[RECOMMENDATIONS
Forged in Blood and Steel
The Path of the Basileus]
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PREVIOUSLY.
["The present continental regions shall unite, expanding inward across the jungles and plains. To achieve maximum efficiency and prevent a duplication of duties, we will streamline the administrative apparatus. From the current twelve regions, including the two federal ones, we shall become solely eight macro-regions."
A fresh murmur of astonishment, this time laced with anticipation and ambition, rippled across the table. Reducing the number to eight meant that the continental governors who retained their seats would command colossal territories and unimaginable resources.
The initial dread of eighty million Europeans began to shift, tempered by the promise of unprecedented expansion beneath the banner of the Suaza Kingdom. The map of the world was changing, and we would be the ones holding the quill.]
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Year 13 of the SuaChie Calendar, Fourth Month (June 1495).
Dawn City (Cuba), Federal Region of Floating Islands (FRFI).
Great Hall, Council House.
The murmurs that had flooded the Great Hall began to shift. It was no longer the tense whisper of fear of the unknown, but the electric hum of anticipation. I remained standing, resting my fingertips against the polished mahogany, allowing the concept of the eight macro-regions to take root in their minds.
"I have not made this decision lightly, nor have I drawn these borders upon political whims," I continued, raising my voice enough to let it resonate against the hall's limestone walls. "I have spent the last few months sequestered with the finest geographical minds in the Suaza Kingdom. We have delineated the boundaries of these eight macro-regions using the very barriers the earth provides us: impregnable mountain ranges, deep-channeled rivers, and dense jungles."
I walked slowly around the head of the table, fixing my gaze on each of the governors.
"These natural divides will ensure a frictionless flow for both internal and external trade. They will facilitate a vastly more efficient governance and, above all, they will safeguard our long-term cultural integration. There will be no border disputes when it is an abyss of stone that dictates where one region ends and another begins."
The murmuring in the room swelled, this time tinged with undeniable excitement. Ambition gleamed in the eyes of many; to govern one of these eight macro-regions meant wielding a power that would rival that of the European monarchs we now considered allies.
Seeing that they were ready for the next step, I raised a hand and gave a sharp nod to two council aides waiting by a massive wooden frame at the far end of the hall, draped in a heavy linen canvas.
"So that you may grasp the sheer magnitude of what we are building, I have ordered our new reality to be put to canvas."
The aides pulled the ropes, and the canvas hit the floor with a heavy, muffled thud.
The ensuing silence was absolute, almost reverential.
Before them was not some simple cartographic map cluttered with tedious lines and clustered names. It was a painting. A colossal work of art crafted by my wife, Nyia.
The level of detail was breathtaking, the product of weeks of labor in which she seamlessly blended the explorers' geographical data with her innate talent—the very talent that had captivated me since we were children.
The image depicted the continent from a perspective impossible for the era, as if a celestial bird, or the gods themselves, were gazing down upon the Great Quyca from the heavens.
The mountain ranges rose up, painted in neutral tones and grays, shaded to such perfection that the stone appeared three-dimensional.
The immense plains and jungles were rendered as dense tapestries of vibrant green that practically allowed you to smell the dampness of the leaves.
The great rivers, which would now serve as unyielding borders, slashed across the canvas like veins of electric blue that immediately commanded the eye.
And in the north, floating amidst a deep, majestic blue, rested the islands of the Federal Region (FRFI).
I had drawn the first maps myself during the kingdom's formation back in Year 5, with a precision that, at the time, was considered divine magic. But this… Nyia's work existed on an entirely different echelon, imbued with a soul that my cold memories of 21st-century satellites could never hope to replicate.
I glanced sideways at Xiua. The weathered governor of the Northwest Region and Nyia's father had his mouth slightly agape, his eyes locked on the canvas, entirely utterly spellbound by his daughter's capability.
However, the magic of the moment was soon shattered by the most analytical mind in the room. My sister, Chuquy, was the first to shake off the awe. She straightened in her chair, her sharp eyes darting from the painting to me.
"It is beautiful, Leader Chuta," Chuquy said, her solemnity cutting through the hall's dreamy atmosphere. "But beauty does not rule. If we condense the administration to a mere eight macro-regions, the territory under each governor's command will be monumental. Do we not risk losing control over the peripheries? Managing such immense lands is a perfect breeding ground for inefficiency and rebellion."
The question hung heavily in the air, weighty and pertinent. The other governors roused from their trance and looked to me expectantly.
I could not help but smile. It was a genuine relief to see that the leaders of my kingdom were more concerned with the viability of governance than with the individual loss of their own power. They were thinking like true statesmen.
"A sharp observation, Governor Chuquy," I replied with an approving nod. "And you are entirely correct. If control were to end at the regional capitals, the system would collapse. But the governance will not die there. Each macro-region must administer direct sub-management. We will divide the map into much more precise units: municipalities."
Half an hour later, the Great Hall resembled a cauldron of strategists.
Following my detailed breakdown of how the municipal system would function, the faces of Chuquy, Xiua, Fagua, Foza, Kamui, and the rest of the governors reflected a mixture of surprise and profound calculation.
They had realized that this sub-division, though situated at the base of the pyramid of power, was the true key to development. It would allow leaders to focus on smaller tracts of land, enforcing laws and applying resources and education in a microscopic, hyper-efficient manner.
But the true bait—the brilliant political lure I had cast before them—was autonomy.
"It will be you, the governors, who establish the boundaries of these municipalities," I had assured them. "You will have the strict guidance of our geographical experts to maintain natural logic, but the final decision regarding the distribution of local power will fall to your offices."
I was handing them genuine dominion over their territories, cementing their loyalty to the new system. Furthermore, I made it clear that gubernatorial elections, traditionally evaluated on individual merit, would now be deeply influenced by the backing of these new municipalities.
A municipal ruler who achieved prosperity in their small parcel of land could ascend to regional governor. The prospect of political ascension, of rewarded merit, was intoxicating.
From the right wing of the table, Kamui raised his heavy hand. The governor of the current Northeast Region—a man forged in the sweltering humidity of the jungle and responsible for attracting and unifying thousands of tribes beneath the protective shadow of the Suaza banner—wore a deep scowl.
"Leader Chuta," Kamui interjected, his deep voice resonating like the groaning of an ancient tree. "I have noted the projected expanse for the easternmost region... Its size is, frankly, exaggerated compared to those in the west. Governing that sea of untamed rivers and timber will be a torment. How are we expected to maintain order in a place where the jungle swallows stone?"
I understood his apprehension instantly. Kamui had 'domesticated' much of the northeast, but it was an entirely different beast.
"It is the vastest territory, Kamui, I do not deny it," I replied, planting both hands firmly on the table and fixing him with an intense glare. "But its size is precisely because the Suaza system has not yet fully penetrated its depths... We manage trade along the Great River (Amazon) with an iron fist, but our authority in the heart of that jungle remains tenuous. It is a raw land that must be molded with patience."
I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. I met his eyes, projecting a clear intent—a challenge that brooked no cowardice.
"However, I am not worried," I added, dropping my voice an octave. "I have a very clear candidate in mind for the position. Someone with the experience and the willpower required to rein in that vast territory before chaos can devour it."
Kamui immediately tensed in his chair. His shoulders squared as he grasped the implicit message. He knew I was speaking of him. It was an honor, yes, but also a trial by fire: if he refused or if he failed, another would claim his place at the new summit of power. Kamui closed his mouth and gave a curt nod, withdrawing into a contemplative silence.
To shatter the heavy tension that had settled over that side of the table, Chuquy took the floor once more, zeroing in on the bureaucratic core of the matter.
"Then, Leader, with all these changes, how exactly shall we proceed in electing the governors for these new eight macro-regions?"
I did not hesitate for a second. It was time to reorganize the pieces that would not fit the new mold.
"I expect the current governors who have proven their worth to assume those positions," I declared firmly. "Nevertheless, those who fail to be elected by the new municipalities, or whose talents lean more toward the sword than the quill... will not be discarded. Above all, those who possess strong military acumen will take their rightful place."
I let my gaze sweep across the room before dropping the final revelation of the day.
"They shall become part of the Council of War as military generals of the realm."
Xiua leaned forward, surprise breaking through his usual, veteran composure.
"Does that mean there will also be a military reorganization, Young Chuta?"
I simply looked him in the eye and offered a slow nod. The regions were merely the beginning; to defend the new world we were forging; the fist of the Suaza Kingdom would also have to change.
One week later.
Tactical Briefing Room, Explorer Headquarters.
Dawn City (Cuba).
The silence in the tactical briefing room of the Explorer headquarters in Dawn City was thick, almost tangible.
It smelled of beeswax, oiled leather, and the unmistakable metallic tang of newly forged weapons. Outside, the midday sun bathed Dawn City in light, but in here, amidst strategic maps illuminated by oil lamps, the atmosphere was cold and calculating.
I ran a hand over my face, feeling the texture of my own skin, anchoring myself to the present. The generals were not due to arrive for a few more minutes, so I allowed myself to sink into the carved oak chair, letting my mind dissect the fallout of last week's marathon session with the governors.
Reducing the kingdom to eight macro-regions had been the masterstroke, the grand exhibition of power. But what followed—the ministerial overhaul—was the true open-heart surgery.
An empire does not fall solely by enemy swords; it collapses under the crushing weight of its own bureaucracy, I thought, recalling the absurd litany of positions I had been forced to purge.
There had been regions landlocked between mountain ranges that somehow possessed 'Offices of Maritime Trade.' An administrative abomination that had bled me of gold and efficiency.
The solution was brutal and necessary. The central power of the kingdom had to be absolute in the domains that defined the Suaza Kingdom's survival.
By merging the Ministry of Education with the Department of Family and select religious affairs, I created the Ministry of Integration and Culture.
It is the kingdom's mandate to propel learning, ensure the proper upbringing of our children, and erode tribal differences, all to fortify the realm itself, I reflected.
To that, I added the monopoly of the Ministry of Justice—because the law had to remain absolute from the isthmus to the deep jungle—as well as control over the Ministry of External Ties, the coffers of the Suaza Bank, and the Treasury. And, naturally, the crown jewel: the Explorer Division and the Office of Military Research.
However, I could not hoard all the power. It is not my style, after all.
I knew that if I squeezed too tightly, they would rebel. Thus, I granted them shared autonomy over Health, Economy, Trade, Labor, Agriculture, and Security. I let them govern partially, while I manipulated the invisible strings of progress.
I stood and walked over to the immense map sprawled across the central table.
My fingers traced the newly drawn borders. The brilliance of the new system lay in its specialization. It made no sense to enforce an identical model upon such drastically disparate geographies.
I smiled, recalling how I had designed the Ministry of Oceanic Affairs and Shipyards for the coastal zones, FRFI included. I needed vessels capable of traversing any ocean, not land-locked bureaucrats attempting to decipher the tides.
For the central lands, I established the Ministry of Food Sovereignty and Granaries.
They shall be the breadbasket of the kingdom. If they manage to mechanize their harvests, we will never lose a war to starvation.
And for the untamable beast of the east: the Ministry of Tribal and Jungle Integration.
There were other, region-specific departments, but their reach was curtailed. Officially, the regions held a voice in the 'elections,' at least in the formal ones to be held a few years down the line. Unofficially, and strictly for the time being, the regional governors would be appointed by me. No one in that Great Hall had dared object to my suggestions, for they knew I sought the absolute best for everyone.
My eyes wandered over the names inked onto the parchment.
Foza had retained the Federal Region of Floating Islands (FRFI). The man had immersed himself so deeply in the Taino and Caribe cultures that he rechristened his region as Caribá.
A clever move, I thought. If the natives feel that one of their own governs, integration will remain peaceful… as it has been thus far.
The Chibcha Federal Region (CFR) fell to Axu Quibian, the Guaimí leader, in an unofficial diarchy with Tolú, Mayor of Sunset Edge City. They baptized the territory as Gunamanka; the gateway to our world, the bridge between the oceans.
My index finger drifted westward. Eyadobida. Its governor: Fagua. There had been no doubt regarding his appointment; bolstered by local leaders and our own indirect backing, he had risen to power.
Suamox-Iki, the south, went to Governor Chuhis. A steady hand for a region that could ill afford chaos if we intended to secure production. Coquivacoa, upon Lake Suaza, went to Xiua. Nyia's father was a widely respected veteran; his sheer authority would pacify any friction in the continental north.
I paused at the center of the map. Achagua Nirua would be governed by Chuquy. My sister.
Is it nepotism if I know for a fact, she is the most brilliant mind in the room, save for my own? I wondered, tracing the contour of her region.
Chuquy was never afraid to challenge me in front of the others. I needed that counterweight at the kingdom's core—someone who would not agree with me out of fear, but out of conviction. She would manage the heart of Suaza with the meticulous precision of a clockmaker. Even Central City fell under her jurisdiction.
And finally, the savage frontier. The north and the boundless east. I had cloven Governor Kamui's legacy in twain.
To his son, Paramaconi Kamuipab, I handed the north: Karinamá. It was a maneuver of early succession. By empowering the son, I ensured the Kamuipab family was irrevocably bound to the kingdom's future.
Because to Kamui himself, I handed the green hell: Roraimá. The eastern region. Indomitable, colossal, an endless sea of timber and isolated tribes. I knew he was the man capable of carrying the kingdom's system and rooting it there.
The sharp, rhythmic clatter of military boots striking the hallway's stone floor severed my reflections. The sound was relentless, perfectly synchronized.
The heavy, double oak doors swung violently open.
They marched in. They wore the new standardized military uniform: a somber, dark design built for camouflage and endurance, bearing the emblem of the Suaza Sun and Moon embroidered in gold and silver upon the breast. These were not just the former generals of the army and the armada. Marching among them were the former governors.
I studied their faces as they assumed rigid postures around the table. Those governors who had not made the cut for the eight macro-regions could easily have become embittered dissidents.
Instead, I clad them in iron, handed them power, and gave them purpose, I thought, a surge of satisfaction welling within me as I watched them square their shoulders before me.
The last man shut the door. The room plunged into a tense, expectant silence. Twenty pairs of eyes, hardened by war and politics, locked onto me.
Slowly, I planted both hands on the table and leaned forward, allowing the sheer gravity of my authority to suffocate the room.
"Gentlemen," I began, my voice slicing through the cold air like a blade. "Up until last week, some of you governed patches of dirt. You concerned yourselves with local taxes and petty squabbles."
I paced slowly along the length of the table, looking them dead in the eye. I saw wounded pride in some, and the blazing fire of anticipation in others.
"That ends today. Today, you cease to be politicians. Today, you cease to be leaders of regional militias. From this moment forth, you are part of the Council of War. You are the military generals of the Suaza Kingdom."
Michuá, standing near the head of the table, furrowed his brow. The deep lines etched into his weathered face deepened further, breaking the unbreakable veteran's usual stoicism. He leaned forward slightly.
"Does that mean there will also be a complete military reorganization, Young Chuta?" he asked, his raspy voice thick with caution.
I stopped right in front of him. I thought of the looming threats from empires that had not yet crossed the sea—the Spanish steel, the gunpowder, the millions of Europeans who would inevitably come to devour this world.
I simply looked him in the eye, letting him see the cold, absolute resolve burning within my own, and offered a slow nod.
"The former military divisions were only the beginning, Michuá," I answered, raising my voice so that every man in the room heard me loud and clear. "To defend the new world we have just forged, the fist of the Suaza Kingdom must be reforged in fire. The militias die. Today, a unified army is born. Take your seats, Generals... We have a war to plan."
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support. Let's get straight to the chapter comments.
CHAPTER COMMENTS
First, I'll show you the names of the regions in case they weren't clear.
Western Region or Eyadobida Region
Southern Region or Suamox-iki Region
Central Region or Achagua-Nirua Region
Lake Region or Coquivacoa Region
Northern Region or Karinamá Region
Eastern Region or Roraimá Region
FRFI or Caribá Region
Federal Chibcha Region or Gunamanka Region
Second, the Kingdom's governing bodies.
CENTRAL GOVERNMENT
Ministry of Integration and Culture
Ministry of Justice
Ministry of External Relations
Suaza Bank
Treasury of the Kingdom
Military Research Bureau
Explorer Division
JOINT AGENCIES
Ministry of Health
Ministry of Economy
Ministry of Commerce
Ministry of Labor and Agriculture
Ministry of Development and Construction
Ministry of Security
Ministry of Mining
Department of Civil Innovation
SPECIFIC AGENCIES
Ministry of Ocean Affairs and Shipyards
General Port Authority
Ministry of Food Sovereignty and Granaries
Ministry of Tribal and Jungle Integration
The central government is led by Chuta and his trusted associates, but its affairs and actions are not secret, and each regional government can apply or influence them.
The joint bodies include a general body, that of the central government, and the specific bodies, those of the regional governments.
And the specific bodies depend on the region, as Chuta mentions in his unnecessary thought process, hahaha.
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS
First, I apologize for the delay. I don't have much to say, to be honest. I was working on the chapter and, influenced by other novels, I realized that I almost unintentionally made Chuta a conspirator or a tyrant.
I was applying aggressive attitudes and reforms, or at least that's what I read when I was about to upload the chapter yesterday.
I've reviewed it, but I don't think I've removed everything. If you find any dialogue or thoughts, or even any part of the narration that doesn't fit with Chuta's modus operandi, please let me know.
By the way, I'll upload two map images... They won't be of the kingdom and its current regions, but rather of the 'important' kingdoms of Africa and Europe.
I hope you like it.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (ON HOLD)
You can find them on my profile.]