Regality, Incarnate.
The Prince of Irine, was not dull man. He was not one to indulge in egoist thoughts, and he was not one to carry out ignorant views upon others. For he, was regality incarnate.
Or at least, that’s what he needed his subordinating aristocrats to think.
Regality? What a joke. The aristocracy is a stupid societal norm.
For that reason, he’d already purged over half of his country’s nobles, all of whom were incompetent; or didn’t appreciate his rise to power. The nobles surrounding him were at the very least, a tad above the standard intelligence of a nobleman. It was the Royal Assembly.
To think that my father had appointed such mediocre men to power. Purged. I’ll have these fools who beset me on all sides purged like the others. Their Grand status doesn’t very well grant them amazing powers does it?
He’d finally seen firsthand the idiocy of those bickering around the table before him. These men had been arguing for the past half hour about what course of action to take: Either bring the Royal Armies from the north down to the south to finally wipe out the one, persisting threat there; Or, continue the nation’s push north.
On one hand, the Principality had met a road bump in their unstoppable upward advance, the Deadzone. Going through it was out of the question, so if they wanted to push their armies further north, they’d have to funnel all of them through a single city. The Dead Zone lay in the northeast of Aleeze, and it was about as big as a larger northern nation, so it served as a natural block between the Irine Principality and the rest of the north. Only one city, on the coast of Lake Aleeze, was the only pass through. The small straight that lay in between the Dead zone and Lake Aleeze had been quite thoroughly populated with caravans and merchants, so a city inevitably formed.
However, if the Principality were to continue it’s advance and sustain it’s hunger for land, they’d need to funnel the nearly 10 million men of Army Group North through a single, small straight. It would take time, and their supply lines would be severely vulnerable and in need of reorganization if they were to proceed with the advance.
So, in the Prince’s opinion, he was opposed to the idea, he’d rather delegate a small portion the Northern Army Group-perhaps 2-3 million higher quality troops- to go and finally rid them of the stain of Irine’s southern front. The southern front had been under conflict for the past half a year; the once one million strong Southern Army Group had suffered mind boggling numbers of deaths. All of them from what appeared to be a single, and small, Sidonian army. They were entrenched, yes, and reports were definitely not saying that they hadn’t taken any losses themselves…but the kill ratio of the Principality’s forces was simply disgusting to the Prince. He’d rose to power with the expectations of inheriting the world’s finest country;
Strong economic control of Lake Aleeze,
Soldiers that boasted a 1 to 3 worth against the Caliphate,
A navy to bring Andestine to the negotiating table,
And a national unity far stronger than the Caliphate or any northern nation.
Now, after having been in control for the better part of a year, the Prince had seriously reworked his own opinions of the state.
Their economy was no joke, although it was much more vulnerable than he’d previously thought thanks to it’s reliance on Lake Aleeze.
Their ground armies were certainly of higher quality than the Caliphate’s, but the Caliphate had three times the manpower. The military was an ever-increasing strain on the royal budget as well.
Their navy was restricted to Lake Aleeze, it held control of the entire Lake, and by extension all inter-maritime happening throughout Aleeze. Both the Jedathari Caliphate and Andestine were in strong opposition to Irine’s navy extending to the Lagrath River, the largest river in the world that connected the Andestine Strait and Lake Aleeze. The Lagrath River chopped Jedathari lands in half, and all the citizens of Irine hoped that that Irine could wiggle out ownership of it. The Caliphate had no navy to speak of, but Andestine wanted full control of the eastern seas, low and high on the map. The Principality and the Caliphate did not have any shared borders-unless one counted lake Aleeze-for the south was cut by Lake Aleeze, and the north was split by the other weak northern nations.
Although, disregarding all of the Principality’s geopolitical intrigues, the Prince still had a much larger problem:
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A large portion of the dozen nobles present were in favor of continuing the advance north, and declaring war on another country. Irine had just wrapped up a war in the north against a country who hugged the Dead Zone, now their land and people were completely under the Prince’s jurisdiction.
Yet, these fools, these mongrels- these inbreeds, truly believe that it’d be wise to war with another nation.
How he wondered how his father had dealt and worked efficiently with these idiots. The prince had no choice but arrive at the conclusion that his father was just like these nobles: Incompetent.
What would they possibly hope to gain by going to war again?
Would it benefit the people in anyway?
Would it expand the national treasury?
Would it secure Irine’s power projection?
No. It would not, by any conceivable means, be advantageous to get bogged down fighting in the north.
So why? Why do these men live under a notion that if they are not in the midst of a war, they are weak?
The prince knew full well why that was. His nobles had been trying to hide it from him, but the truth was, half of the nobles present were in severe debt. These men had ill-ruled their land had undoubtably indulged too much in themselves and in sloth. Their only solution? Continue fighting.
They had already used up their own, personal assets; but now? They wished to keep themselves afloat with war. At the expensive of the nation; and by extension, the Prince.
It was no wonder then, that these in-debt nobles were all adamantly vying for pushing further north.
Unacceptable. War is only a means of negotiation, a political option from a vast list of ways to get what one wants.
“You buffoon! Why in the Prince’s name would we even try to bulid a navy off the west coast of Aleeze?! Why?! Because of the damned creatures that eat ships for breakfast make their homes in the west sea!”
One of the nobles, who the Prince valued as one of the few men with some actual brains, was having a very bad day. Like the Prince, his intellect was far too great to be even speaking with the nobles who wanted to move north. But unlike the Prince, he still had chosen to converse with them, the Prince had remained silent, quietly judging the nobles before him.
“Count Camerlin is right. A naval invasion or naval supply line in the west sea is unthinkable. Do you perhaps need a visit to the infirmary?”
For the first time in the meeting, the Prince spoke, in defense of Count Camerlin, the poor noble dealing with the fools alone. The other few lords on his level of intelligence had chosen to remain quiet, just like the Prince.
The idiot who’d spoken against Lord Camerlin flaunted an ugly expression, and promptly lowered his head, clenching his fists.
To think, that such an ugly expression could be worn by a Grand Noble in this beautiful room.
To temper his anger at the rapscallion nobles, he looked out the large glass wall that surrounded three quarters of the room. The glassed walls exposed a grand city in midday, it was beset on three quarters of it’s land by water being on a peninsula.
Penthreigin…it will always remain a gorgeous city under my rule.
The Citadel of Iridity stood in the center of the city with it’s towering, unbreakable walls. Their meeting room, the Royal Assembly, had quite the view from such a height.
“If I may intrude my lordship’s discussion…”
A man the same age as the Prince-in his early twenties- piped up next to him.
“Go ahead Sir Remis.”
Sir Remis was the Knight of Principle, the number one knight in Irine and the Prince’s personal guard. The Prince had nothing but overflowing respect for this commoner, who by pure skill and wit had made it all the way to the top of Irine within his youth. He wasn’t just a brainless idiot who swung a sword either, the Prince had appointed Sir Remis as his personal advisor for a reason.
“We still have an issue about those ‘Inquisitors’ from Andestine intruding in our territory.”
“Fear not Sir Remis, even if they wanted to sow chaos within our nation, their plan seems to have backfired…”
Count Camerlin said, piquing the eyebrows of Sir Remis.
“Oh?”
“They were attempting to do us a favor by cleansing our cities from Sidonian influence…but my informants tell me they have already lost half their manpower; The Inquisitors have become prey in our towns to whatever the hell Sidonia sent.”
It infuriated the Prince to know that penetrating his towns was so easy, that it wasn’t even a point of concern if somebody said the Sidonians were behind it.
At this point, we really have no way at stopping those monsters from blending in.
“Hmph. I suppose our ambassadors in Andestine will have a field day with this.”
“Quite so; sending special forces into our land before telling us, and then having them pushed back by enemies so small we can’t even see them? Disgraceful.”
The Prince thought exactly what the conversing Sir Remis and Count Camerlin had said. These two were really starting to show their worth to the Prince.
Compared to the others in this room…
The other nobles in the room, save a few, were staring dumbly at Sir Remis and Camerlin. The Prince would’ve bet anything that they didn’t even have a clue that Andestine had sent Inquisitors to their towns.
“Hmm. Well I see my vassals have paused their bickering, so I’m taking the moment of silence to adjourn today’s meeting. However, those wishing to go to war once more, I have a special proposal, please stay. You are all dismissed.”
A quarter of the nobles including Camerlin stood, bowed to the Prince, stared at their fellow aristocrats, and walked out of the room.
The remaining eight nobleman sat, staring at each other. The Prince waved over Sir Remis, who leaned in.
“Sir Remis, if I may bother you with a little favor…”
The Prince spoke gently into Sir Remis's ear.
“Please speak your orders, milord.”
The Prince’s eyes sharpened, his expression straightening.
“Prince Irine Ir Iridide commands you…please purge these lower lifeforms that dare stand in my court.”
***