Sentudon was a flurry of activity—scouts had told them of the movement of a large fleet of arks moving up from the south. It was clear that the fleet of Leon Raime was on the move, and as the southernmost city of Shatufan’s new league, it was obvious where the King’s first stop would be.

As the fleet progressively drew closer, the city’s defenders readied themselves as much as they were able. There would be no resistance out in the hinterlands—there wasn’t much in the way of fortifications out there, and what few forts there were, the fleet would easily take or simply bypass.

No, the city leaders knew that the only place they might be able to hold would be in Sentudon itself.

Lances were prepared. What few arks they had remaining were called into service. Ships and their crews were pressed into service. Militias were called up. In only two days, the city’s defense force had ballooned from less than twenty-thousand to nearly two hundred thousand.

Every single one of them could think of little else save for the fate of the ten thousand volunteers that had sailed south to threaten Artorion.

About a day before the fleet was due to arrive, an Ascended Beast arrived outside of the eastern gate in the form of a small white bird with dark red eyes. When he transformed into his human body, he revealed himself to be an older man of indistinct power. It wasn’t until he was taken to the ruling council that they realized that he was post-Apotheosis, thanks to the only tenth-tier mage in the city presiding over the council.

The council itself was made up of twelve Azadan, all elected to their positions for a period of five years. Technically, those who sat on the council didn’t have to be Azadan, but in practice, few but the rich and powerful were able to access the city’s highest hall of power. These Archons typically carried themselves with significant pride, for serving in that position represented the zenith of their political career.

In front of their visitor, however, it was all they could do to not shake in their fine, fur-lined boots.

Wasting little time, the stranger introduced himself almost as soon as he was shown into the central palace’s reception room. “I am known as Clear Day, named such by King Leon Raime!”

Gasps and frantic murmuring filled the room—though only the Archons had the right to address their guests without being called upon, the reception hall was filled with other Azadan and magistrates, both elected and appointed. In total, there were perhaps three hundred men and women in the hall, and more than a thousand in adjacent chambers, including the Archonate’s guards.

Sentudon’s only tenth-tier mage lightly hammered his fist on the table in front of him, not doing any damage but making enough noise to quiet the murmuring.

“Well met,” he said as politely as his shaking voice could manage. “You may call me Tyrios. Why have you come here, Clear Day?”

The old man smiled, crow’s feet prominently forming in the corners of his dark red eyes. Tyrios thought this was particularly notable—as an eleventh-tier equivalent being, this Ascended Beast shouldn’t look so old. ‘Recently ascended, maybe?’ he speculated.

“I have been sent by my King to seek a peaceful end to our current dispute,” Clear Day announced to the hall, his aura flaring for a moment to cement the seriousness of his words. “Our peoples have entered into a most regrettable conflict! There is little hope for you to come out ahead if this descends into further violence! So I urge all of you to weigh this generous offer carefully, and consider the consequences of refusal!”

One of Tyrion’s fellow Archons shouted, “What is the word of a beast worth? How can anyone know if you’re telling the truth?!”

Tyrion bit his tongue to keep himself from strangling the poor fool, but to their great fortune, Clear Day smiled the insult away and took the question at face value.

“There is no need for deception, my friend,” he said. “My King holds no great grudge against your city. However, he greatly desires to bring order to a chaotic region. And should you accept his offer, all of you will find that you will benefit just as much from agreement as he will.”

Before anyone could further interject, Tyrios’ aura flickered, silencing the room before their tongues could flex.

“What is this ‘generous’ offer your King extends?” he asked.

“To surrender to his passing fleet,” Clear Day answered. Tyrios was dismayed but unsurprised. They had made their stance on Artorion clear when they’d deployed ten thousand soldiers along the Southcourse. He hadn’t thought they would actually attack Artorion, merely threaten it from a forward position, but Leon Raime had not taken well to the threat.

In truth, Tyrios wouldn’t have gotten involved if Manuchehr hadn’t promised many Azadan the moon and the stars for their aid in reclaiming Shatufan from the usurpers. Blinded by promises of riches and glory, a slim majority of the city’s Azadan had voted in favor of not only supporting Manuchehr but also supporting his disastrous southern expedition. Even now, there were enough Azadan in the city who thought they could at least fight off Leon Raime and retain their independence that Tyrios couldn’t simply end their involvement with this new league of Manuchehr’s, as he would prefer.

Clear Day continued, “In return for acknowledging King Leon Raime as the King of this city and all of the Far West, he will allow it to continue functioning as it has. He will neither impose a new ruling system upon you nor install a garrison within your walls. A nominal tribute will be imposed, but the citizens of your city will be given citizenship in our Kingdom, allowing them to join the King’s army and bureaucracy—however, no one will be forced into joining either, and to travel and live and work freely throughout his Kingdom.”

Anger, fear, and despair wound their way through the room. Tyrios could see all three in almost everyone, though many favored the former over the latter two. ‘Too many…’

With a sigh, he asked, “Other than providing ‘tribute’, how much would we be expected to give to your King? I presume we would be expected to help supply this passing fleet, among other unspoken obligations?”

“There is no need for that during this campaign,” Clear Day answered. “Any other contributions would come in that expected tribute. To be as clear as my name, King Leon would—”

“‘King Leon’ can shove his offer up his tyrannical ass!” another of the Archons shouted, his face red with anger. “This city will never bow to Kings! Your worthless tyrant can take this city if he wishes, but he will never hold it! We will resist until our traditions are restored! Tell him he can attack at his peril!”

Tyrios felt like face-palming, but there was nothing he could do about this. Though he was the strongest man in the city, all of the Archons had the right to speak, and as whispers of agreement at this sentiment wound through the hall, he knew that there still wasn’t enough support for peace to make it viable.

Clear Day looked a little taken aback at such a vitriolic refusal. He stared at the offending Archon blankly, apparently unsure of what to say. Tyrios couldn’t blame him; the offer had been generous, even without being specific on the topic of tribute. He doubted such an offer would be extended again.

The meeting continued for only a few more minutes as more than half of the Archons espoused their support for refusing the offer. None of them had ever been to war. Neither had Tyrios, but he had some foreign friends who were intimately familiar with the struggles in the Far East between the Anakes vying for the title of Storm King. The stories they told never failed to send chills running down his spine.

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‘We hold ourselves to be higher than beasts, but we often act with cruelty and sadism that shows we’re no better…’ he mused as Clear Day was shown to the door. The Ascended Beast didn’t argue, he only looked disappointed. He paused at the hall’s door to send one last forlorn look over his shoulder before disappearing.

“We must be ready to fight,” Tyrios stated as excitement of a kind filled the hall. The people weren’t warmly anticipating the coming battle, but they were at least anticipating it. “War is upon us.”

—

Leon glared at the city only a few miles away, the wind whipping in his feathers, lightning surging through his body.

The defenses were pathetic. Strong given the relative power of the Far West and the threats the people here faced, but nothing compared to the power, both magical and temporal, that he was about to bring to bear.

Their defending forces amounted to a dozen arks, only half of which were large enough to even count as frigates. The southern flank of the city was largely unfortified as it faced the local Finger Lake, but a fleet of ships was trying to act as a wooden wall anyway. The vast majority of those ships appeared to be merchant and fishing ships, however, with only a few ships looking particularly armed.

‘The Bull Kingdom was stronger, at least in some aspects,’ Leon noted. Sentudon had stronger mages, but everything else left much to be desired.

Leon breathed deeply as his fleet spread out behind him, fighters, giants, and Ulta suits filling the gaps between the arks, MALLs and supporting infantry massing below. The battle was soon to begin, and when it did, it wouldn’t last long, despite Sentudon’s obstinance. Leon still remembered the look of complete bafflement and dismay on Clear’s face when he reported their response to his offer.

“I didn’t think they’d be so eager to resist under these circumstances,” he’d said. “I was prepared for them to try to buy themselves time with negotiation, but outright refusal…”

Leon had responded, “Humans don’t like giving up what’s theirs. Maybe they don’t understand the threat. Maybe they’re taking a principled stance—which I would find admirable if it’s the case. Maybe… I don’t know, maybe they just hate me. At this point, ‘why’ doesn’t mean much. The only thing to do is to take the city with as little loss of life and destruction as possible.”

Now, that time had come.

[We’re ready,] Cassandra’s voice rang through his head. She was in an Ulta suit by Xanthippe, ready to press in a different direction than Leon was planning. Many of his friends were out there as well, either on their own or leading other contingents of warriors. Only Valeria and Maia were with him, flying only a few feet off his wingtips.

In an instant, storm clouds formed overhead, and Leon accelerated, thunder following in his wake. He didn’t respond to Cassandra specifically, as his power was answer enough. As lightning flashed and thunder boomed, rain began to fall upon a free Sentudon for the last time…

—

There was something utterly and intoxicatingly thrilling about flying through one of his brother’s storms. The violence was monumental, yet Anzu knew that absolutely nothing would hurt him within it. He felt invincible.

He flew in griffin form for the largest gatehouse. Beside him flew five hundred other Tribal warriors, all in beast form—fifty from each Tribe. Below them charged five hundred more warriors, some manning Ulta suits and others in MALLs.

Lances cracked amidst the thunder, and as the storm clouds thickened above, the battlefield was illuminated only by his brother’s lightning and the other expressions of magical power that filled the suburbs of the city.

Thankfully, it seemed the parts of Sentudon outside of its walls had either been evacuated, or the people remaining were hunkering down. Anzu didn’t think too much about that, however, as he and his forces fell upon the gatehouse with terrible intent. The Lances by the gatehouse were too busy firing at the Ulta suits and MALLs to pay much attention to the sky, and his force’s presence was announced when his claws and beak sank into one of the defenders, his momentum nearly ripping the poor armored human in half.

Beside him, he saw a Lion and a Tiger rampage over the roof of the gatehouse, while Eagles and Hawks easily carried away weaker humans, their talons ripping them to shreds before dropping them from great heights. Bison, Bears, and Harts went to work on the gate itself while Ravens and Spiders hunted the remaining defenders of this section of the wall. Led by the Jaguars, other Lions and Tigers fell upon a panicking force sent to relieve the defenders as the battle began while arks, MALLs, and Ulta suits peppered nearby towers with Lancefire.

In mere minutes, the gatehouse was secured, its defenders killed or captured, and the gate was opened. It wasn’t specifically needed, but having the strong point only made what would come next easier.

As MALLs came pouring through the gate, Anzu spared a look to the south. He could see lightning flashing with such frequency and intensity that it was essentially continuous. Ships were broken as his brother flew over them, the weaker ones breaking from the thunderous force of his wings alone, while the more hardened ships were shattered by Leon’s power.

Pride bloomed in Anzu’s chest. His brother was strong, but he wasn’t only proud of that. He’d done his job, not that it had been that difficult. He’d contributed, winning much glory for himself. He was a part of something great, and soon, the entire Nexus would hear of the Kingdom he’d helped establish here.

Further down the wall, he could see others doing just as he had. The city’s defenses simply weren’t strong enough to present much of a challenge. He wondered if the others were facing any difficulty, though…

—

Elation lifted Red’s heart as she lazily flew over the walls. Humans below her scattered like insects—as was only proper before her majestic form. She breathed fire down upon them, watching with glee as their weak forms were turned to ash in the heat of her power. It was intoxicating, establishing her dominance like this.

To the south, however, a particularly loud thunderclap drew her attention.

‘Leon…’ she thought with some respect. Though she wasn’t too clear on what exactly he was, she was certain he wasn’t human. He certainly didn’t show the same weakness she would’ve expected in others of his kind. Had he been more willing, she wouldn’t have minded becoming one of his mates.

But she supposed he wouldn’t have taken well to her natural inclination to eat his other mates and the young he would have with them. Wyverns didn’t often share, only doing so when forced. She momentarily thought of the black wyvern that had been her previous mate and struck out against the humans below her with momentary ferocity. The wall shuddered as her fire washed over it, and only the terrified screams of those being burned below her brought her back to her senses.

She snorted, her eyes momentarily turning to Bolt in Shadow, where her chosen mate was. Her flames had only cooled a moment before her heat was renewed; she wanted him. He’d given her pleasure she’d never thought possible, and to her delight, he was generally indulgent with her when she wanted him to be, and firm when he needed to be.

Yes, though Leon was stronger and a large part of her yearned for that strength, Anshu was the better mate. And better yet, he was all hers.

She plunged back into her task with greater ardor; the sooner she was done here, the sooner she could drag him off to satisfy her.

‘Or maybe I’ll let him drag me off…’ she thought with delight as more fire flowed from her toothy maw, the screams of those it incinerated and terrified fading into the background as she envisioned the delights that awaited her once this battle was done.

—

Clear Day walked through the blasted gatehouse, deliberately moving slowly in the wake of Leon’s warriors. The few left behind to keep the gatehouse secure didn’t bother him, leaving him to inspect the remains at his leisure.

He had to admit that humans often surprised him. He’d lived a long time, and he was almost ashamed at how often moments of human foolishness and brilliance could take him aback.

On the one hand, Leon Raime had orchestrated feats he hadn’t thought possible. On the other hand, the stubbornness on display here saddened him greatly. The warriors had piled many of the bodies of those who’d tried to defend the gatehouse nearby, the smell of their remains already starting to spread despite the rain and wind. Clear stopped in front of the bloody pile, evidence of the brutality with which the Tribal warriors had fought in their beast forms.

‘Was all this worth it?’ he silently asked them as he took in the scale of death. Hundreds had been killed around this gatehouse alone. Hundreds of people who had, only an hour ago, been living, thinking people, with hopes, dreams, fears, and anxieties. Each one of them had been a luminous soul, capable of much if they were only made to see their own power and potential.

Clear lamented this death, but he knew that it was necessary—or, at least as necessary as everyone had insisted on making it. Leon had insisted on this campaign, and the people of Sentudon had insisted on resisting. Clear understood why each of them did what they did, but he couldn’t relish the outcome.

Thankfully, most of the city’s defenders in less important places—which was to say places that weren’t immediately hit by Leon’s army as the battle began—surrendered quickly. Sailors out in the lake and defenders deep in the city had thrown down their arms, seeing the sense in giving up.

As Clear stood there, lamenting all of this death, a horn sounded from deeper in the city. The Archonate building had been taken, and those few remaining stubborn defenders of the city now threw down their arms.

The battle, it seemed, was over.

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