A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1781 - 1781: A Coiling Serpent - Part 1

"How can the supposed Minister of Logic be so anti-logical, as you are? You make leaps of faith that normal men dare to," Oliver said.

"I am forced to. Or I would not be able to contend with you men that are so far beyond me," Hod said.

"I dislike this narrative that you have come up with of your own lacking. I do not believe it. All who know you know that they ought to fear you. I have seen your cunning strangle men that I thought to be intelligent more than once. Is there a better use for the word genius than you?"

"This battle does not require a genius. It requires a General," Hod said. "Find the opportunity, Oliver Patrick. You are capable of it. But I want to hear your words – I want to hear you accept it properly."

"It's more foolish than what I did even today…" Oliver said. "How can you bet on such an unknown quantity?"

"You do," Hod said. "You bet on even more impossible odds for yourself in the battle against the Emersons. What makes this so different than then? Do you detest it that another man asks you to do it?"

"No," Oliver said. "But back then, I saw no other options. All was cut off. That was the only way I had. That was why I was defeated in advance. Now we have you, we have Blackthorn. We are not in such an impossible situation."

"So the odds are not heavily enough against to stir you?" Hod smirked. "Arrogant indeed you are, General Patrick."

Oliver blushed. "That's not what I said… But very well, I will attempt to do what you ask of me."

"Will you attempt it, or will you succeed?"

"I cannot speak with that kind of certainty. You're the one conjuring this gamble. I have no place in it. I'm doing what I am told to do," Oliver said.

"You still deny your own victories," Hod said. "But in time you shall be unable to. If such a thing makes you suffer, you had best take measures to address it. Go then, if that is the best answer that I am to win out of you, I suppose you would be better spent with that Lady Felder of yours. Perhaps she can find enough solidness in your heart, for you to accept that which is required of you."

"She's something, isn't she?" Tiberius had to acknowledge, as he read through the reports delivered to him by subordinates, detailing all the efforts that Queen Asabel was going through in order to rebuild her newly conquered land.

He had been rather content to simply wait in the Skreen and see what might happen. He rather delighted in strolling through Skullic's old corridors, and seeing destroyed that which Skullic had taken evident care to preserve. The giant portraits of his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather. They'd all been burnt with a quick cruelness that came particularly easily to Tiberius.

He especially delighted to know just how upset Skullic was, with every day that he passed, knowing that another man sat within the halls of his heritage, and would not shift, no matter what sword was pointed his way. That Skullic didn't immediately rally an army to face him was a matter of great amusement for Tiberius. Even a man known to be rash, as Skullic was, knew better than to face him upon the open field of battle.

Instead Skullic stayed, with the likes of Broadstone and Karstly, in the centre of their engagement, sitting between Ernest and Pendragon lands, right on the western Pendragon border, skulking in their litter fortresses, and warding away Tiberius himself from delving any deeper into Pendragon territory should he so wish to.

It wasn't an especially effective means of keeping the Emperor in place, should he have wished to move, he declared that he would have done it regardless, no matter how many men stood in his way. But he did suppose it gave them a sort of advantage in responsiveness that they might have found comforting – and perhaps they might even have managed to cause some degree of irritation through it, against a foe that was lesser than Tiberius.

With Queen Asabel's efforts, there had come a degree of freedom for General Blackwell as well. And that was whom Tiberius really had his eye on. The very thought of the name brought a smile to his face. Not because he believed him to be the mightiest man – but because his achievements pointed to him being that. He was the man that had seen the Verna lands near conquered. He'd put them in a chokehold, with the piddling men that he'd been provided. On both campaigns into their lands, Blackwell had secured notable achievements.

He too was the cause behind the current rebellion, and the fact that it was as long-lasting as it was. He'd seen great Lords and Generals gathered, and he'd seen the Pendragon lands conquered. He'd even seen to the fostering of that pup that they called Oliver Patrick. He'd spied his talent before he even entered the Academy and he had seen him sent there himself.

That was the sort of man that Tiberius wished to cross swords with. Because he was a man of achievement, and because his death would bring out more effect than any other. The whole realm would shake to see it, even those that had wished for it. Especially if they saw the overbearing manner in which Tiberius declared that he would do it in. Not only would he beat the man, he would do so with such ease that he'd defeat future foes through fear of engagement alone.

That was the very sort of victory that Tiberius wanted, and he could feel it drawing closer. Queen Asabel by her own hand brought that victory closer. The strategists in the Capital continued to pester Tiberius with birds – all of which he ignored – trying to force some sort of movement from him – but it was Queen Asabel herself that set him to rising.