The Dirrium nobility act 6: Submission
The "Treaty of Eternal Sovereignty" was a masterpiece of linguistic deception. To Prince Kaelen, it was a document that legitimized his "reclamation" of the Dirrium throne. To Leornars, it was the deed to a nation.
The signing took place in the Royal Academy's inner sanctum. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and the low hum of the Deep-Iron Golems standing guard at the door—their eyes glowing with a faint, violet light that Kaelen mistook for loyalty.
"The terms are exactly as we discussed, Prince," Leornars said, smoothing the scroll over the stone table. "You are recognized as the High Protector of the Dirrium Territories. Your family name remains on the coinage. Your face remains on the banners."
Kaelen scanned the text, his heart racing. "And the 'Administrative Clause' in Section 8? It mentions Avangard's 'logistical support' for the next fifty years."
"A formality," Leornars replied smoothly, leaning back into the shadows. "You are a warrior, Kaelen. A king of the field. You shouldn't be burdened with the minutiae of tax collection, sewage management, or trade regulation. Avangard will handle the... tedious mathematics of ruling. You simply lead."
Kaelen looked at the pen—a silver quill provided by Leornars. He felt a surge of pride. He was doing what his father couldn't. He was securing the future.
"For the glory of Dirrium," Kaelen declared, pressing the quill to the parchment.
As the ink dried, the violet glow in the Golems' eyes flickered once, then settled into a steady, predatory pulse. Leornars rolled up the scroll with a finality that sounded like a coffin lid closing.
Three days later, the "reclamation" hit a snag. A border dispute with a neighboring duchy required Kaelen to deploy his new legion. He stood atop the command rampart, the sun glinting off his gold-inlaid armor.
"Legion One! Advance!" Kaelen roared, pointing his sword toward the enemy lines.
The Deep-Iron Golems didn't move. They stood like statues of obsidian, their massive shoulders etched with the runes Leornars had "helped" Kaelen activate.
"I said advance!" Kaelen screamed, his voice cracking. He turned to his captain. "Why aren't they responding? Is the mana-link broken?"
"I don't know, Highness! The controllers... they aren't vibrating."
"Allow me," a calm voice drifted from behind them.
Leornars stepped onto the rampart, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. He didn't look at the battlefield; he looked at Kaelen with the clinical gaze of a scientist watching a failing experiment.
"They are responding perfectly, Kaelen," Leornars said. "They are simply waiting for an authorized command."
"I am the command! I signed the treaty! I am the High Protector!"
Leornars tilted his head. "Section 8, Paragraph 14 of that treaty, Prince. 'All military assets utilizing Avangard technology remain under the final ethical oversight of the Grand Administrator to ensure regional stability.'"
"Ethical oversight? What are you talking about? Attack them!" Kaelen lunged toward the nearest Golem, slamming his sword against its leg. The blade shattered into a dozen pieces. The Golem didn't even flinch.
Leornars clicked his silver pen.
"Unit 01. Restrain the dissident."
The Golem, which had been as still as stone for days, moved with a terrifying, hydraulic hiss. Its massive metal hand shot out, pinning Kaelen against the stone battlement by his throat. The Prince's feet dangled inches off the ground, his face turning a panicked shade of purple.
"You... traitor..." Kaelen wheezed.
"Traitor? No," Leornars said, stepping closer until his face was inches from the Prince's. "I am just Leornars, and I'm doing what noone will do . And I have found your leadership... bankrupt. You didn't want to save Dirrium, Kaelen. You wanted to play with dolls. These just happen to be my dolls."
Leornars turned his back on the Prince, looking out at the terrified enemy army that was now watching the "High Protector" being choked by his own guards.
"The war is over," Leornars announced, his voice amplified by a mana-glitch that made it sound like the earth itself was speaking. "Dirrium has entered a state of mandatory peace. The Golems will now begin the process of 'Civil Stabilization.' Any soldier who does not drop their weapon in the next ten seconds will be considered an 'imbalance' and removed."
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter.
The weapons hit the ground like rain.
Leornars looked at the Golem holding Kaelen. "Drop him. He has a lot of paperwork to sign tonight. Being a figurehead for a vassal state is a very busy job."
Kaelen hit the stone floor, gasping for air, his eyes wide with a realization that would haunt him for the rest of his short, gilded life. He wasn't a king. He was a mascot.
"Stacian," Leornars called out.
"Yes, My Lord?" she appeared, already holding a fresh ledger.
"Inform the Northern Empire that the Silt-Pass and the Kutomia territories are now under a single management. The audit of the South is complete. We move to the East by dawn."