“So the Popedom of Frantz has fallen.”
In the Empire of Nyrnal’s capital stood the majestic Imperial castle, Noie Vejya. Inside, Emperor Maximillian sat at his office desk, having just received a report from Chief Cabinet Secretary Bertholdt von Bülow regarding the fate of the Popedom. The Arachnea had defeated Frantz and turned the conquered nation into its vassal.
“What are we to do about the army we sent to invade the Popedom, Your Imperial Majesty? Shall I have them punish the Popedom’s people?”
“No need,” Maximillian replied. “If we defeat the Arachnea, Frantz will crumble to ash. What of the former Maluk territories?”
“Our troops have just reached the Dukedom of Schtraut. The Arachnea has abandoned all the kingdom’s former territories, but they’ve been reduced to no-man’s-lands. There’s nothing left worth taking.”
What had once been the mighty Kingdom of Maluk was now nothing but wasteland. There were no people to reign over it, no resources to collect. All that remained was an expanse of barren, unpopulated soil.
“Is the Dragon Roost up and running?” Maximillian asked.
Bertholdt nodded. “Yes. We’ve begun producing lindwyrms. But our resources are lacking, and having only one Dragon Roost impacts our production rates. It will take time to amass the forces we need.”
What were Dragon Roosts? And lindwyrms?
“There’s not much to be done about that,” Maximillian said. “Few people can move inside Gregoria’s heritage. Everything about that place is complex—incomprehensible, even. The palace mages have a hard time just wrapping their minds around it. Having more Dragon Roosts would be beneficial, but it’s just not a possibility.”
Gregoria was a neutral faction of dragons featured in the same game as the Arachnea. How could this name have left Maximillian’s lips?
“Have our soldiers buy time until we have enough dragons. We’ll need them if we’re to oppose the Arachnea’s insects. We can gather all the heavily armored men we want, but the enemy will simply send out more powerful units. We’ve no business fighting this war without dragons.”
Maximillian began checking the papers sitting in front of him.
“Oh, right. What about the Eastern Trade Union?”
“They intend to officially reject our call for an alliance,” Bertholdt reported. “They say they will protect their country with their own strength.”
The Eastern Trade Union was situated between the Empire of Nyrnal and the Popedom of Frantz. They had likely begun arming their adventurers and hiring mercenaries in preparation to oppose the Empire, which had launched invasions of all the countries the Arachnea had conquered.
“War funds are becoming an issue too,” Maximillian said. “I intended to ignore it for the time being, but we may have to consider invading the Union as well to gain the funds we need. That country is abundant in riches, after all. Besides, we’re defending mankind from the threat of the Arachnea; we deserve a reward for our efforts.”
“As you wish. I could have some of the army bound for Frantz relegated to the Eastern Trade Union. Fifty thousand men should be enough to sink them.”
“Don’t underestimate our predicament. The Arachnea could be considering the same thing. After fighting Maluk, Schtraut, and Frantz, they may be lacking in war funds themselves. Though far be it from me to know if those bugs require salaries...”
After that spot of gallows humor, Maximillian gazed down at the map.
“No, that won’t do, Bertholdt. If we overlook the Eastern Trade Union, we allow the Arachnea to use it as a bridge to us. The defensive line with Frantz is cut off by the lower banks of the Khalkha River. Leaving this unresolved could cause us problems later.”
“Then do we stage some kind of military operation?”
“Just hold off for now. The enemy’s bound to notice eventually, but until then, let them think that place is a glorified treasure vault. If the situation changes, however, we’ll have to make a move. How many rats did you sneak in there, Bertholdt?”
“Countless rats are working for me. Give the word, and I’ll have them begin snooping around immediately.”
“Not yet. For now, let them bask in transient peace. We’ll collect the price for it when the time comes—and it will be with steep interest.”
Maximillian scoffed before getting to the rest of his paperwork.
♱
“Frantz has fallen! The Popedom has been defeated!”
“What do we do? What are we supposed to do now?!”
The Senate of the Eastern Trade Union had gathered in the capital city of Khalkha, where they were holding a loud, animated debate.
“Silence! I will have order in these halls!” roared Ventura Breton, chairman of the Senate.
Ventura was an aging dwarf with a bushy mustache. He had acquired a great fortune through his skillful management of mines. This, in turn, had propelled him to his position as leader of the Eastern Trade Union.
He went on, “Our enemies are no longer just the monsters that toppled the Popedom! Nyrnal declared that they would protect us, and now their soldiers are stationed at our borders, demanding we let them in! They want to build a military base outside Khalkha!”
“That’s a load of hogwash!” countered a mercenary captain. “That would be occupation!”
This man was Konrad Crevlas, captain of the One-Eyed Black Wolf mercenary company. It was a particularly large group that stood out among the rest. Konrad, who was in his thirties, had fought against Nyrnal during its war to unify the south. His experiences had given him a deep hatred for the Empire.
“The question is how we handle this situation. Can we really defeat a force that destroyed the Popedom without relying on Nyrnal’s help?”
These words came from Honnoson Alphtel, president of Alphtel Bank, the largest institution of its kind on the continent. He backed many of the Eastern Trade Union’s guilds and companies, which were often so successful that he hardly struggled to collect his dues.
“We just need to ally with another country that hasn’t surrendered to the Empire or been devoured by those blasted insects!” Konrad declared in a booming voice. “We’ll form a new union, one that’ll fight for true freedom!”
“What are you saying?!” shouted the leader of the Carpenters’ Guild. “Most countries have already surrendered to Nyrnal! I can count the few that haven’t on my one bad hand!” He held it up, showing the three fingers he had left.