Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1609: Marshal

”...You just declared the rebuilding of your empire and the restoration of what is rightfully yours only hours ago!!”

”That was nothing but a political cover for the next step,” Renara nodded calmly, her tone steady. ”What unfolds behind the curtain —the web of alliances secretly woven to destroy us— remains hidden from my lay people. They are blind to the maneuvering in the shadows. But I am not. And after that speech before my citizens, I made it appear as though I were ready to march forward without hesitation, that nothing could stand in my path.”

”...When the time comes for me to announce that I am joining you, under the crushing pressure we face from our enemies that will soon start to appear, my people will not think of me as a traitor, but as someone forced by circumstance, someone sacrificing her crown to protect them. And so, they will merge with the Cradle Empire willingly, with hearts at peace, rather than bitter and resentful as if dragged in chains.”

”...And what of those who do know the truth? What of the Five Hall Masters?” Caesar leaned back, settling into his seat once more, his voice probing.

”We spoke after the military parade,” Renara replied, a faint smile curling her lips. ”Every one of them accepted my vision. They told me it was the only path left. Had I revealed my decision before the military parade, they would have rejected it outright, they would have risen against me again, and I would have lost the last of my followers forever. But fear... fear changed everything. With only a few subtle hints from me, they were the ones who began urging me to join you. They even tried to persuade me themselves!”

”...Did you do this with the Planetary Emperor of the Pink Bulls as well—just to secure the approval of the Hall Masters and the elder council for our union?” Caesar’s brows furrowed sharply.

Renara smiled knowingly. ”Of course— under a few conditions.”

”...I don’t understand you,” Caesar muttered, his brows still drawn tight. ”Wouldn’t it have been far easier to accept my offer from the beginning? Why go through all this elaborate struggle?”

”And you think the other Five Hall Masters would not have noticed that I was secretly working for you?” she asked, her voice firm. ”Imagine the hypocrisy: accusing my sister of treachery, calling her a servant of an outside force, while I myself served in the exact same way. How long would that have lasted? Even if I won a shallow political victory—removing my rivals with your gold and your power, perhaps even replacing four elders with men of my own choosing—do you think I would have gained true control over the Nine Paths Empire?” She shook her head slowly. ”Never.”

”...They would always see you as the master and me as the subordinate. The empire would exist in name only. The Nine Hall Masters would crawl back to you with schemes, one after another, seeking your favor over mine. Then they would turn those schemes against each other. And of course, you would welcome such chaos, so long as it ensured we remained bound as your subjects forever.”

Renara lifted her head, her eyes cold but resolute. ”I despise such games. I despise conspiracies. I did not endure the manipulations of the four elders and the betrayal of my beloved sister only to fall into the same pit within the Cradle Empire. I am exhausted. Either I join you fully, without masks or half-measures, or not at all.”

”...And here I stand.” She opened her hands slowly, as if offering the weight of thirty years in her palms. ”Three long decades, spent gathering enough public trust and political stability to make this step possible. All of it was so that my people would not be torn apart by endless internal feuds, so that I would not be consumed by the filth of rule I was never meant to carry. If you accept me, my people will live under your protection. If you refuse...” Her voice dropped lower, bitter and resigned, ”...then my people will simply follow the fate that was written for them long ago—into the abyss.”

”You...” Caesar’s brows knotted again. He lowered his gaze to the ground at his feet, words escaping him for several moments. At last, he exhaled heavily and raised his head again. ”A moment ago you mentioned conditions. Tell me what they are, one by one, before I decide.”

”We’re left with only twenty-three planets,” Renara said, each word deliberate as if she counted losses on her tongue. ”They will be absorbed under the banner of the Cradle Empire, but under no circumstances will we tolerate the displacement of our people from any of those worlds or the confiscation of their lands. After the loss of roughly seventy other worlds and the arrival of countless refugees, those twenty-three barely suffice to feed and shelter what remains of our population.”

She raised a finger to mark the gravity of the claim. ”We will permit citizens of the Cradle Empire to migrate to our territories, to open shops, to build lives—but not for at least a century. My people must learn, slowly, that they are part of a greater polity; otherwise, the backlash will be catastrophic.”

”That’s sensible. I have no objection to that,” Caesar answered after a measured beat, his nod signaling an easier first item to accommodate. He leaned forward a fraction, eyes wary. ”And the next condition?”

”You will treat my people as a distinct branch within your empire,” Renara said, lifting a second finger. ”Any request to the Kiyomaji must come first through me. If I am unavailable, it shall pass through the nine new Hall Masters I will appoint. Orders affecting my race and our lands will be routed through our chain. We will administer those affairs in our manner.”

She added with quiet intensity, ”Our people carry a history seven million years long. They will never accept humans or other races arrogating the right to issue commands over them.”

Caesar tapped the armrest, the sound small in the vast room. His brows drew together, not in immediate refusal but in caution. He knew similar arrangements existed—the Deivosians, Dorgrians and other races under the True Beginning Empire maintained comparable autonomies—so this was not unheard of. Still, the practicalities troubled him: communication, command, unity of effort in wartime.

”What is your third condition?” he asked.

”Protection and active support,” Renara answered, and the briefness of the phrase contained a world. She let out a slow breath, one that carried both petition and pledge. ”I want your solemn promise to defend the Kiyomaji poeple and to mobilize on our behalf should we face assault. Moreover, I want the Cradle Empire’s backing so I may continue to pursue my vengeance.”

Caesar’s face tightened as he considered the request. ”The first part is straightforward; those planets will fly the Cradle banner,” he said, waving a hand almost reflexively. ”They will be under our protection.” Then, the hesitation crept in. ”But supporting your campaign of vengeance—what exactly do you ask of us?”

Renara’s gaze lifted to meet his. ”I know the problem you face, or rather the problem of the Cradle Empire itself,” she said plainly. ”You lack a spearhead—an instrument capable of breaking the enemy’s lines and striking where they are most vulnerable. I offer to be that spearhead.” She tapped her breast with a single, calm motion. ”With me operating within the leased Nexus States, amid the innumerable World Cataclysms stirring across the Nine Paths and the Cradle Empire, and with our combined armies arrayed behind us, who in this starfield could realistically stand in our way?”

Caesar let those words sit, counting the logic and danger alike. ”Do not forget,” he said finally, ”the Nine Paths Empire fights on more than seven fronts. Our internal fractures are what weakened us and brought us to this ignoble spectacle. Yet if our forces were consolidated—if we stopped bleeding ourselves with internecine conflict—then why not strike back? Did your father not order expansion? Did he not push for more worlds under our banner? Why be afraid? Together, with unified armies, we might sweep this starfield.”

Renara’s eyes shone with something like a blade: hunger for retribution, not mere ambition. Caesar held her gaze longer than he had any right to, searching the woman she had become. ”What has happened to you?” he murmured, almost to himself. ”You are not the same as before.”

She did not flinch. ”So, will you accept us, Caesar?” she asked, the single question blunt and unavoidable. ”These are my terms. Accept them, and within a month I will throw open Azakra’s vault and formally place my people under your flag. Refuse, and I will take my case elsewhere.”

For a long moment Caesar closed his eyes and exhaled, allowing the tension in his shoulders to drop. Then, with a dry, almost incredulous smile that carried more weariness than triumph, he opened his eyes and said, ”From this day forward—call me Marshal Caesar.”