“Pathetic, all of you!” Emperor Haidar Batra snarled as he gazed down on his high officers. The generals and their staff each knelt on a single knee, their heads bowed before him in shame, but that wasn’t good enough for Haidar. He wanted them to sweat, to tremble, to feel his fury through more than just his words. With that thought in mind, he began to Observe, increasing the weight upon them all. “Unacceptable! I stand above all as the ruler of the greatest empire this world has ever seen, and you dare to tell me that my grand army can be thwarted by some contraptions sent by that laughing stock of a nation?! I will not allow it!”

“Even this cage is an affront to my power,” he fumed as he gestured around in disgust towards the thick stone ring that encircled the area. “It is an insult to my name and legacy!”

The barrier had been constructed to guard against the Otharians’ metal beasts, specifically the one with a longer snout that could kill from a terrifying distance. After it had nearly succeeded in assassinating him several days after the Otharians had entered the war, the army had set up several stone barriers to protect him from any more such attacks.

There were tunnels that connected the different rings, allowing him to travel between them while keeping his exact location hidden from the enemy, but the fact remained that he had to stay within these stone prisons for his own protection. It made him look weak, like a tiny lizard hiding from predators beneath a rock. The very thought infuriated him. The idea that Otharia, of all countries, had forced him into such a state made it all worse. He could practically hear his ancestors laughing at him.

“Incompetent fools, all of you!” Haidar spat. “The Eterians have been on their last legs for days and yet you still cannot topple them! Impotent! Useless!”

The collected soldiers trembled as he lashed out, but their fear did little to appease his scalding rage. The last time he’d been this angry had been when his forces stationed to the north of Crirada had managed to break through and open the city’s northern gate, only to suffer devastating losses in the span of moments. Nearly a hundred thousand troops had been snuffed out that day, and he’d made sure that the commander of the northern troops, General Maldi, joined them shortly thereafter as penance. A general that couldn’t sniff out a trap was of no worth to him.

“General Inagorri, you have failed to deliver on all fronts. All attempts at sabotage have ended in failure. Even your vaunted Agent Agharia proved a bust. Such failure speaks ill of your abilities.”

“I beg for your mercy, Your Greatness,” the woman pleaded. “Agent Agharia has served us incredibly well before-”

“We could have taken Ofrax at any time of our choosing, with or without him. His past performance means nothing. He failed to deliver on his promises. I want him punished.”

“Unfortunately, Agent Agharia may have perished in the battle that night. He has not responded to our messages since.”

“More likely, he had gone into hiding like the worm that he is,” Haidar growled. “He knows that his plan ended in failure. If the Champion had not returned, it would have been a disaster. I cannot help but feel that she has been covering up many of your collective deficiencies. Speaking of which, General Moiras.”

“Yes, Your Grandness?” the large, burly man asked, not daring to look up. Haidar noted with pleasure the subtle hint of terror in the experienced man’s voice but made sure to keep any of said pleasure from reaching his face.

“The Champion gave you a gift and destroyed the western gate. How is it that you have been unable to take advantage of this opportunity? I expected better from the man who led the conquests of Ofrax and Droaja.”

“I have no excuses, Your Greatness. I have yet to solve the puzzle that the Otharians present, and their machines get more powerful each day. I am working with the Champion to search for a solution.”

“You have the best soldiers this army has to offer at your disposal. Use them. If their lives are the price of victory, then so be it.”

“As you will.”

“General Arrino...” the Emperor ground out, his displeasure extra apparent this time. The leader of the southern troops flinched. The man was sweating so profusely that Haidar could see it dripping down his nose as he stared at the floor. Good. “I believe I gave you twenty-five days to deliver your projects to us. We have well eclipsed that deadline now, and yet I have yet to see your abominations anywhere. Care to enlighten me?”

General Arrino swallowed. “T-there was an a-accident on the pass leaving the Divide, Y-Your Eminence. Several wagons were destroyed, leaving some of them to walk. You understand, given their deficiencies, how slow it is for them to move on their own. They will be here within three days now, I place my life on it.”

The Emperor’s scowl deepened. “That is correct. You do,” he replied. “You will receive ten lashings for your failure to follow orders. The only reason I have not disposed of you already is that you are necessary to fully control those... things. Should they prove less than advertised, you will find my tolerance for your repeated failures short-lived.”

To bring his point home, Haidar increased the weight upon the general even more. The sweaty man nodded weakly, unable to work up a reply. His point made, Haidar turned to the last of his four high generals—and perhaps the weakest link among them.

“General Barcos, more than any other general under my command, your units have consistently underperformed. I have even received reports of Eterians being able to move units off of the east wall to support other areas, while several gambles you have made have cost us more units while producing few dividends. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Peru Barcos had always shown great potential as a leader and soldier. Younger than the others, his promotion had been a bit of a scandal several years ago, with several other commanders feeling like he hadn’t earned his position. Given that the selection had been made by the Emperor himself, they, of course, accepted his judgment quickly. Perhaps they had been right all along. The young man’s brashness continued to be a detriment to his results.

“...Your Highness, if I may ask, could even the greatest cook create a delicious meal from spoiled meat? Could the finest musician play a masterpiece on an estrin with broken strings? Could the most skilled artist create a statue admired the world over out of nothing but mud?”

“Peru, watch yourself,” General Moiras warned.

“No,” he shot back, rising up from his knees to look the Emperor in the eyes, “I am saying what must be said and what you know yourself but lack the courage to speak. We are running out of soldiers. The last few rounds of reinforcements from the homeland have consisted of farm boys and milkmaids! They have almost no training, they can’t coordinate with other units, and they freeze at the first sign of danger. They are more of a liability than a resource. We are running dry, and we cannot continue to pretend that everything is fine!”

Haidar’s eyes drew thin and his hands slowly balled into fists. His fury, which had subsided slightly after the verbal spankings he’d given the others, had returned full force. The weight upon the general increased greatly, but the man refused to bow to it. Peru Barcos’s ability as a Feeler was well known throughout the army. His raw strength was second only to the Champion’s.

“Otharia has already shown themselves to be formidable opponents. Their presence will likely only increase, and with that flying machine, they can deliver not just more units but also food to strengthen the Eterians. Kutrad is likely doing everything they can to scrabble up another force, possibly with more of their beast cavalry. And Stragma is paralyzed now, but for how long? They will break out of their stupor eventually, and if we are still here then we are doomed! We are overextended and exhausted. We must retreat at least back to Gustil and shore up our position on this continent now while we still have the chance, because if we do not and Stragma moves, we will be trapped between those metal monstrosities and the only other army left in the world that can rival our strength. It will be the end!”

“Retreat? Retreat?! You dare to suggest that I turn my back on the enemy and bring dishonor to my legacy?! You dare to say that Ubrus, my grand empire, should flee some savages in a forest?! NEVER!”

Haidar’s fingers gripped The Compass with such anger that his nails dug deep into the thick leather cover. The thick tome filled with the deeds of his forebears going all the way back to the First Emperor chronicled, more than anything else, their conquests. Most of his ancestors had expanded the Empire under their rule. Of those who had, none had ever been sent running—especially not by an inferior opposing force. Were he to retreat now, he would go down in history as the first coward Emperor, the one who couldn’t topple a city even when outnumbering the enemy more than seven to one. NO! He would never allow it! He pointed his hand towards the man who had dared to speak back to him, who had dared to advocate for such a shameful course.

“Taras! Deal with this traitor!”

Taras, his personal bodyguard, stepped forward from his usual position by Haidar’s side without even a word. The man drew the two large swords strapped to his back as a strange hum began to fill the area. The pitch bobbed and weaved up and down before settling on a single high note that undulated slightly at seemingly random intervals. Steadily, with each step the large man took towards General Barcos, the volume of the note increased, slowly beginning to drown out everything else. The generals and their subordinates all cried out in pain as the sound began to disrupt their inner ears, throwing off their sense of balance and sending the room spinning in their heads.

Still, though Peru Barcos staggered, he did not fall. Pulling out his own war hammer, he gritted his teeth as Taras approached. “You are leading our nation towards a cliff and you refuse to steer away!” he cried, his voice barely audible over the endlessly-ringing tone. “You must be stopped before it is too late! Now!”

Haidar caught a glimpse of movement in the periphery of his vision off to his right. Somebody, somehow, had managed to hide from sight off to the side of the area. Whereas another ruler might have felt alarm at the sudden revelation, Haidar did not worry in the slightest. Just as Barcos had given his signal, Taras had, without even turning, thrown the sword in his right hand directly towards where the hidden assailant was. Before the mystery assassin could even react, the blade buried itself deep into her chest and straight through her heart, killing her instantly.

The Emperor chuckled. This was standard procedure for Taras. Hiding from his hearing was impossible unless you could somehow live without breathing or a beating heart.

While Haidar had been unaware of the hidden person until just this moment, Taras had surely known all along. Instead of simply dealing with it outright, he’d wisely waited to see if any co-conspirators would show themselves, and they had. He truly was the ultimate bodyguard.

Peru swung his hammer towards Taras, putting as much of his mighty strength into the blow as he could, but the bodyguard avoided the blow with a nimbleness that belied his large, imposing frame. The pitch of the note shifted slightly and the general stumbled again, his own sense of balance changing direction suddenly and throwing him out of whack. He barely managed to interpose the shaft of his hammer between him and the blade swinging for his neck. Now horribly unsteady, the blow sent him crashing to the ground; while he was one of the strongest Feelers in the empire, Taras was likely strongest Weaver in the world, capable of feats of strength almost on the same level.

Taras swung again, swiftly and efficiently, and the head of the youngest general to ever serve Ubrus rolled across the floor, a look of shock and stupefaction still on his face. Suddenly the ringing tone vanished, leaving only stunned silence. Without a word, Taras walked over to the second assailant, picked up his other sword, returned them both to their sheaths on his back, and calmly walked back to his customary position by Haidar’s side.

“This is your final warning,” the Emperor stated to the quivering lot that remained. “Do not disappoint me. You are dismissed.”

With that last utterance echoing through his subordinates’ heads, he turned and left them staring at the remains of their comrade. Later he would have the man’s corpse prominently displayed where the rest of the troops could see it as a demonstration of what happened to those who dared to question him. But for now, it would serve its purpose best haunting the others’ dreams with its glassy-eyed stare.