Chapter 30: Eastern Alliance

Chapter 30: Eastern Alliance

The sky above Moon Province burned crimson with the flames of rebellion. The once-proud city of Akarah—the largest and wealthiest hub of the southern provinces—lay in ruins. Smoke coiled into the heavens, carrying with it the scent of scorched earth and spilled blood.

Commander Than Zeya, the Imperial officer tasked with defending the province, stood atop the remnants of the southern wall, gripping his sword with white-knuckled desperation. The battlements, once manned by thousands, were now reduced to a handful of terrified survivors.

Below, the enemy army surged like a relentless tide.

The Southern Rebellion, fueled by religious zealotry and backed by foreign supplies, had transformed from a disorganized insurgency into a military force capable of toppling an Imperial stronghold. Their banners—marked with the sigil of the Creator Sun—waved proudly against the ash-filled sky.

The enemy commander, a man clad in crimson robes and a crown of gold thorns, raised his sword and bellowed:

"The Creator reigns! The Supreme is false! Death to the Pagan Empire!"

The rebel forces roared in unison, storming the gates with newfound ferocity. War elephants adorned with spiked armor shattered barricades, while trebuchets launched fire-laden boulders into the heart of the city.

Commander Than Zeya turned to his adjutant, a trembling young man covered in soot.

"Sound the retreat," he ordered, voice heavy with defeat. "Get as many civilians out as you can."

"But, Commander—"

"That's an order!"

The adjutant hesitated, then saluted and fled.

Than Zeya remained. His eyes swept across the dying city one last time. His heart ached not just for the loss of Moon Province, but for what this defeat signified:

The South had fallen.

And with it, the Empire's weakest flank was exposed.

The final line of defense crumbled as the enemy surged through the gates. Than Zeya took a deep breath, raised his sword, and charged into the horde.

Far to the east, in the Kingdom of Zaharat, eight rulers gathered within the Ivory Hall, a colossal chamber carved from a single mountain of white stone. The polished marble floor reflected the flickering glow of enchanted lanterns. The air was thick with tension as the leaders of the Eastern nations took their seats around a circular obsidian table.

The King of Zaharat, Azim al-Malik, presided over the meeting. Clad in gold-trimmed robes, his hawk-like eyes scanned the assembled rulers with cold precision. To his right stood a massive map of the Pagan Empire, marked with fresh ink that depicted the fall of Moon Province.

He tapped the map with a golden scepter.

"The Empire bleeds," he declared. "The mighty Pagan leviathan has lost its southern shield. The time for hesitation is over. We must strike while their defenses are weak."

The hall murmured with cautious agreement.

The Eastern Nations Represented:

Kingdom of Zaharat – The largest and most prosperous eastern kingdom. Known for its disciplined cavalry and advanced alchemy. (Leader: King Azim al-Malik)

Principality of Venaira – A maritime power with a formidable navy. (Leader: Princess Selene of the Azure Tides)

Sultanate of Qashir – Wealthy desert kingdom controlling vital trade routes. (Leader: Sultan Rashid ibn Jafar)

The Five Clans of Azura – A tribal confederation with fierce warrior traditions. (Leader: Chieftain Gora Windfang)

The Duchy of Ilsar – A heavily fortified state with a powerful siege corps. (Leader: Duke Orlan de Firais)

The Republic of Dhakar – A mercantile oligarchy with spies embedded deep in Imperial territory. (Leader: Magistrate Senka Varrin)

The Holy Theocracy of Zelena – A devout nation aligned with the Creator faith. (Leader: High Priestess Eliora Venaria)

The Kingdom of Taurenholt – A land of beastkin warriors. (Leader: King Bragnar of the Iron Hoof)

King Azim al-Malik:

"Moon Province has fallen. The southern gates of the Empire lie open. We have waited generations for this moment. If we act now, we can fracture their power permanently."

Princess Selene: (adjusting her sapphire circlet)

"Your Highness, while their southern provinces are in disarray, their heartland remains untouched. The capital is protected by fortresses, and the royal army is still intact."

Sultan Rashid: (stroking his bejeweled beard)

"The Empire is like a camel with a broken leg. It may thrash, but it cannot run. The Court is divided, the Crown Prince a fool. And the Second Prince? A nobody. A concubine's child."

The rulers chuckled, though Princess Selene's expression remained thoughtful.

Duke Orlan de Firais:

"Even so, the Empire's military tradition is not to be underestimated. We must strike strategically."

Chieftain Gora Windfang: (gripping his battle-axe)

"My clans do not fear war. The Empire has trampled smaller nations for centuries. It's time they tasted our steel."

The hall stirred with murmurs of agreement.

High Priestess Eliora Venaria stood, her white robes shimmering with divine runes. Her voice, though soft, carried with it the authority of zeal.

"The Empire is founded upon the heretical worship of the Supreme Being. The Creator is the only true god. This war is not merely one of conquest—it is a holy crusade. Our faith demands the destruction of their blasphemous dynasty."

King Azim smiled.

"And when their lands are divided, your theocracy will have freedom to spread its faith."

Eliora inclined her head. "The Creator wills it."

King Bragnar of Taurenholt, a massive beastkin with iron horns protruding from his skull, slammed a fist on the table.

"My people have fought Empire soldiers for decades to keep our borders safe. We will fight again. But if we do this, we must strike swiftly and decisively. A prolonged war will bleed us dry."

Azim nodded.

"Which is why we must commit fully. If we seize the blacksmiths land of Eastern province, we will deprive the Empire of weaponry—the lifeblood producer of their war machine. And straight to the capital."

The map shifted, revealing the mountainous province and its strategic significance.

Princess Selene tapped the map.

"What of the Duke Swan Ya Zar? He is at the peak of human being. Undefeated Warrior. If we march on that province, we risk our forces and casualties will be high."

Sultan Rashid: (grinning)

"Don't worry. I have trained a battalion of assassins for this and even if he is one of the strongest in the human terms he cannot handle the whole battalion of assassins." That is the fact level 25 of human peak warrior or magus can be restrain or killed by 100 of the level 20 warriors or magus. How about level 20 of 1000 soldiers battalion? The fate is decided for the Duke.

The hall buzzed with cautious agreement.

King Azim stood.

"The Eastern Alliance is born today. We move in one month. First, we will support the southern rebellion with arms and men. Then, we march on Eastern Province. And finally… the capital of Pagan shall fall."

He extended his hand.

One by one, the rulers joined him.

The Eastern Alliance had been forged.

**The Empire's Court **In the heart of the Imperial Capital, the Court of Ministers convened. The Crown Prince, Min Ye Kyaw Htin, lounged on the Golden Throne, his expression one of utter disinterest.

The royal spymaster knelt before him.

"Your Highness, Moon Province has fallen. The southern rebellion is gaining ground."

The Crown Prince yawned.

"Rebellions? We are un rivaled by that ants. Just bring me news about the second prince has fallen. Not this unimportant information."

"But, Your Highness—"

"Enough. Send a token force. This will resolve itself."

The ministers exchanged uneasy glances.

No one dared question the heir apparent.

Far away, in Khachin Province, Jason stood atop the palace walls, watching the snow settle over the city. His bond with Yvraine had calmed the mountains, but his instincts told him that the storm was far from over.

A shadow agent appeared beside him, kneeling.

"Your Highness. We have intercepted communication from the East."

Jason's eyes narrowed.

"The Eastern nations?"

The agent handed him a parchment.

Jason read it once, twice. His jaw tightened.

"The Eastern Alliance… has declared war."

The battle was no longer confined to the mountains.

The Empire was now besieged on all fronts.

Jason turned to the horizon and whispered:

"So it begins."