Lord of the Truth

When Elinor, with that cold gleam in her eyes, proposed her latest idea — to expose the hidden truths they both knew — Renara's reaction was swift and sharp. She didn't merely refuse; she threatened.

Her voice, low but heavy with an edge that could cut, warned Elinor to keep her mouth shut.

Then, as if to hammer the point home, Renara recounted again the vision she had seen through the golden shard: a scene seared into her memory. She described the sheer weight of its presence — a presence that seemed to look down upon empires as if they were nothing but drifting dust — and insisted that such an entity was not one whose interests could be trifled with.

"If we cannot draw benefit from it," she told Elinor, "then at the very least, we must not provoke it. Do nothing to harm what belongs to it. Nothing."

Elinor, however, would have none of it. Her lips curled with disdain; she accused Renara of exaggeration, of cowardice — of letting fear dictate the fate of an empire. And in that instant, she withdrew herself from the matter entirely.

She made her position known: from this day forward, she would have nothing to do with the Nine Paths Empire's decision-making. She would remain at the frontlines against the Multi-Planetary Twilight Spectrum Empire, only fulfilling her military duties.

It was the last time anyone would ever lay eyes on Elinor, one of the two great pillars upon which the Nine Paths Empire had long stood.

Decades passed. She did not return to Azakra. She was not seen in any battlefield either. Her name became a question rather than a presence. Where had she gone? What was she doing? Was she even still alive?

The whispers grew over time. Some of the elder statesmen swore in hushed tones that Renara had betrayed her sister, luring her into some hidden snare, locking her away in a place from which no sound could escape. Yet, as with all dangerous rumors, no proof ever surfaced.

Still, the mere absence of Elinor was a wound the Empire could not hide.

And then… came the turning of the tide.

With Elinor gone, their enemies seemed to smell blood in the water. All the hostile empires doubled their efforts in the ongoing war. And as if that were not enough, new powers entered the fray, eager to carve their own slice from the Nine Paths Empire's weakening body.

The numbers began to tell a story of their own — a story of decline. For the first time in millions of years, the total number of planets under the Nine Paths Multi-Planetary Empire's banner fell below forty. And still… the count kept falling.

The crisis reached such a fever pitch that Renara herself was forced to descend onto the battlefield — an Empress setting aside her throne to take up arms — to defend one of the Empire's main worlds.

It was a gamble.

There, among the chaos of war, she walked straight into an ambush, escaping at the end by the barest margin after seeing death with her own eyes.

The planet was lost the very next day.

That was the final straw. The Nine Halls Senate, long simmering in silent discontent, could hold their tongues no longer. They convened in full session, the great chamber echoing with voices sharpened by frustration and fear. And when they emerged, their decision was made: Renara's authority was to be stripped away.

She could keep the title of Empress — a crown without teeth — but she would no longer have the right to issue decisions.

If this was not an insult… then what was?

"If they do not trust my ability to lead…" Renara's voice was steady at first, but anger seeped into it, growing sharper with each word. "Then let them come and lead! I am ready to step down entirely. Let us see if even one of them dares to sit in my place!"

"Your Majesty," came the calm reply from one of the elder senators, his tone as polite as duty demanded, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of criticism — and perhaps, quiet pity. "You know as well as I that a Nexus State cannot be replaced by a World-Cataclysm. Such a shift would doom what remains of the Empire. I know the news is… difficult. But I beg you, for the sake of your Empire... keep your composure, lest all be lost."

He let the words hang for a moment before continuing:

"Right now, the Senate's focus is on negotiation. First, with the forces attacking us, to see if some may be bribed into stopping their advance — even if it means ceding a planet or two to each. At the same time, we are attempting to open channels to the Cradle Empire. The strength they displayed in their war against six entire empires is remarkable. They fight on sixteen fronts, winning on every single one, advancing where others retreat. And in the midst of it, they are seizing new worlds from their enemies. That, Your Majesty, is the kind of power worth securing — before it turns against us."

He then continued with grave emphasis, his seven tails swaying slowly behind him, "If we can somehow entice them—by any means possible—into restoring the partnership that once bound our two empires, we will have already won half the war before a single blade is drawn. And if, on top of that, they agree to reopen the low-cost trade routes with the True Beginning Empire in the Young Belt, then we will have secured the other half before our enemies even realize what has happened."

Bang!—Renara's hand slammed down upon the armrest of her throne with a sharp, echoing crack. The golden inlays of the seat trembled faintly at the force. "And tell me, Elder—how exactly is that any different from what I have been trying to achieve all this time?! Did I not send envoys every single day carrying a variety of offers and proposals? Did I not humble myself enough to suggest they dissolve their so-called empire and return to working proudly under our banner? And in return… not even the courtesy of a single reply!"

"We suspect, Your Majesty," the elder said with a voice carefully measured to avoid inflaming her temper, "that their resistance is… personal. After all, you were the one who denied them access to our World Cataclysms whenever they asked, stalling their rise. You were the one who, in the face of growing tensions, officially declared them rebels—forcing them to curse our name and fight under the weight of a relentless, coordinated assault."

Renara's jaw tightened, her voice trembling with a heat that was half anger, half wounded pride. "And I have told you again and again—it was Elinor! It was she who urged me to block their advance, saying it would only end with them devouring us whole! It was her idea to brand them as rebels so they might crawl back to us in obedience. And you—every last one of you in the Senate—agreed. In fact, you were the ones who issued the decree!"

The elder's tone remained steady, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "You were the one who proposed the decree, Majesty. This is the burden of the crown. If the decision leads to victory, history will not remember your sister's counsel, nor the Senate's advice. They will say that you made the call. And if it ends in disaster, it is you who will bear the full weight of blame. And sadly… this is the latter case." He allowed a brief pause before adding, "In any event, we have already dispatched a high-level delegation—four of the Hall Elders themselves—with a substantial offer. We hope to receive a reply soon."

"…An offer? What offer?" The pulse in Renara's throat quickened, the sound of her own heartbeat roaring in her ears. In the current state of the Nine Paths Empire, they were the side bleeding ground—any proposal originating from them could only be one thing: a humiliation in formal dress.

The elder with the seven tails hesitated, as though forcing the words out would cost him a piece of his dignity. "…We are offering them five planets in exchange for a formal declaration of alliance—and for the reopening of trade routes with the True Beginning Empire."

Crk!—Renara's teeth ground together with such force she thought they might splinter.

Five planets—five vibrant worlds teeming with resources and life—offered up like trinkets, in exchange for nothing more than a meaningless declaration that would cost them nothing, and the privilege of growing fat on our coin through trade. This wasn't negotiation. This was surrender dressed in silk.

"I know precisely what you're thinking, Majesty…" The elder's sigh was deep, weighted with years of bitter compromise. "But the times are harsh, and harsh times demand measures we would once have spat upon."

Renara lowered her gaze, the light of the grand hall casting half her face in shadow. Every muscle in her body screamed to unleash her fury, to scorch the air with it—but she forced the fire down, locking it in the pit of her chest. The Empress could not be seen losing control. "Very well… You've already stripped me of my authority. Do as you please. But know this—if this plan fails, if those five planets are thrown away for nothing, I will have words with you…" Her eyes glinted with an edge of steel. "…and with them."

"Your Majesty, your phrasing is not—" The elder took a step forward, preparing to temper her mood, to steer her away from dangerous thoughts of vengeance. But then, quite suddenly, he stopped mid-sentence.

His expression… darkened.

"…What is it? Did you receive a message?" Renara's voice was steady, but the undercurrent of alarm was unmistakable. Anything that could wipe the practiced calm from the elder's face could only mean disaster for the Empire.

"…The Cradle Empire," he said at last, exhaling in quiet defeat. "They rejected the offer entirely—no counterproposal, no attempt at negotiation. They have only one condition: you must name a location… and go there yourself to negotiate."

BAAM!—Renara surged to her feet, the motion as sudden as a lightning strike. "Me? Go to them in person? Since when do emperors humble themselves to negotiate face-to-face?! This is nothing less than an attempt to drag my name through the mud before the entire sector! They can burn in the Abyss before I kneel to them!"

The elder took two steps forward, his own composure cracking. "Your Majesty, I urge you to at lea—"

"Out!" Her voice rang through the chamber like a blade drawn from its sheath, sharp and cold. She thrust an arm toward the massive doors. "I will go to no one. Not today… not ever!"