Enlightened Empire #332-364
Author: SociableHermit
Date: 2021-03-31T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 332 - Tricks of the Commoners

Every day, countless people entered the city of Saniya, eager to find their fortune hidden somewhere in the maze of roads. Even with the impossibly fast construction methods of the local workers, they still could only barely keep up with the residential demands of the new immigrants, so all the streets of the city would constantly feel overstuffed. Worst was the congestion around the old city wall.

After years of expansion, the city had long grown beyond its old limits, but the wall was still around. Since it was too much trouble to tear down, the king had decreed to keep it around ‘as a tourist attraction’.

Rather than demolish the whole thing, the workers of the city had simply broken through the wall wherever they had to place their major roads that would connect different parts of the city. Many of these major roads were still under construction, so the few completed ones were the only ways to travel between what was now called the ‘old city core’ and the ‘new city limits’. Since so many were eager to move between the two and there were limited places to go, it caused a permanent congestion in these spots.

People from the core were sometimes dismissive of those from the limits, since many living outside the wall were new arrivals in Saniya, often poor and uneducated. However, to one of the figures trying to force his way through the masses at the city wall, they were all one and the same.

Although he was protected by four burly figures around him, they couldn’t prevent all the masses from squeezing against him. In this sea of people, even they were only mere cliffs, who could barely affect the flow of the current. Every time the man was touched by one of the people on the street, the face hidden underneath his deep hood grimaced.

Heavens above, how can one city alone attract this much rabble!?

Despite the crowded street, the group of five tall men still drew attention. One of the guards at the open gate lowered his posture to get a look underneath the man’s hood. There had been many instances of spies in recent years, so the local forces had become vigilant.

However, when he saw the noble face with the graying hair hidden underneath, he stood back up again and looked away. Maybe he thought that someone of that age couldn’t possibly be a spy, or maybe he was afraid to offend someone who clearly looked of higher status. Or maybe he was responsive to the silver coin one of the old noble’s companions slipped him.

Either way, the noble considered the guard’s action a personal insult. This was a sign of the times, the lack of respect the commoners showed towards those of higher status. With concern, he stared at the streets, and all its people who thought so little of the old values.

Everywhere else in Medala, the people were taught to understand their place in life, and to act accordingly. As the ancients said, aberrant behavior would only cause a social upheaval. The lords understood this, and the commoners understood it as well. Only here, in this forsaken city, did commoners act like lords themselves.

Sure, they still wore simple colors like gray and brown, since others were still forbidden to them by law. However, their cloth was of high quality, shiny and smooth, and the cuts of their dresses and robes were complex and expensive. Some of them were huffing under the weight of all the folds they had surrounded their bodies with. It was pure decadence, entirely unbecoming of the common folk. Like this, they skirted the edges of what was legal, in a desperate attempt to appear important. And their absurd wear was far from the only instance of decadence that the noble could spot.

Others would wear simpler robes, but they would still carry around many new-fangled gadgets. While there were clear restrictions for most traditional shows of wealth, the overconfident commoners here had become creative. He saw several men walk around with pieces of clear crystal draped across their noses, openly flaunting their wealth on their faces. Others wore gaudy shoes that clacked on the pavement. To the sides of the road were the sources of all this decadence, various shops that sold absurd wares no one had ever heard of, surely nothing more than than useless baubles, further attempts to circumvent the law.

A shop that displayed strange shelves filled with ticking gears was especially well-traveled. It looked as confusing as it looked useless, just another attempt of the commoners to rise beyond their standing. Surely, they would meet in private and discuss which among them had the most useless, most expensive metal box.

Worst of all, they were clogging the street, and the stench of their incessant rose waters poisoned the old noble’s sensitive nose. Only commoners would be able to withstand such noise and stench. To the nobles with their fine senses, it was an affront, as was the entire manner of these people, careless and lazy.

They should be out in the fields, working hard for the betterment of their territory, and the family which gave them home and food. Their role was to keep society working, to provide for the warriors who would fight for them, for the priests who prayed for them, and for the lords who harbored them.

Instead, many of them sat by the roadside, in open cafes and chess shops, and whiled the day away. Their actions were surely just another way to tell the entire world that they could afford to do so, could afford to be lazy and unproductive. Really, the further he went along the roads, the more the noble’s mood dropped.

Only lords could travel in palanquins, since no commoners were allowed to be carried on the shoulders of others. This was the very reason he had come here on foot. Since he was traveling in secret, he could not enter the city on such a grand scale. However, once again, the arrogant mortals of Saniya had become creative and imitated the ways of the lords. Since large animals had become outlawed inside the city, drawn carriages were no longer an option for the commoners.

Yet now, they simply drew the carriages themselves. They had shrunk them down to only a seat and two wheels, so even a mortal could drag them around. To the noble, it looked uncomfortable and impractical, but the commoners didn’t care. They were surely happy to sweat in front of these things, so long as they could disturb the natural order.

Even when he entered what was considered the ‘noble district’ of the city, where all the southern lords had come to build their second and third homes, he could see the mortals all over the street, like maggots infecting a ham. There was no reason for a commoner to be here of course. Surely this was just another frivolous provocation from the lowly classes who were emboldened by their unscrupulous king. Finally, the old noble and his entourage reached the goal of their journey, the largest courtyard in the district, so they could finally leave the crowded streets.

With satisfaction, the noble saw that he only had to show his face to the warriors at the door. who nodded knowingly, opened the gate, and bowed without a word.

These were the high-born, with the proper understanding of how things worked. Although they were just warriors, at least they understood their place in society, their value as people in a system that had prevailed unchanged for centuries. Now that the people around him once again acted the way they were supposed to, the old noble’s bad mood cleared instantly.

He had left the common streets filled with common people and was once again among his own. As soon as the gate closed behind him, the man threw off the simple outer robe he had used to hide himself, only to reveal the expensive inner robe of gold and red.

Mixed, the two would produce a copper color, the sign of his family. While several servants appeared to clean up the robe on the ground and to guide away the noble’s own guards, one skinny servant came towards him with a flattering smile on his face.

“Lord Ogulno! This servant welcomes lord to Saqartu Manor. Master is eagerly expecting lord. Please, this way.”

Without a word, Ogulno followed the servant along the paths of the courtyard, past several buildings and gardens, until they reached the largest building in the complex. Even from the street outside, Lord Ogulno had already seen the high roof. Apart from Rapra Castle at the mouth of the Mayura River, it was the tallest construction in the entire city, even beyond the local Pacha-temple’s public beacon, stretching its peak high towards the stars.

Although the house had been built from common materials and wouldn’t withstand much force, its appearance reminded Ogulno of a fortress, combative and powerful, showing the style and glory of the house, as well as its ambitions. The look of the building increased Ogulno’s insurance of success during the talks that were to come. Someone with this much ambition would never allow himself to be subdued beneath another.

However, the servant did not lead Ogulno into the fortress-like main building. Instead, he was led beside it, through an opulent, traditional Yaku garden, until they reached a large, artificial lake in the shadow of the fortress. The lake’s water was a bright blue, almost unnatural, and so quiet that it seemed frozen over. A wooden path led Ogulno to the pond’s shore, and extended further, turning into a bridge that would ultimately lead to a pavilion built in the center of the lake.

“Lord Ogulno, please.” The servant stood to the side of the path, and motioned for Ogulno to continue by himself. From here on, not even the confidantes of the house would be allowed to travel. Only the most noble of lords would have access here, so Ogulno took his steps with no hesitation.

On his path along the long bridge, the shadowy insides of the pavilion slowly became clear. A table had been set with steaming tea and refreshments, with two deep, comfortable chairs across from each other. And taking posture in front of the arrangement, with a prideful look on his face and his hands clasped behind his red cape, was the man who had agreed to meet Lord Ogulno today.

“Nephew,” Ogulno greeted his host with enthusiasm. “What a fantastic spot you have built here!”

“It is just a small summer retreat, uncle. Nothing much,” Mayu Saqartu, Governor of the South, replied in faked humility and hit his uncle’s shoulder in a friendly greeting. “Please, have a seat. I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

The words brought a bitter smile to the lord’s face, but he still sat down as his nephew asked.

“Hah, nothing pleasant about it. The streets are full of rabble who fancy themselves kings. One feels they are just looking for an excuse to upend the natural order and drive us all into chaos. Had I not come in disguise, the mob may have taken to their hoes and pitchforks to strike me down on my way here. For how nice your new mansion is, I do not understand why you would insist on a meeting in this orderless city, nephew.”

“This city is where things are happening, much to everyone’s dismay.” As he spoke, Mayu was pouring tea for his uncle, and then for himself. His hands were steady, but his expression was troubled. “Back before the succession war, everyone was always spending their time in Arguna, but that’s no longer an option after the war. As an alternative, this is the place to be, I’m afraid. This is where all the banquets are, and where all the deals are happening. All the southern lords spend most of their days here now, so whoever is elsewhere is out of the circle. If we want to impact the empire in any way, we will have to start from here, one way or another.”

Chapter 333 - House Ogulno Breaks its Isolation

Even though Ogulno had come to Saniya because all the other lords were here, Mayu’s explanation wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

“Although you may have to stay in this place, it would be prudent to remain off the streets as much as possible. Be careful lest you be corrupted by the decadence of the common people here.” Ogulno snorted in derision, though his warning was mostly out of pettiness.

After all, Mayu’s warning about leaving the noble circle was exactly what had happened to him. Before Lord Ogulno’s falling out with Corco, he had been the one of most popular lords in the south, mostly owed to his personal connections and the wealth of the copper mountain.

Now however, none of the lords were willing to talk to him. Not even his birthday celebrations had been visited in the same way they used to be. However, Mayu didn’t seem to feel his uncle’s distress, and provided a callous answer to his stern warning.

“The commoners are not as bad as you’re making out, uncle,” he said. “They might look a bit full of themselves at a glance, but they still know their place. You should see how they run out of the way whenever they see a palanquin come their way.” Mayu laughed, surely with a certain image in his head, but Ogulno remained silent and stone-faced. In the face of his earnest uncle, the young governor tried to explain again.

“Those commoners are nothing. In the end, you didn’t travel on foot because you feared that the commoners would storm your palanquin, uncle. You travel on foot to escape the eyes of my cousin’s people.”

“Nephew, why does it sound as if you have been taken in by the king brat as well? Are your on their side now, under the heel of that little pretender king just like all the commoners in this city? Has your resistance been eroded away entirely, by the precious baubles he provides?”

Ogulno’s words were harsh, to match his poor mood. All the discomfort from his time in the streets had returned with a vengeance. However, Mayu didn’t seem affected by his uncle’s accusations. Instead, he sighed and replied in a conciliatory tone.

“No, I am nothing more than honest. And I can see the truth for what it is,” the governor said. “Unlike the rest of us, you have not lived in this place, and have not seen what this new breed of commoner has added to society. While educating them seems like a risky gamble, and one I am not eager to repeat on my own lands, at least for now it seems to have paid off. After years, the commoners have still shown no signs of disobedience. Even now, they still fear the lords as much as they always have. Rather, the liveliness on the street is nothing I have not seen in Arguna already. You have been there as well, you should know that the commoners in the silver city also try every trick to display their limited prosperity while obeying the law.”

For Ogulno, the reminder evoked images of the overconfident commoners in the empire’s capital, who were just the same as the people here. Maybe decadence just came natural with large, rich cities like this.

“It has been a while since I last visited Arguna. I may have overreacted to what I have seen outside.” Slightly embarrassed, Ogulno picked up his tea and watched the steam rise from the cup. Meanwhile, Mayu continued to show off his cleverness.

“Further, most of the wealth that my cousin has gained for himself has been generated by those very commoners. They do all the work on my little cousin’s many new projects, be it the fertilizer or the flintlock rifles. Without at least some minimal schooling, none of them would be able to do any of this. So if we want to make use of these new ideas ourselves, we need to make do with these commoners as well, at least for a while. After all, that is the reason you are here, is it not? To entice the other lords to join your cause through the money my cousin’s new industries are making?”

Called out like this, Ogulno didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Instead, he finally took a sip of his tea. Surprised by the complex taste that he couldn’t quite describe, he used the chance to change the subject and order his messy thoughts.

“This is quite outstanding.” Ogulno said with a raised brow. As one of the richest lords in the south, he had tasted many teas in his life, but had never experienced anything quite like this. “Where did you get this tea, nephew? It should be a rare blend from Chutwa, correct? How did you get your hands on it?”

Mayu gave him a strange look, before he replied.

“The tea is indeed Chutwa tea, uncle. However, it is one from the Aketzali region, you should have the same kind at home. The reason it is so unique is that the leaves have been infused with some of Saniya’s vanilla. Although I do not quite know how they make it, the powder surely has been refined by the commoners in the city’s manufactories.”

Before he embarrassed himself anymore, Ogulno decided to shut up and quietly drink more of the strange, floral tea while he thought about his next words. Luckily, his nephew was gracious enough to sit and wait while he ordered his mind. When he thought about it calmly, his nephew’s criticism was quite reasonable.

He had intended to bring the other lords in line with his plan by offering them concrete benefits, namely all the goods King Corco had been hoarding these years, the ones he had been making a fortune on. However, if the lords were to stand up against Corco, they couldn’t justify their actions like this. ‘We want your money’ was a horrible reason for risking a civil war, one that would never be accepted by the other lords, or by their warriors.

Of course, to Ogulno, the move was not out of greed, but out of desperation. After he had been cut out of southern Medala’s political landscape, his bratty nephew of a king had begun to systematically undermine his family’s power. First, he had drawn his previous allies among the lords towards Saniya with lucrative trade deals, then he had ruined the copper market through his cooperation with the Villca House. By now, the once mighty House Ogulno was politically isolated, and as good as broke.

This was no longer an issue of honor or respect. If this were to continue, his family’s entire future may be in danger. However, this wasn’t a good enough reason for the other lords to join him in his endeavor. Them, he had to offer something more concrete, since they were quite content with their current lot. In that case, the most obvious thing to offer them was indeed money.

Everyone could see just how much the southern king was making with his various ventures, not least with the fertilizer, which threatened to develop into an irreplaceable lifeline for every single lord in the south. At this thought, finally, it felt like Ogulno had grasped something, so he put down the half empty cup of vanilla tea again, a sly smile on his face.

“No, of course this is not about the money. How could something as base as money motivate the noble lords of the south?” he finally answered Mayu’s implied question. “However, the deals that the southern king has forced upon the lords puts them into an unreasonable subordinate position. They are lords after all, same as the king. The king is only the first among equals, and not above us in status. It cannot be right for a king to treat his equals like his servants, to force deals upon them they dare not decline. If nothing else, the lords should be allowed to participate in the production and distribution of the fertilizers. For most of us, crops are still the greatest source of income. Having the output of our harvest controlled by an outside force is unacceptable, even if that outside force is our king.”

Mayu thought for a few seconds, but Ogulno could already see in his nephew’s face that he was moved by his argument.

“That could work, but it will not be easy,” the youngster said in the end. “What’s your exact plan? With the benefits and your solid argument, we can get a halfway decent alliance together, but it won’t help much. Just putting some mild pressure on my little cousin is not enough. Corco controls the wealth of the lords with his strangulating trade contracts, and everyone is afraid of being frozen out.”

“That will not be a problem. At that time, the lords will have more immediate problems than some trade deals in the far-off future. I have already discussed this with some other allies. While we apply pressure from the inside, they will apply equal pressure from the outside.”

With a deep frown on his face, Mayu wondered what sort of support his uncle could have found.

“Who, Pacha?” he asked. “He won’t be much help. The northerners cannot break through Qarasi Castle at the narrows. Not to mention, the two northern kingdoms are mostly busy with each other. Why would the Central Kingdom ever start another war with the south?”

A bit troubled at his own plan, Ogulno’s words grew quieter, and vaguer.

“No, not from the north, from the east.”

“From the…” Mayu’s mumbled words trailed off. Realization stiffened his body and paled his face. “Uncle, don’t tell me you’ve struck a deal with the Orientals!”

“Why not? Who else would still talk to me besides them?” he replied in defiance.

As if stung by a wasp, the governor jumped up from his seat, and began to pace the room.

“You can’t do this!” he shouted. “It is madness! The Orientals are not to be trusted, everyone knows this! Not to mention, we will be ruined if this news is ever released!”

“And what do I have to lose? The king, my own nephew, has already taken everything from me! Not even you will support me anymore! Who should I turn to!?”

Shocked, Mayu stared at his uncle, mouth open and jaw slack. After a few seconds of recollection, he ordered his face and sat back down.

“I apologize, uncle,” he said. “You are right, and you bear no fault for your actions. That only lies with my heartless cousin.”

Still too emotional, my nephew. Like this, you will never be a true leader. Ogulno could barely believe that a governor was so easy to manipulate. The previous Lord Saqartu would have never been tricked like this. Though of course, this was very much to Ogulno’s liking.

“I understand your worry, nephew. However, I have long worked out the details, to guarantee minimal risk for everyone involved. In my plan, none of the lords will have any direct contact with the Arcavians. In fact, they will not even know that they are cooperating with them. All of this is remarkably simple. In time, the Arcavians will march from Port Ulta to attack the borders of the southern kingdom. They will lead an army through the central midlands and begin their assault on my lands and others on our eastern borders. We will desperately resist, and then call for support from our king. After all, the king should be responsible for the protection of the borders, should he not? However, who can he still protect at this point? His troops are all bound in his war out west, far away from his own home.”

“I understand,” Mayu said. “The king’s duty is to protect the borders of the kingdom, but Corco could never expect the eastern border to be threatened. His response will be slow, if he shows a response at all.”

“Correct, it is not a problem our king can handle in a short time. Thus, the foreign invaders will continue to maraud along the edges of our kingdom, while the lords desperately defend their own lands. Once the king fails in his duties as the kingdom’s defender, the lords have enough excuse to accuse him of neglect. In fact, once the people suffer from the war and the lords on the edges of the empire are hit hard, the brat’s good reputation among the commoners and part of the nobility will finally suffer as well. With some diplomatic efforts and the right benefits, we can form a league of lords quite easily. Together, we can argue that the king is overburdened by various duties, and thus cannot fulfill all of them. This is not a breach of etiquette.”

As Ogulno continued, a smile crept onto his face. “Then we can offer to selflessly take some of those duties off him, to share his pressure, like equals should. For example, the king cannot be expected to produce all that fertilizer by himself, can he? This argument will be hard to resist by Saniya, especially if we can unite enough lords under us. Thus, all we need for the plan to succeed is a strong league of like-minded lords, strong enough to force Saniya into compromises. That is where I need your help, nephew. At the moment, I am just a shunned and exiled noble. No one will talk to me, much less consider a plan of mine. You are the Governor of the South, and you are a Saqartu, well respected among your peers. If nothing else, they will have to listen to you. All you need to do is lay the groundwork early. Once the Arcavians begin their assault, negotiations for a league will move very quickly.”

After his explanations were done, Ogulno leaned back, content with his eloquence. However, Mayu sat there with a frown on his face for the longest time, slowly measuring his options. This was much to take in, so Ogulno was in no hurry to interrupt him.

“The plan is good, and thorough,” Mayu finally said. “Though it still feels too dangerous. Are the Arcavians to be trusted? Would they not lead their troops to attack us for real once they see our weakness? In that case, we could end up in yet another war, and no one wants that. Even worse, we could be caught red-handed, cooperating with the enemy. These are not other Yaku, they are foreigners, which would make us no less than traitors. Even if the other lords don’t know, we still do. We would be shunned. This plan is too risky, and not something I can agree with.”

Although Mayu’s words sounded firm, Ogulno wasn’t worried. He could feel that his nephew’s refusal wasn’t as final as he made it sound, and not only because of his long consideration. Mayu had always been easy to bait, and the benefits from Ogulno’s plan had successfully baited him. Now, he was just asking for his uncle to put aside his last reservations, and push him into the right direction. His uncle was happy to oblige.

“Not to worry, nephew,” Ogulno began. “If the foreigners want to start a real war, let them. When have the lords of Sachay ever needed the help of some king to defend our own lands? We are not afraid of them, not at home. Just watch them lug all of their supplies across the midland hills of Sachay. How many men can they supply like this, a few thousand at most? Even without our mighty king’s help, those are numbers our warriors can repel with ease. As for the threat of the plan’s exposure? That is a problem that only concerns me, and me alone. I will be the only lord with any contact to the Arcavians, and after today, there is no more need for us to talk. You will organize the league of lords, while I will handle the rest. Aside from your servants, no one knows that I have come here, so there is no connection between us, and no reason to blame you for anything. If anyone ever finds out about my involvement with the foreigners, the punishment will be mine and mine alone.”

This time, Mayu really looked tempted, shifting around on his chair a bit. Ogulno decided to use his trump card, for one final push.

“In the end, you do not want to submit your family’s position in the south to that little king, do you?” He asked. “And our chances of success are good. While the king wastes all his time and resources on his wifey’s new kingdom, we can operate safely, without his knowledge. By the time the war breaks out and the league forms, he may rush back from his wife’s kingdom to take care of his own. But by then, everything will be too late.”

As Ogulno spoke, Mayu retained a thoughtful expression at first, as he weighed his uncle’s words. However, at the mention of Queen Sumaci, his hands clenched and his face darkened. The loss of his love had been a sharp hit to his pride, Ogulno was well aware of that. Reminding him of the pain Corco’s betrayal had inflicted on him would only incite the prideful and emotional governor.

Sometimes, Ogulno was frightened by his own wisdom. With his ego stimulated and lured by the benefits, Mayu’s support was as good as won. At last, Ogulno’s bad mood from his walk through the city disappeared. Soon, the haughty commoners would return to reality, and learn to be humble again. Soon, their false bravado would fall apart, and the world would revert back to its natural order.

Chapter 334 - Unhappy Clergy

Out of Corco’s view, trouble was brewing in the country of Medala. For now though, the king was still happily dealing with what he dealt with most happily: Country development. After his return from Rasacopa, he first ordered an increase in Artemisinin production and dealt with the resulting bottlenecks in terms of manpower, raw materials, and finances.

After he managed to scrounge up some additional funds, he locked himself into his study and did administrative work for a few days, time enough for him to catch back up on his regular responsibilities, and also time enough to get the treasury off his back about cost cutting. With his schedule finally cleared, he had the chance to check out some of the new, major construction projects he had ordered a while ago.

The first and simplest one was also closest at hand. So Corco checked out the world’s first lightning rod, built atop Rapra Castle. Over the years, the castle, as the tallest structure of the city by far, had attracted its fair share of lightning. There were several recorded instances of fires caused by it, so there was good reason to install a lightning rod here.

While Corco didn’t expect the entire castle to burn down from a single lightning strike, he would rather avoid giving his political opponents the convenience of a ‘bad omen’ to stoke flames with. On top of that, the lightning rod could also be used for early experiments with electricity. Despite their current use of primitive batteries, they were still very far away from proper electrical grids, but it was never too early to get started on fun new inventions, at least not as far as Corco was concerned.

Although he checked out the new installation, it really wasn’t anything impressive. What would be impressive about a thin metal wire sticking out of the castle roof after all? He should have known what it would look like beforehand, but without the corresponding lightning to serve up some special effects, it really was a dire disappointment. Thus, the king made his way out of the castle and into the streets of his developing city.

To lift his mood, he decided to inspect the university instead. While it was still under construction, it was fairly far along already, so there would be much to see and much to plan. Best of all, there would be many places to be inspired by.

On his way to the building site in the south of the city, he even met an old acquaintance, someone he could load his disjointed thoughts onto. Because of his status and his known connection to the king, the man was led through the group of guards around Corco, until he stood in front of him.

“King Corco!” the thin priest said. “What a coincidence, I was just about to visit you.”

“Well, you’ve visited me now, Master Watachay,” Corco joked. “Anything specific you want from me, now that your visit is here?”

Over these years, the young priest had become a bit of a messenger between the king and the higher ranking Pacha priests. They had many fruitful conversations during that time. Of course, due to the nature of their positions, not a few of them had been related to religion in Saniya, and the stances of the Pacha priests at large.

“Ah, yes. In fact, I was searching for you, on behalf of master.”

“The old Grand Reader?” Corco remembered the old man in the site of pilgrimage atop Mount Urquna. Not long after Corco’s return to Medala, he had read his future and warned him of an incoming catastrophe. “That’s not much of a surprise. What does he want this time?”

“That is… difficult to say.” The young priest looked at the crowd of people around them, hesitation in his eyes. Finally, he said, “May we go elsewhere? This may be a more private conversation than usual.”

“Sure, just follow me to inspect the new university. I’m sure you’ll like it.” Before the priest had even replied, some of Corco’s guards were already off to organize a palanquin for him. He still didn’t like traveling in the things, but if Watachay wanted a private conversation, and if Corco didn’t want to waste any time, this would be the way to do it.

“Of course, King,” the priest replied.

Not long after, the two sat in the palanquin, and were once again on their way to the soon-to-be university. Outside, the packed streets were slowly passing by. It wouldn’t be long until they passed through all of them and reached the city limits, where the university was being built, so Corco decided to wrap up the conversation quickly.

“Now then, what do you want to tell me?”  He motioned towards the priest.

“Again, King Corco, it is not me who wants to tel you anything. I am merely a messenger, sent by my master, on behest of the high priests and grand readers in the north.”

“Since you keep circling around the topic, it does sound pretty dramatic. So that’s fun. What’s the actual issue that you can’t just say it out loud?”

Again, the priest was silent for a long time, but Corco just stared at him until he started talking.

“This time, the message is about the use of the new thermometers in Saniya’s schools,” Watachay said finally.

“They’re not that new, are they?” the king asked back in surprise. In fact, they had developed thermometers years ago already. How were they an issue all of a sudden?

“No, but before, they were only used in the royal laboratories, and not anywhere outside. Up until now, they were hidden away from the general public, being rare, and specialized items. Now, they are spreading to the schools, and soon, they are bound to spread to the shops as well. The commoners will begin to buy them in bulk.”

“Okay,” a confused Corco concluded, “now you need to explain to me how that’s a bad thing.”

Again, the priest paused, but at least his pauses were getting shorter.

“Am I correct in the assumption that the thermometers are made with quicksilver?”

At last, Corco understood the problem, but he really couldn’t believe that the priests could be this petty.

“Don’t tell me this is some ‘holy metal’ nonsense.”

“While the priests have agreed that the imperial family is allowed to own quicksilver for its private use, the emperors and their families have only ever used small quantities. No one has ever done anything like this, spreading the holy metal to the masses in the form of tools. My master, and many other grand readers and high priests, have voiced concern that this may trivialize the divine powers of the quicksilver in the eyes of the common folk.”

“Well, then you find me another fluid that greatly changes its volume with slight temperature changes, doesn’t stick to glass and is readily available. Then I’ll stop using the mercury. I’ll wait here, take your time.”

“Then… could its use not at least be somewhat restricted? If you could take a first step back, that would be something I could bring back to my master. This way, they could make concessions as well, without looking weak.”

What do priests need to look strong for? Their political ambitions are more and more out of hand.

Now that another conflict with another group seemed unavoidable, a sigh escaped Corco. This time, the conflict wouldn’t be with any outside forces, nor with his brothers, or his fellow lords. This time, the trouble seemed to come from the priests themselves.

Although Corco’s own faith had suffered a bit with his new knowledge, he had never truly stopped believing in the Divines, despite his best attempts. In the end, he was still an adherent of Pacha, and didn’t want to force a conflict that would put himself opposite its representatives. Thus, he tried to explain his stance to Watachay.

“You’re maybe not aware of this, since you’re not a technical person. But precise temperature control is important in many fields, far more important than you may think. I’m not only talking about the sciences, like chemistry, here, though they certainly matter the most in this regard. Many ordinary people can benefit greatly from the use of thermometers. Getting exact temperature readings at high seas, to estimate and predict the weather and climate on a journey, is crucial, even more now that we have taken to the seas more than ever before in our history. It’s also important for farmers, to predict harvests and make proper adjustments at the right time. You have no idea by how much harvests can improve with the proper temperature control at the right time. How much can the lives of the Yaku be improved by larger harvests alone? Ever since we’ve introduced fertilizer, you should’ve seen the results yourself. With better measurements and more precision, almost every aspect of human life can be improved. Temperature is a big part of that. I won’t deny my people relief, just because some old guys up north are worried about their status.”

Although he started with a calm tone, Corco got more and more riled up as he talked. By now, he had already gotten over his religious inhibitions. More and more, he realized that it wasn’t the heavens themselves that opposed him, nor was it the entire Pacha priesthood. More likely than not, the ones who had sent Watachay to do their dirty work were the same overambitious priests who had interfered in his father’s succession several years earlier.

“King Corco, that seems a bit harsh,” Watachay tried to defend his master, but Corco would have none of it.

“So am I wrong then? The priests have always relied, at least in part, on mysticism to get the people to follow their words. I’m not talking about everyone of course, but priests are people too, and some of them are greedy for money or power, while others might be vengeful. To them, this is just an issue because they will stand to lose one of their mysterious symbols they can use to fool the public. A proper priest, on the other hand, wouldn’t need cheap tricks like that, because they speak on behalf of what’s right and proper. Their word alone carries enough force, so why cling to these old symbols?”

“Symbolism is important for tradition after all, and tradition is what binds us together, and what puts us above mere beasts.”

“Does that view come from you or from your master?”

“King Corco, I am as troubled by my master’s demand as you are, but with the recent sinister prophecies from several grand readers, as well as the quickly changing times, the conservative elements among the priests have been gaining voice.”

“But a bit of symbolism won’t make a bit of difference in whatever future they’re reading. I mean, the changes to this country are coming one way or another. Since they can’t be stopped, won’t it be better to embrace those changes? Rather than complain about the loss of some mysterious symbol, why not highlight the importance the holy metal will now have in the regular lives of the people? This is even in line with the proper faith. What would be a better tool to measure the nature of Pacha’s lands with than Pacha’s holy metal?”

Although Corco thought his spin on the story was clever, the priest still looked unconvinced, so he tried again.

“This wouldn’t be the first time the Pacha faith has benefited greatly from progress,” the king said. “This has happened in several other areas already. Improved optics have greatly increased our mastery and understanding of planetary bodies, for one. The priests didn’t forget about all those giant telescopes I gifted them, right? Didn’t want anything in return, except their continued dedication to astronomy. This mercury business is just a small issue compared to that, so can’t we let it go? There’s other stuff too. Some priests have been spreading their private meditations around in public, through the use of printing presses. It’s not like a minor change in technology is in any way a threat to faith. All you need is some flexibility to go with the times, and the Pacha faith only stands to benefit.”

Corco’s ramblings had only been semi-coherent, forming his point as he spoke, but it seemed to hit the right string with Watachay. Under enthusiastic nods, the priest replied.

“That is what I said to master. I’ve made use of the presses myself, and to good effect. I have even heard faithless men debate my words after I had nailed them on their tavern doors, though they did not use the kindest words. Of course master did not approve, and scolded me vain for it.”

“Well, I think you’re just being reasonable,” Corco said. “You think you have something to tell to the world. Why would you not want as many as possible to hear that message?”

“However, many priests won’t see it that way. And it’s not just those less noble among us,” Watachay preempted Corco’s argument. “Many of the priests, especially the older ones and ones from the east, prefer stability over the potential benefits of progress. Why change what has worked for centuries? That is what they would think. This is an opinion that is especially popular among the high priests and grand readers. With the most important messengers of faith, your reputation has soured quite a bit. You may be the least favored among the triumvirate kings at the moment.”

“Wait, just because of the mercury thing?” Corco was shocked by the revelation. “Pacha’s ignored religion all his life, despite his name. Ever since my return that guy has only ever cared about power, and he’s openly fought the priests for it. He’s even struck deals with faithless outsiders. And Amautu has even switched religions, he’s not even a proper Pacha adherent anymore with his Chutwa scholar nonsense. How am I the worst?”

“If only this was an issue of the quicksilver alone, their reactions would not have been this harsh. However, there was also the issue of the cartographers who had to work with traveling folk, against their wishes. And what’s more, they were forced to erase the Eternal Ice from the maps. Erasing a site of pilgrimage from the records like that has made many priests unhappy.”

“Well, it wasn’t me who melted the ice. Even if there’s been a few disagreements, I’m still better than my brothers, aren’t I?”

“But the other kings have never promised anything to the high priests. Many priests have expected great things from you, so many have been disappointed by your cold attitude in these cases. By comparison, no one has ever had any trust in the northern kings, so they could not be disappointed. And then there was the issue of the judges as well, which has been seen as the biggest breech of promise. Phasing priests out of the courts, and punishing some heavily for their judgments, has largely been seen as a slap in the face for many.”

“You can’t be blaming me for that one, right?” More and more, Corco was in disbelief over the nonsense opinions of the priests. “How can I keep those judges on when they can’t even follow the letter of the law? Have you read the reports of their interrogations? Some of them weren’t even trying to hide their contempt for the kingdom’s laws. I can’t let a judge who’s not interested in fair judgment keep his position, and I can’t pardon them either. Otherwise, other judges will just do the same, abusing the power of their office for their own purposes. They’ve been warned before, so they really should have known better.”

“I understand all this, but…” A deep sigh escaped the priest. “My master and his peers are far away from Saniya, and they only see the results of your actions. While their views are flawed, they cannot be ignored. This is not a simple conflict to resolve, and I understand that. And I myself do not blame you, King Corco. Ever since you played that piece on the koto atop Mount Urquna and ignited my own passion for music, I have considered you half my master. However, my true master now has developed a serious distaste for you. And he is not the only one. Many of the older priests are very upset, and consider you a traitor to their cause. I did not come with any wise advice, or clever solution, I just came to talk, to see if a conflict could be avoided somehow.”

With Watachay’s final words and his almost pleading expression, the truth finally dawned on Corco.

“No one ordered you to talk to me,” he said. “You came here by yourself, right?”

“I simply cannot believe that the differences between the two sides are all that large,” a frustrated Watachay said. “We have had many conversations, you and I. And I understand that you yourself are a deeply religious man.”

“I wonder about that.”

“You are, even though you may not express your faith in the same way as most. Nevertheless, I know that you value the Pacha faith, just like you value the Yaku traditions. If only both sides in this conflict could take a step back, this entire issue would be easy to resolve, I’m sure.”

As the priest spoke, the palanquin stopped. A look outside told Corco that they had arrived at their destination. Although they were still talking, the king was happy for an excuse to end their talks before they began to run in circles, or get at each other’s throat.

“Well, for now, there’s no use talking about this. Because this doesn’t only depend on me,” he concluded. “I don’t mind having a conversation about the place of the Pacha faith in my kingdom’s future, but you said yourself that the other priests didn’t send you. They don’t even want to talk to me, even though they have such a big problem with me. I wasn’t even aware that there was a problem until you told me. For now, I’ll have to order my thoughts, so I’ll consider this issue once we get back from the inspection. Then I’ll give you an answer, if I can come up with one. But first, how about we simply spend some time appreciating all the good our progress has brought, despite the trouble it always seems to make. We’re already here. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to the future of the world’s education, the shining beacon of enlightenment: Sohcahtoa University.”

Without waiting for the priest’s reply, Corco left the palanquin.

Chapter 335 - Modern Education

Once the topic of separate universities was breached, Corco got excited again. After all, this was one specific area where he applied some of his own ideas to the educational system of the other world. Although his plans were unproven, he felt confident. After all, Saniya’s school curriculum was also markedly different from the other world’s school system.

For one, memorization was considered less important, and there was a greater focus on teaching students how to research and learn for themselves, from mnemonic techniques to teaching them how to seek out knowledge and how to navigate a library. Further, students were taught many practical skills to prepare them for public life in a modernizing society.

This included their rights and obligations as citizens of Saniya, from teaching the youngsters how the new tax system worked, to teaching them how to apply for work and how to start their own business. So far, results had been very encouraging, so Corco was ready to try his hand at the university system as well. Splitting the campus in three was the first step in that regard.

“First is this place, SohCahToa University,” Corco explained to Wachatay. “This is where most of the magic happens, so to speak. In this university, we’re teaching and researching all empirical sciences, as well as anything else empirical science needs to properly function, the bedrock those sciences are built on. That includes the basics, like biology, chemistry and physics, but also mathematics, logic, and, of course, scientific methodology. In the future, other fields may join this club and be placed inside this campus, but only if they fulfill the basic requirement of being based in, or necessary for, empirical research. The new field of cultivation studies is already trying to operate like that, but for now we really don’t have enough concrete results to teach it to anyone else.”

At the moment , Corco had high hopes for the future of several fields, but none was more intriguing to him than the study of this world’s cultivation systems, and their effect on the human body. At the moment, they were still just conducting limited experiments on some of the smaller islands around Saniya. But since they were using an empirical approach, Corco was expecting the first, proper results very soon.

Maybe once the situation in the Verduic Sea had stabilized a bit, he could focus more on this area. Gaining new knowledge that was exclusive to this world was an exciting prospect for Corco.

“I don’t quite understand, but it does sound important,” the priest vaguely replied.

“It is the most important university, as far as I’m concerned. That’s why I’m still hoping that economics will end up here at some point in time. Maybe political science as well. Really, as many fields as we can get in here, following the precepts of empirical study, the better for our future. Only like this can we find the most objective truths about the world. I’ve even made space for a retest department, that will be paid to do nothing but repeat studies from other departments to check the results. To show the importance of the knowledge gained here, the graduates of this school will receive degrees, allowing them to call themselves doctors of their fields in public, meaning they are experts in at least one empirical science… sort of. It’s complicated.”

“Then I will not ask.”

Although Wachatay already looked a bit overwhelmed, the king rarely found someone who talked so little and listened so well. Maybe that was because he was a priest and was thus used to listen to the troubles of all kinds of people. Either way, Corco didn’t care so long as he could keep introducing the details of his newest project.

“Anyways, the second university will be built to the south of here, closer to the farming area outside of the city, name to be determined. I’ll call this a vocational academy, which will teach less theory. Instead, this school will focus more on practical skills that the students will need to work in certain professions. Of course, compared to the usual craftsmen, those profession will also require vast theoretical knowledge. Otherwise, there’d be no point in teaching them at a university. That includes lawyers, judges, doctors, and architects, among others. Over there, we’ll also educate teachers for our schools. Beyond simply teaching them the skills of their profession, there will also be some very important research housed here. Medical research will be a big focus, obviously, but there will also be a strong focus on engineering and agriculture, which be well-funded, so long as the people in the treasury stop moaning. Oh, since it’s a vocational school, the people studying there will earn the title of ‘Master’ once they graduate, proving their mastery over their specific field. It’s similar to regular master craftsmen, except it’s an official title that will be registered in the kingdom’s archives, to prove their higher education. Ah, also, since this school obviously draws a lot from the theoretical knowledge of the other two universities, it’s location is right between them.”

While Corco was talking, Wachatay took a seat on a stone bench by the wayside, close to the soon-to-be-built printing house that would be tasked with printing all the research papers of the university. His breath was heavy, though he pretended like nothing was wrong. Sometimes, Corco forgot that the priests were only mortals without cultivation. In his excitement, he had gone his usual speed and forced the priest to keep up. Since it was a bit of an embarrassment for both sides, they both decided to ignore it.

“In that case, I suspect the third school teaches rhetoric? After all, how else could the vocational school teach lawyers?” the priest asked after he had caught his breath a bit.

“That’s the idea. The third academy’s name will be Amaya Academy of Arts and Culture. It’ll be south-west of here, and it will house any non-empirical fields of study that aren’t directly teaching vocational skills. For now, that includes almost everything you can imagine. From linguistics and rhetoric, to anthropology, the study of culture, history, and archaeology. Music, some strands of philosophy, political science, economics, and a number of other subjects. Of course, these fields are important as well, and will receive the funding they deserve, but they are not searching for truths after all. They’re either normative, trying to imagine a better world, or they’re… lexical I guess? Trying to faithfully record everything a specific subject has to offer. They hold great value to society as a whole, with the ability to lead us down the right path and imbue values and ideals of a modern, enlightened society into the people, but their value to society is less less direct than that of empirical sciences, and they’re a tool that can be abused as well, so they’re distinguished from the empirical academy. The students here will receive degrees as ‘Scholars’, similar to Chutwa’s example, where scholars are also mostly masters of language, culture, and politics. Though of course, all the placements of various fields are still fluent at the moment, and may change as the disciplines develop further.”

“And why would it be important to distinguish these fields so much? What is the benefit for a field to join one campus over another?”

“Well, funding for one. The empirical academy will get much higher research grants than the others, though it depends on the individual field and project. Even if I’m a music lover, I simply can’t take public funds and allocate them mostly to the culture academy, when the benefits of medical or chemistry research have such a strong impact on the lives of people. Also, the students who graduate from the different campuses will have different skill sets, which is reflected in their titles. For example, a Master from the vocational university will be able to start work in his field on day one, while someone from other universities may have broader theoretical knowledge and may be able to work in more fields as a result. But they would have to be trained first, to do whatever job they’re hired for. For company owners, that’s an important distinction to make. Most importantly, the authority on truth between different schools would be different as well. Just imagine, someone from the empirical school and someone from the Amaya Academy disagreed on something, like a physicist on one side making a statement about the world, and a philosopher imagining how the world ought to be. Now imagine they were given equal weight by the uneducated. That could cause big trouble in society, and attract all kinds of demagogues and false priests to those fields. I’d rather make clear that they’re different from the start. This way, there will be no confusion in the general population about who has an authority on the truth.”

By now, Wachatay had recovered his breath, but he still didn’t speak up. For a while, the priest seemed to be thinking hard. When it looked like he had made a decision in his head, he continued hesitatingly.

“...since the differences between the schools are so large, then surely their exact placement matters. If I may ask, which one of the three would teach about the stars, or teach reading the ancient texts? Where is the Pacha faith to be taught?”

“Do we really need to do this? I was just having fun.”

Just as he had forgotten about his disagreement with the priests, Wachatay had to bring it up again. Since Corco knew that his answer would only cause more trouble, he would have loved to ignore the question, but the priest wouldn’t let up.

“It is a question master will ask on my return,” Wachatay explained. “I cannot forego it.”

After an exaggerated sigh to show his displeasure, Corco explained, “I was planning to have an astronomy division in SohCahToa University. Theology, the study of religion, will end up in the Amaya Academy, I’m afraid. Though if you want to fund a priest’s seminar in the vocational school, you’re free to do so.”

The priest carried a troubled smile. Maybe he also knew that conflict was inevitable at this point.

“King Corco,” he said. “You understand that this will only cause further problems. Not only are you declaring the Pacha faith less important than something like mathematics, you are also taking the study of the stars out of the hands of the priests. If the high priests were annoyed before, this is what will force them over the edge. All this time, many of them have defended you because of your contributions to stargazing. Now, I fear you may lose your last allies among the priests, and they will begin to openly oppose you.”

Of course Corco knew. As a Pacha believer, this was something he had considered long and hard. However, in the end, his own feelings weren’t as important as the education of his people. He would do this right, without bringing any of his personal bias into it. While it did make him uncomfortable, he couldn’t back down on this issue. Although it hurt his heart, he tried to sound as matter-of-fact as possible in his response.

“I can’t compromise, not on this.” Corco shook his head. “The way I see it, there should be a clear distinction between secular power and religious power anyways. Our ancestors clearly saw it the same way. That’s why the priests aren’t even an official part of Medala’s old class system. If the priests get the power to influence the real world too much, there’ll be nothing but trouble. Imagine this: I try to pass a law for the good of the people, but then some selfish priest decides to fake an oracle reading and pretends that my new law is unjust, all just because he got some money from a political opponent.”

Although the angered Wachatay stood up, Corco interrupted him before he could say anything.

“Don’t tell me this doesn’t happen, we’re not children. I’m a politician myself, and part of the problem. During the succession war, I’ve struck deals like that as well, as have countless others before me. I’m also not saying that the Pacha priests are all corrupt. But in the end, it doesn’t matter if most of the priests have good intentions. With the unchecked power to interpret the truth, all it takes is one misguided priest, to create endless trouble for any ruler. Just look at the sort of influence the scholars have in Chutwa. I really can’t allow that sort of unchecked power in my kingdom, no matter how much faith I may have.”

“King Corco, you talk about faith, but to me it always sounds like you believe more in your modern sciences than in the Pacha faith.”

Although the priest’s reply was bitter, Corco wasn’t bothered. Over the years, he had long made sense of his own belief.

“One does not preclude the other,” he explained. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that one has nothing to do with the other. Saying that I choose science over religion is like saying I can’t like apples and the color blue at the same time. Of course I can, they’re in no way related. Science is a way to make sense of the world, and to use this knowledge in order to develop new way to see the world, or to manipulate it. In the end, the empirical method does not look for truth anyways, not really. It just looks for explanations that are congruent with what we can see. That’s it. On the other hand, I view religion as a way to make sense of yourself, and your humble place in the universes.”

“Yet the Pacha faith offers so much more than that,” the priest argued.

“But that’s the nice thing about religion. Unlike science, which is as objective as possible, religion offers a deeply personal experience. It means something different for everyone who experiences faith. To some it may be guidance they need in their life, or hope. Others may see it as a way to make sense of the world, or they may simply play a part in religious rites to feel as part of a community. No matter what, all of it is based purely on belief, devoid of proof. Because as soon as you have proof, it’s not faith anymore. And I’m not saying that religion has no worth, or is in some way lesser than proof-based science. Of course it has worth. As a common ground that connects the people of this country, or as a guidance for morals in society, or as an anchor and relief for the poor and neglected, religion can play a tremendously important role. By splitting the universities in threes, I’m not ranking them based on importance. I’m just highlighting that, while all of them might offer education, they all serve very different purposes. You can’t compare religion to chemistry. One’s ‘blue’ and the other’s ‘apple’. But both matter, and I can’t neglect apples just because some blue people feel offended.”

After Corco’s long explanation, the priest seemed to have calmed down. Now, he no longer looked angry, he only seemed frustrated with hanging shoulders and a saddened expression.

“I am glad to see your opinion laid out as such, and I feel your deep faith,” he said, but then he sighed again. “If only the old priests would see it the same way, then there would be no conflict.”

“Well, that seems to be your job, right?” Corco winked, before he hit the priest’s shoulder. “Before, you were sent to lead talks between me and the priesthood, so please do the same in the future. Help me spread my thoughts among your colleagues. At least the younger ones should be receptive to some of my ideas, just like you are. With enough pressure, we can get the old ones to compromise, so that we can find more common ground, and prevent the worst. I hope we can work together, to find a future where the Pacha faith is an important part of my emerging kingdom, rather than another opposing force.”

With a heavy expression, the priest nodded as he stood up from the bench.

“I will try my best. Some of the younger priests are more receptive to these modern ideas, so it is not a hopeless endeavor. However, there are limits to what I can do. In the end, the high priests and grand readers still hold most of the power.”

“So what happens if we can’t find a solution? They can’t openly denounce me, right? They haven’t even denounced Pacha and Amautu when they tried to oust Arguna’s Pachayawna in the Triumvirate Meeting.”

“King Corco, all I can say is that you should prepare for the worst,” Wachatay said with a saddened expression

After that, their inspection didn’t last much longer, since neither man was in the mood for idle conversation. As Corco returned to the castle, his mind wavered again for a second. Was he really ready to oppose the priests who represented what he had believed in all his life? Would he not deny part of himself if he did so? Maybe, he thought, it would be best to go along with the plans, and then accept whatever punishment the priests had in store for him personally.

That way, maybe he could do what he thought was best for his people, but only he would suffer for the decision, and no one else. Either way, compromise was no option. When it came to his people, it never had been. As he was traveling through the city, he could see the castle’s roof all the way. Although he couldn’t see it, somewhere up there was the castle’s new lightning rod. The way things were going, they may soon need its help, to evade the wrath of the heavens.

Chapter 336 - Bent and Upright

While Corco was busy preventing trouble in Saniya, Sumaci was still in Rasacopa, dealing with her very own brand of problems.

“Queen, this servant brings news from the captains,” Captain Aqta said as he handed a scroll to Sumaci’s attendant Llamka. At their first meeting, Aqta had been quite haughty, but ever since he had accepted Sumaci’s offer, he had become more and more submissive. Now he sat there folded in the chair across her desk, his body cramped and weak. He wouldn’t even have had the courage to sit down had she not ordered him to do so. It was no wonder his crew wouldn’t listen to him, despite his obvious skills as a navigator.

“Oh? What do they say?” she asked. Although she took the scroll, she put it aside without opening it. She could still read it later. For now, she wanted to hear the story from her subordinate’s own mouth.

“At the moment, the captains are still being stubborn. However, they have all lost their haughtiness.” Aqta grinned.

As have you, Sumaci thought, though she wouldn’t show her contempt on her face. Meanwhile, the clueless captain continued.

“At first, they were so sure that they would win, and take over the palace,” he rambled. “Now, they have learned humility. The stories of the commoner army from Medala earning a big win on Yua has spread everywhere. Many of their crew members are deeply worried. If the new commoner soldiers trained here are as strong as those Medalans who took Yua from the crews of the other colored islands, wouldn’t that make the warriors useless? That’s what they are thinking, and they do not like it. The captains are getting indignant at their complaints. Although they are not quite ready to talk about cooperation, all they need now is a sign that Queen is willing to compromise with them. So long as they get an excuse that saves face for them, they will surely agree to any conditions.”

“You have done well,” Sumaci said, this time in earnest. The progress with the other captains was faster than she had expected. At this speed, it wouldn’t even take until the end of the year for the other captains to crack.

“And my ship…” Captain Aqta rubbed his hands, which made him look like a thief, even though he just asked about her end of the bargain.

Part of their deal had included a guarantee that the captain would be able to retain command of his ship, and even own it outright. For Aqta, it was an enticing prospect, since warriors still weren’t allowed to own property. Though for Sumaci, this exception wasn’t a problem, since things were about to change.

“You will get your reward, don’t worry,” she said. “For now, I want you to spread some news among the warriors. We will try to do the same in our own ways.”

“What news?” Captain Aqta perched up.

“I want you to tell them that I plan to reform the class system in one decisive area. Since the commoners are now taking over warrior roles and the crews are mostly docked in the harbor, many captains are struggling to pay their warriors.”

Like her teacher, Sumaci explained with a raised finger, but her audience wasn’t playing along.

“That is not correct,” the captain said. “Most captains have large sums of money stashed away in secret hideouts. They will be able to pay their crews for years, even without support from the House.”

“But would they ever admit to that?” Sumaci asked with a sly grin.

“Of course not.”

After all, if the captains admitted to their secret stashes, they would also admit to treason, since anything they earned during their raids should ultimately belong to the green monarch in Rasacopa.

“Then there is no problem,” Sumaci said. “The issue I’m raising doesn’t need to be real, I only need an excuse to implement my solution to the ‘problem’. The warriors only need to hear of my plan and they will all play along with it, even if they know that their pay is already secure. From now on, property possession will be legal for warriors.”

In an expected, but sill satisfying reaction, the captain’s eyes widened in shock.

“That means-”

“From now on, private homes, ships, and even businesses can be owned by the warriors of Rasaopca, so long as they can pay for it,” Sumaci interrupted him. “That’s a pretty good second income stream, besides the money they get from the House treasury.”

“The captains will never agree to it,” Captain Aqta said, in a panicked tone.

And I’m sure you’re not happy about it either.

This was no surprise to Sumaci. After all, the captains had always been responsible for the pay of the warriors. They would get their money directly from House Hulpatec, and then they would distribute that money among the other warriors on their ships, their crew members. This was the tool the captains used to control their crews.

No loyalty meant no pay. If the warriors were to findnew ways to make money, they would no longer be dependent on the captains, and their power would diminish. Of course she expected a violent reaction from the captains, but she wasn’t worried one bit.

“Then what will they do about it? Rebel?” a dismissive Sumaci asked. “The captains may be strong and free enough that they can hide their wealth from me, so they won’t suffer even if they don’t gain the official right to own property. In secret, I’m sure they already own much. But that doesn’t go for any of their crew members. Do the captains want to lead their warriors in a fight to prevent them from gaining new rights? You’re kidding me. That’s just a mutiny waiting to happen. No, the captains will have to swallow the new law obediently, and then they will have to watch their power diminish bit by bit.”

“In that case, this servant will do his best to spread the word, Queen.”

The captain bowed, but only to hide his pale face and the unwillingness in her eyes, something that didn’t escape Sumaci. However, she didn’t really care. Captain Aqta was now a pawn with limited use. There was no reason to keep him happy, and if he didn’t understand the signs of the time, she would clean him up just like all the other captains.

“Yeah, that’s good.” She waved her hand dismissively, no longer interest in the captain. “You do that. You may leave.”

After a bow, the captain turned and left the queen’s study. As soon as he was gone, the statuesque maid next to the desk came alive.

“This is splendid news, Queen Sumaci!” Llamka called out. “With this move, all the warriors on the island will immediately turn to our side.”

Although she still felt like things were going far too smoothly these days, Sumaci nodded.

“By the time this rumor has spread in the city, the warriors will start their own small revolutions against their captains. I’m sure the captains will have forgotten all about their ideas of resisting me by then. They won’t need some compromise from us anymore, they will come crawling either way, just to retain whatever power they can. Only then will we be able to properly reform the kingdom, and return all the power back to House Hulpatec. Only then can the island be properly moulded, to bring prosperity to our people, and to use their strength in our future endeavors.”

“How far-seeing, as always…”

While the attendant was praising Sumaci some more, the queen was thinking about further plans.

Only then will we be able to pick out the captains who were part of Tayali’s betrayal, and avenge my father and brother. Without the power you have stolen from my family, what are you? I wonder, will you regret your greed in your final moments?

When Sumaci returned from her thoughts, the maid was already done with her praise, and stared at her, waiting for a reply to a question the queen hadn’t heard. A bit awkward, Sumaci coughed before she changed the topic, a trick she had learned from Corco.

“So who’s next?” she asked, to which Llamka looked at her notes.

“Next on the schedule is General Paec, it seems. He did not have an appointment in advance, but it seems like his message is urgent, so he was pushed ahead, in front of everyone but the equally important Captain Aqta. He has been waiting in the lobby for about an hour now.”

“Then bring him in.”

Soon, the general stood in front of the queen. He greeted her with stiff, but proper etiquette. As always, Paec looked like a statue from a forgotten time, old-fashioned and unmoving.

“Please, sit.” Sumaci began.

“No need, Queen. I will not take up too much of your time, since this visit was already unannounced.”

“In that case, just tell me what the problem is.”

“According to a recent report we have received from Admiral Atau via radio, the other colored kings and their arcavian allies have not given up on their attempt to disturb our supply lines.”

“Is it a fleet, or another attempt to take over an island and turn it into a fortress like Yua?”

With worry, Sumaci considered both options. A fleet wouldn’t be too bad. With enough ability, it was always possible to navigate around an enemy fleet, and in time, they would have more ships in the Verduic Sea anyways. A fortress would be a much bigger issue. Of course, her enemies were doing whatever was least convenient for her.

“The latter,” Paec said, and looked at the map that was stitched into a tapestry and hung up on one of the walls in Sumaci’s study. “May I?” he asked while pointing at the intricate knitting.

“Of course. Feel right at home.”

After Sumaci waved towards the tapestry, the general approached and thought for a second, before he identified his target.

“The island in question should be this one, Iskay Island.” he pointed at a spot a few kilometers west of Yua Island.

“Iskay… another impasse like Yua.”

“Yes, that is what Admiral Atau said.”

“Then he has been brushing up on the geography of the isles, that’s good. Iskay, like Yua, needs to be passed if one wants to get from Saniya to Rasacopa in the shortest time,” Sumaci began to explain.  Compared to the general from Saniya, she was far more familiar with her home’s environment. “However, there are two big differences between the two islands. Number one, Iskay Island can be crossed from both sides. Unlike Yua, which has difficult weather, cliffs, and unfavorable currents in its north and can only be passed in the south, Iskay can be passed north and south on most days. If our enemies want to cut off our supply lines, they will have to take over both ends of the island and build a fortress on both ends. Which also means that they need to occupy all the inland area, and the entire waterways around it, at least if they really want to cut us off from our supplies. So long as we can keep a presence on the island and hold at least one beach, we can keep our supplies flowing without trouble.”

“That won’t be necessary. As soon as you order it, I am ready to take on our enemies and drive them off the island, just like General Dedrick did on Yua. I’m sure that Admiral Atau is also itching for another fight with their fleet. We have won the first battle easily enough, we should be able to win the second one just as well. Once we drive them off Iskay Island, we can install our own fortresses and secure our routes for good.”

Paec traced a line between Saniya and Rasacopa on the tapestry.

“With our secure positions on the two islands, our fleet can control the entire space between our two capitals and cut our enemies in two. After all, the other colored kings are scattered all over the Verdant Isles. Once we have our own supply lines secured, our hands are freed to do the same to them as they have tried to do to us. Divided and cut off from one another, they will be easy to defeat in detail. With one more decisive win, we can end the war within a year.”

In contrast to Paec’s optimism, Sumaci developed a deep frown during his explanation. Although she wanted the war to end more than anyone, she knew that it wouldn’t be this easy.

“It’s good that you have spirit, and even better that you have a plan that will end the war quickly. But you may be going a bit too fast. First, we need to defend ourselves, since our enemies still hold the initiative. If you think that Iskay Island will be the same as Yua, then you are sorely mistaken. That is the second big difference between the two islands, the one I haven’t mentioned yet: Compared to Yua, Iskay is much larger. And unlike Yua, it is covered in jungle. Trying to occupy the entire island is almost impossible. At best we can control parts along the edges, and then send teams into the depths. But if our enemies want to hide in the jungle, they can do that for almost as long as they like. Unless we have total naval control, there will be no quick end to the fighting.”

“So we simply don’t engage them,” Llamka suggested. “Just control one side of the island and let them tire themselves out against the wild beasts in the center?”

“No, we have to engage,” Paec said. “Otherwise, they can move in on our position under cover of the trees and launch surprise attacks. We can’t defend those indefinitely, so our defenses will always be in danger, unless we can establish a safe area around our fortress. For that, we need to enter the jungle and control at least a portion of it through advanced scouting units.”

“That means no quick victory will be possible, not unless our enemies make a mistake,” Sumaci concluded, before she addressed Pae directly. “General Paec, this will no longer be an easy victory. By the end of the day, I will communicate with Atau directly, as well as with Corco, and then send you your exact orders before tomorrow morning. But you should already understand your tasks, and should get your men ready early. Prepare them for a long, messy war.”

“No matter what difficulty befalls us, we will not flinch and do whatever it takes to achieve victory. Our men are well-trained, and ready. All this time, victory has come all too easy for us. Now, we are eager for a true challenge. We will not disappoint you.”

With a spirited salute, Paec excused himself, turned on the spot and left the room. However, despite his eagerness, the worry had never left Sumaci’s face. Rather, she was concerned about the senseless losses that a long, drawn-out war would demand. While Paec still seemed to think that a quick victory was possible, she knew better.

Unlike the Saniya general, she knew the jungles of the Verdant Isles. She knew how horrible they were, and that they always demanded a price in blood from anyone who entered. Just how much blood would the jungles of Iskay take from them? Sumaci would rather not find out, but now she didn’t have a choice.

Chapter 337 - Felian Northdale, Really Trying to Keep it Together

In the humid air, a little creature flapped its wings and flew around in an erratic pattern. As always when its instincts didn’t draw it to a mate, it was in its eternal search for food. Then, something attracted the creature, a smell it enjoyed, and a warmth it could not resist. The creature flew towards the warmth, and landed, ready to feast.

BAM!

Felian smacked the bug off his hand. With a grimace, he looked at the nasty stain it had left behind, a fitting metaphor for this entire, god-forsaken island.

From the window of the room, he could hear the countless strange noises caused by the endless dark green where the bug had come from. Beyond these walls was what the locals called the green underworld, their version of a hell. After spending almost twenty days on this island, Felian could tell why. The evidence lay right before him.

“How are you feeling, Adjutant Arlon?”

Although he had worded it like a question, he could already tell from the man’s sallow complexion that he wasn’t in a great state. While his adjutant hadn’t looked too bad when he had returned from the jungle for the first time, he was sweating all over now, shivering, his face riddled with red and yellow spots where the endless bugs of the island had taken pieces of his flesh. Despite his sorry state, the man rose up from his sweat-soaked bed, his eyes flitting with panic.

“Sir, we need to leave this place,” His voice was pure panic, either for himself, or for the fellow men who were still healthy, but would be sent into the island’s heart today. However, Felian remained cold-hearted.

“And lose the war? That won’t be happening.”

As his hand ran across the scabbed wound along the left side of his neck, he thought back to Duke Herak’s mood during his last visit in central Medala. If it hadn’t been for his quick tongue, his lord may have beheaded him as soon as he dared to declare the battle on Yua Island lost. Although the knight wasn’t fully privy to the duke’s plans, it seemed like fulfilling his orders to Herak’s satisfaction had been an important part in them. Since suppression of the Green Island was an important part of the duke’s strategy, Felian had to try his damnedest, no matter the cost. He wasn’t ready to disappoint his lord again. In truth, he couldn’t afford to.

“We cannot conquer this island. No one can,” Arlon insisted. He had no idea what Felian was thinking, and had no idea about Duke Herak’s plans. All he knew was that a few short days on the island had left him in a horrible condition. However, no matter how much the man suffered, Felian had no pat of retreat and couldn’t shrink back from danger. Even if he were the one lying in bed right now, he would still have to give the same orders.

“There’s no need to conquer anything,” he said, trying to make their orders seem easier than they were. “All we need to do is busy our enemies for some time, while Duke Herak’s plan comes together. We can handle a few days in the forest.”

“However-”

Again, the man tried to rise, but Felian pushed his upper body back into the bedding.

“Lie down, Adjutant Arlon,” he said in a firm tone of order. “Take a rest and recover to health as soon as possible. Until then, there is no need for you to bother about the war. I will take care of everything, and shoulder both the burden, and the blame, should it be necessary.”

With a heavy heart, Felian left the adjutant’s private tent and stepped out into their makeshift camp. Over the past few days, they had at least managed to set up a half-decent wall around their tents, so Felian still couldn’t see the deadly jungle from here. However, hiding wouldn’t do him any good. There was work to be done, and it was waiting for him beyond these walls. Thus, he made his way outside, while he thought about the potential dangers they may face on this island.

From all the threats they had encountered in their first twenty days in this place, the signs weren’t good. Apart from the endless bugs who loved to feed on the flesh of visitors, daylight never shone within these islands. The trees fought each other for sparse sunlight, so they hugged into an unbroken canopy that blotted out the sun even just ten feet inland from the sandy beaches.

Although they had built a makeshift camp on the beach, which they planned to expand into a proper fortress, the shadows close-by meant that they were never truly safe. Their enemies could roll an entire battery of cannons into range without them noticing.

Of course they had tried to clear the forest as well, but the shrubbery and trees were dense, and complicated. It could take them a year to create a clearing so wide that their cannon balls couldn’t reach the end, and only if their enemies wouldn’t interrupt their work, which seemed inevitable.

From a defensive perspective, this place was a nightmare. This nightmare was only exacerbated by the endless howling of the large creatures inside, bizarre beasts of all shapes and sizes. In the first days after their arrival, his fellow knights had foolishly considered these beasts a welcome distraction. Unlike the insects which had been hated from the start, the exotic creatures had been considered trophies to be earned.

Most of the arcavian knights under Felian’s command had been eager to enter this hell, to prove their power in front of their peers. Whether it was ambition or vanity that drove them, Felian had been more cautious, and hadn’t joined their folly. The outcomes of their excursions had proven him right. Of the many who had entered the jungle with shiny armor and cocked hunting rifles, only few ever returned. The ones who did were worn down both in spirit and in body.

Some had been poisoned by tiny, colorful creatures and came to a violent, painful end. Others were missing limbs, somehow crawling back to their base camp before they were ended by the blood loss. Before one man’s death, he told feverish stories of mysterious, black demons that lurked in the shadows and hunted for people.

Others still seemed fine at first, but were later taken away by the mysterious illness that the locals called the ‘jungle curse’. Adjutant Arlon was the latest example of this group, though at least it seemed like he may survive the curse, unlike some of his fellow knights.

While Felian thought about the consequences of his decision to fight their decisive battle against the Green Island in this place, he left the north-facing gate and traveled along the wall to the east, which was the only area where his men had already begun to clear trees. Along the way, the impenetrable jungle was always to his left, a stark reminder of his own guilt, as well as the arrogance of the knights who had traveled inside and experienced its horror.

These days, no one in their expedition would be dumb enough to enter the jungle again, not as a form of leisure. Even so, many didn’t have a choice and still needed to face the threats of the green underworld. With worry, Felian marched over to the twenty individual ten-man commando teams who had assembled on the eastern clearing in front of the jungle.

The teams were split into two distinct camps, who kept far away from one another. Fifteen of the groups were sent by various allies, like the Colored Kings, as well as some forces from Medala. After the mess they had caused in their last big battle, and with their general show of haughtiness and arrogance, Felian couldn’t care less about them.

However, the remaining five teams were his fellow countrymen, and also men directly under his control. Those, he had to care for, not only because it was part of his duties, but also because he felt responsible for their lives and deaths, something he hadn’t taken good care of these days.

His face firmed up as he approached, and his worried frown disappeared. With his stony face and stiff posture, he looked like a stern, uncompromising arcavian noble, what most back home would consider a reliable leader. After all, the least he could do was pretend like he was still confident in his plans, and give his men some peace of mind before he sent them to their deaths.

As he closed in, the murmurs from the soldiers reduced, and the men stood up straight. Once he stood before them, he waited for an almost uncomfortable amount of time to build the tension, before he bellowed out the speech he had prepared throughout the past few days.

“Listen up!” he shouted as he walked up and down the rows of knights. “I know you must be uneasy, or frightened! Before you stands this nasty green wall, and behind it the unknown, fear itself!”

Although some of the men seemed indignant at his opening words, he only had to look in their eyes, where he saw the truth plain as day. Yes, they were scared, and rightfully so. What he had to do now, was make them forget their fear, and replace it with something stronger.

“But can you shrink in the face of danger?” he continued. “Dare you, with the gaze of Arcavus upon you? Among all the men of Borna, you are the elite of the elite! That’s why you were sent to the distant Occident, to fight for the kingdom’s prosperity. And it’s also why you are here, on this nameless island in the middle of nowhere, to overcome the kingdom’s harshest enemies. I will not make long speeches about our goals in this battle. You all know why we are here! You were there on Yua, when we were outflanked and out-thought, and had to run off like wet dogs. It’s a true shame for us to lose to them, to those ordinary people who have taken up arms for the Medalans. When Arcavus looks down on us, what does he see but a band of losers, who do not deserve to sit even on the very end of his table?”

As Felian looked around again, he saw that most knights had forgotten all about their earlier unease. After his insults and threats, they were all annoyed, bitter, or angry, just what he needed to rekindle their fire and let them die for him.

“But over the last days, with the failures of the greatest among you, you have seen the nature of this jungle,” he continued, as he pointed at the looming trees not far in the distance.

“Just imagine, what mysteries and dangers does this forest contain within, what can they do to a man? Your rifle weapons are useless, as are our cannons. Surrounded by leaves, you will be lucky to see beyond your own hand, while mystical beasts lurk around every corner. You will have to fight a melee, but not only against beasts. Not only you will be entering this place. The enemy commoners have landed on the other side of the island, and plan to face you one on one in its very heart. This time, there are two great threats to overcome, an enemy we have lost to before, and the forces of nature. You know what that means? It means that we are very lucky, you and I. Arcavus has granted us a chance to redeem ourselves. So long as you can overcome your fear, and face the threats inside with a clear mind, will you do worse than the commoners?”

He belted his final question across the troops.

“No!” they replied in one voice.

“With your strength, will those commoners find you in the dense jungle before you can find them?”

“No!”

“Do you think they will defeat you without their rifles, one on one and surrounded by trees?”

“No!”

“I admit, the lands before you are dangerous, they are deadly. But you are the proud sons of Arcavus, the great god who could rip out trees when he was still a mere child. What is a little forest before you? Whatever horror you fear within it, the simple commoners on the other side will be hurt ten times more by it. And yet, our goal is not even to defeat our foes. All we need to do is outlast them, to dare venture into the forest longer than them. As those who are stronger, faster, and greater than our enemies, do we really not have their stomach? Will we retreat from this dark place before they do?”

“No!”

“Then show me. Go inside, and prove that you are worthy. And once you exit on the other side, and drive our foes off the islands, you all will be heroes. Your lost honor restored, your pockets full of gold, and the eyes of Arcavus upon your great feat. Now go forth, and show them what true knights are made of.”

Although the men weren’t shouting with excitement after Felian’s speech, their eyes were glimmering in anticipation of the future, as if they could already see their glory hiding within the dark shadows of the jungle. As the small teams walked past Felian one by one, he wished them good luck and cautioned them to be careful, but some of them were barely listening, shaking all over their bodies. They didn’t shake from fear, but from excitement.

With a sigh, Felian looked on as their backs were swallowed up by the dark green hell. Would he ever see any of them again? If yes, how many? And what special hell would await himafter his death, the man who had made them so eager to enter this place and throw their lives away? He truly didn’t know, but he hoped that Arcavus would forgive him for his transgressions.

Chapter 338 - Guerilla Warfare

There were many tall trees in the jungle of Iskay Island, but this one was the largest Alcer had found in the area. After he had climbed halfway up, he rested on a branch and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped the moisture off his brow, although he knew it would just start collecting again.

In the jungle of Iskay Island, water could never be avoided. Even the air itself felt like it would start dripping if he squeezed a bit. Soon, the sweat he had just wiped after his stressful march and slow climb would be replaced by the condensation from the jungle.

Still, he had to do his due diligence and clear his eyes, to improve his chances when the time was ripe, even if only by a little. In this environment, against enemies who were far superior to them, they would need all the help they could get.

When Alcer scanned the trees around him, he found that his spot was well-picked. From here, he had decent sight leading past several other trees in the surroundings, along some gaps in the vegetation where he expected enemies to come from. He had stopped just above the lower edge of the canopy, hidden above a single layer of leaves. Nestled in between two branches, he had a stable position to move and attack from.

Although it was a good spot compared to most others he could have picked, it was still, objectively, terrible. This was the jungle after all. There were no good spots.

Ever since he had first set foot inside it, Alcer had hated the jungle. This place was wet, sticky and infested with bugs. Worst of all, he felt like it was designed to negate all the advantages of Saniya’s armies.

With a frown, he watched his team members down below, the ten men whose lives he was responsible for. After their long march from their camp on the northern beach, Saniya’s fifteenth commando unit had chosen this spot to scout for traces of their enemies today.

Every day, both sides would enter the jungle from different ends of the island, and try to outwit each other in the center. Whoever found the other side first would have a crucial advantage, and could deal critical damage. However, despite their scouting advantages, the fights hadn’t gone well for Saniya’s armies.

Since their guns were useless, they were forced to fight melees against true warriors. Apart from a few clever surprise attacks, none of their battles had gone well, so they had been forced to shrink back to the beach. However, they still had to make sure that their enemies wouldn’t use the cover of the jungle to amass an attacking army right next to their camp, so their general kept sending out commandos like this one, to clear the camp’s periphery and spot for enemy movements near their position.

Now that they had reached their designated spot, Alcer’s men would swarm out and search for any signs of foes in the area. As the captain of their little team, Alcer’s role was to keep an eye on the surroundings and protect his fellows from surprise attacks, while commanding them from his secure position. Luckily, he had been given the tools to do so, a secret weapon that may just turn their luck in this war around.

He grabbed the rifle from his back, and carefully removed the wax paper that was meant to protect the gun from moisture. Once he had folded and stored away the paper, he inspected his weapon first, since he wasn’t quite familiar with the new model yet.

This was a slick rifle that looked much fiercer than his old model, since it was made almost entirely of dulled, black metal. Even the wood for the stock had been replaced with a shiny, dark-red, almost black material that felt smooth like a glazed pot. He assumed that it was some kind of rare stone that had been polished to a shine, or maybe a new form of pottery.

Really, there were far too many new things getting developed in Saniya to keep up with all of them. This was especially true for someone like him, who had spent much of his time away from the city to fight in the kingdom’s wars, too busy furthering his army career over the past few years. Whatever the stock was made from, the new materials came in handy in this new environment that was so inhospitable to them.

The classic Saniya clockmaker’s rifle was made of wood and iron. In the jungle, the wood would have soaked up all the water in the air, bloated and rotted off the frame, while the iron would be attacked by the jungle’s air and corroded into rust. Worse of all, the powder would get wet and useless immediately. This new weapon was specifically designed for these extreme climates, and was meant to be much hardier, or so his instructor had said when they had handed him the weapon.

Of course, he still had to be careful with it, since it was brand new, and army property. The gun’s entire chamber was closed off completely, and the hammer was recessed almost fully into the gun’s barrel when it wasn’t cocked, to protect everything from moisture as much as possible. All black like this, and with its unusual, slick form, it was a strange weapon, unlike any rifle he had ever seen before.

Only Saniya’s special geniuses could create something that would still be useful in this climate, and even exceeded the ordinary clockmaker’s rifles of the army by a good bit. That wasn’t only down to the weapon’s higher accuracy and its special, new loading mechanism that promised faster reloads, but also to the high-quality telescope that was mounted above the barrel and helped Alcer observe his surroundings.

This was a piece of spectacular Saniya glassware, clear like shallow spring water, and represented some of the most secret technology of the city. Although it wasn’t very good for shooting because of the distortion – the physical sights right below it had brought Alcer more success during his tests – it was perfect for his current mission, securing the perimeter and scouting for enemies. If he found any, he could always switch back to the iron sights right below.

As expected, Saniya’s island workshops had created another marvel. In fact, there were rumors that the king himself had been involved in this gun’s design and construction, though similar things were being said about almost anything that was being made in Saniya these days. Even the omnipotent King Corcopaca couldn’t be in that many places at once, could he?

Whether the king was involved or not, it was certainly an impressive piece. Alcer didn’t want to imagine how expensive the weapon was, but he was determined to do its price justice. As he figured out the telescope and became more familiar with the gun’s dimensions, he watched his team do their work in the jungle down below.

The area around him was a kind of clearing, as much of a clearing as could be found in this place. Although the canopy above was still closed and didn’t let any light through, at least they didn’t have to hack their way through the thicket to walk around in this area. The clear and even ground made it a good place to amass troops, and it wasn’t far away from their base camp in the north, so it was considered a prime target of attack for their enemies.

If the Arcavians planned an assault on their camp, places like this would be an important part of their strategy. Thus, the men below walked around the area and searched the floor for signs of human activity, like burnt out fires, or human foot prints.

On their last visit here, Alcer’s team had also set up a few traps for their enemies to trip. If the almost invisible fishing lines had been snapped or moved, it would mean that at least something had come through here. However, the forest was also full of all kinds of animals, so a tripped wire was no guarantee of enemy activity. Thus, they still had to search manually, for more concrete signs.

Slowly, his men spread out in a spiral formation, to cover as much ground as possible. Alcer was just observing Umari, one of his men who was moving east towards one of their old traps, to check on its status. Before he could arrive, Alcer noticed something weird through the magnification of his telescope.

Doesn’t that ground look strange? What’s that reflection? he wondered, a tight feeling in his chest. As Umari moved closer to the spot, the bad hunch intensified. But by then, it was already too late.

“Private Umari, halt!” he shouted, but to no avail. The soldier took the last step forward as he looked back in Alcer’s direction. As a result, he couldn’t see the wire he tripped, and he couldn’t see the bent bamboo pole snap forward towards his shins, but Alcer saw everything. After a blood-curdling scream, all other members of his team had noticed as well.

Umari had collapsed to the ground, his legs now nailed to a bamboo pole with wooden spikes. After a second where the shock overpowered the pain, he started screaming again, looking at his mangled leg in horror.

Although Alcer wanted to jump down and save his soldier straight away, this trap wouldn’t just be here at random. It was right where their old trip wire had been placed, clearly meant for their team to trigger it. This was the sign of human activity they had been looking for, and they weren’t the only ones laying traps.

“Halt! Stay vigilant!” he shouted down to his men who were rushing ahead blindly to save Umari.

At the same time, he pulled out a leather bag lined with more wax paper. Hidden inside was the new ammunition that would fit with his new gun. In shape, they looked like the old paper cartridges he had been using all these years, but they had an expensive, bronze color. During some field experiments, and long before he had been handed the new gun, he had already tested the material inside these bullets.

The higher ups in the army called the stuff inside ‘guncotton’. It didn’t look anything like gunpowder, but it blew up just as well. However, it caused a much cleaner release, and it apparently was more resilient to water, which was why he would become one of the first to test its effects in the field. If they couldn’t use gunpowder in the jungle, they would simply use this stuff instead.

Alcer released the bolt on his new precision rifle, inserted a cartridge and closed the clacking mechanism. That was all it took to prime the weapon, even quicker than the old flintlock designs. By the time he had loaded his gun and looked back up, his flustered men had only just gotten into formation.

Eight of them had huddled together, hidden behind shields, with pikes in their free hands poking out from behind their cover. Since spaces in the jungle were tighter, these new pikes were shorter than the ones they would use in the open field, but they were still far beyond the reach of a warrior’s axe or saber.

When the eight were in formation, one remaining soldier slowly approached his injured comrade who was still screaming and squirming on the ground. He would free him from the nasty trap and then drag him back into the safety of the formation, while the others secured their backs. Meanwhile, Alcer had begun to check the surroundings for any signs of enemy activity with his telescope. His senses felt heightened, almost like people said a warrior would feel.

Something rattled in the tall shrubs, a few leaves rustled around, a stick snapped. Somewhere close by, a bird gave off a strange cry like a human’s death rattle. All the sounds of the jungle were infinitely enhanced in Alcer’s ears. However, these wouldn’t be useful at all. In this noise, he would never identify any enemies. Instead, he focused on his sights.

Unlike Saniya’s troops, who had exchanged their usual uniforms for colors of muddy brown and green to better hide inside the jungle, the mighty warriors of the Verdant Isles still wore what they always did, carrying bright costumes on their backs to show off their might and wealth. As expected, he found a red spot moving up and down behind a batch of leaves some ways away from the trap through his telescope.

Although this enemy was dangerous, he was still far enough away from Alcer’s men that he wouldn’t be an immediate threat. Thus, the captain made the calm decision to turn the ambush on its head, and turn hunter into hunted. Slowly, so as not to attract the warrior’s attention, the commander lowered his eyes down below the telescope, and onto the iron sights.

To get ready for his first bit of combat with the new weapon, Alcer swallowed away the annoying spit that had amassed in his mouth, but he could do nothing about the water that was once again running down his brows and into his eyes. Somehow he blinked away the drops, as his finger firmed around the trigger. Yet before he could fire, the red spot was gone. Was it a subtle movement in the leaves tha t covered him, had he retreated, or started his attack? There was no time to think. Without another choice, Alcer shouted “Ambush!” to alert his men, before all hell broke loose.

Chapter 339 - Modern Weapons

As soon as Alcer’s men heard his warning, they became alert. Their shields and spears raised, they set themselves up in a semi-circle formation, with their front towards the bamboo trap and their backs left for Alcer to cover. However, for some of them, any warning came too late. One of the soldiers had stepped ahead of the formation, to rescue his injured comrade.

Even now, the man was still stuck in the spike trap, his voice now hoarse from the constant screaming. Both the injured soldier and his would-be rescuer were overwhelmed by the first enemies rushing out of the thicket.

Although the standing soldier tried to defend himself, he had just bowed down to help release the injured man from the spike trap, his spear at his side and his body all out of balance. When the enemies charged out of the thicket with their inhuman speed, they were little more than red blurs.

Only two short shouts ended the lives of the exposed soldiers. When Alcer managed to train his sights on the scene again, both men were already done. The last survivor still had an axe stuck in his chest. He tried to grab at it with limp hands, but the warrior simply pulled his weapon back out, releasing a gushing stream of blood.

No matter how advanced the medicine, this man was dead, as was the unfortunate soldier who had been inflicted with a split skull on top of his pierced legs. At least now, he would no longer feel the pain of the wooden spikes, a small solace.

While the Saniya soldiers retreated by half a step to tighten up their formation, the four warriors who had ambushed them formed a loose line in front of them. They had cocky grins on their faces, and they wore shiny, red cloth. Although it was stained with mud and sweat, Alcer could still tell how expensive the material was.

Now that their enemies no longer had the element of surprise as their advantage, the warriors simply stood there with arrogant expressions and dared the commoner soldiers to attack. Behind them were the corpses of Saniya’s two fallen soldiers, laid out like trophies. It felt demoralizing, like their entire war in this place had.

Over the first week of the war in the jungle of Iskay Island, Saniya’s greatest weapons, the flintlock rifles, had proven useless, so the warriors surely felt invincible at this distance, safe to flaunt their superiority before they attacked. They wouldn’t feel safe for much longer, because their inactivity had allowed Alcer to finally line up a clean shot.

A bang cut through the tense atmosphere, and the kick of the rifle pushed back Alcer’s shoulder and jerked the end of the weapon in the air. However, the bullet had already left the barrel, and his eyes had already left the iron sights, to observe the result of his work. Before any of them could react, a warrior’s head jerked back, just like Alcer’s shoulder had.

Action and reaction, the commander thought while he remembered the things he had learned in Saniya’s schools. Within seconds, he watched the invincible warrior sink to the ground, just like they had done in Alcer’s first fight against them, when he had fought central Medala’s warrior scouts in a tiny town in the north. And just like they had back then, this warrior’s body also splashed into the mud, where it joined the two dead Saniya soldiers.

The four warriors looked down at their fallen comrade in shock, before one of them shouted “charge!” and rushed at the spear formation, his own shield raised up high. His two remaining comrades followed with the same momentum. At the same time, another two stormed out of bushes from the left and the right and joined the original three.

They were trying to flank, Alcer concluded. Looks like we’ve interrupted their plans. That’s good.

While the commander’s thoughts ran at high-speed to analyze the situation, he pulled back the bolt on his rifle, and the bronze cartridge jumped out. Bronze was costly, even such a small piece, and Alcer would have loved to keep his first fired shot of his new gun anyways, but under pressure, his mind was focused on more important things, and the empty shell dropped down into the mud below.

It hadn’t fallen all the way yet when another bullet had already entered the chamber. Once again, the clacking sound of the bolt closed the chamber and readied the gun for firing.

When Alcer led his sight along his rifle’s barrel again, it had only been a few seconds, but the nature of the battle had already changed. The warriors were stuck in front of the spear formation, struggling to get through the lances.

This was a strategy that Saniya’s soldiers had trained countless times, and Alcer’s men were veterans who had already gone through many battles. The pure, brute strength of the warriors wouldn’t be enough to overcome them, or at least that was what Alcer had thought.

However, the five warriors on the other side simply hid behind their large shields, completely protected from the long pikes. Although they couldn’t attack from behind their cover and couldn’t get any closer with the spears in the way, they simply shoved their large shields from behind and pressed forward.

His men dug their feet in to offer some resistance, but the five warriors slowly pushed back the eight soldiers, step by step. As time went by, the soldiers would tire out, and the push of the warriors would gain in speed. If they managed to speed up by too much, the spear formation would be broken, and the divided soldiers would be taken down one by one against the superior warriors. Over the past week,

Alcer had already seen what a melee against warriors in low numbers looked like. It wasn’t even a contest. Still, they weren’t without a chance. He had only fired once so far, and still had many bullets left in his bag. But with everyone engaged in a melee by now, his second shot proved harder than the first.

He climbed along a branch to get a better angle, until he could see the heads of the rightmost warrior peek out beside his shield. Only then did he put up his gun again. Once more, he looked down his sights and waited for the perfect shot.

After a particularly fierce push that made one of the soldiers stumble, there was a lull in the warrior’s advance. Before he could get ready for another shove, Alcer fired. Another bang sank a second warrior, who joined the first in the mud. Now it was up to the warriors to fall into chaos.

It’s eight against four now. Let’s see how strong you really are.

Another cartridge fell, another bullet was loaded.

“Up in the trees!” he heard one of the warriors scream. “Get him down!”

When Alcer had reloaded, he looked around to reassess the situation. Once again, much had changed in the three seconds he needed to reload his rifle. The shoving match between the formations looked the same as before, except that the warriors’ advance had slowed down. However, there was now movement all around his tree. He counted another three warriors who had appeared from out of the woods to his left.

The rest of the team. Looks like they thought six would be plenty to deal with our ten-man commando, so they kept the rest back as reinforcements.

Now, each of the three warriors was stalking around the clearing, each with a javelin raised above his shoulder and several others on his back. However, they weren’t aiming for the soldiers in formation, who were stationary and would have made for easy enough targets. Instead, they looked up into the trees, ready to fire at the mysterious shooter who had already killed or injured two of their own. They were searching for Alcer himself, and they were intent on revenge.

While the warriors on the ground were still searching for their target, the sniper in the canopy was already putting them in his sights. However, he struggled once again to line up a clean shot. They were moving quickly, and erratically, always as close as possible to any cover they could find.

Since they knew that there was a shooter, they made sure to make as tough a target as they could, much to Alcer’s annoyance. As he was looking for a good opportunity, the warriors came closer and closer to his position. Yet even when they were almost below his tree, he still hadn’t found a chance for a clean shot. Just as he was starting to get impatient, he heard a scream from the two formations in the distance.

Damn!

While he had been busy doing nothing, one of his men had been pushed out of the spear formation by an angled shove from the four warriors. Once isolated and on the ground, the man was easy to take out by the superior fighters. Without another thought, Alcer re-trained his rifle’s sights onto the two formations.

Whether he killed the ones over there or the ones under his tree really didn’t matter. Killing one would remove one either way. So he took aim once more. This time, it was easy to hit the stationary targets.

Another bang, and another fallen warrior, though this one was still moving. He had only hit the neck, but from the amount of blood, it looked like he wouldn’t make it through the day.

Three to seven. One more and you’re done, ohgreat warriors.

In their past encounters, Saniya’s soldiers had usually done well with a three-to-one advantage. Just as Alcer was reloading to further stack the odds in their favor, he heard a shout from down below that made things complicated again.

“He’s up in this one. I saw it!”

Shortly after, a spear whizzed up through the canopy and almost tore off Alcer’s leg, only barely sailing past his knee. Before he could react, a second followed, farther away this time. He pushed back his body until he leaned against the tree trunk again, his underside almost completely covered by the branches below him.

Like this, he would be relatively safe, but it wasn’t a permanent solution. If he was pinned down, they would lose their only advantage, the precision rifle, and would be taken out one by one. However, they weren’t quite out of options yet. While it wasn’t a secret weapon, he had another tool that could save them this time.

From behind his back, Alcer pulled out an elongated bamboo tube, similar to the signal flares the Saniya army had been using for years now.

“Throwing grenade!” he shouted, to inform his team mates of his next action. Luckily, the wind direction was in their favor and nothing would be blown towards his team members. With no worries, and while spears were whirring past his head, Alcer pulled the tab out of the tube and let it drop to the ground below. On the way down, the contents of the tube were already doing whatever they were meant to do, and smoke began to rise from the insides.

By the time it reached the ground, the tube released swathes of thick, noxious smoke with a hissing sound. In the meantime, another two javelins had been thrown. One of them was stuck in the branch below his leg, he had felt the heavy impact. Like this, he would be take down sooner or later, but now, the tide of battle would turn once again.

The warriors on the ground began to shout again, as they escaped the cloud of gas that had made them blind. Without their eyes, they couldn’t hit him from down below. And out of the grenade’s range, they couldn’t hit him any longer, and he would be able to pick them off one by one.

They tried to throw their javelins again from farther away, but dodging behind the tree trunk whenever someone threw something was easy. After a few seconds, Alcer had shot down one more of them, who had made himself open when he had been gearing up for a throw. Only then did the enemy leader order a retreat.

With their reduced numbers, the warriors no longer had an advantage in the formation battle, and they were no closer to dealing with Alcer either. If they stayed any longer, they would be in danger of being wiped out themselves. Although they would bring back knowledge of Saniya’s new weapons to their camp, pursuit was too dangerous, so Alcer decided to stay put.

While he watched the red-clothed enemies drag their injured team mates back into the depth of the jungle, the commander in the tree breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, they had survived the fight, and possibly even gotten through it with fewer losses than their enemies.

During most battles these days, the Saniya soldiers would lose more men than the warriors did. Now, with the new precision rifles, it seemed like they had a magic weapon to turn the tide of the war.

Once he could no longer see any red through the thicket and was sure that the warriors had retreated far away, he left the tree.

“Status report!” he shouted as soon as he was down.

“Captain, Umari, Oro, and Calli are dead! Kichka has been injured in the leg. It’s a puncture, pretty deep,” his second said in distress. Although they had won, their own losses were considerable.

“We’re retreating as well,” Alcer concluded. There was no point staying here and getting into danger again. Maybe there was another enemy team nearby and they wouldn’t survive another confrontation. On top of that, one of their own was injured and needed medical attention. It was safer to retreat first, and safety was always the biggest priority in Saniya’s army.

As they walked back through the same, overgrown path they had arrived from, Alcer once again removed the sweat from his brows. His handkerchief was soaked, and his boots were filled with mud.

All these years, victory had come all too easy for Saniya’s army. This time, things were different. Now they were stuck in the dirt, screaming and dying in a hundred tiny battles all over the island. If this was what a real war looked like, then Alcer didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

Though of course, he hadn’t even considered desertion. He had no intent to abandon his responsibilities to his men, but he no longer considered making a future with the military. Being a general sounded nice, but that was quickly outweighed by the thought of entering this jungle again tomorrow. On their way back to the beach, he was already planning for the end of his service, and what he would do with his life in the future.

Chapter 340 - Focus

Herak was equal parts annoyed and bored, as had been the case so often over these past years.

His arm swung down, and the axe head at the end of the handle sank deeply into the flesh. Lodged like this, he had to use his foot for leverage to get it back out again. By then, he had already made sure that the body was no longer breathing.

Only then could he move on to the next target. Although the work was monotonous, it calmed him down. At least here, he could feel like he did something meaningful for a while, and it also gave him some time to think, without hearing the constant yapping from the natives.

A one-sided battle. Thismust be what peace looks like to these barbarians, Duke Herak thought as he sank another axe into a downed enemy warrior.

The war in the north had been lasting for years now, and it seemed like neither side had any problem with it, as if constant warfare was the most normal thing in the world. Although the three medalan kingdoms had signed official peace treaties, all sides committed constant, tiny moves in secret to drain each other of resources.

Yes, King Pachacutec had ceded control over two of his northern estates. And the estates, together with their lords and people, had joined king Amautu’s northern kingdom. The two kings had even declared peace in public. Yet that didn’t mean that the fighting had stopped. It seemed like ‘false bandits’ was a favorite trick in these lands.

Ever since the end of the wars, no uniformed armies had drawn blood anymore. However, the number of mysterious bandit groups with excellent equipment, as well as the training and ability of proper warriors, had suddenly multiplied. It really wasn’t hard to tell who was behind the attacks either. Though it was never said out loud, no one was trying very hard to hide the truth.

The bandits he had fought in the years since the start of the ‘peace’ had been countless, and all of them had been part of that strange group of abnormally strong warriors whom they had faced in their war against the northern kingdom as well.

Since then, the spies of the central kingdom had been making some progress, at least in this one area. According to the translated reports he had seen, the strength of these new warriors was due to unique cultivation techniques from the Chutwa Empire, but that didn’t have much meaning to Herak.

Even with more muscle, these ones died just as readily when hit by a bullet. Rather than greater physical strength, modern guns were the weapons of the future. Over the same years it had taken the northern kingdom to train these people, his own men – as well as the craftsmen of the central kingdom – had successfully copied the rifles they had plundered during the war against the southern kingdom.

The new flintlock guns were excellent both in rate of fire and accuracy, though even the ones made by Borna’s best clock makers still seemed inferior to the weapons that Corco Fastgrade had brought north with him three years prior.

At the thought of his archenemy, Herak’s teeth ground audibly beneath his bronze mask. Only another split head of a fallen ‘bandit’ managed to still his anger, just barely. The little merchant was the reason he had been banished to this god-forsaken place, which had already wasted almost five years of his life. And the little merchant’s kingdom was also the reason he was still stuck here, with no end in sight.

The old Medala Empire that they had been dealing with in years past had split into three smaller kingdoms, just like Herak and his Arcavian allies had wanted. Back then, it had seemed like a smart move to them. With three kingdoms fighting for control over the peninsula, they would fall over each other to work with the kingdom of Borna, a powerful outside force that could give them financial support, as well as powerful weapons. In order to gain control over this little country, the kingdoms would make more and more concessions to Borna and Cahlia to gain their support.

By then, it would have been easy to achieve some measure of control over their three palaces, and gain the preferential trade deals that they were really craving. In truth, there wasn’t much to this place that attracted the kingdom of Borna, except maybe an abundance of silver.

Beyond that, these little kingdoms were only relevant because they happened to be in the way of a sea route to the Chutwa Empire, so free trade and safe passage was all they had wanted. However, their clever strategy of division was now the very thing that made work impossible for their merchants.

In the end, they hadn’t accounted for two things: The ambition of the greedy locals, and the easy access this region had to every other part of the world, not only to Arcavia.

Most of the local lords were not happy to see them, and even the ones that were all had their own plans with their presence. Many would abuse their positions and steal from them as much as they could in so-called ‘deals’, while giving back as little as possible. Stuck between the sinister plots of various factions, outnumbered and far from home, Herak’s own people drew the short end of the stick far too often during negotiations.

This was especially true for the southern king. As someone who used to be a merchant in Borna, Corco Fastgrade knew exactly how much a piece of Chutwaglaze would go for on a market back home. Worst of all, the little king had a personal vendetta against Herak and had done everything in his power to make things difficult for the duke.

As a result, the merchants of Cahlia were allowed to buy Chutwa products from the south, though at absurd prices, while those from Borna were still shut out. Like this, the merchant king had turned their dividing strategy against them. The Cahlians saw little reason to change the current status quo, where they could earn stable profits back home and show off their achievements in front of the Cahlian king.

In the meantime, the Bornish merchants still had to land at Porcero in the northern kingdom, and travel a long distance over a vast mountain range to get across Medala, which had proven to be a massive challenge. All the way, they would be hindered by conveniently appearing bandit groups or barbarians. And every time they talked to the local lords about security, those natives would complain instead.

Some were even audacious enough to use the chance and blame the attractive merchant caravans for the increase in banditry, only to then levy another tax on Borna’s people, to ‘fund the guards and guarantee peace along the route’. By now, Herak hated King Amautu almost as much as he did King Corco.

The northern king was another man who seemed uninterested in contact with the mighty heroes of Arcavia. After all, his own backing was just as impressive as that provided by the sons of Arcavus.

Behind the northern kingdom stood the Chutwa Empire, who seemed to have bankrolled King Amautu in an effort to spread their scholar ‘religion’ to this part of the world. Although he didn’t know how much the mighty Chutwa Empire really cared about some tiny country across the ocean, even a fraction of the golden empire’s power was enough to make the northern kingdom a frightening opponent.

Whatever plan the Chutwa scholars had for the northern kingdom, they no longer wanted to involve Borna into it. Over the years, they had made life for the merchants traveling their lands more and more difficult.

Thus, Borna’s only allies were situated in the central kingdom of Medala, and even their local king had begun to distance himself from them for some reason. On top of that, the north and center had fought in secret again and again, trying to tire the other side out. These instances had only intensified as the Triumvirate in the center of the country had stagnated. Over time, less and less work was being done in that place, with almost no overall policy being fashioned there for the empire, or any of its countries.

As far as Herak knew, none of the triumvirs – the three kings of Medala – had personally attended a Triumvirate Meeting in the past year. Thus, these secret wars had become the only ways in which the triumvirs communicated these days. Since the southern kingdom was cut off from the other two bar a thin strip of land, the battles mostly took place between the northern and central kingdoms.

And in order to retain their shaky position within the central kingdom’s power structure, Herak and his men had been forced into action more times than he cared to count. Again and again, they had launched frontal attacks against fake bandits to prove their worth to the local nobles.

This had been another one of these many battles. Over the past few days, Herak had led especially many charges against the ‘bandit camps’ across the border of Central Medala, reaching all the way into their supply camps in the northern kingdom. Though of course, none of this had been his own idea. As had become usual in these years, he was just following the orders of another local, in return for a price that was hardly worth the cost.

Another axe swing ended another life, which also ended Herak’s duty. At least at a glance, he couldn’t spot any survivors among the bandits. Whatever rabble was left under the pile of corpses could be handled by his knights. What else would he have subordinates for? In fact, there wasn’t much need for him to show up here in person. He had only come this time to let off some of his frustration. Though despite all the swings, he didn’t really feel much better today. Thus, he returned to the nearby town, to ruin someone else’s day instead.

The heroes who had wiped out the local bandit camps were welcomed back inside the city walls by a jubilant crowd, but the cheers stopped as soon as they saw the returning army, covered in blood. To them, their leader must have looked worst of all, red from his shiny mask to his boots and his bloody axe still in his hand. More than anything in this godless place, Herak enjoyed the fear others showed towards him. Since the locals had brought him nothing but grief, the least he could do was give them a bit of it back.

Like this, still caked in the blood of his enemies, he marched up to the local castle, where he ignored the fawning servants with the terrified expressions on their faces. He didn’t need them, since he knew where to go.

Just follow the stench of rosewater to find the richest man in the city.

That seemed to be a good method in this kingdom, where everyone was decadent and stank of flowers. In front of some garden’s entrance, Herak shoved one of the useless guards out of the way, until he reached his goal. Inside a pavilion stood the man who was so intent on using him as a weapon.

At the moment, the overambitious Governor Ichilia was in deep conversation with the local lord called Menius, one of his loyal dogs. They spoke their gibberish language, so Herak didn’t understand them. At one point he had learned a few words, but he had long stopped caring about the ideas of the foreigners. Most of the time, he didn’t need to understand them anyways, as was the case now.

They stopped talking as soon as they noticed his presence. The local dog tried to say some words to the duke, but was only stared down. As they always did, the man only lasted a few seconds under Herak’s gaze, before he lost his stomach. The dog exchanged a few more words of gibberish with Ichilia, before he left the garden with a distressed expression.

“Duke Herak, this governor thought you busy with the local bandits. What brings you back here this soon?” Ichilia finally asked in proper high Arcavian, seemingly unaffected by Herak’s martial appearance.

“I have already done your dirty work. Were you not expecting me to come back?” Herak sneered, though he wasn’t sure if Ichilia would see it under the mask. “Or rather, you would prefer if I never made it back in the first place?”

“Nonsense. Why would this governor wish ill upon his closest ally?” Ichilia asked with faked indignation.

“Then what am I doing here!?” Herak blew up, stepping right up to the lanky lord’s face. However, he saw that Ichilia remained unmoved, so he lowered his tone again, at least somewhat. “There is no point to any of these fights, so are these not just attempts to tire out my men? And what do we get in return? I have been doing your dirty work for you for years, and there has been no progress on any of your promises. Our merchants are still struggling to pass through your lands, and the southern king is just as alive as he has always been.”

“Are we not dealing with this problem now?” Ichilia asked, and stepped half a step back from Herak’s face. Although he barely showed any reaction, the duke still felt that the governor was at least somewhat affected by his intimidation.

Almost like he’s human, Herak thought. Irregardless of the duke’s thoughts, Ichilia continued.

“Now that the hidden warriors of the northern kingdom have been wiped out, they will not be a threat to our lands anymore, at least for a while. Our troops are ready, and free to move. Now we need only wait for the right time, and we are ready to begin our invasion of the southern kingdom.”

“You have told me the same tale for years. Do not take me as a fool? All these years we have fought those fake bandits for you, yet their numbers never dwindle. We destroy a wave, and that northern kingdom just trains another couple thousand elite warriors in no more than a few months.”

Although the local spies had found out that these warriors were the result of a Chutwa cultivation technique, Herak had a hard time accepting that there was nothing more to their training. These people were showing up too quickly, and they were too strong. There had to be a limit or weakness to this technique, somewhere. However, Herak didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t trust his useless allies to tell him anytime soon.

“And yet we win these months of peace every time,” his useless ally claimed. “Now that we have won some peacetime against the northern kingdom, we can simply take our troops down south, to deal with your enemy. Then, we only need to wait for the right opportunity to launch our all-out attack. With the southern kingdom under our control, your merchants will get to move freely through Medala at last.”

“And when will that be? The same words, every time.” Herak repeated. “My best man is stuck on some goddamned island in the middle of nowhere, fighting to keep that little king’s army busy. I already had to remove guards from our northern trade caravans to reinforce the troops there. How much more of the work do you expect me to do? Will you ever carry your own weight?”

“Not to worry. The war will begin soon. We are already in our final negotiations.”

Herak looked at the great governor’s expressionless face with derision. This man wore his face like a mask, harder and colder than his own. Behind his shallow smile, he was always plotting his little ploys. This was normal for the insidious locals, but this one was the worst of the bunch. No doubt, Herak himself was also a pawn in some grander plan in Ichilia’s head.

However, the duke himself didn’t care much, not anymore. He didn’t even care about those damn trade routes anymore. They were barely making any money anyways, and he would just be happy to get away from this wet place and its sinister people. So long as he got another chance at fighting Corco Fastgrade, he would be satisfied.

If only he could strangle that little merchant, every other problem could be solved. And if this governor wouldn’t fulfill his wishes soon, Herak would simply kill him, and then look for someone who would. After years of blind rage, he finally had his priorities straight. Now that he was focused, nothing would get in the way of his revenge.

Chapter 341 - His Entire World

Surrounded by half-empty bookshelves, King Pacha leaned over a map of the Medala Empire. This map depicted the territories of all the noble houses, as well as their allegiances marked in different colors. Unlike what the outside world may have believed, there were more than the colors of the three kingdoms represented on the table. Beyond the white of the north, the red of the center and the blue of the south, there were three more.

Gray represented the neutral lords, who had nominally declared for one of the kings, but mostly stayed out of the battle between them. This color also included those whose true allegiance Pacha couldn’t determine just yet.

Black territories were those controlled by the Orientals. For now, this was limited to a single piece of land, Port Ulta in the south. Far away and weak in strength, it was the least relevant for him at the moment, though it remained important to keep an eye on the development of the foreigners within his family’s lands.

For him, the most relevant was the yellow color, those houses controlled by his uncle, Divitius Ichilia, Governor of the West. When all the additional forces were added to the map, Medala’s true balance of power was revealed. It also made him realize just how lacking his own strength was.

His uncle controlled a good chunk of the lords that should have been beholden to him, mostly in the west, around the Ichilia stronghold Huaylas. His fellow kings in the north and south had also both taken land from him in the last war, though he didn’t miss the traitorous lords. Despite its nominal allegiance to the central kingdom, he didn’t control Port Ulta either. All in all, his strength was still the weakest among the three kings, though he had taken great pains to change that in the future.

Over the past few years, this map had been the main focus of his thoughts. He had won over a good few lords in that time, through various means. Some, he had offered important positions in his court. Others, he had offered more concrete benefits, like secret trade deals, or security of religion.

The last one had netted him the support of three estates already, and he could expect more to follow. Quite a few of the northern lords were deeply religious. That was especially true in the conservative eastern region, as it was true for the estates around the Sallqata mountains, where many of the country’s sites of pilgrimage resided.

These religious lords had grown unhappy with his brother Amautu’s flirtation with the western scholars over the years. As Amautu began to dress and talk more and more like someone from Chutwa, and as his brother’s Chutwa teacher gained more and more power there, the lords had lost hope for Amautu’s rehabilitation.

By this point, many had had enough of their king’s attempt to marginalize their religion, and would much rather serve a pious king. Thus, Pacha hadn’t hesitated to throw out his loose alliance with the Arcavians, at least on the surface.

Although they were useful to have around – since they provided good money and even better soldiers –  by now his own people had begun to copy the weapons he had retrieved from his war with Corco. While the rifles his craftsmen were making for him weren’t as good as the originals, they were still good enough to quickly create cheap armies that could rival any other.

With his own supply of guns and a steady stream of wealth from the silver mines around Arguna, the usefulness of the foreigners was, ultimately, limited. However, removing them from his lands had brought him great benefits.

Without any foreign influence to hold him down, he could present himself as the religious, and traditionalist candidate among the triumvirs. In that regard, his name alone was a big help. Some of the shallower religious lords simply liked the idea of an emperor named ‘Pachacutec’, which had opened him more than one door. With Corco’s escalating conflict with the high priests, he had taken over much of the goodwill his nephew had enjoyed before.

Yet despite his best attempts, he still looked like the third strongest power on the map, far behind both of his brothers. In truth, he really struggled with the intricacies of policy. It didn’t help that he didn’t have many trustworthy people around him. At least some of House Pluritac’s trusty old servants had remained by his side. Despite his questionable heritage, he was still a Pluritac, and still in charge of his family’s heartland. Around servants like Pallatio, he had been able to build a new advisory that could support him with diplomatic matters that were too much for him.

Still, sometimes he felt like his head was about to explode when he thought about the plans, plots, and ambitions all of his rivals might have. With a wistful sigh, he looked around the half-empty bookshelves all around him. Back when Corco had asked for the old emperor’s library during the peace deal, he hadn’t really cared.

As far as he had been concerned, the library didn’t have any use besides the maps inside it. However, now he yearned for the chance to call on the knowledge of his ancestors and use it to his advantage.

Pacha felt like he had matured a lot since then, but the ignorant, young man from a few years ago had done a lot of damage that he now had to fix somehow. Before he could return to the map that had been his life for the past few years, he heard the door behind him open.

“No need to overwork yourself, son. Please rest some time,” a familiar voice said. When he turned around, a gray-haired woman with a cramped smile had entered the room.

“Mother, what brings you here?” his voice was harsh, but his frown softened as soon as he saw his mother, Empress Mother Spuria Ichilia. Her poise was still as noble as ever, but there was a profound sadness in her eyes that had taken hold at some point and wouldn’t let go again. Her perfectly set hair had turned from a stately gray to a thin white, and the wrinkles around her eyes had become worse again since last time he had seen her.

Over the past three years, Pacha’s mother had aged visibly. Although he somewhat resented her for the position she had forced him into – and for the poor education and overblown ambition she had instilled into him – he didn’t want to see her suffer. However, this aged appearance was the result of her ownunreasonable ambition, never letting go of the ghosts in her past, always trying to solve problems that had long become irredeemable.

After the incidents of the succession war, the rumors of her infidelity and of Pacha’s father had persisted, which had ruined her reputation and forced her out of public life. Only three people were still willing to talk to her: Her brother Divitius, him, and his no-good father Caelestis, who had hidden away in the Ancestral Hall.

All these years, she had tried to force another alliance between the three sides, to regain the power over the palace that she had lost, and to return to times long past. However, Pacha had to worry about the very survival of his kingdom and didn’t have time to consider these things. Not to mention, he didn’t trust his uncle’s word or his father’s competence, so he wasn’t willing to work with either. He was sure that the others saw it similarly.

Yet even though she didn’t have any sway with anyone anymore, his mother still kept traveling around, between here, the Ancestral Hall, and Huaylas, hoping to reforge a bond that had long been broken. By now, age was starting to catch up to her.

“Does a mother need a reason to see her son?” Spuria asked. In response, Pacha suppressed an annoyed grunt and tried to remain calm.

“Mother, you have only just returned from Uncle Divitius,” he said. “You have barely rested, and you look exhausted. Why interrupt me in the middle of my work if you have no reason to come here?”

Rather than quibble more, his mother went straight to the point.

“Your uncle needs a favor.”

Since she had entered the room, Pacha had yet to offer his mother a seat, or tea. However, he made no attempt to do so, and she made no attempt to demand it.

“Oh? Does he want me to hand over my crown at last?” he asked instead, a sneer on his lips. At the mention of his uncle, he could already feel his suppressed anger breaking through.

“Pacha, please be reasonable,” Spuria said, stepping half a step forward before halting.

“I am! And I am not blind! He-” Pacha’s palm slammed on the map which showed his uncle’s plans, but then he interrupted himself. As he looked at his mother’s tired, saddened eyes, his anger disappeared. After a sigh, he continued. “What does uncle want?”

“Your uncle needs your support. He plans to start another war against the southern kingdom. As family, we need to work together, even more so when we fight against our common enemy.”

Spuria was now calmer than before, maybe secure in the knowledge that she still held sway over her son, if only out of pity. However, while Pacha would go easy on his mother, he was no fool.

“So he expects me to send more soldiers of mine to die for his causes?” he asked. “Last time I fought a war against the south, I lost three estates.”

“No, mother would never ask you for anything excessive. You only need to close down the southern border again and deny them supplies, only until the war is over.”

“Impossible.” Pacha shook his head, and looked over the mostly empty shelves around him, a constant reminder of his deal to his nephew Corcopaca.

“I am a man of my word,” he continued. “Open borders were part of our last contract with the southern kingdom. And the agreed time has yet to expire. But this is not only an issue of reputation, it is also an issue of character. I will not falsify my words, not for uncle or anyone.”

“Son…”

Pacha waited for his mother’s excuses, but the single word simply hung in the room for a while, like a magic spell meant to solve every woe. Calmer again, Pacha explained himself. Maybe then, his mother would finally understand.

“If I do as uncle wants, I will only be chastised in the Triumvirate Meetings again. Then, the representatives of the north and south will jump the chance to punish my kingdom, and they will use the opportunity to slander me in front of the other lords as well. What do I do then, when I lose even more support?”

“There is no need for them to know,” Spuria argued. “The official reason for the border closure could be anything, they need not know the truth. Just invent an excuse. Maybe the border is closed for now because of bandits. Once they slander you in court over the issue, you simply accuse them of endangering trade between the estates, and it would be their word against yours. There is no loss for you, and it would be easy to do.”

“Bandits again… the lords have no creativity left,” Pacha mumbled to himself, before he thought for a moment. In truth, this really wasn’t such a terrible thing to do. He didn’t have to invest many resources in closing down the border between the kingdoms, and navigating the Triumvirate Meeting around this wouldn’t be a big deal either. Finally, he came to a decision.

“This king can comply, but uncle will have to accept fewer of the imported Saniya fertilizer for next year’s harvest. That is the price he will have to pay. ”

“But-”

“We are family,” he finished his mother’s words. “I understand. But I am not my uncle’s servant. In fact, the Governor of the West is this king’s subordinate, by right. I am already making concessions by even considering cooperation at this point, so how could he expect me to do everything for no reward, when he does not even have the courtesy to come here in person, and has to send my exhausted mother to beg for him? If uncle wants me to do his dirty work, he needs to put up something in return to make it worth my while. That is my final word.”

It seemed like Spuria wanted to say something, but in the end, she let go and took back the half step she had stepped forward at the start of their conversation.

“I understand,” she said. Her voice was much calmer, as if she had let go of something, or understood something. Pacha hoped it wasn’t just an illusion. “I will be making tea in the salon. When you are done and ready with your work, it will be finished. Do not take too long, you are in need of rest as well.”

“Thank you, mother. I will not be long.”

For the first time since his mother had entered the room, Pacha managed a genuine smile. However, it disappeared as soon as she was gone, his mind already focused on estate politics again. If his uncle were to agree to the deal, it would bring nothing but benefits to the king of the center. The increased harvest from the extra fertilizer would be nice, but it was only a cover for Pacha’s real purpose.

All this time, Divitius had been distributing the fertilizer he had gotten through Pacha’s trade with the southern kingdom to his loyalists. With less supply, the estates around House Ichilia would receive less. Once they grew discontent, they would be ready for Pacha to win over.

While his uncle may consider that he would not have to pay a thing should he quickly conquer the southern kingdom in his attempt, Pacha knew better. His nephew Corco wasn’t that easy to take down.

With one good deal struck today, Pacha’s mood was lifted as he returned his eyes back to the map on the table. Even now, it was still his entire world.

Chapter 342 - The Final Piece

While Pacha was forging new deals with his dysfunctional family, young master Loreius Divitius Ichilia was busy putting together the final pieces of his own family’s plan. With all other pieces in place, he approached the final parts of the puzzle. Before him sat both Lord Vareo, owner of Port Ulta, as well as one Margrave Hakon of Padrava, representative of the foreign kingdom of Cahlia, just like the scary Duke Herak represented Borna.

All Loreius had to do was convince these two and win them over to House Ichilia’s cause. Then, their plan would be put into motion, and once rolling, would be almost impossible to stop. While this final step seemed like the most difficult, the young master was still confident. Once he got others in the same room and talking, things were usually easy for him.

“This tea is quite excellent,” Loreius opened.

Many of the more martial lords didn’t like this circuitous talk, but pleasantries were important. Those great warriors should have known that best. After all, pleasantries were the skirmishes of conversations, used to keep opponents off guard and occupied, while one slowly scoped out their weaknesses in preparation for a big attack. Luckily, the weaknesses of these two were obvious to make out.

“It is Chutwa tea, but a new blend from far away,” Lord Vareo said with pride in his voice over the compliment. “They say that this specific blend is a favorite of the lords in the immortal capital this season. If young master desires, this lord can provide a few bricks for him.”

While Vareo spoke, Loreius washed down the average tea with some food on the table before him.

“Of course,” he said with a smile that showed none of his real opinion. “The more the better.”

“Haha, young master tends to jest. This blend is quite expensive, far more than the average tea from Chutwa. And surely young master knows how pricey even the cheapest Chutwa tea is. This lord himself has only managed to procure a few scant bricks of it, and only dares to drink it on special occasions. So please excuse this lord that he can offer little more a tasting sample for Governor Ichilia at home.”

This was far too easy, Loreius thought. Already, the opponent had been moved into position, so it was time for the first mild jab. From Lord Vareo’s expression, it seemed like he only wanted to show off with his expensive tea, but somehow had managed to skirt along the subject of young master Ichilia’s visit already.

“This young master wonders… with all the extra taxes levied onto the tea, just how expensive would an entire brick of it be? Surely, Lord Vareo must have paid a pretty price for it.”

“Haha, since young master is curious to know, a single brick was sold for almost one hundred Sila. However, this lord does not mind the small expenditure.”

Loreius ignored the bragging and came to the point.

“What a shame then that supplies are limited. After all, those merchants only have so much money to buy goods with. With all the restrictions the southern kingdom has put on trade, they surely cannot carry much back to Port Ulta. If only that pesky southern king would lower his extortionate taxes somewhat, would it not be possible for lord to drink this favorite tea every day? What luxury that would be.”

While Loreius was still calmly imagining a vague future filled with excess for the lord, while hinting at Port Ulta’s supposed wealth, the young master observed his opposite’s movements. However, as he was still in search of subtle indications of Lord Vareo’s true thoughts, the lord simply abandoned all elegance and threw himself into a full charge.

“There is no need to skirt the subject, young master Ichilia. All here are well aware of House Ichilia’s plans for division in the southern kingdom.”

“Lord Vareo, this young master does not know what lord means,” Loreius replied in an attempt to retain the previous, calm atmosphere. However, it seemed like the local lord wasn’t willing to play along any more.

“Your allies from Borna have transported many troops here over the past few days. Your own house has sent supplies for war and stored them in warehouses on the edge of the port. You tried very hard to hide your tracks, but this city is still controlled by House Vareo. Something like this cannot be hidden from this lord’s eyes. The merchant has also informed us of your plans, and of the talks he has had with Lord Ogulno. There is no need to pretend anymore, this lord knows everything.”

Although Loreius had expected the first part of the reply, he was caught off guard by the second. He had in fact worked closely with the merchant called Kolbrandt Devaerter, a representative of both Arcavian kingdoms, united in their attempts to subdue southern Medala. Since the merchant would be more interested in unfettered and tariff free travel through Medala, his goals had aligned with House Ichilia, so he had been considered a safe cooperator by Loreius.

Apparently, he had thought too highly of the base and low merchant, who had turned around and betrayed him as soon as he had found a chance. Surely, his silence had been worth less than a few shiny coins, like a true merchant’s. However, Loreius wouldn’t let his frustration show on his face. There were much bigger things to consider now. With this open attack, the skirmish was over, despite his wishes, so he had to switch tactics and confront his opponent head-on if he didn’t want to be run over.

“In that case, Lord Vareo should also understand the benefits he stands to gain from this operation, should Lord choose to support our great undertaking,” Loreius said. Now that the topic was breached, the up-to-now silent Margrave Hakon spoke up to take over the negotiations.

“If this great undertaking creates chaos in the southern kingdom, then there is no need for it. The kingdom of Cahlia already has a sufficient trade agreement with the southern kingdom in place. Our merchants can freely and safely travel all the way to the Anticasa Pass, where they can buy all the chutwa wares they can afford. Because of the short route and stable environment, there is no need to invest any knights to protect our supply lines, and no need to go to war with anyone. So long as the southern king keeps to his promises, we can expect nothing but steady benefits. Why would we risk it all? Just to help your house win new territory?”

Unlike the unsociable Herak in the north, this duke had spent far less time killing the local population, and had invested far more effort into learning the Yaku language and customs. Compared to the mad dog in the north, this one was far more difficult to deal with, as far as Loreius was concerned.

“Of course we will not approach Lord Hakon with a one-sided deal,” the young master replied. “For one, there is no reason why your trade with the southern kingdom should suffer, even if the war were to break out. After all, our planned attacks will be limited. We will not send many troops, and aim to avoid large battles. After all, we will be sending our troops purely through the central hills of the Sachay peninsula, to attack the estates in the hinterland of the southern kingdom directly. You do your trade in the Anticasa pass in the north, while we will attack the center and south. There will be no disruption to your supply lines, and traveling from Saniya to the pass will be no more difficult for merchants than it has been up to now.”

“The supply lines are not the issue,” Hakon replied. “They will still stop their trade with us if they consider us their enemy.”

“Of course they will. But there is no need for them to know.” Before Loreius continued, he let his idea sit for a bit while he ate some more of the cut meats that sat on the table. Unlike the tea, he was enjoying these quite a but.

“All foreign soldiers can simply march under bornish flags,” he finally continued. “Duke Herak has already agreed to this. In that case, the kingdom of Borna would take all the blame for the attack, and it would be simple for you to deny any involvement. King Corco has been to your oriental lands himself, so he should be able to distinguish the two flags and cannot claim ignorance in that regard. If he were to make claims he cannot prove, it would only harm his reputation. Not to mention, there is no reason for him to lose all the income from Anticasa Pass at the start of the war, not over some vague suspicions. If everything goes as planned, the war will not last long. And it will end with a loss of power for the southern king, the same man who has put such impossibly high tariffs on your goods.”

“You want to exempt us from tariffs?” Hakon guessed.

“Once we have some political pull in the south, of course we will be eager to support our allies who helped us achieve our goals,” Loreius said vaguely. Talking to smart people was always a problem. The Margrave had preempted three steps in the young master’s explanation and jumped straight to his benefits based on the young master’s hints. While Loreius didn’t like being seen through, he could only agree in this form.

“And if we do not cooperate?” the duke asked, and tensed his muscles.

Just another empty gesture from a military brute, even if he is a bit smarter than the brute in the north.

“Then House Ichilia will be more than glad to cooperate next time,” Loreius said, as if he hadn’t noticed the provocation. “However, all benefits of this operation would be eaten by those who supported us this time. After all, that is only fair.”

As he leaned back in his chair, he could see the wheels turn in the foreigner’s head, no doubt weighing his options. His calculation wasn’t hard to guess for the young master. On the one hand, there were great benefits to be had should House Ichilia’s coup be successful. On the other hand, they could deny any involvement and suffer minimal damage should they fail.

In the end, support would get Hakon much closer to his goal of a stable trade route all the way to Chutwa, and that with very little initial investment of troops or money. At the same time, there was almost no risk involved. His decision was obvious.

“Very well. The kingdom of Cahlia will offer its support for your undertaking. However, all of this needs to remain strictly confidential.”

“Of course,” the giddy young master smiled. “House Ichilia does not benefit from betraying its allies, and has thus never made a habit out of it. Our house always thinks in generations and centuries. We do not consider short-term profits over long-term friendships, so trust is always our highest priority.”

Whether he believed it or not, Hakon had nothing more to say after Loreius’ reassurance. However, the local lord had sat there quietly all this time, but now he felt like chiming in again.

“Young master Ichilia, this lord is glad that young master and Margrave Hakon have found common ground today. However, what is House Vareo meant to think of all this?”

“What do you mean, Lord Vareo?” the young master asked, although he could guess the reason for the lord’s complaint. A frown on his face, Vareo replied in a grumpy tone.

“No matter what color uniform the soldiers will be wearing, they will always be launching their attacks from Port Ulta. While Cahlia will not make enemies with the southern kingdom like this, House Vareo certainly will. What happens if the southern kingdom counterattacks and reaches Port Ulta? Will House Ichilia stand with us, or will we stand on our own?”

“Was Port Ulta not already the enemy of the southern kingdom?” Loreius asked in an indifferent tone. Either this lord was silly, or he put up an act to gain greater benefits. “Since Port Ulta decided to surrender to the Arcavian armies three years back, it has been enemy to the southerners. In that regard, nothing will change with this new war. You are just as protected from their revenge as you have always been. You are still far away from their center of power, making any attack on their part difficult. You still have the full support of the Arcavians, and of the central kingdom, which includes House Ichilia. Your port still has the powerful oriental battle ships in its back, to protect it from any overeager land attack. Why would Lord be afraid all of a sudden? Rather, is this war not preferable to the previous state of things? If our operation succeeds, Port Ulta’s greatest enemy would be weakened, possibly even disappear. Not to mention…”

A smile crept onto the face of Loreius. At the same time, he leaned forward, as if he was about to reveal a great secret to his fellow conspirators. Making people feel like they were part of his group was always a good way to win people over. As predicted, the other two leaned towards the young master as well. Only then did Loreius continue.

“Once the southern kingdom falls apart, there has to be someone who picks up the pieces and delivers law and order to these lands,” he said. “This role requires someone experienced, and trustworthy. Someone like that would have to take control of Cashan and Qarasi Castle, for example. Lord Vareo, do you believe that Port Ulta is ready to shoulder this burden for the central kingdom?”

The lord’s eyes widened as his hunched posture righted itself again. Lured by the offer, he could no longer uphold his facade of hesitance, and showed his honest greed displayed on his face and in his words.

“Of course. House Vareo will do its duty, to prevent any upheaval after the war and guarantee lasting peace in Medala.”

With a smile, young master Loreius saw the last piece fall into place. Now the trap was laid, and the board was set. From now on, things would go their natural way, according to the plan he had worked out with his father.

Soon, there would be unrest in the southern kingdom between the king and his lords. Maybe they would try to set aside their differences in the face of outward aggression, but some rumors would quash those attempts quickly. After all, could the king still work with his lords, if their various deals with outsiders were to be revealed? With a little bit of pressure in the right place at the right time, the situation would grow out of control soon.

And then, at the right moment during their civil war, House Ichilia would step in from across the Narrow Sea, to control the situation and ‘restore peace’. Their soldiers would soon leave again, but they would keep their hold over the southern kingdom through their agents like Lord Vareo and Lord Ogulno.

At that point, House Ichilia would control not only the entire southern kingdom, including the extremely profitable trade route to Chutwa, but also the rich city of Saniya. Even now, his people were working on their versions of Chutwaglaze and purple dye, based on the efforts of his spies. So far, there had been no success, much to Loreius’ annoyance.

Soon however, they would no longer have to tinker with vague recipes and temperatures, and could simply take all the valuable technologies out of the hands of the southern king. On top of the southern kingdom, they already controlled half the central kingdom. Together with their connections to Arcavia and to most of the colored kings in the Verdant Isles, House Ichilia would become the strongest force in Medala over night.

At that point, even the stubborn brute Pachacutec would have to give in and finally bow his head to the power of Huyalas. And by then, the confrontation with the north would only be a formality. All this time, they had dreamed of an Ichilia atop the silver throne of Arguna. Now, finally, they had almost reached the goal they had set generations prior.

And the best part was that, so far, they had invested none of their money, and none of their soldiers. They were happy to let others do the work for them, and then reap the rewards. Now, all they needed was the right opportunity. As soon as the merchant king left his mountain of gold for his wife in the western ocean, it was time for them to make the final moves, and taste the fruits of victory.

Chapter 343 - Machines

One by one, Corco carefully checked the brass sliders in front of him, as well as the complex machinery that connected to it behind. In the end, he saw one that didn’t properly grip the corresponding gear inside the machine, possibly because the shaft attached to the gear was bent by a degree or so.

On a workbench nearby, Corco found a wrench, which he used to apply some careful tension. This way, the shaft bent back into shape. It wasn’t a proper solution, but it would do for this first experiment. Once his work was done, he continued to check the remaining moving parts on the front of the machine.

For once, Corco got to experience what real, hands-on work felt like. It wasn’t bad, and a welcome distraction from his usual jobs in the castle and the school. Even when he did some amateurish engineering, it was usually limited to drawing blueprints for future infrastructure projects. Thus, he was happy to get his hands working for once, and to smell the wood and copper of the machine.

With the parts right before him, everything felt so much more tangible, as if the future was only half a step away. After he had checked all the parts, he rose back up from below the large table that housed the machine.

“That should be everything on my end,” he said. “I don’t think that one driver shaft will hold long since it’s all bent out of shape, but it’s just a prototype anyways. We can always replace it later. So how is it looking with you?”

Master Egidius stood up from the other side of the table and rubbed the grease off his hands with a towel. As he spoke, he walked around the table and next to Corco, to the front of the machine.

“There should be no major problems, King Corco,” Egidius said. “Although it remains to be seen whether or not the carry operation will properly function. One way or another, it is time to make another attempt.”

When he heard that they could go for another trial run after the machine hadn’t worked properly the first time, Corco got excited right away. Actually, he had only come to this house on Chukru Island to invite Egidius as a teacher for his future university. After all, getting the smartest mind in the city – as far as Corco was concerned – involved in teaching and research seemed as obvious as it was beneficial.

However, the king hadn’t even gotten a chance to breech the topic. When he had entered the house, Egidius had been in his workshop, putting together the finishing touches on his newest project. Since then, both of them had been distracted by the shiny toy in front of them, working towards this very moment.

This was a mechanical calculator, the first of its kind ever created in this world. While Corco had worked on the concept on and off for years, it had taken Egidius to iron out the kinks and turn the king’s blueprints into the reality before them. For a moment, both of them just stood and admired the machine made from shiny brass and polished wood, both with their hands on their hips, eager too start but too giddy to know where.

“Okay, what should we try first?” Egidius asked first. “Maybe something more complex, to really test the limits of the new machine?”

“You know, it takes multiple pages to prove that one plus one equals two. But once you can prove that, you sorta unlock the entire rest of mathematics. That’s pretty complex. So why not start with that?” Corco mused in reply.

Although he was pretty sure that he was technically correct, he was happy that Egidius didn’t ask him any follow up questions. If he were asked to recreate the proof for ‘1+1=2’, he would be utterly in over his head.

To his luck, it seemed like Egidius couldn’t quite follow along with the conversation for once. After an awkward pause, he simply said, “One plus one then,” and began to input the number on the slider in front of them.

He first pulled down the slider that Corco had just been working on until the number above the slider read ‘1’. Then, he moved to the crank at the side of the machine, and pushed it in, to set the machine to ‘addition’. For now, only addition and zeroing operations were possible, but Corco hoped they could include all four standard operations soon. While multiplying would already be possible in theory, it would remain a pain so long as they couldn’t just switch between decimal places.

As Corco was thinking about the future, Egidius finished up the operation. He turned the crank, and both of them stared at the long string of numbers atop the desk, where the final result would be displayed. Inside the table, the gears were turning with a clicking and clacking, until the rightmost wheel gripped onto one of the staggered drums and connected the crank’s rotation with the number wheel on top. With large eyes, the two watched as ‘00000000’ turned to ‘00000001’.

Although the final result was already obvious, they hadn’t quite put one and one together yet. Without a word, Egidius turned the crank a second time. This time, the results row read ‘00000002’.

“It works!” Egidius exclaimed.

“Fucking hell, we’ve built a calculator!”

While 1+1=2 didn’t seem like much, this was the most important first step, that would eventually lead to fully automated calculators. Too excited to talk, the two stared at the numbers as Egidius kept spinning the crank around.

‘00000003’

‘00000004’

…

‘00000009’

Finally, they reached the magic number.

With the final turn of the crank, the numbers changed again. The right-most digit turned over again, returning to ‘0’. At the same time, the second digit also finally moved, showing a final result of ‘00000010’.

Although the effect looked simple, carry operations – like carrying the one over to the next larger decimal during addition – were one of the big problems mechanical calculators had to overcome. Luckily, everything seemed to be working as expected with their prototype machine.

“The staggered drum was an inspired design, King Corco. It solved too many problems to count,” Egidius said, a big grin on his face.

“Well, yeah. It’s really clever. I didn’t come up with it though.” As always, Corco was a bit uncomfortable when he got praised for the work of others, so he wasn’t willing to take credit.

“Oh? Then where did it come from?”

“I saw it in a book,” Corco lied. He couldn’t exactly say that he saw it on the internet, could he?

“Either way, it is a stroke of genius, one that has unlocked countless possibilities.”

“Yeah, that’s what we should focus on.” Corco chanced the topic. “For now, the goal should be to add the remaining three operations. Once we can use the machine to conveniently subtract, multiply and divide, we’re almost there.”

“Subtraction should be simple enough if we use nine’s complements. We only need an additional setting for the crank, though the number of drums inside would have to double. I may have to make a more compact designs for that, or the machinery will no longer fit underneath a table,” Egidius mused.

“I actually have some design ideas in that regard. More stuff I saw in books. If everything works well, we won’t need any more drums than what we already have.”

“In that case, I am looking forward to it. Subtraction is the last big operation we need to implement. After all, multiplication is already possible. We only need to turn the crank as often as we do the multiplication.”

“I mean… that works, but it seems slow, and really inefficient. I’d prefer it if we could shift the entire operation over to higher decimal places.”

“I understand. That way, we only need to turn the crank a maximum nine times per decimal for any kind of multiplication.”

“Even less if you include subtraction,” Corco remarked.

“That… is absolutely true!” a wide-eyed Egidius said. “In that case, if we wanted to multiply by twenty-eight, we could simply turn the crank on the ten’s-decimal three times, then put it into the subtraction position and turn it twice on the one’s-decimal.”

Again, Corco was surprised by how fast the clock maker’s brain worked. A single hint had been enough to make him understand the basic principle completely, even though none of these mechanisms had been built yet, by anyone, anywhere. Sometimes, he was jealous of the man’s ability to abstract things in his head, but at least for now, his prior knowledge was enough to let him keep up, and to direct the genius of Egidius into the right direction.

“Right. So when we have all the operations in there, we need to test the machine thoroughly. Then, when everything looks right, you should build a few more of them. Don’t worry about the details. I’ll make sure you get your patents. And as for sales, the various government offices in the castle will take them off your hands. We really need to streamline our operations anyways.”

Corco was already looking forward to all the free time he would have once he didn’t have to do all his calculations by hand, and slide rule, anymore. Brym would be even happier to receive one of these. With all the numbers his financial department had to juggle every day, the machines would have the biggest impact there, just in time before the stock market opened.

“It will be done,” Egidius said. “However, I may need more help than my apprentices can provide. These machines are difficult to build, and complex.”

“Not a problem. Just think about your requirements, write a list and send it to the castle. I’ll take care that you get whatever you need to fulfill the order.”

Now that he was about to set up another industrial system, Corco was getting giddy again. This calculator was a massive step forward for his country. First, the castle, which was constantly short on bureaucrats, would finally have some room to breathe. From there, they could make the calculator design more compact, and cheaper, and then arrive at tabletop calculators and mechanical cash registers.

In fact, this calculator design could also set a precedent and help speed up the development and production of typewriters. He could already feel the increased efficiency and added free time in the office! Maybe he would have some time to compose music soon… impossibly, he may even see his wife more than once a month.

Excited about the future that was in his sight, his eyes returned to the beautiful machine that had made it all possible.

“Let’s do some more tests!” he said, eager to play around some more.

“We need to, there is practically no other choice,” Egidius agreed.

Immediately, the clock maker started with the zeroing operation. Once he pulled on the crank, it jutted out of the machine by a centimeter or so. When Egidius turned it by a full rotation, the numbers on top all returned to zero, and the table was ready for the next operation.

This time, the number put in the sliders was ‘00000128’, which was cranked once. Then, Egidius changed the sliders to ‘04002999’ and turned the crank again. Inside the machine, a mesmerizing ballet of cogs and wheels turned each other, until the numbers on the top read ‘04003127’.

Giddy like children, the chief weapons expert and the ruler of the kingdom played around with their newest toy for a long time after. However, the fun times could not last forever. After a several more operations, the door to Egidius’ home workshop opened.

“Husband, are you still in here?”

The clock maker’s wife Ella entered, with a young boy held on her arm. The little one seemed sleepy, his eyes half-closed. This was the couple’s son Sami, as Corco knew. When he was born, the king had been busy with work as usual, but since then he had visited the workshop several times, and had become acquainted with both the kid and the mother. However, as a Yaku who had grown up under the old rules, Ella was still very stiff around him.

“Please excuse this mortal’s rudeness, King. This mortal was unaware that king was still present.”

“It’s fine.” Corco waved off her concerns. “There’s no need to act that stiff around me. Actually, just pretend I’m not here. I really should be going.”

She still looked a bit unsure, but some encouragement from Egidius refocused her mind on the reason she had entered here in the first place.

“Husband, food has been ready for an hour. When will you come?”

“But… this needs to be thoroughly tested!” Egidius protested quietly.

“Will your machine go cold if you do not test it now?” Ella asked, now much firmer than she had been with Corco.

“It… no, however-”

“Well, your food will.” Ella sighed. “I asked you an hour ago to come eat. What are you doing?”

“I… did not notice.”

At this point, even Corco was embarrassed. He also hadn’t realized that someone had entered the workshop. It seemed like both of them had been far too engrossed in their work.

“Honestly, I married the only clock maker in Saniya who cannot tell the time. Please finish up soon and come eat.”

With that, Ella bowed to Corco and closed the door again. Embarrassed, Egidius turned to the king as well.

“So, you heard it… In that case… King Corco…”

“It’s fine, spend some time with your family,” Corco interrupted him. “Like I said, I have taken up far too much of your time, and need to get back anyways.”

Soon after, Corco apologized to Ella and left the house. Only when he was already on the street did he remember that he hadn’t offered Egidius the university position like he had planned. However, he wouldn’t come back now and disturb the couple. Although it was a shame he couldn’t play with the calculator some more, even with that new excuse, there was always more time to do both in the future. Plus, he hadn’t lied. In the castle, there were also many important jobs waiting to be done.

Though as soon as he came back, he realized that he wouldn’t get any of them done, because Fadelio was already waiting for him at the entrance, with a piece of paper in his hands.

“Master, you’re finally back.”

“What’s going on? Do we finally have some concrete leads on the next war?”

Over the past months, Saniya’s ghosts had reported increased activity from various forces in the city and around the kingdom’s borders. It seemed like Port Ulta was shipping in more and more soldiers, so Corco had already strengthened defenses on the Anticasa Mountain Pass. At the same time, there were some strange movements from other parties as well. Though so far, they had nothing concrete yet.

“Not quite yet,” Fadelio replied. “But we just received a new radio message from Rasacopa. If you hadn’t come right now, we would have had to send someone out to find you.”

He handed Corco the message in his hand.

“So it’s important,” the king concluded.

“The captains want to talk,” Fadelio summarized the message.

“They’re finally ready to give in, huh?” Corco said after he had read the message in full. “Looks like I’ll need to get back to Rasacopa for now, and bring our soldiers home. It’s about time we start clearing out our own backyard, for good. Only then can we start thinking about our outside enemies.”

On the morning of the next day, Corco’s fleet set off towards the Green Island again, to negotiate peace with the captains of House Hulpatec. However, the internal peace the king wanted wouldn’t be quite so easy to come by.

As he left, his fleet was watched by many hidden figures, from various parts of Medala, and the world. All with their own agendas, they saw the king’s departure as the starting line for their own great plans. With their greatest obstacle away from the city, the hidden forces eyeing Saniya were ready to move.

Hermit's Notes: This chapter might be boring for some, sorry about that. Mechanical calculators are fascinating, so I may have gone a bit overboard.

Chapter 344 - Reigning in the Opposition

When Atau’s fleet docked in Rasacopa’s harbor with Corco on board, preparations had already been made for the king’s arrival. With the new radio, announcing and planning these things early had become much easier. There was no longer any need to send a ship with envoys ahead of the fleet.

As soon as Corco stepped onto land, he was picked up by a palanquin that would carry him to the Green Palace. Inside, he once again met with Maci’s unfun maid-and-bodyguard-combo called Llamka.

“King Corco, welcome back,” the maid said as soon as he sat down inside.

“Thanks. So you’re here for some sort of briefing?” Her purpose for meeting him ahead of time wasn’t hard to guess, but Corco still needed some way to get the conversation going.

“The negotiations have already begun, so Queen Sumaci thought it best if King was informed on the newest developments before he entered the palace, as well as on Queen’s exact strategy,” Llamka explained.

“So, where do we stand then?”

“Ten days ago, the captains finally relented and offered to negotiate. In this case, they could not be kept waiting, since the chance to pressure them during the early meetings was rare. Thus, they already entered into talks with the palace three days ago.”

The maid looked at Corco with a guilty expression. Since she was originally a citizen of Saniya, maybe she thought that acting without him was somehow a betrayal. Of course, Corco didn’t care one bit. In fact, he would much rather have seen the whole thing resolved before his arrival, so he didn’t have to deal with it. When Llamka saw that the king didn’t care that they had started without him, she continued.

“Although Queen Sumaci wanted to wait until King’s arrival, the captains were very insistent.”

“They probably couldn’t handle the pressure of their own people any more.”

“That is our guess as well. These days, everyone on the island is talking about the crewmen aboard the raidships, and how their fates are bound to the captains. How they are no better than slaves under those who should have equal status, and how they want liberation. Even the commoners openly talk about it, without fear of those with higher status. Recently, a captain wanted to depart the island on a raid, against the orders of Queen Sumaci. After the captain ignored some dissenting voices from the crew, there was a mutiny among his men. With the help of a few loyalists, the captain managed to escape with minor injuries, but it seems to have really scared the other captains awake.”

“Good. You can’t play little dictator for years and not expect a revolution.”

You have to show restraint when you play dictator, like me. Of course, he wouldn’t say that out loud.

“I guess they’ve finally seen the light then, huh?” he asked instead. “They should be about ready to bow their heads, right?”

“To our surprise, that is not the case. Negotiations have been going for three days, yes, but so far, there has been almost no progress. To retain their reputation and status, the captains bitterly demand ludicrous concessions from Queen Sumaci for their loyalty, but she is not willing to give them any.”

“And why would she? Maci holds all the cards. At this point, these captains should fall over themselves to save their own skins. They should be happy if they get to keep the money they’ve stolen and then hidden away from their house over all these years. Expecting any more is insane.”

“That would be reasonable, but that is not how the captains see it. From their actions so far, it seems like they have only entered into negotiations to appease their crews.”

Corco watched the maid for a second as he thought about her words. Though it didn’t take long until he understood the strategy of the captains. There really wasn’t much to it beyond basic crisis management.

“So they wanna wait it out until their people have calmed down from the initial anger over the rumors. And then they want to go back to business as usual, I guess?” Corco tried to confirm his guess, which Llamka promptly did.

“It appears so. Most likely, they will delay the negotiations for a few days more, while they also try to talk to their crews in private. And then, once they have everything in position, they will storm out of the talks, and spread the word that they wanted to cooperate, but the queen is ‘tyrannical’ and does not show sufficient ‘honor’ to lead the captains. So she needs to be resisted, or at least that will be their argument, we assume.”

“The usual.” Corco moaned, remembering all the troubles he had endured with his subordinates in Saniya so far. “Why do these people always have to be so difficult? At least once, I want things to go smoothly.”

“In that case, King may have come at the right time.”

A rare smile bloomed on Llamka’s face. It really didn’t suit her, but Corco didn’t feel like critiquing her expressions. Instead, he muttered a succinct “Huh?” to drive along the conversation.

“The stalling tactics of the captains have only been useful over the past few days,” the maid explained. “For today, Queen has devised a strategy to counter their plans. Surely, King will be able to watch an exciting breakthrough in the talks today, and possibly even provide the final blow himself. With King here, everything will be even easier than initially planned.”

With a sly smile that still felt strange on the stoic maid, she explained Sumaci’s plan and Corco’s role in it, while they moved closer to the palace. When they arrived there, the king was led to the grand salon where negotiations were taking place, though he didn’t enter for now.

Instead, Llamka led him to a side chamber next to the salon. The room was small and dark, but it wasn’t meant for sitting anyways. From here, he could listen in on the talks next door, which was the room’s sole purpose.

Through a small hole in the wall, Corco watched the happenings inside. Immediately, he realized what Llamka had been talking about when she had explained Sumaci’s counter strategy. Although he was informed on what would happen today, seeing it with his own eyes felt very different.

The room was taken up completely by one giant table, which had a map of the Verdant Isles etched into its wood. All the captains sat on one side, while Sumaci and her allies sat on the other, with a wide space between them.

This wasn’t the first time Sumaci had met with the captains, but the mood felt different. In the earlier meetings before Corco had left, the captains had looked haughty, as if they were the ones in charge. At best, they had looked indifferent to Sumaci’s honest attempts at reconciliation. Either way, they had always been uncooperative and demanding. Now however, they looked cramped, or enraged. Without a single spoken word, it was obvious that they were the ones on the defensive now.

Although Corco had thought that their anger would be directed at his wife who was working against them, they were actually staring at the men who sat below Sumaci’s seat, on her side of the table.

“As you can see, brave captains, I have brought a few guests to bear witness to our conversation today,” Sumaci said with the kind of smile she always got when she was about to ask him an especially tricky question during a lecture.

“What is this nonsense!? Why would ordinary warriors be present during these important talks!?” one of the captains shouted back. From the way the others were sitting all around him, Corco could guess that he was the leader of the bunch, though he didn’t exactly show the calmness expected of a leader.

“Captain, does that mean you are not an ordinary warrior?” Sumaci sounded surprised and opened her eyes in faked shock. Still, the smug smile couldn’t or wouldn’t be hidden.

“Of course! We are-” Maybe the captain was an idiot, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot. At least he caught himself mid-sentence, before he made the worst of mistakes. With a face still heavy from anger, he stared over at the warriors again, who looked back without fear.

Internally, the captains must have hated them for their courage, or for their treachery. Now that they had found a new backer, the warriors immediately betrayed the captains who had paid and fed them all these years. The fact that, maybe, the captains hadn’t taken good care of their crews, and that the reason for their ‘betrayal’ was justified, wouldn’t even come to their minds.

Still, they couldn’t openly admit that they considered themselves above the average warrior. By right, warriors and captains were part of the same class, and admitting anything else would put the captains in the same tough spot that Captain Tayali had enjoyed not long ago. So beyond a mean look, the leading captain could offer nothing in defense.

Once he had calmed down, he said in a calmer tone, “Of course we are all warriors,” thus keeping the great illusion of the Verdant Isles alive.

“Then there is no problem, is there?” Sumaci pressed on. “This negotiation is between House Hulpatec, and the warriors of the house. All warriors below this Queen are of equal class and equal status. So if the captains are allowed to negotiate with this Queen, then surely the other warriors would at least be allowed to listen in.”

“Of course. There are no complaints.” He looked like he would like to complain a lot, but Sumaci ignored his sour face.

“In that case, we should continue where we left off yesterday,” she said instead. She waited for a while, if any more of the captains would walk into her obvious trap. When she saw that they weren’t quite dumb enough for that, she simply started with her prepared show.

“As we discussed yesterday, I demand loyalty from my warriors, the same loyalty the warriors of House Hulpatec have shown to the masters of the house since the founding of the Colored Islands. But, like any master of the house before me, I will not demand this loyalty for nothing in return. This has always been a mutual relationship, and nothing will change that. So, my offer from two days ago still stands. You return to the role you are meant to hold. You fight for the island, on the orders of the house, which will not only serve me, but will also protect your own home, and your own families. In return, I will go one step further than any Green Kings and Queens before me. I will break with old traditions, and remove one of the great restrictions of the warrior class. In the future, all warriors will have the right to own private property. I believe this offer is more than fair, and should quell your concerns. After all, you wanted me to make concessions, right? Well, here it is.”

Although Corco was hidden behind a wall and could not see everything from this distance, he could still tell how uncomfortable all the captains were based on their postures. It wasn’t hard to guess why. All these days, they must have rejected the exact same offer, since they wouldn’t personally benefit from it. They already had all the money they could ever want, and many of them had agents among the commoners who already ran businesses on their behalves.

Now however, Sumaci had called representatives of ordinary warriors to listen in on their talks. If they were to reject the deal again today, they would openly speak up against the rights of their own crews, who would benefit from this deal. Soon, the word would spread, and they would have to deal with more than just onemutiny. The very basis of their power was under threat here.

As a result, it took them a while to gather their thoughts, before their leader spoke up again.

“Of course, this is fantastic news.” He didn’t sound like he thought it was fantastic news. “However, while we would love to accept Queen’s offer, there are many more issues that concern us, which have not been addressed. To the captains of the Green Island, this was never an issue of loyalty. No one wanted to lay down their arms during a time of crisis. Going against the wishes of the house hurt the heart of all brave captains. However, we could not, in good conscience, watch as the house is taken over by foreigners.”

“Looks like it’s my time to enter,” Corco whispered to the maid, and made his way to the front entrance of the room. While he was walking, he could still hear the captain make his made-up case inside.

“After all, most guards in the palace hail from foreign lands these days. Many members of the court are foreigners, most with undue power. Even our wars are being fought by foreign warriors at this very moment. And in the city, the house is training an army of commoners to replace us. All of this, all these plans, suggested by a foreign king who hides in the shadows, whose real goals cannot be known. Where is our place in the future of this kingdom? Would we not simply be used, and then thrown aside once we are no longer needed? These are the worries that drive our thoughts. What will happen to all the warriors of the island, to us and our crews? Even if they are allowed to own property, they cannot live if they have no sense of living.”

As the captain talked, a murmur rose in the room. It looked like in his absence, Corco had become the main villain of this play. Although he didn’t doubt that his girl had an answer to this question as well, there was no reason to let the charade continue on like this. Instead, he simply shoved open the entrance, and put an end to the whole thing, just like Sumaci wanted.

As soon as he entered, the entire room turned quiet, but he didn’t care at all about the jokers staring at him with a mixture of surprise, guilt, and anger. He walked right past all the captains and warriors, without even acknowledging them. As he sped towards Sumaci, she stood up to meet him, which meant that all the warriors had to follow suit and stand as well, whether they wanted to or not.

“Welcome back, husband,” Sumaci said. Although her words were formal, she didn’t hide her smile.

“Little student!” Corco shouted, and embraced his wife, far less concerned with etiquette. The two stared at each other, their faces close together, until Corco said, “I’m back.”

Unfortunately, the touching moment didn’t last. Not even here could the captains show any kind of class.

“Uhumm…” One of them coughed to get their attention. When Corco looked over, he realized that it was the same man who had led the discussion this entire time.

“What?” the king asked in an annoyed tone. Before the captain could even answer, Corco continued. “Your only problem is that my soldiers are taking over your work, right? So we’ll just stop training the commoners and I’ll retreat my men from active battlefields. I’ll just keep a minimal contingent here in Rasacopa, to protect my wife’s safety. Surely, that won’t be a problem, right?”

“No, it would-”

“In that case, it sounds like we’re done here. Nothing more to argue. You can fuck off now, while I spend some quality time with my wife.”

After he was done with his little speech, Corco went right back to ignoring the captains. While talking to Sumaci about the new calculator he had built, the two left the room through the back door arm in arm. Meanwhile, the perplexed captains just watched in stunned silence. Whatever the captains thought would happen here, they surely hadn’t expected this.

In the end, they had gotten exactly what they had asked for, without any negotiations, and all of it had happened in front of a group of warrior witnesses. Whatever plans they may have had to delay the talks further were out the window now. From tomorrow on, their defiance could no longer be justified.

Though soon, they would realize that Corco’s concessions hadn’t just happened on a whim, and that he hadn’t conceded because he didn’t want to be bothered by them today. Rather, this had been part of Sumaci’s strategy – as the maid had explained on their way here – and Corco was more than happy to follow along.

He really had enough of protecting two kingdoms with his one army. Too many of his people had pointlessly died in wars on tiny islands. And from the reports, the most recent battle on Iskay Island sounded like a nightmare. From now on, the local captains could bleed and die in that place.

For the King of the South, it was time to get out of the endless war zones and bring his men home. After all, there had been several reports of brewing unrest in Saniya already. Once his men were back from overseas, and his entire army was back together, it was time to clean up the dissent at home, and finally become a proper monarch, rather than ‘the first among equals’.

Chapter 345 - Open Contempt

Although negotiations ended quickly, the logistics of it all weren’t quite so easy to resolve. While the captains had no choice but to give in and return to their previous role as servants under their Queen the following day, transferring soldiers in an active war zone wasn’t that easy.

On the Rasacopa side, the scattered warriors needed to be formed into a coherent army. This wasn’t exactly easy, since they couldn’t just be sent there with the captains in charge of their crews. After all, breaking up the power of the captains had been the entire reason they had fought them.

As a result, there was still some pointless wrangling over who would be in charge of what for a few more days. Even after all of that, the warriors still needed to be mobilized and transported into battle. At the same time, their supplies needed to be organized as well.

Only when they had arrived and properly taken over all responsibilities could the Saniya soldiers retreat from Iskay Island. As a result, it took Corco almost two weeks before he could take all his troops and get on his way back home. In the meantime, things were moving quickly on his kingdom’s eastern borders.

On a quiet, early winter morning, on an endless, rolling field of green grass heavy with dew, a cowherd drove the fifty livestock entrusted to him towards their daily meal. Although his own rations were not much more opulent than the grass of the cows, he enjoyed his work. Out in the open, no one would bother him, so he could be lazy all he wanted. Work was easy, and calm, and there was no threat anywhere to be found.

Only a few years earlier, the cowherds had moved in much larger teams. Because of the constant threat from bandits, some had been in charge of herding the cows, while others had protected them. Since King Corcopaca had taken over the kingdom and built all those new roads, the bandits had all fled back into the hills. The cowherd’s work had become a whole lot easier as a result. Now, most of the more ambitious cowherds had left the hills, either to find work in the nearby town, or to search for luck in the distant Saniya. He, however, had stayed here, untainted by ambition.

Accompanied by a satisfied grunt, he sank down along an old pine tree that stretched its crooked trunk out of a shallow little hill’s flank. From here, he could see the grazing cattle while he ate his dinner. Eating early was a bad habit, and he knew it, but for once, there was no one here to give him any orders. Not even his uncle could order him around out here. Thus, he unpacked the plain rice balls from their cheap paper package and dug in with great relish, while he watched the clouds roll by.

Unlike most of Yakuallpa, the weather here in the hills was always predictable, another thing the cowherd was fond of. Here, he didn’t have to fear any storms, or floods, or earth tremors. This far inland, it rarely rained, which made agriculture difficult and was part of the reason for their poverty. Though of course, the cowherd would have never seen any of the wealth anyways, so he was content with his lot.

In the end, all he had to care about was the cold, but it wasn’t deep winter yet, so he could imagine shapes into the clouds all day without concern. Sometimes, he felt like one of the great priests, predicting the future from the signs of nature. This was no more than an idle thought on any other day, but today was different. Today, the cowherd saw a cloud that was nothing like the others, one that would prove a dark omen.

This one hung low, like fog, but was brown like dirt. As he watched, the cloud slowly moved towards him and his herd of cows. He didn’t even realize when he stood up with grains of rice still hanging from his lips. By the time the remaining rice balls fell down into the grass, he could make out the figures hidden in the dirt cloud. Thousands of men were walking through the hills, westwards, towards his position. They were armored, and armed with spears, shields, and other killing instruments.

Behind them marched a long snake of even more people, donkeys, llamas, and wagons, far too many to count. This cloud hid an army beneath it, and it hadn’t come from the capital. How  could such an army appear out of the empty hills in the east? Had the bandits formed their own secret kingdom? Had evil spirits taken shape somewhere inside these hills, and now come back for revenge? The cowherd had heard stories like this from his elders, but he didn’t have time to consider truth or falsehood.

Without another coherent thought, he turned and ran. He left behind not only his dropped meal on the hills, but also the herd he was supposed to take care of. Soon, the cows would turn into additional supplies for the Arcavian army that had just crossed into the territory of the southern kingdom.

However, the cowherd knew nothing about it, nor did he care. He was focused on running back to the place he had come from. Soon, he came back to a little town at the very edges of the Utusku territory. Long before he entered the town itself, he could see the early signs of civilization.

All the way out here, the roads were of high quality, newly built by the southern king. At the end of the road, where the smooth stone turned into a dirt path, stood a stone tower, one of many that had been built along these royal roads. This guard tower was the cowherd’s goal, since he knew that it was built by the king just as much as the roads were.

Although he had abandoned his cows out of fear, the long trek back had given him time to think. The town behind the tower was his home, where his family lived. Be they monsters or soldiers, if the cloud of dirt reached this place, they would destroy everything the cowherd knew in life. In his hopelessness, the best he knew to do was to inform those who knew more than him.

While the soldiers who had been tasked to guard this remote place of the kingdom didn’t know what to make of the rambling local, they didn’t ignore him either, since they didn’t have anything better to do. This was an unimportant, sleepy town on the edge of nowhere. They couldn’t expect any serious attacks from the midland mountains, so occasional bandit attacks were the worst they had to handle.

Now that someone was bringing real news to them, they were happy to break up the monotony. Not to mention, the actual contents of the rambling sounded concerning, once they had deciphered them.

The beacon tower guards had only just arrived from Saniya, where rumors of foreign armies gearing up for attack had been circulating for a while now. While one of the two guard soldiers walked eastward to get a close-up look at the ‘cloud of ghosts’ and confirm their worst guesses, the other sent a semaphore signal down the line. Quickly, the same symbol was repeated on top of the tower west of theirs, and then it traveled from tower to tower, until it reached Rapra Castle in Saniya less than an hour later.

However, no one was there to meet the message when it arrived. Although it was being picked up and recorded by an official in the castle, those with authority were currently away. Corco was still out west, solving the civil unrest in his wife’s kingdom.

Meanwhile, Fadelio had also left the castle for the city, having to deal with his own brand of internal problems. Thus, the official on the radio ordered a team of ghosts to go out and deliver the message as quickly as possible. To their luck, at least they knew where to find Official Fadelio.

At this time, Mayu stood in his Saniya mansion’s grand garden, elevated on a chair. Below, many lords of the Kingdom of Southern Medala surrounded him. All others stood as well, and raised their cups towards the young governor.

“My fellows; like-minded compatriots,” he bellowed out into the fresh morning air. “Let us drink, on a happy cooperation!”

All the lords returned the greeting and drank together. Seeing their enthusiasm, Mayu became even happier than before. It had been a long time since the lords had done what he wanted. Or rather, maybe this was the first time they did. After all, Mayu had become governor at the same time Corco had become king, stripping all privilege from him before he could exert it. In truth, he had never really had the power that should have been his birthright. His first real taste of it made him excited.

“All of us know why we have come here, for we are men with a common purpose,” Mayu continued. “Divided we are weak, but united we will get what we deserve, what we are owed!“

“And what would that be?” A discordant voice came from the garden’s entrance to spoil the mood. H
is complacent smile wiped away by a frown, Mayu turned around to see his cousin’s watchdog Fadelio invade his private mansion, flanked by a dozen guards. The governor assumed that his own men had been restrained outside. After all, it wasn’t quite yet time to fight the authority of the king, so his men couldn’t use force to keep out the king’s hounds. But that didn’t mean he would bow down to a base warrior.

“Oh, Official Fadelio. What leads you here?” he asked, ignoring the dog’s previous question. By now, his frown was gone, and his calm had returned. There was an audience after all, and a need to look fit to rule.

“A banquet of the southern lords, in Saniya. Shouldn’t the king have been invited to something like this? I wonder, what is it that you’re plotting here?” Fadelio looked around to intimidate the lords, but most of them had been prepared well by Mayu. Only a few cowards averted their eyes, while most met the dog’s silent challenge.

“Plotting? Whatever could Official Fadelio mean?” Now that he had seen the response of the lords, Mayu’s smile was back, just like his confidence.

“Then what did you say before, governor? ‘You will get what you are owed’? What are you owed?”

“Just words of bravado. Did this governor say anything untoward, warrior?”

He emphasized his last word, but it still couldn’t be construed as an insult. After all, a mere warrior was what the dog was. In the end, there was nothing concrete the dog could accuse him of. Outside of secret meetings, Mayu had always kept all the rhetoric he used with the lords as vague as possible.

For now, he still had to be careful, though even that would be over soon. As could be seen by their high officials, the Rapra Castle was toothless. Even the dog had nothing to say in response.

“Since this governor has not done any wrong, then this governor cannot be expected to admit to any crimes. Or should this governor invent some, so warrior may find an excuse to imprison half the lords of the south on treason charges?”

Again, Fadelio looked around, but this time, he looked a lot less intimidating, despite his massive size. Just like it’s highest official, the power of Saniya looked imposing, but would crumble at the slightest push back. Still, Mayu didn’t expect the old order to give in without a fight.

“Then if you are not doing anything illegal, why not invite your king to your secret little meeting?” the dog repeated his earlier question.

“King Corcopaca is not in Saniya – as so often – and everyone knows it. However, that does not mean that the banquets of the lords can halt until he deigns to return. With both the king and his queen gone for so long, who should we send the invitation to? A warrior in the palace? How inappropriate.”

The warrior in the palace was stewing in anger, but Mayu was secure in his position. He knew that the dog wouldn’t dare start a war against so many lords at once, not without his owner’s word, and that owner was far away.

After a while, Fadelio wanted to bite back again, but he was interrupted by another figure who intruded from the outside. With a frown, the master of the house watched the unknown warrior march right next to Fadelio, whisper in his ear and hand him a piece of paper. After he had read it with a stony face, he thought for a moment, before he looked up at Mayu again.

“Today, you get off the hook, since I’m too busy to deal with your megalomania. But I have to give you a fair warning, ‘governor who hasn’t governed a thing in his life’: Whatever you think you’re doing in your fake castle here, drunk on your imagined greatness, you better make sure it sticks. Otherwise, none of this will end well for you, even if you’re the king’s cousin.”

“What are you implying, warrior?” Mayu asked with narrowed eyes, but the warrior had already turned to leave.

“Tread lightly, or you will really get what you deserve,” he said, before he disappeared.

Once again, anger stirred in Mayu’s heart. He had prepared for a grand confrontation with the king’s dog, defeating the brute with words and proving himself in front of the other lords. In the end, the dog had appeared, insulted and threatened him, and then simply left.

However, Mayu soon calmed down again, as a confident smile spread on his face once more. This was nothing. He had endured slights to his status for years now. A few more days would make no difference. Soon, it would be time to revert back to what was right, and show the warrior dog and his many minions in the castle why the lords had ruled these lands since the dawn of time.

Chapter 346 - Fires Everywhere

By the time Corco and his fleet finally returned to Saniya, every corner of his kingdom was on fire. At least with the radio, he was already informed of the most important details. Though in this case, he would rather not have known at all and enjoyed a short moment of peace after he had just resolved the crisis in the Verdant Isles. Through the radio reports, he realized that the times of peace wouldn’t return for a long time.

In the east of his kingdom, foreign soldiers had appeared from within the midland hills. At first, the reports had been vague, but by now it was clear that they were Arcavian soldiers. They had most likely come from Port Ulta, because where else could they have come from? Their numbers didn’t seem large, only around a thousand. Still they were also not blindly charging towards Saniya, which would have been easy to handle.

Instead, they had set up camp somewhere in the midland hills. From there, they had begun to raid the villages and small towns around the edges of the eastern estates. While this was more of an annoyance than a real threat, reports from elsewhere put the actions of the Arcavians in a much grimmer perspective.

Around the Narrows, his uncle Pacha had once again closed off the border between the central and southern kingdom. Officially, he had done so because of a ‘plague’ that was spreading on his side of the border. To avoid the spread of the deadly disease, no one was allowed to cross for the moment.

However, Corco’s spies in the central kingdom told him that they hadn’t heard of any plague going on right now. Some of them had disguised themselves as merchants and tried to cross the Narrows from the north, where they had been told that the plague had appeared in the south instead. It was an obvious excuse, told so Pacha could close off the border without looking like the villain he was.

For now, the end goal of Pacha’s action wasn’t quite clear, but Corco wouldn’t be surprised if his uncle was amassing another army behind closed doors. Maybe he wanted to make another attempt at something he had failed at three years ago: The invasion of the southern kingdom through the Narrows.

This assumption was given more credibility by the happenings across the Narrow Sea. Along the southern coast of Central Medala, right across from the southern kingdom, Corco’s people had reported massive troop movements. These were soldiers of the central kingdom, but they were most likely beholden to House Ichilia, and not to their king Pacha.

At the same time, the fleet of Huaylas was also entering the Narrow Sea again, which solidified the suspicion that this was a third force aiming at him. Everything looked like the Ichilias were preparing for an invasion across the sea.

So far, Divitius Ichilia had stayed out of open conflict. Instead, he had focused on hidden intrigue, always his family’s specialty. If even Ichilia thought that it was time for a frontal attack, he would be sure of his victory. A single look at the map showed Corco why his belief may be justified.

In the west of Saniya, the war against the Colored Kings was still raging on. Arcavian soldiers in the east were threatening the borders. Along the land-route to the north, Pacha was planning who knew what behind closed borders, while another army was preparing to use the water route in the north for their own invasion. The Kingdom of the South was surrounded. It was like all his enemies had conspired together, and everyone was piling on at once, jumping on some perceived weakness.

As soon as the fleet reached Medala, Corco and his entourage jumped off the ship and rushed towards the castle. This time, even Sumaci had come back with him, which Corco was endlessly thankful for. In this crisis, she could provide some invaluable support. Not only was she quite bright and very good with political strategy, she was also the Queen of the Green Island after all, and fully in charge of her people since very recently.

Encouraged by his wife’s support, Corco wanted to meet with his staff and plan for counter measures straight away. If his enemies thought his army was still as weak as it had been three years ago, or that most of his soldiers were stuck in the Verdant Isles, they would have a rude awakening soon.

However, he didn’t even make it all the way to his study before more problems piled up. This time, they took the form of his cousin Mayu, just about the last person he wanted to see at the moment. The glorious governor with the glamorous red cape was waiting around in the castle’s entry hall, surrounded by a handful of his servants.

As soon as Mayu saw Corco’s group arrive, it became clear that the ones the governor had been waiting for was them. With his usual, unfounded confidence, the governor and his servants strutted towards the king’s group.

“King Corcopaca! How nice of you to return before all men in the kingdom are dead.”

Without any concern for etiquette, Mayu began the accusations early. Not only had he taken initiative towards his king, which was a breech of form already, he had also openly insulted him with his first sentence, without a greeting.

If his aggressive speech hadn’t been enough, marching straight at Corco without stating his cause made the king’s guards alert. They stepped ahead to create a barrier between the two before Mayu could reach his king. Though of course, Corco himself wasn’t all that bothered by his idiot cousin’s aggressive posturing. His confidence was usually nothing more than bravado.

“The fuck is your problem this time?” he asked across the shoulders of his guards, his own words no more civilized than Mayu’s. “How did I insult your ‘honor’ today?”

“King Corcopaca, you may not be aware, but the kingdom is in dire straights, while you spent a grand time traveling foreign countries with your new wife.”

His aggressive eyes went straight past Corco, and onto a frowning Sumaci. She simply ignored the guy she could had downed with a single kick before, and looked over at Corco instead.

“Husband, should I deal with this noble governor?”

The sarcasm was dripping in her voice, which made Corco grin. He didn’t have to look over to know how much Mayu would be seething.

“No, I got it. I don’t think I’ll need help here.”

“In that case, I’ll go on ahead and catch up with the castle’s staff, while you entertain our guest. Please don’t be too long. You know I don’t want you to waste too much time on nonsense.”

Without sparing a word or another look for Mayu, Sumaci kissed Corco on the cheek and left the group. She walked straight past Mayu and deeper into the castle. Meanwhile, the governor’s fiery eyes followed her all the way. History had a habit of repeating itself, so Corco thought that Mayu was just here on some made-up complaint, all so he could vent his jealousy again. Since there was no point to it, Corco decided to get his cousin out of the castle quickly.

“Right, are you gonna keep staring or did you have something you had to tell me? If it’s nothing important, I’d much rather deal with my work. I’ve got important things to do.”

Considering the state of the kingdom, that was an understatement. However, it seemed like Mayu wouldn’t let go that easily. Unlike before when he had tried and failed to provoke Corco, this time he remained strangely calm.

“How easy for the king to be dismissive of his own lords,” Mayu said. “His kingdom is falling apart at the seams, and the lords are left to fend for themselves. Meanwhile, the king is busy playing around with his queen.”

“What, I’m not allowed to get along with my wife now? Is that it? And what the fuck does ‘dismissive of the lords’ mean? Are you telling me you’re here to speak on behalf of the lords?”

Corco’s joke was supposed to shut up Mayu so the king could get to the important work. Yet the governor’s next words were a shock to Corco.

“That is correct.”

“All of them?”

“Enough of them.”

During their exchange, Mayu looked more and more confident as Corco’s confusion grew. Although he didn’t want to admit it, it seemed like his cousin had really come up with something troublesome for once. This time, he could no longer be ignored.

“In that case, I’ll have to invite you in,” the king said in the end. “Let’s find a quiet room to talk things out in detail.”

Although he wanted to smack Mayu’s smug face, he couldn’t just ignore the lords in his kingdom. At least for now, they still represented a serious power that could interfere with his plans. Right now, the kingdom was already getting messed up by enemies on all sides. The last thing Corco needed was a civil war breaking out just because some lords felt slighted. And he knew just how easy it was to slight Mayu.

Since he had to take his guest serious now, he arranged for a luxurious, isolated salon inside the castle to be used for their private conversation. Once all the servants and all the guards had left the room in a show of the host’s goodwill, only Corco and Mayu were left inside.

While the young governor had a strong mulled wine and some refreshments in front of him to combat the winter cold, Corco had to be content with a stack of papers. While they had been waiting for the servants to set up the room, Fadelio had come by to hand the king the reports on what was going on with his kingdom right now.

After all, the radio was nice for emergency messages, but transmitting detailed reports wasn’t one of its strengths, at least not until they figured out sound transmission. While Corco was still sifting through the top paper of the stack – the one marked ‘important’ by Fadelio – Mayu put down his mulled wine.

The castle usually served cocktails and other alcoholic drinks during negotiations. Not only did it show the sophistication of the castle, and how serious it took the guest, it also kept those guests drunk and stupid, much easier to talk to. This time however, it seemed like Mayu wouldn’t wait long enough to get drunk first.

“Now, King Corcopaca. Can we talk about the important issues of this kingdom?” the governor began in an impatient voice.

“Well, I’m trying to get informed here.” Corco looked up for a second and slapped the report in front of him. Then he returned right back to his reading material. “Are you asking me to do my job without knowing exactly what’s happening first?”

“With all due respect, the king should know what is happening in his kingdom. Out east, the lords are being attacked by unknown marauders. They are not mere bandits. They are organized, and they are many.”

“About one thousand,” Corco mumbled back and then looked up from the papers again. “What do you think I’m reading here? This report gives me the details, not some general overview. You think I have no idea what’s going on? Just because I wasn’t here doesn’t mean I’m not informed.”

“That is hard to believe from someone who has hardly been in his kingdom all year.”

“Right.” Corco had been getting annoyed by Mayu’s confident attitude for a while, so he decided to confront him head-on and break through the nonsense. “In the east, there are around one thousand Arcavian soldiers who came over here from Port Ulta. That’s not all though. The central kingdom has closed down the land borders again, and is also preparing a landing across the Narrow Sea as well. Did you know all that?”

Corco’s frank admission finally shut the governor up. At last for now, he no longer looked like he had complete control.

“Of course you didn’t, because it’s not your job to know all that,” Corco continued before a stunned Mayu could find his words again. “It’s mine though. That’s why I already know what’s going on in my kingdom. I just need all the details – and all the most recent information from the last two days –  because things are moving so fast. Now if you let me finish reading, I can do something about it. All I ask from you is to shut up for two minutes, until I have a complete picture. Can you manage that, Governor Mayu Sonco Saqartu?”

“That is not enough,” Mayu insisted, finally back to the world of the talking. “The lords need the support of the kingdom. It is not their responsibility to protect the borders. That is the responsibility of the king. In return for the loyalty of the lords, you have pledged to protect them from outside forces. Yet their estates are being raided this very moment. Some estate capitals are dangerously close to the midland hills, and we have no idea if the foreigners will send more reinforcements through the wilderness to become a real threat to those cities as well. If you do not wish to lose the support of the southern lords, you need to act now.“

For a second, Corco stared at Mayu in shock. His cousin had opposed him more than once, but this time was entirely different. This time, he felt more confident than before, and more sure of himself. This time, he didn’t play little games, and didn’t try to provoke Corco. Instead, Mayu used the rules of the kingdom to threaten him with direct action, which was a lot more dangerous.

Earlier, Corco had tried to find out how many lords supported Mayu’s actions, but his cousin had remained vague. However, considering the way he talked, it seemed like their numbers weren’t small. Whatever Mayu was planning, it was big enough to be concerning, even with all the war going on. As a result, Corco finally put down the report and looked back up at Mayu with a frown.

“I get that we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but do you really want to make things impossible between us? I owe a great debt to Uncle Sonco, your father But that doesn’t mean you’re immune from consequences. You understand, if you keep going like this, there will be no way back.”

“The lords feel left alone. I am merely the messenger,” Mayu insisted, unfazed by the threat.

“Is that right?” Again, Corco stared at his cousin, but he was disappointed to see that Mayu remained stubborn. In the end, he had to engage the governor as his king, not as family.

“Fine. Let’s analyze,” Corco said. “I’ve already taken care of the Verdant Isles. The war is still going, but it’ll be stable for a while at least, and we won’t have to invest any extra manpower there. In the north, the attempts at invasion aren’t all too threatening. They didn’t get past Qarasi last time, and it wasn’t even fully built back then. Plus, from the reports it looks like the Ichilia army is nowhere near ready for a crossing yet. So a crossing is unlikely for now, not to mention incredibly dangerous. Which only leaves the east as an immediate issue. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take a fresh army and march east, to support the lords in the midland hills and drive back the Arcavians. Does that make you happy?”

“It is merely what a king should do.” Mayu still didn’t show any emotions, neither joy over his ‘victory’, nor annoyance over Corco’s calm retort.

“You can leave now,” the king said in the end. However, he didn’t want to let his cousin leave like this. He still had to appeal to Mayu’s good senses, at least one more time. “After you go back, talk to your mother, and to grandfather if you can. Please consider if you want to keep going down this route. Some things, once they have been done, can’t be undone, no matter how much we want to.”

“How very true,” Mayu said as he stood up. “This governor will excuse himself. May King find success in his expedition.”

Still with an unusual calm, the once haughty governor stood up, bowed and left the room.

Once again, Corco understood that this time was different from all the threats he had faced before. He felt like an invisible hand was stretching out for everything he had built so far. His chest tightened as he felt the walls close in around him. Embroiled in fears and worries, Corco spent his time with reports, and then in debates with his staff, deep into the night.

Chapter 347 - Unexpected Enemies

Smoke rose from the cup, and into Corco’s nose. He had always liked the aroma of coffee far more than the taste. Today, he needed both. As he sipped his liquid breakfast, he watched his troops get into formation on the plaza in front of Rapra Castle.

Just like he had promised, Corco left Saniya the morning after his meeting with Mayu. To design a proper plan of operations, he had spent the previous night with his staff. However, all their discussions hadn’t changed much about his initial assessment.

As the most immediate problem, they had to confront the Arcavians in the east first. That had been the case before, but even more now that the lords had sent Mayu to put pressure on him. Luckily, they had already expected that they would need to move out eventually, so Fadelio had readied several squads of Saniya’s army to move out before Corco’s ship had even arrived.

Although he had sacrificed sleep to finish up the preparations, he also needed to send out the troops himself, just like he had promised. For one, he needed to show some leadership to counteract whatever Mayu had been plotting.

In Medala, showing military strength was often enough to get the lords back on your side. Since Corco didn’t expect a hard fight against the outnumbered and under-supplied Arcavians, it was a good chance to put his foot down and remind the lords that he wasn’t playing around.

On the other hand, the decision to lead the troops himself was also down to a lack of military staff qualified to do the job for him. Dedrick had already left Medala around a month ago, and he had taken some of Corco’s best officers with him. Normally, there would have been enough generals left to replace him, but they were all needed elsewhere.

Paec was still left in Rasacopa to defend the palace from any sneaky tricks the captains or other Colored Kings may try during Corco’s and Sumaci’s absence. There were other generals of course, but they also needed to defend Qarasi Castle in the Narrows, as well as the entire north coast of Sachay in case House Ichilia launched their sea invasion early.

Among all the jobs that required military commanders, dealing with the Arcavians in the east seemed like the easiest and most straightforward. After all, the invaders only had a thousand soldiers with them. Even if Corco accounted for incomplete information, they couldn’t expect any more than two thousand.

While Mayu had implied that more reinforcements could be coming to strengthen the Arcavians, Corco knew better. He had put spies into Port Ulta long ago. Several days ago – when the army that was now raiding the east of his kingdom had left Port Ulta – his people had already sent the information to Saniya.

Back then, they had thought that the army was moving either south to attack Rufalasta, or north towards the Anticasa Mountain Pass. Both places had been warned in advance to stay on alert, but both had become very well defended over the past few years.

Unlike the midland hills, which were very tough to cross – especially during winter – those two places were considered the front line against arcavian invaders. As a result, both had strengthened a lot over the years, certainly enough so they wouldn’t have to worry about a thousand soldiers attacking them. While the goal of the arcavian attack had come as a surprise, they knew pretty much exactly about their numbers, and about their poor supplies.

Even if they wanted to bring reinforcements, their ultimate numbers would be pretty limited. The midlands of Sachay were not exactly bountiful, even less so in winter. Fighting a tired and outnumbered enemy army during winter and on home terrain seemed like a fight almost impossible to lose, which made it the perfect target for Corco’s strongman propaganda.

Of course, with Mayu’s challenge to Rapra Castle’s authority, his presence was also important in Saniya to ensure stability. Luckily, Sumaci had come back with him this time. As queen and member of the ruling class, she could represent him much better in front of the lords than Fadelio. While Corco drove back the Arcavians, she would keep the lords in check and make sure they wouldn’t do anything stupid.

By the time the king had drunk his coffee, the army had assembled. All in all, he would bring six thousand men with him, more than enough to deal with whatever would come his way. Even if Mayu were to try something inexcusable and assemble an army of lords to intercept him halfway, it wouldn’t change anything. With these numbers, he was confident that he could at least defend and retreat safely, even against a massive army composed of most lords in the south.

Without any fear, he led his troops through the streets of Saniya, in open view of all the citizens, and then out of the city. If everything went right, he would soon return in the same way, with his head held high and celebrating a great victory under the adoration of the crowd.

Even out in the countryside, the new highways were smooth and wide. They were designed exactly for this kind of operation, so the troops moved fast. Of course, it helped that the men were fresh.

Despite the recent snow fall, the highways had been kept clean by government employed crews. Now, all the money he had invested in infrastructure was paying dividends. With fresh legs and light baggage, it took the army less than a day to reach the edge of the Chawir Marshes. Up to this point, their entire travels had been as smooth as the roads, but of course that had to come to an eventual end. By the time they were ready to cross the border and enter the Utusku territory, Corco’s forward scouts returned with new reports.

As he watched the runners close in, the king lamented their inefficiency. For now, he had to use cultivators in these scouting roles. Using precious and rare cultivators for these positions seemed like a waste, but he didn’t have a choice. No one else had the speed and endurance to keep ahead of his incredibly fast and efficient armies.

However, he expected that to change soon. Once they bought or bred enough camels, they could finally replace the scouts and create the first proper cavalry unit in this part of the world. For now however, the scouts were still doing their jobs well enough.

“King, there are activities up ahead at the embankment,” the scout reported. “It looks like an army is working on it.”

As soon as he heard the news, Corco ordered double speed on their march. They had already been fast before, but now they were flying. Of course, he had good reason for his haste.

There was more to building roads than simply putting down the asphalt. Most of the work lay in finding a proper route and then flattening it for the road that was about to be put there. Seasonal changes had to be considered as well. Some areas would flood during rainy seasons, so they had to avoid those, or do some extra work where that wasn’t possible.

This was especially complicated in Yakuallpa, a land where water was everywhere. For example, the area between the Chawir Marshes and Utusku was marked by a meandering tributary of the Mayura River. Rather than take a long detour or cross the river several times to get to Utusku’s capital, they had decided to stay north of it during road construction.

However, for that, they had been forced to straighten the river and guide it slightly south. They also built embankments along its side to make sure its new form wouldn’t change back again and wash away their new highway.

The embankment had finished only a year or so earlier, and no further work was planned on it. Whoever was working on it wasn’t doing so on Corco’s orders, and had probably sinister intentions.

As expected, when the river came into sight, the issues were immediately obvious from a distance. The people standing on the embankment were carrying weapons, so they certainly weren’t normal workers, and they weren’t repairing the earth either. They were trying to destroy it.

With pickaxes and shovels, they hacked away at the ground to soften it and break the embankment that held back the water. If the river was released now, it would swallow the road and put a stop to his army’s advance. Attacking the embankment was a strategic move by an enemy army.

Although his men were exhausted from a long march, Corco didn’t have a choice. Without hesitation, he ordered a charge before the enemies became aware of their presence and organized a defense or a retreat. Despite their tired legs, a thousand men in the front of Corco’s army put down their backpacks and set up for a frontal attack.

Luckily, their enemies were even less prepared for a fight than his own men. They didn’t notice a thing until Corco’s soldiers had crossed half the distance and began to run for the final stretch. By that time, it was far too late for the enemies to pick up weapons and get into formation. Chaos broke out within their ranks long before the two armies collided.

Some dropped their tools where they stood, while others carried them along with them. Some picked up the weapons and supplies they had left lying around atop the embankment, some left them were they were. The only thing they all had in common was that they were trying to run, though there was no unity over their course.

Like a swarm of excited pigeons, they shot off in every direction. A small number of them took the shortest route of escape, straight towards the river. Some were dumb enough to swim across. Even if they were trained warriors, Corco knew that they wouldn’t get far. Not in winter, not with those water temperatures.

A few smarter ones ran to the boats on the shore instead, which was probably how they had made it across the river in the first place. However, with their panic and lack of coordination, most wouldn’t get away before they were caught by the onrushing Saniya army.

Some other soldiers were clever enough to flee north, across the road and further into the wilderness. While they would be surrounded by snow any ice up there, at least they wouldn’t freeze to death straight away, unlike those who had picked the river. What’s more, in the wilderness, they would be almost impossible to track down once they were scattered.

As a result, Corco decided that he wouldn’t pursue them. It would take too much time and energy anyways. Instead, he set his sights on the largest group. Most of the fleeing soldiers had rushed upstream along the road. They were the only ones who weren’t blindly rushing into some horrible circumstances. So if any of these groups could still regroup and circle back to pose any danger to them, it would be this one.

Thus, he ordered another squad to pursue along the road and scout out the area ahead. This way, they were safe from eventualities and would hopefully catch a good number more prisoners as well. While they would never be able to catch all, or even a fraction, of the fleeing enemies, any increase in captives would help Corco find out more about their enemies and their plans.

While the pursuit was still going on, the rest of the army set up camp at the embankment. Not only was it time to rest for the day, they also needed to prevent any more attempts at diverting the river. As he waited for his scattered soldiers to return, Corco inspected the leftovers of the enemy operation.

By now it had become blatantly obvious that they had been trying to break the embankment, possibly to slow the advance of Corco’s army. However, there was an even scarier possibility: They may have planned to only damage the dam, disguise their work, and then take out the rest by the time Saniya’s army came past here. Maybe the ideal result for them would have been a drowned and frozen army, with Corco among the corpses.

This was a well-prepared attack. Whoever had planned it was well-versed in the geography of the region. They had picked this place because the embankment sat at the halfway point between two of Corco’s beacon towers, and couldn’t be seen from either. They had even avoided the roads and approached from the water to make sure they wouldn’t be discovered early.

At the same time, knowing how breaking the embankment would change the course of the river meant that they knew about the position of its old river bed. Worst of all, they seemed to know exactly when to expect Corco’s army, as if someone had sent news as soon he had left Saniya this morning. A fast runner would have been able to stay ahead of Corco’s army and relay the message just in time for the enemy to start work here before they arrived.

The only reason they didn’t get caught in a trap was that their enemies had severely underestimated their movement speed across the new roads. Whoever had launched the attack, it was someone with intimate knowledge of Sachay, and possibly someone with connections in Saniya.

As his soldiers brought back the first prisoners, Corco’s worst suspicions were confirmed. Although they didn’t wear any house colors or show any sigils on their clothes, they didn’t have the light skin color of Arcavians. Instead, they had the bronze skin and dark hair of the Yaku. Before he had asked his prisoners a single question, the most important one had already been answered: Corco had been attacked by his own people.

Hermit's Notes: So that's all the chapters I owed, I think... but after all of that, I still have two chapters left over somehow. I'll post them on the highest two tiers for now, and then do a recount to make sure I didn't owe those as well. They'll be unlocked tomorrow anyways, as the regular weekly release.

Chapter 348 - Interview With the Devil

Corco had been attacked by his own people. That much became clear with one look at his prisoners. Since the details of his enemies still eluded him for now, he ordered his men set up proper restraints for the caught warriors that would allow the king to interrogate them. They needed to find out the details of Saniya‘s newest, shadowy enemy as soon as possible.

Based on these considerations, Corco had his people set up three tents. The first tent would house all the captives for now. A wooden cage inside would keep all of them honest. Against the power of warriors, the cheap, improvised pen wouldn‘t hold for long, but it didn’t have to. The warriors were disarmed, and there were always guards inside the tent and around the pen to keep an eye on any potential attempts at escape.

The second tent was right next to the first, and was where the prisoners would be questioned. This one was almost empty, with only a few cheap chairs his guards had brought along for Corco to sit on whenever the army was resting. A king couldn’t just sit on the floor after all, or so his people told him..

Finally, a third tent was set up next to the second and contained another cage like the first, though for now, it was kept empty.

Once everything was set up, Corco entered the second tent, and then asked his soldiers to bring him the first prisoner. This time, without Sumaci and her experts around, he lead do the interrogation himself. In all honesty, he was looking forward to it, just a little bit.

__________________________

At first, Suyana had thought that their mission would be an easy one. Just cross the river and break down an earthen wall. They didn‘t expect to find any warriors on the other side to oppose them, and the wall wouldn‘t hit back either. In high spirits, they went to fulfill their master’s orders, all of them eager to finish their work and then get back home and out of the cold.

However, everything went wrong shortly after they had begun taking apart the embankment. Their foes had come from nowhere and without warning. Before they knew it, they had been scattered, and then caught one by one.

I should have run north instead, Suyana thought as he looked around the overcrowded prison cell. Surely, many of his fellow prisoners thought the same. Surely, they also all cursed the others for taking up so much space.

As he tried to make more room for himself, his back pressed against the rough wooden stakes that kept them stuck together. A little bit of wood wouldn’t hold a warrior like him for long, but the guards outside were armed with lances and hand cannons.

No matter how weak these people were – and the soldiers of Saniya were famed for their physical weakness – their weapons would be enough to take out the few dozen unarmed warriors before they made their way through their wooden prison.

While Suyana continued to stare at the crowd before him – because where else would he look with nothing but warriors around him – he wondered what would happen to them. Since escape was out of the question for now, he expected the usual behavior from this King Corcopaca. He was said to be evil and not much of a noble, but surely he would still abide by the most basic rules of polite society.

If that were true, their accommodations would get better as soon as it was possible. In that sense, he could excuse the poor conditions they were under right now. In the wilderness, one had to allow for imperfect manners sometimes. After a few days in a proper prison, they would eventually be returned back to their master for a ransom. There wasn’t much wrong with a few days of boredom, so Suyana was willing to show leniency for their captors, at least for now.

While he was thinking about various things, he barely realized when someone opened the gate to their prison. He didn’t even move when all his fellow prisoners stepped back, away from the visitors. All he thought was finally some space. As a result, he stood all alone at the front of their cell when the guard soldiers entered.

“You!” the rude guard barked at him, “Come with us.”

Suyana noticed only then that all other warriors around him had disappeared. Now he had all the room he wanted, but he suddenly hoped they hadn’t been so considerate. He didn’t know where he would be sent, but it couldn’t be very good. He wanted to argue, but wouldn’t that put his fellow warriors in danger as well? A good warrior would always consider the well-being of his equals, so he didn’t quibble.

“Very well,” he said with a raised head that showed his size compared to the puny commoner guard, before he followed him outside. At least he was allowed to leave the cramped prison for now. Maybe, he fantasized, they had finally finished building the first of many more appropriate cells for them, and he would be the first one to receive proper accommodations, simply by virtue of his bravery.

However, the guards didn’t lead him into any better room, and they didn’t lead him far either. Instead, he ended up in another tent right next door, though at least it was more spacious. Inside, there was nothing but two chairs and ten or so guards spread around the tent’s perimeter. One of the chairs was empty, while a somewhat short warrior with a friendly smile stood next to the other. The entire scene was surreal, and gave Suyana an eerie feeling.

“Ah, are you the first one then?” the warrior asked Sunyana. Before anyone could reply, the man motioned towards one of the empty chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

Since he was still surrounded by guards and inside the enemy camp, Suyana decided that it would be best to follow the strange man’s orders for now, at least until he felt threatened or saw a chance to escape. Once he had sat down, the strange man spoke up again.

“You want anything to drink? Mulled wine? Tea?”

The more Suyana was in this tent, the more suspicious he became. This strange man was asking strange questions, and the room was weird as well. What was the purpose of this place? It certainly didn’t look like a torture chamber set up to get answers from him. That much, he would have expected.

Their enemies still didn’t know about their allegiance, and for now, it was important that they remained in the dark for a while longer. Of course, their enemies would be eager to learn about their master’s identity, or about the nature of their mission. When he was stuffed into the prison, Suyana had been ready to withstand any torture they could think of, to protect his master’s plan to the last moment.

However, there were no torture instruments inside the room, and the man who was asking questions wasn’t asking anything of substance, nor did he look like someone who would torture others. Rather, he looked more like a merchant trying to sell him defective goods. Nothing was fitting together. Though he was a true warrior, so he still managed to retain his calm.

“What is this? Who are you?” he asked the suspicious questioner.

“It’s an interrogation of course.” The man bowed lightly, with a playful smile on his face. “And I’m your king. Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, at your service.”

When he heard the name, Suyana rose on reflex. This was the man they had tried to kill in their operation at the embankment. He was also the one who was fighting Suyana’s master, the one who had taken Kapra’s prosperity and ruined his family’s fortune.

Year on year, his family’s life had become harder as a result of the king’s actions. In that time, his hatred towards the distant king had been fostered, and now the culprit was right in front of him, to punish as he deserved. However, as soon as Suyana stood from his seat, the evil king stepped back and revealed a small hand cannon from inside his robes.

“Ah, for your own safety, please keep your arms and legs inside the cart at all times.”

His words were as mysterious as before, but the threat from the hand cannon was unmistakable. Once he was confronted with his own mortality, Suyana’s hot blood cooled again. All around the room, the guards had closed in as well, ready to strike him down as soon as he made another step. At the same time, the king in front of him still held that calm smile, as if he was in control of everything. No matter how much he hated this evil king, he felt like he had no chance where he to act now. So Suyana sat back down and waited for his chance.

“Good,” the king said as he finally sat down on the chair opposite the warrior. “Now then, I’ve already introduced myself. Don’t you think it’s rude that you still haven’t done the same?”

The more he saw of the evil king’s smile, the more he realized how fake his politeness was.

“I will not say a word,” he growled back.

“You already have though.” The king laughed at his own joke, though Suyana didn’t care.

“No matter how you torture me, it will be useless.”

“That’s good.” The evil king shrugged. “I don’t believe in torture anyways. It’s not very useful in most cases. And there’s also humanitarian concerns, I guess. But don’t worry, we can still have a good talk. I have my own methods, no torture needed.”

This time, Suyana was completely silent, ready to sit out the king’s questioning. The king’s arrogance would make things much easier for him. What could that king do without torturing him? When he realized that Suyana wouldn’t respond anymore, the evil king continued.

“Okay, if you wanna act like a kid, that’s fine.” The evil king’s smile widened. “Since you’re not useful, I’ll just have to get someone else from the prison next door. Though I’ll have to warn you that I’ll have to give the others an incentive for talking. Otherwise, they’d all be as stubborn as you, right? And then Tama will make fun of me, and will torture you anyways. So to spare you and your colleagues, I’ll just quickly take you back over to the others and shoot you in the head.”

“Wait!” Confused and shocked at the sudden turn, Suyana broke his silence. The king stopped, already half out of his chair.

“What?” he asked in an impatient tone. “I said I don’t believe in torture. This method is way faster and way more humane, right? Only one guy dies, rather than all of them, and there will be no pain at all.”

“I am a warrior!” Suyana protested. “You cannot do that!”

This wasn’t the way a proper warrior was to be treated in Medala. There were rules of conduct! Could this king really ignore all the rules of the ancients and mistreat him so? Wouldn’t all the other warriors in the kingdom stand up against him? However, the king’s answer shocked him.

“Oh, you’re a warrior? That’s a pretty big claim from someone without a name. You know what the penalty is for those who impersonate warriors in my kingdom? I’m actually not sure myself, but I’m the king, so I’m sure I can decide these things. Let’s just say you get capital punishment, so we’re done with it.”

“No, wait! If I die, no one will pay my ransom!” This time, Suyana tired to lure the king with wealth. He had heard that the king had been a base merchant before, and that he was obsessed with money. Yet again, he had thought things too simply.

“And who would I demand the ransom from if you’re not even telling me who your master is?” The king shrugged. “Not to mention, I’m the guy who’s filthy rich, right? The one swimming in blood-drenched silver, according to the stories. You really think I care about a little bit of ransom over finding out who’s trying to kill me?”

Again, the king cut off Suyana’s escape path. If he didn’t want to die a pointless death, all he could do was talk. However, he wouldn’t just obediently tell the truth. He would never play along with the evil king’s games. Couldn’t he just lie and then coordinate his story with the others once he returned to them? Maybe, once he screamed out everything he had said in front of the other prisoners, he would still end up dead, but at least his death would not be pointless.

“Very well,” he said after some thought, ready to die for a good cause. “My name is Qollqe di Macuy. Lord Macuy ordered us-”

The fake story was already laid out in his head, but the king interrupted him.

“Wait! Before you introduce yourself, I’ll explain to you how this will work. Otherwise, you might make some choices you may regret, and I don’t want to be unfair.” The king winked. “I will ask you questions, and then you will answer. So far so simple, right? Some of those questions will be very specific, but don’t worry, that’s part of the method. You don’t need to think about why I’m asking, you just need to answer. After we’re done playing twenty questions, you’ll be led to a neighboring tent. Not the one with all the prisoners of course, it’ll be an empty one that we’ve prepared specifically for you. And then, once you’re out of sight and can no longer be heard by anyone else, my guards will bring in the next prisoner, and I’ll ask him the same questions. Should I find out that either of you lied to me, both of you die. And don’t even think about dying a martyr to protect your master. Not everyone thinks like you. I got so many of you guys, there’s always gonna be a coward who will talk. So your death would be completely pointless.”

As he spoke, the friendly smile never left the king’s face. However, now it looked the grin of a demon. Cold sweat had collected on Suyana’s back throughout the speech. Now he understood that his lies would not only be pointless, they would also endanger the life of the man who would come after him. He could make the decision to die for his house for himself, but he couldn’t do it for his fellow warriors. Suyana was caught in a trap, his confidence drained.

“Now then,” the king said after a prolonged pause to steep the warrior in his dread. “Let’s start again. What is your name? And why are you here?”

Finally, Suyana relented, and betrayed his master.

“My name is Suyana D’Ogulno. And my master sent met to kill you.”

Once the dam was broken, the truth spilled out like a flood, while the devil looked on with a smile.

Chapter 349 - The End of His Patience

As he sat and ate some hot soup to warm his body on this icy cold day, Corco looked at the picture outside his tent. Beneath a sky as clear and blue as ancient ice, he could see the goal of his army’s latest trek. The town of Kapra stood tall, hidden behind its high walls, with the copper hill and the castle of House Ogulno in the center. Although he didn’t enjoy what he had to do next, there really wasn’t a choice, not after what he had learned from the prisoners.

After the first prisoner had cracked, the investigation had lasted for most of the day, until Corco had a somewhat complete picture of what the warriors had been doing at the embankment. Once again, his worst fears had been confirmed.

According to his captives, they were all warriors of House Ogulno, all of them sent to destroy the embankment before Corco’s army appeared. They had been instructed to drown his entire army if possible, but they hadn’t expect him to be careless enough to march without proper scouting up ahead.

In case their first plan failed as they had expected, they were supposed to simply break open the embankment early, to slow down Corco’s advance towards the eastern front. Now he knew what their plans had been, though the reason for their actions remained hazy. Why would Ogulno want to slow him down by a few days? However, the warriors had revealed another bit of information that gave the king more clues, and pushed him beyond concern and towards anger.

According to them, Kapra was supplying the Arcavians in the midland hills with food, water and even winter clothing and animals. With a stable and generous supply station right next to their position, it was no wonder they dared to attack into an unknown region during winter. Before, Corco had wondered why his enemies would choose to attack during winter of all things. Now, everything was slowly starting to make sense, though there were still many unanswered questions.

Why go through so much trouble, just so the Arcavians could maraud the poorest border territories of the southern kingdom? Since they wouldn’t really attack Kapra, which was the only rich territory in the east Corco’s lands, they didn’t stand to gain much material benefits from their attacks. They could do something more meaningful from a strategic perspective if they took any of the other estate capitals or traveled further inland, but their numbers were too small for that. So what was their real goal? Most importantly, what did his uncle Ogulno stand to gain from this?

Since Ogulno’s plans for the future were still a mystery, Corco decided to simply come here to Kapra and ask him himself. Thus, he had left a thousand soldiers behind at the embankment, to prevent further tampering. Then, he traveled along his new highways into Utusku, where he left another thousand behind to help Lord Macuy deal with the Arcavian raiders in the east. Finally, with the rest of his army, he crossed the river along a major bridge and marched on Kapra.

Here on Ogulno land, his uncle hadn’t allowed Corco to build his highway, so the roads were horrible and their speed slowed down a lot in the snow. Though at least, the distance wasn’t far and they still brought their snow shoes to pursue the Arcavians in the wilderness. All in all, it still only took them four days to arrive near the city of Kapra. Now they were waiting in a camp outside, while Corco’s envoys announced his arrival to his uncle. Ogulno’s response to the arrival of his king would tell a lot about his attitude.

Just as the king finished his bowl of soup, he saw that response arrive in the distance. From out of the town’s gates came a group of people marching under the flag of House Ogulno. They weren’t nearly enough to try any sort of attack, so they could only be return envoys sent by his uncle. A short while later, Corco sat opposite their spokesperson inside his tent.

“King Corcopaca’s presence on the Ogulno estate is an honor for House Ogulno. This servant wishes to offer his greetings.”

For a while, Corco stared at the bowing man in front of him. He had the lanky stiffness many advisors of the lords shared. The king had seen the man before, but he couldn’t quite remember the context.

“Yeah, glad to be here,” he said. “So who are you?”

“This servant’s name is Qirao, King. As a minor advisor to Lord Ogulno, this servant is here to represent the lord today.”

“Ah, I remember you,” Corco said. “You’re the guy who always makes things difficult for me when my people try to reconcile with your estate.”

Once he said his name, Corco finally recalled his unpleasant past with Advisor Qirao. Over the years, Saniya’s government had tried multiple times to reconcile with House Ogulno. After all, having an enemy in your own country was a ticking time bomb. However, they also couldn’t just let one of their subordinate lords walk all over them, or the other lords would no longer respect their king. As a result, they had asked House Ogulno for minor concessions and some public display of obedience, so both sides could step back with their heads held high and cooperate to everyone’s benefits.

Yet in all that time, Ogulno didn’t visit Saniya even once. Instead, he would always send this Advisor Qirao, who would act like a stubborn child and oppose whatever Corco offered, often with no explanation. Again and again he had offended the king, as if he was his superior, rather than the other way round.

Now that Ogulno was sending out this advisor again to represent him, Corco wasn’t expecting much of these talks.

“Ahaha, this servant merely represented the interests of his house, and had to insist on his house’s benefits.” Advisor Qirao rose without any orders from Corco, and laughed frankly, in complete confidence. The king chose to ignore the grandstanding nonsense. Arguing with this guy about etiquette hadn’t gotten him anywhere in previous years. That wouldn’t change today.

“And what are those interests today?” he asked instead.

“Lord merely wishes to know what leads king to this remote corner of his kingdom? After all, Lord did not send for an invitation, and while he welcomes his nephew’s visit, he cannot help but be concerned about a foreign army entering his lands.”

“Wait, weren’t you the guys who asked for help from the bandits?” Corco asked in faked confusion. Was this guy really accusing him of an invasion? “You sent your Governor Mayu to speak for you and everything, right? Well, we’re here now, to help you out with your bandit problem. So how about you open those gates of yours and let my soldiers in, so we can help defend your land?”

A great struggle broke out on the face of the advisor. Clearly, his master didn’t want him to lower the city’s defenses. As petty and deceitful people, they would of course always expect the worst of others and would never lower their guard like that. Though this time, they were right to worry, of course. Were he to enter the city, Corco fully expected to find some Arcavians inside Kapra’s walls. Maybe his uncle just needed some time to hide them. After a long while of thought, the advisor’s face smoothed, and he replied.

“The issues of the bandit attacks have already been resolved. King need not bother. However, Master is grateful for King’s support, and will send thanks to Saniya in due time.”

“...okay… but that still isn’t a reason to not let me in, right?” Corco insisted. He had been far too nice to his uncle for far too long. This time, he wouldn’t be the bigger man. He wasn’t that tall anyways. “It’s the middle of winter, and I just finished a long journey across the entire country. Do you want your king and his warriors to stay out in the cold and freeze to death? What sort of hospitality is this?”

“Of- Of course not,” the advisor stammered as his eyes flew around the tent. “However, at this moment, Kapra’s streets are dirty. After all, Kapra’s warriors have just been deployed to drive back the bandits and they left behind a horrid mess, not fitting for a king to view. Everything needs to be readied for King’s arrival, or how would such negligence reflect on House Ogulno?”

“I don’t mind. I’m not that picky when it comes to stuff like that. Just open the gate.”

Despite the advisor’s best attempts, Corco still insisted. Qirao’s shaky smile finally disappeared completely and he began to sweat, despite the cold.

“It really is not that simple,” he tried again. “Without any notice of King’s arrival, nothing is ready. The last thing Lord Ogulno wants is to sour the relationship with King by allowing an assassination attempt through his own negligence. Thus, please allow this servant more time to prepare. The king’s safety needs to be guaranteed after all.”

“Which is why I’ve brought four thousand soldiers with me. They can guarantee my safety even if every warrior in Kapra attacks me. With that, my safety should be guaranteed, right? So just open the gate.” Corco smiled as he watched the squirming advisor. His not so subtle hint at Ogulno’s attempt to kill him made the poor man even more nervous. This was getting fun.

“Unfortunately, there is not enough room to accommodate all of these men inside the castle. They are warriors after all, and need to receive the proper treatment they deserve. However, if king enters with only a small group-”

“Yes, I would feel much safer without all my guards.” Corco’s sarcastic voice interrupted Qirao for the first time. “And they’re not really warriors anyways. They don’t really care where they sleep, so long as it’s inside the city. Open the gate."

“However-”

“Open the gate.”

“This servant really cannot-”

“Open the gate.”

“This-”

“Open the gate. Open the gate. Open the fucking gate!” Corco slammed his armrest and stood up. For the first time in the conversation, he got loud. “What, I’m not even allowed to visit a city in my kingdom? Pretty please? If you have nothing to hide, how can this be so hard?”

He stared at the advisor for several seconds, but the man remained stubborn.

“This servant is inconsolable,” Qirao said in the end. Maybe it was unfair to blame him for everything. After all, his master was the one who had instructed him. With a sigh, Corco decided to drop the act.

“Alright. I guess that’s enough. I’ve honestly had it with your bullshit, and with your master’s bullshit as well. So let’s talk truth, for once. Four days ago, I caught your warriors trying to flood my army. And I got them to talk.”

Eyes wide open, the advisor’s head shot back up.

“King, this-”

“You better shut your mouth right now, before you make things even worse for you. Treason. Insubordination. Conspiracy with the enemy. Attempted regicide. Any of these charges are enough to get your master executed, and I have proof for all of them. I came here to demand some answers from my uncle. If he can explain himself properly, and maybe finally bow his stubborn head and make some concessions, we could leave this shit behind us and work together. I mean, we really don’t need to fight each other when we’re surrounded by enemies, right? So I was willing to overlook him this once, so long as he sees the error of his ways. But I see that he doesn’t even have the guts to meet me in person.”

“Unfortunately, Master is occupied-”

“-trying to hide the Arcavians in his closet, I know,” Corco interrupted the advisor’s nonsense. “I’ve tried to cooperate with my uncle in good faith, I honestly did. In the end, he exploited my goodwill every time, smacking me in the face so he can feel like a big man. Then I tried some sanctions, to make him give in and act appropriate to his station, like a lord should towards a king. That only made him more stubborn. Like a little kid who doesn’t get his favorite toy, throwing a tantrum and acting as if he deserved better just because he was born a few years earlier than me. I thought that maybe he would cool down, and with time, he’d realize how much damage he’s doing to his family by randomly opposing his own nephew like this. Or for that matter, how much damage he’s doing to his house by opposing the guy with all the guns and all the gold. I’ve waited for years and it’s not getting better. Even worse, it looks like he’s now actively scheming against me, trying to launch a civil war when we’re already surrounded by enemies. I’m done. This was your master’s last chance, and he’s wasted it, like the waste he is. Tell Lord Ogulno that he is to stand trial for his crimes. Until he comes out and faces the music, there will be no peace. If he’s still not out once my cannons arrive, I’ll level his little copper hill, and wipe out whatever inheritance he has left after a lifetime of squandering. Now fuck off, and pray that your master has some sense, for once in his life.”

Terrified of the king’s rage, the envoy ran back towards the city. Most likely, Qirao would already know his master’s reply. As far as Corco was concerned, there was absolutely no suspense. With a heavy heart, he sat back down and began to plan for his siege on Kapra.

Chapter 350 - Welcoming the Visitors

As he had done in the days since his arrival near Kapra, Corco sat atop his command hill, surrounded by snow. While he watched the city with Ogulno Castle at its center, he thought about his future course, and about the future of his kingdom.

After everything that had happened over the past few days, would the other lords still have a place in it? That was a key question that would be answered soon, he was sure.

Back when he had first planned out the development direction of his kingdom, he had planned to borrow the wealth and influence the other lords possessed to stabilize the country. In the process, the lords would lose their political power, but would become a powerful economic force. While it wasn’t an ideal solution for Corco, who didn’t want to introduce powerful elites early in his country, it was the path of least resistance, and the fastest and least bloody way towards progress. Now however, this path didn’t look like it was an option anymore.

In previous years, the lords under Corco’s command had tried various little tricks to undermine his authority as King of the South. However, he had always ignored them, since their attempts were nothing more than harmless games. So long as they didn’t break some unspoken rules, he was willing to let them play all the wanted. After all, he was very confident in the power he had already secured.

At the current rate, it was only a matter of time until he took complete de facto control of the south. Not to mention that many of the lords didn’t even really understand the subtle ways in which Corco was taking away their power. More often than not, their plans were limited to attempts to lower his reputation in front of his peers, or to appeal to his ancestors to steal some benefits, so they were doomed to fail from the start.

Now however, someone had clearly stepped over the line. Involving foreigners in the internal matters of their kingdom was obviously a no go, as was a direct attempt at his life through the warriors of his subordinate lords.

Just like he had done with every other lord, Corco had ignored his uncle Ogulno’s antics so far, since he hadn’t done harm to anyone outside of his own household. If the people of Kapra were suffering, they could always just travel to Saniya for work as well, which would only speed up Ogulno’s demise.

This time however, Corco realized that the slow boil approach wouldn’t work. He was determined to see things through this time, and to start cleaning up his kingdom’s internal politics. While he had wanted a peaceful transition of power, he wouldn’t trade his personal safety for peace. No, this time, he would crush his uncle’s castle together with his overblown ego, and show the other lords of the southern kingdom that he wasn’t playing around anymore.

Mayu had been making some recent moves in the shadows, which showed his arrogance, as well as his ambition. Maybe if he saw his uncle dangling from a noose, he’d rethink his strategy as well. Now all Corco had to do was wait for his cannons to turn his plans into facts.

How would the lords react once he began to shell one of their own? How would they see him if he used his military power to suppress internal opposition? These were questions he aimed to answer once his cannons arrived. However, before his reinforcements from the north could show up, his questions were answered by a new arrival on the eastern horizon.

With his telescope, Corco soon managed to make out the exact nature of the new arrivals. Their nature didn’t bode well, and confirmed all of his worst fears. This wasn’t some small group of envoys, like what Ogulno had sent out before. This was an entire army of around two thousand.

In fact, his scouts told him that the real number was only about eighteen hundred, but it still looked like an army. Maybe it wasn’t quite enough to challenge his soldiers in a direct fight, but it was certainly enough to make trouble for him, and to show the attitudes of those who led the warriors.

Those very leaders were doing so with no shame. Unlike Ogulno, who had hidden the identity of his warriors when they had destroyed the embankment, this group was bravely showing off their flags atop their army. They carried colors from all kinds of lords under Corco’s rule.

In total, he counted nine estates from various parts of his kingdom. And the largest flag in the front of the formation was one he was familiar with, and one he had always considered one of his closest allies. Flying in the wind were the colors of House Saqartu. Earlier than expected, Mayu had gone and done something stupid.

“Positions! Ready for defense!” Corco barked his orders as soon as he identified the opponent. He didn’t expect that his lords had come here to provide reinforcements for his siege. In a tense atmosphere, his orders spread throughout the camp, and soon Saniya’s army got ready to defend their little hill.

Luckily, they hadn’t been lazy over the past few days and had built up a strong defensive position. Hidden behind man-high walls made of earth, wood, and sandbags, and armed with the most modern weapons in the world, they didn’t have anything to fear.

Even if all of Ogulno’s warriors were to leave their city and join this new army, it still wouldn’t be enough to threaten Corco’s troops, at least so long as they didn’t leave their camp. At the same time, the newly arrived coalition army of lords also took position on a nearby hill. It was a spot that clearly opposed Corco’s troops and covered the city. Their message was clear: this army had come with bad intentions.

At least they didn’t show any immediate signs of aggression. After they had taken up their spot, they didn’t send any skirmishers to initiate combat, and they didn’t beat their war drums to improve their morale either. Eventually, they even showed some manners.

After a few minuted of tense waiting, a smaller group of envoys peeled off from their main army and made its way to Corco’s defensive position. On the way, the envoys still held the flags of the lords up high, a clear sign that they wanted to negotiate.

At least they haven’t lost their minds completely yet. Let’s see how far gone they are.

“Let them in,” Corco ordered. “I’ll receive them in my command tent.”

Before the envoys arrived, Corco dressed up to show some authority, something that was rare for him. However, if those lords wanted to go against him, he would use every means available to fight back. Thus, he rushed into his tent and changed his clothes.

This time, he would wear his chainmail armor outside his clothing, with a priceless purple robe underneath. His choice of clothing would not only show his martial strength and remind his guests of his victories in battle, but it would also showoff his wealth and the benefits the lords could get from cooperation with him.

To top it all off, he also put on his bronze crown, which signified his legal status as ruler of the southern kingdom.This one was a replica, since the original had been lost in the naval battle against the Arcavians, but it didn’t matter much. No one would be able to tell the difference anyways. Those medalan nobles loved rules and symbols, so surely they would be impressed by the appearance of a crown.

Once he was done dressing up, he also set the scene for his meeting with the envoys. He had his people arrange the tallest chair in the camp, and set it up at the entrance of his command tent. In this position, he would still be sitting within the tent and underneath its protection, but anyone who came to meet him would have to stand outside in the open. As if on queue, light snow began to fall, which would further impress the difference between him and others upon his guests.

On top of that, Corco arranged two dozen of his guards to be stationed around the tent’s entrance. With guns and halberds in hand and an upright posture, they looked ready for battle at any moment. This much, he thought, ought to be enough to show his determination. This time, he didn’t want to be diplomatic with the lords. This time, he would not take a step back, not one centimeter.

Not long after the preparations were done, the envoys appeared. To Corco’s surprise, their leader wasn’t any no-name warrior this time. Instead, the great governor Mayu Saqartu had personally appeared before him, sporting his silly red coat once more. Unlike his cowardly uncle Ogulno, Mayu actually had the guts – or lack of sense – to face off with him directly.

With a smug grin on his smug face, the young governorwanted to approach Corco straight away, but he was blocked by the lances of Corco’s guards. Not even Mayu would be dumb enough to start a fight with an armed man, so he could only pull a sour face, much to Corco’s enjoyment.

“King Corcopaca, Governor Mayu Saqartu has come to represent the lords of the south, and wishes for an audience.”

With great concern, Corco looked at all the flags that were being held up behind Mayu. Once again, he counted them, and once again he came up with nine names of various noble houses. There were more than the king had hoped, but at least not every lord within his kingdom was represented. Many of those he considered his closest allies were absent. At least he hadn’t lost all of his support quite yet. After a long pause to adjust his mood and show his authority, Corco finally spoke up.

“He may approach,” he said, and waved in Mayu’s vague direction. At once the guards parted, and let Mayu step forward. However, as soon ashe tried to get closer than five meters, another set of guards stepped out from besides Corco’s chair, ready to intercept him again. Their actions forced Mayu to halt at a five meter distance, close enough for a conversation, but too far for a lunging surprise attack.

This was common etiquette in Saniya. The emperors – and now the kings – were not to be approached without consent. Even if visitorsdid have consent, they still had to keep a certain minimumdistance to show their obedience and guarantee the ruler’s safety.

Although every medalan noble would be aware of these rules, in Corco’s modern kingdom, this wasn’t a rule that was usually followed, same as with so many others. This time however, Corco had decided to show his muscles, and made full use of his privileges. As a result, Mayu’s sour face turned even more acidic.

“King Corco! What is the meaning of this!?” he shouted over the shoulders of a guard.

“Who dares speak out of turn, before gaining the king’s permission!?”

An officer who stood next to Corco’s seat barked back accusations. At the same time, the guards stepped forward again to driveMayu back. However,the generous king waved them all back.

“It’s fine. Let him vent his frustration, and understand reality.” Corco looked over to his cousin. “It’s a five step distance from the king at all times, governor. That’s how it ought to be, by right. What, do you have a problem with following the rules? Not that I’m surprised by that. Looking at your performance in the past, you seem eager to break them.”

From the very start of the exchange, there was a smell of gunpowder in the air. These would be tough talks.

Chapter 351 - The Final Talks

“Hah, finally, the king shows his true nature, acting like a tyrant towards his equals.” Mayu’s bitter laugh and harsh accusation rang across the snowy camp. Though Corco knew that his cousin was just blowing hot air into the cold, as he usually did, and remained unimpressed.

“No, that’s how I always act towards my enemies, especially if they approach me with an army,” Corco replied in a tone as cold as the air around them. “It’s just that you haven’t tried hard enough to be my enemy before. Congratulations, you’re almost there.”

Although there was an implicit threat in Corco’s words, Mayu still didn’t back down. With the same prideful posture and the same loud voice as before, he shouted out his nonsense.

“These lands are not part of House Pluritac’s estates. The troops under this governor’s command have every right to be here, since they have received the permission of Lord Ogulno.”

How long did it take you to prepare such a weak argument, I wonder?

“Oh, and you just came here by pure chance, did you? And now you’ve coincidentally taken up position to defend that city from my army, right?” Corco asked back.

Whether or not Mayu’s army had a right to be here wasn’t the question anyways. The question was what they were doing here in the first place.

“This governor may direct the same question at the king,” Mayu bit back. “This governor has led a coalition of lords to support a fellow noble in a time of dire need. Not long ago, the lords have received news that Lord Ogulno’s lands were being invaded by a foreign army, marching on Kapra. As men of integrity, the lords of the south decided to unite their forces and bravely step forward to lift the enemy’s siege.”

“So I’m the enemy now?” Corco narrowed his eyes, but his smile still remained.

“This governor was not previously aware that the invading force was led by King Corcopaca,” Mayu voiced his bad excuse with no shame. “However, although King should not be considered an enemy of the southern lords, this governor still has to ask what king aims to do here, on another lord’s estate.”

“You really have no idea what’s going on this time, right?” Corco asked, though he was fairly certain that Mayu knew exactly. He wouldn’t have just come here on a whim after all. “Ogulno went too far this time. Working with outsiders against his own people, conspiracy, and an attempted assassination on his king. After all that, do you really want to speak up for him?”

“No matter what, he is still one of the lords, and one of our own. Not to mention, Lord Ogulno is also this governor’s uncle, and ones family should be protected. This governor will not retreat until he learns what King plans to do here today.”

Again, Mayu was playing ignorant, while he indirectly accused Corco of forgetting his family ties. However, the king wasn’t in the mood to play any games.

“Really? You want to fight me to the death over this?” he asked as he leaned forward. The chair stood on a small elevation, so even in his seat, Corco towered over his cousin. “You better think about this twice. I’m not playing around this time. Don’t even think that your little army will be enough to make me retreat. This time, I will bring back Ogulno to stand trial for his crimes. Considering the things he’s done recently, and in the past few years, that’s more than within my rights.”

“And where is the evidence for these supposed crimes?” Mayu shot back straight away.

Whatever plan he had this time, it gave him enough backing to oppose Corco. Whether that was confidence or ignorance on Mayu’s part was yet to be determined.

“What, you think I suddenly lost my head and attacked a southern lord without any concrete evidence?” Corco asked while he stifled a fake laugh. “I’m not even attacking my enemies without a casus belli, let alone my allies. A couple days ago, I caught dozens of warriors from House Ogulno trespassing on my land. Now they’re my prisoners. They’ve already confessed their allegiance to House Ogulno, which is all the evidence you should need.”

Mayu once again opened his mouth, but Corco raised his hands and interrupted him.

“I know what you’re trying to say: Another lord, or maybe I myself, is trying to frame Ogulno, so we’re presenting fake warriors. But that’s a story that won’t survive any confrontation with reality and you know it. Those warriors didn’t just grow out of the ground. They’ve been part of noble society for decades. Other warriors and lords from other estates are bound to know one or two of those people I’ve caught. They’ll know where they come from as well. With this many, there’s no hiding their true identities, at least not for long. Not to mention that my advanced army pursued the rest of those escaping troops into Ogulno’s estate as well.”

Corco took a short break, but this time, Mayu didn’t do him the favor to defend the indefensible.

“I also have secured a river embankment that those people were trying to break apart,” Corco continued. “We’ve left everything the way we found it. You’re free to check it out yourself. The damage to the earth is still there, as are all the tool tossed all over the ground. There should be plenty of fingerprints too, so there’s no denying who tried to do the damage, and when.”

Again, Corco paused. Possibly because Mayu realized the trouble his uncle Ogulno was in, he was finally gearing up to speak, but the king interrupted him once again.

“Wait, I probably forgot a few things, so don’t start yet. I wrote down a little something for you.” He leaned over and pulled a stack of paper from the hands of his officer. “Here. I’ve been working on this over the past few days. This document contains a comprehensive list of all the physical evidence we found, as well as written and signed statements from the warriors we caught. Don’t even try to deny this, you’re not gonna win a debate based on facts.”

Although Corco held out the paper, Mayu made no attempt to take it. How could he, with his fists clenched like that?

“Whatever excuses you come up with, you will not punish one of our own with your despicable methods today. The lords of the south have come today to shield their own. Don’t even think about attacking Kapra!”

Now Mayu wasn’t even trying to sound formal anymore. Without any proper form of address, he pointed at Corco and screamed his vapid accusations.

“Or what?” the king asked back with a shallow smile. “Are you going to start a civil war over this! Is that the plan? Use your uncle’s death and the naivete of the lords around you to kill me, just because I stole your girl? You’ve lost your mind.”

“Your sharp tongue will not save you this time.”

Again, Mayu refused to engage Corco in proper conversation. Maybe he knew that he couldn’t win on the issues. So far, everything he had said was nothing but emotionally charged campaign slogans.

“This time, the combined lords of the south will stand to oppose your tyranny,” he continued in the same vein. “Today, this governor has come not only to defend Lord Ogulno from any injustice. No, this lord has also come to speak justice on behalf of all the lords of the south!”

Here it comes, Corco thought. What’s your real goal today, and how long have you been planning this little stunt?

“Looks like you have trouble counting,” Corco replied to take away Mayu’s momentum. “Those flags behind you certainly don’t represent all southern families, do they? You don’t even have half.”

“They represent more than enough. Including House Ogulno, a total of ten houses have come together to oppose the unclean methods of House Pluritac. As descendants of the Sachay ancestors, they will withstand the attempts of the northern imperial house to claim the power of the south and make the Sachay people slaves to the northerners!”

“Oh fuck off, little cousin! Who am I treating as slaves, exactly?” Corco asked, now just as worked up as Mayu.

Based on what did he look like an invader, exactly? House Pluritac had nothing to do with him anyways, not since his exile.

“Are the lords not slaves under the King of the South, living within their master’s house, begging for his gracious charity?” Mayu sneered. With an annoyed expression, he swept the collecting snow off his red velvet shoulders. “All the lords are stuffed together into Saniya, forced to live in that city, away from their ancestral homes, which have become harder and harder to govern and control from afar. None of them have any choice in this matter, because their great king would not bestow them any trade contracts if they are not willing to imprison themselves inside his city.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that I’m taking everyone to make money together? How are we supposed to negotiate any detailed deals if they’re not there in person? Via carrier pigeon? Before the Triumvirate was established, they already spent most of the year in Arguna anyways. Now they just spend most of the year in Saniya. What’s the difference?” Corco sneered as he spoke in a biting tone. “Oh woe is the brave lords, they are swimming in gold and silver while living in the greatest city in Medala. How dare I harm them so?”

“Hah, your vicious intentions have not remained hidden from the lords of the south.” Together with his fake laugh, Mayu struck a silly pose, pressing his hands into his hips. However, his words were filled with fire. “Why else would this governor be tasked with demanding back the rights that have been taken from them? With the establishment of more trade contracts, the other estates will become more and more dependent on Saniya. Even worse, what the lords receive are only crumbs of what the Pluritac estate can earn off the hard work of the Sachay people. At the same time, you stretch your hands into foreign estates by establishing the new roads and towers into lands which are not yours. Yet these towers are manned by your own people, the roads cleaned and maintained by your workers. Foreign invaders on our soil, that is what they are! Yet all these issues are nothing compared to your use of fertilizer. So long as Saniya holds full control over the distribution of fertilizer, none of the lords would ever dare to oppose their king, even if they are in the right. How can this still be considered an equal relationship?”

Finally, Corco felt like his cousin was getting to the point. Fertilizer, this was what Mayu had been aiming for all this time. His heart cooled and his muscles tensed as the king spoke his next words.

“Is this the plan then? After you’ve talked this much nonsense, you should finally be getting to the good part, right? Go ahead, state your demands.”

“The demands are simple,” Mayu said, once again with a gloating smile as if he was in full control. “The lords want nothing more than what they deserve: Security from prosecution through their king, as well as participation in the business which had made them dependents of Hosue Pluritac. In detail, the lords demand access and participation in Saniya’s fertilizer manufactory. Further, to avoid similar positions of weakness from occurring in the future, the lords also demand access to all other manufactories owned by the king, to ensure that no secret projects will threaten the sovereignty of the lords like the fertilizer has.”

“So you want to steal my property, and you think I won’t do anything about it. Very clever.”

“It is merely a supervisory function. Nothing will be taken away, so there is no theft of any kind.”

Right. It’s just a coincidence that you will be able to see all of Saniya’s trade secrets with your little setup. Not to mention, you ‘supervisors’ can invent a million reasons to take away ‘faulty machines’ or ‘insubordinate commoner experts’ to kidnap the industries over to your estates.

Finally, Mayu’s plan was revealed. The more Corco thought about it, the less it seemed like it was really his. His cousin had never been clever or insidious enough to come up with such a thorough strategy. However, the king still wasn’t too worried. For now, the lords only had demands, with barely any justification, and lacking power behind them.

“I wonder, how do you justify this nonsense exactly?” he asked thus, still in a calm tone. “I’ve never denied anyone from buying my fertilizer. It’s even being sold to the two northern kingdoms. So why would I stop selling to my own people? I’ve never used the fertilizer as a threat against you, or any other lords. And I never plan to do so. If you want, I can even write that into law. Isn’t your entire argument a bit weak?”

“The lords have seen how those are treated who do not conform to the unspoken rules. Lord Ogulno is the best example,” Mayu argued. “He has not received any fertilizer, and has been punished for remaining true to his people and staying at his estate, rather than moving to Saniya.”

“That’s his choice.” Corco shrugged. “He can buy all the fertilizer he wants, so long as he can pay for it. If he wants to move to Saniya, he is free to do so too. What am I supposed to do if he’d rather stay home and starve to death? Or do you want me to order him otherwise? I don’t demand slavish obedience from Lord Ogulno. I just want him to acknowledge that he’s not my superior, and I want him to stop assassinating me. But I guess that’s what makes me a tyrant, right? Sounds downright monstrous!”

Up until now, Corco had not taken the threats of his cousin seriously. So far, nothing during their talks had changed his mind. Even with all the brain-twisting excuses Mayu had come up with, the legal and moral right was still fully on Corco’s side. There was no reason to step back, since he was in full control. Even so, the young governor was not willing to step back either.

“No matter what you say, the lords will not stand down to tyranny this time! Your goal today is to destroy one of our own because he would not bow his head to you. But this goal will fail today. You should retreat your men, or this governor will take no responsibility for what will happen later.”

“That’s it, you lose the argument, so you put up your fists? Are you that eager to start a war with me, governor?”

Corco emphasized the word to remind Mayu of his status, and of his responsibility towards the other lords. However, he was once again thinking too highly of his cousin.

“If necessary, this governor will use force to intervene and guarantee justice for Lord Ogulno,” Mayu insisted, stubborn as ever.

Finally, Corco was really getting angry. The shallow smile faded from his face as he realized that there was no point in talking anymore. If Mayu was determined to start a fight, today Corco was willing to follow along.

“You and what army?” he asked. “You think those handful of warriors out there are gonna be an obstacle for me? Your armies aren’t even mobilized. Those leftovers out there are just whatever little strength you managed to assemble without me noticing. You have ten lords together, but didn’t even manage to collect two thousand warriors. That’s less than two hundred warriors per lord. Are you suggesting this ‘army’ of yours is a serious obstacle for me?”

“These troops are simply a sign of our determination, and a proof of things to come should King Corcopaca not see the error of his ways and compromise.” Now that he saw Corco’s smile fade, it was time for Mayu to show his teeth. “During this time, can you afford to fight a war against your own people? How many are you willing to kill, of your own, to achieve your dreams of tyranny? How many will have to suffer?”

This time, Corco was really angry. All acting was gone. Did this bastard really try to blackmail him with the lives of other Yaku? Mayu, like many others, should know how much Corco valued the lives of his people, and probably used them as a shield as his trump card. However, the king wouldn’t have backed down, even if he had been in a calmer state of mind.

“Don’t talk to me about strategy!” he shouted, rather than mention the lives that would be lost in a war. Pointing out his weakness more would only cause trouble. Instead, he would change topics and show his cousin that he could indeed afford to fight him head on. “You haven’t been in a battle all your life, you spoiled brat, let alone in a war! The war in the Verduic Sea is stable, our northern borders are secured, and the Arcavians will have no more supply lines in the east once I take out Ogulno’s snake pit.”

“And what about Saniya?” Mayu asked, now with an icy calm and a grin that turned his eyes into slits. “What about the troubles in the city?”

“Is this some sort of bluff? I was there like a week ago. Nothing’s wrong with my city.”

Although Corco said so, the ice from Mayu’s words slowly spread to Corco’s spine. Out here, he had no access to radio or his beacon towers. He had no idea what was really happening in Saniya right this moment. What had his cousin done, what was going on in his city?

“Much can happen in a short time,” Mayu said, still armed with an eerie smile. “Maybe, if King Corco insists on war today, he will have to fight not only against foreigners, not only against the warriors of his lords, but also against the people of his own city. This time, King Corcopaca, it may be wise to restrain your anger and not act on impulse, like you tend to do. This time, your rage may cause more damage than you can afford.”

Hermit's Note: Things are heating up again, time to clean out the trash.

These are the two chapters for this week. There will be two more chapters for Twisted Skies today or tomorrow.

Chapter 352 - Chaos in the City

“The end times are here! Listen well, citizens of the accursed city, steeped in sin! Hear the words of the Divines, about the foolishness of those that guide you! Listen well, about the wrath of the heavens that will strike all who do not repent! About the evils that befall those who commit evil, those that forget their past!”

Outside of the yard of the first Tasa manufactory, a priest in a dark blue robe was walking along the street. In his hands he held a stack of papers, which contained words that no doubt explained exactly what sort of doom was about to befall everyone in this city.

These priests had appeared a few days ago, and had since continued to belt out their strange teachings without pause, from dawn to dusk. As if they knew no fatigue, they would constantly teach the people of Saniya about the prophecies and signs that foretold of the city’s destruction. In their words, the main culprit for their imminent death was usually their king, whose hubris would drive them all into an endless abyss, if they were to be believed.

The sight of the screaming priests made Sami nervous every time he saw it. Not because he believed in their doomsday prophecies, but because he feared that others in the city would. Once the priest’s voice had disappeared back into the cacophony of the streets, he let out a sigh of relief and focused on his work again.

In the front yard of Saniya’s first Tasa manufactory, mounds of materials were piled up. Various types of woods, precious and cheap, as well as different felts and furs were thrown together. In another end of the open space sat buckets of glue, as well as some more exotic materials meant to decorate more expensive goods.

Although the manufactory hadn’t officially opened its doors yet, work had already started for Sami the carpenter. After all, it was important for them to get used to their new equipment and work environment early. That way, their boss could make money as soon as the factory was done and all the workers arrived. And for Sami, a happy boss would also mean an early bonus.

Thus, the carpenter had quit his job as a barman at Ekoko’s tavern early. For weeks now, he had been working here. During that time, he had helped with the installation of various pieces of carpentry tools inside the large hall. At the same time, he had tried hard to get used to the new machines, while he always thought about ways in which they could be improved in convenience. In the process, his commitment and ability had also shown.

Thus, before he had even received his first payday, his boss had already promoted him to act as the foreman of all carpenters in the manufactory. However, if he ever wanted to see any of his increased pay, he had to at least make sure the workers under him wouldn’t slack off on their first day.

“Move it, we gotta have our first test pieces done before it gets dark!” he shouted at the listless men who were carrying the supplies at a snail’s pace. “Or we won’t be able to start work on time tomorrow! Only one day of work and we’re already a day behind! Who’s gonna pay for the delay!?”

When he saw that the workers weren’t trying any harder than before, he added, “Come on, the boss said he would come by today to take a look. You wanna show him how well you’re slacking off!?”

Finally, the workers sped up by half a step, though Sami was still dissatisfied. In his plans, he had wanted to finish up a few test pieces of furniture early on to show boss Tawo once he showed up here. After all, their entire production line had been Sami’s idea, so he was eager to prove himself.

Their new manufactory was planned to produce relatively cheap, high-quality furniture for the new financial elites of the city. Because new people were streaming into Saniya every day, there was much money to be had. Some brought their own wealth, but most of them simply found some of the very lucrative employ that the city had to offer.

Meanwhile, the trade ships continued to arrive from all over Medala and even overseas, bringing back vast riches with them. Getting rich in Saniya was as easy as it could be, of that Sami was certain.

As a result, plenty of people who hadn’t lived here for very long were suddenly making a lot of money. They had their places to stay, but often only the bare minimum things they needed to survive. Since all furniture in Saniya was still handmade by the local craftsmen, there were not nearly enough supplies to decorate all the new homes in the city. Thus, there was a massive demand for expensive, high-quality furniture at the moment.

However, the furniture imported from other parts of the Medala Empite was even more expensive than the local stuff. They were made in the same way – by the hands of master craftsmen – but now the traders also took their cut.

If the Tasa bank could put together a proper manufactory that built high-quality furniture, they could drastically reduce costs with the use of machinery and stream-lined production methods. As a result, they could offer affordable, high-quality furniture to countless newly wealthy citizens of Saniya, which would mean great profits.

At least that was the result Sami had come after extensive research. The owners of the manufactory were bankers and merchants, people who didn’t really know much about craftsmanship. Thus, they had hired many people like Sami long before they had ever opened their first manufactory.

Only once they had enough expert staff together had the owners of the Tasa Bank planned to decide what exactly they wanted to do with their new workshop. They had used the abilities of the hired experts, who were meant to provide them with options before the manufactory officially began production in late winter or early spring.

In the process, Sami’s mind and talent had stood out, which had been another reason for his early promotion. Even so, he still struggled to lead the other workers. Due to his young age and recent promotion, many didn’t take him seriously. He tried to compensate with a loud voice and harsh attitude, but the effect was often minimal. Much to his frustration, some of the other foremen could control the workers effortlessly, without even raising their voices.

“No need to work the kids too hard. It’s been a long day,” one of these easygoing foremen said.

When Sami turned around he saw Cado come towards him, as if on cue. The older man had been hired away from his previous position in one of the royal manufactories. Unlike Sami, who would only be responsible overseeing the carpentry work, Cado had actual experience running one of these modern workshops, and was thus tasked to oversee the manufactory as a whole. While they technically had the same title, Cado’s foreman position was certainly higher than Sami’s.

“Hello, Master Cado,” he thus said in a polite, careful tone. “What brings you here? I’m afraid that there isn’t much to inspect. Not until we’ve made the first test pieces.”

“I’m not here to oversee your work, youngster,” Cado said in his calming tone. “No need to worry. Rather, I brought a guest.”

From behind his back, the old foreman pushed forward a young man, whose nervous stare was locked on the ground between Sami’s feet.

“This is Kyunya,” Cado introduced. “He’s the head apprentice in master Rimaq’s print shop. They have agreed to help us print the information papers that Master Sawo requested. He’s come here to finish up the deal with us. Once you are done with your test here, it would be good if we could show him some rough results of our work, so we know what exactly to print on the paper. I mean, until now we still don’t quite know what we’ll end up selling, right? We might also need your help with a few of the more professional carpentry terms. I’m much, but I’m not a carpenter, that much I can tell you.”

“Not a problem,” Sami replied, before he turned to the print shop’s apprentice who looked no older than sixteen. “Hello, young man. I’m happy to assisst you with whatever you need. Though it may have to wait for a while, since the workers are still stowing our materials. Can’t really make a chair without wood, as you may imagine. Our raw materials came here later today, you see, so we’re behind on schedule. Might also take a few minutes until everything is cleaned up enough to sit down and have a talk, since the materials inside are a bit all over the place. I hope you don’t mind, Apprentice Kyunya.”

“Of course not, master,” Kyunya replied with an honest bow. While the young paper maker’s apprentice didn’t seem all too bothered, Cado frowned at Sami’s explanation.

“Why would the delivery of materials be late? We sent the orders early enough, right? I’m sure there was no problem with the payment either. If that darn merchant won’t give me an explanation, I’ll go and demand our money back right now.”

“They said that they were held up on the roads for hours on their way here. Everything is congested these days, so getting the heavy cargo through the roads must have been tough.”

As if on command, the reason for the congested streets appeared outside the yard once more. Again, Sami and the others could hear the priests shouting their horror tales about the end of the city.

“It won’t be because of the priests, right?” Cado asked.

“Who knows, maybe there was something else on the way.” Sami shrugged. “Could have been a broken down wagon, or an impromptu military drill blocking the road. I didn’t ask so much, was too busy thinking how we’d get our work done today before nightfall. Wouldn’t surprise me if it was the priests though. The streets have been in chaos ever since they showed up here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyunya the apprentice suddenly said.

“What is there to be sorry about?” Sami looked at him in bemusement. “You’re not a priest in disguise, are you?”

Despite Sami’s lighthearted joke, the young apprentice didn’t seem relieved at all. In fact, his body and voice cramped up even more.

“It’s our fault that things got so bad out there,” he said. “You see, master’s print shop was the one to print all the papers that the priests have been handing out.”

“Wait, really!?” Sami asked in shock. These days, those papers were everywhere, nailed to doors and lying in the gutters. Though most of them were still in the hands of the priests, who handed them out to anyone who passed them, whether they wanted them or not.

“Yes, I told master that I thought the order was a bad idea. In those papers, they’re directly attacking the crown after all. Calling the king ‘sinful’ and ‘unfilial’. However, master said that ‘money is money’, so we took the work anyways. Even more, it’s money from the Pacha priests. He thought their words couldn’t be wrong. But when I look outside these days, I am not so sure.”

“What do you know, boy,” Cado barked. His usual, calm self had been replaced by an uncharacteristic scowl. “The priests are priests for a reason. It’s because they know better than us. That’s true in any case, and it’s even more true when it comes to stuff like this. Even our king knows that, that’s why the priests are the ones who judge criminals in our city.”

“I’ve known priests who don’t know much.” Sami sneered. Now he was getting heated up as well. “Back home, there was an endless supply of those. Guys who just wanted to take your money in exchange for some nice, fake words about your dead uncle. In the first place, what can these people know about Saniya? Almost all the priests walking on the streets are outsiders. This city is like no place else in the kingdom. How would they know enough about it to judge us all as sinners and beasts? They’re just making the people in the city nervous with their talk of doom and end times.”

“They’re connected to the mysteries of the world!” Cado shouted back. “That’s how they know these things! They’re reading the future of the city, not trying to understand our economic system! No matter how many schools our city has, the priests will always know more about the future than anyone else. No one else can even begin to understand it! The priests have long predicted trouble, and the last few years were nothing but trouble for most folks with all the wars and extra kings. They’ve been right all this time, why would they be wrong this time!? What they’re saying makes sense too. Sooner or later, the lightning will destroy this place!”

“Isn’t that just superstition?” Stuck in between the two shouting foremen, Kyunya made a hesitant remark. “In school, they told us that lightning is just a natural form of energy. It’s not a divine force at all. I don’t think there can be so much lightning that it destroys an entire city.”

“In the last thunderstorm a few days ago, I saw a lightning strike the top of Rapra Castle with my own eyes, just like the priests are saying,” Cado insisted, seemingly proud of his experience. “That place is being punished by the Divines, as far as I’m concerned. Something big will happen soon, and these things don’t happen when the nobles adhere to the old rules. Our king made so many new laws that he forgot about the ancient ones. Because those were made for a reason.”

“Well, no matter what you say, I find this whole thing suspicious,” Sami replied. He was glad that Kyunya had spoken up and calmed things down a bit. At least now, he was no longer in a shouting match with his direct superior. “The priests suddenly showed up in the dozens, the second the king left the city. They all talk the same talk, they cover the streets of the city well without getting into each other’s way, and they’ve even spent big on those papers they are handing out. They’re way too organized, I think. It smells fishy, like they’re planning something bad.”

“They can be well-organized and well-meaning. If they’ve seen the city’s impending doom in the quicksilver, why wouldn’t they try their best to prevent it?” Cado insisted again.

“If they really cared about the people in the city, they wouldn’t warn us like this. All the shouting is only making more chaos. This way, something really will happen, but it won’t be because of divine force. The people in the city are already on edge with all the wars happening all at once. If the king doesn’t come back soon, this whole town will go up in flames, and then there might not even be anything to come back to.”

Unbeknownst to the people in the yard, while they were arguing, the king had already rushed back into his city, to put out another fire that had sprung up around him, this time in his own backyard.

Hermit's Notes: Yup, a bit late on the two chapters this week. Sorry about that.

Chapter 353 - Emergency Meeting

Despite Mayu’s warning, Corco didn’t feel the need to lift his siege on Kapra. He wasn’t intimidated by empty, vague threats, and wouldn’t do anything without some more intelligence.

Said intelligence arrived a day later, together with a reason to retreat. One of Corco’s runners reached him with a message from Saniya that day. Although the message wasn’t all too clear on the details, the contents were alarming enough for the king to rush back home straight away.

Still, although he had to give up on punishing Ogulno for now, he wouldn’t just give in like that. For now, he retreated with his army, but left most of his men behind in the Utusku territory of Lord Macuy, just north of Kapra.

Together with the thousand that were already stationed there, there were now five thousand soldiers total on the eastern border. Facing such a threat, the Arcavians would not dare to continue their raids across the border. At the same time, the stationed troops would also prevent Mayu and his warriors from pursuing the king as he rushed back home.

Five thousand men were more than enough to hold off whatever small force Mayu and Ogulno could muster in the short-term, especially as the defending army. One of his officers was left in charge, so their leadership would also be stable enough to hold on until Corco had cleaned up whatever mess had been caused back home.

With his back secured for now and all of his commoner soldiers left behind, the king could speed ahead much faster than before. It only took him a day until he and a small contingent of elite cultivator guards from among the ghost warriors returned to Saniya.

As soon as he entered the city, he could feel the change in atmosphere. There were even more people on the street than usual, attracted by priests who were shouting strange slogans into the evening air.

Unlike before, when a full street in Saniya would have been accompanied by a rich, lively atmosphere, now the people seemed nervous and confused. With shrunken necks, they glanced at each other, the castle in the distance, or the cloudy sky up above. Luckily, Corco had changed out of his impractical purple robe before he had begun his sprint back home, so no one took particular notice of him until he reached Rapra Castle. He never stopped once.

While it would have been useful to scope out the mood of his citizens in the streets, he had to get a general idea of their situation first. For that, he had to come to his center of power, to get a more detailed report from his people.

“So, what the hell happened this time?” Corco asked into the room.

For this briefing, everyone with any kind of power in the castle had been assembled in Corco’s study. In fact, they had to change rooms to the large study he rarely used, since there were so many people present.

Sumaci sat next to him and looked guilty. Meanwhile, everyone else, from Fadelio, over Tama, Atau and Brym to Ronnie, looked deeply concerned by what was going on. Even the police chief Quato, who never seemed too emotional, sported a deep frown.

“I’m sorry,” Sumaci said first. “This is my fault. I should have seen the signs sooner.”

When she spoke up, Corco realized that she must have felt horrible about the state of the city. After all, she had been put in charge by him, and was thus responsible for anything that happened during his absence. Before Corco could reassure his wife and ease her worries, someone else did so first, someone the king had never expected to help out.

“There was nothing to see.” Tama said in an annoyed tone. “If anything, this is something the ghosts should have spotted early. But those people practically came out of nowhere.”

“Okay, but blame won’t get us anywhere for now,” Corco said.

Although he was happy that they were all blaming themselves, rather than each other, it wasn’t exactly constructive. At least their conversation had helped him calm down somewhat, so he could analyze the situation with a sharp mind.

“First, I’d like to know what exactly is happening in our city,” he said.

“I’ll officially start the briefing then.” Fadelio stood up to speak. “One day after you left, Governor Mayu took most of his guards and left the city, though we felt that there was no particular reason to react to his departure.”

The statement felt outrageous to Corco who had seen Mayu’s army, but he stayed calm. Fadelio wasn’t someone known to be careless, so he was bound to have his reasons.

“Why not?” the king asked thus. “Mayu leaving right after me would have been highly suspicious, right?”

“According to our intelligence, there was no mass mobilization of warriors in Puscanacra or any of the other estate capitals,” Tama explained. “With the limited number of troops they could raise without our notice, Governor Mayu was not considered a major threat.”

“I still sent a message along the beacon towers as soon as he left, but it seems like you were no longer in range of the towers and could not be reached in a short time,” Fadelio added.

“At that point, we had already received your message about the Yaku warriors who tried to flood the road,” Atau said. “Their whole timing was really tight. They must have planned this thing for a long time. Lots of moving parts to it, and it all must have worked out just the way they thought it would.”

“So when do the priests come into play?” Corco asked. “They didn’t grow out of the ground, did they? Mitosis maybe?”

“The priests showed up not long after we sent you the message,” Fadelio said, while ignoring his king’s fantastic sense of humor. “Two days after you left, a large number of priests started migrating into the city here all at once. Their actions seemed very targeted, and were clearly planned out ahead of time.”

“Interestingly, none of the local priests are actively participating in this action, even though we have a lot of extra Pacha priests in the city who serve as judges. These new ones came from all over the empire,” Tama added. “Some were probably laying in wait in the villages and towns around Saniya, but most of them arrived all at once, by ship. Entire ships filled with holy men, coming here either through the rivers, or from the ports in the north.”

“Northerners? So once again, everyone’s playing along to fuck us.”

Although the involvement of northerners in this operation was news to him, he wasn’t shocked. Mayu and Ogulno seemed eager to conspire with the Arcavians, so why wouldn’t they work with the northern kingdoms as well?

“That’s what it looks like,” Fadelio said. “Once they landed, we realized that something was up. But by then there was nothing we could do.”

“We could always just imprison them. Then they cannot spout their lies any longer. There, problem solved.”

As if she wasn’t insinuating anything dangerous, Tama just threw her outrageous suggestion into the room. From her annoyed tone, Corco could tell that this wasn’t the first time he had offered that plan. Right after, Fadelio’s response also told him that this wasn’t the first time they had fought over it either.

“On what grounds?” he asked. “They didn’t do anything but talk big, and they are priests. Do you want to start arresting priests in the middle of the city, just because you don’t like what they have to say?”

“With all due respect, Lady Tamaya, arrests are not an avenue we can pursue, not if we wish to adhere to King Corco’s laws,” Quato the police chief added. Since he was one of Tama’s former confidantes, Corco was surprised to actually see him refute her.

“Fine, but we could always close down the ports at least, right?” Tama still insisted. “We need to guarantee that these priests don’t increase their numbers even more.”

“Again, I believe that this plan seems a bit rash and ill-advised.” This time, Brym replied in a calm tone. “We’re a port town now. Any day of closed ports is poison for our reputation and will cost us more money and influence in the long run than anyone here can afford.”

“Not to mention, the priests are already here,” Ronnie added. “Closing the ports now will achieve nothing.”

“We’ve all had this discussion before,” Sumaci concluded the debate. “In the end, by the time they landed here, there was nothing we could do to prevent their actions. Just like Advisor Fadelio said.”

As soon as Sumaci spoke up, the debate among Corco’s staff was over. More than anything, he was glad to see that they were respecting his wife in this way. No matter what she said, it seemed like she had proven herself capable when he had been away. After a short while, Corco nodded towards Fadelio to continue the briefing.

“Once the priests had landed here, they started to walk the streets and preach about the sins of the city,” the advisor said. “Their overall accusations are vague, but most of them hint that we’ve lost our way with all the progress in the city, and how our arrogance made our ancestors and the heavens angry. They’ve also been handing out these papers to the masses on the street.”

Fadelio handed Corco a piece of paper small enough to easily hold in one hand. It was printed all over with font in various sizes, eye-catching and easy to read.

City of Sin. Haunting spirits of our ancestors. Wrath of the heavens. Who comes up with this shit?

“Where did these things come from?” Corco asked. The flyer looked too well-made to come from anywhere outside of Saniya. Only here did the people have the kind of high-quality printing presses to do a fine job like that. Not to mention, the flyers weren’t written in classic Yaku writing. Rather, they were printed in the new Yaku script that Corco had specifically designed years back to make learning and printing the written word easier.

“We’ve traced the papers back to a small, private print shop of one ‘Master Rimaq’,” Quato explained. “But again, there is nothing we can do. He’s not breaking any laws, so if he’s willing to value money over the city’s stability, we really can’t do anything to stop him.”

“He could always have an accident,” Tama suggested, but her words made Corco frown. Once again, Tama’s solutions were too aggressive and short-sighted.

“There will be no accidents in my city,” he insisted. “We don’t want to give our enemies any more ammunition to attack us with. There’s always a better solution than murder. Let’s try and find it.”

“See, that’s what I said, Laqhis,” Atau chimed in with a big grin on his face.

“You did not say a thing, dear husband.” Tama turned towards the admiral.

“Well, maybe you just didn’t hear me.”

While the couple was bickering, Corco returned to the topic at hand.

“My people aren’t that dumb, right?” he asked Fadelio as he pointed at the flyer. “Will anyone actually believe this crap?”

That was Corco’s biggest gripe with the story so far. In his understanding, so long as the people’s lives were getting better, they would ignore any naysayers, especially if they didn’t have any evidence for their claims. Nowhere did the people’s lives improve faster than in Saniya, so what was the problem? Was the influence of the priests really so large that they could override people’s happiness with a single word?

“Responses have been mixed,” Fadelio said. “Many in the city didn’t care at first, but there are always some who believe in the stories, and it seems like the numbers are growing. It doesn’t take too many of those to make the rest of the citizens nervous. Once a few people are riled up, they spread the atmosphere and everything after that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“The police can’t do anything?” the king asked Quato. “I know they can’t arrest the priests because of their words, but they’re still creating a public disturbance, right? When I came through the city earlier, half the roads were blocked by them. If we catch them on public disturbance, we can’t hold them longer than a few days, but at least we should be able to limit their actions, right?”

“Unfortunately, King Corco, they are priests, as mentioned before. Even if the police force has grounds to arrest them, the citizens around them would not allow it. We might even cause violence with our actions. Not to mention, many of our officers wouldn’t dare hold the priests even if they committed more serious crimes. Our men are all Pacha adherents, after all.”

“Plus, most of our judges are still priests too,” Sumaci added with a sigh. “Even if the priests in the streets do break the law, and even if we do get to arrest them without our police or the citizens starting a rebellion, do we really want to trust our judges to give them a proper trial? They will just let their fellow priests go anyways. Legal means will not do us any good here. We’ll have to look for a different solution, something outside the box. You’re best at that stuff, so we were really hoping that you had an idea.”

Exhausted by the bombardment of information, Corco slumped back in his chair. How had his enemies managed to cause this big of a mess with such a small move? It was baffling.

“Every time I come back, it’s like the sky is about to fall on our heads,” he moaned.

“This time, it really may,” Ronnie said in a quiet tone, but in the silent room, it was impossible to miss.

“And what does that mean, oh cryptic master? Don’t tell me it gets worse.”

An annoyed Corco asked Ronnie, but the chemist just looked over to Fadelio to explain.

“Well, on the first day they arrived, the words of the priests didn’t actually have a great effect. Most people just ignored them,” Corco’s attendant explained. “After all, many people live very well in the city and don’t want to see a disturbance, not to mention that there are plenty of young people who have studied in our schools. They’re more realistic about things, so they wouldn’t believe the mysticism from the priests that easily.”

“But?”

“But on the night the priests arrived, there was a thunderstorm… and two lightning strikes hit the castle, in plain view of everyone.”

Everyone in the room looked dignified, even though they should have already known about this news before. In fact, Quato looked pale, and downright terrified.

“Is this truly the wrath of the heavens?” he mumbled as he stared at the pamphlet on the table, which only stoked Corco’s anger.

“Wrath of heaven my ass!” he shouted as he swept the paper off the table. “It’s the fucking lightning rod we installed on top of the castle. It’s the highest place in the city by far, with the best conductivity. Of course all the lightning is gonna hit there!”

“Well, no matter how we explain that to the people, most won’t believe us. Not in the current mood.” Sumaci sighed again. No doubt, she had already tried to explain the real cause of the lightning and had failed to reach anyone.

For the first time, Corco’s technological advantage had become a problem. How would he ever explain how electricity worked to a religious, uneducated citizen while a priest was constantly shouting propaganda in his ear?

Once again, he felt exhausted and slumped back into his chair. Although he really wanted to end the meeting and brainstorm ideas for solutions instead, they were still not done. They hadn’t even begun to talk about Mayu’s incoming army yet. This would be another long night for the King of the South.

Chapter 354 - A Round of Drinks

Although they had only addressed one of their two major problems so far, morale in the briefing was already low. While they contemplated their difficult position, everyone sat in thought. In the silence, Sumaci stood up and walked towards the bar in the corner of the room.

With everyone else watching on, the clanging of glass and ice rang through the room, as the queen prepared an old-fashioned with the rye whiskey the city had started to produce. It wasn’t her usual fare. Rather, the kind of drink her husband would enjoy.

“Oh, thank you for that,” Corco said. “I guess we could all use a drink right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want one too?”

Sumaci half-turned towards Corco and took a sip of her liquor. The playful smile on her face together with her casual tone caused some chuckles in the room.

“Yes, very funny, very annoying.”

Although Corco played the role of annoyed husband, he was glad that Sumaci had managed to break the tension in the room. Thus, the meeting was on a short break until everyone had a drink in front of them. With their spirits renewed and some liquor to dull the pain, the king decided to continue the briefing.

“Okay, enough for now about the depressing priest shit,” Corco concluded their previous topic. “We can’t come up with a proper solution anyways, not until we have a full picture. So let’s move on to the next issue.”

He looked at Fadelio and asked, “Is there anything else you need to add on your end? Because if not, I’ll have to inform everyone about Mayu’s goals, and how they play into what’s happening in the city right now.”

“I would still have to sum up some more issues in the city, like the increased crime rates,” Fadelio replied, “but compared to everything else, those problems are minor. We can take care of them later, after we all have a complete picture.”

“Right, so it’s my turn then.” Corco clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, even though all eyes were on him already. “While you were struggling here, I was dealing with House Ogulno. You should know why, right?”

“Yes, we received the message,” Fadelio said.

“Right, so I was out to catch Ogulno back home, since I was getting tired of his shit. And who do you think shows up to defend his precious uncle?”

“I’ll tell you,” Corco said before anyone could even try to guess. The guess would have been way too easy anyways. “It’s Mayu, appearing out of nowhere, together with an army of about two thousand warriors.”

“That’s impossible! How did he raise that many men without our notice!?” Tama stood up in shock. If Atau hadn’t been quick with his hands, her drink would have spilled all over the expensive carpet.

“Well, he didn’t raise them alone, that’s for sure,” Corco said and took a sip from his own glass. The alcohol was smooth and cool, a mood he hoped to project to his staff as well.

“So he was representing other lords besides himself,” Sumaci mused. “In that case, they can all chip in a few men and come up with a rather large number.”

“That’s exactly it! Ten points to Gryffindor! He is traveling under the flags of the southern lords, tasked to represent them.”

After Corco’s revelation, everyone was stunned into silence again. The king continued to enjoy his drink while the others gathered themselves.

“Wait, all of them?” Fadelio was the first to snap out of the confusion.

“Nah, nothing that extreme. If we count Ogulno and Mayu himself, he ‘only’ has ten estates under his belt.”

“That’s… still way too many. How can there be this many traitors?” Sumaci asked in a low voice repressed from shock.

Since she had only been a fringe figure during the succession war, she had never really seen Medalan lords fight each other. Maybe the last few years of relative harmony between the southern lords had given her the false impression that friendly cooperation was normal for them. Now, she would finally realize just how fickle and selfish the nobles of their kingdom were.

“Well, the benefits he offers are are good. That’s about all they need.” Corco shrugged as if he wasn’t fuming inside as well.

Although he knew that these people were easily bought, the southern lords still had made a fortune under his leadership. Not to mention all the Saniya soldiers who had died protecting the southern kingdom from foreign invasion over the last few years. All the lords of the south owed Corco a great debt, so their betrayal was especially painful.

“As their representative, Mayu’s asking us to hand over the recipe for the fertilizer to the southern lords, and to give them supervisory power over all our other industries,” Corco continued in a calm tone, despite his own anger.

“Oh, he can fuck right off!” Atau shouted. This time, it was Tama’s turn to hold his drink.

“See, that’s what I said, but he tells me that he wants to raise an army if we don’t retreat. What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“Then we’ll just fight them if he wants to die so bad!” Atau insisted.

“Another war? Against our own people?” Fadelio asked before Corco could. There was a frown on his face, and he hadn’t touched his own drink even once.

“Yeah, if we fight now, it’ll be bloody, and nasty,” the king added to Fadelio’s concerns. “Even if we win, we can forget about peacefully taking over the estates of the losing lords like we planned. For most of the locals there, we would be looking like invaders, not liberators. Not to mention that there’s no guarantee we’d win the war in the first place. There’s plenty of enemies to go around.”

“So who are our allies?” As usual, Sumaci asked the most important question. “Since only nine of the lords are siding with Mayu, surely at least a few of them would stick with us as well, right?”

“There should be. We’ll need any sort of help we can get, so we should contact all the remaining lords who aren’t part of Mayu’s group already.”

Corco pulled out a piece of paper and began to write down the names of their potential allies.

“First, I’m sure Lord Macuy is a dead set ally of ours,” he explained. “House Macuy used to essentially be servants under House Ogulno. But a couple years ago, their lord used Ogulno’s weakness to align himself with us and get rid of Kapra’s influence. I’m sure my uncle hasn’t forgotten about that. Plus, Macuy’s Utusku territory is not only right north of the Ogulno estate, he’s also on the eastern front. So he will need our protection from both Kapra and the Arcavians. If he wants to survive the war, he needs our protection. He’s about as safe of an ally as we can get, I’d say.”

“It would still be better to remain careful and properly probe his intentions,” Tama said. “There is no reason to take any unnecessary risks.”

In response, Corco nodded.

“True. You can do that stuff at your own discretion, just send me reports with the results later. There’s also Lord Huaman of House Queru. He’s been one of our first allies in the south, and his flag wasn’t with Mayu’s army either.”

“That’s a bit of a surprise,” Atau said as his eyes checked the map in the corner of the room. “House Queru is all the way on the southern coast, with Puscanacra between him and us. Wouldn’t he be isolated and at the mercy of Governor Mayu if he insists to stick with us?”

“Lord Huaman is a man of great integrity and loyalty,” Fadelio replied. “I’m sure he’ll support us so long as he thinks that our cause is just.”

While Corco wouldn’t be as quick as his attendant to believe in honor and loyalty, he was inclined to agree this time. Huaman had been one of Corco’s first allies in the south, even though back then, there was no large benefit for him to do so. In general, the king judged Huaman to be someone who valued long-term alliances, so he was at least 90% sure that they could count on his troops.

“Beyond that, there are also House Llasto’s Rufalasta south of Port Ulta and House Makipura’s Tacicir estate north of Qarasi Castle in the Narrows,” the king continued. “Both estates are isolated from the rest of the kingdom and on the front lines. Both will need our help if they want to survive the war, since both are targeted by enemies across their borders. So they’ll know who to support. That should be it as far as guaranteed allies go.”

“Sp only four names.” Sumaci frowned as she looked over at Corco’s list. “That leaves another seven estates undecided, right?”

“Six,” Fadelio corrected her. “We obviously can’t count Port Ulta on our side.”

“The allegiance of the last six lords will be a lot harder to read, I think,” Corco said. On the way here, he already had plenty of time to think about their position. “They could throw their support either way, though the fact that they haven’t joined Mayu yet bodes well. I think we’ll be able to keep them at least neutral in a war. I mean, Mayu and his gang have taken a very extreme attitude this time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they considered anyone who doesn’t align with them an enemy by default. So I’m sure we’ll be able to win at least a few more of the neutrals over.”

Again, everyone returned to silence, as Corco looked over the names of undecided estates he had just written down.

“To be honest, the most surprising among the neutral names is Cashan,” he said. “No idea what to do with them.”

“The little pirate lord Villca isn’t siding with Mayu?” Atau asked. “Now there’s a shock.”

“That’s right. Considering our mixed relationship with them, I expected them to go along with Mayu, but it seems like they’re smarter than the rest,” Corco replied.

“This could be our chance!” Fadelio realized as he looked at the map again. “If we can win them over, their two allied estates east of here will join us as well. That would be three more estates fighting for us. Once we count the Chawir marshes as an estate as well, that would give us eight estates to Mayu’s ten. Those already sound like manageable odds.”

“What about our commoner armies then?” Sumaci asked, her own drink gripped tight in her hands. “I thought the number of trained troops is going up quickly? Surely, Saniya’s troops cannot be measured up by the power of a single estate.”

“That would be correct.” Fadelio said. “As our population has grown over the years, we’ve continued to increase the size of our military to maintain close to a 10% ratio of active soldiers. Not only Saniya has been growing in size, but Harkay town and even the surrounding villages have expanded in size as we reclaim and cultivate more and more land. By now, our army has a size of around 30,000 soldiers total, which is enough to match at least five or six average southern estates. Those calculations don’t include the advantage we have in weaponry either. In large scale battles, that advantage of firearms is far more pronounced, so our advantage grows even further.”

“Then why the long debate!?” An excited Tama asked. “We just fight them as soon as possibl. We wipe out the armies of the rebellious lords before they are fully mobilized, so the war won’t affect the people. Then, we force the lords into a peace contract that lets us go back to how things were before, minus some powers and rights for the rebels.”

Corco could only sigh at Tama’s gordian knot-type solution.

“Your enthusiasm is commendable, Lady Tamaya, and I’d love to just go out and beat all the rebels to death as well… But as usual, it’s not that simple. You’re forgetting that these ten estates are not the only enemies we have. There’s still two armies waiting for a chance to invade on our northern borders, both Pacha and House Ichilia. And then there’s the Arcavians in the east as well. All of them are ready to pounce as soon as we’re busy with something else, like, say, a civil war.”

“It’s all planned out well in advance,” Fadelio realized. “All of them have coordinated to take us down.”

“You wanna hear the worst part?” Atau asked as he swung around the drink in his hand. Alcohol spilled over the brim and landed on the carpet. No wonder, since this was already his second drink in a short time. However, as an experienced drinker, he was still sharp enough to make his point. “Even if there is a war, there is no guarantee our soldiers would properly fight anyways. You’ve seen how things are in the city. All the people got confused by those damn priests. Well, turns out, soldiers are people too. If we fight now, I guarantee you that we won’t fight with good morale… And in the worst case, we’d have to deal with mass-defections too.”

“That’s what it comes down to,” Corco concluded. He had come to a similar result in his head, but hearing it all laid out by someone else made the danger feel even more real. “Powerful outside threats, who are waiting until our inside threats have ground us down enough that we become easy pickings. We managed to resolve our fight in the Verduic Sea early, which is our biggest advantage, but I don’t think it’s enough. Unless we can solve the internal problems all at once before the northerners and Arcavians can react, there’s a real chance of total destruction this time.”

“So what, do we send assassins and try to catch all the conspirators at once? Sow some chaos in the enemy estates, make them careful, and win enough time to stabilize the situation at home.”

Corco didn’t even have to look over to know that this was another one of Tama’s plans.

“That may have been an option before, but now all the lords who oppose us have left Saniya,” Sumaci said before Corco could. “Are we meant to assassinate them in their army camps? Even if you manage to sneak a couple ghosts in there, we absolutely won’t catch all of them. Once we attack the lords directly, we just turn our standoff into a proper war, which is exactly what we don’t want.”

“I might be repeating myself, but there won’t be any killing,” Corco added. “It’s poor form, not to mention counterproductive. For now, we need to contact all the neutral lords. I’m willing to make some concessions, so long as we can increase the number of our allies. Let’s stall for time until we’ve done so… and hopefully, that will also give us enough room to find a better solution to our problem. Because if we don’t, we can only go to war.”

By now, Corco had begun to formulate a solution to their problems in his head, even though he really didn’t like the plan he had come up with.

“So what does stalling for time mean, exactly?” Fadelio asked, ready to write down his master’s orders.

“It means giving in, of course,” Corco said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “We’ll give Mayu and his gang exactly what they want.”

“What!?”

“That’s ridiculous! We’re just giving up like this!?”

As expected, the room exploded after Corco offered his solution. However, the king remained calm.

“If we don’t give in before they assemble their army, they attack us.” He shrugged. “And then we can’t stall for time anyways. Plus, it’s not like I’m willing to just let them do whatever they want.”

Corco turned towards Ronnie, who had been silently watching the meeting all this time while drinking hos ostentatious, bright red cocktail.

“Great master Hieronymus, if those lords send people into your lab, how long can you stall them before they can steal our technology? Without breaking any laws, if you can.”

With just a little hint, Ronnie understood Corco straight away. That much was obvious from his sly grin.

“In the chemistry lab, I can stall them however long I want. Don’t worry, oh noblest of kings. I know what to do. The other manufactories might be a problem though.”

“Wherever we can’t stop them, we can just close down for a while. Fire hazards, spies, unsafe working conditions, there are plenty of excuses to temporarily deny them entry,” Brym added. “With our current finances, we can probably close down all our manufactories until the end of winter. By then, we really need to get our economy going again, or we’ll run out of money to pay our soldiers.”

“And there it is. Enough time bought to do something productive with.” As he addressed the whole room, Corco spread his arms. After, he turned to Brym again. “Though we should throw them a bone to make sure they don’t throw a fit first. It’s fine if they get a few minor bits of technology, so long as they don’t take away anything important. I won’t have my shiny, new industry gutted by them. In the meantime, I’ll look for a solution from the side of the Pacha priests.”

“And how will that work?” Atau asked. “They don’t seem like they’re willing to cooperate any more. And they’ve wasted all the good faith we may have had in them before.”

While the religious Corco didn’t want to admit it, he had to agree. After the sudden verbal attack from the priests, there was no more trust between the parties. In fact, the priests may as well have declared war on the southern kingdom at this point. Still, he had to do his due diligence and at least try to reconcile.

“Well… they’re only here because of a few disagreements, right?” he said, while counting the disagreements on his fingers. “The mercury in the thermometers, firing some priest judges, ordering the map makers to depict actual geography, rather than come up with fantasy maps… We can’t really move on most positions, but we can compromise in one or two areas. Plus, we can compensate them in other ways too. At least there’s a chance that the priests are just fishing for benefits with their recent power move. Everyone should go prepare for the return of Mayu and his gang of bandits. Meanwhile, I’ll talk the priests into a compromise.”

“And what if they’re not willing to compromise?” Sumaci asked.

At the thought of his alternative plan, Corco’s brow furrowed deeply. He stared at the small rest of liquor in his glass, before he downed it all at once.

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” he said at last.

Hermit's Notes: Ended up finishing this yesterday, but really didn't like the result, so I had to rework it all today. I think it's mostly fine now, though I'm not sure I'll get a second chapter done today. Def. tomorrow though.

Also, these next five or so chapters may be a bit frustrating, considering how passive the MC has to be... I'll try to make it entertaining, and I think the payoff will be more than worth it.

Chapter 355 - Two Masks

Another cloudy morning promised another dire day for Saniya. Before the sun had even come up, an army of messengers had already left the city walls and spread out on the highways all throughout the southern kingdom. Within two days, they would reach all estate capitals in the kingdom, and send Corco’s temporary concessions to Mayu and his supporters.

If Mayu wasn’t too stubborn, the messengers would interrupt his wartime preparations and prevent an immediate war. They would also win some much-needed time for Corco’s staff. With that time, they could improve their political position. On top of that, they could try to come up with better solutions to their many problems, before Mayu and his gang used their newly gained power to do irreversible damage to Saniya.

The most important part to this dance on a knife’s edge was Corco, who, first thing in the morning, prepared to meet with the representative for the Pacha priests in Saniya. All this time, Corco had dealt with the young priest Watachay, apprentice to the old Grand Reader on top of Mount Urquna. Thus, he was greatly surprised when another figure entered his study instead, though it was one he was also quite familiar with.

Over the past few years, Watayi had been one of the priests Corco had hired to map out his kingdom for him. He had also been the one who had complained about the traveling folk and wanted to keep the disappearing Eternal Ice on the map. Later, Watayi had lost his job over these issues. Now, he stood in front of his former boss with a haughty look on his face.

In the presence of his king, the lower-ranked Watayi should have bowed, and he should have introduced himself and greeted his king first. However, the priest did nothing of the sort. Instead, he just walked right up to Corco’s desk and sat in a seat opposite the king. With a provocative look that reeked of a small man with a strong backing, he waited in silence, seemingly in no haste to start the conversation.

“Master Watayi. Please take a seat,” Corco said in a dry voice after he realized that they wouldn’t get anywhere by staring at each other. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“King Corcopaca. Why would this divine man’s appearance be a surprise?” The priest’s smile narrowed just the tiniest bit, as did his eyes. One sentence in, his negotiation partner was already unhappy. However, no matter how unreasonable Watayi was, Corco was eager for a proper deal with the Pacha priests. If they could mend their relationship, many of Saniya’s problems would disappear straight away. Thus, despite his better judgment, he tried to explain himself.

“Well, usually, Apprentice Watachay shows up when the priesthood wants to convey a message to me,” he said. “He’s easy to talk to, and we know each other well. I’m just wondering why he didn’t come here this time.”

Watayi’s sneer deepened, and his next words confirmed Corco’s worst fears.

“Watachay is no apprentice any longer. He has been cast out by the Grand Reader, and has thus been relieved of his previous duties and privileges as part of the Pacha priesthood.”

“I see.” Corco tried to hide the concern in his voice. “May I ask what he has done wrong to deserve such a harsh treatment?”

“King Corcopaca should know very well about Apprentice Watachay’s failings. After all, he has committed his crimes based on King Corcopaca’s insistence. Led astray by a misguided layman, the priest’s mind was poisoned. Once the poor soul tried to spread these lies to other priests, the Grand Reader had no choice but to cast him aside. King Corcopaca’s question is very inappropriate. As the main culprit, King should show more humility, and not pretend ignorance.”

Again, Corco was surprised to see Watayi so aggressive. Not long ago, the priest had been one of Corco’s subordinates, and had often pretended to be meek and submissive in front of him. Now, apparently with the full support of Medala’s priesthood, he had become an entirely different person. This attitude really gave the king a headache. If Watayi was already acting like this now, it really didn’t bode for the rest of their negotiations.

At the same time, Corco was worried about Watachay. The young priest had shared many enlightening conversation with the young king. Together, they had planned to steer the religious development of Medala in a positive direction. They had imagined a future in which the Pacha faith would become an important, positive force in Corco’s ideal kingdom.

Watachay’s sudden and unplanned disappearance could mean nothing good for his well-being. Of course, Corco also knew what Watayi was suggesting with his accusations. The last time he had met Watachay at his new university, the king had suggested that he try to establish a reformist force within the ranks of young Pacha priests.

Although Corco was deeply worried about the fate of someone he considered a friend, he knew that asking Watayi about it wouldn’t have any effect. If anything, his former subordinate would just use the chance to make some more vaguely threatening, snide remarks. Thus, he chose to move on for now and play the host. With any luck, Watayi’s attitude was nothing but the comeuppance of a disgruntled former employee, and not the official stance of all Pacha priests. If he satisfied his vanity a bit, maybe the priest would calm down.

“All right, in that case, I am happy to welcome Priest Watayi, and hope that we will have a positive cooperation,” he said, rather than complain. However, despite his diplomatic words and frank smile, the priest still didn’t look any more cooperative.

Instead, Watayi snorted and said, “Then this priest will hope that King Corcopaca will show more restraint and humility towards the priesthood in the future. Otherwise, the consequences are not what a mere king can bear.”

“Right.” What else was Corco supposed to say to that? “Anyways, can I offer you any refreshments? A cup of tea, or maybe some cake?”

“No need. This priest is busy with many matters, and does not expect this conversation to take up much of his time,” Watayi replied as he pretended to be in a sour mood. Though his acting was poor, and the raised corners of his lips told Corco that he was really enjoying this.

At this point, Corco realized that civility would get him nowhere here, so he simply gave up his previous approach. Watayi had clearly come here with a grudge, so no matter how many concessions the king made for the priest with a lower social standing, it would only inflate Watayi’s ego even more.

While he wasn’t really worried about the disgruntled Watayi, he was deeply troubled over the reason the high priests had sent someone like him to represent them. Maybe he had simply been picked because he had been working for Corco before and could thus bridge the gap between the two sides, but in that case, the high priests had made a poor choice.

“So what exactly brings you here then?” the king tried again to start a conversation, though his tone was now a lot less friendly.

“This priest has simply come to bring a warning to King, a warning that has also been extended to all people in this city doomed to damnation in the eternal abyss. Turn back now and repent your crimes against the Divines, or face their wrath.”

You’re trying really hard to make me facepalm.

Despite the priest’s theatrical nonsense, Corco was still willing to play nice, though Watayi was really taxing his patience by now.

“I understand your concern,” he lied. “And I also understand the good intentions of the priests. Everyone is very grateful for the effort the Pacha priesthood has put into saving Saniya. Not once in my life have I seen so many priests in one place as I have on my streets these days. There weren’t even that many priests in Arguna during the Succession War.”

For once, Corco tried to be subtle, rather than direct. Not only had he hinted at the obviously over the top attack the priests were launching on his city, his mention of Arguna also hinted at more malicious intentions. During the Succession War, the Pacha priests had been eager to gain political power within the Silver Palace, which had almost cost them everything by supporting Pachacutec’s group.

After all, Pacha’s father Caelestis and his ancestor Viribus had long planned to remove the Pacha faith from the city and replace it with another, one more willing to play along with their megalomaniac games. Thus, Corco’s mention of Arguna was both an objection to the ambitions of the priests, as well as a warning about their recent alignment with his uncle Pachacutec. However, if Watayi understood Corco’s complaint, he certainly didn’t show it.

“Yes, the high priests are greatly concerned about Saniya,” he simply said. “By itself, the fact that more Pacha priests have traveled to Saniya than to Arguna should show King how dire the situation is.”

I understand,” Corco repeated, now already frowning. “As king, I am responsible for the well-being of my people, and want to do whatever I can to ensure their continued prosperity and happiness. However, I am not responsible for the well-being of their souls. I have listened to the priests of the street, but I don’t understand their problem. All their complaints seem to be about spiritual issues, all things that I am not responsible for. What am I supposed to do to save the souls of the people in the city? That’s your job, right? Or am I supposed to step into your field and do your work for you?”

“If King does not understand, he should have listened better,” Watayi said with the same dismissive tone he had used the whole time.

How the fuck do I do that, you dumb fuck? Open my ears more? I can’t do more than listen!

Again, Corco tried to calm down. He thought back to his childhood, when his Pacha faith had given him solace through lonely days in the palace. He also thought to the years after he had gained his new knowledge, which had challenged his faith so much, and how he had finally found an answer to his religious questions that he could live with.

He remembered that not all priests were like the one in front of him. Most of them simply wanted to help people find meaning and purpose in their lives, or provide solace for the hopeless. Somehow, helped by his thoughts, Corco managed to not explode in Watayi’s face. Somehow, he managed to pretend for a while longer.

“Very true,” he lied again. “However, this king is slow of mind. If Priest Watayi could point this king in the right direction and point out his failings, there would be a chance for reconciliation, would there not?”

“Reconciliation? That is impossible,” Watayi said, as his sneer turned into a nasty grin. “There will only be submission. For you, King Corcopaca, there is only one path to go, only one way to save your precious city. King Corcopaca needs to travel to Arguna, and step atop the Moonlight Ziggurat, where the high priests will be awaiting you. There, you will bow and kneel. In front of the priests and nobles of Medala, you will apologize for your failings as a Pacha adherent, as a king, and as a son. From now on, your staff of advisors will contain priests appointed by the Pachayawna, who will monitor your actions and guarantee that no more sinful behavior can occur under your rule.”

“Don’t fuck with me!” Finally, Corco’s mask fell and his real self burst out. “What, just because you had a nasty breakup, you’ve come back to take revenge on your old boss? I’ve met the Pachayawna. I’ve met most high priests. They’re not stupid enough to suggest shit like that. I know only one priest dumb enough to think this nasty brand of blackmail will work, and that is you. Okay, good. You’ve had your fun, and you managed to make me angry. Are we done now with the games? We both know I will never agree to this crap, so how about you cut the bullshit and tell me what the priests really want, so we can try to find some common ground.”

“Hahahaah!”

Up on his high horse, the priest laughed like a madman. Rather than get angry at the insults, which was what Corco had expected, he bent back and forth as he howled in laughter. Clearly, he was over the moon that their positions were finally reversed, and the power was going to his head.

“King Corcopaca, there is no common ground. Do not believe that you stand above others just because of a few shallow wins on the battlefield. What you want, even what the high priests want, does not matter any more. I am the man in charge of negotiations! My word is the will of the Divines! Do not believe there will be any progress made today. I have not come here to talk! I have come here for only one purpose. I will watch you suffer, as you witness the destruction of your rotten city! Your people will see your evil, and they will tear you apart as I watch on! You should have never offended me! This is the result! How dare you force a holy man like me to work for you, a mere king! How dare you force me to work with nonbelievers, as equals! How dare you not respect me! This is what you get! Now squirm and watch your kingdom crumble!”

Finally, both men had dropped their masks.

Hermit's Notes: Bit late today, but I've also managed to get the rough draft for the next chapter done. If everything goes perfectly, there might actually be two chapters tomorrow. No promises though.

Chapter 356 - War For the City's Soul

A deep sigh escaped Corco as he watched Watayi lose his mind. Spittle flew from his mouth and the fire of madness burned in his eyes. This was a bit over the top, wasn’t it?

Had this guy actually suffered this much when he had been Corco’s subordinate? And if he was this obvious now, how did he manage to hide it from the high priests? He didn’t look like a good actor. When the high priests had picked their representative for these talks, surely they wouldn’t have failed to see this person’s state of mind, would they?

Maybe, Watayi’s appointment wasn’t an accident like Corco had thought earlier. Maybe the high priests had sent this one on purpose, with the express goal of destroying what little relationship there was left between Saniya and the priesthood.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Not every one of the priests would be convinced that giving up on Corco’s southern kingdom was the right way to go. After all, their alternative was Pacha’s central kingdom, a place that had cheated the priests in the past.

However, things would change if the talks between Corco and the priests came to a standstill. If, for example, the priests isent someone like Watayi, someone who would never negotiate or compromise with Corco. This way, they could say ‘we wanted to negotiate, but the king remained stubborn’ to silence the priests who wanted to reconcile in earnest. The entire reason Watayi had agreed to a meeting in the first place may have been to find an excuse to cut their ties.

Even now, despite all that, Corco was still willing to try and mend the relationship, on the off-chance he was wrong and the high-priests had simply sent the wrong person by accident. So at least he had to remain civil.

At this point however, there was clearly no more point in acting servile. He had thought that his humility would satisfy Watayi’s vanity and make talks easier, but it had only fueled the flames. Since nice words didn’t help, he would have to try with bad ones. Corco was much better with those anyways.

“You done laughing? Are you having fun?” Corco asked the madman once both had calmed down a bit. “At this point, I think it’s only fair to inform you that there are two minute keepers in the next room. From there, they can hear every word we’re saying. Everything we’ve said since you entered the room has been independently written down by two people, word for word. I’d also like to inform you that you’re not the only one in the world who knows that printing presses exist. By this evening, I can have this entire conversation printed out by the thousands, and delivered to every household in the city. Within a week, I can spread it to every city in the kingdom. I’ll even add a little notation, so everyone understands the exact context of our conversation and understands what kind of person you are. I wonder what your masters will think if they see what kind of a shoddy job you’ve done during negotiations.”

As Corco spoke, all the color drained out of the priest’s red face. Where he used to be filled with pride before, he was now hollow to his stomach.

“You would not dare!” he shouted, with a squeak of panic in his voice. “Who would dare oppose the high priests like this! Do you wish to be an enemy to the entire Pacha priesthood?”

“Try me.” Corco sneered. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m already your enemy. At least that’s how you’ve been acting. So it’s not like anything changes for me whether I do this or not. I just decided to fight back, that’s all. With disastrous consequences for you, if I might add. If the priests want to preserve their standing among the people, you know what they’ll have to do. ‘Priest Watayi is a lost soul. He does not represent the will of the Pacha priesthood’. That’s what they’ll say. They’ll drop you, with the same trash excuses they used to drop Watachay. Meanwhile, I’ll still be dealing with the same shit as before, but at least I won’t have to stare at your dumb grin any longer. Now, do you want to try how serious I am? Go ahead, keep laughing.”

This time, the priests didn’t even have weak threats to offer. After all, to many, King Corcopaca was still the madman who had almost killed his brother in a duel and had blatantly broken all kinds of rules and conventions during the Succession War. As far as the old elites of Medala were concerned, Corco could do anything if he was provoked. Now that Watayi’s backing was in danger of turning against him, the small-minded priest’s inflated ego shriveled up like a balloon with a hole in it.

“Okay, looks like you’re smarter than I thought,” Corco said. Now that he finally had control of the conversation, he calmed down again. “How about this: I can strike the problematic parts of our conversation from the transcripts. You know, the ones where you wanted to ruin our talks and destroy a Medalan city just because of a personal grudge. And in return, we try with some actual negotiations. It’s not like I’m blackmailing you, so don’t look at me like that. In fact, I’m willing to make some concessions to the priests. I think what I have to offer is good enough to talk about, so you better listen up.”

As soon as Watayi heard that Corco was still eager to negotiate, his back straightened again.

“In the end, won’t you bow your head either way? Nothing but big talk.” He sneered, while he took a handkerchief from within his robe’s sleeve to wipe away the cold sweat on his face. “Then go ahead, King. Talk about the concessions you are willing to make to the great priests.”

If anyone else had talked to Corco like that, he really would have just ended negotiations there and moved on to plan b. However, at this point, Watayi still represented the Pacha priests. Even though there were some priests the king didn’t like, he himself was still a believer in the Pacha faith. As a result, he was far more willing to cut them some slack.

And although Watayi’s attitude was still all wrong, at least now he was willing to listen to Corco’s offer. With everything he could bring to the table, the king was confident that he could satisfy the priesthood and end their siege of Saniya’s streets early.

“All right.” Corco leaned forward. Now that all the nonsense was cleared out of the way, it was finally time to get to the actual negotiations. “Let’s start with the easiest one: Quicksilver in thermometers. That’s one dispute that’s pretty easy to resolve. I won’t remove thermometers from classrooms, since I won’t deny my people education. But we’re already working on alternative substances to replace the quicksilver inside. It’s pretty poisonous after all, so we always wanted to minimize our use of quicksilver in the first place.”

“And how fast will that replacement be?” Before he spoke up, Watayi’s head shot around the room, probably in search for any possible issues with Corco’s offer.

“Hard to say. Right now, the city is in chaos, so everything is delayed.” The king shrugged. “Though if we can solve our internal problems early, we’d like to get the replacement done at some point in the next year. A one year deadline shouldn’t be too long, right? If you’re really still bothered, we can just not teach students what’s inside the thermometers. We’ll just classify it as a national secret until then, so there is no chance of quicksilver’s spiritual value being trivialized. Does that satisfy you?”

Again, Watayi looked around for reasons to refute Corco’s offer, but what more could he possibly ask for? Thus, he had to gnash his teeth and say, “There are no problems from the priesthood’s side.”

Although I’m sure you’d love to find some.

While Corco knew that the other points of contention wouldn’t be cleared up as smoothly as the first one one, he still had to try.

“Next, the judges,” he continued. “We can reinstate the judges that have been removed before, but they need to be properly sworn in to the laws of the kingdom. And they can no longer overstep their boundaries and judge against the letter of the law.”

This was really the best he could do on this issue. However, Watayi’s smile told Corco that he had been able to find the obvious problem this time.

“And what if the law interferes with the teachings of Pacha?” he asked.

“...they’ll have to keep with the letter of the law,” Corco repeated in response. “That’s the entire point of having written law. If the judges can’t uphold the law, the people have no idea what to do to avoid punishment. It defeats the purpose of having independent judges in the first place. If you’re so inclined, I’m willing to have a talk about certain laws you think are problematic from a religious perspective. You can submit them at any time, but don’t expect me to change everything just because you don’t like it. I won’t overthrow my entire legal system to make you happy.”

This was already a massive concession on Corco’s part. For the first time, he would let an outside power give input on the laws of his kingdom. However, to him, the priests still had a special status, so he would let them give some advice on his legislature, so long as they behaved. However, it seemed like his generosity would once again not be rewarded.

“Not good enough.” Watayi sneered. “The priests cannot be asked to speak judgment against the teachings of faith! For them, the laws of men can never hold precedent over the teachings of the Divines.”

Then they simply can’t be judges, you dumb fuck! This is impossible!

Of course, he didn’t say that part out loud.

“Okay, since we don’t see eye to eye on this issue, let’s try to make progress elsewhere. When it comes to teaching religion in schools, I’m willing to fund theology courses at my new universities. I’ll even let you send the teachers if you want to support me in this way. Teaching the people more about the Pacha faith should be desirable to you as well, right?”

“And what university will they be taught in?”

Again, Watayi found a problem. This time, Corco had anticipated the issue, since Watachay had already warned him about it before. However, this time, he was far less eager to give in.

“The vocational one, of course,” he said after some pause. “Don’t ask for things that are impossible.”

No matter what, he wouldn’t compromise his entire educational system to make the priests happy. The king’s emphasis on education should have also been known to the high priests, so he thought they may have been willing to take a step back in this area to advance elsewhere. However, once again, he had underestimated the greed of the priesthood, and the shamelessness of Watayi.

“Hah, as if the noble priests could be compared to mere craftsmen!” he shouted with his nose in the sky. “How dare you compare the great priests to carpenters and blacksmiths.”

“There won’t be a course on blacksmithing at my university. At most, we’ll offer a course in engineering or materials science. Physicians are also gonna study there. Don’t tell me you think your status is higher than that of a master of medicine.”

“Blasphemy!” the arrogant priest shouted back. “Surely, the mysteries of the stars are more important than a cough!”

Before Corco could get annoyed by another faked outburst from Watayi, he noticed something else in his words. He didn’t want to believe it, but had to confirm his worst suspicions.

“Wait a second, you don’t think you’ll be teaching astronomy in those theology classes, right?” he asked, fearing the answer.

“Of course they will.” Watayi said with a look of triumph. “Not only that, there will be no teaching of the stars outside of the courses held by the Pacha priests.”

“Is that supposed to be an order?” Corco shot back.

Finally, Watayi had been successful in making Corco angry again. If this was how the priests wanted to play, then he’d just have to forget about his respect for them.

“We’ll be teaching astronomy in SoHCahToa University, and we’ll be teaching it based on the scientific method,” he said in an icy tone. “That’ll happen, whether you like it or not, and I will never move on this point. And if your priests teach something in your theology courses that goes beyond their field, or worse: Something that contradicts our astronomy courses, I’ll throw them out and ban them from teaching. Is that understood?”

“The high priests will never agree to these conditions, and neither will I.”

Since they weren’t getting anywhere like this, Corco was willing to try one final time. In a final attempt to come to a consensus, he would take out the biggest concession he had prepared for these talks. Maybe if the priests saw concrete benefits in the form of gold and silver, there was still a chance to turn things around.

“All right. How about this: In return for letting me teach astronomy at the university, I’ll take out 100,000 Sila to build better, more modern observatories in sites of pilgrimage all over Medala. This way, we can study the stars together, in cooperation.”

Confronted with wealth only the richest of Medala’s lords would ever come in contact with, Watayi’s body stiffened. However, much to Corco’s disappointment, the priest’s greed only ruled him for a few seconds, before he swallowed heavily and remembered his hatred towards the king.

“That is not good enough,” Watayi said. “Study of the stars is the exclusive domain of the Pacha priesthood. Once mortals meddle in this power, there can only be catastrophic consequences.”

“Again, I’ll teach astronomy at my university, whether you like it or not,” Corco replied. “If you’re fishing for more benefits, you’ll be disappointed. That’s all I can offer you. Take it or leave it.”

This was as far as he was willing to go. If all his generous offers still weren’t enough for the priests, then he would know that they had never been interested in compromise in the first place. Unfortunately, Watayi’s next words took away his last bit of hope.

“Apparently, King is not interested in compromise. It seems the discussion can only end here.”

The priest stood up, a smug grin on his face once more. Finally, Corco exploded.

“It’s not a compromise if only one side moves, you dumb fuck!” He jumped up from his chair as well. “I’ve moved on every single position, and you only sit there with your dumb grin and say no to everything! What more do you fucking want!?”

“This rudeness will also be reported to the high priests.”

Watayi’s grin widened. Corco realized that his anger would only make the petty man happy, so he took a deep breath and calmed down again. All this time, he had wanted to find common ground with the priests, but even if they didn’t play along, he still had other options.

Only, those options weren’t something he wanted to fall back to, not unless he absolutely had to. After his alternate plans came to fruition, he knew that he would always be considered a heretic in the eyes of the Pacha priests. As a faithful believer, it was a fate he had wanted to avoid.

However, now the priests had left him with no option. They had forced Corco to choose between the integrity of his kingdom and his own private beliefs. In that case, his kingdom would always win out, every time. He made his choice in a second, and began to prepare his plan b.

“All right, good. Report it, little man,” he said. “I don’t need your help to control my city. When you go, you can take a message with you. From now on, the King of the South will retreat into his castle, to reflect on his faith. Also, during this year’s winter solstice, Saniya will organize the largest festival anyone in Medala has ever seen, in honor of the Divines, with its center right on Rapra square in front of Rapra Castle.”

“If you think those little tricks will be enough to prevent your destruction, you will have a rude awakening, lowly king,” the smug Watayi said before he left. “You better bow your head, mortal, and realize your weakness. Or see your lands destroyed.”

Unbeknownst to the priest, in Corco’s head, he was planning his counterattack, one that would prevent any meddling from the Pacha priests every again. Also unbeknownst to the priest, the downtrodden ex-apprentice Watachay, now in commoner clothes, was entering the city of Saniya this very moment.

“We’ll see about that,” Corco said towards Watayi’s back.

Despite the priest’s confidence, the war for Saniya’s soul was still far from over.

Chapter 357 - Chamber Music

The breathy bass of a large bamboo flute rang throughout the room. Then, above it danced the light sound of a violin. Life and melody entered the musical piece. Thus, the beautiful, simple music turned, anchored by the firm sound of the bass.

After several minutes of enjoyment, the piece ended, and Sawo looked back up from his music sheet. Next to him, his cousin Tawo also stopped his play and put down the flute. At the same time, their wives sitting in the front row began to clap, together with the rest of their family members.

On the lap of Sawo’s wive sat their little daughter. Her mother helped her with the clapping since she was still little, but from her expression she seemed to be having fun with it either way

“Thank you, thank you,” Sawo said as he half-bowed to the audience, a half-joking smile on his face.

“So, who is next?” Tawo asked as he walked back into the crowd. At the same time, his own wife handed him a glass of cognac. In the warm atmosphere of the room, everything felt cozy and warm. After years of searching for meaning, of rushing for an ambitious goal far away in the future, Sawo felt secure for the first time in his life.

With a drink of his own in his hand, a strong coffee liqueur, he watched his family members pick up their own instruments. As he steeped in the mood of the room, he sat down on one of the wide, upholstered chairs to enjoy the upcoming performance. Surrounded by expensive furniture sat on an invaluable rug that was thick enough to sleep on in the winter, he drank his prohibitively expensive liquor from a fancy glass of crystal. Here, he could enjoy all the luxury he could afford, much different from the outside world.

Out on the streets, the commoners of Saniya were still inescapably bound by the old laws of their ancestors. Commoners were not allowed to wear any bright colors, except simple green robes on special occasions. Commoners should not be too ostentatious. They should not wear expensive jewelry, or any form of silver anywhere on their bodies. Their heads should always be lowered, in case their presence annoyed someone of higher standing. Even more so, in the face of the nobles – all warriors and lords – they had to bow their heads, be respectful and careful, in hopes these superior people would just overlook them. Really, the list of informal rules the commoners had to follow to survive a day in Saniya was endless.

To be fair, the same was true anywhere in the Medala Empire. To Sawo however, these restrictions felt most severe for the commoners of Saniya. Although much of the city was more progressive compared to other parts of the empire, the old rules still applied.

Yet there were many commoners here who could count themselves as rich or powerful. Some were merchants, or bankers like Sawo himself. Others were craftsmen with outstanding skills and wealth. Others yet were military officers or officials in the castle, drawing power from their closeness to Saniya’s king.

Here, in this city, anyone could become someone of importance, so long as they had talent and commitment. This wasn’t possible anywhere else in Medala, where commoners were often heavily restricted in their actions, and the best doors for advancements were closed off to them in favor of the warrior class.

However, outside of work, the same problems still remained here, the same restrictions as elsewhere. Thus, all their wealth and power was worthless. They couldn’t show it off, or enjoy it in any meaningful way, at least not in any of the ways in which the nobles tended to enjoy theirs.

Thus compelled to creativity, the commoners of Saniya had developed their own customs over the past few years. They never met in lavish, public banquets like the nobles always did, since such excess would attract the attention of the nobles. They also didn’t stroll around in public and enjoy the roadside stalls, at least not in the same way the nobles did.

Instead, many commoners had retreated back into their homes. In here, they could enjoy the fruits of their labor as much as they wanted, and there would be no noble to disturb them. Compared to the decadence of the nobles, their meetings were smaller in scale, with a quieter, more homely atmosphere.

While many houses in Saniya looked simple from the outside, the inside decorations were often more lavish than a noble’s mansion. To many of the commoners, the luxury at home was an action of silent resistance, enjoying the things the nobles had prohibited them, out of sight, but without shame.

Within their own four walls, they were the lords and warriors. In here, there was nothing to fear. Since they couldn’t just invite large groups of dancers and musicians into their homes like the nobles did for their festivities, many commoners had learned to play the instruments themselves.

As they were so often, they had been inspired by the King of the South, who would sometimes perform simple pieces of music for the people of the city on public occasions. More recently, his wife had joined in as well, creating a beautiful duet sound that didn’t only ring during public events.

Sometimes around Rapra Castle, the nights of Saniya were filled with heavenly music, produced by their king and queen. It was an experience that had inspired many commoners to do the same.

Surely, nowhere else in the world did so many budding musicians exist. Their enthusiasm – as well as their limitations – had spawned an entire new branch of music, which the commoners had called chamber music, since they played their songs hidden in their chambers, surrounded by their wealth.

While Sawo listened to his wife’s performance, he realized that his cocktail was empty. The sophisticated drinks were another invention of King Corco’s that he was thankful for. While that little king was a bit full of himself, he did have some good ideas from time to time. Unfortunately, for Sawo, it was time to leave the cozy atmosphere. Although it sometimes felt like the inside of his home was cut off from the outside world, the real world would not wait for him.

“I am afraid I will have to go now,” Sawo said. As he stood up, he watched his wife’s happy profile while she played her music.

“Already?” Tawo next to him asked, looking up to his cousin with a puzzled expression. “Why not at least wait until they finish their performance?”

While Tawo spoke, Sawo was already putting on his dark gray outer robe. Although the drab color was suited for traveling the streets of Saniya, it was also padded with expensive fur imported from the Verdant Isles. As a result, it was warm enough to withstand the icy winter of southern Medala, and luxurious enough to fit the banker’s temperament.

“No, the workers will not wait for us.” Sawo shook his head. “With all the uncertainty in the city these days, we need to reassure them that everything is still normal for us. Otherwise, they will flee the city. And how will we open our manufactory on time then?”

He thought for a moment as he looked at the performance, before he continued.

“What’s more, I have heard them practice before. The piece they have prepared this time is very long. If I move quickly, I hope I can come back before they are done and applaud them at the end. As you should know, brother, I am no friend of goodbyes.”

“Well, in that case, save travels, brother. And be careful out there.”

One nod later, Sawo turned his back on the warm atmosphere of his family and left through the front door. Outside, he found a different world.

All the warmth was gone, replaced by the harsh frost of winter. The harmonious sounds of family life and music had made way for the howling of cold winds in the city streets. These days, the roads of Saniya were almost empty, in stark contrast to the excited mood of the past. As Sawo left his courtyard, he looked up at the gray sky and tightened the collar of his robe to prevent a shudder.

Suddenly, a shove from behind robbed the banker of his balance. Somehow, he managed to grab hold on his courtyard walls and stabilized before he stumbled to the ground. If he hadn’t been a former warriors and cultivator with the strength far beyond a mortal, Sawo would have, at best, landed in the icy mud of the street, and at worst, would have suffered a serious injury.

“Make way, commoner!” he heard from the one responsible for the shove. When he looked back up, he just saw the backs of a small group of warriors strolling away from him. They didn’t even have the decency to look him in the eyes as they insulted him. With their bright red robes, they walked the streets with confidence, as if they owned them.

At a safe distance from them, Sawo continued on his own path. Although he wanted to complain about their rudeness, he wouldn’t dare. Not in today’s Saniya.

A few days ago, Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, King of the South, had announced his retreat back into his castle. At the same time, he had also handed extensive powers to the other lords of the southern kingdom. Those powers included access to and control over the many lucrative royal manufactories of the city.

Eager to fill their coffers, the other lords had lost no time at all. Although they had left Saniya before to prepare for a civil war, they had all sent their warriors over the next day, to enforce their rights on their behalf. This infestation of brutal warriors on Saniya’s streets was the result of their actions. With hardly any push-back from the local police forces and not a word from the king, who was still hiding away in his religious retreat, the warriors began to rule the streets with an iron fist.

Sawo himself was a former noble, so he wasn’t surprised by their extreme action in the slightest. All these years under King Corco’s rule, these nobles had watched the commoners gain more and more power and control. All this time, they were helpless to stop it. It must have offended them to no end, how those lower people dared to strive for higher goals and exceed the standing of the nobles. Now that they finally had the chance to restore the old order, they took full advantage of it.

As if on cue, Sawo watched several warriors gang up on a commoner carrying a hand cart behind him. Curled up and in a corner, surrounded by the tall and sturdy warriors in leather armor, the small commoner would be lucky to survive the encounter. Whatever was in his cart was already theirs either way. His best bet was to protect his vitals and hope they got bored before they kicked him to death.

Finally, the chill Sawo had been fighting off came and ran up his spine. Although he felt horrible, there was nothing he could do, not in the current city. If he got involved in the fight, there would just be two more corpses in the street. Rather than get involved in a hopeless fight for justice, the banker fled into one of the side roads, before the new rulers of the city streets could spot him.

By now, the agents of the lords held total control over Saniya. Their greed wasn’t even limited to the royal manufactories any more. Even private workshops had been invaded by the warrior armies.

Just yesterday, Sawo’s own manufactory had blocked some warriors at the entrance, with much difficulty. They had been eager to charge in and loot them for any valuables, and they hadn’t cared that the workshop was private property. At least most of Sawo’s workers were his old subordinates, many of them cultivators themselves. Faced with superior strength, the warriors could only retreat while leaving behind harsh words.

Though of course, they would come back sooner or later, with larger numbers. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the warriors had plundered everything in this town.

Meanwhile, the king, who had pretended to care so much about Saniya’s people in the past, was nowhere to be seen. Worse yet, the priests had never stopped to preach of the city’s impending doom. No amount of piety and penance from the king had changed anything in their behavior, yet he had never appeared to speak up against the criminals who had set out to destroy his city.

Had King Corcopaca always been such a wimp? What had happened to the brave and sly man who had defeated the great City Lord Sawo in the struggle for power over Saniya in years past? If that man didn’t appear again, and soon, this would be the end of the city, of that Sawo was certain.

With deep worry, the banker in the dull gray robes rushed through the side alleys of the city, to avoid the eyes of the warriors on the way to his manufactory. Maybe, he hoped, it would still be his by the time he arrived. Maybe, he wished, their brave king would return, to save them all.

Hermit's Notes: Sorry about that, chapters came a bit late today. I have a second chapter half-finished so far. I'll try to go a bit longer today and finish in a couple hours... if not, I'll post it early tomorrow.

Chapter 358 - Support

Inside Rapra Castle, the King’s study was left abandoned for the first time in years. After Corco’s meeting with Priest Watayi, he had left his usual office and never returned.

Instead, the king had retreated deeper into the castle’s halls, to a courtyard far removed from the usual business of the southern kingdom’s political center. This place was isolated from the rest of the castle, because it was actually intended as a prison for high-ranking ‘guests’. As a result, the multiple rooms had all the comfort he could want. Most importantly, it had the peace and quiet he needed to reflect on his recent decisions.

Despite the bravado he had shown during his confrontation with Watayi, the conflict had sapped all enthusiasm out of the king. In fact, he didn’t feel like doing any work for the first time in a decade.

All his life, Corco had believed in the Divines, in the Pacha faith. After he had received his new knowledge, his faith had been tested. But back then, he had been far away from home, on a different continent, and far away from any Pacha priests. Back then, he had been given enough time and calm to reflect on his own beliefs. Thus, he could slowly come to conclusions that he was satisfied with.

This time, things were different. Unlike before, he hadn’t just quietly questioned his own faith by himself. Instead, those who questioned him were the high priests of the Pacha faith themselves, the highest authorities on matters of religion, at least in his eyes.

Although he had talked tough towards Watayi, and had been determined to go through with his alternative plans in a moment of anger, now he had calmed down. Now, he was questioning everything again, both his past decisions and his future path.

He had grown up with stories of the Divines. His own parents had told him to always listen to the priests, and now both of them were buried in the manner of the Pacha faith. Even years later, he would visit his mother’s beacon almost every day. This sort of long-term belief wouldn’t just go away simply because he determined that the right thing to do was to resist the priests.

Even worse, he knew that his next choice would, ultimately, be a lie. As a politician, sometimes, lies were unavoidable. This time however, Corco would lie to his own people, on a deeply fundamental issue that would change their lives forever. It was also a decision that could plunge them into a long and ugly war. Yet he found no alternative path, nothing less morally reprehensible that would still lead to his ideal kingdom.

Conflicted, Corco had chosen, for the first time, to run. For now, there wasn’t much to do anyways. Since he couldn’t change the overall situation until the winter solstice, he could afford a few days of decadence.

Unlike his usual habits, these days had been spent completely sober. Isolated from almost everyone, he had tried to find it in himself to give the final orders. Yet even now, he refused to make the step that would irreversibly change the Pacha faith forever, and would plunge the Medala Empire into a civil war.

Through the windows in his lonely room, he could see the clouds in the sky, same as they had been since he had come here. This year had been particularly warm again. There was a real chance they would celebrate the winter solstice in a rainstorm. A heavy storm during the festival would influence his plans greatly. Maybe this was something he could consider working on, rather than the more abstract question of his moral responsibility towards his people.

Just as he became trapped in his thoughts again, the door opened. In came Sumaci, the only person he had seen over the past few days.

“Here’s your dinner,” she said. At the same time, she left a metal cloche on the ornate table in the room.

“Thank you, Maci.”

He offered a shallow smile, but showed no other emotion beyond that. For a second, his wife stared at him as if she wanted to say something more about his poor state, but in the end she only sighed.

“By the way,” she said instead, “Your friend, the former apprentice priest, is still waiting for you in the castle. You sent for him two days ago already, so when will you finally talk to him?”

“I don’t think there’s any rush,” a stubborn Corco said while he sat down in front of his food. “There’s still time left to prepare.”

Again, Sumaci sighed and sat down next to her husband.

“The decision’s already been made, so why delay it any longer?” she asked. “You can’t always run from this.”

“I can totally run for a few more days though. And I fully intend to do so.”

Just as Corco put his hand on the cloche and wanted to lift it, Sumaci covered his hand with hers. When he turned to look at her, he saw her as serious as he had ever seen her.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’ve all humored you for the last three days. Can’t you at least listen for a bit?”

“Fine. Let’s talk.” Corco’s expression softened. “But I’m not sure what good that’ll do.”

“I just don’t understand it.” Now Sumaci sounded distressed. “You’ve always been so decisive, in everything you did. Why are you suddenly like this?”

“This is different,” he insisted. “My faith is important to me, you know that.”

“You always say that your family is important to you too,” she replied. “Still, back then, you fought your brother and your uncle for the throne. You even exposed your grandfather’s affair with your stepmother, aired your family’s dirty laundry out in the open, for the entire empire to see. And now, you’re fighting your cousin for power of the southern kingdom. You’ve fought your family, just like you need to fight the Pacha priests now. So what’s the difference?”

Although Corco understood that she was right on an intellectual level, he just couldn’t accept the truth in his heart. And to him, there was also a big difference between his previous actions and what he was trying to do now.

“This time, I’m prepared to cheat my own people, for my own purposes.”

“For their own good,” Sumaci insisted.

“And how would I know?” he shot back. “I can’t see into the future! I’m just some loser exile who got lucky and was handed an unfair advantage over everyone else. What right do I have to lie them into a war, and to change a key part of their lives like that?”

“You’re such a talented man, but somehow, you’re the only one who can never see it. Do you think I would marry someone just because they were lucky? Excuse my rudeness, teacher, but I have higher standards.”

Although Corco tired to laugh at her joke, he only managed a bitter smile.

“It’s just a tough decision. It feels like a step I can’t take back.”

“That goes for all steps, really. Come on, you’ve never been a wimp. Do you want to start now?” She playfully hit his shoulder, though it felt a bit forced. “You already know that the priests are corrupt. They need reform, that isn’t news to anyone. So why won’t you accept it? And the Pacha faith is changing either way, right? Isn’t that why the priests keep talking about these ‘great changes’ in their readings? The Pachayawna has tried to get involved in politics for years now. All this talk of great changes was only to prepare for this step. Seems like he has finally achieved his goal. According to our people in Arguna, your uncle Pacha has just appointed the Pachayawna as his chief advisor. It’s all the people in the capital are talking about these days.”

“Wait, is that true?”

Finally, Corco depression was replaced by another emotion. As so often for him, it was anger. Here he was, making an honest effort to reconcile with the priests, whom he had helped so much in the past. Yet none of them seemed to value his effort at all.

Instead, they once again sided with Pacha, who had betrayed them before. In the end, all it came down to for them was the expansion of their own power. Why was he so broken up about troubling their greedy organization?

“The priests have made their choice,” Sumaci continued. “There is no going back now. No matter what you want, there will be changes within the Pacha faith. Because the priests themselves want change. If we do nothing, it will only change in a direction that will harm everyone. That is, everyone except the high priests. Only if we act now can we help push them in a benign reaction that will benefit the people.”

Corco remembered the plans he had made with Watachay in the past. Back then, they had thought that they could slowly reform the Pacha priesthood from within, to turn them into a more open, more progressive organization that could tolerate the great changes that were about to hit all of Medala. By now, this was more than just an idle hope. No, if he wanted to minimize the deaths in the upcoming turmoils, it was a necessary change.

However, even though he knew all that, he still couldn’t make the final decision. In the end, he realized that what he was bound by most were not moral reservations, but his own personal feelings. There was still a trace of selfishness he just couldn’t shake.

“I just don’t wanna go down in history as the guy who destroyed our religion and lied his people into a civil war,” he frankly admitted. In response, Sumaci’s tender hand softly touched his cheek.

“Then you just have to achieve more greatness than anyone can deny. Easy, right?” She showed her usual, cheeky grin. “Not to mention, this is a burden you won’t have to carry alone. I’m here as well, and there is also still that lost priest waiting outside.”

“I understand. Thank you.” At once, Corco stood up and straightened his posture. “Please send in Watachay. I’m ready.”

However, his wife just looked at him for a second with sympathy.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to clean yourself up,” she said, before she left the room.

Confused, Corco looked over to a mirror in the corner. Only then did he realize that his days of isolation hadn’t been kind to his personal hygiene. Rather than send him the ex-priest straight away, Sumaci ended up bringing him some hot water and fresh clothes. Grateful for his wife’s thoughtfulness, Corco got himself cleaned up.

By the time Wataychay entered the room, the king was back to his old self, full of confidence and assured of his future path. As soon as the former apprentice priest had stepped inside and closed the door, he bowed deeply.

“King, please excuse this mortal’s intrusion,” he said.

“It’s alright,” Corco replied. “Please get up and have a seat. I’m glad to see that you’re fine.”

When Watachay raised his head again, Corco could see the bitter look on his face. It was the kind of expression the king had sported himself not too long ago.

“Okay, maybe not that fine,” he commented as the ex-priest sat down opposite the king.

“How could I be fine?” Watachay asked. “How could anyone be under the circumstances? When master threw me out, there were tears in my eyes. Yet now that I have walked the streets of Saniya, my own plight seems to matter little compared to the suffering of all Yaku. I thought, even if I lost all hope for myself, at least so long as Saniya stood strong, there was still hope for all true adherents of the Pacha faith. Yet now I see that all hope is lost.”

“Well, that’s a bit melodramatic.” Corco grinned. For once, he wasn’t the one being theatrical. “I’d say that this thing isn’t quite over yet.”

“But…” The priest tried to refute him, but caught himself. Over the next few seconds, understanding dawned on his face, until he finally said, “King Corcopaca, you have a plan!”

In response, the king’s grin got wider.

“I tend to, yes. Several in fact. But with you here, I’ll only use the best of the best. Fresh off the presses. You’ll like it, I can tell already.”

Although he had only just sat down, Watachay jumped up again. Light returned to his eyes as he rattled on like a waterfall, clearly excited.

“In that case, King, the people of the city need to be assured of their safety first!” he said, almost shouting in Corco’s face. “At the moment, they are rudderless, out at sea and without direction! They need the guidance of their king, to return them to the right shore! Or the snakes of the priesthood will continue to lead them into the reefs!”

“Again, there’s no need for the melodrama, not quite yet,” Corco said. He was glad to see that his ally was so enthusiastic again. They would need his enthusiasm soon. “It’s good that the priests are flinging mud at me, and it’s good that all the lords are acting out against the people of the city. Let them rampage for a few days, that’ll only play into our hands. The more they press me now, the more violent the reversal will be.”

“And when will that reversal be, King Corcopaca? And what can I do?” an excited Watachay asked, but then his enthusiasm visibly cooled. “Though as I am, I cannot provide much help, I am afraid. I am a mere private person now, no longer a man who can speak on behalf of the heavens.”

“I wouldn’t sell myself that short, if I were you,” Corco said. “And you won’t have to wait that long to be important again. The winter solstice festival is when it will all kick off, though we still need to add some tinder to make the fire burn nice and bright. Say, did you talk with other like-minded priests since our last conversation like you wanted?”

“Indeed I did,” Watachay replied. Though he still looked confused, he sat back down and gathered his thoughts for a second. “There are many who abhor the Pachayawna’s current course, stained by worldly greed. However, many of them are young and lack influence within the priesthood. They cannot oppose the high priests, not without just cause. Though If there was a just cause, they could speak out in righteousness, and gain the sympathy of the people. Only then could a reversal be possible.”

“Just cause? That much, we can provide for them. Give me a list of the priests, I’ll send them invitations to our festival. Until then, you should stay in the castle. We’ll meed to have some talks… and I guess I will have to invite a few more people to join us as well. I’ve wasted too much time already, and we still need to prepare a good speech for you. I’ll give you a large enough platform, a stage where the entirety of Medala will listen. All you need to do is provide them with your vision for the future of the Pacha faith. That’s all. Just some honest reflection and clear diction, that’ll be enough to return to the right path.”

The priest didn’t comment, despite Corco’s own melodrama. Instead, he nodded earnestly.

“I will do as asked,” he said. “However… who would truly listen to the words of an ordinary mortal like myself?”

As he had done before, Corco looked at the clouded sky again, though now his mood was much different from earlier. In fact, he could feel the faint excitement of anticipation. Once again, he was planning something big. This time, it would solve more than just a few of his problems.

“That, you don’t need to worry about,” he said. “I had a little diy project planned for a while now. If everything goes well, and we get it done until the festival, no one will have the choice to ignore you any more.”

Hermit's Notes: Yeah, so this way delayed a bit. All the chapters ended up sorta stuck together as I wrote them, so it took me a while to finish it all and to untangle them.

So I'll be posting them all at once now. Three more to follow.

Chapter 359 - Treasure Hunt

The heavy knocks on the door of Saniya’s royal chemistry lab made Drachimine’s knuckles hurt in the cold, but he didn’t care. This was a famous place, even in this city full of famous places. Here, the rumors said, was where Saniya’s greatest alchemists produced the city’s purple dye, as well as the vanillin powder, which was the newest delicacy popular in the noble circles.

Although he had failed to gain anything from previous workshops, they had been no more than tests for today. This time, he would do his absolute best. This time, he was determined to get results.

When his master Lord Rafun had sent him to Saniya with his orders, Drachimine had been astonished. Would he really gain access to Saniya’s secret workshops and all of their secret technologies this easily? Never had he expected the madman King Corcopaca to just give in like that.

It seemed like most of the lords agreed with his assessment and didn’t quite believe in the king’s quick capitulation. Since they were expecting some kind of trick, they were careful and didn’t return back to the city themselves. Instead, they had sent servants like Drachimine to do the plundering for them.

At the same time however, they had been eager to make use of their advantages so long as the weakness of King Corcopaca lasted. At first, Drachimine had thought that this would be the ideal chance to show himself in front of his master by offering him the great secrets of the city.

Not to mention, it would also be a chance to get rich himself. During their looting of Saniya’s workshops, there were bound to be many treasures they could take with them with various justifications. Not to mention, they could extort serious bribes from the poor commoner craftsmen in these workshops for overlooking their ‘transgressions’. Their roles as official ‘supervisors’ would make this easy work, or so he had thought.

However, reality had proven much different, and much crueler, compared to his imagination. It had been a full trium since he had started his work, but he hadn’t found any luck at any of the royal manufactories so far. All of them had denied him access for one reason or another. When he had forced his way inside once, the building had actually caught fire and he had only barely escaped with his life.

Since he had hit a solid wall at the royal manufactories so far, he could only expand his search and include the private workshops of the commoner craftsmen and merchants as well. Only in this way could he show his master some results. At least he had been far more lucky there and earned some good coin through looting and blackmail.

However, the pitiful wealth of those commoner craftsmen was surely nothing compared to the riches awaiting him in the purple-robed king’s workshops. Not to mention, Drachimine himself could get rich from raiding the commoners, but his master would punish him if he couldn’t return with some of Saniya’s secret technologies on top of that.

With dim thoughts on his future, Drachimine thought and thought, until finally, the door in front of him opened. What greeted him wasn’t the same picture he had seen in countless workshops before. Instead of the usual, stone-faced government official to present him with more problems, he saw a rare smiling face from one of the king’s people this time. At least he assumed that the foreigner was hiding a smile somewhere underneath his long beard.

“Welcome, visitor!” the bearded stranger in the long, white robe said in an enthusiastic tone. “What can this ordinary craftsman do to serve you?”

“Is this the royal chemistry laboratory? This official’s name is Drachimine di Rafun. He has been tasked by the southern kingdom’s League of Lords to oversee the goings-on in your workshop, an action which has been sanctioned by King Corcopaca Titu Pluritac. Here is the accreditation.”

Once his introduction was finished, Drachimine produced the signed and stamped piece of paper from within his robes. Usually, the people in these royal manufactories would read them in great detail, to search for the slightest faults and waste his time.

Often, even a smudge of ink or a creased corner were an excuse to question the authenticity of the certificate. One of them had even ‘accidentally’ burned his paper over an oil lamp. Drachimine had to wait three days until he received a replacement from his master, and in that time, he could only go after more commoner workshops. This time however, the bearded foreigner didn’t even take the accreditation.

“That will not be necessary,” the smiling foreigner said, much to Drachimine’s surprise. “I trust your great integrity, sire. My name is Hieronymus Bombasticus, royal chief chemist by trade. I assume sire wishes to begin his inspection right away?”

Confused by the man’s unexpected answer and strange energy, Drachimine returned a dull nod.

“In that case, please come inside, and follow me!” Hieronymus said and waved the supervisor into the workshop. “This is an exciting place, I’m sure sire will greatly enjoy his stay!”

“At least one worker knows his place,” Drachimine said with great satisfaction. “You will not try to cheat us like the others, will you, alchemist? Because it will not end well for you.”

Although physical threats hadn’t been too successful against the people in the royal workshops, Drachimine still used the chance to vent his frustrations. However, to his repeated surprise, the local alchemist looked rattled.

“Good gracious, no sir. I would never dare,” he said.

After a cold, but satisfied  snort, Drachimine entered the room. Behind him, several other warriors of the various lords’ houses followed as well. There really wasn’t a practical need to come here with half a dozen people, but the league of lords, as their masters had chosen to call themselves, was only a loose alliance based entirely on benefits.

Of course, none of the lords would trust the others alone with the sensitive secrets of Saniya. As a result, anyone with authority of ‘supervision’ like Drachimine had a tail of other warriors behind him to make sure he did his work like he was supposed to.

In any other workshop he had visited, the workers and officials would challenge the need for so many supervisors, but this time, the alchemist did not say a word when half a dozen people followed him inside. Maybe the foreigner was already intimidated by their presence, which would bode well for their mission this time.

Within such a compliant workshop, maybe Drachimine would be able to finally make an achievement that his master would be satisfied with. At least that was what he had thought.

However, he was soon disappointed. One look inside the laboratory and he realized that getting anything useful from this place wouldn’t be as easy as he had imagined. For one, he didn’t understand anything he was seeing.

Strange smells filled the air. Expensive glass containers were filled with unknown liquids. Tubes ran from one contained to another, for unknown purposes. In the corner, there was a large oven, comparable to the forges sometimes found in larger villages, and even in smaller smithies in estate capitals. Whatever these alchemists were doing here, Drachimine couldn’t make heads or tails of it on his own.

“Describe your work,” he ordered his guide while holding his nose to blot out the stenches.

“Magic, sire,” the alchemist replied with pride in his voice. Of course, this sort of answer was of no use to Drachimine.

“What is that supposed to mean?” the supervisor barked at the bearded alchemist. “Speak clearly.”

“Well, our mission is quite simple, really. It is nothing more than to discover and manipulate the basic building blocks of all matter. Though it is also nothing less,” the alchemist explained. While Drachimine didn’t understand a word, he kept quiet and hoped the foreigner would be easier to understand if he explained in more detail. That would turn out to be a false assumption.

“Thus, we identify and analyze various substances based on their properties, all through use of the scientific method,” the alchemist continued to explain as if it was obvious. “Some of our results are viable for practical applications, though many remain strictly theoretical. However, our main aim, as stated before, is to create a theoretical framework for future advancements in the field of chemistry, so economic viability is the least of our concerns. As a supervisor fit to oversee our work, Official Drachimine surely understands, correct?”

Of course he didn’t understand a thing. Still, he couldn’t just admit that. Not in front of the foreigner, and certainly not in front of his fellow warriors. Thus, he replied with a nod and a vague “Uhuh” to save face.

“As expected of a supervisor,” the alchemist continued with enthusiasm. “In that case, this servant’s explanation should be enough for a man of sire’s qualifications to understand, should it not?”

“Of course.”

Though he said so, he tried to hint at the foreigner with a look. However, in usual fashion for these outsiders, the man lacked all subtlety of the Yaku people and failed to notice the hint.

“Very good,” he rambled on instead. “Let us continue then. As sire can see here, this is the culmination of our work:”

The alchemist called Hieronymus pointed at a black slate of stone mounted on a wall. Drachimine had seen these used to cover roofs before, but he had never seen one continuous piece of this size. White paint covered the entire wall in strange markings.

Although Drachimine couldn’t read the weird new characters – called ‘new Yakua’ by the locals – that were so typical of Saniya, he could still tell that these weren’t full words. Instead, they seemed to be nothing but a cryptic arrangement of random letters and numbers.

“Here, we’re filling out our periodic table of elements,” the foreigner said, as if that explained anything. “Quite the monumental undertaking, as sire can surely imagine.”

Drachimine looked back at the other warriors, who seemed like they were holding in their laughter at his plight. Thus, he had no choice but to continue pretending.

“Yes, quite monumental.”

“Very good. This servant can tell that sire is an expert as well, as expected of a supervisor! It seems sire is also a man of science. In that case, sire will not need any further introductions. This servant would not want to appear rude by presuming that sire would be intellectually challenged by any of this servant’s work.”

“It is no presumption. Please continue.” Now almost desperate, Drachimine tried to retain his calm, while somehow trying to find out out what these people were really doing in here. However, the bearded alchemist wouldn’t do him the favor.

“Oh no, this servant would not wish to waste any more of sire’s valuable time.” Now, the foreigner had a frightened look on his face. “How could this servant carry such a burden? No, sire can sit back and simply oversee our work, as he has been tasked by the league of lords. Please make sure that everything is up to safety standards. We all put our greatest trust in Sire.”

With that, the friendly alchemist turned around and walked back towards his coworkers, who were waiting close by. What else could Drachimine say at this point? He didn’t want to look ignorant, and he expected that any more questions would be answered by another string of strange words he had never heard of before.

Rather than waste his time on futile questions, Drachimine was hoping that, maybe, he would understand a bit more if he watched the alchemists do their actual work. However, he only got more confused the longer he watched them.

“I think we should continue our experiments on the celluloacetate today,” the alchemist said to his fellow workers.

After that, they did actions that may as well have been magic from Drachimine’s perspective. At least that was how much of it he understood.

From time to time, they would look at strange instruments, mumble something, and then note down unreadable characters on pieces of paper, in the same new Yakua script that he couldn’t read. Sometimes, they would stare at strange pieces of glass. However, unlike the clear glass that Saniya had become famous for, these ones didn’t look impressive at all. Compared to clear glass, this material looked a bit grainy, and slightly opaque. In fact, the entire piece of glass warped everything behind it.

Whatever the alchemists meant to create with their experiments, it certainly wasn’t anything his master would be interested in. Even their own masters at home could make better glass than this.

Thus, Drachimine gave up on observing the alchemists and simply looked around the rest of the laboratory instead. After all, he had come here with a specific purpose. He wouldn’t need the locals to show him around. He could find some purple dye or vanillin powder by himself.

Chapter 360 - The Dangerous Life of a Treasure Hunter

A bit worried, Drachimine looked over to the alchemists again, but they were busy with work, seemingly lost in their own world. Like so many of these wise men, they seemed utterly disinterested in any real-life issues. Maybe they weren’t even aware that the balance of power had changed in the city outside. Surely, they wouldn’t notice if he went off to explore the workshop on his own.

Thus, he motioned to the rest of the warriors, who split up and search the large laboratory for their goals: Purple dye and vanillin powder. This workshop was quite a generous place considering how few people worked here, and it was also very open. On top of that, the chaos – and the fact that Drachimine couldn’t name half the things he saw – made it hard to find what he was looking for. Still, the mess couldn’t hide its treasures from his keen eyes.

After a while of investigation, he found a faint trace of purple color on the ground. Although it was only a smudge, it was enough to show him that someone had stained the ground here and had tried to wipe it off, without much luck. In fact, he managed to find an entire trail of faint residue, which he dutifully followed.

Soon, he reached a somewhat hidden section of the workshop that held the faint aroma of vanilla, and maybe a slight sour scent as well. It was distinctly different from the sharp smells in the rest of the workshop, and it was also hard to find without following the trail of purple. Maybe while the bearded alchemist had talked to them, someone else had tried to hide the real treasures in this place.

In fact, he soon found the object of his interest. The section he entered was almost empty, except for a large glass vat filled with a clear liquid, stored on a thick piece of cloth underneath a closed hood. As far as he could tell, the vanillin smell was coming from the vat itself. Although it looked like water at first, a strong vapor was escaping from the vat and was collected in the hood above. Maybe it was placed under the hood to collect the liquid’s aroma. After all, Saniya was producing vanilla-flavored products like soaps as well.

So far, the clues he had followed here didn’t confirm whether he was looking at an early stage of purple dye production or at the liquid form of the vanillin powder, but he was sure that it had to be one or the other.

That was a mystery he could easily solve with a bit of inspection. After all, he wasn’t a supervisor for nothing. Just as he was about to stretch out his hand towards the vat, a voice came from the distance.

“Official Drachimine, please do be careful with the Acetic Acid,” the nervous voice of the bearded alchemist called out from across the workshop. “It is very expensive, and not to be moved casually!”

Finally, the foreigner sounded nervous, just like Drachimine had expected him to act before. Wasn’t this man just trying to protect this liquid from his inspection? First, it had been hidden away in a corner like that, and now he was warned not to touch it. Clearly, this was something they hadn’t wanted him to find, so his determination only increased.

“This official is responsible for supervision!” he barked back. “This is none of your business.”

To find out what exactly he was dealing with, he bent underneath the hood and took a deep whiff of the liquid in the vat. He had expected the pleasant scent of vanillin, but only tasted flames. Before he could smell anything, his lungs felt like fire and robbed him of all other senses. A violent cough tried to expel the noxious gas from his body, but failed to do so.

He stumbled back to escape the danger, but his coughing fit drove his body down. A confused Drachimine tried to hold on and save his balance, but he only caught the glass vat. Thus he fell over, and the container with him. Its contents spilled all over the floor, which began to hiss and smoke in response. Some spilled on his hands as well, but Drachimine had no time to care about what damage it would do.

Until now, his cough was still going, and his eyes and face both felt numb, and as if they were melting away.

“Emergency!” someone shouted somewhere. “Get Official Drachimine some distilled water! He has come in contact with the acetic acid! Quick! Do you want to be executed for killing an official!?”

“I don’t care that it was an accident, or not your fault!” the same voice shouted after a mumbled response. “Bring the water!”

A hand touched his shoulder and helped Drachimine up, but in his current state, it was a scant reprieve from his pain. Even now, he was still wheezing for air. All he could see was the blurred face of the bearded alchemist, still with that hidden smile on his face.

“I warned you about the acid, sire,” he said. “Please be careful next time.”

About an hour after the first incident, Drachimine left the laboratory again, together with the other supervisors. Some of them had beet-red faces, itchy and irritated from strange gases and fluids. Others had singed robes and hair from the time they had watched the alchemists experiment with gunpowder.

None of them felt the cold around them, but all of them were shivering. Their scars would never heal, at least not the ones on their minds. What they had gone through in that room had been worse than any war they had ever been part of.

Worst of all, the alchemists could not be faulted at all. All accidents had happened due to their own decisions, often in defiance of the well-meaning warnings from the local workers. Thus, with no loot to take and nothing to criticize, the warriors decided to retreat for the day.

Broken in both body and spirit, Drachimine took his fellow warriors to return home without gains. Maybe there were still treasures hidden somewhere in that laboratory, but he would not risk his life to find them. Surely, somewhere in this large city, there had to be some easier workshop he could score big in. Even if there wasn’t, he just had to work a bit harder elsewhere to satisfy his master’s wishes. Anything would be better than another visit to the mad lab of Master Hieronymus.

__________________________

While warrior Drachimine was fighting his own courage within Saniya’s labs, his fellow warrior Qirao was lamenting his poor fortune on his way to Saniya’s medical research center.

Of course, he didn’t know about the fate of his colleagues yet. As far as he was concerned, he had drawn the short straw among the supervisors of the league of lords.

Over the past trium, the supervisors had tested out the limits of their newly gained powers. In the process, they had become more and more audacious over time, to see how much the King of the South and his forces would put up with before they pushed back. While they hadn’t achieved much since a lot of the city’s manufactories were closing down for one reason or another, there had been hardly any active resistance from the local forces.

As a result, the supervisors had decided that today would be the true start to their operations. Today, they would try to gain access to all the major workshops in Saniya.

Some had gone to the so-called ‘chemistry lab’, where they would learn the secrets of Saniya’s purple dye and vanillin production. Others would go to the city’s gigantic foundry to learn the methods of their supreme steel production. Others yet had traveled to the workshops that produced porcelain, cement, clear glass, or fertilizer. However, only he was nowhere near the wealth of the city.

While all other supervisors were about to enter the real treasure houses of Saniya, and about to make real coin, only Qirao alone was stuck looking after Saniya’s medical research center. Although from its name, it seemed as fancy as the chemistry lab, no one expected to find anything of value in this place.

As far as they knew, none of the city’s famous products were being made here. In truth, it was no more than a large courtyard which housed all of Rapra Castle’s private physicians.

However, Qirao’s master Ogulno had been feeling unwell recently. Since his master’s house physician could not find the source of his troubles, he had tasked Qirao to come here and take away one or two of Saniya’s excellent physicians. The king’s medical experts had all been brought over from the Chutwa Empire, so they were bound to be outstanding in their field.

Thus, Qirao had been sent to this place, despite its lack of obvious value. Although he wasn’t too happy about the thankless task, at least his work would be easy to accomplish. How would some gray-bearded commoner doctors resist him?

All he had to do was accuse one or two of them with some false charges and take them away for an ‘investigation’. Once they left the city, there was nothing the cowardly southern king could do to get them back.

Thus, he was filled with confidence as he walked up to the two guards who stood at attention outside the courtyard.

“This official’s name is supervisor Qirao di Ogulno,” he shouted with authority. “On order of the league of lords, this official has been sent to investigate the operations of this royal workshop. Open the door, and make way.”

Both guards just gave him a strange look for a few seconds, before they replied.

“Are you hurt, master?” one of them asked as his eyes checked Qirao up and down for injuries.

“If you’re unwell, you may want to go to one of the city’s clinics instead,” the other guard added. “The local physicians take turns taking care of the patients there. Rather… this is not the place a patient would want to go.”

“On order of the league of lords, this official demands entry into this workshop!” Qirao stepped forward and spoke with more force. “Do you dare deny me, lowly one!?”

In the last few days, Qirao had played out this same act many times. Usually, the guards would either be scared and obediently give in, or they would get angry, which would give the supervisor an excuse to use real force.

However, this time the reaction from the guards was unexpected. For a second time, they just stared at him in confusion, before they shared a look that Qirao couldn’t quite place.

“Fine, but we are not responsible if anything happens to you, official,” one of them said in the end, and opened the door. Although Qirao was a bit confused by their behavior, the results were just as he had expected.

Too easy. These commoners have no backbone, just like their king, he thought, as he stepped through the entrance without another word.

As soon as he entered, he felt like something was wrong. All he could see was an empty hallway, but the metallic stench of blood hung in the air, mixed with alcohol and other smells he couldn’t quite place.

Not a soul could be seen, but in the distance, Qirao thought he could hear faint screams. Or was that just his imagination? He really couldn’t tell, but the entire atmosphere of the hallway felt off, as if he had stepped into a different, more sinister world.

Why was the daylight in the hallway so dim? Why was there no one to greet him at the entrance? Where were all the people? His chest tightened, and his back felt wet and cold. He tried to clear his throat and took a few deep breaths to relieve his anxiety, but it helped little.

Either way, I only have to find one physician and drag him out.

The thought dampened the fear a bit. Thus, he sneaked ahead with renewed spirit, but more careful than before. When he had entered, his head had been held high, but now his spine was bent, ready to react to any danger that may be lurking.

Step by step, his tension rose again, although it had just been relieved. What kind of physician’s shop was this?

“Finally!”

The bellowing voice came from Qirao’s side and shocked him to his core. As the giant figure the voice belonged to shoved the door open with a violent energy, the supervisor jumped back in defense. Yet as soon as he saw the figure, he gave up all thoughts of a fight.

The being had its entire body covered with a red robe, but it wasn’t the noble red of the warriors. Rather, it was the dirty, wet red of fresh blood. Even the creature’s face was covered by a white mask sprinkled with red dots, like a butcher after a hard day of work. However, what sort of animal would be butchered in a place like this? Qirao could only think of one, and it shook him to his core.

In its hand, the beast carried a short weapon of shiny silver. Despite its length, it looked plenty sharp, more than enough to be a threat to any warrior, even more so in this tight corridor.

Terrified, Qirao made another step back, ready to retreat or fight for his life at any moment.

“What!? Speak up!” the monster demanded in its bellowing tone. “You’ve come just in time! I’ve just run out of bodies, you know? You’re here to bring the new specimen, right?”

Before Qirao had even registered the final sentence, he had already turned and run as fast as his legs could carry him. If his master wanted a physician, the warrior would never dare get one from here.

Whatever abyssal things were happening in this workshop, Qirao wanted no part of it, and he didn’t want his master to fall victim to the inhuman beasts in here. Without noticing the confusion on the butcher’s face, or the stifled laughs of the guards at the entrance, Qirao rushed away, never to return.

Hermit's notes: Yeah, these chapters may be dragging on a bit, but I thought they were fun, and give a better perspective on what's happening to all parties in this part of the story, so I stuck with this.

Chapter 361 - Switching Sides

For the first time in years, advisor Iyo saw hope. As he descended the stairs towards the archives of Rapra Castle, he gathered the courage for the big decision he was about to make. When he saw that only one unarmed official was keeping watch outside the archives, he let out a sigh of relief. As soon as Iyo appeared, the watchman stood up from behind his desk, to show his respect for the higher-ranking official.

“Official Iyo, hello,” the watchman said. “What brings you here? You know the archive can’t be accessed without permission.”

“Good day, official,” Iyo replied. As he spoke, he tried to keep his expression as steady as possible. “I have not come to visit the archives today. Instead, I have come to inform you that King Corcopaca requires your assistance.”

“Is that true?” the commoner asked in a suspicious tone.

This was one of the many young commoners who had become officials under King Corcopaca over the past five years. Most of them were locals from within the city, so they still held some amount of respect for the old high official Iyo. Cheating him wouldn’t be too hard.

“There is not a hair of deceit in this official’s words. Here are your orders.” Iyo held out the paper with the king’s seal that he had faked earlier. “Since this official is unaware of the king’s exact needs at this time, there is no telling whether these orders are urgent or not. Thus, please make your way to the king’s retreat post-hate.”

For a while, the servant read the orders in silence, but he couldn’t find anything wrong with them. Iyo himself had made sure they were up to standard.

“But… I can’t abandon my post without a replacement. What if someone comes here and wants to enter the archive?” the commoner asked in the end.

Of course, Iyo knew of the castle’s regulations and had planned for this response. Still, he pretended to think for a while, before he replied, “in that case, this official will lower himself and take up the post for a while. Now hurry, there is no time to lose. And this official’s time is valuable as well. Do not waste it.”

After a heavy nod that showed that the servant understood his new orders, he left his desk in front of Saniya’s archives and disappeared up the stairs. Now, Iyo was all alone.

There truly is no time to lose, he thought as he ignored the official’s desk and rushed past it, straight into the archives. He didn’t have much time before his lies would be exposed, so he had to try his best to find the targets of his operation quickly.

As he searched through the long rows of shelves within the archives, Iyo reflected on the past few years. Although his current actions were dangerous, he realized that this may be his last chance if he wanted to achieve something in this life.

In his original vision, this place, Rapra Castle, was supposed to be his stage, the setting for his great rise to fame, power and wealth. However, reality had hit him hard, again and again.

Back when Lord Sawo was still in charge of the city under orders of House Ichilia, Iyo had been one of the lord’s closest advisors. While Sawo had dreaming of a great future for himself, Iyo had worked hard to make it a reality. While the city lord had been out getting drunk with his incompetent band of warriors during another one of their endless banquets, the advisor had been stuck in this castle, doing all the important work to keep Saniya from falling apart.

However, his efforts had never been rewarded. Rather, Sawo had always shown scorn for the hard-working official. Maybe he felt threatened by Iyo’s talents, or maybe he had never forgotten that Iyo had advised against Sawo’s arrogant attempt to establish himself as one of Medala’s lords, against the wishes of their old master Divitius Ichilia. Either way, Iyo had seen no future with the self-important warrior.

Thus, as soon as he saw the opportunity, he had chosen to jump ship. His chance had come when the Ancestral Hall in Arguna had split up the Medala Empire after the death of the last emperor. The resulting compromise established a new Kingdom of the South, and with it a new lord of Saniya.

As soon as the new king appeared, Iyo chose to side with the legitimate ruler of the lands, and against the upstart Sawo. His choice had proven wise. Sawo’s embarrassing excuse for troops were crushed by the king’s elite mercenaries with almost no resistance. Thus, the city had fallen into the hands of King Corco, and soon the Chawir marshes followed.

However, despite his obvious abilities and dedication, Iyo had once again not received the appreciation he deserved. At first, he had still been optimistic, and his role in the castle had still been important. Because he was the only proper official who was familiar with the day-to-day operations of Saniya and the Chawir marshes, King Corco had to rely on his expertise to quickly get acquainted with his new domain.

Yet soon, the king’s own officials had learned everything he had to teach about the lands, and Iyo’s value diminished. Back then, King Corco hadn’t even tried to use him properly. How was this fair to him, who had given up his position in House Ichilia to support the king?

Worse yet, the city changed more and more as the years went by. All kinds of strange things were developed here. Commoners were no longer acting like commoners any more, Saniya didn’t do politics like most Medala estates, and their economy was a mess he couldn’t follow at all, much less after the king’s foreigner accountants introduced new ways of writing and calculating the treasury’s budget. More and more, Iyo was being left behind.

In the end, he was left to organize the regular banquets and other festivities held by the crown. This was the only part of Saniya life which hadn’t changed at all. Though the banquets in Saniya were more lavish and more frequent than those in other estates, they were still fundamentally the same.

Thus, Iyo was familiar with their operation and well-suited to his new work. This way, his high position in the castle was also retained, and he received high wages for what his new master called ‘organizing the numbing of the ruling class’.

Still, as one of the king’s first allies, shouldn’t he deserve more respect? Wasn’t it rude to just push him aside into a position that was so far removed from the real power of the castle? Where could he go from here? Wasn’t this the end of his path as an official?

Even if he couldn’t read the silly ‘new Yakua’ script of Saniya, since he preferred the noble depth and complexity of classic Yakua, wouldn’t there be any more suitable work for a man of his abilities? He could achieve far greater results for his master in the treasury or with the army instead.

So why exclude him like this? Why prefer some lowly commoners and foreigners over a trained warrior servant like himself? It surely wasn’t down to his qualifications, or to his abilities. Apart from prejudice due to his Ichilia past, Iyo could think of no reason for the king to disregard him like this. Although the sudden stagnation in his career was beyond his understanding, he had no choice but to endure over the past few years. In time, Iyo had begun to accept his fate.

However, this year had brought him a pleasant surprise. At last, the King of the South had begun to lose his stranglehold over the southern kingdom.

With the formation of the league of lords, Iyo’s chance had come again. As a resident of the castle, he understood the king and his forces better than most. He was certain that King Corco wouldn’t survive this crisis.

Maybe if he had acted decisively, the king could have worked out a compromise with the lords, but he no longer had a competent advisor like Iyo by his side, so he had just given in to the threats of Governor Mayu. With the weakness he had shown so far, the king’s fate was as good as sealed.

Now that the writing was on the wall, Iyo had chosen to once again switch allegiances, before his current master would be destroyed by his own incompetence. However, he couldn’t just travel to Puscanacra and ask for employ in Governor Mayu’s court. Otherwise, the governor may consider him a spy, or worse, a traitor.

To prove his value and get into his new master’s good graces from the start, he had to bring useful gifts. Thus, he had come here to Rapra Castle’s archive, to collect some gifts that would be of value to his master Mayu.

Only during this chaotic time would the archives be guarded by just a single commoner official, so his window of opportunity was very slim. To grab this chance, he had even learned the useless script of Saniya so he could navigate the shelves. Even so, the unfamiliar characters took a long time to decipher, and his own nervousness didn’t help him either. Although he had just sent the watchman halfway across the castle and wasn’t expecting him back within at least half an hour, he still felt like someone could come here at any time.

However, everything went smoothly. After a search that felt like an eternity, he had finally collected a good number of documents. All of them contained vital information that would prove invaluable to his new masters. Some summarized the kingdom’s budget, while others contained the number of troops and weapons the king could call upon in times of war.

Most importantly, he had also found the patents for many of Saniya’s most important technologies. For now, they were still stored here until the patent office was established, so Iyo would never let the opportunity slip by to take what his master had been searching for so desperately over the past few days.

In the end, he had collected so much that he couldn’t hide all of it under his robes anymore. Unlike the classic scrolls used in most castles around Medala, the documents here were stored in large folders of stiff paper, so they were much harder to stuff away within a sleeve. It was another useless innovation from a ruler who was too obsessed with change, but it didn’t make much of a difference.

Iyo would simply carry all the documents by hand, out in the open. If he met with another servant on his way out, he could just come up with some cheap excuse and send them on an errand before they asked too many questions. For now, his authority in the castle was still enough to walk through the front door without being questioned. That was all he needed.

However, as soon as he left the archive, he realized that all his authority wouldn’t help him this time. Three figures were blocking the stairs that would lead away from the archive and back up towards the castle’s front gate.

One was the watchman he had just lured away, returned far earlier than Iyo had thought. Next to him stood Admiral Atau, one of the king’s close confidantes and an excellent fighter, which snuffed out all his hope of resistance. However, the final figure was the one Iyo was most familiar with, but it was also the most surprising, and someone he hadn’t expected to meet again in this life.

“City Lord Sawo,” a breathless Iyo addressed the banker by his old title. As soon as he noticed the three figures who were clearly waiting for him to exit the archive, he felt trapped in a nightmare.

These people should never appear together, not here or anywhere else. Why was the old city lord back in Rapra Castle? Had Sawo finally returned to take revenge for Iyo’s past betrayal? Before he had noticed, he lost his grip and the documents dropped from his hands. Loose pieces of paper danced in the hallway and turned the ground in front of him into a mess.

“There you see it, Admiral: Just as I predicted,” Sawo said in the same smug tone that Iyo remembered from years past. “How fortunate that King Corco invited this great master into the castle, otherwise I could have not stepped in now. Who knows what could have happened without this master’s warning. Not that this is much of a surprise, mind you. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

The irony of these words coming from the former Ichilia servant and former city lord Sawo d’Ichilia wasn’t lost on Iyo, but no one else cared. In truth, he didn’t feel like laughing either. Without resistance, the advisor was taken away by the infamous Admiral Atau, while his former master watched on with a satisfied grin. Now, Iyo’s last chance was truly gone.

Hermit's Notes: Anyone still remember Iyo? I wasn't sure anyone did, so I retold his story in this chapter to jog everyone's memory. He was a somewhat prominent supporting character in book3, but appeared less and less in later books, in preparation for this exact chapter. Hopefully it didn't come totally out of left field (or hopefully it did).

Chapter 362 - Gathering Allies

Compared to the loneliness of several days ago, now Corco’s little retreat within Rapra Castle was much more lively. Now, people from all walks of life had come together in this place. They sat, ate, and drank, as they discussed their various views on life and humanity, as well as the future of the world.

At this moment, Corco watched a particularly heated disagreement between some of his guests.

“No, should the warriors really deserve the same rights as everyone!? Why!?” Ekoko, a balding man in gray silken robes shouted and pointed his finger at the other people in the group. “We have been under their thumb for generations, since ancient times! All these years, we have suffered under their rule, and they have reaped countless benefits! Why should they not suffer for once? Why should they note feel the consequences of their actions!?”

Although his words were harsh, Corco could understand Ekoko’s emotions, since he knew his background. This man wasn’t only a commoner, he was also the largest owner of gambling halls and taverns in Saniya. In the past, he had operated his gambling houses illegally, but after the city had been cleaned up, he had adhered to all laws, and obediently paid his taxes.

Or rather, Corco’s people hadn’t found him in violation of any laws, at least so far, which was the only reason he was allowed in here. Well, that, and the fact that the king wanted to see every group in his kingdom represented during these talks. He really didn’t want to overlook anyone’s needs by accident.

Anyways, as a former gangster, Ekoko would have suffered more under the warriors than most. Surely, every time the local warriors needed some money, they would have come to the gambling houses and blackmailed their owners, since there was no way the commoners could fight back against the superior warrior class.

Now that he had the chance, he surely wanted to take revenge for past humiliations. However, calmer minds in the group refuted him before Corco had to.

“And what is the difference between a warrior and a commoner? That they’re good at fighting people? Really, we’re all the same when it comes down to it. They’re just rules made up by the strong to suppress the weak. So what’s the point in segregating people in the future? We’d just make the same mistakes again.” Atau argued opposite of him.

“I think both honorable masters here are missing the point. We are trying to reconcile Yaku tradition with a modern, more perfect world. Our answer to this question cannot be to divide people by class again, with the only difference that another group now stands on top, thereby oppressing their previous oppressors,” ex-priest Watachay said.

“Not to mention, the warriors are hardly in control of anything in the first place. They may have legal power over the commoners, but they also have none of the commoner freedoms,” Tama suddenly appeared and added from the side, which caused Ekoko’s neck to shrink.

“They are de facto slaves to their lords,” Tama continued. “Their own rights are even more limited than those of the commoners. They only really have the ‘right’ to obey their lord’s orders. So they deserve liberation just as much as the craftsmen or merchants of Medala do. No, what we need to achieve is a complete elimination of the old class structure. Only then can we truly unite the people of Medala into a powerful whole, for the future of the empire.”

No one would have expected that, while the city outside was plunged in chaos, the people in the castle were in an almost jubilant atmosphere.

With great satisfaction, Corco watched this conversation, as well as many similar ones all around him. Although all the people he had assembled over the last few days came from different places and backgrounds, each with their own biases and prejudices, together, they would often come to similar conclusions as his own. At least, once they had enough time and debated with an open mind, they would often come close enough.

Most of the time, the king didn’t even have to do anything and could just watch. Only sometimes would he have to push the talks into the right direction or intervene before two people got too heated and started beating each other up.

The harmony in his little retreat was a very encouraging sign for the king’s future plans. All these conversations showed him that cooperation between the classes was truly possible, so long as everyone had a common goal. Although he would have loved to keep sitting and listening, Fadelio entered from the front door and walked towards Corco.

“King Corco, a new guest has arrived,” he said after a bow.

“Oh? Who is it this time?”

Over the past days, people from almost every class in Medala had arrived here to contribute to the discussions. Even some classless people like the traveling folk who were working on Corco’s cartography project had appeared. Every time someone new showed up, the king got excited, since any new arrival would offer a unique perspective on his current kingdom, and unique ideas on what needed to be fixed. Not to mention that they would only further legitimize the choices he had made.

“Advisor Guachimine Villca has come to Saniya to give the regards of his brother, Lord Uchu Villca,” Fadelio explained. “His messengers just reached the castle. They have stated that the advisor is still busy with matters in the city, but he would arrive in the castle within two hours. Would it maybe inappropriate to let him enter the retreat straight away?”

In response to Fadelio’s question, Corco looked around the lively atmosphere in the room. Although he didn’t think highly of the Yaku class system, the Villca clan was still one of the lord families of Medala. Treating them the same as everyone else would be more than a bit inappropriate. Not to mention, he planned to win them over as allies.

“Yeah, that would be rude to anyone, let alone a lord,” Corco said thus. “I’ll entertain him in whatever salon is most ready to entertain guests.”

“Understood.” Fadelio stood to the side and vaguely pointed towards the door. “In that case, please follow me, King Corco. We will need to prepare for the advisor’s entrance.”

Prompted thus, Corco looked down on his own appearance. While his more casual clothes were suitable for the current circumstances, they certainly weren’t good enough to meet with a potential ally in the war against Mayu.

“That’s right,” he agreed, stood up, and followed Fadelio out of the room.

When they had left, he added, “By the way, have you ordered all the stuff we’ll need for the solstice festival?”

“If you mean the normal festival preparations, then that’s been done days ago.” Now that no outsiders were around anymore, Fadelio’s tone was a lot less servile. “If you’re referring to your special project, then I have ordered all of it, in double the numbers you wanted, to make we have spares with something goes wrong. We’ve hid the orders among all the other countless things we’ll need for the festival, so no one will notice anything strange. Also, the fences have already arrived. You can take a look later and see if they’re appropriate for what you had in mind.”

“Thanks for that. What would I do without you?” Corco joked.

“More paperwork, I assume,” Fadelio replied in a dry tone that made the king laugh.

Thus, Corco left the charged atmosphere of his retreat and got ready to greet the most important one among his prospective allies.

__________________________

Two hours later, Guachimine Villca entered Rapra castle’s small salon, exactly on time for his appointment. Compared to the past, the clever political advisor who had been nicknamed ‘rat’ by his enemies was looking a lot more steady these days.

Before, he would hide behind his brothers with a bent posture, while wearing overly simple and humble clothing. Now, his posture was appropriate for the son of one of Medala’s great houses, and he had replaced those simple robes with something more suitable to his standing as the brains behind House Villca’s recent ascension.

Still, he showed the same restraint and superficial politeness that he had always had. As soon as he entered the room, he bowed his head and greeted his king.

“King Corcopaca, this servant is overjoyed at the invitation from House Pluritac and humbled to be a guest in the famous Rapra Castle.”

“Your new robes suit you well, Guachimine,” Corco greeted him back in a familiar tone to ease the atmosphere.

Guachimine wore red robes, but it wasn’t the ostentatious red of the warriors. Instead, he wore a more muted, darker red with loose sleeves and bronze accents, a color and style more suitable for an official.

“Thank you, king.” Guachimine raised his head and smiled lightly, seemingly relieved at the king’s casual tone. “My brother tells me that I ought to look the part for negotiations, or no one will take me seriously.”

“By the way, you’re free to sit down.” Corco motioned to the seat in front of him. “And I’d have to agree with your brother. Humility and understatement can only carry you so far.”

The advisor followed Corco’s advice and took a seat, but he refuted him where it mattered.

“Excuse my rudeness, but that is something you should be currently experiencing yourself, King Corco.”

Well, you might be rude, but you’re not wrong, Corco thought. After all these years, those lords and uncles and cousins finally no longer underestimating me, and now they’re panicking at how strong we’ve become. Though maybe, they’ll still be shocked when they see our real strength.

Although it was a topic of great interest for Corco, he wouldn’t just talk to Guachimine about it, at least not before he had discerned that House Villca was an ally, rather than an enemy. Thus, the king switched topics.

“So I hear you’ve spent some time in the city before coming here,” he said in a conversational tone that didn’t sound like an interrogation, even though it was. “Didn’t you already arrive in Saniya yesterday? At least that’s what my people tell me.”

Despite the hidden accusations, Guachimine remained calm.

“Yes, I felt like I needed to experience the atmosphere in the city first. After all, much has changed since the last time I visited Saniya,” he replied.

“So, what do you think?”

For a second, the younger Villca had to think, as he tried to study Corco’s calm smile.

“It seems like you are in real trouble this time, King,” Villca said in the end, with a saddened look on his face. “Just from one look at the streets, it appears like king’s forces have already lost the war with Governor Mayu before it has properly begun. They already control the streets of your own city, so what can you do to fight back? Not to mention, I followed an invitation from the league of lords this morning and had a long talk with their representative. Their offer was quite tempting, and their victory seems quite assured.”

Just like Guachimine had, Corco remained calm, despite the harsh words. After all, Guachimine Villca wasn’t someone who would come to gloat, or to provoke him for no reason. Since he had come here, it meant that he hadn’t made his decision yet.

“But you still came here?” he thus asked.

“Well, as king may know, I am not someone who is easily swayed. At the very least, I would like to hear from both sides before I come to a conclusion.” Guachimine replied as Corco had predicted.

“To be honest, I’m a bit surprised that your house hasn’t joined that silly league of legends already.” Corco faked a sigh. “What with our spotty history and all.”

Guachimine’s late father, Lord Iqtana Villca, had been one of Corco’s biggest opponents during the succession war. In the end, he had died due to Fadelio’s actions. During Corco’s takeover of the south, he had also fought with the various Villca sons, through various assassination attempts. In the end, they had made peace and begun to cooperate, but Corco would be surprised if the brothers didn’t have any resentment left from their past together.

“Well, I also do not tend to hold grudges, as you may well know,” Guachimine replied. That much was true as well. If Uchu was here, Corco would have expected a much harsher treatment. “And House Villca’s circumstances are a bit unique, to say the least,” the advisor continued.

“You’re worried about the copper mine, I assume?”

Several years back, part of Corco’s economic plan had been to flood the market with cheap copper. To that end, he had worked out a cooperation with House Villca. They already had fairly rich open copper mines on their estate, but the king helped them properly exploit them with modern equipment.

Pumps and better digging tools helped them dig deeper, while a short railway line transported the ore to the nearby river, from where it would be transported to Saniya and refined in the city’s giant foundries.

After Corco’s great copper-flooding plan had been a success, Saniya and Cashan continued to cooperate on that front, with the copper produced in the mines being transported to Saniya for refinement. By now, it was one of House Villca’s biggest income streams.

“It is not the only issue of concern, but it certainly is one of them,” Guachimine admitted.

“At least when it comes to the copper, I’d be glad to continue our cooperation, even if we don’t come to a deal today. Just don’t kill me, or you may lose your best customer,” Corco joked.

In the near future, Saniya would need copper for a whole host of uses. For one, his shipyards had already begun to clad the hulls of his ships with copper sheets, so they would have increased demand for a long time. Not to mention that closer economic ties would make it harder for House Villca to fully stand against him, at least if they wanted to continue selling their copper like they had before.

“Ahaha, House Villca is very glad to hear that.” Guachimine’s laugh sounded surprisingly frank. “However, that is not the only reason we are hesitant.”

“So what else is it? Let me guess, you don’t trust my idiot cousin’s ‘plan’ either?”

It was obvious that Mayu hadn’t come up with this plan himself, and it was also obvious, at least to Corco, that this attempt to take over Saniya was only a small part of a much larger strategy.

Otherwise, why would all those outside forces cooperate with Mayu? Just so a governor could take over and replace the king in power? Of course, Corco wasn’t the only one who was suspicious of the league’s ability to orchestrate such a multi-layered plot. As expected, someone as smart as Guachimine wasn’t fooled either.

“The opacity of the league’s plans, and their plan’s originator, is one factor. But primarily, we are most concerned with Port Ulta’s seeming affiliation with the league. After all, our dear brother Epunamo is still a ‘guest’ there.”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that.”

Strangely, this may be the biggest reason for House Villca to side with Saniya this time. Epunamo was the eldest brother of House Villca, and the eldest son of their late father Iqtana. Before Uchu had struck a deal with the remaining two brothers and taken power with Corco’s help, Epunamo had been the one in control of Cashan’s court.

Apparently, he had planned to cooperate with the north and the foreigners to fight Corco’s new southern kingdom. However, he was defeated before he could make any of his plans reality.

Once his forces had been driven out of the city, he had escaped across the Anticasa Mountain Pass to Port Ulta, which was controlled by his arcavian allies. Since then, he had been stuck there, looking for a chance to regain the seat his three brothers had taken from him.

Throughout the most recent conflict so far, maybe Mayu’s biggest mistake had been to so openly align himself with Port Ulta. Since Port Ulta was openly siding with the league, it was obvious that they had been promised some benefits. What else but Cashan could they have asked for?

If Epunamo were to succeed in his goals and retake Cashan, the three Villca brothers would be as good as dead, replaced by their eldest brother, who would then surely become a puppet of the arcavian forces in Port Ulta. Of course, this wasn’t something any of the brothers would be happy with.

With this new information, Corco finally understood Guachimine’s hesitation in picking a side. They really wanted to stick with him, but would only do so if they saw a chance for victory. Among Corco’s allies, House Villca was now probably one of the most trustworthy, bizarrely. After all, they needed his soldiers maybe even more than he needed theirs.

“You know, King Corco, when I first entered your city yesterday, I thought that the war was already decided,” the younger Villca said. “Out on the streets, your city no longer looks yours.”

“But?” Corco asked for the punchline.

“But now I am not so sure anymore. You seem too calm, and too in control.”

“That sounds about right.”

For a moment, Corco thought about his next step. Since there was no more reason to worry about House Villca’s loyalty, he thought that it was time to inform them of his plans, and to start winning them over.

“Okay.” He clapped as he jumped out of his seat. “In that case, if you wanna find out why I’m so calm, you may wanna stick around the castle a bit. I’ll show you my hideout these days, and what I’ve been doing. There’s also a bunch of other guests in the castle you may wanna meet. You can send a messenger back home and give your brother your first impressions. And tell him that I’m not holding you hostage or anything, before he does something stupid like joining Mayu on his losing quest.”

Thus, Corco opened the door to leave the room. But before he stepped out, he looked back at Guachimine, who looked slightly taken aback at the king’s confidence.

“Oh also, if you don’t want to be perceived as standing on the wrong side of history, you may want to tell your brother Uchu to come to Saniya for the winter solstice festival. I’d emphasize that to him, if I were you. Since it’s important and all.”

Because by then, you really don’t want to be seen as anything other than my ally.

Of course, he didn’t say that part out loud. There was no reason to spoil the surprise just yet. What would be the fun in that?

Hermit's Notes: Yeah, a bit late this week, since I didn't have time for anything yesterday. Sorry about that. I'll try to get another three chapters done until Christmas, so I can take a short break during the holidays. Let's hope it works out.

Chapter 363 - Quiet Resistance

Exhausted from another long day of labor, Sami left the Tasa manufactory around dusk. When he had taken the job, he had never thought that his work would be so physically draining. Of course, even after all these days, the manufactory still wasn’t operating the way it was supposed to, despite their previous plans.

Rather than overseeing the mass-creation of luxury furniture like he was paid to do, Sami had spent his recent days in the half-destroyed leftovers of his previous place of work. There, he helped the other workers clean up the mess that the various groups of ‘supervisors’ had left behind on their raids.

Though at first it had looked like they could scare away the warriors of the league of lords, they had soon been taught a lesson in humility.

In the first few days of Saniya’s new order, after King Corco’s capitulation to the demands of his lords, the bands of warriors had still been somewhat restrained. They had threatened them with harsh words, but had only probed for entrance and had never overstepped legal bounds.

Especially when they had realized that the Tasa manufactory employed a lot more workers than the average commoner workshop, many of whom were cultivators and former warriors themselves, the ‘supervisors’ had quickly retreated. Some of the ruder ones had been more insistent, but they never had the strength to force their way inside. And once the local police forces showed up, even the most persistent among the ‘supervisors’ would disappear after spouting a few excuses and leaving behind some vague threats.

However, the greedy warriors had never really given up. With the promise of riches in front of them, these people were relentless. After all, the Tasa furniture manufactory was the first privately owned manufactory in Saniya, and it was also the largest workshop in the hands of commoners.

On top of that, Sami had also heard stories that the ‘supervisors’ had found no success in their attempts to steal from the official government manufactories these days. As a result, they targeted the commoners even more viciously than before, driven by their greed and desperation.

Compared to all the smaller workshops that were still in private hands, the large Tasa manufactory would logically become their prime target. So they hadn’t really been deterred, not by the powerful Tasa workers, nor by the warnings from the local police.

As the local forces had shrunk back more and more over the following days, the supervisors saw their chance, and got bolder and bolder as a result. When they realized that none of the police would seriously stop them, let alone punish them for their crimes, several groups of ‘supervisors’ had banded together and finally overpowered the Tasa workers.

After they had forced entry into the Tasa manufactory, they had searched up and down for anything of value, and had taken with them whatever they could carry. In the process, they hadn’t identified themselves, they hadn’t shown any official documentation, and they hadn’t asked a single question.

They hadn’t even tried to pretend that their actions were in any way legitimate, or anything other than daylight robbery. Once their rampage was over, they had left behind a mess, which caused great distress to Sami and the other workers. Though he was mostly distressed about all the extra work, really.

At least their boss understood their struggles. A few days ago, boss Sawo had appeared and paid all factory workers two months of wages in advance, including a bonus, which had done wonders for morale. Still, Sami would have preferred to avoid the constant raids from various groups of ‘supervisors’, even if it meant slightly less money.

In fact, what annoyed him most about these supervisors was that they weren’t even doing their jobs right. Not their fake ones, and not their real ones. Of course, they weren’t supposed to enter the privately owned businesses at all, and they weren’t supposed to just take stuff, so they never really acted like supervisors. But that was to be expected. However, they were even lousy bandits. For one, they had no eye for valuables at all.

Whenever they scoured the manufactory for things to steal, they would routinely overlook some of the most valuable goods they had in store. They would walk right past the expensive woods imported from Chutwa or the Verdant Isles, only to take the cheap brass alloy they used as decoration for some of their furniture.

Just because it‘s nice and shiny. The same eye for treasure as birds.

Even more hilariously, they had no idea how to fulfill their masters’ goals either. According to one of Sami’s friends, these supervisors had specifically come to copy and steal Saniya’s advanced technologies. Those were the orders their masters had given them.

However, they would walk right past the irreplaceable machines like the water-powered lathes, just because they didn’t understand them. To them, they must have looked like greasy blocks of gray iron, maybe comparable to an anvil in usefulness: Too heavy to move, and not worth that much in the first place. To them, these invaluable marvels of technology had no worth. And it seemed like the bandits were acting like this in other workshops as well, from what he had heard.

If these ‘supervisors’ really wanted to steal something of value, they should have quietly watched the manufactory during working hours and copied their order of operations, which was optimized for efficiency and the biggest money saver in their entire workshop. At the same time, they could have taken a few measuring instruments like rulers with them as well, another key invention that they foolishly overlooked in favor of blackmailing a few copper coins out of the workers’ pockets.

Maybe that was the worst embarrassment for Sami: The fact that they were being bossed around by such colossal incompetents. However, while the supervisors were horrible at their jobs and had no understanding of real life work, the chaos they caused was very real indeed. If at least one of their aims had been to spread terror throughout Saniya, their operation had been a smashing success, quite literally.

As he sneaked his way through the dark alleys of the city, he didn’t come across a single soul. Still, in several directions, he could faintly hear far-off shouts and the sounds of destruction. Both had become familiar to Sami over the past days.

Once, everyone had walked on the large and straight roads built by their king with pride and confidence. Day and night, these roads had been lined with stalls and shops, offering all kinds of wares and snacks to the people who strolled past them, simply to enjoy the atmosphere of the greatest city in the world.

Now, the stalls were gone, and the people had behind the walls of their houses. Only the patrols of warrior supervisors were still outside to make trouble for anyone who dared to come into their view.

Maybe, soon enough, the warriors would lose all inhibitions, and start raiding the private homes in the city as well. That would truly be the end of Saniya, and his as well. If these people ever found out what Saniya’s commoners were doing behind closed doors, there would truly be no going back.

Before any warriors could find him, Sami made his way several roads down, to the goal of his journey, a mid-sized courtyard in the city center.

Two short, two long, two short.

With a code written in knocks, he let the people behind the door know that he wasn’t an outsider, or a raider.

Early on during the city’s new order, some private citizens had made the mistake of opening their doors to the supervisor. They had paid dearly for their error. Since then, everyone had become a lot more cautious and wouldn’t let anyone in unless they knew them by name. That was appropriate even for normal households, but it was even more fitting for the people inside this yard. After all, they really had something to hide.

Not long after his knocks, the courtyard door opened, and revealed its owner, a familiar face to Sami.

“Sami, welcome,” his old friend Chanca said. A few years back, both of them had arrived in the city on the same boat, as fellow carpentry apprentices. But today, Sami was a foreman at the new Tasa manufactory, if it ever started production, while Chanca had made his career by sleeping with the rich man Ekoko’s daughter.

“Hey Chanca, long time no see,” Sami replied, relieved to see his old friend again. After Sami had quit his work at Ekoko’s bar, the two had lost sight of each other a bit, though the recent events in the city had united them again.

“Come inside,” Chanca said while he grabbed Sami by the shoulder. “The event has already started. And there’s something special I want to show you.”

From the courtyard, the two marched towards one of the buildings in the back, furthest from the road. From the outside, Sami could already hear the excited murmurs of people, which was why they had to hold their meeting in these larger backyards. If anyone heard them while walking by, the nouse would draw attention otherwise.

Still, despite the remoteness of the building, both Sami and Chanca looked around, as if on reflex, just in case there were any ‘supervisors’ nearby. Only then did Chanca open the door and let his old colleague enter.

Inside, the air was heavy, thick with defiance. More than a dozen young men and women filled the room, almost to the brim. They were people from all walks of life, though none of them were warriors. They had craftsmen and merchants in here, but also entertainers like his girlfriend Ulan or the sons of farmers who stayed in the city to visit the school. Sometimes, even police and soldiers would join them in this place.

These secret meeting had grown out of the quiet gatherings that many well-off Saniya commoners had made popular in the last few years. However, in here, no one would play quiet chamber music to drown out the unjust world outside. Instead, they would come together here to drink, be merry, and – most of all – rail against their oppressors.

At the moment, all the guests stared at one of their own who was about to do just that. With a straight and righteous posture, he stood on one of the tables, the crowd gathered around him, and spoke in a powerful voice.

“This is a poem that I have titled ‘the Panther’,” he explained, before he began to recite the words in his heart.

“His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.”

For a while, Sami was transfixed, stunned into silence by the powerful language. Wasn’t this just describing his own tragedy, his own inner turmoil? Wasn’t this the position of everyone in this room, their strength, valor, and nobility caged, by ancient laws. All of them eager to break free, but numbed by years of oppression, from forces far above their own? Compared to the shallow poems about spring and summer that the fancy nobles liked, these were words that spoke to his heart and tensed his muscles.

“Heavens know what he’s babbling about again,” Chanca interrupted Sami’s profound thoughts with his usual thoughtlessness.

“You can’t relate to this?” Sami asked in confusion. Even if Chanca couldn’t understand the words, couldn’t he at least feel the fire and desperation contained within the diction?

“He’s always waxing off like this, but I don’t really get it.” Chanca scratched his head. “Words won’t do us any good either way. Once the supervisors show up, I’m sure they won’t care about his fancy diction. Anyways, if you’ve heard enough of this nonsense, I’ll show you around now. As I said, there’s something I wanna show you. I guarantee it’ll be better than the tiger poem.”

On any other day, Sami would stay in these meetings and mingle with the group for a bit, but Chanca’s expression looked unusually serious by his standards. Thus, Sami followed his friend deeper into the building, away from the downtrodden youths.

Hermit's Notes: The original poem 'The Panther' was written by Rainer Maria Rilke. I always thought it made for a good metaphor for a pre-revolution state. I looked at various english translations, and this was the one I thought best captured the feeling of the original. As always with poem translations though, I feel like it doesn't quite do the original justice.

Chapter 364 - Silent Ultimatum

Since Chanca’s vague request sounded urgent, Sami followed his host through the crowd, towards the back of the room. However, halfway to wherever they were going, the host stopped for a second, changed directions and walked up to a table with an expensive porcelain bowl on top.

“Hey, you want some punch?” Chanca asked out of the blue. Before Sami could ask what ‘punch’ was even supposed to be, the host had picked up one of the porcelain cups next to the bowl and had begun to ladle in some steaming, amber-colored liquid.

Confused, Sami looked at his friend.

“I thought you had to show me something important. Is this it?” he asked. Surely, Chanca had more to show off than some booze, right?

“I’m not sure you’re ready yet,” Chanca replied while handing Sami the cup. “Thought maybe you’ll need a strong drink first. It’s a big deal, so you’d better be prepared.”

“Sure.”

While he would have much rather gotten to the point already, Sami was somewhat intrigued by the unknown drink in front of him. He was a former barman after all. Although he preferred simple drinks to complicated ones in general, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a good cocktail.

Thus, he took a sip, to get a taste, and to get it over with. After all, Chanca had never had a sophisticated palate, and Sami doubted he’d really be knocked out by this ‘punch’.

To Sami’s surprise, the drink’s flavor was rich and complex, with sweetness and sourness mixed in equal amounts. From the heat entering his body, Sami could tell that the drink contained a lot of alcohol, but it didn’t taste like it at all. This felt like the perfect booze for getting dead drunk with friends.

“This is pretty good.” he concluded, before he took another sip. “What’s in it?”

“I hear there’s milk in it.” Chanca shrugged and ladled a second cup for himself. “Lots of booze too. Not sure about the rest.”

“Wait, you didn’t make this?” Sami asked. He thought that Ekoko’s newest barman was trying to show off his own creation here. Evidently, he had overestimated his friend.

“What do you take me for? Of course I didn’t make it,” Chanca replied, while giving him a weird look. “The new guy at dad’s bar made it.”

“That is something I really should have guessed.”

In retrospect, it was quite obvious. Even back when both of them had been working in Ekoko’s bar, Sami had been the one who did most of the work, including all the mixing.

When he left his job, he thought that Chanca would take over some of the tasks, but it looked like he had just found a new stooge to do it for him. Sami silently prayed for his successor and hoped he was paid well enough for his services.

“Hahaha, I’m too busy to bother with that small stuff,” Chanca said. “Anyways, we should get going. You better hold on to that cup, you’re gonna need it.”

With steaming hot drinks in hand, the two left first the room, and then the building through the back door. Outside once more, they didn’t return to the front of the yard that Sami had entered from. Instead, he followed Chanca towards a small building near the yard’s back entrance.

“The ice house?” Sami asked after he had identified Chanca’s target. “What are we doing here?”

“There’s something I wanna show you,” Chanca repeated, before he opened the heavy lock and entered the small room.

The inside of the ice house was predictably frosty. In response, Sami pulled his robes closed and wrapped his hands around the punch in his hand. Now, he was glad that his host had stopped for a drink first, or he would have really suffered in the icy cold.

Although they were in deep winter already, there were still plenty of fresh ice blocks stacked up in the ice house, occupying at least half the room. Maybe they were for all the drinks served in Ekoko’s taverns and bars, Sami thought. That was the only explanation that made sense to him, since there was little else in the room. Apart from a few pieces of meat and fish hung up next to the blocks of ice, Sami couldn’t find anything of interest.

“So what did you have to show me?” Sami asked once again. Hhe took a seat on an ice block, before he took another sip from his drink. “Were you just feeling sentimental and wanted to sit on some ice again, with a good drink in hand?”

When Sami and Chanca had come to Saniya, they had done so on a ship transporting ice from the south. Since they hadn’t been able to pay for passage back then, they had been forced to work on the ship.

Thus, they had been forced to stay in the freezing storage for several days, to watch the ice and make sure it  wouldn’t melt on the voyage. Even to this day, Sami still had shivering nightmares about it sometimes. Still, to him, it was an important memory, and a precious one. However, Chanca only gave him a blank stare.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, and began to pull away the blocks of ice in the back of the room with an ice hook.

Although Sami wanted to help, he didn’t get the chance. Just after he had stood up, and before he could make one step forward, he stopped again, surprised by the large wooden boxes that were revealed behind the blocks of ice.

No wonder so much of the ice house was taken up by ice. The blocks were being used to hide something behind them. Before Sami had regained his senses, Chanca had already pulled out two of the long boxes and put them on the ground between the two.

“What’s going on here?” a nervous Sami asked. “Are you smuggling stuff for boss Ekoko?”

From the stories told by his former drunkard patrons, Sami knew that Ekoko was a shady character, so he wouldn’t be surprised if he dealt in illegal goods as well. Though it wouldn’t be a surprise, he still wasn’t prepared for it. Was he about to be roped into some dangerous, illegal business?

“Nothing like that,” Chanca replied, as he ripped at the lid on the first box to loosen the nails. “These ones are for us.”

Before Sami could ask what his host meant, the nails finally gave up their resistance. The box opened, and he got his answer. Inside the long box, laid out atop a bed of straw, sat two long, shiny metal rods attacked to a wooden stocks. Sami had seen enough army training to know what they were. His cup of punch fell from his hands and landed on the ground, where it began to steam and eat into the ice. But Sami didn’t care.

“What is this?” he asked breathlessly, even though he knew the answer already.

“They’re matchlock rifles.” Chanca replied with pride in his voice, as he lovingly patted one of the gun stocks. “Beauties, right?”

“Where did you even get those?” a panicked Sami asked back. At the same time, he looked over to the door to the ice house, to make sure no one was listening in.

“Dad got in contact with some people in the military. The army’s been replacing their old guns with newer models, so we could get these easily. I guess they’re not the newest models, since the army is getting rid of them. They still fire fine though, so dad bought them.”

While he was talking, Chanca started to open up the second box. Sami didn’t even want to know what was inside this one.

“But… what do you even want to do with them?” he asked. “Are you selling them? That’s illegal!”

Finally, Chanca managed to open the second box, which revealed two one-handed battle axes. When he turned back towards Sami, his face looked scrunched up from annoyance.

“Who cares what’s illegal anymore?” he barked at his friend. “The police don’t care about the law, so why should we? We gotta protect ourselves somehow, right?”

“You want to fight the supervisors? You’re crazy.”

While Sami could barely whisper from shock, his friend was his polar opposite, and looked like he was about to explode.

“No, it’s the king who’s crazy!” he shouted back. “When we came here, everyone told us about all those great laws in the city. How the king’s going to protect us, and make sure we are treated the same as everyone else! Where’s the precious protection that he’s promised!? Isn’t he just giving us up at the first sign of trouble!?”

“The king has no fault,” Sami stubbornly insisted, against his better judgment. “The other lords are just too strong. But King Corco will never give us up like that. Surely, he has a plan to save us!”

Finally, Sami found his voice again and shouted back, maybe to convince himself. However, Chanca wasn’t impressed.

“And where is that plan? I don’t see anything.” The host sneered. “All I see is that everything gets worse, day by day. He’s made big promises, and we believed him, and that’s why we came here. And now we’re all done for, because he won’t keep his end of the bargain. If those supervisors just get a little bit bolder, we’re all dead, and all the kings and tiger poems won’t save us anymore! So why shouldn’t we arm ourselves and-”

A series of distant bumps ground Chanca’s impassioned speech to an abrupt halt. Both friends in the ice house forgot their argument, stood up straight, and stared at the closed door in shock. However, Sami soon realized that the bump hadn’t come from the ice house door, at least.

“On order of the league of lords! Open up!” They heard a muffled shout in the distance.

When Sami looked back to Chanca, he saw horrendous anger on his friend’s face, worse than anything he had ever seen. From the second box, Chanca picked up the two axes. One he kept for himself, and the other he shoved into Sami’s arms, who held onto it with stiff, awkward hands, as if he had no idea how to operate it.

At first, Sami glanced over at the guns, but he soon realized why Chanca hadn’t picked them instead. The weapons weren’t loaded, and they wouldn’t be able to hide the burning fuses in the darkness either.

While Sami was still trying to make sense of what was happening, Chanca had already opened the door to the ice house. Now the shouts were much louder than before.

“Yeah! The lords have come to confiscate your wine! Open up!”

Accompanied by the constant shouts and banging from the people outside, the two sneaked over to the yard’s back entrance. The entire wooden gate was rattling under the violent impacts of the warriors on the other side.

Now that he could hear them more clearly, Sami realized that the would-be intruders sounded drunk. Maybe they had been looking for a tavern and had come to the wrong house, or maybe the alcohol had made them even bolder than usual and they had simply decided that Chanca’s place would be unlucky today. Either way, they didn’t seem to think that the locked door of a private home had any right to stand in their way.

Still with determined anger expressed on his face, Chanca got on one side of the door, while he directed the stiff Sami to stand on the other. Like an automaton, the carpenter followed his friend’s silent orders. Everything was happening so fast that he didn’t even have time to think.

Although the weather was cold, and although he had dropped his hot punch before, he felt sweaty all over. Several times, the axe threatened to slip from his wet fingers. He had no choice but to hold it more firmly, lest the falling weapon be heard by the warriors on the other side.

Time moved with the swiftness of a traveler in a bog. Eventually, the shouts stopped, but the banging only got more intense. Clearly, the people on the other side were no longer interested in conversation, if they ever had been. Now, they just wanted to force entry, no matter how it looked.

Even in the darkness, Sami could see tiny puffs of pulverized stone spurt out of the gate’s hinges every time an impact shook the gate. For now, they still held on to the stone wall that surrounded the yard. But sooner or later, they would give in under the pressure. By then, they would have to fight for their lives.

As time went on, Sami’s determination rose, infected by Chanca’s attitude. Although the intruders were warriors, they were also drunk, and he was in the right. At last, he properly gripped his axe, and prepared for the worst.

Luckily, the worst never came. After a few more bangs, the people on the other side of the gate gave up. They left behind some slurred curses, before Sami could hear them shuffling off into the distance.

“You see what’s happening here? Since no one takes care of us, we need to take care of ourselves,” Chanca whispered. “I’ll give our king until the solstice festival. If he can’t deal with the invaders by then, we’ll have to deal with them ourselves.”

This time, there was nothing Sami could say in reply.

Hermit's Notes: There probably won't be another chapter today, since the story is getting a bit more complicated now. It's been a while since I wrote a structure like this, where multiple strands are all leading towards the same, massive event, so I wanna get it right. Still planning to post another two chapters by tomorrow though. Wish me luck.

Table of Contents

- Chapter 332 - Tricks of the Commoners

- Chapter 333 - House Ogulno Breaks its Isolation

- Chapter 334 - Unhappy Clergy
- Chapter 335 - Modern Education
- Chapter 336 - Bent and Upright

- Chapter 337 - Felian Northdale, Really Trying to Keep it Together

- Chapter 338 - Guerilla Warfare
- Chapter 339 - Modern Weapons
- Chapter 340 - Focus
- Chapter 341 - His Entire World
- Chapter 342 - The Final Piece
- Chapter 343 - Machines
- Chapter 344 - Reigning in the Opposition
- Chapter 345 - Open Contempt
- Chapter 346 - Fires Everywhere
- Chapter 347 - Unexpected Enemies
- Chapter 348 - Interview With the Devil
- Chapter 349 - The End of His Patience
- Chapter 350 - Welcoming the Visitors
- Chapter 351 - The Final Talks
- Chapter 352 - Chaos in the City
- Chapter 353 - Emergency Meeting
- Chapter 354 - A Round of Drinks
- Chapter 355 - Two Masks
- Chapter 356 - War For the City's Soul
- Chapter 357 - Chamber Music
- Chapter 358 - Support
- Chapter 359 - Treasure Hunt

- Chapter 360 - The Dangerous Life of a Treasure Hunter

- Chapter 361 - Switching Sides
- Chapter 362 - Gathering Allies
- Chapter 363 - Quiet Resistance
- Chapter 364 - Silent Ultimatum