Tyrant of the Ruined Sun

Meanwhile in the lands south of the Hadrian Mountains, in the center of a vast encampment bearing the black and silver standards of the Eclipse Empire, stood the grand tent of non other than the Martial Demon, Hamilcar Seth, whose brows now furrowed as his piercing gaze fixated itself upon the two pieces of paper he had just received less than an hour ago.

"I've arrived, my lord." Avestan, his right hand man, loudly stated as he entered his tent.

Breaking out of his thoughts, Hamilcar nodded in greeting, before saying "Read this."

Not thinking much of his master's command, Avestan nonchalantly took the parchment from his hand and did as he was told, meanwhile Hamilcar had already moved to the tent's entrance, staring off into the distant north.

"... Pardon the offense my lord, but are you sure this message is real?" Avestan spoke with a measured tone, yet the slight tremors of his scarlet pupils betrayed his inner turmoil.

"It possesses both the Emperor's and the Grand Vizier's seals. There is no doubt of their legitimacy." Hamilcar answered.

"Damn!" Avestan loudly cursed, slamming his fist onto the table, nearly breaking it.

"Why now of all times?! Just when we were on the eve of the most important battle with the Northern Tribal Coalition's forces to decide the fate of the northern Murathicus lands, that conniving worm of a man Zadkiel just had to crawl out of his little hole and wreck it all!" Avestan furiously roared.

"The Gods seem intent on hindering our empire this time." Hamilcar offhandedly remarked.

"I'll the ready the troops for immediate departure." Avestan said as he rushed out the tent.

"And why would you do that?" Hamilcar asked, as his arm blocked his subordinate's path.

"My Lord, the eastern provinces have risen in revolt! The Empire is in a state of civil war! And worse still, is that the Mercenary King is on the rebels side! How can we not go back?!" Avestan anxiously replied, though he still made sure that his voice did not rise beyond a certain level.

Shaking his head as a light chuckle escaped his lips, Hamilcar said "Though you've greatly improved in restraining your worse tendencies over the years, when it truly counts you're still as brash and hot headed as ever."

A nearly imperceptible blush rushed to Avestan's scarred but handsome face, as he suddenly felt himself returned to the days of when he had just joined Hamilcar and was lectured on a nearly hourly basis by him.

Quickly shooing those old memories away, he asked with a grave sense of urgency "What do you mean, my lord?"

"Read the second letter." Hamilcar smirkingly replied, as he sat back down on the head of the large table that occupied most of the room in his tent.

Suddenly remembering the second piece of paper he held in his hand, Avestan wanted to slap himself for this embarrassing blunder, before quickly scanning the second letter, which to his surprise was a short message from the emperor himself.

It simply stated, after a concise greeting, that the Grand Marshal had no reason to concern himself with the current situation in the empire and under no circumstance should he halt his current invasion, but must instead accelerate his plans with peace of mind, as the conquest of the Murathicus lands still remains the empire's highest priority, while the emperor would personally deal with all the annoyances in the east.

Tearing his eyes away from the letter and back to his master, Avestan didn't have to even speak for Hamilcar to understand.

"You doubt our emperor's words." Hamilcar said as he looked at him with slight frown.

Avestan did not mince words and directly stated "I do."

Avestan prepared himself for a beating, but contrary to his beliefs, Hamilcar simply replied with "So do I."

"My lord?" Avestan asked in surprise.

"If I and the Southern Army were still with in the empire, I would be far more confident in our liege's success, but now our strength is divided, and against a man such as Maximillian, that is a deadly sin." Hamilcar gravely said.

"Then why are we still not preparing to depa..." Avestan wanted to instant on quickly leaving again, when Hamilcar interrupted him saying "Because it wouldn't help."

"This message is already a few weeks old." He explained "Even if we depart this second, it would take us months to return to his majesty's side and by under the war would've been decided, as per the agreement made between him and Maximillian. If we leave now, all we would be doing is regurgitating all we had swallowed up so far in this campaign, and if we ever return again to continue our mission, we will find it ten times as difficult to reclaim even a tenth of what we lost."

"But we can't just do noth..." Avestan tried to argue, but yet again Hamilcar interrupted with a single sentence that left awestruck.

"And that is why I choose to hope." Hamilcar said with a resolute tone.

"Huh?" Was all he managed mutter.

"I choose to hope on his majesty's talent that has shocked me so many times. I choose to hope on his relentless ambition that has surprised without end. I choose to hope in whatever the Lord of the Underworld has done to give us such a frightening emperor. I simply choose to hope in his majesty. That is all." Hamilcar spoke in a dream like tone reminiscent of those youthful idealists, completely unlike his usual hardened self.

Avestan was shocked speechless, staring wide eyed and slack jawed at his lord, who seemed so utterly alien to him at this moment, as he never thought of his master as a man of such sentimentality. Yet before he could even finish that train of thought, like a switch suddenly being flipped; an air of murderous intent engulfed his whole being and then with a truly demonic voice, that practically oozed with killing pleasure he said "Now then, shall we invite our officers and those Murathican Patriarchs. We still have a war of our to win."

Seeing his lord return to normal, Avestan snapped back to attention and quickly saluted, saying "Right away, my lord."

As soon as he left, Hamilcar's expression quickly morphed into one that none had ever seen before on his ancient features; a look of excitement for the coming battle he would delight in, and undisguised worry and envy for the battle he could not partake in.