Chapter 1355: Repercussion (1)

Steam rose from the smooth stone floor in a misty, grey-white cloud.

Of all the grand structures within the Sun Palace, the bathhouse was perhaps the greatest marvel yet. Nine massive marble pillars held the towering vaulted ceiling up, their pale stone veins glowing in the heat, likely the only thing preventing the heavy architecture from collapsing in on itself. Once, the Sultan, his family, and his inner circle of viziers would take refuge in the humid warmth dripping from the earth, bathing themselves in the deep, tiled pools at the far end of the hall.

Still, the building was already betraying a distinct lack of care. From the cracks in the ancient masonry, thick mats of moss and wild ivy were sprouting, eagerly laying claim to what men were now ignoring. It had certainly seen far happier times, built long before every bastard with a sword was trying to cut his neighbor’s throat across Azania.

Now, instead of a sand-emperor taking refuge in its warmth alongside his perfumed concubines, it was the Sea-King sprawled on all fours. He leaned his aching back against the heat-warmed stone of the far wall, his bare feet dangling in a pool that he knew for a fact was filled with cold water. There was undoubtedly a grand, poetic comment to be made about the current miserable state of Azania in that contrast.

If Cain gave a single shit, that is.

He had far bigger, far uglier things to worry about. You would think him a common slave by how hard his mind was working. He had possessed a fine, delicate plan, a quiet strategy laying there, progressing nicely, and then life had promptly decided to bend him over and fuck him roughly without so much as a drop of oil.

His crooked hip cracked back and forth in its socket with a dull, sickening pop. Aye, he thought bitterly, I already have a fairly clear idea of what getting fucked feels like.

It had been years since he had last been visited by prophetic visions. He didn’t know whether he should take the silence as a quiet encouragement from the Sea-God for his ongoing labors, or perhaps as a terrifying sign that crowning his younger brother as Salt King was against the divine will, meaning he had lost his god’s blessing for good.

Of the two possibilities, Cain desperately hoped it was the former. It would be convenient to still possess his god’s favor when he finally slit the old hag’s throat.

But before he could plunge steel into her ribs, he first had to maneuver himself into a position where Blake would have no choice but to spare his life afterward.He was certainly no fucking martyr.

He needed time. Say what you will about Blake’s booming arrogance, but the man was not so foolish as to leave his precious witch unprotected. Cain had to find the exact right moment to strike. He had to play this game smart, considering he could no longer play it strong.

The Sea-God would just have to wait at Cain’s fucking leisure. Nobody bothered to mention that making a man a cripple meant he now had to take a full ten minutes just to walk to the privy and piss.

"Brother!"

The voice echoed off the marble pillars, a booming, victorious intonation. Blake had returned. Three months he had been away from his proud jewel of a city, and now, like the legendary Red Fish returning from his slaughter-raids on Romelia, the grand conqueror was back. Two armies laid low in the dust, and three more wealthy cities forced onto their knees to bow before their new king.

"If it isn’t the favorite son of Victory himself," Cain forced out, dragging his lips into a sharp, bitter smile as he hauled himself upward. His iron-tipped cane thundered heavily against the wet stone floor. "Three full years at war, and yet not a single new scar on that pretty face?"

Blake grinned, throwing his shoulders back. "I know, right? Men have been swinging iron at my neck for years, and yet the god refuse to leave a scratch for his best."

"How... remarkably lucky," Cain allowed smoothly. He had fought in precisely one battle, dispersed on the crashing waves, spit back out by the Sea-God as a shattered, broken husk of a man. He caught Blake’s eyes lingering on the left side of his face. "Can you kindly stop staring at my eye? I’m feeling rather sensitive about it today."

He didn’t have his leather eye-cover on today. Without it, he felt thoroughly naked.

"Sorry," Blake muttered, shifting his gaze slightly. "Though... you do look much better with the patch, brother."

"Aye, I know. There are mirrors in my chambers, too." Cain grunted as he sank onto the stone bench beside his brother, his hip screaming in raw, agonizing pain the moment his weight shifted. Could the divine bastards not have blessed me with something that didn’t involve nightmarish dreams and ruined joints?

Cain massaged the ruined flesh of his thigh, looking up through his good eye. "Tell me... does your Fire God accept new believers these days?"

Blake’s sun-kissed forehead creased, his dark brows raising high. "You would renounce the Salt Faith?"

"Why the hell not? It certainly worked out brilliantly for you," Cain scoffed. "Tell your witch to give me a proper pair of legs, and I’ll cheerfully worship a side of bacon if I have to."

"You ought not make light of the gods so casually, Cain. Especially ours."

"Or what? The Sea-God already tried his best to drown me, didn’t he?" Cain snapped, his voice tight. "What, do I possess something innate that evokes deep disgust in the divine, just as I do with mortal men? Perhaps your Fire God won’t have me either. Perhaps if I throw myself into his sacred pyre, I’ll just crawl back out as a burn-scarred idiot with a constant drool." He slurred his words mockingly, letting his head loll to the side. "W-w-would you still l-l-love me then, brother?"

Blake’s face set like iron, finding not a single scrap of humor in the display.

"Oh, stop being so fucking serious," Cain muttered, straightening his posture with a heavy wince. "I had to navigate a dozen flights of damp stone stairs from the main palace just to reach this bathhouse. That may be of little weight to a grand conqueror like you"he poked his ruined thigh with a sharp index finger"but it is a bloody ordeal for me. I’d say stairs are my true arch-nemesis now. If I were ever given the chance to torture a man, I’d track down whoever invented steps. I think I’ve earned the right to make jest of whatever god I please, given how thoroughly crippled they’ve made me. Can I not?Do i have your leave for that pleasure of mine?"

Blake let out a long, tired sigh. "I would rather we attend to our actual business. Is the situation as serious as you make it out to be?"

The cocky, invulnerable tone Blake usually wore like plate armor was noticeably absent. It seemed the harsh reality of governing was finally daunting the dauntless.

"Shouldn’t you be telling me?" Cain replied, his tone dripping with sour irony. He couldn’t help himself. It was natural for a younger brother to seek counsel and aid from the eldest, but he and Blake were anything but a normal pair of siblings.

"You assured me your men in the south were iron-clad, utterly trusted, and skilled," Cain continued, leaning heavily on his cane. "You know those little men wrapped in fur with a tail as third arm, who dwell in the deep forests to the south of ours that likes bananas? I am entirely confident I could achieve finer results with a dozen of those than with those mongrel men of yours."

Blake made no move to defend his captains, staring quietly into the misty air

Cain had neither the time nor the patience left to play these childishgames. He let out a harsh, rasping sigh, his good eye locking onto his brother’s profile.

"Let yourself be led by a pack of mangy dogs, Blake, and you will die like one. In our case, we are now forced to pay the heavy consequences of our minions’ pathetic failures."

"There must be something we can do," Blake tried, his brow furrowing as he reached for the easy confidence that usually served him so well on the battlefield.

Cain whipped his head around, throwing an angry, venomous glare through his single good eye. "What? Do you actually have a plan rattling around in that heroic skull of yours?"

Blake fell silent for a moment, staring down into the misty pool as his mind worked. "We press him to silence," he said finally, his voice taking on the sharp, decisive cadence he used when commanding a vanguard. "Kroll’s brother. He is the only one left who truly knows the truth. We invent some plausible bullshit reason and stick to it religiously. Threaten him, beg him, or drown the bastard in silver, it doesn’t matter how we manage it. So long as we maintain his silence, nothing changes. The men stay in line, the illusion holds, and we can keep at our road."

"Too late for that," Cain rasped flatly.

"What?"

"’Too late for this , too late for that ’, that should be our family’s official fucking house words," Cain sneered, slamming his iron-tipped cane against the marble floor until the sharp crack echoed off the nine towering pillars. "Kroll knows of it too now. And that stubborn, bloodthirsty animal will hardly be stopped from burying his war-axe straight into the chest of our dear scapegoat. Who, I feel compelled to remind you, is currently floating down the river completely unaware of the trick we played on him.And I fear he will be most wrath with us, once he learn of it."

Cain leaned forward, his knuckles turning white around the neck of his cane, his scarred face twisted in dark amusement. "So, let us map out your brilliant victory, shall we? The moment Kroll splits his skull, we alienate a full quarter of our grand fleet. They’ll pack up their oars, spit on your golden banners, and sail clean over to our enemies’ side before we even have the chance to make our first real throw.And of course with Wave-breaker’s fleet there will be all of his fucking iron."

The humid steam rising from the hot spring was starting to feel stifling, thick and suffocating in the enclosed bathhouse.

Cain gazed into the cold water at his feet, his good eye burning with cold, unvarnished malice as he glared up at his royal brother. "So I ask you again, my victorious Salt King... do you have any other remarkably wise plans to share with your subject?"