“… and they’ll be demanding answers at some point.”

“We can tell them whatever we wish! If they argue too much, let them answer to our arks! Let them hear the wailing of their Ancestors as their lines come to an end!”

“How long will that take? How much blood and time must we expend on these planes before they’re brought into line? A few words may save us all an ocean of blood!”

“An ocean of their blood! We took nine planes and shed little of our own! What are three more?”

Leon tiredly sighed. His advisors often had much wisdom to share when it came to his Kingdom, but in this circumstance, as he sat in a private meeting room within Yun’s Imperial Palace, he had to remind himself why he so often refrained from overly stacking his councils with warriors; Anshu’s advocation for ruling with might seemed to be swaying more people than Clear’s words of restraint.

The entire meeting, of course, was predicated on the disaster at the end of their push into Jiaxing’s Imperial City. The eunuch Wang Jujun had given his life to make one last strike against Yun’s dynasty, and much was lost. Nearly all of the eunuch’s people, unprotected as they were since they were largely unarmored, choked to death on that green smoke. Wang Jujun himself met his end at the tips of Iron Pride and Mountain Cleaver, though even if he hadn’t, his last strike would’ve killed him anyway. About half of the auxiliaries who’d accompanied Leon and Yun into the throne room were terribly poisoned, and few of them survived.

Fortunately, the more heavily armored among them were their leaders, many of them noble, so Leon had no shortage of witnesses who had seen the tragedy happen and could testify to their people that Leon wasn’t responsible. After all, the last thing he wanted was for rumors among the local powers that he’d used Wang Jujun to rid himself of troublesome local elites.

Given how so many had met their end, trouble was sure to follow if Leon didn’t get out ahead of it.

“Enough,” he growled as the bickering between his advisors intensified. The single word was enough to bring silence to the hall, and a dozen pairs of eyes turned in his direction—the fleet commanders, along with Clear, Marcus, Daryun, Red, and Anzu, along with several scribes. “We won’t preemptively slaughter these people,” he continued. “If we handle things right, they’ll be fellow citizens, not subjects to oppress.”

“How can we get a handle on this without ensuring control?” Anshu asked, deadly seriousness plastered across the Indradian’s face. “Once they hear what happened, it doesn’t matter who was there or what they saw; the people will assume what happened, and there’ll be no stopping those rumors.”

“The people will spread rumors no matter what,” Clear protested. “If we focus on the local elites, we can ensure that no one who has the power to do so will stand against us! And if they’re on our side, then they’ll aid us in halting these rumors whenever they begin!”

“‘If’,” Anshu retorted.

“They will still get the chance,” Leon said. “Continue to secure the Imperial City. Clear, speak with the locals. Assure them that little is going to change and that there are no benefits to rebelling against us now.”

“Easy enough,” the tau replied with a confident smile.

“Anshu,” Leon pressed on, the Indradian meeting his gaze, ready for his orders, “the local auxiliaries will need some level of integration with our forces. Should help give them confidence that their positions aren’t being threatened. So long as they’re not losing local political power or positions… they should keep quiet.”

Anshu slowly nodded. “How integrated are you thinking?”

“Let them retain their force structure, but make sure that they know they can transfer to the central army at no cost and with no loss in relative position—we’ll need to figure out rank equivalencies, too. Make sure that they know that they will answer to the commander of the local garrison. Make sure they understand that they are still ultimately answerable to Artorion.”

A confident grin matching Clear’s graced Anshu’s face. “I can do that.”

Leon nodded gratefully. “Marcus.”

The man himself looked up, having been dividing his attention between the meeting and several personnel reports—a list of bureaucrats in the immediate vicinity, some of whom might be receiving promotions as a new planar administration was set up.

“We need Praetors and Inspectors. Most of these three planes seem well-ordered, but I’ll leave it to your discretion how much of it needs reform and how much just needs to be renamed.”

“From what I’ve seen,” Marcus responded, “we can coopt the local administration quite easily. It’s just my initial estimate, but I doubt we’ll need to shuffle around any more than about ten percent of the bureaucracy. But… I’ll need to know soon, my King, whether or not this Empire will remain whole or will be split between these three planes…”

Leon took a deep breath and mulled the question over for a moment. With Yun, he’d been planning on keeping the three planes united in his Principality. Now, however…

“I’ll take a day and meet some of the locals,” Leon stated. “Depending on where we stand now… I’m leaning towards keeping these planes unified.”

“Three planes…” Marcus stated. “That’s a lot of responsibility for a single Planarch.”

Leon nodded in agreement. He’d already been thinking about creating a new position above that of Planarch, but he hadn’t been planning on implementing it until his Kingdom encompassed more planes than it currently did. With Jiaxing, Xixing, and Dongxing as they were, he might have to accelerate that particular reform.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he finally stated, and Marcus bowed his head.

“Anzu,” Leon said as he turned to his brother. The albino griffin-in-human-form met his gaze with a playful smile; he was ready for his next assignment. “Take your scout fleet and proceed with your next mission.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Anzu stated boldly. “The next stop is only a single plane, and from what I’ve seen, it’s only about half again as large as Jiaxing; that makes it barely the size of Aeterna. How much can they threaten us?”

“Keep your wits about you,” Leon warned. “No matter what, until we know better, assume they can and will threaten you.”

Anzu shut his mouth and frowned slightly. “Right, of course, Brother. We’ll take all due precautions.”

“Good. Leave at the soonest opportunity.”

Anzu bowed as Marcus had, and Leon looked around the room. No locals were present, no one who could give him definitive insight into the local opinions in the wake of the disaster in the throne room. But he had a simple solution to that.

“We have a lot of work. Keep the city secure, but we can loosen restrictions on the civilians. Let life return to normal as much as we can. We’ll have public announcements ready within a week.”

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The rest of those in the room bowed.

“Let’s get to it.”

With that, the meeting ended and the commanders of his expedition separated to see to their duties. Leon, meanwhile, made his way to what was known as the ‘Palace of Blue Stars’, the residence of Emperors on Jiaxing for the past two millennia, or so he’d been led to believe. He needed to visit Yun, and more importantly, the man who now watched over him.

—

Few servants came and went from the Palace of Blue Stars. Over the past couple days, it had become the most locked-down part of the palace, surrounded by Leon’s Tempest Knights, the giants who were part of the order ensuring that any who approached the palace were thoroughly intimidated and turned around before they reached the front door.

But a small handful continued their duties within. Leon wasn’t staying there, but the palace had kept one particular resident over these couple days.

It was dark in the halls, and a deathly chill had taken hold. The light and climate enchantments were working fine, but the specter of death haunted the palace now, and those paltry few servants who remained had affected a particularly pale pallor that made them look more like mortuary workers than servants of Imperial Royalty.

Leon hardly paid much attention to the sumptuous décor as he marched through the palace. Much of it was still damaged from Yun’s flight, and Leon had half a mind to demolish the whole place and build a grand mausoleum over it. How much the people would appreciate it, however, he wasn’t sure.

In a certain room far in the back of the palace, with a wall covered almost entirely in windows that looked out over grand gardens, his reason for visiting awaited him. As he approached, the darkness and the chill of the palace seemed to grow stronger. His footsteps seemed to echo on the floor, made of rich scented wood, hammering his eardrums with every step. The door he reached was thick and sturdy, heavily enchanted to ensure privacy, and ornately decorated with images of dragons as all doors were in this palace.

Leon pushed it open, and the room behind it was as dark and cold in truth as the rest of the palace felt. The window curtains had been drawn, leaving only a thin slit between them to allow natural light in. The magic lights had all been extinguished, leaving the room so dark that a mortal would hardly be able to see what awaited within.

Leon had long left mortality behind, however, and he could see perfectly fine. He saw Zhang standing behind a well-appointed bed, his expression carefully controlled, but his aura was in utter disarray. Though his face spoke little of it, Leon could read the despair and hopelessness in the man in the chaotic whorls and eddies that his aura formed.

Laying in the bed was Yun, his eyes closed, his skin pallid, cold, and gray, the discolored veins peeking out from beneath his Imperial raiment. His chest did not rise and fall, no aura spilled forth from his body, no signs of life could be detected within him at all. The last breath he’d taken had been filled with the toxic gas summoned by Wang Jujun.

He’d been dead for two days.

Leon quietly shut the door behind him, leaving him alone with Yun and Zhang. He made no moves to open the curtains or to immediately fill the silence with the sound of his voice. He respectfully stood at the foot of Yun’s bed as he lay in state as Zhang stood at the head, and quietly observed both the dead Prince and his bodyguard.

Dead long before his time. Dead just as his vengeance had reached him. Leon couldn’t help but recall a story that his father was fond of—the protagonist, long seeking immortality, had been directed to a magical flower that, when consumed, would grant him what he sought. Upon finding the flower, after picking it and holding it in his hands, the protagonist hesitated to consume it, worrying that he might have been tricked. In his hesitation, a serpent darted out from the brush and snatched the flower from his hands.

Incaution, arrogance, worry about what might happen… the story’s protagonist had the object of his search in his hand, and he’d still lost it. There were many lessons to learn from that story, and Leon had long vowed to keep it in mind. Artorias had certainly done his best to carve those lessons into Leon’s skull as he’d grown up. It was Leon’s failing that he hadn’t taken it as seriously as he should’ve.

“I should’ve prevented this,” he finally said, breaking the silence in the room. “I had the power to do so. But I wanted to let Yun have his moment of triumph. If he’d been kept away, even a dozen feet back… he might still be here.”

“The fault… is mine…” Zhang croaked, his voice hoarse and harsh, as if he’d spent these past days wailing nonstop. “I was sworn to keep him safe… and I’ve… I’ve failed…” It was a testament to Zhang’s strength that even suffering from such obvious mental anguish not a single tear slipped from his eyes.

A deep, quiet sigh escaped Leon’s lips. “The depths of arrogance and pride that we humans can fall to never fails to surprise me. I’ve experienced enough of such follies that I should expect it, but… If Lord Kamran had me in such a position as Yun had Wang Jujun, I would do the same. I should’ve realized what he was going to do. I should’ve acted sooner. Yun shouldn’t have paid for that mistake.”

“My Lord would’ve resented it,” Zhang admitted. “It was a mistake we all made. And… Have you heard? What some of the servants admitted?”

Leon nodded. Most of the palace complex’s staff were Wang Jujun’s creatures, and after the eunuch’s actions, all were interrogated—such was an important step since all of Wang Jujun’s higher-ranked subordinates were as dead as he was. Several of the older servants had plenty of stories to tell, stories which led to more individuals who were captured and interrogated. Within a day, Leon had a list of names whom Wang Jujun had ordered disposed of, overtly and otherwise, some with plenty of proof, and others with less, but all with plenty of reason and opportunity. Among those names were Yun’s parents, as well as many nobles, generals, and scholars who’d been close to the Imperial dynasty.

“I’ve spoken with General Pang Lun,” Leon said, referring to the commander of the thirty-thousand-strong auxiliary force that had aided him in taking the city. “He expressed no surprise with these revelations.”

“There were always suspicions…” Zhang spat. “I should’ve run that sniveling manlet through decades ago!” For a moment, Zhang’s aura became a radiant star of killing intent, plunging the temperature below freezing. Frost gathered on the walls, but it wasn’t until Yun’s face sparkled with ice that Zhang restrained himself. “Who would’ve complained? He had many in his debt… but who would stick their necks out for a eunuch?”

Leon nodded, platitudes dying on his tongue. “There is always more we could’ve done,” he stated, “but there is nothing we can do to change the past. We can only do better next time.”

Zhang scowled. “What ‘next time’? What is there left? I have watched three Emperors die! I have lost all honor, thrice have I failed! When my Lord is returned to the earth, I will follow him! I have no desire to continue on.”

“Is that what he would want?” Leon asked.

“He would want to still be alive,” Zhang spat. “He would want to know the warmth of his mother and father! What use is there in invoking what he would want when he is no longer here?”

Leon carefully nodded. “I… I have need of honor and loyalty, Zhang. And so do your people.”

“They do not need me. I am a fighter, nothing more. What is one man to an Empire?”

“One man is enough to split an Empire. Right now, the very Empire that Yun’s family built, which he placed into my hands to care for, is in danger. What will they say when the people hear of this? They will think I had something to do with it, and why wouldn’t they? Why should they think that I didn’t have Yun killed after he bowed, that I might seize his Empire without him? But you, Zhang, can help me. You can help me keep the peace on these three planes.”

Zhang stared at him balefully as he continued, but Leon pressed on. If Zhang was intending on taking permanent leave of the land of the living, then there would be no harm in making a pitch.

“I will bury Yun with full Imperial honors,” Leon stated. “He will be remembered as an Emperor. This I promise you without qualification.”

Zhang’s expression softened minutely but remained hardened against him.

“I need you to simply be living proof that I am Yun’s rightful successor. Together, we will keep peace here and throughout this Empire. We can’t bring Yun back, but we can honor his memory—and the memory of his Ancestors—and ensure that his people are taken care of. I’ll arrange for a public address in two days. Yun’s death will be announced there. Think on this. Doing what is right is not necessarily doing what is honorable, though in this case, I’d say there’s plenty of honor to be had in helping to ensure peace lasts among your people. Give it some thought. Besides, I’m sure there are plenty of Wang Jujun’s people still around who were complicit in his crimes. Would you wish to go to your Ancestors before them?”

Leon intended to leave that question lingering, but as he turned toward the door, Zhang asked, “Who… who is ‘Lord Kamran’?”

Leon paused, his eyes staring into the darkness. “My enemy,” he said after several seconds of silence. “By his order, my father died. Many more of my Clan fell to his orders. And likely by his blade, too. He is honorless, ambitious, and yet untouchable, but there will come a day when he is not. When that day comes, I will answer him in kind.”

Without waiting for longer than one second more, Leon departed, leaving Zhang to continue watching over his fallen Lord. Leon wasn’t sure how persuasive he was in there, but he hoped he got through to him. With Zhang on his side, it ought to be easier to integrate Yun’s Empire into Leon’s Kingdom.

Ultimately, however, whether or not there yet be violence would depend on the people, and Leon had two days to make sure they chose peace over rebellion…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep