Fantasy The Emperor of Destruction

"And you never knew," said Cunha. "I guess old Uncle William didn't want any hint of scandals staining the family legacy."

"You're a monster!" Margaret cried.

"Margaret, you haven't seen anything yet," said Cunha.

And then Cunha's hands shot out, and a blast struck Darvin in the chest. He collapsed to the ground, with a smoking hole in his chest. Before anyone could react, Cunha yelled, "Take them!"

His men started cutting Lord Farnham's men down. Most were taken by surprise, stabbed in the back. By the time Lord Farnham's men realized what was happening, half of them had been killed. The other half put up a valiant fight, but Cunha's men had a brutal fighting style that they simply couldn't match. Margaret watched as her own husband, interposing his body between her and an attacker, was stabbed from behind by another of Cunha's men. Farnham cried out and fell to the ground.

In moments Margaret was the only one left. Zebrah, the giant white woman with two sets of Wisdoms, grabbed her and put her giant sword to her throat. Thrasher sparkled like it was made of silver. Margaret felt the blade press against her.

"Wait!" Cunha cried. He looked around the room at the dead bodies, at his men, grinning wickedly, as the blood running clean across the room. Then he looked at Margaret.

"You killed them!" Margaret cried.

"Of course I did," said Cunha. "They were a threat. Are you a threat, Cousin?"

Cunha stared at Margaret for exactly five heartbeats. She felt Zebrah's blade pressed against her throat. Then he said, "No, I suppose you're not," he concluded, almost regretfully. He waved a hand. "Take her away."

Margaret was dragged from the throne room with tears in her eyes.

"Summon my officers," said Cunha, to one of his men.

"Your officers?"

"All of them," said Cunha. Then he turned to another soldier. "Summon the serving staff. And get me the Wizard Peine." This was going to be a moment he would truly enjoy.

The late Emperor's Generals and Captains were escorted into the Throne room, even as some of Cunha's soldiers were still dragging out the bodies of the late Lord Farnham's men. Anton Colaveras was the commander of the Empire's armed forces, and he was stunned by what he saw.

Cunha explained the situation calmly to him, how Emperor William had died but had anointed him to take his place as Emperor.

"And what about Prince Delos? What about Prince Darvin?" Colaveras asked. And then he watched as the bodies of Princes Delos and Darvin were dragged away.

"They had no objections," said Cunha.

Colaveras shook his head slowly. "Surely you don't expect me to agree to this."

Cunha stared at him for a long moment, and gave an irritating smile. "Surely not."

Death surged from his palms, splitting off into different directions. Colaveras and his men screamed as the great Power from the Roots of the Earth blasted through them. In moments there were only bodies.

The Royal Household Staff was next. As Cunha's men gathered them together, it didn't take them long to realize what was happening. They were held in an anteroom while Cunha dealt with Emperor William's officers. They heard their screams as they were killed with the Power of the Roots of the Earth.

"What's going to happen to us?" asked Doris, the Mistress of Maids.

"I don't know," said First Steward Magesto, his hand nervously playing over his rod of office. He was in charge of the Household Staff. Their safety and welfare was his responsibility. An elderly man, he had served Emperor William nearly his entire adult life.

"I heard them talking. They killed Emperor William," said Tarah, the Royal Bed Warmer. "I'll kill them."

"No!" Magesto whispered. "Tarah, you can't think like that."

"I'll do it!" said Tarah. "In their sleep, when they'll least expect it!" She had dearly loved Emperor William.

Magesto was about to argue further when the guards started to herd them into the throne room.

Cunha's men were still dragging out bodies when they arrived. They listened in silence, a trembling, fearful mass, as Cunha explained the situation to them. It was very clear to all what had just happened. When he was done, Magesto spoke the thought that was on everyone's mind.

"And what will become of us?"

"A good question," said Cunha, stretching out his throne. "You are servants. Servants are sheep, generally speaking. But sometimes there can be wolves hidden in the flock. A maid with a dagger behind her back. A cook putting poison in the stew. Is it worth the risk to keep you alive?" He paused. Each second that passed brought the servants closer to their inevitable fate.

"Kill them," said Selvanna, Cunha's wife. "Kill them all. It is the only way to be sure."

"Wait!" Magister cried.

Cunha looked at him expectantly.

Magister got down on one knee. "Please, spare the staff, I beg you," he said. "They are blameless. They are small folk with families. They are no threat to you. They will serve you without problem or complaint."

Cunha stared at Magister for a long moment. "And what of you?" he asked.

Magister swallowed. He knew he was a dead man walking. His connection to the old regime was too close. He had served Emperor William for over 30 years.

"You... you may do whatever you wish with me, Sire," said Magister. He held out his Rod of Office with trembling hands. Cunha made a small gesture and Zebrah came forward and plucked the Rod from his hands, and brought it to Cunha. Cunha played with it with his hands like a toy, and a small smile came to his lips.

"Whatever I like," Cunha mused. He turned to Zebrah. "Did you hear that, Zebrah? Magister here says I can do whatever I like with him."

Zebrah gave a rare smile, like a smirk.

Cunha handed the Rod back to Zebrah. "Well go ahead. Do whatever you like to him."

Zebrah's smile became broader and she stepped forward confidently. Magister trembled as he saw her pull her glistening silver sword from its sheath. Zebrah raised it into the air, and-

"No!" the Emperor cried.

Zebrah looked at Cunha.

"Don't you know by now when I'm telling a joke?" Cunha asks.

"Your humor continues to elude me," said Zebrah coldly, as the muscular white woman held her sword over Cunha.

"I want him alive," said Cunha. "Lower your weapon."

Zebrah lowered her sword.

"Tell me, Magister. If I spare your life, will you vouch for the loyalty of all your staff?"

Magister hesitated. "Yes."

Cunha noticed the hesitation. "Would you bet the wife of your wife... Doral, isn't it? Or the lives of your darling children, all on the loyalty of the staff?"

Magister looked at the terrified faces of the staff around him. He felt his heart beating heavily in his chest. "I... I would. All except Tarah."

"Tarah!" Cunha sat up quickly.

Tarah's eyes widened in horror

"She... she was greatly enamored by Emperor William. If you would allow her to retire, with dignity and honor, I am sure she would be of no trouble to you."

"Of course," said Emperor Cunha. "Zebrah. Retire the noble Tarah with dignity and honor."

And then Magister watched as Zebrah cut off Tarah's head, right in front of him. Blood spurted from her body as her headless corpse hit the ground.

"Was my humor clear to you then?" Cunha asked her.

"Perfectly," said Zebrah, wiping off Thrasher on Tara's dress.

"You're making progress, Zebrah," said Cunha admiringly. "Now tend to poor Magister here."

Magister, trembling looked up at Zebrah. The Alkemi Warrior stared at him without a trace of pity in her face. She raised her sword... and then sheathed it in its scabbard. Then she handed him back his Rod of Office.

"Good, very good," said Cunha. "Serve me well, and you all will live. Serve me poorly, and you will face the Wrath of the Lord of Compassion."

"The Lord of Compassion?" Magister asked. It felt good to hold the Rod of Office in his hand again, even as he watched Tarah's lifeless body being dragged away, leaving a trail of blood behind.

"You will see," Cunha said.

The Wizard Peine was brought to Cunha next, under heavy guard. Cunha had three Wizards of his own--Anchar, Ardis, and Archin, and he didn't feel the need for a fourth. Besides, he had never trusted Peine. The Wizard always seemed more concerned for his own interests than those of the realm.

But Cunha was a little surprised to see Peine enter the Throne Room. He would have thought that someone with Peine's legendary sense of self-preservation would have fled the Castle before now. The tall wizard with the flowing white beard had a humble expression on his face as he was led in, but Cunha wasn't fooled. Perhaps Peine thought he could ingratiate himself with the new regime. Well, if he thought that, Peine was about to experience the surprise of his life. Quite possibly, his very last one.

"So, we finally have you before us, Wizard," Cunha declared.

Peine knelt before him. "All hail Emperor Cunha."

Did he really think that would save him?

"Rise, Wizard," said Cunha.

Peine rose. "Not a Wizard, your Majesty."

"What?" said Cunha.

"I am simply a Wise Man. There is no magic, Sire. Only science."

"Kill him now and be done with it," said Zaragoth, playing with Cunha's left hand. On the other side of him, Selvanna played with his right.

"That would not be wise, Sire," said Peine.

"You are telling me what to do?" said Cunha, with mock indignation.

"Not at all. I am merely advising the Emperor, as I always have done."

"No longer," said Cunha. "I have others to advise me now." He stretched his arm lazier towards Anchar, Ardis, and Archin. To their side, Zebrah stood expressionless, waiting to execute the Emperor's commands.

"Let me kill him for you, Majesty," said Anchar.

"I can advise your Majesty in many ways," said Peine.

"All of which my own can do as well or better," said Cunha. Normally he enjoyed toying with his prey before striking. But he had yet to see the look of vulnerability in the Wizard's eyes. He very much wanted to see that before he died.

"Really?" said Peine. "And I suppose your men can advise you on the creation of manatas?"

"No one can create manatas!" said Anchar. "The art of creating manatas was lost centuries ago, in the Time Before."

"Not quite," said Peine. "I can create manatas, given pure Black Gold."

"You lie!" said Anchar.

"Additionally, I can identify nearly any manatas you come across from the Time Before," said Peine.

"My wizards can do that as well... Wizard," Cunha spat. But he smiled even as he spoke. Maybe there was a reason to keep him around.

"Oh?" said Peine. He fished around in his pocket, and withdrew something.

"And what is that?" Anchar asked.

"A manatas," said Peine, holding it up in his hand.

"You lie," said Anchar.

"Prove it," said Peine. He tossed the object to Anchar. Anchar caught it cautiously, and looked at it. It was a ring with a large red stone set into it with two wavy lines.

"Can you identify it?" Peine asked.

Two wavy lines?

"This... this cannot be," said Anchar, studying the ring as he turned it over.

"What is it?"

"It... from its markings, it would seem to be a ring of flying. But... there were only four such rings created, and all were lost hundreds of years ago, it is said."

"Don't believe everything that was 'said'," Peine advised. "I have much I can teach you. I can show you how that ring works."

"We don't need your help, Wizard," Anchar snapped. He took the ring and put it on his finger. Then he lifted his arms and willed himself to fly.

All eyes were on him. He jumped into the air... and landed on his feet. Nothing. Anchar was about to say something, when his hands started moving of their own accord. To his throat. Anchar started to choke himself.

"The study of manatas can be a dangerous business," said Peine, slowly walking forward.

Anchar started to feel the life draining out of his body as he choked himself to death. He fell to the ground, even as he continued to choke himself.

"Not something for the inexperienced, or a novice."

Anchar felt his life slipping away. His last sight before he died was of the Wizard, with the very white beard, shaking his head sadly.

"I'm so sorry this had to happen to your friend. I didn't know him but he seemed like a nice person," said Peine, reaching down and pulling the ring off of Anchar's lifeless finger. As he held it in his hand it changed, the red gem turning black and the symbol of a cat appearing on the gem's features. Peine gave a small smile as he put it in his pocket.

"Manatas are a very dangerous business. Best only dealt with by an expert," said Peine. He turned to the two remaining wizards. "Unless either of you feel up to it? I have other objects you might enjoy the challenge of identifying."

"Let the wizard do it," said Ardis, looking down at Anchar's body. Behind him Archan nodded vigorously.

"So... it seems you have a new lease on life, however improbably," said Cunha. He made a gesture, and the guards dispersed. "Very well, Wizard. Serve me loyally, and you will prosper. But play any of your little games with me, and you will find what happened to Anchar to be a love tap compared to what you will face."

"Of course. Majesty." Peine bowed low. As he walked out of the throne room, Cunha wasn't quite sure what had happened. The man had just entered his presence, killed one of his advisor, and then left with his advisor's job. This Peine would have to be watched, and quite closely.

The Lords of the Realm were called the following day, all of them, great and small, petty and grand. By this time the bodies had all been removed from the Throne room, though servants were still frantically scrubbing the decorative marble floors to remove the blood stains. The other major change was the symbol of the Empire. The sword and shield been replaced by the image of a fox's head. The foxhead could be seen now in banners all over the throne room, and one draped the walls behind the throne itself.

They had all heard what had happened, of course. Some of the Lords had loved Emperor William dearly; others had loved him merely because it was expedient. But all of the Lords, as it turned out, shared a common desire to live, and so they pledged their loyalty to the new Emperor without any dissent.

Cunha was pleased by this. He needed the support of the Lords, at least for now. His Household Army was not strong enough to fight all the Lords combined. But Cunha wasn't fool enough to believe that all those who pledged loyalty would stay that way. He could almost tell from the expression on their faces who would be trouble. Lord Morganstern in particular was frowning more than the rest, when Cunha introduced the Compassionate One to them.

"The Compassionate One?" Morganstern asked.

"The greatest most loving being you could ever imagine," said Cunha.

"Our people worship the Lord of Good, or the Goddess of Charity, as we have for generations," said Morganstern.

"No longer," said Cunha smoothly. "The Lord of Good is a charlatan, the Goddess of Charity a simple whore."

A gasp went up from the assembled Lords.

"The Lord of Compassion is your true Lord now," said Cunha. "You will worship him, and you will instruct your subjects to do so as well." He could see it in their faces, the anger, the confusion, the resentment. Some would comply. Some would pretend to comply. A few would resist. But not enough, not until it was too late.

It was not a revelation that brought Cunha to the Lord of Compassion, not exactly.

It was more like a firm set of Wisdoms and a very tight Sacred Gorge.

Cunha had been deposited on the Unknown Lands with the clothes on his back and a kick in his pride by Captain Waerhoven. "Begone with you!" he cried, as his crew shouted jeers at him.

"Just wait," said Cunha. "I will return someday. And when I do, I will have your head!"

"Not likely!" Waerhoven said, and the crews jeers grew louder.

Cunha didn't stay to watch the ship leave. It had been a long, two month journey to here, wherever here was. He would certainly not miss the Captain, or the crew.

Nor would he miss his Uncle William. The Emperor had been outraged when Tara's suicide note had been discovered. When Cunha had been brought before him, the Emperor had expected him to deny it, all of it.

But Cunha didn't. Even as each of his arms was restrained by a member of the Imperial Guard, he looked the Emperor in the eye and declared, "It is true. All of it. I spelunked Mother. And I killed Father, for getting in the way."

Cunha had laughed as Emperor William had trembled with rage. He called Cunha a bad seed. He said that Anber's candelabra had combined with the Womb of the World to produce a monstrosity like himself. He pronounced judgment, that Cunha was to be exiled forever.

Cunha had chuckled throughout. None of this concerned him. His smile disconcerted the Emperor the most.

"You'll see, Uncle. I'll be back someday," said Cunha. "Or may you won't be there to see it," he added, with a dark stare, as the guards hustled him away.

It didn't take long for Cunha to find a series of large villages in the Undiscovered Lands. He started to support himself by theft, then gambling, then more theft, moving up to robbery when he recruited two fine young lads named Kano and Puma with similar tastes and inclinations. They raided villages from their Hideout in the Deadly Forest. Puma had whined that the Deadly Forest was called that for a reason, because it was so dangerous, but Cunha had simply slapped him in the head and laughed, "Dangerous to you, maybe."

One evening when the fog was setting, Cunha was wandering, half-drunk, back to the campsite he shared with Puma and Kano. The mist was so thick it was hard to see. There was only one clear path in front of him, a path that twisted and turned. Cunha followed it drunkenly to a small cottage, deep in the forest. He found himself opening the front door.

The minute Cunha stepped through the front door, he felt like he was walking inside of a dream. Everything seemed remote and slowed down, more colorful than in real life. His jaw dropped at the bright colors of the cabin interior around him, as if it were all a very detailed painting. There was a woman, sitting in a chair faced away from him.

"Come closer," said a musical voice from the chair.

Cunha stepped forward, his mind and body in a daze.

She turned to face him, and suddenly Cunha realized he was looking at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She smiled as if she understood.

"I've been expecting you," she said, standing up suddenly. "My name is Selvanna." She was young, perhaps not more than two dozen harvests old, with long, dark hair, equally dark eyes, and her Wisdoms... Cunha couldn't take her eyes off of them.

Selvanna noticed. In one smooth move, she pulled off her dark blouse.

Cunha's eyes widened as he saw her Wise Ones. Selvanna was the wisest woman he had ever seen.

"You want... this....?" Selvanna asked suggestively, as she cupped her Wisdoms in her hands. She moved forward and pressed her lips against Cunha. He felt a surge of jizz through his body as he felt Selvanna's Wise Ones pressing against his chest.

In moments they were in bed, and she was juicing him. It seemed to Cunha that he spent days and days in that little cabin, filling Selvanna with his hot wax again and again. Each time he thought would be the last, until Selvanna roused him to do it all over again. Each spelunking blurred into the next, and Cunha lost all track of time. As he spelunked Selvanna, putting his candelabra inside her Sacred Gorge, Cunha heard a voice in his ear. A soft, commanding feminine voice.

"The Compassionate One."

Thrust, thrust.

"You love the Compassionate One."

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

"Open your heart to the Compassionate One."

Selvanna's eyes were dark and commanding; Cunha's were wide and vulnerable. It was as if while he was putting something inside of her, she was putting something inside of him. Each time Cunha deposited another load of hot wax from the tip of his candelabra inside Selvanna's Sacred Gorge, he felt something growing inside his mind, a new reality, a new way of being.

And when he had released into Selvanna for the last time, and collapsed, exhausted, into her arms, the last thing he remembered was holding her tightly, feeling her wetness against his, feeling her caressing his hair, hearing her mutter, "Good, good," in his ear.

When Cunha awoke, everything was clear. He got dressed and left without another word. Selvanna followed him. Cunha made his way back to the campsite. Kano and Puma were there. "Finally, the Great One returns!" said Kano sarcastically. He spotted Selvanna. "Hey, you brought us some dessert? Come here, baby-"

His voice was cut off by the blade which protruded from his back. Puma gasped and struggled to his feet, but he was far too slow. Cunha used the Power to burn a hole through his chest.

"Oooooh," Selvanna cried, hugging him. "I felt that," she said.

"You did?" said Cunha.

"Yes," said Selvanna. "Your jizz, just now... it was so sexy."

She was so perfect. Cunha dropped his bloody sword and kissed her.

And from that time on, Cunha focused his efforts on one mission: to build up an army which would enable him to retake Aridor and become its rightful Emperor. Selvanna aided him, training him in the use of the Power. She too had the Power, though not as strongly as he did, but she had much knowledge, and taught him to grow in different ways.

One time Cunha was amazed when Selvanna taught him how to open a gateway to other lands. He looked through the gateway and saw himself staring at the nearby village of Amena. "Amazing... and I could just walk through to it?"

"Yes," said Selvanna.

"You're incredible," said Cunha. "It must have been the will of Anber that I found you. He must have put a meat pie into the Global Womb which became you, and placed you here to guide me."

"That's very possible," Selvanna agreed.

In fact, Cunha's path was set long before he set foot in the Unknown Lands. Long before, in fact, he was even born. It really all began when his father Rogan filled his mother Tara with hot wax which grew into a meat pie which would eventually become Cunha.

While Tara was growing big and rotund, her friend Abby the herbalist suggested a food to help her make her meat pie grow big and round inside of her. "What is it?" Tara asked, taking a bite of it. She nearly gagged. It takes foul and rotten. She nearly spat it out.

"Chew... chew... swallow!" Abby said, in an unusually commanding voice.

Tara somehow got it down her throat. "What is it, Abby?"

"They are midnight plums," said Abby. "Try another piece."

"I don't know," said Tara.

"Eat!" Abby commanded, as she shoved another night plum into her mouth. Tara chewed and her expression changed. This one wasn't so bad. In fact, it tasted kind of nice. She looked up at Abby, amazed.

"See?" said Abby.

The third piece tasted great. By the fourth piece, Tara couldn't wait to finish the rest. "Wonderful!" Tara cried. "And this will help my meat pie grow?"

"In more ways than you can imagine," said Abby. "I'll bring you midnight plums to eat all during your pregnancy."

"Thank you Abby," said Tara, taking her friend's hand in her own.

"What are friends for?" Abby asked.

But in fact, it was not out of friendship that Abby did this. It was more out of compulsion.

The Lord of Compassion had tried for many hundreds of years to get a toe-hold in the family tree of the Impressionators. They were the most powerful family in Aridor, the race of the Emperors. The Lord of Compassion had had minor successes corrupting an Impressionator here and there, but soon realized he would do better if he could corrupt an Impressionator even as he was baking inside a meat pie.

And it just so happened that Abby's father was a devout follower of the Great Lord of Compassion. Abby's father helped Abby's mother Make the Change, a very different kind of Change than young people make when they start growing their own Phongfruit Forest or their first strands of Dillweed. No, this Change was much more fundamental to that. After Abby's father helped his wife make the change, her mother in turned helped Abby Make the Change, and she became a devout follower of the Compassionate Lord as well. So she was very much aware of what she was doing when she fed her good friend Tara midnight plums. By the time Tara gave birth to the hot, steaming meat pie that was to become Cunha, his fate had already been set in stone.

Cunha was a troublesome, rebellious boy almost from the moment he stopped being a slick meat pie inside of Tara's Sacred Gorge, prone to tantrums, whining, and even hitting. His parents were exhausted from disciplining him. When Cunha got older and started Making the Change, his behavior got even worse. He started bangsticking servants shortly after he had seen his 18th harvest; and then he turned his attentions to servants' daughters, caring little about how long since it had been since they had started to grow their own Phongfruit Forests. At first Cunha found it thrilling, to stick his growing candelabra inside a woman's Sacred Gorge, and filling her with his hot wax; but over time the novelty quickly wore off. He decided he needed something more exciting. More forbidden.

And then his eyes turned to his mother. Dear old Mom, whose large Wisdoms always stuck out from the top of her dresses. She wore low cut dresses to catch Father's eyes, but they also attracted Cunha's, soft and creamy looking but still firm, despite her age. Mother had always been a wise woman, but she had grown even wiser after giving birth to Cunha, so Father said.

And then there was her Pride cheeks. When Mother bent over in the kitchen, Cunha couldn't help but notice her Cheeks of Plenty. They looked so round, so firm, so squeezable.

And so Cunha decided he simply had to have her. One morning after Father had gone off to meet with some Lordlings, Cunha sent the servants away and made his way to his mother's bedroom. She was in the process of applying coloring to her face, but when she saw him in the mirror her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose skyhigh.

"Cunha?" she said, with disbelief in her voice. "What are you doing here without clothes on?"

Cunha was completely naked. He had the slender body of a young man. But between his legs his candelabra was stiff and pointing upwards. The scant patch of Dillweed above his candelabra only accentuated the wrongness of what Tara McMasters was looking at.

"I have come for you, Mother."

"What?" she said, in a high pitched voice.

Cunha came closer and grabbed her hand. "You, Mother, I want you." He stared into her eyes. Cunha's dark eyes felt like a pit, a pit of unimaginable depth. Tara McMasters felt herself falling into them. She felt Cunha's jizz rising out of his body, flowing into her, mixing with her ahmen, shaping her, transforming her into what he wanted her to be. What he needed her to be.

In a daze, she let Cunha pull her out of the chair and undress her. In moments she stood naked before her own son, her Wisdoms jutting forward, her teats proudly erect. And then Cunha pulled her down to bed and made her his.

Afterwards, it was as if it had never happened. And yet it did. Tara desired and feared to tell Rogan what had happened. She knew what he would do to the boy. She resolved to keep the matter to herself, and pretend it never happened.

But, then, two days later, it happened again. Cunha took her by the hand in the bedroom and she found herself undressing. It was something in his eyes, something so mesmerizing, she reflected as she found herself riding up and down on her son's candelabra, her Wisdoms bouncing this way and that, something which made her do that which she shouldn't be doing.

The third time they did it was in the evening. Tara had almost lost the will to resist. "No, Cunha," she said, even as Cunha slipped her dress off her shoulders. "Your father will be home soon."

"He'll just have to wait his turn, then," Cunha grinned.

And sure enough, Rogan caught them at it. At first when he came into the bedroom he simply stared. He didn't realize what he was seeing as he watched his own wife juicing his very own son, riding up and down on his candelabra without a worry in the world. But then he blinked, and snapped out of his daze, and roared, "What is going on here?"

He ran forward, and drew his dagger.

"No!" Tara screamed. Suddenly she felt an enormous surge of jizz in Cunha's body. A bolt of pure energy from the Roots of the Earth came out of Cunha's hand, and struck Rogan in the chest. Tara cried as Rogan went down. She dismounted Cunha's shaft and went to hug Rogan's body, sobbing wildly.

"Mother," said Cunha, in a very annoyed tone. "You haven't finished with me yet." He pointed to his stiff candelabra. "I still have some hot wax to give you."

Mother killed herself two days later. Cunha's only error was not intercepting the note first. Once Emperor William found out, everything else became inevitable.

"No!"

It was not Morganstern who was objecting. It was one of the other Lordlings, one so minor that Cunha didn't know his name. Cheltar, perhaps?

"No," the Lord repeated. "We will not worship this Compassionate One of yours. He is your Lord, not ours."

"I respect a man of principle," said Cunha, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the other Lords gathered in the Throne Room. He gave a curt nod to Zebrah.

Zebrah drew Thrasher and charged towards the Lordling. Everyone got out of the way. In mere seconds, the Lordling's head was no longer connected to his body.

"I want there to be peace and amity between us," the Emperor told the crowd.

Zebrah wiped the blood off her sword using the man's shirt.

"I want to create a new Empire, one that is compassionate and kind and caring," said the Emperor.

Lord Cheltar's body started to be dragged from the hall, leaving a trail of blood behind.

"I want a kinder empire, a gentler empire," said Cunha.

A soldier picked up Cheltar's head and, holding it by the hair, carried it out, following the body.

"From this day forth I shall be known not merely as the Emperor of Aridor, but the Loving Emperor."

"All hail the Loving Emperor!" said Cloaka, the commander of Cunha's soldiers.

"Hail the Loving Emperor!" a few of the Lords chanted.

"Hail the Loving Emperor!" More lords were chanting now.

"Hail the Loving Emperor!" It was contagious, like a disease. Everyone was shouting now. Cunha smiled and held up his hands benevolently. This was the beginning of a reign which would lead Aridor through peace and prosperity for the next thousand years.​