"What is our next step, Abo? Shall we begin the war to unify all of Kislev now?"
"If we are to go to war, do we need a proper justification? You promised the lords that you would remain a law-abiding arms dealer and not interfere in Kislev's political struggles."
Mikhail looked at the massive war machine before turning to Perturabo, his voice tinged with confusion. The old priest no longer knew what his genius foster son was thinking; he only knew that Perturabo's choices, made after deep reflection, often shocked everyone.
"Mr. Mikhail, why are you being so dogmatic?" Perturabo shook his head slightly. "They have already handed me the excuse. The stupidity and weakness of these nobles have accelerated their own demise."
"What do you mean, Abo? How did they give you an excuse?" Mikhail was bewildered. As a mortal, his thoughts could not keep pace with Perturabo's rapid mental processing.
"The assassin Savinkov. His defection handed me the 'casus belli.' Once he stands forth to confirm that the contract he received was real—that the nobles ordered my assassination—it will prove they intended to murder me."
"Under those circumstances, declaring war on them becomes entirely reasonable. No one can condemn a man seeking vengeance against those who tried to kill him." Seeing the lingering confusion on Mikhail's face, Perturabo explained further.
"I see. Then this truly is the will of the heavens!" Mikhail nodded, marveling at the explanation. He had once worried that Perturabo was a man lost only in his inventions, but his foster son's political insight proved those fears redundant.
"So, your plan is to lead the Streltsi and crush the old nobility who sought your life? To begin your grand work of unifying Kislev?" Mikhail asked after a moment of silence.
"No, Mr. Mikhail. I must perfect these war machines first—at least until they can be deployed as supporting fire for every single battalion of the Streltsi. I will not start a war prematurely." Perturabo shook his head and gave a negative reply.
"I do not fear the old nobles. Even if they all attack at once, I am confident the Streltsi can defeat them. However, I still need a little time. During this period, I can refine my plans to achieve the greatest victory with the fewest casualties." Perturabo added, his voice returning to its usual tone of confidence.
"I understand. Since you have a plan in mind, this old man will stop prying. I leave everything to you, Abo." Mikhail nodded.
"Indeed. But before that, I must speak with Savinkov. He is the most vital link in my plan." Perturabo narrowed his eyes, a scheme already taking shape in his mind.
Inside Perturabo's Office
"Lord Perturabo, for what purpose have you summoned me?"
Boris Savinkov, the assassin who had recently defected, stood in the office. Despite his new allegiance, he maintained a polite but cold distance from his master, acting as an equal rather than kneeling like the other citizens of Perturabograd.
"Boris Savinkov, your choice to abandon those nobles and follow me was a wise one. I am pleased." Perturabo spoke as he looked at the cold-faced man.
"However, since you have chosen to serve me, I expect you to perform a task for me—as a gift of introduction and a sign of your loyalty."
"I understand. What do you wish for me to do, Lord Perturabo?" Savinkov nodded. The request was expected.
"I wish to know exactly who hired you to assassinate me. I intend to have my revenge."
"I see, Lord Perturabo. But you do not truly need to ask for such specifics." Savinkov smiled, quickly grasping his new sovereign's intent.
"Explain." Perturabo looked interested, wanting to see if Savinkov had read his thoughts.
"I can sense your ambition to rule all of Kislev. From everything I have seen in Perturabograd, your talents and goals extend far beyond this single city."
"You want to use the assassination plot as a pretext to launch a conquest that brings the entire world under your rule. If that is the case, why bother identifying specific employers? You could simply accuse all the lords, branding them all as co-conspirators in the murder plot."
"That way, no one will condemn you for declaring war on everyone at once." Savinkov raised an eyebrow as he laid out the logic.
"Heh. You are a clever man. Yes, that is exactly my intent! My command to you is this: return to where you came from, lead your Combat Organization, and remain on standby. Wait for my next order!" Perturabo smiled and issued the command.
"As you command, my master." Savinkov remained politely calm.