"Venerable Emperor, the capital is under siege by the Duke of Auberville's forces! Please! You must return immediately and save the city!" Pedro cried with all his heart, delivering news about the grim fate.
The instant his words fell, the faces of everyone inside the tent looked worse to wear. General Arlo, being an experienced veteran, recovered first from his daze and immediately interrogated the young stable hand. "Who are you? Which messenger division do you belong under? How come I have never seen you before?"
Under the old general's imposing aura, Pedro felt his courage faltering. He quickly scraped the floor with his forehead and hurriedly answered. "Wise General, this servant is not a messenger belonging to any division. This servant is but a stable hand employed at the imperial palace."
"Stablehand?"
"Imperial Palace?"
Voices of doubt began spreading within the tent.
Assaulted with similar doubts, General Arlo quickly asked, "What's a lowly stable hand doing here? How dare you pose yourself as a messenger of the empire!? Do you not know of the cost of your lies!?"
Had Pedro been a messenger, then we would've been asked to prove himself with a medallion. However, his being a stablehand immediately cast doubt on the validity of the news that he brought and made everyone suspect him to be a tool of the enemy.
Thinking this was his chance to shine, a captain immediately cupped his hands and spoke, "Venerable Emperor! General Arlo! This servant thinks that this is a ruse by Ferdinand's loyalists in a desperate attempt to stall our forces. This servant advises the emperor and general to ignore this news and behead this pawn who dares to pose as an imperial messenger!"
Pedro almost immediately lost control of his bowels upon hearing those words. However, recalling the imposing army that headed towards the capital city, his home, he quickly summoned his courage and explained.
"Mighty Ones, please heed this lowly one's words. It is true that I lied about my station as an imperial messenger, however, I did not lie about anything else! Please! You must trust my words and immediately return to rescue the capital!"
"Hah! This dog!" The captain from earlier stomped towards the kneeling stable hand and stepped on his head with his boots. Crushing his face into the floor, he spewed some expletives. "Do you honestly think that you can lie to us, you son of a wh*re? I suggest that you immediately start speaking the truth. Else, I shall behead you right here!" He drew the sword by his waist.
"Stop." Alexandros raised his hand. The captain immediately stood aside and bowed deferentially. Pedro, with tears, snot, and blood dripping down his face, attempted his best to silence his whimpers.
Casting a gaze at the guard who had brought this 'could-be' messenger here, Alexandros evenly asked, "Tell Us, how did you confirm this person to be an imperial messenger since he carries no medallion?"
The boy emperor's words immediately brought the attention of the tent to a matter that all of them had subconsciously ignored.
Alexandros' words indeed held water. How did the guard confirm the status of this young stable hand without the medallion? How did he allow him entry into the most densely protected tent within the army's encampment?
"Replying to Venerable Emperor," answered the guard. "The youth carried an envelope bearing the Imperial Seal. Seeing that, this one believed him to be an imperial messenger."
His reply caused the tent to doubt their previous hypothesis immediately. The captain, who had cast shade on the stable hand's identity, instantly found himself sweating profusely.
"Is that true?" asked the boy emperor, turning towards the kneeling stable hand. "Give Us the letter."
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Lifting his quivering body, Pedro obediently handed over the letter entrusted to him by the young scholar to the emperor.
Receiving the unmarked letter, Alexandros immediately recognized the paper. Indeed, its scent and texture could not be any more familiar to the boy emperor.
With hurried actions, he immediately tore open the sheath and retrieved the parchment from within. Written on it were the following words.
'Your Majesty, in a rather unexpected twist, the capital city finds itself besieged by enemy forces. The enemy is within and your majesty is without. To return in time would prove to be impossible.'
'Before your majesty extends two paths; the first path sees your majesty returning in haste to the capital city. However, by then, the city would have already fallen. A painful, ill-prepared siege will have to be mounted to reclaim the city. Many, many lives will be lost in the process.'
'The second path sees your majesty ignoring the plight of the capital city. The empire's army blazes a trail of vengeance against the enemy that robbed them of their own. With vigour and morale at an all-time high, backed by righteous cause, your majesty will be able to fell the enemy headquarters and reclaim a third of the empire's original lands in exchange for one capital city.'
'This reminds me of the question that I posed to Your Majesty before your departure; which is more important? The means of victory? Or the victory itself?'
'I hope this campaign has proven fruitful enough to enlighten Your Majesty with an answer. For it is time now to choose.'
'Sincerely
Your Eternally Loyal Servant'
Alexandros' hands unconsciously tightened to grip the letter in his hands. The colour of his face alternated between a furious red and a pale white. A few seconds later, he let out a sigh, put down the letter in his hand, and faced the kneeling stable hand.
"You," he pointed at Pedro, "explain to Us the events leading up to this letter."
Furiously nodding his head with fear, Pedro explained everything; from his meeting with Wuzhi at the imperial stables to his danger-fraught journey to deliver the letter to the emperor.
At the end of Pedro's explanation, General Arlo gazed at the boy emperor and asked, "Your Royal Eminence, that letter…"
Nodding his head, Alexandros replied, "It's from my study. This stable boy speaks the truth." A grim expression covered his face.
A disquieting silence fell within the tent as the facial expressions of everyone alternated between pale fright, baleful anger, dubious confusion, and utter stupefaction.
The capital city was under siege by the forces of the Duke of Auberville, a prior servant of the South Aislan Empire. If one were to view the timeline of events, one would notice that the siege had begun almost a week ago! It was unclear whether the city had fallen or not.
The capital city, Caroxtel, was the single most fortified city under the Empire. A million men laying siege for a month could not say with definite certainty that they would be able to fell the city!
Its walls consisted of literal mountains made of solid stone. The fortifications were easily guardable and its sheer length made it neigh assailable. The freshwater lake nestled inside the city proved as an inexhaustible source of water for the inhabitants. The city's granaries held a year's worth of rations and could easily outlast the military rations of the enemy.
All in all, laying siege to the capital city was a fool's errand. Everyone knew this fact.
And yet, the Duke of Auberville had precisely chosen this route.
"Your Royal Eminence," General Arlo spoke in a hoarse tone. "This servant feels that this siege to be unordinary. That man, the Duke of Auberville, is of an unordinary heart and keen intellect. Having cooperated with him in the past, this servant knows of his character; he does not move until he's certain of success."
"For him to move now," the wizened general took a deep breath, "I'm afraid that he's certain of his plans for felling the city."
Everyone within the tent collectively breathed in a sharp intake of air. The atmosphere turned even more depressive.
Minutes of tense silence passed and nobody dared speak up.
Caroxtel City wasn't merely the capital of the empire but also its spiritual centre. It represented the empire's unfaltering might and was its infallible home that, no matter the threat, would never fall. And yet, now, the fate of such a land sat in the conniving hands of the Duke of Auberville.
"Your Royal Eminence," General Arlo spoke up. "This servant dares to propose a—"
"You needn't speak up," Alexandros raised his hand and ended the general's speech. Lifting his head, the boy emperor swept his citrine eyes past every single person inside the tent. Everybody who met with his glance could feel the coolness and resolve hidden within its depths.
In an even voice, that was seven parts certain and three parts wrathful, Alexandros declared, "We shall immediately return to the capital city. Whether it remains standing or falls before our arrival, We will never have it exchange hands with anyone!"
"Not with the Auberville Duke. Not with the foreign devils. Not with the Heavenly Emperor himself!"
[AN: Heavenly Emperor is the leader and big-dog of the Heavenly Spirit Empire.]
Alexandros had made his choice. To hell with means and ends! For as long as he was alive, even the Heavens could forget about taking his home away from him!