Shinwa Densetsu no Eiyuu no Isekaitan - Volume 6 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Things Fall Apart

The twenty-fourth day of the first month of Imperial Year 1024

Winter was warm in the south of the empire. The vastness of its lands meant that its territories experienced the seasons very differently. The temperature could vary greatly between regions, and those unused to travel could quickly fall ill. It was this market that books such as Travel for Beginners existed to serve.

“Hmm...there are monsters in the south, so beware, it says...and apparently bandits are more common than elsewhere too.” The crimson-haired girl nodded to herself as she perused her copy. “I wonder if they’re just irritable because of the heat? I know it makes me cranky.”

“Are there not monsters in every territory?” The turquoise-haired girl opposite offered a wry smile. Her face was drawn, as though she was feeling out of sorts.

The silver-haired girl by her side nodded in agreement, although her attention remained fixed on the book in her lap. “Scáthach is right. They’re everywhere.”

“You know, now that you mention it...” The expression slid from Liz’s face. She closed the book and laid it on the seat.

The trio were in a carriage. A landscape formed of green and brown rolled past outside the window.

“We can’t be far from Sunspear.”

Sunspear was the seat of House Muzuk of the south. Of the five territories, the south was the hottest, consisting mostly of prairie and desert on account of its arid climate. The northern regions, however, boasted fertile soil ideal for human habitation, and it was in these lands that the city lay.

“Sunspear...” Scáthach repeated the name to herself. “A city of trade, or so I’ve heard, although I also know it for gold.”

“That’s right! It’s a wonderful place. You can find goods there from all over the world. It’s just as varied as the capital and maybe twice as shiny. Do you know, the entire palace is made out of gold. You won’t believe your eyes!”

With the imperial capital to the north, Lichtein and Steissen to the south, the Third Imperial City to the west, and Baldickgarten to the east, Sunspear was well positioned as a hub of commerce. Natural gold reserves also made it attractive to the empire’s upper class and merchants, as well as enterprising individuals hoping to strike it rich.

“Most likely, Steissen is hoping to gain control of those interests,” Scáthach remarked.

Liz cocked her head. “You know, it’s strange. Don’t you think it’s a little too quiet?”

The party had headed directly for Sunspear after entering the southern territories, prioritizing a meeting with House Muzuk over a detour to Berg Fortress. They were traveling as fast as they could, trailing an escort of only thirty riders; the remaining soldiers had gone to Berg Fortress with Garda. As they made their way south, however, Liz had begun to sense something amiss, and the feeling had only grown stronger the closer they came to the city.

Scáthach frowned. “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Something does feel wrong.”

“What do you think, Aura?”

“Mm.”

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough if there’s anything to it.” Scáthach gestured toward the window. “Here we are.”

A great gate loomed over the road ahead, with merchants passing through in both directions. Guards stood before it, conducting goods inspections. They stopped and bowed as they caught sight of the carriage’s livery. One stepped closer and exchanged a few words with the coachman before peering in through the window.

“Greetings, Lady Celia Estrella. It’s an honor to welcome you to Sunspear.”

“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure.” Liz smiled back, albeit just a little stiffly. Something was definitely amiss; the guards should not have been so lax. As they passed through the gate, her suspicion hardened to certainty.

“Aura...do you think Steissen is really attacking?”

Aura made a noncommittal noise, but otherwise she didn’t reply. Scáthach, too, only crossed her arms and cocked her head pensively.

Liz looked back over the letters she had received from the head of House Muzuk. He had sent a series of increasingly urgent missives over the course of their journey. Even now, reading them again, there seemed to be a clear note of panic in his writing.

“What’s going on? Shouldn’t Steissen’s forces be marching on the city?”

The final letter described an army of around sixty thousand attempting to encircle Sunspear, but the people outside did not look like a populace under siege. The streets were just as packed as Liz remembered from years gone by. More than a few passersby were dressed in vibrant fabrics, their spirits buoyed by the turn of the year, and there seemed to be a smile on every face. The air was jubilant, a far cry from a city beset by war.

At last, a gaudy building constructed entirely from gold came into view. The sight was intended to impress onlookers with House Muzuk’s status, although it also offered a glimpse of their vanity.

The carriage stopped and the doors opened, flooding the interior with dazzling sunlight. As Liz’s feet touched the ground, a man stepped forward and bowed his head.

“Welcome to my humble hall.”

Beto Lueger von Muzuk, House Muzuk’s young head, had become the patriarch of the family at the age of twenty-seven after his father passed away from sickness. In the four years since, he had disposed of corrupt nobles and courted foreign merchants to establish trade routes, developing Sunspear as a center of commerce. Although young in years, he had shown himself to be an astonishingly capable ruler, as well as an egalitarian who surrounded himself with the best and brightest, regardless of upbringing.

“I had scarcely dreamed the day would come when we would welcome Lady Celia Estrella to our home.”

The woman at his side mirrored his gesture. She was dressed in striking fashion. Her outfit was so sheer that her underwear was visible beneath, perhaps to help her weather the heat. For some reason—the arid climate, perhaps—the overall impression was not indecent. The clear outlining of her body’s curves highlighted her artistic beauty.

“I am Selvia Sephone von Muzuk.” She held out a hand in greeting. “I believe we have already met, Your Highness. Do you recall?”

Liz accepted Selvia’s handshake with a smile. “Of course I remember. How have you been?”

Selvia had been the first to offer Liz congratulations at the latter’s coming-of-age ceremony. She was also good friends with Rosa, with whom she maintained regular correspondence.

“Far better now, thank you. The weather has grown much cooler in recent days. Is Lady Rosa in good spirits? She’s so busy nowadays, she hardly ever finds the time to write.”

“Maybe a little too good. I wish she could have seen her way to joining us...”

“Oh, I can hardly blame her. She’s the acting head of House Kelheit now. She doesn’t have the time for diversions that she used to. I must pay her a visit once things settle down a little.”

Liz beamed. “You should! I’m sure she’d be delighted.”

“Dinner is ready, if you’ll forgive the early hour,” Beto interrupted. “Shall we head inside? The evening chill will soon set in.”

By his side stood Aura and a now-hooded Scáthach. They appeared to have just finished their introductions.

“Oh, that’s right!” Selvia said. “We can’t very well stay talking out here in the cold. You must come in.” In spite of herself, however, she soon began introducing herself to Aura and Scáthach.

Beto turned to Liz with a weary smile as he watched his wife out of the corner of his eye. “Perhaps we ought to go on ahead. Our food will be getting cold.”

“Before that, I wanted to ask about Steissen—”

Beto ushered Liz toward the palace, cutting her off. “That would be better discussed over dinner, don’t you think? There’s no telling who might be listening out here.”

“I suppose so... All right, lead the way.”

“With pleasure.” Beto turned with an elegant flourish and strode toward the palace doors. To Liz’s surprise, they were made of wood. Still, it was plain that they had been built with the finest lumber. They were no less magnificent than the doors of the imperial palace itself.

Beto stopped. “Wondering why they aren’t made of gold?”

“Just a little...” Liz raised a hand to her cheek. She hadn’t realized that her curiosity had been so obvious.

“Gold is heavy. Doors made from the stuff take more men and time to open than you might think. My wife dismissed the idea as a waste of time and money.”

“Huh...” The answer was far more prosaic than Liz had expected. It was hard to know how to respond. In the end, she opted for a diplomatic smile.

As they spoke, the doors creaked open and the interior air spilled out. Liz stepped inside—or at least, she tried. A great crowd filled the chamber within, all on one knee with their heads bowed toward her—the nobles of the south.

Beto smiles wryly. “They heard that you were coming and insisted on paying their respects.”

The extravagant welcome earned a frown from Liz, but Beto moved ahead before she could ask any questions.

“I must apologize for all the fuss, Lady Celia Estrella,” Selvia said. “I did try to dissuade my husband, but this was one point on which he would not back down.”

It was a display of power for Liz’s benefit, she realized. Beto was emphasizing his own importance, showing that House Muzuk was the lynchpin around which the entire south turned. If Hiro had been here, he probably would have made some quip about wasted effort. Liz, however, couldn’t bring herself to be so dismissive. The nobles had gathered here for her; the least she could do was thank them. As she passed before them, she offered each and every one a few words of appreciation.

When at last she was done, she looked back, exhausted. “I think I could do with dinner now.”

“I’m certain you could.” Selvia laid a hand to her cheek and gave an affectionate smile. “Come, this way.”

Liz found herself steered into a dining hall. A line of servers waited against the wall. Beto stood beside a long table laden with food, wearing a small smile. “This seat is yours, Your Highness,” he said, indicating the head of the table.

Liz took her place with a slight nod. The rest of the attendees followed suit. Beto raised a silver goblet and shot her a glance, prompting her to lead the toast.

I’ve never been good at this...not that fancy banquets are something I should get used to.

Sighing to herself, she raised her goblet and scanned the room, ensuring that everybody had their own cups in hand. “I would like to thank Lord von Muzuk... Wait, no, we give thanks to the Divines first, don’t we? Or was it the Spirit King?”

An awkward silence fell. Liz’s crimson eyes searched for help, but none came. Aura’s expression was as blank as ever, rendering it impossible to tell what she was thinking. Scáthach smiled like a proud mother. Liz wanted to hide her head in her hands, but she forced herself to keep going and lift her goblet high.

“To... To our health!”

In what might have been an attempt to lift her spirits, the rest of the table repeated her word with gusto. This was no time to wallow in regret or should-haves, however. Putting her embarrassment behind her, she laid her goblet down and turned to Beto.

“There’s something I need to ask you.” Her youthful uncertainty vanished, replaced by stony-faced seriousness.

Sensing the change that had come over her, Beto drained his goblet in a single gulp and fixed her with a level gaze. Something gleamed in his eyes. “You did seem to have something on your mind.”

“That’s right. Tell me...what in the world is going on?”

“Was something amiss with your welcome? I thought it was an appropriate reception for a princess of the empire.”

In a flash of irritation, Liz thumped a stack of papers onto the table. “You told me several times in these very letters that an attack from Steissen was imminent—oh, don’t give me the ‘what letters?’ routine.” She stood up from her chair, brows furrowed. “No more playing dumb. Tell me right now what this is all about.”

Seeing that obfuscating was unlikely to get him very far, Beto heaved a sigh. “I have deceived you in effect, Your Highness, but I assure you, not in spirit.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” The suspicious glint in Liz’s eyes heightened to fury.

Beto took a moment to think, planting his elbows on the table and covering his mouth with his hands. All of a sudden, a sharp clatter rang through the dining hall. Liz spun around toward the source of the noise.

“Aura?”

Aura stood stock-still. Her chair lay toppled on the floor behind her.

“What’s wrong?”

Aura gave no reply, but she was trembling, and her face had gone white as a sheet. Scáthach, too, seemed to have realized something. Her shoulders shuddered as she ground her teeth in chagrin.

“Lady Celia Estrella, I fear those letters were lies.”

Liz turned slowly back to see Beto wearing a crafty smile. “Excuse me?”

“They were mistruths. Fabrications. We have already come to an agreement with Steissen.”

For a moment, she was stunned. Her eyes flew wide in disbelief, and her hands shook as she held back a burning anger. She had to consciously tell herself to calm down.

“But then...why did you ask for reinforcements? You wrote so many letters...” The terrible notion surfaced in her mind that he might be collaborating with Six Kingdoms. She called Lævateinn to her hand and assumed a combat stance, ready to fight at the slightest notice. “You have to know that Six Kingdoms is invading as we speak. This isn’t the time to be playing games. If this is a joke, you’ve gone too far.”

“No joke, Your Highness. A request. From a certain party.”

“‘A certain party’? You wouldn’t happen to mean Six Kingdoms, would you?”

That was the end of her tether. Fury surged from her, striking Beto like a wave of blades. An ordinary man would have passed out on the spot, but Beto was no stranger to peril.

“I mean Lord Hiro Schwartz.”

“What?” Liz’s anger dissipated instantly, replaced by incredulity. “What are you saying? This was on Hiro’s orders? Why would he do that?”

The corners of her eyes creased with sadness. She looked ready to scream into Beto’s face that he was lying. Questions swirled inside her head, adding to her confusion as she struggled for words.

“I can empathize with your astonishment. I, too, was shocked when Lord Hiro asked me to pen falsehoods.” Beto’s voice held genuine sympathy, but his words did not seem to reach Liz’s ears.

“Why?” she murmured. “I don’t understand...”

Her words were not for him, but for the black-haired boy in her mind. Nonetheless, he took it as an answer and opened his mouth to respond.

The one who got there first, however, was Selvia.

“What if he was trying to keep you out of danger?”

“What? Me?”

“With the central territories fallen into disorder, it would not be prudent to have you stay. It only makes sense to send you south in search of allies. But Six Kingdoms will not be content to lay waste only to the west, don’t you agree? I expect his intention was to relocate you somewhere safe in case the worst came to pass.”

“But sending me away won’t stop Six Kingdoms,” Liz protested. “If the central territories fall, they’ll march right on through to the south. If we fought them together...”

“Don’t you see? He is offering himself as bait to buy you time to mount a defense.” Selvia’s long eyelashes fluttered sorrowfully as she spoke. “He hid the truth because he knew that you would try to stop him from going to his death.”

“That can’t be. Rosa would never allow it. She’d stop him even if I wasn’t there.”

“I fear she would not.” Beto looked at Liz regretfully. “The only one not already aware of the truth is you.”

The table shook violently, plates and all. Liz had struck it with her fist—not out of anger, but out of sorrow. “Then Rosa was in on this too?!” she cried. With tears beading in the corners of her eyes, she made for a pitiful sight.

“By necessity. But she would not have made such a choice lightly—” Beto cut himself off as Liz stood up from her chair. “Are you leaving, Your Highness?”

“Of course. Why would I stay?”

“You have no hope of making it in time. A messenger came before you even arrived. Lord Hiro will soon make contact with Six Kingdoms.”

“Then I’d better meet up with the Fourth Legion and head west as soon as I can.” Liz began to walk away. Scáthach and Aura fell in behind her. Neither seemed inclined to lend Beto their ear.

“If you refuse to listen to reason, you leave me no choice.” With an exasperated sigh, Beto snapped his fingers. The dining hall doors flew open and armed soldiers poured in.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Liz narrowed her eyes, unsheathing Lævateinn from her hip. Aura also readied her spirit weapon. Scáthach alone remained unarmed, for fear of revealing her identity. The soldiers hesitated when they saw that Liz and her companions had no intention of backing down. Their weapons trembled as they sensed their mortal peril.

“I have no intention of seeing blood spilled, Your Highness,” Beto continued. “I ask only that you hear what I have to say.”

“Then tell your soldiers to back off.”

“I fear I cannot. For my sins, I will not break a promise made. My word is worth more than my life. For both our sakes, will you not stand down?”

“If you won’t let us leave, we’ll just have to force our way out.”

Liz and Beto glared at one another, neither willing to give an inch. The air between them stretched taut.

It was Selvia who broke the silence. “And what will come of leading the Fourth Legion to battle?” she asked. “The enemy’s ranks have swollen to two hundred thousand. The Fourth Legion may be well trained, but adding only twenty thousand to the balance will not tip the scales. Would you have Lord Hiro’s sacrifice be for nothing?”

“But with his strategies, maybe we could turn the tables.”

“There is a chance, to be certain, but surely a slim one. Deep down, you already know the truth, Your Highness. Riding to his aid would accomplish nothing.”

Selvia’s words struck home. Liz’s lips pursed bitterly. Flames sprouted from Lævateinn in reflection of her frustration.

She cast her eyes about, looking for some straw to hold on to. “That’s right! Brutahl’s in Faerzen! If we can get word to him—”

“Third Prince Brutahl has been captured.” Selvia did not miss a beat.

“What?”

The exclamation came not from Liz, but from Aura. She stared at Selvia, eyes wide with rare surprise.

“His forces were routed by the queen of Anguis, one of the nations that make up Six Kingdoms. Following his defeat, many of the western nobles surrendered to the enemy.”

“We have to tell Hiro!” Liz cried.

Beto stepped in front of her to block her path. “He already knows.”

“Out of my way!”

“Lord Hiro already knows, Your Highness. He is the one who told us of Third Prince Brutahl’s capture.”

“No... He can’t...”

“He leads twenty thousand, as do you. That would only leave you with forty thousand in total, and even if that were enough, you would never make it to the battlefield in time. Now is the time to build your strength. Or do you have some master plan to conjure victory with the forces you have?”

“I... No, I don’t. But I have to go, or... Or...”

Or she would lose sight of him forever. Cold fear crawled between her toes and up her legs—fear that she had finally come close enough to reach out to him, only for him to slip forever beyond her grasp. Chills washed over her, as though she were sinking into icy water. She had no idea what was going on in his mind, and that unsettled her more than anything.

“I see...” Beto looked down, his thoughts inscrutable. “I now understand why Lord Hiro did not tell you the truth.” When he looked up again, whatever emotion had flashed in his eyes was gone.

Liz narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Beto raised a lazy hand. “That is what it means. Lord Hiro was correct when he wrote that you are too quick to let your emotions get the better of you. Passion is laudable, but once it becomes impulsiveness, it can turn quite disastrous.” He flatly enumerated Liz’s flaws. “He is prepared to sacrifice anything, even himself, so that you might grow stronger—because he wishes you to place the security of your nation first, and your personal feelings only second.”

He stopped and cupped his chin, thinking. A strange light glinted in his eyes. “But if that’s the case, one wonders how far he saw... Could it truly be...?”

Liz’s eyes hardened as she looked on, but Beto didn’t seem to notice. He seemed entirely contained in his own world. In a moment, the odd silence passed, and he abruptly looked back up, his expression alight with amusement.

“I do believe I have an idea, Your Highness. One that will allow you to ride to Lord Hiro’s aid and successfully repel Six Kingdoms.”

For an instant, Liz’s face came alive with hope, but a chill shot up her spine at the greed in Beto’s eyes. It seemed as though, for the first time, she had caught a glimpse of his true nature.

“However, there is a condition,” he continued. His presence turned unsettling, seeming to close like a hand around Liz’s throat. “If you pledge my son your hand in marriage, I will lend you my aid against Six Kingdoms. I can field thirty thousand men at short notice. More if you give me time.”

“And if I agree to that, you’ll help me?”

“Why, I would do anything for my son’s bride. There would be no shame in the arrangement. Political marriages are common in this day and age.”

“Wai— Mmph!”

Aura tried to step forward, only to find herself dragged back. Scáthach spun to free her, but her captor—Selvia—only laid a finger to her lips. Scáthach’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. She backed down and turned to Liz again with something like pleading in her gaze.

“Thank you for the offer.” Liz’s heart was set. There was no hesitation in her eyes. She flicked a strand of hair from her shoulder, planted her hands on her hips, and stared Beto down with naked displeasure. “I decline. What a ridiculous idea.”

Beto’s pupils shrank to points. He tilted his head in confusion. “I thought I warned you against letting your heart rule your head.”

Liz drew herself up. “An aspiring empress doesn’t bow to threats from her own subjects.”

Beto pressed his hands to his temples as though suppressing a headache. “If your would-be empire falls, there is no meaning in ruling at all.”

“Maybe so, but still, as a member of the Grantzian royal family, I cannot accept your offer.”

“And you are certain you have thought this through? Don’t you wish to aid Lord Hiro?”

“If I showed up to help him on the back of a deal like that, he’d be furious.”

Before Liz’s departure, Hiro had told her to walk the path she saw fit. She could not accede to forcible demands.

“Furious, hm? And for that reason, you would turn me down?” Beto scowled. “I confess, I see no sense in it.”

“I think it’s time to drop the pretense, dear,” his wife interrupted from behind him. “You have teased Her Highness quite enough. Any more might be politically unwise.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” With a crooked grin, Beto gestured for the soldiers to sheathe their weapons.

Selvia walked silently up to Liz and bowed her head. “Please forgive our rudeness, Lady Celia Estrella.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have no son, and our daughter is only two years old. My husband made his suggestion in jest, nothing more.”

“Did he? He seemed so much like he meant it...”

“You are decisive, Your Highness, and that is admirable, but it also leaves you vulnerable. I suggest you think matters over more thoroughly before drawing conclusions.” Selvia smiled even as she chided her. “But on this occasion, the greater fault is ours, so we will accept your wishes.”

Beto spun to look at his wife. “Dear! We did not discuss—”

“Is there a problem?”

A glare stopped him dead in his tracks. Silence fell between them for a long moment.

“Oh, very well.” Beto broke first. He lowered himself to one knee before Liz, a little hesitantly at first, but his expression quickly hardened with resolve. “All is ready. The southern nobles will ride to the empire’s aid in this time of crisis. To stand idly by as these western barbarians run amok would shame us in the eyes of our ancestors.”

“Pardon?” A shocked noise slipped from Liz’s mouth as she struggled to follow.

Again, it was Selvia who came to her rescue. “We had always intended to aid you, Your Highness. Such was our promise to Lord Hiro. A simple arrangement—or at least, it would have been, if my husband had not let his ambitions run away with him.”

Unbeknownst to Liz, Hiro had quietly struck a deal with the leaders of House Muzuk. Seeing that it was to their mutual profit, Beto had happily agreed. Their assistance had been promised from the start.

“I-I see...” Still confused, a flat reply was the best that Liz could muster.

“Consider our fifty thousand soldiers added to your train, Your Highness. Fear not, they will not take long to gather. They will be ready to ride in a week at most.”

“I thought you said thirty thousand?”

“As I mentioned, we have been making preparations ever since we came to our agreement with Lord Hiro. With the addition of the Fourth Legion, we shall have seventy thousand men—a ponderous force, to be certain, but more than enough to serve as reinforcements.”

For a moment, Liz was lost for words, but a smile spread across her face as understanding dawned. “Thank you for your generosity,” she said finally.

“We await your order, Your Highness.” Selvia sank to one knee, mirroring her husband. The soldiers and servants followed suit.

Liz collected herself with a throat-clearing cough, straightened her back, and raised a hand with her palm toward her audience. “Once we join forces with the Fourth Legion, we will take the fight to Six Kingdoms and drive them from the empire! Our numbers might be fewer, but any one of our soldiers is worth five of theirs. We are the lion of Soleil! I expect nothing less than victory!”

“Yes, Your Highness!” they replied with a resounding cry.

“I will ride ahead to Berg Fortress and see to our preparations. I will rejoin you later.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

By the time Beto raised his head, Liz was already walking away. He cracked a smile. The lioness was still a cub, but she was growing.

“Inspiring, isn’t she? What a shame that fate will not smile upon her efforts. Lord Hiro will be dead by the time she reaches him.” He rose to his feet, eyes still following Liz although she had vanished from view. “Too late by the narrowest of margins. Lord Hiro truly did account for everything. His loss will come as a heavy blow to the empire...although, as a rival, I admit my relief. Far better Lady Celia Estrella than him.”

“She will not be so easily controlled,” Selvia said.

Beto frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“There is strength in her. I have not met Lord Hiro, but I suspect she will grow to become an even greater thorn in our sides than he could ever be.”

“Sometimes I wonder whose side you’re on.” With an irritable wave, Beto summoned his aides. “Well, it matters not. For now, we will do as she bids.”

Selvia set a finger to her chin as she watched her husband depart. After a moment, she called a servant over.

The servant sank into a bow. “Yes, my lady?”

Selvia looked down with emotionless eyes. The corners of her mouth drew into a sly grin. Suddenly, her demeanor seemed very different.

“Some insurance wouldn’t go amiss. Send word to Countess von Kelheit,” she said, casting one final glance at her departing husband. “We women shall do as we please. The men may sit and watch.”

Finally, her expression became a beguiling smile worthy of her attire.

＊＊＊＊＊

Maruk, on the western edge of the central territories

Hiro’s twenty thousand made camp on the border between the central and western territories. From this vantage point, they could gather information on events in the west and scout out Six Kingdoms’ movements. They had no shortage of willing contributors: refugees from burned villages, nobles chased from their towns, soldiers routed in battle. Hiro had ordered his men to apprise him of every report, no matter how outlandish it seemed. Even now, another harried messenger rode toward the tent in the center of the camp. A black dragon banner fluttered above it with stately grace, filled with unbreakable conviction.

“Enemy scouts have been sighted three sel hence. Their banners confirm that they belong to the Second Punitive Legion. It matches the townsfolk’s reports.”

“The Fifth Punitive Legion has strayed a little from the rest. They have taken up position in the town of Selus while they plunder the nearby villages. That puts them twenty sel from here.”

“The Fourth Punitive Legion seems to know we’re here. They have deployed their forces on the Laryx Plains. Our scouts did not manage to ascertain their commander, but whoever they are, they have a love for battle.”

The interior of the tent bustled with figures coming and going. Sweat poured from the foreheads of the civil tribunes as they sorted through and organized the incoming data. Keeping up with the reports was an unimaginable task. Stacks of parchment piled ever higher on the central desk, higher even than the outgoing piles, leaving the central nobles attending to them clutching their heads in despair at the sheer scale of the undertaking.

At the head of the table, Hiro surveyed the mountain of parchment with an apprehensive gaze. He sighed and turned to the man at his side: Orlean von Maruk.

“The scale of the damage is greater than we thought,” he said.

“So it seems, Your Highness. It is hard to know where to begin.” With a solemn nod, von Maruk picked up a sheet of parchment. “The enemy has divided their troops into six parts. The central force stays behind, while the other five detachments carve a swathe through the west, offering mercy to those who accept them, the sword to those who resist, and terror to those in between.”

“Have we ascertained those rumors about Third Prince Brutahl’s execution?”

“They appear to be true. The western nobles are surrendering, one after another. It seems that his passing was all it took to break their spirits.” Unable to contain his contempt, Von Maruk struck the table with his fist. A loud thump rang through the tent. Silence fell for a moment. All eyes swiveled to stare at him, but a sharp glare quickly sent them back to their work.

Hiro gave the man a moment to collect himself as the clamor resumed. “Are there any who have not surrendered? Are some still choosing to fight?”

“Lord von Kirschia’s son has sent us a request for reinforcements. His position in the town of Severt is under siege by the Second Punitive Legion, and their losses are severe. As things stand, his defeat is only a matter of time.”

“His son sent the request?”

“It appears that Lord von Kirschia himself fell in battle with Six Kingdoms.”

“And where is this town?”

“One moment, Your Highness. I believe the report only just came in.” Von Maruk rifled through the pile of assessed reports and picked out the item in question. “Here. It is a little light on details, but not enough to pose a concern.”

“Could you lay out the Second Punitive Legion’s position on the map for me? The rest of their forces too. A general estimate will do.”

“At once, Your Highness.”

With the central table covered in reports, the map had been relegated to a second one behind Hiro. Von Maruk set about placing pawns. Hiro stood, turned, and stepped closer.

“The Second Punitive Legion is two days from our position,” von Maruk explained. “Closest from there is the Third. The Fourth has deployed its forces a little farther away.”

“And the nobles in the area have all surrendered?”

“I cannot speak to their hearts, but their actions are those of turncoats.”

“They’re not certainly acting like they expect to face consequences.”

“Nobody wants their lands ravaged, Your Highness. They have no choice but to prioritize their own safety. After the death of Third Prince Brutahl, I cannot blame them...but nor can I forgive them even so.”

“Is the Third Imperial City safe?”

“Its garrison is small, but its walls are thick. Six Kingdoms will struggle to take it with their forces scattered, and they have the most to lose from getting bogged down in a prolonged siege. For the time being, I cannot imagine they consider it a target.”

If Six Kingdoms intended to sweep into the central territories, the city would be better overlooked. Going out of their way to attack it would only cost them soldiers. Perhaps, in the long run, they meant to take it with minimal losses by starving it of nearby allies and forcing it to raise the white flag. Regardless...

“If it’s not in immediate danger, it’s not our concern.”

“Where now, Your Highness? Shall we make for the Third Imperial City and take refuge behind their walls?”

Hiro shook his head. “If Six Kingdoms will just ignore us, what’s the point? And if they do lay siege to us, we’ll be trapped in there. Besides, we’re trying to chase them from the western territories. We can’t accomplish that by hiding in one place. We should head for Severt and crush the Second Punitive Legion. Seeing as the enemy has been kind enough to split up, we can get by fighting them piecemeal.”

His plan involved trapping the Second Punitive Legion between two fronts, which would require sending word to Lord von Kirschia’s son inside the town.

“We will charge the enemy from behind. Could you instruct him to time a sortie with our offensive?”

“I cannot say how tight the enemy’s perimeter may be, but I shall send one of our finest agents.”

“It’s all right if they fail. If it can’t be done, I’ll think of something else. But let’s go with that for the time being.” Hiro returned to his chair and cast his gaze over the central nobles, who were still struggling valiantly with their stacks of reports. “Now, let’s decide who will do what.”

＊＊＊＊＊

Fort Hadria, on the northern border of the central territories

To a fort on the border between the central and northern territories came a curious host of five thousand. Goliaths to a man and clad in armor that concealed their faces, they made for an unsettling sight, marching without a word of chatter. Their banner only accentuated suspicions—two pointed horns on a lilac field, the same livery beneath which the zlosta had once plunged the world into chaos.

The garrison’s families peered out of their lodgings with unease as the force passed. The guards themselves, however, were surprisingly at ease. The reason was the host’s second flag, a white, one-horned horse on a lilac field. Once, it had belonged to Lox van Lebering of the Black Hand. Soldiers of the Grantzian Empire held nothing but reverence for the banner of the man who had served Mars.

“I see... Signed and sealed by Fourth Prince Hiro and Second Prince Selene.”

The captain of the guard accepted the letter and examined it for irregularities. Seeing that it was sealed by the royal family—and by two separate princes, no less—his stern expression broke into a smile. He bowed. “You may pass, Your Majesty. Welcome to the Grantzian Empire.”

“I apologize for taking up your time,” Claudia said. “Please forgive the impropriety. I am in something of a hurry.”

“Not at all, Your Majesty. To have laid eyes upon Lord Lox’s descendant is itself a blessing. One for which I must thank the Spirit King.”

Claudia flashed the captain a reassuring smile. With a nod of acknowledgment, she drove her heels into her horse’s flanks.

Rather improperly, he shouted after her as she rode away. “If you’ve want of lodgings, my mansion’s doors are open to you!”

“I fear I have no time to waste, but thank you for your generosity!”

She brought her horse around with a skillful hand and waved. Struck by the full force of her smile, the captain’s legs gave out and he collapsed onto his rear. She giggled before spurring her horse away to rejoin the head of her train.

“Your Majesty!” An aide rode up to her as she returned.

“What is it?”

“The messenger you dispatched to Lord Hiro has returned. It seems we were correct. The war is progressing poorly.”

“Is it, indeed...” Claudia set a finger to the point of her chin and lowered her eyes a shade.

The aide produced a letter from his pocket. “He returned with word from Lord Hiro.”

Claudia all but snatched the letter from the man’s hands. She began to chuckle under her breath as she read through the contents. “This may just be your boldest scheme yet,” she murmured, looking up at the sky. A smile spread across her face, like that of a lovestruck maiden. “So, you plot to fool the world and would sacrifice yourself to do it? My, you are a fearsome man indeed.”

The aide frowned, bemused, as his queen descended into a world of her own. “Are you certain it would be wise to continue cooperating with him? Would we not be better off breaking free from the empire and readying our forces for war?”

The suggestion was met with a frosty glare. If looks could kill, the aide would doubtless be dead. He quickly realized that he had spoken out of line.

“Apologies, Your Highness!” he stammered between frantic bows.

Claudia looked away and raised a hand to the sky. Violet crystal caught the sun’s light, refracting it into dazzling hues.

“Such shortsighted thinking would profit us little. Look at the larger picture—not at the tempting morsel before our noses, but at the hand that holds it out.” She closed her own hand into a fist and brought it down toward the imperial capital. “That is the only way we zlosta will survive, with no Lord to call our own.”

If they wished the sun to be theirs again, they would have to seize it with their own hands.

The aide’s brow remained furrowed.

“You seem unconvinced,” Claudia said.

He hesitated to reply, fearful of offending her mood.

“If you think me a despot who does not heed the advice of her subjects, leave this instant and do not return. If not, do your duty as my retainer and tell me where I am mistaken.”

“I-If you insist, Your Majesty... We do not have the numbers to contest Six Kingdoms. As the situation stands, would they not make better allies than the empire?”

Claudia had expected a more substantial argument. She gave an exasperated sigh. “They would turn us into their puppets. Better an ally that owes us much than an ally that owes us little. If Lebering is to grow, it only stands to lose from a union with Six Kingdoms.”

“But if Lord Hiro is defeated, will they not conquer us anyway?”

“To put it bluntly, we would not be worth their time. A frozen, far-flung wasteland, poor in resources and far to the east—such a place has no value to them.” Denigrating her own nation stung fiercely, but it would convince her aide, as well as rousing his indignation into the bargain. “But if we were to ally with them, they would use us for their own purposes and annex us. We would be no better off than under the empire. Would you have our people be slaves again?”

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”

Claudia smiled to see the aide fall silent. “And so I choose to ally with Lord Hiro. Through Six Kingdoms, the world shall know that the zlosta have once more risen in Soleil.”

Moreover, Hiro had offered very favorable terms. If she sided with the empire, he would give her what she sought—something that Six Kingdoms could never offer.

“Understood, Your Highness. I will do as you bid. Forgive me for wasting your time with my foolishness.”

“Think nothing of it. If any more doubts strike you, I will always be willing to assuage them.”

Claudia craned her head back and narrowed her eyes. A seductive smile spread across her face. Now that the throne was hers, she would not suffer the zlosta to be chased back into the shadows. They would live in the sun, even if that meant letting history call her a fool.

“Although, one does wonder...”

The final, cryptic line of Hiro’s letter flashed through her mind. All will be one. Knowing him, it doubtless held some profound significance, but she could not begin to guess what.

“I suppose I shall find out once I see him.”

At that point, he would already have the gift he had promised her. Such had been the terms of their agreement. She would not be leading her army south otherwise.

“It seems there will be a great deal of excitement in the near future. Who can say what delights the coming age might hold?”

It took all of her willpower to hold back a smile at the thought of the turmoil to come.

＊＊＊＊＊

The sixth day of the second month of Imperial Year 1024

The news came not long past daybreak. Hardly an hour had passed since the sun had risen. Only a handful of soldiers had begun their morning training, and Six Kingdoms’ encampment was quiet enough that one could hear their own footsteps.

A woman strode through the camp in her smallclothes. Her steps were sure and unashamed, as though she had absolute confidence in her own body. The soldiers averted their eyes as she passed, intimidated into silence. If asked to name the most extravagant woman in Six Kingdoms, none would hesitate to give her name: Lucia Levia du Anguis, queen of Anguis and commander of the Punitive Army.

Her footsteps rang loud with irritation as she stormed into the command tent. The camp aides were already present, as were the Vulpes siblings. They rose and bowed as one as they registered her entrance. Several faces reddened at her manner of dress, but her nigh-spellbinding allure kept their eyes trained on her whether they wanted to look away or not. Lustful gazes held no more significance to her than pebbles by the roadside. They could harbor whatever passions they wished; she was so far above them, they could not even hope to address her outside of the strict confines of strategy meetings.

“At ease,” she commanded, surveying the room with a glower. She had been sleeping deeply, and had not taken well to having been woken. The seated aides lowered their gazes fearfully. Only the Vulpes siblings and Seleucus seemed unruffled.

Igel clasped his hands behind his head and leered. “Nice getup. Lookin’ for some attention, huh?”

Lucia glared back, not with embarrassment but with cold contempt. “Would you prefer your death to be quick or slow?”

Igel hurriedly straightened. Every hair on his body stood on end. Great beads of sweat trickled from his forehead as the gravity in the tent seemed to grow twice as heavy. One of the nobles issued a groan.

Luka rose to her feet. “Please forgive my foolish brother’s insolence. He only sought to bring some levity to the proceedings.”

“Oh, very well. I care little. Make with your reports.” Lucia waved a dismissive hand, no longer interested. The air of palpable threat finally dispersed.

Seleucus stood up from his seat. “Allow me to summarize the situation.”

He placed a pawn on the map, marking the location of the Second Punitive Legion. Lucia regarded him inquisitively, her forehead creasing.

“The War God’s scion has struck in earnest,” he announced.

Lucia’s eyes gleamed with fascination. The rest of the table looked dumbfounded. In no time at all, the command tent was in an uproar.

“Is this true, Lord Seleucus?”

“Surely not. His reinforcements could not have arrived so quickly. It’s impossible!”

“It is true,” Seleucus said. “I have received word that the Second Punitive Legion has been routed.”

“Routed?!” one of the aides cried. “How?!”

The exclamation sent a ripple of shock through the tent.

“Why is their defeat the first we’re hearing of this?”

“What have our scouts been doing? Touring the Travant Mountains?!”

“Hush with all this weeping and wailing.” Lucia thumped the table, bringing the clamor to order. She cast a glare around the tent. “Seleucus, explain.”

“As you are all surely aware, the Second Punitive Legion was laying siege to the town of Severt. It appears the empire caught them unawares. Imperial forces attacked under cover of night and seemingly had little difficulty striking from behind. At the same time, the lord of Severt issued a sortie, catching them in a pincer. The officers perished, confusion spread, and the legion was wiped out.”

“How could they possibly have been caught in so obvious a trap?”

“It appears that the nearby settlements offered them tributes, Your Majesty. They had gorged themselves on drink.”

Lucia sighed. “I hardly know what to say.”

“It also seems the lord of Severt sent the commander several letters praising his character. One might surmise that they went to his head.”

Lucia laughed coldly. “And where is this commander now?” She looked angry enough to kill the man with her own two hands.

Seleucus continued reading, unperturbed. “We don’t know, Your Majesty. Perhaps he has been captured, or perhaps he perished on the field.”

“If he does happen to make his way back to our camp, bring him before me. I should very much like to choke the life from him myself.” Lucia’s fan slapped her palm rhythmically as she breathed deep, collecting her thoughts. “Those tributes were the Lord of Eld’s work, I don’t doubt. What fool would fall for such a ruse in wartime? From which kingdom did he hail?”

“Vulpes, Your Majesty. Do you recall General Leukigmov?”

“Oh, him. He is one of ours. So, he fell face-first into a trap, did he?” Igel covered his face with a hand, his broad shoulders shuddering with indignation. “We’ll never live this one down...”

Beside him, Luka raised a hand. “We shall restore our homeland’s honor by slaying this scion of Mars ourselves. What are the enemy’s numbers, Lord Seleucus?”

“Now that they have absorbed the forces of the local nobility, they exceed thirty thousand.”

“Then fifty thousand ought to suffice. May we have permission to ride, Your Majesty?”

“You may not. I do not begrudge you your revenge, but if this is another of the Lord of Eld’s schemes, you will be riding to your deaths.”

“We cannot let this shame go unanswered.”

“’Tis for the best that you do. Overconfidence in numbers breeds the same complacency that undid the Second Punitive Legion. A single oversight can turn the tables. Such is the way of war.”

“We don’t make oversights!” Igel smashed his chair against the ground. Pieces of wood flew off and struck several of the aides. They slumped over, knocked clean unconscious. He stepped forward, crushing the wreckage beneath his feet. “Your Majesty, I’m beggin’ you here. Leave this one to us.”

A vein throbbed in his forehead. He forced his mouth into a semblance of a smile, marshaling all of his good sense not to swing at her there and then.

“You would do well to learn some patience. Unless you truly wish to pit yourself against me?” Lucia motioned for the fallen aides to be taken to the medical tent before returning her attention to Igel. A venomous smile spread across her face. “If that would cool your head, all the better.”

Igel hesitated. “That’s not what I...”

“Then hush with this mewling. Satisfy yourself that twenty thousand was the extent of our losses. One hundred and eighty thousand remain hale. If we lash out blindly, we will only lose more.” Lucia stood and gestured to the map with her fan. “Besides, my plans are already laid.” She crushed the Second Punitive Legion’s pawn and picked up another nearby. “The Third Punitive Legion is now the closest to the Lord of Eld, correct?”

Seleucus nodded.

“Have them clash twice or thrice with his men before falling back. Instruct the other three legions to retreat and rejoin our ranks with all haste.”

“You mean to bait the enemy?”

“Indeed. Tell the Third that they are not to stand their ground. Their role is to goad the enemy’s advance. Should they be defeated, the surrendered nobles of the western territories may begin to rediscover their courage. I repeat, they must not stand their ground, only bait our foe deeper.”

“Then what of us?” Luka asked, caressing her scowling brother’s head.

“Rest. Conserve your strength. Think only of striking down the Lord of Eld.” Lucia proceeded to instruct the army to redirect its supply lines and temporarily disband its core.

“Now, Your Majesty?” Seleucus seemed one step short of calling her demand foolish. “A change of officers we could manage, but dissolving and reforming every unit will disrupt our chain of command.”

Lucia’s nose wrinkled. “That is the point. ’Tis a ploy, Seleucus. I would have the enemy believe our forces are confused. Spread word far and wide that our ranks are in disarray, that there is bad blood between the Vulpes siblings and me—whatever rumors you can think of.”

She would lure the Lord of Eld far to the west, where he could not escape. The bait might be obvious, but if she withdrew her forces, he would have no choice but to pursue. Freed from the threat of Six Kingdoms’ rule, many of the western nobles would join forces with him—and that would be his final undoing, the detonation of a time bomb long since laid.

“If there are no more questions, pray attend to your duties.”

In a flurry of footsteps, her aides and subordinates surged out of the tent. In the midst of the chaos, she held one man back.

“Let us speak a moment, Igel.”

“Huh? Why? My sister’s gonna be mad if I take too long.”

“You care for her ever so much, don’t you? Fear not. This will take but a moment.” Lucia turned her attention to the glittering blue crystal embedded in Igel’s left hand. Her eyes gleamed like those of a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me—would you be willing to die for your sister?”

＊＊＊＊＊

Severt, in the center of the western territories

After relocating his camp, Hiro once again set about gathering reports on Six Kingdoms. The command tent was busy with aides and nobles. In the aftermath of the Second Punitive Army’s defeat, prisoners needed to be sent away, arms and armor checked for damage, and a revised supply budget drawn up to account for the new additions to the army. Messengers came and went in a ceaseless current; the scouts’ reports on the enemy troops’ movements, camp security, and supply line locations were prioritized. Accounts of the status of the roads or the discovery of bandit camps or monster lairs were passed on to western nobles with few soldiers of their own, who had been relegated to backline support. Anything they could not deal with themselves was to be reported back to the central territories.

“There’s movement from the Fourth Punitive Legion on the Laryx Plains.” Von Maruk approached Hiro with a sheaf of paper in his hand. “They must have gotten word of the Second’s defeat.”

“I see. Increase the guard and tell them to stay vigilant. It’s likely we’ll come under attack. More importantly, what are our losses?”

“In detail, Your Highness?”

“In brief will do.”

“In that case, light. Three hundred cavalry and a thousand infantry. With the western nobles and their soldiers joining our ranks, we now number thirty thousand.”

“Just as we had hoped.”

“Indeed, Your Highness. I do have one concern, however.”

Orlean held out his report. Hiro took it and read it through. It listed the names of the nobles who had died in combat.

“It seems several central nobles perished in battle—if indeed that is the appropriate expression.”

“It says they were all killed by stray arrows.”

“Our arrows, no less. Two or three I could believe were a coincidence, but seven? That is the work of enemy assassins in our ranks.”

“Increase camp security. I’d prefer to let the men have all the sleep they can get, but needs must.”

“At once, Your Highness.”

“Morale isn’t suffering, I hope?”

Von Maruk patted his chest reassuringly. “Fear not, Your Highness. Our victory over the Second Punitive Army has the soldiers in high spirits, as does our rescue of Severt.”

“Then we can move forward with the next stage of our plans.”

The enemy’s scattered forces were contracting again. All was going as anticipated. Still, for some reason, von Maruk’s forehead was slick with nervous sweat.

“With respect, Your Highness, will it truly benefit us to have the foe gather in one place?”

“It’s true they’ll be more resilient grouped up than split apart, but having too many men on the battlefield comes with its own disadvantages. Without a clear chain of command, they’ll be no better than an angry mob. If we can take advantage of that, numbers won’t matter.”

“I see. Certainly, we have received reports to that effect.”

Apparently, there had been some sort of disagreement between the army’s commander and acting commander. Moreover, the former, perhaps suspicious of the force they had taken over, had dissolved the entirety of the core force and reformed it to their liking. Considering that they were also retracting their punitive legions, the chain of command would undoubtedly be in chaos.

They’re responding more or less how I expected.

Hiro’s smile grew wider. Time to eliminate one of the last ambiguities. He strode over to the map behind him. “Let’s talk about what we do next.”

He picked up a pawn and cast a sidelong glance at von Maruk. The man silently nodded, indicating to him to continue.

“We will leave the western nobles who have joined us in charge of the central cohort. They have already bent the knee to Six Kingdoms once. Placing them in the vanguard would risk them causing chaos in the ranks.”

The stain of defeat was not one that came out. Terror, once taught, only grew in reflection. If such men went to battle, it was not difficult to guess what would ensue.

Commanders with such low morale should be sent to the back lines.

If the battle ahead had been a trivial one, there would be no harm in stationing them at the front and letting them claim an easy victory. That would rebuild both their morale and their confidence. This time, however, the fight was hopeless from the start, to the point that many of the soldiers were quietly questioning their officers’ judgment.

At least annihilating the Second Punitive Legion remedied that a little.

Thanks to that victory, there were no longer any issues with Hiro’s own soldiers. Still, the same could not be said of the western nobles’ battered troops. They had already been broken utterly. A few might burn with vengeance, but not enough to set the whole force alight. That raised a question: why incorporate them into the army at all?

Now, Orlean, how will you respond?

Anything clear enough to confirm his suspicions would be welcome.

“I think that’s a fine idea.” Von Maruk seemed enthused by the prospect. “Another stroke of genius, Your Highness.”

Hiro’s heart fell cold. A violent impulse surged through him. He managed to maintain his calm, but abyssal dark swirled in his eyes.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. The same will apply to any western nobles who join us between now and the battle.”

The war with Six Kingdoms had put him ill at ease since its beginning. Now, he had finally managed to pin down a portion of why. At last, he had confirmation. For a while, he had not been quite certain, but now he could put his plans in place without issue.

“We will position the central nobles in the vanguard and leave the rearguard to the lesser nobles. I will lead from the front.”

Von Maruk broke into a grin. “I should be honored to fight alongside you.”

Hiro’s smile was bone-chilling. “I couldn’t have asked for a more reliable vice-commander.” He turned and made his way toward the entrance. “We depart in two days. I trust you can take care of the rest.”

“Where are you going, Your Highness?”

“I’m going to get some rest tonight.”

“Very well. I will ensure that all is ready when you wake.”

Hiro waved over his shoulder, sensing von Maruk bow behind him, and passed through the tent flap. Winter held the outside world in its grip, its breath cold enough to freeze the skin. With the Black Camellia’s protection, however, the chill felt no worse than a balmy spring breeze.

As he walked in silence through the night, his feet came to a stop, and he looked up.

“Some things never change, even after a thousand years.”

A starry sky spread out above him. The full moon and its court of stars held sway over the night, showering the land with light.

“Who was it who told me that the stars are the souls of the departed?”

When people die, they become spirits, and when they become spirits, their souls turn into stars. From up in the sky, they watch over the world forever at the Spirit King’s side. So whenever we’re feeling sad, or scared, or lonely, we only need to look up at the stars, and we’ll know we’re not alone.

“Ah, that’s right. It was Liz.”

When had that been? On the night they camped on Mount Himmel? Everything had been such a whirlwind, it was all he could do to keep track. Now his memories were growing confused.

“I remember how happy I felt, though. It was like I could really hear your voice.”

But the warmth of her embrace and the gentle touch of her compassion were gone now. He raised a hand to the sky, as if yearning for bygone days.

“I’ve made my choice. I was scared of this path a thousand years ago. I wound up running away like a coward in the end.”

He lowered his eyes sadly. The fingers of his right hand brushed his eyepatch. With Liz and the rest of his allies far away, there was no more need to hide what lay beneath.

“I still don’t know if it’s the right one. But I’ll walk it now.”

The eyepatch lifted away to reveal an eye dark with grief.

“This is my road. I will surpass everyone in arrogance, in strength, and at last, in royalty.”

And to do it, I will devour the world.

“It’s a shame I’ll never get to see the person Liz becomes...”

He allowed himself a small smile, tinged with regret, gone in an instant. A ghastly visage appeared in its place, as though emerging from the depths of the abyss.

“I will bring this age to an end. This world needs a new legend.”

The words sounded like a prayer on his lips.

He resumed his stride—silent, strong, radiating undiluted bloodlust. The insects fell silent, the wind’s howl grew ragged. All sound vanished from the world.

“And if I have to sacrifice myself to do it, I will.”

He ducked through the entrance to his tent and looked around, scanning the interior. His gaze halted on a man, kneeling with head bowed.

“I have awaited your coming, Lord Hiro.”

Behind the man’s back, a bound figure was seated on a chair. His mouth was stuffed with rags to prevent him from screaming. Hiro stepped closer and looked down at the bowing man.

“Fine work. I appreciate you dispatching the central nobles as well.”

“I fear there was one we failed to slay, my lord. My apologies.”

“None necessary. I see you brought them to me anyway.”

Hiro’s eyes flicked to the seated figure deeper in. He was screaming with all his might, but the rags binding his mouth turned it into an unintelligible series of bestial grunts.

“How many of you are there?”

“A dozen, my lord. Myself included.”

Before commencing his plans, Hiro had negotiated with Claudia for her assistance. She had cheerfully accepted, seeing that their interests aligned, and been more than happy to supply him with the resources he requested. One of them was the assassin kneeling before him now. The man’s skills were quite satisfactory. He projected the air of a seasoned killer.

“I bring a letter from Her Majesty.”

Hiro took the envelope and drew a nearby chair closer to read it. The corners of his mouth pulled into a grin as he skimmed the contents.

“Good. It seems like everything’s going smoothly.”

He stood, giving the letter a flick, and headed to the writing desk in the corner of the tent. He picked up a pen and began to write something down, glancing at the map as he wrote.

“Could you dispose of him?” He directed the pen at the bound noble without looking up. “Sorry to ask after you went to the trouble of bringing him here, but I’ve already got what I needed. There’s nothing to gain from torturing him.”

The exchange in the command tent had been proof enough. Orlean von Maruk was allied with Six Kingdoms, or possibly Orcus. Either way, he was a traitor.

“I wonder how he’ll react when yet another aide goes missing. Will he start to worry for his safety, or will he only see an opportunity?”

It would be nice if he suspected the assassins’ presence in the camp. At least that would fill him with some modicum of terror.

Hiro sighed, deep and regretful. His pen stopped on the page and he took a new sheaf.

You will sit the throne, Liz. Of that I’m sure.

He hadn’t managed to clear away every obstacle in her path, but the support of Rosa and her other allies would take care of the rest. The political struggle would harden her heart, until at last she obtained an iron will worthy of an empress.

And then you’ll need to gather your strength for the fight to come.

At times, she would falter. At times, she would be driven to tears. Still, she would persevere and overcome, he knew. Sadness made people grow. Anger filled them with strength. Joy brought them fulfillment.

May your hopes bloom in full splendor.

Hiro laid the pen on the desk and cast a glance back at Claudia’s assassin. “There’s something I’d like you to help me with.”

“I am yours to command, my lord.” The assassin nodded meekly, although there was no disguising the way his voice trembled at Hiro’s dreadful presence.