A Generals’ conversation

January 1731 City of Ber, Province of Ciresia, Osterian Empire.

The silence felt heavy. Three generals felt a mixture of fear and awe at the new information presented to them. The ground beneath them almost breaking from the weight those secret held.

Warner rests his chin on his hand, his mind a whirlwind of thought. "But how? How could they increase someone's magical capacity?"

"With the complete depletion of magical veins followed by a rapid replenishment. It opens apart said reserves and increases its capacity." said Weissman.

Warner can only lower his head as Beck hissed in pain.

Klein merely asks, "That's painful, isn't it?"

"It is."

"How much of an increase are we even talking about here? Because with that much pain, it better be worth it." Beck interjects.

"By approximately point zero one percent."

Becks slams his hands, demanding answers.

"How can he do that, then? The sheer amount of magic he performed shouldn't be possible with such a miniscule increase." He turns to him in frustration before awe sets in, "Unless."

With his words, Klein widens his eyes in shock and horror. He murmurs, "He did it every day, didnt he?"

His eyes then ignite in fury as he clenches his fist. "He did such horrendous exercise every day without fail?"

His eyes turn to him, "Why? His highness was aware of it, wasn't he? That was his own son! His own flesh and blood suffering endless torture and he let it happen!"

Weissman lowers his head in, his expression in deep consternation, "House Inzern has relentlessly used their afforded power to block all sorts of reforms unless Prince Friedrich is named heir."

He looks to his men in grim determination, "His highness would not allow that."

The three men grit their teeth in frustration, aware of the issues their army has fought against for the last decade. The stench of noble corruption wiggling itself up through the ranks.

Klein then spoke, "But that doesn't explain why his highness would even let his son suffer such pain!"

"Ha! You think that bastard cares? He has a dozen sons and half a dozen wives. Why would one even matter to him?"

"He would matter if he had insurmountable power in both magic and influence within the military." Warner says, his hand clenched together.

"Is that it!" Klein roars as he stood.

"You plan to use a boy's grief to push your own agenda! Your own desires! Hasn't he had enough!"

"Oh c'mon. The boy isn't grieving anymore. He was more than capable of doing that shit by himself and besides it's not like they're forcing him to do so. So calm yourself and sit down." Beck replies, dismissing his concerns with a wave.

Klein glares at him, "Why don't you make me?"

Beck stands up, "What if I do?"

Their eyes turn alight in anger as magic drowns their tent, the two men ready to face off only to be interrupted.

"SIT DOWN!" shouts Weissman.

The two snarls at one another as they sat back down, their eyes locked, their anger pouring through before a voice cuts through.

"So, what do we do now?"

Everyone looks to Warner in confusion. He merely continued, "Osteria and most likely the rest of Ervipia will know of this monster you've been keeping."

He looks at Weissman, "And they will not be happy. So, how do you plan on using him?"

Klein snarls at his words, "I thought you were better than that. Debasing yourself in such a manner and using the boy for your own purposes. Where is your honor!?"

Warner glances back, "My honor resides with my kingdom and I have chosen to do what's best for my kingdom."

"That's…" Klein chokes on his words.

Warner then taps his finger, "Drissia needs reforms. A fact we could all agree on, after all, we barely won a battle that the Old Drissia could've easily crushed."

Beck then spoke up, "Then what the fuck are we supposed to do about the Osterians? They would probably spread the intel about the monster you're keeping."

"There's nothing else we could do. What's best is that we use the opportunity given to us and use it to its fullest capacity. While we still hold an advantage of surprise."

He clenches his fist in frustration. "So, I propose to have him declared as a hero and promoted to General. The quick ascent would be controversial and will gather the necessary attention we need."

Klein only sighs, "So, that's it? We're just going to throw away our honor and bet all of it to a kid. A kid we'll have tasked with the job to clean the festering wound we left to rot so long ago."

Weissman winces at the thought before nodding, his mind made up, "Yes, a great idea Warner. He'll be promoted to brigadier general and left with five thousand soldiers to his name."

Beck grins, "If he continues on with such great achievements, the Drissian military would have no choice but have him ascend the ranks, replacing at least one of those shitty noble."

"I cannot believe this." muttered Klein. His eyes downcast at their attitudes, deigning to remain silent through the rest of their discussion, his mind a mess of thoughts and emotions.

Warner nods, ignoring Klein and the wiggle of conscience hidden in his mind, "Then with all your agreement, I would propose another plan to showcase his strength and that is to push forward the City of Cir then Fort Bien."

He taps the map before him. "We need to put his strength to the forefront, leaving no doubt to his capabilities as both a general and a mage. I plant that at the end of this war, Drissia would clamor his name, leaving him a viable candidate for the throne."

"Isn't that a bit much? The latest intel says their reinforcement would leave us outnumbered two to one."

Weissman looks to the map. "It is better this way. Time is of the essence. If we wait for reinforcements, we risk for more Osterian reinforcements as their Alteman front wins more battles."

Klein merely stayed silent as his peers prepare a plan to have the boy ascend into unseen heights of power, all to stand against a House they were too afraid to fight themselves.

"What a mess."