"And you wonder why the Iron Line did what it did," Velakia shook her head, "Every second I stay in this Empire I grow to hate it more and more."
"The Iron Line started it," Blanc shrugged, "The High Monarch's death was tragic, but peace held for a moment until the Iron Line began doing what it pleased."
"When you have nothing and see an opportunity to finally have something, you try to take it. The nobility in your blood makes it hard for you to see the truth, Blanc," Velakia sighed.
Blanc giggled, "You are wrong, princess of a foreign kingdom, I see it exactly how it is. If they wanted more, they should have come to the table and negotiated, not to start killing, raping, and pillaging everything in their path, especially not by using the help of another foreign king and his cursed beings."
"That's that same desperation you people used as a weapon being turned against you, nothing else," Velakia said, getting up and heading towards her tent. "Perhaps you will realize that games have an end, one that usually comes only from the mistakes you choose to make."
"I have made no mistakes yet," Blanc countered.
Velakia sighed, near the entrance of her tent, "You did not, but the Empire did plenty, and one day, be it in a year, a decade, a century, or millennia, these small, countless mistakes would be what finally sets the sun over this bloodthirsty Empire."
And with that, she was gone inside, leaving Blanc with Tahreni and Lendros, who watched the conversation not understanding a single word, while still munching on the fish in their hands.
Blanc shook his head seeing the two, so he got up as well, and went to rest for the night, exhausted over these four days of talking as well as annoyed with the conversation he had just had.
He removed most of his clothes and let his body fall back first on the comfortable bed. It seemed that four days and three nights were his new limit before his body required sleep.
And that was only if they were walking.
If they were to run part of the road, it most likely would require him to rest daily, or at most after two days.
But that was only for him, as Velakia, Tahreni, and Lendros were not able to run long distances.
They were able to continuously walk for a week straight without sleep and run at incredible speeds for at most three to four minutes before they required a long time of rest. Which meant that walking three to four days with a night of rest was the sweet spot for all of them, and the norm they planned to stick with for the entirety of their journey.
But what truly exhausted him more was the conversations he kept having with Velakia these past few days, since leaving Lupa.
Before then, they mostly kept to themselves and their weird language.
But after their short stay there, the two of them began sharing their views on many subjects.
War, food, marriage, politics, philosophy, climate, geography, and many more, besides walking, all they could do was talk.
But who would expect a foreign princess and a Noble Blood to have such different takes on most things?
Most of their conversations started from a normal, curious question, and by the end of it, they were arguing a few times, going as far as threatening each other.
War? Completely different views.
Food? Somehow, that had the two almost at each other's throats.
Marriage? Well… all that is worth mentioning is that they did not see eye to eye.
Politics and philosophy? It was obvious that each hated the other's ideals to the point that Lendros and Tahreni, even without understanding the language, could tell how different the two of them were in their views.
They even stopped worrying about Blanc and his danger to their princess, leaving them to argue to their hearts' content, only getting between the two before a fight really broke out.
For Blanc, however, regardless of how much they argued and how different the two of them were, he did not hate her; on the contrary, actually, he respected her honesty and her idealistic views on the world.
And it kept the things entertaining while they walked day and night. However, regardless of how much they disagreed, what he hated most about her was her views on the High Monarch.
Whenever speaking about the problems of the Senvia Empire, she always seemed to mention the High Monarch as the sole perpetrator of all the Empire's problems, followed by harsh criticism and insults that would have sent her neck flying if she were to mention them to a more fanatic Noble Blood.
Luckily, as much as Blanc respected and loved the High Monarch, he also understood how things seemed to appear from the outside.
Annoyed, he chose not to pay attention, for none of them laid eyes upon the man who sat in the Sedes Snguinis as though it was made for him.
None of them understood how much that man suffered for the Empire and every single one of its citizens.
None of them understood the madness and the grief the man felt after every death in his family.
His children, his wives… his family, his Blood, his future, all were taken from him before their time.
Who would not go mad? Who would not grieve to the point it rained over the Empire for a month straight when the last of his wives died?
That was him… the Most Beloved.
The last of the Imperial Blood.
The Firstblood Ascended, High Monarch, Emperor, and Crimsoned-Lined Sovereign.
The man who, in a lifetime, expanded the territory of the Empire to a third of the entire continent.
A man of black and crimson. A man of love, war, and death.
A Warlord who was able to be taken by the Vita, only by convincing him… to kill himself.
Caleon of Blood Corin, High Monarch of the Senvia Empire.
May His name be remembered until the Heavens Shatter once more.