Emperor Forged

by K D Robertson

  “When you say ‘these oni’ and ‘us,’ do you mean the single-horned oni down south with the two of us? Or are you referring to all of the oni of the Deridh Clan?” I cut in, my voice flat.

  Miya stared up at me. Her cup wavered. “Ilsa—”

  “Why are there only oni with a single horn serving under me, Miya?” I pressed.

  Silence, save for the clicking of a clock in the corner.

  “Before the siege, you said there was nowhere else for them.” I waited and sipped at my tea. “Miyasa, please. I want to understand. When we first struck a deal, you said you wanted to be mine. Right now, I’m making use of that. I need somebody to tell me what is actually happening within the oni I am supposed to be both protecting and leading an army of. Otherwise, our efforts might be wasted. I can’t force you, but if you don’t tell me, then I won’t ever know. That’s a power within your own hands, Miyasa.”

  The clock ticked. I wished it wasn’t in the room. The tea was nice, at least, a weaker blend that didn’t need milk and had an almost green color. Some of the older mystic foxes in the capital had drunk this, but they had always guarded it jealously with their many tails. What noble had Hish’s grandmother robbed for this?

  “Please call me Miya,” Miya whispered before covering her mouth with her teacup.

  “Please answer my questions, Miya. You are the only person I trust who has the answers to them,” I said. Well, I suspected Yasno had them but he wouldn’t say. The other oni likely did as well, but they steered well clear of whatever this problem was. Only Hish might really speak of it, but I didn’t know if she would actually capture the nuance. Given I suspected her clan had intentionally stunted her education, I had to view whatever she said through that lens.

  More than that, I wanted it to be Miya who told me. She was the one I truly did trust and wanted to continue to trust.

  She waited a little while longer, refilling our tea and making another batch. Taking the opportunity to inspect her bow, I noticed that it had some odd runes engraved into the wood. I almost didn’t realize they were runes. The only reason I did was because I felt their connection between the magical plane and this world. I vaguely recalled similar runes on other weapons held by the heralds, but the oni fought like demons to repossess them and I always yielded. The price had already been paid once before for stubbornness between us over Tornfrost’s corpse.

  Finally, Miya sat on the bed and patted it. I finished my tea and joined her. Leaning into my shoulder, she began to talk.

  “I told you that calling them demi-oni is a slur. That is not wholly correct. In truth, I am not sure what is really the slur,” Miya said, her voice shaking. “They are all oni to me, as they have been to every herald. However, to all others who have two horns, they are… lesser oni. Fit only for physical labor. Their ability to reach into the astral plane and safely use spiritual techniques is less, to the extent they have never been properly taught for as long as the heralds have existed.

  “With the Bulwark, the single-horned oni became the obvious choice for the military might of the Deridh Clan. Physically powerful, useless to society at large, and unable to produce proper children.”

  “Children?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I hesitated, then continued with a question I had been holding since I spoke with Hish long ago. “I understand that the single-horned oni are restricted from sex with other oni. Why?”

  “Because their children will only ever have a single horn. With a human, the result can have two. I have never understood, nor have the mothers, but somehow, the magically weaker race can result in magically stronger offspring,” Miya said, a bitter smile on her lips. “That made it worse, of course, in the minds of the rest of the oni. Those with a single horn were now weaker than humans.”

  I winced. The oni’s conclusion was an easy one to come to if incorrect. The Empire had the fortune of containing many nonhuman races, so the mechanisms that enabled magical interracial breeding were better known. I understood the problem or at least knew that it didn’t have to do with the amount of magical power anybody involved had.

  “Whatever magic is enabling oni to breed with other races works differently to when they breed with other oni,” I explained. “That’s how you get an oni rather than some strange half-breed to begin with. Dragons, elves, mystic foxes—they all work the same way. Magic is used to breed, and the race with the most magical power comes out on top. If the human was actually stronger, then the result would be different. You wouldn’t be talking about oni, for one thing.”

  Shrugging, Miya moved on. “Perhaps. It doesn’t change the reality. They gathered up all the oni with a single horn and turned them into an army.”

  “I’ve seen more two-horned oni attacking me than you and the herald,” I said.

  “That was a battle for our survival. Of course, other warriors contributed,” Miya said, looking at me in surprise. “This is not.”

  I blinked. What exactly was she getting at here?

  “They call themselves demi-oni because it is more credit than they are given elsewhere. One horn is half of what the rest of the oni have. That makes them half-oni. They attempted to take control of their name rather than accepting being lesser. Yet I cannot respect it. They have always been the vanguard of what all oni enjoy today, the future you have given them by stepping aside from the Bulwark,” Miya continued, her voice growing heated. She was no longer leaning against my shoulder and instead was staring straight ahead.

  Anger filled Miya’s voice. “You promised to protect the oni in exchange for support but they gave you only what they deemed expendable. Then they went off to enjoy the fruits of what so many others gave their lives for, without ever shedding any of their own blood or that of their families. If we all die down here and take the dragons with us, the mothers will be overjoyed. There is no honor there. This is not their empire. It is our empire. That is why this is our home, Mykah.” She looked me in the eyes now and took my hands in hers. “It is why we belong here. Why I belong here, with you. Please, Mykah, rule us as the emperor I know you can be. We will grant you your vengeance, but do not leave us behind.”

  Her impassioned plea echoed through my ears and bounced around my mind. I couldn’t help but stare into her eyes. They were wet, although I didn’t think Miya was about to cry.

  Vengeance had been all I could think about. I questioned my focus now. Was it only vengeance I wanted? Red eyes and fangs flashed in my mind and I recalled her words when we spoke earlier. Had I come down from the north with an army of elite warriors, the likes of which the Empire had not seen? If so, maybe their thoughts about me were all that mattered, at least for this moment?

  Did I want to be emperor?

  Perhaps not. But I did want to provide an empire for Miya, Yasno, Hish, and the other oni who had trusted in me more than anybody had since old Matthew Tornfrost.

  “Don’t say ‘us,’ Miya,” I said, leaning in close. “You’re important to me, too. Even more so than everybody else.”

  Then I kissed her. Her eyes opened slightly. Then she returned that kiss, her arms grasping around me, and she pulled me down on the bed.

  Miya rolled me over so that she was on top. Her hands tore at my clothes. Our tongues grappled in my mouth as Miya hungrily returned my kiss. I had a feeling my enthusiasm was going to be sorely outmatched by hers.

  “Mykah,” Miya moaned into my mouth.

  As I pulled at the top of Miya’s dress, I felt a hand around my length. She caressed me and I rapidly hardened. I had yet to free her massive breasts from her lacy underwear when she pulled back from the kiss. Her mouth was set in a wild smile.

  Then Miya slipped down my body and I felt her mouth around me moments later. She knew what she wanted and was taking it. I watched as she moved up and down along my length, her white tresses falling on my stomach and legs. Pleasure filled me, far too quickly for my liking. Miya was good.

  I grabbed Miya’s horns reflexively. She stopped and looked up at me. Her ex
pression seemed to increase the pleasure I felt, as her mouth was still wrapped around me. She slowly pulled herself away from me with a small popping noise.

  “You can use my horns,” she said, her voice dripping with lust. “Please.”

  Oh. Oh dear. Miya definitely knew what she wanted in bed.

  I used her horns as she slipped my length inside her mouth again. It was an experience I would not forget. Control over Miya’s every movement, as she stopped moving her head by herself now. Miya’s missing hand made it very clear she enjoyed this, her muffled moans not due to what she was doing with her mouth.

  After I peaked, Miya let me undress her. She stared into my eyes as I massaged her massive breasts. Their sheer size swallowed my hands and I lost myself in the pleasure of playing with them.

  I wasn’t allowed a moment longer to play than necessary, however. Miya pulled away once she deemed I was ready, the glistening between her legs from earlier proof that she had been ready for a long time. Pendulous breasts hung in front of me as she straddled my waist.

  Miya slid me inside her and her moan was loud enough that I suspected everybody in the citadel heard it. Her expression twisted in a mixture of lust and pleasure. She began to move and I matched her rhythm with my own movements.

  The tempo we reached was fast, Miya’s ass slapping noisily against my crotch with every movement. Heat rose up within me. I groaned in release. Miya let out a small scream. I felt her hit her crescendo moments later, as if she was responding to my own climax. She pulled herself down against my chest, her breasts rubbing against mine, and pushed her face into my neck.

  We held each other for minutes, Miya still slowly moving against me with her face buried in my neck. Was she hoping I would be able to continue if she kept it up? Because it was working, if slowly. I wasn’t superhuman in bed but she was.

  For a moment, I realized how lucky it was that Miya knew how to control her strength. I knew from past incidents how easy it was for a non-human partner to hurt somebody in bed. My ribs ached from phantom wounds.

  “I’m so glad you want me. All of me,” Miya said. She kissed me before she sat upright, still straddling my waist.

  Then she stared down at me, her expression eager.

  It was safe to say I did not get much sleep that night, nor was I haunted by any black dragons when I did find rest.

  Chapter 33

  The forges were quiet and the cavernous foundry shrouded in darkness, yet I could feel the heat scorching my skin. Light from the fires of those few furnaces that were burning peeked through the grates below me. The fires of industry had begun to burn beneath the citadel.

  Malenko was quietly running up furnaces and ensuring that the various forges, wheels, cutting instruments, tools, and, most importantly, supplies of water were all available to each craftsman. There were only a dozen of them, each a master that no doubt lived a veritably palatial life compared to most in the city. Yet here they were, about to sweat and toil away at some of the finest and most difficult work in the Empire. They did it because nobody else could. They did it because they couldn’t do it anywhere else.

  “Dwarves in human form” was how Malenko’s master had called the few of us who had passed his training regimen all those decades ago. No doubt Malenko was keeping up the same strict standards. They had built this place for five times the number. The foundries elsewhere in the city were no doubt brimming with so many people that safety standards were laughable, but here there were no cut corners in spite of the mastery every individual had.

  I looked over at my workstation. No furnace for me, simply because I didn’t need the heat. I was rune-crafting, which was all about magic and concentration. Heat introduced a timing factor that a proper rune-crafter shouldn’t allow to affect the result. All it took was a single lapse in judgment because I had to race the cooling iron, and that was a whole piece wasted. To say nothing of materials that needed magic applied to them to handle high temperatures.

  Smithing and rune-crafting were sciences, whatever one thought of the magic that went into them. In truth, magic was a science as well. We simply understood it less and could bend the rules a lot more as a result.

  “So what are you looking to produce, old man?” Malenko asked as he approached me. His craftsmen were busy preparing their stations in the background, which gave us plenty of time this morning to discuss product. It would take days to get what we wanted, particularly since this wasn’t the only place that would be producing.

  To my side was Miya’s equipment, as well as my own. I had a pretty good idea of what I needed to do there and what I was fighting. Our true opponent was Lyria, who the two of us needed to defeat in direct combat. That meant armor capable of withstanding her and weapons capable of slaying her.

  But everybody else? That was where I definitely needed Malenko’s guidance. I had been digesting Ilsa’s and Miya’s words and knew what I truly wanted my most trusted subordinates to do.

  Dragon-hunting. Not Lyria, but the other four or five dragons she brought with her. Fierce monsters that I had previously thought only I could battle but in truth needed help with. If I constrained my goal to defeating Lyria, then I would never be able to be the leader that Yasno and Hish needed, simply because the other dragons would slay so many of their kin before we chased them away. I needed to empower them with tools that brought their abilities to the fore.

  “As you said earlier. Weapons to slay dragons. But not for me. I have three companies that I think can manage the task,” I said, glancing at my other side. A hammer and an axe-like sword were leaning over there, as well as some heavy armor.

  Malenko chuckled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. I didn’t bring these folks down here to bash out your codpiece.”

  The hammer drew the dwarf’s attention first, and he hefted it with a grunt. I could see the sweat on his bare chest now, which was a sign that the furnaces were really roaring. That meant it was time to strip down myself.

  “I see you haven’t forgotten everything over the decades,” he said with a grunt of approval when he saw me taking off my shirt. “This looks like a dwarven hammer. The oni use this? And the armor? Hah, they’d fit in well with us. I’d like to say it’s the sullen one, but that’s just personal bias. Rune-knights are always serious types.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and nodded to confirm his suspicion. “Rune-knights?”

  “The greatest of all dwarven warriors. The entire reason master rune-crafters exist. Dwarves can’t use magic like you can, leaping over walls and such, but give a hundred of us the greatest equipment in the world and they can make Lyria wish that she was battling you,” Malenko said, a vicious grin on his face. “I’ll check with that Yasno how he fights, but I can do up the tests for the armor and weapons myself, then have the boys crank them out with me. Fifty, right? That’s the typical size of Imperial units. Or are the oni different?”

  “No, they use fifty as well. I think they took the number from me at some point.” At least I guessed as much. Perhaps it was my ego. “Next is the sword. Light armor, all speed and chaos.”

  Malenko groaned. “A spellblade without the spells.” He drummed his fat fingers against his chest. “I’ll leave it to you for a test blade, as you know better than me what can cut through a dragon’s hide. For the armor, flame wards and magic barriers. Tell the maniac not to get hit by the claws. What next?”

  “Ballista bolts. Mage-supported.”

  “Pshaw. Easy.” Malenko waved me off with a roll of his eyes. “We made ones that could punch through those kinetic barriers the foxes use. Dragon scales? Nothing. We’ll whip up a test batch here, plus the ballista, then have the main foundry mass-produce them. Gotta get them on the walls in time, right?”

  He knew this well. Then again, he had been supplying the Empire for decades. That was the power of experience. Men and women like Malenko weren’t worth their weight in gold; they generated it by the second if you knew how to use them. If Otwin had understood that, then he coul
d have easily crushed us. The principles of those dwarven rune-knights could easily have given an edge to those Aghram knights that Victoria led, for one, or the nightwalkers we had fought. Hish would have struggled against properly trained and equipped opponents. So many battles could have changed the course of the assault.

  “I’m guessing that’s all your elites?” the dwarf asked. “How about the regulars? We’ve got a lot of spare capacity, which I’m currently using to crank out heavy armor. Rune-crafting is limited to just here, because you mages seem to think that’s a dead art even though you’ve been a mythical hero for longer than most of them have been alive, but we have enchanters by the tower.”

  I snorted. Rune-crafting had been dead to humanity even when it hadn’t been. If enchanting was looked down upon by the upper echelons of mage towers and summoning was esoteric save for familiars, then from a social perspective, rune-crafting was the equivalent of banging rocks together in a cave. Every ounce of respect I received for it from the dwarfs was amplified tenfold in the opposite direction from the mage towers. Only patronage had kept me from being eaten alive in those dens of insanity.

  Dismissing idle thoughts of days long past, I instead focused on what I needed right now. “Whatever you can produce for us in under a week, Mal. The oni are an absolute wrecking ball of destruction, capable of cutting through enchanted steel plate like it is paper, but they always lacked the mass-production ability to push their power to the limits. Behind them, I have veterans with the formations, tactics, and raw skill to match that wrecking ball, but they have always had the equipment in quantity. I need an edge. Everybody is equally great, sure. But with just a week, I’m thinking we need to focus on what gives us the most benefit now,” I said with a frown. This was simple strategy, and it applied the same logic you might use as a craftsman—strengthen the part that could take the most strengthening now and come back to the rest later.