The Storm King

The skies cleared rapidly over Sentudon as the fighting died down. There would surely be pockets of resistance left in the city, but the most important areas had already been seized—the city’s gatehouses, docks, and the capitol. Leon surveyed the results of the conquest from above as horns sounded around the city, continuously signaling the defenders to surrender—or so it seemed.

Regardless, the ships out on the lake had already surrendered. Leon had made quite the show of destroying the more heavily armed ships, and the conscripted merchant and fishing vessels didn’t put up much of a fight afterward. He was only too happy to leave them be, hoping that showing enough mercy to these people would help keep the peace.

Thankfully, Valeria and Maia were equally restrained, though he’d only been worried about the latter. For all the time she’d spent in human society, she still didn’t see much point in holding back her power, and for the most part, Leon couldn’t blame her.

Still, now that his arks were hovering over the city and his people had stormed the city’s capitol, Leon unhurriedly flew over as he retracted his aura, letting the storm he’d summoned above the city dissipate.

The capitol building—called the ‘Archonate’, if he was remembering correctly—had been surrounded by his people before being taken. It had been defended by several hundred warriors, but only a few dozen had to be killed before the rest surrendered. In all, Leon doubted much damage had been done to the city; perhaps twenty thousand were dead and wounded, and he couldn’t sense any looting or pillaging by his warriors.

He alighted upon the ground in front of the Archonate. Many of the surrendered defenders had been herded here to await their fates, guarded by about half as many Thundermen. Gaius and a Jaguar Tribal Chief seemed to be in charge when Leon arrived, and they both bowed for everyone in the courtyard.

Leon took human form again while also taking a moment to relish the wide-eyed stares he was receiving from just about everyone—his people were respectful to a fault, while the captured defenders were a more mixed bag, showing everything from hate to outright awe. But he only allowed this momentary indulgence before returning to business.

“What’s our status?” he asked Gaius and the Jaguar Chief, Valeria and Maia landing at his side at the same time.

“Sentudon’s in our grasp,” Gaius immediately answered. “Most of the defenders were on the walls. Once we got past them, there wasn’t much trouble. We found most of the ruling council here. Most have surrendered, but a few chose to die with steel in hand.”

“Respectable, both choices,” Leon stated as he indicated for Gaius to lead them inside. The Tribal Chief stayed outside with the guards watching over the prisoners.

Upon entering, Leon found Cassandra and Marcus walking towards them.

“My handsome darling!” Cassandra gushed as she threw her arms around Leon without care for where they were. Leon didn’t care much either as he held her close for another momentary indulgence. After that, Cassandra led their group to the council chambers. Once there, Leon found another person waiting for him: Clear Day.

The tau looked rather somber, but his expression turned more neutral as Leon approached.

“King Leon,” he whispered with a bow.

“Clear,” Leon replied with significantly more enthusiasm. “Are their leaders in there?” He nodded to the guarded room, outside of which stood twenty Thundermen. Leon could sense more throughout the Archonate, securing the entrances and looking for anyone who might be hiding.

“They are,” Clear Day answered. “They have been most… eager to meet with you.”

“Looking to spit in my face or throw their swords at my feet?” he asked.

“… I’m hoping for the latter.”

Leon frowned. “Same. Give me a rundown on who we’re looking at.”

“The only one of great note is Tyrios, an Azadan and tenth-tier mage,” Clear Day explained. “Of the twelve Archons who ruled this city this morning, four are dead and three more are missing. I took the liberty of speaking with the remaining five before you arrived, and it seems to me that they are the most moderate of their fellows. I believe they’ll be more than willing to formally surrender to you.”

“And this ‘Tyrios’ will speak for them?”

Clear Day nodded hesitantly.

“Very well. If there’s nothing anyone wants to add, let’s speak with them now.”

“I… would like to know what our strategy will be,” Clear Day asked with some apprehension. “How are we to treat these men?”

Leon gave him a no-nonsense look. “That’ll depend on what they have to say. I don’t want to leave a garrison behind. This is a large city and to secure it will require a lot of troops. This is part of the reason why I was offering them generous terms to surrender. I’d rather they took care of themselves so I don’t have to waste troops on keeping them in line, especially when we have other cities to take that we’ll need those warriors for. If we have to garrison both Sentudon and Shatufan, we won’t have enough to occupy Krizos.”

Leon sighed and stared forlornly at the door to the council chambers for a long moment.

“If they accept my next offer, then hopefully all will be well.”

Clear frowned. “If.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? If they went this far to resist, then… Well, hopefully, you’re right to be hopeful, and they’ll see enough reason to give up completely.”

“And if they remain stubborn?”

Leon took a few deep breaths as he thought it over. He’d been mightily conflicted over this matter for a while, and he wasn’t entirely sure, either.

“What do you think?” he quietly asked not just Clear but those at his back, too.

“Exiling their leaders and installing a new loyal group to rule this city would be prudent,” Marcus stated.

“That’s happened twice, and both times, the previous leaders have returned with foreign armies,” Valeria pointed out. “If we don’t want the same thing to happen with Sentudon as happened in Alhamachim and Shatufan, then we’re going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Are you advocating for killing these Archons?” Clear Day asked, sounding more saddened than argumentative.

“I’m advocating for whatever will best ensure peace and our control over the city,” Valeria neutrally replied. A second later, her stony expression broke slightly, and she added, “I don’t want to kill anyone else. But we don’t always get what we want, and we have to keep our strategic objectives in mind.”

Leon clicked his tongue impatiently. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now. Let’s go and see what they have to say for themselves.”

Clear bowed his head slightly and led Leon’s group into the council chamber. It wasn’t that opulent to Leon’s eyes, but it was comfortable, with all the furniture expected of a room for the Archons to meet and discuss policy.

Most of that furniture wasn’t in use, however, with the central table pushed against the wall and the chairs stacked atop it. The five Archons, a handful of other Azadan, and their staff had been made to sit in the center of the room. Fortunately for them, while the floor was polished marble, a plush carpet kept them reasonably comfortable.

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As soon as the door opened, Leon felt the attention of everyone within swivel to him, and any noise inside died as he crossed the threshold. The guards had been professional, not talking in front of the prisoners, and kept them silent, too. Their commander was a Hart Chief—a wise choice in Leon’s mind as the Harts were hardly the most violence-prone Tribe in his Kingdom.

“Your Majesty,” the Chief said as he bowed his guard detail.

“Relax,” Leon replied. He wasn’t in much of a mood for too many formalities. “Have these people been calm?”

“We’ve had no problems so far,” the Chief replied.

“Good.”

Leon glanced at Clear, who stepped forward and indicated the man sitting in front of everyone else. He was of a rather imposing build, though rather soft around the middle indicating he indulged frequently in rich food. He was dressed fairly conservatively, though, with little in the way of ostentatious decoration on his tunic and trousers. His brown hair was long and curled, while he wore a beard over his pale face equally as long and curled. Dark brown eyes sat beneath a heavy brow, staring right back at Leon with little fear.

Most notable of all his traits, however, was his tenth-tier aura. He was, at least in terms of raw power, stronger than any of the guards in the room, though if he hadn’t been making trouble… Regardless, Leon was happy Clear had been nearby, just in case he’d been less cooperative.

“This is Archon Tyrios,” Clear stated. “Tyrios, this is King Leon Raime.”

The corners of Leon’s lips flickered upward, noting Clear’s simple introduction and lack of long, formal titles. But he schooled his expression and sternly stared down at the sitting Tyrios.

“King Leon Raime,” Tyrios responded. “Under other circumstances, I would have been glad to meet you.”

“Surprising,” Leon replied. “Your city has made its hostility to me and my Kingdom clear.”

“My personal feelings don’t align with those of my city as a whole,” Tyrios stated. Though Leon was hardly an expert, he couldn’t detect any deceit in Tyrios’ statement. “I have made my opposition to Manuchehr’s league known, you can ask anyone in this city.”

“Well. I would’ve figured a powerful figure such as yourself would’ve been able to do more to keep your city safe. Or do your people not care as much as others for strength?”

“My people are civilized and value thought and reason above all else! I may be the strongest man in the city, but that doesn’t inherently give me special rights or positions!”

Leon blinked in surprise. He wondered how true that was, or if Tyrios was simply spouting an ideal like it was fact. A quick glance around at the other prisoners showed that it was more likely to be the latter. He also saw more than a few disdainful looks on the Tribesmen around the room—it seemed even the Ancestral Harts disagreed with that ideal.

“Attacking me and refusing my offered terms doesn’t strike me as particularly ‘reasonable’.”

Tyrios frowned deeply. “We… have our pride. We value our independence and are more than willing to fight to maintain it!”

Leon sucked air through his teeth as he glanced outside at the largely intact city. “You could’ve fought harder, honestly. Your people didn’t fight that hard, and many of your city’s defenders readily threw down their arms after my Kingdom showed its strength.”

Tyrios’ face began to go red with anger, and Leon decided to stop poking at his pride—at least, for the moment.

“I’ll offer you a new deal, then, to see if what you have to say is accurate,” Leon continued, tightly seizing and holding onto the attention of all the prisoners. “Much will remain the same. Your citizenship rolls will be merged with mine. Your government will remain… I don’t want to say ‘unchanged’, but I, at least, have no interest in fucking with it. Your people can decide how they want to order themselves. So long as they are ordered. I do not want to have to come back here to put down a revolt because someone pushed too far and the people couldn’t handle it. I’ll even leave your city to maintain its own security without a garrison.

“All of this, I offer you, though not freely. Your city will acknowledge me as its King. Instead of regular tribute, I will now be levying regular taxes, and your city will be expected to gather it for me. You will not be permitted to maintain an armed force greater than what you need to keep the peace. You will be expected to help supply my army with all they require if they pass through the area.

“This will all be subject to my discretion. If I don’t like how you’re conducting yourselves, I will station a garrison here or even dissolve whatever government you set up, if I so choose. I want to highlight this: I will allow your city to continue governing itself as it wishes to be, but I am ultimately in charge.”

Leon paused, gauging the reactions of the prisoners. None of them looked particularly happy at his offer, but neither did they look particularly aggrieved about it. Tyrios looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, but his aura was steady and bore nary a hint of killing intent.

“Finally,” Leon added as something occurred to him, “your borders will stay the same for the moment, but should I need to reorder the Far West in the future, especially as more of my people arrive from our home plane, I will.”

“You would deprive us of our ancestral lands?” one of the other Archons whispered, showing the first sign of more violent anger Leon had yet seen since entering the chamber.

“I would, should I see the need to do so,” Leon easily replied. “Now, decide amongst yourselves if you will be agreeing to this deal. And I do mean you, you are not speaking for your city right now. These are the terms that I’ll be imposing upon your city no matter who is in charge.”

Another Archon quietly scoffed. “Not even going to let us negotiate?”

“Such is the fate of the defeated,” Leon testily replied. “If you wanted negotiation, you should’ve engaged in that when Clear Day came here earlier. Now that I’ve had to take your city by force, the only choice that remains to you is whether or not you submit to me. Choose quickly.”

Leon could tell they were going to make the right choice. There were too many in the room who looked resigned. He smiled as he left the room, knowing that in the near future, they’d be even more convinced to abide by his terms—there wouldn’t be any other choice to make once their allies had been defeated…

---

“Sentudon has fallen.”

The statement hit Manuchehr like a sack of bricks. He felt like he was going to be sick.

“How… how much damage… did they do?” he croaked.

“… Little appreciable damage as far as we can tell,” his assistant nervously replied. “Leon Raime’s fleet… appears wholly intact. Few of their soldiers are reported to have fallen in the brief battle.”

Depression rapidly made way for anger, and Manuchehr rose to his feet and slammed his fist down onto his desk, snapping it in half. His assistant flinched and moved back a couple steps, but such was unnecessary, Manuchehr got ahold of himself and forced himself to calm down.

“Damn them,” he whispered. “They couldn’t have resisted a little longer?”

He lost himself in thought, lamenting the speed with which Leon Raime had moved. He’d hoped for more time, and if there had been, he would’ve been able to reinforce Sentudon.

“Have Hosragan and Elegan begun moving their forces?” he asked his assistant, dreading the answer.

“No.”

The one-word reply almost shattered all hope that remained in Manuchehr’s heart. Both city’s delegates had bargained hard for Aurichalcum, Lumenite, and Titanstone. While Manuchehr had been shrewd enough to promise them the full amount only on the arrival of their forces to Shatufan, he’d still sent the delegates back to their cities with a goodly amount.

If they weren’t going to move at all, then that was Aurichalcum wasted.

His mind raced as he desperately tried to think of some way his city might survive. Without the league as a whole, there was no chance they could stand against Leon Raime. Rolor’s Highcastle and Sentudon were now in the hands of the enemy, while Krizos was ignoring his attempts to reach out, and Elegan and Hosragan were apparently abandoning his city to its fate.

‘I should’ve known when they agreed so readily,’ he thought angrily. ‘They didn’t even hesitate despite knowing what they faced.’

He sighed as he began to pace.

‘Could I reach out to Despot Archelaus? No, no… I doubt he cares that much despite our business. Didn’t they already send someone to that moldy sewer of a city? And it’s still there? Archelaus won’t get involved… What about one of the Strategoi? Could they even get here in time? How long will it take Leon Raime to cement his hold over Sentudon?’

No matter what scenario he let play through his head, his list of allies had grown so thin as to be nonexistent. Even if it hadn’t, that Elegan and Hosragan had taken his Aurichalcum and left didn’t make him confident any other potential ally would help him out of the goodness of their heart.

‘Leon Raime is the key,’ Manuchehr thought. ‘Kill him, and we win. Such a barbaric Kingdom as his would surely devolve into infighting before his body grows cold.’

As he paced, his gaze flitted out of his office’s windows. At one of them, he paused, staring out to the northwest. Out there was a certain house and a particularly mad alchemist couple who lived within. They were social outcasts, though they had yet to do something awful enough to get them properly exiled. Still, the fires and explosions they’d caused had done quite a bit of damage in the past.

They hadn’t stopped in their ways despite the pressure from their neighbors, and the steady flow of foreigners that came to the city and stopped by their small shop spoke well of their skill. These foreigners tended to be quite powerful, too. He’d even heard a rumor that a century ago, a Despot from the Burning Lands had specifically sought them out for a particularly explosive commission.

If that was true, the Despot would’ve had to come incognito for Manuchehr recalled no such official visit, but…

‘… Maybe those mad fucks have something that could help right now…’

Any hope, no matter how slim, was enough for him to grasp. He’d find some way, any way, to save his city, even if he had to indebt himself to these people…