The Guardian gods
Chapter 531

Chapter 531: 531

"To be clear," Rattan continued, his voice softening slightly, though his resolve remained iron-clad, "this is not an act of blind defiance. This is a strategic necessity. The empire has proven, time and again, their unwillingness to protect their own, to truly equip those on the front lines. They sacrifice the ratmen, and in doing so, they endanger us all. The Abyss cares nothing for their petty politics or their hierarchical arrogance. It simply consumes."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet carrying immense weight. "When the citizens of the empire witness the true scale of the demonic threat, not through sanitized reports, but through the raw, unfiltered images of battle, and see it being fought by those they’ve been taught to scorn, their perception will shift. And when they see the Abyss pushed back, not by the empire’s might, but by the very mages they’ve suppressed... that, my friends, is when true change begins."

He paused, allowing his words to settle. "The risk is immense, yes. But the alternative is far graver: a slow, agonizing slide into oblivion, ruled by an indifferent empire, and consumed by an ever-advancing darkness. Which future do you choose?"

Rattan let his words hang in the air, the weight of their implications pressing down on every mage in the room. He could see the calculations in their eyes, the rapid weighing of risk against reward, fear against conviction. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and burgeoning resolves.

Finally, a goblin with intricate magical tattoos swirling around his arms, known for his meticulous spell-crafting, stepped forward. His voice was steady, though a tremor of raw emotion underscored it. "Arch-Mage, I’ve seen what the Abyss does to the borderlands. My family... they’re still there. If this gamble offers even a chance to push back that tide, to show the empire what true defense looks like, then I’m in. We can’t sit by and watch them fall."

Nods of agreement rippled through a significant portion of the room. The lanky mage with spectacles adjusted them on his nose, a determined glint in his eye. "The empire takes our research, suppresses our findings, and squanders our potential," he stated, his voice ringing with newfound confidence. "Let them see what that ’squandered potential’ can truly achieve when wielded with purpose."

Yet, the dissenters remained. The stocky, scarred goblin mage spoke again, his voice strained. "But what about our families within the imperial capital? They’ll be vulnerable. The empire’s reach is long, and their retribution... it’s legendary." His gaze was fixed on Rattan, pleading for reassurance, for a plan that accounted for the inevitable fallout.

Rattan acknowledged their fear with a solemn nod. "I understand your concerns, and they are valid. But you all seem to forget, we are not fighting alone. We have some truly significant backing from the capital city. The safety of your families is nothing to worry about with this figure watching closely."

A ripple of renewed curiosity, mixed with a hint of awe, spread through the room. One of the mages, his eyes flickering with an ambitious light, stepped forward. "Rattan," he said, his voice firm, "I think it’s time you tell us about this important sponsor we’ve been hearing about for years. We’ve come this far; we deserve to know."

Rattan’s gaze held the young mage’s, unwavering. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips, a knowing glint in his eyes. He had anticipated this question, for it was the natural progression of their trust and commitment.

"Patience, my friends," Rattan replied, his voice calm but firm. "Some truths are best revealed not through words, but through action. The identity of our patron is a powerful card, one that must be played at the precise moment to achieve its maximum effect. Revealing it prematurely would only put them, and by extension, all of us, at unnecessary risk."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "What I can tell you is this: this individual holds a position of immense influence within the very heart of the empire. Their resources are vast, their reach extensive, and their dedication to our cause is absolute. They are playing a long game, a dangerous game, one that requires absolute discretion."

Rattan’s gaze swept across the room, meeting the eyes of each mage. "Trust in this: the protection afforded to your families is genuine. This sponsor has already demonstrated their capability in ensuring our work has remained at its full capacity for so long. When the time is right, when their involvement will yield the greatest impact against the empire’s complacency and the encroaching Abyss, then, and only then, will their identity be unveiled." He left them with that, a mixture of reassurance and tantalizing mystery, knowing it would fuel their resolve even further.

A scattering of hushed conversations filled the room as the mages, their faces alight with a mixture of apprehension and renewed determination, began to file out. A few clapped Rattan on the shoulder, their eyes burning with quiet resolve. "For a better empire," one murmured, a mantra of their shared purpose. Another simply offered a firm nod before vanishing through the doorway. They had places to be, preparations to make, for the monumental event awaiting them under tomorrow’s morning light.

Soon, the room was empty, save for Rattan. The lingering scent of ozone and old parchment hung in the air, a familiar comfort. The silence, however, was short-lived.

"That was a great speech," a deep, resonant voice broke the stillness, carrying a familiar cadence that sent a shiver, not of fear, but of profound recognition, down Rattan’s spine. "It’s hard to imagine you were once an indecisive child, unsure of his path."

A section of the stone wall near the back of the room shimmered, then peeled away like a discarded skin, revealing a figure stepping out from the shadows. It was the same goblin mage who, years ago, had first brought a hesitant, lost Rattan into the service of his "New Lord." His eyes, ancient and knowing, held a subtle amusement.

Rattan turned, his posture relaxed, devoid of the deference or apprehension that might have once marked their previous encounters. There was no power dynamic, no lingering fear from his past. Instead, a subtle, knowing smile touched his lips. "All this," Rattan said, his voice imbued with a quiet confidence, "would not have been possible if not for the grace of his highness."

The old mage chuckled, a dry, raspy sound that held no malice. "And a better boot licker at that." Rattan’s eyes flickered, a momentary spark of something unreadable, but he held his tongue, his subtle smile remaining in place.

The mage settled into a nearby chair, his gaze fixed on Rattan. "One of your friends brought up an important point that is very likely to happen. The empire will not give your live broadcast much lifespan; it will be swiftly interfered with." He leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly. "I hope you know that and have planned for it?"

Rattan’s subtle smile widened, a flicker of genuine amusement now in his eyes. He met the older mage’s gaze evenly, a silent acknowledgment of the wisdom that had guided him for so long. "Did you truly think I haven’t considered the empire’s immediate reaction?" Rattan replied, his voice laced with quiet confidence. "Their first instinct will be to shut down the magical frequencies, to sever the visual links, to plunge their citizens back into blissful ignorance."

He pushed off the workbench, walking slowly towards a map of the empire spread across a nearby table, illuminated by a faint magical glow. "But that is precisely what we anticipate. The initial shockwave of imagery will be enough. The first few minutes, perhaps even moments, of raw, unedited footage of the Abyss tearing at their doorstep, and the ratmen, once despised, fighting valiantly with our weapons... that’s all we need."

Rattan traced a finger along the map, from the capital outwards. "Even if they cut the broadcast within minutes, the seeds of doubt, of fear, and of revelation will have been planted. Rumors will spread like wildfire, twisting and growing with each retelling. The empire’s carefully constructed narrative of control and supreme power will be fractured." He looked back at the older mage, a triumphant glint in his eye. "And once fractured, it is far easier to shatter."

The old mage simply watched him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his own face. "Indeed," he murmured. "The truth, once glimpsed, is a persistent thing. But you are too confident, boy. What makes you think you can hold on for a few minutes? A few seconds is the best you can hope for."

Rattan, still smiling, made a delicate teacup and kettle appear in his hand, which he placed in front of the older mage. He poured the mage a steaming cup. "My confidence comes not from myself, but from His Grace himself," Rattan replied, his voice soft but resonant. "I know with him, anything is possible."

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