"It is the only viable path I see," the Emperor of Godma said, his breath a heavy sigh. "'The world abounds with tragedy and futile resistance.'" Doruni recognized the quotation from the celebrated drama The Chivalric Reverie, though he refrained from completing the passage. "The ancient Gods, with their near-immortal essence, could have endured eternally—yet in their struggle against the Titan Gods, they faced virtual extinction. The noble, elegant elves might have dwelled forever in their paradisiacal realms—yet were compelled to rise in desperate defense against dwarven genocide... And I? I am merely mortal. Even as sovereign, as Emperor of this vast imperium, I confront limitations and inevitabilities. I would not have you think me disingenuous, Doruni." He halted his measured stride. "But the revelation from the Triad has illuminated my understanding: this is the necessary sacrifice for unity and peace. Provided this matter remains confined to the smallest possible circle, the likelihood of exposure diminishes significantly. I trust you comprehend my meaning." The intelligence chief nodded solemnly. "Yet secrets, like fire, will out in the end." The Emperor's voice was heavy with a fatalist's resolve. "The Three have shown me the path; I must trust they will lend me their strength. But be that as it may, I will not turn from this. I, William Davidow, will have Cynthia, and Duviliel, Brigar, Ellytra--all the kingdoms of the North. If it costs me my throne, even the crown from my head, then so be it."

  The emperor ceased his pacing and settled upon a garden bench. In his seventeen years of imperial service, Doruni had never witnessed the emperor reveal such personal sentiment during any discussion. Since the passing of Luna Fredria—the famed "Ice Empress" of Skronzinger, Davidow's beloved consort—he had transformed into a paragon of stoic self-discipline, perhaps better described as emotionally barren, a perfect emotional stillness. Even Raveirmom Dear, a man known for his own harsh asceticism, had once remarked, "There is nothing left of him now but cold cinders." Without imperial instruction, the spymaster ventured to seat himself beside his sovereign. "What confounds me," he began cautiously, "is Your Majesty's singular fixation upon northern conquest. We have already incorporated virtually every southern territory—even the Duchy of Elnya renders annual tribute. Countless fertile plains and untapped iron deposits encircle our borders." He cleared his throat discreetly. "King Ptolemaick himself would have envied such a tally of conquests. Surely, what we hold now is more than enough."

  William Davidow reclined against the bench, his gaze directed skyward. "Perhaps for you—indeed, for most—such conquests might satisfy. For me, they represent mere preliminaries. This is neither insatiable avarice nor pursuit of historical immortality—though the latter may incidentally result. My objective transcends such petty ambitions. What I seek is conclusion."

  "Conclusion? Your Majesty means the termination of all nations save Godma?"

  "I mean the conclusion of warfare itself."

  Doruni searched the Emperor's face as if it were a coded message, seeking the true meaning beneath the word. "Throughout history, conflicts have predominantly erupted between sovereign states."

  "So, if all lands, north and south, are one within Godma, war itself will cease to be?"

  "Indeed." The emperor's satisfaction was palpable at his spymaster's comprehension. "For only through war can war itself be ultimately conquered."

  "Yet," Doruni ventured, not entirely persuaded by this reasoning, "armed conflict can erupt between regions. The catalysts for warfare extend beyond mere national distinctions..."

  "I am well aware," the emperor interjected. "Your observations are already familiar to me. The differences are innumerable, necessitating their systematic elimination. Unification represents merely the initial phase."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Your Majesty proposes the eradication of 'difference' itself. Such an endeavor borders on the impossible. Setting aside non-human races, within humanity alone exist profound variations in language, religion, cultural tradition, and philosophical outlook..."

  "Precisely why this represents such a monumental undertaking. Only through the complete eradication of all such distinctions, the absolute termination of difference, can warfare—the endless conflict between human beings—be conclusively ended."

  At this moment, Doruni recognized he was conversing with a madman—not some directionless utopian fantasist, but a methodical lunatic pursuing an objective so vastly ambitious it verged on the attainable. The revelation instilled not amusement but profound disquiet, a cold dread creeping along his spine. For the man before him, this Emperor of Godma, possessed such conviction that one could not easily dismiss the possibility that he might actually realize this preposterous ambition.

  "And this... this is the vision the Three showed you?" the spymaster asked, treading softly.

  "In essence. Though there is more," the Emperor admitted without hesitation.

  Perhaps detecting subtle modulation in the emperor's tone, Doruni elected not to pursue this line of inquiry further. Both men occupied opposite ends of the bench, each immersed in private contemplation. "What of the Archbishop?" the emperor eventually broke their mutual silence. "We have awaited him at length."

  "Archbishop Sheronle specifically indicated that today's preparations would require additional time beyond the usual duration. Anticipating Your Majesty's potential displeasure, he expressly requested I convey his sincere apologies."

  "Such apologies ought to be delivered personally," the emperor noted with mild irritation. "Nevertheless, if he labors in preparation for the prayer ceremony, such delay is understandable. The Triad's rituals must never suffer negligence in execution."

  "It appears Your Majesty no longer harbors reservations concerning the Triad."

  "I never cultivated antipathy toward the Triad. Reverence and devotion toward them is entirely appropriate—they have, since time immemorial, illuminated humanity's origins and ultimate destiny. I merely object to divine authority superseding royal prerogative. Such arrangements invariably undermine centralized governance."

  "Your observation is astute. Certain realms—particularly those northern kingdoms—maintain allegiance to the ancient pantheon. With ten or more deities, their populace often cannot determine which specific divinity merits worship, ultimately treating them as a collective entity. Had Godma embraced concepts like 'divine right of kings' or comparable theocratic principles, we might already have fragmented into three separate nations."

  "Look to the Western Isles for proof enough. One strong kingdom they might be, yet they squabble as seven, each barely able to feed its own." A sneer touched the Emperor's lips. "Their only virtues are a certain brute stubbornness and a fleet not easily dismissed. What of Shahani, now that we move on Cynthia? Prince Wally's wife is the Cynthian queen's own sister, is she not?"

  "I must tender my apologies, Your Majesty." Doruni bowed his head contritely. "Amid the multitude of pressing matters, I neglected to report our intelligence regarding the Western Seas. Indeed, as Your Majesty anticipated, Shahani has dispatched naval forces in Cynthia's aid—a remarkably substantial fleet. According to survivor accounts, Shahani's armada comprises approximately seventy warships."

  "Seventy sail?!" William Davidow's voice was suddenly flint. "Does that count their longboats as well, or only true war-galleys?"

  "On this point, I cannot provide definitive confirmation," the intelligence chief admitted. "However, I consider it improbable. The encounter with this fleet occurred in waters beyond Bellita, indicating a voyage duration exceeding twenty days. Such extended naval operations inevitably result in vessel attrition, suggesting the islanders' initial deployment likely exceeded even this substantial number."

  The emperor settled back against the bench. Historically, Godma had functioned as a predominantly landlocked power; only following the annexation of Sitinna and Tangabul did it acquire a modest coastline. While Godmans derived considerable pride from their formidable land forces, their fledgling and inadequately equipped navy remained a persistent source of strategic vulnerability. "You reference 'survivors' as your intelligence source," he observed. "Whose survivors, precisely?"

  "Pirates, to be exact."