50th of Season of Fire, 107th year of the 32nd cycle
Newt found himself in what most people could hardly imagine ever experiencing, and for the first time in a good way - a royal feast. And he wasn’t sitting just anywhere, no. He was at the king’s high table. The king sat in the middle, to his left Newt’s master, Gatemaster Greenthorn, to his right Maelstrom, and to her right, Newt.
Countless dishes lined the table - meats and fruits and vegetables, all drowned in a sea of pastries. An entire town could eat their fill, and there would be some left over. Mageknights, even at Newt’s and Maelstrom’s realm no longer needed to eat, let alone Patriarch Tidebreaker and Gatemaster Greenthorn.
Still, Newt sampled a few choice pieces, ignoring Maelstrom’s glare.
“You said that just to throw me out of balance didn’t you?” she grumbled.
He didn’t.
“I didn’t.” Newt smiled his most innocent smile, knowing full well it would make him look even more guilty and infuriate Maelstrom just a tad more. She had pulled his leg often enough during the Sage’s Realm tournament, it was time he got a bit of payback.
“You said your ancestor did it to win the coast from the saurians.”
She nodded, accepting Newt’s offered peace branch, and dropped the subject.
“Yes, that was Grandfather’s great-grandfather. Before he claimed the coast, the Tidebreaker kingdom was known as the northern wastes, and few people lived here. Conditions aren’t much better now, but there’s ample food from the ocean, and commoners have made their homes in hollowed glaciers to keep away from the worst of the weather. Awakened have done the initial work of creating the settlements, but over the centuries the commoners have expanded the original network. It’s quite surprising what people can do without magic when they set their minds to it.”
“Quite right, my dear granddaughter,” the Tidebreaker patriarch chose that moment to interrupt her. “And awakened need to learn from them. If common people without power and magic can achieve such feats, we should be able to work miracles.”
Gatemaster Greenthorn nodded, and the Maelstrom’s Grandfather continued speaking.
“And we will need to work some miracles, if we are to complete Her Imperial Majesty’s next imperial decree.”
His solemn voice got full attention from everyone seated at the high table, but the rest of the hall seemed oblivious of the ominous words.
“What is the decree?” Gatemaster Greenthorn asked.
“The imperial administration hasn’t announced it yet, it’s too early, but a number of forces, two of ours included, have been commanded to head to Summersweald in time for the next onslaught the summer kingdoms will face. The plan is to incite the onslaught the year it’s due if it doesn’t happen earlier, then to use an overwhelming power to crush the saurians and push deeper into the jungle.”
The old patriarch took a long sip of wine, and everyone waited patiently.
“Nominally, it’s to avenge our horrible losses from the previous onslaught. In reality, it could be a push to claim more territory for the empire, but I believe the emperor is wiser than that and that there’s more to her plan. The forces commanded to lead the charge are those that had survived the cults’ attacks, mixed with clans and orders whose loyalty to the imperial household doesn’t seem as unshakeable as it should be. On the surface, it’s to reward us for our success, since we will be getting the best and the most prizes of everyone involved.”
He stopped talking and gave Gatemaster Greenthorn a meaningful look.
“In reality, we will suffer the most casualties, and if we’re isolated in such areas, we’d be ripe for the cultists’ picking.”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
The Tidebreaker king nodded. “If it was me making this plan, I would have my most loyal forces ready to slaughter the cultists while the damn heretics busied themselves with their victims. The good thing is, the Swordpeaks are also getting drafted. They have grown in power the last couple of thousand years.” He didn’t say anything more, but there was no need.
Everyone knew the Swordpeaks and the Diamondsouls were getting close to being able to threaten the imperial authority. If the imperials forced the two forces into a dangerous, costly clash with the saurians, it would reduce their might while the imperial family could gain riches and territory.
Newt understood all that, what he didn’t understand was something else.
“Why us? I mean, the Explorer’s Gate. The Tidebreaker family is strong enough—”
“Newstar,” Gatemaster Greenthorn rebuked, but didn’t clarify why he used the tone. Instead, he explained in a calm voice. “The cultists have attacked us once. We were unprepared, but still we had our fortifications and magical defenses. In the jungle, we will be alert, but lack the defender’s advantage. If the cultists have failed to meet their goal the last time, they would use the war against saurians as a chance, since the emperor will have to issue the order years before the event, so the forces in question could prepare.”
Newt naturally understood, the Tidebreaker king had said the same thing just a moment ago. But even if they managed to exterminate all the cultists, the losses of those sandwiched between them and the saurians would be horrible. Then he realized the imperials didn’t care for others’ losses as long as the cultists perished while preserving the imperial faction’s strength.
Others at the table had grim faces. They were older, more experienced with politics, and they had made the same conclusions much faster.
“It will be a meat-grinder for sure,” Gatemaster Greenthorn said. “But those who survive it will grow tremendously, both in terms of wealth and in terms of experience.”
Newt wasn’t so sure. He recalled a certain snake absentmindedly doodling in solid rock, casually explaining how it would exterminate every human inside the castle.
Gingerly, he voiced his thoughts. “What if those dragons appear again? I don’t think they will let us conquer their home without a fight.”
“They certainly won’t,” Maelstrom’s Grandfather agreed. “But then again, this isn’t a conquest, but a punitive expedition. Should we manage to conquer some territory, all is great, but nobody expects us to. The imperial family had launched multiple bloody campaigns into the wealds. While they won territory once, the rest of their efforts ended in carnage and ruin.”
The king shook his head. “No, the saurians have their own games, and they prefer not to escalate conflict for no good reason. They will respond to an invading army with equal force. For them, we are resources to be devoured, much like they are to us.”
The king accented his words with a medallion so saturated with mana, Newt couldn’t tell its realm.
“An exalt doesn’t move to fight an eighth-realm master. The fight and refinement of energy is more expensive than just ignoring the enemy.”
Newt was slowly starting to understand what they were talking about. He had only recently learned that manarium had a maximum purity matching that of a seventh realm awakened. He asked his master what mageknights at eighth realm and beyond used for mana to expand their realms, but the man had smiled without offering a response.
“Which begs the question of why the dragons congregated and moved like a conflagration towards the empire.” Maelstrom snapped New out of his thoughts.
For a moment, he thought she was asking him, aware of something she shouldn’t be, but when he looked at her she found her staring at her grandfather.
“While they had invaded the empire, they apparently didn’t use any mana. Why would they? Their presence alone was enough to terrify anyone who saw them, making them easy pickings for their spawn.”
“Can’t you come with us, and scare them like you once scared frostwalkers?”
The king glanced at his granddaughter, for the first time a tinge of warmth entering his eye before being crushed a moment later. He shook his head.
“No. It would be an escalation, and nobody wants that. You could say it was our fault we didn’t have grandmasters ready along the border, but the imperial plan is to intrude deep into the jungle, meaning some ninth realm manabeasts might be near enough to react.”
Newt’s heart shuddered. If the plan was to make the attack during an onslaught, that would mean Magmin’s grandson would be somewhere in the vicinity. And remembering his terror, Newt could say the dragon was a one snake escalation.
“And what do we do if the dragons are there again?” Newt brought up the question nobody wanted to ask.
“They could appear anywhere along the border, and the force that meets them will experience a calamity.” Tidebreaker King looked at Newt. “The Swordpeaks, the Tidebreakers, and Explorer’s Gate will be stationed near where the dragons had appeared the last time, by the way.”
The old man gave him an ugly smile. “One could say that we will be privileged with the greatest odds of running into them.”
“What about the Swordpeaks?” Gatemaster Greenthorn asked. “Have you been in contact with them?”
Maelstrom’s grandfather nodded. “Their delegation should arrive tomorrow. As luck would have it, the person who introduced your ward and my granddaughter is their retainer and has asked for the chance to participate in the celebrations of their engagement.”

