[YF] Chapter 252: Pit of the Pact Nations

Despite my fears, not a single one of the leaders claimed falsehood. Not even the idiots. Everyone was quick to accept my accounts, and the horrors of the coming Anatla were not tossed aside as the ravings of a lunatic… as much as I’m sure they would have loved to.

Their lack of denial hardly means they can truly accept the fate that lies before us all. Many hold their heads in their arms and bend over in despair. My surprise that they’d accepted what was happening so quickly must have shown on my face, as Imiha speaks up.

“If you said the same thing a year ago, you would have been laughed out of the castle. Remus and Grímr were,” she says. “But now that we’ve had a second Collapse — and we know it wasn’t a one-off disaster — you’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone who isn’t dreading the worst. Hope is not in high supply right now.”

Honestly, if I’d not seen the Anatla for myself, I would have doubted their existence. I’d been prepared ask for Leal to enter so I could show off the constantly changing energy permeating her shoulders. I’m glad I don’t have to. The Anatlan energy flowing through her is probably the best proof I have of their existence, but putting Leal in front of all these nation leaders and saying she has a sort of corruptive influence within her seems unwise.

“We found a method to suppress the influence of the Anatla, and we will share it with your mages in the hopes they can discover how to operate it or expand it to something we can use to protect ourselves.” While we had time on the train ride over, Leal, Ignatia, Yalun and I tried to copy all the notes we had into separate books so we could hand them out while keeping our own. “The inscription was keeping an Anatla contained in the southernmost region of the Warring Isles, and I intend to travel to Riparia to see if they can tell me anything.”

“As terrible as an invasion of these Anatla sounds, we cannot invest resources until we have halted the one we already face.” The leader from Kizthak leans back in her chair, absently scraping her arm antlers against her chest cage. “This is something we can only deal with after we push back the Empire.”

“No. We cannot assume we have enough time,” the volan of the Order says. “We know the Blood Moon took far longer to reawaken this last Collapse. And assuming it does have a suppressing aspect as the young áed claims, then we must assume that it’s protection will not return the next time it occurs. In addition to this inscription, we will need our elite in reserve to fight them off.”

Considering what I’ve seen, there is no chance even the elite Inner Circle could fight the Monolith Anatla. I remain quiet. For now, just having all these leaders actually taking the threat seriously is more than I was expecting.

“Then we make the war quick,” the Vanguard Commander, Kautak, says. “With our forces combined with these fine áed grand elders, we punch our way straight to the Empress and Emperor. Good old decapitation strategy.”

“It might be different in Vanguard, but you know that method is old for a reason? No nation but your own keeps their governing structure centralised. Certainly not Henosis.” There are a few grumbles through the room. Likely, many already had considered such an operation and how convenient it would be if it worked. “We would only open ourselves on every front. The rest of our armies and mercenaries would be dead in days.”

"How likely do you think the Empire will be to call off their invasion if they hear we’re all facing such a future? Can they be convinced?”

“Bah. Henosians are arrogant and prideful more than they are competent,” the Vanguard Commander says. “They’ll demand we surrender and bend to annexation even if we have the upper hand. They always do.”

There is a moment of silence in the room, before Imiha speaks. Reluctantly. “Maybe we should.” Every eye immediately locks on her. The silence becomes deafening. The former princess seems to collect herself and meet the incredulous gazes. “Maybe this is the only option we have. Henosis is already deep within our borders, and I won’t be surprised to hear that they’ve pushed deeper before we can get our logistics network repaired.

“The mermineae war left our nations devastated for manpower. The Collapses have crushed us economically. And to top it all off, we lost one of our remaining Inner Circle mages to some fucking snake that didn’t even do us the benefit of moving into the Empire. Beira was a bitch, and I’ve always hated her, but that ice mage was a fifth of our remaining strength.”

Imiha shakes her torso and shifts her eyes towards us. Me and my elders. “Even with the help of the áed, I can’t see us winning. I can only picture a stalemate all along the front. With Armageddon lingering over all our heads, how can we willingly throw ourselves into a war that will inevitably result in millions more lives lost? The idea of giving in to the Empire infuriates me just as much as anyone else here, but it’s either that… or the assured destruction of all we know.”

The response is immediate. Everyone in the room is suddenly loud, shouting over each other. I hear many accusations of “coward” tossed towards Imiha. The dohrni in question leans over in her chair, not responding to the hateful comments and instead wrings a pair of tentacles between each other.

But now that Imiha has brought up the idea, it seems she isn’t the only one to have considered it. Some are more open than others, openly arguing that it is the only option, but there are far more that remain quiet. Nervous eyes shifting over the other participants.

I want to say that I agree with her, but I can’t.

The ideal is noble; not only would it prevent countless deaths, it would allow everyone to work together to avoid the coming Anatla without the distraction of war. In a perfect world, it would be the best option.

But I cannot agree.

It might be entirely my hatred of Henosis warping my perspective, but the idea of giving up on the fight seems wrong. I have entrusted the pact nations to the defence of my friends. Sure, they have their own problems and I’ve had disputes, but they are the best of the lot. I cannot trust that Henosis would be the same. Not after they killed my Mum. Not after they tried to enslave my kind. Not after what they did to me.

I would rather see Henosis burn then allow them to incorporate the pact nations into their empire.

Okay, so my opinion is certainly warped by hatred, but I don’t like the precedent a lack of fighting sets. How does anyone expect to fight off the Anatla if they are unwilling to take on the weaker opponent?

Have I made a mistake? Should I take those I care for and drag them somewhere safe? Somewhere I can make sure they can remain isolated from Armageddon when it finally arrives?

For a few moments, I simply consider collecting Ash and his group, before forcing my team to move somewhere in the far west of New Vetus. After I figure out how to use the Anatla suppressing inscription. The idea is tempting. Tempting, yet I still come across the same problems that prevented me from doing the same back in the mermineae war. It would make my friends hate me. It would crush them when those they care for die outside of the safety I provide.

“We are not here to assist those who are unwilling to help themselves.” Śuri’s voice is layered with enough presence to silence commotion. “Regardless of what you decide to do, know that we áed will be attacking the Henosis and any allies they have.”

Śuri’s threat couldn’t be more clear.

The room retains its silence after he states our position, and I have to worry that it might have crushed any chance at coordinating we had. The last thing I want is my team to be on the other side of a war to my kind.

Also, doesn’t his admission of our intent damage our position in negotiations? We’ve gone from being an unbiased third party to one that already has a stake in this war. As I look around, I’m sure everyone else understands the same; that he threw away a far better negotiating position to cripple the idea of giving in to the Henosis. No one dares argue.

“So, what? You want us to set aside a portion of our mercenaries to research this ancient inscription we aren’t even sure we’ll be able to make operational, while we fight off the strongest nation of the continent?” President Listis leaves no question of his distaste. “You best be able to support your claims of strength.”

The air in the room grows ever more tense. Both Śuri and Listis glare dangerously at each other, while off to the side, the Inner Circle mercs shift their position. They don’t make it too obvious, but each of my elders turns to one, making it clear they’re ready to take them.

I have to wonder how likely it would be for any of these leaders to survive should a battle take place in such a confined space. Even if one of the mages was a water mage — which I’m pretty sure they aren’t — it’s hard to imagine they’ll be able to protect each of the incredibly fragile fleshy creatures mere metres from us.

I glance to Remus, who stands between us and the pact nation representatives. The dohrni seems stressed, but he’s been stressed this entire meeting. How would he fare under my elder’s flames? If anything does happen, I’ll make sure to protect him. The rest… well, that’s the Inner Circle’s job.

Wait, what am I thinking. I need to stop the talks from devolving before they reach such a hostile state. I open my mouth to speak, and hopefully calm things down, but Listis does first.

“Then we will agree to assist with your goals against the Anatla once you prove yourself,” he says. “What say you?”

Śuri nods slowly, releasing much of the tension in the room. “Prove ourselves, how?”

Instead of answering directly, Listis turns to the skinny Order representative. “What about a set of private duels? No deaths of course.”

“You wish to reveal our Inner Circle’s abilities to outsiders?” the dohrni asks.

“We can reveal only one if you wish, but we cannot succeed without some risks. I’d say this is a rather tame one, all things considered,” Listis says. “Besides, trust will be important if we want to achieve even half of our goals.” The last part was clearly intended for Śuri.

“If the áed aren’t all talk,” he continues, turning to the Vanguard Commander. “Kizthak, I believe your idea of a piercing attack might not be the worst. Given a few changes.”

“Oh?” the muscular albanic man raises an eyebrow in question.

“I believe a touch of bait could incite the Empire’s elite to act early.”

It takes a mere moment for the Commander to understand what Listis is saying. “You want to send our Inner Circle for their capital while leaving the áed in defence? The Empire will think it’s a desperate effort, and respond in kind. But they won’t know the áed are waiting to punish their arrogance.”

“Yes,” he says. “Of course, attacking their capital will be an embarrassment at most, but the goal is to wipe out as many of their elite as we can from the start. The moment they realise the áed have already arrived, and are part of the war, achieving preferable match-ups will become near impossible.”

The plan sounds surprisingly good, but there’s one aspect — specifically with their plan to breach — that worries me. “What about their bombs?”

My question is returned with a room full of blank, confused gazes.

“Bombs?”

Oh no.

How could they not know? Henosis has been working on them for years now. Do they have no one on the inside of the Empire at all? I thought all the fear these leaders and representatives have been exuding all this time was because of the elite killer weapons Henosis has. This is so much worse than they know.

Well, better they learn now than find out later.

“They have bombs that can kill your Inner Circle.”

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