As Nahida's faint, watchful presence withdrew, dim with disappointment, Idris turned fully to Sumeru's affairs. If he wanted to bend the plot away from its original course and make this nation stronger, the first step was to wake a people numbed by habit and fear.
First target: the Corps of Thirty and the Matra.
On paper, they were Sumeru's strongest arms. In practice, when the tide turned, the Corps of Thirty pretended not to hear the enemy at the gates, and the Matra's sharpest blade—General Mahamatra Cyno—would one day walk away. If Idris meant to rule rather than drift, it was time to snap them to attention.
"Send word to the Matra representatives, General Mahamatra Cyno, and the Corps of Thirty's captain and lieutenants," he ordered.
"Er… Grand Sage, why bother with those brutes?" scoffed a nearby scholar, lip curling. "What could you possibly have to discuss with people who only know how to swing weapons?"
Idris let the slight hang in the air. This—this sneering divide between the Akademiya's court and its force—was the rot he needed to cut out. If Sumeru was to become a true empire, the Corps of Thirty—once little more than hired blades—had to be reformed. And with blunt men, reason alone rarely worked; sometimes you needed something simpler, rougher.
He didn't explain. "Just notify them. Tell them to assemble in the Corps of Thirty's yard. I'll speak to them myself."
"Yes, Grand Sage."
With Akasha Terminals on every ear, summoning people in Sumeru was never difficult. Idris shrugged on an outer robe, took only a handful of guards, and descended from the sacred great tree toward the streets below.
Eyes followed him—many eyes. Few of them held respect. Whispered voices trailed in his wake like dust.
"Hey, look… isn't that the Akademiya's new Grand Sage?"
"Looks like it…"
He followed the sound and spotted two women chatting together—very different in bearing, both striking. One, pure as a spring fairy, was Nilou. The other, bronze-skinned and fierce, was Dehya.
He knew them at a glance.
Realizing they'd been overheard, the two ducked behind a column, continuing in hushed tones. Perhaps thanks to the system sharpening his senses, he still caught every word.
"So that's the new Grand Sage?" Nilou pouted, her tone sour. "Well… at least he looks better than the old man."
"What's the use of a pretty face," Dehya said dryly, "if he's just going to keep Lesser Lord Kusanali locked away like the rest?"
"Every Grand Sage the Akademiya puts up is the same—none of them are good people!"
Dehya nodded. A seat that, in other nations, belonged to a god… in Sumeru was held by a mortal. You needed more than a handsome face to carry that.
"Wait—he's heading toward the Corps of Thirty's camp? Aren't the Akademiya's bookmen supposed to look down on them?"
"I don't know. But it feels like something interesting's about to happen. Come on, let's watch."
They shadowed him, together with a curious cluster of onlookers, right up to the gate of the Corps.
"Yo—if it isn't our freshly minted Grand Sage," the Corps captain drawled from inside the yard. He and several leaders stood shoulder to shoulder, casual to the point of insolence. "You called us out here. What's the big deal?"
Not an ounce of respect in their eyes.
Across the yard, the Matra lounged in cool silence. Cyno himself was seated off to the side, gaze unreadable. He was already half out the door in his mind—resignation today, disappearance tomorrow, and in the days ahead, answering Nahida's call to rebel.
Idris met their stares without warmth. He took two steps forward, voice like a blade.
"Why did I call you?" He let the question cut. "Looking at a bunch of cowards like you, what do you think I'm here for?"
"Cowards?"
Anger flashed across the captain's face, rippling through the Corps. The Matra stiffened; Cyno's eyes cooled a shade.
"Grand Sage Idris," the captain bit out, "you'd better take that back. If anything, coward suits your line of Grand Sages best—judging by what you've all done."
"Mind your tongue, captain," one of Idris's guards snapped, steel rasping free. Several blades lifted in warning. The air strained; one spark, and the yard would explode.
Outside the gate, Nilou, Dehya, and half the street froze.
No way… is the new Grand Sage about to start a civil war on day one?
Idris raised a hand. The guards lowered their weapons, step by step. He looked from the Corps captain to Cyno and the Matra, voice steady.
"Fine. Since you feel the Grand Sages have wronged you—allow me to repay you now."
He stooped, lifted a fallen spear from the packed earth, and, without a flicker crossing his face, leveled the tip at his own shoulder.