305. The War of Puppets (2)
Robert was enjoying a peaceful morning as usual. The early dawn of Golden Harbor shone like topaz, and Robert, sitting by the window, savored a sip of black tea while enjoying the dimly brightening morning sunlight.
On his desk, neatly arranged with numerous intelligence reports, documents, and papers, he moved an ink-stained quill. The act of killing someone, destroying a family, or framing an innocent person was happening under the cold, business-like tip of his pen.
He loved this job. The moment of holding the entire empire in his hand, along with the tranquility of the morning, was what he considered the happiness of his life.
“Your Majesty!!”
-Bang!
Just as he was about to slowly read and sign the next report, the door burst open, and the chamberlain rushed in. Robert tilted his head slightly and looked at him.
“Our palace etiquette includes a courtesy called knocking.”
“My apologies, my lord. But…”
“What is it?”
“Urgent news has arrived from the Kirzat region. The forces stationed at Sharza Harbor…”
“Sir Fellonso Rockefeller, I presume.”
“Yes, it’s a report from Sir Rockefeller.”
Robert, with a hint of irritation, took the report. His palace chamberlain, Duke Debullet, was sometimes careless but not one to easily lose composure, and Rockefeller was an elite agent of the Iron Side, belonging to the Gray Circle.
Several pieces of information flashed through his mind. Sharza Harbor, Al Mukapa. Not an easy man, but his followers were insignificant local lords. A quiet trade port exporting dates and palm oil, located in the farthest reaches of Kirzat.
Its only advantage was its proximity to Kirzat’s capital, Al Zahra, making it easy to monitor the logistics of satellite cities and understand the Sultan’s policy trends.
‘War…?’
Indeed, Kirzat’s interior is the front line of the empire’s intelligence resources. It’s a region that can clearly oppose the empire and has the strength to do so. Being dispatched to the heart of an enemy country that has opposed the empire carries that meaning.
For someone deployed there to send urgent news—war, or internal strife equivalent to Kirzat’s collapse, or the Sultan’s death. Those were the expected answers.
However, as Robert read the report, he had to discard all his previous hypotheses. It contained completely unexpected words.
“The unification of the Elven Triarchy…?”
Robert set his teacup down with a clatter, startling himself. His focus had been disrupted by the shocking information.
“From now on, the seas will all fall into their hands. A dreadful affair.”
“And…”
“Sir Sernerd is there. Well… Yes, that man could do it. The unification of the Elven Triarchy could be another line in his epic. A long saga indeed.”
“But why… why would he do it, Your Majesty? The union of the Elven kingdoms can never benefit the empire. Even…”
“Indeed. It may not even benefit all of humanity.”
No matter how friendly the force, the birth of an overwhelmingly powerful nation that can control and shake the entire sea is a different matter. A superpower that could completely sever maritime trade routes over minor diplomatic conflicts.
If one country has to constantly watch its step in relations with another, it’s no different from being a vassal state. And this intelligence report implied that humanity’s maritime trade front would not escape vassalage.
“What is he thinking? Why would he…?”
Based on his past actions, Fernandez’s moves were almost entirely for the greater good. For the greater good of humanity. That’s why Robert respected him. In all his achievements, he never sought personal gain.
It was literally the mindset of a saint. His actions and thoughts were somewhat radical, even appearing evil at times, but the results were always righteous. Robert had never doubted that he was truly a saint of the Temple of the Gods, even before the church officially canonized him.
Therefore, there must be another reason for this action. But it was unclear. Could this not be a move that brings endless crisis to all of human civilization?
“Wait. He headed to the plains of the Hundred Tribes? Requested troops from the Sultan? As the Emperor’s envoy?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Haha… Damn it.”
A shock like a flash of lightning struck Robert’s mind.
The framework of his thinking is different. No, it’s on a different level!
Yes. This man fought for ‘the greater good of humanity.’ Always! In the Phaeirn Kingdom, for the royal family. In the Dane Royal Family, for the survival of the Dane lineage. And in the wastelands, for the warlords of the wastelands…!
Isn’t that… an extremely neutral mindset, not siding with any particular nation or group? Only considering the interests of all humanity, yet not blindly following the trends—a masterstroke!
“He was preparing for war…! Did he tidy up the maritime forces in advance?!”
“Yes…?”
“An envoy of the Emperor? Ridiculous! This man was never a servant of the empire. He doesn’t act for the empire. Can you even begin to fathom the scope of his vision?”
“I… I don’t understand what you mean…”
“Look! For the empire, the Elven unification is unacceptable. But for all of humanity…? If we consider all of humanity as one vast nation. The unification of the Elven kingdoms could actually be beneficial.”
“How could the Elven domination of the seas benefit continental civilization? I don’t quite…”
“How frustrating!”
Robert felt his throat burning. He took a sip of black tea and continued.
“Imagine the empire as a city in one region. Kirzat is the same! The two cities have become extremely hostile due to recent wars. In such a situation, to open up friendly relations, massively open trade routes, and sometimes provide material support, a bridge is needed. A bridge completely unrelated to both cities.”
“And that bridge would be the Elves?”
“The Elves are neither on the empire’s side nor Kirzat’s. And the unification of the Elven kingdoms… ensures that bridge remains harmonious without discord.”
“It must have been an act of ‘trampling the ground’! If the divided dynasty is competing at sea, the friendship between the two cities will never be eternal.”
“Why on earth does Kirzat need such a massive exchange of goods?”
“The White Horse Clan.”
Robert continued speaking as he rose from his seat. He hastily put on his coat and grabbed his cane.
“Prepare the carriage!”
“Where are you going?”
“Paltennoia! I must meet His Majesty the Emperor.”
If an alliance between Kirzat and the Leviathan Empire was necessary, it was undoubtedly to face some formidable external enemy. And in the current situation, it was unthinkable to consider anything other than the White Horse Clan’s stronghold, which Fernandez had warned about.
This wasn’t just some ‘prophecy’ or hypothesis. The fact that he was launching such a large-scale operation meant that he had information Robert hadn’t yet obtained—
“Did Rene Philippa acknowledge this and send Fernandez?”
If Iron Side was falling behind in the intelligence war, Robert’s political standing would no longer be secure. And even before that…
“He acted under the assumption that the Empire alone couldn’t handle it!”
Agents sent to the plains of the White Horse Clan had gone missing, and all communications heading into the plains had been cut off. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t even have been worth noting. They probably thought the bandits were just fighting among themselves again.
But piece by piece, some information was simple, while some was shocking. Yet, as the puzzle came together, the vague reality that emerged was even more clear.
The man he respected as a ‘saint’ was watching the war. And whenever that man anticipated a war, it had never failed to happen.
Whether it was attacking the main force of the Duke with hundreds of cavalry or pressuring the entire Imperial Army with the small forces of the late Duke Carvelier, he had always prepared for war with minimal forces and emerged victorious.
If such a man was demanding the combined strength of two great nations, who could the enemy possibly be?
* * *
“Please… spare me. Please…”
“How amusing.”
-Swish.
The late summer’s green grasslands were no more. Blood was everywhere, scattered across the blue leaves of the plains, making many warriors nauseous.
Dying while spilling blood is not right. Even if the moment of death comes. To die not as a warrior in battle but as a prisoner after the war is more akin to an original sin.
You would never reach the heavens. Your life would seep into the earth, and even the ancestors of the warriors would turn their heads. Eagles descend upon the bodies of warriors who die in battle, but crows will perch on the corpses of prisoners. Centipedes, ants, and maggots will swarm.
I don’t want to die like that. It’s not right. The warrior gasped, spitting blood.
Above him, a cold, gleaming spear descended.
“Did the slaves you captured say the same? If you had spared them all, your tribe would be more than twice its size now.”
“Even if I die… I don’t want to die bleeding!”
“If that’s your wish, I’ll grant it. Hey! Does this one deserve respect?”
The man on horseback, with the sun at his back, turned and shouted. Soon, a cheer erupted.
-Yes!
“Do all of them! Do they deserve it?”
-Yes!!
“Then show them the way our ancestors would be satisfied. To all of them!”
“Wait, all of them…?”
The man’s face turned pale. He trembled, lifting his head. Under the shadowed face, backlit by the sun, a pair of gleaming teeth smiled.
“According to ancient tradition, I will show mercy to your clan.”
“My life alone… isn’t that enough?”
“Is that so?”
The horse took a step forward, standing before him. The massive black horse raised its hoof and placed it on the man’s chest. The man choked, struggling for breath.
“I wonder how deep a scar this moment will leave on all of you. Tradition, tradition. For the sake of our ancestors’ faces, we must do this.”
“You… you… evil…!”
“Put those bigger than a cartwheel into sacks! As you wish, let no more blood flow on the plains today!”
-Yes!!
The shout echoed across the plains. It was the moment the ‘last’ tribe, which had been actively supported by the ‘civilized’ societies of the continent to plunder nearby tribes, fell.
How many tribes are there on the plains? And how many warriors? No one had ever counted throughout history. Thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands of gers must have roamed the plains.
But under the hand of one man, they could finally answer with confidence. Two hundred and fifty-eight thousand four hundred. Among them, the number of ‘warriors’—men, women, young and old—who could draw bows and throw spears from horseback was a staggering one hundred and fifty thousand.
People who have held horse reins since birth. People who chased hunting grounds since they learned to walk. Their lives were a constant struggle, and the spears and swords forged in that time would carve deep, indelible scars into civilized society.
-Clop, clop.
The man’s horse moved forward, backlit by the sun. Straight across the blood-soaked plains from the great battle. Clop, clop. Horses followed him. Screams, shouts, curses, and pleas chased his shadow.
The wind blew. A whirlwind of hot emotions flowed amidst the stench of blood. Hearts raced, and new strength filled the weary bodies that had stayed awake for nights. And not just him, but all the warriors who followed him.
Some shamans warned against this. They said it wasn’t the power of the ancestors. That this was the work of more evil beings. The shamans who dared to speak such words were all crushed under hooves and sacks.
The man laughed as he rode with the wind. Clop, clop. At some point, the screams faded, and the moans subsided. Now, behind him, only the excited breaths of the warriors following him and the thundering of hooves remained.
“Where are you going!”
“Where the wind blows!”
“And where will you go after that!”
“Turn around and go the opposite way!”
To split the world in two, to cross it again and leave a mark never before seen. The man laughed and shouted.
-Kagan! Kagan! Kagan!
-Amar Kagan, Yeke Tetei Ulus!!
-Lüüweingarya, Ürüya (Eagles, charge)!!
Late summer. The news that the White Horse Clan had established a unified dynasty finally reached the heart of the Empire.
At that time, Amar Kagan’s forces were sweeping through all the cities near the plains’ borders.
Neither the Empire, the Great Wilderness, nor even Kirzat were fully prepared for that moment.
The Great Northern Campaign of Karadskar had begun.
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