Dirt, sweat and blood covered Snowid’s body as he slowly trudged back to camp. His laboured breathing added to his appearance was a telling sign of the battle he had just been through. The men behind him all had tried eyes. The war had been raging for too long. They were tired, hungry and unmotivated. They couldn’t care anymore. They were fighting their own countrymen, not a foreign invader. They could only push on, seeing the back of their king after every battle. he fought with them, bled with them, and risked his life with them.

Stripping his armour as he walked, the heavy crashing of the steel armour echoed, and Snowid entered his tent. Collapsing on his makeshift bed, he let out a deep, exhausted sigh, followed by his teeth grinding in pure anger.

’Henryk. You old bastard.’ He wanted to scream at the man and behead him. He threatened the entire fate of his kingdom. The thing he had worked so hard to stabilise. All his work; obsolete. His vassals becoming dogs of the Empire. ’I should have dealt with them when I had the chance.’

Snowid’s fist curled as he slammed his bed, the wooden frame shaking slightly from his strength. "Your Grace." A quiet voice called for him outside the tent, and Snowid quickly got up and wiped down some of the dirt on his body.

"Enter." Happy with his appearance, he finally let the man in. The messenger walked over carefully, sensing Snowid’s anger and bowed.

"A message from the Southern Island has arrived. The Empire has arrived." Snowid froze at the news and slowly reached out, grabbing the letter from the messenger. His breathing got heavier as he read the report, and his fist tightened around the note.

"Why am I hearing this now?" Snowid did his best to remain calm as he stared daggers into the messenger.

"I do not know, Your Grace. All I know is the South has already suffered a loss at the hands of the Empire." Snowid unsrucnthed the note and looked at it.

"Hardly." Seeing Marcus’s name, he had memories of the news that flooded his Commonwealth years ago. ’The saviour of the Commonewealth.’ The man who ended the pirate invasion for them. The long plan that Empire had been planning since they saw the Commonwealth as their land. It was all finally coming together.

"Your Grace. Reinforcements are already being sent South, but the nobility is wondering if we should contact the church now." Snowid veins popped at the mention of the church. It seemed like everything would set him off now as he thought about how useless his allies had been.

"Those sun worshiping fucks."

"Your Grace!" The messenger nearly screamed in surprise at Snowid’s words, but he didn’t care.

"Send word to them. Tell them what everyone knew was going to happen has." The messenger stood there for a couple seconds, looking at Snowid with strange eyes. "Did you not hear my order? Leave." With his final word coming out like a growl, the messenger nodded and ran off as Snowid collapsed on his bed once again.

Staring at the roof of his tent, he regulated his breathing and closed his eyes, trying to think. He needed something. He had sent marriage requests for alliances out to other rulers, but he didn’t trust them. If he were in their position, he would see the incoming collapse of his nation and ignore it aswell. No, he couldn’t rely on foreigners. They were untrustworthy. He could only rely on his own people.

Getting up, Snowid marched out of his tent to where the war council tent was. A couple of tired-looking men stood in their hall, planning their next move. However, upon seeing the king, they quickly stopped and bowed. "Send word to the Laska’s. I’ve waited long enough. They will come now."

The men looked at one another and happily nodded. How long had they been waiting? "At once, Your Grace." Snowid smiled and took his place at the table. His body cried to him to sleep; it was exhausted and hadn’t properly rested in a long time, but he suppressed it.

"We will hold off attacking for now. Stock up on supplies and let our men rest. When the Laska reinforcement arrives, we will begin a full counter." The men nodded in satisfaction. To have a rest had become a luxury. Snowid looked at them and smiled. "You are some of the finest the Commonwelath has to offer. When we win this pathetic rebellion and stop the Empire’s game, I promise, you will all be rewarded with what you deserve. So make sure you fight for the best scraps."

The men looked at one another with a greedy light in their eyes as they understood the best scrap: the empty Dukedom. Although it wasn’t the reason Snowid wanted his men to be motivated, he knew he needed to give them a reason to fight harder. All that was left were the soldiers. He needed to inspire them next.

A plan popped up in his mind. One that made Snowid feel disgusted with himself. Every pesant wanted land. It was the only way they could secure a good future for their families. Whilst he didn’t have much to offer, he could create more. The crazy idea that had been proposed before. To spread disease in Henryk’s land surfaced again.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could take land from the empire. Their victory condition was survival. So why not destroy his enemy and reward his men? Even if it meant killing his own people. Goosebumps spread across Snowid’s skin as he shook his head to purge the idea from his mind.

It was risky and evil. He couldn’t do it. Was what he liked to believe, but he knew he could. It would be easy. Closing his eyes, he gripped the table with all his might to try to think of some other way.

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Anton stepped off the ship and looked around the port city of Chent. It almost felt like home as he did. Merchants and stall owners cried out, trying to make deals, whilst goods constantly moved along the rode. Anto nhad to fix his apperance and walked down the street.

Eye turned his way in, looking at him with greedy eyes as the most experienced men realised the clothing he wore was high class. Many walk over to him with flattering smiles.

"Sir, would you be interested..."

"I have recently come in possession..."

"Would you be willing to make a small investment..."

Tens of different voices spoke to him at once before Anton’s guards could come in and block him, allowing him to finally walk down the street in peace, much to the annoyance of the merchants.

"Sir, I’ll ask around to see if we can get a carriage." His assistant quickly ran off whilst those behind him slowly unloaded the goods he had brought with him. He knew his goals. He had to become someone here. Luckily, he didn’t need to be a noble; he only needed money.

He didn’t wait long before a convoy of empty carriages rolled up. His people got to work quickly, loading them up, while Anton got into the most luxurious one and waited. His assistant soon followed and smiled.

"I have already sent word to our contact in the capital. We have a property ready to be purchased." Anton smiled and leaned back, pulling out a few documents from his bag. He couldn’t rest. He had a few years to prepare everything for Alfred.

"Look into food trade. Specifically, those to the Commonwealth. Tell no-one of this and make sure no-one links it to us." His assistant didn’t question the secrecy and nodded. Anton felt slightly bad about using tainted food in the Commonwealth, but the money he would earn and the help it would bring the Empire suppressed any second thoughts before they could surface.

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As Anton entered Chent, Horace looked around the Commonwealth. Once again, he found himself in the nation and felt a wave of nostalgia. Two years had flown by since he last came here, and a sly smile spread on his face as he looked to the carriage behind him.

His operatives waited patiently for him. "Begin heading towards Torun. I think I should pay a visit to Piast." The driver nodded as Horace climbed back into the carriage. Thinking about the last time he had seen the man, he fell into thought.

’I wonder how Lena is.’ There were two reasons he wanted to see Piast. For one, he recognised the man’s ability. Whilst it was a slight inconvenience that he was the head of a noble faction, he knew he could be contained in the coming occupation. If not, he could be removed.

But thinking of Lena, a playful flash of light went through his eyes. It was his first true experiment. He wondered how deep his influence on her remained and if she would still be obedient. If she was, then maybe he found a way to tie people to the Empire in a new way.