Chapter Thirty-One: Amaska’s Ambition

The Port of Istanbul was by far the largest and most prosperous harbor along the coast of the Morris Empire. Each day, an astonishing volume of people and goods passed through its docks, making it a vital source of tax revenue for the empire.

A month after the armistice was signed on the continent of Europa, this bustling port welcomed a middle-aged man, poorly dressed and appearing much like a destitute knight. This man was none other than Amazja von Wilhelm, who had smuggled himself from the southern continent aboard a clandestine vessel.

Once a ruler with absolute power, Amazja had fallen from his lofty throne to become a penniless vagrant. Even with his tenacious character, the blow was severe—so much so that he had considered finding a quiet place to live out his days, removed from the affairs of state. After all, the influence of the Church of Light in Europa was immense, and having been expelled, Amazja had little faith that he could return without being hunted down and killed by the Holy Knights. The knights, after all, counted several Grand Masters among their ranks.

In a time of despondency, Amazja whiled away his days in taverns, where by chance he overheard tales of the rise of the Morris Empire and the decline of the Madrid Empire. That was not what caught his attention, though; what truly piqued his interest was the fact that the Morris Empire did not defer to the Nation of the Light. In fact, Emperor Morris himself harbored a certain animosity toward the Church, blaming them for their inaction during the invasion by the High Elves, those sworn enemies of mankind. He saw this as a betrayal of humanity by the Church of Light.

The sudden emergence of a powerful force in Europa openly hostile to the Nation of the Light sparked a glimmer of ambition in Amazja’s otherwise listless eyes. With the prowess of a Grand Knight, he reasoned, save for those freaks in the Holy Knights, there was likely no one else on the continent who could match him. If he were to recommend himself to Emperor Morris, he reckoned, his rarity alone would ensure he was highly valued. On the battlefield, whether as a commander or as a protector to the commanders, his presence would greatly diminish the threat posed by the Holy Knights. So Amazja schemed.

Each Grand Knight was the product of a lifelong, arduous training and a special ordeal administered by the Church, with only the slimmest chance of success. The ordeal itself, monopolized by the Church, might in theory be leaked by a traitor, but even then, few would willingly endure such inhuman torment for twenty years straight. In an age where a single musket could fell a master swordsman, few wise men would squander their years in such a pursuit; with that time and effort, they could achieve far more with a prestigious academic career, with a much higher success rate than that of becoming a Grand Knight. Thus, aside from the Grand Masters cultivated within the Holy Knights themselves, there was scarcely another force on the continent capable of producing such extraordinary figures. As for whether other races could, none could say—under the greedy cunning of humankind, most other races had either been exterminated or now stood in irreconcilable opposition to mankind.

Following this train of thought, Amazja set about investigating in detail the major events that had occurred in the Old World during the years he had served as governor. Only then did he realize just how many opportunities he had missed while living in decadence in that backwater. The Madrid Empire had nearly collapsed, and a new Protestant force had risen in the Old World, challenging the once unassailable authority of the Church of Light. Had it not been for the Holy Knights propping them up, the decaying Nation of the Light would have crumbled long ago.

Leaving aside the unspeakable exploitation carried out within the Nation of the Light—such as the mass issuance of indulgences and the monopolization of the common people—Amazja realized that the rise of the Protestant cause was all but inevitable. The only remaining obstacle was the Holy Knights; the die-hard loyalists of the Church in the Madrid Empire were little more than a joke.

Thus, with his passion rekindled, Amazja gathered his belongings and, after a journey of many days, arrived in the Morris Empire.

For most people, gaining an audience with Emperor Morris would have been all but impossible. For Amazja, however, it was not difficult at all. He merely arrived at the imperial capital, demonstrated his mastery of martial energy to a few influential officials, then announced his name, background, and intentions.

When Emperor Morris learned that Amazja, the notorious Church traitor, had come to join him, he pondered briefly and then, sensing an opportunity to stir up the stagnant waters of Europa—long suppressed by the Church—he cast aside any concern for his own safety and received Amazja von Wilhelm in person. Whether this reflected the emperor’s ignorance of a Grand Knight’s power, or simply his faith in his own judgment, none could say.

As it turned out, Emperor Morris’s decision was entirely correct. Amazja truly sought to win favor and a position, and at least until he had secured his own safety, he was wholly loyal to the emperor.

The two men hit it off at once, conversing into the depths of the night—though what exactly they discussed, and why it had to be at night, no one knew.

The following day, it seemed they had reached a perfect accord. Beaming with satisfaction, Emperor Morris personally escorted a radiant Amazja from the palace, assigned him several hundred men as aides, and ordered that word of his arrival be kept secret. He then arranged for Amazja to infiltrate the Madrid Empire, offering him every possible resource, confident that Amazja, a native, would thrive there. As for what Amazja was to do in Madrid, the emperor said not a word to anyone, instructing his intelligence officers to report directly to him any news of Amazja, and declaring the matter a state secret.

And so, a Grand Knight vanished from the world stage, while Madrid gained a wealthy merchant. Yet this merchant, under the surface, was expanding various criminal enterprises—casinos, brothels, gangs—taking a stake in any business that promised quick returns. In the first few months after his arrival, street brawls and murders became rampant. But the Madrid Empire was preoccupied with implementing conscription, expanding production of flintlocks and other advanced weapons, and squeezing the people for every last coin and able-bodied man. In the grand scheme of things, a few deaths on the street were of no consequence to the emperor; such reports rarely made it beyond the wastebasket.

Perhaps even the gangs feared that if social disorder continued too long, the empire would turn its attention to stamping out the underworld. After several months of bloody conflict, public order gradually improved, much to the relief of Madrid’s chief of police, who promptly put the matter out of mind. The true vocation of Madrid’s officials, after all, was currying favor with their superiors and amassing personal wealth—these were the proper pursuits of any respectable Madrid bureaucrat.

Sun Li, meanwhile, knew nothing of the series of upheavals in Europa. Unbeknownst to him, another potential threat to his conquest of the southern continent had been removed. A Grand Knight possessing martial energy was a formidable force, whether for sabotage or assassination.

Sun Li’s army of twenty thousand now marched in grand formation into the region of Kalimdor. The greatest clash of cold steel and firearms the world had ever seen was about to begin.