A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1384 - 1384: Brilliance - Part 3

"Now you realize," Skullic growled. "It's only a matter of time before those books get fouled, being left out in the open as they are. I want to make sure that I enjoy them properly before then."

"I would rather not see them damaged either," Volguard said. "You will ensure to take proper care of them, won't you, Ser Patrick?"

"I'll find something, I'm sure," Oliver said.

"As unreliable as it's possible to sound," Skullic snorted. "Girls and books. This is what our young protegee has come to. He scores one victory in his strategy, and it's back to girls and books."

Mary swatted him on the back of his head. "Daemon," she warned.

"…I suppose," Skullic relented.

"You aren't much different," Oliver noted, seeing how quickly Skullic softened up when Mary was involved.

"You haven't earned that grin you're wearing yet," Skullic said, pointing a finger. "If I'm to take you against the Yarmdon, and give you the command of a Colonel, I'd rather you show me something sane, but competent in your strategy. I have no idea what to make of this new stuff. If you could replicate it in other games, it might be something… But I know you'd never use your men like this.

If you're going to find something, find something that you can use."

"Now, General," Volguard said tensely. "Ser Patrick is finding few enough avenues as it is, without us limiting them for us. I think you should save your comments for when we are full of options."

"…Pah. Do what you want then," Skullic said. "But know that there are many people that expect a great deal from you, Ser Patrick. You might be enjoying yourself in this, but the results are important. The sooner you can secure them, the better."

Naturally, more than anyone, Oliver was aware of that. It was the very fact that kept him awake, despite the hour of the night, now that he had returned to his tiny room on the top floor. Or atleast, he thought it was the main reason. The truth was, he could not deny that, deep down, he was excited about the victory that he'd secured over Volguard.

Naturally, he didn't quite know what that victory meant, and he didn't dare over evaluate it in his head, lest he be disappointed, but he still couldn't help that small smidge of excitement that escaped.

There seemed to be a good handful of questions, all of which existed without answers. The First King had wormed his way into them. The man was such a strange example of a human being. He ought to have been the pinnacle of the idea called progress, for he was the one that had brought Claudia to the people of the Stormfront in the first place….

And yet he was entirely opposite the idea of progress that Oliver had built up. He was far too whimsical.

In that, there was another question. Was there a difference between the personality of Claudia, and the force of progress that she represented? Were the two not meant to be one and the same. In an effort at trying to find whatever answers he could, he talked in the silence of the room with his Fragments.

"Naturally, Vessel, I have no recollection of the First King," Claudia said. "So I cannot tell you what beseeched the Goddess Claudia to bless him. I am only a mere Fragment of her divine power. Most of what I know, beyond my fundamental instincts, I have learned as a result of your experiences."

"I know that much," Oliver said. "I just wonder, don't you feel any particular way about the First King, after learning more about him, along with me."

"…I could not say so," Claudia replied, after a moment of thought. "I still do not know him, after all."

"He's a worthy General," Ingolsol said, jumping to the complete opposite end of the spectrum straight away. "To snatch his soldiers up entirely in the palm of his hand, and direct them entirely according to his will. That's a true General. Men should be made to kneel. How would they be led, if they did not kneel?"

"You mean to say you wish for power over them?" Oliver said.

He could practically feel Ingolsol's grin in return. "I do not wish for power over them, boy. I have power over them – and I make use of it. They would be directionless without my assistance. Every mortal needs direction. If not for the city, and its structure, there would be no homes and no shops.

I am that city. If not for the Lord, the lesser nobles would butcher each other endlessly over land disputes, for no consequence. I am that Lord. If not for the High King, the Silver Kings would have no one to kneel to, and the country would fall apart. Naturally, I too, am that High King."

"So that's the input of the supposed God of Power," Oliver said. "For all the good it did you, Ingolsol. You were still defeated."

"Defeated, you say," Ingolsol said, completely unphased by Oliver's jab. "If that is what you would call it, then you may say that. I alone stone against the heavens, and I alone made it tremble. Would you call that a defeat, when in time, I will surely return, and the throne, it will naturally belong to me? In the face of overwhelming power, they can do naught but kneel."

"We shall not kneel," Claudia declared.

"Aha, wench," Ingolsol said. "You know nothing. You are the barest little infantile piece of Claudia. You may take it from me when I say that you do not stand a chance. I remember who I am, and what I am. It is the nature of the world that power, in the end, shall reign supreme."

"And why did it not?" Oliver said. "Did Claudia not stand in your way?"

"As all the other Gods stood in my way," Ingolsol said. "She did not have any particular strength over me, I do not imagine."

"Hm… So there are flaws in your memory as well," Oliver said.