Chapter 1638: Crumbled Dreams Meeting-3
"Allies?" Marshal Tharn and the others exchanged puzzled looks, brows furrowing deeply. "We have allies?"
The word alone seemed foreign to them, a concept that hadn’t belonged in this empire for centuries.
Today’s meeting was filled with more astonishment than anyone had anticipated...
When His Majesty Hedric had first established the empire, he declared to all who would listen that betrayal had come not from his enemies, but from those closest to him. From that day forward, he swore he would never again take allies — only followers.
He believed loyalty could be bought with duty and faith, not promises or negotiations. Even after he encountered Verilion, and every strategist in the empire urged him to form diplomatic ties, he had chosen otherwise. Instead of alliances, he built an army of his own — trained, loyal, and absolutely obedient — until his forces grew into the monstrous might that now commanded the entire Crumbled Dreams Empire.
Allies? The very word was meaningless.
"The Shadow Swords have been quietly establishing potential allies from Sectors 100 and 101 over the past thirty years," Heigra explained with composure. "We have been personally involved in the negotiations from the very beginning. Out of eighty-five potential partners, fifty have signed final agreements with us."
Her voice softened, but her words struck the council like thunder. "The agreements include providing us with resources — war fleets, advanced weaponry, rare materials — and even sending us hidden World Cataclysm experts and Nexus States in moments of dire need. In exchange, we offer mutual defense, specialized training for their elite units, and the transference of some of our more... unique combat doctrines. Additionally, several of those agreements included political marriages — proposals to bind our bloodlines together for the sake of unity."
"...?!"
Everyone stared wide-eyed at one another. "Fifty allies? Just like that?"
"It wasn’t simple," Hedric growled through clenched teeth, the sound almost a low snarl. Then his gaze shifted toward Theo — that one human who had drained his patience more than any war ever had.
The man had demanded one hundred and fifty planetary weapons merely to initiate those alliances.
Worse yet, Hedric had to pay each of the fifty powers their own separate tribute as well.
"What His Majesty means," Heigra quickly interjected, rubbing a calming hand against his arm as if soothing a wild beast, "is that this coalition is based entirely on mutual gain. It’s not blind trust; it’s structured interest. If we ask for their assistance, they will come — because they have no choice but to come."
Livia frowned. "Can we really trust them? We don’t even know the names of these so-called powers!"
"Trust them," Theo’s calm voice echoed from the far side of the hall. Everyone turned their attention to him. His tone carried quiet confidence — a certainty that could only come from control. "Their existence depends on that trust."
Betrayal? Impossible. Those alliances weren’t built on loyalty, but on leverage. Every agreement between the Shadow Swords and those foreign powers had been forged with binding contracts and hidden pressure. Who would willingly risk involvement in a cosmic war unless compelled by something far greater than loyalty? Each of those fifty powers owed the Shadow Swords more than they could afford to lose.
And as for the remaining thirty-five powers that had refused the Crumbled Dreams Empire’s offer — they would pay a far heavier price. The Shadow Swords would ensure that their secrets, their scandals, and their forbidden research reached the light of the public eye, destroying them from within.
"He’s right," one of the Nexus States murmured, his voice calm yet cold. "Anyone foolish enough to turn against us would be signing their own extinction."
Marshal Tharn exhaled slowly, his voice gruff. "I only hope we haven’t just purchased trouble wearing another empire’s face. We’ve always stood on our own strength."
Heigra’s faint smile returned, serene and dangerous. "The first signs of these agreements with our new allies have already arrived. Three hundred fleets, have reached the western front — accompanied by equipment to arm over ten million soldiers. Each of those vessels now bears the proud color of our grand empire. And along with them came massive reserves — supplies, fuel, talismans, energy ores — enough to wage war for a hundred years without pause."
"Really?!"
"All that at the western front already?"
"...Did they send their entire forces in one go?!"
"Hey," Marshal Tharn barked toward Theo, his voice rising slightly, "what’s the real story behind these allies of yours?"
Theo only smiled, calm and sharp as a blade. "Didn’t you hear earlier, Marshal? His Majesty is my father’s partner. It’s our honor — and our duty — to assist the empire in its moment of need."
A deep silence followed.
"...." Tharn frowned again, his instincts tightening. Something about that human unsettled him. He couldn’t say why, but he could feel it — a strange unease that crawled at the back of his mind.
Yet even that unease was overshadowed by something undeniable — Theo’s sheer presence.
Despite being a human among beings of Nexus-level might, he didn’t appear out of place. His posture, his calm, the faint aura of command that radiated from him — all of it declared one truth:
He belonged in that hall.
TapTap
Draice tapped twice on the map platform, the sound sharp in the tense stillness of the hall. "At present, along the western border we have deployed three hundred of our own fleets alongside three hundred allied fleets," he announced, his voice steady and precise. "Fifteen million of our soldiers have already been outfitted with gear and weapons, and they’ve been distributed among those fleets — only twenty-five thousand soldiers assigned to each fleet— which means this upcoming confrontation will most likely be a battle of the skies, not a protracted struggle for ground control." He let the weight of that fact hang in the air for a moment.
He continued, pointing to the clustered markers on the map, "With a combined six hundred fleets we will move at the signal to relentlessly bombard those fifteen planets. Each target harbors between thirty and forty fleets and anywhere from one to three million soldiers apiece. These fifteen planets are the main enemy strongholds, the hubs where their power is concentrated."
Draice folded one hand behind his back, the posture formal and composed. "The operation must be executed quickly and decisively. We will divide our forces so that each general commands forty fleets, arranged into fifteen squadrons. Each squadron will be charged with utterly destroying its designated planet — leaving none alive, permitting no escape. This must be a sweeping, total annihilation."
He fixed their faces with a hard look. "The purpose of such an attack is threefold: to terrorize the enemy, to shatter their morale, and to drastically reduce their numbers. If we can eliminate those roughly five hundred to six hundred fleets in a single, devastating blow, the course of this war will flip in our favor even before the larger campaigns begin."
"...Even granting the advantage of striking first, even with reinforcements from our new allies, wouldn’t the battle still amount to an even fight?" Marshal Livia interjected, brow knitted in concern. "Forty fleets against about forty fleets — We have the first strike advantage, but their advantage lies in defending their worlds and in fortifications, and we are roughly equal in numbers."
Tharn raised his head and fixed Hedric with a grave look from above the map. "Toppling five hundred to six hundred fleets and tens of millions of soldiers will not be simple, Your Majesty," he said bluntly. He tapped a cluster on the map for emphasis. "If we possess the advantage of the first strike, then why not make it certain and minimize our losses? Selecting five or six of those targets and ensuring their destruction would be far more prudent and achievable."
Hedric met Tharn’s stare without wavering. "Destroying five planets may at best remove two hundred enemy fleets," he said coldly, "and that would only drive the remainder to tighten their ranks and squander whatever advantage we held. Consider the big picture: there are more than three thousand fleets gathered within the Aurora field at this moment. If we take out only two hundred and leave the rest intact, who are we to face afterward once they know of our approach? This initial campaign must succeed, even if it costs us half our forces!" Hedric’s voice rose, edged with the ruthless certainty of his command.
He went on with grim determination, "Within those fifteen strongholds identified by the Shadow Swords are the major allied contingents of our enemies — the ones the Shadow Swords have been unable to destabilize through other means. If they are struck with overwhelming force from the outset and removed from the equation, the task of dealing with the remaining enemies becomes far easier. At the very least, the survivors will be cowed, fearful enough to avoid another massive muster against us."
Hedric’s gaze swept over the marshals, settling on them one by one. "This is not merely a preemptive raid," he said, his tone hard and uncompromising. "If we prevail in this great battle, we will gain a chance to survive, to regroup, and ultimately to triumph. But if we fail to annihilate them, or if we incur losses greater than half while attempting it, then we will have squandered the war before it truly begins. The stakes are absolute — this first strike must be decisive."