Chương 1324: 1354 - Halorian Campaign IX

When Leon walked into the conference room, he found Anshu sitting with many Captains, Commodores, and Admirals of various ranks. Others were projecting in from their arks to avoid having too many commanders in the same place at the same time. All of them looked over as he entered and shot to their feet.

"Relax," Leon ordered before he could even be announced. He joined Anshu at the head of the central table, slightly vexed that no one actually relaxed until he took a seat. Maia followed, sitting just to his right.

"I'm up and about," he said.

"I'm healed. Give me an update." He'd been out a day, long enough for worry to set in. But he didn't feel the need to wax poetically about how well he was feeling, and given what he'd heard from Anna on the way over, he was more interested in hearing the detailed strategic situation than he was in making sure everyone knew the details about his health. This tactic seemed to mollify most of his commanders, and Anshu launched into his explanation without delay.

At the same time, Leon's Paladins took up positions around the room, while his Tempest Knights waited in the hall. The only prominent and powerful person missing from this meeting was Red, though Leon knew that she didn't care much for strategy or tactics, and only wanted to know who she had to fight and kill; she didn't need to be present.

"The enemy was put to flight following Antipatra's… defeat," Anshu said as he gave Leon a pointed look, telling him without saying it that Leon's use of the Eye of Calamity had been noticed.

"We've hesitated to pursue even after maneuvering out of the planar debris, as until you awoke, we had no answer to Eirenaios or Aristarchos. Either of them would've cut through the fleet almost with impunity." Leon didn't begrudge that decision; now that he was up, Antipatra's fleet didn't have an answer to him, and it was only fair that they enjoyed the same privilege, if only for a day.

'They couldn't have known that they lost their best chance for victory…' he thought, savoring the irony.

"Makarios contacted us while you were out," Anshu continued, and Leon's gaze sharpened. So intently did Leon stare at Anshu that he noticed the man start to sweat, and he forced himself to relax his aura to allow him to finish.

"He wanted to speak to you and refused to speak with me."

"Rather impudent," Leon noted aloud, though his words came without much heat.

"So it was," Anshu responded with a grim look, one that told Leon volumes about how he'd punish that impudence if he had the opportunity.

"Your Majesty… I believe that Makarios has betrayed us. Or is, at least, untrustworthy." Leon stroked his chin in thought, thinking on the situation as it happened for a moment before responding, "Untrustworthy, I'd tentatively agree. His failure to use the bombs we provided aggravates… But betrayal…"

"He betrayed one master; why not another?" Leon nodded, conceding the point.

"You might be right. He made no excuses?"

"As I said, he refused to speak with me. I believe that he called to try and make excuses, but once he heard you were incapacitated, he ditched whatever shadowy schemes he had to run back to Antipatra."

"Antipatra is almost certainly dead."

"With respect, my King, I don't believe that will change anything. He swore himself to Antipatra because he had no other choice. Once we arrived, he was given a choice, and he chose us. Now… he may be thinking that if he continues playing both sides, then he might come out ahead. Even if he's wholeheartedly on our side, I believe that he stands to benefit too much from not truly supporting us, so we can't count on his support.

He could easily play both of our sides against each other until we are too spent to continue conquering the Halorian Cluster."

"Even if we win with few casualties," Leon remarked, "we are done with the Halorian Cluster. We can't afford to continue our campaign in this Great Strand with Artorion under siege."

"Does he know that?"

"I haven't told him, but he may have heard something to that effect from Antipatra, or someone in her fleet." A deep frown marred Anshu's chiseled visage.

"He's unpredictable."

"Are you suggesting that we disregard everything that he can do for us?" Leon found himself somewhat agreeing with Anshu, but he still wanted to push back on the idea for the sake of debate.

"Yes," Anshu replied without a moment of hesitation. Leon smirked.

"I appreciate your candor. I was thinking something similar, myself. Makarios has made our operations easier, but we can operate without him if need be. And it seems that—" A runner was let into the room, breathless from apparently taking his position literally.

"Forgive the intrusion; Makarios has called." Leon blinked from the strain of holding in his laugh of surprise. He was tempted to take the call right there, not seeing much need to keep it private, but just in case, he decided to take it in a private comm room, with only Anshu, Maia, and his Paladins present. None of them would be visible, however. Ten minutes later, everything was ready, and the room's comm slate projected an image of Makarios for all to see.

However, Makarios would only be able to see Leon on his end. The man himself looked particularly stressed, and seeing Leon only gave him a small amount of relief. But that it gave any relief at all was something that Leon found notable.

"Makarios," he said.

"I'm glad to hear from you."

"And I'm glad to be heard," he replied.

"The sun is lazy in dark times, but speaking with you is like seeing the first rays of dawn an hour early. I worried that the Nine-and-Nineteen had consigned our chances to the Other Side."

"What has happened on your end?" Leon asked, his suspicion held in check until he could hear the other man's piece. He wasn't calling for no reason, after all.

"Antipatra has not been seen since your battle," he said without pause.

"It's clear to the entire fleet that she was gravely wounded. Eirenaios has taken control of the fleet in her absence. Where Antipatra favored a strategy of fighting you here in my cluster, Eirenaios intends to abandon it…" Venom dripped from Makarios' tone so thickly that Leon thought it might even poison his ears.

"You've clashed with him before," Leon noted.

"We've had disagreements," Makarios rushed to reply.

"I feel Eirenaios might find some satisfaction in abandoning my cluster now that he's in charge…"

"Maybe that's the case, maybe it isn't. But this sounds rather suspiciously like good news, Makarios; why is their retreat something to be—""—They're not retreating." Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. A simple statement, but Leon felt like his entire body had been plunged beneath the surface of a frozen lake. Makarios didn't need to say it; Leon knew exactly what was going on. Still, Makarios confirmed his fears a moment later.

"Eirenaios is going to attack the neighboring cluster. Your neighboring cluster. He hopes to force you out and fight on his terms." It took a monumental amount of effort for Leon not to grimace.

"How long do we have?"

"Hours."

"… That is… Makarios, why didn't you use the bombs I gave you?" Makarios rapidly blinked half a dozen times, sent almost reeling from the sudden change in topic. Leon could see in the corner of his eye Anshu and several of his Paladins react likewise.

"I was ordered to keep in the rear. After my arks charged in the previous battle, Antipatra wanted to keep me under control. I couldn't get close enough to Aristarchos' arks to set off his bombs, nor could I plant any more among his fleet. But that hardly seems—""Then all of the bombs are still around?"

"Uh, yes, yes they are." It was a plausible enough excuse. Leon didn't trust Makarios that much, but it was hard to find fault with the excuse when he didn't have access to records of Antipatra's orders.

"If Eirenaios wants to force a large-scale battle, then so be it. We will use this opportunity to do what we couldn't in the previous battle, and use those bombs to take out Aristarchos. Is that still feasible?"

"Yes," Makarios replied.

"He wanted to study the bombs, but with the current fleet movements, he's surely been distracted. He can't carry all of his bricks." Leon didn't understand the nuances of that idiom, but he thought he got the gist. Aristarchos was too busy to study the bombs. That meant that they were still on his ark. Leon could still set them off during a battle.

"We're going to make this the last battle," he said definitively, not hiding that he was also looking at Anshu.

"We are going to kill Eirenaios and Aristarchos, destroy their fleets, and end this once and for all. When we're done, Makarios, you'll bow before me and be formally acknowledged as Stellarch of this cluster. And then I will move on to another campaign."

"That sounds like a great plan," Makarios responded without much confidence.

"Are you sure it can be done? The Strong-Armed Ruler is more likely to reward overconfidence with sand than with gold."

"Antipatra is dead," Leon said definitively.

"Without her, that fleet will fold before mine. With your help, it won't even be close…"

"I pray that you're right. We set off for the Zer Cluster before the day is done. If you're wrong… I'm not quite ready to meet the Nine-and-Nineteen in person just yet.

"Being right and being wrong depend entirely on how we play our hand in the next few hours. Now, here's what we're going to do…" Leon laid out his plan—it was fairly simple, so he was done quickly. He also refrained from telling Makarios too much about his specific fleet movements, just in case. When he was done, Makarios acknowledged his part in the plan, and then they ended the call to carry out their respective responsibilities.

If Eirenaios was going to launch his attack in less than a day, then they'd have to be ready for him. As Leon rose to return to the meeting with the fleet's commanders, Anshu asked him, "How wise are we to rely on him?"

"That depends," Leon said to him. He grinned and asked, "Are we relying on him?" He let Anshu stew with that question in his head as they returned to the meeting room. If Leon wanted this to be the last battle of the Halorian Campaign, then his plan would need a bit of work on their end…

Eirenaios could almost feel his chest swelling as he stared out at the fleet forming up around him. They answered to him. To him, not to Aristarchos, not to anyone else. To him. Antipatra was still out, and for that, he wasn't sure if he was grateful or not. The bottom of her head had started to regenerate, but despite that normally—as much as twelfth-tier and stronger mages losing their heads was 'normal'—indicating the mage was magically active, all attempts at communicating with Antipatra had failed.

Either she was refusing contact, or she could not be contacted. Either way, after a whirlwind of browbeating, Eirenaios was where he knew he always should have been: leading this fleet. Some of Antipatra's Captains had wanted to fall back. They feared Leon Raime and what he could do. Some whispered 'dragon' after what he'd done to Antipatra, and the possibility of the Great Dragon Clans interceding on Leon's behalf suddenly became all too real for them.

Others whispered 'monster', and grew more determined to see his end. Eirenaios promoted the latter over the former, forbade all talk of retreat, and began the arduous task of putting nearly two thousand arks in order. Now that the formation was set and the jump drives were charging, he could almost see the parades that would be thrown in his honor, the accolades and respect that he would receive upon completion of this task…

A dark sliver of thought ran through such musings, reminding him that he still couldn't face Leon Raime in person, but against his dreams of glory, that sliver of thought never grew. His strategy was set, and he knew that he could inflict damage and be gone before the monster could respond. He would erase everything that Leon had built in the planes and leave nothing remaining save Leon himself for Triton to handle once the monster's den was razed.

Triton would land the final strike, but it would be Eirenaios who received the glory… … assuming he didn't find some way to land that final strike himself… Alarms went off, his officers shouted statuses, and Eirenaios smiled. They were ready; he gave the order, and hundreds of spatial portals opened. With determination in their hearts and certain of their victory, the fleet charged. They emerged a vast distance from the Halorian Cluster.

The gulf between clusters was often vast, filled with little save the occasional drifting asteroid or dark plane, and the one between Zer and Halor was particularly expansive. Not enough to make jumping prohibitively difficult, but enough that his—his smile grew a bit wider as he thought about his arks—fleet emerged even more out of formation than usual. The Zer cluster was spread out, so they emerged close to only a single plane.

Still, that plane was only sparsely defended, and Eirenaios felt his confidence surge as the paltry few defenders hovering close to the plane's terminus line took one look at his fleet, disorganized as they were, and immediately fled. The plane was open to him, ready to receive Khosrow's wrath for submitting to a half-beast. He gave the order to reform, eager to begin his work. As his fleet reformed, he paid special attention to Makarios' fleet.

One hundred and fifty arks, inferior to his, which was made especially clear in how sluggish they seemed compared to those of proper Burning Lords. Makarios was a thorn in his side. The man had argued against abandoning his plane, but Eirenaios ignored it. He wasn't going to let the man's obvious conflict of interest distract the fleet from good strategy. His cluster was weak and indefensible; so defending it was a mistake. Better to go on the offensive rather than allowing Leon Raime to whittle them down.

That Makarios couldn't see that was just more proof that he was unworthy of Khosrow's grace.

'Woe to men who place their own power and glory ahead of the greater good,' Eirenaios thought. He then caught himself.

'Glad I didn't say that aloud. Would've sounded like Violeta.' The hypocrisies and obvious biases of Makarios could be ignored; any attempted sedition couldn't be. Eirenaios would keep an eye on Makarios' fleet going forward. He assigned the man to fly close to Eirenaios' own detachment to ensure the man's compliance. It took more than an hour for the fleet to completely regroup.

The bridge of Eirenaios' flag ark had started to reek of sweat during that time, the same question going through everyone's mind save for Eirenaios': what if Leon Raime learned of their plan and moved to stop them? The past two times that they'd jumped looking for a fight, the monster had ambushed them and inflicted extreme casualties. But this time, Eirenaios knew, would be different. The feathered demon wanted them to stay in Halor, not come to Zer.

He was still floating in the Void between Halor's backwater planes, and by the time he learned of how Eirenaios had outmaneuvered him, it would be far too late.

"My Lord!" Eirenaios' bridge commander called out.

"We are ready to begin!" A glance at the tactical projection showed a loose formation meant to maximize his vast fleet. It also showed that the bridge commander was correct; everyone was in place.

"Begin!" Eirenaios shouted. He relished the weight of the word, spoken without a moment's hesitation. He didn't know how many people lived on the plane before him, but neither did he care. They were all going to die anyway, and this way, they would be freed of their bondage to their beastly captor. In death, they would find their freedom. In death, they would find their forgiveness. Eirenaios did not think any further about the people of the plane.

He only thought of the plane itself and how it would look when the magical forces holding it together were broken. His fleet was more than large enough to accomplish that task, not to mention he could do it himself if he wanted to. Leon Raime would find this plane shattered when he realized his mistake and came chasing their trail. The only thing that Eirenaios regretted was that he would not be there to see the feathered beast's reaction to learning the news.

His arks accelerated as his order was relayed, his flag ark taking the lead. Voidspace between them and the plane shortened drastically with every passing second, bringing the fleet's powerful weapons closer and closer to effective range. The best effect for planar bombardment, Eirenaios knew from personal experience, was to begin it just past the terminus line. Once his fleet passed it, the plane would die, and they'd move on to the next, then the next, then the next…