#4 (I)

It had been a long time since Tatsumi had slept outdoors. In the months leading up to Esdeth's surprise visit, which had utterly changed his life forever, there had been no major hunts that the village needed to pursue. These hunts required days of camping out in the bleak, snow-ridden wilderness surrounding their village.

Such conditions were harsh and unforgiving, but he thought it the measure of a true hunter if he could ignore all that and persist to see the hunt through to the end. Those were days of seeking caves first and foremost, then checking if they were inhabited currently by any predator. The challenge then became trying to find sleep on the icy-cold rocky floor, curled up over a small, sputtering fire while icy winds battered relentlessly outside.

If they could not find a cave, then it was a small burrow dug into the snow and reinforced by the Beastskin tents they all had to bring with them, where they were forced to sleep right next to snow, without a fire, while making sure never to leave any part of their bodies out of the sleeping cocoons. There would be an abrupt amputation otherwise, and a quick trip back to the village and be declared an invalid for the rest of their days.

That was not to say that Tatsumi was experiencing the exact same conditions as before. The Emperor was not allowed to sleep in bleak, harrowing conditions, after all.

At first, he had been given the option of his own palanquin, just as his predecessors had used before. It was the Great Imperial Palanquin, if one wanted to be technical, and was as large as his old house in the village. It had everything within it too, including enough space to field several retainers to prepare the food and clean it up. It was to be carried around by the Imperial bodyguards who had been currently reassigned here. This was also the sole reason why Tatsumi ultimately refused the arrangement. It was just so weird to live inside a cross between a tent and a house while being carried up on the shoulders of a dozen burly men. He couldn't imagine eating, let alone defecating there (and yes, there was even a small privy and bathtub provided for his needs).

When he told his refusal to General Abell, the one who was assigned to his security detail, the man had been dismayed, but had then given him an alternative. The ironside currently docked on the ground were available for him to commandeer, and he would thus be able to sleep up there.

"It would be also be quite safer than the Great Imperial Palanquin," the general explained, "As the security requirements for entry into the ships are quite steeper than down here in the camps. Any interlopers, if they exist, would be easily tracked and intercepted by our loyal marines."

But Tatsumi recalled how he and his friends turned bodyguards had tried to take a nap on the long air ride here, and how it had been virtually impossible with the cramped space and the way the ship moved and creaked and rumbled around them. Being forced to sleep there was a fate he left to his eager Admirals, and not something he'd seek out himself. With that, he made his decision and intentions clear to General Abell, who drew his eyebrows together and frowned thoughtfully.

"Very well, my lord. As you command: there is one other thing we have available. You may use a General's tent, which is something reserved for the Generals. I hesitated to suggest this, because its hardly a place appropriate for the Emperor to sleep in. Not even a bunch of pillows and cushions piled high can take away the strain of feeling the rigid, uneven ground beneath your spine, or of the way the night's chill yet somehow finds a way to creep through the closed blinds." The man's face twisted, as if the mere recollection of such facts left a foul impression. He continued, "It does not have the amenities of the Palanquin, my lord, which means it may not have a fire inside. It shall be a quite bothersome experience for you, and that is why I do not recommend it."

"But that actually sounds decent enough!" Tatsumi had nonetheless proclaimed, and there the matter was left. One did not argue needlessly with the Emperor, and Tatsumi was secretly glad for once to have the last word when it came to decisions he really wanted. A large general's tent was therefore set up, within one of the more populated camps currently established outside Folkis. Surrounding it were many of the bodyguards' own tents, along with Ieyasu's and Sayo's. A full complement of guards were posted on high alert every hour of the night, helped by the many sentries that were hiding in plain sight all throughout the camp.

After receiving the initial briefing from an assembly including Generals Esdeth and Abell along with some senior officers from both armies that were present, Tatsumi and his friends ate an early supper at his tent, before the two were gently reminded to leave when it was time for Tatsumi to sleep. Apparently, it was tradition and necessity for the Emperor to sleep alone—or if he insisted on having company, then the guards were duty-bound to strip him or her of all clothing, and have at least two guards inside to watch.

The ridiculous rules were said to extend even to any wives or lovers Tatsumi may have in the future—an Emperor's consort or personal mistress was expected to sleep in a separate place while the Emperor was outside the Palace. As General Abell patiently explained to Tatsumi—who was desperately trying not to blush—if Tatsumi desired to have female company to comfort him, he was to complete their "business" and then afterward send the woman away, or otherwise the guards were tasked to send two of their number inside to watch the couple sleep. And it didn't matter if the Emperor found offense and killed off the two: more guards would come in, suffering their master's wrath, even until all of them were dead.

"Of course, such an impulsive Emperor would be seen as weak and unworthy of the tenets the First Emperor passed down—such as it is, it has led more than one Emperor to be swiftly displaced during a civil war… I'm sure you understand, my lord," General Abell explained.

"Oh yes, yes, I do understand," Tatsumi said quickly, his heart pounding at the implication of having sex with a woman—particularly as Sayo was also present, listening to the same explanation. He didn't dare turn to talk to her then. He didn't even bring it up later, when they had supper.

The experience of sleeping inside this new "general's tent" wasn't quite the same as roughing it in the snowy woods during a Hunt. Contrary to General Abell's claim, the cushions were still fluffy enough that only people unused to sleeping on the rocky ground would find it inadequate. And the space was wide enough that he could stretch his whole body and still have more than enough left over, unlike the usual cramped conditions of their usual tents. And the heat, of course, was better here than in the basic Beast-hide he was used to—there was probably some high-quality material used in the tent that adequately trapped the heat generated by the torches during supper. It wasn't quite warm, but it also wasn't as cold as the General had claimed, too.

All in all, this first night on the campaign road hadn't been anything noteworthy. The nerve-wracked Tatsumi was able to settle down and catch a few winks after straining to hear above the raucous sounds of his army outside for the tell-tale sounds of battle.

He awoke, the next morning, to the muffled sounds of an argument coming from outside the tent. Curious to know what all the hubbub was about, Tatsumi took his sword from its rest and tucked it inside his bathrobe, then proceeded to open the flap of his tent without bothering to freshen himself up.

He saw his imperial guards standing in close formation, acting as a makeshift wall as they all faced down Ieyasu, who was staring bewildered at them from the other side.

"… bodyguard like you! Are you trying to tell me that shit doesn't even count?" he was saying incredulously.

"Regardless of your status, sir Ieyasu, the official roster bodyguards has regrettably not included either yourself nor lady Sayo," one of the guards replied.

"What's going on?" Tatsumi asked. As he spoke, the ring of armed guards immediately moved to face him, their bodies acting in unison like a well-oiled machine. "Hail, Emperor!" They all cried, stamping the butts of their weapon to the ground.

"Oh, morning, Tatsumi," Ieyasu greeted, in comparison quite a bit more normally. "Nice to see you up and about. Why don't you go tell off these guys for me."

"Why?" Tatsumi asked. "What happened?"

"They told me they wouldn't let anyone inside the tent. Couldn't even try and holler to see if you were awake!"

You shouldn't even be doing that! Tatsumi wanted to say, but he knew the guards would just interpret that differently and therefore never ever allow Ieyasu within.

"And we informed sir Ieyasu that no one, not even the guards, may be allowed to enter the Emperor's tent, not even to wake our lord, unless there is an emergency in the camp that requires his wakening. That is our responsibility as his bodyguards," explained one of the armored fellows.

"But aren't I already one of you?" said Ieyasu. "That General Budo signed off on it and everything."

"That is precisely the reason," repeated the guard. "No one may enter the Emperor's tent, for whatever reason, unless there is an emergency. Not even a bodyguard like you, sir."

"Well that's definitely weird," Ieyasu said with a frown. "How would you be able to know if, like, Tatsumi had already been killed the night before, and you wouldn't even know it?"

The guards shifted in their boots, glancing at each other uneasily as if the question had triggered something unpleasant. Tatsumi could tell his friend had struck a nerve, and though he would always support his best friend above all, he was also loathe to antagonize his guards.

"What the heck are you talking about?" Tatsumi asked drily. "You implying something, punk?"

"Huh?" Ieyasu uttered, eyes widening. Perhaps he was surprised Tatsumi had returned to speaking as if they were at the village.

"Anyway, sorry man, but I'm gonna have to say thanks to these folks here for stopping you," Tatsumi continued. "I do prefer my beauty sleep to being rudely awakened." Not that that had stopped his being awakened by Ieyasu coming and arguing about it, but Tatsumi wasn't going to mention that.

"I wasn't gonna wake you up!" Ieyasu said.

"Yeah, yeah," Tatsumi said, waving, hoping his friend would take the hint and just shut up already. He turned to look at his nearest guard. "Listen, I'm gonna go in and change, and then I'll be ready for breakfast, clear?"

"Yes, my lord!" the man replied, banging his gauntlet on his armor in salute. "I shall inform the staff that breakfast will be readied."

"By the way, where's Sayo?"

Ieyasu shrugged sheepishly. "…She didn't want to go along with a prank."

"I knew it!" Tatsumi cried, before retreating back inside his tent.

With Tatsumi up and about, his guards no longer had any qualms allowing either Ieyasu or Sayo to join him at breakfast. After all, one of the guards was already at Tatsumi's back, standing there at all times while the entrance to his tent flaps were flanked by more of them. Tatsumi also knew, with the instinct experienced fighters developed, that more of them were positioned in a perimeter all around his tent.

After Tatsumi was done freshening up, the servants had then been given permission to clean up his quarters and ready him for breakfast. They laid the food out for three people, as he'd requested, on the large mat that had replaced his sleeping cushions. Then Sayo and Ieyasu arrived, and they exchanged their customary morning pleasantries. Then the servants came back and laid out the meals, which were fresh and hot from the fire. They were served white bread crusted perfectly on the outside, a slab of honeycomb mired in sweet honey, many strips of sizzling bacon, several slices of hot eel pie, chopped pieces of creamy stewed pheasant, a large bowl filled with succulent vegetables and juicy fruits, several jars of both hot and cool milk, and a large pot of tea.

All told, his servants informed him that the food had been sourced from the four corners of the Empire, as per Prime Minister Honest's request, to "show the Emperor the wealth of his vast dominion". Personally, Tatsumi was just grateful for the variety of food available. The three of them were used to dried venison and crumbly biscuits, the usual fare for hunters on the prowl. Inside the village, everyone shared from a large pot of soup or stewed animal that had been hunted that day. On special occasions, there was roast, which usually meant a bounty of supplies.

"I knew he was up to something funny," Sayo remarked while frowning at their friend. "Had to give him a sock in the eye because he just barged inside my tent without even announcing himself. Gods above, have you no decency?"

Looking closer, Tatsumi could see Ieyasu did have a bruise over his eye. He flinched to imagine Sayo doing that, as she had one of the most powerful set of arms in the whole village. She routinely dominated arm-wrestling contests, especially when neither the elder nor a few of the veteran hunters participated.

"I don't mind the prank myself, man," Tatsumi said while picking at some eggs. "But I'm the Emperor now, and they expect some stuff from me that's way different than normal people. And I have to act the part, too."

"So… I get it. No more pranks."

Tatsumi shrugged. "At the very least, not one that'll have someone incorrectly identify you as an assassin or something and get you killed." Ieyasu understandably blanched when he glanced at the guard standing right behind Tatsumi.

"Well, alright, I'll watch myself. I was just getting kind of antsy back there. I mean, we're gonna be watching a battle and shit. With the fucking Ice Queen out there, too!"

They stared at him. "The… Ice Queen?" Tatsumi asked. "You're keen on her, Ieyasu? Why?"

"Well, you've heard the stories, right?" he said, as he drank more hot tea. "It's one thing to hear them, it's another to see them in person."

After a short silence, Sayo said, "It's a battle, Ieyasu. There's nothing interesting to see about it, except maybe seeing the blood flying."

"Well, why not? We're all used to it."

"I recall you puked when you had to carry Vasli's torn arm all the way back to the village."

Ieyasu's face turned green and he gagged. "Ugh…" The case of Vasli, who had been a veteran hunter in the village, served to keep reminding Tatsumi and his friends of the seriousness of having to fight Danger Beasts. One thing to always remember was that one did not fight them alone, unless they preferred to have their body torn apart and spread all over the forest for the villagers to have to gather. Tatsumi had carried his share of spilled offal in a rag, and had endured much the same reaction as Ieyasu in response to all the torn flesh and the reeking blood.

Thankfully, they were able to stave off discussing the bleak subject further when a messenger from General Abell arrived.

"He wishes to inform Your Majesty that the meeting shall be commencing after the troops' mess. That will be an hour from now."

"Okay," Tatsumi said. Thinking that sounded not too Emperor-like, he said, "Thank you for that, soldier."

"Er… I'm not a soldier, sir. I'm just a retainer to General Abell," the man replied, bowing. "Noncombatant."

"Oh, okay. Well, good work nonetheless." If he was a noncombatant then Tatsumi was the ultimate noncombatant. He could fight, and wanted to fight, but logic and all his advisors told him that he should remain out of it.

"Are we even allowed in the meeting?" Sayo asked.

"Why not?" Tatsumi said. "You're my bodyguards now. Though, I know Esdeth will be there, so please try not to anger her guys."

The Imperial banner was clear to see from here. So were the number of troops they had brought, which was represented in the thousands of tents that filled the horizon. That was not to mention the great, looming flying ships that, for the moment, were "docked" on the ground, which still made a considerable impression on everyone's mind.

It seemed the Emperor was indeed aiming for conquest. It was hard to misread the situation, as one did not bring live steel to a training spar, or just to talk. One did bring an army of that size to conquer, and none of the Revolutionary Army, nor the people of Folkis, would interpret it in any other way.

They had all taken turns spying on the camp from afar with their binoculars, as if they were eager to find a suitable ingress. But the camp was solid and formidable, as was usually the case for an army under General Esdeth's command. Therefore the only thing the members of Night Raid saw through the binoculars was the sheer implacable might of the Empire, which reignited in them the passion of rebellion that had led them to this point.

Upon their arrival at Folkis, their leader Najenda had immediately left to discuss matters with the local leadership. They had expected their contact in the Empire to have to fabricate an opportunity to draw the Emperor out of his fortified city. This was good fortune to have the Emperor sally forth personally. Of course, this came with a very dangerous factor coming into play: namely the presence of the brutal Ice Queen and her armies.

She was another high priority target for Night Raid. However, all viable plans against her remained squarely in the realm of impossibility. Standard methods of assassination were impossible with the many layers of insulation that protected the General from infiltration, while the woman herself was possessed of a keen danger sense that would detect a hidden blade or poison in the drink. Further, none of them had the raw power nor the tenacious skill to combat the Ice Queen openly, even at her worst, and to their memory she was never at her worst. Even the best of them, Akame, had admitted out loud that her skills could only suffice to delay Esdeth for a time. The only strategy Najenda had involved a full-on assault by all the Teigu-bearing users of the Revolutionary Army, and even that alone was just a fanciful scenario that had no realistic basis, nor plausible outcome.

Part of the reason for Najenda's disappearance, therefore, was to confer with the other leaders present to try and figure out a plan to deal specifically with Esdeth's presence. They'd already had a working plan, ever since they'd received the news from their contact, on how they would assassinate the Emperor. Esdeth may well ruin those ambitions, but they were determined to strike now that the opportunity had presented itself.

They were also concerned about the city of Folkis itself, particularly its people. They could sense it in the air, even as they walked down its streets or observed its people. For so long they had been free men and women, allowed to do whatever they wanted under the benevolent guidance of their courageous mayor, who'd risked his own life to defy the Imperial throne at a time when it would have cost him his head. And yet now, because of his efforts, the people of Folkis were able to live without fear of oppression, without being forced to provide exorbitant tribute to Honest's greedy hands, or being forced to join the Imperial army without any questions asked.

Night Raid whispered among themselves that the Army was just as likely to give up Folkis if it was needed. There hadn't been any serious fortifications of the area, given its close proximity to Imperial lands without any natural areas of terrain surrounding it that blocked or hindered the free movement of armies. Therefore, it was difficult to reinforce, especially on a shoestring budget.

Its status as an outpost, a major one at that, would mean a severe blow to their efforts if it was lost. This soon after the termination of the Buruskai outpost meant that things would become that much harder for the Resistance to retain their reach on the Empire's crucial fringes.

It was therefore imperative that they succeed. Even if it would mean wholly sacrificing themselves so that another may have the chance, or even sacrificing others just to seize the opportunity personally, every member of Night Raid was determined to see things through to the bitter, bloody end.

Najenda returned in the early morning, right before dawn. Her news was grim, as expected, but that didn't mean it was entirely without hope.

"Tilandr will not send reinforcements," she said. "They suspect Esdeth's presence here to be a feint, of sorts. They will not commit their forces to a drawn-out battle with her present, even if we do end up succeeding."

"That's crazy!" Lubbock exclaimed. "If we succeed here, then Esdeth or the other generals won't have a leg to stand on! It's the best time to take them all out, because they'd be all demoralized and shit."

"Or conversely, we'd have an army right at the doorstep of Folkis, an army that's gone 'rogue', in a sense. What's to stop them from venting their anger, or even worse, their bloodlust on the poor citizens?" Chelsea said next. "You've seen her armies firsthand. You know what lengths she allows them. The army must be here to reinforce them."

"We're all aware of that, but understand that we are at an impasse," Najenda said firmly. "Luck willing, we shall succeed in our plans and the Empire shall end before the week is out. And that is the only thing we can focus on, in order that it will become the future we have always sought. We cannot afford to think of what may come after, whether it's dealing with Esdeth or Honest or whoever it is who need to die. Our target is here, in Folkis, a chance well beyond all our hopes. So mark my words, I do not like the plans any more than you do, but I understand the weight, and the logic of it. Night Raid has a job to do. Now the matter remains: are you still willing to carry this through?"

She looked around, and though some of them looked like they wanted to protest, no one spoke up this time. "Good," she said. "I knew I could count on you all."

"What is the plan of attack?" Akame asked.

"We've just received word from our contact," Najenda said. "He's here, in the city, as we guessed. Unfortunately, his identity's on a need-to-know basis for now. But he has floated an idea that was interesting to the higher-ups, and to me as well." They all followed Najenda's pensive gaze towards Chelsea, who tilted her head in confusion.

"It appears we need to use Kanai's Cube, after all."

It felt silly standing there, in full view of all the soldiers down below, but he knew he had to do it. He felt that he hadn't needed General Abell's constant prodding to accept the task of standing on an elevated platform to watch over his assembled armies. He felt like he owed it to them somehow—as he would soon be sending them to their possible deaths, all for his sake.

Traditionally, the governors levied able-bodied men and women from each of the cities under their rule to join the ranks of the Imperial Army every three years. These conscripts started at the lowest level, and thus were "fodder and chaff", as General Abell put it bluntly, to be pointed enmasse in the direction of an enemy force. During times when the Army was not campaigning, these low-level troops were charged with menial tasks around the camp, doing work that they were used to from before they had been drafted like cooking, cleaning and occasionally the "comfort" of the higher ranks.

It was during this stage that much of these recruits were methodically chiseled away through death or desertion, until three years had passed since their recruitment. When that time came, they either consented to be permanently branded as "loyal" then freed from their duties, or were promoted into regulars, the next rank. As Tatsumi understood it, the "loyal" brands were a form of death sentence, something he had heard about when he was still in the village. It meant that someone had refused the offer of serving the Emperor, and was therefore treated as cowardly. Therefore it meant a harder time seeking employment from those who did not wish to associate with those branded by taboo. Even Tatsumi had thought of "loyals" as such, thinking they must have done something bad to be treated in such a way; it was only now that he learned that the brand was ironically supposed to congratulate a citizen for enduring service in the Emperor's name.

The regular soldiers weren't paid that much higher than conscripts. But at this stage they were accorded the chance to partake in the gathering of loot. When lands were conquered or rebels crushed, any loot an army seized through pillaging would be gathered up in a pile. The general and the other high-ranking officers snagged their share for however much they wanted, but tradition dictated that they leave a decent amount for their men, or they'd end up a "decently" laid corpse on the next morning. Loot therefore was a regular's primary way to supplement their pay, and was also the source of much of the attrition in the ranks. Over time, regulars, who were usually skirmishers, shock troops or backup to reinforce the main conscript army, often would die from being stabbed in the back for their treasure box than from battle.

Ascension for regulars followed several routes. If one had demonstrated a good enough thinking brain, the Imperial Navy was always ready to recruit more to crew their ships. The Navy had a separate culture entirely, where promotion relied entirely on one's desire to learn more about the workings of an airship, and some may even become pilots of the smaller escort ships. The hopeless cases were either kept forever as marines in Castellum-classes or sent back down to be a regular in an army.

Else, regulars could join the Cannoneer Corps, the replacement for the Knightly Orders when horses and therefore cavalry became outdated. These brave soldiers learned to master the cantankerous mobile cannons that were individually like replicas of the ironsides' great cannons, only fitted with a generally unstable and cheap version of the batteries used for normal horseless carriages. These batteries were essential to lugging around the large, box-like vehicle containing the cannon itself and all its ammunition, the cannon loading crew and the vehicle operators themselves. However, these batteries also carried a much greater risk of imploding, as no one in the Empire had yet to figure out a way to miniaturize the ironsides' great batteries without sacrificing performance. Being a cannoneer therefore was a frightful, dangerous career with few benefits, and was therefore reserved for those bloodthirsty individuals who longed to smash enemies and fortifications into pieces.

Lastly, a regular could hope to begin his or her ascent into the ranks of General. This usually meant being assigned the rank of sergeant, tasked with keeping discipline and maintaining order over the poorly-trained masses of conscripts, some of whom might take grave offense at being ordered around. If they prospered enough, they became captains of their own bands of regulars, where their tasks turned to reigning in the various quarrelsome personalities and trying to prevent the regulars from eating themselves from the inside out just for the sake of treasure. If they survived even that, while also surviving the many harrowing, near-death events that a soldier was expected to face in the Emperor's armies, then they needed to contend with fellow officers, who might share the same ambition. They soon became part of a hierarchy no less cutthroat than the regular ranks they had left. Only fierce martial skill, brilliant cunning or sheer dumb luck saw these souls ascend to become Generals.

Although Tatsumi had learned all that with great patience, that still didn't change the fact that looking out at all of the soldiers gathered below him, he was only able to see line after line of uniformed, faceless people. People he didn't know, and wouldn't even be able to know, without devoting his time to learning them. In the village he knew every one of his fellow hunters, because one could not entrust one's life to people they did not know. Yet here he was, expecting these people to go out and die for him, and he wouldn't even recall all their names. It sparked a feeling in Tatsumi that he honestly hadn't felt before.

"Tatsumi? Oi, Emperor, are you there?"

"Wai—huh?" He blinked, suddenly stirred by Ieyasu's voice. He turned towards his friend, who was waving a hand before his eyes.

"Oi, you alright? We've been trying to get your attention for like, a while. Something on your mind?"

"No, it's nothing," he said hastily. He looked around. "Was there something…?"

"Oh, right. A messenger came, said the meeting was about to start. Also said the Emperor could come at his leisure."

Tatsumi sighed. Although that did mean that he could wait for however long he needed and the people at the meeting had no choice but to shut up and wait for him before starting, he knew he couldn't just do that. Common courtesy, and the need to appear as dignified an Emperor as he can, meant he had to go.

He looked back down at the marching troops for one last time. "Yeah. Let's go."

The moment would be marked for eras yet to come as the most seminal of Tatsumi's reign. In the greater scheme of things, it was an insignificant event—just a military meeting involving the most recent campaign initiated by the new Emperor, Tatsumi. Yet the consequences of this meeting continued to reverberate far into the future, when Tatsumi's descendants would become as numerous as the stars in the sky.

At stake was the city of Folkis, and to a greater extent, the territories of the Revolutionary Army, whom the Emperor had finally decided to eliminate in a grand campaign, all to serve the vision of his rule. Therefore, two armies and a fleet had been sent as a vanguard force: General Abell was head of the Emperor's escort, General Esdeth was leader of the main force, and Admiral Kyuson watched over the ironside that had brought Abell and the Emperor here.

None of the people who had initially arrived at the meeting tent had no idea of the provenance of the events that were to come. In one corner was Admiral Kyuson, a lean, mustachioed, middle-aged man with sunburnt skin, nursing a cup of coffee to wipe away the stupor of the previous night. Beside him were two female officers, whose names would be lost to time.

Recently arrived in the tent was General Abell, the portly General who had been so helpful to his Master. His large bulk almost made him look comical in his general's uniform and the many medals and lapels he wore, were it not for the quiet, weasel-like cunning that flashed through his eyes from time to time as he surveyed his surroundings. Flanking him were his captains Yoran and Quenid, both gloomy-looking men who were as fragile twigs besides their superior's superior size.

General Esdeth arrived next, accompanied with a fantastic blast of cold wind that battered the tent. She marched proud and tall, her figure statuesque, her cold unfeeling gaze sweeping over the gathered soldiers with the energy and surety of a predator wetting its snout in the watering hole. None present dared challenge her gaze.

The only subordinate she brought was one who might be considered the biggest elephant in the room, for he was as infamous as his mistress among those present. It was not in any way remarkable, though: this was the disgraced former General River, once a brilliant general in the Empire's service. Near the end of the succession war, he had been involved in a scandal where his rank and accomplishments were rubbed out, and he was sentenced to rot for all eternity in a forgotten prison. Still, he managed to claw out of that darkness, though he had transformed into something entirely different. He had then seemingly offered his unique experience and military insight to Esdeth's cause, and had been definitively transformed into a loyal dog of his former peer. They kept such mockeries to themselves, as the man yet possessed his own Teigu, and also, who knew how the mistress would react to its dog being insulted besides that? Better to treat Liver like he was just another subordinate.

The wolves were thus gathered, each trusting no one other, each disdainful of the others, in their own way. Yes, even the great Ice Queen was looked askance by both Abell and Kyuson, each prejudiced in their own ways of one whom they perceived to be a wild, uncontrollable predator that should be put down at the earliest convenience. And of course, the less said of Esdeth's open contempt for her peers, the better.

Such was the situation inside the tent when fate thus decreed Tatsumi's entrance: he who was the final architect of this momentous event.

The Emperor was unassuming at first glance in his military suit, his size easily dwarfed by both Abell in terms of girth and Esdeth in height. And yet in that brief moment those inside saw a being swathed in a cloak of darkness, vengeful and silent. It was like a shadow playing behind him, snarling at those who stared with monstrous, twisted shapes flickering in and out of focus, all from the cover of a young and guileless man.

It was later generally agreed that this impression very likely stemmed from the Teigu the Emperor had first chosen. Yet there were those who disagreed, and thought this was but a portent of all that would stem from this young man's cloak. For however much many would claim that destiny was the provenance of the gods, it was also just as easily said that greatness inevitably stemmed from the truly great. Though the Emperor would not realize it, his every action from here on would dictate the fate of millions of people living, and those yet unborn.

Regardless, the moment passed, and the Emperor greeted his generals, before approaching the table upon which their battle plans had been laid out. The moment passed; and there they all stood now, on the cusp of history.

"Good morning," Tatsumi said, his tone light, but authoritative. "I hope everyone is ready?"

"Aye, my lord," Admiral Kyuson was quick to answer first. "Cheerful day for a spot of massacre, aye?"

"Admiral, please," General Abell said, as if exasperated. He tapped on the maps laid out on the table. "My lord…"

"Please do not misunderstand," Tatsumi said, looking to each of his generals one after the other. "By my command, there shall be no massacres today—at least, not of those who do not fight. Spare those who lay down their arms, I say, and let those who lived by the sword die by it."

"That is naïve," Esdeth cut in ruthlessly. "Boy, this is war. There is no need to walk softly. Should it be their time to pass, then let them all die, choking on your Imperial vengeance. You will not stifle me and my men by issuing orders of mercy like that."

Tatsumi shook his head vehemently. "I give you leave to kill however you wish, General Esdeth, especially those who have long raised their arms in rebellion against the Empire. But leave the citizens for the Empire to absorb, to be once more placed under our protection."

"That is the thinking of the weak."

"Those weak citizens shall be my strength!" Tatsumi cried, slamming his small pointing stick on the table. "When peacetime comes and they all return to the correct thinking of serving the Empire, I assure you they will be encouraged to work to the bone, and if they will not be encouraged then they will be forced. They will feed my soldiers, feed my war, and ultimately feed our Empire, and I will not let you or anyone else undermine my strength, General! Spare my workers, or spare me your presence in my army."

A large, almost palpable emotion seemed to coalesce between the two: Emperor and General. Though Esdeth's face showed no emotion, those who knew her best, like Liver, recognized the tempest that brewed inside this tent, with his mistress at the very center of it all. And yet, though her gaze could pierce the hearts of the stoutest mercenary and leave them a blubbering wreck, the Emperor stared back, his anger hot and obvious but no less diminished. Indeed, something seemed to arise from behind the Emperor, an indistinct, flickering shadow that seemed to sense the brewing conflict, and somehow reveled in it.

Though Tatsumi had a healthy fear of Esdeth, and respected her skills as a general, he nonetheless stood firm. For Tatsumi had a much greater fear: to upset the order imposed by the Judgments laid down by his predecessors. Enough had been lost, and much had been disrupted, since the dawn of the Revolutionary Army, that he knew it would not take long for the whole foundation to collapse under the slightest pressure. Order had to be maintained, cities wrestled from rebellious influence, and rebellion itself muzzled, so that the Empire Tatsumi had inherited wouldn't fall down around him, with his name forever etched as the architect of the demise of so great an institution.

It was then that General Abell cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence. "… It is my pleasure to report that the supply route has been finalized just over an hour ago. We have received word from the Governors assuring us that the schedule will be followed to the letter."

"Good," Tatsumi said, without breaking eye contact with Esdeth. Her stare was frigid and piercing, and it was getting harder and harder not to blink, but he was determined not to look away.

"There is the matter of maintaining a link… in Folkis directly. Reports indicate that the rebellious mayor is still doing his part ruling this city in the name of the rebellion… Should we be sparing him, then my lord?"

Folkis had become unique in that several of its bordering towns were far enough geographically from it to form a technical sort of barrier when it came to a military standpoint. It just so happened, then, that the cities they would need to capture after Folkis were also far enough away from any other town that Folkis itself was vital as a crossroads to keeping a supply train going. When Ieyasu had asked over breakfast how it would be easier to just use the airships to go around, Tatsumi had found himself giving a lecture on why that was a stupid, wasteful thing to do, what with all the ether they would have to consume. Smaller, even horse-drawn caravans would have to do.

To conclude then, Folkis' economic value to Tatsumi was great, and its strategic value even more so. Whether or not the rebels realized this would perhaps be crucial to their reaction to Tatsumi's intended campaign from here on.

Tatsumi clucked his tongue. "The mayor will be imprisoned to await Imperial justice," he said. "The Empire will then occupy the city temporarily until the mines can be made to work."

"Ah… speaking of the mines, my lord…" Abell continued.

Tatsumi's first and primary directive was the recapture of Folkis and its many lucrative mines that were scattered all around the hills. He would have preferred that the city surrender of their own free will, as it would lead to less bloodshed. With that, they would be able to start working in the newly liberated mines for his benefit, while the campaign continued in an orderly manner. He had hoped for their surrender from the beginning, right when he'd boarded the ironside that took him here.

Reality, however, proved to frustrate his desires. Surrender seemed far from the city's mind, as General Abell had been quick to report before he'd gone to sleep last night.

"Our spies have reported that the general mood of the city continues to be highly defiant, my lord. They seemed to believe in their heads that they would be able to withstand the Empire's assault no matter what. They seemed to have placed their ultimate faith in these rebels whom they continue to support."

"If they're that confident," Tatsumi had said. "Then surely there must be a reason."

"Yes, we had been thinking about that as well. Impossible though it may sound, perhaps the rebels have concocted some secret counter-measure, some stratagem that would ensure their superiority. It is either that, or it is merely false bravado on their parts, my lord. In any case, your army is ready to serve."

Returning to the matter of the mines, Esdeth's scouts had reported sightings of a major rebel presence that now swarmed all over the hills upon spotting the General's arrival. This meant that not only were the mines littered with rebels, there was an even greater chance that they had manipulated the area to their advantage, such as constructing elaborate tunnel networks or secret caverns hidden behind false doors.

This thus led to a situation where capturing the mines and defeating every last remnant of the rebel presence there would most likely take some time, and would thus delay the campaign. And if what the General surmised in the previous night was true, then perhaps they were also hiding some sort of secret weapon inside those tunnels, which would explain Folkis' general confidence in spite of great odds.

"...They have been unable to confirm any rumors of secret weapons hidden in those mines," General Abell said, in the present. "Only that there are rebels present there."

By this point, Esdeth's ire towards him seemed to have faded, as she went to stand before the table without saying another word to Tatsumi. Instinct told him that he was far from safe from her reprisal, however he was willing to take whatever small victories or draws he could get away with. It would at least help him focus on the really important things.

"I suppose the rebels have still got their ridiculous 'canisters' lining up the place?" Admiral Kyuson said.

"It was the first thing we saw when we got here," Esdeth said in grumbling voice. "The cowards."

"Why dintcha throw your men into that explosive grind eh? Clear a path for the Emperor?"

"I refuse to commit my men to an ignoble end. Scattered to pieces by traps laid so obviously on the ground." Esdeth shook her head violently. "It is no way to die."

"Ah, but you would not object if they did die from stepping on an invisible mine down in the labyrinth, aye?"

"Of course," Esdeth replied, with a scoff, as if there were no other possible answer.

"Currently, we have estimated that the area that is littered with the mines to be around this size," one of the unnamed retainers said, pointing to a red smear on a section of the map.

"That's at least a two mile strip," Esdeth remarked.

Admiral Kyuson whistled. "With that amount of mines jammed into place, I wonder why those folks didn't pay for barrels of wine instead of gunpowder instead. That can't have been cheap."

Abell frowned. "We may be dealing with a 'Numanis', General. did your soldiers…?"

"They tried at random, using arrows," Esdeth cut in quickly. "They're most definitely real. And most definitely explosive."

Tatsumi looked between the two of them. "What's a Numanis?" he asked.

"It's shorthand for a deception tactic," Abell explained. "It's used to describe a change in the presence of anything on the battlefield so as to make it appear as any other. For instance, those mines they laid out here may just look like mines on the outside, even if they're really just empty barrels. If a foe is successfully fooled and changes his plans because of it, then the tactic has worked."

"Oh, so it's like a sort of camouflage then?" Certain Danger Beasts were able to disguise themselves sometimes, usually as a tree or a particularly shaped snowdrift. "Hum… So is there no way to clear them out?"

The three military-minded people in the room shook their heads. "It is never feasible to clear out a placed field; we leave that clean-up to the citizens," Abell said. "It costs us time, a most important thing we cannot give to the enemy."

"And all the while it gives them the initiative in the field," Esdeth said. She gestured to a spot behind the city, in the middle of the hills said to be harboring hostile rebels. "If we commit to methodically clearing out the field, that gives them more time to organize a strike, maybe even several. Thus, it forces us to forsake approaching the city from the front and instead commit to assaulting their tunnel networks here and methodically clearing them out."

Tatsumi found himself frowning. While technically the soldiers of his armies were expected to die gloriously in service of him, Tatsumi still found it distasteful to have so many men die for his sake like that. Especially since the conscripts were to be the ones to navigate the hills and explore the tunnels first, when it came to it.

"We could try the aerial option."

"Oh right." All eyes went to the Admiral, who raised his hands and shrugged.

"It's certainly doable," he rumbled. "It'll cost some precious ether, true, but it will help occupy the city better if we just send in troops from the sky." Tatsumi's ear pricked at the mere mention of ether being wasted. Over time he had become quite sensitive to ether being mentioned in his earshot, particularly since it usually involved using the precious ether. More often than not, it ended up making him think of the relative cost of the ether wasted in terms of gold and goods of comparative value. Just the thought of fueling all that mobile artillery stationed outside made him queasy. "Of course, we also have another option entirely…" The man glanced at Esdeth.

"That is certainly an option," Abell rumbled. "However, I do not think General Esdeth would like that."

"Like what?" Tatsumi asked.

"It would be child's play for me to freeze the whole field, allowing our soldiers to pass through without triggering the mines," Esdeth explained. "But that would defeat the purpose of bringing an army here. You may as well order me to wage war on the city all by myself. Would you… want that, 'my lord'?" Her elegant face turned to face him. "Save the lives of the soldiers by ordering me to be your attack dog?"

Tatsumi actually made to look as if he was considering it. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and took long enough that the other people in the tent suddenly had a deep sense of foreboding. Though Esdeth's expression never changed, it was clear that something fierce was going to pounce soon.

However, the moment quickly passed, as Tatsumi sighed and shook his head. "That won't do. I don't know you much, General, except all that I've heard about you. And while I consider that enough to give you a healthy amount of respect, (and praise besides, because you're working for the Empire's benefit after all) it's still not enough for me to consider you as something invincible. Something out there may end up doing you in, after all, and where would that leave me?"

"That's true," Esdeth said slowly after a long pause. "There may be something out there."

"However, the fact that we can freeze that field is definitely an asset we cannot ignore. May I ask you to do that?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That would invalidate this whole battle, Emperor."

"But is it not a dishonorable tactic? You said that yourself, I heard you," Tatsumi then raised a finger. "And also, who's to say that's the whole extent of the rebels' preparations? What if they've booby trapped the city once you got in? Well now, wouldn't that still work for you?" Tatsumi clenched his fists. He still felt bad for having to sacrifice so many soldiers like that. "Plus, even with the city itself in our grasp, there's still those tunnels to clear out. I need—the Empire needs those mines. As soon as possible."

"… The Emperor speaks rightly, General," Abell said, a bit hesitantly. "With this tactic we can secure the city on this day, which will allow us to fortify it ourselves, and use it as another staging ground for the next phase, which is to take the hills."

Tatsumi was grateful for General Abell's assistance.

Esdeth sighed. "Oh, very well. It is a workable plan, on the outside. Rest assured, I will also make sure the inhabitants of that city come to no harm, unless they fight me first."

"Cause no massacres, I pray," Tatsumi repeated. "Leave my workers alone."

She snorted. "And, I repeat, this is war, Emperor. And we are Generals, made to wage war. Bloodshed cannot be wholesale avoided."

"I must also agree with the General, my lord," Abell said, in a surprising turn. "Hesitation in the field can only get you killed. Mercy is, as General Esdeth says, for the weak."

"I know that full well," Tatsumi rejoined. In hunting Danger Beasts, after all, the slightest misstep could be instant death. "That being said, I am placing my trust wholly in your discretion. We are not all beasts, slavering for blood. At the least, I don't expect my generals to be that way."

A long silence followed, during which none of the generals said anything. Esdeth shrugged to herself, while Abell had an inscrutable look on his face. Finally, it was Kyuson who said, "Well, with that settled, how do we set about capturing the tunnels? High chance for them to be even more booby-trapped, or lined with more hidey holes for the rebels than we care to count. Then where does that leave our campaign?"

Tatsumi glanced at Abell. Though technically Tatsumi would be the one calling the shots, he had already professed to being unused to military matters during the meeting at the Capital. Therefore Abell was tasked to head the strategic course of the campaign, insofar as he would be the one to point where Esdeth was to go, and of how the ultimate campaign against the rebellion would be prosecuted.

"My army will stay behind," Abell said. "And root out the rebels. Because the city will have been secured, however, we can already start using it as a base of operations, regardless of the continuing operations. If we need help, reinforcements from the Capital will also be coming on the next week, which will 'start the snowball rolling', so to speak. As such, if there shall be no problems with capturing the city today, we can start sending General Esdeth towards the mountain fortress at Tabang." The general pointed to a red dot close to a picture of a forest. "It is the least tactically defensive fortress, but it is a key to link up with Governor Imisol to the west to open up a second supply chain."

"So wait, does that mean I'm going to stay behind?" Tatsumi asked.

Abell looked surprised. "Why, yes, my lord. We shall have to take over the offices here, until the Governor can assign a new mayor. Even then, we'd still need to be here… Hrmm…" The man faltered at the look on Tatsumi's face. "…Well, I'm sure we can arrange for someone else to take over your escort duties, my lord."

"What's this? You want to get in on the action that badly, Emperor?" Esdeth asked. "Is it your desire to lead from the front?"

"Not in that way," Tatsumi said, a little defensively. "I just want to have a more… personal hand with all this."

"General, if the Emperor wishes it be so, then let it be," Abell said. "We shall certainly endeavor to acquiesce to your request, my lord. I can have word sent to the Capital that a new strategic head for this campaign be found, so that I may lead an army in your name while escorting you. Do bear in mind we may need an Admiral or two, like Admiral Kyuson here, to help protect you, so it will mean several resources diverted from the campaign… but I am sure we will manage. There is a big chance that General Esdeth will be able to reach far better results than we anticipated, is it not true?"

"I do not wish to assault Tilandr with nothing but the best," said Esdeth.