"That’s right..."
Ethan nodded slowly, his tone calm and steady. "There’s an old saying—’How can one sleep soundly beneath another’s bed?’ For the Greenwave Empire, the coastal lands of the Sacred Continent—where the Holy Griffon Empire once stood—were essentially their vulnerable rear flank. If war ever broke out and they lost control of that rear, they’d be in serious danger."
"That’s why, back then, they stationed heavy forces along the border with the Holy Griffon Empire. They were terrified of a breach from behind."
He paused, his eyes glinting as he turned to Astharel with a faint smile. "So, Your Majesty... tell . Why don’t they do that anymore?"
Astharel’s face went pale. He lowered his voice and muttered, "Because the Eight Duchies are too weak..."
"Exactly."
Ethan nodded again, his gaze sharp. "The fall of the Holy Griffon Empire shattered it into eight duchies. On paper, their territory might look the sa, but in reality? They’re fragnted, disorganized, each one acting on its own, even fighting among themselves. That kind of internal strife eats away at their strength. Compared to the Holy Griffon Empire at its peak, they’re nothing."
"And that’s precisely why the collapse of the Holy Griffon Empire—and the rise of the Eight Duchies—was a blessing for the Greenwave Empire. It freed them. Gave them room to grow, to expand rapidly. And you—your Five Sea Kingdoms—were propped up by them as puppets. You replaced the heavy garrisons they once stationed along the coast. Now you guard the border for them... and keep an eye on the Eight Duchies."
Ethan’s gaze locked onto Astharel’s pale face. His voice was calm, but carried weight. "Tell , Your Majesty. Am I wrong?"
Astharel’s face shifted from pale to flushed, then back again. After a long silence, he finally let out a heavy sigh and nodded. "No... you’re not wrong."
But then he looked up, eyes sharp with defiance. "Still, Lord Valkarion, if that’s all you’ve got—then forgive , but it’s not enough to convince ."
Ethan didn’t flinch. His voice remained level, but the words he dropped next hit like a thunderclap.
"Then what if I told you... your Gemspire Kingdom is already facing an existential crisis?"
"...What?!"
"An existential crisis? That’s impossible!"
Both The Tidebreaker Paxton and King Astharel recoiled as if struck, their faces draining of color.
"Impossible? Why?" Ethan gave a cold smile, a hint of mockery in his tone as he turned to Paxton. "Paxton, let ask you—do you have any idea how brutal this current faction war has beco?"
He didn’t even wait for a response.
"Word is, Overlord-class powerhouses have already entered the fray—on the ocean alone. And that’s not even the main battlefield. The real war is happening on land."
He chuckled softly, then turned his gaze back to Paxton, whose pupils had shrunk, his face ghostly pale. Ethan’s smile deepened, tinged with sothing unreadable.
"Tell , Paxton... after this war is over, how many of the Eight Duchies do you think will still be standing?"
"Or will they all be wiped out?"
Thud!
Paxton shot to his feet, his whole body trembling. His face was bloodless, as if all the color had been drained from him.
For a long mont, he just stood there, staring at Ethan. Then, slowly, he turned to Astharel. His voice was low, but firm.
"Your Majesty... agree to his terms. We have no way out anymore."
Astharel froze.
"W-Why?"
A cold sweat broke out across his forehead as he stared at Paxton, completely bewildered.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Paxton—if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have brought only him to this eting.
But right now, he genuinely didn’t understand.
What were Ethan and Paxton talking about?
How had this conversation suddenly turned into a declaration that Gemspire Kingdom had no way out?
What the hell was going on?!
Seeing that Astharel still didn’t understand, The Tidebreaker Paxton quickly stepped in to explain.
"Your Majesty, with how intense this faction war has beco, if the Eight Duchies don’t want to just sit around and wait to die, they’ll have to change sothing."
"And judging by how brutal the fighting on land has gotten, even if they don’t want to change, the Castle faction backing them will force them to. And the most likely change... is ending the division. Reuniting into a single, massive empire."
The mont those words left his mouth, Astharel’s pupils shrank violently. He shot to his feet, staring at Paxton like he’d just been struck by lightning.
His whole body trembled.
"You’re saying... the Eight Duchies might reform the Holy Griffon Empire?!"
"It’s not might," Ethan cut in, eyes gleaming. "It’s almost a certainty. In a situation like this, if they’re still too stupid to band together, then they’re already dead. And I doubt the Castle faction would let them be that stupid."
"And once that happens—once they’ve fought side by side, bled together, and seen firsthand the power of a unified empire—do you really think any of those dukes will want to go back to ruling so tiny, insignificant duchy?"
"No. They’ll keep the empire going. Maybe it won’t be as powerful as the Holy Griffon Empire at its peak, but still—Astharel, do you really think the Greenwave Empire will just sit back and let a new empire rise in their rear flank?"
Astharel’s face went ghost-white. A chill ran through his entire body.
His voice trembled. "Of course not..."
"If the Holy Griffon Empire really does rise again, the Greenwave Empire will definitely redeploy their forces. They’ll fortify the Sacred Continent again. Maybe even... even go to war."
"Exactly." Ethan nodded, his tone calm but cutting, his eyes locked on Astharel with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "And when that happens, your Gemspire Kingdom—because of its location—will go from being the Greenwave Empire’s deep-sea gateway... to the front-line cannon fodder."
"And let’s be honest—do you really think the Greenwave Empire gives a damn about what happens to you? With your current strength, you’re not even worth their attention."
"So tell , Your Majesty Astharel..." Ethan leaned in slightly, voice low and deliberate. "Does that sound like an extinction-level crisis to you?"
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