Fortia saw the news and shook her head. She gazed over at her spear. She heard her men outside talking amongst themselves. And she sighed heavily. Her and Maisara had tried once. There was nothing else to say. They had given Arda everything they had. Maisara had given her life, Fortia had given every ounce of effort and exertion she could possibly muster up. What more was there to do? Was there anything she could try and accomplish? Fortia knew there was a great deal of blame that could be laid at her feet, but one thing she would not accept is anyone saying she had not tried.

Arascus had succeeded in giving Arda had been given its freedom. The Pantheon had maintained peace for a millennia. Freedom’s first directive was throwing that precious peace away. Arika and Epa were not conquered, they had both willingly accepted Arascus’ leadership. Fortia sighed as the little amount of positivity she had still left for humanity whispered in her mind: both Epa and Arika had been coerced to serve.

There was some truth in that. Fortia could not deny it. But she could not deny the hard facts of the matter either. Nations on both continents were falling in line. There was fear of Kassandora’s Legions, but that was not all. If it was, then it would be easy to start insurgencies in Arascus’ Empire. No. Most of its citizens wanted to be part of that great nation. Fortia caught her own thoughts, inspected them for a moment, and let them wander on.

Ultimately, there was no other way to describe it as anything but great. Kirinyaa had gone through centuries of stagnation, of losing land to the jungle and of economic malaise: Arascus and Kassandora had turned the situation around in one year. Doschia? A nation deindustrializing, with economic crisis after economic crisis, it was an economy that should have been one of the most major players in the world. White Pantheon policy had left Doschia to its own devices and Doschia struggled to do much even in Epa. Lubska? An Epan breadbasket that produced grain and grain and grain. It was obvious looking at it in hindsight, of course Lubska would eventually grow to demand more than just being Epa’s wheatfield.

And Arascus came, and Arascus built and gave. He tore down those who stood against him, but he pulled those by his side to heights that had been deemed impossible. On one hand, he was everything the White Pantheon stood against: Domineering and aggressive and demanding and able to be downright tyrannical in his judgements. On the other, Fortia wished he had led the White Pantheon during the Era of Pantheon Peace. It would have not been called the Era of Pantheon Peace, Fortia was sure of it, but an Era of Ardan Glory did not sound bad at this point.

The Goddess of Peace turned off the news and rolled back onto her bed as she hid her face in her pillows to take her mind off Maisara’s death. Sleep would help. Sleep should help. Nightmares at least passed by quickly. Out here, there was nothing that sped up the passing of time. Sometimes, talking made time pass faster but Fortia had no one to talk to.

Arascus sat across the table from Tasaidien as the God of Alanktyda stared watched the whirlpool on the phone screen. The sea split apart as if it was a mountain being drilled. The drill’s destination was reached, the ocean floor and the web of bubbles and pipes without rhyme or reason. A city belong to Uriamel. Ten words were said, Arascus could not hear them, but he saw ten brilliantly white explosions suddenly appear in a circle and combine into one star. The whirlpool suddenly halted. The sea rushed in. It bubbled and splashed and water shot upwards, but it was done. An hour from now, the only sign left that anything had happened here would be the boiling heat left behind by Olephia’s Curse.

Tasaidien and Arascus looked at each for a short moment. Waves beat against the beat. The ships of the Imperial navy were in the distance. A few mermen and mermaids were watching from deeper in the water. Wind rustled through jungle trees. Birds flew above them. The video crackled in between the two Gods.

Arascus turned the feed off and presented a piece of paper to the God of Alanktyda. “Uriamel has sent me a peace treaty already.” Arascus covered the main points quickly. “With no financial compensation for Kirinyaa’s losses. No price to pay for the lives Kirinyaa gave and no materials to assist in the rebuilding of its coast. They also have the gall to demand payment from me, and they want to continue their shipping dues for sending vessels across one of the largest oceans on this planet.”

Arascus tore the paper straight down the middle. “They were given one treaty already, a total detachment and breaking of support from the Pantheon along with an abolishment of the Uriamel Toll.” Arascus shook his head. “They denied the treaty, it will not be sent again. Elassa and Olephia will go from city to city until they meet the demands of today and not the treaties of yesterday. We will not be as generous as we were.”

Arascus pulled another piece of paper out. This one for Tasaidien, Arascus had even made sure the paper was waterproof so that Tasaidien could keep it: ‘Alanktydan – Imperial Peace terms.’

“Cessation of support to the White Pantheon from Alanktyda.”

“Ceasefire with the Epan Coalition.”

“Mutual Support on the Development of the Imperial Navy.”

“God Tasaidien, Of Alanktyda, formally disavows and leaves the White Pantheon.”

“Alanktyda issues a complete and total embargo on all White Pantheon entities.”

“Alanktyda and the Empire will sign a mutual guarantee, promising to come to each other’s support if any of their own entities come under attack.”

“A mandatory obligation of five years of support in Epan Logistics, or until the vessels lost during the Epan War are rebuilt and the nations of Allia, Rancais, Doschia, Rilia and Lubska can once again independently handle their own imports by sea. Whichever comes sooner. Alanktyda will receive payment for this obligation.”

Arascus read them out loud and then handed the paper to Tasaidien. It was as merciful as he could get. There was no financial obligations, no loss of territory, not even any hostages were to be handed over from Alanktyda. The work obligation was even paid for. Arascus saw Tasaidien’s eyes read it several times in disbelief. “Is this it?” The oceanic God asked, his voice nervous. The man’s eyes kept on flashing back to the phone as if he was trying to rewatch the video he had just seen.

“That is it.”

“You write payment here? That we will receive it?” Tasaidien phrased the words in sheer disbelief. Arascus nodded.

“The war was not against me, it was against Epa.” The God of Pride leaned back. “We have no qualms between each other as of now. Epa needs support to prevent starvation amongst its populace. You have a workforce, I just saw the obvious solution. I do not care whether you do the work out of the good of your heart.” Arascus made his tone as patronizing as possible. In actuality, he did very much care, that was the worst thing that could happen. But phrasing it in any other way would make the man even more suspicious if he wasn’t already. “But I do not want to brew bad blood between us. Your people lost a war they should have never been part of. The Imperial Treasury will cover payments if the Epans refuse to negotiate.” Helenna would very well make sure that there would be a few shipping companies in each nation ready to negotiate.

If Helenna found the Epans particularly troublesome, then a few lucky men will be found and given the resources needed to start their own logistics firms and ports, and then they will happily pay Alanktyda. Arascus wondered if Tasaidien saw the goal, he doubted it though. The fact that the God on the other side of the table was baffled by the words and unable to see it immediately said that he simply did not even consider the consequences of the payments.

It was a new style of conquest, one that was so insidious even Arascus himself was proud of it for thinking up of it. The goal wasn’t to open up Alanktyda’s economy or anything like that. That could be solved with mere trade deals, the goal was to spin the Imperial and Alanktydan economy so tightly together that the latter could do nothing but march in line. It was a dependence that did not rely on the ideas of rulers or the whims of Divines. “You are going to pay us for helping clean up the damage we caused?” Ah. Arascus understood what the man had issue with.

“The ones around us who truly cannot forgive are few in number. I am not one of them Tasaidien. I can offer redemption much like you can.” Arascus didn’t know if Tasaidien could or not, but people always liked being buttered up in dealings.

“Just like this though?”

Arascus did not answer the question, he commanded an answer in the same way a “Like I said, I do not consider this your war. Whether you think I am underestimating you or whether you think me stupid for it, I do not care. This is not your war Tasaidien. This is a war between the Empire and the White Pantheon. I do not hold Alanktyda responsible for it.” Arascus cut that line of dialogue off. He could not extend more of an olive branch than this. Tasaidien wasn’t stupid, at least Arascus thought the man wasn’t. He should be able to see it.

Tasaidien considered everything for a few moments, Arascus’ faith paid off. “Very well Arascus. I appreciate the gesture.” Arascus merely returned with a nod as Tasaidien went up the list. “Here, this mutual guarantee is effectively a military alliance.”

Well, it was on the nose, wasn’t it? Even a child would be able to see it. “I do not think your people, nor mine, will want an alliance with someone they just fought against. It’s a treaty of guarantee for me and for you.”

Tasaidien smiled wryly. “I do not think anyone will attack us. This is merely us guaranteeing you.”

Arascus already had a strategy prepared. It was going to be one that hopefully Tasaidien wasn’t used to: pure honesty. “I want a peace guarantee for my own safety, because even if you break it, it will be difficult for you to convince your people to attack someone who you were just guaranteeing.” It was true, but Arascus saw Tasaidien’s eyes work through the work. The Gods’ brow furrowed, his dark hair swayed in the wind. A wave crashed on the beach. A plane drew a long white line of clouds in the sky, heading in the direction of the UNN, from Arika.

Arascus knew what the man was thinking about. What he said was true, even if Tasaidien broke the treaty, they would have at least a week or a month to prepare for the inevitable war declaration that followed it. But the point worked both ways. Tasaidien saw it, he relaxed, he smiled. “Very well, that works for me.”

“And it works for me.” Arascus pulled his hand over the paper. “Anything else you wish to discuss?” Covering the bases now would make it more difficult for Tasaidien to actually try and pull away from the deal later, especially if the man knew what he was getting into.

“Mutual support on the navy?”

“A joint development project in Elassa’s Sea.” Arascus thought this one would be an issue. But it needed to happen for the same reason the payments needed to happen: Alanktyda needed to be integrated into the surface world, it could not forever remain as the Kingdom of the Depths. The mermen would assist in the designs and an expert would be placed in communications with them; most likely one of the generals. It was one thing to know of an enemy’s battle-tactics, but they must have supply lines and logistics routes and everything and anything else that went into an army. “That is all. I want a navy.”

Tasaidien raised an eyebrow. “And what for exactly?”

“To siege Guguo and Ihon and Pichqasuyu.” Arascus said. “Trust me, it is not to attack you. The best thing a weapon can be is secret. If we wanted to attack you, this conversation would never be happening.” Tasaidien sat on the other side of the table for a long time. Wind swept across the two Gods on the beach. Birds squawked from overhead. A pair of dolphins played in the water. The trees once again rustled in the breeze.

Arascus gave the man all the time in world.

Eventually, the question that Arascus knew that had to be asked was going to be asked. “And if I refuse?” Tasaidien’s words were slow and cautious, as if he had already made up his mind and now was just covering all his bases. Arascus knew he caught him hook, line and sinker, that was apt for a God who resided underwater.

“If you refuse, then I will tear this paper up.” Arascus said. “You will receive another one, which will not be so generous when Elassa and Olephia get done with the next city. And then again. And again.” Arascus made his tone hard. “The question of Uriamel’s surrender is not one of if, it is one of when? When Uriamel surrenders, Elassa and Olephia will head over to you.”

“Ah…” Tasaidien said.

Arascus leaned forward to tap the paper. “This is a treaty, this is not a list of demands. The demands will be made when sunlight reaches your cities and when Elassa and Olephia are above you.” Arascus crossed his arms and leaned back. A few beads of sweat appeared on Tasaidien’s forehead.

“This really is it?”

“This is the first treaty. The Goddess of Love wrote it. The Goddess of Hatred will revise it. I make the demands.” Those were lines entirely, Arascus wrote all the dealings when it came to these things. But the statement did have weight.

And Tasaidien was caught like a fish in a barrel. “There is no need for revisions Arascus. This is enough. Alanktyda agrees to all of them.” Arascus took a deep breath and extended his arm for Tasaidien to shake. This shake was the foot in the door. Arascus contained his laugh: maybe foot in the water was more apt.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep