Chapter Thirty: Declaration of War

Within the imperial palace of the Morris Empire, the grand hall that once echoed with solemn discussions of state affairs was now a tumultuous cacophony. A boy no older than ten sat bewildered upon the throne that had belonged to the Great Emperor Morris, his eyes wide with terror as he watched a throng of military leaders clamoring for vengeance before him. This child emperor was the sole heir of the late sovereign.

Though the Morris Empire had risen with remarkable strength, its founding was comparatively recent. The entire nation rested upon the personal authority of the Great Emperor Morris and the might of his formidable armies. The generals who had fought alongside him were, without question, the most powerful men in the empire. Under the iron rule of the emperor, there had never been space for a so-called “second-in-command”; each faction operated independently, but fortunately the emperor—still in his prime—had not been preoccupied with succession, and so no drama over the throne had unfolded. Yet now, the child emperor sitting upon it appeared little more than a puppet in the eyes of these men of power.

Following the demise of the Great Emperor Morris, these pillars of the empire swiftly purged the assassins and all potential adversaries—whether some of these were rival ministers is anyone’s guess. After several days of cleansing, the young emperor was smoothly installed, and the entire Morris Empire effectively became a military dictatorship.

This council was the first gathering of ministers after the child emperor’s ascension, likely to be the last as well. The military leaders convened merely for the sake of formality, their sole purpose to officially declare war against the Kingdom of the Divine Light.

The council concluded amid a chorus of denunciations, and the Morris Empire announced to the world that it would wage war against the audacious Kingdom of the Divine Light, whose agents dared assassinate the Great Emperor Morris. Despite the chaos gripping the empire—officials everywhere anxious and distracted—the decision to go to war was unanimous.

Whatever the circumstances, the declaration restored a faint glimmer of morale among the populace—just a little. If they could crush the Divine Light Kingdom, all would rejoice and continue to bask in prosperity. But should they suffer a single defeat, the very survival of the Morris Empire would be thrown into doubt.

The military leaders understood well that the fate of the empire hung in the balance. Even before the declaration of war, fifty thousand of the empire’s most seasoned troops—veterans who had fought under the Great Emperor Morris—were mobilized from the standing army of one hundred thousand.

This iron legion marched in grand formation toward Istanbul and the borderlands with the Kingdom of the Divine Light. They knew that ten thousand cavalry of the Divine Light’s Holy Knights awaited them there, seemingly intent on exploiting the emperor’s death for hostile purposes. Naturally, they were chosen as the first target for vengeance.

With fifty thousand elite troops dispatched, only the royal guard of fewer than ten thousand remained to defend the capital. Across the provinces, less than fifty thousand soldiers—mostly new recruits—were left as the standing army. Should the expeditionary force of fifty thousand elites fall, only the capital would stand firm against the impending enemy onslaught.

News of the emperor’s assassination spread swiftly. The Grand Master of the Holy Knights of the Divine Light Kingdom delivered a call to holy war: the entire nation was informed by the church that, under divine guidance, a sacred campaign to eradicate heresy was imminent. With the protection of the Light God, victory was assured—or so they believed.

Their first target, naturally, was the Morris Empire, which refused to worship the Light God. Just as the Morris Empire had endless reasons to declare war on the Divine Light Church, so too was the church justified in punishing Morris. After the emperor’s death, the Grand Master exuded confidence, disregarding the loss of three Paladin Commanders and the mysterious disappearance of Sun Li. He ordered the ten thousand Holy Knight cavalry at the border to advance toward Istanbul, convinced that, despite their inferior numbers, the righteous army led by the Paladin Commanders would vanquish the fifty thousand Morris troops, just as they had once shattered the thirty thousand strong army of the English Empire.

Next, the Emperor of the Elven Empire responded swiftly, declaring war on Morris. The elves seemed in no hurry to attack their fated rival, instead methodically assembling their forces and supplies, issuing a nationwide mobilization.

The first contingent of fifty thousand elven soldiers and fifty thousand centaur troops slowly gathered at the Istanbul border. Though there was no sign of an imminent offensive, the entire Elven Empire began preparing for a protracted conflict, converting all production to a wartime economy.

The Emperor of the Madrid Empire, upon receiving notice from the Pope, gleefully assembled a force of one hundred thousand expeditionary troops, intending to seize a share of the spoils alongside the Holy Knights. Surrounded on two fronts, the Morris Empire—now bereft of its iron-fisted sovereign—was not expected to endure, even by the corpulent and self-serving Emperor of Madrid.

Yet before Madrid could muster its forces, the English Empire and the Frankonia Empire simultaneously issued final ultimatums, demanding humiliating territorial cessions and reparations under the pretense of compensation for damages inflicted by Madrid in the last war.

The Emperor of Madrid cursed bitterly upon reading them. In the previous conflict, under the mediation of the Divine Light Church, not a single coin had been paid in compensation; instead, two-thirds of Madrid’s territory and all its overseas colonies had been ceded away. The shamelessness of these bandits in concocting excuses was truly astounding.

No matter how timid, the Emperor of Madrid would never sign such a treaty designed to destroy him. Besides, he was a man of grand ambitions—if only his strength matched his aspirations, he would have long since led his armies in reckless battle.

Thus, the Emperor of Madrid abandoned the doomed Morris Empire and instead declared war on his old enemies, the English Empire and the Frankonia Empire. This time, he would not foolishly send his elite troops to die; instead, his one hundred thousand strong force was deployed at the entrance of the Illisia Peninsula, intent on leveraging the terrain to stall the advance of the two bandit empires. If he could hold out until the Holy Knights subdued Morris, he would have the confidence to challenge his foes once more.