In the far east, in the heart of the kingdom of Tanggolia, the news of Chinua's capture reached the court, carried swiftly by a messenger dispatched by Lixin.
The Tanggolian Royal Court is designed to be a potent visual statement of the kingdom's immense wealth, ruthless power, and deep historical roots, particularly its ancestral connection to the harsh, gold-rich southern lands. Unlike the more restrained aesthetics of Ntsua-Ntu, the Tanggolian court embraces lavish, imposing grandeur.
The main audience chamber, known as the Great Golden Hall (unlike Hmagol's Hall of the Wolf King), is engineered to dwarf the visitor and project the emperor's absolute dominance.
The room is vast, high-ceilinged, and constructed primarily of rare, dark polished ironwood imported from the distant northern forests. The walls are not painted but covered in intricately carved bas-reliefs depicting the history of the Tanggolian clans—the great hunts, historic battles against rivals, and the subjugation of lesser tribes.
The wealth is displayed through gold—but not bright, polished gold. Instead, the wood carvings and supporting columns are heavily inlaid with thick sheets of hammered, dull gold, giving the room a weighty, ancient luster. These golden accents trace geometric patterns and stylized representations of the Sun, the Tanggolian symbol of power.
The floor is a mosaic of polished obsidian and brilliant white marble, arranged in complex, swirling patterns that lead the eye inevitably toward the throne.
Natural light is limited. The hall is primarily illuminated by hundreds of large, ornate bronze censers and oil lamps burning scented oils, casting deep shadows and highlighting the gold in a rich, warm, yet intimidating glow.
The air is thick with the scent of burning oils, spices, and cured leather, lending the hall a warm, primal, and somewhat overwhelming odor that speaks of both nomadic history and conquered wealth.
The messenger, weary from his long, perilous ride across the borders, knelt before Emperor Xin Jian. Jian, a man of peace, looked down at the messenger. All he wanted was news of Lixin's safety. As the kingdoms were currently in an era of peace, he refused to wage war on other kingdoms or bring war home, to make his people suffer.
On the other hand, sitting on a step lower than the emperor, sat Xin Jianping, a man with a lean, wolfish face and eyes that held generations of ancestral resentment toward Hmagol. He was seated upon a massive, carved golden chair that belonged solely to him. Sitting across from him was Geming, the Crown Prince of Tanggolia and the son-in-law of Batukhan.
The messenger gasped out the details: "Your Majesty, the Eastern General of Hmagol, Princess Chinua, has been captured by Prince Dzhambul—Princess Consort Ankhtsetseg's royal brother. She is now being marched as a prisoner toward Ntsua-Ntu, alongside her strategist, Hye."
A predatory smile, slow and deliberate, spread across Jianping's face. He turned to Xiyan, his son sitting beside him, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph.
Jianping looked up at the King, his face alight with ferocious strategic triumph, and his voice was a low, guttural growl of satisfaction.
"Your Majesty, Lixin has succeeded. Prince Dzhambul has ripped the heart out of Hmagol's best defense, exactly as planned. Chinua was the General who kept the border regions loyal and the Eastern armies disciplined. Now, with her gone and heading for punishment, the current Crown Prince will be left utterly exposed, as all military power of the North and East will consolidate under Prince Dzhambul."
Jianping paused, allowing the gravity of the internal Magoli collapse to settle before detailing the Tanggolian move.
"Furthermore, when the moment comes for Hmagol's Eastern soldiers to attack Ntsua-Ntu, their foolish King, Batukhan, will inevitably call Mönkhbat back to defend the capital. That will be our moment."
His tone became sharp, utterly decisive. "The time is now to prepare for a full assault on Lao-Da Pass and seize the southern border once and for all. If Lao-Da Pass falls, the Chono Gate will inevitably fall, and our soldiers will march deep into Hmagol's southern land to retake what rightfully belongs to us!"
"Father," Geming interjected, his voice carrying a note of caution. "I understand that we have always wanted to retake the southern part of Hmagol, but right now we have signed a peace treaty. If we are to go back on that treaty, it means we are announcing open war against them. If that happens, who will be willing to form an alliance with us in the future?"
Jianping, dismissing Geming's concerns with a scoffed, looking at Geming with a deeply dissatisfied expression. He saw caution as weakness.
"Crown Prince," Jianping said, his tone laced with contemptuous authority. "Why are you afraid that no one will ally with us in the future? If we take Hmagol, which land will dare to refuse us?"
Geming did not back down, despite his Royal Uncle's obvious displeasure. He remained respectful, but his voice was firm, focusing on the practical dangers of the General's ambitious plan.
"Royal Uncle," Geming began, using the familiar, familial address to remind Jianping of his duty. "What you say may be right to some degree, but to put in a full-scale assault on the Hmagol southern border is not an easy task as you think."
He pressed his point, shedding light on Jianping's impulsive rushing into making a decision.
"Lao-Da Pass is one of the strongest defensive positions in the entire region, built on mountainous terrain. It is manned by General Mönkhbat's best soldiers—soldiers who are hardened, not simply against us, but against the elements. If Batukhan calls Mönkhbat back to the capital, he will not leave the Pass defenseless; he will leave behind the necessary reserves and captains to execute an orderly, protracted withdrawal, pinning down our main force."
Geming leaned forward, his eyes meeting his uncle's. "An open declaration of war against Hmagol now means we face them head-on, giving them a common enemy to unite against. Wouldn't it be wiser to let the Eastern armies reach Ntsua-Ntu first, confirming Batukhan's call for Mönkhbat's retreat, before we commit our entire army? Rushing in before the Pass is truly vacated could lead to devastating losses and a stalled offensive."
Emperor Jian leaned forward on his great, Sun-adorned throne, his gaze sweeping over the gathered court. The silence in the Grand Hall was absolute as they waited for his final decision.
He addressed his brother, Jianping, and his son, Geming, acknowledging both arguments with the gravity of a true ruler.
"Both my brother and my son speak with wisdom, though focused on different horizons," Jian said, his voice deep and resonating. "Jianping, your ambition to seize the moment is the heart of a warrior. Geming, your caution regarding the treaty and the political future is the mind of a King."
He then laid out the threat he saw, justifying his hesitation to his war-hungry brother.
"We proceed with caution because the risk is not merely a difficult battle at the Pass. The risk is total annihilation."
Jian stood slowly, an imposing figure on the dais. "The plan hinges entirely on two assumptions: that Dzhambul's coup will succeed flawlessly, and that King Batukhan will be foolish enough to leave his southern fortress completely unguarded."
"But consider the counter-move," Jian continued, his voice hardening. "If we announce our attack prematurely, we risk triggering the full force of Hmagol's command. If Batukhan realizes the true extent of Dzhambul's conspiracy, he has a simple, devastating recourse: forgiveness and alliance."
The court gasped softly at the implication.
"If Batukhan grants Chinua and her Eastern armies pardon, and allows Mönkhbat to remain, we will face a confluence of power we cannot defeat. Imagine: Mönkhbat and his Musian allies attacking our flanks from the east, the Western commander Chimgee attack our West, and Chinua's disciplined Eastern forces striking at our center through Chono Gate."
Jian swept his hand across the air, describing the path of the devastating counter-attack. "That would not be a victory for Tanggolia, but a full-scale assault from Hmagol and the Umusa kingdoms—a conflict that would crush us and destroy the fragile peace we secured in the north. I will not trade a guaranteed victory for a chance at martyrdom."
"Therefore, the final order is this..." Jian began, his gaze sharp and unwavering, demanding absolute obedience.
"We will not act on mere probability. We wait until Lixin sends a message that two conditions have been met with certainty."
He held up two fingers, emphasizing the necessity of dual confirmation.
"Frist, Chinua is awaiting execution. Second, Mönkhbat has definitively moved his main forces to Ntsua-Ntu to prevent a Hmagol civil war, thus leaving Lao-Da Pass strategically vulnerable."
"Only then, when Hmagol's strength is split and its primary defense is withdrawn, will we attack. Our troops will mobilize now, but they will remain poised on the border, hidden, ready to strike the moment those two signals arrive. Patience, gentlemen, guarantees the South."
Jianping looked at Emperor Jian with a deeply displeasing expression. Though he recognized the Emperor's logic, the General was restless and saw the delay as a forfeiture of momentum. He offered a curt, low bow, his frustration barely contained.
"As Your Majesty commands," Jianping stated, the words clipped and unsatisfying to his own ears.
After the court session ended, he immediately left the Grand Hall. The General returned to his own compound, his mind already churning, determined to find a way to accelerate the timeline.
Upon arrival, he gathered his two sons, Xiyan and Zhiyuan, in his private study. Jianping wasted no time on pleasantries.
"The Emperor is paralyzed by caution," Jianping stated, pacing before them. "He will wait for an impossible confirmation while Hmagol's internal war could resolve itself. We cannot allow this opportunity to slip away."
Jianping slammed his fist down on the table, making the bronze ornaments rattle. "We will not commit the entire Tanggolian army, but we will initiate the attack now. We will secure our foothold, and then the Emperor will be forced to follow our lead."
He fixed his gaze on his sons. "We have the Razaasia alliance. Xiyan, you will be the first to meet Koorush the moment he returns from the north. You are to coordinate the immediate movement of the entire Razaasian army south, to the border of Da-Lao Pass. Do this with complete secrecy; they must be positioned to strike immediately."
"Zhiyuan," Jianping continued, turning to his younger son, "you will ready the initial wave of our own forces—the vanguard and siege equipment. Ensure complete operational secrecy. We will attack the southern border first, using the allied forces to test the Pass's defenses. When the first breach is made, we press the advantage."
Jianping's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Emperor commanded patience; we will give him a successful action instead."
Zhiyuan looked from his father to his older brother, his brow furrowed in confusion and alarm. The shift in command was jarring, and the disobedience carried terrifying political weight.
"Father," Zhiyuan asked, his voice low with worry, "what if the Emperor Jian decided that our attack against the Hmagol southern border defies his order and he seeks to punish us for that? What are we going to do?"
Xiyan looked at his brother, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He found Zhiyuan's caution amusing and misplaced.
"Why are you afraid of him?" Xiyan scoffed, his eyes gleaming with dangerous ambition. "Whatever we do, he will not punish us, or he will be unable to punish us since we hold the largest military power in the East," he said with a chilling smile.
Xiyan's voice dropped, carrying the true weight of their planned rebellion. "If he really decided to punish us, then Tanggolia will no longer be one Kingdom under one ruler, but a situation where we would have two kingdoms, or two rulers—one in the West, and one in the East."