Translator: CinderTL
Gabella, the Imperial Capital.
The setting sun cast its golden glow upon the spires of the Imperial Palace. Within this heart of the empire, a cabinet meeting had just concluded.
Emperor Antonio Griffin stood by the window, watching the ministers rise and depart.
Suddenly, he nodded slightly to Marianna, who was about to leave, and asked with a smile, "Madam, could you spare a moment? I have some questions to ask."
The Council of Ten stood out prominently in the current cabinet. No longer hidden Spellcasters of the Arcane Order, they now sat openly as Royal Advisors in the empire's highest decision-making body.
Marianna inclined her head slightly and gracefully took her seat. She wore a deep blue robe, her fiery red hair framing a cool, sharp gaze.
"It's about Aldor," Antonio began without preamble. "Nathan and several other mages have been in northern Aldor for some time. How are the Orcs faring?"
Marianna sighed softly, a hint of mockery in her tone. "According to their latest reports, the Orcs seem less adaptable to the Human World than we anticipated."
"Oh?"
"Before entering Aldor, they were warriors of the Grassland, but once inside, they became consumed by the city's pleasures. They began wearing fine clothes, drinking exquisite wines, and living in luxurious houses. Those warriors from the barren Grassland were no longer warriors."
Antonio frowned slightly. "What about the war?"
"The Second War ended in a crushing victory for Aldor's army," Marianna replied calmly. "The Orcs were routed. It wasn't a matter of tactics, but of will. They simply didn't want to fight anymore."
As Marianna finished speaking, Emperor Antonio suddenly chuckled softly.
"You say the Orcs had become decadent and their fighting prowess had declined..." he began slowly, his tone laced with subtle meaning. "But according to the information I possess, their performance on the battlefield wasn't as dismal as you claim."
His gaze was sharp, radiating a sense of condescending composure. "The reason they lost the Second War wasn't their fighting ability, but rather—Paul Grayman."
Marianna's eyebrows arched slightly, but she remained silent. A flicker of wariness flashed in her eyes.
"The rise of Northwest Bay has fundamentally shifted the entire battlefield," Antonio continued, his tone steady and unhurried. "Aldor was already exhausted by internal strife. If not for Marquis Grayman's new army and defenses, the Orcs would have long ago overrun the entire kingdom."
He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "In fact, during their first invasion, the Orcs suffered a crushing defeat in Northwest Bay. Their western advance nearly collapsed."
The Emperor turned to Marianna, as if observing her reaction. "So it's not that the Orcs have grown weak, but that they've finally met a true adversary."
Marianna listened quietly, her face remaining impassive, but her heart tightened imperceptibly.
She was, of course, aware of the changing situation in Northwest Bay, but she hadn't expected the Emperor to be so intimately familiar with the details of the conflict—more so, in fact, than many Aldor natives.
What unsettled her most was Antonio's tone when he mentioned Paul. It seemed more than a mere statement of fact. Was he testing her?
"Your Majesty seems remarkably well-informed about Aldor's affairs," she replied, striving to keep her voice calm.
Antonio chuckled softly. "I'm merely curious about who will be the truly noteworthy pieces on the chessboard of the future."
Standing before the window, gazing at the distant horizon, Antonio suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh.
"To be honest, it still stings a bit. When I personally led our grand army north, I could only manage a draw with Abal. Later, with domestic affairs growing critical, I was forced to make peace with him, ending the campaign in rather ignominious fashion."
He turned to Marianna, a playful glint in his eyes.
"But who could have predicted that a man I couldn't defeat would be utterly routed by Aldor, a mere local lord? I am the Emperor, Abal was the Orc Chieftain of the Grassland, and yet our opponent... was just an unknown local lord."
Marianna smiled faintly.
"Your Majesty exaggerates. When you marched north, you commanded the Empire's ordinary army against Orcs, a cavalry-based force that moved like wildfire across the Grassland, striking swiftly and retreating just as quickly. Your ability to stabilize the situation and hold the border was a victory in itself."
She paused, then changed her tone.
"But things are different now. The Arcane Order's influence has penetrated deep into the military. Spellcasters are no longer mere advisors or strategists; they're directly involved in combat, becoming key players in shaping the battlefield. If you had today's warriors and resources back then, the Orcs probably wouldn't have even crossed the border."
Marianna spoke slowly, her voice calm. "Times have changed. You faced an old world, while we now stand at the threshold of a new one. Paul Grayman succeeded precisely because he adapted to this shift—or perhaps even helped bring it about," she thought silently.
Antonio remained silent for a moment, then chuckled softly and shook his head. "You're right. Perhaps I should leave my resentment for those who truly deserve it."
The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across Antonio's slightly weary face. His previously relaxed tone suddenly shifted, his gaze becoming calm yet tinged with a suppressed restlessness.
"Speaking of which, things haven't been going smoothly with the Holy See lately," he said slowly, tapping his fingers lightly on the table's edge as if lost in thought.
Marianna stood beside him, listening quietly without interrupting.
"Our army has crossed the border and entered the Holy See's territory," Antonio continued. "But they don't rely on tactics like the Orcs, nor do they emphasize formation and deployment like we do."
He paused, a hint of irritation in his voice.
"They rely on... fanaticism."
He looked up, his gaze deep and serious.
"The Holy See has recently begun deploying fanatics in large numbers. These believers, brainwashed by their faith, have no regard for life or death. They charge our lines in swarms, even drinking hallucinogenic potions before their attacks. Their eyes hold no fear, only a single-minded determination to die."
His voice held a mixture of anger and bewilderment.
"This isn't war... it's a human sacrifice. They're using lives to slow our advance."
Marianna frowned slightly but remained composed.
"Our soldiers are starting to waver," Antonio said softly. "Not because of the enemy's tactics, but because they've never faced an enemy so utterly indifferent to death. Ordinary military strategies are useless against such foes."
His gaze fell on Marianna.
"Our advance has slowed," he said.
Marianna pondered for a moment before speaking slowly.
"The Holy See's faith system is built on sacrifice and martyrdom. They aren't fighting a war; they're using war to prove God's will."
(End of the Chapter)
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