Those in the cavern, Rojan’s allies, could be split into four categories. The first group, like Rojan, were strategists. The second group, knights. The third group, fighters and assassins. The last group, number-loving robots. Or in other words, logistics experts.
The backbone for a new power, was already present.
“Hey Rojan, here’s the documents regarding the city. It’s some really basic stuff, the governor is… well, you’ll see.”
“Thanks, I’ll look it over.”
The more Rojan examined the information provided to him, the more he realized just how much his friends cared for him.
The city’s governor was very much disliked - like every other city, most of the money the city made was by taxing its populace, as well as taxing the nearby villages for “protection” fees. Unlike most cities though, the tax rate the current governor had established was monstrously high, leading the populace to be quite displeased with him.
Constant reports of the governor throwing massive feasts and parties in his mansion didn’t help, either.
Corruption and greed aside, the governor didn’t even seem to be good at his job. The roads of the city were falling into disrepair, and even the harbor, the cash cow of any coastal city, was poorly maintained and operated.
These were only a few of the many shortcomings of the current governor. To put it lightly, the city’s populace would be open to embracing a new power.
Besides… the current governor was really quite too lax. The city had a population of perhaps a hundred thousand, but he had only two thousand troops employed.
His friends could have easily taken the city months ago, but they had waited for him.
Rojan leaned back in his chair and exhaled. Despite his best efforts, he could feel his eyes welling up. After briefly indulging his motions, he wiped his eyes, stood up, and shouted for Wren.
“It’s time to inspect the troops!”
…
About twenty miles southwest of Venite, Rojan stood in front of five thousand men who’d been neatly organized into fifty hundred-man blocks. “Left-face! Right-face! Two steps ahead, right-face!”
It wasn’t just for Rojan’s enjoyment that he continuously directed the soldiers’ movements, sometimes in precise language, other times, less precisely.
It was a simple way to determine how well trained the soldiers were. When thousands move in unison, a single mistake is easy to spot.
In battle, a single mistake can be easy to exploit.
However, despite all of the commands Rojan threw at them, only twice did soldiers pause, unsure of what to do.
Of course, Rojan wouldn’t berate them for this - both occurrences happened when he gave unclear, imprecise orders. In addition, the soldiers had quickly fallen into rank, with only small delays. Clearly, his friends had trained the soldiers well.
After dismissing the soldiers, Rojan and Wren walked out of the camp.
As soon as they were alone, Wren turned to Rojan. “As you can see, these troops will be more than enough to take Venite, but we were more worried about the response from the Peslir Kingdom.
“After all, it’s a large port city, and provides their Kingdom a fair amount of income.”
Rojan nodded. “That it’s a port city is both a blessing and a curse. After all, the Peslir Kingdom’s naval force is nothing to scoff at.”
“Indeed. However, you do not seem very worried. Why is this?”
Rojan stared into Wren’s eyes, amusement clear on his face. “Come on, you’ve known me for so long, and you still don’t know?”
“Hm?”
Wren had met Rojan some five-odd years ago - Wren’s father had been a noble of a city Rojan had helped the Tero Kingdom conquer.
Wren had been twenty at the time, a proud warrior, but he’d felt so powerless that day. Hundreds of soldiers had flooded into his home, slaughtering his family guards. Even his father had sustained several potentially fatal injuries, barely gasping what looked to be his last breaths of air.
Yet, a common-looking teenager had calmly entered the situation and ordered the soldiers to back off.
After the soldiers had left, Wren had grabbed a sword and charged at the teenager, Rojan. The latter, however, had simply pointed at Wren’s father, whose blood had formed a small puddle on the floor.
“I gave you an opportunity to save your father. Are you really going to throw both of your lives away?”
Some, at the time, may have lost themselves in their hot-headedness. However, Wren had chosen to save his father, and eventually his family had regained their former stature. Or else, why would he be standing in front of Rojan now?
But, the events of that day had heavily shaped Wren’s view of the world. The raw confidence and poise Rojan had demonstrated that day had forever been burned into his mind.
“I see. So you had another reason for visiting the nine powers, then?”
“But of course. At each Kingdom, I was able to discuss my opinions with the populace as to what would happen to the Blair Continent in the coming months and years. For the Kingdoms where I wasn’t able to meet with those influential, I debated heavily with actors in public areas, and I’m sure my “thoughts” have made their way to the lords’ ears.
“If the seeds of my efforts successfully sprout… all the various powers, including the Peslir Kingdom, will be too busy defending against each other to properly invest forces into subjugating a new budding power such as ourselves.
“Although, truth be told, the situation was heading in this direction to begin with. I’m just giving it a bit of a push.”
Hearing this, Wren couldn’t help but shake his head. “You know, sometimes I can’t help but wonder how many steps ahead you think.”
“I usually try for just one in front of everyone else. Otherwise, my head begins to hurt, haha.”
“Well, when do you expect these seeds to sprout?”
“Hm… the time will be rather ironic.”
“Ironic? When would it be most ironic for war to... Ah, so, winter. Oh, wait a minute. Isn’t it almost winter? If we were to take Venite city this week, would the Peslir Kingdom be able to respond?”
“We should wait another week, just to be safe.”
“Got it.”
…
On the other side of the continent, Commander Moon stood atop the ramparts of a city, facing north.
In the distance, he could see hundreds of thousands of Armoan soldiers marching in file, headed in his direction.
“Oh, I get it. Be wary of the winter months…”
“...”
“ROJAN!!!”