The king stared at the map for a while.
As he did, the women in the background began to hum a tune, one quite familiar to the prince. It was a song of war, one that Byzeth soldiers had sung as the Draken Empire slaughtered them in his last life.
As they hummed in fine melody, Aric gazed at the women, noticing their predatory glint. Beneath their large, bare bosoms and plump, soft thighs, they ran their hands sensually as they bit their lips and gazed at the prince in a seductive manner. There was danger in their eyes; these women were more than just courtesans.
However, that was not Aric’s problem. Not now.
Aszer rubbed his chin, considering the proposal. "But the towns you’re suggesting—here, and here—are near imperial garrisons. We risk drawing attention to ourselves too soon."
"That’s the point," Aric said, his voice cold and calculating. "We want them to know something is happening, but not to realize the full scope. These raids will be surgical strikes—quick, brutal, and unpredictable. We hit them hard, take what we need, and disappear before reinforcements can arrive."
The king frowned, pacing around the map. "Still, I’m not convinced. What about the supply lines? We need resources to fund this rebellion, and these towns won’t provide enough."
Aric tapped a finger on the map, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "The towns are just the beginning. Once we’ve created enough chaos, we move on to larger targets. By then, the empire’s forces will be spread too thin, and they’ll be too disorganized to stop us."
Aszer stared at the map, the wheels in his mind turning. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I see... It’s a sound strategy. Strike at their heart while their hands are too busy putting out fires."
Aric smirked. "Exactly. And with my knowledge of the empire’s internal workings, we’ll know where to strike next."
The king stared at the prince for a long moment, then chuckled darkly. "I must admit, Valerian, your mind is as sharp as you say. I like your plan."
Realizing further resistance was futile, Aric exhaled softly. "Very well, Your Grace. I will accompany the raids."
The prince wanted to clench his fist but restrained himself. He turned back to Aszer with an unreadable expression. "When do we leave?"
The king stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating the prince’s question. He knew a strategy like this couldn’t be delayed for too long, so immediate action was likely their best option.
"We leave three days from now. Meet us at the castle at dawn."
With that, Aric stepped back, brushing off the hands still lingering on him, and calmly adjusted his cloak, pulling it back over his shoulders with quiet precision. The women around him giggled and whispered to each other as they watched him, their touch still lingering on his skin.
Aric nodded respectfully, first to the women, then to the king. "Ladies. Your Grace."
Without another word, he turned and exited the chamber.
The king had played a smart move, and perhaps for the first time since Aric had arrived in Byzeth, things were not going according to plan. Aric had intended to orchestrate the downfall of the Byzeth government while their forces were out fighting pointless battles, but Aszer was smart enough to drag him along.
If he was on the battlefield, orchestrating anything would become far too difficult. All his plans would be severely crippled.
Aric would have insisted on refusing to accompany them, but he had come too far to make the king even slightly suspicious of his ambitions. The moment he was doubted, his plan to thin the Byzeth forces would be easily figured out, and if the king decided against multiple raids, it would become problematic.
"Aszer, you bastard."