The Storm King

Chapter 542: Nestor's Thought Experiment



Chapter 542: Nestor’s Thought Experiment

Leon had to admit as he walked through its streets that Kraterok was a beautiful city. Pleasant climate, beautiful beaches, and nice aesthetic of wood painted in solid, simple, and bright colors of all kinds. Many of these buildings in the more affluent neighborhoods also had quite inspired architectural designs. However, no building in the entire city exceeded four stories, and no more than a bare few were even lightly enchanted. Those that were enchanted were concentrated in a separated district further up the cliffs, closer to the Earl’s palace than the rest of the city.

That district, where the noble’s and any other elites of the city lived, was where Leon and his group were making their way. Following the battle, resistance elsewhere in the city was near nonexistent, so Leon had little worry about. He could see with his magic senses that the Legion marines were having no trouble at all pushing into the city, with most of the remaining Islanders remaining indoors and not interfering.

So, it didn’t take long for Leon and his squad to catch up to Sigebert and the leaders of the marines, who’d occupied one of the empty noble mansions while a few marine companies went on ahead to secure the remains of the Earl’s palace.

“Leon!” Sigebert called out as Leon and his squad were shown in. “Good timing, we were just finishing up here!”

The mansion was laid out in a fairly standard design by Bull Kingdom standards, with several wings all branching off a central peristyle courtyard, only smaller to account for the significantly less available space on the cliffs. A huge table had been set up in the center of that small courtyard, around which Sigebert and a dozen other Legion knights had gathered, with several dozen more Legion members rushing about making sure the occupation was properly organized.

“What’s the word?” Leon asked as Anzu leaped forward and began rolling around in the grass of the courtyard. Leon himself had gone over to the table with Gaius, Marcus, and Alcander, while Alix and Maia both held back.

“The city is ours,” Sigebert happily exclaimed. “We took some losses, but they were fairly light all things considered, and with the fall of Kraterok, there’s no longer any place on this island that can resist us. For all intents and purposes, we’ve taken the entire island.”

“It can’t be that simple, though,” Leon observed as he glanced at some of the worried and utterly serious faces of the Legion knights.

“Few things rarely are,” Sigebert admitted. “However, with the city’s current state, it shouldn’t be too difficult to set things right. We need to re-establish order and set up a provisional authority, while also leaving a garrison to keep the peace. That’s going to take a lot of work and figuring out just how much of the island’s old power structure remains.”

Leon nodded. “Sounds like it’s going to be a hell of a challenge.”

“It will be,” Sigebert said with a strange amount of cheer. “Personally, I’m extremely happy that I’m not the one who’s going to be doing it! You and I are to focus on finding Prince Octavius. It doesn’t look like the Prince is here, so we’ll be conducting patrols and scouting missions to see if he’s been hidden away somewhere on the island—”

“Ah, don’t bother with that!” shouted a voice from the entrance of the mansion, drawing everyone’s attention.

Walking over, being led over by a fifth-tier Legion knight, were a small handful of Islanders, all dressed in plain white that revealed quite of a bit of their tanned skin. Leon knew that the man in front was obviously the one who’d spoken, if only because he was the only person among them who didn’t looked particularly cowed of nervous.

His strange confidence was remarkable to Leon, immediately marking him as someone he ought to remember. He wasn’t overly attractive, but the confident swagger he walked with had a certain charm. Other than that, his facial features were rather plain, as was his brown hair and eyes. Emanating from his body was what Leon identified as fifth-tier power, though there were a few oddities that Leon could detect, some slight wavering and, for lack of a better term, ‘cloudiness’ in the man’s aura that he couldn’t identify.

“And who are you?” Sigebert loudly asked, his eyebrows rising as his smile died, a sure sign in Leon’s eyes that he was throwing up mental defenses and wasn’t going to give the Islanders the same warm greeting that Leon had received.

“You may call me Turiel,” the man said with a smirk and pat on his chest. “These people with me are essentially all those of the city’s elite that remain following this bit of… misunderstanding.”

“Calling what just happened these past few hours a ‘misunderstanding’ is almost insulting,” one of the nearby Legion knight said.

Turiel simply glanced at him and said, “I mean no disrespect by it, I’m sure all of you knew exactly what you were doing and why. The misunderstanding was more on the side of my people than yours, I’d say. They were duped and misled by that pirate who came through here a couple months ago.”

“So, then, am I to assume that you’ve come here to share information with us, if that’s your attitude?” Sigebert skeptically asked.

“Assume what you will, I won’t stop you,” Turiel replied. “If you were to make that assumption, though, I would like to prove you right. I hold no love for this pirate and would love to see things return to normal around here.”

“Eh, sounds more like you’re currying favor and angling to be named the next Earl,” another knight whispered, though not nearly quietly enough for anyone to mishear.

“Maybe I am,” Turiel admitted with a good-natured smile and without a shred of hesitance, “in which case would it not be incumbent upon myself to make myself useful and to be as honest as I can? How would it look if the Bull King were to know that I misled his representatives? He would certainly not look too kindly upon me, and likely deny me the Earldom.”

Sigebert just dismissively waved, though at no one in particular. “Just forget about that. If you’ve come here with information, then out with it.”

“Very well,” Turiel responded, Sigebert’s curt reply apparently not fazing him at all.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Turiel narrated the events of the past few years or so, from the Earl’s initial small rebellion in not paying the Bull Kingdom the agreed-upon tribute, to when the previous Bull fleet had arrived and began securing the island, when the pirates came and lured the fleet away, and when those pirates came back.

They were led by a man named Jormun, the son of the last Islander Jarl and only survivor from the destruction of the Serpent’s Rattle, the final island in the Serpentine Isle chain. From the way Turiel spoke of Jormun, Leon guessed that the man was fairly well-known in the Isles, though he didn’t go into too much detail. Continuing, Turiel described how Jormun had called all the elites of the city together to convince them to work with him, to name him the ‘Pirate Lord’ of their Islands or something in order to throw off the yoke of the Bull Kingdom. The Earl of Kraterok had vacillated, only for the pirates to bring the Bull fleet back—apparently smaller then, and the remnants partially damaged—and utterly ruin it within and just without the city’s bay.

By then, however, the violent and petulant—in Turiel’s own words—Jormun had the city sacked and the Earl murdered, then took direct control over the island, with few objections. He left not long after, only to return a couple months later with Prince Octavius in tow. The Prince was alive and in good health the last Turiel had seen him, but Jormun hadn’t stayed long in the city. He’d taken the Prince further into the Isles, further down the chain.

“Do you know which of the Isles the Prince was taken to?” Sigebert asked.

“I do not,” Turiel clarified. “I was not the most… enthusiastic supporter of Jormun’s, so I was never made privy to that information, or invited to many gatherings with the Prince in attendance. However, word does spread around here, so I know that he was taken on.”

Leon then stepped forward and asked, “Do you know why the Prince was taken? It seems strange to me to kidnap a Prince mere hours before he was to be executed, only to then bring him back here where he doesn’t seem at all useful. Why would Jormun do this? Is he trying to take over here as a new King and use Prince Octavius as a hostage? For leverage? Is he trying to make a statement about his power?”

“Again, I can’t say, though I imagine that for a man like that, seizing power and making statements does sound like a significant motivating factor,” Turiel replied. “I have, however, heard some pretty terrible rumors about Jormun. Things like performing profane blood rituals in hidden corners of the world, rituals that require the blood of those who possess Inherited Bloodlines.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. That sounded almost demonic in nature. ‘Could this have something to do with Amon? Or maybe some other demon that’s roaming around this plane?’ he wondered.

“Describe these rituals,” he demanded.

“I’ve not seen them personally, all I’ve heard are rumors,” Turiel replied.

“Then describe these rumors,” Leon pressed as he took another step toward the Islander, his voice dropping to a dangerous pitch.

Turiel, however, seemed utterly unperturbed. “I’ve heard a few, and they’re hardly consistent. I heard a rumor that Jormun spends his days kidnapping those with Inherited Bloodlines, sacrificing them on bloody altars to dark gods, and then violates the corpses. I’ve heard rumors that the man has traveled all over the world, adding those of such descent—both male and female—to his personal harem, ‘sacrificing’ their virginities as a way to express his power over them. I’ve heard that he raids cities specifically to seize these people, for their blood is sufficiently powerful enough to open the locks sealing away some long forgotten beast. To be honest, I’ve not put much stock in such rumors, myself, but if I had to guess, I’d say that the latter is most accurate.”

“You think he’s working to unleash some long-forgotten beast?” Leon asked completely seriously, though Turiel seemed to take it as a mocking joke.

“Oh, heaven’s no!” he replied, reeling back as if Leon had just given voice to something profoundly ridiculous. “As I said, I put no stock in such rumors. As far as I’m concerned, Jormun is but a power hungry pirate looking to take control of his homeland by exploiting the Bull Kingdom’s current apparent weakness.”

“That still hardly explains why Jormun took Octavius,” Sigebert observed.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Turiel agreed. “Truth be told, I don’t really know why Jormun did what he did. Seems kind of foolish, to be honest, for all it did was provoke the Bull Kingdom into coming back here earlier than it might’ve otherwise planned. Still, Jormun did quite well for himself, destroying that previous fleet. If nothing else, you might want to keep yourself from getting too complacent.”

“Whoever said we were going to get complacent?” Sigebert asked. “If anything, we’ll be incredibly careful going forward to avoid being surprised by any other Flame Lances Jormun may have stolen.”

“I wish you luck in the battles to come, then,” Turiel said, his smile, unchanging upon his face, now seeming almost mocking and pitying with the way the conversation had gone.

Sigebert and Turiel then began speaking more about the situation in Kraterok, specifically, and how some semblance of order might be restored that would leave the fleets free to move on. Leon didn’t pay much attention, too disturbed as he was by what Turiel had revealed. Even as the other fleet Legates arrived to join the meeting, Leon was too busy thinking about just why Jormun had seized Octavius. There had to be some reason, and Octavius’ awakened blood was as good a reason as any that Leon could see.

[Hey Nestor, Xaphan,] Leon whispered into his soul realm, quickly relaying to both what Turiel had just said. [… Can either of you think of any rituals or uses that fit this description? I honestly can’t fathom why this pirate would do such a thing without at least the possibility of significant reward…]

[There are many reasons why someone might want the blood of an Inherited Bloodline,] Nestor said, surprising Leon exactly not at all that he knew of some.

[Indeed,] Xaphan agreed, though he didn’t sound happy about it. [There’s more power in awakened blood like yours than there is in regular human blood. There are many demons I know of that will bestow great gifts upon someone who can procure a descendent of an Ascended Beast for them, let alone someone like you, who has the blood of both an Ascended Beast and a Divine Beast.]

[I’d agree with the demon, kid, stay away from this pirate if possible,] Nestor added. [It’s entirely possible that something is seeking power and speaking to this pirate to manipulate him into providing that power. Though, I can’t imagine why he’d need awakened blood, specifically, regular human mana ought to be sufficient for just about any use, so long as the quantity is high.

[However, remember that this is the Divine Graveyard. This plane is one of the oldest in the universe, and I’m sure the secrets buried here are beyond counting. Maybe this pirate has stumbled onto something.]

[Thanks,] Leon said, only partially meaning it. All they’d told him was that what Turiel had alleged was possible, but he supposed asking for any more specific information from them wasn’t entirely reasonable. They didn’t necessarily have the in-depth knowledge of the plane that was needed to make a more concrete statement. [Is there any way I might be able to detect what he’s doing? I don’t know, like if there’s something sealed away here, would some kind of enchantment be able to detect it?]

[Not likely,] Nestor replied. [It’s standard that prisons are warded against possible divination. It wouldn’t be an entirely secure prison if they could be so easily found.]

[Right,] Leon replied.

He didn’t say anything more over the next few minutes, lost as he was in pointless speculation over Jormun’s motives. Nestor, however wasn’t quite done with him, and after taking those few minutes to listen in on the conversation with the Legion knights and the Islanders, he broke that silence.

[I have a wonder, Leon, if you would indulge it?]

[What is it?] Leon asked, trying and failing to keep the irritation out of his voice.

If he picked up on it, it didn’t deter him at all, for Nestor immediately asked, [How would you handle the situation here on this island?]

Leon rapidly blinked, unsure as he was as to why Nestor was even asking. [Uhh. What do you mean?]

[Listen, boy. The fate of our entire line rests on your shoulders. The disinterest you show in things like these shouldn’t be encouraged, and I will not encourage them. So, let’s set the scene, shall we? You have just arrived in the Nexus and made your first conquest. It was a smashing success, you took a few casualties, but the enemy was shattered and their lands were left relatively depopulated—enough that they are no longer a threat to your power. Some of the remaining elites have approached you to formally surrender, speaking at length over their loyalty and how much they wished for our Clan to return and bring peace back to the Storm Kingdom. In other words, this is exactly the situation that you face right now, and that you might face in the Nexus. How would you respond?]

Leon, still a little surprised at the sudden questioning, replied with an uninspired, [… Um… I’m not sure.]

[Then why don’t we work these things out? No better time than the present, is there? Not like you’re contributing much to their conversation, anyway, and it’ll be a better use of your time than speculating after the motives of some pirate covered in more gull shit than sense. So, let’s get a little bit more specific for this scenario. This particular people—for the sake of better synergy, let’s call this place a small city much like this one, not too strong, and a small population—has been a thorn in the side of the Storm Kings for millions of years, raiding and pillaging our lands when our attention was elsewhere. They were eventually conquered, but only relatively recently, let’s say a few thousand years before the fall of the Clan. Now that your reconquest—or conquest, I know you want your new thing to be different than the old Clan—has begun, how do you deal with these people?]

[That would depend on the resources I have available, I suppose,] Leon replied. [How much do I have? Is it just me and a few friends, or do I have the armies of a Kingdom behind me, as the Bull does now? What I do and do not have would affect my answer.]

[How so?]

[If I have more resources, I suppose there would be merit in razing the city and settling the people elsewhere. If they’re an unruly population, separate them and spread them around.]

[Not a bad decision, and one certainly popular in history,] Nestor said appreciatively. [Expensive, though, and you certainly wouldn’t be making any friends out of that people. If you do that too much, you’d face more rebellions as various people allied with each other against you, but if done sparingly, then it might work well enough. What about if you had fewer resources?]

Leon sighed in thought as his eyes wandered around the courtyard, not looking at anything in particular. [I suppose I would try this first and leave mass deportation and resettlement for emergency measures if other strategies fail. I wouldn’t want to kill them all, I should think. There would probably be a reason for that city to exist, I’d imagine: some resource that it produces that has at least some value. So simply destroying the city would be out of the question… unless that city is completely unmanageable. I suppose that would leave only trying to work with the city’s people to support me. Empower some of the remaining elites in return for them supporting me.]

That was essentially what the Bull Kingdom was doing here, Leon saw. Already, Basina, Theuderic, and Sigebert were treating Turiel as the de facto Earl of Kraterok, though it wasn’t hard to see why. The man was talkative while the other Islanders he brought with hadn’t said so much as a single word since their arrival. He was also being quite supportive, furnishing the Legates with all the information they needed about the island seemingly without restraint, such as where the most important settlements were and where Jormun might be hiding on the other islands. He was especially helpful in pointing to the locations of hidden caves around the city where more rebellious Islanders might be hiding, just waiting to continue resisting the Bull Kingdom.

[That would depend on finding someone you could trust to take the reins,] Nestor replied. [There have been many tyrants installed in power across the Nexus throughout its history, and it was rare for them to work out all that well. You see, all it usually does is bring someone unpopular into power while not doing anything to solve the underlying issue of a rebellious populace. You don’t want to have to come back to that city after only a few years because your pet tyrant was deposed and the people are back to rebelling against your rule.]

[There are ways to install power structures other than bringing a tyrant to power,] Leon said. [There could be some kind of massive show of support for their people, announcing a degree of autonomy for them while also showing respect for their dead. Maybe give out gifts as needed.]

[Good,] Nestor said. [Keep thinking of things like that. I’d wager that there’ll be more than a few states like this island that you’ll have to deal with, and there won’t be a single solution that you’ll be able to fall back on every time. If you want your rule to last, you have to think about things like these: how you’ll treat conquered peoples, how you’ll deal with rebels, how you’ll make your will known throughout your lands. One man can’t rule alone, no matter how powerful he is.]

[I understand…] Leon replied, feeling a little condescended to, but also having enough self-awareness to know that Nestor was completely right. He’d always known ever since he’d first heard about it that he’d eventually go to the Nexus, but the prospect of how he’d build his Clan, how tied he wanted it to be to the Thunderbird legacy there, and how he might go about expansion he’d rarely thought too in-depth about.

As much as he wanted to petulantly snipe back at Nestor that he would figure it all out himself when he got there, he knew that that would only set him up for failure. It was better to get in some experience now while it wasn’t his family at stake than trying to figure it out on the fly.

With some reluctance, Leon turned his attention back to the meeting, and he felt Nestor’s attention slip back down into his soul realm.

As much as he hated that man, Leon had to admit that he knew his shit, and he found himself feeling almost as grateful for this brief thought experiment as the for the lessons in enchanting.


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