The Guardian gods

Rattan was ecstatic. This domain was the perfect representation of his true nature an unwillingness to be on the front lines when he could use his creations and magic to keep his enemies at bay. He could now build new, powerful weapons to strengthen his ogre allies, all while maintaining full control over them to maximize their usage. The Architect domain was his ultimate tool, a physical manifestation of his ambition to control his life and other's life.

With the ogres now firmly in his corner, Rattan's focus shifted to the next part of his grand plan. The ogres were the brawn, but he needed more. He needed the ratfolk, his own people, a faction the empire had long discarded yet still found plenty of use for in war. They were a necessary, but ultimately disposable, pawn. Rattan knew that by using his current influence and fame as a hero to bring the ratfolk to his side, he would not only gain valuable allies but also deal another devastating blow to the empire's ability to wage war.

Meanwhile, in the imperial palace, the Emperor and Vellok were not faring well. The demons, led by the enigmatic Lord Zarvok, were making alarming advancements. Their progress was directly proportional to the empire's internal strife. The more the ogres defied orders and fought amongst themselves, the faster the demonic legions marched.

The Emperor and Vellok watched their carefully crafted plans unravel. Their initial strategy—to send all their remaining sixth-tier mages to a single point of attack—now looked bleak with each passing day. The very foundation of their power was crumbling, and the internal conflict they had hoped to manage was now a far greater threat than the enemy at their gates.

Despite all that had happened, the Emperor and Vellok still couldn't comprehend how Kaelen, even after his fall from grace, had managed to regain his footing so completely. They were forced to face their own hubris. For centuries, they had seen his power and ambition firsthand, yet they had still somehow managed to underestimate him.

The plan they had meticulously crafted to defeat the demon lord without him now lay in tatters. A crucial aspect they needed to win the war—the unified narrative and morale of the army—was now completely under Kaelen's control. In just a few short weeks, he had done what they could not, bending the soldiers' loyalty to his will.

Whether they liked it or not, they were now forced to inform him of their plans and seek his help. The very brother they had planned to discard was now the only piece that could save them from their own crumbling empire.

The Emperor and Vellok stood before the massive war map, its glowing lines now a chaotic mess of red and blue. The silence between them was heavy with the weight of their failure. Their carefully laid plans lay in tatters, a direct result of their own arrogance. The man they had sought to eliminate was now the only one who could save them.

"We have no choice," the Emperor finally said, his voice a low rumble. "We must invite him."

Vellok's expression was grim. "He won't come without a show of respect, brother. He knows the position he holds. A simple summons will be seen as an insult."

"Then we will show him respect," the Emperor retorted, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Draft a formal invitation. Address him as 'King Kaelen, Hero of the Empire.' Tell him we require his counsel on matters of great importance. We must make it seem as though we are seeking his wisdom, not begging for his help."

Vellok nodded, a flicker of cold calculation in his eyes. They were inviting a wolf into the fold, and they had no idea what he would demand in return. They decided to send the invitation with a high-ranking, trusted official, a man who could convey the gravitas of the situation without betraying their desperation.

As the official departed, carrying the sealed scroll, the two brothers were left alone once more. They had tried to build a new empire, free of Kaelen's shadow, but they had only succeeded in handing him the stage he needed to grow.

The invitation arrived not with a flutter of dove's wings, but with the heavy, reluctant steps of a high-ranking official. He was a distinguished man, a seasoned diplomat known for his unwavering composure, yet he stood at the foot of Kaelen's throne with a visible tremor in his hands.

Rattan, in the guise of Kaelen, remained on his throne. He watched the man's discomfort with silent, cruel pleasure. This was a pawn he had never even met.

"An invitation from His Majesty, the Emperor," the official said, his voice strained as he presented a rolled scroll with a golden seal. "He and Chancellor Vellok request your presence for a matter of great importance."

Kaelen took the scroll, his immense hand dwarfing the delicate parchment. He didn't open it. Instead, he let it rest on his palm for a long moment, the silence of the hall stretching until it was unbearable. The official shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the motionless tech puppets that lined the walls.

Finally, with a subtle smirk, Kaelen broke the seal. His eyes scanned the formal script, and a flicker of genuine amusement crossed his face as he saw the words: "King Kaelen, Hero of the Empire." They were humbling themselves. They were desperate.

"Tell my brother and Vellok that I will consider their request," Kaelen rumbled, his voice dripping with mock solemnity. "I will grace them with my presence once I have finished with my own matters. There is much to be done to ensure the health and well-being of the ogre army, after all."

He handed the scroll back to the official. "You may return to your masters with this message. And do tell them I am quite well. The return to my home has been most... refreshing."

The official bowed deeply, a bead of sweat tracing a line down his temple, and left as quickly as his dignity would allow. Kaelen was left alone, a triumphant, wicked grin spreading across his face.

Some time later, Rattan blinked, and standing before him, as if conjured from thin air, were the Emperor and Vellok. Rattan froze in shock, a wave of cold dread washing over him. A new, terrifying clarity hit him, and he cursed himself inwardly, "I might have gone too far this time." He struggled to regain his composure, Kaelen's memories flickering through his mind, confirming that while such an unannounced appearance from these two was rare, it wasn't entirely unprecedented.

Vellok, his eyes blazing with a fierce golden light, stared directly at Rattan. The immense pressure of a sixth-tier stage descended upon the ogre king, a palpable force that sought to freeze Rattan to his very core. Outwardly, however, Rattan maintained a facade of complete calm, as if everything were entirely under his control.

Thankfully, the Emperor stepped forward, placing a hand on Vellok's shoulder. Vellok took a moment, visibly gathering his composure, and in that brief reprieve, Rattan finally found his voice.

Rattan, maintaining Kaelen's stoic demeanor despite the internal tremor, spoke with an even tone. "My brothers, I believe I was the one supposed to pay you a visit for your summons."

The Emperor's blue eyes, a startling glimpse through the shadow of his hood, fixed on Kaelen. "Indeed, but we cannot afford to wait. Each moment we spend on senseless politics brings the enemy closer to our motherland."

"How may I be of help then, brother?" Kaelen asked, his voice carefully conveying a hint of weariness. "As you can see, I am not in my best health and need time to recuperate."

Vellok's voice, though no longer backed by the crushing pressure, was sharp. "Your actions these past weeks haven't been those of someone recuperating."

To be even more convincing, Rattan pushed himself to his feet, a subtle frown etching his face as if he were enduring a hidden pain. He spread his arms slightly, a gesture of weary openness. "I lost my people in my last war, my brothers, and my home is quite vast, so it gets lonely at times. I merely invited some friends and shared a few things." His gaze held a feigned vulnerability. "I was merely trying to gain back what was once rightfully mine."

"Merely invited some friends?" Vellok scoffed, his golden eyes narrowing, though his power remained reined in. "Your 'invitation' has paralyzed our military command structure, Kaelen. Ogre legions defy imperial mandates, supply lines are in disarray, and the Mage Council is in an uproar over this... 'knowledge' you've so generously shared."

Rattan maintained his pained expression, his feigned weariness impeccable. "The generals simply need a firm hand, brother. They have grown accustomed to… less direct leadership in my absence. As for the knowledge," he added, a subtle, cold glint entering his eyes, "it is not my fault if the mages find a glimmer of hope among their allies threatening. Perhaps they should reflect on why their 'authority' is so easily challenged."