"Andos, are you there?"
Calliphone knocked lightly on Andos's door.
There was no response from inside, but Calliphone heard faint sounds, the soft scratching of a brush on canvas.
The young woman frowned slightly and pushed the door open without hesitation. Sunlight slanted through the window into the room. Andos sat before his easel, brush in hand, intently applying paint to the canvas. He paused briefly at the sound of the door opening but did not turn around.
This young prince perfectly inherited the noble bloodline of the Lochos royal family. His sharply defined profile was as handsome as a marble sculpture. However, unlike the typical heroic bearing of royal family members, Andos was surrounded by an artist's unique melancholic aura, much like the portraits he painted, forever shrouded in hazy shadows.
Calliphone asked, "Andos, brother and A-Bo are about to march to war. Aren't you really going to see them off?"
Andos's face was shrouded in gloom. "See them off to kill people?"
Calliphone frowned slightly. "This is a necessary war!"
"You always manage to come up with high-sounding excuses. I can't argue with you." Andos looked up, his eyes showed an unshakable sorrow. "But war is war. No matter what reasons you use to whitewash it, no matter how beautiful the cloak you drape over it, you can't change its bloody, brutal essence."
"Brother, you are too sentimental."
"Are you accusing me of being unworthy of being a prince? Perhaps that's true."
Calliphone sighed helplessly. "Brother, I never said such a thing. Please don't be deliberately twisted and misinterpret me, alright?"
Andos was silent for a long time, then said softly, "Sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that."
"I can understand you, brother. But why can't you try to understand Father and A-Bo?"
"Understand their high-sounding excuses? I can't."
"War is like Mount Telephassa. Just because you don't look at it, does it cease to exist?"
"I thought you believed, like him, that there are no gods."
"I don't believe in the Olympian gods, but Mount Telephassa is there."
Calliphone said, "In six hundred years, Lochos has had no fewer than a hundred border conflicts with other city-states. Each conflict cost many warriors their lives. Isn't that war?"
"The reason there hasn't been an all-out war in Olympia is that the enemy cannot breach Lochos's sturdy walls. It was the heroic sacrifices of countless Lochos warriors that bought this superficial peace."
"And now, the steel behemoths A-Bo designed can destroy enemy walls. If these tanks fell into the hands of other city-states, would you pray they could resist the urge to attack Lochos?"
Andos shook his head. "That's just your assumption. It hasn't happened. The reality is, we are the ones starting the war."
Calliphone argued, "Don't you understand yet, brother? Without unification, there is no peace!"
"Caelan taught you that, didn't he? He's a good teacher, but his ideals are too grand. I'm destined not to understand them."
"You can't pretend war won't happen just because of temporary peace!"
"At least it's not happening now. At least we didn't start it."
"Brother, you are too weak." Calliphone's judgment was merciless. "If another city-state attacked Lochos, would you advise us to raise our hands and surrender for peace?"
Andos was stunned. Surrender was indeed the shortest path to peace. There was no faster way to achieve it. But such peace was utterly without dignity. The fate of the people would depend entirely on the conscience of the victorious nation. And history had long proven that those eager for war often had no conscience. Whoever advocated surrender would be reviled.
"Seek peace through struggle, and peace endures. Seek peace through compromise, and peace perishes."
"The world follows the law of the jungle. The weaker you appear, the more rampant your enemies become."
Andos smiled bitterly. "Calliphone, I am weak, but I am not stupid."
"I just oppose war. But if an enemy invades Lochos, no matter how weak I am, I would never choose to surrender!"
"Then why are you still hiding here?"
Faced with his sister's sharp question, Andos fell silent again.
"Do you think we started the war? No. We just exposed the lie of peace."
"For the past ten years, the twelve city-states have been secretly forming alliances and expanding armaments. Were they forming alliances to maintain peace?"
"Stop being naive, brother."
"War inevitably brings sacrifice and rivers of blood. Whoever denies the cruelty of war has lost their conscience."
"Precisely because of this, I trust A-Bo more."
"His war will be Olympia's shortest war. His peace will be Olympia's longest peace."
"He will end Olympia's chaos at the smallest cost. Only a unified Olympia can face our enemies."
Andos frowned, "If he truly unifies Olympia, what enemies will there be?"
"Your vision is too narrow, brother. If you would set aside your resentment and join us in Brother Caelan's teachings, you would understand how vast and wonderful the world is!"
"You mean the universe? I know there are many worlds in the universe, but they are too far from Olympia."
"Distance doesn't mean safety. And who told you they are all far away? Don't forget, our moon is right above our heads!"
Andos was confused. "What about the moon?"
Calliphone answered, "The Black Judges."
"But that's just a legend!"
Calliphone shook her head. "It's not a legend. They descended upon Olympia over six hundred years ago."
Andos's body visibly trembled.
"You've seen the play Antaram many times. You should understand that the war six hundred years ago truly happened."
"The gods are fictional, but the 'Golden Apple Legion' that fell from the sky was real."
"Though historical records don't explicitly state it, A-Bo found the truth in the ruins of the secret library. That war was caused by the Black Judges plundering Olympia."
"They destroyed all the nations on this land. The survivors fled the ruins and established the current city-states in the valleys."
"That's why all twelve city-states were founded six hundred years ago. None of our histories can be traced back further than that."
"Look at our walls. Why are they so magnificent?"
"Our ancestors remembered why they built them. Even though later generations forgot the reason, they kept adding layers, reinforcing them, using the walls as shields against other city-states."
"But our ancestors were actually defending against the Black Judges. They believed the Black Judges would return one day!"
"A divided Olympia cannot withstand the Black Judges. We must unify!"
Andos's voice became unusually dry. "Th-then why can't we tell the other city-states the truth? If we united..."
"Unite? Brother, you are still so naive."
"Even if we present the bloody truth before the city-states, they would choose to cover their eyes, just as you did."
"Until the Black Judges truly descend, they will live in a self-deceptive dream."
"They won't believe it. Or rather, they dare not believe it. You know the principle, Brother Caelan taught us. Cognitive dissonance theory."
"Even if doomsday is near, they will cling to their power, like drowning men grasping at a last straw."
"The city-states are suspicious of each other. Everyone is secretly preparing for war, waiting for the chance to annex their neighbors."
"Only when doomsday truly arrives will they wake up."
"Then it will be too late."
Andos's throat bobbed, but no sound came out.
Calliphone's voice softened. "Brother, we are different people."
"A-Bo's vision is broader than anyone's. He harbors noble ideals that mortals cannot comprehend."
"'If the mountain won't come to me, I will go to the mountain.' That's the most accurate description of him."
"You are the type who, knowing a meteor will strike you, still refuses to leave the house."
"You fantasize that sturdy walls can protect you, unaware they are nothing against a meteor."
"We can never become like A-Bo, but at least we should bravely open the door and look outside."
"The outside world is cruel, but also magnificent."
"It is all real. We should resist the cruelty of the world and appreciate its magnificence, rather than trapping ourselves forever in a dark cave."
Andos remained silent. He picked up his brush again.
Calliphone bit her lip. "It seems I still haven't convinced you. Alright then, brother. I have to go see off A-Bo and the others."
Calliphone turned and left. The door creaked shut behind her.
She had never held a sword or killed an enemy, but she still understood the cruelty of war.
Perturabo was Lochos's general. Herakon would also don armor and go to war. The former prince had become a qualified warrior. He didn't want to wait in the rear for victory; otherwise, how could he ever join the glorious Great Crusade?
Calliphone believed Perturabo would be safe. No one could kill him. But Herakon was different. Even though his status was noble, and he had personal guards protecting him with their lives, anyone could be sacrificed in war.
This departure might be forever.
Andos could refrain from seeing Perturabo off. He always believed Perturabo had started the war. But he should have come to see Herakon off. They were brothers of the same blood. Their bond was deeper than outsiders imagined.
Though Calliphone was their sister, she didn't belong to their circle. Her mind was elsewhere. She wanted to join Caelan and Perturabo's circle. Preferably, minus Perturabo. Not kick him out, but rather, she and Caelan would have their own small circle.
Just like how they were a family, but each had their own small circles. Dammekos didn't belong to any small circle, so he often felt lonely.
Calliphone didn't want that.
Though she was in Perturabo and Caelan's circle, Perturabo also had other circles behind her back, circles that only included him and his brothers, and Caelan. Since Perturabo could do it, why couldn't she?
Calliphone hiked up her skirts and ran up Lochos's towering walls. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted down at the army winding its way below, "Come back safely!"
The young woman's black hair whipped in the chilly breeze. Her voice echoed through the steep passes, gradually swallowed by the steady tramp of the distant army.
"What are you shouting for?"
Calliphone turned back in surprise. "You haven't left yet?"
Caelan couldn't help but laugh. "Since when is the commander-in-chief a front-line soldier? We're not returning in triumph."
Calliphone winked playfully. "Isn't 'returning in triumph' a bit redundant?"
Caelan deliberately put on a stern face. "Where's the redundancy? It's been used like this for ages, since the Song and Ming dynasties of ancient Terra. Even the founder of a poetic school used it in his poems. Don't just make things up. It's called redundancy for emphasis!"
As Calliphone's beautiful eyes danced, her view was suddenly blocked by a small mountain. She looked up slightly, pouting. "How come you haven't left either?"
"You want me to go?"
Perturabo gazed down at her. 'You're my sister, but don't think I don't know what you're thinking. No! You are my sister, and you can only be my sister. Don't get any ideas!'
'Father having so many sons is enough. A mother would only become a burden affecting the bonds between us.'
Perturabo's eyes were 'fierce.' Calliphone, who spent every day with him, understood, but she pretended not to.
Calliphone deftly sidestepped Perturabo, mustered her courage, and gave Caelan a gentle hug. "Come back safely, Brother Caelan."
She then turned to her brother. "And A-Bo."
"You don't care about my safety at all!" Herakon's tone was sour. "I'm your real brother!"
He wasn't necessarily trying to compete with Caelan and Perturabo, but could she at least pretend a little?
Calliphone quickly turned back. "You too. Don't die."
"That's so perfunctory!" Herakon complained, but a smile still appeared on his face.
His gaze searched the crowd, but he couldn't find the person he wanted to see.
"Andos."
Herakon sighed softly. His brother was too naive. He had protected Andos too well. If he couldn't even face Olympia's conflicts, how could he look towards the stars?
The galaxy was never kind to humanity. Even without the Great Crusade, war wouldn't stop because of human cowardice.
"Brother."
Herakon spun around and saw Andos's thin figure.
"Andos..."
Before Herakon could finish, Andos roughly shoved a painting into his arms. "Come back alive. Tell me about... your heroic deeds."
"Mm, I will!"
Herakon smiled and pressed his forehead against his brother's, just as they often did as children. "Because we promised."
...
"If war is unavoidable, at least keep the initiative in your own hands."
Perturabo stood on the cliff, overlooking the Kardikos Pass below. A wall hundreds of meters high stretched across it like an iron gate. This was the only road to the Dome City, behind which lay Kardis itself.
Herakon said, "The Kardisians call it the Unbreakable Iron Wall."
All city-states were built in easily defensible valleys. The mountains were their natural protection, and the walls guarded the only passes. Olympians tirelessly quarried stone, building the walls higher and higher. If their enemy were mortals, such walls would indeed be insurmountable. Lochos was the same.
Perturabo said, "No wall is unbreakable. We can breach it from the front. And the Black Judges... they can even bypass it."
Behind him, Perturabo's adjutants held their breath, their eyes burning as they looked at their general.
The roar of engines slowly tore through the valley's silence. Steel behemoths emerged from behind the ridge, two abreast.
Tracks crushed rock. Cannons pointed at the wall. They surged towards Kardis's Unbreakable Iron Wall like a torrent.
On Kardis's wall stood a tower shaped like a giant drum. Its surface was dotted with honeycomb-like firing ports, from which hundreds of gun barrels protruded. On the top circular platform, twelve heavy cannons were arranged radially, their muzzles uniformly pointing outward. The Kardisians called it Kardis's Blessing.
Even from Perturabo's perspective, their defensive layout was excellent. The Kardisians had spent six hundred years perfecting their defenses, plugging every minor flaw. But there was a technological gap between Olympia and the Black Judges.
The sturdy walls the Olympians prided themselves on might be annihilated with a single shot, a shot from beyond the sky. Their enemies wouldn't abide by chivalric rules, fighting with technology comparable to theirs. Neither would Perturabo.
"Boom!"
Perturabo heard an explosion. He saw a shell burst on a tank's flank, splinters and rock scratching against the armor. But the tank kept rolling forward, unstoppable as the tide of history. Kardis's black powder was too primitive. Even a direct hit would struggle to cause critical damage.
The tower on the wall continued spewing fire. A dense net of gunfire enveloped the battlefield. But the tank crews of the Anvil Camp strictly followed the Primarch's tactics. Each shell accurately blasted into a firing port. Cannons were overturned in the explosions. The defenders' screams were swallowed by the smoke. Gradually, the steel tide reached the city gate.
Kardis's proud gate was a meter thick, cast from solid steel.
"Zoris, your turn." Perturabo murmured.
A tank's hatch suddenly opened. Zoris jumped out, carrying a satchel charge half as tall as a man. These special explosives were too powerful; Olympia's casting techniques and materials couldn't fit them into shells. But they worked perfectly as satchel charges.
Under the tank's cover, Zoris attached the magnetized satchel charge to the gate and quickly scrambled back into the tank. All the vehicles simultaneously roared in reverse. The smoke from their tracks hadn't even settled when a deafening explosion swallowed the entire gate.
BOOM!
A blinding fireball rose from the gate. The shockwave, carrying rock fragments and metal shards, spread in a circular, shredding the nearby walls like paper. When the smoke cleared, the once-mighty gate was gone, leaving only a gaping, monstrous breach. The fractured wall sections were pockmarked, like wounds gnawed by a beast still smoking.
Herakon's mouth hung open.
He had believed Perturabo could breach the wall, but he hadn't expected Kardis's wall to be like paper!
.......
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