Chapter 551 - The Cadrian Council III

  It took another ten-odd minutes for the council members and observers to finish trickling in. One small group at a time, they filed through the door, Allegra and a grug woman among the last to enter.

  The audience members spent the whole trickle lazily chatting among themselves. Claire and Rubia were a big talking point, but very little attention was otherwise paid to the council’s members. The few spectators who weren’t discussing the morning’s bout were chatting about the upcoming free meal, with many raising concerns about its taste and throwability.

  The combatants were just as relaxed. They spoke at length of their past glories and recent accomplishments. Some of the more foolish among them went as far as readily disclosing details regarding their most powerful attacks. Those that weren’t chatting had joined Claire and Rubia in playing with the animals gathered around their space. Sylvia, Boris, and Marcelle were all lazing atop the marble tables and enjoying the cool summer breeze that somehow filled the underground space.

  The mood almost seemed too laid back for peace talks, and it remained that way, even as Virillius finally addressed the crowd.

  “Hello, everyone, and welcome to the council’s proving grounds. Today, we have gathered to discuss this war and its ultimate outcome. As this may take quite some time, our chefs have crafted a fine meal for all of the discussion’s participants and observers.”

  The butlers and maids entered on cue and wheeled in two dozen carts and began serving sandwiches and wraps to spectators and participants alike. Though the dishes were simple, they were made with high-end ingredients: herbs, spices, and truffles could be smelt in the air, enchanting the audience with their flavour.

  “First of all, I would like to thank everyone on both sides of the conflict for attending this event, and for putting the work into crafting the show that you did. This year’s summer festival will certainly remain in the people’s memory for generations.” He folded his hands and slowly looked from left to right before allowing his gaze to settle on Rubia. “I would love to dive into discussions immediately, but first, there is another order of business that must be addressed. Specifically, you may have noticed that my daughter is named among both the Vel’khanese representatives and the impartial observers. The reason for this is rather simple, and it is not what she alluded to prior to our match this morning. In fact, the individual seated among the neutral observers is not Claire at all. I will allow her to explain the rest herself.”

  Virillius sat back down and nodded at Rubia, who took center stage and placed a hand on her chest.

  “Good afternoon. For many of you, this will be your first time hearing my voice. Though I have taken her place for the past two years, I am not Claire Augustus. My name is Rubia, and I am the homunculus who serves as Claire’s proxy. As of earlier this morning, I have been recognized as a separate individual and adopted into House Augustus. My position is that of crown princess. I am taking this title from Claire not because I covet it, but because she does not. Let this public announcement be my testimony. I swear to immediately relinquish the role should Claire ever desire it. If anyone has any objections to this matter, then please voice them at this time.”

  The crowd kicked into a murmur. Noblemen from all different corners of the country began whispering their comments, concerns, and prior suspicions.

  “That doesn’t make any sense!” Eventually, a brave lamia with bright pink scales rose from her seat and spoke. “Aren’t body doubles supposed to be servants?”

  “Yeah, what the hell!?” agreed a cottontail.

  “That’s a good point. Why was she adopted?” shouted an elf.

  “She’s not even real! She’s a homunculus!” added a centaur.

  “I agree with Miss Brigham!” A drunken thoraen man stumbled to his feet. “And even if you are adopting her, why the actual fuck are you making her crown princess!?”

  “Yeah, what the hell! It makes no goddamn sense for us to be bound by her orders!” shouted Miss Brigham. “I didn’t swear to the crown to obey a godsdamned homunculus!”

  “I apologize, my introduction was lacking in detail.” Rubia spoke at the first opportunity. “To be more precise, I am a blood golem homunculus crafted specifically from Claire’s lifeblood. It is true that we do not share both parents, but I was made through a combination of Virillius Augustus’ blood magic and Allegra Cedr’s alchemical arts. The king is functionally my father. Furthermore, I believe I am capable of making use of House Augustus’ bloodline ability. I am unable to describe this in more detail as I am not authorized to disclose any more information.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a goddamn homunculus. You aren’t even rea—”

  “I’ll have to ask you to stop there, Miss Brigham,” said Claire. “Your opinion is noted, and I challenge you to a duel. If you lose, you will change your thoughts on this matter.”

  The snoose peeled off one of her gloves and threw it across the room. There was a sudden clang, followed by a thud as the pink lamia collapsed.

  “Oh dear, it appears I was a little too enthusiastic in issuing my challenge.” Claire giggled innocently. “I suppose I have no choice but to forgive this instance. However, I would like all of you to be aware that, from this point onwards, I will be taking silence to mean agreement.”

  No one said anything.

  The few who had risen in opposition quietly returned to their seats.

  “Oh, and to add to Rubia’s statement, the two of us are as close as sisters, and we’ve already accepted each other as such. Coincidentally, I’m also ca—”

  “—pable of taking control of her body like so. So if you do not wish to treat her as a separate indi—”

  “—vidual, then you are free to consider her an extension of myself. Either way, I ask that you treat her with kindness and respect unless you’d like to face me in a deathmatch. While I am not this nation’s king, and the traditional clause does not apply, I would like to extend the opportunity for anyone who is interested to challenge me for the right to become crown princess. Of course, as is tradition, King Ragnar’s protection will not apply.”

  She scanned the hall, but again, there was silence.

  No one dared to answer.

  “Good. Please continue, Rubia.”

  “I apologize for the trouble, Sister.” Rubia lifted the hem of her dress and performed a picture perfect curtsy before turning back to the crowd. “I am aware that, at this moment, I am not worthy of my position. I am not powerful, and I do not have Claire’s ability to navigate high society. However, I will be doing my best as one of this nation’s royals, and I will be setting out on a campaign next week in hopes of ascending three times and reaching the eight-fifty wall at least. It is only upon returning from this journey successful that I will be assuming my role. I hope that this will allow me to prove myself to those among you who still doubt my ability or dedication. I will begin my journey in Vel’khan as a show of good faith in light of our recent relations.” Curtsying again, Rubia returned to her seat with a faint smile.

  “Thank you, Rubia,” said Virillius. “Now, let us go around the table and have each winning champion provide their immediate thoughts on the proxy war’s outcome. I’d like for us to proceed in the order of our matches. Sir Graham, if you could.”

  “Of course.” Graham coughed into his fist before standing up from his chair with his hands behind his back and his taped moustache fluttering in the wind. “I will be the first to admit that this proxy war of ours was much closer than I’d expected. Vel’khan’s fighters performed admirably and many of the victories were by narrow margins. If Vel’khan and Cadria were in direct proximity, I would have suggested direct integration and for the Vel’khanese to be assimilated in the same way as the thorae, but unfortunately this is geographically impossible.”

  The crowd immediately booed his suggestion. One particularly angry elf went as far as whipping his half-eaten sandwich and then grabbing another off the cart just to throw a second projectile.

  “Stop wasting our time!” he shouted. “Get to the fucking point!” He wasn’t the only one shouting.

  “This motherfucker didn’t even think of his answer ahead of time! Get this dumbfuck off the stage!”

  “Yeah! If you’re going to stall for time, just fucking pass! Asshole!”

  “So as I was trying to say.” Graham coughed into one hand while parrying the food items with the other. “It would be much more efficient for Cadria to absorb Vel’khan as a colony and handle its affairs going forward. Given the close nature of the battles and the final outcome, I believe that Vel’khan should require only ten percent of its taxes as tribute to the motherland each year.”

  “That could’ve been one sentence if you actually thought about it ahead of time!”

  “Yeah! Fuck you, Graham!” The last shout came from Lady Brigham, who had already miraculously awoken from her coma.

  “Thank you, Graham,” said Virillius. “Master Silverthorn, what do you think of Graham’s proposal? Do you have any suggestions of your own?”

  “Honestly, I kinda think absorbing them is a bit too much,” said Leutgar.

  “You’re literally just saying that because everyone else was complaining!” shouted someone in the crowd.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Leutgar rolled his eyes and continued. “Have them pay out some one-time reparations to make up for Tornatus and call it a day. I don’t really see why we should be up in their business.”

  Again, the crowd was abuzz.

  “That elf’s thighs are huge.” The loudest voice coincidentally belonged to Miss Brigham. “I’m not into elves, but if I was…”

  “Weren’t you the one drunkenly talking about elven brothels the other night?”

  “That was a joke, I swear!”

  Virillius cleared his throat. “Master Greenwood?”

  “I don’t really know what’s best or even reasonable, but if we do have to pay reparations, I hope it isn’t too much. I don’t really know the specifics, but I heard we’ve been broke since the revolution.”

  “Oh, great. Another guy who didn’t really think about his goddamn argument.”

  “Boo! Graham 2.0! Get out!”

  “Hey, cut him some slack. He’s Vel’khanese. Dude probably had no idea what was even going on.”

  “You’re just defending him because of your elf fetish.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t have an elf fetish! And he doesn’t even have thighs like the other one!”

  “Queen Arciel?” asked Virillius.

  “I shall be frank, I see little reason for reparation. The Tornatus incident was a matter of Cadrian-on-Cadrian violence, and I do not believe Vel’khan is to be held responsible. However, I do not wish for conflict to be merely swept under the table. To be clear, I am not demanding an apology. While it was an easily avoidable Cadrian matter that birthed this conflict, Vel’khan explicitly elected to follow the path of intervention. For what reason, you may wonder, would we embark on a path of such tomfoolery? There is an obvious justification.”

  “Holy shit, stop ranting and get to the point!”

  “And stop talking funny! Get on with the goddamn violence!”

  “Yeah dude, what the hell!”

  Arciel raised a brow at the hecklers, but continued. “We, the Vel’khanese people, seek to bond with Cadria and borrow its influence, and it was through this proxy war that we could best secure your nation’s attention. I firmly believe, from our demonstrations, that we have proven ourselves worth consideration, perhaps even with our crown as a fourth ducal house. To be clear, I promote not the colonization described by Master Graham, but direct integration as a Cadrian province. For having stepped upon its soil myself, I see the prosperity granted to the Cadrian people and the boons provided by its technology. I see a culture that, while brutal and error prone, highlights individual benefit without any compromise on the group’s behalf. I see countless ways to bolster our resources and increase the efficiencies of our day-to-day functions.”

  “Boo! Get to the point! Just say you suck if you suck!”

  “And if you’re gonna suck, at least suck us!”

  “She’s half your size, bro. I don’t think it’ll fit.”

  “I’ll make it fit!”

  “Dude. That’s their queen.”

  “That only makes it hotter!”

  “I’d pay to see that,” said Chloe, who had for some odd reason mingled into the crowd. “Er, I mean, purely as a hallucination.”

  “It’s okay, I understand,” said Miss Brigham. “I get off to weird shit too.”

  “Oh, now she admits it.”

  “Of course, it is not only Vel’khan that shall see benefit from this manner of arrangement. Cadria stands to gain from the many connections that Vel’khan holds as a maritime nation and trade route. Further, we shall provide additional methods of transportation—gates that connect key Cadrian locations so that travel between them may be instantaneous. And course, so too shall we provide an excuse to take the lands between us. For if Vel’khan becomes a part of Cadria, then there remains little reason for us to be geographically parted.”

  “Oh my god, she’s finally done!”

  “I have no idea what she just said but I agree. All hail Queen Cowtits.”

  “Guys… seriously. You need to calm down.”

  “Shut up, elf-licker.”

  “Thank you, Queen Arciel,” said Virillius. “Durham?”

  “I got nothing, boss. Honestly, I kinda don’t give a shit. The girl’s idea sounds kinda dumb, though.”

  There was a bunch of booing and food wastage. Though in Durham’s case, it was mostly his subordinates that kicked up a fuss.

  “Dude! At least put some thought in, what the hell!”

  “Yeah, you lazy bastard! You literally never do anything! Fucking waste of space!”

  “At least have an opinion!”

  Brow twitching, Durham caught one of the sandwiches and returned it full force. “Fuck you!”

  “No, fuck you! If you’re going to not think, at least pick a fight, holy shit!” screamed an elf.

  “Fuck you! Suck my dick!” shouted Durham. “I don’t see you down here, shithead!”

  “Thank you, Durham, that’s enough,” said Virillius, with a cough. “I am personally of the opinion that we are best off forming a mutually beneficial relationship with Vel’khan. Cadria has lacked in the naval department. We command many seafaring vessels, but they are incapable of truly conquering the oceans. Even if we were to empower our vessels to the point of never worrying about disembarkment, we would never truly become the ocean’s masters, for a reliance on technology cannot lead to permanent empowerment. We must integrate species that are capable of naval and submarine combat. This role has traditionally been left to the lamias, and while there are certainly many of them among us, they still suffer from a population crisis and cannot dedicate all of their efforts posthaste. We must seek Ryllian natives, and I believe that a strong bond with Vel’khan is the answer that we require. However, I do not have any personal preferences as to its shape or nature.”

  It was a well-reasoned, perfectly Cadrian argument, painted through the sort of frame that his followers were sure to enjoy. And for once, the crowd didn’t jeer and opted instead to whisper their contemplations.

  “To summarize, the options brought up by our winning champions are colonization, reparation, assimilation, and cooperation,” said Virillius. “I believe that with these suggestions, we have covered most if not all of the reasonable spectrum of resolutions. To that end, I would like to invite the opinions of our neutral parties.”

  “The gates make it worth it.” Canterbell was the first to speak. “I know how they work, but I can’t reproduce them. I need material that works with the specific magic subtype, but nothing seems to be working. Even if I do put something together, it won’t be any time soon. We’re probably best off working with them.”

  “As Kryddar’s king, I can’t quite say I’m as keen on Queen Arciel’s suggestion,” said Ragnar, with a laugh. “You’re better off forming an alliance, just so you don’t rock as many boats. Don’t really see why Vel’khan should be paying reparations either. Since, you know, it’s the princess’ fault.”

  “Integration is more beneficial than a mutual defense pact, especially if we delay a public announcement,” said Rubia. “The Western Alliance is already planning to attack, and they are the second greatest force on the continent that we are aware of. If we crush them, then I doubt any other countries will be willing to directly voice their opposition. And even if they do, it’s unlikely to amount to much. Cadria’s approach to conquest is largely altruistic and the one reasonable concern is the elimination of one’s prior culture. If we take a few steps to mitigate any such trouble, I believe we should be able to silence all opposition for the foreseeable future.”

  Ragnar crossed his arms and frowned. “I mean, sure, but that’s just intimidation. Too much power in one nation’s hands never really makes for the best look. In the long run, all it does is make your allies shit themselves and turn on you. Leaders and ideals can change. You never know when power’ll end up in the wrong hands. Might be in a thousand years, but war is inevitable.”

  “You’re forgetting we’re in Cadria,” said Canterbell. “Look around you. These idiots are practically itching for a fight. They’d be happier if everything devolved into violence.”

  Ragnar pressed a hand to his face and massaged his brow. “Right. Good point.”

  “Thank you all,” said Virillius. “Let’s return to the victor’s table. I would like to determine if there are any of us who have changed our minds. The first topic to vote on will be colonization. Before we proceed, is there anyone who wishes to engage in further discussion about this option or its details?”

  No one said anything.

  “Then let us vote upon it. For those of you who are new to the process, you are entitled to one vote for every round. Participation is not mandatory.” He paused to ensure that the Vel’khanese understood before continuing. “If you believe that colonization is a valid path to pursue, please raise your fists. If you would like to reject it, then please raise an open hand.”

  Four hands went up in rejection while one voted in favour. Only Durham’s vote was left on the table.

  “Boo!” jeered the crowd.

  “Graham fucking Marinus! Of fucking course!”

  “Fuck you, you senile piece of shit!”

  “Learn to change your opinion, asshole!”

  “Someone kick this motherfucker’s ass!”

  “Does anyone feel strongly enough about colonization to challenge Master Graham in combat and eliminate his vote?” asked Virillius.

  “Kick his ass! Kick his ass! Kick his ass!” shouted someone in the front row. “Please, for the love of Vella! Someone! Anyone! I don’t want to be here for three fucking hours because some old ass brick is too stubborn to change his mind!”

  “I shall,” said Arciel.

  “Your challenge is accepted, Queen Arciel,” said Graham.

  “Oh thank the gods!” shouted Miss Brigham. “Please beat the shit out of him and strangle him with your thighs!”

  “Always you and the thighs… Is that it? Is it just thighs and not elves?”

  “Then a duel it will be.” Virillius nodded at one of the maids, who inputted a series of commands into one of the panels by the door.

  The castle suddenly split apart, allowing the subterranean council room to rise up from underground. Powered by the crystal attached to its base, the makeshift arena slowly floated up into the sky as it suddenly expanded. The tables broke apart and slid away, leaving a space in the middle to form as a hexagonal table.

  A terraformer kicked in as soon as Graham and Arciel stepped into the ring and transformed the floating space into a temple dedicated to the Goddess of War.

  “Would either of you like to nominate a proxy to fight in your place?”

  “That is allowed?” asked Arciel.

  “It is. These duels have no expectation for length or showmanship, nor do they require our representatives to fight for themselves,” said Virillius. “It is strictly a matter of might making right.”

  “He says that, but we still appreciate a show!” shouted Miss Brigham.

  “I presume I am allowed to call upon any proxy I wish?”

  “So long as they consent.”

  “I shall keep that in mind,” said Arciel. “In this particular case, I wish to represent myself.”

  “Understood. Master Graham, will you be representing yourself as well?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.

  “Excellent.” Virillius clasped his hands together. “You may begin when ready.”

  On cue, Arciel raised her wand, shot a beam across the ring, and instantly decided the duel, just as she had on the day of her match.