forces."

Pacha no longer raged, and weakened his grip on the servant.

"Who? Which lords betrayed us this time?" he growled in a low voice

"Lords Instea and Gratidia."

This time, he didn't explode. Instead, Pacha walked around the room and brooded over the development. The territories of two lords were positioned upstream from Huaylas, along the southern bank of the Argu river. If Amautu controlled even just one of these estates, he would control an entire section of the river and gained the ability to interrupt all trade between Arguna and Huaylas. No wonder his uncle was panicked.

As for the 'close relations' the servant mentioned? Pacha could only sneer. The two lords had always been on the periphery of House Ichilia's sphere of influence and had been no doubt eager to break free from the harsh control of Huaylas. Although he should be happy that House Ichilia's power in his kingdom was weakened, he realized what this meant for his own campaign. As he thought back to that disgusting grin, Pacha's blood began to boil once more.

"Useless bastards! Every last one!"

He wasn't sure if the northern attack was the result of a deliberate cooperation between Corco and Amautu or if his second brother had just been opportunistic, but now all of his plans were ruined. With endless resentment, the hero king stared at the maps strewn on the ground. No matter how much he wished otherwise, he wouldn't be able to prevent the retreat of the strengthened southern troops. Without his uncle to support him, the war was over, whether he wanted or not.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

206 Reunion

Once the banners of his own house had appeared in the distance, jubilation had broken out among Corco's troops. As soon as the camp with the giant army beneath the banners was revealed, their own shouts of victory were mirrored by those of their allies. For the first time since Corco's landing in the north, the entire southern army was together again.

A few hours earlier, Tama's spies had informed them that Pacha's army wasn't in pursuit. For whatever reason, his uncle had decided to stay behind and not try his luck again. Although they had fought throughout the day and had marched throughout the night; although everyone was exhausted to the limit, they were all elated. Now that they had reached their allies, they were safe. So long as they didn't waste days in one place, they would make it back home. The war was over.

Not long after, the exhausted expedition army joined their reinforcements in the camp as two armies became one. Once the king entered into the camp's crude palisade walls, several people awaited him at the head of the reinforcements. First among them was Dedrick, right where Corco had left him, in charge of his second army. Unlike his cagey appearance from the last time they had met, now the mercenary knight had an uncharacteristic levity about his actions. Maybe the chance to lead such a large force - like a proper noble - had done his ego some good.

"Welcome back, boss." Dedrick smiled.

"Yeah, thanks." The king nodded as he walked past his subordinate who followed without another word. His goal was the large command tent in the center of the camp, to catch up with his subordinate. During his march and very much against his will, he was followed by a whole entourage of southern lords. Whether they were eager or not, all of them had to congratulate the king on his victory.

"King Corcopaca, what great fortune that you are safe and sound." With clenched teeth, Lord Rafun bowed his head to his nominal king. Even after all their success, he still couldn't admit that Corco had won the war and only talked about bare survival.

"Indeed," another lord added. "It was truly great luck that King managed to escape from the armies of the central kingdom."

"Oh, are you implying that I lost and barely managed to escape? That I'm lucky to still be around?" Once Corco stopped to confront them, the lords looked at each other in silence.

"What, were you expecting me to conquer the entire north with those few thousand warriors you have me? Or maybe you want to ask for compensation cause I lost a few of your men while I was defending your lands, is that it?"

Although the lords had clearly aimed to weaken the impact of Corco's victory with empty words, none of them dared speak once the king had exposed their goals.

"I get what you're worried about, you think I'm trying to leverage my win and take authority away from you. It's fine though, I won't force my way into your territories even if you admit that I did something right for once. I don't care much for your political games, to be honest. Plus, I barely have enough administrators to handle of my own lands, what would I even do with yours? I'll just be happy if we can focus on some internal development for now, far away from any war."

At Corco's final wish, the lords looked at each other again, this time with cramped faces. Right after, they all focused on the three Villca brothers who had walked together, to Corco's great surprise. While Guachimine was as unreadable as ever, Uchu looked uncomfortable, while Pahuac looked downright furious.

"King Corco," Uchu said. "How good that you are back. We will need your support soon. You should not have forgotten your promise at the start of the war."

"Of course not. All in due time."

While they were walking, Corco had reached the center of the camp, right before the large command tent.

"We'll talk about your issues later. First, I'll get caught up on everything. If you excuse me, from here on, we're going with Pluritac people only."

"The king needs to catch up with his servants, or he will not be able to make any important decisions," Tama added with a bow. "This servant excuses her inadequacies and begs the lords to practice patience."

The brothers looked at each other, before Pahuac stepped up again, still unconvinced. However, he was held back by Corco's guards who remained outside the tent. Whatever important business the Villcas had with Corco, he could always listen to them later. After weeks behind enemy lines, he was more interested in the fate of his own people. Thus, he asked Dedrick the most important question on his mind before he had even entered the tent.

"What's going on with Fadelio and the craftsmen? Did you make sure they're safe before you came here?"

"No worries, boss. The commoners should already be in Qarasi Castle by now. Though the mountain giant insisted on staying to wait for you."

"Brother!" After the shout, a shadow rushed past Corco. Before anyone could react, Tama had stormed through the room and clasped her arms around her brother who had waited inside. Completely out of character for the person Corco had come to know, the girl still held on to her brother when the king arrived as well.

"Master," a cramped Fadelio said.

"Fadelio. You look lively. That's good." Just like his servant, Corco was quite awkward as well. It had been a long time since the two old friends had last met. Ever since Fadelio had gone off on his own and decided to split the Medala Empire into kingdoms by himself, Corco had been forced to punish his attendant and keep him far away from his center of power. For as long as Corco could remember, the last year had been the longest time they had spent apart. However, when Fadelio had gone over the line back then, it had created an invisible rift that was still between them.

"Yes, I'm well."

"Hey, can you guys do this somewhere else? This couldn't be any more awkward. We've won, so it's time to celebrate and drink ourselves to death. You guys like banquets, right? Don't pretend, I know you people love those things!" Dedrick rolled his eyes before he clapped his hands together. Right away, a bunch of mercenaries showed up and brought some dried fruits and wine to lighten the mood.

Now out of sight of his lords and unfamiliar subordinates for once, Corco let loose. His crown thrown in some far-off corner of the room. the king began to massage his temples, rubbed sore from the hard bronze crown. Next, he threw away his heavy boots, put his legs on the table and began to fill cups of wine for himself and everyone else in the room.

He hadn't felt this free ever since he had gone on the campaign, maybe longer. All this time, he had been forced into the tight role of a reliable ruler, and all this time he had been mostly on his own, with no support from his friends. Although Tama had been with him, they had been as good as strangers when she had taken over the role as his attendant. In comparison, people like Dedrick and Fadelio had spent his toughest years with him, and were those he would be most comfortable around. Though of course, by now, Tama could be considered part of that inner circle as well.

"Master, thank you," she said as she brought her brother over and sat across from him, with a smile that seemed freer and more genuine than anything he had ever seen from her. Of course, he understood what she meant. Right this moment, she was just glad to have her elder brother back. Somehow, the moment reminded Corco of the past, and somehow, all awkwardness had left him.

"No need to thank me," he smiled. "He's my friend as well."

"Laqhis." Fadelio said, his shoulders still stiff.

"Welcome back." Corco held out a cup of wine for his friend. "And well done."

"About damn time. Hemming and hawing like women, the lot of you." As he grabbed a cup for himself, Dedrick also took a seat. Soon, the atmosphere had relaxed a bit and Corco's inner circle began discussions again.

"Indeed, the craftsmen are already at Qarasi," Fadelio confirmed Dedrick's earlier comment. "They might be a bit shaken up from the experience, but it shouldn't affect our reputation with the commoners in Arguna. With any luck, Pacha will do his best to cover up his loss, so there is a real chance no one will ever hear about their grueling trip. Even if he doesn't though, it's not a big problem. At least so long as our commoners don't send back any messages right away. By the time the story of their rough journey spreads to the north, we will have recruited our second batch already, and they will travel in a much smoother fashion should the peace negotiations go our way. We should ask King Pacha to allow free movement of his craftsmen and merchants at that time."

"Yeah, I was thinking about a clause like that. No need to remind me," Corco said. He already had his demands for a peace deal with Pacha mapped out in his head. "Seriously, I get that you're worried and want the best for me and the country, but sometimes your advice feels pretty patronizing. I know what I'm doing, most of the time. This sort of advice feels shit to get, and most importantly, I need to punish you again every time you openly contradict me like this. Go take some hints from your sister. She knows what she's doing."

With a serious face, Fadelio nodded. "It seems like you have gotten along quite well."

"King Corco has been very patient with me." Tama smiled at Corco, but the king only rolled his eyes. He didn't want to repeat what Tama had done to her reputation and dampen the mood, so he changed topics instead.

"So, on the topic of people doing things by themselves, can someone explain to me why the Ichilia army turned around all of a sudden? I'm glad we didn't have to fight another battle against Pacha, but I'd rather know the whole story before we get into negotiations."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

In truth, there wasn't a huge difference in outcome even if the Ichilia army had come south. They would only have to fight a retreating battle either way. With Ichilia's intervention, they might have lost a few extra troops in the process, but they still would have made it back south. Rather than reply, Dedrick and Fadelio looked at each other to see who would share the news. In the end it was Corco's attendant who explained the details to his master, just like in the past.

"That should have been Brym's work, and Inti's. Back when I was still in Rimas, I heard that he was already in secret negotiations with King Amautu. It seems they reached an agreement with the northern king. At least Amautu came to our aid at a crucial moment."

"So we have a new ally?" Corco was surprised.

"Not quite, but at least House Ichilia will be focused on the northern kingdom for a while. That gives us some much needed breathing room."

"The kid's done really well this time," Dedrick added.

"Yeah, I'm shocked. They are growing up so fast." Corco wiped away an invisible tear. "Brym's really been on his own for too long. As soon as he has the new shop established in Arguna, he should come to Saniya already. It's about time we get everyone back together."

"Though they have done rather well by themselves, I've heard," Fadelio said.

"True. Atau made connections with some foreign countries so we won't be as dependent on grain from the north any more; and he also dealt with the Bornish fleet in the east. Plus, Ronnie cleaned up Saniya nicely, so we have our backs secure."

He looked at Dedrick as he mentioned the last part, but the mercenary only rolled his eyes and threw his hand over his shoulder. Considering the ambitions of Mason and Nahlen, the mercenary knight was probably glad to be rid of the pests, so there would be no bad blood between him and Ronnie or Tama.

"So, with that, we finally have some peace and quiet, right? Let the northerners battle it out for a bit, while we go upgrade our domestic skill tree."

His head filled with thoughts of city simulations, Corco rubbed his hands together. Yet again, Dedrick and Fadelio exchanged looks. This time however, they didn't appear nearly as excited. In fact, they seemed a bit awkward.

"There is somewhat of an issue," Fadelio said in the end, much vaguer than before. "We still need to make good on our promise to the Villcas."

"Yeah, I've already seen them outside. They looked anxious, but winning back Cashan shouldn't be too much of a problem, right? We can just do that on the way back, before the army disbands. What's the problem, are they fighting over who will be the next lord? That's not our issue anyways, let them handle it."

"It's not that." Since he had only just returned himself, Fadelio motioned for Dedrick to continue with the details.

"After we moved out from Qarasi and while the south was undefended, there were some... defections."

"What!? Who'd be dumb enough to betray us?" Corco was baffled. The southern lords were already isolated from everyone else, and every important territory in the south was either firmly in Corco's grasp, or controlled by someone related to him by blood.

"It's House Vareo and the two adjacent territories around Port Ulta, from what we heard. As soon as our troops left for the north, they suddenly came from the east and lifted the weakened siege on Cashan. As soon as they achieved their goal, they disappeared back east. They took Epunamo Villca with them... and according to the intelligence from the Villca brothers, their warriors were using muskets and cannons when they fought."

"Fuck me..." From one moment to the next, Corco's good mood had completely disappeared. It seemed like some of the southern lords had found a strong new backer. Whatever was going on, his long-sought peaceful times were still far away.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

207 Forceful Negotiations End of Book 4

Once again, Atau had been forced to play the role of a diplomat. However, this time he felt much more comfortable with his responsibilities. This time, he didn't have to negotiate some fragile alliance between lords; and he didn't have to pick between any number of Villca heirs either. This time, the negotiations were about war, and he was here to intimidate people.

\"Official Atau, what great fortune to meet once again.\" Across from Atau sat Lord Vareo, who looked smug as he pretended politeness. What a great feeling it must have been for Port Ulta's ruler to lord it over the man who had slighted him in the past. Even more so now that he would feel safe. After all, they had met within the salon of Vareo's private mansion inside his own city; and while Atau had come alone, Vareo was backed by a host of guards and guests who stood at attention behind his seat.

\"Yes, it sure has been a while, Lord Vareo.\" Atau narrowed his eyes as he ignored the known and unknown faces meant to intimidate him. \"You don't have the guts to meet with the representative of your king in even a neutral location, is that how it is? We had to meet in your own little town?\"

\"King Corcopaca might be a great military leader, but he is no great ruler. At the very least, he is not fit to be this lord's king and holds no power here.\"

\"What, you want to switch sides to the north just because one of those foreign mercenaries did something stupid on his own?\"

Rather than angry, Atau looked sour at the lord's flat rejection of Corco's influence. When they had first arrived in the south, Mason had used cannons to force Vareo into giving them supplies for their journey across the country. The little solo adventure had caused them nothing but trouble since. As far as excuses to betray the southern kingdom for a more lucrative offer went, it was indeed a good one. However, to Atau's surprise, the lord didn't rely on Mason's attack to justify his actions.

\"No need to shift blame onto a dead man, Official Atau. This lord has heard that the man you have made responsible for the incident has already received his just deserts. Though whether or not he truly was the one who launched the cowardly attack on this lord's estate remains uncleared, it matters little, as this lord is magnanimous. Such a minor incident would not force this lord to become disappointed with the southern kingdom. Starvation, however, would.\"

*So this is the angle he wants to play, huh?*

\"You're exaggerating.\" Atau tried to play down the difficulties of Port Ulta during the war. Although he had come to pick a fight, he would feel much more comfortable if he could appear righteous.

\"Sure, you didn't get to buy grain from Saniya for a bit, but we were already working hard to solve the problem at that point, and we told you as much. You only needed to be a bit more patient and your magnanimous king would have given you all the wheat and rice you needed.\"

\"And how was this lord supposed to know that Official's mission was to be a success?\" Bemused, the lord raised his cup and drank some wine, time enough to order his thoughts. No matter what, he was a traitor by all rights. He needed good excuses if he wanted to avoid exclusion from the other lords in the future.

\"For that matter, how was this lord to know that there was a mission in the first place? Could the entire search for new trade routes not have been an excuse to make the lords endure throughout the winter? All the people of Port Ulta knew for certain was the color of our grain silo's floor, and that the king's own greed and dealings with craftsmen had caused needless friction with the central kingdom. Thus, the lords of the center were not willing to sell us the grain we needed to live. When even our own king had denied us support even though he sold to others, what else were we to do than turn towards those who were still willing to supply us?\"

Since he knew that their side was in the wrong, Atau was unwilling to discuss the point further. No matter what excuses he brought up, it was true: Corco had prioritized other regions over Port Ulta and sold their limited grain to areas he could exert some control over. However, that was still no excuse for Vareo to work with foreigners.

\"Fine, Saniya won't hold this matter against you. Still, now that the grain of the southern kingdom is secured and the war is about to come to an end, Lord Vareo can once more swear his fealty to King Corcopaca. No one will judge you, and you will be treated like all the other lords within the kingdom. We will just forget about the entire incident. All you will have to do in return is to hand over Epunamo Villca.\"

Again, Atau looked at all the faces standing behind the lord. Unfortunately, he didn't find the face he was looking for, the oldest Villca heir who had hidden inside the besieged Cashan all these months and had since escaped.

\"This lord has never sworn his fealty to King Corcopaca, so there is no reason to do so 'once more'.\" Vareo laughed and sipped some more wine. The longer their conversation lasted, the more comfortable he seemed to be in his role as a rebel. \"Further, this lord does not know Lord Villca's location.\"

*Even calling him Lord Villca as if he's already the master of Cashan, huh? Looks like there is no point in playing nice anymore.*

\"You know,your two friends also never swore fealty before. Those great lords also thought they could escape the influence of the southern kingdom and stab us in the back at the crucial moment of the war. But once Corco won his battle with Pacha and came back south to hand them their reckoning, they got smart pretty quick. By the time I reached their fancy mansions with my offer, they had already changed their tune and buried me in treasures and excuses. Do you want to do the same, or do you want to see the southern army at your doorstep before you are convinced?\"

At this point, Atau really had no interest in any more nonsense. Before Corco had to release the warriors of the southern estates and thus dismiss the southern army, at least they could still have some fun with it and make up for previous mistakes. However, Vareo only laughed in the face of the threat, his languid body sprawled over his lounge chair.

\"Unlike my former allies, this lord does not fear death and would rather fight than live under control of a tyrant with no sense of justice.\" Atau wanted to explode at the self-important attitude already, but Vareo raised his hand just before the captain was about to jump up. \"Before Official offers any more empty threats to Port Ulta: The Port is not weak like the other estates in the east. We are one of the great estates of the south, no less than Cashan, and do not fear your armies. Not to mention, we have made some valuable friends in our search for grain, and this lord is convinced they will support us in times of need, even in the face of an unjust invasion.\"

For the first time since he had sat down, Atau looked out of the large, east-facing windows of the salon, towards the Arcavian ships moored in the distant harbor. Just the number of vessels here was comparable to Atau's fleet on the east coast, and from experience he knew that their cannons were even more potent than his own. Worse yet, there were many more ships like these across the Weltalic Sea, ready to get involved should a real war ever break out. Meanwhile, Atau had no way to get any more reinforcements. Although their new shipyard would soon produce its first galleons, it was built on the wrong side of the Isles and would only ever release ships into the western sea.

At last, the view of the distant fleet made Atau understand an uncomfortable truth: Whether or not Lord Vareo really was willing to work with his new masters from Arcavia, he didn't have much of a choice either way. Not with all those cannons aimed right at his head at all times. His position was different from the other lords, whose estates were situated inland. With these ships, the Arcavians had complete control over the Port, and Atau doubted they would just leave if Vareo asked them nicely.

After some strategic talks with Corco and Fadelio, he understood quite well what the Arcavians had tried to achieve with their surprise attack on Cashan. If they controlled Port Ulta and the two estates to its west, they would only need Cashan to control a complete strip of land leading from the Weltalic Sea all the way to the Narrow Sea, and eventually into the Verduic Sea and Chutwa. All this time, the Arcavians had tried to establish their own trade route to the distant west, and here was the chance to establish one they could control themselves. Better yet, it was the shortest possible land route across Yakuallpa.

This far south, even the Sallqata Mountains were much lower in altitude and thus much easier to cross. After they used the grain sales to gain control of the three crucial estates during the war, all the Arcavians had to do in order to complete their trade route was to win Cashan. Why else would they have taken Epunamo, the nominal heir to the dead Lord Villca's seat, as well as his mother and entourage?

However, Corco's swift victory had ruined their entire plans, By now, two of the three lords allied to the Arcavians had already switched sides again. Backed by their seaborne cannons, they could only hold onto Port Ulta, the final bridgehead they had managed to create within Medala.

As such, Atau understood that Vareo, just like Epunamo, was little more than a puppet for them. The important people were standing behind him, quite literally. Again Atau looked past his negotiation partner's seat, where he found two old-familiar faces stand among the crowd of observers. Unlike all the guards and servants, they didn't look in awe of the local lord whose guests they played.

\"Devaerter, Margrave Hakon of Padrava. Long time no see.\" Both of them were old acquaintances of Corco's group. Back during their time in Arcavia, Margrave Hakon had helped them fleece Duke Herak before they left for Medala. Their relationship with Devaerter was even closer. During their days as the Fastgrade Merchants, they had been allies with the merchant from Etra for years and had shared both hardship and profits.

Thus, while Hakon only had a dry \"Captain Atau, what a fortunate meeting,\" to offer, Devaerter looked much more uncomfortable. Only for a second though, until the merchant hid his weakness and played friends.

\"Captain Atau, I would never have expected that we would find ourselves on opposite sides of the table. How truly regrettable. I hope this will not reflect poorly on our future relations.\"

\"Yeah, truly regrettable,\" Atau sneered. He wasn't dumb enough to believe the merchant had no idea he would be going up against his old allies when he had taken on the job as the official merchant of the Arcavian expedition. \"You remember the last time Herak tried to go up against Corco, don't you? You remember that showdown during the auction? That was Corco without an army, and we still crippled him so bad he had to travel half the world to redeem himself. You really think you will fare better this time, now that we are backed by an entire country?\"

Like a true merchant, Devaerter smiled through the threats and pretended to be troubled.

\"Captain, I really did not have much of a choice. Since both sides could not decide on a merchant to oversee the economic operations in the far west from within their ranks, the two kingdoms needed a neutral merchant of high repute instead. As the richest merchant in the entire south-west and a native of Etra, I was the most obvious choice for them. However, please believe me that it was never my intention to stand against Master Corco. With the power of Cahlia and Borna behind them, I had no choice but to take their offer. Really, what could a single merchant do when pressured by the two great kingdoms?\"

\"Yeah, sounds like you had a hard time. Though I guess the pay isn't bad.\" Atau smiled at his old friend and grasped the giant mace he had picked up on one of Devaerter's ships back in the day.

\"If nothing else, I should at least be compensated for my troubles, should I not?\" Even now, the merchant still held that unreadable smile.

\"You've always been too greedy for your own good, even back then. I'll give you some friendly advice, for old time's sake: Don't think we are pushovers just because we were nice to you when we were allies. You best crawl back to Etra as soon as you can, because you sure as death don't want to meet us as enemies.\"

With a heavy thud, the mace landed on the table between Atau and Vareo and smashed apart the plates of dried fruit. While almost everyone in the room jumped in shock, the merchant, lord and margrave remained calm. It was obvious they considered themselves untouchable.

\"I will keep the warning in mind,\" Devaerter answered with a smile that implied he wouldn't. By now, Atau understood that neither offers nor threats would lead anywhere. No matter what, the Arcavians were determined to cling onto Port Ulta, and Vareo was determined to help them.

*What a waste of time,* he thought as he stood up and shouldered his mace.

\"Treasure your time in your little port town,\" Atau said to the three as he turned to leave, \"it won't be around much longer.\"

Hermit's Notes: I guess this might end up serving as the epilogue to book 4, maybe. It wraps things up better and leaves fewer open questions while retaining tension. The two 'new' characters are from Book 1 by the way. I make special reference to the auction towards the end of that book.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

208 Trade Trouble

The shadows of the forest were a heavy black, but Felian Northdale had seen plenty of dark forests in Borna. Rather than fear, all he felt was boredom, that and soreness from the uncomfortable wagon. He really couldn't believe his bad luck. Back when they had been sent to this rich, exotic country to establish a trade route to the far-off lands of Chutwa, the knight had thought he would have an easier time of things.

After all, they hadn't brought an army, but just barely enough men to protect their fleet docked at Porcero's harbor. Before their arrival, he thought they would just stay in some trade port along the coast line. While he would enjoy the foreign wine, sun and women, he would get up from time to time to protect their merchants as they sailed from Arcavia to Medala and back. Meanwhile, Duke Herak and the merchants would be the ones to do all the hard work in long negotiations with the local nobility.

However, once their ships arrived in Porcero, they soon realized that the situation in Medala was much more complicated than any of them had imagined. The distant land had lost its emperor not long ago, but by now they had expected a new emperor to be elected, and one who would either have the support of Bornish merchants, or the support of Cahlian ones.

Yet neither of the two successors had climbed the throne. Instead, the empire was split into three kingdoms, with three different kings. While two of them were still not hostile towards Bornish interests, the last one was an old acquaintance. Suffice it to say, the King of the South had no good thoughts to spare for Felian's master, Duke Herak of Balit. The great seer Corcopaca Fastgrade, wealthy and powerful head of the Fastgrade Merchant Company, had somehow become the King of the South after he had left for Medala less than a year earlier. Worse yet, he seemed hellbent on making their mission more difficult.

In order to secure a land route through Medala, Duke Herak had left further inland, together with a good portion of their already meager troops, to participate in a war against Corco's southern kingdom. At the same time, Margrave Hakon had taken most of their ships and sailors to the south. After a deal with one of the kings, they had received legitimacy to secure a land passage through the continent they could control themselves, without the interference of any heathen kings. All they had to do was take it, and so the eager Margrave Hakon had set off with their chief negotiator.

All of these plans were potential ways to fulfill their missions, but they had left them spread paper thin. By now, only Felian and a handful of soldiers were left to guard their first exploratory trade caravan through the strange lands of Medala. Although he had been against the hasty trip from the start, the merchants had insisted on making their gold, and not even a knight would stand in their way. While the first part of their journey had been uneventful, they had now come up to an undeveloped, primal forest. Not only was the forest said to contain demons and other inhuman beasts summoned by the people of this land, they may also house some dangerous bandits.

As if he had conjured up the trouble himself, he heard the familiar call of problems from the front.

"What was that!?" he shouted to the handful of soldiers around him as he jumped off his wagon. "Follow me. We will get to the caravan's front and make sure no one tries anything fresh with our people. We want our expedition to be a success, do we not?"

While he walked past wagon after wagon and looked into the worried faces of merchants and local hires, he once again realized just how large their caravan was. All the goods they had brought with them on their ships had to be transported by land, which created a juicy target far larger than Felian was comfortable protecting.

It appeared as if he wasn't the only one who considered them an easy target. Once he had arrived at the front, he saw himself confronted with a single man who blocked their path by just standing there in a broad stance.

Although the strange man asked a question, Felian didn't understand a word. A look behind and he found his local translator who just about caught up and was still out of breath.

"Come on," he said impatiently towards the Medala local from Porcero. "What does this one say?"

"Master, he asks if you are leader of this group."

"Tell him that I am." Felian challenged the stranger's provocative look with his own. "But Sire, we are just guards and have no proper command authority within the caravan. It's the merchants who have the say. By all right, you cannot be considered the leader." One of his soldiers seemed hell-bent on making things difficult for him, but Felian still wouldn't look away from his obstacle.

"Who cares about that now?" he asked. "We might not have any authority in the city, but right now we're in the wilderness, in front of an enemy. Who will fight me for authority in this place, even more so when I am in charge of what little military force this caravan has? Do you think any of the merchants will stretch out their necks to negotiate with the bandit?"

His men silenced, the bandit started to speak instead.

"Master, he says his name is Latrus di Saliena. He is great and honored master of the forest. He says... he is here to make the forest safe from bandits."

"That's nice, but what does he want?" Felian wrinkled his brows.

"Master please, he is still talking!"

All this time, Latrus the stranger had continued to ramble on like a waterfall.

"He says... since he keeps the forest clean of threat, he has to ask for contribution from everyone who crosses his woods."

"So he is a bandit then," Felian nodded. "Tell him that the forest belongs to no one. He is no noble, so he can't tax our caravan. Tell him to make way or we will use force."

"He says... that animals of the forest have elected him leader, so his rule is true."

For the first time in the conversation, Felian looked over to his translator.

"Are you convinced those were his words?"

Although he looked confused as well, the translator nodded and continued to relay the bandit's words.

"He says... that he requires only one or two of our wagons. Since we have many of them, we should not miss a few."

"That won't be possible." Felian narrowed his eyes and stepped forward with force. "Now, I'll say it nicely one more time. Make way, or you will die a miserable death." As he spoke, the knight drew his sword.

Although the heathen did not understand the Bornish language, he could still read the sight of a sharp blade. As soon as steel was drawn, the stranger showed a cocky grin, left a few cryptic words and ran into the bushes to the side. Before Felian could order anyone to stop him, he had already been swallowed by the primal woods.

"What was that?" Felian asked in consternation.

"Master, he says that we are free to move on. He has already collected the fee he wanted."

"Sire, terrible news!"

Felian had only left two men in the center of the convoy to calm down the merchants, and one of them was running towards him with panic in his voice and his eyes.

"What's going on? More bandits?" the knight had a terrible feeling.

"We just heard word from the local hires at the back of the convoy. While you were distracted up here, more bandits showed up around our tail and took away our two rearmost wagons. The merchants are furious."

Felian looked at the panicked soldier, before he stared back into the deep forest. No wonder the lone bandit was so calm and boisterous. This Latrus of the forest had never expected to fight them in frontal battle. All he wanted was to stall for time so the bandits could exploit the caravan's weakness elsewhere.

Still, Felian didn't care much about the two wagons. In the end, they were not the property of the Kingdom of Borna or Duke Herak, but instead the private possessions of some merchants, nothing more. While he would try to protect them in accordance with his mission, losing a few wasn't a big deal, and almost expected when he considered their lack of numbers.

As for the ire of the merchants? No matter how much they hollered, they still wouldn't be able to harm him much. After several years under the Duke, Felian knew Herak quite well. Even though some called him greedy, the martial lord would never side with some petty merchants over his own people.

Still, even though he hadn't lost anything yet, the journey hadn't started in the best way. They had only just come across the first obstacle and had already run into problems. Although there was still a long way to go, Felian had a sinking feeling that their trip wouldn't get any easier from here on out.

__________________________

"Don't let them inside! Protect the animals!" As Felian's powerful voice reminded his soldiers of their duties, the knight pointed his sword towards the far corner of their improvised fortress.

When they had seen the enemies show up in the far distance, Felian had ordered all the wagons of their caravan to be put into a circular formation and bound together with rope. Although the fort was improvised, it would be more than enough to deal with a few barbarians. To his great dismay however, the numbers before them were more than just a few.

Since the merchants had been slow to react in the far corner and had thus not managed to properly secure their vehicles before the attack began, it was the weakest point of their formation.

With axes and spears in hand, the sheer physical strength of these barbarians wrenched apart the wagons to create an opening. As soon as they were to slip inside, the enemies could use their superior numbers to pressure even the experienced Bornish knight. Already, many projectiles flew over their inadequate defenses and had cause a few injuries among their local helpers.

At least for now, the merchants, and most importantly the donkeys and the cargo, were protected, safe in the center of the formation. Felian wouldn't mind if a few of the merchants died since it would lessen his burden in the future and teach them a lesson, but every dead pack animal would reduce the transport capacity of their caravan and force them to abandon more of their cargo once they found the breathing room to escape. No doubt, this was the goal of these greedy hyenas, to harm them enough so they would leave behind some flesh to devour.

Somehow, Felian felt as if the land itself had begun to reject them, or as if there was some unspeakable curse cast over their entire expedition.

After they had left the bandit's forest without suffering from any additional bandit attacks, they were forced to cross through the ridiculous mountain range that ran through the center of Medala. All along the way, Felian barely had the time to be awed by the beauty around him. Instead, he had been forced to deal with one problem after another as they braved the the precarious mountain pass.

As soon as they had left the freezing cold and jagged cliffs behind them, the landscape had opened up into the northern plains, a warm and inviting region filled with rivers and streams, much more pleasant and much more developed than the barren east. Even during winter, their path was free from snow, so their progress had been good. Yet only one day after they had left the mountains, they had received this sort of attack.

Long before they even left Porcero, there had already been rumors of bandits from the north breaking through the defenses of Medala. With their insatiable greed, they raided villages and traders to create confusion in King Amautu's hinterland. It appeared the northern king wasn't doing a very good job of taking care of these pests.

Again, Felian turned to his soldiers and the helpers with their improvised pikes. Somehow, they had used a combination of determination, strength, and gunfire to scare back the bold attackers and close up the gap in their defenses. Just as the situation behind him was about to calm down, more noise erupted in his front as the barbarians tried to hack apart the ropes on the remaining wagons.

With a curse under his breath, the knight captain took the rest of his soldiers to take care of the new threat by himself. With any luck, they would still be able to defend their cargo, but Felian could only pray that they wouldn't lose too many men in the process. Considering their journey so far, they would need all the military force they could get on their way to Chutwa.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

209 Trade Trouble Part 2

"Please excuse this servant's inability to comply with the request. Honored guest will have to wait for a while longer until all discrepancies have been cleared up." Although the barbarian servant looked earnest and apologetic as he bowed his head, Felian wasn't convinced.

"Nonsense! You have told us the same story for days already! We have paid your taxes thrice over and you still won't let our ships leave the harbor! How much more do you want!?" Felian's fist landed on the table and made the tea spill over. Not that he cared much. The knight didn't have any interest in this strange occidental drink in the first place, and he had been stuck in this room for so long that it had grown cold and stale.

Rather than the cheap excuses or cheap tea, he was much more interested in the servant's stubborn insistence that their fleet couldn't leave the port for Chutwa. They had followed all the rules and paid all the bribes, so how were there still problems?

"Please understand this servant's difficulties, honored guest. In all other times, the only merchants who leave from this port are natives of Yakuallpa. Since the arrival of outsiders is new for us, of course the process would take much longer than usual. Since matters are so strange this time, they are not in this servant's hands."

"If not in yours, whose hands are they in?" Felian scoffed. Although the foreigner understood the proper Arcavian language and Felian didn't have to rely on a translator for once, it didn't make the man any more helpful. "Is your king trying to make things difficult for us because we're affiliated with Borna instead of Cahlia?"

"And if he was, what would honored guest do?" The servant still sounded friendly, but his eyes narrowed into slits. In truth, there wasn't much Felian could do, despite the unfair treatment. Although he still had a bunch of soldiers with him, they were in enemy lands now, and hopelessly outnumbered.

"You're lucky we need your help right now." The knight left an empty threat before he shooed the servant out of the room. "Since you have nothing but excuses to offer, there is no reason for you to stay here. I would like to talk with my people without your presence, so please see yourself out."

"Then this servant will excuse himself."

After King Amautu's warrior servant had bowed and left, Felian raised his hand to throw the tea set off the table. However, at the last moment, he stopped his actions. If he broke the expensive Chutwa glaze, he would only have to pay them more. Even more, anger would show his weakness and frustration would only cloud his vision. He had to calm down.

"Three days. Three days we have been stuck here for nothing," A brooding Felian said. "We have already bribed them. What more do they want?"

As he saw the knight regain his calm, the merchant next to him relaxed his shoulders. The trader had been sent as the representative trader of Borna in the Occident and was to handle negotiations during their journey. So far he had proven useless. Even during their stay here on the Medalan west coast, it had been Felian who handled all the talks. Now that the foreign servant was finally out of sight, the coward lamented their fate with a sigh.

"If only the war between King Amautu and House Ichilia had not started at the most inopportune of times, we could have taken a more direct route down the Argu River. That way, we would have traveled through King Pachacutec's land, who is our ally. There would have been no problems and we would not have needed to pay any tariffs either."

"And that route wasn't an option? I know there is a war, but even a battlefield could not be worse than this mess."

"The war along the Argu River still rages on and neither side is our ally. With his actions here, King Amautu has already proven that the northern kingdom does not support the traders of Borna. House Ichilia is not our ally either, even though they are part of the central kingdom. A fat sheep like us, we would have been swallowed whole by whatever side got to us first."

Again, Felian suppressed his anger at his helpless position.

"Even now that our ships are long loaded and waiting for us to continue westward, we can't even board until that northern king lets us go. But the new, emergency wartime tariffs these bandits are asking for this time are outrageous. If we agree to pay them, we will lose money even if we reach Chutwa. So what do we do now?"

Although Felian really wanted for them to just turn around, he knew that it wasn't an option. Duke Herak had tasked them to reach Chutwa, and the duke never had time for excuses. Another sigh escaped the merchant.

"There is not much we can do. It appears we will be forced to pay the price asked by the northern king. Since it is our first journey on this route, let us just consider it a learning experience. Even more..." As he paused for effect, the merchant's face lit up. "Sire may underestimate the value of direct trade with Chutwa goods. Even with all the difficulties so far, we still expect a grand profit from our journey. So long as we can reach our goal, the gold-plated streets of Chutwa, we will let us reap profits beyond our wildest dreams."

"Unless something else goes wrong," Felian quipped.

"No need to worry about that, sire. I have talked with the captain from Huaylas, the man responsible for the next leg of our journey. He claims to know a safe route through the Verdant Isles, one free from pirate attacks. He has sailed the same route for decades and has never run into troubles. After that, we will already be in Chutwa. Our troubles are finally behind us and soon, we will come to see the wonders of the Occident."

Somehow, the merchant's enthusiasm failed to infect Felian. Maybe it was because the knight was more worried about the well-being of his men rather than about the gold the traders had on their minds. As his frown expanded, he looked down into the puddle of tea that had done the same on the table. Even after all the reassurances, his bad feelings still hadn't vanished.

__________________________

"You were the one who said the route would be safe, is that right?" Felian stared down the useless man who called himself captain. At this point, he didn't care that the Medalan warrior didn't understand him. He just needed somewhere to vent his frustrations, and the overconfident guide of their expedition was the perfect place to start. "If your secret route is so safe, then explain this to me!"

His forceful sweep captured the close to dozen ships that had encircled their little trade fleet. The strange ships were green all over, without sails on their masts and with a dark green growth along their hulls and decks. Despite their unusual coloration, they were quite easy to overlook. After all, Felian's fleet was traveling through the Verduic Sea now. All around them was green-tinted water as far as the eye could see. Farther in the distance, a small island group overgrown by jungle was just barely visible within the green on green. No wonder they hadn't spotted the pirates before they had been surrounded.

"Ask him! Wasn't his route supposed to be secret!?" spittle flew as Felian turned to his translator, who had been just as shocked at the knight's outburst as everyone else. All this time, he had tried to retain his calm in public to avoid a panic among his men, but now even he had lost all semblance of control. While the captain could still pretend to not understand and shirk his responsibilities, the translator had no choice but to answer.

"Master, wait one moment," he said in a tiny voice and turned to the captain.

As Felian waited for the two foreigners to work out their excuses, his eye twitching throughout, he looked back over to the enemies who had given them so much trouble. A total of ten ships, that was all it had taken. They weren't even ships, really; at least not compared to the great vessels of Borna's fleet.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

At a length of maybe eighty feet and with a single short mast, these primitive things were even less impressive than the main vessels of the Whitean fleet that had been so soundly smashed apart by Borna's strength over the past few years. These barbarians weren't even armed with cannons. At most, each ship would house a few dozen soldiers and archers, tired out from all the rowing. A single Bornish galleon would be enough to hunt down and wipe out this entire pirate fleet. Yet here they were, trapped like rats by these weaklings.

"Master, he says that he has traveled here for decades and this route has always been safe. He says someone in your group gave away our location and the content of our cargo hold. It is not his fault, he says." For a moment, Felian looked at the gray-haired captain, who returned a defiant stare, one eye almost pinched closed. The knight really felt like beating the arrogance out of him right now, but it wouldn't do much other than relieve his anger. He had much more important things to do. Somehow, he managed to push down his fury by taking a deep breath.

"Tell him that we'll move on in a bit, so he should get his crew ready. And he should be aware that for future missions, he is much more replaceable than we are. Even if he thinks he is safe, backed by his lord, there are many other lords and many other captains along Medala's west coast. If he decides to slack off or make deliberate trouble for us, we can do very well with him at the bottom of the ocean. At worst, we will pay off his master as compensation."

Of course, Felian would never actually attack the old man who had seemed earnest in his work so far. Despite Herak's forceful nature, they were guests in this strange land. If they angered the locals one too many times, they might just be kicked off their islands, and then all the hard work of the past year would be for naught.

Still, the barbarian captain didn't know his apprehensions, so the knight made sure their guide would not act against them in the future. In his weak position, it was the best Felian could do to increase their chances of survival. Annoyed, he left his translator to threaten the captain and turned to the front of the ships, where the merchants were hard at work.

Huddled together in a large group, they talked among themselves, no doubt nothing but profits on their lips.

"Sir Felian!" one of them called out in faked enthusiasm, only to make all the others aware of the knight's approach as well. A curt nod from him returned the greeting, but he would much rather get to the core of the issue than waste time on fake friendships.

"What do the pirates want then? Why haven't they boarded us yet?" he asked. It was indeed strange. When the pirates had first appeared, the merchants had come together to negotiate while Felian had been off to organize his men for a desperate defense. However, even after they had been held up for a long time, they still hadn't been attacked.

"It appears Captain Tayali over there has decided to spare us."

Felian followed the merchant's hand towards the vessel opposite of theirs, and towards the man who stood with one leg on its front railing. Confidence emanated from his wide grin as he conversed with the translators of the merchants in a casual tone.

"And what does that mean, 'spare us'?" Despite the good news, Felian was suspicious

"According to Captain Tayali, he will spare our lives and not even take all our wares, so long as we surrender. We have a total of five ships loaded, and he will only take cargo from the largest three vessels. Even the ships will be spared. Now we only need to discuss whether or not to take his offer."

"And what have you decided?" Felian sneered. Although the pirate had phrased it like an offer, no one would be stupid enough to believe in free choice here. If they didn't agree, they only had one possible road to walk, and it would lead straight down the deep sea.

"After some calculations, most of us have decided to agree. After all, while the larger ships transport some bulk cargo, the most valuable goods have been put onto the smaller vessels. Even with all of the expected losses, we might still be able to run a profit, so long as there are no more problems on our way to the Occident."

"Good, at least we can still complete the mission. If their offer really is this good, what's the holdup?"

"Some of us – not me, but some – have guessed that Sir Felian's mighty troops would be able to fight back against the dirty pirates. Why would we give up our wares when we can protect them instead? That is what Sir Felian and his men are here for after all."

In response to the greedy merchant's hopeful stare, Felian did his best to hide his ever-growing derision.

"We are outnumbered at least ten to one. This is their territory and their ships are much faster and more maneuverable than our own. Even if they failed to win the initial engagement, they can always retreat and return a day later with twice the ships, or come at night when we are unprepared. With their strange ships, they are already close to invisible in the daytime. We would never see them coming. I will not fight them, no matter what the profits are. If you want to throw your lives away for some gold, I will not accompany you."

As the merchant retreated with a fake smile and some fake apologies to inform his compatriots of the unfortunate news, Felian looked over to the pirate captain to observe him more closely.

This entire chain of events seemed far too coincidental for his tastes. What sort of pirate wouldn't just take everything from them? The ships alone would be worth far more than their cargo. Somehow, he felt as if these pirates knew about the Bornish expedition, and about their goals. The way the pirate's offer worked out, they would still run a profit even with all the problems they had encountered; which would encourage his master to send even more traders in the future and sink even more money and manpower into the endeavor. It was the perfect plan for all these bandits and pirates to milk them dry en route.

At this point, Felian was convinced that they hadn't just been unlucky all this time. He had the sinking feeling that their adventures might end up being the standard Chutwa travel experience from now on.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

210 Armistice

As Corco and Fadelio strode up the hill at the edge of Lord Makipura's lands, he looked at the table that had been set up on the new border between the Kingdom of the South and Kingdom of the Center. By now, weeks had passed since his last battle against Pacha, and the snow in the north had melted.

After all the long-winded negotiations, atop this lone hill would be where he and Pacha were to sign the final peace treaty that would end the war that had lasted for two seasons. However, when Corco reached the top of the hill, he failed to find his uncle. All he saw at the lone table set up on the hill's crest was an old-familiar servant he hadn't met in a long time.

"So Pacha wouldn't come, would he?" he asked the man. While he took a seat himself, the servant stood to pay his respects.

"Greetings, King Corcopaca. This servant's name is Pallatio and will act as a proxy for King Pachacutec."

"What, my uncle couldn't come himself? Is he worried about an assassination? We've wasted so much time trying to find a meeting place both sides would agree on though." Corco touched his chin in fake thought."Or maybe he thought I'd humiliate him for losing against me, again? My good uncle Pacha should have come. I'm not that petty."

"King Pachacutec has made an oath: He will not meet King Corcopaca until he is the master of the south. However, King Corcopaca can be relieved that this servant is indeed able to serve in King Pachacutec's stead. This servant is a long-standing member of House Pluritac and thus both fully legitimized as well as honor-bound to fulfill his duties to the best of his abilities."

"Yeah, I know. I remember you." Even though it was a reunion after many years, Corco really wasn't too happy to see the veteran servant again. There weren't many good memories associated with their meetings.

"This servant is honored." Pallatio raised his brows. "Don't look so surprised. I got a good memory." As he observed the servant's reaction, he put on his well-practiced merchant's smile. "I remember quite well. Even back when my father was still around, you always stuck with Spuria and her kids and never paid much attention to me."

"This servant was only ever interested in the continued success of House Pluritac. After the attack on young master Corcopaca and his mother, young master was no longer in a state to defend the throne. Although the attack itself was vicious and unforgivable, its nature had no impact on the consequences."

"So you'd rather break with tradition and have an impostor on the throne than the rightful heir, just because he wasn't tall?" Out of turn, an angry Fadelio chimed in. Of course, the strong idiot persona he often wore in front of enemies would let him get away with these kinds of outbursts. "That doesn't sound like a very good idea. Now all the princes know they can become emperor by killing their brothers. Aren't you just inviting more poisoning and backstabbing between the Pluritac heirs in the future?"

"I would not expect the son of an upstart to understand." Even when his voice and words turned sharp like swords, Pallatio's face remained polite.

"That's enough, out of both of you," Corco interrupted before the two servants could derail his business any further. He wasn't here to listen to the power struggle between the warrior families of House Pluritac.

To his surprise, not only Fadelio, but even Pallatio calmed down as soon as he ordered them. Though he was surprised, he would make good use of the silence and ask what was on his mind.

"So, now that you've seen me fight, or at least heard the stories, do you still think I'm unfit to rule?"

"This servant is deeply gratified to see King Corcopaca fare this well despite the troubles of his youth. Yet some decisions cannot be reversed. Though it is unfortunate, the choice has been made."

He looked genuinely sorry, which elicited a deep sigh from Corco. At this point, the borders between the three kings were razor-sharp. There would be no proper alliance between any of them and no one would be able to work with more than one and expect to be treated as anything more than a traitor. Of course, an experienced, stern advisor like Pallatio would never make such a basic mistake.

When he left Arcavia, all Corco had wanted was a unified Medala Empire, so they could grow in peace and face the challenges of the future together. What he got was a divided empire of mortal enemies, embroiled in constant war. Really, the entire fatality of their position only worsened Corco's mood.

"How about we just get into the details of the contract and sign the damn thing?" he asked in a tired voice.

As his attendant handed him paper after paper and Corco began to organize the final document that had come out of the negotiations over the past few weeks, he started to paraphrase the agreement for final confirmation.

"First off, we'll exchange all the injured and dead between our sides. As per the usual ways, any imprisoned warriors who are not in imminent danger can stay in the respective territory of their captor until they are bought free for a ransom."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

This was one part of the post-war cleanup Corco was quite looking forward to. Although his battle against Pacha had ended in a retreat and they hadn't made many prisoners then, they still had many warriors left in their care from their earlier war against Rupilo, and from Dedrick's conquest of the northern encampment.

"This servant will once again note that King Pachacutec is not convinced by the medical abilities of the southern kingdom. Thus he offers to take care of the injured of the southern kingdom. For a price, of course."

As he thought about the barbaric methods Pacha's doctors might be using on his men this very moment, Corco shuddered in fright. Then his mind wandered to his group of Chutwa doctors who had managed to save an astonishing number of lives and limbs during the last war.

"No," he almost shouted, though at the last moment he managed to hold himself back and retained his pokerface. "No, that won't be necessary. They are my men, so they are my responsibility. Even if they might end up without the best help, I will just have to compensate their families. Plus, what the heck kind of price is Pacha expecting for a bit of medical assistance? Is my uncle running low on cash?"

"Very well, then this servant will no longer make mention of the offer," the servant dodged the question. "King Corcopaca, please continue to enumerate the points of the agreement, if you may."

"Well, the entire war came about because Pacha thought the merchants and craftsmen of Arguna were his personal servants somehow." Again Corco had to suppress his reaction, this time a grin. He could see the stern servant look visibly uncomfortable.

"Indeed. King Pachacutec's actions may have been somewhat rash this time. No lowly commoner should ever receive this much attention from a lord. It dirties their good name."

This time, Pacha's actions had caused some real trouble for him even among his allies. In Medala, craftsmen and merchants were considered the lowest classes of society, not even fit to contact the great lords, much less be considered servants.

At first, the craftsman issue had just been a quick and easy casus belli for Pacha, an excuse so he could conquer the south in one fell swoop. However, now that his plans had broken on the walls of Qarasi Castle, this very excuse now appeared as the real cause of the war, and it had harmed Pacha's reputation. By putting this much weight on the commoners and calling them his people, he had inadvertently raised their status to the level of peasants; or even worse, warriors.

Almost no one within the higher social classes of Pacha's kingdom would be happy with this shift in social order. Especially his warriors would be unhappy, since they didn't have much beyond their status to rely on. No wonder even Pallatio was unhappy with his master this time, as he was a warrior himself.

"From now on, the central kingdom will no longer prohibit the free movement of the low-status rabble within or throughout its borders. This issue does not need to be raised any further," the servant said as a brusque wave of his hand tried to shoo the problem away.

"Nice, nice. So... I guess that brings us to our third point on the agenda. What exactly are these borders you speak of?" Corco asked.

"King should know quite well, since the borders are set by the contract."

"Yeah, but I'd much rather hear it from you."

The servant scoffed in response to Corco's playful tone.

"King Corcopaca shall acknowledge that Lord Vareo and his estate of Port Ulta's have joined the central kingdom and will be one of King Pachacutec's subservient lands from now henceforth."

"...fine," Corco said, his good mood ruined by the servant's one-sided explanation. "You don't wanna play along and take away my fun instead, I can't change that. But you're still legitimizing our takeover of Makipura and his Tacicir region. Cause that's in the contract too."

"King Pachacutec has no interest in traitors or turncoats."

"Yeah, unless they come over to his side, huh?" Corco asked. At this point, he was just having fun with the servant who had stood against him ever since he was young. In response, the servant showed his wisdom and remained silent. Nothing he could say here would make Pacha appear in a positive light. After all, Pacha really did have a propensity for collecting all the traitors and opportunists of Medala around him.

"On the topic of turncoats, I want you to guarantee Lord Rupilo's safety. I know it's not in the contract, but in the near future, my merchants will be launching a shop in one of his towns and I'd rather not get annoyed by Pacha's meddling in the process."

Although his eyes narrowed as he thought about the issue for a moment, Pallatio still gave his agreement in the end. Corco had promised Rupilo's ruin, and he was determined to make good on his word. At this point, the southern king was about ready to close things out. Had his uncle been at the table with him, the southern king would have enjoyed watching him rage a bit longer, but the loyal servant only looked more and more dejected the longer the conversation dragged on. Even Corco was starting to feel sorry for Pacha's stand-in.

Thus, the two quickly put their seals under the final documents. In such an anticlimactic way, with only a single stamp of ink, the first war between the southern and central kingdoms had been concluded. Still, Corco had a final issue to clear up, even though it would further offend Pallatio.

"One more thing, though I'd like to avoid it: Neither the promise about Rupilo, nor the guarantee of free movement for the craftsmen can be policed by me in any way. I mean, if I start attacking Port Ulta right after we sign these papers, you will send your own people to attack Tacicir in return. That's a pretty balanced position, so we don't need any special measures to make sure we don't start killing each other again. But if you hold commoners hostage again or if you prevent the construction of my shops in your territory, there's precious little I can do about it unless I want to go to war again."

"So what does King Corcopaca suggest?"

"As luck would have it, the solution is pretty simple. I want Pacha to make a starlight oath. And I don't want just the priests present, I also want one of my own representatives there. I know he doesn't care much for tradition, but even he can't go back on his word when the loyalty of his lords depends on his integrity."

In truth, it was an audacious request. The starlight oath was an incredibly rare occurrence, a life and death oath directly to the heavens. Not even emperors would take it at the start of their rule. It would only be invoked if the oath taker was of questionable integrity. Since Corco wanted to force Pacha into the oath, the implication was that the youngest king lacked integrity and could not be trusted.

To the central king however, the starlight oath also presented a chance. Since his actions during the war had damaged his reputation with the traditional forces of Medala even further, the oath would be a chance to make up for some of his earlier mistakes. In this way, at least he would show that he respected the old rituals and was willing to degrade himself in front of the Divines. Thus, the Pluritac servant agreed without much fuss.

"In that case, will King Corcopaca follow this servant along to the capital? Surely, King would love to see his brother humiliated so."

"Ah, no worries, this isn't me trying to show off or anything." Corco had been ready to leave, but now his eyes turned sharp, for the first time in their conversation. "I've sworn this a long time ago: I won't return to Arguna; not until I've become its master."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

211 Always More Banquets

*Again. How are these people not getting tired of this shit?*

Once more, Corco found himself as part of an overblown banquet. Every damn time the great lords of Medala came together, someone had the fresh and novel idea to celebrate the occasion with another decadent feast.

Sitting on his elevated chair, his hand firmly on his cheek and his face as indifferent as he could muster, the king watched the artists in the center of the hall create colorful, meaningless shapes out of swinging canisters filled with dyed sand. As time went by, the canisters swirled around and created more and more complex forms on the ground. It was pretty but pointless, like so many fads in Medala's high society. Back in the day, this technique was supposedly used by Yaku shamans to read the future, but all Corco saw was a mess of stains on his nice wooden floor. It really was a waste of good paint, and the music didn't do a bit to improve his experience.

In classic Medala fashion, the great warriors of the south celebrated their great victory over the north with an entire orchestra. To Corco's dismay, someone had gone 'oops, all drums' and forgot to invite any of the orchestra's other instruments. The heavy beat echoed across the massive hall and made the sand on the ground dance just as much as it did the intoxicated men and women all around.

Without any regard for their standing or reputation, the lords who were drunk on power and wine indulged themselves in their baser urges and embarrassed themselves all at the same time. At least it looked like they were having fun, but they were ruining both his castle's halls as well as his treasury in the process.

However, while Corco wasn't in the mood to participate in this sort of tribalistic play, this wasn't something he could just avoid either. After all, this was the great celebration in his honor. Even before he had returned to the southern kingdom, all the lords had gushed about the great banquet that would await them in Saniya, the one to commemorate his victory against the north.

Although some lords like Ogulno and Rafun had tried to downplay Corco's achievements, excitement over the rare victory had gained the upper hand in the end. Against the wishes of the contrarians, the other lords had forced these celebrations on their young king, which also showed their relief at the first victory over the powerful north within their lifetimes.

Not that Corco was strictly opposed to the idea of celebrations per say. After all, this sort of display was necessary to show off his wealth and power and increase his influence within the southern political circle. However, after three straight days of nothing but drinking, eating and fucking, the entire image had gone pretty stale for the king. Not that he had done much of the latter either. As a king without an heir, he was forced to be picky about these things or there might be trouble with succession later.

The alcohol on offer hadn't done him much good either. Rather than indulge in various fancy spirits like the other lords, the king had only allowed himself to drink some diluted wine to stay sharp, or 'water with color', as Corco called it. If that hadn't been bad enough, his drinking companions did their best to ruin his mood further.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"King Corco, let me raise a toast in your honor! How great our host's little festivities are! They might not be as mighty as the eternal feasts of the imperial courts in Arguna, but within a few years, they may be able to overtake Puscanacra's banquets in scope!"

With a crooked grin and half-closed eyes to indicate his own inebriated state, Lord Ogulno once more stepped in front of Corco and raised his glass for another one of his toasts. Over the course of the banquet, he had done the same too many times for Corco to count. Every time, he would give a backhanded compliment or try to incite conflict between the southern king and his cousin Mayu, the Governor of the South. This time, he had done both. Not that it mattered, since Corco's answer was more than predictable.

"Thank you, Lord Ogulno. My home is small and weak, and we have no money to spare for fancy banquets, since we need to fight off our foes in the north. I really hope we will soon organize a feast befitting of a powerful warrior such as yourself." Corco forced a friendly smile onto his face and repeated the same lines he had used every time Ogulno had spoken up during the banquet. Halfway through the king's little speech, Atau – two seats down from the king's position – mumbled along with Corco, and by the time he reached the ending, half the hall had joined in to recite Corco's phrase verbatim.

Laughter and cheers erupted all around the hall as glasses collided between the joyous lords. His cheeks red from wine and embarrassment, Ogulno retreated without another word and sat back down among his own, no doubt to plot the genius quip he would unleash during his next toast.

"What is that guy even doing?" Atau asked, one hand on a goblet of wine and another around the shoulder of the pretty servant girl on his lap. "He's the only lord of the kingdom who didn't contribute to the war. Well, him and the three traitors in the east. Every other estate here fought and lost in the north, so of course he would be unpopular today. Why does Ogulno keep speaking up when he'll only embarrass himself?"

"He's a poor loser, and drunk," Corco dismissed the lord's bitter comments. Like all the other lords at the banquet, Ogulno was worried that the victory would give Corco too much political leverage and change the power structure of the south forever. Of course he was right to be worried, but that wasn't something Corco would ever admit, nor was it something that would resonate well in this kind of atmosphere.

"Still," the king added after he had taken a small sip of his stale drink, "I don't think we should let the great Lord Ogulno run around all unimpeded and drag our names through the mud again and again. Since we won't become allies any time soon, let's punish him a bit." As he readjusted some of his future strategies in his head, a grin spread on Corco's face.

"Oh, so you have a plan already?" Atau laughed at the prospect.

"Something like that." Corco had planned out some things well in advance, but by pushing them ahead of schedule and adjusting them a bit, Ogulno might end up in quite a bit of trouble. Harming his enemies wasn't a bad idea, and it would be fun as well. "There's some copper mines around Cashan, isn't there?" the king asked.

"I think so," Atau shrugged, a piece of duck meat hanging from his mouth. "I know that Olgulno is really proud of Kapra's copper resources, but Cashan has some small mines too. You really should ask someone else though, I don't care much about this stuff. Ah, though Ronnie was talking about something like that before. There were some people here a while ago who wanted to find resources for you, apparently? Once you get the time, you should ask him about it."

"Yeah... if this fucking banquet ever ends."

Again, Corco returned to his kingly duties of sipping thin wine in a bored fashion, while he watched every one else's fun. His state of misery continued until his attendant finally returned, luckily before Ogulno showed up again.

"Master, please excuse the intrusion," Fadelio said and offered a perfect bow. At this point, it was almost as if he had never left Corco's side.

"Yes, please give me a reason to escape this eternal hell," the king begged in a whisper no one else would hear.

"Master, it is time for the award ceremony to honor the soldiers of the last campaign."

For a moment, Corco only stared at his servant while his eyes grew larger and larger, until he exploded out of his seat with a loud "Yes!"

With the confused eyes of Atau on him, Corco answered in a wide grin.

"Looks like you'll have to entertain our guests by yourself. I have my duties to attend to and won't join you any longer."

"Right. I'll try my best," Atau mumbled and took another bite from a fatty piece of meat. "Won't your valued guests mind though?"

"They'll have to understand. I can't let the warriors who won us the war go without their rewards, can I? Plus, by the time these corpses wake up from their stupor, I'll be long done with my work anyways."

Atau looked over the mess in the center of the hall, where lords had begun to dance with some of the local girls on top of the sand mandala and ruined the piece of art in the process. Now it was truly abstract, just how the lords liked it. As the captain saw the mess, he only laughed and held the girl in his lap tighter.

"Right, I'll be off then," Corco said. "If Ogulno shows up again, you know what to say. Have fun, and don't overdo it. Remember that STDs are a thing."

His cousin's dismissive wave showed that he didn't really care, but Corco still made his way out of the banquet hall and down Rapra Castle without another warning. He couldn't wait to get away from all the noise of his fellow lords.

__________________________

While the banquet for the nobles had been held in the great hall, the commoners and warriors had been stuck in the plaza in the castle's front, and they had a much more muted celebration. However, that didn't mean that the mood was poor.

As the king – accompanied by his guards – marched down his castle's outer sections, the air was still filled with the same sickly smells of fatty meat as before, but at least the constant drum beats no longer maltreated his head. Instead, they had been replaced by the play of flutes, the kind of instrument one would only see from the Yaku commoners. These sounds were no surprise as most of the people on the outer plaza had been commoners not too long ago, and many still were.

When Corco arrived, the celebrations appeared a whole lot more muted than the out-of-control feast inside the castle. Rather than run all over the place, the attendees sat in small groups and talked while they sipped their wine with hesitance, rather than verve. Of course, there was still the occasional scream or boisterous laugh, but those were soon swallowed by the tension all around them once more.

Maybe it was because they knew that their king was coming or maybe it was because they celebrated right under the noses of their masters, but the commoners were much less enthusiastic in their celebrations. After days of excess, Corco much preferred their atmosphere, though he felt for the men who couldn't let loose even at a festival.

"In the end, they're people who have lived as second class citizens all their lives. No wonder they don't have the courage to celebrate," the king sighed. Wisely, Fadelio remained quiet, as did the other guards. Such dangerous words were not something anyone but the king's closest allies would be able to hear in the first place. Thus, Corco soon fixed his posture as well as his face, in an effort to hide his true feelings.

When they reached the castle's outer gates, they were greeted by a sea of fires which surrounded a large array of tables. As they marched through the crowds, Corco saw an old man sit there with a strange wooden box in his hands. Right away, the king recognized the object, but for now he would have to stick to protocol. Annoyed at the limitations of his office, he could only offer the old man a silent nod as he took his place among his guards and waited for his attendant to announce his arrival.

During this time, Fadelio had stepped up to the grand stage that had been built for this specific festival. Earlier today, the traveling folk had offered music and plays on stage, but such lowly entertainment was something the higher nobility was always opposed to. Thus, no traces of the spectacle remained for the king to see.

With only him and a few warriors atop the empty stage, Fadelio grabbed a megaphone and introduced the people to their king, before several of Corco's warriors fired blanks in the air, both to notify even the drunkest commoner of his arrival, as well as to serve as warning. After all, Corco had many enemies, an with every conflict he made more. To prevent any sudden attacks on the king, the people below the stage were held at a safe distance by a row of halberdiers. Even though the methods seemed excessive to Corco, the crowd was still excited to meet their ruler. After all the preparations were done and his safety was sufficiently secured, Corco was finally allowed to step up to the stage.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

212 A New Era

Fully decked out in expensive, purple silk robes and with the sign of his kingship atop his head, Corco appeared before his people. Down below, they awaited his words with equal parts anticipation, excitement and fear written across their faces. For a moment, Corco just stood there in a silent staring contest with the audience, before he slowly raised his hand and showed a shallow smile in greeting. In what he considered a ludicrous response, the crowd broke out in cheers and claps as if they had just met some kind of pop star.

*Maybe they're just starved of celebrities? Time to invent tabloids I guess.*

Once he had lowered his hands again and Fadelio had signaled for the crowd to calm down, the attendant began to introduce the main reason for Corco's appearance on stage.

"Tonight, we all celebrate, for we have defended our homes from the oppressors of the north! The great victory the southern kingdom's armies have achieved will be remembered for all times to come, as will those who fought to defend our lands." Despite the theatrical opening, the crowd responded with loud cheers.

"Thus, all citizens of Saniya and all warriors of the south were invited to join in on these festivities, which have been paid in full by the crown."

These people really liked their free food. Yet another round of cheers had to be waited out before Fadelio could continue.

"In this great war, many men have accomplished extraordinary feats worthy of recognition, yet every one of the kingdom's citizens deserves recognition. Thus, your great king wants to stress everyone's tireless contribution. Without the food from the farmers, the army would have had nothing to eat during their freezing marches in the north. Thanks to the craftsmen of Saniya, the soldiers had been granted the greatest weapons in the entire empire, to give them a crucial advantage in the battles against the northern forces."

Every time Fadelio mentioned another group of people, a different section of the plaza clapped.

"Most of all however, the great soldiers of the south fought tooth and nail against our enemies, and brought great pride to their ancestors. As a result of everyone's efforts, your great king, Corcopaca Primu Titu Pluritac, has decided to award special honors to the most outstanding representatives of each of these instrumental groups today. First to be awarded will be Asto, chief of Asto village. Out of any village within the Chawir marshes, Asto village managed to reclaim the largest piece of land from the barren wilderness over the past year. For his outstanding contribution in the betterment of the kingdom, he will receive the king's seal of honor, in a show of appreciation and respect."

To guarantee a smooth flow for the award ceremony, all award winners were already waiting at the foot of the stage, ready to receive their honors. Again, the muskets went off as the terrified farmer at the front of the queue stumbled his way up the steps. Even though his warriors gave each other troubled looks, Corco marched straight up to the chubby man to make his task a bit easier. With an open smile, he offered the farmer not only some warm words, but also the framed letter he had handwritten earlier, including his signature and seal. After his travels around Chawir's countryside, Ronnie had described the village chiefs as crafty and selfish, but Corco could feel nothing but reverence from the trembling, skinny hands that took the award.

The man was so overwhelmed that tears covered his eyes and he failed to even speak in front of the king. Although Corco felt as if the farmer would consider the glass in front of the frame more valuable than the paper it protected, the king didn't mind. So long as the farmer took good care of the honor, he would be greatly surprised by its value in the future. He wasn't in the habit of giving out empty honors to force loyalty, and he had great plans. Not now though. Now he had to focus on his more immediate duties. Already, the next people to receive their awards were being announced, while the old farmer was led off the stage by guards.

"The second men to receive their contributions will be blacksmith master Asiro, as well as clock maker Egidius, who have shown outstanding ability in the construction of the flintlock rifle. The weapon proved crucial in the victory over the north, and thus both men will also receive the king's seal of honor."

Corco's second meeting with his award winners was a lot more casual than the first. After all, both men were already well-acquainted with Corco, and with their unique temperaments they had never been very stiff around him in the first place.

"Again, well done," Corco said as he handed them their letters. Despite the more casual atmosphere, Corco tried to retain an official demeanor for the people in the crowd who couldn't hear his words.

"Thank you, my lord," the gruff blacksmith said and bowed his head to fit the occasion.

"You deserve it. Take good care of the letter, it might serve you well some day."

While the blacksmith had managed to show a minimum of etiquette during his meeting with the king, Egidius didn't even care about all the eyes on him. His face didn't change one bit as he took the plaque and received the handshake, but there was a strange urgency in his eyes as he spoke up out of turn.

"King Corco, we need to speak about the newest project you have tasked me with. I might need some support from an accountant or two, someone who is good with mathematics. You see, the problem-"
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Still all smiles, Corco increased the force in his hand, until Egidius winced from the pain and shut up.

"Not now," the king hissed, "I have an image to uphold, and out of both of us, I won't be the one in trouble if you fail to show respect. If you want to continue working in this city, you need to behave."

At last, the clock maker realized his mistake and shut up. He offered a stiff bow before both craftsmen left the stage. In truth, Corco himself would have much rather talked about some new inventions with Egidius, but the ceremony held important meaning to his people, to those who had always been under-appreciated by the nobles. Moreover, there were a lot more awards to hand out and Corco couldn't get hung up on every single person. He'd never finish that way.

In fact, the first three awards had been more of a show, to acknowledge the contributions of the farmers and craftsmen who had stayed at home during the war. It was Corco's attempt to prevent a huge mental divide between the soldiers and his other citizens. After all, he had just gotten rid of the class system in Saniya and he wasn't willing to replace it with a new one right away. Still, it was obvious that the soldiers had made the greatest contribution during the war, so they would receive the most awards as well. Rather than letters, he had created a system of badges for his army, to reflect the level and type of their contribution.

Thus, the various soldiers – both from Corco's own troops as well as those from the other lords – went up to meet their king and receive their honors one by one. Beginning from the lowest-ranked soldiers, anyone who had shown exceptional bravery and ability received an award. Some received promotions as well. Although they didn't have any need for this many officers for now and many weren't qualified for the positions yet, Corco had to increase the number of his troops anyways.

Pacha might have been defeated for now, but he wouldn't just give up like this. Once he had cleared up his differences with Amautu, he would soon make more trouble for the southern kingdom. Now that they held control over a piece of land within the southern kingdom, the Arcavians were a bigger threat than ever. Thus, the king was happy to promote as many people as he could so long as he had a decent excuse for it. They could receive some extra training in between wars and then learn on the job once his armies were forced into further battles.

The ceremony continued in a smooth fashion, until the ordinary soldiers had been dealt with and the captains received their awards. At first, Corco hadn't cared much and just kept giving out the badges his warriors presented to him on the fancy silk pillows, but the last badge he would award to a captain made him raise his brows.

Rather than the usual bronze and cloth badges, this one was a diamond of royal silver, fastened with purple cloth. While it wasn't quite the highest honor anyone could receive within Corco's new system, it wasn't far off. He had expected an award like this for a general, but certainly not for a simple captain. What sort of miracles had this soldier achieved to be rated this highly? With great interest, he listened to Fadelio's explanation.

"Captain Alcer. In early engagements against the raid teams of the central kingdom army, he has shown exceptional bravery. Further, he has proven a capable leader during his time in the camp, as attested by his fellow soldiers. During the two main engagements, he has shown special ability, with eighteen confirmed kills over the course of the war. Especially in the final engagement, Captain Alcer single-handedly organized and then led a counter-charge that pushed back the enemy warriors, at a time when the southern line was in dire straits. For his heroic service above and beyond his station, Captain Alcer will receive the silver diamond with purple band, and will be raised into the status of warrior, as well as receive a promotion to ensign."

Even Corco was surprised at the long list of accomplishments. At this point, he expected the warrior to be some kind of physical freak, but when he met him, Alcer appeared to be unassuming at best. In fact, the great hero's most outstanding feature was the ordinary aura around his person. Although he held up better than the farmer Corco had met first, he was still quite nervous, much unlike a man who had killed this many enemies in cold blood.

At this point, he remembered his previous orders, before Fadelio, Dedrick and Tama had begun to pick the recipients of today's awards. Back then, Corco had asked them to pick some lower-ranked soldier as an example of excellence, a hero for the other citizens to look up to as a symbol of self-sacrifice and patriotism. Although it reeked of propaganda, it would be quite an effective method to motivate the other soldiers.

"Outstanding work," Corco said, as he pinned the medal on the future hero's chest and shook his hand.

"No, great king. I... this... mortal only followed king's footsteps during the charge," the man stuttered. Although Corco didn't quite understand what Alcer was trying to say, he was still happy that the hero showed some humility. Whether or not he truly was the great leader Fadelio had introduced mattered little anyways. This one seemed humble and well-mannered, so he would do just fine to play the part of hero.

"Either way, you deserve the recognition," Corco insisted. Since he had pushed the man into a position he seemed uncomfortable with, the king was feeling generous and added, "If there is anything on your mind, you may tell me now."

"This mortal..." Although the soldier looked down, it was obvious he had something to say.

"Yes?" Corco asked, still with a smile. "Please speak freely."

"One of this mortal's old companions... uhm... his name is Killari. He fought in my... this mortals unit. He fought well for the kingdom too. But he was injured in the first big battle and... he lost a few fingers. The doctors say he can't wield a weapon any more. Maybe... if it wasn't too much hassle..."

"I can guarantee he is well taken care of," Corco concluded the captain's words.

"Thank you very much, great king. Killari thanks you too!"

After he had managed to squeeze out his thanks, the soldier just about managed to bow his head before all his remaining courage left him and he retreated off the stage. Fadelio had made a note of the soldier's request, before the ceremony continued. At least his army wasn't huge yet, and there weren't that many officers ranked above ensign. Thus, the final badges were soon handed out without any more interruptions, with the last one going to Corco's only general in the war, to his own employee.

Dedrick strode up the stage as if he didn't care about all the pomp, and looked as if he would rather have brought his wine up with him. However, the mercenary knight behaved for once and spared Corco of any more incidents.

In truth, it was somewhat unusual that none of the southern lords were present for the celebrations, but it was very much a deliberate move on Corco's part. After all, none of the lords had done anything worthy of recognition during the war. If they had been honored on stage, the commoners in the crowd would have grumbled nepotism; not during the celebrations, but definitely behind closed doors. Yet if they were to go without any honors at all, the vain lords would cry foul as well.

Since Corco wanted to show the commoners their value and opportunity within his new kingdom, he had organized this ceremony when all lords were busy getting drunk, Not one high noble would receive a badge in front of the people today. They could just get some sham awards later to still their egos and to show off in front of each other.

*Maybe I'll make up one for Ogulno and give it to him myself. That might be fun.*

Thus, the celebration ended on a good note and Corco could finally return back into his castle. Maybe now that he was freed from both banquets, he would be able to receive some rest of his own and resume all the work he had neglected during the war.

However, as he looked over the faces in the crowd – all of them with expectant eyes – the king realized that they were waiting for something more from him. As usual when he appeared in public, they would be hoping for another one of his speeches. Corco had to agree: This really was a good chance for him to give them some more guidance and motivation. These people would soon be the foundation of his kingdom, so he had to properly cultivate them, even if most weren't actual cultivators.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any address prepared this time, and his last failed speech in his battle with Rupilo had made him apprehensive of mob mentalities.

As his eyes scanned the crowd, he soon spotted something he had seen earlier on his way up the stage but had been forced to neglect. He had already requested something like this months ago, but in the face of war, his craftsmen had taken their sweet time with the more recreational projects. Once he rediscovered the old craftsman in the middle of the crowd, he moved up to Fadelio to give his instructions.

"Hey, you see that guy with the large block of wood rested on his knee, the one with the anxious look? Bring him up here."

Soon after, an old man with a trim, gray beard stood in front of the king, the over-sized music instrument still in his hands.

"I see you've met my request," Corco said with a grin on his face. Before him stood one of Saniya's few true master craftsmen; a woodworker, though he couldn't be considered a carpenter. All his life, Master Oko had created nothing but musical instruments and lived off the trade. Since the king himself was a music lover, he had become one of the master's best customers, and he had made several special requests a long time ago.

"Yes, King Corcopaca. While your request for the so-called 'clavichord' is a bit advanced and will require some more time... this mortal has already finished work on this newer, heavier Koto. This mortal hopes the sound will be to master's taste. This servant has done as described by King."

Eager to try, as if ignorant of the crowd before him, Corco sat down in front of the instrument and plucked a few of the long strings. Several warbled pings escaped and washed over the crowd that still waited in complete silence.

Not long after, Corco had gotten a feel for the instrument and began to play a sound no one in this world had ever heard before. Rather than a speech, this time the king would offer his people music, a culture apart from the courts of Saniya, something for the common people alone. It was a new sound, played with a new instrument, both created in Saniya, to signal all present the start of a new era.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

213 Office Politics

A wistful stare at the clear blue sky out the window brought Corco back to a simpler time when he had still been at war.

"Master, at your request, this servant has produced the reports of happenings inside Saniya during the most recent period of war." With a deep bow, Iyo – the skinny official who had done a lot of the city's administrative work over the past year – offered a stack of papers to Corco. "However, there is not too much King needs to bother himself with. Overall, there have been no major incidents during King's absence, so King can focus on more pressing matters and leave these details to this servant."

"No major incidents? There have been countless minor ones," Quato interrupted out of turn. For the ghost warrior and one of Tama's closest aides, it was an unusual lapse in etiquette. However, it was an understandable one. As a leftover servant of Sawo d'Ichilia – Saniya's previous ruler – Iyo wasn't very popular among Corco's loyalists.

"Countless, is it? Were your men too lazy to count them, or were they incapable of simple calculations? It appears your fake warriors require some education in fields beyond theft and murder," Iyo sneered. In provocation, the two men squared off. The distance between them reduced as their voices got louder.

"We only have a handful of men, and they are busy with other matters. They have to prevent outside spies and assassins from infiltrating the city, collect intelligence on any potential uprisings, and more recently they have been forced to fight the criminal elements of the city. How are we supposed to play accountant as well? Keeping track of the exact numbers appears to be your duty, Official Iyo, one you have no interest in fulfilling."

"You see what I have to deal with, Master Corco?" With the two servants behind him, Ronnie sat across from Corco's desk inside the king's study, head in his hands and a tired look on his face.

"There are no problems with security!"

"King Corco, this is an important matter!"

Before Corco could even answer the chemist, both servants shouted their version of the truth in each other's face. In a rare moment of unity, they didn't even acknowledge Ronnie's existence.

"Shut up, both of you!" Corco silenced the chaotic scene. "The fuck do you think this place is? I don't care about your personal conflicts, and I don't care about your end goals. Iyo, you're worried I'll replace you if I learn about the problems in the city, is that it?" Caught out, the servant's mouth twitched only slightly. Still, it was enough for Corco to suss out his real intentions.

"While I won't throw out a subordinate just because they struggle to solve a simple problem, I am very likely to throw them out if they lie to me. Misinformation is the one thing I won't stand for. Well, that and assassinations."

Confronted with the accusation, the servant's knees buckled and his head retreated back between his shoulders.

"No, great king, this servant has only had the best of intentions! This must be a misunderstanding!"

"Shut up!" Confronted with an excuse straight out of Arguna's imperial palace, Corco hit the table in anger. "Seriously, every time I leave the city, you people run wild. I already said I wouldn't throw you out, not today. But you are on probation, so you best behave from now on and play it safe. As for you," Corco turned towards Quato, who tensed up as a result. "Don't pretend as if you didn't do anything wrong here. You're making trouble for Iyo on purpose. You want him removed from his post because you don't trust him. Several different departments have sent me reports to that extent."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Faced with his master's revelation, the ghost swallowed heavily. Though he was also affected by the king's anger, he did hold up much better than Iyo and soon straightened his spine again.

"Who-"

"Is that really the question you should be asking? About who dared rat out your office politics to your boss?" Corco asked with a brooding face. At this point, Quato at least had the common sense to understand his fuck-up and shut his mouth.

"Now, maybe your goal was just trying to expose Iyo as a fraud, to protect the kingdom's security. Or maybe, you tried to get rid of a competitor, so you could further your own career. I don't care either way. Both options are a problem. You've already gone on a solo-mission when you disagreed with Master Bombasticus here and tried to stop Mason's rebellion all by yourself. Back then, I pardoned you because your good intentions were obvious, and because the circumstances were special. But that was all it was: A pardon for an otherwise punishable offense. From then on, you should have known that you were expected to perform to your orders, and nothing more. You're on probation too. And just in case you two don't understand what that word means, I'll tell you plainly: You'll be monitored for an undisclosed time, and any more tricks from either of you will get you removed from my court. Is that clear?"

"Understood King Corcopaca," both men said in unison, as if their disagreements had never existed.

"In the future, I will be implementing a better, more formal system of mutual control for the different departments. That way, we might but down this sort of backstabbing crap, at least a bit. I won't have you give me fake information just because it helps your career planning. I can't work like that."

For a moment everyone was silent, while Corco glanced through both reports from the two men. Although the tone of both documents was colored to achieve a certain effect, the general picture was the same: As soon as the army had left Saniya, there had been an increase in criminal activity.

"As for this issue," he said at last, looking back up into the faces of his waiting servants, "This should be real, right? There have been problems?"

"Yes, King Corcopaca," Iyo answered. This time, Quato didn't interrupt him. "Since most of the city guard were away to fight in King's army, the city's defense was understaffed. As a result, there have been many more cases of robbery and such as before. Although there were no major incidents, the actions have been quite disruptive for the regular citizens."

"Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to introduce a formal police force," Corco mumbled, and thought back on the promise he had made to his hero soldier the previous day.

"Okay, let's do this," Corco clapped and rubbed his hands together, his enthusiasm restored at the thought of progress. "We're putting together a proper police rather than this archaic guard system. That is, we will form a group of people employed by the crown, tasked to solve and prevent crimes inside our borders. There will be no more city guard, and all guard personnel will become simply part of the army. From now on, the army will only deal with outside threats. I don't want any of my people to fear my soldiers."

"And what would be the difference between these... police and a guard then?" Quato asked in a hesitant tone.

"Well, the police won't be carrying weapons, for one. Rather than the current situation, where people have to listen to the army because of the military force they have, we put in place a proper system of rights and regulations for ordinary citizens as well as for the police. It will supplement and expand the set of laws we introduced last year. That way, we avoid abuse of power and make the executive branch accountable for their actions, at least to an extent."

"No weapons? How will they prevent crime then?" Ronnie looked incredulous.

"...well, just give them batons or something. For now, let's just define a weapon as either a firearm or any bladed tool with a length beyond twenty centimeters or so. They can still use anything else. That'll probably limit them to blunt weapons, but their goal is to catch criminals, not kill them. And it's not like people in the city have an easy time getting their hands on weapons either. The police can also wear some armor, light stuff like leather and gambesons so they can stay mobile. And they'll receive the same level of physical training and martial arts practice as our regular soldiers. With all of those advantages, they will still have a leg up on criminals in any confrontation."

"Very well," the two servants answered. While both pretended that the excited king had explained everything perfectly, Ronnie asked the important questions, as always.

"And where will we get that many new recruits as well as the necessary requirements to replace the city guards? Who will train them, and where?"

"For the where, we'll need to open up a new branch for the school. Maybe set up a new building as well Any member of the police should at the very least be able to read and write anyways, some simple knowledge of mathematics would be nice too. That's something they will have to be taught, together with the laws they are meant to protect and uphold. The physical training and martial arts practice needs to be organized too. Right now we're a bit short on teachers, so for the moment they might have to share them with the other students. For the law education we can get some of the Pacha priests to help out. They've been working as judges for a year now, so they should have a basic understanding of Saniya's laws... though I might need to put some more effort into that area, I kinda neglected that so far, what with all the war and somesuch."

While Corco was talking, the silent Faedlio in the corner of the room kept taking notes to organize the king's disjointed thoughts.

"As for combat training, we'll get some former army people. After this war, there are plenty of injured veterans who can no longer work as soldiers but can still work in this area. Those will also make up the first part of our recruits. Those veterans have shown their loyalty to the crown, and they already have some real combat experience, which counts for a lot. Beyond that, we might be able to recruit some of Sawo's former warriors, at least once their punishment is over. Finally, Quato, I want a few ghosts to step in and take on the role of leaders within the new police system. We'll absolutely need some experienced, loyal warriors in those roles to hammer this disjointed group into a proper unit."

"However, we barely have enough ghosts to fulfill our current duties," Quato replied.

"Yeah, I get that, but all of us stretched thin, not only you. Within Saniya, there aren't nearly enough people who have proven their dedication to our cause, and most of them are needed in other places. Since the police force is a core issue for now, you'll have to somehow deal with the lack of personnel in other areas. I'll put you in charge of organizing the police personally. I want to replace the guards by the next harvesting season, before all the villagers enter the city again."

"Thank you, King Corco," an elated Quato answered. "This servant will fulfill his duties to King's satisfaction."

As he saw the warrior's over-the-top reaction to his promotion as well as his stiff, formal manner, Corco's interest in the topic waned. Everything important had been said anyways, so he chased the servants out of the room with a wave.

"Okay, that's enough for now. You two can leave. Master Bombasticus stays behind a bit longer."

After the two servants had bowed, one with a smile and one with a frown, they turned and left the king's study. Silence fell over the room as the two friends listened to two pairs of footsteps disappear into the distance. In the end, it was Ronnie who spoke up first.

"As you can see, these disagreements keep cropping up between servants and I am incapable of resolving them. I am really not made for this sort of work. I would much rather spend my time in the laboratory." At the thought of more administrative work, another sigh escaped the chemist.

"As I said, everyone is stretched thin, and we're all forced into uncomfortable positions." Corco paused for effect, before he nodded. "You're right though. Considering the circumstances you've done really well, but you're far more valuable in a lab than in an office. Now that I'm back, there's no more reason for you to waste your time on administration."

"Fantastic!" An elated Ronnie sat up to fix his lazy posture. "In fact, I have already been working on a few new ideas. There have been some new artificial colors besides the purple that are as good as ready. With additional time freed up, I am sure I can show you the results very, very soon!"

This time Corco shook his head to deny the chemist his request for research.

"You should focus more on actually training your apprentices for once."

At the sheer mention of his teaching role, Ronnie was about to jump up, but Corco interrupted him before he could complain.

"I know what you're trying to say: The brats are useless, your genius is wasted, your time is precious. Save it for someone else. We're understaffed everywhere, so you can't keep avoiding your duties as a teacher. At some point, we'll need more than just one chemist in the kingdom, and that point is pretty much now. So far, we somehow got by since we focused on the essentials and only made valuable, complex and impactful compounds. But as we move closer and closer to proper mass production, we will need literal tons of all kinds of acids and bases, among other things. No matter how hard you work, you alone just won't cut it any more. I'd teach them myself but..."

"I understand, the great king's time is precious," a sour Ronnie replied after Corco's words had drifted off.

"No, you fucking idiot." The king raised his brows and pointed at his chest. "It's because I'm an amateur. What the fuck do I know about chemistry? You're the only real expert we have, so you best get to it and make some more of you."

Although he grumbled a bit more, in the end Ronnie agreed to be more mindful of his apprentices. Maybe, Corco hoped, the new kids would be able to do some simple handiwork in the lab within a year. More and more, he realized that education was the bottleneck for the growth of his empire. Thus, it was even more important to attract talented people from other parts of the empire, and to create a better environment for them to live and work in the future.

"Right, Atau mentioned that some people wanted to see me in regard to... copper mines or something?"

Ronnie thought for a moment, before his face lit up in realization.

"Ah, yes, some traveling people came through here and claimed to have some innate connection to the earth? They claimed they can show us the valuable resources hidden under our soil. Since you weren't here, I let them stay in the city for now, but didn't do much else."

"...why does this sound like a scam?"

"Who knows how real it is? There are many strange things in this world."

With a frown, Corco thought about the Pacha faith which also focused on a worship of the earth. Even more, he thought about the strange cultivation he couldn't explain, and about his own second life. More and more, the idea of cultivating geologists seemed possible.

"Put them in some decent place and make sure they're taken care off for now. I'll go meet them once I have the time. In the meantime, you go back to your lab and try to at least find out the names of your students."

"Right. Then I will get to it. What do you have planned that is more important than those guests, Master Corco?" Ronnie asked.

"Me?" Corco chuckled in response, giddy at the thought of his next duties. "I haven't been here much over the past months, and when I came back from Chutwa everything else was overpowered by the war stuff. So I get to catch up with all the progress this place has gone through in the meantime. I'm really looking forward to all the new toys my people have prepared for me."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

214 Projects and Goals

When Corco entered the clock maker's workplace on Chukru Island, the cluttered room already housed a guest.

"What are you doing here?" the king asked the familiar figure who stood together with Egidius in front of one of many work tables. Even from behind and with his awkward stance, Corco had no trouble identifying his giant cousin Atau. In response to Corco's call, the two turned around.

"Ah, yes. Greeting, King Corco," Egidius said. "Since I needed an expert on navigation and ship building, I decided to find one by myself. Captain Atau here was kind enough to provide some of his insight, so I brought him over to help me work out the details of my current projects."

"Hey, Laqhis, we've been waiting for you. For a good while, actually," Atau added. Even ruder than normal, he scratched the inside of his leg, but Corco was willing to overlook it. He had new inventions to worry about.

"So you're the expert?" he asked his cousin as he approached the two.

"Who would be more fitting than the greatest navigator in all four seas to revolutionize sailing for all times?" The captain showed off his cocky grin before he grabbed the small test piece Egidius had worked on up until Corco's arrival. Held in his hand was a complex construction of several wooden rods. The rods radiated out from a common center with a partial circle at the bottom to connect them, and a small telescope on the front.

"You got the sextant done!" Corco beamed as he took the object from Atau. Upon closer inspection, some of the surfaces still looked a bit rough and needed some sanding and varnish, but the basic shape was unmistakable. "You made it from wood though?" he asked after his assessment and offered Egidius a critical look.

"Of course this is only a preliminary version of the tool, to prove that the principle works in practice. Wood would not be a good choice of material for a precision instrument, even less so on the high seas where it would be under attack from moisture and salt. The final product would be made of some type of metal, I assume. Though more tests are required for a final version," Egidius answered as he looked over to the table, where the plans for the instrument's future had been strewn about.

"We have done some tests and it appears the readings are sufficiently precise to be useful. However, I cannot claim that the sextant is done," he added.

"The thing looks pretty complete to me, apart from the material and the finish. What's left to do? Whatever it is, I'm willing to help out. By which I mean, I'm willing to lend you money or more work space. I really don't have time to actually help you with the designs."

"The instrument itself is fine, but its use is limited so long as we do not have the knowledge to use it properly. The biggest barrier is that we need better, more precise astronomical maps than what we have right now. Even though the tool is already quite useful on its own, it would be much better with the additional knowledge."

"We should be talking to the priests then," Corco said. "I'll ask the Pachayawna in Arguna for support, I'm sure Lord Nasica would love to play intermediary for us again."

"King Corco, not to be rude, but... I am unsure priests would be able to add much to our work," a rude Egidius said, but Atau only laughed in response.

"You got no idea, Arcavian. They're Pacha priests, not Arcavus clergy. The great Pacha encompasses all the lands of the earth, as well as the water below and the stars above. And the stars are the place where all the Divines sit to watch over the mortals. Most Pacha priests have spent all their lives watching the stars and trying to understand their movements, to read the intentions of the Divines. I don't think anyone in the world knows more about the celestial constellations than the priests do."

Again, Corco ignored Atau's scratching and added his own take.

"Even most of our old stories are coded messages about planetary and celestial movements, in some way or another. If a story from Yakuallpa mentions some specific animals, there's a good chance they stand in for some astrological sign. Like 'the wolf swallowing the raven' means the moon is moving into the wolf constellation. It's quite a neat way to do oral tradition, actually."

"In that case, I will be glad to welcome their support," Egidius said, though he still sounded unconvinced. Corco knew that the clock maker was a radical naturalist and didn't think highly of any religion, even of the useful parts. Instead, he would only value what he could see with his own eyes, so very different from the more metaphysical views of the priests. However, both sides would have to learn to work together. After all, they all had great things to contribute to his kingdom.

"Right, I'll be sending out a runner today, and I hope that I can get some support from the priests soon. Once their astronomers show up, I'll also need to teach them some calculus and show them our new lenses. Oh, that reminds me: I need you to make a second version of the sextant for horizontal use. That's a small adjustment, right?"

"It is, but what do you plan to do with it, Sire? With a horizontal sextant, one could only judge the distance between objects on the ground, its use in navigation would be limited."

"Aah, just gonna clean up our horrendous maps. I think it's about time we removed the dragons and serpents."

"Mysteries beyond mysteries. I guess we'll learn what that means when the time is ripe, huh?" Atau said, while his hand once again went between his legs.

"And what the fuck happened to you? Ever since I came here, you've been scratching yourself like a dog in heat."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Ah, sorry about that." Although he tried to play it off, Atau's hand still halted halfway to his crotch for a second and wavered there, unsure whether or not to continue. Only after some visible effort did he finally move it away again, a forced smile on his face. "Ever since the banquet I've had this persistent itch, y'know?"

With a non-plussed look, Corco stared down his cousin who looked more and more uncomfortable in the process, like a kid who had been caught red-handed.

"...I told you to be careful about that girl, didn't I?" Corco finally said in a flat tone.

"Hey, I know what I'm doing," his cousin protested. "There's no way Airi would have given me anything. That was her first time, so it couldn't have been her."

"So if it wasn't that girl, it was another one?" Corco wasn't one to be bullshitted easily. He spotted the holes in Atau's argument right away.

"Well..." Atau answered with a disappearing voice and a guilty look out the window. "It's kinda hard to say which one it was."

"How many did you fucking fuck with you fuckwit?" More astounded than angered, Corco stared at Atau as the atmosphere got increasingly uncomfortable. In the end, Egidius saved the room with a change in topic.

"King Corco, so long as I get the help of a good blacksmith, I should be able to finish the work on the sextant soon. However, Captain Atau also helped me with a second project, the new rudder. To finish work on it, we may need your help again, Sire."

"Second project?"

Now that he was no longer focused on Atau's loose lifestyle, Corco really took in the mess of a room around him for the first time. Although the workshop couldn't be considered dirty – or even messy – the room was crammed full of all kinds of strange objects. All along the walls, the clock maker had pinned up papers with various kinds of drawings and writings, ideas he had scribbled down in moments of inspiration. Several tables were covered with all kinds of mechanical parts, some looked like useless toys, others like transmissions, some may be half-finished or failed projects. For most, Corco had no idea what they would even be once they were finished.

In one corner, away from the light, Egidius had also piled his paintings. As a naturalist, his subjects ranged from people, to animals, landscapes, and tools. Yet no matter how different they were, all of them were real objects, and all of them were drawn so well that Corco could have mistaken them for photographs. Only the picture on top, a half-finished drawing of a young Yaku woman, gave away the fact that they were indeed painted with oil colors.

"You don't think you're stretching yourself a bit thin?" Rather than be impressed, Corco was concerned about the clock maker's health as he continued to look at all the junk in the room. How could one man focus on so many things and not lose himself or burn out?

"Ah, but all of these things are too interesting. There is no trouble at all. I will be able to fulfill all of your orders sire, and only work on my side projects in my free time."

*Maybe that's what they call a universal genius.*

In the end, Corco decided to leave the clock maker to his devices. Best case, Egidius would be able to handle his creative sparks and the king would have one of the greatest creative minds of their time on his hands. Worst case, Egidius would lose focus, get nothing done and Corco would lose the productive force from a single craftsman. In the face of an entire country, a single talented worker didn't really mean much. A genius did however, so it was worth the gamble.

"Okay," he gave up. "Show me that rudder of yours, and tell me what the problem is."

"Please follow along," an elated Egidius led the cousins across the room.

Together, they walked over to a table cluttered by cogs and rope. However, it was dominated by a scale model of something Corco himself had wanted to introduce for a long time now, yet had never found the time for in between all the constant crises.

"Isn't that a ship's wheel?"

Fascinated by the creation, Corco's fingers ran over the wheel with its eight spokes, as well as the ropes that connected to the tiller. Moved back and forth by the wheel's motion, the tiller in turn would move the rudder in the back of the contraption. Installed on a proper ship, it would increase the response time during navigation and would also reduce the number of men required for sailing.

Up until this point, all crews – be they from Medala, Chutwa or Arcavia – would steer their ships straight from a tiller connected to the rudder. Several men were required to move the giant wooden stick, which was usually placed below deck, right in front of the rudder itself. It was hard work, and quite unresponsive. However, a ship's wheel could be installed atop the quarterdeck, and its clever use of pulleys made turning a breeze.

This way, Saniya's new crews would only need a single helmsman each, freeing up manpower for other areas and improving maneuverability. It was a true revolution in seafaring, and one Corco himself hadn't even been responsible for. He was sure that he had drawn some version of this in his notes somewhere, but he had never shown it to Egidius, or tasked him to build it.

"That's right, it's a ship's wheel," Atau confirmed with a proud look on his face. "I remember you talking about something like that a couple times back in Arcavia, and I asked Egidius to help me make a proper version, one that's not just in your head. For now it's only a model cause we can't get into the shipyard."

As soon as it had come, Corco's happiness from the first Saniya invention independent of his influence was overshadowed by displeasure.

"What do you mean, 'you can't get inside'? Aren't you the highest ranking officer of our fleet?"

"Sure, but the people at the dock don't see it that way. The entire place is top secret, they tell me." His crooked grin and narrowed eyes showed that the captain wasn't happy at all about his treatment.

"At first, I tried to get inside so we could measure out the dimensions of the actual ships, to make sure we could fit a full-sized wheel inside one of them," Atau explained further.

"We need to coordinate our efforts with the shipwrights as well. If the builders do not leave space below the quarterdeck during the construction, we may waste a lot of effort if we wish to include the ship's wheels later," Egidius added.

"Right, of course. It looks like all the secrecy has caused some trouble. I mean, the shipyard is top secret, but at least you should have access," the king said to his cousin. After all, if he couldn't trust Atau, who could he trust? After he had thought about a simple, time-efficient solution for a bit, he came up with an answer.

"Uhm... Captain Atau, you are hereby promoted to admiral I guess. You've been in charge of a large fleet for a while now anyways. And I think we need an admiral or two as our fleet grows in size, so it's not like the title is undeserved. With that sort of status, you're the head of the entire fleet, so there's no way the guards can still deny you entry... and we don't need to set the precedent of making exceptions like this. Though I'll have a word with the guards anyways, just in case. You guys have free reigns in the shipyard from now on. Still, I'd like you to make sure you don't show the Arcavian shipwrights the design of the wheel. Install it yourselves, after the ship has been built. After four more years, at least some of them will leave for their home again, and I don't want this sort of technology to end up on a Bornish ship too soon."

"Uhm... thanks, I guess?" Atau scratched his head and received the promotion with the same carelessness Corco had given it out with. "So... does an admiral have more responsibilities than a captain?"

"Of course he has." Corco reassured his cousin, but Atau looked less than happy to receive the honors.

"You know about my goals, so I really can't take on any more work, at least not for now. I've been waiting for far too long already, and I think it's time to get going."

"Your journey around the world?" Of course Corco remembered Atau's great goal, his plan to sail around the entirety of the known world, from Yakuallpa's east coast, around Arcavia, past Ak'Challa and the unknown parts of the continents, then along Chutwa's entire coastline and back to Saniya on Yakuallpa's west coast.

"I don't want to sound spoiled or anything, but all the others moving ahead with their own goals. Brym's building his business empire, Dedrick's building his reputation and Ronnie's... Ronnie I guess. Only I'm stuck here," Atau explained. "I wanted to get these improvements done and get the ships on the east coast ready. Then I'd be on my way."

"You know that I need your help here right now." Corco frowned.

"You'll always need me, and almost always more than now," Atau replied as if he had been waiting for the objection. "So now's the perfect time for me to go. Your brothers are busy killing each other and politics in the south are as stable as they'll ever be. There will be a lull in direct conflict, so you can make do with others in that regard. You won't even need me on the seas. We have the support from the Verdant folk, so you don't need my help in the Verduic Sea. Even better, once we run out our first batch of ships from Saniya's shipyard, no one along the west coast can stand up to us, no matter how incompetent your chosen captains are."

"As for the east coast," Atau sneered. "After they sent over all those fleets and took Port Ulta, we just don't have enough ships to stand up to the Bornish right now. And we can't build any new ones either. If I take two or three and make my way around the world, no one's gonna miss them until I come back. They'd just be stuck in a harbor otherwise. Even better, I can go find all the plants and animals and minerals and whatnot you wrote down for me before my first trips. Now's the time to make up for all the stuff I missed. I'm sure I can bring back a lot of useful stuff for your new industries when I come home."

Tension rose as Corco thought about the proposal. In truth, he was conflicted. Although what Atau had said made sense, it wasn't something Corco was eager to hear. After all, Atau was one of the very few people the king could fully trust, and he was highly capable as well. Losing an ally like that because of something he didn't consider high priority was a harsh blow during such a crucial time of development. Even more, he was worried about his cousin's safety.

A trip across the high sea was never safe. A trip around the world, through mostly unexplored waters, would be a dance with death itself. However, Corco also thought back to the time when he had first received the memories from his second life. He remembered the oath he had sworn with his friends back then. He would lead them into a brighter future, and so he would not stand in Atau's way either.

"Fine-"

"Yes!" Atau interrupted and was about to give Corco a painfully enthusiastic hug, but the king stepped back and raised his arms in defense.

"However," he continued with a raised voice, "for now it's too dangerous to even start the trip. Even though there hasn't been an official declaration, we're basically at war with Borna and Cahlia. If you start from the east coast, you'll have to get through an entire ocean dominated by them, and then travel past their coastlines. It's a stupid idea. Just wait a while longer, until I can negotiate at least a temporary peace with them. Then, we can consider sending you off. You can use the time to get familiar with the new tools you guys have built, and we'll install them on the east coast ships as well in the meantime."

"So that means more diplomacy." Pained by past memories, Atau looked like he was about to cry.

"Isn't it fun?" Corco grinned. "Plus, we need to get rid of that itch of yours. Whatever disease you caught in your escapades, it probably won't help you find your way home. For that, like for so many other things, I have the perfect solution ready... soon-ish."

Giddy, Corco soon finished his visit in the clock maker's futuristic workshop and turned towards his next goal. Now that the big issues about the future of the world were out of the way, it was time to turn towards the smallest of issues. He could hardly wait.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

215 A New World

Inside the waters, the beast was in its element. The bizarre creature wiggled its myriad tentacles and thus propelled itself through the waves. Ripples were created all around it and drove away the other creatures, they themselves just as bizarre as the beast they fled from, yet not half as deadly. Within these waters, the beast was the apex predator. Even so, it was unaware of its grand status. Without any thought, it continued to do the only things it knew: Search for food, and devour.

"Nice, looks like everything's working just fine."

With a smile, Corco looked back up from the newest invention of Saniya's great craftsmen. A tiny glass bead was held above a small glass container by a wooden frame. Light reflected from the water inside the container focused in the glass bead, through a tube and into the observer's eyes. It was the first microscope in the world with more than a hundred times magnification, and for the first time it had uncovered a new world, right beneath everyone's noses.

"King Corcopaca, would this be the... new medical knowledge King has mentioned before?" a timid voice asked behind the king. When Corco turned around, he was confronted by an entire army of stares. Some were confused, some were excited, most looked scared or uncomfortable. However, all of them were relative strangers to Corco, since they were the doctors he had brought over with him from Chutwa. Thus, he didn't care much about their apprehension.

"That's right. Anything bothering you?" he teased.

"This master does not intend to be rude, but... are these creatures truly present everywhere, like King claimed?" a careful doctor Itzali asked while his panicked eyes flitted over to the microscope.

"Yup. They're in the air, they're in the water, they're in the ground. They're in your food, in your mouth and in your guts... and everywhere in between, really. Bacteria are present in many different places and they are responsible for much of life, the good and the bad."

"The bad?" Although he looked like he would rather not know the details, Itzali still asked.

"Well, some of them, some types, cause illness when they enter the body. That's what most illnesses are: An invasion of these small creatures... well, I guess that's close enough to the truth for now. We're not even close to discovering viruses yet, or anything relating to genetics, so it'll have to do."

Despite Corco's strange mumbling, the faces of the doctors didn't change. All of them seemed far too shocked by the changing world before them. Only Itzali showed a forced smile.

"It is just.. it is hard to fathom."

"You've seen it with your own eyes, haven't you?" Corco challenged them. "However tough to admit the existence of bacteria may be, what will you do if you can't even trust your own eyes anymore? You're here because you are all masters of medicine, people with the talent to take this knowledge of mine and use it to elevate your entire field. That's the reason I brought you here. I don't believe I misjudged anyone and brought someone useless in the process. Whoever is not willing to accept reality and break their agreement with me is free to do so. I just hope all of you can live with the consequences."

As Corco spoke, his stern eyes focused on the various masters. Although at first, some of the older physicians met him with a determined gaze of their own, soon even they lowered their heads in front of the king. After all, now that they were fugitives, they were stuck in Saniya and fully dependent on Corco's good graces. If the king was in a bad mood, he could very well just cut off their life support, or their heads.

Corco really didn't want to threaten them like this, but he had spent a lot of time and effort to get the Chutwa doctors into his territory. Even more, their expertise would allow his own subordinates to take a shortcut towards great advancements in medicine, one of the most important fields in the progress of any society. He really didn't have the luxury to be fair or nice about this, so threats would have to do.

"Right," he continued. "So now that you've accepted reality, I assume everyone is ready to learn about these organisms and their influence on the human body?"

A few of the doctors made some unintelligible sounds, but nothing that could be misconstrued as agreement.

"I can't hear you." His voice became as calm as a lake in winter while a friendly smile formed on his mouth.

"Of course, King Corcopaca. This master is committed to the previous arrangement with all of his heart."

After Itzali had spoken, the other doctors stepped up one by one and reconfirmed the contracts they had already signed with Corco. No matter their actual allegiance, the doctors knew what was best for them.

"Nice. Now that that's cleared up, here's what will happen next," Corco clapped his hands together, before he began to enumerate his future plans on his fingers.

"First up, everyone here will enter our local school as special students, and I will teach everyone what little I know of medicine. I'm not a doctor and my knowledge in this area is vastly inferior to everyone here, but it's also vastly different, so there's still plenty of new stuff to learn. I'll teach you about human anatomy, bacteria and hygiene, among other things. At some point, you'll also memorize and swear the Hippocratic oath. I don't care what you do to your patients once you return home, but at least in my kingdom, I won't have you willfully harm any of my people."

The blatant disregard these doctors had shown for the health of others was the reason for the king's aggressive attitude. Anger burned in his heart as Corco remembered some of the callous treatment his soldiers had received during the war, while his eyes were focused elsewhere. Some of these doctors had used his men as guinea pigs to test out the new techniques they had been taught by the king, as well as several personal variations they thought might yield better or more interesting effect.

The results had been several amputated limbs that could have remained attached, and far more pain than necessary. Since they also ended up saving many lives and he still needed their help, he couldn't really punish the arrogant doctors for their actions though. Even less since they had done their deeds under exceptional circumstances, during times of war. If he punished everyone of his people for bad behavior during war, he would soon have a riot on his hands. However, at least he wanted these people on a tighter leash from now on, to make sure incidents like these wouldn't be repeated.

"Okay, second demand," he continued after his first point had seeped into the skulls of the doctors. "Everyone here will spend several hours a day on work with the microscopes. Although I know about bacteria in general, I know precious little about the different types and kinds. With few exceptions, I also know almost nothing about their various habitats or any other relevant traits. For the next few years, all of you will work on the microscopes in here daily to find, understand and catalog as many species as you can. Whatever new discoveries you make, I want you to write them down in a scientifically rigorous manner... guess I'll have to teach you what that means as well. Every once in a while, let's say every month, you will turn in a copy of your findings to be archived in my library."

As soon as Corco had stated his second demand, the first of the great doctors cried out over the injustice. Soon, the whole flock followed.

"Impossible! Who would dare steal our knowledge?" the first one screamed out his accusation.

"This master's trade secrets cannot be divulged to just anyone! Let along giving them away like this! Who knows where they could end up!" the second voiced his concerns.

"Not only giving it away, but giving it away for free!? How could this master's wisdom be so cheap to have!?" the third tried to raise the price.

Corco's hand covered his eyes and he could feel the vein on his right temple throb. This was just what he had expected, but it still annoyed him. Like merchants, these masters were used to keeping their craft secret from others and would do everything to preserve the monopoly that had made them so much money in the past. This attitude was the biggest reason why Chutwa's field of medicine hadn't really advanced for hundreds of years. It was also why they would eventually lose their technological advantage over Corco's new kingdom.

Although he would have loved to talk at length about the values of open scientific discourse in an effort to convince them, this was hardly the crowd for it. For a while the string of complaints went on, while the doctors got ever louder and bolder in the process, until Corco finally snapped. His hand grasped the microscope on the table and threw it into the blabbering masses. Like a startled school of fish, the masters scattered and the expensive new invention shattered on the floor.

"Are you fucking done?" the king scowled. "'You're giving up your wisdom? Who are you kidding with this? You're making use of my knowledge, and you are using my new tools to make the discoveries, all while you're in my employ. How does that make any of this your wisdom? You're just government workers, and the only reason I didn't hire randoms off the street is because you're marginally more competent. Don't think you're irreplaceable."

His eye twitched as he looked into the unconvinced faces of the masters.

"What is actually wrong with you? You get the chance to revolutionize the world and you complain that you don't get a monopoly on progress too? You really do have some problems, you know that? That's not an insult, just an honest observation. There's something wrong with you. Now, if anyone here makes a useful contribution to Medala's medical field, they will be rewarded with gold, silver or whatever else they desire. These rewards will be far more valuable than anything you could get from curing random commoners in marketplaces like you have done all your lives. Once your contract is up, you can go back home and either retire rich men, or keep doing the same crap as before. After learning all these new methods, you will even be a lot more successful. However, in return I expect everyone to play by my rules. That includes giving your monthly report, and keeping nothing to yourselves. And I mean nothing."

Again, his eyes ran across the great doctors, who once more were pacified by the king's aggressive aura. As dignified scholars, they weren't used to the barbaric directness of some of the rougher Medala nobles. However, even though no one complained anymore, Corco still wasn't quite done.

"Remember this well: If I find out that any of you are withholding your knowledge or ability to the detriment of my people, I will not be merciful. Humans aren't made out of glass, but they still break pretty easily. I'm sure all the great doctors here are well aware of what could happen in case you fail to live up to expectations."

An eerie silence fell over the crowd as they all looked down to the broken microscope. The stalemate continued for a while, the doctors too scared to continue their complaints and Corco eager to let them soak in the threatening atmosphere. In the end, he decided to leave early, despite the monumental breakthrough the microscope represented. Today, he had no more patience for nonsense, and he had shattered the glass bead anyways.

"Looks like all of you agree, so that's settled then. Also, one final point: Everyone here will pick at least three local disciples to train during your time here. Those disciples will stay behind and spread their knowledge to the next generation once you return to Chutwa. Since they will only operate in Medala, under my command, you don't even need to be afraid of any new competition cropping up for you back home. Anyone have a problem with that?"

"Of course not," Itzali replied as before, but now beads of sweat chased each other down his forehead. Unlike most of the other doctors, he had seen Corco slaughter a high-level cultivator in cold blood. He would know what cruelty the king of the south was capable of, so Itzali looked the most timid out of all of them. "Is there anything else King requires?" he probed, no doubt hoping Corco would leave soon. His new lord wouldn't do him the favor.

"Ah yeah. I almost forgot from all the burning rage and such." Corco searched around in his robes for a bit, before he pulled out several disorganized notes. After a while of leafing through his many great plans, he found the correct one and threw it on the table he had just cleaned of the microscope. The drawing seemed surreal, a bizarre creature without a mouth or eyes, but with long, almost finger-like appendages. At first it seemed almost abstract, until one realized that the monster was similar to the tiny creatures in the new world under the microscope.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"You're likely to find this bacterium in the mold of bread, I think... though you might have to search in other places too, I'm not 100%. Finding, isolating and cultivating this one has top priority over all other cataloging. Whoever finds it can expect a great reward, as well as immortal fame." Corco grinned, his mood finally raised by his own devices. "I mean, how could the creator of penicillin ever be forgotten?"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

216 Trouble in Paradise

All this time, Corco had held dreams of city simulations. Now that his dream had finally come true, he understood the harshness of reality.

"No, King Corco, so far progress has been slow. Despite our best efforts, there have been some significant problems in the construction of the new sewer system. Even now, barely any progress has been made, especially close to the Mayura River. Thus, the workers are far behind schedule and will not be able to finish as planned."

His whole body a puddle of sweat, Wasikato the architect stood in front of Corco's desk inside the king's studies. As he explained his difficulties, a constant shiver governed his hands.

Back when Corco had taken over Saniya, he had given Wasikato, together with a number of other architects, control over the infrastructure planning within and around the city. After all, he himself had been too busy to handle these matters himself. He had only given them rough plans and left them to build houses and roads, comparatively easy projects they could plan and complete with their previous experience alone. However, now that he was back and in demand of more advanced building projects, things were going less than smoothly.

"So what's the problem?" Corco asked with a frown.

"For one, the soil around the river bank is too... soft and there is too much water in the soil this close to the Mayura River and the Verduic coastline. We have found that carving out a hole below the city's roads is quite the challenge. There have been multiple attempts in different places, but all of them have collapsed after only a few days. This mortal's own project lasted five days, but sudden rainfall washed away the dirt and loosened the pillars we had erected inside. At least the incident happened at night, so none of the valuable laborers were lost. We cannot even consider building below the city until we manage to solve this issue."

As it turned out, playing city simulator in real life was a lot less fun than on PC. He couldn't even set off a volcano or death robot whenever he felt frustrated. The whole thing was a wash. Corco's head began to hurt as he thought about all the lost man hours, as well as the waste of money it represented. At least Wasikato valued the lives of his workers, though maybe only because they were irreplaceable cultivators doing forced labor.

After he had spent a good ten seconds to probe the recesses of his brain for a solution, a concept dimly entered his mind.

"You can't put in any rods to stabilize the soil?" he asked, his mood brightened by the sudden inspiration.

"How... how would that work, exactly?" a nervous Wasikato asked. "Excuse this mortal, King Corco, but this is a technique that is unknown to this lowly one."

"Well, you know?" Corco asked as if everyone would. "If you stick a bunch of metal rods into soft soil, the soil compacts and the friction... improves stability? I think?"

The king's presence disappeared into his own world while he tapped his upper lip to jog his memory. Meanwhile, his attendant who had sat to the side in silence all this time entered the conversation to help out the architect.

"Since Master Wasikato is unaware of this phenomenon, it would be best to do some experiments," Fadelio finished Corco's thoughts, before he turned towards Wasikato. "Master, you have permission to use the testing beach on Chukru Island. There, you should create a small-scale model to test out this phenomenon before using it on a grand scale. We should also install some pumps inside Saniya like we have done along the Mayura, to lower the water table along the river banks."

"Yeah, that seems like a good idea, huh?" Corco said after he had returned from his own world again. He was thankful that Fadelio had brought them back on track, but his trip down memory lane still had yielded some results. Thus, he turned towards Wasikato and added some requirements.

"Anyways, if you're building below the city, don't forget to leave plenty of room for future infrastructure. Several different pipes and cables will run below the city in the near-ish future, so it'd be best to prepare early, right?"

"Of course, King Corcopaca," Although he was visibly confused, the architect still affirmed the king's request.

"Later I'll give you details on how much room to leave in what places. I'll write you a little checklist, so just stick to it." Rather than force the architect to understand why they would have to future-proof the city, or what that would even mean, the king would simply instruct him to do as ordered. At the moment, he was the king's contractor after all, and the customer was always king.

"Very well." The architect sounded obedient, but his legs shuffled back and forth on the expensive carpet to show his discomfort.

"If there aren't any other problems, you can go now," Corco said and waved towards the door.

"Well," Somehow, the architect managed to look even more troubled than before, but he still continued after Corco impatiently motioned him to go on. "This servant has looked at King Corcopaca's new plans for the city, and... not to sound too forward, however..."

"Yes, you're allowed to talk. Rather, I'd prefer insults and curses over whatever this is." Corco waved in Wasikato's vague direction to encompass the man's indecision. Somehow, the architect amassed enough composure to get out his concerns.

"To be honest, the roads planned for the city just seem excessive, both in scale and volume... at least to the eyes of this humble, incompetent architect."

"That's because you're lacking imagination." Corco turned and looked towards Fadelio. "What's our current population, around fifteen thousand?"

"That's correct. We passed fifteen thousand inhabitants last week, when most of the soldiers returned from the war. With the constant influx of people from the countryside and the additional craftsmen from Arguna, we expect to add at least another five thousand by the end of the year."

With a "see", Corco looked back at Wasikato and spread his hands.

"At first, we had all that extra space in the city because the four thousand former warriors from Sawo's army were out building bridges, beacons and water wheels. But now things are already getting cramped, even with all the extra construction that's been going on. Even before the war started, people from the countryside started to move into the city. Then came even more commoners who came over from the north, people Pacha sent against our castle as cannon fodder. Now we've added even more with the craftsmen from Arguna. With all this influx of population, we'll need more and more room. I won't have the city grow on its own like weeds, that'll only stifle our prospective growth in the future. So we need to be smart about this and prepare the living space in advance. I can't care how the people want to stylize their own neighborhoods, we don't have enough manpower for that. But at the very least, we need to guarantee that there's some proper throughput of traffic, even once things get crowded."

Since Corco had explained with such patience, it seemed like Wasikato had finally found his spine and offered his own opinion.

"While I understand King Corcopaca's reasoning, the project is still far too large for Saniya's current architects to handle. This mortal lacks money and manpower to accomplish the task, both in large quantities. Even with the generous budget from King Corcopaca and with support from the warriors in the labor camps, we still have far too much work to do."

"Ah, that reminds me, we need to add some extra space south of the main town somewhere. I want you to dig a ditch and build a proper burial site for our fallen soldiers. That's top priority. The grievance time for their families is almost up and they should be buried underground already, so you should take care of that before anything else."

Although the final battle had happened almost three weeks ago by now, Corco hadn't been in a terrible hurry to bury his soldiers at first. According to usual Medalan ritual, the dead would first be left out in the open for a while. This way, their spirits would remain with their bodies, which left their family members enough time to say their goodbyes. This was generally considered the grievance period, something Corco had missed out on for his own father, so he was eager to grant it to his soldiers' families. However, as soon as he heaped another project onto Wasikato, he could see the poor man's sweat multiply. At this rate, the architect might die of dehydration if the king didn't offer some relief as well.

"Don't worry about it." Corco laughed. "Didn't you hear what we said? The city is growing at an exponential rate. If you don't have enough people, just hire more. If you can't find enough even with all the new faces rushing into the city, hire them from outside the territory. That way, the city will grow even quicker, and all these fancy roads and sewers won't be excessive anymore. Isn't it nice how things work out sometimes? As for the money, I'll simply increase your budget. You'll be informed later by how much. Go do your work now, I still have to take care of some other issues."

Once the architect had given his thanks and left, Fadelio walked around the table and sat on the seat for guests.

"Laqhis... I know you don't want to hear it-"

"Then don't say it."

"-but we're already spending way too much. Yes, we have all these new production lines to make money, but most of our early production of glass, dye, soap and Chutwa glaze was used to trade for grain with the Verduic islands and Chutwa. Inside Medala, be it the north or the south, Brym is running all over the place to install our shops, but the level of distribution is still insufficient. According to the man himself, it will take at least a year until we can stop investing in new shops and start selling everything we produce. Only then will we get an actual return on our investment... but despite all of that, we keep adding to our already tight budget. Especially now. The southern lords already spent most of their money from last fall's harvest on our luxuries, and they can't spend any more until next fall, which is still three seasons away. Put simply, with the new manufactories up and running, we are producing too much too quickly, and the high wages we pay everyone under the crown can't be sustained at this rate."

"Okay, so how far away are we from breaking even?" Corco asked. All this time he had properly held back on new projects, so this couldn't be too bad, could it?

"During the victory banquets, the southern lords spent most of their fall harvest on luxuries in Saniya. As a result, we earned around 2.000.000 Sila last month."

"That's pretty good, isn't it?" Corco asked. A Silo was the standard currency of Medala. Within the empire, most grain was stored inside large pots of clay called Sila, which was where the term originated. If converted, one stone of silver – about six kilograms – was worth twelve times twelve times twelve, or 1728, Sila.

Of course, the various Sila coins inside the empire were never made of pure silver, so their actual material value was around half that. Still, 2.000.000 Sila could buy around six tons of pure silver.

"Although the income is great, our costs have risen by a lot as well. Right now, we are spending more than 600.000 every single month on wages and materials alone. However, we won't have that kind of income every month. As I said, the southern lords are out of money and can no longer buy our goods, no matter how much they want to."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"So if we're lacking markets, we just have to open up new ones."

Just like any proper businessman, he would just outgrow his debt rather than scale back production. Corco looked at the weaved map of his kingdom he had hung up in his study. In the east, there was an unpleasant dark spot, an area controlled by the people he least wanted in charge of his people's lives.

"Don't the Arcavians control Port Ulta now? All this time, their goal was to get access to fancy trade goods from Chutwa. So let's give them what they want. Genuine Chutwa glaze, genuine Chutwa tea and silk... and of course, genuine Chutwa dye. All of it produced straight in Medala, though they don't need to know that. I'll need you to organize a convoy for me. First I'll make a quick trip to Cashan and clear up some issues, then I'll go to Port Ulta and negotiate a peace with them, or at least a ceasefire. They get to have their trade, we get to fleece them of all their precious gold and solve our liquidity issues in the process."

His eyes narrowed as he looked forward to the future negotiations. He was really looking forward to meeting his old friends again. Maybe playing city simulation wasn't so bad after all.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

217 Modern Transportation

Once again, Corco had traveled down his new road from Saniya, east along the Narrow Sea. Once again, he had reached the lands of Cashan south of the Narrows and Qarasi Castle, the estate the Villca brothers had fought so hard over for the past year. And once again, Corco had brought a whole convoy of people with him.

However, this time he hadn't brought his army. Rather than soldiers, the bulk of the convoy consisted of various craftsmen. Chief among them were several Arcavian clock makers, together with their new Yaku disciples. Almost of the same importance were Corco's accountants and diplomats, who would do all the boring legwork for him in the upcoming discussions. Of course, the king and his guards stood at the very front of the formation.

Although they were still an hour's journey away from the city of Cashan, they had already reached their destination. While the gentle hills along the Tunki River weren't much to look at, beneath them lay treasures worth traveling for.

Though at first, they would have to deal with the locals. When they arrived, they were greeted by Guachimine Villca, youngest of the Villca brothers, who had come together with his own entourage of guards.

"King Corco, what a great honor it is for House Villca to be blessed with your visit."

"Since you're here by yourself, I take it Uchu is in charge of Cashan now?" Corco asked. By the time he had returned to Saniya after the war, the two brothers Uchu and Pahuac Villca had driven their eldest brother out of the city, but had still not decided who between them held ownership of Cashan. It seemed like the former bandit Uchu had won the race, since his personal advisor Guachimine had arrived by himself to greet the king.

"Oh no, far from it," Guachimine denied. "For now, the sons of the former lord Villca have decided on a compromise. Both Lord Uchu and Lord Pahuac will be in charge of the entire estate and rule the lands together, for the harmony and prosperity of the southern kingdom. However, for now Lord Pahuac has been forced to take some of Cashan's army and occupy the various fortresses along the eastern Anticasa mountain pass. After all, there are new enemies in the east, and they have shown already that they dare attack Cashan without warning. Thus, only Brother Uchu sits the city at the moment, with this servant as his advisor. If Lord Pahuac had known of the king's arrival earlier, he would surely have sent his own delegation, so please do not consider his negligence an affront to the throne."

Even though Corco felt that the simpler Pahuac was being pushed aside with this sort of excuse, the king didn't comment. Neither did he say anything about Guachimine's obvious attempt at framing Pahuac. Even though Corco was sure that Uchu had withheld information of the king's arrival on purpose to get his brother in trouble, this was an internal family matter, and he wouldn't let himself get dragged into a mess he didn't stand to benefit from.

While he felt like their treatment of their brother Pahuac was quite nasty, he wanted them to resolve the issue of succession as soon as possible and didn't really care who won. All that mattered to him was that they guaranteed peace in the eastern parts of his kingdom.

"Right, sounds like you've got things figured out then. Since we're meeting here in the middle of nowhere, I assume that your copper mine is here?" the king changed topics.

"Ah yes, it is only across these hills, King. Please let this servant act as a guide."

Superficially servile as ever, Guachimine led Corco's party up one of the gentle hills, away from the river.

"You're not afraid someone's gonna steal your copper? I mean, the mine's just sitting here and I don't see any defenses."

Not only was the area devoid of any defensive structures like towers or walls, he couldn't even see a single guard besides the ones Guachimine had brought.

"Theft is not much of a concern."

"Any reason for that?"

"Once King sees the mines, King will understand." With a mysterious smile, Guachimine led the group over the hill's crest. Although Corco wasn't big on mysteries, at least the mystery wasn't retained for too long.

As soon as Corco crossed the hill and saw the open-shaft mine in the basin below, he understood. Between three hills, the entire earth had been dug up and turned into a muddy mess. However, while there were at least ten pits dug out from the ground, places where the people of Cashan should have found copper, none of them were deeper than a few meters.

Even worse, there was almost no infrastructure here. A few shacks sat to the side of the pits, with a handful of rusty tools leaned against them. No workers could be seen anywhere. Rather than a mining operation, the site looked like a long-abandoned ghost town. No wonder they weren't concerned about theft, it didn't look like there was much to take.

"So... you're not actually using the mine?"Corco asked his guide.

"No, the mine is in use most days, but since King's arrival is such a grand event, work rests for today so as to not bother King's ears with the noise."

"...you're saying this is an active mine? This? It's not some archaeological site where you're digging out ancient tools? You're actually mining copper here?"

"Indeed we are." Despite his attempt at a calm demeanor, Guachimine's smile began to look a bit strained.

"How can you call this an active mine?" the king asked again and spread his arms to encompass the drab picture. "How many workers can you possibly support with this sort of infrastructure?"

"Because of certain issues, the mine does not employ too many miners for now. At the moment, only around ten miners collect ores on any given day. The facilities on site are perfectly sufficient for these numbers."

Again, Corco looked at the disorganized mess before him. The basin itself was huge, and the people seemed to have found copper close to the surface in no less than ten places. Ten people would barely be enough to post as guards for such a large operation, let alone be enough to work the pits. Before he had come here, he had imagined something... grander.

Still, there was no reason to despair just yet. At least the mines looked large enough to fit his plans. If their yield was fine, increasing their output wouldn't be too difficult either. All it took was a bit more investment.

"Okay, I'd say we should go talk about the details somewhere more private. In the meantime, my people will take a look at the area and assess what can and can't be done here," Corco said to Guachimine.

"Although this servant does not understand King's precise goals, this servant will act as ordered. Please follow along, King."

After Corco had motioned for the clock makers to survey the basin and the surrounding area, he and the Villca advisor went inside one of the small wooden sheds to the side of the mines. Up close they looked even worse than from a distance, but they were the only buildings around, so they didn't have much of a choice.

Once inside, the darkness was soon driven away by candles spread around the room. Rivers of wax had long dried at their bottom and formed bizarre formations, to show the room's age and the lack of care it had received. What Corco found beyond the candles were a shabby little table and a few chairs, as well as several crates in the corner. Even so, his attention was robbed by the contents of the crates, all of them filled with dirty, green chunks of metal.

"I know the place looks like a dump on the outside, but still. Isn't this dangerous? Leaving all your copper out like that? That's some copper compound in those crates, right? I thought you would at least have some guards here, but I still haven't seen any," Corco asked.

"There is no danger," Guachimine replied with a bitter smile. "All bandits who wish to steal our copper are free to do as they please. Yet they never do. There are many better things to rob on Villca lands. So these mines are not worth the ire of House Villca. In fact, they may not be worth the effort of transportation."

"Why? To me it looks like you've got a solid amount piled up here. Don't the mines hold enough copper to be properly exploited?" Corco asked, this time with real concern. If there wasn't enough copper in the ground, he would have to readjust his plans. Again.

"No, as far as anyone can tell, there are large copper deposits hidden below the basin. However," he picked up one of the dirty-green rocks from within a crate, "almost everything below the ground is this sort of malachite rock. Getting the pure copper out of it is quite a challenge for our local blacksmiths, so profits would be low even if we mined more of the ores. In addition, we cannot mine too deeply either, even though there might be purer ores hidden further below the earth. After all, we are very close to the river, and within a basin. The groundwater is too close to the surface, so all our attempts at deeper mines simply flooded after a few days. As for the final reason,"

Guachimine motioned out of the room's open door, towards the pristine wilderness around their mining operation.

"The mines are, frankly, in the middle of nowhere. Transport of goods from here to Cashan is too expensive and not worth the cost. In the end, the mines barely turn a profit for Cashan. It is impossible for this project to compete with our other mines set up farther up the mountains, especially our iron and crystal operations. In truth, our father only began to mine the copper here in an effort to become less dependent on products from the outside, especially from the mines of House Ogulno in western Saniya. However, now that the political situation in the south has changed, we have decided to close them down, as they serve no more purpose... not unless King wishes to make a good offer."

Corco grinned at Guachimine's little story. The fourth Villca brother had always been clever, but as a merchant Corco had far more experience than him. Even though Guachimine's story appeared like rambling without purpose, it created the perfect backdrop for negotiations on a sale.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

*He probably thinks I want to buy the mines.*

After the Villca had explained their troubles with the mines and even emphasized that they wold be closed soon, he had made clear that they would lose their value to the king in a short while. If Corco insisted on buying them anyways, he would admit that they had value for him beyond their obvious profits.

Maybe Guachimine thought Corco wanted them for the same purpose as the old Villca had, to become less dependent on Lord Ogulno. To the king's good fortune, he wasn't here to buy anything. First and foremost, he had made his trip as a salesman.

"What if I tell you that I can solve all your problems and make your mine profitable?" the king asked. "Even better, it will barely cost you anything. I think we can enter into a mutually beneficial cooperation."

Caught unawares, Guachimine thought for a while with furrowed brows. Only after he had observed the king's invariable smile with great care did he speak up again.

"This servant is deeply honored to receive such attention from the king of the south. However, I would like to hear the details of this cooperation first. Also, please note that this servant is only an advisor, and thus not qualified to strike any deals of this magnitude. Though of course, King's offer will be forwarded to Lord Uchu as soon as possible."

"No need to be on guard that much. The arrangement I've brought will benefit us both, honest. Maybe it'll benefit you more than me, actually." Corco grinned as he leaned back in his rickety chair. "As far as you've told me, there are three problems with the mines: Water in the ground, an inefficient refining process and inefficient transportation."

Corco raised three of his fingers and continued his sales pitch.

"First off, I brought a number of my clock makers with me when I made the trip. If you paid attention or maybe did some spying or something, you'd know that we've been building waterwheels all over the Chawir marshes, equipped with then technology of the clock makers. For now, aside from milling grain, these wheels will power pumps, which in turn will drain the areas around them of water. That's quite a useful tool for a marsh, but it's even more useful for a mine like yours. Of course you could install your own pumps, but we already have the expertise and the experience in putting them together, so relying on us will be a lot cheaper for you. Plus, our pumps are way better than anything your local craftsmen could come up with. I'll offer you the services of our workers for a good price, so that solves your first problem."

One of Corco's fingers disappeared behind his palm, leaving only two standing.

"Second, refinement. I'm sure you've seen the occasional smoke above Saniya when you were there. We have already set up a massive furnace for metal refinement inside the city, and I aim to set up several more over the next couple years. While it might not be worth it to refine all this ore individually, things become much easier once we do so in bulk. So all you need to do is sell us the ore at a decent price and you won't need to bother with the refinement anymore. Let's say we'll be buying the ore at a third the equivalent price per stone of copper. Since a lot of the material will be lost in the refinement process, that's more than a fair offer I think. Ah, though since we'll be needing bulk, it might be better if you upgrade your tools to keep up with Saniya's production. We can help you with that too. We've been producing some high-quality tools recently and would love for you to take them off our hands."

Although Guachimine looked like he wanted to interrupt and start negotiations in detail, he could see that Corco still had one of his fingers up, so he let the king finish first.

"Finally, Transport wouldn't be difficult either. The river is not too far from your mines, and Saniya is right downstream from there. Boat transport seems like the most economical way of doing things."

"However, the river is still around a mile away from the mines. While shipping it downstream is easier than upstream, getting the ores to the river in the first place would be very expensive and time-consuming," Guachimine tried to haggle.

"I knew you'd say that." Corco stood up. "And I have the perfect answer for you. Follow me, they should already be done outside. Let's take a look at the third product you will soon buy from Saniya, after the pumps and the iron tools."

Without looking back, the king strode out of the dim shack and back into the light. When he looked towards the mines, he could see that his craftsmen had indeed set up their little demonstration already. Two perpendicular metal rails were laid out on the ground over a short distance of ten meters or so, and a small mine cart was put on top of them.

Although the technology was hardly revolutionary, it required an amount of iron and a level of precision that was uncommon for the blacksmiths of this era. While it wasn't the train Corco had envisioned quite yet, the southern kingdom was about to install the world's first railroad track.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

218 Back to Basics

Compared to the Urquna mountain pass in the north, the Anticasa pass through the Sallqata mountain range east of Cashan seemed almost quaint. This far south, the elevation was low enough that even this close to the peaks, Corco could still see trees.

The northern pass was a journey through hell, fraught with danger of narrow, iced up roads, rickety bridges and thin, frozen air. However, here the road was wide and straight, at least by mountain pass standards. Even so, if some traders or armies thought the trip was easy, they would be sorely mistaken.

While this path was far less of a physical challenge than the northern one, they would still have to climb up around a thousand meters of elevation, before giving up almost the same height again on their way down to Cashan. Even more, while the pass' highest point was lower than the one to Arguna, this one was also located much farther south. Even now when spring had reached most of Medala, the snow of winter hadn't melted on the Anticasa pass yet. And while the sparse conifer trees created a nice atmosphere for the traveling merchants, the fortresses of House Villca did not. All along the pass, the noble house had used its centuries of local control to build a dozen small fortresses into the mountain sides.

Not only would they protect against bandits and enemy armies from the east, they would also serve as the bane of any god-fearing trader: toll stations. From his room's window, high up inside one of the forward forts, Corco could see another fortress across his own position, a beautiful mix of stone and wood, built right into the steep cliff side besides the pass. Further east, he could see another one in the distance, close enough to communicate with its fellow fortifications through the use of flames or flags.

With his eyes focused on the eastern fortress in the distance, the king spotted a small convoy halfway on its way to them. Although he already knew which group would be traveling from eastern Medala through the pass during times of war, it still wouldn't hurt to check on them.

However, before he could bring his telescope to his eyes, a low growl made his hands halt in their tracks. Still bombarded by the threatening noise, he turned around to see himself confronted by the slavering maw of a wild dog, almost half his height and almost twice his anger. The beast's back bristled as its dark yellow eyes stared him down, its ferocity only held back by its owner at its side.

"Ahaha, no worries, King. Argau just wants to play," said Pahuac Tertiu Villca, third-born legitimate son of the late Lord Villca. Despite his chipper attitude, the large man's red-gloved hands clutched his dog's collar, while his smile looked a bit cramped. After a moment of struggle, Pahuac shouted "Argau, down!" and the dog left Corco with another vicious growl, before it lay on the ground with a discontented yelp. By this time, the king's eyes had narrowed into slits and his hand had already reached for his pistol. This wasn't the kind of greeting he had expected from his host.

"Very sorry, King Corco. He's usually not that excited." The Lord moved to the table where food and drink had been prepared for his guest. He grabbed a chicken leg and threw it to his dog.

"Good boy," he praised the dog for not mauling his guest, before his excuses continued. "Must be all the new people around."

"Are you talking about me, or about all of your new soldiers?" Again, Corco looked out of the window, this time into the hill fort's front courtyard, where a large number of Cashan's warriors stood in formation to await their guests in a demonstration of power.

"It should be a bit of both. We never had this many people here before, so that gets him riled up. But I do not believe it will be a problem for long. His nose will get used to all the new smells in no time. In fact, I think we should go hunting together. Argau always likes the people he hunts with."

The king didn't reply to Pahuac's suggestion and struck out the final 'with' in his head. Not only had he no interest whatsoever in hunting parties with wild dogs, he also had more important questions to ask.

"You understand what your brothers are doing, right?"

"I wonder what King might be talking about?"

When Corco turned back around, Pahuac Villca was sprawled across a lounge chair and poured himself some wine. Even though the war for power between the Villca brothers wasn't something Corco should get involved in, Pahuac had always seemed like the most honest and most open among them. The way he seemed to be getting cheated rubbed Corco the wrong way, so he decided to at least make Pahuac aware of his situation. In all likelihood, it was too late for the young lord to change anything, but at least Corco would feel better about the ordeal.

"While you're sitting here, your brothers are taking all of your father's lands from you. I understand that you guys have a deal, you and Uchu were supposed to rule together. Still, as soon as you managed to get past your differences, he's sent you here to defend the borders. You don't think that's weird? Why can't they send some general, why isn't Uchu going himself? Isn't he also a proud bandit chief or whatever? In the end, they were just trying to get you out of Cashan, so they can win over the advisors and administrators who are willing to follow them and clean out those who wanted to support you instead. That way, they hold all the political power in the city. Once they're done with the city, you'll be built on stilts even if you come back, with power in name only."

At first Uchu looked surprised at the king's revelation, before he burst into uproarious laughter, spilling his wine in the process.

"Ah, and I was wondering what you were trying to do. Turns out, our king is just a pretty decent guy," he said through his wide grin.

"I'm serious, you should have been more careful. I wouldn't say anything, but I know all about younger brothers trying to cheat their own blood out of their inheritance. If you leave someone else in charge here, you can still go back right now and fix your mistakes."

"What, you think I didn't realize that they were plotting something? One is a bandit and the other a rat, plotting is all they do." Pahuac's grin turned into a sneer. "Even if I stayed in Cashan, there would have been nothing for me to do. I realized when I spent some time with those bastards during the war: They're both sly like wolves. I could never keep up with them on politics. But this is fine too. King Corco, do you have any idea how many soldiers are in that yard outside, and spread out over all my forts? I am in charge of not only the most important mountain pass of House Villca, I also command two out of every three Villca warriors. No matter what kinds of games my brothers decide to play, I can just go home and salt them to death if they annoy me."

"But you're still without any real power here. You can't influence the politics at home at all," Corco insisted.

"So what? I don't want to rule anything, I'm fine so long as there's war and glory to be had. Handling treasuries and foreign relations sounds like a pain. So me and my brothers have an arrangement. I'm in charge of the army, Uchu is in charge of the administration stuff and Guachimine gets to take care of the details with the finance and diplomacy nonsense. We never really talked about it like that, but I'm sure the others are thinking the same as me. All of us should be pretty happy with the agreement."

"If you say so, then I'll just stay out of it in the future." Although Corco looked content on the surface, in truth he didn't believe that such a precarious arrangement would last for long, just like the Triumvirate he himself was a part of. However, for now he was happy enough that Pahuac knew what he was doing, and that the southern kingdom would remain stable for at least the near future.

After their initial talk, the two men spoke much less formally, until one of Corco's guards entered the room with a greeting, to inform him that his invited guest had arrived. With his mood greatly improved, Corco stepped outside, eager to start his negotiations. Unlike Pahuac, he always looked forward to finance and diplomacy nonsense.

__________________________

When Corco arrived in the room, Devaerter was already there and waiting for him. Of course, the king wasn't surprised by his old acquaintance's presence in the least. After all, Corco was the one who had offered a deal to the Arcavians. To facilitate negotiations, he had also asked them to send a representative into the pass. Since the Arcavian nobles would never come themselves, they were sure send a merchant, someone they would consider replaceable, yet competent. As a man with no firm connection to either of the two Arcavian kingdoms, Devaerter was exactly who the Arcavian nobles wanted.

"Official Kolbrandt Devaerter greets King Corcopaca." Even though he had arrived before Corco, Devaerter was still standing by the door and hadn't even tried to move towards the table and chairs in the center of the room. As soon as the king arrived, he also bowed and showed the level of deference one should expect of a common servant addressing a lord of Medala. Still, Corco didn't like the servility. He rarely did, even less so when it was this fake.

"Oh come off it, will you?" he huffed and sat down in front of his collection of goods without any fuss. "We both know you're not an actual 'official'. To be an official, you'd have to be a warrior first, or a knight I guess. Either way, both positions are well out of reach for you. I won't make you a warrior and the Arcavians won't ever make you a knight. And we both know you don't have any actual respect for me either, otherwise you wouldn't be here. So cut the crap and sit down. I wanna get this done"

The merchant seemed unperturbed by Corco's direct attitude. As soon as he had been offered a seat, he took his place opposite the king, with the table between them. At the same time, Corco's aides also took their places by the king's side and two of them took out quill and ink to protocol the meeting.

"I would not have come had I known that I would meet with King Corcopaca. I would not expect a mighty king to be involved something as trivial as trade, Sire," Devaerter said with a bitter smile. Corco wouldn't expect him to react any differently. After his run-in with Atau, the merchant was probably hoping to avoid any more confrontations with his former allies.

"Other rulers don't take charge of trade deals, but that's just because they lack the necessary skill to conduct them," Corco replied in Bornish. It was a language he hadn't used in over a year, but he didn't feel rusty at all. Rather, a strange sense of melancholy overcame him, something he hadn't expected to feel for his involuntary home of seven years. Still, he pressed down his feeling and put his old merchant's mask back on.

"Who here would claim to be more skilled in trade negotiations than me, the master of the Fastgrade Trading Company? And on the topic of trade, you've been waiting in the room for a good while now. Have you had the chance to take a look at our new product line already?" Corco smiled his business smile as he looked at the row of products his men had prepared atop the table.

"Indeed, King Corcopaca's guards allowed me to sample them," Devaerter confirmed. "They appear to be genuine articles of Chutwa. The spices, silk, tea, Chutwa glaze and dye are all decent enough for trade, though they do not appear to be of the highest quality. Further, Chutwa is not known for its dyes, so selling them will prove a challenge."

Despite Corco's claims to the contrary, most of these products were not from Chutwa at all. Apart from the silk, which they couldn't produce themselves yet, the tea was mostly imported from Medala's northern kingdom, the spices were from the Verduic islands, and the porcelain and dye were Saniya's own products. Of course this wasn't something Devaerter needed to know. It was astounding just how much an object's value could increase through nothing but a little rebranding. While Devaerter seemed eager to haggle down the price, Corco understood his absolute position of strength.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"You're kidding, right? How could you say that they're not high quality?" Corco began to argue. "In the first place, how would you know what's a quality Chutwa products and what isn't? I've seen what goes for 'quality silk' in Arcavia, and there's no comparison between that and the stuff we have here. After making its way across the entire world, the silk and tea you get are the scraps of the scraps. In fact, have you ever actually been to Chutwa? Well, I have, and I've been trading with them for a while now, directly. Among the two of us, you're hardly the expert, are you? And come to think of it, what do you mean, 'selling the dye is a challenge'? It's purple fucking dye! If you can't sell it, then there's something wrong with you, not with my products."

For a while, Devaerter remained silent while he played with a porcelain cup in his hands.

*He must really be frustrated now.*

At this point, the merchant must have realized just how weak his position in these negotiations really was. While Corco knew everything about both demand and prices back in Arcavia, Devaerter knew almost nothing about Corco's side, and even less about the distant Chutwa. Worse, with the current state of the war in the north and Corco's grasp on Sinchay, the southern king had a virtual monopoly on trade with the distant west. Thus, predictably, Devaerter switched tactics.

"I still believe that it would be more beneficial if King Corcopaca would just allow our own Arcavian convoys to cross his lands. After all, I have heard that merchant activities are considered very poor form for the local nobility. Something so base should be left to commoners like us. Further, acting as a middleman like this must be a great drain on the southern kingdom's sparse manpower and I am sure King Corcopaca is very busy these days. Would all the necessary administrators not be better served in different positions, stabilizing the country?"

"Yeah, we're really struggling with all these business opportunities, so we better leave them to you, huh?" Corco laughed. "Plus, did you forget that most of my administrators were originally merchants too? They live for this stuff. You're not a dumbass, so you should understand my perspective. If I let your traders cross through my country, all I get in return are some measly tariffs, nothing else. Even better, your merchants are gonna work as spies and tell your masters all about our defenses. I'd rather not have Herak know where my bedroom is on my castle. No thank you, that guy's got an unhealthy obsession. So why would I ever allow you access if there's only disadvantages?" Corco shrugged in confusion, before he continued.

"However, if I play middleman, I get to eat the bulk of the profits, and I get to keep your people out of my lands too. Everyone wins. Well, I win, mostly. But you get to kinda sorta profit too, and isn't that what all of this is about? It's about sharing. Now you might not like that, but tough luck. This is my country, and incidentally also my fortress and my mountain pass. You're not gonna force your way through here. If you have a different opinion, you're free to try."

Again, silence rose between the two men. All throughout the talks, Devaerter's shoulders had lowered more and more in dejection, while Corco was still as composed as he had been during his entry.

"If you don't think you can force your wishes, we can strike a deal instead," the king continued after a short while. "You buy these products from me, and I offer you a price that lets you keep a decent chunk of profits on the resale, like old times. You know my word's worth something, so you know I'm trustworthy. Let's just cut the bullshit and iron out the details of the deal so I can go back home. I really don't have time to spare. 'Cause in one aspect, you're right: I'm busy with a lot of things. So you better not waste my time."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

219 A Route to the Stars

In the end, negotiations between Arcavia and the southern kingdom had taken several days. While Corco had been able to put pressure on Devaerter early on and thus gained control over the talks, a contract between nations was never a simple matter. The exact details of the agreement had been worked out between Corco's advisors and those of the Arcavian kingdoms in long, drawn-out sessions over the course of several nights.

In the meantime, Corco and Pahuac had gone on prolonged hunting trips he had surprisingly enjoyed more than he had thought. Maybe it was because he hadn't had any time to relax in months now, but he really sank into the beauties of nature, while Pahuac and his dogs chased after the panicked wildlife. Despite his lack of involvement, the final result of the contract had been to the king's satisfaction.

Three times a season, the two sides would set up a sort of temporary market at the mouth of the southern pass. There, Arcavian merchants could come buy Saniya's goods for reasonable prices, at least compared to the prices they could demand back home. However, they would not be allowed to enter any deeper into Corco's kingdom, under the threat of death. Thus, any Arcavian killed inside Corco's lands from now on would have no recourse, as the actions were sanctioned by the two sides. If they still sent spies and got caught, the two eastern kingdoms had no reason to complain.

At the same time, Corco would tolerate Borna and Cahlia's occupation of Port Ulta and abstain from military action against them for the moment. While he would not acknowledge their legitimacy – something he would never be able to justify in front of his people – they were safe from Corco's army so long as they stayed within the confines of the one estate they had gained power over.

In return, the Arcavians had agreed to cease attacks on the southern kingdom's ships all throughout the Weltalic Sea. Not only would this allow his ships to sail north to Porcero and the bronze coast on their usual trade routes without interruptions, it would also allow Atau to finally start his journey; at least once the ships had been upgraded.

In the meantime, there were still many more issues to be handled, so the king didn't linger in the hill fort any longer. As soon as the ink had dried on the contract, he began his return trip to Saniya. Though on his way back, he picked up an old acquaintance who had waited for him in Cashan.

"Watachaychay greets King Corcopaca." Even though Corco hadn't seen the young apprentice priest in a year, he recognized him nonetheless. Although the boy had grown, he still had the same bald head, and still the same youthful appearance with the same insecure posture.

"Wait, aren't you the kid from Mount Urquna? The one who gave me his koto when I was there on my way home to the capital? Don't tell me you're here to represent the priests." Even though he liked the kid, Corco was incredulous. When he had sent a runner to the priests and asked them for someone to negotiate with, he hadn't expected some minor apprentice to be sent. It appeared as if the grand readers inside the mountains didn't put much thought in his offer even before they had heard it.

"Master and Lord Pachayawna thought it wise to send someone King was already acquainted with. While this- this mortal is no-one special by hims-self, he is still the apprentice of the grand r-reader."

Despite his best efforts, it seemed like the kid still hadn't fought off his stutter. However, there was no reason for the king to look down on him.

"Yeah, you are huh?" Corco responded. Even though the kid had left a somewhat incompetent, if friendly, impression during their last meeting, his status was still enough to speak for the grand reader of Mount Urquna. There was no reason to play elitist and deny him the conversation now. "In that case, how about we travel back together? I don't really want to stay in Cashan for too long, still got lots of work left to do back home. Some of that work concerns you, by the way."

"This young mortal would be honored."

After he had accepted the invitation, the young priest followed the king onto the ship that would transport them down the Tunki river and back into Saniya. Once aboard, the two entered the king's cabin and took a seat, as the landscape slowly drifted past them in the window to the outside.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Corco restarted the conversation. Now that they were alone, they could talk without all the etiquette needed in public, something he much preferred.

"Yes, more than a year since our first meeting, King Corcopaca," Watachay replied, visibly uncomfortable with all the luxurious silk and satin around him. To ease the atmosphere, the king tried some small talk first.

"It's fine if you just call me Corco. You still playing the koto?"

"Indeed I am. In fact, I play every day." The young priest smiled, already much calmer and rid of his stutter. "Although I am afraid to say that I have not improved much over the past year, despite my best efforts."

"Wait, didn't you say that you were only playing to help you focus during meditation? Why does it sound like playing became the main focus all of a sudden?"

The young priest stared at Corco with a confused look on his face, before his features began to lock up in fear. Maybe he understood only now why he had been sent out into the world by his master: He was being disciplined for wasting his time on music instead of focusing on his spiritual duties. Rather than shatter the young man's world any more than it already had been, Corco decided to distract him. In the process, he could even get to the purpose of Watachay's visit, so it was a win all around.

"You know I called for Urquna's assistance for a reason, right?"

"Of course, King Corco, but even Master cannot fathom King Corco's goals. Besides spiritual guidance and support during rituals, what help could the mountain readers possibly lend the southern kingdom? The local priests of the southern kingdom should be more than enough to handle these everyday issues by themselves."

The mountain readers were the collective group of priests who had set up their temples within the Sallqata Mountain range. All of their temples were placed right next to sites of pilgrimage, and all of them were specialized in predicting the future, which meant that all of them were professional stargazers.

"Sure, the locals can help me with the normal stuff like funerals, births and weddings, but from you I need help they can't provide. I need someone who understands the stars and their movements... or rather, I need people who understand astronomy and mathematics better than anyone else. In all of Medala, the stargazing priests are the best candidates for the job, which is why you're here right now."

"Of course the priests would love to support King Corco, but the seers have their own duties. They cannot leave their mountains unguarded for too long. What would happen if the readers worked for King Corco and missed a vital sign from the heavens as a result?"

"Wait, slow down," Corco interrupted with his hands raised high. "I never said I wanted the readers themselves. I know that's asking for too much. Plus, you neither know what I want yet, nor do you know what you can get in return, so don't be so quick to reject my offer just yet."

"Then please, could King Corco inform this mortal what support he wants?" At this point, the little apprentice boy was gone and had been replaced by a competent priest. It was a strange transformation Corco hadn't expected, but he was glad that he could talk without any interruptions.

"Well, what I need from you are two things: One, I need a formalized version of an astrolabe. Basically, I need a map of the stars and their movements as you understand them."

"That... the priests would be unlikely to agree."

"Of course they would be," Corco sighed. An initial rejection was something he had expected. After all, the livelihood of the stargazers was based upon the preservation of the ancient knowledge of celestial movement. They wouldn't give their exclusive advantages up easily. "Still, I want you to hear me out, and then I hope you can at least relay my offer to them. Here's what they get in return if they help me out. Or rather, this is the first thing I can offer them, and they can expect more of the same quality soon after."

Although Corco held out his telescope towards Watachay, the young priest made no attempt to take it.

"King Corcopaca, no matter how valuable the treasures you wish to offer, accepting them is impossible. Please do not make things impossible for this mortal."

In response to the repeated rejection, Corco exhaled another audible sigh. Although patience had never been his strong suit, he decided to stifle his anger and try the calm route for once. After all, he was the one asking for a favor, not the other way around. Even more, the priests were part of upper society and thus conservative in nature. Most would be opposed to change by default. Still, they would change their minds as soon as they could expect benefits from the exchange, something Corco was willing to provide.

"Okay, I understand what you're worried about. But I won't force you to do anything just because you accepted a gift. Still, since it bothers you so much, for now I'll just lend it to you, no strings attached. Just try it out for a bit and tell me what you think. Look through the narrower end, and take off the cap at the wider end. That's right, point it out into the landscape."

Under the king's instructions, the priest gingerly picked up the telescope and did as instructed. As soon as he spied through the telescope, he jolted back and looked at his host in visible confusion. However, the king only offered an encouraging nod in return. For the next hour or so, a fascinated Watachay keep his eye firmly pressed against the telescope, then pulled back to check the vision with his own eyes, and then used the telescope again. In the meantime, a patient Corco waited until his guest had finished. The route to Saniya was long, so there was no reason to rush. By the time the ship passed Cashan's copper mines again, Watachay finally returned the instrument with a sigh of his own.

"This is unbelievable. How could something like this even exist? However, it is right before my eyes, so the truth shall be the truth. Yet now even more than ever, it is a gift far too precious to accept. It is not something this mortal will be able to repay all his life, and Master will never agree to King's offer, even with this."

"Don't worry, Saniya has already produced several of these, so it's not that expensive. Plus, it looks like you still don't quite understand the value of my telescope. Maybe it's because you were aiming it wrong. It cannot only be used as a spyglass to enhance objects along the distant horizon, it can also be used to enhance the most distant of objects. In all this time, haven't you tried looking at the sky?"

As understanding of the king's offer dawned on his face, Watachay's eyes turned large in shock.

"Looks like you finally get what I have here, so I think you're about ready to hear my offer. If you agree to write me an accurate celestial map, I will have my people build your master one of these, but a hundred times the size. With that sort of telescope, you'll be able to observe the stars with a level of detail and precision no one before could ever have imagined. Even better, I can also offer you a new method for charting and predicting the movements of stars. Although we haven't quite figured out the underlying principles of celestial and planetary movement yet, I can guarantee you much more accurate predictions than ever before if you use our methods."

Even though Corco's second claim about calculus wasn't something Watachay could confirm at the moment, he still seemed excited by the offer. After all, with just a decent-sized telescope, the priests would be much closer to the heavens, and thus closer to understanding them. By now he should be aware that even his conservative master would at least consider a deal with the king under these parameters. As expected, the priest glanced back and forth between the telescope in his hand and Corco's smile for a bit, before he replied.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"And for King Corco to offer up these instruments, the Pacha priests only need to reveal some of their knowledge on the planets, would that be correct?"

"Well, now that you've seen the telescope, you should understand that I can chart my own celestial maps with the use of this tool, so denying me won't actually prevent me from gaining the knowledge. Your agreement would speed up my progress though, which is why I wanted to talk to you first. Plus, I don't want to offend the priests. I would much rather work with them instead. I'm still a Yaku after all. Though if you agree, the map isn't the only support I want from you." Corco's smile widened. To him, the second demand was much more important, even though it would be much easier to accept for the priests.

"Ah, I have heard that King has employed Pacha priests as judges in his city. Would that be the reason?"

"Nah, the judges are just an emergency measure cause I wanted to get the judicial system up and running quickly. Plus, we have more than enough judges for now. What I really need is, as I've already said, experts in mathematics and astronomy. That's because I don't want just a map of the stars, I also want one of the ground. First, I want you to start with a map of my capital, Saniya. Unlike all the nonsense that goes for maps these days, it'll be an accurate one, not some artist's representation full of sea snakes and ancient heroes. Then I'll have you continue to map out the entirety of the southern kingdom, and then, the world. Isn't that nice? If our cooperation works out, you won't have to worry about your status again. You'll have work until the end of time."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

220 Lessons Between Lessons

On most days, Saniya's royal school would be dominated by a studious, but light-hearted atmosphere. However, an air of deference permeated the school grounds on this day, as if all the students were holding their breaths. After all, for the first time since the start of the war, the head teacher was back on campus grounds. For the first time in several months, Corco was heading classes again.

As his first lecture of the day, he taught one of a series of special classes, ones he had arranged to make up for a prior lack of attention put on some aspects of the administration. Yet despite his best efforts, some of his students had proven resilient to learning. With tired eyes, Corco stared at the collection of bald-headed priests seated in front of him. These were the people he had chosen to be his first judges, and he was starting to his regret decision.

"No, I don't 'intend to joke'. Your personal feelings on any legal issue should be suppressed as much as possible. I know you can't always do that, that there will always be some amount of personal bias involved in your judgments. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't at least strive for impartiality. Though at the same time, the laws are sufficiently vague to give you some room you can operate in. After all, you can't design perfect laws that account for any possible human action, so we need some flexibility. However, you need to meet me halfway here. You still need to move within that flexible framework, not around it. If that somehow goes against your personal convictions, you need to put the law above your convictions. As a judge, you embody the law first and foremost, so the law always comes first, and your own opinions are a distant second. You are free to disagree with this view of course. But in that case, you can't be a judge anymore. Not here at least, not in my kingdom. If you consider the role of judge a position of power rather than a natural extension of Saniya's laws, then you will be better off back in the temples, preaching to the masses."

Halfway through his last sentence, the large, mechanical clock in the corner struck for noon. Despite the copious show of hands, Corco slowly got up from his seat in front of the class.

"Okay, that's enough for today. Please try to internalize what I've told you today about the basics of a judge's proper attitude and conduct. If you're not convinced that you can fulfill that role, please note it with the administration and you can return to your previous work. There will be no punishment if you do so, and you will still receive remuneration for the work you've done so far. After all, not everyone is made to be a judge. All of you who are will return here tomorrow, when I'll talk about the proper ways to structure a court case in a fair and impartial manner. Class dismissed."

Once the king had finished his talk, the new judges of Saniya stood up and collected their writing utensils. Paper, quill and ink were always supplied by the school, so everyone had the chance to record their own insights during class. As the king watched the group of hopeful young judges leave the room one by one, a light sigh escaped his lips. All these people had been either apprentice priests in Saniya and the Chawir marches, or traveling priests from throughout the southern kingdom. As a result, all their personal opinions were somewhat skewed in a certain direction.

While he had wanted to establish the judicial branch of his government early, he hadn't expected the war with Pacha to come so soon. Thus, he had been forced to abandon the new judges to their own devices for far too long, without any proper direction. While some of them had tried their best to adhere to Corco's spirit in the administration of justice and at least loosely kept to Saniya's written laws, many had seen their new role as a chance to rid the world of whatever they considered its greatest evils.

As a result, some of the priests had done outrageous things. Some people had been convicted because they drank too much alcohol, others because they hadn't prayed enough at the Pacha shrines. At this point, it was high time for Corco to step in and properly teach his judges a thing or two about the impartiality of the law.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Of course, this was only the first of many different classes he had to teach. He hadn't forgotten about the Chutwa doctors either, and then there was also his regular classes, which consisted of his accountants, his friends and the verdant prince and princess. Overall, it was a tight schedule for a single teacher, on top of juggling all his regular work as a king. At least he had the chance to do some of the work on the go, which saved him some time.

One such piece of work waited for Corco at the classroom entrance, his arms crossed inside the sleeves of his long, dirty gray-blue robes.

"King Corco, thank you very much for allowing this mortal to listen in on your lectures," Watachay said as he bowed. Ever since he had arrived in Saniya, the young priest had stuck around to take in the sights and – Corco assumed – get a handle on the goals behind Corco's involvement with the local priests. Not that the king really minded too much. The grand readers had every right to observe the goods before they made any commitment to support him. As far as he was concerned, this was just good and proper customer service.

"No worries. One more face in the room doesn't make much of a difference to me. You seem quite popular though." Corco grinned. As the new judges had filed out of the classroom, all of them had offered respectful bows to the guest who had stayed behind.

"They overestimate me," Watachay said, his cheeks turning a light shade of red from the attention. "In the end, it is not me they respect, but my status. The grand reader of Mount Urquna is a name that rings throughout all of Yakuallpa."

"But isn't that how the priesthood works? Status over personality? I thought you threw away your old names once you become priests and take on titles instead? Wasn't the whole point that you would become an embodiment of the position and leave behind earthly attachments? Or were my old teachers wrong?"

"Of course King's teachers made no mistake in his education. For now however, I am still far too young for such lofty thoughts. I am only an apprentice, and thus do not deserve to carry a true title, nor do I deserve such high praise from my peers."

Corco nodded his head in response and left it at that. Although he wasn't a huge fan of this impersonal aspect of the Pacha faith, he wouldn't insist on an argument. At best he would seem ignorant, and at worst heretical.

"We have a few minutes until the next set of classes start. Mind eating together?" he asked instead.

"I would be honored, King Corcopaca."

As they walked through the school's halls, the young priest looked entranced by the campus' airy architecture all around them, as well as by the lively student atmosphere. The many young Saniya children who came here to learn the basic foundations of knowledge really added a flair of life and innocence that was hard to find anywhere else in this world. Where but here could so many children just study at their own leisure, without having to fear hunger or persecution?

"I wonder, King Corco... what would happen if the laws were not perfectly aligned with the beliefs of the priests?" the young monk asked out of nowhere. Although it ruined the nice atmosphere for the king, he still had to answer. If he screwed up, it might just ruin his cooperation with the priests.

"I mean what I said. If they don't stick to my laws, they can't be judges. Rather, if they break the laws, they can't stay inside my territory at all. I think that would be the same for any of the priests, whether they are judges or not."

"However, would such harsh treatment not divide the priests into those who are loyal to King and support his vision on one side, and those who believe King to be in the wrong on the other? The priests have always been neutral, an entity apart from Medala's system of hierarchy. Yet now, some of them are employed by the crown, and in real danger of becoming a king's subordinates."

For a moment, Corco looked at the young priest in surprise, but he got a hold of his features before anyone could notice any problems. Of course, more direct control over the powerful caste of priests in Medala was one of the reasons he had decided to give them the position of judges. However, he had considered his approach quite sneaky and hadn't expected anyone to notice for quite a while, least of all a young priest who struggled with the basics of meditation.

Of course Corco couldn't admit his plans, even though he had been called out. No matter how open Watachay may have appeared so far, he was still a priest and would fiercely oppose any attempts to secularize the country.

"I don't think that's the case," Corco lied after a short pause. "In the end, I'm not employing priests, I'm employing judges. It's just that my judges coincidentally also work as priests for now. In the future, the background of my judges will become more diverse, as the education of my citizens improves. So it's not like I'm aiming at the priests in particular. Any one priests who disagrees with any laws I make is free to quit as a judge, and then leverage his influence as a priest to convince the people of the false ways of their king. After all, I have no laws against speaking one's mind. Further..."

Corco looked through the columns of the walkway, past the garden and out into the cloudy sky. Ever since he had gained his new knowledge, he had spent countless hours thinking about religion and what it meant to him. Before the incident, he had been a devout Pacha faithful, so the knowledge of a world without Pacha had weighed heavy on his mind. After he had gone through a prolonged crisis of faith, he had found his own answers, and regained his clarity in the process. It wouldn't be bad to share his ideas with a young priest who still had a malleable mind, he felt.

"I believe that some of the priests are too narrow-minded in what they consider Pacha faith. In these lands, the religion of Pacha has been around for a very long time, for much longer than even the Medala Empire itself. Over the millennia, it has remained true to itself at its core, but proven incredibly adaptable when it comes to details. It has integrated all kinds of people, cultures and customs. If you travel around the country, you will find countless expressions of faith, all under the same religion, and all so very different. Even entire pantheons of gods have been swallowed and declared Divines of Pacha. As far as I see it, everyone has their own view on what 'faith to Pacha' means, and I don't believe the priests should have a monopoly on interpretation. Rather, they should be spiritual guides, to help people find their own way, about what Pacha means to them."

"And what does Pacha mean to you, King Corco?" Before, Watachay had spoken in a more casual tone, but now he was almost breathless, with a deep reverence in his voice. It reminded the king of the first time he had met the young priest at the top of the mountain, so it made him smile.

"Well," Corco began, "Pacha is the earth, the stars and everything in between. That much every faithful can agree on. You priests have spent countless years trying to understand Pacha by staring at the stars, or into the water, or the earth. At the same time, everyone, all the people who were created by Pacha, as part of Pacha, have spent countless years trying to improve themselves and the world around them. That's the natural instinct of people, to strive for improvement, for progress. I think as a society, it should be our purpose to observe and understand the world, to uncover all its secrets, as far as the limited human mind can comprehend them. On a more personal level, I believe that it is every person's responsibility to do as much with their time as they can, and to strive for perfection in whatever they do. Be it a craft, an art, or a science, everyone should aim to uncover all its intricacies and pass them on to the next generation, in an eternal, ever-growing spiral. That's my belief. It's my own, personal answer for what it means to believe."

At this point, the young priest also sported a small smile, to match the king's

"I believe some of the older readers would consider your view quite unorthodox, King Corco."

*Rather than unorthodox, I'm sure some would call me a heretic. How dare I take this much power out of their hands?*

Nervous, Corco waited for Watachay's own judgment. Although he trusted that the young priest would be more open to his unconventional ideas than most Pacha priests, the king's frank attitude had still been a gamble.

"Yet I cannot find any fault in king's thoughts, nothing that contradicts the old teachings. I do not believe anyone has ever thought about Pacha in such a way, yet I cannot help myself but wish to agree with King's sentiment," Watachay said at last.

"Well, you have your whole life left to come up with holes in my world view," the king joked and hit the priest's shoulder. It was hard for him to contain his relief. "Now let's go, I hear our ships have brought home some of the Garum from the northern kingdom yesterday. Ocaza-brand, the good stuff. Can't wait to dig in."

And so, a thoughtless king and a thoughtful priest went to grab lunch together.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

221 Overtime Work

After Corco had finished his dinner with Wachatay, he had spent the rest of the afternoon busied with his various classes. Finally, when the sun was about to set, he had somehow found the time to start on his regular job. As the administrator of Saniya, he would have many things to do throughout the day, but his teaching role was just as important, and not something anyone else could take over. All of the usual responsibilities – from budgets to meetings – had been pushed back all the way to the evening. Even though his newest guest had been waiting in the city all day, the king managed to meet with Lord Macuy's representative only now.

"King Corcopaca, thank you greatly for your invitation." Unlike most high-ranking servants Corco had met, this one didn't seem haughty or fake in the least. Although he lacked proper etiquette, his head was lowered throughout and his tone was quiet and cautious. Not that this surprised Corco, since Lord Macuy's territory was just a small, rural estate. Even among the poorer estates of Sachay, Utusku was one of the poorest, only known for its livestock. Though of course, this was just the reason the representative was here.

"Thank you for waiting," Corco said. "I know things have been a bit delayed, but I wanted to get the minor work out of the way first and make sure we can talk without interruptions. How is Lord Macuy doing?"

"Master fares quite well, thank you for asking. And the wait has not been a bother, King. In fact, Master has decided to buy a mansion inside Saniya should these talks be successful. So this servant spent his day on the streets to find a suitable second home for Master."

"That's great," Corco beamed, always glad to see the lords gravitate towards his center of power. "On that note, I wonder how Utusku's livestock has been doing?"

"Progress has been very good, thank you for asking," the servant smiled as well, evidently happy that he could talk about a topic he was comfortable with. "The mild winter helped, but of course King Corcopaca's cheap fodder all throughout the winter was the greatest boon... as were the enclosures. With the new fences, we need a lot less men and dogs to herd the animals."

*Fewer,* Corco thought, but decided to ignore the mistake for once. He wasn't a teacher, not right now.

"So you'll be able to scale up production soon?"

"According to Master, within two years we will have three sheep, pigs and cows for every two we have now, at least so long as fodder stays cheap."

"Good. Don't worry about the fodder, we'll be scaling up fertilizer production in Saniya soon, so all the fodder will be getting even cheaper than it is right now. All you need to do is keep producing. If you're worried about overproduction, I can buy however many cows and pigs you can bring me. With all of these minor issues cleared up, we only need to bother with the big one: Transportation."

This time, the servant looked awkward again.

"It seems like Kapra has raised the tariffs for travel across the Mayura once more," he said, his head lowered so he wouldn't have to look into the king's eyes.

"Of course he has," Corco sighed in response. Ever since he had opposed Corco during the war and refused to support the defensive effort of the southern lords, Lord Ogulno had become politically isolated. However, the isolation had only made Corco's uncle more stubborn. Rather than apologize and mend their relationship, the lord had become ever more bitter, using his territory of Kapra to put obstacles in the king's way whenever he could.

"It looks like we'll need to work around my uncle's plans. Again." Corco tried his hardest to not facepalm. "How about this: I'll have my workers install a proper road from Saniya all the way to your master's territory, similar to the ones you have seen built around Saniya already. This way, you won't have to transport your livestock through Kapra anymore. Instead, they will be going straight north into Harkay, a small town in the swamps to the south-east of here. There, the animals will be butchered and processed, and the proceeds will be transported over to Saniya via river boat."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Truly a grand offer, as expected of a king!" the servant beamed again, but soon he looked awkward once more. Unlike most noble advisors, this one was pretty bad at hiding his real feelings, though Corco relished in the rare honesty. "However, the cost..."

"Cost should never be a problem for grand plans." The king smiled while hiding his fear of the finance department. "We can work out a deal for the roads that works for both of us. How about this: I pay for all the work done on the road in my own territory. For the roads built inside other estates, the local lord pays half, while Saniya will contribute the rest. The same will go for towers and other defensive structures along the way. I think that's an offer good enough for you to bring back to your master."

"Yes, King Corco. Thank you King Corco. Now that everything is cleared up, I will no longer bother King with my presence."

After entirely too much gratitude and too many bows, the servant warrior left the room at last. Exhausted but satisfied with his progress for the day, Corco sank back in his seat and added another territory to his mental list of acquisitions.

Through the route they had established through Puscanacra and along the western coast, they would receive amber, timber, whales and fish from the southern and western estates of the southern kingdom. Starting with Lord Macuy, they would soon receive livestock from the central lords as well. Like this, most of the southern kingdom was already connected to Saniya through trade. Soon, no lords inside the southern kingdom could stand against Saniya, not if they wanted to keep hold of their yearly profits.

Even better: As time went on, the territories would be connected not only through trade, but also through his ever-growing network of roads, not to mention through communications across his system of towers. As time went on, the estates would silently integrate into one unified kingdom.

With all of these new deals, Corco had also taken care of the city's most basic daily needs. Together with their imports from Chutwa and the Verdant Isles, almost all the agricultural resources they needed would be funneled into his capital. Whatever they were missing in this regard wasn't present near Saniya at the moment. Instead, he would have to trust Atau's journey around the world to fill in the blanks for him.

At this point, it was finally time to focus more on the inorganic resources. There were still many obvious gaps in his portfolio of minerals and fossil fuels, which had hampered the progress of their local industry just as much as a lack of education did.

*I guess it's about time I talk to those so-called geomancers Ronnie has mentioned before.*

Just like that, the geomancers had been put onto the king's agenda, after they had stewed inside the capital for several weeks. He hoped they would pleasantly surprise him.

__________________________

For the very next day, right after Corco had finished his daily portion of classes, he had scheduled a meeting with the geomancers in his study. To represent them, an old man with a long, braided beard appeared. As soon as the geomancer showed up, he seemed suspicious to the king. His clothes were kept in bright colors, with mismatched green pants and yellow shirt. If that wasn't enough of an insult to fashion sense, strange symbols had been stitched over every bit of cloth he could see. This might have been an ignorant person's idea of what a hidden master should look like. The strange hairdo and symbols inspired an air of mystery, and the man's upright posture and tall stature inspired authority.

In short, this master looked exactly the way Corco would have dressed up if he had tried to scam some backwards locals.

"King Corcopaca, this mortal greets you and offers his deepest thanks for all the amenities over the past days."

Although the king had let the old man and his fellow masters wait for a long time, he didn't seem unhappy. He also didn't seem all too concerned that he had been forced to wait for several weeks while Corco had been busy with more pressing matters. Rather, he seemed glad to have received free lodging for so long.

*Curioser and curioser,* Corco thought. Somehow, the strange master only seemed more suspicious the more the king saw of him. Still, he wouldn't judge a book by its cover. That was one lesson he had learned more than once over the years.

"Glad you guys were having some fun," the king answered. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long, but I'm really swamped with work here. Can't handle everything at once."

"Oh no, King Corcopaca, the wait really was no issue at all. We are glad to be heard in the first place. Most lords do not bother."

"Good. Still, you'll be glad to hear that I want to hire you and your people... but only if I'm convinced by the usefulness of your services. Sound fair?"

"Of course, King." Even now, the old man looked completely confident. Even if he was convinced of the strength of his methods, wouldn't he be bothered at least a little? There was at least a chance that it would fail, or that the powerful king in his front wouldn't believe him and decide to punish him for no good reason. Still, at least Corco could hear the old man out before jumping to conclusions.

"Fine, here's the deal: You guys claim that you know where precious metals are hidden inside my kingdom, is that right?" Corco repeated what he had heard from Ronnie before.

"Well, no. Not exactly." To the king's surprise, the old man corrected him, his stance just as bold as before. "It would be more accurate to say that we speak to the earth, and feel the presence of its treasures. It is a delicate art, but one our clan has perfected over countless generations."

"That so?" The king narrowed his eyes. "And how is that supposed to work? Tell me in detail. You can leave out whatever you consider a family secret."

He left the old man an out, but if the geomancer refused to talk about his plans at all, Corco would simply not hire him. However, the master surprised the king yet again.

"Secrecy will not be necessary. Although I cannot talk about the details of the art, its principles are quite simple in nature." The old man took a deep breath. This would be a long one.

"In the olden times, long before the new lords arrived from the east to conquer the lands of Yakuallpa, our forefathers were already present on this land, one of the mighty clans of the Yaku. They were still here when the foreigners arrived to fight the locals for control of the Twin Isles. However, rather than involve themselves in the petty squabbles of men, they walked the lands and spoke to the earth, to honor Pacha. In the process, they found their own methods of cultivation, independent of those the easterners had brought with them. These techniques have helped our clan uncover the real truths of Pacha, Pacha's will. Through these methods, we can communicate with the earth, and uncover its secrets."

The sales pitch was recited with a great deal of confidence, and some details matched what Corco knew of old Medalan history – like how his ancestors had brought cultivation techniques over from Arcavia several centuries ago. As an explanation of their methods however, the story sounded more and more like nonsense. Wasn't this sort of ability far too convenient for Corco's current needs? Why had these masters never shown up before, in the hundreds of years of their existence? Weren't these guys just a bunch of grifters, intent on scamming him out of a quick buck? That was what the entire story felt like; a tall tale, produced by a smooth talker, to earn his daily bread.

The king was about to throw the old man out, but then he thought about his own cultivation methods. Whenever he trained in his family's technique, The World's Embrace, Corco would also feel a strange connection with his surroundings, together with an unusual calm, as if he was connected to his surroundings. In the end, how much did he really know about other cultivation techniques? Just how much did he know about his own? This was the one area in this world where he didn't have an advantage in knowledge over others, so outright dismissal seemed hasty. Just because he didn't know something didn't mean it couldn't be true. During the succession war he had been haughty and it had come back to bite him, so he wouldn't repeat his mistakes this time.

Still – even though Corco would provisionally buy the old man's story – he had to do his due diligence nonetheless.

"Okay, so you can find, let's say, hidden deposits of gold under the ground?"

"Of course we can," the old man replied in a full voice and stretched his spine.

"In that case, why haven't you done so a long time ago?" the king asked. "Why not just get rich of all that gold? You don't seem all too wealthy to me."

In response, the old man showed a perfect look of helplessness.

"Unfortunately, these lands might be the lands of our ancestors, but we no longer rule them. How would we mine the gold deep within the earth, right under the noses of powerful local lords? If we do not wish to face extinction, offering our talents to Medala's lords is the best our clan can do these days. Although most lords are unappreciative of our services."

Again, the king thought for a bit, until he finally took a heart. Even if he was getting scammed this once, how much money could a few scammers possibly demand for their services? In the off-chance that they were right, the gains would far outweigh the potential losses. He just had to structure the deal in a way that would limit the damage they could do if they had come with ill intentions.

"Okay, fine. I've decided to trust you for now, so I don't mind hiring you. I won't have you looking for gold though, I'd much rather you find me some more useful materials. You'll be looking for tin, niter or coal... zinc would be nice, and we're running low on the manganese we stocked back in Arcavia. I'll write down the details in case you know them by different names, or don't know them at all. You'll get a small monthly salary, enough to keep you and your people fed, while you search my lands for rare minerals. Every time you find a deposit that's undiscovered, I'll reward you appropriately. Though you best not let me down... if you do, you will be hit by the full force of Saniya's law. And that force is growing. I'll have you know that we're already training our first batch of police officers."

Although Corco was smiling and never raised his voice, the old master finally broke into a sweat for the first time in their meeting. Even though he would trust these geomancers for now, there was no reason to go easy on them. After all, he had been a bit of a truth bender himself in the past. Whether or not they would prove better people than Corco himself remained to be seen.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

222 Freedom and Burden

For several exhausting weeks, Corco tried to catch up with all the work in Saniya. All day, he would teach his students and all night, he would try to keep up with his actual responsibilities as a king.

Only long after midnight did he have a little bit of time to himself. Exhausted, he would fall into his bed and sleep for a few precious hours, before he would get ready for the next day again. All throughout these weeks, he wouldn't even find time for his music in between all the hectic work. Although Corco couldn't let others see his inner state, the truth was that he felt beyond worn out.

Now, after weeks of this inhuman workload, Corco had finally managed to teach his judges the barest of basics on how to run a court, while his doctors had a bit of an inkling on how to treat wounds and patients alike. For now, the two groups would continue their previous work and gain some more experience on their own. Of course, all of their newest efforts would be monitored by the king's people inside Saniya, to determine who among his new specialists had internalized his teachings and was thus worthy of his support in the future.

In the meantime, the king had left his city behind and escaped his duties to the distant city of Rufalasta, all the way across the southern kingdom. Though of course, he hadn't done so for no reason at all. Rufalasta was a special spot, and for more reasons than one. For one, the city was close to one of the southern kingdom's great sites of pilgrimage.

Two hour's march south-west of the city began the great hot springs, an area of volcanic activity spanning several estates, where sulfuric geysers shot up through the earth's thin mantle and heated up the water to near boiling temperatures, all surrounded by perpetual snow and ice. However, the miracle of nature wasn't the reason he had come either... though he would consider spending a relaxing day once he was done with his duties here.

No, he had come here because Rufalasta was also the southernmost permanent seaport in all of Medala, and therefore the world.

Ever since the Arcavians had taken over Port Ulta in the north, Lord Llasto – ruler of Rufalasta – had become one of Corco's staunchest supporters. While the lord needed Corco's protection from the foreign invaders, the king needed the port to do his trading along the east coast, so it was a good idea for both parties to cooperate. Thus, this city had become the home harbor of the southern kingdom's eastern fleet, and it would also be the place where Atau would set off from, on his journey around the known world.

"You know, I've said it before, but I don't think I need that many ships, to be honest," Atau said as he stared at the half-dozen vessels before them. Five of the ships had already left the pier and were waiting in the harbor. Only the Homeward – Atau's old flagship – was still moored and only waited for its captain to come aboard.

"Weren't you the one who insisted that most of our ships were just sitting around in the harbor anyways?" Corco asked. Behind him stood most of his inner circle to say their goodbyes to the captain.

"Yeah, sure, fine. But six is still way too many," Atau argued. "What will I do with that big a fleet?"

"You're an admiral now, so you'll need at least that many. Isn't more better anyways?" Dedrick quipped. "Why wouldn't you take the free things that others give you?`You're not stupid, right?"

"Don't forget that you represent the southern kingdom, Admiral Atau. You need to travel with sufficient grandeur if you wish to do honor to your King," Tamaya added in a more serious tone.

"Right, thanks for worrying so much." Atau rolled his eyes.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Have a good trip," Fadelio simply said.

"One thing's for sure: If nothing else, I'll have a better time than you guys, with all the work piling up here." Atau laughed as he looked into the distance.

Finally, Ronnie came forward and shoved a vial with a strange mixture in the admiral's hands.

"It is a secret concoction this master has not used in years, so you best treat it with care. If you find yourself in trouble, sprinkle a few drops into the wind and your luck may turn around."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

It was a shame that Brym hadn't been able to come, but he was still busy with business in the northern kingdoms and the way south was a long one.

"I still think you should have waited longer," Corco argued with a frown on his face. He'd rather have his cousin be safe and not rush off like this. Though of course, the king always hated imperfect preparations. "Yes, we managed to find the penicillin sooner than we thought, but we're still not sure if it's even what we were looking for, or if it's working the way it's supposed to. We've only done a handful of tests, and most of them on animals and cultures. While things are looking promising so far, there really is no reason to test your luck like this."

"Yeah, yeah. Heard that one before." The admiral waved off his cousin's concerns. "If I don't go now, I just know that we'll run into problems again sooner rather than later. At that point, we'll be in another war, or we'll have to get around some new trade embargo or what have you. Just how long do I have to wait until everything's good and ready for me to depart? By the time we get there, I'll be old and gray. There's gonna be another crises soon, I can already feel the next one coming already. Can smell it in the air. I better get out of here while I still can, huh?"

In response to Atau's cocky grin, Corco could only sigh. Yet he still understood his cousin's wishes, and he also understood that he was right to go now, when the south didn't have any high-priority work for an admiral.

"I guess you said it best yourself," the king said at last, his mood somewhat infected by Atau's casual exuberance. "The ships would just sit in the harbor and do nothing if you didn't go. Just please don't frame this as if you're running away from responsibilities... otherwise you'll come back and some lords with bad intentions will have smeared your good name. I mean, you're not just doing anything here. You're about to travel around the continents, something no-one has achieved all throughout known history. Whether you want it or not, all kinds of accidents will happen. You'll see unknown worlds and fight unimaginable battles, so you best make good use of those extra ships... and be sure to come back and tell us all about your journey."

"If only you guys weren't the only ones who could see this for the big moment it is," Atau said with a bitter smile as he looked at the lack of a crowd that had assembled to see him off. Beyond Corco's inner circle, there were only a handful of unknown faces, and a scant few known ones. Although the king had invited all the southern lords to be part of the rare occasion, in the end almost none of them had shown up. Apart from the local lord who didn't have to make a long journey and had become well-acquainted with Atau over the months his fleet had been docked in the lord's harbor, most southern houses had only sent some low-ranking representatives to give their king some face.

"At least your family came," Corco said, and pointed to the side where Atau's brother Mayu and his mother Guanca were waiting to see him off. With a nod, Atau acknowledged Corco's hint and marched over to accept the greetings of his family.

"Please do not do press your luck, and turn back if things become too perilous," his mother said, before she added in a warmer tone, "Your family will miss you."

"Thank you. I'll come be back soon." Much unlike his usual image, Atau embraced his mother, before he turned to his brother, the one family member he had always been at odds with. After a prolonged stare-down between the two, Mayu managed to squeeze out a "farewell, and good luck."

Atau only replied with a "yeah," before he hinted at a light bow to the waiting crowd and marched up the Homeward's gangway. After he had watched the admiral disappear behind the railing, Corco observed the few who had made it to the fleet's departure. Really, it appeared as if no one except him and Atau were fully aware of the historical moment they all had just witnessed. Not even Fadelio and the others seemed to quite realize just how much Atau's successful return may change the world.

Since no one felt that the journey itself held value, it was all the more significant that Mayu had come to say goodbye to his brother. Ever since their first, unpleasant encounter in Puscanacra, Corco and Atau had made some progress in their relationship with their estranged family member. While they would never be the best of friends, at least for now they were close enough that the southern kingdom's two most important estates could work together in peace.

"I'm glad you could come," Corco told Mayu. Even though his cousin still had a habit of wearing those fancy red coats, at least they were ever so slightly less ostentatious than the ones the king remembered.

"Yes, there was a need to come and wish him the best," Mayu answered and continued to look towards the ships. "Though I do not wish to summon any demons, this may just be the last time we meet. Even if the voyage was not so filled with uncertainty, it is only proper for the elder brother to see his younger brother off."

"Mayu!" old Lady Saqartu shouted, her stare silencing Mayu and his loud mouth, before she turned to the king. "Please excuse my son's lack of propriety, but his heart is in the right place. He put off a lot of work to come here, which shows his care for his brother."

"It's fine." Corco waved his hands about. He never really expected Mayu to be all tears in the first place. "The fact that cousin Mayu could come today and gave his wishes to Atau shows his intentions better than anything. Though I wonder why grandfather couldn't make it."

"Ah, Elder Saqartu wanted to come more than anyone," Guanca said. "Unfortunately, he has been feeling a bit sickly in recent days, so it was inadvisable for him to leave for the deep south this early in the year."

Corco nodded in response. Although he thought about another sneaky assassination for a moment, he didn't expect that anyone would be dumb enough to try and poison his close family like this again, not after he had solved his father's murder the way he had. Instead, Corco became worried about the one decent grandfather he had left.

"I've recently hired several good Chutwa doctors. If you don't mind, I'd like to send one or two over to see if they can't do anything for him. Please don't decline, the Chutwa are famous for their medicine. And I want to help grandfather in whatever way I can."

"Thank you, nephew. House Saqartu will be deeply grateful for your support."

At this time, the Homeward had already lifted its gangway and its anchor, and had made its way into the harbor to join the rest of the fleet.

"It appears as if this is the end for today," Mayu said as he turned towards Corco. "We will soon return to the west. Spring sowing has already begun, so work will be picking up again soon. I will also need to plan the route for the newly planned roads between Saniya and Puscanacra."

"Get back home safely," Corco replied. "I'll stay behind and watch, just for a little while longer."

As the fleet grouped up into formation, more and more people came towards Corco to excuse themselves. First was the local lord, as well as the representatives of the various estates.

"King Corcopaca, there is still much work to be done back at the castle," Lord Llasto said with a light bow. "If King wishes, he may enjoy the feast House Llasto has prepared for its many guests."

"Maybe later," Corco said with a smile. "Please don't feel obligated to wait on me. You're free to go and do whatever you please."

One by one, his inner circle also left. First Tama, who still had to guarantee the safety of the king's return trip. Then, Dedrick started to curse the cold weather and rushed off to get drunk at the banquet, before Ronnie complained about the waste of his valuable time to join the mercenary. In the end, only three men were left standing at the pier, empty and alone, as if such a life-changing event had never happened.

Their backs engulfed in the orange glow of the disappearing evening sun, the only ones left were Corco, his silent shadow Fadelio, as well as a tall and skinny figure who hadn't spoken at all during the goodbyes and looked completely out of place.

"I'm surprised you didn't go with them," Corco said towards Egidius the clock maker, while he watched the ships travel towards the horizon. "Unknown worlds, new discoveries... I thought that stuff would have been right up your alley."

"Yes, it does sound like it would fit my interests," Egidius answered, a forced smile on his lips. "Yet no matter how much I may dream of distant lands, there is still so much left to do, so much left to achieve, so much that holds me here. No matter how much we wish otherwise, not all of us can set sail. Not all of us are free."

Surprised at the foreigner's somber mood, Corco stared at his profile for a while, to discover just what it was that bound him in the southern kingdom. Although he couldn't find the answer, he still smiled and returned his sights to the ships, longing in his heart.

"That much I can understand."

Long after the fleet had crossed the horizon, the two men still stood there, their hearts inspired by freedom and burdened by reality. They only left long after the day had grown dark.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

223 Please Stay Behind After Class

Chapter 222 - Please Stay Behind After Class

Like grains of sand in an hourglass, Corco's students piled up in a chaotic mess around his classroom door as they trickled out one by one. After another long day of classes, everyone was exhausted and eager to return home for rest and revision. However, the king couldn't share in the luxury of free time. Once more, he would have to handle the kingly duties he had neglected throughout the day. At least today, he could handle a big portion of them right here.

"Prince Wacoca, Princess Sumaci, I'd prefer it if you could stay behind," he called out towards the mass of bodies at the door. As soon as the two figures at the end of the formation turned around, he continued. "There are a few things we should discuss before I forget about them again."

"Of course, King Corco," Wacoca answered right away, though Sumaci looked unhappy. Even so, both he and his silent sister returned to their seats in the front row, close to Corco's desk, while Fadelio cleaned up the blackboard in the background. No matter how casual the king was with the distribution of his knowledge, his rare insights into the world would be considered highly confidential information anywhere but in Saniya. The very least they could do was to erase any easy-to-copy traces the king's teachings left around campus.

Once the two were seated, the king put aside his papers to focus on his students.

"First off, I'm sorry I haven't had more time to take better care of my guests in recent weeks. Things have been a bit hectic."

Although Sumaci looked like she wanted to complain at first, Wacoca preempted her.

"We understand, King Corco. From what we have heard, you have worked harder than anyone. Even so, you much of your time in the classroom to teach us, so we are very grateful for your devotion and have nothing to complain about."

"Yes, King Corco," the girl somehow squeezed out, though she didn't look too happy about it. However, then she seemed ti remember something, as her hand ran over the sleeve of her fancy fur coat. "Oh, and thank you for the coat! It's so warm!" she called, her true interests revealed.

"You said you were cold, right?" Corco joked. "It's the least I could do to make you more comfortable. It's bad enough you have to stay in my city without much to do, so you shouldn't be freezing as well. At least when it comes to entertainment, Saniya isn't quite on Arguna's level yet."

"Although there are not many ways to while away the time here, the city is never boring," Sumaci replied. "Every time I walk through the streets, there is something new to see or do. Every day, something new gets built or developed. It is also good fun to watch all kinds of people arrive from the southern entrance. Eager lords, hopeful peasants and loaded merchants, they all go down the same path."

"Sister, I told you to be careful around the southern city. You should not run around by yourself like that," Wacoca complained. As the southern part of the city was farthest away from the castle, it was also the most dangerous part of Saniya, so Corco felt very much the same as the verdant prince. Still, he couldn't get involved in an internal family matter for no reason, so he just watched the fight unfold for now.

"What can a handful of peasants do to me anyways?" a sulky Sumaci said. "Isn't the city supposed to be safe? The safety is even guaranteed by their king. At least that's what the government people shout about all day."

Corco could only force a smile. It seemed some of his people were too eager to spread the good word. At the very least, he had never ordered that kind of counter-productive propaganda.

"No matter what they say, you can't just run around," Wacoca said. "If something happens to you, father will hold me accountable for it. Even worse, we would sour our relationships with an important ally, only because you were bored!"

"So you're now more convinced of our alliance than you were before?" Corco used the chance to jump in and switch topics. In the end, he wasn't interested in their family squabbles, as funny as they were. Though he was sure to have some ghosts follow Sumaci and guarantee her safety from now on. Just like Wacoca, he wasn't interested in an accident that would ruin his plans.

"Indeed we are," Wacoca seemed eager to follow Corco's lead. "Even more so after the last war."

"Oh, even though you weren't there?" Corco smiled. "What have you heard that convinced you?"

"Well, for one, Sumaci was active in the north and could provide some details. However, the most important source of rumors were the soldiers themselves. After they returned, a good few have spent their days in the new taverns around the central roads. They are eager to tell heroic tales of their victories against the northern warriors, so it was easy to get into conversations. If only half of their stories are true, it seems like you are a far more competent warrior than you led others to believe, King Corco. Some of your soldiers consider you a legendary general already, equal to the heroes of the past."

"That's an exaggeration, and a bad one." Corco was nonplussed. Since he had spent his youth at Medala's court, he was immune to flattery, sincere or otherwise. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm not an especially good commander. We ultimately won the war because we had superior equipment and better scouts. Though please don't mistake my lack of secret lightning powers for the southern kingdom's weakness. I guarantee that our advantage in those areas will stay the same for the foreseeable future. If anything, it's better we're not dependent on a single guy."

"Even more reason to stick with House Pluritac," Wacoca agreed, but Sumaci hit her elbow into his side. Wacoca hissed a complaint at her, but soon realized what he had said.

"Oh, the southern kingdom of course," he corrected his faux-pas. After all, every one of the three kings of Medala was surnamed Pluritac.

"It's fine. I know what you mean," Corco waved off the anxious siblings' concerns. "And even if you were to weigh your options and talk with the other kingdoms about alliances, it wouldn't make a lick of difference. In the end, the other two kingdoms don't have any of the valuable products we do, nor do they have our connections into Chutwa. Not even Amautu is openly trading with the west yet, despite his scholar master. Plus, my two competitive relatives are much too busy with each other to consider something as complicated as an alliance with a foreign nation."

"Is there any news about the war in the north?" Wacoca asked. "How has the conflict developed?"

"Hazily," Corco answered. "It might be a while until we see a winner, though getting exact information has been though. It looks like the two armies were of roughly equal strength when the war started. Though Amautu's sneaky move-in annoyed a lot of lords in the central kingdom, so they sent reinforcements out of anger."

"Hitting someone when they are already embroiled in conflict could hardly be considered honorable," Wacoca justified their actions, before Corco continued.

"The extra men gave the central kingdom an advantage in terms of numbers. It looks like Amautu doesn't have a lot of control over the northern lords yet, so they didn't send any more men in return. Plus, they're essentially fighting on enemy territory, so the war would be even harder on them. Still, it seems like the northern kingdom is holding its own despite the disadvantages. In the year he has been in charge, Amautu has somehow managed to train a large number of warriors. If the rumors are true, they're warriors of exceptional strength, beyond even the greatest cultivation techniques of Medala."

"Foreign troops then?" Wacoca guessed. "King Amautu was always close to Chutwa, so their involvement would not be a surprise."

"No, they're locals, that much we know. But we still have no idea where they came from. Maybe Amautu has been hiding his true strength all this time, even all throughout the succession war."

For a while, silence fell over the group after Corco's revelation. A strong north wasn't good for anyone here, including the Verdant Folk. Even if they considered an alliance with the north, it seemed unlikely to happen after Amautu's engagement with Sumaci had been broken off.

"Either way, I didn't keep you from your dinner to give you intel you can send back home, or give you options for other alliances," Corco laughed to lighten the mood. "Rather, I think we should be talking about my future plans for our own alliance."

"Please speak your mind, we are eager to listen."

"Right, I love speaking, so that's a nice coincidence," Corco grinned and adjusted his position. "As you've probably realized through your own spying efforts by now, Saniya's various forces have spent a lot of effort to get all kinds of trade goods from other parts of the country into Saniya, especially agrarian products."

"What 'spying efforts'?" Sumaci complained. "Of course we would know. Even if our great teacher wasn't constantly bragging about his trade routes during class, some of those goods are from the Verdant Isles, like the spices."

"We've been very successful on many counts, but we've had trouble with a few products," Corco continued, ignoring Sumaci's quip in the process. "For now, most of our needs are met, but our kingdom will continue to grow, and so we'll eventually run low on some of the more important resources from the north. After all, there are many things we can't grow in the southern cold, so we can't just scale up production as we want. And the trade routes to northern Medala are unstable at best anyways. I'd rather not have my economy be dependent on goods from the northern kingdom, not with Amautu's opportunistic tendencies."

"So Saniya wants to increase trade with the Verdant Isles instead," Wacoca guessed, well enough to force a nod from Corco.

"Something like that. I want you to grow all the goods we lack here, and I'll buy as much as you produce. Various spices, cotton, tea... there's plenty of stuff for you guys to grow and for me to buy at a price that will leave you richer than anyone else within the Verduic Sea."

"Although it seems like a great offer, the Verdant Isles are not as large as Medala. There is a limit to what our lands can produce in a year."

"That's not a problem." Corco smiled his business smile. "You already have the space, it's just all covered in jungle. You want to go further inland and make use of the space? I can help you with that. Saniya will sell you cheap iron tools to deal with the trees, beasts and earth, and we'll even sell you our highly sought-after fertilizer so you can kick-start your first proper forays into farming. Doesn't that sound like a nice deal?"

"Yes, having our people be eaten by the insects to meet the southern kingdom's needs sounds like a fantastic offer. All just so your people have enough cotton to wear the ten layers of clothing required for survival in their freezing home." Sumaci's sarcastic voice broke through Corco's sales pitch. "Not to be rude, King Corco, but this seems like a one-sided affair."

"Is that so? You've probably already heard a thing or two about the new discoveries in medicine we've been making." Corco smiled, despite the girl's rudeness. He was convinced they were well aware of the things his doctors had been doing, and that they would have a vague idea about their discovery of penicillin. After all, Corco had been the one to release the information to them on purpose, in preparation for today's conversation. Indeed, the two nodded, curiosity written all over their faces.

"In that case, I'll make a bet with you: If my people find a cure to tropical fever, you'll work with us. How does that sound?" Convinced of his offer's strength, Corco leaned back and waited. Tropical fever was the local name for malaria, an illness that had run rampant among the Verdant Isles ever since humans started to settled the islands.

"That's... tempting." Wacoca tried to remain calm, but he swallowed heavily and revealed his true thoughts in the process. "If such a cure could really be found, it would be invaluable to the Verdant Folk. Thus, I can agree with the cooperation in principle. However, I still need to talk to my father. In the end, I am not the Green King, nor am I any colored king of the isles. I cannot make such an important decision by myself."

"Sure, talk to your dad first... though just to make your talks a bit smoother, I've prepared a couple extra presents. I'm sure your father will like them."

"Yes, father loves presents," Sumaci chimed in to give some advice. "At least so long they're useful. You're not just packing some silver you've plundered from the north, are you? We can get that stuff ourselves, from the same place."

"No worries... let's just say I've put together a package fit for a real captain."

As soon as the king hinted at the contents, the siblings' faces brightened. Both of them had already come into contact with the telescopes, and they could only guess what other treasures the king might reveal to the Verdant Isles this time.

"In that case, we have to thank King Corco even more," an overjoyed Wacoca said. However, Corco only smiled in response. Of course, all these advantages wouldn't come without a price.

"Right. Though while you're already on your way to the west, and since I'm helping you so much, you might as well also help me out a little. Just a little though, it's not a big deal."

"What sort of help would you require from me, King Corco? I will help so long as it is within my power."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Good, good. It's not a big deal, honest," Corco said. "Just... Saniya still doesn't have a lot of ships in the Verduic Sea for now. Our shipyard is trying hard, but construction of the larger vessels is slow... so I'd like you to use your ships the same way you did in the last war. You'll need to help me transport some troops and weapons over to Chutwa."

"King Corco, do you plan to raid the Chutwa empire? That seems overly hasty." Wacoca tried to advise, but he was back-stabbed from a strange direction.

"What do you mean, 'hasty'? The Chutwa are rich, and they're easy to raid too. They never do anything more than talk big whenever we take from them. Now that we've got some manpower, why not take advantage of it?" Despite Sumaci's enthusiasm, the king was forced to reign her back in.

"No, I'm not invading anyone. Wacoca, don't you remember the time we went to Chutwa and struck a deal with them? Huemac, my good brother-in-law, still has trouble with the sects around him, and I promised him to send an army or three to help out. It's time to make good on my promise. I don't want to lose my smuggler's port after all, and losing my brother-in-law might be an inconvenience too."

"Hueatlan is in trouble? I thought Saniya had already sent weapons in support."

"They're not doing great though, even with the new equipment," Corco replied. "So far their city hasn't been attacked, but we just received a letter and things aren't looking too good. Anyways, you don't have to get involved in the fighting itself, you just need to send my people over and bring them back to me, that's all."

"King Corco, you won't be coming along this time?" Wacoca asked.

"Another vacation would be nice, yeah. I'm busy though. Don't worry, I'll send my very best men with you, and... well... whatever else I can spare." As he looked at Corco's grin, Wacoca began to have a bad feeling about his future company.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

224 Strengthening the Alliance

Nostalgia-filled, Wacoca's nostrils breathed in the humid air of his home. Finally, he had returned to Rasacopa, the greatest of the Verdant Isles. While he walked through the halls of his family's palace, the green council, The verdant prince took in the old-familiar sights and sounds as if it was the first time.

Corco's 'best men' had been left on his ships for now. Not only did Wacoca expect to continue on towards Chutwa right after he met with his father, he also didn't want the crew of misfits to create any problems for him on the way. After all, even with the precious treasures hidden inside the large wooden box in his arms, he still needed to convince his father of the alliance's value.

In Wacoca's memory, his father had always been a very calm man, despite his outwardly sloppy appearance. Not only that, he tended towards a conservative attitude, both towards the other colored kings of the Verdant Isles and towards outsiders. He would often probe others before he entered into any sort of deal with them, usually in direct meetings. However, his father's nature had brought them great returns.

Otherwise, they would have never sought out alliances beyond their borders in the first place. Faced with mounting pressure from Chutwa, the other colored kings had decided to lay low, while his father had feared for the worst and looked for a way out of their political isolation. Without King Taoco's decision, Wacoca and Sumaci would have never gone to Medala to seek for a marriage with one of their princes, and they never would have entered into an alliance with the southern kingdom. These incidents showed that his father might have been a cautious man, but he was no fool. If the verdant prince simply laid bare all details of Corco's newest deal, his father was sure to accept the conditions.

Armed with a plan and a chipper attitude, Wacoca marched through the halls in the best of moods, a box of expensive rose wood in his hands to protect the precious gifts he had brought. However, soon a nagging concern burst through and laid itself onto his mind like a sudden layer of clouds on a sunny day.

From his front, from the direction of king's court, Wacoca could hear muffled shouting, long before he could see the doors. Yet it wasn't his father's shouts he heard. In fact, Wacoca could not recognize the voice at all. Still, as he got closer and the ornate, green doors flanked by guards appeared in his sight, he could understand the contents of the conversation, and realized just what kind of pressure his father had been under all this time.

"King Taoco! No matter what you say, your actions have been absolutely preposterous! You cannot make decisions for all the Verdant Folk, even if you control the largest of the Isles. In the first place, why would we need to get this close to the landlubbers from across the horizon? Does the Green King plan to pull away from the Verdant Isles? None of the other Colored Kings are eager to deal with these victims. How many times have we invaded their shores? What happens when we do so again? Will you be joining the foreigners and stand against us? This is nonsense!"

Confused, Wacoca looked at the guards in front of the court room, but he only received an indifferent shrug in return. Maybe these scenes had been a regular occurrence over the last few days.

While Wacoca was still wondering what was going on, the people inside the court continued unperturbed.

"What're you trying to say, Blue King? Are you questioning me, my loyalty to the isles?" finally he heard his father's brash voice, almost shouting. In front of Wacoca, he had never sounded this angry. "What I've done, I've done to give everyone on the Isles a way out of our trouble! We're surrounded on all sides, get that into your head. After the last couple raids, Chutwa put far too much pressure on us and those around us. Even Medala took action against us two years ago. Without allies, we will die, all of us! Our new alliance with the southern kingdom breaks our isolation. I'm the only one who has given us any proper chance at survival, can't you see that?"

"We have done fine on our own for centuries, and we will continue to prosper for centuries to come, even if we do not bow down to your new masters in the east," the first voice sneered.

"What did you say!?"

Inside the room, something fell onto the floor with a loud clatter. Already, Wacoca's free hand was on his weapon, ready to jump in at any time.

"You heard me quite well, King Taoco! The Isles do not need outsiders to meddle in their affairs, and they do not need a Green King who cannot stand up for his people. Someone like that is not fit to lead the colored fleet! Even your own children have been sent east as hostages, how could anyone confuse such an arrangement for an alliance!? As a result of your selfish actions, the colored kings have decided on an ultimatum. Either cease your contact with this new-fangled southern kingdom, or resign as Green king and make way for someone more competent."

"Whatever your nefarious goals are, snake, you won't have any luck here, not in my court. Since you insist drowning in your own pride, more talk is pointless. All representatives can leave now, until they have calmed down and seen the world for what it really is. Although you've been rude, you are all still welcome as guests in my home, but you should reconsider your stances. Otherwise, we could all be doomed."

As the conversation inside was coming to a close, Wacoca used the chance to talk with one of the guards. Since the inner guardians of the Green King were always composed of famous captains from within the king's fleet, Wacoca even knew the man's name.

"Tayali, what is going on?" he asked.

"The colored kings have come for a visit," Tayali answered, concern in his voice.

"Which one?"

"All of them."

As dread replaced Wacoca's previous glee, the huffing and puffing representatives of the various Isles left the court room. They all wore sashes in differently colored cloth around their waists, one color for each of the five colored kings of the Verdant Isles, minus his father. In fact, the man at the front of their formation, the one who had insulted his father all this time, was no representative at all.

No, Wacoca still remembered the tall, thin man with the blue sash and the scar around the left corner of his mouth. This was none other than Raoman Inkasu, Lord of Palanta; the current blue king himself.

*How could a king have come personally, just to insult and threaten father? Does he want an all-out war?*

In shock, Wacoca watched on as the blue king sneered and snorted in his general direction, before he left the king's court without another word. Only moments ago, Wacoca had still been hopeful that he could strengthen their alliance with Corco. Now he was unsure if the alliance would survive the day.

__________________________

After a few more awkward moments outside the court room, Wacoca was finally called inside by his father's aides. Despite what he had expected, his father seemed happy to see him, though his eyes looked exhausted.

"My boy, welcome home," the father said as he embraced his son, in a breach of protocol. "Sit down anywhere, make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you father." Wacoca kneeled on one of the mats in front of his father's seat and put the box with Corco's presents to the side for now.

"Nothing makes me happier than to smell our home's earth and salt again." As soon as he was reminded of his return, Wacoca's face soured. "But then on the way here, I came across several bugs who ruined my mood. What happened here?"

"Prince Wacoca!" his father scolded, "No matter what they did or didn't do, they're still the representatives of the colored kings, and they still deserve our respect!"

"They did not respect us either, how would they deserve our respect in turn?"

The king sighed, which made him whistle through his missing teeth.

"Not all of them disrespected us. I actually knew a while ago that the kings would send delegations to hold talks. But the visit was meant to be a friendly one at first. They just wanted to catch up and talk about the distribution of our newest spoils."

"I know what they mean by clarify. Don't they just want a bigger share?" Wacoca huffed. "The raids on the Arcavian ships have been planned with our intelligence, and executed with our ships. We had no obligation to share the spoils of our work with anyone. We have done so only to quell any discontent from our deal with the south. Yet even though we barely gain more from the arrangement than any of them, they are still not satisfied?"

"For now they're only probing our bottom line, which should be expected. That's what I would do. A few of them might also think that we're taking a larger share than we say and hiding the rest. We can't really fault them for the prove. Since they came here, the delegates have all been reasonable too. Except one didn't send a delegation, the blue king sent himself instead."

"That bastard," Wacoca cursed.

This time, Taoco didn't scold his son.

"Even though he is the weakest out of all the colored kings, he was eager to take over the talks for the other delegates. He came unannounced, and since his status is higher, the others had to stand behind him as he cursed me and demanded all this nonsense. They couldn't say anything, so his words had a lot more impact than they would on any other day. I don't understand what gave him the courage to go against Rasacopa, just to pretend some short-lived political strength. For now though, there is no need to assume that the other colored kings have decided to work under him."

"Yet their people still stood behind him and said nothing."

"Yes, they did." The king's face sank to match his son's. "Which means that at least on some level, they agreed with his reasoning. With the way things are right now, things might escalate things further if we simply carry on as before. We might even get into a war between the isles. That hasn't happened in a hundred years, and now would be the worst time for it. For now, I think we should cool down our alliance with the southern kingdom until I've calmed down the other colored kings."

"Father, that would damage our relationship with the south severely, maybe forever. Their king values loyalty more than anyone!"

Wacoca was shocked. Already half on his feet, he managed to control his emotions and sank back down.

"I understand, but you'll have to appease your teacher for now, until everyone here understand the worth of our alliance. We've gained too much from the information on eastern trade ships. As have we from the trade goods out of their own home and the Chutwa lands. But it looks like the other kings assume they deserve all of this without putting in any work. Once they go without those boons for a while, they'll understand what they have lost, and will treasure this alliance more. Then, we can work with the southern kingdom again. I know this must he hard for you, but this is the only way. At least for now, the alliance doesn't provide enough benefits for us to offend all the colored kings at once."

"Father, you would not say so had you seen their capital city," Wacoca said. "Before you break off the alliance, at least you should see what treasures the King of the Southern Kingdom has sent you this time."

Reminded of his initial purpose, Wacoca pulled the wooden box from his side back onto his knees.

"A present, huh? More dye and silk?" the father indulged his son.

"Nothing so simple. Instead, this may very well be the answer to our prayers."

When Wacoca opened the box, the rare treasures inside were revealed. Encased in satin sat three strange objects built from glass, wood and brass.

"What a strange collection. What are they?" a curious king asked. In response, Wacoca took out the telescope he was already so familiar with.

"This first one is called a spyglass. It lets a man see far beyond the abilities of his eyes. A cultivator will be able to see the world along the horizon as if it was only a wave away."

"Impossible!" Taoco said, and reached for his present. He turned the object in his hands, eager to uncover its secrets. However, before he could truly try it out, his son continued with the next shock.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"The second is called an ethanol compass," he said, with the round glass object in his hand. Its four sides designated the four directions of the wind, and in the middle, a metal needle was floating on a liquid.

"Not a simple compass I assume?" the king asked with interest.

"No, it is not. This compass swims freely atop this fluid, which stabilizes it in any condition. Thus, it can be used even on a ship, even during rough seas."

"...and the third," the king asked, his voice now low and deep. At this point, the experienced captain would be keenly aware of the value these objects held for a seafaring nation like the Verdant Isles.

"The third is called a sextant," Wacoca introduced. "With the help of this tool, a skilled captain will be able to estimate his position by looking at the stars and the sun, within a few dragons of distance, even when stranded at sea."

For a while, the king just sat there and stared at the three objects before him, while Wacoca waited.

"They all work as you describe them?" Taoco asked in the end.

"Since I left to support King Corco in his war, I have used both the compass and the telescope. Their descriptions are based on my own experiences. I have not experienced the sextant, but have no reason to doubt the king's truthfulness. King Corcopaca does not have a habit of lying."

"You understand what this present means," King Taoco asked in the same deep tone as before.

"Of course. These are secret technologies of the southern kingdom. No one but their closest allies should even know about their existence, but they have handed them to us just like this. Even more, this is an invitation that allows us to purchase these objects from Saniya in the future. This is the southern king's present, his offer of sincerity: A way to strengthen our fleets, and prosper together with them."

"What about their cannons? You said they were much better than the Chutwa ones. They won't sell those to us?"

"That may be a bridge too far." Wacoca smiled wryly. The other colored kings may have been greedy, but his father was no better. After all, they were pirates by nature. "However, the King of the South has also asked me to bring you an offer, one that would bring our people progress and power beyond anything we have ever had. Together with the southern kingdom, it may just be enough to withstand Chutwa's anger, and gain true control of the Verduic Sea."

"Interesting," the king said, as his eyes narrowed into slits. "Maybe the days of diplomacy are at an end. Maybe it's finally time for Rasacopa to be a bit selfish."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

225 In Search of a Future

With a bang, Sawo threw the large bag of metal back onto the table before him. The now released copper coins escaped their confinement and danced around on the polished wood.

"There is no way we will give up all our product for that little." He pointed out of the small shop's open backdoor, where Tawo was unloading boxes of soap from the back of their donkey wagon. Of course, the boxes were covered completely and there were no indications of their contents. Products from Saniya weren't welcome by the guards of Kapra, at least not officially.

"That is the exact same price you got earlier in the year." The shopkeeper had a snide look on his face, bordering on a sneer. Although Sawo knew that he was no longer a noble, that he had lost his status of warrior, such blatant derision still made his blood boil. Not to mention, on this occasion, Sawo was absolutely in the right. For now, he tried to control his mood and argued based on reason alone.

"Yes, and that was three months ago. Much has changed since then. For one, your estate's own lord has increased tariffs again. That is the third increase in a year. Most of Saniya's produced goods are even banned now. Even so, their popularity among the nobles in Kapra has only increased. Do you know how much risk we have to take just to get these boxes past the border stations and the city guards? What will happen to us if we get caught? And how many traders do you know who are willing to do the same as us? How many can do the same as us? How many would supply you with these high-demand goods you so crave for? If someone else is content with this little pay, you are free to work with them instead."

After a click of his tongue and a nasty look, the trader stared up at the tall Sawo for a full second, but the former city lord didn't budge. Once the little man realized that he wouldn't get anywhere with implicit threats, he dragged a second bag of copper from the back of his desk. "There, enough?"

"Not even close." By now, Sawo had come into his element, and enjoyed every second and every angry expression from his opponent. "You know just as well as me what has happened to the copper prices these months. Do not think you can pay me in copper coins anymore. I want our payment in silver."

"That spells bad luck for you then, trader." The shop keeper sneered again, no doubt happy at Sawo's misfortune. "There is no silver in any of Kapra's streets, not a single coin. What do you intend me to do about it?"

"No silver?" For the first time since he had entered Lord Ogulno's city, Sawo was caught off guard.

"None. From what we have heard of other places, silver has been running out on many markets within the southern kingdom, to be frank." Compared to his previous attitude, the little man seemed a lot more somber all of a sudden. "I know we are in negotiations, so you will not believe me. But you can go out and ask around on the streets. No silver anywhere."

For a moment, Sawo thought as he observed the shop owner's face. While there was still a chance he was lying, Sawo had built a reputation for his short temper and outstanding strength ever since he had become a merchant. He doubted the little man would be dumb enough to tempt fate. Not for a bit of coin and not for a lie that was so easy to disprove.

"In that case, I will take the copper, but we will have it weighed." Sawo replied. "And you have to pay me two coins for every coin you paid me last time. Copper is getting so cheap people are leaving their coins on the road when they drop them. By the time I make it back to Saniya, your money might not be worth anything anymore."

"That is your problem, merchant. Not mine," the little man replied, but Sawo wasn't one to be brushed off with false bravado.

"And yours as well, trader. I know how much you earn from those items we bring you you. If we spend all our time running worthless copper back to Saniya, we cannot use our profits to buy any more product, which means I cannot come back here with more. If I cannot come back, you will lose all of your profitable business, and all your new connections to Kapra's inner city nobles. I wonder what you think about that."

After another prolonged silence, two more clinks announced the arrival of another two bags of copper. Meanwhile, Tawo had entered the room and brought their own touchstone and scale. They would make sure they weren't cheated on this deal. After all, they had sunk most of their property into their new business, and this may be their last chance at greatness.

__________________________

Although the deal had gone well in the end, Sawo was still annoyed by the shop keeper's earlier attempt to scam him. Back when he had been the master of Saniya – as well as one of Lord Divitius Ichilia's servant warriors – no one would have dared talk to him this way. His irritation was only exacerbated by the donkey cart's constant up and down. He couldn't wait until they were back in Saniya. At least there, the roads were better quality.

"This is shameful." Sawo mumbled a vague complaint to himself, though he fully expected a response. And on command, he got his wish.

"I don't believe it is too bad," a chipper Tawo replied, the donkey's leash loosely held in his hands. "The weather is good and so is the pay."

"A noble master of the city should not be forced to live like this."

"Well, now we are not even warriors, let alone noble masters," Tawo replied, unfazed by his loss of status. "We are not even bandit chiefs anymore."

"Even so, working as merchants is embarrassing for true cultivators," Sawo insisted.

"Maybe so, but what else are we to do? We are no lords, and we are no longer warriors. We cannot work a trade since we lack the skills, and we own no land to farm. Would you rather be a priest instead?"

"Anything but that," Sawo mumbled, which forced a smile out of Tawo. His cousin would know of the former lord's distaste for the clergy. Back when he had taken control of Saniya, the old head priest had caused him quite a bit of trouble. It had taken a timely death from the old head priest and a cowardly successor to break their resistance. Even so, the Saniya shrine would be just as unhappy with a 'Priest Sawo' as Sawo was with them.

"Which leaves us with few options," Tawo concluded his earlier enumeration. "Either we work as traveling folk, or we become merchants. I believe the second option to be superior."

"Still, we are the lowest of the low right now. How could we ever sink this low?" While the few secret stashes they had left from their days as lords had allowed them a fast start, and their unique position within Saniya had given them access to good product for trade, Sawo still hadn't quite come to terms with his new role in society. He understood that they were lucky to be alive after their repeated failed attempts at revolution, but that didn't lessen the humiliation.

"At least we are protected by the law, and the law in Saniya works the same for warriors as it does for everyone else. Even merchants."

"And yet we still get dirty looks and snide remarks from everyone. Do these fools not realize that I was their very master once, feared and respected?"

"Well, times are changing. With the way Saniya has developed so far, there may soon be no more classes at all. I am unsure our status matters too much in the grand scheme of things."

While Sawo declared the conversation over with a harrumph, Tawo decided to continue anyways.

"In fact, we have also benefited from our new position, no matter how lowly. If we were still proper warriors, we would not be allowed to run a business like this. What warrior but us is allowed to own property, and even engage in a trade? Our lives are no longer bound to a lord, and our options are as open as the skies."

"That does not mean I have to like it." Although his tone was still grumpy, Sawo felt a lot less annoyed than before. Their hope-filled future felt like a fresh drizzle of rain on his burnt soul.

"*I* like it," Tawo insisted. "Not only are we our own masters now, our advantages over other merchants are huge as well. What trader will be able to compete with us in the future?"

"At least that much is true," Sawo admitted.

Indeed, as the former lord of Saniya and now as a merchant, he was in a unique position of strength compared to his competitors. Not only was he now allowed to run his own business, he also used to have full access of all the maps of the Chawir marches, and of the entire southern kingdom, stored inside Rapra Castle's library. As a result, he knew all the locations of border stations within Chawir and most of the kingdom, and he knew all the little paths and hidden routes to circumvent them.

Even better, since both him and his cousin Tawo had cultivated in House Ichilia's common techniques and had experienced real combat, they were strong enough to defend themselves from any potential bandit attacks they may encounter on the way. Thus, they could save the money other merchants had to spend on guards.

"Even so. I do not feel like our current state of affairs should be made permanent," Sawo insisted. "Even if the king gives the classes the same legal status, they are still held distinct by the people. You should be able to see how others view us when we walk down the streets."

With disgust, Sawo thought back to all the scornful looks they had received since their fall from grace. Although he would be undeterred by the influence of others and always forged his own path, they wouldn't be able to rise beyond a certain standing if they were never recognized by those around them. Not even all the money in the world would change that.

After all, many merchants in Medala were quite wealthy, and yet they had no power over anyone and were not even allowed to buy most property or luxury products. Even if they could own them, they would not be allowed to display them in the open, for fear that some master of higher status may be reminded of his own poverty.

In the end, the only ways to reach the heights of glory were to either exert power over others, or to win their favor. They had already tried and failed at the first method, so they could only try their hands at the second one.

"Of course I see the stares," Tawo answered after a while of thought. "In Saniya they dislike us because we stood against their king once, and outside they dislike us because we are merchants. Though I assume our trader status does not help us much in Saniya either. How about this." He turned to face his cousin. "Once we have made enough money from the trading business, we can start looking for other work in the city, something more respected."

"Now that is an idea I can get behind," Sawo said, his mood much improved. "Once we have made our way back and unloaded all of our goods, I will get to it right away."

"Get to it?"

"I will travel around the city and see how others make their money. Somewhere in Saniya, there has to be an honorable and easy way to earn coin for two masters such as us. I vow to find it and lead us into a great future."

Though his fist was stretched towards heaven in a great show of defiance, Tawo seemed unaffected by his cousin's enthusiasm.

"First we need to get rid of our product," he said instead.

Sawo looked behind him, into the back of their wagon, where their goods lay covered by a simple blanket.

"That should not be a problem, I believe. The cloth will be easy to sell. Ever since Saniya has started to grow, there has been a chronic shortage of everyday goods. No matter how cheap the cloth is, the people will rip it from our hands as soon as we show up on the market. I am only worried about the amber."

"Not to worry," Tawo said. "Since the amber was my idea, of course I know where to sell it. I have become acquainted with one or two among Saniya's craftsmen. Surely we can sell the amber to a jeweler for a good price."

"So long as they do not pay in copper. We really need to get some silver or gold. At this rate, the copper will be worth as much as a stone on the road by the time the snow falls."

Sawo looked up towards the searing heat of the summer sun. For the first time since he could remember, he felt a strange tranquility. Only then did he realize that their bumpy ride had turned smooth during their conversation. When he looked back to the front, he could see the dark-gray stone roads of Saniya stretch towards the horizon. Once again, they had made it past the border stations, and once again they were on their way home. A small sigh escaped his lips, as he tried to imagine his place in an ever-changing future.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

226 Change in Fortune

After Wacoca and his father had decided their future directions, they had spent the afternoon on schemes. After much deliberation, Rasacopa would continue its cooperation with the southern kingdom. Rather than share all the spoils with others, they would keep more for themselves, and strengthen themselves for all the other colored kings to see.

Thus, once the progress was apparent and the other kings became aware of what they had lost, they would be much easier to convince of the Green King's course. After all, they were pirates in the end. They weren't all that interested in power, and would choose profits over it any day. Maybe the blue king would still try to fight back, but in the end, he was far too weak and didn't have much say in the matter. Without the other kings to back him up, he would be easy to suppress.

However, their decision also meant that Wacoca couldn't savor the air of his home any longer. As a result of their continued cooperation with Corco, Wacoca had to continue on his way, to transport the king's men over to the city whose harbor they had just entered. The green and splintered wooden planks of the port had begun to curl up, even they eager to escape from their dreary home.

In the distance, Wacoca could see the flimsy palisade wall of the city, almost covered by the mud houses that had been stacked on top of one another in a haphazard manner. The view reawakened memories of his first time here, when he had come together with his master Corco. Not much had changed here, though the same couldn't be said for himself, or his companions. As if on cue, a grating voice reminded him of his more recent, less pleasant company.

"That's it? Just another barbarian village."

When Wacoca turned around, his scowling eyes were blessed with the foul image of the man called Dedrick. For whatever reason, King Corco had deemed the foreign mercenary the best choice to lead his military operation in the west. The foreigner was not happy with his assignment either, and had spent most of his time aboard with bragging, drinking and cursing. It didn't help that Wacoca had decided to get more involved in the operation to strengthen the alliance. Now he would be forced to deal with the braggart even more.

"Commander Dedrick, are we docked yet?" another voice came from behind. The young Paec was one of Saniya's local soldiers, as far as Wacoca had been told. Throughout the training and throughout the last war, he had stood out among his peers and was now the most highly ranked local soldier within Corco's army. At least in his case, Wacoca could understand why the talented young officer would be assigned to this special mission. Though it didn't help Paec's cause that he seemed to idolize the drunkard mercenary next to him.

"Almost there," Dedrick said and spied down to the planks below the ship. "I hear that the sailors have a nice tradition. They call it shore leave. Whenever they moor in a new town, they spend seven days and seven nights to sample every bar, every casino and every whorehouse in the place. I think that's a suitable way to discover new places and people, something our army should strive to learn from. Let's have a good time once we're on land again."

His crooked grin was met with enthusiastic clapping from the young officer and with another scowl from Wacoca. Frustrated, the captain listened to more grandstanding from his cargo until the gangway was finally lowered onto the pier and he was allowed to leave the ship. Down on the pier, they were greeted by the local lord's servants.

For now, he and the two leaders of the military expedition would go together to visit Chatra Huemac, Corco's brother-in-law. The rest of their troops would stay behind for now. They needed to at least announce their arrival before they unleashed an armed horde of foreigners onto the city.

One short march through the city later, they arrived at the massive complex of the lord's manor and showed off the southern king's seal at the entrance. Although Wacoca expected to wait at least until their identities would be confirmed by someone inside, they were let through right away, much to his surprise.

*Maybe Lord Huemac has told his guards that he has been waiting for us,* Wacoca thought, but once more the unexpected happened.

Instead of the Master's mansion, they were led into one of the smaller courtyards off to the north. Even so, Wacoca expected neither a slight nor a trap from the guards who led the way. Since he had already walked these paths, he knew what sort of mansion this was: It was the home of Huemac's concubine, and Master Corco's sister, Lady Yasimi Prima Pluritac.

After a lengthy march through the halls and gardens of her private mansion, they had been brought before their host for the day. The lady awaited them standing in front of a large array of servants, maybe too excessive for their status.

"Prince Wacoca greets Lady Yasimi," the prince said, and bowed deeply to his teacher's sister.

"Yasimi Prima Pluritac greets the Green Prince," his host answered, with much more courtesy than a pirate could expect to receive on Chutwa's shores.

Just like he remembered, Yasimi was a tall woman, her posture and conduct impeccable and her dress elegant. However, there were many more changes than similarities that he had noted along the way.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Lady Pluritac, it appears your home has become far more homely since the last time we met."

Indeed, during his last visit, Yasimi's mansion had been left bare, without any decorations. Even for the more austere senses of the Chutwa, it had appeared sparse. The empty, dim halls of stone had spoken of Huemac's neglect for his concubine, as had the few old and useless servants.

Now however, the halls were illuminated by bright lights of warm coals and wooden fires. Carpets and plants had been spread along the walls and floors and brightened the atmosphere just as much as the new servants which busied themselves throughout the halls. Now that they had said their greetings, Yasimi herself led Wacoca and the two warriors to an expensive set of ornate wooden furniture to take a seat, while said servants began to set the table with dried fruit, tea and rice wine for the guests. At the same time, Yasimi explained her change in fortune.

"As it turns out, a wife's treatment improves if she can prove valuable to her husband." A small smile formed around her mouth, not in the least bit cynical. Rather, she seemed amused by her own joke. "Since my brother last left Hueatlan, I have become the linchpin for the very lucrative cooperation between the southern kingdom and my husband. And once he took a closer look, my husband also realized my talents in other areas of business. I have been handling my dowry since my arrival here, and have fared quite well with my initial investments. Of course he would treat me well after all of this. His future wealth depends on it."

"Yet now the wealth is threatened by others, isn't that right?" Dedrick tried to steer the conversation towards the goal of their journey. While he sounded serious for once, he still took the rice wine in his front and downed in one go. Though of course, the controlled Yasimi ignored the mercenary's lack of propriety and followed the flow of conversation anyways.

"That would be correct. Not too long ago, we only needed to deal with the Flowing Water Sect. They alone are not a large threat, to be honest. With just them as our opponents, we could hold out behind the city's palisades for months. With the weapons brother has sent us, we could hold for even longer, even defeat them in open combat."

Reminded of Huemac's new weapons, Wacoca smiled. As the king's manufactories continued to mass-produce more and more of his new flintlock rifles, the old matchlock guns had been replaced bit by bit. Since they had many more guns than soldiers, the obsolete models had been sent over to the Chutwa, to aid in their defense of the city. The green prince wondered what the lady would think if she knew that her brother had only given her second-hand goods.

"Since you called us here, I assume that is no longer the case then? You can't defend any more" Dedrick asked in a straight-forward manner.

"Correct again, my foreign friend," Yasimi said. "Around the end of the year, there was a large battle between the forces, which ended in a grand victory for our troops. Ever since the end of the year then, the Flowing Water Sect has drawn back from its incessant attacks. Rather than try to fight us by themselves in formal combat, they have resorted to raids on the surrounding villages. With sowing season upon us, these raids will affect our harvest for the year if we do not act soon. At the same time, their sect master Ectnare managed to convince the other sects and bandit groups within the Xallisco county to form a grand alliance and suppress Chatra Huemac, the government official. Even their old foes, the sunburst sect, has joined their cause. After all, they have reigned over their little plots of land with great freedom so far, so the resurgent power of Hueatlan is a threat to all of them. Thus, they want to threaten our finances by ruining land trade and harvests until we are forced into a war."

"So what sort of army do they have?" Dedrick asked, now with a piece of paper and a coal pen in his hands. Wacoca had seen these objects spread throughout Corco's inner circle. First only the mysterious Lady Tamaya had used them, but now they were everywhere. Maybe it would be a good idea to get them for himself.

"Their 'army' can hardly be called as such," Yasimi replied Dedrick. "In the end, they are only bandits and thieves. They do not possess any modern weaponry. No rockets, cannons or flame-spewers like the Chutwa Empire's armies, and no modern firearms like Medala - and now Hueatlan - either. Most of them are close-range warriors to boot. The few who use bows or throwing weapons trained only to fight individuals and not in formation. They are bandits and duelists of various sects after all, so they will not have much coordination as an army. Though we have heard that they have ridden elephants in some of their village raids, so caution is still necessary. We do not know the exact numbers, but it could not have been too many. With the sparsity of food along the east coast, they could not possibly find enough fodder to feed more than ten of them through the winter."

"No idea what that's supposed to be, please speak a language I can understand," Dedrick complained, even though Yasimi had been speaking in Yakua all this time out of courtesy. "Is that 'elephant' some new Chutwa weapon?"

Wacoca laughed at the man's ignorance, and even Yasimi couldn't quite hide a small giggle. Still, she did her best to explain herself to her guest from afar, and even managed to hide any condescension.

"An elephant is an animal, as large as a house. They inhabit the warmer climates of the eastern lands, so Commander Dedrick would not be aware of them. The Chutwa and Verdant Folk ride them and use their great strength for many purposes. Among those, war is the most intimidating. The great command teams of war elephants are one of the greatest trump cards the Immortal Palace of Chutwa can field."

"So it's just an animal. No reason to be so worried then. Never in recorded history has an animal played a crucial role in an Arcavian war. Why would that change now?" Dedrick sneered. However, Wacoca was worried enough for the two of them instead. He knew elephants from his home, and knew of their great power. Not even a row of armored cultivators could stand up to an elephant's charge.

"Do not underestimate them," he cautioned. "I understand that on your battlefields, the cultivators might have been the absolute masters, but if you do not respect the power of the elephants, it could spell our ends."

"I doubt Commander Dedrick will misjudge their strength," Yasimi chimed in. "Not after he has seen one for himself."

"Rather than some beasts," Dedrick changed topics, clearly unconvinced. "I'm much more interested in the organization of their army, or lack thereof. If we want to win the war, it'd be in our best interest to attack them sooner rather than later. The more time we give them, the more time they have to consolidate their forces, and to train in formation. That sounds like a hassle and I wanna get back home, so we better get a move on."

"Forcing an engagement should not be too difficult," Yasimi replied in a more cautious tone. "From what we can gleam in the reports of our scouts, it seems like the enemy army also has an interest in an early confrontation."

"Why would they?" Wacoca asked. "Don't they hold the advantage so long as they control the countryside? They can train themselves as they starve us out."

"Their size doesn't only give them advantages," Dedrick guessed, something Lady Yasimi was eager to confirm.

"Correct again, commander. It seems like my brother made the right choice when he appointed you. The size of their troops is a problem for them. After all, sects and bandit groups do not usually start wars, and are thus unequipped to lead one. They may have taken some supplies from the surrounding villages, but the land around Hueatlan is unsuitable for agriculture to begin with, and it is the first season of the year, so there is little to take. At this point, they will starve out much sooner than us, since we are backed by the city's granary. They will be aiming for a swift resolution of the war, and then for one-sided negotiations where my husband will give up his power in all but name, together with the food to feed them."

After Yasimi looked up into the serious faces around her, she offered them a calming smile.

"Though even in the worst of circumstances, you will always be able to surrender and return home with all but your pride intact. After all, these bandits would not dare truly take over our town and risk involvement from the Immortal Palace. True imperial troops would clean that rabble up as soon as they arrived. No matter what, Huemac is still an appointed chatra of the court, so his death would be a slight towards the emperor himself."

"Speaking of your husband, wouldn't he be the nominal leader of our troops? Where is he?" Dedrick looked around, even though he should have known that there was no one in the room but them and a few servants.

"My husband is not in the city," Yasimi replied. "After all, the little trade we are doing with the southern kingdom right now is still not legalized by the palace. For now, husband has traveled to the capital to uphold his part of the bargain and gain an official tributary status for King Corco's made-up kingdom of 'Britain'."

*And conveniently, he'll be away when the war happens, so he will be safe no matter what happens to his people or his new wife,* Wacoca added in his head.

However, Lady Yasimi would be well aware of her husband's motives. If he noted them in front of her, he would only show off his rudeness and achieve nothing more.

"Then I hope he will find success soon." he said instead. There was no reason to worry about others anyways. The war was close, and they had much work to do.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

227 Servility

*Three steps to the left, turn, three steps back, then a bow.*

Although Chatra Huemac was just a small official from the rural and uncultured east, his etiquette seemed well-practiced. At least for now, it was good enough to satisfy one of the most powerful men in the Immortal City, second only to the emperor.

"The Ignorant greet Great Scholar and Prime Minister Zyaton."

Prime Minister Zyaton examined the young man's posture for a few seconds, before he hinted at a satisfied nod. Though of course, Huemac couldn't see the nod, so the gesture was pointless. Even now, the young lord kept his head lowered. His body stayed bent down to face the ground as the Great Scholar sauntered over to his favorite chair.

Without concern for his guest, the master of the house took a seat on the expensive piece of furniture. Made from onyx and lined with countless layers of silk for comfort, it had been a present for his seventieth birthday not too long ago. The inlaid gemstones shimmered in the low-hanging sun that shone in through the narrow windows. Zyaton really liked his chair.

After he had settled down, the prime minister looked at the young lord again, and saw that he had still retained his posture. Satisfied with the level of submission on show, Zyaton decided to acknowledge his guest's existence.

"Chutwa Milintica Huemac. You have traveled far to come here. This scholar wishes to welcome you in his home. Please raise your head."

The lord did as asked. More than any other, Zyaton really liked this part of his work. Most days, the non-scholars who still held on to official positions in the empire would deride the more learned like himself. They claimed that the country would be troubled without what they considered 'strength', and what Zyaton considered 'barbarity'. Yet as soon as they needed him, all these brutish officials would become as submissive as his grandsons.

"Now then, young Chatra," he continued in a friendly tone. "What is it this old man can help you with? What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Nothing, Great Scholar." Huemac bowed again, his feet glued to the same spot. "This ignorant only wished to be in the presence of the great scholar, in hopes that he may learn from his wisdom."

Out of view of his guest, the old man sneered. Who would believe that some young martial artist would travel away from his seat of power and halfway across the entire world, just to meet him? This young master was only a small, local official. A Chatra might be considered a great lord over in the eastern rural lands, but in the Immortal City, he was no better than a pauper. How would he even dare meet with Zyaton over such a trivial matter? How would someone so lowly ever get the chance for a meeting with the prime minister?

Yet despite all that, Huemac had somehow managed to bribe himself all the way here. From what Zyaton had been told by his servants, the young Lord Huemac had started his lavish spree of 'gifts' with the official in charge of the southern harbor's admission as soon as he had stepped off his boat. From there, he had worked his way up the chain of eunuchs and scholars bit by bit, all the way to the prime minister. Whatever he wanted, it would be important enough for him to gift away most of his life savings in a few short days.

Of course, while the bribes might have seemed huge to Huemac, they wouldn't even be enough to pay for the various paintings Zyaton had collected in this single room. In fact, even just his chair may prove too expensive. Still, this request was important enough to Huemac to risk his entire fortune, so Zyaton was at least mildly intrigued. Though before he asked the young man for details, he would collect the payment he deserved for his services.

"Great Scholar Zyaton, this official humbly wishes to show his appreciation for a true master, and has thus brought a few presents. Please accept them."

Although the servant behind Huemac stepped forward with an ornate box of bronze in his arms, the prime minister motioned for him to halt.

"That is not necessary," the prime minister said. "How could a true scholar ask for something mundane like gold or silver in exchange for his knowledge?"

"Oh no, I insist. The gifts are truly not to exchange for anything. This official simply wishes to present these gifts to great scholar."

Despite the young official's incessant fawning, Zyaton made a troubled face and pretended to think hard.

"However..."

"Please master, you would do this Unlearned a great honor if you were to accept his gifts. Please do this Unlearned a favor, and take the present."

At this point, the lord fell on his knees in front of the prime minister. Satisfied with the performance, Zyaton sighed.

"If it means so much to Official, this Scholar will reluctantly accept. Please feel relieved and deliver the gift."

The conversation had gone the way he had expected, yet when Huemac's servant came over with the bronze box and Zyaton opened it, he was shocked by its contents. Glittering and in unusual colors, the prime minister stared down at his bribes.

Laid inside the large box were a total of three objects, each more fantastical than the last. The first was a shiny, plain surface which looked clearer than the most polished silver, held by a frame of pure gold with a golden handle at the bottom. The second was a small vial of crystal as clear as a mountain stream, filled with a clear liquid. Finally, there was another vial, or rather a bottle, of the same clear crystal, filled to the brim with a purple powder as vibrant as the feathers of the splendid sunbird.

"Ooh, what treasures." Although he tried to appear insincere in his praise, Zyaton's excitement managed to break through in his tone. "Does young Chatra wish to introduce the items?"

While he was eager to learn about the nature of the objects, he couldn't be seen as less knowledgeable than some country bumpkin, not even in the privacy of his own home. To his good fortune, the Chatra didn't try to make things difficult for the master, and promptly began to explain the objects under the guise of a prideful boast.

"This official will be glad to do so. The first object is a mirror, as Great Scholar would be well aware. However, this one is made from a strange, clear glass of the far east and comparable in clarity to even the greatest bronze and silver mirrors of the Immortal Capital."

"Glass, yes. Though it does appear to be polished silver," the prime minister mumbled. In truth, he was shocked. Although Huemac tried to be diplomatic with his words and retained some face for the empire, there was not a single mirror of such clarity even within the Immortal Palace.

"How could these foreign barbarians have enough wealth for a mirror of pure silver?" Huemac replied. "No, the object is mere glass, prepared in a special way of their people. That is the reason it appears so exceptionally clean."

Zyaton's excitement was now well-hidden again, but inside he grew even more restless. Since the mirror was made of simple materials, it would be even cheaper to produce than a normal one made of bronze. Yet at the same time, it would fetch a much, much higher price among the high society of the Immortal Capital. As soon as these objects appeared on the city's market, its owner would become one of the richest men in the city over night. But for now, he needed to remain calm, and listen to the rest of the young man's presentation. No matter what, he would miss no detail, and he would not let this Chatra Huemac leave before he had gained control over the source of these objects.

"Continue," the prime minister said in a flat tone.

"The second and third objects inside this box are glass vials made of the same clear glass materials as the mirror. However, what makes them even more special are their contents. The first contains a form of rosewater that is especially long-lasting, far more than the waters used in the capital these days. Although it smells no more forward than any others, these waters retain their scent for an entire day after they have been applied."

"How unusual," the prime minister mused. While he opened the vial and smelled its subdued lavender scent, he hid his real thoughts even deeper.

*Another treasure.*

These days, scented waters had become very popular among the city's upper class. Any improvements on existing versions would get the trader in the good steads of almost any important man or woman in the city. Not to mention that the clear glass itself held great value.

"This Scholar wonders how this sort of scented water would be produced."

"This Official is unsure of the details, as these treasures were not created within this official's assigned county. Rather, they were brought by outsiders."

Although Huemac hinted at the true purpose of his visit once more, Zyaton didn't bite. After all, there was still one treasure to unearth.

"What is unique about this product then?" the prime minister asked with great anticipation. By now, only the large glass bottle with the purple substance was left. "How have these grains been colored in such a vibrant purple?"

"The contents are not colored, Great Scholar. They are the dye itself."

"All of this?" Zyaton was so shocked that he forgot to pretend complete knowledge for a moment, and allowed for a real question in his words. His excitement was no wonder, since the bottle was the size of a small jug of rice wine, filled to the brim. Such an amount of purple dye would be enough to buy a small property within the Immortal City, yet this lowly official before him was giving it away for free. Although it took Zyaton a while, he managed to hide his heavy breath and reign in his greedy thoughts. He had to find out more details, so it was time to ask the young noble about the purpose of his visit.

"In that case, this scholar wonders where such a treasure may hail from. This scholar assumes it was also not produced inside Chatra's administration."

"That is correct, Great Scholar. Great Scholar's wisdom knows no bounds," Huemac flattered with a small, self-satisfied smile. "All of these treasures were in fact gifts this official received from far-off travelers, men who hail from a small kingdom in the far east, called the Kingdom of Britain."

"And over there, they have special methods for the production of such a high-quality dye?" Zyaton's eyes narrowed.

"As far as they told this lowly official, it appears there exists a special type of stone near their home which contains this color. They only need grind it into a powder to achieve such an effect."

"How peculiar. And where would such a mystical land lie?"

"Far, far in the east, far beyond even the Verduic Sea. In truth, this Unlearned does not know the details, so they may as well have come from the end of the world."

"Hmmm... and these strange men managed to find themselves all the way in Chutwa? What a peculiar coincidence."

"It appears that even as far away as their home, all mouths spread tales of Chutwa's greatness. Entranced by Chutwa's majesty, they loaded their ships and went in search for it, to pay their respects to the Immortal Emperor and see the wonders of his prosperous empire. However, on their way here they were troubled by many hardships. Worst of all were the pirates which plague the eastern shores. Some pirates spotted the lone foreign vessel and deemed it easy prey."

"How dare they!" Zyaton's fist hit his expensive chair, which showed his real anger. The pirates had been a problem in the east for a long time. While he wouldn't care much about such trivialities otherwise, this time they ha interfered with the prime minister's next great source of wealth. Maybe it was time to clean up the Verduic Sea, he thought.

"Indeed, they are unruly and disrespectful," Huemac agreed. "As luck would have it, they were spotted by one of this administrator's own vessels and were thus saved, so they still made it onto our shores without harm. This servant has come to the Immortal Capital in their name, to plead their case. They hold the sincere wish to show their appreciation for the Immortal Emperor, and they wish for nothing more than the honor to beg for the status as one of Chutwa's great tributary nations."

"If they are so intent on worship, why did they not come themselves?"

"After their arrival, we informed them of the proper etiquette expected of guests, as any good official would. No foreigner is allowed onto Empire lands without express permission, that is the law. Even as an Unlearned, this official would always keep the laws in mind. Thus, they are left stranded aboard their ship even now, anchored in Huetalan's harbor."

"And they have brought more of these treasures with them, I assume." Zyaton leaned forward.

"Indeed they have. They intend to trade them with the empire, in return for access to some of Chutwa's great goods, and in exchange for the exalted status they oh so crave."

"Hmmm... I understand why you have come, but I cannot make you any promises. The Immortal Emperor is too busy in his attempts to understand the true nature of the world. He cannot be bothered by trivial issues like a few curious outsiders, no matter how rich they may be," the scholar said, and then leaned back in his seat again. Silence spread between the two men, while Zyaton hoped that the uneducated rural administrator would understand his meaning. He hated the dull, and he hated lack of subtlety even more. To his good fortune, even the slow-witted Huemac managed to follow along with his thoughts.

"Ah, please do not misunderstand, Great Scholar," he said. "This Unlearned has not come to ask for an audience with the great Emperor himself, he would never dare. Instead, this Unlearned has been worried about the best way to distribute these trade goods throughout the empire, so that all of Chutwa's officials and scholars may partake in their uniqueness. Such distribution would need to start from the Immortal Capital, the center of the empire. Yet this Official is friendless and unlearned, and thus incapable of handling such work by himself. Thus, this Unlearned wondered if great scholar would lend his support, and handle the distribution in his stead."

Finally satisfied by the offer, Zyaton's stern face turned into the smile of a wise, benevolent teacher. Now that he received his cut of the profits, there was no more reason to make things difficult for his guest.

"How could this scholar reject such a sincere request? As for the matters of the emperor, this official will attempt to inform the Immortal One of this issue if he finds the time. After all, guests are always welcome in front of the courts, even more so if they understand their place in the world, within the warm embrace of the empire."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

228 Real Power

Deep within the Immortal Palace, through unused halls and behind unopened doors, was hidden a special room. Only a select few knew of its location, even among the high-ranking officials of the Immortal Capital. On most days, the room would be left abandoned. Yet today, seven figures had met around the ancient stone table for a meeting as secret as the spot they had met in.

"Brother Acalan, you have arrived late." Prime Minister Zyaton sat at the head of the table, with five others seated around him. All of them were old men, all of them draped in expensive cloths, and all of them great scholars of the Empire, as was the man who had just arrived.

"This master has many matters of his own to attend to, Zyaton. The last meeting of scholars took place less than a moon ago, so why do you call the council together once more? And do not pretend it to be a matter of importance. Nothing of note has happened in the empire, or this master would be informed before anyone here."

While the old man left his snarky comments, he took a seat among his peers, one of them with a mischievous grin on his face.

"If Brother Acalan is upset already, then brother truly will be displeased once he learns of Brother Zyaton's reason to call for the meeting," the grinning scholar said.

"What is it then? What could be so important to call everyone here?" Acalan asked as he reached for the tea that already sat prepared for him.

"Today, all the great scholars of the empire have been called together because one of Chutwa's eastern lords has approached this official with a peculiar request," Zyaton began his explanation.

"Something big enough to call together the Scholar's Council?" Acalan huffed as he sipped his tea.

"The request itself is not a large matter, but its implementation breaks with current Chutwa laws and traditions. Thus, it requires approval from the entire council first."

"Then what is there to discuss?" Acalan huffed and cracked his cup as he smashed it onto the stone table. "The traditions need to be respected, and this master has his own work to attend to!"

"However, the issue is minor, and the laws broken are such that no one would ever know. Even more, if the matter is handled the right way, it would be to great benefit to the entire empire."

Since Acalan only glared in response, another scholar sighed and chimed in.

"Brother Zyaton, please tell everyone about the details of this request. This master is eager to know."

With a thankful nod to his brother, the prime minister continued.

"A few days prior, a foreign nation has arrived on the empire's shores, eager to beg the Emperor so they may become one of his tributaries."

"So let them," the scholars replied. "The law has never prevented any lesser nations from entering beneath the glorious shadow of the empire, has it?"

"No, it has not," Zyaton confirmed. "However, they want more than just pay tribute. They want to officially trade with the empire."

"Ridiculous!" Acalan shouted as he jumped up. "Zyaton, you spent moons blocking my motion to introduce Medala as a new tributary to the empire, yet now this council discusses some unknown country's application, and even grants them special treatment!? Do these foreigners believe they deserve to be treated as equals!? In the history of the immortal dynasty, no foreign lands have been allowed such an exalted status!"

"Brother Acalan, please calm yourself," the prime minister sighed. It was true that Medala's request for tributary status had been put on hold, but only because Acalan had refused to pay the bribes that would be customary for such a case. Zyaton suspected that Acalan had pocketed most of the tributes from Medala for himself instead, but for now the prime minister would pacify his brother and forget about his greed. After all, Zyaton needed support for his motion as well.

"Brother, once this issue is cleared up, the council can also discuss Medala's new status in today's meeting. Please don't consider this a slight against brother." He watched with cold eyes as Acalan sat back down, still in a huff. Only then did Zyaton continue.

"As for the foreigners, they will not be treated as equals. How could they? They are just barbarians who wish to bask in the glow of the empire. They do not plead for any more than the status of a tributary. However, they want the right for free traders from their lands to trade with the empire in a private fashion, in one specific port of the empire. While this request breaks with tradition somewhat, it should be a minor issue. Already, private traders come and go along the empire's borders all the time, we would simply formalize such action in this one instance."

"Even so, their actions go against established law. How could we let them?" Acalan insisted.

"Before Brother continues, he should observe the products they wish to transport into the empire, and judge their value for himself."

"Ha, what could some barbarians possibly have to offer that Chutwa's lands or people could not provide?"

"Brother Acalan should please inspect them for himself," Another of the scholars said as he handed Acalan several small objects.

"And what are these toys?" he asked, as he held up a mess of gears, ticking and clicking away.

"To this scholar, it was introduced as a watch the foreigners have built from metal," Prime Minister Zyaton explained.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"What an abhorrent mess of noise and movement. There is no elegance to this primitive construction, is there? Why not simply use a water clock? The masterful devices of the empire are far more accurate and don't produce such an infernal noise," Acalan claimed.

"If nothing else, it makes for a novel toy," Zyaton argued, before a smirk stole itself onto his face. "Somehow, the foreigners thought they could impress the mighty Empire with these little tricks. However, the value of their submission lies in the other products they brought along."

Again, the helpful scholar brought the rest of the objects in front of Acalan, and introduced them one by one.

"Glass as clear as water, and rare dyes in large amounts. Would the empire not benefit greatly from such treasures?"

"Impossible. How could barbarians produce something of such value, when even the crafters of the Empire have not achieved similar feats," and incredulous Acalan asked. Zyaton was eager to explain.

"It certainly would not be due to their ingenuity. Instead, it appears as if the purple dye simply comes from a purple kind of earth found in the homeland of these foreigners. If this scholar had to guess, the glass is similarly made from a unique type of sand which creates this clear color. After all, the glass made by Chutwa's great crafters can also be brown or green, dependent on the type of earth used for its creation."

"Those are words of sense indeed," another scholar helped out. "A nation with such rare earths would be a grand follower of the Empire, one to be cherished."

"Righteously spoken, brother. Yet with only the yearly tribute, their contributions to the empire would be far less than what could be gained through trade," Zyaton completed his argument.

"Wealth and rank are desired by men, yet unless they be obtained in the right way, they may not be possessed," one of the scholars spoke up. It was a direct quote from the ancestors, but Zyaton knew exactly what the masters wanted.

"Of course, some proceeds from the trade should be handed to finance the education of scholars, to further the prospects of the entire Empire," the prime minister added in response to the vague comment. "This scholar intends to make a yearly, sizable donation to the imperial academy in the name of the new foreign tributary."

"Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in perfection, and a happy order will prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all things will be nourished and flourish," the scholar quoted another passage as he leaned back with a smile.

Now that three of his brothers had been pacified, they were getting into the details of the cooperation.

"Which port should be designated to trade with these foreigners?" another scholar asked.

"Chatra Huemac's port already houses the foreigners, and this scholar believes it to be a suitable location."

"Whose follower is he?"

"Chatra Huemac is irrelevant, just some small-time administrator with no power. Most of all, he has no backers, and is thus neutral. This scholar believes him to be the best candidate."

Confronted with Zyaton's argument, the scholar nodded. Since Huemac was neutral and weak, the precarious balance of powers within the capital wouldn't be affected by the new influx of wealth.

"Even so, we need to guarantee that they do not drain any gold or silver from the empire," the oldest of the scholars added. "After all, this was the very reason the ancestors implemented the tributary system. No wealth is to leave the empire, or the foreign hounds may use tricks to bleed it dry on the borders, where the eyes of the Palace cannot reach."

"A passage could be added to the final agreement to guarantee they are to not carry away any precious metals on their ships," the prime minister suggested. "Apart from a few rare earths, the foreigners do not have much to offer anyways. They will trade all their wealth for the great products of Chutwa's talented artisans. Whether they fill their ships with silk, Chutwa glaze or tea is immaterial. Maybe they could even buy some proper clocks to replace their toys with."

All scholars chuckled at Zyaton's joke, all except Acalan.

"Now then, is everyone in agreement and ready to accept the foreign nation of Britain as a tributary?"

"This scholar still has concerns."

As expected, the spoilsport spoke up once more.

"What is it, Brother Acalan?" a patient Zyaton replied.

"For months now, this master has attempted to transform the Medala kingdom into a tributary of Chutwa, under the urgent begging of their King Amautu. Yet time and again, this master's attempts have been blocked."

"If Brother is so insistent, then this scholar agrees to add this 'Medala Kingdom' to the list of Chutwa's tributaries," he agreed. "However, all your brothers have done you a favor in the process."

"This master has no more concerns," Acalan finally conceded as he leaned back in his chair with a smug grin on his face. Now that even Acalan had been won over, Prime Minister Zyaton had done the hard part. Once the ink had been put to paper, it was time to pay a visit to the Immortal Emperor. After all, the scholars still weren't quite in charge of the Empire. They still needed the Emperor's seal to finalize their decisions.

__________________________

The Immortal Emperor's throne room was off-limits for most people. Apart from the emperor's personal servants and a handful of selected acolytes, only the Prime Minister was allowed to enter once a day for one hour, to receive his orders on how to adjudicate the empire and its people. The rest of the Immortal Emperor's time was spent entirely on his cultivation. As an ever-lasting being, the great Emperor spent all his days in search for the eternal truths of the world, to the benefit of his subjects. At least that was the story told on the streets.

The first thing Zyaton always noticed when he entered the emperor's room was the smell. The air was heavy and stale, filled with the sickly-sweet scent of the incense sticks lined around the entirety of the giant hall. Yet at the same time, the torches which illuminated the room all throughout and had stained the wooden walls black with soot produced their own, unpleasant odor. Though worst of all were all the young mortals who sat in a semi-circle around the emperor's dais and waited on their master in the center. They had been stuck in here for days, some even for months. As a result, the air was drenched in the sour stench of their sweat and piss, something not even all the torches and incense managed to suppress.

Prime Minister Zyaton stood to the side for now, and pushed a small bell by the entrance. It was a signal that would prompt the emperor to halt in his cultivation and fulfill his duties as ruler, though of course stopping the process would always take time. While he looked at the old man's silhouette atop his throne behind the curtains of silk, the Prime Minister mused over the genius nature of his Emperor's cultivation techniques. It truly had been the greatest thought their ancestors had ever conceived.

Back then, several hundred years ago, the scholars were powerful within the empire, but they were still not the ones in charge of policy. Despite all the advances they had brought to Chutwa, despite their great achievements for the benefit of the people, they still had to bow before an Emperor, such an archaic holdover from an ancient era. More than once, emperors would be unhappy with the influence and wisdom the great scholars held within their courts, and would begin unreasonable campaigns to limit their power. Some would even imprison, even kill the great scholars for daring to move the empire's nature closer towards enlightenment, against the archaic emperor's will.

Yet then, his forefathers saw a chance, and found an incredible method to create a perfect, immortal empire. At the time, Emperor Ilhicatl had become an old man and thus searched for a method to reach immortality, like so many had before him. Yet unlike before, the scholars had no longer denied him their wisdom. This time, they had given him just what he had wanted: In their greatness, they had developed a technique that would promise eternal life. In return, all it cost was the life of a handful of ordinary commoners.

As the prime minister was thinking, one of the mortals around the emperor's dais collapsed. The servants in the corner of the room stood ready and acted as they always did. While no one around the corpse reacted, the body was carried away and stacked on top of another who had met the same fate earlier. Every day, two or three of these commoners would give their lives to extend that of their emperor. This was not done in secret, and they would be happy to do so. It was considered a great honor for them to be chosen as the emperor's acolyte, and losing a thousand or so commoners every year wasn't any harm on the empire either. There were far too many of these people either way, so the solution brought happiness to all.

However, even with all of the sacrifices in his name, even with all of these tricks and tribulations, the emperor had to spend almost all his time on the extension of his lifespan. Every time he told outsiders about the emperor's 'search for eternal truths', Zyaton had to stifle his laughter. All the old man did was spend every waking moment clinging on to life. By now, all his wives and concubines had long perished. Even all his offspring had succumbed, either to old age, or to one of many strange accidents over the years.

By now, he was the only one left, the last of his line. Though of course, no one was bothered by this lack of an heir, for the emperor was immortal. And all his immortality had cost him were his life and his power. Now, all he had left beyond food, sleep, and cultivation was about an hour every day he could use on other tasks, not enough to care about the empire or even understand it. The time was just barely sufficient to put his seal and sigil beneath the laws the scholars had worked out for him. Thus, he was stuck in eternal search of true immortality, with the country in the hands of those who had been destined to rule it.

A small smile formed on Zyaton's face as he watched the old man's silhouette bend over his throne and expel a rough, throaty cough. The prime minister clutched the stack of papers brought for the Immortal Emperor to sign. It was time for the old man to fulfill his duties.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

229 Honorable Battle

"I really don't like these types of tricks, you know?"

Dedrick's eyes flew past the nasty bog all around them. Although most of the land around Huetalan was arid, this small area a few hours north-west of the city sat in a basin near the largest river in the county. As a result, it collected the groundwater and turned the surroundings into a mess of muddy earth. Since the Chutwa in this area grew a lot of rice, it was a perfect environment for farming, so the whole basin had been turned into rice paddy fields, with elaborate canal systems for the water all throughout.

However, ever since the combined troops of Hueatlan and Saniya had arrived here, they had begun to construct their defenses. After Corco had reformed his army into a professional troop of commoners, he made all soldiers carry a small, extendable shovel with them. Equipped like that, they had no trouble adapting the surroundings to create an advantage for themselves.

As a result of their efforts over the past few days, the orderly rice paddy fields had been flooded and turned into an impassible swamp. Only a thin strip of elevated land between the former fields remained dry. Outside of this single east-west facing road, there was no other way for an army to reach their position, or the village behind them. However, that wasn't enough of a defense for their commander yet. Even now, their soldiers were still busy moving the earth from the fields onto the path close to their camp, where they had created a rampart of dirt, surrounded by a moat on three sides. Only the path north, into the camp and the village behind it, still remained untouched. It looked like a death trap, and Dedrick wasn't a fan.

"General, while I respect your opinion, we're only doing what we need to win," Paec answered.

"I get that I have more of an overseer function here, and you were put in charge of the actual operations, but I can still speak my mind if I don't like something. And there isn't a thing you can do about it," Dedrick complained. Even though he understood that Corco would need more than just one capable general in the future; even though he understood this was a good chance to get Paec some experience, he really didn't enjoy his role as guardian, especially since his ward had some nasty ideas about warfare.

"I see what you're trying to do here," he continued. "Your enemies are gonna struggle through the moat and up the rampart to make it to our troops. They won't be able to take advantage of their larger numbers, and as they either rush through up the defenses or through the bog and past them, they will get drained of their strength and get stuck. Many will die, as retreat won't be an option. They won't only die, they'll die humiliated and impotent, with their faces in the dirt."

"Whatever it takes to defeat the enemy," Paec replied in an unimpressed tone.

"You know, where I come from, we have rules for war. We're not just mindlessly killing each other. I don't mind fighting an army in the way you've set up here, cause soldiers know what they're getting into. But the guys we're about to fight aren't soldiers. They're cultivators, martial artists. And any proper cultivator lives by a code. I've fought battles in a lot of countries, the experts in every culture have proven honorable and principled. Just feels wrong to kill good knights like this. Feels cheap too. Any proper man of the battlefield, whether they call themselves warriors or knights or martial artists, deserves to be treated with honor and respect."

"In that case, you should complain to King Corco, General Dedrick," Paec answered as he looked around impatiently. "After all, the setup for the battlefield has been inspired by King Corco's own strategies during the last war with the north."

"Well, that does sound like Corco alright." Dedrick sighed. "I was never been the biggest fan of Corco's strategies, you know? Even back in Arcavia, our great king always relied on one-off tricks rather than solid strategy to win our battles. Sure, these tricks might work once or twice, but eventually his enemies will wizen up to his antics. As soon as that happened, he's screwed, and all of us with him. It's better to fight in a more honorable way, with proper strategy. That way, you can win even if your enemy knows your plans. It's also better on your conscience. We're no animals after all."

"So long as victory can be guaranteed, I think everything would be fine," Paec replied. "Honor is for the warriors anyways, and not something a commoner like me should worry about. And as King Corco says, there is no limit to human ingenuity. Even if we rely on one-off tricks, they would last for an entire lifetime so long as we have enough of them."

"Right, just do what you have to then." Dedrick decided to not insist on his opinion. In the end, Paec was right. How could a commoner understand the values of a knight like himself?

"Rather than our defenses, I'm worried that the sects won't move like we expect," Paec said, himself eager to change topics. "What do we do if they fail to take the bait we have laid out? How likely is it we are wrong?"

As they talked, they began to scale the rampart towards their camp. With Paec's heavy breathing in his ears, a casual Dedrick explained.

"Well, that depends on the accuracy of the local lady's information. If what Lady Yasimi says is true and the other side's running out of food and money, they'll have to force a fight yesterday, if they can. We've set up an advanced camp in the village after all, and we've made sure the information spreads so the sects learn about it. Once they know, there's not really an option to sit still. The consequences are too severe. If they let us establish our outpost, we can use it to strike at their own homes. Then we can attack and plunder all the undefended sects and clans in the region however much we want. What if half their alliance runs back home in response? That'd be a real blow to their unity, something their leaders can't ever allow. On the other hand, our outpost is set up long-term, so they'd know it holds a lot of food and other supplies for our campaign. That's plenty of pretty plunder for them to take. If they really lack food, and if they really want a quick battle, they have every reason to show up here."

"And what if... they do not?" Paec repeated with an uneven, breathy voice. After they had climbed the rampart, they took a short break for the mortal to regain his composure.

"Well, worst case, we can always just retreat and make a new plan." Dedrick shrugged. "Our scouting is much better than theirs, so I doubt they can hide the advancement of their giant army from us. That means no surprises. Also, we don't really have any reason to force a fight if things look bad. We can hold out a long time in Hueatlan. And if we run out of supplies, we can just get more from Saniya."

"Let's hope you are right, General. However good our plans are, there are always things our enemies consider that we could never think of. Everyone knows something you do not. Those are the words of King Corco."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Of course they are." Dedrick rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I've been doing this for a while. Don't think I can't deal with some loose cultivators, no matter how honorable they are."

Like an enticement for their enemies, the two left their footsteps in the muddy soil, up the rampart and into their camp, inviting the enemy to follow along.

__________________________

After nightfall, four shadows snuck up the path towards the rampart, always following the footsteps in the mud. The ground below their feet distorted under their weight, but the moist earth somehow remained silent, as did the clothes and even the breath of the shadowy figures.

Up above the earthen elevation, the four found the army camp built inside the village, right behind the rampart. The improvised defenses of wooden poles and earth in between individual houses could be considered a decent protection against most enemies, but they proved worthless against the hidden masters.

With all the scouts Hueatlan had employed, an army could never get close to this camp, but they were no army men. Even more, were not just mere martial artists. They were masters of death, those who had dedicated their lives to the art of murder.

Once they reached the edge of the camp, they lay down into the shadows, and watched the torches of the guards march up and down the palisades. After only a few seconds, the guards had gone past their positions. However, they would remain patient. They were no amateurs. Even when they saw a chance to sneak inside, they chose to stay crouched low to the ground, their dark clothes blended into the night. They spent hours in their positions, without a single movement, and observed the guards come and go in cycles. Only when the moon was long on its way down from its zenith did they take their chance. By now they had studied the guard rotations, and knew that they had no less than ten breaths before anyone would come back. Just at that moment, the moon disappeared behind a layer of clouds. The entire world was swallowed up by darkness, and the four shadows were gone.

Before any eyes could find them again, they had already vaulted the palisade and reached the inside of the camp, silent like ghosts. In between the buildings of the village was a large number of tents, erected to house their foe's army. Although there were a few lit campfires here or there, most soldiers were fast asleep. These government forces knew that the sect alliance was about to attack them the following day, so they would try to get as much sleep as they could. At the same time, they trusted their preparations far too much, as all overconfident men did. Everything was lined up for the shadows to fulfill their mission.

Slowly, they sneaked through the camp until they reached its center. No one ever saw them even once. How could they, these simple mortals who hid behind the power of the palace? A simple official's army would never be a match for masters like them. This low-level Chatra's troops would only have a few low-quality cultivators to call upon. No matter how many weapons they bought from the Immortal Capital, they were helpless against true martial artists. Maybe they could stand up to the sect alliance in a direct war, but they would never be able to fight them one-on-one.

Soon, the four shadows had reached the center of the clumsy defensive formation. Tucked away inside were the largest and fanciest tents of the entire camp. There they would find the officers of the enemy army. No matter what sort of weapons they brought out tomorrow, the Chatra's army would stand no chance without their leaders. This was the way of the sects. Why would they ever fight with the same rules as the government officials, when they could instead win before the battle began?

After a short, silent conversation with hand signals, the shadows split up, each one off to aim for a different tent. They would need to be fast if they wanted to deal with every single officer before the guard was alerted.

While the leader shadow didn't trust his newest companions - all of them amateurs in the art of killing compared to him- he would have to trust them to increase their chances. For now, he wouldn't think too much about his new allies. He was far too busy with his own work.

The shadow took out his knife, a blade made of obsidian and covered in soot, with no shine in the dark night. Around the back of the tent, he cut an opening through the cloth, the sharp edge going through it like the moonlight breaching the clouds. Not long after, he had made his way inside, into an even darker space. Although the darkness would prohibit normal men from precise action, it wasn't the case for him, not for a master. A sudden noise from his right alerted him, and he once again stood still enough to combine with the shadows.

*Neighboring tent. What are these fools doing?*

From the tent next to his, he could hear first the dim sound of a struggle, and then a body drop onto the floor. Of course he knew that the others sent by the sect alliance weren't masters of death like himself, but there still was no reason to be this sloppy, was there? If the alliance had shown any sense, they would have allowed only him and his fellow sect brothers to go into this operation. Yet now he was stuck with these dilettantes. He waited a few more seconds, to make sure no one had been alerted, before he moved to the bed across the tent, where his victim was hidden away beneath a blanket.

Yet he had only taken a single step when another sudden sound made his head spin around. In the entrance, framed by the dim light of night, stood a giant figure, its arm readied in a throwing motion.

The master was surprised, but that was all. Guided by his instincts, he rolled to the side, before he heard an object bury itself into the ground behind him. Back on his feet, he sprinted over to the bed. Although he had been discovered, he could still fulfill his mission. One short stab of his poison dagger and his victim would meet his end, the shadow gone the way he had come. Some official's guard would never match the speed of a master like himself, so he remained confident.

Yet both shadows moved at the same time, and closed the distance with the bed between them.

"*%&" the giant intruder shouted in a strange, awkward tongue, and rushed ahead with a speed that should have been impossible for its size. Caught off guard, the master of death tried to speed up more, and brought the dagger down onto the resting body on the bunk. A mere finger's distance from his target, his wrist was caught by a giant hand, and squeezed with the power of a bear.

His body was yanked back by a force no lesser than the greatest martial artists. With his training focused on speed and agility, the shadow had no chance to fight back. He landed on his back, and threw the hidden sleeping sand with his left, his trump card in many fights. However, the giant only left out another string of guttural noises and dropped his body onto the master.

When the beast's knee landed between the ghost's legs, the world turned to noise, and everything began to turn. Above him, he saw a face as pale as the moon itself, sprinkled with the blood of his fellow shadows. All around him, there were sounds of alarm, as the world outside the tent was illuminated by fires.

"&%§'" the pale beast cursed. As he brought down his heavy sword, his face appeared more annoyed than angry. It was the shadow's last moment. The master of death had failed.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

230 Beasts of War

Although Dedrick hadn't expected much at first, the sight before him was incredible. Several thousand cultivators from various sects, clans and factions had come together to face their nominal ruler, all of them desperate to hang on to the meager power they could exert in their little part of the world.

Their 'army' was an abstract collection of colors and clothes, with no organization or cohesion that Dedrick could discern. They walked in small groups, anywhere from ten to a hundred people strong. Of course, none of this was what had impressed the general. Rather, his telescope was trained past the army, onto the eight giant, gray beasts the enemies had brought with them.

"Are these the so-called elephants?"

"They are. What do you think, General?" Wacoca answered in a smug tone that made the general's eye twitch.

"Okay, these might be a problem," he admitted.

The creatures were enormous, at least three times the height of a man and maybe twice as long. Their legs were as thick as tree trunks and their skin looked hard as bark. Worst of all, their tusks looked like they had been designed as weapons of war, long enough to skewer several men at once. At this point, even the prideful knight understood that no man could stand up to these beasts by himself.

"While it is fun to see you in disarray, General, I have to mention that the elephants should be the least of our problems," Wacoca replied. "After all, your people set up he battlefield like this specifically to deal with them. These beasts may be powerful, but they are also heavy enough to match their size. In the deep mud, they will struggle even more than the soldiers. Not to mention their gentle nature, to spite their looks. While I have never seen an elephant react to a firearm, the noise and smoke produced by your volleys should create a good bit of trouble for their riders."

"In that case, I'm relieved."

"How does our enemy look?" a voice came from behind them and interrupted their conversation.

"Disorganized," Dedrick answered. When he turned, he saw the commander of the army move up to join them on the rampart's crest. Paec looked a bit pale, but he appeared to have recovered from the attempted assassination otherwise. "How're you doing?"

Despite what had happened the previous night, they really couldn't afford a jittery leader. Dedrick had to make sure Paec wasn't affected any more, or he would have to take back control of the army.

"I'm fine," the young officer said. "Thank you for your concern. In the end, the assassins failed, despite their best efforts. On that note, I need to thank you, General. Without your quick action, they would have killed me in my sleep."

"You got that part right," Dedrick snorted. He conveniently brushed over the role his own 'assassin' had played in the events. "Everyone ready?" he asked instead.

"Yes, the soldiers are already in formation, much unlike our foes." Paec looked down onto the disorganized heap of martial artists. "They have no common heart, and thus no cohesion. We have the defensive advantage, and we are much better equipped. The battle should be easy enough, at least if everything goes the way we expect."

"What about our organization? Didn't we struggle with the language barrier?"

Paec nodded. "At first, there were some problems with the relay of orders. The local soldiers were also unwilling to work under foreign troops. But by now we have found a compromise Chatra Huemac's soldiers were willing to agree with. As a result, we have reorganized the armies and mixed our troops with theirs. Every unit will contain about one fifth of our Saniya soldiers, with about a third of them fresh recruits. They're organized into platoons of one hundred, all of them led by a single ensign. All of these officers are our people, and they all speak Yakua. We have come up with several non-verbal signs to pass more simple commands down the chain. The locals should be able to follow our orders well enough. Huemac's elites insisted that they were too important to work under us, and they argued that their power would be diminished if we broke apart their established formation. That's why we've retained the structure they were using since before our arrival. For now, we have put them into the center of our front line."

"The center would have to withstand the harshest attack, so it makes sense to place the elites there," Dedrick commented.

"True. There is also less of a reason to move them around, so we can guarantee our tactical initiative once something surprising happens and we need to get fancy with the flanks. Also, they will be forced to fight with their all even if they dislike us. They will be surrounded by allies and enemies on all sides, so there is no way for them to take the easy way out."

"You really don't like cultivators, do you?" Dedrick asked in a sour tone.

"Can you blame me after what happened last night, General?"

"Eyes up front, the cultivators are coming for a chat."

While they had been talking, a small delegation of five people detached from the enemy army and marched towards their position. Now that Wacoca had made the officers aware of their presence, the men atop the hill calmed down and watched the arrivals.

Around the maximum distance of an average arrow's flight, the five martial artists took root. Only their leader made one additional step and called out to their position atop the rampart.

As soon as he did, Dedrick looked over to Wacoca for help. As an Arcavian, the knight didn't know a single word of the Chutwa language, so he would have to rely on the captain's translation.

"His name is Ectnara," Wacoca said, though he sounded somewhat unsure. "He says he is the master of the Flowing Water Sect, and the leader of their alliance. The others behind him are the other leaders of the big sects and clans in the region, and they are... co-leaders, I believe."

While Wacoca tried his hardest to keep up with the fast-talking cultivator, the Flowing Water Sect's master continued to drone on like a waterfall.

"Is that why they call them flowing water?" he wondered, but no one picked up on his joke.

"He asks if there is any honorable man atop our rampart. He says there is no reason for the two sides to fight and cause blood to flow. They are willing to let go of the differences. Instead of war, they want to resolve the issue with a duel."

"That right?" Dedrick's eyes narrowed as he stared at the sect master at the bottom of the rampart.

"General, you don't plan to agree, do you?" Paec asked with concern. "There is no need to go so far for some elusive honor, not when we have every advantage here."

Rather than answer Paec's concerns, Dedrick stepped up to get a better look at his enemies. Short, neatly trimmed beards and straight postures... they really looked like honorable martial artists.

"Hey, Wacoca, can you translate for me?"

"Of course I can."

"Tell him that he should take his sword out of its sheath. Then he wants to place it in the ground with the point up and the handle down. The earth's nice and sticky so it'll be easier to keep upright. After that, I want him to take a deep breath and sit on it."

"General?" Everyone who heard his words looked at Dedrick in shock. How could the self-declared knight change his tone so quickly, so crudely? Hadn't he defended these honorable warriors all this time?

"I said it yesterday: Any proper soldier, whether they call themselves warriors or knights or martial artists, deserves to be treated with respect. That's why I wasn't in favor of our cheap tricks. It's poor form, and it's bad for Saniya's reputation... and most importantly, it's bad for mine. Well, last night these pieces of shit showed what they're really made of. They're no knights, and I won't respect some petty thieves. So tell him to shove his damn sword up his ass."

"As you wish, General," Wacoca answered, barely managing to suppress a smile.

While the pirate did his best to play translator with his so-so knowledge of Chutwa, Dedrick took out a short stack of papers and looked through his notes. As the little guy's guardian, he would have to make sure Paec would be okay during the combat they would soon have to face.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"So who're the old people behind the waterfall guy? Anyone we like?" Dedrick asked.

"I'm not a local either, so I wouldn't know," Paec answered his cryptic question with a forced smile. "When it comes to this matter, we can only put our trust in Lady Yasimi's abilities. Though since she has promised us results, I am sure we can expect to see at least something during the battle."

"Be better if we didn't have to rely on some unknown variables," Dedrick mumbled.

"I agree. Thus, our ample preparations. If we stick to our plans, even if everything else goes wrong, there is no way for us to lose. How could these barbarians with their swords and spears stand up to a proper flintlock volley?"

"Don't underestimate a cultivator's charge. They've been the dominant force on battlefields for centuries," Dedrick cautioned. "I don't know a lot about these people, but if nothing else, they're at least competent cultivators. That's what last night should have taught you. They might march like trash, but they don't need a whole lot of organization to just charge forward and swing their iron around."

"Wasn't that what we built the rampart for? Even if they manage to breach our lines in one or two spots, our new weapons will be able to push them back without much trouble."

"Still, better be careful. Arrogance is what ends up killing you, or others. Even our glorious king could tell you stories about that," Dedrick said as he looked up at the elephants in the distance. If a surprise were to come from anywhere, it might just be from the giant beasts in the back. Dedrick's thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the fool at the foot of the artificial hill.

The leader of the flowing water sect still stood in the same place, but now his stance was much more aggressive than before. His sword raised towards them, he glared up at his foes like a scorned lover. Maybe he had drawn his weapon out of anger, or maybe it was to fulfill the first part of Dedrick's request, but either way he didn't look too happy with their answer.

"General, he says-"

"Yeah, I got it," Dedrick interrupted the captain. A cocky grin on his face, he leaned onto his knee, over the rampart and towards the waiting masters at the bottom. For a second, the two sides stared at each other, before Dedrick spat down towards them.

As far as he was concerned, these bastards didn't deserve his respect, or his forgiveness. It would be better to piss them off as much as possible, so they would break their heads against the wall Paec had built.

In a huff, the masters exchanged a few words among them, before they flung their sleeves about and rushed off, back towards their soldiers.

"We better get ready too," Dedrick said towards Paec.

"Everyone get combat ready. Give the signal."

As Paec's second-in-command spread his orders through the use of flags and megaphones, the knight observed the enemy army. After their masters had returned, movement within the mass of bodies had increased, but it resembled an angry beehive more than a proper army. One or two sections of the troops looked eager to break off and rush towards their death halfway up the hill. But much to Dedrick's dismay, they were held back by their fellow sects around them at the last moment.

*Maybe charging isn't as easy of a task as I thought.*

In consternation, Dedrick looked on as the chaos only increased in scope. In a few places, fights broke out between the factions, though not quite enough to draw any blood. It was a good chance to catch their enemies on the wrong foot, but whatever Dedrick thought didn't matter much.

Faced with a decision, the conservative Paec chose to hold his troops in formation. Although the sect alliance looked weak, they would be foolish to give up their superior position for some opportunistic advantages. Least of all with those giant monsters in front of them.

In the end, Hueatlan's army stood and waited for half an hour, until the enemy had formed something vaguely resembling a front line. Eager to fight after their warm-up routine, the disciples of eastern Chutwa repeatedly banged their weapons onto their armors.

Although they didn't do so with any sort of rhythm, they still created a cacophony of noise that sounded like the song of battle. Behind them, the titanic elephants let out ear-splitting roars to intimidate their foes, like a thousand warped trumpets from a demonic army. Soon after, the entire formation began to move up the path, ever closer to their deaths.

Once again, war was upon them.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

231 Two Types of Battle

This was already his fourth true battle, but Alcer still wasn't used to it. He wondered if he ever would be. Despite his reservations, the decorated soldier had learned a thing or two about combat in his time with Saniya's army. As far as he was concerned, there were two types of battle the southern soldiers could face. The first type was the kind he had lived through in his first skirmish, as well as his first major engagement against Lord Rupilo's forces.

In those fights, Alcer and the other troops had fought without concern, and destroyed all in their path. These had been one-sided affairs, decided by only the gun in his hands. In these fights, they could fight without a care in the world, only repeating the same motions until the enemy was routed. Apart from the noise, he wouldn't even be aware of the battle around him. In those times, war felt easy.

The second type was a battle like the final engagement against the northern armies, a desperate struggle between two evenly matched opponents. During those moments, war had felt like hell. At last, he had understood his opponents how must have felt every time they were faced with his musket fire. To his good fortune, and to the misfortune of their most recent foes, today's battle was of the first type.

Ever since the start of the battle, Alcer's platoon had stayed atop of the rampart they had spent days to construct. To his right and left, the muskets cracked and launched their projectiles down the hill, into the muddy fields, or into the men who were stuck inside them. Meanwhile, in his front, the halberdiers had the easiest job of them all. They simply stood and watched, as not one of their enemies had made it even close to their position.

The angry, uncoordinated mob had rushed up to them full of bravado, but most of their scattered, individual groups had simply halted in front of their moat, clearly confused on how to proceed once they were confronted with their first obstacle. They were all powerful warriors, so they could have swam through or jumped over the moat and continued, yet almost no one did.

There was no coordination between the groups, so hardly any were willing to take the first plunge. The scant few who tried their luck looked exhausted from their spirited, but pointless rush up the narrow pathway, when they had pushed their own allies into the mud to the sides. Now that they were drained and still had to climb a hill, their enthusiasm came back to haunt them.

They somehow jumped over or swam through the moat, but were gunned down before they could even make it halfway up to the rampart's crest. A select few others thought themselves clever and tried to circumvent their position, but got stuck in the muddy fields and were taken out by the defensive army's flanks. A handful of arrows flew back to reply the incessant musket fire in kind, but most lost steam before they even made it up to their elevation. Once more, war seemed easy.

All the while, most of the powerful enemy warriors were still stuck at the foot of their earthen wall. By now they would have realized that it was the most dangerous spot they could have chosen in the world, but their overeager and oblivious allies at the back pushed against them and prevented their retreat. At the same time, the moat and rampart in their way prevented their advance. All they could do was curse or beg as they fell one by one.

Where their previous enemies would have used sandbags and shovels to fill in the moat, they only had pointless stares to offer, filled with pleas or wrath. Where their previous enemies brought with them weapons to match their own, they only had a few, disjointed arrows to offer in reply.

Yet just as Alcer was convinced that this battle would end in an overwhelming, one-sided victory again, just as he was convinced that their battle was of the first type and that everything was long decided, he saw some unusual movements within the enemy army. However, they didn't come from the elephants in the back, no doubt to most of his allies' surprise. Unlike them, Alcer knew better.

While the giant beasts in the back were intimidating, he didn't feel as great a threat from them as his fellow officers did. Earlier in the day, Alcer himself had struggled to walk up their rampart, which would give in under his weight and slide back down in muddy waterfalls. He couldn't even imagine how hard it would be for such a giant monster to go up the same path. The rampart would collapse and bury the beasts under it before they would ever reach the top.

No, instead of those monsters, he was much more concerned with the enemy troop movements. If only they could organize a proper charge, the enemy warriors would still be dangerous. In their war against the north, he had lived through a close-combat battle with real cultivators, and was wary of any push-back even from a wounded enemy. So when he spotted some proper movement in the midst of the enemy formation – movements which seemed coordinated and planned for once – it took his attention right away.

In the center and somewhat towards the back of the mess of bodies, a group began to ball up and form proper lines. He wasn't sure if it was a new unit the various sects had formed on the spot to break through, or if one of the sects had finally decided to step up and take the lead, but it wouldn't matter much. Either way, he felt like they would be trouble.

"Guman, what is that group doing down there? The ones in the center, a dozen or so heads from the front." Since his own eyes weren't good enough to make a proper judgment, he asked Guman the former hunter in his team, the one who had eyes as strong as a cultivator. For a second, Guman concentrated on his orders, before he called out in surprise.

"That's ridiculous."

"Report, soldier!" Alcer shouted back, annoyed and flustered. "What's going on down there!?"

"There's a group making their ways through the masses, they're trying to get to the front. They are just... shoving other warriors out of the way as if they were kids. What's with these people?"

At this point, Alcer felt his bad intuition confirmed. His heart sank as he watched the formed lines push their way through the mass of bodies around them as if they weren't even there. Not long and they were close enough that even he could observe them. When the new threat first made its way to the front of the formation, it didn't look especially impressive to Alcer.

Just like the soldiers around them, they wore all kinds of armor and held all kinds of weapons, a strange mesh of styles so typical of the patchwork army they had come here to fight. Even so, their attitude was incomparable to that of the men around them. Even now that they had been trapped in the hell of war, they still had confident, almost zealous looks on their faces, their backs straight and their eyes calm, so very different from the panicked and hunkered allies around them.

While Alcer's men around him still appeared confident and continued their target practice, the officer began to get worried again. He had already gone through one close-combat encounter with cultivators, himself without a weapon in his hand, and he wasn't about to repeat the horrors of that day.

In fact, after his first experience, he had been thinking about how useless his flintlock had been in the most crucial time in his life. Together with a local blacksmith from Saniya, he had searched and found a solution to their problem. To his good fortune, they had managed to finish their prototypes and get them approved by the army's higher-ups just before they had to move out for this war. Now, his unit had already been equipped with their newest invention, and it appeared time for its first proper field test.

"Bayonets!" Alcer shouted back towards his men. Yet when he turned around, he could only see those close enough to hear stare back in confusion. Meanwhile, the rest still happily fired away, eager to prove themselves in the war and get a commendation from their king.

"I said take out your Bayonets! That is an order!" Finally, his lower-ranked officers reacted to the unusual command and carried his command to his soldiers. In the meantime, Alcer got his own weapon ready. He pulled the thin spear blade from the side of his flintlock and planted his weapon's stock down into the soft soil to stabilize it. After he had checked that there were no bullets left in the barrel and no powder left in the chamber, his trembling fingers inserted the round end of his spear tip into the flintlock's barrel. That was it, his new invention. Like this, he had transformed his gun into a spear, good enough to offer resistance in close quarters.

However, as he had been working to transform his weapon, he became more and more flustered. Unbelievable scenes had played out at the bottom of the rampart. Despite their armors and weapons, the newly arrived warriors jumped the moat with ease. Without pause they proceeded to charge up the rampart as if on flat ground. He had seen many powerful warriors back in Medala, but none would even come close to the strength these monsters displayed.

Yet even worse than their power were their faces. The entire time they stormed towards them, they did so without any cover. As the spearhead of the enemy's attack, they were pelted with gunshots from all sides. Though they fell in droves, they seemed oblivious to their impending deaths. All this time, they held manic smiles on their faces. Some of them laughed even as they went to the ground, as if they welcomed their own demise with open arms.

Confronted by beasts far worse than the elephants, the tremble in Alcer's hand got worse, but then he remembered the hundred men behind him, the men he was responsible for, and the men whose lives depended on him. The badge on his chest felt heavy as strength returned to his spine.

"Halberds brace for impact!" he shouted in the bravest tone he could muster. "Muskets, defensive positions!"

As the halberds closed their lines before him and pointed their long spears down towards the charging enemy, the musketeers did the same and pointed their bayonets up towards the sky. Their entire front line section turned into a porcupine, ready to repel any predators that would dare attack them. Yet even then, the warriors wouldn't slow down. If anything, they sped up even more to greet the countless deadly points with glee.

Even from the third row, Alcer could feel the impact on the front. As simple mortals, his halberds succumbed to the force and were pushed back a few steps, by only a handful of men who had charged for over fifty meters, up a muddy hill. Even worse, the sun's light darkened as some just passed over the formation entirely and jumped above their heads.

Unlike anything a human should be capable of, they leaped over their front line and simply landed among the musketeers. Many impaled themselves on the readied muskets, but there were still too many holes to stop everyone, despite their best efforts. Right before Alcer's eyes, a warrior bolted over the outstretched halberds and straight towards him. He moved his bayonet to meet the enemy, but his blade slid off the other man's armor. As the crazy face became larger and larger in Alcer's view, the firm impact was just enough to push the inhuman warrior off balance. When the warrior landed, he struggled to stay on his feet.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Presented with a chance, Alcer shoved his new weapon forward once more, without remorse. He could feel the spear blade pierce the armor and hit bone, yet the warrior looked up and only smiled at him. As his enemy's blade raised above his head, Alcer watched in shock as the warrior tried to take one last soldier with him. When he thought all was lost, another Bayonet came from the side, to pierce the attacker's arm and hold his weapon in place.

Next to Alcer, Guman stared back at him with the same horror and disbelief he himself felt. Even now, the beast's muscles bulged, as he forced his way towards them. They were desperate to keep the beast at spear's length, and somehow managed to hold their own long enough for reinforcements to arrive. One after another, more soldiers around them joined in, and blade after blade entered the intruder's body. Only then did the inhuman beast succumb and fall to the ground, still with a manic smile on his face.

When Alcer looked back up, there were fights everywhere around him, but there was order to the chaos. Their training had paid off and they had begun to suppress the crazy attack into their midst. For now, they had withstood the enemy's charge.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

232 Hidden Smile

"Looks like they've just about got things under control," Dedrick mumbled to himself as he sat back down on the new favorite spot he had created for himself. A bit off from the battle and somewhat behind the front line, he had the soldiers construct a small mound for himself to rest his weary bones. Fitted with a comfortable chair, it was the perfect spot to enjoy the mild spring breeze while his new student Paec and his soldiers were fighting for their lives within eyesight.

From what Dedrick could see, their front line had been breached in three separate spots by these over-powered cultivators who had come out of nowhere. No matter what sort of strength they had, it appeared as if it still wouldn't stand up against modern weapons, proper tactical training, and good old numerical advantages.

When he had seen the charge and the resulting chaos, Dedrick had first wanted to help organize their back and reinforce their lines, but had soon given up when he had seen Paec handle everything by himself. The weakened front line had been stabilized with the reserves they had stashed in the back, and the few martial artists who had managed to break into their ranks had been swamped and taken down one by one.

With this, it appeared as if their enemy's final trump card had been played in vain. Now all that was left to do was grind them down until they would finally break and rout. Without any hope of victory left, the patchy alliance would crack sooner rather than later. After all, it didn't look like their second trump card would end up doing much.

At first glance the elephants had appeared like true beasts of war, but it turned out they were a lot smarter than the martial artists who had brought them along. While those great cultivators were squished together at the bottom of the rampart to be shot to death one by one, the elephants looked spooked by all the noise and stench and refused to even get close to the battlefield.

Wacoca had implied that the sect's elephants wouldn't be trained for battle, and they really, truly weren't. With a laugh, Dedrick observed through his spyglass as the desperate trainers atop the animals cursed at the disobedient weapons beneath them and tried to whip them into compliance.

*What's some wimpy whip even gonna do against that thing?*

The image a bit to his left only intensified his laughter. Over there, two of the elephants had been led into a flanking maneuver by their trainers, as desperate as it was pointless. Now they were stuck up to their knees in mud, without any hope of getting out ever again. In the soft soil, the heavy beasts were sinking like a stone in water. There was nothing more to fear from the monsters. Now all he could do was guess how long it would take for the coalition of sects to crack.

Just as Dedrick wanted to take his telescope back to the front to begin his guessing game, he heard another one of the elephant's roars, this one even louder and more terrifying than the ones before it. Even as someone who had never seen these beasts before, the mercenary could tell that it was a scream of desperate anger.

By the time the screaming creature was in his sight, the elephant had begun a charge, egged on by its trainer. Maybe it had felt the whips after all, or maybe the trainers had gone for more drastic measures while Dedrick wasn't looking, but the beasts were finally on the move. However, they weren't moving anything like their trainers wanted.

All this time, the beasts had been stuck at the tail end of the enemy formation, while a mob had formed before them, with no organization, and with no space left in between the combatants. Any approach from the elephants had to be careful and methodical to prevent a mess. However, the beasts no longer cared about the rules of combat as they trampled the ranks of their own allies. The smile on Dedrick's face froze to solid ice as he saw the incredible power of the monsters for the first time.

The cultivators sent flying by the creature's giant tusks were the lucky ones. At least they were spared from the monster's giant feet, as thick as a man's torso, and very capable of crushing one. Not even his worst enemies deserved such a death, to be squashed under the heel of a beast. Soon enough the air was filled with panicked screams, as the little cohesion retained by the enemy troops dissolved into thin air. Finally routed, the former coalition of sects began to scatter with the wind.

However, not every part of the enemy formation was dissolved right away. A single portion of the troops had remained back, staying cohesive throughout the entire mess. Now that the battle was decided they stepped up, yet they acted in defiance of all expectations. Without remorse they turned on their own allies. As they showed the honor all Chutwa cultivators seemed to share, they closed down the paths of retreat the defenders had chosen, trapping as many as they could inside a hell between raging beasts and invisible death.

*Looks like Lady Yasimi's plan worked out after all, huh?* Dedrick thought as he observed the banner he had seen before. It was the sigil of the Sunburst Sect, sworn enemies of the flowing water sect who had started this entire mess.

All this time, the lady of the county had planned for the Sunburst Sect to betray the others, in return for preferential treatment during the aftermath. And just as expected of turncoats, they showed their loyalties now, once everything had long been decided. All they did was give the deathblow to the already routed sects. Still, the Sunburst Sect would most likely be the only sect left inside Huetalan's sphere of influence after this massacre.

When the 'assassin' sent by the Sunburst Sect had surprisingly woken him up and warned him of the attack the previous night, Dedrick had already expected their betrayal, but it still didn't sit right with him.

However, the mercenary didn't have to care about any of this mess, or about Lady Yasimi's plans for her husband's lands. All he knew was that they had won the war, so he could go home soon. A warm wind came in from the coast and carried the iron smell of blood away from Dedrick's chair. For him, it was time to return and receive his worthless accolades, while others would handle the annoying peace talks.

__________________________

"Bow before the Immortal Emperor's might!" the servant from the capital shouted, and Brym did as requested. He bowed down in a ninety degree angle and remained perfectly still. All he could see were the even stone tiles of Chatra Huemac's throne room as he stood there and waited for his next cue. Had he never cultivated, he would have never withstood such a harsh treatment, but Brym didn't care. If one wanted to take the gold from others, one had to accept a bit of humiliation sometimes. So he simply remained quiet, until he heard the servant's self-satisfied voice again.

"Raise your head and state your business, foreign guest. The emperor is magnanimous, and will thus spare his time and listen only this once."

When Brym returned to a more comfortable position, he had to control his face, lest he show a grin. Although he had already seen the 'emperor' when he had entered, it was still a laughable sight. Besides the seat of honor stood Lord Huemac, his wives – including Corco's sister Yasimi – as well as several high-ranking servants of the Huemac household. He had come to know all of them quite well over the few days since his arrival, and all of them offered him friendly nods, even the wives who had first considered him an ally to Yasimi and thus a threat.

However, even though he had spent a lot of time to win their favors, the most important figure was a new arrival and sat right in front of him. In the center of the hall, in the seat that would otherwise be occupied by Huemac himself, were the 'emperor' and his servant.

There stood a eunuch, a true servant of the Immortal Palace, and kept hold of a shoddy puppet made of silk, all so it wouldn't just flop off of its chair. From Huemac's introduction, the puppet was supposed to represent the Immortal Emperor. Yet with all the gemstone-encrusted golden trinkets heaved onto it, the soft silk was weighed down so much the 'emperor' looked more like a squashed dog. Somehow, the wise masters of the capital had considered this shoddy replacement a good idea, though they were bound by the empire's laws and didn't see any other way to circumvent them.

As an outsider, Brym wasn't allowed to travel through the lands of Chutwa and all the way to the capital to meet the emperor, not even as a prospective tributary nation. Thus, he would have to pay his respects here in front of the substitute the empire's most incompetent craftsmen must have fabricated over night. Somehow, Brym managed to suppress his laughter and lowered his head once again before he spoke, just like he had been instructed by Huemac and Yasimi.

"This mere mortal's name is Brymstock Fastgrade, who has come before the Immortal Emperor as the ruler of the Kingdom of Britain," Brym began. Though his Chutwa was shoddy, he had prepared his speech for several days to appear fluent.

"This mere mortal has traveled far and wide to meet with the great Immortal Emperor, whose name rings across the horizons. And now that he has laid his eyes upon his greatness, this mortal is truly convinced in his inferiority, and in the inferiority of his lands. Thus satisfied, this mere mortal wishes for himself and his subjects to fold into the benevolent embrace of the Immortal Emperor, and thus wishes pay tribute to the great Chutwa Empire. Forever may its shine radiate across the world."

After his phony speech was over, Brym followed the instructions he had practiced with the local lord ever since his arrival, as he performed another complicated series of bows and steps. At some point during the proceedings, he handed his gifts over to the 'emperor' by laying them to 'his' feet. Thus, he had signified the submission of the fictional kingdom of Britain beneath the heel of the Chutwa Empire.

Although Brym played the role of Britain's young king, the position didn't come with too many perks beyond a short vacation in Chutwa and a phony crown. Still, he had been forced to take on the role, since they had been low on potential candidates. After all, anyone from Medala would look too similar to those from Chutwa, so they couldn't represent the king of a far-off land. In the end, they could only chose an Arcavian. With a choice left between him, the always busy Bombasticus and the always grumpy Dedrick, Corco's hand had been forced, and Brym's hands had been tied.

At least the young king had managed to finish up most of his business in the northern kingdoms of Medala before he had been sent to play phony king for the locals, and the Chatra Huemac and his manor had been more than welcoming towards the man whose arrival promised such great wealth to them. Still, as far as he could tell, this would remain his only trip to Chutwa.

After the war of Hueatlan, Huemac's house had wiped out almost all independent influences inside his territory. Now, the local lord reigned with almost total authority, which also meant that their smuggle business under the guise of a tributary status could run without interruptions from now on. With the situation stabilized, there was little reason to return to the rule-laden lands of Chutwa, something Brym was glad to hear.

With a fake smile, the fake king held out both of his hands to receive the seal that would mark his fake kingdom as a real tributary of Chutwa, and would open the doors to Chutwa's treasures for them.

However, Brym's real smile hid behind his fake one. After this entire affair was done, after over a year stuck with various trade deals in the north, he would finally travel to Saniya, his new home, and reunite with his big brother. From the letters the ghosts had handed to him, it appeared as if his big brother Corco was eager to set a big plan in motion, and it appeared as if Brym was the best man to help him with the job. Giddy like a child, Brym could hardly wait.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

233 Back Again

With restless steps, Atau marched past homes made of wood, built in the blocky, huddled style of Arcavia's south. He walked down the pier along the coastline until he could see the place where the buildings were rudely cut off by the uneven walls that enclosed the city. When he turned, Atau could see the local ruler's large keepschurch in the distance, as it crowned the center of the horrible maze that was the city. Without a word, he went back to his paces.

Although it was a sight Atau hadn't seen in well over a year, he felt precious little nostalgia at the moment. Instead, he only felt annoyance creep up his stomach as he was reminded of the Bornish influence all around him. After another two laps, Ivo returned to him, back from his mission. The slim sailor was his former second in command. While he was captain of his own ship now, he still did some of the fleet's organisatorial work, and that was exactly what he had been tasked to do this time.

"How many are missing, Ivo?" Admiral Atau asked with his eyes still fixated on the harbor before him. Meanwhile, Ivo offered a proper salute before he replied.

"Admiral, for now, twenty-seven of the crew are unaccounted for."

"That's a lot more than I thought."

Annoyed, Atau turned around to face Ivo. According to their plans, they had only wanted to make a short stop in Borna. Pack some fresh fruit, let the men blow off some steam after the first leg of their journey and maybe gather some intelligence. At this point, they should have long been on their way east. However, now the fleet's admiral still stood in front of his ship in the harbor, while his second had run around to try and assess the extent of their problems.

"Well, they haven't been on shore leave for too long," Ivo said. "They were told to come back by noon, and it is still not evening yet. After the months at sea, there's a good chance at least a few of them have slept in with a hangover. They might show up a bit later if they've missed the midday call." Ivo looked around and made sure that no one was nearby before he continued.

"On top of that, there are also a handful who had... special missions near the keep and shipyard who didn't make it back yet. They might be in trouble, but we can't exactly call them mutineers. And then there's some who must have just missed their homes, so they left to see their families after over a year they spent halfway across the world. While that does sound bad, I still wouldn't call that a betrayal, at least. You know how much the crew respects and admires you."

"They're all good men, so we don't need to be worried about them, is that what you're saying?" Atau spat on the ground in derision. "The Eaststar was missing an ethanol compass, did you know that? You don't think that was a coincidence, do you? Or maybe the good men were just taking our secret technology to show to their families."

"Is that true?" Ivo asked. At first he looked incredulous, but as Atau continued, anger began to boil in his eyes.

"It gets better." Atau nodded while a grim smile dominated his face. "Everard is still missing, and he knew our semaphore codes. Whether they've been reimbursed by the Bornish or just got caught and questioned doesn't really matter. Losing those guys means that we've helped our enemy, one way or another. The missing men won't know exactly how the telescope or the ship's wheel work, but at least they'll know they exist, so copying them or making something similar will be much easier for the Bornish as well. We should never have anchored here."

"But the men were already getting restless after months at sea. If we hadn't landed along the west coast, it would have been bad for morale," Ivo said. "Also, we needed to land here if we wanted to gather intelligence, and at least in that regard, we succeeded. It was the right decision."

"True enough," Atau said as he looked at the busy crowd all around him. Much had changed since the last time he had been here. Back when they had left, Borna's harbors hadn't been this lively, though the country's new position as the strongest naval power on Arcavia's west coast had greatly changed its fortunes.

Where before, everything had happened at a more measured pace, the entire city was in a buzz. Everyone just seemed half a step faster than what Atau had seen in the past, to reflect the greater purpose that surrounded the nation now.

*Like an inferior version of Saniya.*

While the activity couldn't match up with Atau's own home, it was still a change that could be felt as soon as he had stepped off the ship for the first time. Now he understood what Corco had always said: The world was changing, and they weren't the only ones to bring about that change. Nothing exemplified this more than the priests in dark cloth who were walking around the pier and called out to believers and non-believers alike.

"Either way, we brought more than enough crew for the rest of the journey. The twenty-seven won't be missed during operation," Ivo said. "And at least we're rid of the traitors now. At least we've already managed to send a ship back home."

"I don't think that's something we should be talking about right now," Atau cautioned with a look over to the priests. "There's eyes and ears everywhere. Let's get on the Homeward first before we continue."

During their stay here, Saniya's sailors had seen the city's shipyard which had grown at least thrice in size since the last time they had been here. Even from the outside, it was a constant buzz of activity. While Atau had expected the Bornish to increase the production of their ships after the armada they had brought to Medala's shores, he had still underestimated their ambitions. With the new knowledge of Borna's operations, he had to send one of his ships back home to warn Corco. Of course he couldn't know if these new, bornish ships would ever make the long journey to Medala or if they were intended to project power along Arcavia's coastline, but they couldn't take a risk in the matter.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

Thus, he hadn't even made it past Arcavia's west coast yet and he was down an entire ship in addition to the twenty-seven men. Already annoyed, even more trouble awaited him. The priests had been lingering around his ships for a while now, and as soon as they saw him move towards them, they stepped ahead to block Atau's way.

"Please wait, good man. Do you not wish to relish in the wisdom of Saint Ioannis, to learn of the true purpose our Lord Arcavus has for you?"

"Out of my way," an impatient Atau said, but the three priests only huddled together closer.

"You would not wish to appear as a heretic, would you? A short conversation would surely not-"

"I said out of my fucking way!" the admiral shouted, as he shoved all three priests out of his path as if they were children. Before they had even hit the ground, the admiral was halfway up his gangway.

"Again with those fucking priests," he said as he looked back at the group of proselytizers on the ground. While several dock workers came to help the men of god, the priests focused their nasty looks and nastier words in Atau's direction. The Admiral only offered a sneer in response.

"Bastards." Ivo spat into the water before they reached the railing. "Always hated those Ioannites. They're stubborn like mules, can't take a no for an answer."

"I don't think the locals see it that way. It looks like their influence is still growing somehow. I've heard stories that the king of Borna has converted to the Ioannian confession recently."

"Yeah, the news is all over the city," Ivo confirmed, though he scratched his head in confusion. "It's more than just rumors too. Seems like it really happened."

Back when they had still called the city of Etra their home port, the Ioannites had been a small group of religious radicals who valued work and money over birthrights. When the Fastgrade fleet had left for Medala, they had been a fast-growing confession, but were still delegated to the fringes of Arcavian society. At that time, they had been the religion of the craftsmen and merchants in the free cities, of those who had been disadvantaged by the status quo. Yet by now, even some high-ranking nobles had been won over by their teachings.

"You know what that means, right?" Atau growled, as if his mood couldn't get any worse. "Their Bornish King wants a war."

"War? What does war have to do with the Ioannites?" Ivo looked as confused as he looked shocked.

"The Arcavus church is pretty strict about religious order," Atau explained. "Their old confessions don't even have proper priests, apart from their kings and lords. You really think the other rulers would just give up that power to those shitty priests down there? The more traction the Ioannites gain, the more likely an armed conflict becomes. The Bornish king only makes things worse with his decision."

He pointed down onto the pier, where the priests had moved on to easier targets. While the Ioannites were brazen, they weren't dumb enough to oppose an entire fleet of galleons.

"But if he risks a war this way, why would their king convert? Maybe he's been convinced by the arguments of the priests and he has seen the light?"

While Ivo was a native Arcavian, he had never been the most religious soul, or the most political mind. On the other hand, Atau had heard enough complaints about Arcavus from Corco to write his own book on the topic.

"You only say that since you don't see Borna's benefits in a religious conflict. Compared to the northern lordships of Arcavia, the southern ones have always been considered lesser. Arcavus was a northerner after all. So the kings and dukes in the south are often considered more distant descendants of God while the northerners are more pure-blooded. It's an issue of prestige, gives the south all kinds of disadvantages during wars and negotiations. Not sure if it's the guns or the increased overseas trade, but it looks like Borna's been emboldened to overturn the established order of things and shake control of the north."

"So they want to fight a war over it?" Ivo guessed. Meanwhile, the priests had retreated from the harbor for now. Though there was always a chance they would return with the guards to get their revenge, Atau wasn't afraid of a conflict so long as he had his fleet behind him.

"They want a religious revolution, and they don't care about the deaths needed to make it reality. Looks like there's stormy times ahead for Arcavia."

"At least that's some good news for us."

"Yeah, let's hope Borna and Cahlia waste all their time and energy in fights against the northern lordships and leave Medala alone."

For a while, the two sank into silence as they awaited the arrival of their stragglers. As the shadow of Atau's ship took up more of the pier, his mood soured further. However, the worst was yet to come, as the Homeward's lookout arrived with a message.

"Reporting, Admiral," Atau heard from behind him. When he turned, he saw his subordinate stand with the stiff salute he had practiced countless times. Despite his bad mood, Atau did his best to match the man's energy.

"At ease, sailor. What's the report?"

"The Eaststar has returned."

"What!?" Confused and angered, the admiral stormed towards the ship's stern pointed at the western horizon, where the Eaststar had disappeared hours earlier. He couldn't fathom why they would be back already after he had sent them to report back to Medala. Had his own men mutinied? No, they wouldn't disobey his orders and then just come straight back to be punished, would they? Though with the recent slew of 'disappearances', he wouldn't be surprised by anything.

However, his questions were answered once he reached the quarterdeck.

Although it was silhouetted by the setting sun, he could identify the Eaststar by the beautiful, sleek hull that was so typical of Medala's ships. Yet the proud vessel was overwhelmed by the shadows of no less than three giant ships traveling behind it. The red shimmer atop the waters only intensified the sinister threat. Although he didn't see their flags due to the sun, he could guess their allegiance before his outlook spoke out again.

"They signaled as soon as they came into view, admiral. They said that on their way to the open waters, they were held up by a Bornish fleet. They were ordered to turn around and return to the harbor straight away. They weren't hit by cannons, but they got a couple warning shots across the bow."

"So the Bornish don't want Laqhis to know what they're doing in their shipyards, huh? Looks like those ships are coming for Medala after all," Atau mumbled to himself, a heavy lump in his chest.

"Admiral, what should we do?" Ivo asked in an wavering voice. Arau sighed in reply.

"There isn't much we can do." He turned towards his men. "Tell the entire fleet: anchors aweigh. We're setting off as soon as everyone's ready."

"But the men-"

With only a small jerk of his head, Atau silenced Ivo's attempt at reconciliation.

"Whoever's not on board by now won't be coming back either way. You said it yourself: We still have enough men for our journey, so let's just throw out the useless baggage early."

As the outlook stormed off to relay the admiral's orders across the fleet, Atau turned back towards the shadows of the ships in the distance.

"As for the Bornish plans for Medala? At this point, we're outgunned and outnumbered, and they know that we've tried to inform Saniya. Risking another ship in an attempt to get back would be pointless. All we can do now is hope our folks at home can deal with whatever Borna wants to throw at them. It's not our fight anyways, not now. Let's just be off towards less hostile waters. Whatever unknowns await us there, it can't be worse than this."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

234 Union

"I really should have seen this one coming," Corco muttered to himself. All the while, he watched Egidius and Ella, the clock maker's new bride, step down the pier and into the decorated wooden boat together. Now that he thought about it, it had been strange that the adventurous and curious clock maker had decided to stay in Saniya rather than follow Atau on his journey around the world. He even remembered the girl's portrait, hanging in the clock maker's workshop during his frequent visits there.

Maybe it was the constant work or his general lack of a romantic strain, but somehow he had been blindsided by their relationship. Out of nowhere, Egidius had announced his intentions and now only three days later, a group of the city's elites had come together in Saniya's harbor to say their goodbyes to the first married couple between an Arcavian and a Medalan.

"Do you mind your people getting fresh with outsiders?" When Corco turned towards the voice, he was confronted by the mischievous twinkle that he had become so familiar with. At some point during the proceedings, Sumaci had stepped next to the king to speak her mind, like she did so often.

"Who're you calling an outsider?" Corco asked back in a bemused tone. "He's a citizen of Saniya just like everyone else. As the city grows, we'll have more and more people immigrate from all over the place, so it's a good idea to be open and not put too much emphasis on heritage. Rather, I'm glad that those two have found each other. A few of my Arcavian subjects seem to have had flings with local girls, though I'd prefer if all of them worked out like this one. In fact, if I had the choice, I'd rather they all got married and started families right this second. That way, they are much more likely to stay around once their contracts are up in a few years. Now that one of them has taken the first plunge, I'm sure others will follow suit soon."

"You think so? And all of them will convert to the Pacha faith?"

Corco followed Sumaci's pointed finger towards the ship the couple had boarded. Although the vessel's wooden exterior looked a bit worn, it had been decorated with various cloth streamers, as well as waves and animals symbols of Medalan faith. From what Corco had been told, Egidius had loaned the vessel from a local fisherman for a considerable price. After, he had added his own decorations in secret, together with his bride-to-be.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

At this point, the two of them had begun to row away from the pier and towards the open waters. In accordance with Medala tradition, the young couple would spend several days in the wilderness by themselves, before they would return to their home as husband and wife. Though of course, wilderness was a relative term. They were well-prepared to face their time alone, and a small island in the Mayura River had been prepared for the young pair to call home during this time. After generations of civilization, the tradition had evolved into more of an early honeymoon rather than the original pair-bonding fight for survival it had originated from.

Even so, it was surprising that an Arcavian would play along with Medala's traditions in the way Egidius had.

"It'd be nice if they all were to convert, but I doubt it'll happen," Corco answered after a long pause.

"I assume they don't get married like this in the Orient."

"That's the problem right there. Nail on head. Egidius is kind of a weirdo among the Arcavians, at least by today's standards. He says he believes in Arcavus, but I'm pretty sure it's only because he'd be ostracized otherwise. At the very least, I haven't seen him practice any religious rites ever since he left Arcavia. That's why it was easy for him to agree to this type of wedding. Not that it means that he's actually converted to the Pacha faith with this. So I don't think we can draw any conclusion from his choices. Whether or not the others will follow his example remains to be seen."

"At least they looked happy," Sumaci said as she looked back along the river.

Again, Corco followed her lead and checked on his head engineer and his new bride. Indeed, the two newlyweds had sat down and snuggled together as their little boat slowly drifted downstream. As the distance and low-hanging sun turned them into silhouettes, the people disappeared and only the boat remained within Corco's sight.

"Oh crap, that reminds me," the king shouted out of nowhere, and rushed back towards his castle out of nowhere, followed by his silent guards.

"You are not staying? There will be a reception held by Ella's family later. They invited some traveling folk for music and dance. It sounded like it would be fun," a surprised Sumaci remained glued to the pier, but still called out to the inconsiderate Corco.

"No time," he called back. "This is important work, so I gotta get this done before I forget again. You have fun though."

And with that, the king left a visibly upset Sumaci to her own devices while he charged back into his work.

__________________________

Minutes later, Corco was once again seated behind the desk in his study, with Fadelio before him to answer his questions and take his orders.

"Okay, first off: Do we have any solid figures on the number of fishermen in the Chawir territory? Actually, I'd prefer numbers on all fishermen in the southern kingdom if that's possible."

For a moment Fadelio looked up from his notes with a furrowed brow, before he replied at last.

"We don't, not for the entire kingdom, nor for our estate. I can look up the numbers from the last full census if you want, but it's been a long time so I doubt they would be very accurate. As for the entire south's numbers, I don't think anyone has those. How would we get those numbers in the first place?"

"Well... we're already running around registering all the farmers in the territory, aren't we? Didn't we just do the same for all the other villagers while we were at it?" Corco countered.

"Yes we did, but only in the farming villages. And we're barely keeping up with things as is, so we don't have the manpower to frivolously spend them on a new census. We never sent anyone to the uncounted number of fishing villages along the coastline, because there's nothing to do or to report there. Since they don't need our fertilizer, they have no reason to hand their children over to school in Saniya, and we have no stakes in any of their businesses, so we have no particular incentive to control them or count them up. The only reason to go there is to collect taxes once a year, and that's still done on a village-by-village basis, not per citizen."

"In that case, it's high time we change that," a self-satisfied Corco said as he leaned back in his chair.

"Is that really necessary?" Fadelio looked even more unconvinced than before. "There isn't much money in fishery anyways. The fishermen are considerably poorer than the farmers, even without the fertilizer and new tools, so I feel like our efforts would be better spent elsewhere. What about supporting the merchants or craftsmen instead?"

"The merchants are fine, as are the craftsmen. For now, there is little we can do for the artisan class now that we have our first machines and manufactories up and running. At this point, we need to wait for natural accumulation. As time goes by, more craftsmen will join us from all across the empire, while our own apprentices will come of age and contracts of our old experts run out. Only then can they start setting up a freer, more competitive economy."

While Corco was speaking, Fadelio took notes of everything, even though they were plans the king had already reiterated several times in the past.

"As for the merchants, they'll find a way to grow, whether or not we support them. It's in their nature," Corco grinned. He understood the merchants more than most, since he himself had been one of them. "And it's not like I won't play guiding light for a bit, I already have my plans. Though I'd prefer to wait until Brym's back before we get into that. When it comes to money, he's the expert after all."

"Understood," Fadelio replied, still scribbling away.

"As for the fishermen: You're underestimating their importance, criminally. All of that just because you're not considering scale, nor the future. First off, as our numbers increase we need a lot of food anyways. Adding some more fish to our collective diet is both healthy and helps us build up a stockpile faster. Also, kelp makes for a great source of phosphate, so harvesting it helps our fertilizer business. It's also rich in iodine, which is a nice bonus. We're always looking for new sources of fertilizer even though we have such a treasure trove right at our door step. After all, it's not called the Verdant Sea for no reason. All we need to tap into it is to scale up our production. Then the fishermen will stop being so inefficient, or poor, if you prefer. Bigger ships, bigger nets, larger crews and such. Once they get into deeper waters with better equipment, our fishing business will become a goldmine."

"Although I'm sure you already have a solution for this, I doubt these people will just accept such a dramatic change in their lifestyle. They are poor for a reason, despite the rich waters close to their homes. They don't have good ships and won't dare go out to sea too far for fear of pirates and sea serpents."

Every time Corco came up with one of his ambitious plans, this was Fadelio's role: He would invoke counterpoints and force Corco into explanations. If his plans didn't stand up to Fadelio's scrutiny, it was usually a good idea to hold back and think matters through more. Luckily, this time the king was well-prepared.

"Well, the pirates are working for us now, at least the Verdant ones. So that should no longer be a problem," Corco said. "As for the serpents: We should be able to convince them that the waters are safe once they have some strength in numbers and a ship that has a deck more than a meter off the water. Good old-fashioned greed and ambition will take care of the rest."

"Which still leaves the problem that we simply don't have the larger fishing vessels you want, nor could the poor fishermen ever pay for them if we did. Where would those ships even come from?"

"Of course we'll build them in our shipyard, right here in Saniya. As for the purchase cost, I intend to let each fishing village get their first ship on a loan. That way, the entire village can work together on one large vessel, which increases their output. Probably also a good idea to give every crew member partial ownership of the ship, which guarantees the prosperity of the entire village and reduces the chance that one of them just sells the ship to live a life of luxury, or that they get a big head and turn dread-pirate."

"More costs, again," Fadelio moaned. With the humor of a stone brick, he ignored Corco's comedic timing and instead bothered with more administrative details.

"Nonono, not this time!" Corco half stood up to preempt another annoying talk about budgets. "I mean, we're not giving them any money from our treasury, are we? All they get is the output from our shipyard, and that one's producing ships either way. They're more useful with the fishermen than in our harbor, where they'd do nothing. Rather than spend money on the measure, we'd slowly increase our income as they pay us back for the ship, and we could set up contracts that gives us a portion of the fishing businesses in the territory. Same deal as with the farmers: They pay for their advantages with a portion of their profits, and they need to get registered and controlled by Saniya, plus we get their children into school."

"It's a good method to integrate more of the empire, that's for sure," Fadelio agreed. "Though if the shipyard only builds these fishing vessels, what would we do about our military presence at sea?"

"For now, we don't need a presence, I don't think," Corco replied in a calm tone as he sat back down. "I mean, we won't have a fleet to rival the Bornish in the east any time soon, and we already control the Verduic Sea through our alliance with the Verdant Isles. Rather, if we increase our presence in the west, our allies might think that we are trying to rival their dominance, which would only cause unnecessary confrontation. Plus, it's not like we won't build any battleships at all. We've built our shipyard a year ago and started on the first ships three months later. By now, we're getting close to producing the first batch of modern vessels, a group of galleons. Once that's done, I intend to split the apprentices into smaller groups and see how much they've learned from their masters. Of course they're nowhere good enough to build a galleon all by themselves, but building a larger fishing vessel should be a good first test of their skills, and good practice for the future. This way, we'll massively speed up our output in the long run. We can also include a handful of merchant vessels in the project, since I expect our trade with Chutwa and the Verdant Folk to heat up a lot in the next few years."

Corco's speech got faster and faster as the future developed before his mind's eye.

"Then, as the apprentices learn more and the shipwrights from Arcavia get more used to the surroundings, we'll start producing galleons like there's no tomorrow. And here's where you failed to consider the future: Once we start mass-producing ships, we will need a great deal of sailors to operate them. Where are they gonna come from, I ask?" The king spread his hands in dramatic fashion, before he answered his own question.

"The most obvious place would be from our own fishing villages. But for these villagers to accept their new responsibilities, they need to be properly prepared. They can't just go from a tiny fishing jalopy to a modern battleship. But just like the apprentice shipwrights, everything will go a lot smoother if they can take an intermediate step and try their hands on larger fishing ship first."

While Corco gloated about his grand ideas, Fadelio looked up from his notes with a sigh and leaned back in his own seat.

"As always, I'm surprised by how well you've thought everything through. The detail you put into these plans... sometimes I feel like it might be better used for administrative work."

"Isn't that what I have you for?" the king smirked.

"Of course, master," the servant replied with an unnecessary degree of severity.

"Ah, that reminds me!" Corco jumped up again and began to pace around his studio as he painted more of the future in his head. "Here's another useless detail I've been thinking about: I want the fishing vessels to not only collect fish and the kelp for fertilizer. I also want to offer a price for empty sea shells. Right now, the lower class people turn a few of them into cheap jewelry and the rest is thrown back into the sea, so they should be cheap and it won't strain our budget too much even if we buy literal tons of them."

Again, Fadelio had returned to that critical look from before.

"Do the sea shells have any value I am unaware off? As far as I understand, they're just calcium, correct?"

"That's right," Corco stopped his march around his office to give a more thorough explanation. "Grind them up and you'd basically end up with limestone. Yes, we got our limestone mines already, but we need it for just about anything anyways, from cement to steel production, so it's not like we won't find a place to use them. I admit that the purchase is a bit of a waste since it's more expensive than simply hiring another worker or three for the mines, but in the short term, you can consider it an early investment in the fishing industry. While in the long run, I'd consider it a security measure."

With one of his characteristic, enigmatic smiles, Corco looked into the future, where more and more of his plans would bear fruit. In response, Fadelio only had a shrug to offer. Corco was glad that he finally had his assistant back, the voice of reason to calm his own enthusiasm from time to time. Still, this one time he wouldn't tell Fadelio all the details to invite an argument. At some point, the warrior would realize the importance of the sea shells. Corco was really looking forward to his reaction at that time.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

235 New Weaponry

Inside the foundry, the air was always heavy from heat. Corco felt as if everything inside these halls was being compressed, melted down into its proper shape by the atmosphere. As expected of Saniya's greatest workshop, even the air was on the side of progress. For once, he didn't linger to bask in the glory of the foundry's efficiency. Instead, he led his guards towards the back of the building, past the largest furnace.

Although everyone around them was hard at work, and although the king's visits had become a regular occurrence by now, the workers still took time away from their duties to salute their king every time they saw him. Corco replied each one in kind before he stepped through the door into the back rooms.

In here, only the most talented and most trusted steel workers would be allowed, because it was the experimental area of Saniya's foundry, where the true progress was made. When the king entered, he was engulfed by the same heat as before, yet he still felt much lighter in here, even though sweat streamed from every pore on his body.

With a spring in his step, he marched past the core of the research facility, a number of smaller furnaces. Within them, the workers would create new ratios and mixtures of various steels and metal alloys every day. Since good materials were vital for the development of new technologies, these furnaces were permanent installations rather than temporary measures.

After all, without a sufficient quality steel, something as advanced as a steam engine or other complex and large machinery with great strain on their parts would never be possible. Thus, his best workers would ceaselessly search for new useful mixtures of metals and fine-tune the ones thy had already discovered. At the end of every day, the workers would document their progress, to be archived in Rapra Castle's library.

Yet even though these experiments were vital for Saniya's development and had already begun to yield results, he hadn't come for them today. Instead, he stepped towards the end of the line of furnaces, where his workers were busy around another furnace and a large number of clay molds. When their king approached them, the men noticed the new arrival and the head worker stepped forward for a greeting.

"King Corco! Welcome!" Asiro the blacksmith said with swagger in his voice and his step.

"Master Asiro. How are you doing?" Their conversations had gotten a lot more casual in the year they had worked together on various projects.

"Much better today. This work has been tricky, held us up for months, so we could not focus much on our other projects."

"But you're finished now?" Corco got excited. The foundry's top security project represented a big step froward, even in Saniya, where big steps forward were a daily occurrence.

"Please look for yourself, King Corco." With pride in his voice, Asiro stepped to the side and pointed to the clay mould on the ground. Finally, Corco saw its contents, half unearthed from the clay. He realized that his hopes had come true. Inside the mould's lower half lay the barrel of a cannon. Yet unlike the usual barrels of Saniya's or Borna's current armies, these weren't made from copper. They also weren't built from multiple individual part. Instead, the barrel had the dark-gray sheen of iron and had been moulded from a single piece of metal.

"You've solved it. You've actually made a moulded iron cannon," an excited Corco said as he crouched down to run his hands over the smooth surface. He doubted the cannon had come out of the mould this clean and smooth. The workers must have put in some extra effort to prepare for his visit and present their achievements in the best way possible. It was a commitment to detail and showmanship the king could respect.

"That's right, no more cracks in this one either," Asiro explained. "Was a right bitch to get it done well, that I tell you."

"How'd you do it?" the king asked. Cracks had been a persistent problem throughout their previous attempts at cannon moulds. When they had first tried, the steel had looked fine when poured, but it had begun to crack and deform every time the metal cooled down and hardened. Yet this barrel was cool enough to touch and still looked impeccable.

"First we had to get the right type of iron, pliable and springy enough so it wouldn't just break apart with a small temperature change. We've played around with the types of iron we made in here and found one that's soft enough so it wouldn't just crack form the cold or from shock once we fire it."

Corco looked up to Asiro with a critical glance.

"But the question is: Is it still able to fire without bending out of shape completely when it's this soft? This fires what, a six kilo cannon ball?"

"It is six kilos, King Corco, or thereabouts," the blacksmith explained. "For now, we were busied enough in our attempts to keep the moulded barrel from bursting. So we didn't bother with exact, measurements yet."

"That's fine, you can adjust the details now that you have the production method down. Out of curiosity, how did you keep the barrels from cracking?" Corco asked as he stood back up to face the blacksmith.

"After we managed to find a proper metal to work with, we had already reduced the issues somewhat. Still, only a small crack can cause a catastrophic failure once the cannon is fired, so we came up with some other solutions to build on our first success."

Asiro walked next to the king and took his previous place. Crouched next to the cannon's mould, he continued his explanation.

"First off, I thought that the reason for the failures may be air trapped in the hot steel as it is being poured. So we came up with a better pouring method out of a wider, shallower spout. That way, we get less splash and less chance of trapped air in the closed mould."

As he talked, he signaled over to the furnace the cannon's metal had been poured from.

"Then, we used a constant, slow heat treatment to slow down the mould's cooling process." He pointed over to a large, open bed of coals, large enough to house the clay mould in its entirety.

"Once the steel was poured, we set the entire mould on top of coals. I thought the higher temperatures would be a good way to slow down the cooling process. Slower cooling means less sudden movement from the contracting metal, which in theory should have reduced the chance for cracks, or so I thought. For now we are unsure if it had any positive effects, so we might need to try a few more iterations."

"Good work. And did you already do a test run with this one? I mean, you did do test runs, those were hard to overhear, but it's kinda tough to distinguish if the noise came from a three kilo or a six kilo cannon." Of course Corco already knew that the factory workers had been testing their finished cannons in the backyard. Even if he hadn't approved a portion of gunpowder for that express purpose, he would have learned about their tests either way. After all, the persistent bangs of cannon fire had continued to ring from the foundry's backyard all the way to the castle for the past few weeks.

"Not quite. We have done a few test fires and the barrels held up fine, but we still don't know if it won't deform or break after repeated use."

Unlike most of his servants, especially those from Saniya, Asiro didn't look flustered by Corco's inquisition, and he didn't apologize for the noise his team had produced either. Right from the start, the blacksmith had seemed much more casual and personable in his interactions with the king. On top of that, he would also understand the king much better than most due to their repeated interactions. At this point, Asiro would know that Corco simply liked to complain from time to time, but would never mind noise if it had come from hard, honest work in service of the kingdom.

"As I have said before, we still need to make some long-term tests," Asiro continued. "Also, as you have suggested, King Corco, we've submerged the finished cannons in water to check for small holes and leaks in the finished cannons and couldn't find anything. That work's done before we bore the lute's opening at the back. All in all, any changes we need to make from here would be minor and are only a matter of time and hustle, so I would consider the job as good as done. Congratulations, King Corco. Saniya's armies will now have an infinite supply of cannons."

"Well, it's hardly infinite, is it? In the first place, how much of this steel can we produce?" Although Corco disagreed with the bold claim, it still made him smile.

"Over the last months, production has gone up a lot, but we are still limited by our coal supplies," Asiro answered as he stood up. "Now that we have established the connections to the mountains of Cashan, we get constant shipments of iron ore, more than enough to keep the foundry running without breaks. Still, the lack of coal is what prevents us. So there are off-days when the forges go out due to a lack of materials. Worse, reheating the master furnace every single time after it's gone cold is a massive waste of time and resources. That wastes even more of what little coal we have."

"There's no need for your to worry about resources, I have plans to solve your issues. Chutwa has some cheap coal, so once we have our trade routes established there, we should be able to buy more than enough for our purposes, at least for a while. For now, I want you to focus on cannon production. We'll be needing a lot of them, and soon."

Although Corco still felt boxed in by the deficiencies of their production chain, the new cannons were a huge leap forward nevertheless. With the new single-mould method worked out by Asiro, they would be able to mass-produce cheap and reliable iron cannons rather than the much more expensive bronze ones they had been using before. There also wasn't any complex assembly necessary any more, which would further speed up their process.

Not only would they produce many more cannons than before, they would also be able to produce much larger calibers. Not even the Bornish cannons would be able to compete with theirs at that point. It was a shame that he had just slowed down their production of battleships in favor of merchant and fishing vessels, but these cannons were still needed to protect the shores and fortresses of the southern kingdom from any would-be invaders. Once they were installed in the towers along his roads and shores as well as inside his castles, the southern kingdom would be practically impossible to attack by outside forces.

"Very well done," a satisfied Corco concluded the demonstration. "Tell your team that they can take the next three days off. Everyone here will be getting a huge bonus to party with."

As shouts of celebrations broke out among the workers, the king took Asiro to the side for some additional instructions.

"As a security measure, I want you to cover all the cannons with a thin layer of copper before any of them leave this facility, do you understand?"

"Of course, King Corco," the blacksmith answered. Whether he understood the importance of counterintelligence or not, Corco had no doubt that he would fulfill his commands.

"And I'll be sending you our old copper cannons over as they get replaced by your new iron ones. I want you to smelt them down into bars and send them to the treasury in the castle. We'll be needing a whole lot of it soon, so every little bit helps."

Once Asiro had agreed and joined his men for the celebrations inside the foundry, Corco made his way back to his castle. Although he wouldn't be able to participate in the fun, the men would be much more relaxed without their monarch around, and he still had to deal with many more issues anyways. With the copper from Cashan's mines and the additional material from their old cannons, they may just have enough to start his biggest short-term plans as soon as Brym arrived in the city. Lost in thought, the king stepped foot out of the foundry, yet a new arrival ruined his chipper mood.

"King Corco, there are troublesome news." Tama had waited right outside the door and spoke in a stern tone as soon as the king appeared.

"Ah Tama, weren't you playing invisible in the castle for a while. What could be so important that you left the castle to meet me yourself?" An inquisitive Corco asked. Although Tama had become invisible to the public, the rumors around her evil persona had never ceased. In fact, they became even more embellished the more time passed, no doubt stoked by Tama herself. Meanwhile, the girl had spent most of her time inside the castle, either with tailors to create some fashion items for her or immersed in her work as the head of Corco's young intelligence agency.

"The ghosts managed to trace back the source of the rumors." Though her statement was simple, Corco understood her perfectly well.

"Who? Who's trying to ruin us?" As soon as he heard the news, the king's voice lowered, both in volume and in pitch. He wasn't in a fanciful mood anymore. Now he was dead serious.

Not long ago, a rumor had started to spread among the noble circles of the southern kingdom. According to whispers, Corco's goal was to abolish the warrior class, and maybe the entire cast system right after. As proof, the lords and ladies at the banquets insisted that Corco's soldiers weren't cultivators, and thus they couldn't be called proper warriors. Such a diffusion of class lines was unacceptable to some of the lords.

While the rumor was certainly not false and accurately described Corco's future plans of a classless Medala, its spread would make all of Corco's political dealings a lot more difficult from now on. Not to mention that the proof was more than flimsy. Whoever had spread the rumors wouldn't know about Corco's true goals, but only tried to discredit Corco and reduce his influence within the noble circles. He had done his best to deny the claims in front of the other lords, but the rumors would still leave a nasty aftertaste and would force him to slow down some of his future plans.

"It seems like the rumor first spread during one of Lord Ogulno's banquets," Tama said with the same impassive voice as before. Although she didn't look upset, her voice was as cold as ice.

"My uncle again." Corco narrowed his eyes. "Looks like we've been too nice to him and now he thinks we can do whatever he wants. It's high time we act, this will be the last time Ogulno, or anyone, tries to play political games like this. As soon as Brym comes back, we'll make sure he's too busy to bother with us anymore, ever."
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.
Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

236 Shadows

As soon as Brym stepped out of Corco's study, he was confronted by one of the old Fastgrade accountants he had been acquainted with back in Arcavia.

*Alyn,* he matched name to face. *Somehow, they're all called Alyn.*

"Young Master Brymstock, welcome to Saniya," the accountant said with a bow.

"Thank you, Alyn. I'm glad to be finally here, reunited with everyone once more. I hope you've done a good job preparing my room for me." With a wink, Brym made sure his little jest would be understood as such. He remembered that this Alyn had always been too serious and direct for his own good, so the young merchant had to make sure he would not be misunderstood. Even so, the accountant managed to miss all the clues.

"Of course, young master. The old Fastgrade troupe has done it's best to prepare your new accommodations to the standards you would expect," Alyn replied in a stern voice and with no attempts at a smile. "Please follow me, I will show you to your new work space."

"Lead the way, Alyn."

With an immovable smile, young master Brym – the future head of Saniya's finance department – followed the stern accountant down the long hallways. He would not get into an argument about his guide's lack of humor, since he had bigger issues to worry about. Behind his back, Brym held the letter of orders he had just received from Corco. Not only did they indicate his future role within Saniya, they also gave him the authority to work freely, without supervision and with considerable resources.

While Corco had wanted to make Brym the head of the finance department right away, Brym wasn't so keen on the role without any contributions of his own. Although his big brother had talked about 'getting the bean counters in line', Brym knew that they would only breed resentment if he became everyone's boss right away, without any achievements. To his luck, Fadelio had sided with him and convinced Corco of a slower course of action.

Thus, the king had compromised. For now, the young merchant would only become boss of his own little division within the finance department. He would not be involved in budgetary work at all. Instead, he would only be responsible for the southern kingdom's still non-existent mint and the almost invisible banking industry of Saniya. Only if his current assignment went well would he be allowed to run the entire place and get access to core institutions like the treasury.

A ray of sunlight caught Brym's eye and interrupted his thoughts. When he looked up from the carpet below his feet, he realized that they had reached the outer parts of Rapra's upper castle floors. Through the open balconies, he was confronted with the morning sun, and a view of the entire city below him.

First was the lower portion of the castle itself, with its constant, hectic activity from servants, guards and accountants. Then came the Mayura River with its many piers and harbor. Ships traveled to and fro between the river banks and out into the ocean. Some were military vessels to guard and the three large river islands where most of Saniya's technology and military was stationed for now. Most however were merchant ships, on their way north to Amautu's kingdom or west to the Verdant Isles and Chutwa, all of them eager to make a fortune.

Farther yet, besides the river, the old city surrounded by the city wall could be found. When he had arrived in Saniya and made his way to the castle, he had already felt the energy and optimism of its people within every street and every plaza. Workers, merchants, priests or travelers, they all rushed along the wide roads while carrying all kinds of items to sell or show off. Even so, they still took the time to greet each other.

With the new king had come new rules, and the commoners were much more free to express themselves in public without fear of repercussions. From time to time, a young student would walk through the crowd, his head buried in some scribbled paper he had brought from the royal academy. In fact, ever since Corco had opened his school, it had grown quickly and integrated children from all over the Chawir marches. By now, almost one in five citizens of Saniya were students.

While Brym had taken to the place right from the start, the warm atmosphere of the people also felt foreign to him, unreal like a painting. As a man who had spent most of his youth on the run, traveling from kingdom to kingdom, the young merchant had never truly called any place his home, and Saniya was no exception. No matter how much he was welcomed by the people at the harbor or inside the castle, no matter how glad he was to see Corco and the others again, he still felt like a stranger, and the tension he would feel in an unknown, possibly hostile environment never quite left him. His anxiousness clenched his fingers, and with it Corco's written orders.

For Brym, they was more than just a piece of paper. Maybe, he hoped, it would allow him to find a home at last. Maybe equipped with a mission, with purpose and responsibilities, he would have something more, something that would bind him to this place and make him one of its own. If all else failed, he would still be distracted by the mountains of work, at least for a little while.

After a lengthy walk and far too much time for his private thoughts, Alyn and Brym had reached their goal. Behind a simple, innocuous door within the lower castle, they uncovered a large, open room equipped with at least a dozen work desks. Officials ran back and forth and carried pieces of paper between them, with even more urgency than the people within the city had displayed when they had carried their goods.

"Young Master Brym, welcome to Saniya's finance department," Alyn said with a pride in his voice Brym couldn't understand.

"I'm glad to be part of the team again," he answered as he offered a friendly nod to one of the accountants near the entrance. As Alyn and Brym marched through the rows upon rows of tables, all the old accountants from the former Fastgrade merchant company greeted him with warm enthusiasm. Although the many Saniya youngsters who had since become their apprentices looked confused at first, they still followed their masters' lead and did the same.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.webnovel.com for visiting.

"Young master Brym, this will be your new office space for now." His words spoken, Alyn slid open the paper door to Brym's private office. Since he wasn't in charge of the whole finance department for now, he wouldn't get the large office at the end of the hall. Even so, he was in charge of an independent sub-division. As a result, he had been given his own little office, removed from the noise of the main hall.

"Thank you, Alyn," he said with a practiced, natural smile while he took a seat behind his desk.

"I have already prepared all the relevant documents on the kingdom's finances to bring you up to speed, young master. Just call for me once you have oriented yourself, or if you need anything at all."

With that, the stern accountant closed the door behind him and left Brym to his own devices. Hidden behind the paper door, the young merchant could see shadows rush back and forth, so close to him and yet impossible to grasp.

With a sigh, the finance department's new recruit picked up the first paper from the stack of documents to his right and concentrated on his work. As the stack to his right became shorter, a new stack to his left came into being. All the while, the silhouettes of his fellow coworkers created a constant background noise.

Once he had finished about half the stack, he had managed to get a rough idea of the kingdom's financial dealings, as well as their trade volume and what could only be considered a laughable amount of money lending and banking within Saniya. For the moment, his goal was to turn this loose and weak branch of Saniya's economy into one of the trunks the entire system would be built upon.

While it sounded like a grand goal, Corco had already done quite a bit of the prep work and the two of them had worked out a detailed plan of operations a long time ago. Now that he had an in-depth look into the actual numbers, it was time to start his work proper. Thus, he stood and marched towards the busy hall just outside his office.

"Alyn," he called out of the opened door and into the de-silhouetted crowd. "Come into my office."

After he had returned to his desk, Brym began to scribble down some notes to make a preliminary plan for the future of his little division. For now, he had a lot of work to do, but at least he wouldn't have to do it alone. Soon, Alyn appeared again.

"You needed me for something, young master?" Alyn asked with a stiff bow.

"Sit." Brym pointed at the chair in front of his desk, and the accountant obliged. "First off, I'll inform you of the orders I received from the king."

"Am I allowed to know their contents?" a wide-eyed Alyn asked.

"You need to know them, actually, since I was ordered to create a new sub-division within the department of finance. You are its first member. Here is a number of other names I want to be added to the group, five people in total." Brym stretched over the desk and handed Alyn the paper he had been working on before.

"Thank you, young master," an enthusiastic Alyn replied. Since he had been with them since the days of the Fastgrade Merchant Company, Alyn would know how much Corco valued Brym, his younger brother by oath. As a result, even without a raise, any of the experienced workers within the department would be thrilled to work for the new banking division, if only to get in the king's good graces. Anyone who had done so before had found riches or fame soon after.

"And... what does our special department do, if I may ask?" Alyn spoke in a careful tone and leaned forward as if he had just become part of a conspiracy.

"For now, our most immediate goal is to manufacture an over-abundance of copper supplies within the southern kingdom, and a shortage of silver and gold. That part shouldn't be too difficult. Our trade volume is already astonishing compared to our low overall population, and we have two good-quality copper mines running at high capacity. In fact, ever since Cashan's mines have been reopened, Kapra's own Lord Ogulno seems to have increased his own output for some bizarre reason." Although Brym repeated what he had read in the documents earlier, he really couldn't understand the reason behind House Ogulno's actions.

"It seems like Lord Ogulno has concluded that Cashan wants to challenge his position as the main copper supplier of the south, so he increased the volume in turn to oppose them." Though Alyn answered, it didn't clear up Brym's confusion.

"So it said in the documents... but what's the point? Do they want to show off how much copper they have in the ground? Even though this Lord Ogulno seems a bit dim, he should have a servant or two who can understand that an excess of copper on the market will only reduce prices and harm both Cashan and Kapra, right?"

Again, Alyn leaned forward and lowered his voice. This time, he even looked around the empty office to check for spies.

"According to rumor, that is exactly the idea. House Ogulno cannot know just how efficient Cashan's new tools and mining methods are. They may think that Cashan's mining operations have been started for the same reason they did under the previous Lord Villca: They have been launched so the north-east can be less dependent on Kapra. Since they are born out of political necessity, the mines are not profitable in the least. If Lord Ogulno reduces the cost of copper by flooding the market, Cashan's operations would lose them even more money than before. Thus, they would be forced to give up on their attempts and go back to buying from House Ogulno."

"Those are just rumors, right?" a baffled Brym asked. "How could you possibly know all this?"

"The ghost warriors have been snooping around Kapra, and their findings in the matter are considered an open secret in the castle. As a result, this information should be treated as confirmed."

Brym only had to think for a moment before a wide grin spread on his face.

"That's good. In fact, that's great. This way, Lord Ogulno's misunderstanding has already made things a lot easier for us. All we need to do now is give the market a little extra push. Since Ogulno wants low copper prices so bad, we may as well oblige him. First off: I want you to talk with the departments in charge of trade and borders. I want to make sure we only buy goods entering into the kingdom with silver and gold, and I want to make sure we only sell goods going out for copper. I also want the crown to pay anyone on its payroll in copper coins only. Whatever silver and gold is left over will be hoarded."

"That's easy to enforce so long as the products are purchased by the crown, but most of our trade volume comes from independent merchants," Alyn reminded.

"Not an issue at all. We'll just put a tariff on all outgoing copper and all incoming silver and gold. That way, the merchants will naturally do what we want. After all, they're always most interested in their margins."

"Very well. I will take care of it right away," Alyn bowed again and stood up to begin his work.

"No need to hurry," Brym held him back. "First, inform every member of our new team of their reassignment. We won't start with our work until everything is properly organized."

"I will get to it right away," Alyn repeated and marched towards the door.

"Oh, and another thing."

"Yes?" Again, the accountant turned around, his hand already on the door. If he was irritated, it was impossible to tell.

"We need to talk to some craftsmen about getting a few custom presses made."

"Presses?" a confused Alyn asked.

"Yes. High pressure, easy to handle and easy to mass-produce with. That is the second part of our orders: It's high time Saniya got its own mint off the ground."

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

237 New Chapters Coming Today and tomorrow, and...

Long time no see people, hermit here.

It's that time of the year again, time for me to write why I'm not writing. Feel free to be upset about this in the comments, while I pretend that I'll have this writing thing under control from now on.

First off, I haven't been posting for various reasons, though I have been writing again since a while ago. I had my hand injured around the start of the year and couldn't type for a while, and then got all anxious about missing deadlines for Enlightened Empire without informing all of you (again), so I didn't want to post without being caught up with my schedule at least. Luckily, there was a very convenient pandemic which forced me into a bunch of free time, so I managed to get that done eventually... but then I had like 30 chapters piled up, and reformating, scheduling and posting 30 chapters each on three different sites all at once sounded like a nightmare, so I've kept pushing it back for no good reason.

As a result, I've decided to do this in parts instead. From today on, I'll update 5 chapters a day, until I'm caught up again (which may take me a week or so).

At the same time, there's two more projects I'll be updating:

1. The Last Utopia, my dystopian sci-fantasy story, is no longer an amazon exclusive, so I'll be posting the full version for free on this site over the next week or so. For now, I'll consider this an experiment for later novels, to see if this move has any effect on book sales (positive or negative). We'll see if I'll end up doing the same for every future novel, or just for this one.

2. I've been working on a xianxia novel with some murder mystery elements mixed in which I'm comfortable to let others see now... and I already have the first couple chapters up on my pat-reon (pat-ren.com/hermitscave). I'll start posting chapters here (and unlocking more pat-reon chapters) once I've settled on a final title, and once I've got a half-decent cover. May take me between an hour and several years.

So that's everything I've got in the works, plenty of content to binge through if you still care about any of my stuff at this point. And with all that apocalypse happening outside right now, it's probably the right time for mass-content as well. I really hope this ends up being a distraction for a couple people, or that at least you'll enjoy what I'll be posting. As always, I'll promise to read the comments, though I'm not sure how far back I'm willing to go (there are a lot of them).

Stay safe, stay healthy, and have fun reading,

S.H.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

238 Worthless

Just like Sawo had said, they sold all of their cloth the same day they returned to Saniya. However, in the process they didn't have much more luck with currency than in Kapra. Once again, they failed to get any silver or gold for their efforts. They were only left with more worthless copper coins, which did nothing but weigh them down.

Though of course, commoners would not spend valuable gold or silver coins on a meter of cloth on the market, even less since they were only worth a few coppers anyways, so he hadn't expected much. At least they had managed to trade some of their cloth for daily necessities directly. They could use the salt and grain for a long time to come, even through this copper crisis Even so, Sawo felt frustrated as he and his cousin lugged the chest filled with their copper cargo back from the market through the city and to their new home. All along the way, they could see more people barter for goods in the same way they had done. At this point, few trusted the copper any more. If they had the choice, they stayed at home. If they had to go to the market, they would rather trade for salt than copper.

Despite their trouble, the cousins managed to sell most of their goods, so they could spend a calm night back in their new home – a small wooden house along the southern part of the city walls. The following day at the crack of dawn, Sawo remained back to guard their donkey cart and precious cargo, while Tawo went off to contact the jewelers he knew, so they could get rid of their valuable amber as soon as possible. If nothing else, at least a jeweler would have some silver to offer them in exchange.

As he entered the shack he called a stables, Sawo was confronted by the lazy stare of their merchant company's first and most trusted worker. Despite her master's appearance, she continued to chew away just like she had done before. Jenny was a younger donkey they happened to purchase on the cheap from a farmer they had met a few months back. The man had made a lot of money during the previous harvest and was determined to replace his donkeys with more sturdy and stronger oxen to ease his workload for this year.

Ever since the first farmer had been acknowledged by the king during a ceremony at the start of the year, all his peers had been inspired to try their hardest and reclaim more farmland from the hostile nature around them. Not that it had anything to do with Sawo. Rather than strive for more land with them and charge into the future, he was stuck here, busied with mundane tasks and neither respected nor acknowledged by anyone.

With another sigh of many, the former city lord poured the contents of his bucket – oats and carrot chunks – into Jenny's trough. The greedy animal charged into its meal without so much as a word of thanks.

\"Eat up,\" he mumbled and stroked the unresponsive donkey's mane a few times. Even so, the warrior merchants' hardest worker remained unmoved. While Jenny was distracted with her food, Sawo looked around the dim shack to make sure no-one had followed him and that there were no signs of forced entry on the door. Only then did he sneak into the far corner. The thick straw here was Jenny's usual resting spot, and it stank just like one would expect a donkey stable to stink. Even so, Sawo held his nose and lifted parts of the straw to the side.

Beneath all the mess, and half-buried under some loose soil, he unearthed their little treasure box, just where he had left it the previous day. Inside, they had hidden the most valuable and most important goods from their previous trip: the amber from Puscanacra. At first, they had wanted to buy some products right in Kapra, but that hadn't worked out too well.

Due to Lord Ogulno's stubbornness and the resultant depreciation of copper, none of the local traders had been willing to take the cheap coins off their hands. Thus, they had been forced to try their luck further down the road and buy some product in Puscanacra instead. After all of the hurdles they had to cross, Sawo was determined to get some proper currency for his troubles this time. If he ended up with even more copper in exchange for their amber, he may as well just turn back to robbery. After all, the dark elements of society had flourished together with the rest of the city.

Although Saniya's public order had been decent when the new king took over, more and more foreigners streamed into the freshly paved roads of the city. As a result, the local guards were overwhelmed and security had suffered quite a bit. While both him and Tawo were former warriors and had the physique and fighting talent to prove it, they still had no reason to flaunt their wealth and become targets.

Thus, they kept what little property they had hidden away like this. There was another box inside their house, but this stash was specifically for temporary property they intended to trade away. In the end, no matter how strong they were, they wouldn't stand a chance against a local gang with dozens of members. It was best if Tawo came back soon, with some good news and an order from his jeweler in tow. So long as the box was still stuck in his hands, Sawo wouldn't sleep with a calm mind.

After he had confirmed the contents and hidden the box again, he waited until Jenny was finished with her meal. Just as he took up the bucket again to get back to their house, the shack's door opened. Sawo's tensed body relaxed as soon as he recognized the new arrival.

\"I thought you would be in here, brother,\" Tawo said. \"You were not in the house.\"

\"So what did your jeweler friend say?\" Sawo asked, in no mood for chitchat and eager to distract from his previous tension.

\"Ah, he was not present in his old workshop. I only caught hold of his wife.\"

\"Then what are we supposed to do with all the...\" Sawo paused, looked outside and lowered his voice. \"...amber?\"

\"Not to worry brother, I know where we can get our pay.\" Tawo walked over and retrieved the treasure box Sawo had just stowed away again. \"Come on, we better get there so long as it is still light out.\"

\"Right.\" Sawo dropped the bucket and picked up a wooden club from besides the shack's door before he turned to his cousin. \"In that case, we should be off.\"

While one held their valuables and the other held their protection, the two cousins walked through the crowded streets of the old, south-western part of Saniya. By now, the old districts to the south-west of the Mayura River were the only parts of the city that still looked anything like they had during Sawo's reign. Though even here, workers had begun to break up the old roads and replace them with newer, smoother stone. Wherever possible, citizens were relocated and old, dilapidated houses torn down to make more room for wider streets, or grander constructions. Though Sawo really didn't like all the change at break-neck pace, he had more important matters on his mind.

\"Where are we going, brother?\" he asked.

\"We need to go to Sillu island. While I did not meet my jeweler friend at his home, he is still in the jewelry business. His wife was kind enough to tell me where he has gone. Ever since the king has begun to recruit workers for his manufactories, it has become harder and harder for ordinary craftsmen to compete for prices. As a result, my friend has asked another jeweler he knew to get him a position inside one of the king's jewelry manufactories. That is where we are headed right now. While he is not in charge of acquisition there, he should still be able to introduce us to someone who can take the amber off our hands. I heard the king's production centers are voracious beasts that eat raw materials like a whale eats fish. We will surely sell our goods there, and for a good price. And since it is owned by the crown, they may even pay us in silver this time.\"

__________________________

\"Look, there is nothing more I can do for you. We will be glad to take the amber off your hands, but I really cannot pay you in any other way.\"

\"Are you serious? What is this nonsense?\" Ever since they had entered the king's manufactory, and then made their way into the offices in the back, Sawo had kept quiet and let his more agreeable cousin do the talking. However, faced with another injustice, he could no longer restrain himself. His blood began to boil as he held up one of the giant sheets of copper they had been presented with as compensation for their hard work.

\"That is your pay, good man.\" The manufactory's foreman said in a cold voice.

\"What am I supposed to do with such a thing? How will I purchase anything with something like this?\" He dropped the plate onto the rest. At least the table was sturdy enough to handle the massive weight. However, the foreman was not intimidated by the noise and only had a lazy shrug to offer.

\"The same way I just did, I guess.\"

\"You were buying amber! But this is the size of a plate! If I travel to the market tomorrow, do you expect me to buy food with this? Or should I serve the food on it? No one will trade with me! I cannot so much as put this in my pocket. Do you want to make me a target for robbery?\"

\"Excuse me, there is nothing more I can do for you.\"

Although Sawo wanted to explode again and fight for justice, he was held back by his cousin's hand on his shoulder.

\"Please calm down, brother,\" Tawo said. \"Foreman Mayta, we meant no offense. However, I am sure you can see how such a payment method would create trouble for us. You work for the king, and your workplace seems like a well-run operation that would make good money, does it not?\"

\"It does.\" After the compliment, the foreman's cold face relaxed somewhat, but he still looked at them with suspicion in his eyes.

\"In that case, you could just as well pay us in silver, could you not? As an employee of the crown, you should have your contacts into the castle, so exchanging copper for silver should be easy.\"

When the foreman answered, his brow was wrinkled, and he had taken on a far less aggressive tone. In fact, he sounded almost tired.

\"I want to help you, but I cannot. A few days ago, the castle has declared silver a resources of strategic importance. That means that no government owned places are allowed to hand out any silver for any reason. At least that is what the warrior servants told me it means. Of course, that also means we cannot use it to pay anyone anymore, even if they bring us amber.\"

\"Strategic resources? What would the castle need this much silver for?\" a curious Tawo asked. Though to Sawo, the foreman's words sounded like little more than an excuse.

\"I am unsure.\" The foreman scratched his head. \"I have heard rumors that the navy plans to make cannonballs of silver to fight the sea serpents of the deep waters.\"

\"Is there really nothing else that can be done here?\" Sawo asked, now in a more conciliatory tone. He wasn't interested in fairy tales of sea serpents and the like, and neither did he want to spend the rest of his day on chit-chat with some rude foreman. Still, he understood that their predicament wasn't the man's fault, and that he wouldn't get anywhere with anger.

\"Look, I have already done as much as I can. You know, these plates are new prints from the castle, specifically designed to be used as currency because the price of copper has been dropping so much.

\"This copper war between Cashan and Kapra has really made trouble for everyone. Many normal folks have gone back to barter since their old coins are worth almost nothing now,\" Tawo added, before the foreman continued.

\"True enough. I hear that King Corcopaca sent an order to Lord Ogulno to stop his greedy mining operation, but Ogulno will not listen. Although the castle has tried to rectify things a bit with these new copper sheets, it seems there was a mix-up in the foundry when the metal was melted. As if we did not have enough trouble already. These sheets are only half made of copper, and the rest are other, cheaper metals that were mixed into the moulds.\"

\"So you are not even paying us in real copper!?\" Despite his best efforts, Sawo's voice exploded again.

\"That is the reason I called you lucky.\" In response to Sawo's aggression, the foreman returned to his impassive tone. \"If you were not friends with Apo, I would pay you with the coins at their face value. You already got almost twice as much as what I would pay anyone else. I am not supposed to do that, and I have to explain myself to the castle if someone finds out. Do you get that?\"

\"We truly appreciate the help.\" Tawo tried to mediate again, but Sawo only snorted in response. He was done talking. Any more would only make their position worse, no matter how unfair it was. However, the foreman had one last piece of advice left.

\"If you really want to get rid of the copper, I hear that the castle has been working on more permanent solutions. I am not sure what that is supposed to mean, but yesterday I saw a notice from the crown on the market square. Said that people can go trade their copper for better currency from today on. I think they were set up on Rapra Island. Maybe you should try your luck there.\"

\"In that case, we thank you very much for your help.\"

With one final attempt at civility, Tawo dragged the still silent Sawo out of the room, the worthless copper plates in their arms.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

239 Looking Around

After they had left the manufactory with their newest burden, the two cousins walked along the roads of Sillu Island, towards the castle in the distance.

\"Are they heavy, brother?\" Tawo asked and pointed at the copper plates in Sawo's arms.

\"I do not require any assistance,\" a defiant Sawo answered. Even though his arms were tired already, his old illness – his stubbornness – had reared its head again. He didn't care how sore his arms would feel tomorrow, he would be damned if he were to be defeated by some money. Never would he give in to weakness.

\"At least we do not have to travel far to exchange the sheets. The castle is right across a single bridge.\"

While Tawo pointed towards their goal, Sawo's mind was already occupied with larger matters. His drifting eyes had spotted several workers with shovels across from the island. They seemed to be deepening a hole at the side of the river bank for some purpose or another.

\"Say, they have been working on these openings for several months now. What do you think they are building there?\" Sawo asked.

\"It should be some type of sewage or drainage system, should it not? Like the one in Arguna? Why else would they build holes all over the city?\" Tawo looked over to the workers before he made his guess.

\"That seems possible.\" Although his cousin didn't seem too interested, the workers captivated Sawo. Especially since he recognized one of them as one of his former warriors from his time as city lord.

\"Maybe we could get involved in construction as well,\" Sawo mused. \"After all, most of our men are working in this are at the moment. As soon as the sentences for our old warrior servants and the various bandit groups are up, they will be free men again. By that point, they will have a wealth of experience in construction, more than enough expertise for us to start our own business.\"

\"I am sure a construction business would make good coin in Saniya. With how fast the city is growing, there would never be a lack of work.\" Tawo nodded his head in agreement, which only increased Sawo's enthusiasm.

\"Yes, and ever since they built the improved roads and the new funerary site outside the walls, the workers have become quite popular in the city. Imagine that, some unskilled workers have more prestige than the former city lord now. This could be our way back up to the top. All we need to do is build things people use every day and they will love us like they used to fear us.\"

\"But even if we wanted to work in construction, our men are still tied up in the labor camps for a few more years.\" Tawo tried to change the subject from their fall of status, something Sawo was usually quite grateful for, though he would never admit it. However, this time things were different. Now that he had found a way back up the social ladder, he no longer felt indignant about his former glory. However, Tawo didn't know that, so he continued on with his ideas on the feasibility of Sawo's plan.

\"We need to keep up our merchant business until our men are released. No matter what we choose to do with our men, we will need far more starting capital than what we have right now. Wages, materials... not to mention that we would need some sort of permit to buy the exclusive liquid stones from King Corcopaca's manufactories. Do you believe we could get a permit like that? And do not suggest we could go without it. If we want to compete with the king's workers, we need to mitigate our disadvantages as much as possible.\"

\"So that rules out construction work, at least for now,\" Sawo grumbled. \"We cannot compete with their liquid stones, and that so-called king will never hand his secrets over to others, least of all us.\"

\"I believe we should simply stick with our merchant business. It has been nice and steady work, has it not? Maybe we could open an inn or a restaurant in a quiet place once we have amassed enough coin.\" Like he had done many times before, Tawo suggested a quiet life in shame, away from fortune and greatness. However, Sawo was far more ambitious than his cousin.

\"What about going into the craftsman business? Could we not hire a few of them and have them work for us like that king does?\"

With a glimmer in his eyes, Sawo thought back to the jewelry production line they had just witnessed on their visit to the manufactory. All the workers had been lined up along tables, everyone with a different tool or implement before him, all of them working in unison like a massive automaton, all of it for a singular goal:

To produce countless copies of jewelry, to be sold for massive profit. Just how much pieces of jewelry were produced inside of that place every single day? How many worthless plates of copper did they exchange for valuable resources every day? And how many valuables did their finished products gain them every day?

\"Craftsmen? Can we work any trades? Can our former people?\" Tawo asked the usual questions. On any other day, they would deflate Sawo and put a stop to his fantasies. This time however, he would not be deterred.

\"Of course they cannot work trades. You know that.\"

In defiance of Sawo's confident attitude, Tawo furrowed his brow.

\"I will tell you right away: While I know a few local craftsmen, none of them have any reason to work for us. They would much rather keep their own workshops open and work for themselves. The only one they even consider signing a contract with is the King of the South. And they only do so because of how well his manufactories are run. Not only is it difficult for single workshops to compete with the manufactories, they are also paid massive wages there, more than they could earn on their own.\"

\"In that case, why should we not open our own?\" At last, Sawo revealed the plan he had stumbled upon in his constant search for a better life.

\"Our own manufactory?\" Tawo looked at his cousin in confusion. \"How would we even begin to do that? Let us assume we managed to collect enough money, thus ignoring the most obvious hurdle to your plan. We would still have no artisans, no property large enough to build a hall like that, and no machinery.\"

For a while, there was a lull in the conversation since they had reached the edge of the island. They nodded towards the guards on both sides on the bridge, before they crossed over to Rapra Island without much fuss. After all, many people were crossing in and out of the castle every day, so even for commoners, it was hardly the taboo zone it used to be under Sawo's rule. In fact, since their faces were known around town, they were let through without a word.

For citizens of Saniya it was that simple, even for despised ones. Of course they wouldn't be let into the castle proper, but their goal would be somewhere along the castle walls, they presumed. Once they had left the gaurds far enough behind to restore a semblance of privacy, Sawo reopened their discussion.

\"Getting artisans would be simple, I assume. All we need to do is wait. I hear that most of the king's workers inside those manufactories have exclusive contracts and can only work for the king, but those contracts are timed for five years. In fact, many of them have already run for one and a half years.\"

\"So you want to hire them as soon as they are freed from their earlier obligations,\" Tawo realized.

\"Even sooner if I can. I would rather offer them a second contract that becomes active as soon as their old one expires. We need to be fast before the king or someone else gets the chance to hire them. I am confident that we will find many interested parties. After all, by then the city will be flooded with workers in search of work. Imagine that: All at once, our old followers will be released from their labor camps. At the same time, the local and foreign craftsmen will be released from their contracts and all the young apprentices within the city will come of age and look for work independent of their masters. By then, finding proper workers for our own manufactories will be as simple as finding copper in Kapra. We will only need to pick them off the streets. And you could even make use of your connections and get your acquainted craftsmen on board. That way, we have some more experienced masters to lead the younger ones. As for us: we have ample experience with the organization of large groups, be they administrators or soldiers. That is something no commoner in the city can match us on. On the other hand, our craftsmen will know how to actually make things. It is a perfect plan. Even if we are merchants, who would look down on the masters of dozens of craftsmen? Not to mention the coin we will be making.\"

Tawo remained silent for a moment, but the former city lord could tell from his cousin's expression that he was tempted by the idea.

\"While your plans are good, compared to a construction company, we would need even more starting capital for a manufactory,\" Tawo concluded in the end. \"We would need a massive piece of land somewhere in the city, and the wages would be quite high as well. Not to mention the tools and machinery we may need. Would the king's manufactories and foundries sell us tools to compete with them?\"

\"We can consider those minor problems once we encounter them. For such issues, there are always solutions, legal or otherwise. For now, we still have about three years of time left before our plans can become reality. Our first step should be to get rid of these damn copper plates and make some real money instead.\" He bounced from one foot to another to readjust the sliding plates in his arms.

\"Are you sure you need no help, brother?\"

Rather than answer his cousin's concern, Sawo used his head to point towards a table that was set up beneath a temporary roof of cloth in front of Rapra Castle's outer gate. Rather, he was pointing towards the portly young foreigner who sat behind the table and the large scale next to him.

\"Maybe that would be the place to solve our money problems? I see no other spot of interest here.\"

\"If this was an official coin exchange from the kingdom, why would there be so few people around?\"

Apart from a handful of merchants who lingered around the edges of the island and a few guards before the castle gate, the empty space in front of Rapra Castle was free of people.

\"Asking seems to be a wiser choice than endless puzzlement,\" Sawo said and moved towards the stall. Maybe the stall's owner would put the heavy copper out of his hands and maybe he wouldn't, but Sawo would certainly not stand around here until his arms fell off.

\"Hello there, good man,\" he said to the chubby foreigner garbed in Medala cloth behind the table. \"We were told that the city castle is trading in copper for more stable currency. Is this the place to do so?\"

\"Ah yes, friend. You have found the right spot! And what a spot it is!\" Far more enthusiastic than he had any right to be, the strange foreigner jumped up and reached over the counter for a greeting. Since Sawo had his hands full, he shook Tawo's hand instead.

\"Did you come a long way?\" the official asked as he marched around the table and pointed at Sawo's copper burden. \"Please let me take these off you.\"

Once the official had taken the copper from Sawo, he motioned towards the chairs in front of the table with his chin.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

240 Paper, Also Worthless

\"Have a seat, please.\"

Swept up in the foreigner's pace, Sawo and Tawo sat down while their host took the copper sheets back to his own spot at the table.

\"These new ones are heavy, aren't they? The copper prices have really become ridiculous.\" As he placed the copper plates on a large scale atop the table, the official grunted from the exertion.

\"You are in luck,\" he continued while he sat down. \"We only set up our exchange a short while ago, so there is still plenty of stock left. You will be one of the first who get to enjoy Medala's newest kind of currency. No, to be exact, it may be the world's newest kind of currency. You know, this is something I have been looking forward to ever since our first design meeting several months ago.\"

While the excited official was chatting away, he began to weigh Sawo and Tawo's copper against various weights and applied a touchstone to each to verify their authenticity. All this time, the two cousins hadn't gotten so much as a single word in. If he hadn't carried the king's official sigil on his chest, Sawo would have assumed that their opposite was a trickster, out to scam them of their wealth. Whether or not copper represented any real wealth at this point was a different question entirely.

However, despite his suspicious behavior, he was properly accredited and operated right in front of the castle, under the eyes of the guards. Thus, Sawo only sat there in bafflement and waited until the official had noted down the amount of copper they had brought with them.

\"Right, that would be a total of one hundred and five Sila. Quite a bit,\" the official concluded.

\"That is correct.\"

Since the number was equivalent to the pay they had received at the manufactory, neither of the cousins raised complaints. At least not until a short stack of blue paper landed on the table before them.

\"There you are, one hundred and five Sila, to the dot.\" The official presented the paper with a big grin and a flourish of his hand, as if he had just done them a huge favor.

\"What is this?\" Sawo asked for the second time in a day, and picked one piece of paper from the pile.

\"That is your payment, master, and the new currency of the entire south. A freshly minted ten Sila certificate.\"

Confused, Sawo looked back and forth between the official's encouraging grin and the 'certificate' in his hand.

\"This is a piece of paper,\" he corrected the foreigner in disbelief. After an entire day of walking around and arguing with various people, he was far too tired both mentally and physically to get angry with yet another money man. For now, he would give the foreigner the benefit of the doubt and assume that it had been a miscommunication, despite the official's solid grasp of Yakua.

\"Just because it has the number ten written on its face does not mean that it can replace copper worth ten Sila, no matter how worthless copper has become,\" Sawo tied to explain.

\"Ah, I can see you are a skeptic, so please let me convince you.\" The official rubbed his hands together, as if he was eager for a debate.

\"First off, allow me to introduce myself: My name is Brymstock di Pluritac, I am an official of the crown in charge of the southern kingdom's new banking division within the finance department. Though you may call me Brym, and consider me just another trader like yourself. I have been one for most of my life after all. May I know your names as well, good sirs?\"

\"Sawo.\"

While Sawo was curt, his cousin was a lo more open to the stranger's introduction.

\"Hello, Official Brym. My name is Tawo and this is my cousin Sawo. We are ordinary merchants of Saniya, and we have been very concerned about recent copper prices. It has made our work quite difficult.\"

\"As expected. It's a shame, but that is the case for almost everyone in the city right now.\" Brym shook his head and put on a sad face. \"The crown has tried its best to reduce the amount of copper mining from both Cashan and Kapra, but both sides are insistent on their rights. It has made King Corcopaca aware just how fragile the wealth of his people is. At this moment, all the copper that the farmers, merchants, and craftsmen have amassed over generations of hard work has turned into nothing, simply because two rival estates decided to show off. And this time, it was only an unfortunate row of circumstances. What happens if someone were to be malicious in his approach instead? There are giant silver mines around Arguna, so the northerners could very well do the same to our silver and there would be nothing we could do about it.\"

Confronted with an uncomfortable truth, Sawo realized just how dangerous the reduced copper prices really were for the people. If nothing was done, there was a chance they would lose everything, together with everyone else within the southern kingdom.

\"I can tell that you are a smart man,\" the official continued. \"And you have already understood the dangerous implications of this issue. Since Saniya does not produce its own precious metals, it will always be dependent on outside sources, and thus it will always vulnerable. In response, King Corcopaca, in his wisdom, has devised a solution in the form of these certificates.\"

Brym also held up one of the pieces of paper to mirror Sawo.

\"These certificate notes are, of course, not equivalent to ten silver coins, but they do represent them. See, if you read the wording on the ten Sila note itself, it notes that this document is considered to carry a value equivalent to precious metals worth ten Sila. It also bears the royal seal and the king's signature. As a result, its effects are legally binding anywhere within the king's estates. These notes can be be exchanged for their value in copper, silver or gold with any government organization. Thus, unless all three precious metals lose all their value at the same time, they guarantee a stable economy, since the people can exchange them freely with the crown.\"

\"Unless your people decide they would rather not,\" a bitter Sawo said, reminded of the manufactory foreman's unhelpful attitude.

\"Oh no, that is not an option,\" Brym replied. \"King Corcopaca signed these rules into law three days ago, maybe you did not see the announcement yet.\"

\"We were out of town for work,\" Tawo confirmed.

\"As I thought. You can look the law up yourselves, notices are still hung up in every market within the city. For now, you simply need to know that every government organization that handles money is legally obligated to replace these notes with their equivalent in precious metals. There are a lot of those organizations inside Saniya. In fact, in practice it is entirely possible to skip the exchange of precious metals and directly trade these certificates for other goods and services. I'm sure our many government workers will thank you if they no longer have to handle kilos of copper every day. By now, most people in the city work for the crown in one way or another, so using the notes is very simple and will save a lot of time and effort.\"

\"They are quite light, much more practical than the large copper sheets.\" Tawo agreed once again, but his cousin was still skeptical.

\"Even so, they are only legal within Saniya, correct?\"

\"Within the Chawir marches, and around Qarasi Castle in the Narrows,\" Brym corrected with a raised finger. \"Considering Saniya's growing influence on the southern kingdom and King Corcopaca's excellent reputation among the southern lords, we have no doubt that these notes will soon spread across the entire kingdom and become a legal form of tender everywhere.\"

\"And what happens if something changes again, or if some of the southern lords fail to play along?\" Sawo asked again. \"We are already seeing problems with the copper supply, and the kingdom will go through repeated crises in the future. You yourself admitted that Saniya's prosperity depends on the goodwill of other lords within the empire. Even more: What if a new king comes to power after a while? Will he still accept these notes? Will he uphold the old rules at all?\"

\"If they are wide-spread enough by that time, a new ruler will have to accept their legality or risk a riot. People don't enjoy being robbed after all,\" Brym explained, as patient as before. \"So I don't consider this a sound argument against the use of the certificates, with respect. Though I will add that the kingdom is already taking steps to become less susceptible to any unforeseen crises in the future. In fact, the introduction of these notes is already a strong step in this direction, wouldn't you agree? If the kingdom were to suffer from disaster, everyone would suffer with it anyways. That includes its merchants, of course. Once there is a famine, for example, you will not be able to buy any food whether you pay in copper or certificate notes.\"

At least in that regard, Sawo had to agree. While other merchants would have the choice to simply move to another kingdom if the south were to collapse, neither him nor his cousin had that luxury. As former warriors and eventual traitors of House Ichilia, they wouldn't survive a single season up north, that much Sawo knew. Still, he wasn't quite convinced by the flimsy bit of paper between his hands. He wouldn't be fooled out of his copper just like this, no matter how worthless it was at the moment.

\"What if someone simply copies these notes and makes his own, with the same look? The entire system would fall apart at that point, would it not?\"

\"Impossible,\" Brym replied, strong pride visible in his face and posture. It was the first time Sawo detected anything resembling true emotion from the friendly face. \"The bank notes are printed on sturdy cotton, with a pressing method that is proprietary to the crown and not known to people outside the newly-founded royal mint. They also bear the king's sigil and signature. On top of that, the notes have been colored in a shade of blue that is a new development of Saniya's royal chemistry laboratories. No one else knows how to recreate this new, royal blue, so spotting any fakes will be easy even to the untrained eye. Of course, it is unnecessary to mention that any would-be cheat's actions are illegal and will be aggressively pursued. So, these notes can't be easily forged, and anyone who tries risks the death penalty.\"

\"That is good to hear.\" Tawo stayed polite while Sawo thought for a while. Although he didn't like Saniya's new ruler, so far he had kept his word on everything he had promised. There was little reason to assume he would ruin his reputation for some worthless copper, so if they could replace their heavy copper for some paper of the same value, it was worth the trade. Even better: If copper were to lose even more in value, his notes would still be worth the same as before, as they were denoted in Sila,. Not in kilograms of copper. In the end, even the stubborn Sawo decided to agree to the trade.

After a few more pleasantries had been exchanged, Tawo and Sawo took their new certificate notes to leave the government stall. Even now, no line had formed behind them and the merchants who had lingered around the stall earlier had only moved in a bit closer to listen in on their conversation. It didn't appear as if the crown's money exchange sparked much confidence from the locals yet.

\"Please come back if you ever have any questions or troubles in regards to the certificates. Just ask the guards for Brym and I shall appear in a puff of smoke.\" The official had stood up again and shook both of their hands with the same enthusiasm as before, despite his lengthy explanations.

\"What a nice guy,\" Tawo said as they left the stall behind. However, while Tawo was still focused on the past, his cousin already had his mind set on the future. His mind full of ideas, he turned one of the blue notes in his hands.

\"That looks like good business as well. What do you think?\"

\"What looks like good business?\" a baffled Tawo asked back.

\"What this guy is doing. Exchanging precious metals for worthless paper,\" Sawo explained as he weighed his new wealth in his left.

\"Official Brym said it was cotton, I believe.\"

\"Worthless cotton then.\" Sawo shrugged. \"I doubt we need to continue our work as merchants. At least not as traders. I think we just found something much better to do. More worthwhile, less risky and more respected. Say, brother, do you have any friends in the city's foundry?\"

\"I do, but what would we need the foundry for?\"

Somehow, a feeling of warmth and confidence spread from within Sawo, something he had not felt since he had lost his warriors in the battle for Saniya against the current king. He savored the moment, and then spoke the words that would transform his life once more.

\"I believe it is a good time for us to enter into the money lending business.\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

241 New Business

Autumn had always been the best time for merchants. In autumn, the farmers had their biggest harvest season. As a result, the villagers would stream into the cities and flood the markets with their sudden, new wealth, spreading it to the local population, who in turn would also look for ways to waste tjheir income. This was true everywhere in Medala, but it was even more true in Saniya. With the fertilizers and the growth of their fields, the farmers of the Chawir marches were richer than ever, and Saniya offered them ample opportunity to part with their coin in exchange for the many novel goods the city had developed over two years.

Thus, merchants from all over the kingdom had flocked into the city, in search of their own big deals. Although the copper crisis was still ongoing, it hadn't changed people's enthusiasm for purchase. Ever since the introduction of the certificate notes, people had quickly warmed to them, which had reduced the impact the cheap copper had on everyone's lives. As a result, the economy had stabilized and the money market had flourished. As such, this was a hot business season for Sawo and Tawo more than it was for most.

\"Good man, do you wish to unload your burden?\" Sawo called out to a group on the busy street. The man who walked in the group's front position wore simple clothes, but they appeared clean and new, and were made from enough cloth to throw folds. From his way of dress, he would either be a poor merchant or a rich farmer, but at this time of year there was little difference between either.

Both groups had more money than they could spend, and it showed in the heavy sheets of copper all people in the group had strapped to their backs. At this point, the copper in the south was so cheap that even normal people would carry it around in the open without worry. What pickpocket would steal a copper sheet the size of a man's torso and resell it for only a days' worth of food?

\"Are you offering porter services?\" the group's elderly leader asked back from across the street as he led his people towards Sawo.

*They are traders then.*

Sawo drew a conclusion on their identities since they seemed familiar with recent procedures inside the city. Ever since the start of the copper crisis, clever day laborers in Saniya had begun to offer porter services. For a small fee, they would carry the worthless copper for others, everywhere they went. Some of the richer families even had their dedicated porters who would follow them all day, their bodies covered in gleaming sheets like a warrior's armor.

While this would be common knowledge to anyone who had visited Saniya at any point throughout the year, villagers would only travel to the city once a year during harvest season. Thus, they would not be informed about these changes.

\"I offer something even better.\" Sawo grinned, and held up a stack of Sila notes. As soon as he knew that he was dealing with merchants, everything became a whole lot easier. Just as the former city lord predicted, the old man's eyes lit up as soon as he saw the money. However, he restrained himself right away and pretended indifference.

*Good. He is a good merchant. That just means he has more copper to trade.*

\"We were just on our way to the castle to exchange our copper for some blue notes,\" the old man replied in a cautious tone. Although he implied that they were not interested in Sawo's certificates, the entire group had stopped and waited for his sales pitch.

\"Then why not just exchange them here?\" Sawo asked. \"That way, there is no need to labor your copper sheets all the way through the city and onto Rapra Island. You will save coin on porters and it is safer as well.\"

\"Excuse me, but who are you?\" the leader asked. Still vigilant, he glanced around, maybe in search of nearby guards or Sawo's criminal accomplices. However, the former city lord was undeterred and put on his best merchant's mask.

\"Greeting, fellow trader. My name is Sawo, former warrior and now owner of the Sata bank of Saniya.\" He pointed at the elaborate wooden sign behind him. With its flourished writing and the inlaid copper letters, it was something no ordinary merchant would ever dare show off in public. While his guests were still stricken by the sign, Sawo pressed on.

\"We can exchange your copper for notes just the same as the people in the castle will, but at a much better rate. At the same time, as former warriors we can guarantee the absolute safety of your deposited metals. On top of that, we also offer loans to anyone who wishes to make something of themselves, in service of Saniya's community. And of course, if you deposit your money with us instead of the castle, you will get a return on your investment for every single month we hold your precious metals for. Those are profits for free, so why not take us up on the chance?\"

\"Oh? How much?\" As soon as he heard 'profits for free', the old merchant looked much more open. \"One part in twenty.\"

\"So if I leave twenty Sila worth of copper with you, next month I can take twenty-one Sila back from here?\"

\"That is correct. We are so generous, you may as well consider it a public service at this point! Even if you are not quite convinced by our offer yet, at least you could take a short break in our shop, and I can send for a porter to carry your copper sheets. If you still want to trade with the castle by the time the porter shows up, I will not complain when you leave.\"

For a while, the group's leader gave Sawo a critical look again. All this time, the old merchant's eyes had bounced around between narrowed suspicion and glittering greed, but one of Saniya's first bank owners wasn't worried. As a former noble, he had a far better sense of dress than most people, so the customers would always be impressed by his sophistication, even before they spoke their first words.

Further, the former city lord was also well-nourished, sturdy and had a posture a man could only achieve if he had never bent his knee. Those lowly commoners had never seen anything like it, and his unique aura had served him well during negotiations. In the half year since the cousins had begun operations as coin exchangers and money lenders, they had found more success than they would have ever managed as traveling merchants.

Indeed, after only a short wait, greed won out. The group's leader turned to his followers who were already gasping under the weight of their wealth, before he readjusted his own weights with a shrug of his shoulder.

\"In that case, we may impose on you, master.\"

After a light bow, Sawo stepped to the side and gestured towards his business entrance. As soon as the merchants went inside, Sawo followed, a sly smile on his face. This was how him and his cousin had made much of their business over the past three months. They had set up their shop in their old house, near the southern entrance of the outer city walls.

While many of the wealthier traders would come by boat and dock right on NAME Island to have their copper replaced with certificate notes on Rapra, the smaller fish would swim through here. As they passed by, Sawo could provide those burdened with wealth convenience and ease them of their property.

Their entire strategy was built around comfort and luxury, and it worked this time just as well as it had before. As soon as the merchants had taken a seat on the benches inside, they seemed much more open and comfortable right away.

\"These are some very nice seats,\" the elder merchant stated while he stroked the furniture

\"Thank you very much,\" Sawo replied. \"They are acacia wood benches created by a local master of woodworking. Although these days, most workers are employed in the king's manufactories to mass-produce cheap goods, a few great masters of high repute still remain to work their craft if one knows which alleys to search.\"

\"Quite impressive,\" the merchant said, while his eyes continued to scan around the interior decorations. As former nobles, both Sawo and Tawo had a sense of taste and fashion a lowly merchant could never hope to match. Although the costs for the furniture, carpets and artwork had been quite high, it had proven to be worth every Silo. More than one commoner had been convinced to leave them their money based on their luxurious reception area alone.

\"So if we exchange our copper with you, how would that work?\"

\"It is, in fact, a very simple process,\" Sawo began to explain. \"You hand me your copper, and you get the equivalent value in redeemable notes from our bank.\"

To demonstrate, Sawo picked up a stack of the pretty new notes the Sata bank had printed for its customers. Without a care for their value, he dropped the stack on the counter, right in front of the customers. Since storing a few ten thousand Sila worth of paper behind the counter was easy and since the printer had offered them a cheaper price for mass production, they had printed an exorbitant amount to start with. At the current rate, they would never run out of certificates.

\"And on top of that, you also receive an additional Silo for every one hundred you leave with us.\" With those words, Sawo added another bank note on top of the earlier stack. \"Who would not take such an enticing offer? Is this not simply free money for you?\"

\"These are not Saniya's official notes,\" the merchant realized after he had picked up Sawo's light-yellow notes and inspected them in the light of the open door. Of course he was right. The best way for the Sata bank to trade shiny copper for dull paper like the greedy king had done was to print their own notes. Yet Sawo had neither the ignorance nor the ability to create illegal copies of the blue notes the crown was handing out. Thus, he had simply worked with a printer and made his own. While fake copies of the blue notes were illegal, his own certificate decidedly was not.

\"No, they are not the crown's notes,\" he admitted. \"However, they are in no way inferior to the official certificates of the king. After all, these are the exclusive notes of the Sata bank of commerce. Our name is well-known and highly respected throughout the entire city. So purchasing products within Saniya will be just as easy and just as convenient as it would be with blue notes. If you want to travel and use the notes outside the city walls, I am sure you will find many locals willing to exchange these for the king's notes at equal value. Though even the king's notes are not yet accepted beyond the Chawir marches, so in practice there is little difference between both.\"

\"True enough,\" the merchant mumbled and lowered hi head, lost in thought for a while. When he looked back up, his eyes had firmed up, and his jaw was clenched, as if he was about to take a great risk. \"Master Sawo, I have indeed heard your name, as most men of the south have. After all, the former lord of Saniya is hard to forget.\"

Sawo only smiled in response to the merchant's revelation. Although he didn't like to be reminded of his past identity, his former status proved valuable once again. While the former city lord wasn't the most popular man in the city, most people were creatures of habit. Decades of submission from the lower classes had instilled respect for Sawo's superior status into the commoners. His combat ability also helped him a great deal in this respect.

While some of the shops in the southern part of the city had been harassed by local gangs, no one had dared to touch the fat sheep that was their bank, even though it lay in the heart of the most dangerous part of the city. Since their strength was so well known and warriors were so feared among the commoner population, the merchants didn't even ask him about issues of security. Instead, they had different concerns. A younger trader within the group spoke up for the first time. At first his voice was small, but he gained confidence as he continued.

\"Master, not to be rude, but if you give us these notes in exchange for less copper than they are worth. And then you store all the copper for us and everyone else at your own cost. And you even pay us extra if we leave our copper with you. Where is your benefit in this business?\"

In response to the question, the group's leader looked satisfied and gave the young man a nod of encouragement. Sawo was convinced that the old man would have asked the same question eventually. After all, these old merchants had gone through many winters and knew what questions to ask to distinguish good deals from scams. Even so, Sawo wasn't worried, since the question was one he had already answered many times over the past months.

\"As I have mentioned before, we are not only a coin exchange. We also operate a money lending business.\"

\"So you use our money to lend to others, and then in return they give you even more money later,\" the young man summarized. \"Why would we let you get rich with our money? Why would we not simply do the same ourselves?\"

Although Sawo was starting to get annoyed by the rude youngster, he did his best to keep his calm. After a deep breath, he responded in a dry tone.

\"You are free to try if you are dissatisfied with our offer. However, there are only so many hours in a day, and one needs to choose what one wishes to do with them. In the end, our business is money lending, while merchant work is yours. If you believe you could make better coin as a bank than you could as a merchant, you are free to do so. In that case, keep your copper sheets and switch to the money lending business yourself.\"

\"Not to worry, we believe you are far better equipped for this line of work than we are,\" the old man mediated before matters got too heated. \"However, what if you lose our money as you conduct your business? If you lend money and the recipients fail to return it, what do we do then? Would our money not be gone in that case? We will not leave our copper with you unless you can offer us additional security.\"

\"Well, we have our methods to make sure clients pay up. No more needs to be said on the issue,\" Sawo replied as he stood up straight to show off his height. Once again, he reminded his customers of his former warrior status.

\"Unless they cannot. Sometimes the money is just gone,\" the old man fought back. At this point, Sawo was sure that the merchant was already convinced by the offer and only tried to fish for more benefits. However, Sawo would not budge unless it was necessary.

\"Even in case of a bankruptcy from our customers, we still have enough metal hoarded here to guarantee you your money.\"

\"That is easy to say, yet hard to prove.\"

Sawo stared at the stubborn merchant, before he sighed and pretended to give up. Things ended up like this almost every time he talked to merchants, but he still had his final trump card left.

\"Normally, I am not supposed to show this to you, but I will make an exception because of your astute mind and patient manner. Please follow me.\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

242 Government Interference

Although he seemed to be a bit suspicious of Sawo's plans, the old man stood up and motioned his followers to remain behind as he followed the former city lord. Unconcerned with their caution, Sawo led the old man behind the counter and into the back of their shop, towards a dark wooden door.

\"This is our storage facility for precious metals,\" he explained as he pulled out the heavy iron key. \"The door itself is made from heavy oak, as thick as a clenched fist is wide, and reinforced with high quality iron bands from Saniya's royal foundry. The lock was made by one of the city's new clock making masters, a genius feat of mechanics and impossible to either pick or destroy by would-be thieves.\"

Once the banker had opened the door, he let the merchant get a glimpse into the decently sized room. The old man said no word, no doubt overwhelmed by the sight. After all, the room's interior was entirely filled with the dim glitter of precious metals in the darkness.

\"Here is where we store all the property we have received from our customers. They are kept cool, dark and isolated to reduce discoloration on the metals. Copper is in the front, while the more precious metals are in the back.\"

Most of the room was taken up by the large sheets of copper every merchant had learned to dread over the past seasons. It was the fruit of their efforts over the past half a year. However, hidden away in the distant corners, one could spot an occasional shine of silver and even some gold. Of course, none of them were as impressive as they appeared at first glance.

The few silver coins inside the vault were the last bits they had left from their secret stashes. They were distributed in such a way that they would appear like a larger volume from a distance, hinting at piles were there were only pieces. At the same time, the 'gold' was nothing more than some brass they had bought from the foundry. In the dim light, it was impossible to distinguish from gold.

Although their goods weren't all the real deal, they had to get creative to convince their prospective patrons. Even more, due to their former status, it was easy for others to believe that they would possess gold and even some of the now rare royal silver. Most merchants had neither to offer, not even fakes.

\"As you can see, we possess ample funds, more than enough to handle one or two failures from our lending business. Are you satisfied?\"

The old man still remained silent. As if transfixed, he stared into the glimmer before him. Only after Sawo had closed the door and the fake wealth had disappeared did the merchant come back to his senses.

\"Can we talk about the details of our contract?\" he asked in a cracked voice, his mouth dried out from excitement.

In response, Sawo's smile became just a little bit brighter. As expected, his efforts had landed them another satisfied customer. At this speed, they would be able to open their own manufactories with ease, as soon as the king released their workers.

Once all the documents had been signed and the copper sheets had been weighed and exchanged for certificate notes, Sawo thanked his newest customers and led them out of his store. Once his patrons would leave, he would return to his position in front of the store to fish for some more easy money. The day was young and there was yet much money to extract from the plentiful tree of harvest season. However, as soon as the merchants had disappeared into the crowd, a light-skinned foreigner replaced them and walked towards him.

*Government worker,* Sawo identified right away. While many of these foreigners worked as craftsmen, none of them dressed like the man from the crowd. While many of the foreign craftsmen would wear the traditional clothes of their far-off homelands, the officials from the castle were required to wear something closer to Medalan dress. They wore pants like all their foreign brethren, but they also wore a short, dark-red robe above, which signified their warrior status. The man who came towards Sawo carried his robe in a flawless manner and had a posture as stiff as a broom. He already looked like trouble.

\"Good day, Sir. Would you be Sawo d'Ichilia, owner of the Sata coin exchange and money lending business?\" the king's man asked in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he already had all the answers.

\"I have not carried the name Ichilia in a long time, as I am no longer a servant of House Ichilia,\" Sawo answered, already annoyed. The warrior servants below the lords were always trouble, always eager to demonstrate or abuse their power in front of others. No one knew that better than him, so he preempted any attempts of belittlement through forward language of his own. \"I would prefer if you were not to use it.\"

\"That is fine, I can do that,\" the guest replied as if he hadn't heard the complaint in Sawo's voice. \"My name is Alyn, sir. Alyn di Pluritac. As you may guess from my name, I am a warrior servant by class and am sworn to King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac in the function of an official.\"

\"Ah, an official? What can this simple servant do for you?\" Although he didn't like the greedy king's government, his tone still changed to be more amiable. At least the servant had remained polite in the face of Sawo's provocation. Further, he could be boisterous towards prospective customers and dismissive of the commoners, but he had to tread with care when it came to servants of the crown. One wrong word towards a man of higher status and the king had an excuse to take off Sawo's head. He would rather not give him the opportunity. However, the new arrival ignored Sawo's servile tone just as he had ignored his light provocation from before.

\"I am with the city's finance department, as part of the newly established banking division. Is it correct that you have been operating a coin exchange and money lending business?\" he repeated his earlier question while he stared down onto a piece of paper.

\"Yes, that is correct. In fact, my business is right behind me.\" Although he was wary of the government worker's purpose here, Sawo could only tell the truth. After all, their fancy sign was right above his head and hard to overlook. Even if it wasn't, his trade and home were well-known in the city, and a clumsy lie would only create more trouble.

\"In that case, I have come here to inform you that your business will be considered illegal from tomorrow on. Private businesses have no right to exchange precious metals for certificate notes from then on. Nor do they have the right to indiscriminately lend money at self-designated conditions. Even less so do they have the right to print their own currency and treat it as interchangeable with the southern kingdom's certificate notes, colloquially known as 'blue notes'.\"

\"What did you say, little man!?\"

Again, the bastard king was trying to take away his future. Again, just as Sawo was about to climb back up from the bottom of the pile through his own efforts, the vengeful King of the South had swooped in to destroy it all in a moment. Enough was enough! Who did this little servant think he was? Only a year or two ago, Sawo would have destroyed someone like him with a single word. He could have killed the man with one swing of his axe and no one would have asked a single question. Yet now he was treated like some dirty commoner, to be pushed around as this foreigner pleased? He would not, he could not accept this. His head filled with nothing but red, Sawo stepped forward to teach the arrogant servant a lesson.

\"What do you intend to do, citizen?\" While the servant tried to produce a stern voice, he stumbled back and shook like a leaf.

\"Reinstate justice,\" Sawo growled as he took another step towards retribution.

However, just as he was about to reach the pale servant, Sawo noticed movement from the corner of his eyes.

*The coward brought guards.*

Two of the city's guards stood in the periphery with their weapons at the ready, waiting for Sawo to make a mistake large enough to justify his death. As the king's old foe, he was convinced there was nothing the king wished more than to see his head roll. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, neither the false king in the castle nor the little man before him.

\"Fine,\" he said and backed off half a step, but his voice was still firm, loud enough to boom across the street and be heard by the people. Already, the commotion had attracted a small crowd. \"Is this your king's great plan to enslave us all? All the craftsmen already work for him in his manufactories. All the farmers already work for him as well, and of course, all the warriors are his. Does he want to take full control of the lives of merchants as well? What will we do if we cannot lend anymore money? If we cannot exchange our worthless copper? Even more so now that the south goes through such a crisis, through such a struggle for the common people. If we cannot trade the copper anymore, just to still the king's greed, are we to starve to death? Do you understand the reality out here on the streets, as you sit in your fancy castle all day and think of more things to take from us? Do you understand how much we suffer?\"

In response to the passionate speech, dim murmurs began to spread throughout the crowd. Sawo could feel the silent assent of the people around him, and so could the little servant. Although he still looked pale, he tried to straighten his short spine and defended his position.

\"King Corco has no intention to make private money lending illegal. Neither will the crown forbid the copper exchange that was of its own design, specifically created to deal with the current crisis. All we want is regulation, to make sure the private interests of the money lenders and coin exchanges do not cause harm to the people of the kingdom, those Sir Sawo seems to care so much about.\"

\"Hah, no intention to make us illegal, yet you close our business from one day to another?\" Sawo shouted in derision, more towards the crowd than towards the little man.

\"If you comply with the new regulations, your shop will remain open same as before. At noon tomorrow, there will be a meeting inside the castle, where the country's future stance on banking and finance will be explained. The meeting is open to all money lenders and coin exchangers of Saniya, so you are encouraged to attend as well.\"

The cowardly servant spoke quickly to fulfill his duties, before he handed Sawo a piece of paper and excused himself from the scene. As the guards helped the little man push through the masses in the street, Sawo looked at the official document he had been handed.

Written on the paper were the time and place of the 'discussion on the future of banking' as the document called it. Sawo had no doubt that it would be another attempt from the greedy king to control everything and everyone he laid his eyes upon. Before the banker realized, the fancy paper had turned into a worthless ball inside his clenched fist. Never again would he allow the king to play with them however he liked. Not this time. Sawo would attend the meeting, but only to fight for his freedom, and for his future.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

243 Fight For Power

Although the meeting hadn't even started yet, tensions within the large room were already running high as the tide. A constant hum from the merchants around him told Sawo that they were feeling the same way he did. Their visible dissatisfaction mirrored the passers-by on the street the previous day. At this point, the copper crisis had been brewing for quite a while already, and it had bred much discontent. Maybe now was the time to stand up and show this king that not everything would go according to his wishes.

Convinced of his plans, Sawo turned to the man who sat next to him, a competitor in the money lending business he had met on Saniya's streets once or twice before. Although he intended to start a conversation, the other man saw Sawo's eye contact as an invitation and began to oppose the king all on his own.

\"This is ridiculous,\" he hissed under his breath, always one eye on the guards in the corners of the room.

\"I agree,\" the former city lord said. \"One by one, every class will be swallowed by the king. The way things are going, soon all of us will be his personal slaves.\"

\"At least our previous city lord left the merchants to their own devices. Yes, he raised taxes for the commoners, but apart from that he did not bother with lowly folk. I was sure that all lords would be like that: Too absorbed in their high politics to take note of us small people. I have never seen someone as greedy for power and control as this king.\"

All of a sudden, his competitor seemed a lot more likable to Sawo.

\"I agree. Maybe we should band together and oppose this injustice. We should not take that kind of abuse from this king. What do you say, my fellow?\"

Somehow, Sawo once more found pride deep within him, something he thought long lost. However, while many merchants in the seats around them had halted their own conversations to listen to Sawo's brave words, none of them spoke up in support. Even Sawo's competitor deflated as soon as the former lord spoke of resistance.

\"Yet we are only humble merchants. What can we do about the will of the high nobles? What sort of power do we have to make demands, or to stop our king from any selfish actions? In the end, he is the master of the castle, and thus the city.\"

\"We could simply move,\" Sawo suggested. \"Or at least we could threaten to. No matter how much the king wants to change the laws, he cannot change the basic rules of society. Merchants will always have the right to move around as they please. That will not change, not even in Saniya. In the current crisis, how much worse would the people be off without our help? What if we all band together, and as one threaten to leave this place to its own devices? Why not watch the city drown in copper once we have moved on to greener pastures? Maybe the king would respect us then.\"

Before even a single word of reply, Sawo could tell from the other merchant's brightened face that he was on board with his plan to pressure the king as a collective. Yet just as the man was about to answer, just before the merchants of Saniya could organize, the door in the front of the room opened. The new arrivals silenced the entire room through their sheer presence.

In front of the newcomers walked the same young foreigner who had first exchanged Sawo's copper for certificates one season earlier. Although he remembered him as polite and helpful, to Sawo he still was the enemy. That was even more the case since he was accompanied by not only more officials of the castle, but also by a further half a dozen armed guards. While the people in the room held little love or respect for the king's lackeys, the shiny weapons of the guards were what had forced them into silence. Sawo himself decided to remain calm for now and wait for his chance to strike.

\"Money lenders and coin exchangers of Saniya, I welcome you all to Rapra Castle. My name is Brymstock di Pluritac. I am a warrior servant and advisor under the King of the South, Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, and have been tasked to oversee the money exchange and banking business within the city. My first mission was to solve the rampant copper crisis within the kingdom, an issue I hope you can help me further alleviate today.\"

Although his introduction seemed polite and his attitude both heartfelt and competent, no one in the room greeted the young official back, despite his status. Sawo himself sneered at the thought of the hole the king had dug himself into this time. While the merchants wouldn't speak out in the face of armed guards, no man would be happy if his livelihood was threatened. Sawo for one was looking forward to the outburst of public anger the king's tyrannical acts would soon cause. Maybe he could give the others a little push of courage if he timed it right. However, the official still seemed intent to appease the crowd.

\"First of all, I want to apologize, to you, in the name of the crown, for the way in which you have been called here.\" With a bow, the noble shocked the commoners in the crowd. Even Sawo was confused. When had a noble ever bowed to a commoner?

\"There has been some horrible miscommunication,\" Brym continued. \"The officials who called all of you here had very specific tasks. Since this meeting is so important for the future of the entire city and especially your industry, they were supposed to make sure all money lenders and coin exchangers of Saniya attended. Some of our servants chose a radical and problematic method, even going so far as to imply threats to your businesses. For that, I deeply apologize. The servants in question have been punished and all of you will be compensated for your lost time today.\"

Indeed, when Sawo scanned past the other officials in the room, he could not find the rude man from the previous day.

\"How much do we get?\" another merchant asked before Sawo could refocus his thoughts on disruptions.

\"That would have been my first question as well.\" Somehow, Brymstock's shallow joke made some of the merchants in the back rows chuckle. \"Your exact compensation will depend on the size of your business, but you will generally be compensated between ten and twenty Sila for your trouble today.\"

As soon as the words were spoken, no one had a problem with the meeting anymore. The atmosphere eased as if no one had ever been upset in the first place. Since such a sum was more than most of them would earn in five days, let alone in a single afternoon, it was no wonder the merchants were happy. However, their complacency frustrated Sawo. If things continued like this, the false king would win again. Thus, the former lord took it upon himself to charge ahead and offer some opposition to the powerful king.

\"Yet even if the crown bribes us, the king still intends to shut down our businesses, is that not correct? Did you imply that your servant's words from yesterday were lies?\"

He was happy to hear the grumbles start up again, but Brymstock still retained his calm smile.

\"To reiterate, we do not plan to shut down anyone's business. As far as the crown is concerned, there cannot be enough businesses within Saniya. You have been called here because we feel there is a need to agree on certain ground rules for financial business ventures. This way, we can make sure everyone in society benefits from your work and no one is unduly harmed.\"

\"Isn't that just an excuse to punish us?\"

Despite Sawo's repeated interruptions, Brymstock still seemed unfazed.

\"The point of these changes is to guarantee the prosperity of everyone here as well. If many people leave their money with you and you go out of business due to careless practices, that is bad for everyone, including yourself. If, as a result of your actions, you harm Saniya's economy, you will also suffer. This is a responsibility you should be made aware of, but it is also a responsibility the government is willing to shoulder with you together. We are not enemies. I am only here to guarantee a sound, healthy financial market that will benefit everyone. I'm sure you would prefer stable profits over chaos as well.\"

\"If I may ask, Official Brymstock: What exactly is the king asking of us?\" another merchant asked.

\"Thank you, that is an excellent question. Right to the heart of the matter.\" His smile became just a bit brighter as he pointed at the man who had asked the right question. \"At this point, the entire financial markets of the southern kingdom are unregulated, which is what brought us into this current mess, where copper isn't even worth as much as a stone on the street. To combat the problem, we introduced the new bank notes. However, there has been a lack of regulation, because we did not expect the banking industry to explode in the way it did. First of all, we need to address the ones among you who have begun to print your own paper currencies.\"

\"Are you saying we cannot do that? The crown does the same!\" Sawo was about to jump out of his seat, but the subtle movements from the guards held him back.

\"Yes, and minting coin is an ancient privilege of the crown,\" Brym replied. \"That does not change simply because the coin is now made of cotton. The problem with the introduction of your own currency is that so many different types of money will confuse people. Then at some point, some of you will go out of business, which happens all the time, and then your notes will be worthless. Do you believe that people will still trust in paper currency after that happens a few times? I'm sure you all understand how important the smooth distribution of this new paper money will be for the kingdom, so we cannot risk a step back at a crucial time.\"

\"So in the end, you are still here to take our business away.\"

\"If you have printed your own money, the crown is more than willing to print you special notes that let people redeem precious metals with you rather than with the crown. They will be distributed after this meeting, so long as you agree to the terms the crown gives you in other areas. Does anyone still have a problem with that?\"

As Brym looked around, Sawo did the same. Neither saw any opposition.

\"Right, let's move on then. We have observed the way the money lenders among you have operated your businesses, and we are concerned by some actions from a few individuals. According to our estimates, some who have stored precious metals for others within their own vaults have used all of the metal, or almost all of it, to lend it to others around the city for profit. While there is no problem with turning a profit, it should be done in a responsible manner, even more so since you are not loaning your own money. What happens if those loan aren't paid back? What happens if the owners of the metals come back all of a sudden and you can't return their property because it's still loaned out?\"

While Sawo could understand the official's concerns, this wasn't much of a problem for the typical money lenders. Almost all of them had some form of hired muscle to guarantee they were able to force lenders into payments if they were ever late. That same muscle would prevent their customers from pressing too hard if they wanted their coin back without warning. Most customers would rather wait a day or two than face off against a money lender's troop of hired gangsters. Of course, Sawo couldn't admit any of this, since their actions were strictly speaking illegal. Still, these customs existed for a reason, so he could at least hint at their troubles.

\"We cannot possibly be asked to keep all the metal in storage in case anyone wants his copper back, can we? In that case, we would simply become a storage facility for coin, rather than a money lewnder. There is no benefit to us. How would we earn our money?\"

\"Right! That is how a money lender works after all. We take the money others deposit with us, and we lend it back out for a profit! If we cannot lend out the money, should we ask for fees for deposits instead? Who would still leave their copper with us? How would we run our businesses?\"

At last, another merchant had found his voice and supported Sawo from behind. As soon as they felt their fountain of wealth threatened, the merchants in the room began to murmur again, even louder than before. No wonder, since people were quick to change their tunes when it came to money. Although the official had placated the merchants before, their resentment at the king's meddling had bubbled just below the surface. At last, the king's greed had forced it to break through. Still, the official remained firm.

\"I'm well aware how a bank operates. However, I will not ask you to stop lending money. All I ask of you is to be reasonable. Just don't lend out everything you have stored in your vaults. You should be able to understand why that is a problem. If one of your customers comes back to you and they want their metals back, what do you do if you have loaned out everything? Well, if they insist, you can't do anything but threaten violence. In that case, the customer loses trust not only in your business, but in the entire financial system. I'm sure no one in this room would want to see that, least of all me.\"

Once again, Official Brymstock tried a conciliatory tone. While he managed to quiet down the merchants for the moment, the men in the crowd still looked at him with suspicion in their eyes. Even so, the official didn't show any signs of discomfort as he continued in a calm voice.

\"Although I risk repeating myself, what the banking division wants least is to kill off your industries. Neither do we want to prohibit all money lending from your side. Rather, we simply want you to be responsible in your operations. For every Silo you loan out, we want you to retain a certain amount of metals in your vaults, just to make sure you will always be able to fulfill your commitments to your customers. That way, your business will also be safe in the case of an emergency, like multiple, sudden defaults on your loans. For now, we want you to limit yourselves to a three times leverage. That means you would be required to retain back at least one Silo for every three Sila you loan out.\"

The official looked around in the silent room.

\"I don't think that's especially harsh, nor do I think that a safety measures like that will prevent you from making money,\" he continued. \"In addition, you should come to Saniya's local law enforcement if someone is unwilling to pay, or if you have any trouble with your customers. The city's new police force is about to be rolled out in the next few days, so public safety will be much better from then on. Since you can save on private protection this way, you will even save some money, and there is less chance the local gangs will turn on you in case you do too well.\"

\"No matter how Official Brym dresses up his words, the crown's new laws limit the amount of money we can make. Worse yet, this is only the first step and your rules are already this harsh. Who guarantees that you will not impose even tighter laws on us once we have gotten used to these?\" Again, Sawo had to speak out himself, the only one with enough courage to oppose the king.

\"We need a series of rules and regulations so a few overly greedy merchants don't make business impossible for the rest of us,\" Brym insisted. \"In the future, you will be responsible, at least in part, for the money circulation within the kingdom. With such a pivotal position in society, do you think you have no responsibility, that there is no reason to be mindful in the way you conduct your business? And I need to stress again, you won't be alone in these endeavors. The government will be right there with you, to share your burden and guarantee you smooth operations. As a result, the crown will announce the establishment of the first central bank of Medala to the public tomorrow. Of course, as the direct recipients of such a great innovation, you were informed first.\" Once more, Brym explained his position in a calm manner. However, Sawo wouldn't be convinced, and neither would the other merchants in the room. Not this time.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

244 Convincing the Holdovers

*Are they trying to compete with us?* Sawo thought, as he stared at Official Brym in the front of the meeting room. All around, the murmurs had started up again. The other merchants only sounded concerned, but Sawo was terrified. As ice-cold water spread throughout his veins, the former city lord stared at the calm smile before him in horror. He had seen the crown's work in the manufactories. He had seen the efficiency of their soldiers, and of their labor camps.

Unlike these commoners who didn't know how the administration of an estate worked, he had an idea of just how many resources the king had at his disposal. If the king's bank entered the finance game, no-one in this room would be competition for them. Even if they managed to keep their business open somehow, they would have to feed off the scraps the crown would deem unworthy of its attention. However, before he could compose himself enough to voice any complaints out loud, Brym continued.

\"There's no need to worry. King Corcopaca doesn't plan to compete with you for customers, and neither will I.\" The official seemed proficient in reading a room. As a result, his tone had become a lot warmer to calm down the commoners. \"The central bank is an organization that does not store money from outsiders and does not lend to private customers unless there are exceptional circumstances. First and foremost, it is an organization for exclusive use of the banks.\"

\"Banks?\" one merchant asked in confusion.

\"Banks are any organizations like yours. That is, businesses that store and lend money, or exchange currencies. In the future, every business which declares itself a bank and follows the orders of the central government will be under the umbrella of the central bank. Any private bank like yours will be allowed to loan money from the central bank, for a low fee. This is meant as a last line of defense, in case you end up in trouble, despite your best efforts, and are temporarily unable to pay out your customers or fulfill any other financial obligations.\"

\"Wait, would that not mean we would be employed by our lord?\" Next to Sawo, the merchant's face brightened up as he began to understand what the crown was offering here.

\"That's correct, though it's not that simple,\" Brym replied. \"In principle, you would still be free men. You would still be able to conduct your business as you see fit, just like before, and you would still be able to move and work wherever you want within the empire. Please remember: The crown could have simply introduced new laws to regulate your behaviors and force you into compliance. Instead, we decided to organize this meeting and talk to you about your importance for the future of this country. Everyone has been very reasonable, so we hope we have made that responsibility clear enough. Of course, you will also get a status that will correspond with your duty. While we can't make you official warriors due to concerns from other lords within the southern kingdom, your association with the crown will still impact your lives in a very real way.\"

Even Sawo had to admit that at least this much was true. In Medala, most commoners would not come into contact with the high nobility all their lives. The inner city walls alone made sure of that. Even though Saniya had already opened most of its gates to the commoners, the king was still a figure an ordinary citizen would only get to see from a distance, and only during special occasions.

Even at those times, only the craftsmen would sometimes be allowed to listen to the king if he needed their support for a new project. Sometimes he would also work with the farmers, all of whom showed great pride in their strong connection with the crown. However, not a single merchants had ever been close with the elusive Lord of Saniya.

Such a status – subordinate to a real department of the king – would elevate the merchants to the same levels as the other commoners in the city from one day to the other. No matter whether or not this connection was in name only, the craftsmen and farmers would show them the respect they had yearned for all their lives.

Still, Sawo wouldn't be won over just like this. Even now he was convinced that this was no more than another ploy from the false king, another attempt to gain control of one more facet of society, of yet another class. It was time for him to say something, anything. If he didn't speak up now, the others would be won over. He could feel it. However, for once he couldn't come up with a single complaint. As he was about to despair, the least likely of helpers came to his aid.

\"Now that this has been cleared up, we should be talking about one final issue that has been quite pressing for us,\" Official Brym said. \"It is the opinion of the crown that your businesses should be pickier about the people they loan money to.\"

As soon as he heard another hint at tighter rules, Sawo jumped at his chance. He stomped his feet and pretended outrage.

\"What does that mean? We were meant to be independent. Those were official's words, were they not?\"

\"Yes, within the regulations of the kingdom,\" Brym clarified. \"However, if you exclusively loan your money out to gambling addicts, it's not helpful to anyone but yourselves, and maybe the gambling dens.\"

This time, none of the merchants were brazen enough to complain, not even Sawo. Even so, the atmosphere turned heavier again, to reverse the previous elation. None of them would ever say it out loud, but their best customers were gambling addicts, drunkards and the like. Anyone who lacked the control to live within his means and needed money to afford his lifestyle would find them whenever they were short on coin again. If they couldn't take from the addicts anymore, who were they expected to take from instead?

\"It seems like there is still a lot of work to be done.\" Brym summed up the room with a sigh. \"Here is the plan: Within three years, we want ninety percent of your loans to go towards either the founding or the expansion of businesses in any form. That can include other banks, private workshops and manufactories who want to buy tools or new work space, farmers who want to expand their fields, merchants who want to buy ships and the like. In turn, we want to limit the amount of private purchase loans that are handed out, as in loans to individuals for buying short-term goods. The three year period should give you plenty of time to readjust your business in that regard. If you are dissatisfied and believe you can't operate under those constraints, it also gives you time to look for other work in the meantime. In the end, your business – like any other – should benefit the people of the kingdom. Thus, these measures are necessary, even if you dislike them. Fueling unhealthy habits of those who can't help themselves and funneling money into the gambling houses is not something you should actively support. I hope you can all understand that.\"

\"Yet despite all of the nice talk, we are still controlled. In the end it is just as I said, is it not? Official says that there will be no interference, but these are already fundamental changes to the way we do business. This meeting has lasted for not even an hour and already we have been confronted with this many demands. At this rate I wonder how many more of these suggestions we can expect in the future.\"

Confronted with another of Sawo's sharp jabs, the official dropped his mask for the first time. Although his smile remained, it looked much sterner as he turned to the former lord and confronted him directly.

\"Master Sawo, was it?\"

\"Yes, that is correct,\" Sawo replied with a frown. While he felt secure in front of the chubby official, exceptional danger seemed to be lurking behind that calm smile. Not to mention, he was unsure how the official even knew his name. Did he know about his former identity as city lord? Did he intend to make trouble for him based on his former status as a convict?

\"I remember, we met half a year ago, when we exchanged certificate notes. In fact, you were our very first customer, the first one to exchange copper for notes. From what I have seen of you then and today, you should be an astute businessman, someone who can see an opportunity for what it is, and someone who can see trends develop long before anyone else does. I don't know why you seem so opposed to the crown's central bank proposal, but no one will force you to subjugate yourself to us if you're uncomfortable with authority. However, if you want to exchange precious metals for notes in the future, and if you want to benefit from the central bank's advantages, like elevated status or the ability to loan from us in times of need, you will have to make a few compromises. I'm sure a talent such as yourself will be able to make a simple decision on this, rather than ask questions everyone knows the answers to, simply to disturb the proceedings.\"

Confronted with the naked truth, Sawo fell into a brooding mood, silenced just like all the other bankers in the room. Now that he had been called out, he couldn't simply shout out complaints any more. He could feel the eyes of every other merchant in the room on him. If he continued to create a scene, he would lose all credibility among his peers. Thus, he calmed his breath and began to think.

If he was being honest, the offered deal wasn't bad. Similar to his previous status of warrior, he would be bound to a lord, and thus elevate his own standing in society. Yes, he would have to agree to certain limitations, but they were not half as harsh than what he had expected when he had entered the castle for this meeting, and worlds apart from the strict social rules imposed by the old class system.

As for his opposition so far, he simply disliked the way he had been pushed around by his old foe, the King of the South. However, the proposal itself seemed reasonable. In fact, with all of their advantages, him and Tawo would overtake all the other people in this room in a fair competition. Soon, they would rise through the ranks to stand atop this new banking industry. All the official named Brymstock had done today was show him a new path to the top. And if ever it got blocked off by the king's machinations, he would simply find a new one, like he had always done.

When he looked back up from his ponder, the other merchants stared at him, bodies tensed and eyes wide. With bated breath, they all awaited his decision. All this time, he had spoken out for them, against the kingdom. In the process, he had turned into something of their representative for these talks. Once more confronted with his inherently noble status, his confidence rose once more. Already, he felt like the leader of Saniya's bankers, yet this was only the beginning.

\"In that case, I will no longer make things difficult for Official Brymstock. I will be glad to work within the framework of the crown, to the betterment of the kingdom.\"

As Sawo began to smile, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, and from the entire room. With the eased atmosphere, more questions bombarded Brym, but Sawo didn't listen. Already, his mind was set on future plans. His path had opened up once more, and he would storm ahead, like he had always done. Once more, the future looked bright.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

245 High Politics

*Just one more batch left to go.*

In the end, Brym had gotten through his meeting with the bankers of Saniya in a smooth fashion. Although Sawo and his complaints got him off to a rough start, everything had been smooth sailing as soon as the former city lord had been convinced. From that point on, the commoner part of their plan had unfolded without further incidents. He had set the financial industry of Saniya on a good path to support their economy with solid growth, all under the unified umbrella of a central bank. However, the big finale was still to come. Now that the commoners were taken care of, the nobles were the final hurdle to making their plans a reality.

When Brym entered the room, it was already packed. Unlike the small, unadorned room the commoners had been crammed into, this meeting was held in the castle's small salon, large enough to house twenty guests around a single table. Not only was it large, it was also ornate, with beautiful tapestry along the walls and new clear glass windows to let in the bright sunlight.

Though of course such luxury was to be expected, since the meeting was attended by representatives from the southern kingdom's estates. There were already clear fronts as well, though the two sides could not be more unequal in strength. On the left side of the room sat a large group of nobles, decked out in fancy red and blue robes to stress their exalted status. While none of them were lords, all of them were high-ranking warriors or priests from their respective estates.

In fact, every single estate within the southern kingdom was represented, and they made quite a bit of noise. As usual, Corco had been very generous with the offered food and drink. All day, the cooks and helps in the kitchen had worked hard to create a feast that threatened to buckle the table's sturdy legs. Faintly, the group to the left seemed to center around Guachimine Villca, former young master of House Villca and now advisor servant of Uchu Villca, former pirate and now Cashan's nominal lord. With a calm smile, the young Villca accepted his natural role as leader of the group, since he was the only former high noble among them. Though even he wasn't the highest status person in the room.

With great composure, Lady Guanca Ogulno, former governess of the South and lady of House Saqartu, sat on one end of the table, a bit apart from the left group and unfazed by the boisterous men. While she appeared neutral at first glance, her position making no distinction between the two sides, one look over to the right made her allegiance to Brym. That was, if he hadn't been told by the ghost warriors already.

If the left side of the table was day, then the right side of the room was night. There was no loose atmosphere, and only a few long faces sat there and stared across the table in resentment. Chief among them was a warrior servant who looked visibly uncomfortable by the way he had been ignored by the other lords. He shuffled atop his seat, trying to keep his red robe in order and attempting to look imposing all at the same time. None of these attempts yielded great results. Although he carried the sigil of the powerful House Ogulno, the other warriors seemed unimpressed and treated him like air. Tamaya had informed Brym of the new arrival's identity. His name was Qirao, close advisor to Lord Ogulno in Kapra, and chief culprit in today's meeting.

After countless slights, Ogulno had finally sent someone of high status to meet the king's officials in Saniya. However, his insight had come far too late. Not even Lady Saqartu would dare openly sit with her brother's servant. While House Ogulno had close relations to House Saqartu, even she would find it difficult to side with the stubborn lord this time.

*This should be a good one.*

While he hid his real grin behind a fake smile, Brym stepped into the room. As the new arrival registered with everyone, the atmosphere quietened down bit by bit, and the various representatives on the left stood to greet Brym in great spirit. Even Lady Saqartu – with her exalted status – half hinted at standing up, before she sat back down. Only the people to the right of the table seemed glued to their seats. With a nod, Brym acknowledged everyone's greeting as he walked past the left side, towards the chair at its head. As soon as he had arrived, he turned with a flourish and spread his arms.

\"Young masters, and great servants, proud warriors, pious priests and of course great ladies. In the name of King Corcopaca, this servant welcomes every estate's esteemed representative to Rapra Castle.\"

\"Hear, hear!\" one of the warriors shouted and raised his glass cup of wine. In response, Brym and the left side of the room replied in kind. As if on command, all eyes wandered across the table, to the holdovers. First, Lady Guanca put a hand on her glass as well, to at least hint at politeness. In the end, a nervous Qirao looked around in search for a way out of his social constraints. With no options left, he also raised his glass, though he glared daggers at Brym, who had waited for the official's reaction all this time. Unconcerned with the non-verbal threats, the young official continued.

\"Thank you, we shall drink to unity and prosperity within the southern kingdom.\"

Again, everyone got to enjoy the best wine Medala had to offer. Even Lady Guanca took a small sip and nodded in contentment. Once the pleasantries were over with, Brym sat down on his chair and observed the crowd in more detail. While the left was leaned forward in anticipation, Ogulno's man seemed most eager to disappear behind a mound of grapes on the table.

\"Again, thank you all for coming,\" Brym opened after his dramatic pause. \"First, I need to introduce myself: My name is Brym di Pluritac, and I advise and represent the King of the South in matters of finance.\"

\"Official Brym, can you explain why we have been called here? Everyone present hopes that the crown has found a way to deal with the current copper crisis,\" Guachimine said, with a sly look over to Ogulno's side.

\"House Ogulno protests!\" the servant exploded. \"What is this supposed to mean, 'copper crisis'? Why look in this direction at the mention of it? Does Official Guachimine wish to imply that this entire debacle was the fault of House Ogulno? Rather than look towards Kapra, which has changed nothing about its practices, problems only began to appear once House Villca got involved in the copper trade as well. Copper has been the staple business of Kapra for generations. Every Yaku knows this, from the lords all the way down to lowly merchants! If Cashan had not butted its way into the business of House Ogulno, none of this would have happened in the first place!\"

\"Nonsense.\" Guachimine replied with a sneer. \"House Villca has done no wrong. We have only done as agreed in our contracts with King Corco. In fact, House Villca has not traded copper with anyone outside of Saniya at all. Since Cashan did not supply the commoners, how did prices drop this harshly? House Villca cannot have been responsible for the flood of copper on the market. Thus, only House Ogulno is left, the largest copper supplier of Medala and the only possible culprit.\"

As the chaos began to unfold, Brym watched both sides with glee. Corco may have interrupted them to avoid a headache and get back to work, but Brym knew about the importance of divided southern estates for Corco's future endeavors. Thus, he simply leaned back and let them tear each other apart.

\"No, not the only one!\" Qirao shouted back. \"What about the crown? What about Saniya? Since Official Villca claims that their house sold to no one else, all that copper should have gone here, should it not? Then what happened to the copper once it arrived in Saniya? It could not have disappeared in a puff of smoke, could it?\"

\"Hah, you would actually dare blame the king himself for your failures! How bold of a lowly house like Ogulno. Do you wish to rebel, like the traitors from Port Ulta?\"

Faced with both insults and serious accusations, Qirao's face turned pale, before the red of anger took over.

\"Who slanders whom here? All you have done so far is try and blame House Ogulno for fighting off your greed! No wonder they call you a rat! A weakling who could not even rise above his commoner brother! Ruled by a bastard and a thief!\"

\"How dare you, little servant boy! House Cashan has proven valor and strength when all your Lord Ogulno would do was sit at home and count his copper coins!\"

Enraged as well, Guachimine stood up and slammed his fist on the table. Whether the clever warrior was truly angry or whether he wanted Qirao to create even more chaos was impossible to tell, but it made no difference. The official had no time to reply.

\"Enough!\" Although her voice was softer than anyone else's, Lady Guanca's call silenced the entire room, much to Brym's dismay. \"That is quite enough, out of both sides. Remember your status, your duty to your houses, and to the entire south. It has been too recent since we have fought a brutal war with the north. We still face enemies all around us. Now of all times, do we need to squabble like mortal housewives at a market? Where is your decorum?\"

As she looked around like a strict teacher, everyone lowered his head. Only Brym continued to meet her look.

\"What does the King of the South think of this mess?\" Guanca asked. \"After all, House Pluritac has been heavily involved in the copper trade as well. This old woman believes that Official Qirao's question at least deserves a reply.\"

\"Of course it does, Lady Guanca,\" Brym answered with a small nod. \"And House Pluritac is glad to provide an answer, now that lady has properly taught us all some manners.\"

Though he only elicited a few chuckles hidden behind hands, the mood still lightened before Brym answered the question.

\"As far as we understand, the abundance of copper has come from two separate sources,\" he explained and raised two fingers. While everyone else looked serious, only the servant of House Ogulno showed off a smug grin. Since Brym mentioned two sources, he would think that Brym was about to admit equal blame for the chaos, but the official would be in for a rude awakening. \"Source number one is, of course, House Ogulno's endless supply of copper. At this point, one gets the impression as if their entire estate was built on nothing but pure copper. While Kapra's actions should be well-known by most here, I will summarize their response to the chaos, to make sure we all see the full picture.\"

A light harrumph came from his right, but Brym decided to ignore it for now and continue his explanation.

\"Kapra has responded to Cashan's mining operations in the strangest of ways. Rather than try to communicate with Lord Villca to clear possible misunderstandings or even work together, Lord Ogulno has decided to simply increase his own output of copper, to outrageous degrees. Even worse, as soon as the copper leaves the ground, it is sold off right in Kapra. From there, traders have spread it all over the south. Since so much copper has flooded the markets, the prices for even simple products have become ludicrous.\"

\"Yet House Pluritac also had its part to play in the debacle,\" Qirao insisted. Again, Brym chose to ignore the interruption.

\"In addition to House Ogulno's reckless mining operations, our intelligence division managed to identify a second reason for the falling copper prices. As a result of the tumultuous takeover of Saniya, the class structure has been temporarily muddled, in part due to the new warriors of Saniya's army. In addition, many new, desirable products have become available for purchase in the city. Ever since those events, we have experienced a large increase in coins on the market. Our assumption is that a lot of commoners had money before, but were unable to spend it on anything meaningful, since the class system limits them on what they can buy. However, Saniya's new products have expanded their options. Thus, they have begun to spend their savings and further increased the amount of copper in the market. While their actions have no doubt troubled everyone in the kingdom, they should not be held responsible, since-\"

\"One moment!\" Qirao jumped up to interrupt Brym's speech yet again. \"How come none of this is the king's fault!? Where did all the copper from Cashan go?\"

\"How dare you speak up on this, lowly servant boy!\" Guachimine shouted. Soon, the entire left side of the table followed.

\"Sit down and show the crown some respect for once!\"

\"Petulant brats, everyone from Kapra's the same.\"

\"Just like his master.\"

As soon as Qirao dared complain again, all the refined officials lost their composure. Not only were these warriors and priests already drunk after all the wine they had been offered, they had only waited for a chance to jump on House Ogulno once Qirao dared to speak out of turn. Now that he had been goaded into a mistake, they were eager to show off their own loyalty, and stood to drag down an unpopular rival.

Once the insults began to bombard her father's representative, Lady Guanca slowly stood up for the first time since the start of the meeting to mediate the situation. However, this time Brym himself would break up the fight. After all, he was eager to answer Qirao's question himself. The noose around Ogulno's neck had begun to tighten. The meeting was about to heat up.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

246 Still Searching

A bang broke through the mess within the meeting room. Shocked faces from the officials stared through a cloud of smoke at the head of the table, where one of Brym's assistants had fired a pistol out of the open window.

\"I appreciate everyone calming down to consider the issue in a calm manner,\" Brym joked, as the servant put away his pistol again. \"Although your support of the crown is a great compliment and similarly appreciated, I would like to speak for the king myself. That is my job, after all. And while Official Qirao's interjection wasn't exactly polite, his question is still a justified one, as Lady Guanca said herself. Everyone should be fully informed about all aspects of the copper crisis before we rush into any decisions.\"

All this time, Brym had limited himself to a dry explanation of the core reasons for the copper crisis. However, after Qirao had put the blame on Saniya with harsher and harsher words, Brym had found it necessary to react. It was time to point the finger.

\"Now then, I'm sure everyone has been wondering what Saniya has been doing with all the copper we have bought from Cashan so far. While I believe this to be a fair question, it would normally be considered top secret information. However, the circumstances are special, so I would rather compromise the southern kingdom's security somewhat, and convince everyone of the truth instead. Like this, we will also avoid any more slander in the future.\"

Brym's gaze focused Qirao as he addressed him. Lord Ogulno's servant only scoffed in return.

\"No matter what you may think, Official Qirao, Saniya has not thrown the copper back onto the market. After all, why would we want to cause such a crisis in the first place, or exacerbate it? Instead, the crown needed and still needs the copper to fulfill its obligations as the protector of the southern kingdom. Over the past six months, we have built new, larger caliber cannons from bronze. Since King Corco is responsible for the safety of the kingdom's borders, he needed to field enough cannons against another potential attack from the northerners, as well as against the new threats from foreigners in Port Ulta. As everyone may be able to surmise, we needed massive amounts of copper to build all those cannons.\"

All at once, the people at the table looked to be in deep thought. No doubt their spies had told them one or two stories about the copper-coated cannons Corco's soldiers had been lugging around the countryside over the past months. Just as Brym had said, they had been placed into the various beacon towers along the Narrow Sea's shore and all the way up to Qarasi castle. Though of course, none of the spies knew that under the thin sheet of copper, the cannons were made from iron.

\"But that's not all,\" Brym continued. \"On top of the cannons, the king planned to have all future ship hulls produced in Saniya's new shipyard coated with copper below the water line. According to masters within our laboratories, such a coating would protect the ship from rot, barnacles and corrosion from the salt water. The copper even improves the ship's defense where it counts the most. Such a large undertaking will require even more copper, something the crown is already preparing for with its large copper storage. In fact, if King Corco hadn't stored away so much copper in this very castle, the crisis would be even worse than it is right now. I believe this explanation should clear up any misunderstandings. Unless there are any more complaints or suspicions towards the crown?\"

Confronted with Brym's unusual, aggressive gaze, Official Qirao shrank back in his seat, unwilling to reply.

\"Good,\" the former merchant concluded with a clap of his hands. \"Now that we have established that the fault for the crisis doesn't lie with Saniya, let's observe the other possible culprits. First off, the commoners. I'm not sure how we would punish them even if we wanted to. Apart from practicality, I don't believe punishment can be justified from a moral point of view. In the end, all they did was spend the wealth they already had, something that is perfectly within their rights. Also, a handful of commoners would never be able to affect the markets to the degree it has been affected. Such an honor would lie with someone more noble, I believe.\"

At this point, every last gaze had followed Brym towards Lord Ogulno's. Ready to strike the final blow, Brym's tone turned sharp to match the occasion.

\"According to our own conjecture, House Ogulno has aggressively and maliciously expanded its mining operations and thus reduced the copper prices. All of this has been done to ruin House Villca's finances and retain Kapra's monopolistic position in the copper market. That alone wouldn't be too bad an indictment. After all, economic battles between lords are preferable to outright war, and Lord Ogulno may not have known what catastrophic results all the copper in the market would cause. However, as soon as the crown became aware of the falling copper prices, our finance department foresaw the imminent disaster. In response, we sent out missives to every estate within the southern kingdom to prevent or prepare for the fallout. Yet faced with this warning, House Ogulno only increased its output of copper. Even after Lord Ogulno had received several direct missives from his king, with advice that he shall cede his mining operation or risk damage to every treasury within the southern kingdom, Lord Ogulno remained silent. Only now – with representatives from every estate of Sachay demanding answers as a united front – has Lord Ogulno deigned it appropriate to send his own official to explain his irresponsible actions. If we cannot fault House Ogulno, then who can we fault?\"

\"Outrageous! House Ogulno protests!\" Again, the servant jumped up to complain, Apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson from last time, but the other officials were quick to remind him.

\"Sit down, little servant boy!\" Guachimine shot back. \"Have you not made enough of a joke of yourself already!?\"

\"House Ogulno cannot be held responsible for the entire crisis! Not by itself! This is slander!\" Qirao replied. Although the other lords stood up as well, eager to start another war of words, Brym calmed them once more.

\"It's fine, I will defend my position,\" he said with a wave of his hand to reduce tension, before he turned to Ogulno's servant again. \"Official Qirao, you may not like it, but if we want to solve this crisis, we need to look at the facts. We have just established that neither the crown nor House Villca can be held responsible for the rising prices. In fact, we were the first to warn the other estates of the brewing trouble. And with the introduction of the new certificate notes, we have shown everyone a path out of it as well. However, even those notes have been banned inside Kapra, as if the lord was trying his damnedest to ruin the southern estates. Does Lord Ogulno plan to rebel, is this the plan? Because if he doesn't, he is making himself awfully suspicious for no reason.\"

\"Official, presumptuous accusations towards a lord of higher status than yourself are not proper conduct either. These actions could also be misconstrued as sowing division,\" a calm voice from across the table interjected. For the first time in a while, Lady Guanca had spoken up.

\"Governess Saqartu, while I respect your words, as does everyone in this room, there seems to be a need to be forceful with House Ogulno,\" Brym replied, unshaken by the woman's status. \"With repeated well-meant messages and offers for meetings, King Corco has tried to make Lord Ogulno aware of the crisis. This could have been handled in a private fashion, with no damage to House Ogulno's reputation. However, since Lord Ogulno has proven stubborn beyond reproach, we had no chance but to employ more forceful methods, as unfortunate as that may be. Beyond direct accusations in front of the entire south, nothing seems to work. Not to forget, to the best of our knowledge, Kapra has caused this mess, and someone needs to be held accountable. Unless House Saqartu wishes to confess and share the blame with House Ogulno, the case seems clear. Or does Official Qirao wish to defend his position again?\"

\"All House Saqartu asks for is some leniency,\" Guanca argued before Brym could focus on Qirao again. \"After all, we are all estates of Sachay, and all of us need to cooperate if we wish to face the threats around us. There is no reason to be vindictive, even less so with family.\"

As soon as Lady Guanca had announced her participation in the meeting, her goals had been clear to everyone. After all, as the sister of the current Lord Ogulno, she would always be partial. Still, in the face of an overwhelming amount of facts, and with House Saqartu just as hurt by the copper crisis as every other estate, she seemed to accept that her brother wouldn't get out of the issue unscathed. Thus, she had to settle for the second best outcome, much to Brym's glee, who was happy to sell a favor.

\"Of course, Governess\", he said. \"King Corco has no plans to charge his uncle with any undue fines purely out of vengeance. We only want to resolve our troubles and strengthen Sachay's unity before the northerners are done squabbling among each other.\"

\"In that case, House Saqartu has no further complaints.\"

\"Governess,\" Official Qirao's meek voice called out for help, but the lady only tapped the table with her long nails once to silence him.

\"Official, I am unsure why my brother would send someone with such a poor temper and lack of etiquette to represent him. I would suggest that you accept the facts, and your punishment with them. After all, brother has always been too greedy for his own good. May this be a lesson for the future.\"

\"Understood.\" The defeated Qirao lowered his head to the lady at one end of the table, before he turned to Brym at the other. \"How can this crisis be resolved then? What can House Ogulno do?\"

\"Simple. First off, every estate's treasury has suffered significantly since the copper has depreciated in value. House Ogulno is to compensate all other houses for their losses in this crisis.\"

\"Impossible!\" Qirao burst out again. \"Copper is worth almost nothing now! House Ogulno owns the copper mines and has lost more than most! At this point, Kapra is losing money by simply operating the mines! How will Lord Ogulno feed his servants if he has to give away every last bit he owns?\"

\"That's something Lord Ogulno should have considered before his greed created chaos for the entire south.\"

\"Official Brym,\" Guanca reminded. Again, Brym wouldn't make things to hard on her. After all, House Saqartu was an important trade partner to Saniya.

\"Of course, as promised to Lady Guanca, we can reduce the payment to the other lords somewhat, to lessen the burden on House Ogulno. Once the crisis is resolved, copper will appreciate again anyways, so the issue is not as bad as it seems at the moment. The exact cost will be determined at a later point during the meeting.\"

While Qirao still looked pale as a sheet, Lady Guanca nodded her head in satisfaction. Even if the fine was reduced, the burden on House Ogulno would still be huge. However, at this point, the governess only cared about preserving her house's reputation as the head of the southern estates and couldn't consider her brother's wealth, or happiness. Qirao was on his own.

\"However, in return for this favor, House Ogulno will have to agree to some basic ground rules in the future,\" Brym continued. \"House Ogulno will not mine copper above a certain amount, to be determined by this meeting, and will allow supervision from the king to enter his mines. We need to guarantee that the commitment is upheld after all. On top of that, House Ogulno will cease all of its overly harsh tariffs and lift the bans on all of Saniya's very legal products within the walls of Kapra. Should House Ogulno fail to comply to these demands, every estate in the south will be happy to reply to the tariffs in kind. I wonder how the estate will survive without any food. Sale of fertilizer would be impacted by this as well. No copper sales and back to almost no farming. House Ogulno shouldn't consider that a better alternative to supervision by its king, the rightful administrator of the southern kingdom, right?\"

Although Qirao was still pale, at least he wasn't shaking anymore. With a bow of his head, the official accepted his fate.

\"House Ogulno accepts responsibility and agrees to the terms laid out by its fellow houses, yet hopes for leniency.\"

__________________________

\"Official Brym, you wanted to see me?\"

The young lady bounced into the Brym's office with the energy of a child, to belie her noble appearance. Though of course, Brym never judged others for the masks they put on.

\"Ah, Tamaya, please have a seat.\"

Once she had plopped down on the chair across from Brym's desk, Tama crossed her legs and lazily leaned back.

\"How did the meeting with the officials go?\" she asked.

\"Quite well,\" Brym replied with a sly grin. \"Under the pressure from every other estate, Ogulno's official had no choice but to give in. Even the old governess gave up support after I placated her a bit. I think all she wanted was to show her estate's importance in southern politics, and maybe call our bluff a bit. In the end, she realized we weren't bluffing and held all the cards. With the support from the other lords, we even managed to get our certificate notes accepted as legal tender anywhere in the kingdom.\"

\"That sure sounds like you had a fun time. Guards told me there was some screaming in the small salon. I really would have loved to be there myself.\"

\"Well, I'm not sure getting screamed at by a disgruntled warrior is all that fun for most people.\"

\"Most people have no idea what proper fun is anyways.\" Tama waved him off. \"We are done then? From the sound of it, our goals are accomplished.\"

\"That they are. In no small thanks to the generous support of the ghost warriors.\"

\"Not to worry, they were orders from Corco after all, and this sort of disinformation work is quite fun every once in a while. It reminded me of our duties during the succession war, spreading rumors and such.\"

\"It's a shame I was stuck in Porcero during that time and couldn't really help. It's certainly a story I want to hear more about at some point.\"

Brym leaned down and opened a drawer on his desk. Over his time here, he had stuffed his desk with all kinds of paraphernalia, depending on his guest's preferences. For Tama, he pulled out a bowl of hard candies, and placed them on the table for her.

\"Maybe when I find the time one day,\" she said and snatched the bowl without a word of thanks. \"For now, I would like to know if there is anything left to do before I call my men back from the markets and borders.\"

\"Well, for one, you could tell your guys that they can stop spreading rumors of collapsing copper prices, and they can stop blaming Ogulno as well. I'd rather they spread some calming rumors so the prices bounce back more quickly. At this point, our tariffs on precious metals have been going on for a while already. It's only a matter of time before everyone starts to see through our tricks.\"

\"It's always exciting when a plan comes together just on time, isn't it?\" Tama said and threw another hard candy into her mouth.

\"Yes, precision is a wonderful thing. We managed to force the bankers under the wing of our central bank, bound the southern lords closer to Saniya's economic system, punished House Ogulno for their actions and even managed to introduce paper money into the world. Honestly, big bro always comes up with the strangest plans. How did he ever consider this many angles at once?\"

\"Well, it's what one would expect from a king, right? And your role was significant too. Are you sure you are not praising yourself?\"

\"I was barely involved in the conception,\" Brym explained. \"I excel more in execution anyways.\"

\"That much I have seen for myself. I've never seen a commoner play this many nobles at once and get away with it.\" Tama hid her smile behind her bowl of candy.

\"Well, I do have my own experience in that regard.\" While Brym's thoughts drifted back to his time as a merchant and assistant scam artist in Arcavia, Tama's face had turned serious again, though the candy in her mouth didn't help her image.

\"What about your other guy? Do you want him back?\"

\"Alyn? No, you can keep him. He's made a lot of enemies when he threatened the bankers into coming to the meeting. I don't want to punish him for following my orders, but he's better off when he's away from the public eye for a while. Also, I thought you wanted someone to free you from administrative work anyways.\"

\"Ah, yes. Thank you for that.\" She sighed in an exaggerated manner. \"Can you imagine anything more drab than paper work?\"

\"Maybe that is the one matter we can't agree on today.\"

\"Maybe not,\" she said and looked at the neat stack of documents on Brym's table. \"I shouldn't impose on you any longer, so you can get back to your precious paper. Please tell me if there's more ploys to be spun. I am always up for some fun.\"

With a wink and a smile, the Medalan beauty stood up and left the study, the candy bowl still clutched in her arms. Although Brym picked up one of his documents, he looked back up just in time to see her leave. Through his new glass windows, he watched her disappear into the busy crowd of accountants within the finance department. For a while, he simply sat there and watched his colleagues do their duties, as he neglected his own. With the new windows, he could see the workers of the department clearly. They had become people again, no longer mere shadows. Somehow, he felt one step closer to a home. Maybe, he thought, it would be here.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

247 Catching Up

Unlike Balit, nothing much had changed about the city of Eniila in the two years of Atau's absence. Just as it had been before, the view from within the Aureus merchant guild's top floor, down onto the streets, exuded a lazy atmosphere of old-world charm. In the distance, Atau found his ships moored along the pier, exactly where he had left them. They had already been guests in the city for a week now. Today was the day they would finally leave for new waters, as happy as he may have been to stay a while longer.

\"What are you looking at?\"

When he turned his head, he realized that someone had managed to sneak up on him, though Atau didn't mind the intruder. Who would mind a visit from such a mature beauty? The pale skin of the Arcavians was contrasted by her dark, wavy hair that ran all the way down her back. Though her most seductive part were her eyes, always teasing, her shrewdness hidden deep within.

\"Did you sleep well?\" Atau asked, his arms still on the windowsill.

\"As well as I could,\" she complained. \"You did not give me much of a chance yesterday.\"

\"How could I? All this time, I saved all my strength for you, my love.\"

\"Oh save it for the tavern girls and don't condescend me. If you lie to me in bed, I don't mind. That's fun. But lying to me out here is just an insult. I heard all the rumors, so don't try to talk your way out of this. You know if I'm good at one thing, it's collecting rumors.\"

In fact, The young lady Aurea, Master of the Aureus merchant company, was good at far more than just one thing. Though one of her greatest talents had always been to find the morsels of truth within rumors before anyone else could. So it was no wonder that she had grown her enterprise into one of the largest merchant companies along Arcavia's east coast. Still, Atau wouldn't ruin his time here by admitting to something he wouldn't have to admit. Where was the romance in honesty?

\"I'm not sure what you mean, my love.\"

With a sigh, Aurea leaned on the wall next to him and looked at him with a displeased look. He was reminded of his youth. This was the look his etiquette teacher had given him after he had sneaked outside.

\"Is that so? Tani, Biana, Livia... you want me to continue? We can check if I found all of them. Really, this is fault, letting you in again. I only hope you carried no bug from one of those floozies to me.\"

At first he felt like he was in trouble, but soon he realized that she was more worried about disease than about his infidelity. No wonder, since their relationship had always been mostly physical anyways, and when it wasn't physical, it was professional, just between a captain and a merchant. In the end, Aurea had always been too rational for her own good.

\"There's no need to worry about that,\" he answered with a wide grin, happy about his answer. \"My cousin's got me a miracle medicine, you see? Whatever I catch, it'll heal like nothing ever happened. No problem at all. So even if I caught something, it died long before it got to you.\"

\"And that cousin of yours is what, some sort of miracle doctor?\"

Although Atau made her laugh, it wasn't the sort of laugh he wanted to hear. From head to toe, she was dripping with sarcasm. Though he didn't really mind. After all, he was telling the truth for once.

\"Sure. Laqhis is a lot of things. Miracle doctor is bound to be in there somewhere.\"

\"Please allow me to remain skeptic.\"

*Nothing unusual then.*

For a while, they just stared out of the window, into the peaceful morning streets of Eniila. In the end, Atau was the one to speak up first again.

\"You know, I was a bit curious and wanted your opinion on something. I've heard rumors that there's some religious war going on between the north and the south. Anything I should worry about as I travel along the north coast?\"

\"Is that why you came back to me?\" her dry laugh felt like a sting deep into his soul. \"So you could squeeze me for rumors?\"

\"Nah, it was mostly because you got a great ass,\" he said and grabbed for her waist, though Aurea moved out of reach like the wind.

\"How charming.\" Although she turned away, a smile had returned to her face, clearly happy with the compliment. However, the harmony only lasted a moment, before she became serious again. \"Though you did hear right. The southerners have their new religion, and the great priests at the top, around the continent's center in Valerna, want to retain their exclusive right to be the most important people in the world.\"

\"Sounds like you support the south. I always thought you weren't interested in the Ioannites.\"

\"I support no one, not between those two. They say they fight for principles or freedom. But really, they just fight for money or power. If I support anything, I support the war in general. Lots of money to be made from war. Though I am still an Arcavus adherent, if that is what you were asking. I think little of those new heretics down south, celebrating and praying to some ordinary man as if he could compare to a god. Still, the war is far away and has nothing to do with me, or you.\"

\"When I was in Borna, their king had just converted. Clearly, he sees things differently.\"

\"Yes, because he doesn't want to send money to Valerna any longer, I would wager,\" she said as she rolled her eyes. \"There have already been several wars between smaller lordships in the center of the continent. About a year ago, some radical Ioannites took over a small town in Trocina. They stormed the local steward's mansion and plundered the old Arcavus shrine there. If you believe them, that form of worship is 'heretical', so they liberated all that gold and all those gems from the shrine's statues and insignia.\"

As Aurea spoke, she sauntered over to the bed in the corner and fell onto it. Even as she lay in bed, her feet remained on the ground.

\"Though it seems like those robbers failed to make their just case in front of Trocina's lord,\" she continued while looking at the ceiling. \"He declared them rebels and set off with his army, to crush the rebellion and clean up the nonbelievers. Then some southern countries who already converted to the Ioannites thought they needed to protect their brothers in Trocina and got themselves involved as well. Now it is no longer a rebellion, but a proper war. So of course Trocina's allies would send their own soldiers to die over some gold that is long gone by now. So far, the north and east coasts are staying out of it, but the entire affair is getting bigger and bigger. I hear that the emperor in Valerna might declare some sort of holy war, like the one to push back against Shimoa over west.\"

As always, Aurea was a spring of knowledge. While it was nothing he couldn't have learned elsewhere, he was still glad to get the information from someone reliable.

\"Have you heard anything about Borna or Cahlia getting involved?\" he asked what really bothered him.

\"Well, they are across the entire continent, so I wouldn't know. Though I would reckon that they will stay out of it for now. Mostly the center that has been involved so far. Still, the air smells of fire and iron. Some incense too, from both sides. In another year or two, the whole continent might go up in flames. Even this place might not be safe anymore.\"

\"Death and murder are at least good for business, as you said.\"

\"Not if they burn down entire cities. Some war is fine, but the way these pious people waged this new religious strain is a complete mess. No one has adhered to any of the old rules of conduct, nor do they understand civility. People are being burned alive once they are caught, just because they thought the wrong thing. Entire cities are razed just for some extra rations. Feels like everyone has gone mad from one day to the next. At this point, we are only trading at the fringes of the conflicts, mostly to lordships who border the battles and may get involved soon. I refuse to send my people any closer to the war zones. They are just as likely to be robbed by the marauding bands of soldiers as they are to turn a profit.\"

\"Well, if you ever find yourself in hot water here, you can always just move to Medala. I know a couple people over there, can help you get settled in pretty quickly.\" Although he had made the offer with good intentions, both of them knew that Aurea would never accept. That wasn't the kind of woman she was.

\"A month-long trip across the waves sounds like hell to me,\" she replied. \"And it sounds like I would have to see even more of you than I do already. So allow me to decline.\"

\"If that's your biggest concern, you should pack your things and leave right away. I won't be in Medala much anyways. What with all the traveling around the world and exploring and everything else.\"

\"Feels like everyone is an explorer nowadays,\" Aurea sighed. Reminded of something, she shot back up from the bed, a twinkle in her eyes. \"Hey, have you heard of Captain Dolemius?\"

\"The idiot who was trying to make it all the way to Chutwa from here?\" Atau sneered. \"Yeah, I've heard the name.\"

\"I would never dare to call a great explorer an idiot, but then again, I am not the greatest captain of all time. Are you jealous when I praise a man besides you?\"

\"Hah, that phony isn't even in the same league as me. At least I understand basic mathematics. How can one man so dramatically underestimate the size of the globe? Pretty sure he traveled without proper navigation too. If he hadn't gotten so lucky, he would be dead by now.\"

\"Maybe that's true for all of us in these times,\" Aurea said with a sigh. \"But if he made a mistake it is the kind of mistake I would like to make myself. He found an entire new world in the process, that is some luck.\"

\"Or so he claims.\" Atau scoffed.

Ever since he had arrived here, locals had been talking about nothing but the exploits of the great Captain Dolemius. According to his own stories, he found a new continent far to the east of Arcavia. Atau had heard all kinds of tales of the new land, about people with two heads, man-eating giants and mountains of gold. It was the kind that storytellers would make up of places they had never seen. To Atau, all of it was nonsense.

\"You don't need to believe the rumors on the street, but you should at least believe me,\" Aurea replied in a sour tone. \"I saw the captain and his crew come home. Don't tell me you don't trust me, great captain.\"

\"You did?\" he asked, finally interested.

\"With my own eyes. The brave explorers were paraded around the street to get the people excited for further expeditions. I saw the gold, the strange statues, and the stranger savages they brought with them from the new world.\"

\"That's... unbelievable. A new world? How large is it? Where?\"

As if a fire was lit inside Atau, all the suspicion was blown away and replaced by a dim haze, as if the entire world had become more mysterious. Though for once, Aurea didn't have all the answers for him.

\"That much even I don't know,\" she admitted. \"And if I did, I would risk my head if I told you. Something like this is secret knowledge of the crown, just as bad as a map of the kingdom. No one is allowed to know the location of the new world, or any other details. Though I did hear that on their first expedition, they only explored the edges of the new continent they found. Captain Dolemius believes that he will still be able to sail for Chutwa once the new continent is sufficiently explored. Though maybe he only said so to gather support for his next journey.\"

The development made Atau fall into thought again. While it was great that the Arcavians were busy with all kinds of matters and didn't seem all too interested in Medala for now, the discovery of new routes to the east could spell trouble in the future. He had heard Corco talk about his long-term plan more than once. Monopolizing the trade between Chutwa and Arcavia played an important role in that plan.

However, the threat of a new eastern passage to Chutwa also offered an opportunity for them. If there was new land in the endless waters between Chutwa and Arcavia, then Medala had just as much access to it as the Arcavians did. Wouldn't this be a chance for their expansion as well? At the very least, they could compete with the Arcavians for their new route to Chutwa and intercept their new trade routes.

*It's all too complicated. I can't decide anything on my own.*

\"What are you thinking, oh great explorer? Do you want to travel east as well, and compete with the great captain for glory?\" Aurea's joking tone brought Atau back to reality.

\"Nah. He was an idiot the first time he tried this, and he's still an idiot now. Maybe he's a lucky idiot, but that doesn't change anything. Why explore new worlds, when there is so much of the old one left to see?\"

Reminded by Aurea's question, the haze in Atau's head cleared. Whatever path others took wouldn't matter to him. He would forge ahead on his own regardless.

\"At best, the idiot has his route, and I have mine. And my route does not lead me east. Today I'll set sail for the west again. Soon, we'll reach farther than any Medalan, or any Arcavian has ever gone. We'll see who the greater explorer is then.\"

With a spring in his step, Atau walked over to his lover and kissed her lips.

\"Don't wait up for me, my love. I'm sure we will meet again.\"

His final goodbyes spoken, he reached for the door, to return to his men, and his mission.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

248 Cold War

On top of a small hill in central Medala's countryside, two delegations of nobles met in a meeting that would determine the fate of their countries. In the distance flowed the silver waters of the Argu River, right through the city of Odeana. Once, it had been one of many prosperous cities along the banks of the river. However, now it lay in ruins, its walls broken and turned to rubble in several spots and much of its outer city a smoldering pyre. In front of this city's gates stood an army of Medalan warriors, its brave defenders, and opposite, on the muddy plains that once used to be fields, their enemies, warriors just the same.

Since morning, Pacha's eyes had swept past the same scenery countless times. All throughout the day, the officials from both sides had exceeded each other in their attempts at flattery, fancy speeches and the like. In the end, the victory in terms of shameless talk had clearly gone to Amautu's people. It seemed like the great scholars of the north could spin the story of an afternoon walk into an endless epic. They had even held an entire, formal banquet atop the hill, without ever talking about the relevant issues. While Pacha had been raised to value proper etiquette and had come with good intentions, he began to lose his patience. Even so, Amautu's servants continued without pause.

\"In the name of King Amautu Secundu Pluritac, King of the North and second prince of the Medala Empire, this council has come together to determine-\"

\"To determine who gets what.\" Driven beyond his limits, Pacha interrupted the servant to finally get to the point. \"Everyone knows why we are here and we have spent all day on nothing but ceremony. Is this really necessary?\"

\"Ceremony is what distinguishes humans from beasts, King Pachacutec,\" Amautu answered in a dry tone. \"Though this king would not expect a barbarian to understand.\"

\"There is a limit to everything,\" Pacha said as he ignored the insult. \"We have been standing here and waiting for your servants to finish their fancy talk since the break of dawn. Maybe we should first solve the issues at hand? After we are done with our work, King Amautu can have his servants stand around and make up new rules for walking and breathing for as long as he wants.\"

For a while, the two brothers stared each other down, Amautu with cold eyes and Pacha with barely contained anger. However, the King of the Center didn't mind the tension. After all, Amautu wasn't any larger or more impressive of stature than Corco. And while Corco only hid his real strength behind a harmless facade, Amautu had always been a true weakling. In fact, the second prince was even proud of his lack of prowess. With their difference in stature and charisma, any outside observer would always judge a wordless contest as Pacha's win. Thus, it was no surprise that Amautu soon looked to the side and gave in.

\"Fine, barbarian. This time, King Pachacutec called for the meeting. Thus, we will follow what goes for rules in the central kingdom for today only. Speak your mind, and make your offer to this king.\"

Whatever snide remarks Amautu had for his brother, Pacha had more important issues to worry about. With threats all around him, he couldn't afford to bother with petty squabbles. Ultimately, Amautu was the smarter one anyways. Pacha had never won a war of words against him, and he wouldn't try now, not right before such important negotiations.

\"Good. In that case, King Amautu and his men are advised to retreat from Odeana and cease your occupation of the central kingdom's lands, so we may punish the traitorous Lord Instea and restore justice within Medala.\"

\"Hah!\" Amautu's dry laugh told everyone present that he was anything but happy with the demand. \"Lord Instea has decided to join the northern kingdom of his own volition, as has the entire House Instea with him. Even more, our actions were approved by the Triumvirate Meeting. All of our actions are within the laws set down between the three kingdoms and thus legitimate. If anything, the central kingdom's troops are the aggressors. They have attacked their former subjects with no justification. If the lords can be called traitors for choosing to serve another king, what would be the point of our laws?\"

This time, it was Pacha's turn to pretend offense.

\"If this hero's central kingdom had broken any rules, the Ancestral Hall would have admonished those actions by now. However, the hall has done no such thing, and instead has spoken out against the greed of the southern and northern kingdoms, who take lands from their fellow Medalan lords like common bandits.\"

\"Since this king is a man of honor, this king will not slander his ancestors.\" Amautu frowned, barely able to retain his composure. \"Yet every man can think of the Ancestral Hall's words whatever he may.\"

This sort of restraint was the reason Pacha liked his talks with Amautu far more than those with Corco. If he had made the same shameless remark to the southern king, Corco would have spit in Pacha's face and cursed out his family with an endless litany. In the end, it would only serve to embarrass Pacha and the Ancestral Hall in front of the servants. However, Amautu was far better behaved, almost too much for his own good. He would never directly state the obvious bias of Grand Ancestor Viribus. His indirect complaint about the Ancestral Hall's judgment was as far as the northern king would be willing to go. Thus, Pacha could be far more shameless here.

\"Whatever you say – King Amautu – will not change the facts. Our men have breached the walls of Odeana twice already, and the city has burned once. At this rate, it is only a matter of time before your defenses fall. Give up the city or it will be a pointless drain of resources for both our sides.\"

Faced with Pacha's reasonable complaint, Amautu still retained his unreasonable frown.

\"Of course. The Kingdom of the North will cede Odeana, as soon as the Kingdom of the Center agrees to hand over House Pluritac's Argu Basin estate in return.\"

\"Only in your dreams, brother,\" Pacha replied, now enraged himself at Amautu's shamelessness. The Argu basin was a large plains south of Medala's capital, and the reason for House Pluritac's centuries of continued control over Medala's political landscape. After all, the basin contained the largest and most profitable silver mines in the entire empire. When the borders for the three new kingdoms had been drawn, Pacha had been left with the Pluritac family's richest lands, the mines chief among them. Of course, Amautu would be greedy to see them in his own hands. But of course, Pacha would never agree.

\"If you want the mines, come and take them yourself. Why not send your great beast soldiers across the lands of Pachacutec to occupy them? Do you have no trust in them?\"

Ever since the start of the war, a group of Amautu's warriors had stood out during the battles. In all their the fights, they had appeared far stronger than the average cultivator, and fearless like enraged animals. Although he was deriding them in his words, Pacha was eager to find out more about these strange new warriors who had given his men so much trouble. Yet his brother didn't fall for the unsophisticated ploy.

\"How this king applies his troops is no man's concern. And if he wishes to take Odeana, King Pachacutec could follow his own advice and simply take it by force.\"

\"Yet the difference is that our troops are about to take the city either way. Why not make things easier on everyone and give in when the odds are against you?\"

Again, Amautu laughed his joyless laugh.

\"Hah, if the central kingdom only lusted after Odeana, there would still be a chance we may agree. However, regaining this one city is not the goal of this campaign, is it? If the south cannot regain Lord Gratidia's lands as well, this king would still retain full control of the Argu River's water traffic. No matter what we do, you will continue to fight us until the northern kingdom retreats back to the north of the Argu. If we give in early here, we only speed up your campaign, and our own demise. Why would this king ever play along with such games?\"

\"At the very least, there is a need to talk about peace,\" Pacha insisted. \"On both sides, good warriors of House Pluritac are dying for no reason. And while they do, that southern bastard reinforces his position more and more.\"

\"At least King Corcopaca is a legitimate heir to the emperor. At least he is in control of his own house and estate, rather than play puppet for his greedy relatives. This king would rather see Corcopaca as emperor than a bastard as his equal.\"

There it was at last: Actual emotion from Amautu. Yet it wasn't the brotherly solidarity the young king Pacha had hoped for. All he could hear in Amautu's voice was scorn and rage. His own muscles tensed to mirror Amautu's, yet he somehow retained his calm, at least for now.

\"Brother, if you are so adamant about this hero's demise, why even agree to these negotiations, and why drag them out until now? What are you planning here, other than to annoy me?\" Pacha asked with a growl. \"Why are you holding us here for this long with your pointless rites? Are you setting up an ambush, or an assassination?\"

\"Are you getting nervous, King Pachacutec?\" Amautu asked with that smug look of superiority Pacha had seen far too much throughout his youth. \"Maybe... are you worried about Lord Ichilia taking control over your men while you are away? After all, I heard that the King of the Center's power is challenged by his own uncle, and not even his own troops truly support him.\"

Blood boiled as Pacha's fist clenched further. Just as he was about to explode, he looked to the side, where he met with Pallatio's warning look. All throughout his struggles for power, the servant was the only one who had remained loyal to him. As usual, Pacha decided to trust his one true advisor. Just barely, the hero king managed to tame his temper.

Although he wanted to beat the little northern king who thought him and his ploys oh so clever, Pacha understood that a deadlock in their war would only further help the southerners. He needed to earn Amautu's goodwill, at least enough to break his firm alliance with the south. Though of course, Pacha wasn't smart enough for an elaborate ploy to trick Amautu to his side. Thus, he tried his luck with the only thing Amautu wouldn't expect: Pacha told the truth.

\"Brother, there is no need for so much animosity, is there? After all, we are still brothers, despite everything.\" While Pacha sighed, tired of the constant battles with his family, Amautu answered only with a sneer. Even so, Pacha continued, undeterred.

\"I understand that you have your reservations about my status. But no matter what you believe, we are brothers. Through our mother, if nothing else. And you are correct: Ever since I became a candidate to sit the silver throne of Medala, House Ichilia has done nothing but attempt to control me and gain power of the empire, with me as its puppet ruler. However, today is my chance to break this bond, break this dependency and destroy House Ichilia's attempt to overthrow House Pluritac. In the war against the south, I showed distinction, though we failed to achieve victory in the end. My actions convinced many lords of my abilities as a general and leader. Most of them were long unhappy with Ichilia's control. With a combination of their forces, the strength of House Pluritac and the advice from our foreign friends, I have more than enough strength to stand up to our uncle. Even better, Divitius Ichilia lost two of his dependencies to the north – to you – while he failed to support me in my war against the south. In fact, I could frame my retreat in the south with the excuse that I had to turn north to save my uncle's hide. If I, after he has failed in every regard, manage to negotiate a decent peace for the central kingdom, House Ichilia's grasp on even its closest dependents will waver. Soon, House Ichilia will shrink back to the standing it deserves: an ordinary estate, nothing more.\"

\"Why talk about these matters here? This appears to be an issue for King Pachacutec, and irrelevant to the northern kingdom.\" While he still refused to negotiate, Amautu's tone was a lot less rough compared to before. By now, he would have calmed down, and his cold brother would have begun to calculate the odds.

\"Maybe, but we can come to an agreement that works for both parties. Again, I know you have some alliance with the south. But if you believe them to be no threat to your kingdom, you would be wrong. Unlike you, I have seen them fight. They are much more dangerous than you can imagine, brother.\"

\"However strong their warriors may be, there is no reason to fear the south, not for this king. They are far away, with an entire kingdom between them and us.\"

\"Borders are only for soldiers,\" Pacha tried again. \"The southerners have moved their commoners into both the northern and central kingdoms. They have begun to infiltrate every major city of the north with their people and goods. And they have begun to funnel coin from those cities back into the south.\"

\"They control only the commoners,\" Amautu scoffed in response. \"Why would the commoners be of value? If they gain too much of our coin, we can simply take it back from them. While your central kingdom has strengthened its grip on its warriors and lords, this king's northern kingdom attracts scholars and other learned men from all over Medala, through its sophistication alone. If the south aims for the weak, lowly groups at the bottom of society, let them. They will find no greatness there.\"

\"Yet their goods still drain our treasuries, no matter how cheap the people may be. And do not forget what the king of the south has said about your Chutwa scholars. Remember that his goal is the eradication of scholar culture within Medala.\"

Just as Pacha was about to give up, he was reminded of Corco's words during his return banquet. Back then, the southern king had challenged a scholar in a debate and riled up the lords against the invasion of Chutwa culture in their estates.

While Pacha agreed with Corco's sentiment in regards to the growing influence of the scholars, it was a strong card to play against Amautu, who was so utterly convinced of Chutwa's superiority. Just as expected, a myriad emotions played on his brother's face, before he stood up straight, an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders.

\"Maybe there is more to talk about after all.\"

Pacha really wanted to breathe a relieved sigh of his own, but he had to keep up the poker face. Now that the first step had been done, peace negotiations looked promising. At last, two years after Emperor Titu's succession, the kingdoms of the Medala Empire would no longer be at war.

However, the end of this war would only start a second one, an invisible contest in the shadows. The heroes of this new war would be the spies and informants in the dark alleys of the empire's cities, as well as the diplomats in the backrooms. For now, the fate of Medala was in their hands.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

249 No Place Like Home

As the ox trotted through the wide roads of Arguna at a leisurely pace, the crowds parted before it like the waters before a ship's bow. Within the crowd, a man with a green headband stared at the cart driver behind the ox. On any other day, the driver might have considered that it would be because of her looks. After all, Antaya di Pluritac's beauty would always garner attention from her surroundings. However, this time she traveled in a long cloak that covered her entire figure, and this was Arguna, the old center of the ghost warriors' power. With a casual motion, she raised three fingers of her left hand towards the man to show her allegiance. After, she continued on into the endless crowd, as if nothing had happened.

*Nothing much has changed since last time,* Antaya thought as she observed the people around her. Although it had been several years since she had last been in Arguna, the city was still the same as ever: Large, loud and chaotic, with the people running around in the open all day, just to show off their own greatness. Of course, this was only true here, in the central parts of the city.

Since the great nobles in the inner ring were far too important to spend time out in the sun and commoners weren't allowed inside the interior walls, the roads around the palace remained abandoned all year round. At the same time, the unskilled laborers who lived in the slums outside the outer walls were far too exhausted from constant work to do much shopping or showing off. They were already content with a warm meal and a bed of straw for the day.

Thus, two solid rings of silence surrounded the lively heart of Medalan life. Despite the city's chaotic nature, Antaya felt a calmness wash over her, one she hadn't felt in a long time. After all, back when she had left the capital, she had believed that she may never come back here. Not long after the death of the emperor, her husband had been executed, on false charges from the silver palace. His death had made her the de-facto leader of the former emperor's remnants. As a result, she had become the main target for further attacks from the Empress Mother and the Ancestral Hall. Faced with such powerful foes, her only choice had been to flee the city and leave the core of Emperor Titu's troops in the hands of her daughters.

However, by now the Emperor's legitimate heir had taken control of the southern peninsula, while the remaining two pretenders had also left the capital to deal with issues within their own lands. For the first time in centuries, Arguna wasn't the political center of the empire. Thus, she had decided, it was finally time to return home and look after her daughters. Though of course, she had also brought important information with her. In the intelligence business, it was always best to accomplish several tasks with a single move. Otherwise, one would risk falling behind one's foes.

Enthused at the thought of her imminent family reunion, she turned her ox cart into a side alley. This was where the real heart of the city lay, far away from the eyes of the lords and warrior servants. This was where only commoners lived, and where they ruled. Soon, she reached an old, run-down tavern, thinly disguised as a chess shop. However, Antaya had no interest in games, or in alcohol. With great routine, she parked her oxen cart in a niche along the wall and covered it with a tarp. Others would take care of the animal. When she turned, the chess shop's keeper was already waiting for her.

With a bow, he held out an old key towards her, servile gestures only possible in the alley that was under total control of the emperor's ghost warriors.

\"Welcome home, Lady Antaya,\" the warrior said.

\"Thank you, Olacu,\" the lady replied and grabbed the key to the shop's hidden back entrance. Soon, she had disappeared in the backrooms of the 'Stone's Throw'. Before her eyes could readjust to the darkness, a shadow already charged towards her. Though even now, she felt no threat. After all, she was home once more.

\"Mother!\" the shadow shrieked. In the dim light of the torches, the shadow soon turned into Antaya's daughter Inti, the young lady in charge of the capital's ghost warriors. With a hug, the daughter greeted her mother back into the city, just like she had done for her brother several years prior.

\"Good girl. Have you been well-behaved?\"

\"Of course, mother,\" Inti answered. After she had calmed down a bit, she let go of her mother and stepped back, in an attempt to strike a ladylike figure. Before her husband's death, Antaya would have gotten angry over her daughter's poor etiquette. After all, Inti had always lacked the ladylike qualities her other sisters had shown. However, in their new position, manners mattered little. Instead, they needed the old qualities of a warrior now more than ever: a calm mind, bravery and strength. At least in that regard, Inti had never been lacking.

\"Mother, please sit here,\" Inti said and showed Antaya to a chair at a small table in the dim room. Soon, mother and daughter had taken a seat across from one another.

\"Mother, wasn't your trip here dangerous? What was so important for you to return all by yourself?\"

\"Well, the city is no longer the bed of coals it used to be. Now that the danger has been reduced, I thought it was time to return home and see my daughter again.\"

Of course, it had been a long time since Antaya was a careless person who would act based on her feelings. At least since her husband's death, she had been forced to become careful and calculative. As expected, the most disciplined of her daughters understood right away, and got straight to the true reason for Antaya's visit.

\"You did not come here for a family chat, did you?\"

At this point, the enthusiasm from their meeting had disappeared from Inti's face.

\"Of course I did.\" Antaya smiled. \"But I also brought some news from the western front lines. Our people have been stretched thin. Even after we hired some outsiders for minor tasks, we are spread out too far, all over the empire. Since we were short on men already and I was in the area, I decided to take the message and inform you myself. In the meantime, the ghosts can remain on site and watch for further developments.\"

\"So what's the news? Did Pacha finally lop off Amautu's head?\" Inti asked, and simulated a horizontal axe swing with her hands.

\"Nothing so fortunate, I'm afraid.\" Antaya's smile disappeared. \"Quite the opposite in fact. The two kings held peace talks. And since then, they have not fought for almost an entire triumvirate cycle.\"

\"What? How did they come to an agreement? I thought they were worse enemies than Pacha and Lord Corco?\"

Even surprised, Inti remembered to add her master's proper title. It was enough to make any mother proud.

\"Apparently, Pacha is willing to accept Amautu's hegemony over the two estates in question. In return, he demanded free passage through and across the Argu River, free from controls or tariffs, for anyone directly affiliated with the southern kingdom.\"

\"That... is a smart move,\" Inti said after a second of thought. Antaya nodded her head, since she thought the exact same way.

\"Maybe the plan came from King Amautu, or maybe from one of the Pluritac advisors like Pallatio, but I doubt any of the details were Pachacutec's idea. After all, he is not known for his intricate thoughts, and yet both kings get just what they want in this deal. Amautu gets to expand his kingdom's borders. He also proves that he can defend the lords under his crown from foreign invasion, despite his very weak image as a warrior. Pachacutec gets the trade along the Argu River flowing again, something his new allies from the Orient will be very grateful for. Even more, he will force his uncle's ships to field the flag of House Pluritac if they don't want to be taxed or robbed. It is a clear outward signal that House Ichilia stands beneath Pachacutec within the central kingdom. For Pachacutec, it is a massive expansion of his political power.\"

\"In that case, this seems to be bad news overall.\"

\"Nothing but, I am afraid,\" Antaya replied. \"Now that the northern kings are no longer fighting each other, they will soon ready another attack on the south, in one way or another. How has Prince Corco fared so far?\"

\"*King* Corco, mother,\" Inti corrected her.

\"Yes, of course.\" Her smile returned as she remembered the clever, but gloomy boy who would spend all his days in the general's mansion. \"You should know more about the situation in the south, and you have already met the king after his return. What do you think, how bad is our position if the northerners launch another military offensive? What about a trade war?\"

\"At least in that regard, there is no need to worry. From the letters Tama has sent back, the king has a firm grasp on his lands and has led a swift and efficient development of his estates. And that is confirmed by many sources. It doesn't come just from my sister, who can play it a bit loose with the truth sometimes.\"

*The two never got along all that well,* the mother thought. However, she didn't interrupt her daughter's explanation.

\"Much seems to have changed in the southern kingdom, and especially in the southern Pluritac estates. At this point, we won't even need to travel to see all the innovation out of Saniya. The influence of the southern kingdom has already begun to affect the capital.\"

\"Has it?\" Antaya raised an eyebrow. \"Why did I not notice any differences when I came here?\"

\"The changes are mostly hidden behind closed doors or restricted to the commoners. But they are definitely there. Among the craftsmen of the city, word has spread of the excellent treatment they receive in Saniya. This year, three major caravans of craftsmen have already left Arguna for the south. While that is still only a small percentage of the city's overall population, rumors about better treatment for the lower classes down south have spread fast. And that commoners have a chance to learn the new, secret techniques of Saniya if they travel there. Some of the most talented craftsmen may soon leave the capital, or they will no longer be able to compete.\"

\"Because of the new products the king has brought from the orient?\" Antaya guessed. \"After all, young master Brym's shops have been a great success as well.\"

\"Just that.\" Inti nodded. \"The soaps of Saniya have already become a staple in many public bathhouses of the capital, while many of the wealthier citizens are using Saniya's scented waters every day to appear sophisticated. In private, many also use the south's clear glass, though for now most nobles hide their preferences from the public eye. No matter how good their wares are, liking Sachay is still not chic.\"

For a moment, Antaya stared into the dancing fires of the candle on the table as she put together all her new information. It didn't take the leader of the ghost warriors long before she came to a conclusion.

\"Even if they dislike the southerners, and even if they dislike the commoners, the lords are no idiots. At least not all of them,\" Antaya said.

\"What do you mean, mother?\"

\"They will surely realize the value these products hold, if only for the political power such a display of luxury can bring them. Soon, lords from the north will send their own people to Saniya, to uncover its many secrets. Maybe they already have.\"

Shocked, Inti jumped out of her chair.

\"In that case, we should send word south right away.\" She paced back and forth a bit, until she turned to her mother again, with a face as if she had only just remembered something important. \"In fact, we needed to send a message either way. Just earlier, we have received extraordinary intelligence, something King Corco needs to hear right away.\"

\"More bad news?\" Antaya asked.

\"No, this time it's good news. The best news.\" Inti smiled like she used to whenever her father had praised her. \"In the palace, it's now an open secret that Grand Ancestor Viribus has fallen ill.\"

\"Is the old man finally about to receive his just dues?\" Antaya asked, half in shock and half in elation.

\"We still don't know how serious his illness is.\" Inti shook her head. \"But at the very least, it was serious enough for the hall to leak the information. At this point, the Ancestral Hall is scouring the lands for Medala's greatest physicians, in search of a man who can heal the Grand Ancestor's ailments.\"

With this last explosive message, Antaya felt like a difficult decision had been made for her. She stood up and walked over to her daughter again. With another hug, she already had to say goodbye to her daughter again.

\"These messages are too important to be sent by just anyone,\" the lady said. \"I will personally travel south, and bring them to King Corco.\"

\"Mother,\" Inti began in a weak voice, but her mother interrupted her in a warm tone.

\"No need to worry, my child. I needed to meet our lord sooner or later. He has already requested a face-to-face meeting a long time ago. At this point, I cannot prolong it any longer, or I will risk the king's suspicion over my motives.\"

Despite the mother's light-hearted tone, her daughter still appeared worried. No wonder, since a meeting with her master carried some unusual risks for the leader of the ghost warriors. However, Antaya herself wasn't worried. At this point, she was willing to accept whatever fate had to offer her. And she was eager to see all the wonders the south had to offer.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

250 Secret Operations

Thick clouds covered the night sky of Saniya, as they did on most days of the year. Even in the most lively city of the south, darkness ruled once the sun sank into the sea. It was a time when the city's unsavory elements came out to earn their keep. As usual, all of them were busy at work, when their bad deeds were interrupted by an intruder.

Without warning, the clouds parted and let through a single sliver of silvery moonlight. The ray bounced off the surface of the Mayura River and turned it into a mirror of white. From there, the lights spread further into the dark alleys of the city. As the surroundings were illuminated, all the gangsters, killers, spies and cheats shrank away and rushed to the shadows, in search of sanctuary from the light. For these creatures of the night, even the brightness of the moon was too much to handle.

However, two solitary shadows didn't have the same luxury as the others and had to remain under the searing shine of the moon. After all, they were stuck on a tiny boat in the middle of the Mayura. Thus, they had to accept the bright moonlight without any defense to call their own.

\"Damn, what's that blasted weather doing now!\" Although moonlight was hardly a rare phenomenon at night, Kizco still couldn't suppress a curse.

\"Get us to the shore. Quick, before someone sees us!\" his partner ordered.

While they were flustered at first, the two shadowy figures didn't panic. Now that they were already in the light, they could only hope that no-one would see their escape, or that any observer would overlook them as a normal part of the scenery. With strong, even strokes, Kizco moved their small rowboat away from the three islands at the center of the river and towards the shore of the mainland. As soon as they reached dry land again, they jumped onto the pier in unison. Soon, they would disappear into the darkness like all the others. However, before they could attempt their escape, they were greeted by a figure who marched towards them from the city roads.

As soon as they realized who had come to meet them, both dark figures stiffened again. Yet by the time the newcomer had come close enough for a conversation, they appeared quite natural, like two commoners who had been lost at night.

\"Evening, boys.\" the new arrival said. As his form emerged from the darkness, a bright light from his left hand illuminated the area, and with it, the arrival's identity was cleared up.

His clean, well-cut robes were a dark gray, almost black, that made him blend into his surroundings at night. A wooden stick in a sheath on his hip showed his combat prowess, while the lantern in his left shone into their eyes. Although he looked like a robber eager for an easy score, he was someone even more dangerous, even more nefarious: This was a member of Saniya's new 'police force', a group of warriors delegated to enforce the southern king's tyrannical will onto his people.

Right away, the two men who had come ashore weighed their options. If the police was alone, he would be easy to take out and dump in the river. However, their sharp eyes pierced through the darkness and found a second police man, waiting around a corner in case something happened to the first. With no choice left, the two looked at each other and took on the meek appearance of commoner fools.

\"Good evening, master. What's wrong?\" Kizco came forward and asked, his back slumped to show his submission.

\"What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Don't you know it's dangerous out?\"

\"Of course, sir. But we were surprised by the nightfall. It was so warm today that we didn't notice when it got darker.\"

As soon as he said it, Kizco realized that he had screwed up. It was already the middle of the night, how could anyone not realize the darkness for hours? As expected, the police man's eyes narrowed as he looked around for anything suspicious.

\"What were you doing out there in the first place? Who are you two?\"

\"We are brothers, master,\" Kizco tried again. \"Fishermen by trade.\"

\"So you were fishing in the middle of the night?\" the police man looked back and forth between them, while his hand slowly reached for his baton. In response, Kizco raised his hand with faked fear, while he searched his brain for an impromptu excuse.

\"Ah, no. We were fishing earlier, when my grandpa's heirloom fell in the water. We've been looking for it all this time. We only found it floating on the water when the moon came through, so we rowed back as soon as we got it.\"

\"Uhuh, and what is that item of yours?\" the police man asked, no less suspicious than before.

A moment ago, Kizco had still been proud of the story he had come up with on the spot, but now he began to sweat bullets, despite the cold night.

\"Ahaha, of course it is uhm... my grandfather's...\" While he was speaking in stops and starts, he searched his pockets for anything he could pass off as an heirloom. After all, he knew that he would be asked to show it off to the police man as soon as he named the item. What did he have that could be considered an heirloom, not to mention something that would float in an open river this close to the ocean without sinking and without drifting out to sea? From the start, his excuse had been full of holes, and it was only a matter of time until the police realized.

Behind him, Kizco could feel his partner tense up as well. Without another way out, they would have to take down the two police and hope they would get away before reinforcements arrived.

\"Your grandfather's what?\" the policeman pressed on and looked past Kizco and towards the second spy.

\"It's his...\" Slowly, Kizco's hand closed around the dagger hidden in his clothes. No matter how well-trained these new guards thought they were, they wouldn't stand a chance against a proper cultivator, much less one with a weapon. Yet just as he put strength in his legs and got ready to jump forward, the policeman's actions surprised him.

\"Your boat's drifting away,\" he shouted and pointed his lantern towards the shore.

\"Huh?\" with a dumb face, the two spies looked behind them, just to see their boat trundle away from the pier and down the river towards the ocean.

\"Oh crap!\" Kizco shouted. \"We didn't moor it!\"

Without a care for the police, both men charged after the boat. Although the police chased after them, it wasn't to catch them. A few minutes later, they were back to the pier. All three men were drenched by the waters of the Mayura now. Somehow, they had managed to catch the boat before it was out in the open sea.

With a sigh, the police man wrung the water out of his long sleeves.

\"Okay, I'll be off to warm up,\" he said in an annoyed voice. \"You guys make sure you don't go out this late at night anymore, and fasten your boat properly. Learn your knots, even I know that much.\"

Although he still had a stern voice, the policeman trembled from the cold water and the nightly temperatures. He may still be suspicious of them, but he had been distracted by the boat incident, and would rather get in front of a tavern's fireplace than spend one more second with the two unlikely fishermen.

\"Of course, master. Thank you, master.\" While the two bowed again and again, the police officer disappeared back into the street, followed by his colleague, who had been waiting within the darkness all this time.

As soon as the threat was gone, both spies took a deep breath. However, they didn't linger long to celebrate their luck. After they gave each other a nod, both men followed the police and disappeared into the streets as well. Within the darkness, they would find their secret headquarters.

__________________________

Inside a dark and seedy room, a small door opened to let in two dark figures, still wet with river water. At last, the two spies had crossed through the darkness and were safe. However, two of their fellows were already sitting there, and they were not happy.

\"Where were you?\" one of them moaned. \"Vicao's cell is still missing as well.\"

\"We've been held up. Don't mention it.\" Kizco replied and took a seat himself. \"More importantly, did we find out anything new?\"

All members of their small team operated in small two-man cells. They only met in this secret room once every ten nights, to assemble any information they had collected, and send it back north through secret channels even they were not privy to. At the end of their missions, all members of the operation would be punished and rewarded together, and since they never had contact with their masters, there was no way to inflate their own contribution in any way. With this method, they were forced to work together, whether they liked it or not. At least it reduced tension and improved cooperation during missions.

\"Nothing, as usual,\" the first spy complained. \"It's impossible to get into the main islands. Especially Chukru Island, and that is the one where they hide all the important workshops. At this point, we're simply wasting our time in this place.\"

All the newly arrived craftsmen and merchants had made it easy to enter Saniya itself. However, Chukru Island sat behind Rapra Castle and was isolated from the rest of the city. Yet this was the exact place they needed to infiltrate. After all, their official mission was to uncover the secrets of Saniya.

Learning these secrets would give them great clout with their master, but work had been slow. The new police force was everywhere, and many of their fellows had already been apprehended over the past few months. However, for the first time since their arrival, Kizco had some progress to show for his efforts.

\"Hah! If you think it's impossible, you understand nothing of proper spy work,\" he replied with a smug grin.

\"Wait, you found something?\" his incredulous colleague asked. \"But I thought you just sat around on the Mayura all day. You didn't sneak onto the island, did you?\"

\"Of course not. But a real master doesn't need to sneak anywhere to gain some information. Let me enlighten you, you amateur.\"

Kizco spread his hand to emphasize his words.

\"First of all, what is our mission?\"

\"To sneak onto Chukru island, find and steal the secrets of the southern king.\" \"Idiot, of course that's not it,\" Kizco reprimanded. However, his opposite looked unhappy with his own inferiority.

\"Then if you're so smart, why not just tell me what our mission is?\" he complained.

\"Of course. I'm glad to educate you, friend,\" Kizco said. \"Our mission is to find out how to make all those products that have been selling so well among the nobility in the north. I believe Master doesn't like how much money his warriors are sending into the south every season. This has gotten so bad that a few northern lords have begun to ban Saniya goods in their cities, but the warriors and commoners just travel to other estates close-by to get them. Of course master isn't interested in mere 'secrets'. What master really wants is for us to find the secret production methods of these valuable goods.\"

With their constant production of purple dye, vanilla, Chutwa glaze, glass and soap, the southerners stood to dominate Medala's entire economy in the near future. Recently, Saniya had even begun to mass-export high-quality salt and their mysterious fertilizer to the north. Thus, it was clear what Kizco's master had really wanted when he had asked them to steal Saniya's secrets.

\"So you thought that was some great revelation, you genius?\" his upset fellow shouted. \"Everyone can figure that much out with a bit of thinking. But even if we know that, nothing changes. Even if our end-goal is different now, we still need to get onto the island. They make all their secret products there, and everyone who knows the production methods lives there as well, as do their families. They never leave the island, for no reason whatsoever. And no one is allowed on unless they live there as well, or unless they are government workers. It's easier to get into Rapra Castle than it is to get onto Chukru Island.\"

\"See, that's why I'm the genius here, as you said,\" Kizco replied, unperturbed by his friend's pessimism. \"We don't actually need to go to the island to find out how they make their things. We can find out a whole lot just by looking at the daily shipments to the island.\"

At last, his slow friend understood Kizco's deep plans.

\"So that's what you have been doing on the river,\" the enlightened spy said.

\"That's right. We got the idea after our last meeting. If we know what they are transporting to the island, wouldn't we know what they need for their secret dyes and such? We spent the entire ten days since then traveling around on the markets to see what the king's men are buying in bulk. Over the last few days, we floated around on the Mayura and watched every single ship that left for Chukru Island. Together with that and some sneaking onto ships during the night, it was easy to tell what sort of stuff they've been transporting.\"

\"But all you get is a mess of materials, isn't it? They produce all kinds of stuff over there. How would we know what belongs to what?\"

\"Sure, they carry over all kinds of things, and I'm not a craftsman myself, but we don't need to find out all the production methods at once. From the resources we've collected, at least a few of them become obvious.\"

\"Like what?\" His fellow leaned forward, finally clued in on Kizco's brilliance.

\"Well, what's the single most valuable thing Saniya has exported since their new king took power?\"

\"The dye,\" the slow warrior realized.

\"That's right,\" Kizco replied with his head held high. \"Purple dye. And what else was Saniya known for before the king arrived? Something that's also purple in color?\"

As understanding dawned, his fellow looked at Kizco with large eyes.

\"You guessed right,\" the genius spy answered his own question. \"It's the lavender. They've been harvesting and drying all the lavender around the city, and they've moved all of it onto Chukru Island. Now I don't know how, but they somehow extract the color from the flowers and put it in their glass bottles. Now tell me again how that's just a 'mess of materials'.\"

Even though Kizco had provoked a response, the others in the room were far too entranced to be angry.

\"Unbelievable,\" one of them whispered.

\"That's right. Now you see my genius,\" Kizco repeated, now fired up and ready to blow their minds some more. \"Here's another one: The king has been buying shells from the market en masse.\"

\"So he likes shellfish.\" His fellow's conclusion elicited a sigh from Kizco. Why was he the only smart one in the group?

\"No, that's not it. He is buying empty shells, not full ones.\"

\"Why would he do that?\"

\"Think, idiot, think. It's clearly an important material for their production, or they wouldn't be shipping them over to Chukru. The question is for what? Now, do you know the other name for Chutwa glaze? Especially the commoners call it like that.\"

Again, his fellows showed that they had some basic knowledge and sense, even if they were a bit slow.

\"Shellcraft?\" One of them guessed correctly. \"So the shells are ground and turned into glaze?\"

\"That has to be it, right? There is probably more to it, but the method should be easy to guess with some more experimentation. Once we supply that sort of information, master will-\"

Just as the spies were getting excited at the prospect of glory and rewards, the door opened out of nowhere, and everyone turned quiet and alert. However, they relaxed the grips on their respective daggers as soon as they saw the new arrival's face.

\"Vicao, Cusi, you're late,\" they told the last men of their operation, as the two entered the room.

\"Forget it, and drop whatever you have been doing,\" Vicao announced. \"None of it matters any more.\"

\"What did you say?\" Kizco complained. \"We just received some incredible information.\"

\"No, I mean it,\" Vicao repeated with a grin. \"I just found us a way onto Chukru Island.\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

251 Meeting the Boss

On Antaya's journey through Saniya's old town, she was astonished by the familiar images around her. Although she had never been to Saniya before, it looked much like Arguna did: A chaotic mess of activity, with much of its social life going on in the wide streets of the city or in the open courtyards to the side. Even the ghost warriors with the green headbands could be seen from time to time.

However, while Arguna's liveliness was surrounded by slums on all sides, and always covered in a layer of patina, there were no wooden huts outside of Saniya's walls and everything inside looked sparkling and new, down to the even, seamless roads below.

*What a strange place, as expected of a strange king.*

With a sigh, Antaya closed the curtain of the palanquin to cut her connection to the outside world.

\"It's impressive, isn't it?\"

Antaya turned to the source of the comment, her daughter Tamaya who sat across from her. When she had entered the city, Antaya had been welcomed by her daughter and a few additional servants. This was another change from Arguna, where she would have to hide her face and identity. Now, a proper palanquin would carry her to her master.

The mother was truly grateful for this luxury of peace and quiet, since it afforded her an additional grace period before she met her master, enough time to get informed on any possible faux-pas that would make a poor impression on the young King Corcopaca. Even so, Antaya was more preoccupied with her daughter's choice of words.

\"Tamaya, where is your education?\" she cautioned in an overly upset tone. For as long as Antaya had known her, Tama had never been this sloppy with her language.

\"Excuse me, mother,\" her daughter replied with a sheepish smile, which showed that she hadn't even been aware of her mistake. \"Careless speech is a poor habit that has spread from the king and all throughout Saniya's upper echelons.\"

\"So the king is a careless person then?\" Antaya's frown reinforced her disapproval of such casual speech. While she didn't remember the young Corco as someone who was prone to such lack of propriety, a lot of time had passed since their last meeting. Maybe his time abroad had turned him into an uncultured person. However, her daughter did her best to alleviate the mother's concerns.

\"Only in terms of language,\" Tama said. \"I believe King Corco prefers to speak more freely, without the shackles of form and ritual. He dislikes formality and falsehood in general, and would rather go straight to the heart of any matter. That is also the reason everyone only calls him King Corco. He tends to get upset when he is called by his proper, full name. Even more so when anyone dares to add his titles. 'A waste of time', he calls it.\"

A small smile told Antaya more of her daughter's feelings than Tama's disapproving tone did. However, she didn't have much time to care about Tama's love life at the moment, no matter how important it was to her. For now, gathering more information on her master was most imperative. After all, their meeting was imminent and there was much reason for concern.

\"Since you have seen him so much over the past few years, I am curious how King Corco has changed. Just in case your mother makes any careless mistakes, what else is there to say about our master?\"

While mother and daughter continued their conversation, the palanquin carried by the warriors slowly made its way to Rapra Castle. Not long after, Antaya would meet her master.

__________________________

As quill scratched on paper, another plan took form. Like he had done so many times since his arrival in Saniya, the king attempted to shape the future on a piece of paper. The scratching noise was only interrupted by a knock on the door. When Corco looked up, his guest was being announced by the guard outside the study.

\"Master, Lady Tamaya and Lady Antaya are here to see you,\" the guard said.

By the time Corco looked over to Fadelio's desk to the side, the warrior had already cleaned up the documents he had worked on and put away his own quill. In all honesty, Corco thought it was fine for both of them to be seated together at the same time, and to be seen doing so. However, Fadelio still insisted on proper distinctions between the warriors and his lord, at least in front of others. Thus, he wasted everyone's time and energy. Which meant that the warrior stood up and took his stand behind Corco's seat.

\"Let them in,\" the king called out to open the door. Through the opening came his spy master Tamaya, accompanied by a mature lady who looked like her elder sister. Antaya di Pluritac was Fadelio's mother, but she seemed to be at most in her thirties. For her visit with the king, she had exchanged the usual full-body robes any ghost warriors wore on secret missions with a proper Medalan robe. Made with expensive green and yellow silk and bound at the waist, the cloth flowed around her to accentuate her figure without appearing shameless. Either way, Corco simply thought it was a weird dress for an old lady, since he wasn't really into milfs.

\"Antaya di Pluritac greets King Corcopaca,\" the woman said and went down on one knee to honor her master.

\"Okay, we don't do that here. You can get up,\" Corco replied in a lazy tone. \"And Corco is fine. Those extra syllables take so much time.\"

Not too long ago, the arguments over his staff's formal behavior made him angry every time he encountered them. However, he had grown numb to those of his servants who were stuck in the past. Even they would learn to accept the new world in time.

\"Yes, King Corco.\"

Although Antaya's words were less stiff, her voice was still as stern and earnest as before. With a sigh, Corco stood up and rounded his table towards her.

\"Madame general. There's no need to be formal, is there? When we last met, we were like family. Why change it now?\"

After a short hug, Antaya's frozen expression thawed into a shallow, but warm smile at last.

\"Of course, King Corco,\" she replied.

For a while, the king stared at her and wondered if he needed to insist on more improvements of her stiff performance. In the end however, he decided against it. Since they had last met, ten years had passed. Corco was no longer a young, unfavored prince, and Antaya was no longer the great general's wife. Both had changed a lot, and he needed to respect that.

\"Okay, better. A bit at least. Please sit down, madame. You too, Tama\" He put on a smile instead, and returned to his seat behind his desk. All the while, both mother and daughter sat opposite of him. Once all of them were in their starting positions, Corco turned to the topic at hand.

\"So, a little birdy told me that there's some important news from the capital? What could be important enough for the elusive Madame General to find herself all the way down here?\"

Despite Corco's little complaint about Antaya's elusiveness up to this point, the madame remained calm in her reply.

\"In fact, several essential developments in and around Arguna have reshaped the political landscape. As the largest issues of the day, my personal involvement became necessary. In addition, King Corco requested a meeting multiple times, thus I found it even more unavoidable to travel south. Even so, I need to apologize for my previous inability to comply with King Corco's orders. After all, there is much work to be done up north, and not all of it can be handled by the few ghost warriors who remain in the two northern kingdoms.\"

\"Sure, that's fine,\" Corco replied. Once again, he ignored the madame's excuses. Tama wanted to speak up behind her mother, but Corco silenced her with a wave of his hand, before he continued in a friendly tone. \"Tell me about those 'essential developments' then. They sure do sound essential.\"

\"First and foremost, the war in the north is over,\" Antaya replied. \"King Pachacutec and King Amautu have agreed to a ceasefire, and both of them have come out of the war in strengthened positions. However, most lords beneath them have been weakened by the continued wars, since many warriors lost their lives. Especially House Ichilia has suffered a lot.\"

As soon as the madame mentioned the constant war that had plagued Medala, Corco's good mood was blown away, even the fake one.

\"Well, guess we should be happy that people have stopped dying, at least. No matter who wins the war, it's always the people who lose, without a fault.\"

\"Yet now the enemy will focus on the south once more,\" Antaya cautioned.

\"Sure, but what are they gonna do?\" Corco shrugged. \"They can't attack us at sea since we have a massive advantage in the west and aren't active in the east. On land, they can only really attack either through the Narrows or from Port Ulta, through the pass to Cashan. They already tried and failed that once, they aren't dumb enough to try again without proper preparation. Overall, I don't think the peace changes all that much for us.\"

\"If anything, the peace will make trade and travel easier for the commoners. This will only speed up our efforts in the northern cities,\" Fadelio added.

After all, their plan wasn't a violent overthrow of the powers of the north. No one up north would accept southern invaders as their new lords, even if they considered themselves liberators. First, they needed to win the people over from the inside. Only then could they consider conquest. However, while Corco's eyes were once more set on the future, Tama was still stuck in the present.

\"Even so, there is a need to be cautious,\" she said. \"So far, we lacked the manpower to install reliable informants in the east. Who knows what the Arcavian foreigners are doing in Port Ulta right now... and it's always better to be safe before we are caught off guard. If our defenses are breached even just once, we will struggle to contain the destruction to the southern lands. At that point, all the goodwill we have built with the southern lords will collapse, and then the kingdom will fall apart in petty squabbles, just like the central kingdom has done so far.\"

\"Fine,\" Corco conceded. No matter how much he wanted a clean victory with no bloodshed, his fellow kings wouldn't make things that easy for him, and neither would the Arcavians. \"We've already been preparing anyways, but I guess it's time to speed up our military operations once again. Fadelio, I'd like you to delegate some people to go around the beacon towers and castles at our borders to inspect the defenses. Also, we're putting production and distribution of our new cannons higher on the priority list. And we'd need a new batch of soldiers as well. Can we recruit another two thousand or so?\"

\"Yes master. With the new arrivals in the past year, two thousand should be possible. I will get to the details right away.\"

With a bow, Fadelio went straight for the door to fulfill his duties, while Corco looked after his friend with a worried look. As always, Fadelio was all duty, willing to ignore everything else.

\"Oh, and Fadelio,\" Corco added, annoyed that he had to even mention it.

\"Yes, master.\" The servant paused and turned.

\"You should prepare a family dinner for your mother and sister for later. And after you're done with your current orders, you're getting a few days off. You really need to spend some time with your family. You've been torn apart for too long anyways.\"

\"Of course, young master.\" Although his voice was still serious, Corco could see the gratitude in his friend's face. After all, no matter how much he would have wanted it, it wasn't appropriate for a servant to ask his master for such luxuries as family time.

Once Fadelio was gone, Corco turned to the mother and daughter left in the room.

\"Thank you, King Corco. Truly.\" Antaya bowed her head to hide her face, but he could hear the tremble in her voice all the same.

\"Is there anything else important?\" the king asked, uncomfortable with actual human warmth. \"You were talking about 'several' developments, right? I don't want to keep you from your family reunion, but I'd at least like to know what else is important. Then I'll let you go and enjoy yourself in my city for a few days.\"

\"Yes, King Corco,\" she answered, already back to her calm self. \"The far more important development has yet to be mentioned: Since the start of the season, the Ancestral Hall in Arguna has been looking for doctors. Grand Ancestor Viribus is ill.\"

\"Serves him right, that old bastard.\"

Confronted with his great-grandfather's illness, a nasty smile spread on Corco's face. The grand ancestor was the reason Pacha's central kingdom had so much power, and the reason Corco had so little, at least in Medala-wide discussions. Once the grand ancestor was gone, they would lose a powerful enemy. However, Corco didn't care about his political aspirations at the moment.

To him, Viribus wasn't family, and he wasn't an enemy. To him, he was simply someone who had betrayed his family and his people; someone who would sell everything and everyone for his own vanity, or even just a few more days of life. Even more, he was someone who had already harmed the people of Medala in his never-ending greed, and had planned to rob them of their culture and religion for his selfish goals. For that alone, he deserved his death. That, to Corco, was fair and just. Nothing more and nothing less.

\"Should we attempt to take down the famous doctors in the north and impede their efforts?\" Tama asked.

With all the doctors gone, the chances of the old man's death would rise dramatically.

\"Do we even have the resources for that?\" Corco asked while he considered his options.

\"It should be possible,\" Antaya said, \"but it would slow down our other operations. And we may have to reduce the numbers present in Saniya.\"

\"We can't really reduce numbers on counter intelligence, can we?\" Corco thought for a while, until lightning shot through his mind.

\"No, we're not taking out any doctors.\" He stood up, his smile more crafty than ever. \"I have a plan, but I need to consider this in detail. In the meantime, Tama, please make me a list of all the Chutwa doctors we have in Saniya. Your people have been keeping an eye on them, haven't they?\"

\"Of course. I will get to it right away,\" she answered the same way her brother had.

\"Good. And take your mother with you. After you are done with the work, join your brother, have some family time. Once you're back, we'll talk again.\"

At this point, Corco had already moved on from the conversation. Grabbed by his new plan, he shoved all the used pieces of paper to the side to find one he could use to note down his ideas. However, Antaya still had a question.

\"King Corco. All this time, you wished to see me in person. In the end, what was it you called me here for?\"

\"Ah, that can wait.\" Corco looked up from the mess on his desk. He hadn't forgotten about Antaya's issues, but at the moment, there were more important things to worry about. \"For now, I need to write this down somewhere.\"

And with those words, he returned back to his papers, as mother and daughter excused themselves and left him alone with his thoughts.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

252 Family Vacation

While much of Saniya had been rebuilt since Corco's takeover, the public bath was still the same as it had always been. Just like in most of Medala's cities, the public bath of Saniya was a center of communal activity. The grand construction with its endless closed-off pools and halls of stone had always been the place for all important people to come together and talk business or familial relations – at least all those who were not quite important enough to afford a proper bath in their private homes.

However, sometimes even the high and mighty nobles of the city would come out to enjoy a nice day among the people. On this breezy summer afternoon, two such nobles were leaving the wide front steps of Saniya's bathhouse, their long hair still damp.

\"Haah, a good bath is so refreshing.\" Antaya sighed while she put her daughter's hairstyle in order. Although she had come to terms the constant travel her work necessitated, she could never get used to all the dirt and dust she would carry from city to city. Whenever she reached a new city, a bath became her very necessary ritual, right after she had fulfilled her official duties.

\"Mother, we could have used the castle's bathhouse. There is no need to expose ourselves like this, is there?\"

\"True enough. But I will be spending some time here, so I wanted to experience the city for myself. Either way, spending the day out and about with my children is much nicer than being holed up in the castle, so far removed from the real life on the streets.\"

Although her daughter looked at her with disapproval, eager to refute, she never got the chance. Before she could open her mouth, her brother walked towards the two of them, two bamboo sticks in his hands, both loaded with still steaming pieces of meat and vegetables.

\"Mother, Tama, I brought some skewers. Careful, it's still hot.\"

\"Aww, thank you, honey.\" Antaya grabbed the food and ruffled Fadelio's hair. Although she could see the disapproval in her son's eyes as well, she just couldn't help herself. Even at that age, he was still her son after all.

\"What is this?\" she asked as she took a closer look at the food her son had brought them.

\"It's a skewer with fried meat and vegetables,\" Fadelio explained while he fixed his hair. \"Since so many people in Saniya work outside these days, especially the construction people, a lot of commoners earn extra money by offering little snacks like these. They can be held in one hand and eaten on the move, so they are very practical.\"

Once Antaya took a bite, she understood the feelings of the workers.

\"Well, whatever they are called, they sure are delicious.\"

In Saniya's outer city, the family of three continued walked around uninhibited, though they drew the eyes of the crowd. No wonder, since all three of them were exceptional in both appearance and status among the people of Saniya, and both Fadelio and Tama had quite a reputation already.

\"Over there is the new mansion of Lord Macuy and his family. These days, he as well as his wife and children spend most of their time in Saniya and only return home if an emergency requires their attention,\" Tama explained as she pointed at a newly built mansion towards the city's north, close to the bridge over to Sillu Island.

\"Oh, quite like the estate mansions in Arguna,\" Antaya replied.

Though unlike the mansions in Arguna, here the lords weren't separated from the commoners by a wall. After all, the inner city of Saniya was built on top of the three islands in the river's center, and with all the new industry there was no room for outsiders to set up their homes there. \"Have many of the southern lords have moved here?\"

\"At first it was mostly our close allies from the more remote regions of Sachay, like Lord Macuy and Lord Huaman,\" Fadelio explained. \"But ever since the copper crisis, many lords have followed their footsteps and begun to construct their own mansions. After all, everyone has so many of the crown's bank notes now, and Saniya is the best place to use them. At this point, I'm not sure if all of this is part of Corco's plan or if he's just getting lucky.\"

\"What are you saying, boy!?\" Antaya chided. \"You should not be this casual when you talk about your lord.\"

\"Of course. I'm sorry, mother.\" While he sounded serious, Antaya knew that her son didn't take her words to heart. After all, Fadelio and Corco had been friends ever since they had been children. With no chance to change her son's mind, she switched topics instead.

\"If so many lords have come here, what exactly is there to spend all those bank notes on? Their new mansions would not be filled with countless pieces of glassware or soap, would they?\"

\"There is much more to buy here than just glass and soap.\" Tama's sly smile showed Antaya her daughter's understanding of Medala's vain nobility. \"Even if they are in a place without entertainment, the lords always find ways make their own fun.\"

\"That means endless banquets, I presume?\"

\"What else?\" Tama nodded in agreement. \"Although King Corco doesn't hold a lot of banquets, they always offer something new and unique. New types of food, new methods of preparation and such. Over the past year or so, an entire industry has formed around the recreation foods that the cooks within Rapra Castle have come up with. Some of the more talented cooks outside of Rapra have also come up with their own innovations. After all, with all the novelties in and around the city, the cooks have infinite options to try new things. I mean, Master Bombasticus even came up with an entirely new flavor. Imagine that.\"

\"A new flavor? How could that even happen? Did the merchants bring a foreign fruit with them from overseas?\"

\"No, it was made here in Saniya,\" Tama denied. \"They call it vanilla. It is a strange, complex taste. Floral maybe? It seems like the new taste is completely synthesized by the royal laboratory, though production volumes are low for now. Even so, that scarcity only makes the lords more eager for it. Any noble who can present vanilla at his banquet gets to show off his wealth and connections. There have been vanilla-flavored deserts, vanilla-flavored meats, vanilla beverages... all manner of absurd combinations. As a result, vanilla powder has been weighed up with gold these days. All the while, the servants of these lords scour the local markets for old ingredients to mix with the new.\"

\"How strange,\" Antaya mused. \"It seems like the commoners would be doing rather well for themselves then.\"

\"That they are. Right now, Saniya should be the best place for a commoners to develop in the entire empire. Even without all the innovation, the local law enforcement is a lot more lenient with them than anywhere else in Medala. Only here do they have the chance to at least somewhat express themselves in public.\"

As she looked around on the streets, Antaya could see evidence of this free expression everywhere. While commoners were still easy to distinguish from nobility due to the plain colors of their clothes, they still stood out from the ordinary commoners of Arguna. Emboldened by the lax rules, they seemed eager to try all kinds of new and unconventional cuts, all to show off their sophistication or imagination. Maybe due to the many young students in the city, there were also many young couples about who were free to show their affection without inviting scoffs from the grumpy old nobles.

\"By the way, are you considering any suitable partners at the moment?\" Antaya asked towards no one in particular. Even so, both of her children felt personally attacked.

\"Mother, you know-\" Tama began, but Antaya wouldn't indulge her daughter's fantasies. Not this time.

\"I only know that we need to be realistic in what can and cannot happen,\" she interrupted Tama. \"You are already close to thirty, far too old to dream of an unrealistic romance. I understand our circumstances were special, and so we had no chance to sift through proper suitors for you, but now times are different. Our lives have stabilized and we should have the chance to look for an appropriate partner for you. You don't want to die as a spinster, do you?\"

\"Mom!\" a wide-eyed Tama shouted. To deflect, she pointed over at the second culprit. \"What about brother? He's as late as me.\"

\"Well, your brother is a man, so he has a lot more time than you,\" Antaya insisted. After all, she wouldn't want her daughter to live with any regrets.

\"That's right. You should look for a good man already,\" Fadelio teased, but that only made him his mother's newest target.

\"Although you have more time, you are long overdue a steady partner as well. You need to find a nice girl who can take care of you and continue the family line. You do want a family, or did I think mistaken?\"

\"I don't know if I do. At least not right now,\" Fadelio sighed. \"There's always too much work to be done here, and I just don't think I'd have the time to support a family, and raise children on top of that.\"

\"Who is asking you to raise the children?\" Antaya asked in derision. \"That is what you get a wife for.\"

She could see that both her children still wanted to protest, but Antaya wouldn't hear another word.

\"Enough of it!\" Once the mother raised her voice a bit, both children calmed down without a single word of complaint. \"When I return north, I will ask around and see if any of our old acquaintances have some nice young men or women in their families. If they do, I will help you arrange a meeting. And if either of you should dislike the idea, you best look for your own partners, and soon.\"

After Antaya had put her foot down, the party of three continued on in a much more somber mood. Although she knew she was right, the prolonged silence made Antaya's shoulders draw up in discomfort. While the issue of family was important, and it was important to have the discussion of her children's marriages soon, maybe the start of their short family vacation was the wrong time to get into a fight.

In search of a change in topic, Antaya looked around for something to distract her children. At the same time, she promised herself to not mention marriage again throughout her visit. As she was still looking for a distraction, all of a sudden she felt off somehow. When she followed the strange feeling, her eyes landed on a young man who stood in an alley next to a construction site. As soon as their eyes met, the young man looked away and walked off into the crowd.

\"What are they building over there?\" she asked in the end, and pointed to the large construction site along the Mayura's waters. The large hall was surrounded by a half-finished wall made of Saniya's liquid stone, a type of construction she hadn't seen anywhere before.

\"Ah, this should be one of the new manufactories once it's done,\" Fadelio replied, always informed about the city's construction projects. \"Since there is only so much room on Chukru Island, some of the older manufactories are being moved to the mainland instead.\"

\"That seems like a dangerous development. I thought the manufactories contained the secrets of the kingdom and were imperative to protect.\"

\"True, but that's why they're building a wall around the property. Also, the manufactories we're putting up here won't produce anything that involves core secrets, and we still vet anyone who works in them. We aren't exactly hiring people off the street here. In fact, we are only hiring apprentices of craftsmen who work for us already. That means they need to have a running contract with the crown to even get a word in. These youngsters usually are bound to this place, since their masters and families live in Saniya as well. Even more, they have already enjoyed many of Saniya's advantages, like the free education in the royal school. There should be almost no chance of betrayal from them. And even if they were to betray us, they wouldn't be able to do any damage.\"

\"Hmmm... if you say so.\"

As she listened to her son's explanation, Antaya observed the construction site and the surrounding streets some more. Maybe it was only out of habit, but the strange feeling from before never quite left her. Once again, some of the people in the side alleys around seemed to be observing the site, but they moved on before she could truly confirm her suspicions. In the end, she decided to let things go and mention them later. For now, Antaya simply wanted to spend her days off with her children, and forgot about her work for once. Even so, as the three continued to stroll down Saniya's new promenade along the Mayura, the strange look from the young man at the construction site never quite left Antaya's mind.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

253 Setting Things in Motion

Around the time Antaya and her two children were enjoying their afternoon stroll, Corco was looking through the list of doctors he had received from Tama just before she had left. Although he called it a list, it was a series of extensive documents, so they deserved a closer look. After a while, he put down the papers and mumbled to himself.

\"So in the end it's still Itzali, huh?\"

The documents contained all basic information about all the Chutwa doctors who had entered into contracts with the crown. Their ages, their abilities – or lack thereof – as well as their vices and their level of loyalty were included. As it turned out, most of the doctors he had tricked into their restrictive contracts weren't loyal at all, much to his shock and surprise. Even so, Itzali – the first Chutwa doctor Corco had convinced to join his cause – seemed to be the most sympathetic to his new master. At the very least, he was earnest in his work and seemed to be conservative with his life choices... which to Corco was a polite way to describe a coward.

After he had spent some more time with his own thoughts, the king turned around to the warrior behind him. Unlike most warriors, this one looked rather young, like someone in his teenage years. He also seemed frail and scholarly in his appearance. The ghost warriors needed to blend in with all kinds of crowds, so the man's harmless appearance was no surprise. Even less so since Corco knew about his previous assignment.

\"You already sent someone to get the doctor, right?\" he asked Naoka, the ghost warrior Tama had provided him with as a temporary replacement for Fadelio.

\"Yes, King Corco. He should have already-\"

A knock on the door interrupted Naoka, and soon after Doctor Itzali was ushered in by the guards outside. Visibly nervous, he stepped from one foot onto another as he stood in front of the king. With a quick, suspicious glance, he also acknowledged Naoka's presence, though he didn't say a word and instead focused on his master before him.

\"Doctor Itzali greets King Corcopaca.\"

\"Yes yes, greetings and somesuch. Take a seat.\" Much unlike the doctor's nervous energy, Corco was very casual about the meeting and waved in the vague direction of the chairs.

\"How's your research going these days?\" the king asked as the stiff doctor was still getting seated.

Since they were no longer at war now, there was no more need to follow the army and treat their wounds. As a result, most of Corco's doctors were spending all their time either on research or on the education of their new Yaku disciples. Of course, the research was what interested Corco the most, especially since he could see the progress of the students for himself every time he taught at the royal school.

\"Research has gone well, King Corco,\" he answered the king, though his eyes still flickered over to the warrior every once in a while. \"However, the work seems never-ending. At this point, so many tiny creatures have already been found by the great masters of the laboratory, and yet we find countless more every time we look through the microscope. There seems to be no limit at all, as if they multiplied in number every time we look away.\"

In response to the doctor's complaint, Corco had to stifle a laugh. After all, the doctor was more right than he realized.

\"Yeah, seems like you're onto something.\" The king smirked. \"Though you don't really need to find every last microorganism anyways. That may be a bit much to ask. It's fine if you just find enough of them to gain a base understanding and classify them into different categories. That's a solid basis we can work off of, the most important first step. Anything beyond that is a bonus, and can be done by specialists in the field later.\"

\"This master is relieved to hear king say so,\" the doctor replied in the stiff manner of the Chutwa people. \"In truth, many of the physicians would rather leave the laboratory these days and heal the ill again like they used to. There is more sense in practical experience in any case. After all, I am not a scholar, merely a master of medicine.\"

\"And as a master of medicine, you would love to go out and help people. I understand.\" Though Corco nodded, of course he understood that the doctors weren't really interested in the health of their patients. During the war with the north, some of Corco's doctors had abused their positions to take apart his soldiers and learn more about human anatomy. Once again, he was sure that they only cared about practical experience, and maybe about the money and prestige they could gain from their work. As the king expected, Itzali nodded in agreement, before he tried to reframe his wishes in a more positive manner.

\"Of course the great Chutwa doctors always wish to help those in need first and foremost. However, there is more to be gained for King Corcopaca than simply a few healthy commoners. Since our arrival in these foreign lands, the doctors of Chutwa have learned much about medicine, both about the treatment of injuries as well as about the treatment of illnesses. Yet if this knowledge cannot be practiced on others, all the knowledge is worthless. Without real, practical experience, the doctors will not be able to fulfill their duties once King Corcopaca truly calls on them. Even more, the local disciples also need to go out and experience real cases, or they will never become true physicians themselves.\"

\"Well spoken!\" With just as much fakery as the doctor, Corco stood up and clapped in a theatrical manner. However, after only a few claps, he slowed down and soon stopped, before he stared at the confused doctor with a harmless grin. \"In that case, you are in luck.\"

\"I am?\" Itzali shuffled back and forth on his uncomfortable chair.

\"Yes, and how!\" Corco plopped back down onto his own seat. \"You know, as far as I'm concerned, I would love for each and everyone of you doctors to simply go out and heal my people. That seems like an important service to the population, and everyone is helped by that, just like you've described. But there are two reasons why I can't do that. First off, you and the other doctors are currently developing a completely new understanding of medicine from a combination of my teachings, your own previous experience and the new discoveries in the lab. This new, theoretical framework will become invaluable once it's developed enough. In the future, it will save many more lives than any one of you ever could by walking around the countryside, so it's imperative we get that part done as soon as possible.\"

\"Agreed.\" Itzali had to nod with his master's opinion, whether he actually agreed or not. \"And in this simple physician's humble opinion, this physician has already done his part in the creation of these new theories.\"

Corco's fake nod mirrored Itzali's. All the while, he once again looked down onto his notes.

\"That's right, isn't it? Which leads me into my second point for why I won't let you doctors out into the wild.\" Again, Corco looked up, with his usual smile on his face. \"If I just let you walk around, you'll run away and betray me, spread all this knowledge wherever you go or sell it to the highest bidder, probably one of my brothers. There's just no way I can trust a bunch of guys I essentially tricked into coming with me.\"

\"This doctor is confused about King Corcopaca's meaning,\" Itzali said, now even more uncomfortable in his seat.

\"Yeah, it's great confusion all around, huh?\"

For a while, Corco held the strange tension in the room, before he chuckled in a carefree manner. However, his laugh only tensed Itzali's body further.

\"As far as I can tell, you guys aren't idiots,\" the king explained. \"There's so many of these non-idiots crammed together into a single lab all day. I won't believe for a second that you people haven't figured out how I deliberately offended the Flowing Water Sect's young master just to make life in Hueatlan impossible for you and yours. I mean, the threat from the sect was the only reason you guys signed your contracts and followed me here, right? I'm sure you've figured everything out, and now you not only despise me – uncultured foreigner that I am – you also resent me. Whether or not the move was actually beneficial to you, or the amount of good I have done for you doesn't matter at all.\"

Of course, Corco's conclusion wasn't the result of some complex logical deduction. There were far more reliable sources of information for him, but that wasn't something he would tell the doctor. After all, he didn't want to ruin the surprise.

\"My king, this mortal would never dare,\" the doctor replied, as his words tripped over each other.

\"I know you won't, which is why you're here. Over the course of the past year you have submitted new knowledge into my library...\" Again, Corco looked down onto the piece of paper, even though he had all the numbers memorized by now. \"...two hundred and seventeen times. That's more than any of the other doctors managed. By a lot, actually. Not only did you report every single new discovery you made during your research, you even willingly provided some of your own medical knowledge to the library, even though the information is spotty and sometimes deliberately vague.\"

\"That's...\" Confronted with every detail of his work over the past two years, the doctor didn't know how to react. However, Corco had never expected him to, so he tried to reassure his doctor.

\"That's a good record, all things considered. I should tell you that before you actually pee your pants... or robes, I guess,\" the king continued. \"You've done better than any of my other Chutwa doctors. That means you've been selected for a special, unique mission you get to have all to yourself. Aren't you glad?\"

\"Of course, my king. This servant is eager to fulfill his commitments. However-\"

\"Yeah, I'm sure you want to know exactly how I would know all those numbers, right? How do I know what's been going on in your lab behind closed doors? How do I know if your information has been false or incomplete? That's the big prize question of today, and the answer is right in this room.\"

Although he was sure that the doctor would never ask such a rude question of his powerful employer, Corco still wanted to answer. How else would he get the doctor to fall in line? Benefits alone certainly weren't enough, that much the private comments from the doctors had told him. At first, Itzali looked around the room in confusion, but soon his eyes focused on Naoka who still stood at attention behind the king.

\"Naoka?\" he asked the warrior. However, once again it was the king who answered.

\"Ah, yeah. Even though Naoka has been your disciple ever since you came here, he's actually one of mine. I hear he's a very good student though, so you shouldn't be too mad that I left him with you.\"

Large beads of sweat formed on the doctor's face as his wide-eyed stare refocused Corco.

\"All of them-\"

\"Don't be silly,\" the king interrupted again. \"We don't have nearly enough men to get everyone of you guys three spy disciples. Though we have more than enough to make sure you all do your jobs the way you were supposed to. Anyways, ready to listen to your newest mission?\"

Defeated, Itzali nodded his head. At this point, he would know that any little games his colleagues had tried to play would come back to haunt them.

\"Good, good. Your missions isn't anything hard either. In fact, it's exactly what you wanted. I just want you to go out and travel a bit.\"

\"Travel?\" a confused doctor asked.

\"Yeah, you know, see the world? Heal it while you're at it? I'd prefer if you didn't do so in Saniya though. We'll make sure you start somewhere outside of the kingdom, just so no one gets suspicious.\"

\"What-\"

\"-is the purpose you ask? Well, that's a bit more complicated. Also classified. For now, all you need to do is travel around and heal people, just like you wanted. All your expenses will be paid for, and we will provide you with more than enough materials, be they herbs, bandages, or whatever else. And you will even get a free assistant by your side. You've already worked with Naoka, so I'm sure your cooperation will go well.\"

Confronted with such a blatant overseer, Itzali's face sank. However, there was nothing he could do. In truth, Corco didn't like to force obedience like this, but the mission was too important to trust an outsider with, and the doctors had already proven unreliable in the past

\"As for your purpose...\" Corco's words drifted off while he looked out the open window, towards the north, towards Arguna. \"You'll find out in due time. Don't worry, it's nothing difficult. And if you succeed, you'll make a lot of people very, very happy.\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

254 Infiltration

From the time the sky over Saniya had still been dark, a row of young apprentices had stood at the ready in front of the city's newest manufactory. Now that dawn broke, some were tired and some were antsy, but none of them dared to move. After all, the chance they had been given was special, more for some than for others. For among them were a few special guests who didn't belong, yet were just as well behaved as everyone else.

\"Are we sure this will work?\" through gritted teeth, Kizco whispered to his co-conspirator next to him. \"Because if we get found out-\"

\"Shhh!\" Zirao's shush interrupted his fellow spy before he could fully voice his complaint.

In response, Kizco looked up and realized that the long wait had made him careless. After they had been forced to stand around in the dark streets and collect the morning dew for hours, all of their nerves were pulled tight. Even so, the spy couldn't have picked a much poorer moment to speak up.

After all, now that dawn had finally broken, a middle-aged Yaku had appeared with the morning sun. Clearly coming for them, he walked up and down the line and stared every single apprentice in the face. As the man stopped on him for a moment, Kizco's chest tightened. He rued his own stupidity. Why couldn't he stay calm a few seconds longer? However, the new arrival marched on without a word and soon came to a stop in front of the row of youngsters.

\"So you are the new hires, are you?\" the older man said after another bout of silence. \"Well, if nothing else, you got stamina and discipline. That's a start, but it won't be enough. My name is Cado, and I will be your foreman in this manufactory. That doesn't make me your master, but it may as well do. Don't think you can argue with me just because your master likes you. Don't think you know better than me and ignore orders. Do either, and you'll lose your position at best, and your life at worst. Don't tempt fate, and do as you're told, and we'll get along just fine.\"

Maybe the guy was fascinated by the rare taste of power or maybe he had seen Saniya's new soldiers train in the market squares, but he acted like a military instructor. With a slow pan of his head, the foreman looked at all the apprentices again, one by one. Not one of them would dare meet his eyes. Even the cultivators in the crowd had to pretend submission.

\"From now on, you should listen up and listen well, because I don't like to repeat myself. All throughout this morning, you will follow me through the different work stations of this manufactory, and I will explain to you in detail how to work every one of them. After, I will assign stations to everyone. I won't tell you in advance where you'll go, so you best listen all the way. Your masters should have already taught you the basics anyways, so I expect you to get on by yourselves from then on. In there, you best stay sharp and not do anything stupid. Make a mistake, lose a finger. Sometimes from the machines and sometimes from wasting the crown's money. That's how it goes in my workshop. Does anyone have any questions?\"

When Kizco glanced to the side, he could see the dozen or so fellow apprentices stand at attention, unmoving. One of the green youngsters was about to raise his hand, but an older apprentice slapped it down and gave his fellow a stern look before he could do anything stupid.

Although he wasn't a real apprentice, Kizco had still gone through some proper training in his past, much harsher than this pretend military drill here. All throughout his life, not one teacher he had met had reacted well to questions. They would either consider you dim for a lack of understanding, or a troublemaker for questioning their authority. To his luck, the youngster just about avoided both labels in the end. Now that the vain craftsman had reasserted his vain dominance over a bunch of children, the entire crew could follow their foreman single-file into the brand-new facility.

Just as the line reached Kizco and he was about to follow them inside, his eyes grazed past the opposite street, and the river behind it. There he saw two noble ladies walk past the manufactory. Somehow, he felt one of them stare back at him, though he knew that it must have been his imagination. What noble lady would be interested in a lowly craftsman's apprentice? To avoid detection, he lowered his head and hid his face behind his long, loose hair, as he always did. If they didn't see his face, they couldn't identify him later, when they met again in a different role. Secure in his anonymity, the fake followed the true apprentices inside.

__________________________

With the soft sound of file on metal in his ears, Kizco was lulled into a trance. As the small mound of copper shavings on the table before him grew, he observed the situation all around him.

This was the work the foreman had assigned him, to file down the jagged edges of the newly made copper cogs that would go into the final product. Though the work looked quite advanced, they weren't making anything of value as far as he could tell. The final product was a mess of cogs and metal pieces, which would be transported to Chukru Island to be installed in who-knew-what. Since there was no advanced technology to steal here, Kizco really didn't care about the details of his work. After all, if everything went well, he would already be on Chukru Island by the end of the day. Not to mention, the work's monotony almost made him go crazy.

All morning, the various apprentices had followed the old foreman around the giant hall and watched him work the different stations within the manufactory. On the rows of tables, all kinds of instruments Kizco had never seen were installed. Maybe some of them were new inventions, but he really couldn't tell. After all, he was no real clock maker. And in the end, it mattered precious little. Whatever new technology was hidden in here wouldn't be a big deal anyways, or it wouldn't have been so easy to get a spot among all the true apprentices. No, the real treasure wasn't here, it was hidden on Chukru Island. So for now, he would remain patient and do his boring job just well enough to not call any attention to himself. Soon, his chance would come.

*It's high time our plan got underway anyways. Wasn't this supposed to happen today? Any longer and I'll die of boredom...*

Just like the constant filing had lulled him into it, the sharp ting of metal on the stone floor ripped Kizco out of his trance. When he looked down to his handiwork, he realized that he had screwed up. The cog he had been working on had been filed down so much, and with so much power, that an entire tooth had broken off. For a second, he observed the new, jagged edge with an impassive look. Without a care in the world, Kizco shrugged and threw the destroyed cog into a bucket to the side, where it joined all of its destroyed brethren.

He was just about to grab the next one and return to his work, when a loud shout made him flinch once again.

\"Heavens and underworld, what in damnation are you doing, boy!?\"

Again, he looked up, only to find the angry face of the foreman only a few fingers away from his own. Although the angry man's reddish face soon retreated, the foreman replaced it with Kizco's bucket of scraps. With no regard for the fake apprentice's personal space, he held it right up to his face and jangled the contents around.

\"Can you tell me what this is!?\" the angry man shouted.

Although the metallic smell made his nose twitch, the fake apprentice still replied in a calm manner.

\"They are scraps. I'm still getting the hang of my work, foreman Cado.\"

\"How can you produce this many scraps in a single afternoon? In such a short time, a master craftsmen wouldn't be able to produce this many if he tried. Is this a special talent of yours, huh? Tell me, boy: are you a lunatic, or are you just slow in the head?\"

Such baseless insults made Kizco's eyes twitch in anger. Although he really wanted to kill this bold commoner for his shameless accusations, he still had to hold back. For now, there was still a mission to fulfill.

\"Master,\" he said instead in a submissive tone, \"I'm sorry, it was an accident. But I'm still getting used to the dimensions on the cogs. I've never done this type of work, but I'm learning fast. You'll see, I'll get better soon, and then I'll work as well as anyone.\"

In his head, he only hoped that their plan would soon unfold and he would be released from this humiliation, but the heavens had just been cursed and thus weren't so kind to him.

\"You've never done this?\" the foreman fumed with a wide-eyed stare. \"This is basic work! Sanding and filing the cogs is just about the first work you would do under any craftsman who works with metal! Why would you attest earlier that you're a clock maker's apprentice?\"

\"Because I am one, master,\" Kizco replied in a dry tone.

Although he wanted to sound submissive, the constant nag had made his answer sound flippant instead. At first, the foreman's stare intensified and his red head looked like it was about to burst. However, before long, the middle-aged man sighed like a disappointed father and all the anger left him.

\"Who is your master, boy?\" he asked.

Confused by the angry man's strangely calm question, Kizco looked around for an answer, and saw the various apprentices on the nearby tables who had interrupted their own work to stare at him.

\"It's Master Xander, master.\" Though he was annoyed by all the attention, he still answered as he should. There was nothing to hide. After all, they were really working with Xander, though not like these commoners would expect.

\"No wonder,\" the foreman said, after he had looked into the bucket of failures with another sigh. At the same time, chuckles and laughter arose all around them. Some apprentices tried to hide their joy behind their hands out of politeness, but others looked at him with undisguised scorn. Confronted with such rudeness, Kizco lowered his head to hide the dangerous glint in his eyes. Maybe, he thought, after his mission was over, he would visit a few of these good disciples in their homes. That way, he would be able to take a few trophies with him before he left Saniya for the north.

\"Is there anything wrong with my master, foreman Cado?\" Kizco asked, now in a firmer tone. Even with a fake identity, he didn't enjoy being made fun of. Not one bit.

\"Not just anything's wrong with Xander, everything's wrong. I guess you haven't been with him for long, right?\" Confronted with the foreman's earnest attitude, Kizco could only nod.

Their secret identity hinged on his being a new recruit of Master Xander's. While this made him less qualified to enter the higher-security areas of Saniya, it was a necessary measure of security. After all, a new, fully trained apprentice couldn't just appear out of nowhere when no-one had ever seen him in the city before. His lack of experience would also explain his relative lack of ability compared to other apprentices.

\"Well, no one's gonna envy you for your master,\" the foreman continued. \"Xander's got a reputation. Sloppy, lazy, short fuse... can't even speak the language right even though he has been here for years. He works his apprentices to the bone and teaches them next to nothing. I heard his last batch just up and quit on him a while back. Just ran away in the middle of the night. I know it's not good to hear that about your master, but... he really isn't the greatest. Honestly, you might be better off without him.\"

Since he didn't know how to react to such a frank admission, Kizco kept his head lowered. Although the moment was humiliating, at least the foreman wasn't trying to embarrass him. His tone was dry and without exaggeration. With the workshop's head in such a mood, there was little chance that he would be thrown out today. In the end, he wouldn't need to stay much longer anyways. Their plan was already long overdue.

\"Okay, looks like you know you made a mistake,\" the foreman sighed again. \"But I still can't keep letting you ruin the work for everyone else. We've got to get at least something done on our first day, or everyone here will get a scolding, including me. For now, you can follow me.\"

\"Thank you, foreman Cado,\" Kizco stood up and followed the foreman across the room.

\"What are you looking at!? Back to work!\" Another shout made the spy flinch, but this time it wasn't aimed at him. Rather, the foreman had seen the ridicule in the faces around them. Like startled deer, the eyes of the apprentices scattered and they returned back to their respective work places.

*Maybe I won't make a trophy out of the foreman,* Kizco thought. *He's alright.*

\"I'll move your station over to inspection. You're a clock maker's apprentice, so at least you got good eyes, right?\" the foreman asked.

\"Yes, foreman Cado,\" Kizco said, and thought in his head, *much better than you realize.*

\"In that case, you'll control the final products for any faults and blemishes. Anything that looks different from the sample-piece here, you can sort out and put in this bucket. At least that part you're good at, that much we know already. In the evening, I'll give you all the failures and you can practice on-\"

With a piece of half-finished clockwork in his hand, the foreman continued to explain, until a loud bang interrupted him. The sample-piece dropped to the ground and broke apart, but no one took notice. Although weapons tests were normal in Saniya, none here had ever heard such infernal noise. Soon, the first bang was followed by a second, smaller one.

In a panic, the apprentices rushed out of the building, while the foreman tried to retain some semblance of order. A small smile on his face, Kizco searched through the crowd and found his fellow spy partner, before both of them followed the masses out of the building. Finally, their plan had taken off.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

255 Opponents Far Apar

Earlier, when the apprentices had entered the manufactory's hall, the street outside had been almost empty. By the time they returned back to the light, the roads were packed with people. However, the crowd of Saniya wasn't in its usual constant flow. At this moment, the entire city had halted, and everyone had come outside, to stare across the river. Despite the masses, Kizco could see the two noble ladies through the crowd, across the street where he had seen them earlier. Again, a feeling of discomfort overcame him. However, this time again, he didn't have the time to care about two spoiled noble girls.

Once he had become part of the crowd, his sight followed the countless heads to the east. Over there, across the Mayura and two islands, a stack of black smoke rose up into the sky to join the white layer of clouds up above. Once he had glanced around to make sure no one was watching him, a tiny smile rose around Kizco's lips.

Part one of their plan had been a success. Chukru Island was on fire. When he looked over to Zirao, his colleague nodded his head and slowly stepped back, before both of them left the group of confused apprentices and disappeared into the crowd.

A fire was considered a worst-case scenario for any city. Right now was when Saniya's defenses would be at their weakest. If at all possible, they would use the confusion brought about by a burning city to cross over the bridges and steal themselves onto Chukru Island. Soon, both of them had disappeared from everyone's sight.

__________________________

\"Mother, why are we back here again? Is there anything special about this restaurant? What is there to do here\" Tama asked her mother and boss, Lady Antaya di Pluritac.

\"There is no need to do something all the time,\" Antaya sighed. \"I just like this spot. We get a nice view of the river, and whenever we get bored of the panorama, we can watch life pass us by on the streets. Life has been harsh on our family, so why not enjoy the early sunlight here now that we can?\"

Around them, the birds had been singing their songs since dawn. Across from the street, vendors had set up their stalls to sell all kinds of goods to the workers and strolling couples for the afternoon. Right beside them, the dark gray of the street made way to lush green grass, which sloped down towards the slow waters of the Mayura River. Indeed, the outdoors portion of this restaurant was a good place to sit.

\"Sure, but we have been here too many times in the last few days,\" Tama insisted. \"Mother, I know you are not this frivolous, or boring. Rather than string me along, could you please tell me what it is we are trying to do here?\"

Of course, Antaya hadn't come here only for the nice view. The first time she and her children had walked past this area, she had spotted some suspicious figures around the new manufactory. At that time, she had already suspected foul play. Those suspicions had only become more manifest the following night, when she tossed and turned without sleep. Somehow, she simply couldn't forget the eyes in the dark alleys around this building.

Although she had learned to trust her instincts over the years, at this point she had little more than a hunch to go on. Even more, she didn't want to get involved in issues which weren't part of her official orders, at least not in the southern kingdom's capital. Her master wasn't someone who took kindly to that sort of power grab.

At least that much Antaya could tell after she had heard stories from her children, and after meeting the grown-up Corco herself. Since she couldn't and shouldn't answer her daughter's question for now, Antaya focused on the pleasant scent from the steaming cup before her instead.

\"Is this not a lovely tea?\" she said with a smile.

However, before she could put the city's representative lavender tea to her lips, a loud bang from across the river made her flinch. Somehow, she didn't spill a single drop, something only her impeccable education allowed her to do. However, there was no time to feel pride in her juggling skills. Confused people charged out of their homes and workplaces and congregated into a crowd on the street. Soon after, a second, smaller explosion followed the first one and elicited a few shrieks from the stunned crowd.

\"What was that?\" Antaya asked and jumped out of her seat as well.

\"It sounded like it came from across the waters.\" Both mother and daughter turned towards the river besides them. As soon as they did so, evidence for Tama's words presented itself. In the distance, across the Mayura River, a large plume of black smoke rose up into the sky.

\"Damn, that's an explosion on Chukru,\" Tama said in a very crude manner. However, Antaya had more important issues to worry about than proper etiquette.

\"What manufactory could explode like that?\" she asked in confusion. Although she didn't know the details about all the city's secret projects, she was sure that most manufactories wouldn't contain anything explosive enough to create such chaos.

\"Maybe it's the lab?\" Tama mumbled to herself in worry, before she turned to her mother. \"No way to know for now, but we should get back to the castle and make sure everything's under control\"

Just as Antaya was about to agree with her daughter, she was reminded of the reason for their presence here, in this scenic spot right across from the new manufactory. When she turned, it didn't take her long to find a group of young craftsmen huddled outside the streets. With a frown, she searched for the faces she had seen on her first visit here, and seen again earlier this morning. When she failed to find them anywhere, it only intensified her bad feeling. Shouldn't all the apprentices be together? They looked quite complete, yet the suspicious faces were missing from the crowd.

\"Tamaya,\" she said in a stern tone as the two of them stood up. \"Do you trust me?\"

\"Of course, mother.\" Although her daughter looked confused, she nodded, before she tried to follow Antaya's stare into the masses.

\"In that case, I need you to call together the ghosts in the area, to guarantee no one sets foot onto the main islands. And I want to stress 'no one'. Even if everything burns to the ground, watch the guards and the shores and make sure no one slips through.\"

For a second, her daughter stared into Antaya's serious face, before she produced a hidden weapon from somewhere within her clothes. The ornate pistol was as short as its barrel was thick. Without a word, she began to load, as the people around them backed away from the scary weapon.

\"I hope you know what you're doing,\" Tama said once the gun was loaded, and pointed the weapon into the air. With a short bang, the barrel unloaded its cargo into the midday sky. \"I don't feel good about this.\"

\"Neither do I,\" Antaya mumbled, while her eyes left the crowd and followed the bright white star her daughter had conjured into the clouds. \"Neither do I.\"

__________________________

Like fish in the sea, the northern spies swam with the stream. To make sure they wouldn't be spotted, they traveled apart from each other, though they didn't have any choice in the matter anyways. The crowd was so dense and chaotic that they would have struggled to stay together either way. Thus, all they could do was follow the masses, ever closer towards the source of their curiosity.

Without any trouble, they managed to make their way over to Sillu Island with the rest of them. On all other days, Sillu would be blocked off by guards and only accessible for those who lived there or had business there or in the castle. However, today the guards were preoccupied. Just keeping order within the crowd was already difficult enough. One wrong move could spark a panic among the people, so they didn't have a chance to fulfill their usual duties. Although more and more policemen rushed over to help out the castle guards, they were still overwhelmed by the sheer number of curious spectators.

Like this, the spies drifted ever closer to their goal. Once they were on Chukru, they could disappear into alleys or empty houses and wait for nightfall. However, when they had reached the bridge from Sillu to Rapra, a solid wall of black blocked off the stream of people like a dam in a river.

Right before them stood an army of police, three solid rows armed with shields and wooden sticks. Although people still pressed a bit from behind, it seemed like the stream had lost power at the most crucial moment. He couldn't believe that the ones behind had stopped because of the police. They couldn't even see them.

When Kizco looked back, the crowd in the back was already dispersing under the pressure from the local law enforcement. They had waited in the side streets and now slowly coerced the curious masses back towards the main city. This wasn't the response they had expected. Why didn't the local forces prioritize the fires instead?

At this speed, their crowd would soon disappear, and with it their strength, and their anonymity. Before he would be forced back like the rest, Kizco pushed his way through to the front of the line. Towards the edge of the road, the police men didn't stand quite as close together as they did on the front. Even so, a break through would be suicidal and pointless. Thus, he had to use a more nuanced approach. The spy picked the one police farthest away from his colleagues and decided to try his luck.

\"Excuse me, master. What happened over there?\" he asked in the weak tone of an overwhelmed commoner.

\"Stand back,\" the serious police man barked as he extended his shield towards the spy. At least he still left his stick at his hip, so Kizco was secure enough to try again.

\"Please master,\" he begged. \"Everyone can see the smoke and everyone could hear the bang! Did something catch fire on Chukru Island?\"

\"I won't repeat myself.\" This time, his hand hovered over the baton.

\"Master, please don't hurt me,\" Kizco cried out, as he shied away half a step. \"I really need to know! Please, you do not understand. My brother works on Chukru. I only want to know if he's okay. Is that not possible?\"

Although the police man's face lost some of its sternness, he still didn't budge.

\"That's a real shame. I mean that. But there's nothing I can do. In all this chaos, I can't just send someone to check, and we're not allowed to let anyone through here.\"

\"Please. I can't think about anything else. My brother's all I have. I won't bother anyone. So please. I'll be grateful too.\" As he was speaking, Kizco flashed the folded two-sila bank note in his hand.

If there was one good thing he could say about the southern kingdom's strange new money, it was easy to bribe people with. However, this time, he was bound to be disappointed. For a second, the officer stared at Kizco's hand with undisguised greed, before he began to look conflicted.

\"Excuse me, this really isn't allowed,\" the police man said in a weak tone, before his posture firmed. \"Please step aside.\"

As he spoke, his eyes flitted over to a figure who stood behind the crowd with a green headband to hold back his long hair. Although he didn't wear the uniform of the police, his position gave him a perfect overview over the crowd, and his stance made him seem like their overseer.

*They're really well prepared.*

Despite the fire, it appeared as if the castle still had some amount of control over the streets. As the crowd behind him disappeared, several people pulled wagons with strange barrels of wood and copper through the masses and through the police, who let them pass after some thorough controls.

With this level of security, they wouldn't be able to sneak or bribe their way onto Chukru, at least for now. However, there was no reason to despair just yet. After all, this first attempt of theirs had only ever been a hopeful one. Their real plan was to follow soon, and this time, he was sure to make his way onto Chukru, into the heart of Saniya's secrets. Without another word, the fake apprentice disappeared into the crowd again. For now, he would have to play his role a bit longer.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

256 Fire Safety

While the city's police was busy preventing a panic outside Chukru, the scene on the island itself wasn't the nightmare scenario many would have expected. All across Medala, a city fire would be a major catastrophe. After all, much of Medalan housing was built from wood and straw. Even in Arguna, where most houses were built from stone, if a fire like this were to break out the entire middle and outer city were built so close together that the flames would be almost impossible to contain. Only the silver palace and inner city, with their wide roads and empty courtyards, would remain untouched. However, here the inferno had been contained to a single hall and a few houses around it.

Although smoke still rose from the giant hall, the flames were no longer visible from the outside. The stench of burnt wood still hung in the air, but by now, the sea breeze had begun to reclaim its dominion over Saniya's streets.

All around the giant hall, various holes had been opened in the road. Around them stood workers with special, wax-covered clothes. Soft leather hoses connected the holes to mobile pumps made of wood and copper. As several strong workers operated the pumps, the water sprayed down the sides of the smoldering building, as well as the surrounding houses to prevent a further spread of the fire. At this point, the worst of the worst was over.

\"Is this it? Is it already over?\" Antaya asked in confusion. They had rushed here right after Tama had called together the ghosts and tasked them to oversee the bridges. Before they had arrived, the loud bang and the dramatic amount of smoke had convinced them that half of Chukru Island would be aflame. However, when they had arrived, everything had already already solved.

\"Yes, the fire has been contained very well,\" Quato replied, his voice tinged with a deep pride. Although the newly appointed police chief of Saniya wasn't directly in charge of the workers with the pumps, he still seemed eager to show off their achievements. \"These are King Corco's newest troops, the fire fighting army.\"

While Quato motioned towards the strange workers, Antaya was far more interested in the source of their water. Apparently, her daughter thought the same.

\"All this time, I have been wondering why they would spend so much time on the sewer systems. Is this the reason? They installed a separate water system to deal with fires?\" Tama asked.

\"It might be,\" Quato nodded, even though he couldn't really know. Something Antaya had noticed over the past few days was that few people seemed to really understand her master's thoughts. \"At the very least, the water is one of the reasons the fire didn't spread as little as it did. I heard from some of the officials in the castle that King Corco was already training firefighters when he was still exiled in the Orient. No doubt he planned for them to defend his own people from flames once he returned home. With this trained troop of experts and easy access to water all throughout the city, fires are no longer a threat for the people. Of course, that only goes for normal fires, under good conditions like today.\"

Indeed, the weather had helped them quite a bit. Although it didn't rain like it did so often in Saniya, the air was still humid and the weak sea breeze's direction would have blown the flames into the streets, rather than towards the neighboring houses.

\"You say the fire was normal, so they were a natural occurrence? Not a deliberate attack?\" Antaya asked, confused once more. While she wasn't well informed on the city's internal affairs, everything she had seen surrounding this incident had made her suspicious. Her intuition rarely steered her wrong, so she was relieved to see Quato shake his head and confirm her thoughts.

\"That remains to be seen,\" Quato said, while his serious gaze turned to the ruined hall. \"While we managed to contain the flames, there is a chance an attacker would have simply underestimated how well Saniya is prepared for fires. The fire was set in Chukru Island, which has been built up only since King Corco took over the city. Any large hall on the island is built mostly with cement, and all the wood and plaster on the outside is only decoration, so there is no chance of total collapse even if the wood burns down. There is also plenty of room left between the major halls, and most of them are very spacious and easy to access from the roads. Together with the new fire fighting army, there is little chance for a fire to spread, whether it was laid deliberate or not.\"

\"In that case, a deliberate attack is still the most likely,\" Antaya concluded. \"What was this place?\"

At first, Quato looked at her for a second with no answer. After all, details like the position of specific manufactories were considered state secrets. However, in the end he was Antaya's former subordinate, and knew of her loyalty. Thus, he still told her.

\"They used to produce the army's flintlock rifles here,\" he said.

\"In that case, is this not the most important workshop in the entire city?\" a wide-eyed Antaya asked. Even she had heard of the power of the southern army and their new weapons.

\"It's not as important as the royal laboratory or the foundry,\" Tama refuted, \"but those are far better protected.\"

\"In that case, the source of the fire is highly suspicious. The most important building with the easiest access was hit. It must have been a deliberate attack.\"

\"There's also nothing especially explosive anywhere near the workshop,\" Quato added. \"The powder for the weapons is produced far away from here, for security reasons. But there was a large explosion that started the fire.\"

\"In that case, we should be looking at the building in more detail,\" Tama said. \"If someone set the fire, there should be traces left.\"

\"Yes, it looks like the fire fighters have just about put out the flames. Let's go.\"

Together, the three people walked past the firefighters who were still dousing the surrounding walls and turned around the building, into the back alley behind the complex. Although the hall was a potential crime scene and thus off-limits to non-essential personnel, Quato made another exception for his former masters, even more so since Antaya and Tama had helped him out with their tips earlier. Now that a deliberate attack seemed more and more likely, there was a decent chance that even worse might have happened without the ghost warriors present at the bridges.

As soon as the three of them reached the back of the manufactory, they could see – and smell – foul play.

\"I know we were looking for clues, but isn't this too obvious?\" Tama asked with a raised brow.

Antaya could only agree. Breathless, she stared at the half-collapsed back wall of the building. The cement had crumbled like dry sand and opened the hall up to the elements outside. At this point, only the steel rods embedded in the wall held the surrounding structure upright. Clearly, something had caused this collapse. Violently. The black residue all around the hole made the type of attack as obvious as the strong sulfuric smell in the air. Not even all the water from the hoses had managed to wash away the stench.

\"Someone tried to blow up the building with gunpowder, and they were very sloppy about it,\" Quato determined. Unlike the mother and sister who looked confused at the messy work, the police chief looked upset. After all, public order was his responsibility, so a deliberate bombing attack on the kingdom's core manufactories would reflect poorly on him and his troop. Aware of his difficulties, Antaya was determined to help out her former subordinate.

\"Chief Quato, you said this place was not using any gunpowder?\"

\"Yes, that's correct,\" he replied in a sour tone. Whoever planned the attack had procured the powder from elsewhere. Although it was a fault of their security, at least it was a way to start. \"We will need to check every powder storage and every powder production line to see if anything is missing. So much damage was caused in an open area, the necessary volume is far too great to go missing unnoticed.\"

\"Yes. And you said that this shop produced rifles, so there was nothing flammable inside?\"

\"They had no powder, but they were still working with wood for the gun stocks. So there was always plenty of sawdust in the air, which would have made ignition a lot easier.\"

\"The contents of the shop would have burned well, so long as the attacker targeted a section that worked on wood,\" Antaya continued with a shallow smile.

\"Among all the island's manufactories, this one would probably be one of the easier to ignite.\" Quato understood right away. Excited, he turned to one of the police behind him. \"Officer Killari. Go and find out what was behind this wall. If the area behind the wall contained a lot of flammable products, we know that the attacker has to be someone with access to the building. That would reduce the number of suspects by a lot.\"

\"No need to be so cumbersome,\" Tamaya said, and before her mother could scold her, her slim body had disappeared through the opening in the wall. In a panic, both Antaya and Quato walked up to the hole and spied through.

Inside the room on the other side, the ceiling and walls were still dripping with water, which flowed into dark-gray puddles on the floor. All around the room were accumulations of dark-gray and black pulp, remnants of wood chips being burned into almost nothing, and then doused by the waters from outside. There were no windows in the room, and the door to the outside looked firm.

Or rather, whatever was left of it looked like it had been firm once. Now, the door lay on the ground, blackened and crumbly, thrown from its hinges by some force, though whether it had been forced by the initial explosion or the subsequent inferno seemed impossible to tell.

Tama was crouched down in the middle of the room, and fished a piece of a blackened wooden board from a shallow puddle, no doubt the leftovers of a shelf. With a triumphant face, she held the board up to the speechless duo outside.

\"Seems like this was a storage room of some kind,\" she said. \"Destroyed shelves and crates, as well as leftover pieces of wood everywhere. That makes this a pretty clear-cut case I would say.\"

\"Tamaya, do you know how expensive your dress was?\" In distress, Antaya looked at the dark stains on her daughter's satin robes. How was this any way for a lady to act? No wonder she still hadn't found a husband yet.

\"Not to worry, mother. My salary is quite good. I can just buy a new one if I need to.\"

As she talked, Tama made her way back out of the room and somehow managed to ruin her dress even more in the process.

\"That doesn't matter! What matters is your reputation,\" Antaya insisted, but her daughter refuted her again. While she brushed off the worst of the muck on her body, she answered in a sour tone.

\"No, what matters is finding the culprit.\"

\"Well, we already narrowed it down to all the people who worked inside this manufactory, and people who have access to or know how to make gunpowder, right?\" Quato tried to steer the conversation in a more productive direction. \"I can simply send my guys out and interview all the craftsmen who worked here for clues.\"

\"But aren't that still far too many?\" Tama asked. \"What if there is a second attack before we identify the culprit? What if the search spooks the attackers and they go into hiding in the city?\"

\"Lady, do you have any suggestions?\"

\"Of course I do,\" a proud Tama replied. \"Let them come to us, the whole lot. I have a feeling that whoever did this wasn't acting alone. So for now, the best idea is to wait and observe, until we find out their plans and who is involved. After all, there's no reason to spook our prey early, is there?\"

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

257 Breaking the Ne

Only five days after the fire in Saniya's flintlock manufactory, regular operations were about to resume. At first, there had been an extensive investigation, with police everywhere in and around the building. In the end however, the fire had been declared an accident by the police and any further investigation was suspended.

Even so, the fire had left behind some problems. The building had been in use when the fire started, so many of the apprentices inside had been injured. Some had suffered from burns or blunt trauma from falling debris, but most only had horrible coughs and trouble with their breathing.

As a result, the crown had decided to give their valuable young workers enough time off to recuperate. Though of course, the rifle workshop was one of the city's most important manufactories and couldn't lay dormant for this long. Even less since the city was training a new batch of soldiers for the king's army. Thus, several newer apprentices had been called upon from less important workshops to fill in the gaps. Due to a lack of workers, some had even come over from the central city.

Three such apprentices now stood before the door of the workshop, together with their master. Unlike most in the city, they were quite happy with the outcome of the fire. Though maybe they were not quite as happy with the man who brought them here.

\"Just remember, barbarian: Don't make trouble for me here,\" The master in the front said. \"All you need to do is pretend you're a mute for a day or two. Your friends should be able to get a good ship in position over the next few days. Only three days and all of us can leave this blasted place. Don't blow this for me. And don't you dare forget about my compensation.\"

Kizco stared at his ill-tempered – though at least just temporary – master with a sour look.

\"Of course, Master Xander. I will be careful.\"

*If anything, you are the one who's blowing things.*

Although he was dissatisfied with his fake master, Kizco would never say it out loud. The middle-aged Xander was just as mean, cheap and greedy as he looked. Even after he had formed a partnership with their secret forces, the foreigner had never shown them any level of respect.

*Maybe he will provide me with another trophy once I make it out of this damned city. This is one whose screams I will relish.*

Even worse, the grumpy man wouldn't shut up about his reward, and about their plans, even though they were out in the open, with enemies all around them. Still, there was little Kizco could do. They had tried to warn the foreigner in the past, and as a result, they had only received more sneers and nasty comments about barbarians and savages. His tirades would only attract the attention of those around him, so at this point, it was best to just concede and hope the idiot would shut up by himself.

Rather than focus on the nuisance, Kizco preferred to focus on his work. After the fire, old workers needed to be replaced with new, and him and his fellow spies were perfect candidates to do so, at least on the surface. With all the apprentices in this manufactory out of commission for now, the crown was forced to hire people from the outside, which had finally given them their chance to enter Chukru Island.

Usually, the people on Chukru rarely left their island homes and were always under supervision when they did. Yet Master Xander had never been valued by the crown and had never been made privy to any valuable secrets, so he had become an exception. After he had lost his disciples, he had gone to the main city for a round or ten of drinks. There, he happened upon one of his fellow spies who soon came to understand Xander's unique position. Thus, they had come into contact and hedged the plan to pose as apprentices and then take on roles inside this manufactory once the chance arose. After the 'accidental' fire, the chance was finally here.

Since their clock maker 'master' was working on the special wheellock guns for the kingdom's commanders inside this manufactory, they had been a natural replacement for the injured former workers. Though he and his fellow spies were inexperienced and mostly unknown within the city, some false testimony and a few bribes went a long way. Even better, they were only temporary workers and thus didn't suffer from the same kind of intense scrutiny the regular apprentices had. Now they were finally here, in the heart of Saniya, ready to extract all of its secrets.

While his master spoke with the manufactory's foreman to arrange his and his fellow's places, Kizco looked around and observed his surroundings, like he had been taught by his real masters back home. Although work within the hall had resumed, it was more proper to say that the workers had returned.

For now, the new apprentices had only come to clean up the leftovers of the destroyed building and restore everything to working condition. At the moment, even the roof was temporary. Only some strange machines stood there new and sparkling, clearly replacement for what had been destroyed by the flames. However, unlike the manufactory he had worked in before, there were many stations without anything on them, not even stools. Clearly, much of the important equipment was still missing and in the process of being replaced.

\"Hey, brat.\" Xander's shout returned Kizco's focus. \"For now, you'll help be clean up my work station. Follow along, and don't dawdle.\"

\"Yes master,\" he said and clenched his fists inside his long sleeves. As they walked through the hall, he stared at the back in front of him with malicious intentions. For a second, he played the scenario through in his head.

*Two quick steps forward and press the old bastard against the wall to bind his arms and fix his position. Then I stab him through the skull from below. Leave the knife in case it gets stuck. Turn to exit the building...*

As he thought, he looked around the room again in search for an exit strategy for his fantasy scenario. However, something was strange. Wherever he looked, all exits – like windows and doors – were blocked by at least two apprentices. This one worker had already been sweeping the same piece of floor when he had come in earlier, hadn't he? Even if he was lazy, someone would have said something by now, right? Either way, weren't some of these workers too old to be apprentices? Halfway to their work station, Kizco got more and more nervous. As his tension mounted, he saw two apprentices flash their eyes towards him across the room, a deep glimmer in their eyes.

\"Scatter!\" he shouted, and shoved the hapless Xander out of the way as he bolted to the side. At the same time, all hell broke loose inside the workshop. From behind, he could hear his fellows rush away in opposite directions, as angry shouts and calls came from the apprentices in the workshop. As for Kizco, he had opted for the closest window, to his right.

*Only two in the way, far apart.*

The apprentice before him tried to draw something from his clothes, but before he could, he had already been shoved to the ground by Kizco.

*Strong ones, but still just mortals. One left.*

These people were bound to be part of the city's new police force. No wonder he had gotten such a strange feeling from all the workers in the hall. The second obstacle had already drawn his weapon, a wooden baton. Easy to disarm or kill within ten moves, but Kizco had no time to lose. His dagger already in his hand, his arms flashed and fired the projectile from the hip.

The police man's eyes widened as he jumped to the side to escape. Even so, the hidden attack struck his flank. With a loud cry, he went to the ground. Kizco was already past him by the time his former obstacle hit the floor.

Now the path to the outside was clear. A single leap through the window shot Kizco out of the building, but halfway, something entangled his legs and made him tumble. Somehow, he managed to avoid a nasty fall on his face, but he still landed on his belly. The dark alley behind the workshop was dimmed by a shadow from the man-height wall before him. A look back revealed that a bola had wrapped itself around his legs and immobilized him, while two more hung out of the window he had just escaped from. These people were well prepared, and they intended to catch him alive.

His face darkened as he retrieved a second knife from his sleeve and cut the rope that held him. He didn't have much time. A sudden bang in the distance made him flinch, shortly followed by a scream. Others were waiting for them outside the building, and they were much better armed than the ones inside the hall. As tension mounted, Kizco leaped over the wall in the little alleyway. For now, the main objective was to get away, no matter where to.

__________________________

Antaya looked around the empty yard they had been positioned in to get a feeling for its dimensions. This place was right besides the city's flintlock manufactory, the focus of their operation. Any time now, the traitorous Master Xander would make his way into the building, together with his 'apprentices'. They needed to be ready for that very moment.

While many teams were stationed all around the hall, there were multiple targets this time and they could split up, so there was a good chance they would be called upon as well. She took a deep breath and looked back at the dozen police officers who were there to support her. For such a crucial operation, they carried not only batons, but also bolas, nets and even some rifles, though they were loaded with shot – pellets of hemacite in a paper cartridge – rather than solid ball ammunition.

Over the past few days, they had done their best to restore the burned-down manufactory to a presentable condition. Even more, they had sent all of its former apprentices home for a full ten days, even if they had only suffered from minor coughs after the fire. Since then, many masters had tried to place their apprentices into such a coveted position. However, none had been near as persistent or been near as generous with their bribes as Master Xander.

Since he had been described to Antaya as stingy, such behavior was already strange. Yet further, Xander was considered a loner on Chukru Island, someone who didn't make contact with others. Finally, his mal-treated apprentices had run away from the nasty old man not long ago and had been replaced by three youngsters unknown in the city. Thus, they had found their prime suspect.

At that point, they had only needed to observe the clock maker's apprentices from a distance to confirm that they were the same people Antaya had been suspicious of before. Now that all of them were about to enter the manufactory, they could be held captive and interrogated on the bribery charges alone. Whether or not they had been involved in the fire or other illegal activity remained to be proven, but the lady felt more certain of her earlier hunch than ever.

A sudden bang in the distance made Antaya flinch and returned her focus to the task at hand.

*From the front entrance. That was Tama's spot.*

Although she was worried about her daughter, the lady of the ghost warriors didn't have time to take care of others. Before she had regained her full composure, a slim figure vaulted over the wall across from her position and landed smoothly on the ground. As he looked up, their eyes crossed, for the third time since she had entered the city.

*It's him.*

Again, there was the suspicious apprentices from the new manufactory, but this time there was no suspicion anymore. For a second, the upright lady and the crouched apprentice stared at each other, before a shout from behind her broke the peace.

\"Catch him!\"

Once the police officer behind Antaya shouted his command, everyone began a mad dash towards the fake apprentice, who launched up and charged away, along the wall he had just crossed. Several bolas were thrown, but all fell short of the sprinting target. None of the police had anticipated the opponent's inhuman speed.

*A cultivator.*

As she realized the spy's identity, he came to a corner between the wall and an adjacent building. With two swift kicks against opposing walls, he launched himself up to the roof and continued his escape. Antaya was surprised, but not shocked. Of course a spy would be a cultivator, but it didn't matter much. Now that he was trapped on Chukru Island, all they had to do was remove his options for escape and make sure he wouldn't escape their sight. All the while, the net they had woven would tighten up, until he would have nowhere left to run.

With a determined face, Antaya rushed into the building to follow the spy onto the roof.

Please go to to read the latest chapters for free

Table of Contents

120 Surrounded
121 Power Struggle
122 Mortal Danger
123 Light and Dark
124 Grand Finale
125 Perspectives
126 Opponents
127 Old Friends End of Book 3
128 Bandits in the Fores
129 Old and New
130 Precision
131 Recruitmen
132 Secret Alliance
133 First Invention
134 Cheat Codes
135 Preparations
136 Loyalty
137 Inevitability
138 Pettiness
139 Burden
140 Weaklings
141 Opening a Path
142 Glory
143 Purpose
144 Supply and Demand
145 Unfounded Worry
146 Superstition
147 Splitting Up
148 Pessimist and Optimis
149 Change in Direction
150 Spread Thin
151 Stubborn
152 Underwater
153 Family Ties
154 Loyal or Stubborn
155 Vice
156 Travelers
157 Weather
158 Reunions
159 Turning Winds
160 Antipyretics
161 Gif
162 Plans to be Foiled
163 Plots and Plans
164 Two Meetings
165 Plans and Ploys
166 A Sacrifice for the Future
167 Conspiracy
168 The Fog Clears
169 Back Home
170 Cleanup
171 Exiles
172 Landing Operation
173 Disruption
174 Opportunists, Cowards
175 New Toys
176 Starvation Tactics
177 Chance at Glory
178 Accompanimen
179 Maybe
180 Real Enemy
181 Cold
182 Demons and Mortals
183 Surprise Visitor
184 Strategic Maneuvers
185 Breaking Ou
186 Secret Deal
187 Course Correction
188 Sowing Disconten
189 Skirmish
190 Standoff
191 Charge
192 Collapse
193 Sinister Omens
194 Breaking the Siege
195 Change of Hear
196 Guerilla Tactics
197 Making the Rounds
198 Revenge
199 Final Preparations
200 Opening Gambi
201 No More Probes
202 Real War
203 Counter Offensive
204 Confrontation
205 Failed Ambition
206 Reunion
207 Forceful Negotiations End of Book 4
208 Trade Trouble
209 Trade Trouble Part 2
210 Armistice
211 Always More Banquets
212 A New Era
213 Office Politics
214 Projects and Goals
215 A New World
216 Trouble in Paradise
217 Modern Transportation
218 Back to Basics
219 A Route to the Stars
220 Lessons Between Lessons
221 Overtime Work
222 Freedom and Burden
223 Please Stay Behind After Class
224 Strengthening the Alliance
225 In Search of a Future
226 Change in Fortune
227 Servility
228 Real Power
229 Honorable Battle
230 Beasts of War
231 Two Types of Battle
232 Hidden Smile
233 Back Again
234 Union
235 New Weaponry
236 Shadows

237 New Chapters Coming Today and tomorrow, and...

238 Worthless
239 Looking Around
240 Paper, Also Worthless
241 New Business
242 Government Interference
243 Fight For Power
244 Convincing the Holdovers
245 High Politics
246 Still Searching
247 Catching Up
248 Cold War
249 No Place Like Home
250 Secret Operations
251 Meeting the Boss
252 Family Vacation
253 Setting Things in Motion
254 Infiltration
255 Opponents Far Apar
256 Fire Safety
257 Breaking the Ne