Aetherion's unscheduled entry into the War Council was not only for the aforementioned purpose of deviation in strategic talk, but it also aroused a thermodynamic mixture of fury and animosity among the spiritual elite. The air just before this moment at Grand Hall was thick with collective anxiety and now charged with the palpable indignation of high-ranking spiritual practitioners whose authority was just challenged by the very prince they considered worthless: Prince Kaiden, with his face writhing with suppressed rage.
The very first to lash out was the very person, Prince Kaiden, whose contorted face showed suppressed rage along with the very vigor he commanded, vibrating around him. Turning towards Anointed Prince Managmati, he asked," You speak of war mechanics, Brother?" Kaiden scoffed his voice dripping with condescension so that every general and minister present heard. "You, who cannot summon a single flicker of mana to defend yourself, dare to lecture us-the masters of the spiritual arts-on strategy? This is no peasant brawl; it is a war of the gods! Your 'choke points' and 'infantry' are nothing but old-fashioned relics useful only for history books, and not at the grand stage in defense of the Azure Empire!".
The ridicule wasn't just merciless, it was in the form of a public steamroller meant to crush Aetherion like a bug. More subtly perhaps, Princess Lyra brought her cold wrath. "Father Aetherion is absolutely right about logistics," she said in a dangerously flat tone. "But to call upon brute force is to squander the gifts our bloodline provides. It's reckless, wasteful, and to be honest, humiliating to even consider such a desperate move when our spiritual power should be enough to dissolve them all away." The dukes and counts, of course, immediately flocked to the potent siblings, wagging heads attesting to their happy spiritual-secular equilibrium.
Yet, Aetherion remained utterly unperturbed. The elements stood by the colossal table, bearing down against the great storm of hatred with an air of icy, palpable silence that was as old and solid as stone. He didn't have to raise his voice to equal Kaiden's wrath; he merely raised a finger and gestured at another part of the map; that was all it took, minimalistic, efficient movement. It was his demeanor, not any argument, that discomfited the court. And the "Worthless Prince" was not responding as he should.
"Embarrassing or not," Aetherion countered, his gaze unflinching as he met Kaiden's hostile eyes, "the Shadow Empire relies on the assumption that you will rely on spiritual force. "Embarrassing or not," Aetherion shot back, his eyes steady as they locked on Kaiden's glare, "the Shadow Empire is betting you'll lean on spiritual force."They're armed with one thing above all a quiet assumption that cuts sharper than any blade.
The Emperor, whose face expression made him look as if he was torn inside, eventually stopped the mutters by gently hitting the table. Even Aetherion's analysis, although impudently expressed his thoughts; still it portrayed a certain reality. The empire had suffered very great misfortunes in old days because of disrespect to the logistics of their shadow aligned enemies. There was an almost invisible exchange of nods between the Emperor and one of Lord Valerius; one of his highest trusted Generals who had remained silent throughout all the spiritual show-casts.
"Aetherion," the Emperor said, his voice slow and deliberate, weighing the consequences of every word. "Your analysis of the mountain pass is… astute. "Aetherion," the Emperor said, each syllable measured like footsteps on cold stone, his tone heavy with the weight of every consequence."That's a sharp take on the mountain pass like you spotted the hidden trail before anyone else."
This was the preamble which Aetherion had expected. He knew that the court would never deploy their powerful spiritually-oriented soldiery for following his "outdated" scheme. That would be confessing indirectly that his tech-low strategy was superior. He took a deep breath, the moment hung in front of him as he said his next sentence, a gamble that could either make him be thrown up or be killed immediately for treasonous arrogance.
Aetherion pronounced and went on, "I do not ask for your spiritual masters, Your Majesty," as he observed the looks of his brothers and sisters with terror. He noticed the hope in their faces, expectancy that he would refer to some powerful resource he had no right to ask for. " I ask only what none else desires: The exiled battalions--the shunned soldiers , rag-tag volunteers , the disreputable scratchers employed guarding Bagdad bazaars (lit. banished to garrison duty on the frontier) Give me the force you purposed to merely keep down the front rank of oppressors; let me have these you despised as being worthless." His voice came off with sudden poignancy, with a deep sound that returned his description borne upon him all these years.
The hall was still noisy. Kaiden laughed loudly a cruel, ridiculing laughter. "He asks for the mob! What folly is this? He seeks to die a noble death with all the Empire's disgraces!" Yet his companions fell silent almost instantly as they realised what Aetherion was really up to his recklessness and visionary in him. He was not just calling upon the waste of men; he was declaring victory with only what weaklings had disdained. This wasn't simply military tactics; it was something much more profound and dangerous, a clear political challenge that directly mirrored Aetherion's himself experience. In a sense, he linked a crucial military target that attracted the oppressed or simply ignored coming back into power with his destiny.
With a look that was once distant and calculating now on Aetherion, he half expected to catch a glimmer of madness or any other kind of mischief. He only saw a steady, cold confidence. Lord Valerius, the veteran general who had conducted bothersome campaigns over the decades, took one step forward and his eyes sparkled with a dangerous yet professional interest. He recognized the wisdom in Fortunatus's decision that most fortresses along the supply lines wouldn't eviscerate Empire's spiritual core if lost. This was logic which requires accepting necessity rather than engaging in fantasy about what war is all about.
"Your Majesty," Valerius addressed, and his voice now a growling whisper that silenced the renewed chaos. "The Prince's appeal may not sound very right on the surface, but it is wise. He asks for the fighters who court overburdens, yet in a mission of vital importance. No Shadow commander would have ever thought of such defensive disposition based on non-spiritual assets. It is a very cunning artifice."
By this sudden support of an Empire's honored military expert the atmosphere changed once more. The emperor lifted his hand to stop all opposition. The choice was painfully clear: it was a clear attempt to change the course for a shortcut with minimal political cost. He gazed at his son, whom he had been ignoring for fifteen years, and read not a spiritual accusal, but rather a general accusation in him.
" Very well then, Aetherion," said the Emperor, using the name which seemed so odd to him after all this time. "You will have what you want. I hereby appoint you as commander of the Seventh Auxiliary Battalion dishonored and unskilled. Take them into your service. If you are successful you will guard the southern flank and receive my trust regarding further deployments; if you prove unable to carry out your mission – it is going to be solely your problem and you will be subjected to military law for waste of resources in full measure."
It was like a massive sigh of relieve and at the same time shock swept through the generals, while Kaiden and Lyra were silent fumers, grand plans momentarily dwarfed. Aetherion just bowed, and there was no other way, his victory was a simple logic one. When stepped out from the chaotic hall, it wasn't that the Emperor's challenge did not crush him; but invigorating him instead. He was entrusted with the despised army to defend the despised pass. It was just beyond perfect. He ceased to be only Scorned Prince in the palace; he became commander of inglorious cast-outs making an entrance onto stage where only true competence not spiritual lineage would dictate survival. His journey from zero to hero had just started with others' broken hopes and his own ambition cold as steel being its foundation.