The platinum text of the System's new directive burned in Kenji's mind, a proclamation of such magnificent, terrifying insanity that he couldn't help but laugh. His queens, startled by the sudden sound in the tense war room, looked at him with concern.
"He's gone mad," Seraphina stated, her voice flat.
"It's the pressure," Annalise added softly. "It's understandable."
"No," Kenji said, his laughter subsiding into a low, predatory grin as he looked at the four powerful women before him. "I've just been given a new directive. Prince Theron is a fool. He intends to fight monsters with swords. He will fail, and the kingdom will be devoured."
He leaned forward, his expression so intense that it commanded their absolute attention. "We are not going to fight this war. We are going to win it. And we will win it my way."
He took a deep breath. "I am going to add the Demon Lord and her four Commandments to my harem."
Silence.
The statement was so profoundly absurd, so far beyond the realm of possibility, that for a moment, they could only stare at him. Then, Seraphina let out a sharp, disbelieving bark of a laugh.
"You want to seduce the apocalypse?" she asked, her voice dripping with incredulous sarcasm. "Kenji, I admire your ambition, and your performance in the bedchamber is second to none, but there is a limit."
"Is there?" Kenji countered, his gaze sweeping over them. "I seduced the untouchable Duchess with a greasy eel on a stick. I earned the trust of the kingdom's greatest scholar by seeing her soul. I took the Iron Queen of Commerce in her own war room. My entire existence in this world is based on achieving the impossible. This is just the next, logical step."
He was radiating a confidence so absolute, so insane, that it began to feel plausible. His queens looked at each other, their skepticism warring with the undeniable truth of his past successes. He was their kingmaker, the man who had conquered them all. Who were they to doubt his methods now?
"Even if it were possible," Genevieve reasoned, her mind racing to process the variables, "their nature... they are beings of destruction. What could you possibly offer a being called the 'Blade of Ruin'?"
"Every woman has a void, Genevieve," Kenji said, his voice soft but firm. "An emptiness that gnaws at her. Power, loneliness, boredom, grief... it doesn't matter if she is a human or a demon. I will find their voids, and I will fill them. With my mind, with my loyalty," he paused, his gaze turning hot and possessive, "and with my body."
The air in the room thickened, the memory of their shared passion a testament to his words. The idea was still madness, but it was their madness.
"So, what is the plan?" Isolde asked, her voice trembling but resolute. She was the first to accept it. She was to be Queen, and this was now her path to the throne.
"We let Theron play hero," Kenji commanded. "Let him march his army north and become a shield. He's a blunt instrument, so we will use him as such. While he fights the demonic legions on the front lines, we will target the command. We will cut the head from the serpent."
Just then, a frantic aide burst into the room, handing a dispatch to Seraphina. She read it, her face paling.
"It's the central provinces," she said, her voice grim. "The breadbasket of the kingdom. The crops are turning to black dust in the fields. The grain in the silos is rotting overnight. It's not a blight... it's unnatural. A plague of starvation is spreading."
"Morwen, the Withered Hand," Genevieve breathed, pointing to the illustration in her book. "The Commandment of Famine."
"Theron's army can't fight a plague of hunger," Kenji said, a strategic light gleaming in his eyes. This was the first move. "But we can."
He stood, a king in his war room, naked but more commanding than any monarch in full regalia. He looked at each of his queens, his orders a caress and a command.
"Genevieve, my mind," he said. "I need maps. All of them. Ancient trade routes, forgotten granaries, hidden water sources. Find me every scrap of food and water in this kingdom that isn't on an official ledger." He sealed the order by kissing her forehead, a promise of praise for her intellect.
"Annalise, my heart," he continued, his hand gently stroking her cheek. "Panic will be our first enemy. I need you to use your social network. We are not facing a demon plague; we are facing a 'sudden crop failure'. We need to project calm, organize relief caravans, and keep the people from turning on each other. You will be their beacon of hope."
"Seraphina, my fist," he growled, gripping her shoulder. "Take Genevieve's information and mobilize our entire trade network. I want every wagon, every ship, every barrel we control moving grain from the coastal cities to the central provinces. Buy whatever we need. We will out-supply this famine. We will starve the Starver." He pulled her into a hard, brief kiss, a taste of the reward to come.
"And Isolde, my queen," he finished, his voice softening as he addressed the future of the kingdom. "You will be the face of this relief effort. You, not Theron, will be the one seen among the people, providing bread and hope. They must see you as their savior."
He then began to dress, pulling on dark, practical leather.
"And what will you be doing?" Seraphina asked, her eyes tracing the muscles of his back.
"I'm going hunting," Kenji replied, strapping Elara's knife to his arm. "Theron can have the army of grunts. I'm going to the heart of the blight to have a private conversation with the woman responsible. It's time to see what kind of void a Commandment of Famine has."