Tyrant of the Ruined Sun

Chapter 231: Ruthlessness and the Mound of Mortal Champions

"Brother... Why?!"

Those were the first words that shattered the silence, as we all beheld Argus quietly sauntering out of the camp, the smile upon his face unchanging despite the seeming heaviness of his previously light steps.

"Why would you demand such a condition?!" The same voice echoed out again, as I turned to behold my anxious brother’s emerald eyes. "Why would you gamble so much, your very life, for the opportunity to kill just one man?!"

I did not immediately answer, but instead continued to comb my fingers through Bellerophon’s ashen fur, as I carefully swept my gaze across all those around me.

’Of course they wouldn’t understand.’ I thought. ’How could they? Even if I told them that in these lands lay men with the latent potential, harboured ambition and the sheer, unrelenting grit to raise the fifth great empire of the world; and that if left to their own devices, even if they were significantly weakened, would still resolutely plough through the thorned road to achieve their aims. How could they understand that only through the severing of this one bloodline could our empire truly rule over the Murathicus lands without a shred of fear? How could they know that even four years ago, when I first began this long campaign, I had always planned to eviscerate this family from the face of the earth? Even if it slightly risky, I simply can’t let such a golden opportunity pass by me.’

"Because it must be done." I calmly answered, looking back to my black haired brother.

"But why?!" Nizam demanded again, taking another step towards me, his arms spread wide in agitation. "Why like this?! And why must you put your life on the line for it?! When you know full well that our army with you at the helm could take them, even if that Argus said he could make a difference, it would be negligible with everyone here! I mean for the sake of the Gods, we could just summon, lord Valdour, my master lord Hekan, or even his excellency the Archpriest and they would never stand a chance!"

I had never before heard Nizam speak in such a manner, and for a moment I felt both appreciative and slightly out of place, for not for a very long time, not since I first went to war four years ago and my mother hysterically demanded I stay, has anyone feared for my safety in such a visceral manner.

"Yes we could do that." I answered him a moment later. "And they must know it too, considering Argus’ origins, which is most definitely why they wanted to end it all with a duel..." Yet before I could continue he suddenly cut me off.

"So why...?!" But before he could go off on another rant, he himself was now unexpectedly interrupted.

"Brother! Would you stop lecturing our brother like he is some toddler?!" Cyrus called out, almost angrily. "He will clearly win without issue."

"You idiot!" Nizam snapped back. "They obviously chose this method because whoever their patriarch is, he must believe his chances of defeating our brother to be fairly high, or at least higher than facing us in the field, and as brother himself said, that man wants to keep his armies as intact as possible, so why are we indulging him so?!"

"And if I may add," For the first time in this meeting, Tessiphina’s voice broke through the clamour. "even in the far north, the Ober-Rath Clan is famed for it’s wealth and power, considered one of the greatest of the Great Clans, and it’s current patriarch, though only a man in his early forties, is considered by many to be the greatest genius to be produced in our lands in the last several hundred years."

Cyrus merely scoffed derisively in reply.

"Brother is considered the greatest genius to be born in untold millennia across the whole of the world, not just this isolated place; and if he thinks that he has a higher chance besting our brother alone than with his army, then he is the biggest fool to be born in your lands in centuries." Cyrus instantly retorted, his argument based on blind faith rather than logic, which only seemed to infuriate Nizam even more.

"My prince, it is not so simple..." Horus tried to interject then, but he too was stopped.

"How is it not so simple?" Demanded Hasdrubal. "If any here were to object, I’d thought you would be the last, considering how much time you’ve spent at our liege’s side." He mercilessly chided with a frown, before he then mellowed out his voice and asked. "Our master is not blind to the risks and yet he chose this path, meaning our lord will simply claim the neck of that overconfident dog and all will be well. There is no need to fret, for our liege has never once given us reason to do so, so why are we now?"

"Because it is different this time! It is single combat, none of us can offer him our help, should he..." Horus quickly began his argument, but I was done seeing my greatest commanders and closest members of my inner circle divide themselves into opposing camps.

"That is enough!" I roared, silencing them, as even Bellerophon yanked up his head from my lap. "Listen here and listen well, I hear your arguments and I understand your logic, but my desire in accepting their challenge is not simply the triumph of a single battle or to simply satisfy my ego with recklessness, and I most certainly don’t care what sort of genius he is; I don’t even have any interest in any of their lands for now; after all, if you all remember, our campaign’s objectives this time around were only the capture of the Middle lands, so that we may slowly devour them, just like we did previously with the Northlands." I paused for a moment, raking my eyes across them all for a moment, before I then calmly stated. "No gentlemen and lady, what I most desire from this outwardly inefficient and frankly foolhardy choice, is to secure victory for every war that ever follows in the future."

Silence again came after my words, as everyone slowly mulled them over.

"And all that can be achieved with the death of the supposedly heirless patriarch of the Ober-Rath clan? With the severing of the God of Prosperity’s bloodline?" Hamilcar queried a moment later, his eyes fixed upon me.

"Yes Grand Marshal." I confidently answered, but his words did enlighten me to a couple of details, I had yet to consider. One, if Argus had indeed been lying to me, and his master had already produced his heir and was merely keeping him hidden, a fairly common thing to do in such trying times. Two, what his divine ancestor’s boon to him was, and if he’d found it.

’So few in the world had actually found their ancestor’s gifts by now, that I was beginning to have to remind myself of their existence recently; a grave error.’ I thought self-reproachfully

"And such extreme ruthlessness that wishes the extermination of a sacred god’s chosen bloodline, that also simultaneously extends it’s claws all the way to even threaten your own self and life, as well as your legacy and the legacy of all forefathers? Why?" He asked again, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Because such extreme ruthlessness is what the hour demands." I asserted. "This will be the best chance to rid ourselves of that troublesome house’s presence, for if we simply fight them on the field as ordinary and win, they could simply flee, and if we then advance and take their cities, their fortresses and their holdings, then we again have no guarantee of their neutralization. Only this way, can we be sure they are forever gone."

"...Though I do not understand your reasons for wanting the end of their house so vehemently, I have never known you to make a wrongfooted step, so I will simply satisfy myself with the decision to trust in your judgement once again." He said a moment later, reclining back into his chair.

With these words from him, all other talks of the matter seized, though Nizam seemed particularly upset with me for the next few days, as we began our trek across the seventy leagues Argus mentioned to Dushlan Hill, though in all honesty I couldn’t fully understand why my brother was so uncharacteristically furious with me.

Even when I asked, or I sent others to try and decipher the cause, he would instantly clam up when the issue was raised, I eventually decided to leave him be for a while, hoping he’d slowly cool off eventually. Something that appeared to be working until the awaited report finally came from Isaac.

Despite my confidence in my own power and skill, as well as the memories of victory against them that would undoubtedly aid me even more now, a slight worry was still burning dimly in my heart, like a stack of coal in the dead of a night, and that concern stemmed from the fact that I was uncertain if the man I am to face is the same one I battled against in my memories.

For despite him being very young in comparison to the rest of the powers of the world, he was still far older than the generation the gods deemed worthy to end this game, so I during the ten day march to our destination, I commanded Isaac and his Shade Corps to make fact of all the rumours relevant to the coming duel.

Information that arrived to my hands on the eighth day of our march, as I calmly read it’s contents to the audience of my brothers and my most loyal of retainers.

Name: Eviduir the Nineteenth

Status: Patriarch of the Ober-Rath Clan

Personality Type: Generous, Hot headed, Vindictive, Gregarious, Decisive, Confident, Proud and not easy to miss a slight.

Weapon of Choice: Quarter staff

Armour: Prefers light to medium armour

Confirmed Level of Strength: Third to Fourth Rank Martial arts

Fourth Divine Gate Unlocked

Preferred Fighting Style: Extreme Aggression. Dislikes Prolonged battles.

These news came as very much ill tidings to those such as my brother Nizam, who now grew even more solemn as he beheld his strength at the fourth gate, while I was merely at the third.

And though I remained fairly confident despite that, I also felt greater apprehension, as I now understood where his confidence stemmed from to so blatantly challenge me.

These thoughts continued to circle my mind for the next two days, until they were finally disrupted by Barrafin’s voice, proclaiming "There it is sire, Dushlan Hill, the Mound of Mortal Champions."