"So, Lehlia, the most powerful nation, has received tribute from those princes and decided to dispatch their Winged Hussars to join forces against me?"
Sitting upon his throne, Perturabo listened to the report from his new Spymaster, Boris Savinkov, regarding Lehlia's stance. He spoke with a cold indifference, as if he did not view the strongest nation in all of Kislev as a "definitive" threat.
"Yes. According to my intelligence network in the Lehlian capital of Krakow, Lehlia has provided aid to the princes you defeated, using the gold and jewelry offered as 'sincerity' as an excuse. They are deploying their world-famous Winged Hussars to march against you."
Savinkov nodded slightly as he answered his lord. After a brief pause for thought, a trace of anxiety flickered across his face.
"My Lord, although you are a man of great strategic vision and I believe you can unify all of Kislev, Lehlia is a formidable power. If such an entity joins this war abruptly, our situation will become extremely difficult."
After some hesitation, Savinkov spoke up to warn his master. After all, Lehlia was the power that had directly destroyed the previous Kislevite Empire; its fearsome reputation was well-known to every Kislevite.
Consequently, Savinkov viewed the prospect of fighting Lehlia with extreme trepidation. He did not favor the idea of Perturabo confronting Lehlia head-on.
"Savinkov is right. It is too risky to go to war with Lehlia so suddenly. This country is the strongest in Kislev, in no way comparable to the princes you defeated before. Lehlia can deploy elite Winged Hussars by the thousands."
"Against such a massive enemy force, the Streltsi you have trained and organized may not be enough. Perhaps we should follow the example of the Kislevite princes—scour the land for rare curios and treasures to send to the King and nobles of Lehlia, persuading them to remain neutral."
Mikhail, standing beside Perturabo, agreed with Savinkov. He also doubted that Perturabo could perfectly handle such a powerful adversary.
"Heh. Is this all the courage you possess? To be frightened by such an enemy?"
After listening to the advice of his Spymaster and his foster father, Perturabo gave a cold snort from his throne, as if the concerns of the two men before him were entirely redundant.
"What do you mean by that, Abo? Do you already have a plan?"
Hearing Perturabo's lack of concern, Mikhail and Savinkov were struck by surprise. They hadn't expected him to be so bold. Mikhail pressed for an explanation, hoping to understand his reasoning.
"Savinkov, tell me, is Lehlia also a feudal state? A feudal state just like those of the Kislevite princes?" Perturabo did not answer his foster father immediately, instead turning his cold gaze toward Savinkov with a question.
"It... it is indeed so, My Lord. In fact, the situation in Lehlia is even more pronounced. I have heard that Lehlian nobility is defined by bloodline rather than land. Thus, nobles make up nearly ten percent of their population—one noble for every hundred people."
"Do you believe that Lehlia is actually a hollow shell? That a single crushing defeat would cause it to collapse?"
Savinkov's eyes widened as a look of sudden realization dawned on him. He followed up with his own question.
"Exactly. If I achieve a sufficiently brilliant victory—a battle that slaughters a vast number of their nobility—then Lehlia will be crippled at its very core, rendered powerless to resist me," Perturabo nodded slightly and replied coldly.
"I was previously concerned that Lehlia would be cautious, refusing to enter the fray until I had defeated all the Kislevite princes. I thought I would have to find a way to provoke them into war. I did not expect them to personally intervene to help those princes. Truly... heaven is on my side." Perturabo added slowly, his voice laced with a chilling intensity.
"That is true. If you defeat the nation that brought the old Kislevite Empire to ruin, your prestige will soar to its absolute zenith. Everyone will unhesitatingly recognize you as the heir to the ancient Kislevite legacy, the new High Tsar!"
Mikhail grasped the thoughts of his foster son and pupil, speaking now with a tone of approval. As a monk well-versed in the classics, Mikhail immediately realized the immense reputation Perturabo could forge by defeating Lehlia.
"Yes, Mikhail. At the very place where the Kislevite Empire fell, I shall rise. I will use the corpses of the Lehlians to pave my path to the throne of the High Tsar of all Kislev."
Perturabo nodded slightly in response to Mikhail's words.
"Then, My Lord, how do you intend to defeat the Lehlians? Though your plan is magnificent, it relies entirely on its feasibility—and that feasibility depends on whether you can defeat the Winged Hussars."
Savinkov spoke again, his voice still tinged with worry as he reminded his lord of the reality.
"Indeed, Abo. How do you plan to defeat them?"
Mikhail nodded in agreement. This was an exceptionally grave problem. Perturabo needed a practical solution for how to overcome the Lehlian forces.
"Heh. Mikhail, do you remember the war machines I showed you? At the time, I didn't explain what they were for. But now, I can tell you."
"When the Winged Hussars of Lehlia encounter those iron beasts on the battlefield, they will realize that I am not a 'normal man' in their eyes. I am a... genius. A genius among geniuses."
Facing the inquiries of his foster father and mentor, Perturabo merely offered a thin smile. He explained slowly, his voice remaining devoid of even a trace of fear or anxiety.