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Prologue

“Explain this to me once more, please.”

Jacob Youngsprite of Irshal, adviser to the Emperor for fifteen years, knew what was about to occur. Could see the writing on the wall, so to speak.

His greying hair and stooped figure might find one questioning his standing with the Emperor, but then one questioning such a thing would not know who Adviser Youngsprite is.

“Commander Moriarty Vex of the esteemed jingoist has fallen in battle, Vrestige.” The man does well hiding his fear, but Adviser Youngsprite still sees the sweat lining his brow and smells the sickly-sweet scent of petrified dread in the air beneath the fragrances that would give a lesser wolf a headache. The poor man is but a small fry made commander for this very moment, sent to satiate the Emperor's bloodlust.

It’s all too late the next moment for the commander, and Youngsprite hides a frown behind adjusting his spectacles.

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A red streak parts the room in a jagged line as they drag the body from the golden tiles to the outer hall.

The Emperor taps his manicured fingers against the golden glass of his throne.

“Tell me, Jacob, what do I desire?”

The elderly man makes a show of bowing to his long-time friend. “Power, my liege.”

A smile blossoms on the face of the Emperor. A laugh barks from his mouth that makes the nobles gathered watch with concern. Not for their emperor. No, for themselves.

The mood swings of the leader of the Empire were said to be worse than a noblewoman, but with consequences far more dire than a bout of screaming because her latest dress was out of fashion.

As the corpse dragged out can attest to.

“My good, good man. Power. Power has a beauty. A purpose. Without strength, the masses would be vulnerable. All the people need do is follow me for true might to be known throughout the worlds. With me leading into a new age, they will know true power. Those who do not will be crushed.”

The Emperor doesn’t so much as glance at the rest of the nobles lined around the edges of the gaudy room as he locks eyes with Advisor Youngsprite.

“There will be retribution for my son. Bring me the wolf.”