Tyrant of the Ruined Sun - Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Loithiriomos and a Beloved Tyrant

I was sitting back in my tent, with three high ranking priests and a dozen alchemists swarming around me like a hive of agitated bees, rushing to heal and purify to perfection all my poisoned burns I sustained that were mostly centred around my knuckles, forearms and lower half of my feet, while I continued to irritably stare at the two beaten and bruised behemoths I had managed subdue with such great difficulty today.

“It truly was unfortunate you lost that third one, but why are you so upset about it? Was gaining the third truly such a vital part of whatever plan you connived when you saw them?” The serene, yet cold and proud voice of my Eve echoed out next to me then, as she glided soundlessly around the frantic healers and to my side.

I did not turn to her, as I finally spared the cowering two from my glare with a weary closing of my eyes, as I heaved a great sigh. “It’s not the fact that I have two instead of three that irks me so, it is the fact the two I have are both male, while the one who died was a precious female.” I answered.

“I see.” She whisperingly muttered, as she once again began to circle me. “You want to raise a whole of legion of these rancid abominations you call Loithiriomos. I must say it would certainly give you an edge in any future wars you will undertake.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “I have no interest with a legion of them; that would a disaster if anything; and besides, these things have a gestation period of decades before they even hatch, let alone grow to maturity. What I wanted was the ability to breed only a few beneath the vaults of the palace, maybe just half a dozen at most, so that I may use them as a form of a final defence, a last card to bet on in a time of desperate gambles.”

“…You expect to be needing them soon?” She carefully asked, stopping her slow pacing, as she turned to me again.

“Not soon…” I paused for a moment. “But I’ve already told you what faces us in the future, my love; and we must be as powerful as possible by then.”

She did not immediately reply, but instead kept her head fixated at me, and I needed no more words to understand her want at this moment, as I waved the buzzing healers away, despite their protests of not yet finishing their work.

“And you think the Boreas crown prince will not see them coming?” She asked, just as the last of the healers departed out of earshot, and she calmly came to occupy the seat where the head alchemist was in only a moment ago.

“Of course he will see them coming, his ancestor will make sure of it.” I added, spitting spite at the thought, as I continued. “But knowledge is only as useful as your ability to act upon it, and two beasts with the power of fifth rank martial artists and the capacity to neutralize or at least temporarily cripple eight or nineth ranks with their death is a resource I have been determined to obtain since I first launched this war. It was one of my primary objectives if I am to be honest.”

She paused for a moment, as though weighing her coming words and asked “Then why did you say you have little interest in an army of these things if they are so effective?”

“A weapon is only as good as your ability to control it, and these beasts are all but untameable” I gravely said. “Even these two before us now, they only remain so docile because they have just experienced extreme pain, but within a few days at most, when their bodies heal and are restored to their prime, they will scurry back to their baser instincts, and begin to snap and tear at all they could enclose within in their vile maws.”

“You know this from personal experience?” She asked as her slender, cold fingers began to trace my wounds and continue to apply the nearby ointments on them.

I nodded. “When I was in the throws of the culminating final battles of my campaign against, what was known then as the Rathunas Empire in my past life, I came across them though it was in a much different manner than I did in this life, and was immediately impressed with their voracious nature, as I then decided to fashion myself a new knightly corps from them, but the beasts were far too wild, far too rabid and plagued endlessly with hunger. More then once I had to slay them before they wrought utter havoc upon my men, eventually I had to scrap this idea of mine, when the last of my captured Loithiriomos dies in captivity, and the old wild colonies were hunted to oblivion before I could replenish my ranks of them.”

“They’d gone extinct in your previous life?” She asked, slightly stunned by the revelation.

I nodded, before I further explained “The once scattered colonies of Loithiriomos were all exterminated, even down to the unhatched eggs. Would like to gander a guess by who?”

“The Boreas crown prince.” She gravely answered.

I nodded again voicelessly.

“But why not use them for his own devices? Why waste such a monstrous asset?” She asked, seeing this act as a complete opposite departure from habit to the man who I continuously described as a great tactician and schemer.

“Because he, just like me, could not find a way to make them his own. And considering their extreme proximity to my lands as opposed to his own, he had no choice but to send a kill squad of some of his finest warriors to slay the beasts, before I could find a way to truly harness their might against him.” I answered her suspicions.

“But then how did that Murathicus king summon them with such ease when the two of you could not? They didn’t seem too injured to be forced onto submission like these two here.” She questioned again.

“A whistle.” I uttered.

“A what?” She asked.

“When he called for them, he used a whistle, and it was one I am certain is the divine boon granted to him by his ancestor in this life.” I gravely announced.

She did not immediately respond, but then asked with equal measure of curiosity and worry “How can you be so sure?”

“It had the faintest rippling sensation of divinity pulsing from it, the same as Valdour’s own hammer artifact. You will see it when return. But the problem remains is that I have no idea what this artifact of his is capable of doing, and what are it’s limits even are. Can it only command the Loithiriomos, or is that just one of it’s many perks that it offers it’s wielder?” I added, before then muttering with a slightly tired sigh. “Just another thing for me to consider going forward.”

“You’re not lying to me, but I can tell you are keeping more secrets from me. What else concerns you?” She said a moment later.

“That ability of yours is so… OW!” I exaggerated a yelp of pain, quickly retracting my arm from her grasp, as she overzealously applied the remedy to my wounds.

“Don’t try to change the subject.” She sternly reprimanded, as she glared at me from behind her veil.

I gazed at her for a moment, and then said “The one I duelled today, Eviduir, he carries the same name and even the same face as the man who faced in my past life, and yet he is not the son of the God of Prosperity I knew.”

Eve looked at me for a moment, but then before she could utter the words from her opening mouth, a shout from outside cut through the silence. “My emperor, the generals have convened and are asking for an audience.”

“They may enter.” I answered, after softly promising her that we would continue this later.

The first to enter were of course, Hamilcar and Tessiphina, followed shortly by Leonid, Hasdrubal, Barrafin, Archon, Orhan and Avestan, along with the other senior staff and officers.

Both Leonid and Hasdrubal had their hands, necks and parts of their faces bandages from were they were burned, though it was mostly for precaution’s sake, as they only lightly touched the Loithiriomos’ poisoned, acid blood when they transporting Abraham and Horus, who were both still under intensive care a few tents from us.

Meanwhile Tessiphina was perfectly fine, which was a thing that could not spoken about the Grand Marshal as well, for he had suprisingly suffered several wounds during his duel with Argus, most prominently of which, being the jagged wound along his right forearm, and a somewhat deep cut that spanned the length of half of his left chest and all the way to his upper shoulder.

“More scars to add to the collection, Grand Marshal?” I lightly asked, knowing his penchant for never fully healing his scars, despite it’s ease from high ranking priests, as they all took their seats around the table.

“Do not underestimate an old man in a profession were most die young.” Hamilcar calmly quoted, though the excited grin spreading across his lips chowed his true thoughts. “He maybe past his prime, but his skills are still a terror to behold.”

“This is the first time I have heard you compliment an enemy so much.” I remarked.

“He is deserving of that much at least.” He answered.

“Very well then.” I nodded, as Bellerophon and my brothers sauntered into the meeting as well.

“And your wounds sire?” Hasdrubal asked a moment later, eyeing the dozen different ointments and potions littered before me, while Eve continued her work, finally wrapping my still blistered skin with clean bandages, to prevent any further complications to the area.

“It’s nothing.” I shrugged, since the torture of it barely registered to me anymore, after two lifetimes of allowing hellfire into my own body. “How are those two?” I asked.

“The healers assured us that they will be fine.” Hasdrubal answered happily. “Though they did say that lord Abraham will recover faster than Horus, as he would a few more days of respite.”

“That’s certainly fine.” I nodded at the expected news, before I then asked a few more questions about them to be absolutely sure, and only then did I turn to the Grand Marshal and begin the meeting in earnest “How is the state of the army?”

“Of the original three hundred thousand men we began with, we are remained with little more than two hundred and twenty thousand. While our stockpiles of medicinal herbs, Black Sand and ammunition for our artillery have been greatly diminished, being now only a third of their original count.” He answered.

Silence descended upon us, as everyone turned to look at me. The army has certainly suffered a great many casualties, almost a full army in fact has been lost in this bloody campaign, but it did indeed remain strong enough to continue pushing forward if need be, and for a moment I did consider it, if only in the vain hope of catching Eviduir.

Yet I said “Our objectives have already been accomplished. The southern, eighth and nineth armies are to halt, replenish their ranks and begin pacifying operations in the newly conquered territories.”

My gathered officers nodded in understanding, as a slight sense of foreboding completely left them, having feared I would command to continue this campaign, when the men were already beginning to grow very much war weary after such a harrowing few months.

Though I did see couple grow especially disappointed at my decision, mostly being Hamilcar, who finally experienced a good fight after so long, and Tessiphina, who’s thirst for vengeance had yet to be sated.

“What about you sire?” Hamilcar asked.

“I think it is high time I return home.”

***

But while the victors were resting upon the field of their triumph, the defeated were pitifully licking their wounds beneath the woodland canopy of a forest, a few leagues away.

“Bastards!” Eviduir roared into the night sky, as he smashed the withered husk of a dead tree into splinters with his barehands.

“Calm yourself.” The steady voice of Argus echoed out reproachful edge. “Since young I have told you that anger in dire times is nothing but poison to the mind.

Eviduir turned towards his old teacher, who was slumped onto the ground, clutching his bleeding side, while dabbing a bloody piece of cloth on the bleeding side of his head, as he rested his arched back upon an old, gnarled tree.

“How can I calm myself teacher after all that happened?!” He exasperatedly asked.

“It is the measure of a great ruler, how he can remain steadfast before setbacks.” Answered Argus.

“Spare me the pedantic lectures teacher, please.” Eviduir

Argus merely sighed in response, as he advised “Then you must busy yourself not with the innocent trees, and divert your energies towards the finding of a solution instead.”

Yet instead of a rise to the challenge, or a hardening of resolution, Eviduir merely slumped onto the floor beside his master, and said “What can we do? We have been thoroughly beaten, and without at least a minor victory upon these plains, our future is looking particularly bleak. It won’t be long now, before our most steadfast allies betray us to the other two clans, and this destructive war of ours is returned, only now we will no longer be participants of it, and the wolf at our door will just keep growing stronger while we bleed ourselves to death.”

“…If we can not rely upon our current allies, then we must we must call upon new friends to weather the storm that is that man.” Argus slowly said after a momentary hesitation.

“But who?!” Demanded Eviduir. “There is no one else among the tribes who would follow us now. They will all flock to the banner of those other two.”

“There are others…” Argus hesitated again.

“Who for the love of the Gods Teacher?!” Eviduir yelled out.

Argus’ words echoed through the woods, bouncing off trees and returning to their ears like a lost phrase. “Those who share the land our enemies dwell, in the lands beyond the northernmost borders they call the Hadrian Mountains.”