The Storm King

“The birthplaces of our Ancestors are out there, in Rhea and Atreus. Is it not time for us to take them back?”

A loud cry of support went up from all corners of the room. No one could say that the scions of the Ten Tribes weren’t enthusiastic about regaining the ancient possessions of their Clans.

After several seconds, silence fell again over the room, and Leon turned his attention upon his High Ministers. “What is our situation like in the Great Strand of Rhea?”

All of them already knew the situation, having monitored it and kept Leon apprised every step of the way. This meeting, however, was almost a performance meant to ensure that not only the High Ministers but also all of their subordinates in the room and other high-ranking members of Leon’s Kingdom were on the same page—that everyone knew the situation and the strategic direction that the Kingdom was going in. So, Leon wasn’t expecting granular details to be shared here, such as how individual planes were faring or the exact movements of every garrison force in the planes; all of that could be shared in the much more practical and less choreographed meetings he regularly had with his military in Flash Fortress.

As was expected, Iron-Striker spoke first, as Leon’s right hand and the highest-ranking of even the High Ministers. “My King,” he said, his voice deep and echoing through the hall, vigorous enough to speak to Iron-Striker’s returned strength, “the planes are secure. Supplies have been gathered, and we only await your word to continue expanding into the Great Strand of Rhea.”

Leon’s lips lifted slightly, though not at the ‘good news’. Rather, he knew that things were more mixed out there, even if the overall situation was in hand.

As was feared, the five thin corridors snaking through the Great Strand of Rhea toward Jericho’s territory were not particularly defensible. They served their roles well as staging points for further expansion, but in the century since Leon’s forces swept through them, adding all of their planes to his Kingdom, smaller neighboring powers had begun to test their defenses. For the first quarter century following Leon’s duel against Alderion, every single ark and every single trained legion soldier had to be sent out into the planes to garrison and defend what had been taken.

Once the corridors were widened and those neighboring powers were annexed, the territory in the planes would be secure enough not to need such heavy garrisoning. Already, some shaping operations had been carried out over the past decade, preparing the hundreds of planar clusters between the corridors for visitations from Leon’s diplomats and soldiers. Pirate bases had been crushed, raiding fleets interdicted, and clusters were scouted out and mapped.

The situation had gone from frantically defending what had been taken to favoring Leon’s forces, but maintaining that situation would be too costly to allow, and offensive operations had to begin soon if Leon didn’t want those planes to drain his resources rather than add to them.

Leon nodded in response to Iron-Striker and turned his attention to Ipatameni, giving him the silent signal to give his ‘report’.

“The treasury is more than able to support extended campaigning. The sale of storm crystals has only increased by the year, and more mundane trade is up by more than one hundred thousand percent. Taxes have reached a sustainable level, and tribute from vassals ensures that not only are we meeting the demand for strategic materials, we’re even building up a strategic reserve.”

More good news, though in this case, Leon knew that his financial situation actually was that good. For the moment, the new planes were almost covering their cost, and the combination of recovery in the Nexus and his much greater reach throughout the Far West allowed his people to start exporting their surplus. The increase in trade was a stupefying figure, but it was also understandable given just how little trading had been taking place before Leon’s triumph over Antipatra, Triton, and Alderion—the Heaven’s Eye Merchant Guild had expanded considerably over the past century to accommodate this much greater volume of trade. Combined with vassal tribute covering everything that his Kingdom needed to buy, aside from the occasional one-off thing, his treasury was particularly healthy.

Gold met crimson as Leon’s attention then fell upon Clear Day.

“Your Majesty, the people clamor to join your Kingdom,” the tau said with greater theatrical flair than either Iron-Striker or Ipatameni. “Everywhere my wings touch, my words find open ears and open hearts. The planes in the Great Strand of Rhea are as open to you as any door in this palace.”

Leon’s good cheer wavered for a moment. He didn’t like such obsequiousness, and he knew that Clear Day knew that. However, the ghost of a teasing smile flickered across the tau’s aged face, and Leon immediately recognized that his Chief Diplomat was having fun, especially since they both knew the real situation.

The planes were, as he could expect, hardly as open to him as the doors in his own home, but there were some receptive ears in Rhea. Leon had come to expect that about twenty percent of planes visited by Clear’s diplomats would join his Kingdom willingly, and in the past century, that percentage only grew as his diplomats became more adept at making contact with planar powers. He’d been somewhat spoiled so far, finding many small federations and organized states spanning multiple planes that could be convinced, threatened, or warred against so far, but it was worth remembering that most planes in the Nexus were divided and unable to reach past their own terminus lines, let alone conquer other planes.

He’d been somewhat surprised to find that it was these planes, rather than those that had spread across their local clusters or that might at least have small merchant or defense fleets around their planes, that were the hardest to diplomatically annex. After some time to think about it, however, he found the sense in it—a King, Emperor, or anyone else at the head of a planar or transplanar state might resist out of pride, but they were ultimately a single person who could be negotiated with. Even when power was more divided within a single plane-spanning state, they would at least recognize the power of his Kingdom and submit on favorable terms rather than fight a hopeless war.

Those planes that were internally divided among multiple weaker states, however, were harder, as all of those weaker powers often had to be convinced individually. If those powers didn’t recognize the threat he posed, they’d be more likely to try to violently resist. He imagined it would be easier to deal with now-Stellarch Makarios and all of his planes rather than trying to deal with a single Aeterna.

Still, he knew that Clear Day was doing spectacular work out in Rhea, even if ‘only’ about a quarter to a third of his diplomatic efforts paid off. That quarter to a third of new or soon-to-be vassals were some of the strongest powers that his fleets and legions would have to face, and getting them out of the way without shedding a single drop of blood was worthy of celebration and honors.

For the rest, his fleets and legions would earn their keep. Most of the time, their arrival alone was enough to get the desired result, and those that submitted kept their autonomy under less favorable terms, but the rest of the recalcitrant planes would be outright and fully annexed, added to his personal domain, and ruled by his administration directly.

Next to speak was Gaius, and he didn’t hesitate once Leon’s eyes fell upon him.

“Work at reconciling laws throughout the Kingdom is proceeding at a quick pace, Your Majesty,” Gaius reported. “The Praetors and Investigators bring justice and stamp out corruption everywhere they go.”

Justice. The concept could be flexible, and frequently, Leon had to respond to petitions and issue decrees expanding or restricting various laws, or adjudicating between what one of his vassals decreed and what his Kingdom’s laws dictated. He was grateful beyond words that he didn’t have to spend all day writing legislation himself, but there were some things that he, as King, had to involve himself in. He had to make his will known, and when laws were written and enforced based on that will, they sometimes had to be clarified when put into practice.

It was hardly a perfect system, and those imperfections could be exacerbated by imperfect governors. He did his best to select meritorious Stellarchs to govern planar clusters, Planarchs to govern planes, and to help other locals govern themselves so that he wouldn’t have to, but sometimes, bad practices or bad people were allowed to fester. His Investigators, having sprung from Iron-Striker’s Inquisitors, brought these imperfections to his attention, and his Praetors issued judgments according to his laws and later decisions.

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For all of its imperfections, it was working, even if the flood of petitions could be quite overwhelming at times. Leon had had to expand his own personal staff significantly, adding hundreds of secretaries and law specialists, just to keep up with the sheer number of petitions that his trans-planar Empire generated.

Thankfully, in the past century, he’d only had to replace nine Planarchs and only a single Stellarch for corruption, and only one Planarch for treason. Oddly enough, Makarios had been one of his most loyal Stellarchs, keeping the peace amongst those planes that he’d once ruled over as monarch with the auxiliary forces that Leon allowed him to maintain—even if he’d forced those auxiliaries to conform to his own military’s standard.

Solomon came next, and the Tiger wasted not a single moment once he felt the weight of Leon’s gaze.

“Your Majesty, your loyal warriors are ready to bring your word to those who have yet to hear your voice. Your fleets outnumber the stars in the sky, and your legions are as numerous as grains of sand on the shore. Our readiness is high.”

Out of all of his ministers’ reports, Leon was quite possibly least in need of Solomon’s. He’d just returned from dealing with Joramhal, and though his armies and fleets had hardly gotten much practice over the past century, given he’d largely handled Alderion’s former vassals personally, he never embarked without confirming the status of those forces that would accompany him.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Solomon was thriving in his position; his worth had been proven before Leon had even become King, having long defended the eastern coast of Kataigida. Given that he was also so close to the Jaguar, he’d easily slid into place as Leon’s Marshal, organizing, rebuilding, and expanding the military that the Jaguar had done so much to build. Whether or not the officers were from the Ten Tribes or not, Leon had heard no complaints about Solomon’s command style and was able to personally verify the man’s competence given how closely he watched his own warriors.

In the past century, his fleets were larger than they’d ever been, he had more legions than ever, and his machines of war were more powerful than any that his Kingdom had ever built. The giants were numerous enough to integrate ever more closely with his war machines, alleviating the need for his post-Apotheosis mages to contribute wisps and ensuring that all of those magical systems they integrated into were operating at peak efficiency.

His forces were now numerous enough to launch dozens of expeditions—even if only a few could be as large as the Task Forces he’d sent out a century ago—while still defending his Nexus territory without relying too heavily on vassal auxiliaries. He was proud of Solomon’s work and was eager to see it put to use.

Finally, his eyes fell upon Felix, the last of his High Ministers to speak. As the commander of his Tempest Knights, a force which was still limited to only twenty thousand knights to keep them from competing with the regular legions, Felix was essentially the head of law enforcement within Artorion. The city was an almost chaotic mess of different autonomous powers existing alongside Leon’s own personally ruled districts, but Felix, like Alcander before him, made it work alongside Gaius’ Investigators and Praetors.

“The Tempest Knights are in fighting form, my King,” Felix reported. “And peace has held Artorion for so long that I fear the city might tear itself apart with pent-up energy. We are all yours to direct, and we are ready to be directed.”

Leon stifled a chuckle at Felix’s phrasing. The integration of so many peoples into his Kingdom had led to an explosion of sports and other competitions, especially within Artorion. None had yet replaced chariot racing and gladiator contests as the largest-scale events, but it hardly mattered what kind of sporting event took place; the rate of rioting and excessive partying had skyrocketed in the lull between great wars where the young could prove themselves.

And that was soon to change, as the entire city could see with their own eyes. Thousands of arks had assembled not just within the city itself but also all around the Artor Valley, ready to bear his legions out to new planes and add them to his Kingdom. New legions marched through the streets seemingly every day, assembling and training south and east of the valley. Artorion was hardly the only place where Leon’s legions trained and assembled, but it was by far the largest such mustering point in his entire Kingdom, as the city knew personally.

With all of his High Ministers finishing their brief ‘reports’, Leon laid a hand on the table, subtly activating the enchantment within.

“Then let us see for ourselves what our next steps entail,” he said as a projection appeared over the table, large and bright enough for the entire hall to see. “The Great Strand of Rhea,” Leon identified as millions upon millions of stars glimmered in the projection. The vast majority orbited lifeless planes, but there were still thousands of inhabited planes within the Great Strand, with populations ranging from the thousands to the billions.

Five needle-thin corridors snaked into the Great Strand from one side, showing what had already been conquered. Less than a single paltry percent had been taken so far, and it was time to expand that percentage.

“Over the next few years,” Leon continued, “fleets will muster at staging points within our corridors, and expand them, linking them up until all the Voidspace between each of these corridors becomes ours. At the same time, large Task Forces will be sent to continue along these corridors leading along the outward edge of the Great Strand. Fleets and legions sent afterward will garrison those taken planes, continue connecting these corridors with each other, establish staging points for later fleets to press inward, and reinforce Task Forces when needed.”

It was a simple strategy, but Leon wanted the overarching strategy to remain simple. It would be up to individual commanders to add needed detail according to the situations they faced.

“These,” Leon said as particular points along the outer edge of the Great Strand flashed, “will be rally points. There, our pushes will halt so that our Task Forces remain relatively in line with each other.” Each of these Task Forces was essentially acting as individual columns in a marching army, and Leon wanted them close enough to each other that they could support each other in a pinch. Because he’d allowed each Task Force to largely dictate its own pace before, Menander’s fleet had been crushed, and the others couldn’t do anything about it. This way, the Task Forces shouldn’t ever be more than a week away from each other—an eternity on the battlefield, but still close enough to hopefully make a difference. It would slow the pace considerably, but if it meant fewer broken fleets, Leon was happy.

“It’s expected,” Leon continued, “that we’ll reach Basileus Lorgos’ territory within a century, assuming we don’t run into any unexpected setbacks.” He shared a look first with Clear Day and then his eyes flickered into the corner of the hall where Icarius was sitting with high-ranking members of the Heaven’s Eye Merchant’s Guild.

The Director, as he was once more known within the guild, looked young and spry thanks to his eleventh-tier power reversing his aging over decades. He didn’t look a day older than his daughter Penelope since they were of the same tier.

The same, Leon was sad to see, could not be said for Emilie and Ajax, Elise’s mother and uncle. Emilie had reached the ninth-tier, and Ajax the eighth, but even though they both had centuries of life left, which was more than enough to try for Apotheosis, they were still showing their age. Leon was hopeful that they’d achieve Apotheosis before their end, and he trusted Elise’s father, Jordan, who had surpassed them both to reach the tenth-tier, to keep them motivated.

The differences in their tier didn’t impact the effectiveness with which they conducted business, thankfully, and the merchants who scouted out the Great Strand even before Leon’s diplomats and official scouts, drawn by the lure of untapped markets, returned to his territory with detailed reports of what awaited them. And the Voidspace they’d encountered so far indicated that Leon’s fleets shouldn’t reach any particular threats until they started drawing close to Lorgos’ territory.

The fact that the planar clusters that Antipatra had conquered in her push to make war upon Leon had all collapsed into anarchy after her death helped in that regard, at least from a certain perspective. The value of those planes in a purely practical sense had collapsed, but so too had their threat.

“Another Task Force will be sent along this line,” Leon explained as Antipatra’s corridor was illuminated on the projection cutting through much of the central Great Strand. They would proceed more slowly, but Leon wanted to link up with Theron’s territory deeper in the plane so that he could ensure his protection reached his friend and vassal Strategos. “Additional staging points will be established within this corridor to facilitate future pushes deeper into the Great Strand.”

He ended things there, not wanting to waffle on for hours debating details that had already been settled upon. He’d made his strategic course clear, and those who needed additional details either had them already or were being empowered to settle on those details. In a few weeks’ time, the first Task Forces would depart Artorion, and his Kingdom would go on the offensive, once again expanding into the planes.

He was envious, as he wouldn’t be joining them. Instead, he would remain in the Nexus, and if no great problems were encountered, he wouldn’t again take to the field of battle until they reached Basileus Lorgos’ territory and the time came to finally make good on his alliance with Anax Jericho.

If he were honest, he couldn’t make up his mind about whether or not he wanted something to happen, as even after a century, it still didn’t feel right sending his fleets and legions out without him. But this was needed; he’d gotten his fill of battle in the past century cleaning up after killing Alderion, and his warriors needed to justify their existences, too.

‘Finally,’ he thought as he stared up at the projection. ‘I will match the ancient Thunderbird Clan… and then surpass it!’

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