Chapter 1155: New Coalition

With a satisfied smile, Leon ran his hands over his bedmate’s body. She purred in delight at his touch, reveling in how much he desired her. He didn’t do much more than that, however, their actions over the previous night having sufficiently slaked his thirst, but that didn’t stop him from just one more indulgence.

She returned the favor, feather-light touches exploring every defined line and muscle of his body. She lingered along his abs and chest until Leon pulled her close and nuzzled into her light brown hair.

Lake blue eyes met his golden gaze as she raised her comely face upward, brushing her lips against his. Maia smiled as she pushed herself closer, almost enveloping him in her embrace as much as he was enveloping her.

But as much heat as he could see in her eyes, as much as they both would’ve loved to continue indulging in the pleasures they could offer each other, they parted only a moment later.

“How’re your girls?” Leon whispered.

“The river is mine again,” Maia gently replied. “From the coast to the first main fork, my nymphs have taken complete control over the river system.”

Leon nodded. The cities of the Far West knew the river system that flowed from the Finger Lakes south along the mountains and through the Artor Valley as the Southcourse. Leon, however, thought that the river deserved a different name. He intended to make the Far West his foothold in the Nexus, and from here, his Kingdom would return to the Void and attempt to regain the old holdings of the Thunderbird Clan. He wasn’t going to let the river flowing through the capital city of such a Kingdom be dictated by anyone other than himself.

Deciding on the right name wasn’t easy, however. He had quietly run through many different possibilities, needing several days to settle on one he liked. Eventually, inspiration came when he took flight in Thunderbird form to enjoy the feeling of Mir’s chaotic wind flowing through his feathers. He’d landed by the deep spring beside which the Stormborn acorn had been planted and looked at his reflection. The crest of blue feathers on his head had caught his eye, and in that moment, he settled on the name ‘Blue Feather River’.

“How have they been doing since the Ocean fuckwits retreated?” Leon quietly asked. The nymphs had largely taken over the river to the south of the valley when they’d arrived, but they had been forced to return to the valley when Terris’ forces made that area their base camp. As far as he knew, the river nymphs were more interested in moving upriver than down now, despite Terris’ retreat.

Maia sighed as she snuggled into the crook of Leon’s shoulder. “My girls are strong and are enduring this time of hardship. They’ll forget all about these times in a few years, once more people have settled these lands and finding mates becomes easy.”

Leon grinned. “Mating sure does wonders for stress,” he said, squeezing her toned butt as he did.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, human,” Maia warned. “You don’t leave this bed until I’m done.”

“You dare speak that way to your King?!” Leon cried in faux outrage as he slapped the same derriere he’d just lovingly grasped.

Maia shrieked in delight as she swung a leg over Leon’s midsection and straddled him. It seemed that despite their mutual satisfaction, another round was on the table…

… until Elise came into the room, an amused smile spreading across her face. “What I wouldn’t give to dive between you two right now,” she whispered, causing both of them to pause a moment. “But work comes first. Leon, my love, we have guests…”

From her tone, Leon could already guess what kind of guests they had, but he asked anyway, “Guests of what sort?”

Elise grimaced. “The sort that’s keeping me from that bed,” she replied.

Leon sighed and reluctantly parted from Maia, leaving the pouting river nymph to moan in displeasure as he slipped from the sheets. He felt Elise’s eyes rake over his body, and for that reason, he took his time cleaning himself up with water magic and clothing himself in a simple blue tunic and pants, the tunic trimmed in bright silver, and accompanied Elise out of the bedroom.

Maia, to the surprise of neither, chose to remain in bed.

As they met with Elise’s handmaidens and several of Leon’s secretaries, including Gaius, outside of their private quarters, Leon asked, “So, who, precisely, has come? And why didn’t we hear anything about them until just now?”

“They arrived quickly,” Elise explained. “And by the time their presence was known, you were already disposed. Had they come in threatening numbers, I would’ve come and informed you sooner.”

Leon nodded, the knot of displeasure in his chest loosening slightly.

“They’re led by an Azadan from Shatufan,” Elise further explained, and Leon’s guard went up. “They brought some other nobles from other cities, too.”

“Did Manuchehr finally make his move?” Leon wondered aloud.

“I haven’t heard from Icarius, so I can’t say yet,” Elise stated. “But they’re certainly not here to make a great declaration of friendship.”

“Anyone in particular that I should be aware of?” Leon asked.

Elise glanced at Gaius, who swiftly replied, “Two. The first is a delegate from Rolor’s Highcastle. A cousin of the King, she introduced herself as Duchess Loia of Greenfield. The other is an Azadan of Krizos; he serves as one of the city’s Archons.”

Leon frowned slightly. From what he’d been told, nine Archons ruled Krizos, all chosen from the city’s noble population. Every ten years, new Archons were chosen, but the same eighty or so families dominated the city’s politics. The highest the common people of the city could achieve were deputy magistrates of districts or mayors of outlying villages and towns, all subject to the Nine.

“No other representatives?” Leon asked, wondering how many other cities might’ve sent delegates. Given Shatufan’s relative rivalries with Hosragan and Elegan, he doubted either of them would be alongside Shatufan’s envoy, but Sentudon, at least, he thought would’ve sent someone.

“None of note,” Gaius stated. “Representatives from some minor cities are here, but those cities are subject to either Shatufan, Krizos, or Highcastle.”

By this point, they’d reached Leon’s throne room and paused just outside of it—the portable villa was hardly that large despite Leon’s attempt to spread it out a bit for comfort. After taking a deep breath, Leon pushed open the door and walked in, not caring at all how it may make him look to the court.

As had become typical over the past month, the sheer lack of people in the court hit Leon almost physically. Barely a dozen ark captains had survived the war with Terris, including Anshu and the other two commanding Silver Spear and Bright Intent. The Jaguar had survived, as had Marcus, but Marcus was still recovering, and many of the Jaguar’s adjutants had been killed when the southern Talon was almost obliterated. The Tribes had been eviscerated, too, with all of the elders that had led them having been killed by this point, save for Ustaloch, elder of the Ji Spiders, and Evar, elder of the Ravens.

Most of the manpower in Leon’s court now came from the Tempest Knights, but even they had taken severe casualties. Due to the manpower shortage, Alcander was busy with administrative work, leaving Alix to lead the paltry fifteen knights, three of whom were giants, in the throne room.

Clear Day, Anastasios, and Eva, meanwhile, could’ve lent him additional support simply by appearing in the courtroom, but they were with Mari’Kha and Nestor, making more wisps for the arks back on Aeterna to eventually use.

In all, whereas Leon’s court had numbered in the hundreds when meeting with Manuchehr the first time, it now numbered in the dozens, barely breaking half a hundred.

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Fortunately, they still outnumbered their visitors, as they numbered a mere twenty. The three standing in front of them cut impressive enough figures, though it was easy enough to discern who was from where.

The Azadan from Shatufan was the most extravagantly dressed of the three, favoring the ostentatious style of the city, but his cheeks were hollow and sunken, and his eyes had large bags beneath them. From the way he stood, Leon guessed he also had some kind of leg injury, but his eyes, tired though they were, didn’t betray much pain. Judging from his aura, he was barely a sixth-tier mage.

The delegate from Rolor’s Highcastle, meanwhile, was decked out in sparkling plate armor, though she lacked a helmet. Her armor was shaped to emphasize her feminine assets, while at her side was a large sword that had been nailed into its sheath. She was quite beautiful, with noble, refined features, and wavy blond hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, but her brilliant silver eyes remained locked on Cassandra, barely flickering to Leon as he entered the room. She was stronger than the man from Shatufan, radiating the aura of a tenth-tier mage.

The final man was the envoy from Krizos. He was rather dark-skinned, possessed strong, masculine features, and wore all black. Emblazoned on his chest was a crest showing a golden sword, around which spun two gold rings. Around his neck were golden chains, while adorning his arms and fingers were numerous gold rings, most of which were studded with precious stones of all colors. His black hair had been pulled back into a long braid interwoven with gold thread, while his beard was kept short and professional, clinging to his jawline. He was ninth-tier, though Leon guessed he was getting close to ascending further.

Not feeling particularly patient given the situation—and especially for how he’d been interrupted—Leon strode into the room without care for any announcements, took a seat upon his throne, and glared at the twenty newcomers, and especially at the three at their front.

He waved them forward and demanded, “By what names do you three go by?”

A few of the remaining seventeen looked aggrieved at being so blatantly snubbed, but their three highest-ranked representatives stepped forward and smiled—Shatufan’s Azadan’s smile looked fakest, while the Duchess’ was perhaps the most amused. The man from Krizos, meanwhile, remained completely diplomatic.

Perhaps showing some level of the power dynamics at play, the man who introduced them started with the Duchess.

“Presenting Loia of House Camillus, Duchess of Greenfield, cousin to King Numa of Rolor’s Highcastle!”

The armored woman smiled and bowed rather shallowly.

The man continued, presenting next the envoy from Krizos.

“Arion, Azadan of Gold-Rich Krizos and scion of the ancient House of Sythet!”

The black-clad envoy from Krizos nodded his head to Leon, not even going low enough to be considered a bow.

“And Roshan, of the Noble House of Hajati, Azadan of Shatufan!”

Roshan didn’t even nod his head, remaining upright as he glared daggers at Leon.

“Be welcome to Artorion, and my court,” Leon stated as genuinely as he could. Despite any strife that may occur between their cities, he wanted to always offer hospitality to envoys and ambassadors. Having open lines of communication would always be better than closing them, and he hoped such honorable treatment would be reciprocated in the future.

“You have found quite the magnificent place for yourself, King Leon,” Loia stated, her voice accented and clear, though barely more than a whisper. “Had I not known better, I would’ve thought myself upon Kavad’s Lance… Such a tragedy that befell that city, and during your visit, too. I hope you were not injured in the Mountainfall?” She cracked a knowing smile despite her tone lacking any traces of sarcasm; she knew what had happened and what Leon walked away with, he was certain of that.

Arion was more direct. “Your actions since arriving here are concerning, Leon of House Raime.” His voice was magnetically deep and his tone was eminently polite, despite his words. “Much violence has followed in your wake. The peace of the Far West has been greatly disturbed.”

“And Shatufan has had the worst of it,” Roshan growled. “You have meddled in our city, causing great death and damage. We demand recompense for all the damage you have done, restitution for the Aurichalcum you have stolen, and compensation to the families of all those who died during the traitor Jamshid’s coup!”

“I’m not sure Shatufan’s had the worst of it,” Loia stated with a cheeky grin. “It looked like this city has taken quite the beating. Of course, that you fought off a Despot at all is remarkable, but they clearly left you bloody…”

It was unstated, but the way the Duchess smirked at Leon bared the meaning hidden in her statement: she was threatening Leon, and his blood began to boil. He kept his head as cool as could be, but he couldn’t help but flare his aura a bit brighter, overpowering all others in the room.

None of the three so much as blinked, showing a surprising, if somewhat concerning, united front.

“I must admit to some surprise,” Leon said after a moment’s silence. “I had thought Rolor’s Highcastle was no friend to Shatufan, yet you appear here side-by-side…”

“Matters that concern all the Far West also concern my Royal cousin,” Loia replied. She glanced at Arion, who returned to her a half-smile.

“The problems that arose in the wake of your arrival,” the Krizan gravely intoned, “attract the attention of my mother city. We moved to support our sister in the west, and our friends in Rolor’s Highcastle have done the same. Assuming the worst in others gives quite the insight into your thinking.”

Leon fought the urge to roll his eyes, only partially succeeding. “You,” he said, with a withering glare sent Roshan’s way, “have made known your demands. What do you two want, that you would come all this way?”

“We only wish to see Shatufan fairly compensated,” Loia stated. “Aiding Presiding Magus Manuchehr in retaking his city from usurpers was not without cost, borne especially by the people of that city. Should we not seek justice on our friends’ behalf?”

Leon smiled in faux amusement. “Are these your only demands?” he asked Roshan. “Compensation?”

“We also demand that you submit to a trial in Shatufan!” Roshan angrily shouted. “Admit to your wrongdoings and beg for my city’s forgiveness! And once you are done, move this pathetic, broken city elsewhere! The Far West is not and never will be a home to you!”

Leon gritted his teeth together to keep from biting his tongue in fury. Such a demand after such a costly victory against Terris…

“It is a fair offer, King Leon,” Loia stated. “You have found nothing but trouble since you arrived, and have taken many losses. Would it not be better to simply… find somewhere else to call home?”

“A place you might find more neighborly

,” Arion added with a wolfish grin.

Cassandra, boiling almost as furiously as Leon, began to snap. “You dare to enter this city and demand that we leave?!” she growled, her voice strained from how much she was holding herself back. “What arrogance!”

“Arrogance is thinking to remain in this place,” Loia replied. “Humility is a virtue. Accept that you are unwelcome here. Your behavior has been…” She glanced at Arion for a moment. “Unneighborly. An apology for that, and compensation for death and damage is only fair.”

Leon began to laugh even as his anger began to peak. “Unneighborly. Unneighborly. I have treated my neighbors with nothing but fairness and good faith! It was they who attacked me unprovoked, and who broke faith with me in a time of need! Shatufan is lucky I didn’t massacre my way to get what was needed to resist this invasion!”

Roshan looked keen on interrupting, but Leon let his aura spill forth without restraint, forcing all three and their seventeen hangers-on to their knees, and their mouths shut.

“You think to make demands of me?! You come into my home and make demands of me?! You are, all of you, lucky that I am such a gracious host, for were I not, you would all be ash scattering in the wind! You want compensation for the actions I’ve taken? You will receive steel and blood and lightning as compensation!”

He had more to say, but he thought he’d made his point, and after Elise subtly laid a hand on his arm, he held himself back. He took a deep breath and retracted his aura, allowing the delegation before him back to their feet.

“You will have whatever you can take, and whatever I deign to give you,” Leon growled. “You’ve made your lack of neighborly sentiment clear.”

“With respect,” Arion said, his voice still steady despite the strain in his face from Leon’s aura, “it is obvious to all with eyes that you cannot afford to remain here! Your city is in ruins! And though you’ve fought off an Ocean Lord, you have been weakened too much! Another war would devastate your people! There is only one option for you to take!”

Leon glared at him, his golden eyes flashing with fury, sparks, both silver-blue and black, dancing around his fingers. “Do not think to force anything upon me, Azadan Arion. Leave this place with your head intact. Consider this my gift to you, despite the disrespect you have shown me in my house. Begone, all of you!”

“You clearly don’t understand,” Roshan derisively said, “we have the power to destroy the pathetic remnants of your city! Submit to our demands, and peace is yours!”

“Or,” Leon said, “you can submit to mine. Leave.” He flicked his finger, and with the barest expression of his power, all twenty delegates were thrown from his throne room and almost right off the mountain. Fortunately for them, he’d held back just enough that they went tumbling down the long, though incomplete, stairs leading up the nine-peaked mountain.

“Husband…” Elise whispered. She didn’t question him publicly, but her eyes were worried.

Leon met her gaze for a brief moment and gave her a reassuring smile. Furious though he was, he knew the strategic situation as well as anyone. Artorion, heavily damaged though it was, was in no danger from the likes of this coalition. If Shatufan, Krizos, and Rolor’s Highcastle wanted to force the issue, there was little they could do to get through the misty veil with Mir lending him its power.

And what was more…

“Marshall!” Leon called out, drawing the Jaguar’s attention. The man stepped forward and immediately bowed.

“Your Majesty…”

“How long until the next wave of colonists arrive from Aeterna?”

“Three and a half weeks.”

Leon grinned. He had the power to destroy these three cities if they wanted to press this issue. In less than a month, he’d have the power to conquer them.

And they’d just quite thoroughly removed all compunctions he had about doing so. Another forty thousand colonists and all their arks were soon to arrive—enough, he thought, to fight a good war. If not, then there would be more next year, and the year after that, and so on.

He was not leaving the Artor Valley. Terris failed to make him leave, and these three cities, no matter how much power they thought they had, would likewise fail.

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