Unrest in the Holy Empire

“Thirty thousand, you say? You’re certain?”

In the Azurite Palace in the capital, Emperor Hector Gaius the 4th and his two eldest sons were receiving a report from a rider from Cliff’s Edge.

Emperor Hector was in his early fifties, his blonde hair had started turning grey; his once vibrant, ambitious blue eyes had lost most of their spark and seemed weary with the world.

His sons, Julius and Augustus, looked exactly like how he did when he was in his early twenties except Augustus, the second prince, wore glasses and the first prince Julius’s hair was cut very short.

Prince Julius was an experienced general in the Holy Legion of the Empire and Prince Augustus was the head of the Advisory Council that was made up of lords and ladies he’d handpicked from across the empire.

“Yes, your majesty. While I had to count them from far away on horseback, I believe that this estimate is accurate.”

“I see. Good work. Guards, see to it that this man is fed and looked after, and pay him generously for his service.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” The man bowed deeply before he was escorted out of the room.

Once the doors closed, the emperor’s expression darkened.

“How did this happen? How could an undead horde appear out of nowhere and slaughter so many of our people without us knowing sooner than this?”

“I’m unsure, father,” Augustus answered. “I hadn’t received any word about this attack, or that there was anything out of the ordinary at the Shadow Tombs.”

“I thought your information network was the greatest in the empire,” Julius said.

“It is. Between my council members, we have over a thousand spies and informants across the empire alone.”

“In that case, if you didn’t hear of this until now, is there a possibility of someone on the council being involved in the attack on Black Port that tried to cover it up?”

“Who on the council could possibly benefit from destroying one of our key port cities?” The emperor asked.

“A traitor who has sold us out?”

“To whom?” Augustus folded his arms. “We have an alliance with our neighbours in the west and the nations to our north wouldn’t risk something so foolish as to try and wage war against us.”

“Augustus, your opinion is that this is a natural disaster and not a scheme from an enemy nation?” Emperor Hector checked.

“It is, father.”

Emperor Hector nodded and turned to Julius. “If your brother says as much, then we will treat this situation as such.”

“As you say, father,” Julius said with a small bow. “Then, father, speed is absolutely paramount in this matter.”

“Agreed. The longer we take to deal with this crisis, the more our people will suffer and die. Julius, how soon could you mobilize a taskforce to handle this?”

“If I set off now, I could get my men ready to march come sunrise tomorrow.”

“How many men do you have here?” Augustus asked.

“Twenty thousand. I could send out riders to gather reinforcements from the local lords and from the Paladins. With your blessing, father, I will use my imperial authority to have them march all eight thousand members to assist us.”

“I permit it,” Emperor Hector said. “Send out the call to arms for every lord and fortress in the Gold Lands and Silverten to join your army ten miles from Black Port. Make camp, organise your forces and retake the south-east. Do not expect the undead horde to remain in Black Port forever. They will likely attack other locations in the south before moving north.”

“What of the Shadow Tombs, father?” Augustus inquired. “Shouldn’t we send a team to investigate the ruins to see if they can be destroyed once and for all?”

“That is what your mission shall be, Augustus,” Emperor Hector answered. “Send word to all the adventurer guild branches in the empire to dispatch all C-ranked or higher adventurers to your brother at his camp. Julius, once there, I will leave it to you to allocate your forces to handle this crisis before it spreads any further.”

“Of course, father.”

“Excellent. I want this crisis resolved as soon as possible, but do not rush this. The last thing I want is more of our people dying to this plague than needs be. Handle this safely and efficiently. Augustus, see what you and the council members can do to support them. Supplies, information, tents, medicines, potions and whatever else you can think of. If it can help them, give it to them.”

“By your command!” The emperor’s sons answered.

***

In Stonefall, riots had broken out with thousands taking to the streets.

“The Archbishop was right! Darkness has descended on the empire!”

“What's the legion going to do about this?”

“Fool! They can’t do anything about it.”

“Themis has decreed our destruction! We have failed her.”

“What happens if the undead horde moves north? If Black Port fell, doesn’t that mean we could be next?!”

“Remember the words, everyone! Death Stalks All!” A crier yelled.

A few people in the crowd repeated those words as the guards grew ever more tense.

One slight push would be enough for the situation to escalate and get truly violent and uncontrollable.

Mania and Mímir watched on from the roof of the cathedral, hidden from prying eyes by the spymaster’s magic; she was sat on the edge whilst he stood behind her

“Should we give them one more push?” Mania licked her lips as she kicked her feet eagerly.

“A tempting idea, but now is not the time. When the Demon Emperor is ready to rise, then we can push Stonefall to its demise.”

Mania pouted a little, but quickly smiled once more as she laughed at the terrified crowd.

Mania dug her nails into the stone roof in an effort to contain herself, but it didn’t calm her down.

I really want to see them suffer more. She bit her lip. Hmm, I want to do it just a little bit, but-

“I have some prisoners for you to play with at the castle,” Mímir sighed. “Simply be patient and satisfy yourself with them.”

Mania beamed, but she quickly scowled and said, “If you’re trying to woo me, I’m afraid that my heart belongs to-”

“Only his majesty could love a woman like you. I’m sure he’s eagerly waiting for you at the castle.”

“…Hey, Mímir.”

“What?”

“Don’t you think we should rename Castle Kelsey? To something more befitting the Demon Emperor?”

“I’ve had the same idea, but his majesty is a busy man and I have not found an opportunity to do so. Do you have a name you want to suggest?”

Mania giggled and shrugged her shoulders. “I imagine Master has a name he wishes to use over ours.”

“Then, if you had the chance, what would you name the castle?”

Mania looked down at the crowd again and purred.

“How does the Dread Keep sound?”

***

With a distraught shout, Sylvan knocked almost everything off of his desk, before slamming his fist onto the table.

“How did this happen?! How are they all dead?”

Ever since the meeting with the leaders of the Sons of Tartarus, Sylvan had lost almost all of his spies and agents trying to investigate Castle Kelsey.

The first group had been found brutally murdered the morning after they’d received their orders.

Sylvan sent men to investigate their deaths, but they were never heard from again.

So, Sylvan changed his strategy. He sent men to Cliff’s Edge to investigate Lord Anthony Kelsey’s trip he’d taken with his daughter, but they vanished without a trace.

Within just a few weeks, more than half of Sylvan’s men were dead or missing.

Worse, he hadn’t learnt a thing about their enemy.

Frustrated, Sylvan collapsed onto his chair and put his hand to his face.

How did they find out who my men were and their plans?

How’d they know exactly when and where they were leaving from, their objectives or even their connection to us?! All of them are upstanding citizens in Stonefall with no visible links to us, and yet…Does someone have a greater intelligence network than us in the city, or do we have a mole?

Sylvan shook his head. That’s impossible. I vetted every single one of them myself and kept tabs on them since they joined. Taking all that into consideration, it seems more likely that the enemy has a greater intelligence network than us and they’ve outplayed us completely.

Sylvan laughed bitterly.

He stood, removed his sword from his belt, straightened his suit and walked out of his home.

“If they’re being backed by Anthony Kelsey, then it’s possible.”

For years, Anthony had been one of the biggest investors of the Sons of Tartarus, and other underworld organisations like the Night’s Eye and the Encircling Serpent, but it now appeared like one of their biggest benefactors had abandoned them.

Sylvan took one last, deep breath before walking deeper into the night-time streets of Stonefall.

Intentionally, he stuck to the backstreets where there was little light from the torches and magic stone lamps, until, finally, a shadowy figure appeared before him.

It had a raven’s hood helmet and a dagger in its hand.

Before the figure cut his throat, Sylvan threw up his arms and dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the figure.

“I wish to defect from the Sons of Tartarus.”