I want to take them home.

Upon entering the city, Mo Fei stood in the square before his enormous pavilion, waiting for the envoy from Devil’s Isle. He had no idea that the visitor was actually the highest commander of Devil’s Isle.

At last, the two stood face to face.

The general from Devil’s Isle, seeing the grand pavilion behind Mo Fei, realized that this ordinary-looking young man was not merely a general, but a sovereign.

“Udos Napin, Military Commander of Devil’s Isle, greets Your Majesty.” No matter what, he was only a military commander, while the other was a monarch. Though he, too, was of royal blood, the etiquette was indispensable.

“General Udos, you need not be so formal.” Mo Fei acknowledged his status with a gentle nod. “Please, General Udos, come inside.”

The two entered the pavilion, now empty save for themselves. The guards waited outside.

They stared at each other in silence, the air between them heavy and oppressive.

After a long while, the general from Devil’s Isle spoke first. “I believe Your Majesty knows why I have come.”

“I do,” Mo Fei replied calmly.

“Then what does Your Majesty think?”

“You will not win, nor will I lose,” Mo Fei answered, still in his tranquil tone.

“That sounds pleasant, but I know Your Majesty is sparing my dignity,” Udos Napin laughed heartily. “We have marched far and wide, and now, in this situation, Devil’s Isle has lost.”

Mo Fei was relieved by the commander’s candor. He understood, however, that the loss was only of strategic objectives, not an utter military defeat.

“I have never been to Devil’s Isle, but I’ve learned much from elsewhere. I know it is a beautiful place, its people not inclined toward war, only lacking certain things,” Mo Fei sighed. “This is why you seek to seize this continent, isn’t it?”

Udos Napin said nothing, tacitly admitting Mo Fei’s words.

“There’s no need for war; you could obtain what you seek in other ways.”

“Is that possible?”

“Of course.”

“Then why, when we sent people before to negotiate trade, did your continent refuse? Had they agreed, we wouldn’t be at war now.”

“You never abandoned your intent to invade by force. From the beginning, you clung to the hope of conquering this continent. Those critical ores—how could we sell them to you?”

Udos Napin lowered his head, acknowledging the truth. There truly was a faction on the island, high in authority, whose thoughts were ever bent on military conquest. The war a century ago had been instigated by them, ending in chaos and ruin. Though their side had the advantage, in the end they had to retreat, gaining nothing.

He recalled his father’s tales of the continent in those days—fires everywhere, resistance at every turn. Empires could be taken, but not controlled, much less held. Whenever their armies paused, swarms of locals would surge forth to attack or harry them. Though the enemy suffered terrible losses, so did the forces of Devil’s Isle.

But such things would never happen again. When he returned and assumed command of Devil’s Isle, those people... Hmph.

“If you abandon your ambitions of invasion, I can promise you will gain things you could never achieve by force,” Mo Fei continued. “Your population is far smaller than ours. If we mobilized, we could muster ten against each of yours, or even more.”

Mo Fei was not exaggerating. Devil’s Isle was greatly outnumbered. If the continent truly mobilized, Devil’s Isle would have no hope. Yet he was merely speaking hypothetically—such unity was possible only if Mo Fei first unified the continent.

“No problem. When I return, my father will pass the throne to me. I do not wish for constant war. Unless someone troubles Devil’s Isle, I do not want to maintain such a vast army.”

Unexpectedly, the visitor was a prince—this would make things much easier. “Then when you return…”

“Those who incited conflict between us will not remain on the island. Their ideas are too peculiar—despite past lessons, they press for another war. Devil’s Isle was not always like this.”

“Very well. Perhaps one day I will visit that beautiful island, and we’ll talk again. Yesterday, I ordered our warships to cease attacks. If you show true sincerity, we will become friends.”

They discussed neither interests nor disputes, nor did they sign any treaty. Yet Mo Fei knew that if this prince truly took power upon his return, at least for now, the war between the continent and Devil’s Isle would come to an end.

The prince of Devil’s Isle felt the same. He knew that whatever Mo Fei promised would be fulfilled. Never before had he trusted anyone as he did this day—not someone he had only just met, but as if they were old friends.

They stood, clasped hands, and so, as if by whimsy, the war ended.

Stepping out of the pavilion, both raised their heads to the blue sky and laughed aloud.

…

Standing at the docks, watching the ships fade into the horizon, Mo Fei sighed. “You don’t blame me for acting on my own, do you?”

“No.” Accompanying him was the elder emperor of the Flying Dragon Empire. “This outcome is far better than I had anticipated.”

“We had no assurance of victory, only a sense of mutual destruction. I could not sacrifice all my brothers for the continent. I am not so noble,” Mo Fei admitted, never having felt such defeat before. “I must bring them home.”

“Master…” Cain, moved to tears, stood to the side. This time, the berserkers suffered little loss, but over a thousand remained atop the Flying Dragon Empire’s city walls. The dwarven crossbowmen fared worse, losing nearly three thousand.

The Death Riders of the Death Empire had shone in this war, suffering no casualties or injuries. This prompted Mo Fei, upon returning to the Death Empire, to place heavy cavalry construction on the imperial agenda.

“I must return.” Mo Fei spoke with sorrow. Since the days of Mist City, no one at his side had died—until now. “I must bring my brothers home.”

“You…” The old emperor of the Flying Dragon Empire looked at Mo Fei, expecting him to ask for something, but Mo Fei said nothing at all.

It was not a triumphant victory. Mo Fei brought home the ashes of nearly five thousand fallen warriors of the Death Empire. As they departed, the soldiers and citizens of the Flying Dragon Empire lined the roads, their ranks stretching beyond sight.

Since the Death Empire had marched to the Flying Dragon Empire, since Devil’s Isle had announced its withdrawal overnight, since the imperial city learned the Death Empire had made no demands before retreating, the honest citizens and mountain folk of the towns all watched with respect, bidding farewell to this legendary, ferocious army. They felt that, were it not for this mighty force, the Flying Dragon Empire might now be engulfed in war.

The allied armies of the empires suffered the worst—of nearly two hundred thousand troops, only less than thirty thousand returned, due to disparities in arms and equipment. Compared to Devil’s Isle, the three-to-one casualty ratio shocked every empire on the continent.

Yet, without doubt, these thirty thousand became the backbone of their respective armies. They had witnessed the ferocity of Devil’s Isle, but also the formidable warriors of the Death Empire—especially the black-armored Death Riders, unstoppable as a tide of annihilation. Even Devil’s Isle could not withstand this deathly torrent.

From Death City to the Death Empire, the black banners flew high, but were lowered to half-mast before the returning warriors arrived—a sign of the continent’s profound reverence for its fallen heroes. The bells of Death City rang on, their stirring tones echoing far and wide, heralding the glory of these imperial heroes as their souls returned to the capital.