(anwhile, The Eternal Garden, Kaelith's POV)
Now that his self-imposed ninety-day mourning period had finally co to an end, Kaelith stood before the tombstones of Soron and Raymond, reflecting on how profoundly the universal order had shifted over the past three months and how those changes would reshape the ambitions he intended to pursue in the years ahead.
Revenge against the Cult remained at the forefront of his mind, yet he no longer viewed it through the lens of raw emotion, but rather through cold calculation, carefully weighing whether it could be executed in a manner that was decisive and controlled rather than reckless or impulsive.
The Universal Governnt had crumbled, and with its fall the once-cohesive Universal Army had fractured beyond recognition, leaving behind under his nominal authority not a disciplined war machine, but a scattered and diluted force stripped of its forr unity.
A few billion troops still acknowledged his command in principle, yet they were dispersed across splintered jurisdictions, tied to him more by institutional inertia than genuine allegiance, and deprived of the logistical infrastructure that had once transford them into an overwhelming presence.
Kaelith understood better than anyone that a legion divided was no legion at all, and for that reason, even the forces that nominally remained under his command were not ones that he considered to be particularly dependable.
*Sigh*
Kaelith exhaled slowly, the asured breath carrying neither grief nor frustration, but the quiet acceptance of a strategist reassessing the board before making his next move, as he realized that without the
machinery of unified governance, he had no blunt instrunt to wield against the Cult.
He could not order his forces to recapture Cult planets.
Nor could he block their trade routes or harass their fleets while they travelled through the universe.
Hell, he could not even isolate the Cult diplomatically anymore, as such was the loss of his influence in universal governance.
The old levers of pressure were gone, and what remained was raw influence, which was far more volatile and far less predictable.
"I own less and less pieces by the day..."
Kaelith assessed, as he thought about how Clarence and Terrence had defected as well, as after the fall of the Universal Governnt, the duo had chosen to swear allegiance to Mauriss rather than him. *Clench*
Kaelith's jaw tightened as his thoughts shifted toward the Cult next.
In recent months, rumors had spread swiftly through trade networks and political corridors alike, suggesting that the Dragon King Moltherak now stood behind Leo Skyshard and the Cult in more ways than re convenience.
As what had begun as whispers among rchant guilds, seed to now have matured into a widely accepted assumption that any strike against the Cult would be interpreted as an indirect challenge to the Dragon Dominion itself, as the implication was clear and deliberate. That even if Moltherak did not intervene imdiately, the Dragon King would avenge them in ti.
As it was that possibility alone, that introduced hesitation among several Great Clans who might otherwise have tested the Cult's rising
strength.
However, what unsettled Kaelith was not the rumor itself, but the speed with which it had hardened into belief.
Assumptions, once repeated often enough in the right circles, beca strategic realities, and as of today, it seed enough people
believed in the Dragon-Cult alliance to make it a reality.
"Damn it.... If there's one being i do not wish to face alone, it's that
damn old Dragon."
Kaelith muttered, as he thought about how he had no intention of fighting against Moltherak alone at this stage.
The Dragon King had returned with montum and clarity, expanding his dominion with deliberate precision rather than reckless aggression.
And Kaelith understood that engaging him prematurely would most definitely prove counter productive.
*Click*
Clicking his tongue, he hence shifted his gaze from the tombstones toward the distant horizon of the Garden, where filtered light fell softly through ancient trees, serene in contrast to the turbulence
beyond.
Kaelith knew he could not move against Leo Skyshard and the Cult without accounting for that dragon variable first.
And that constraint irritated him more than open opposition ever
could.
"It seems I have little choice," he murmured quietly.
In the ever-shifting ga of universal politics, revenge required infrastructure.
If he intended to crush the Cult and make Leo answer for what had transpired, he first needed a foundation strong enough to absorb retaliation.
A single backer would suffice.
One Great Clan.
One God.
One power willing to stand publicly beside him, whether out of
shared interest or calculated opportunism.
As with even one aligned force, the equation would change.
While without one, he risked isolation.
*Clench*
Kaelith's expression hardened as he reached his conclusion.
"Mauriss.... I need to reach out to Mauriss."
He muttered, as even though unpredictable, Mauriss currently was
the strongest ally to have in the ga of universal politics, with Clarence and Terrence under his fold.
'If only that devil temporarily decides to ally with while I destroy the Cult, it would be enough!
Kaelith thought, as he let the mourning period settle fully behind him.
One way or another, he did intend to destroy the Cult as soon as he could.
However, he was not reckless enough to do it without calculating the costs attached.
For now, if the rumors about the Dragon Alliance was true, then he did not want to draw Moltherak's ire without having any ally to fall
back on.
However, once he secured the aid of even a single ally, he swore to fly out to Ixtal and destroy it at once.
As he swore to capture Leo Skyshard and his entire family, and
torture them for centuries on end for the cri of killing his son
Raymond so cruelly back on 'The Pit!
"Count your days, Skyshard.
You have taken from sothing I treasured a lot, and very soon, I
will be standing over the ruins of everything you have built, so that you finally understand the cost of crossing ."
User Comments
0 comments from readers