Cool night air caressed my face as I lay on my back, staring up at the unfamiliar sky. Moments like this had been few and far between, and I was determined to savour it.

We’d set off from Larm three days prior, and a swarm of soldiers and carts and Mages blotted out the green of the plains, our makeshift camp taking up the area of a small town. Surrounding me was a sea of tents and fires, with troops milling around, grumbling—as I’d learned they tend to—and wondering if they’d have a chance to fight this time.

I paid it no heed. In my eyes, that was sort of the point. An army was like hemorrhoid cream—it’s a handy thing to have in the cupboard, just in case, but you hope you’ll never have to use it.

In total, I’d brought five thousand, which was probably a third of Aleister’s total forces, though this estimate was before I’d done my utmost to convince them whose side they should be on. I figured I might have turned about half, and they made up the bulk of the revolutionary forces.

Usually, I smelled the troops before I saw them. Them, and horses. Oh so many fucking horses. I even had my own now—Riterra, a stalwart black beast with a white patch on his forehead. He was bulky and a little intimidating, but calm, and I had no problems riding him.

Unless I counted all the times I’d fallen off, which I didn’t. Those bruises were not horse-related.

I’d tied him to a post a few feet away, where he idly munched on grass.

Duke Kalvin and General Melric accompanied me, with General Karron staying back to command any defence. I’d left Konstantin in charge of governance.

My Council had been against me coming, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. This was my plan, and its success or failure was on my head—I had to see it through. It wasn’t my fault there were no better options, but whether I liked it or not, it was my responsibility.

The duchy’s monopoly on crops was unhealthy, and the state of the kingdom showed it. Reclaiming it would give us a logistics boost, allowing me to centralise more while easing the supply issues driving inflation.

As a bonus, I’d be able to cut out some of the rot growing in the roots of the kingdom. I just hoped it was worth it.

A weary sigh escaped my lips. When I’d first come to Sarabethia, I’d been full of hope for a better life. Now, though, issues dog-piled on top of each other like some kind of demented rugby match, and I struggled to keep up.

“Sire?” Hana sat down beside me, eyeing me inquisitively. I peered back up at her, trying to keep the worry from my features. What if the cost was too high? What if, despite my best efforts, my march of progress was tainted by the stench of blood?

What if I let my friends down?

“There you are!” Shia stumbled over from between a pair of wide tents, narrowly avoiding tripping into the fire next to me. “I’ve been searching for you.”

“What’s up?” I said, propping myself up with my arms.

“Nothing in particular,” she replied. “I simply desired to be near you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Couldn’t find anyone nice to ogle, then?”

She blushed and stammered, scowling at me. “Wh—what could possibly give you that impression? I’m entirely focused on the matter at hand!”

Yeah, right. I’ve seen through your eyes, you horny creature. “What?” I said, “endless walking? Yeah, seems important to me.”

“Life is about the journey,” she replied, “not the destination.”

“What, you read that on the back of a…?” What was the medieval equivalent of a cereal box? “Sheepskin?”

“‘Alain Marastrus’ Guide to the Beaten Path’, actually.”

I faltered. That sounded like some pop psychology bestseller that spent three hundred pages saying nothing at all. What other kind of books did they have, I wondered? I could have used a nice cultivation story.

Edging closer, Hana shook her head. “The march is perhaps as important as the battle at the end of it, sire.”

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“Preferably,” I said, “there won’t be a battle in the first place.”

“I know.” She brushed her hair back. “Life rarely goes as we’d prefer, however.”

True that. If it did, I’d have been off in some far-flung forest using ridiculously overpowered Skills to defeat Demons, or something.

Instead, I was leading an army. Or pretending to, at least. My two Generals did most of the heavy lifting.

“I guess I miss when things were simple,” I said. “Even if it was boring as all hell.” Yep, back when I didn’t have to worry about people dying because of my decisions, or where the next assassin would come from.

She rubbed my shoulder. “Is anything ever truly simple? When we gaze at the stars, do we not wonder of the infinite possibilities possessed within them? Of how our existence has those same possibilities?”

I studied her as she contemplated the heavens. Hana wasn’t usually philosophical, yet here we were—had I had an influence, or was this just a different side of her? Either way, it was refreshing.

“Mostly,” I said, “I just wonder if I’m doing the right thing.”

“I believe you are,” said Shia, smiling. “You’ve already brought hope to so many people, and because of that, they’ve seized the initiative to depose Aleister themselves.”

“But what if your father was right?” I asked, closing my eyes. “What if just marching on him in the first place would have saved all those people their extra pain?”

“Would the pain not have simply been transferred to others?” said Hana. “You took this path to avoid an excessive loss of life, even when we advised you against it. Perhaps it has not been perfect, but is anything? I believe what you are doing is incredibly noble.”

“Yeah,” said Shia. “If you’d chosen the violent method, maybe people would obey you, but I don’t think they’d understand why they should. Now, they do.”

I bit my lip. “Should they, though? They’re not stupid, but without education, how deep can that understanding really go? Have I swayed them with pretty words and promises? Am I just a fate granted to them by their gods? In that case, isn’t Aleister?

“What’s the thought process that makes them follow someone?”

“It is not that deep,” said Hana. “I do not believe it has to be. Humans, elves, and Beastmen all share the same capacity—we are all capable of dreaming.

“Even under the feeling of a Pillar-given fate, even if they cannot put it into words, people will feel instinctually when it is wrong. A clawing feeling in the pit of their stomach. When somebody explains this wrongness—and offers change—they will follow.”

Shia nodded, then said, “Besides, isn’t it a little late to be contemplating this when they’ve already accepted your offer of deliverance?”

I sighed again, considering their words. Without hesitation, I’d plunged head-first into my plan to cause a revolution, and we were hurtling toward the finish line. Even if I’d started doubting myself, it was too late to turn back.

And Hana had eased those doubts. Hadn’t I been appealing to hopes and dreams in the first place, with my speeches and ambitious projects? How was I unsure of their power now?

Sure, my gut felt full of buzzing needles, and every step closer to Zarua quickened the pace of my heart. But that nervousness, I realised, was normal. I was heading to a direct confrontation with my enemy.

I needed to steel myself, and this had helped me do it.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling warmly at them both.

***

Four days later, we arrived. Immediately, an acrid smell drifted up my nose, and my chest clenched. Wisps of smoke rose from behind the high stone walls, and a murmur rippled through the masses around me. I couldn’t see the source, of course, but it seemed ominous, and viscous silence penetrated the air.

Even Riterra was nervous. He brayed and whinnied, forcing me to pull the reins.

Duke Kalvin trotted up beside me on his own mount. “Sire,” he said, his tone guarded, “it appears that the gates are open.”

Brilliant, then. Visions of an opposing army firing arrows and magic from atop the wall had invaded my mind, so it was nice to know we wouldn’t have to lose soldiers just entering the city.

Our Mages could have destroyed the walls, but that would have hurt us in the long run. Zarua was backed into Mount Kastara—named, I’d been told, for the family of miners who had originally prospected it—and had shielding from Antira, but that didn’t negate other opposition.

Hell, with what Duke Kalvin had told me about Tenma, there was still a chance he’d come to fuck all our shit up. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

“So we just walk in,” I finally said, breathing deeply to calm my nerves. A lot was at stake here, and I wanted to claim it with as few losses as possible.

Maybe that was greedy, but wasn’t I entitled to a little greed? I’d taken the weight of a nation on my shoulders. Even if sacrifice was inevitable, did that mean I should stop trying?

“I’m afraid,” said Duke Kalvin, “that will be a lot more difficult than you believe.”

The soldiers in front of me began to part, and I led Riterra through the gap, emulating Moses. All I needed was a staff and some delusions and I was sorted. I was a King rather than a prince, but hey, if the shoe fits…

I held no illusions of being a saviour, though. I was just doing the best I could. If I could save lives in the process, great. If not, I could cry about it in my own time.

As I reached the front of the column, a lump formed in my throat.

Before the open gates stood a mass of humanity almost as large as my own, dressed mostly in Riberan colours, though some appeared to be commoners, all wielding a smorgasbord of weapons from spears to axes to clubs.

Fuck.

I guessed we were fighting, after all.