The journey to Arpa resumed in earnest the following morning. Our imperial army had reorganized itself into a protective formation, strategically surrounding the steadily growing numbers of civilians who had come under our protection. The soldiers positioned the civilians carefully in the middle of the column, setting themselves up as a living shield around the vulnerable travelers. It was a formation designed to protect against attacks from any direction, though it necessarily slowed our overall pace considerably. The attacked merchants, grateful to be alive and to have recovered most of their goods from the Dergu stronghold, would be able to continue their originally planned journey to Arpa and conduct their business there after all.
The rest of our days crossing the seemingly endless desert were not nearly as harsh or challenging as that brutal first day had been. So many things had happened in rapid succession—the battle, the betrayal, the ancient temple—that I hadn't noticed the change at first. But my body had surely, just as Aiona had confidently mentioned it would, adapted remarkably well to the intense desert heat. The transformation was gradual but undeniable. I felt like I could actually wear my usual multiple layers of Northern clothing and still be perfectly fine, comfortable even. But I deliberately chose not to return to my old wardrobe.
The Southern style of clothing had genuinely grown on me after just a few days of wearing it. The garments were made from soft, remarkably breathable fabrics that seemed specifically designed for hot climates—lightweight cottons and linens that allowed air to circulate freely. The overall design of the clothing was both comfortable and practical in a way that made complete sense for this environment. The loose flowing shapes didn't restrict movement, and the lighter colors reflected rather than absorbed the punishing sunlight. So I didn't feel any desire whatsoever to go back to my usual layered monstrosity of a dress with its heavy fabrics and restrictive corsetry. That Northern style suddenly seemed absurdly impractical.
And every morning without fail, Rora appeared at my tent with a new set of clothes for me to wear. The variety was impressive—different colors, slightly different styles, but all beautifully made and perfectly suited to the climate. When I finally asked her with genuine curiosity where so many clothes, all precisely measured and expertly tailored to my exact size and proportions, could possibly have come from on such short notice, she simply smiled and answered that His Majesty had commissioned them to be made for me back in Kami, before we had even left the city.
Hearing that small detail made warmth bloom in my chest, a feeling of being genuinely cared for and thought about. I felt incredibly lucky to have such an attentive and considerate man by my side, someone who thought ahead about my comfort and needs even before I had articulated them myself.
But these past few days, I had noticed that Arvid had been growing increasingly tense with each mile we traveled closer to Arpa. He carried himself like a man preparing mentally for an approaching war, his shoulders tight with stress and his expression often distant and preoccupied. He held military strategy meetings every single night without exception, gathering his officers in the command tent. I had glimpsed inside once and seen detailed maps of their homeland—of Arpa specifically—spread out before him on the planning table, marked with various notations and potential approach routes.
The very idea of going to war against one's own home seemed unthinkable to me, a nightmare scenario that no leader should have to face. I was absolutely certain they were going to find some way to resolve this situation as peacefully as possible, to avoid the tragedy of Selon soldiers fighting and killing other Selon soldiers in the streets where they had grown up.
Because, as I had been informed by several of the officers during our conversations, Arpa was no ordinary city. It was a massive urban center, deliberately built and designed like an enormous fortress with sophisticated defensive capabilities. The city boasted three separate great walls, each one layered with its own comprehensive defensive systems and fortifications. And somewhere around one million civilians resided inside that grand fortress-city, going about their daily lives completely unaware of the approaching conflict. If an actual war were to break out, the officers were grimly certain that the current ruler inside—Arvid's treacherous cousin—would not hesitate to take those innocent civilians hostage. He would force them to stand directly in front of the siege machines as human shields, using their bodies to prevent Arvid from attacking his own people.
That night, I had been planning to seek out Arvid anyway, wanting to talk to him privately and discover what exactly he was planning to do about this impossible situation. I also wanted to offer him whatever emotional support I could provide, to remind him that he wasn't facing this burden alone.
I was in the middle of my evening meal, dining with young Gohan sitting comfortably on my lap and chattering away about his day, when a messenger soldier arrived at my tent. He stood at attention just inside the entrance, waiting to be acknowledged.
"His Majesty requests that Your Majesty join him in the strategy tent this evening after you have finished your dinner," he relayed formally, delivering the message with practiced military precision.
"Oh, thank you very much for letting me know, Yash," I replied to the young soldier with a genuine smile, using his name deliberately. His eyes widened noticeably in surprise at the fact that I not only knew his name but had bothered to remember and use it. But he quickly composed himself, withdrawing his startled gaze and bowing respectfully before retreating from my tent to deliver other messages.
I turned my attention back to the child on my lap and picked up a piece of rotti—a flatbread common in Southern cuisine—using it to scoop up some of the savory vegetable curry we had been served. I brought it to Gohan's mouth, but he immediately frowned and turned his head away stubbornly.
"I want rice," he complained again, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. It was the same complaint he had voiced multiple times already during this meal.
"Yes, I know very well—you've already told me that several times, young man," I said with amused exasperation, reaching out to gently pinch his nose in playful reprimand.
"But unfortunately we are completely out of rice rations at the moment," I explained patiently. "And we are only about three days away from reaching Arpa now, so you just need to hold on a little bit longer, alright?" I picked up another piece of rotti with curry and held it up encouragingly.
"Once we finally get there to the city, I absolutely promise you can eat as much soft, fragrant, fluffy white rice as your little belly can hold," I told him, deliberately using an exaggerated, playful tone that made him giggle despite his protests.
Though he had been initially protesting quite vigorously against having to eat rotti instead of his preferred rice, I eventually managed through patience and gentle coaxing to make him finish his entire dinner. After sending him back to rejoin his mother at their section of the camp, making sure he got there safely, I returned to my own tent and finished my own meal at a more leisurely pace.
---
After dinner, as I had been instructed, I made my way through the camp toward the strategy tent. The route was becoming familiar now, and I nodded greetings to the soldiers I passed. When I entered the large command tent, the military officers gathered there—men whose names, hometowns, family situations, and personal histories I now knew fairly well from our many conversations over the past days—welcomed me warmly with respectful nods and made space for me near the planning table.
Arvid stood at the head of the table, looking every inch the emperor and military commander. But I could see the strain around his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. "So, it appears we will most likely have to lay siege against Arpa after all," he opened the conversation without preamble, his voice heavy with reluctance. "The situation has developed in a way that leaves us with very few peaceful options."
He gestured to some papers laid out on the table beside the maps. "I found an extensive correspondence—multiple letters exchanged between Warush and my cousin—while thoroughly searching through Warush's personal belongings after his death. The treachery went deeper than just his actions here. According to these letters, he had been explicitly instructed to assassinate both me and you, Rhia. Once we were dead, he was promised that he would be immediately promoted to the rank of General and would then be permitted to enter Arpa leading the army, presenting our deaths as some tragic accident or enemy attack."
Arvid's expression darkened further. "Warush also sent regular intelligence reports back to Arpa, keeping my cousin informed of our movements, our strength, our plans. I don't know exactly how much detailed information he managed to send before we discovered his betrayal, but I do know one critical thing with certainty: the gates of Arpa will absolutely not open for us unless the guards on the walls can clearly see Warush himself leading our army. They've been given explicit orders to that effect."
He turned his attention to the detailed map spread across the table, pointing to different sections as he spoke. "Arpa has three distinct layers of defensive walls, each one a significant obstacle. The first wall, which is by no means fragile or easily breached despite being the outermost defense, completely surrounds the extensive farmlands of Arpa. You see, Arpa is essentially a self-sufficient city by deliberate design. Though the leadership does support and encourage trading for economic reasons, the trade was mostly focused on either buying exotic luxury items that can't be produced locally, or selling whatever surplus crops the farms produce beyond what the population needs. They don't depend on outside food sources at all."
"And for water sources," he continued, tracing lines on the map, "Arpa has both a substantial natural lake and an extensive man-made reservoir system inside the walls. There are also quite a large number of deep wells scattered throughout the city, so they can access groundwater. This means they can survive completely without any outside support—no supply lines needed—for many years if necessary. A siege by starvation simply won't work within any reasonable timeframe."
He let out a heavy sigh before continuing. "Then there's the second layer of walls, which surrounds all the livestock farms. They raise cows, chickens, goats, sheep—everything needed for a complete diet. The farmers and herders who tend these animals also live within these second walls, in small villages and homesteads. So the city has its own meat, dairy, eggs, leather—complete food security."
"Then finally the third and innermost wall," Arvid said, his finger tracing the fortifications on the map. "This one surrounds the nobility and royalty of Arpa and all their grand residences. It also encompasses the main merchants' district with all its shops and warehouses, along with the homes of wealthy merchants and major landowners. It's mostly a residential area for the upper classes, but with quite a substantial number of shops, markets, and commercial establishments to serve them."
He straightened up from the map and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Arpa's defensive design is almost completely impenetrable by conventional military means. And the leadership deliberately made their city entirely self-sufficient, able to outlast any siege. It would be an absolute nightmare to conduct a proper siege against that city. That's precisely why Arpa serves as the capital of Selon—when your home city is so incredibly well-designed for defense, enemies simply can't take it."
He looked directly at me, and I could see the conflict and pain in his eyes. "If I had any choice in the matter, I would strongly prefer not to go to war against Arpa at all. There are so many civilians living inside those walls—families, children, elderly people who have nothing to do with my cousin's treachery. And there's a standing army of approximately thirty thousand soldiers garrisoned inside those fortifications, well-trained and well-equipped. If a full-scale war were to actually happen, it would be like watching a serpent slowly eat its own tail—Selon destroying Selon. It's shameful and tragic."
His gaze held mine with desperate intensity. "I genuinely want to avoid unnecessary bloodshed on both sides if there's any possible way to do so. That is precisely why I need your help, Rhia. Your abilities, your magic—they might give us options that conventional military tactics simply cannot provide. Will you help me find a way to end this without slaughtering my own people?"