Author's Note: Muahahahahahahahaha!

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-Written In Bold

Chapter Twenty-One

As uneasy as the King's… guests made him, there reason for being there outweighed the uncertainties of his often busy and calculation-ailed mind. After all, they were the ones that offered him and his kingdom a once in a lifetime opportunity to redeem the glory of the Hyrulean Crown for himself, his son, and the countless generations to follow in their name… a little uneasiness could be tucked aside easily enough, just as long as he kept his eyes on the end goal and its endless rewards.

Rewards… he mused over the thought with a greedy grin.

Yes, rewards… More than enough rewards to pay his debts in full, twice over even ―although he had no such intention― he had indeed made a pact with his guests, and in that pact he personally ensured that every dotted line was signed as agreed upon, every loophole closed, and every decision final. What was a little land and a mountain of rupees to him once he stood over the Eastern World as the highest authority; the King and Emperor of all Hyrule? The answer was nothing. A plot of land and lumpsum of money meant nothing to him now that he could practically taste victory upon his swollen tongue.

The King took in a deep breath of cold late-autumn air and exhaled relievedly.

Dimitri stood by his side, uncharacteristically quiet, but seeing the King loosen himself as they peered down that the horde of autonomous weaponry that littered the mud-strewn field from their cliff-side perch seemed to ease what concerns bothered his mind as well. That is at least until the Commander, as he now insisted on calling himself, joined them in their wide-eyed gander, causing both their shoulder muscles tighten.

"They will be ready to march at dawn," the steely Commander said in his usual unattached, unemotional voice ―a tone that strangely made the King think he was more akin to the machines he commanded than that of a normal man.

"Excellent," the King replied as he peered from the furthest corner to the nearest, estimating the Guardians' numbers… Ten thousand Striders, a century of Skywatchers, and a legion of Scouts, the Commander had said, but it felt like far more than that… the King couldn't even imagine how the Commander had gotten them all there so quickly, and so terrifyingly silently. Then again, that was of little consequence, as a little over fifteen-thousand machines stood at their command, ready to obey without hesitation; ready to burn, kill, and conquer at his whim. And to think, their might would only increase once Naboris and Medoh arrived with their Divine Beasts in tow… that is, once they stopped their belly-ached complaining.

He scoffed at the thought… They dared to question him? Their disloyalty had offended him, but it was a trespass he was willing to forgive, just as long as they did as their king commanded.

"We march for Necluda in the morning then?" Dimitri asked, a smug grin on teasing the corners of his lips.

"Naboris and Medoh have till dawn to answer my ultimatum. Should they choose to ignore our call, we will double back as soon as the task is done and see to it that they are… dealt with."

"I could see two fine Hylian Generals taking their places, could you not, father?" Dimitri said more than asked, as his smug grin grew smugger.

"I could," he answered. "But we will not think of that for now." The King, feeling satisfied with what he had seen, turned to face the Commander, and extended his hand to offer an unexpectedly generous shake of thanks. However, the Commander made no indication of interest with shaking the King's hand, as he merely continued to gaze out onto the field of Guardians, his body moving no more in the wind than a mountain under the beating sun. Of everything about him, only his blood red cloak fluttered in the breeze, everything else remained as still and as quiet as the grave as did the strange covering that shielded his face hid whatever expression or emotion lay underneath.

"It is customary to shake hands when an agreement has been met, Commander," the King said pointedly, still holding his hand outstretched. "Especially with a king," he added, drippings of indignation soaking his tone. For a moment the Commander seemed to ignore the King, but just as the tension felt thick enough to cut through like a rope, he turned a faceless mask and stared… or at least, the King thought he was staring… it was hard to tell but could feel penetrating eyes gazing at him beneath that mask.

His hand remained out stretched for a moment longer, until at last it was obvious the Commander had no intention of sealing their dealings with a proper shake. Normally, such an offense would not go answered, but neither the King nor his son were eager to ruffle the Guardian Commander's feathers, so to speak, and withdrew his hand awkwardly. Not many men made his blood curl like that and got away with it.

"There is another matter we must speak of," the Commander continued as if their stare-down had never happened.

"And that is?" the King asked coldly.

"Fifteen-thousands machines require a vast resource of fuel," the Commander said. "A fuel source that we are in short supply of."

"Well how in the world did you get them across the sea on ship and into Hyrule if you didn't have adequate fuel!?" the King demanded, and irritated grimace marking Dimitri's face as well. "Why are you just now mentioning this!?"

"We have our reasons," the Commander replied far to calmly. The King thought it odd however… the Commander said, 'we' as if to indicate more individuals than himself being present… Normally a second man accompanied the Commander, who was equally somber and silent, and wore identical clothing, including the faceless mask and red cloak. However, it was only him now… the King wondered where his companion had gone off to. They had always come in a pair before.

Strange, but not strange enough to mention it.

"Well, spit it out then," Dimitri demanded with a scoff. Wordlessly, the Commander's eyes passed to him, at least it felt as if they did and the weight of them burdened Dimitri's glowering expression until he too fell silent and tucked tail; a silent admission of defeat on the battlefield on intimidations and trepidations. The King and his son shared an uneasy glance to one another but said no more.

"The Sheikah Blue Flame is hard to come by," the Commander continued, ignoring Dimitri's demand. "Even we struggled to supply enough to feed an army of fifteen-thousand."

"Do we have enough fuel to follow through with the invasion?" the King asked in a much more respectful ―or more fearful― tone.

"To begin, yes," the Commander answered as he looked back out onto the Guardian army below. "But you will fall short of conquering Necluda without means of refueling." The King opened his mouth to ask another pointed question but before he did the Commander handed him a small rectangular device of Sheikah design… a Sheikah Slate, no less. The King took it and held it in his hands with grinning amusement. To think that he spent so much effort trying to pry an accursed Sheikah Slate from the hands of that damned steel-wielding half-breed, and yet now he held one in his fingertips and felt no need of the simple tool any longer. Now that he had an army, what use was the Slate?

They had come far indeed.

Returning to the Slate, the King examined its contents. Upon its dark blue screen there was a map, or at least as far as he could tell, as he had never seen a map so detailed and three-dimensional. He instantly recognized the shape of tall towers and high walls displayed on the chart; Hyrule Castle. He continued to gaze at the map unsure of how it was supposed to help them but before he raised a critical brow to the Commander, the colors of the castle began to fade and where there had once been grey stone and green trees there were hollow shapes outlined by rich blue lines, almost as if he now looked upon a blue print of the city.

The ground beneath vanished too, and below the surface there lay a great heaping mass of roiling yellow and red not even a quarter mile beneath the ground, and reached as far as Mount Hyrule, which was just west of Necluda Valley, serving as the only natural mountainous barrier between their nations. The King looked at the Commander with curious and questioning eyes…

"That," he said, pointing to the mass below the surface, "is the largest source of naturally occurring Sheikah Blue Flame north of Necluda itself. You, King Gustaf have been sitting on a wealth of fuel that would catch the eye of even the richest Sheikah Harvesters."

"Incredible," the King and his son muttered breathlessly in unison, both being far to shocked to say anything else. Was it true? Had they been within arm's reach of such wealth all along!? The King cursed the heavens for keeping such gifts from him and his people for so long.

"If you wish to conquer and rule this land absolutely, you will need to tap into that well of Blue Flame."

"You're a fool if you think I won't take advantage of this glorious happenstance," the King half-laughed half-chided. "Commander, I give you full permission to begin drilling immediately! I don't care if we have to tear down the Temple of Time just to get the best angle, I want that fuel source under Hyrule's thumb as quickly as possible."

"It will be done," the Commander answered, although his tone denoted that he was not doing it because the King had given him explicit permission to do so. Again, such tongue would have been met with harsh punishment were the King to have his way, but the news that the Commander had delivered to them was far to grand indeed to be overlooked.

"So that takes care of our problems?" Dimitri asked, grinning like a greedy fool.

"For now," the Commander answered evenly, not sparing the Prince a moment of his gaze. "But there is one last thing we must discuss. It is in the terms of our agreement."

"What of our agreement?" the King asked with a quickly forming glare. "What is done is done, and what is signed is signed. Do not think that you can just back out now!"

"Back out?" the Commander mocked in a rare moment of emotion. "No, we will not back out. We just have new terms that are in need of inclusion." The King sighed heavily and shoved the Sheikah Slate back into the Commander's hands before widening his stance, crossing his arms and glared unshakingly.

"What are these 'terms' that need inclusion, hm? Let us hear them."

"It regards the invasion of Necluda," the Commander said evenly. "You seek to claim it as your own, perhaps even name it Hyrule's new capitol, no?"

"Claim it, yes, but Hyrule Castle will forever remain our capitol and symbol of pride. Necluda will just be a… well… a trophy, shall we say?"

"A trophy…" the Commander repeated as if contemplating the words himself. "A trophy it will not be. Not unless you desire to call heaping piles of ash and raging fire a trophy."

"What do you mean!?" the King demanded.

"As part of our continued alliance, King Gustaf," the Commander began in a firm almost hostile tone. "We will see to it that every soul, every building, and every home is burned and collapsed until nothing remains but the craters of where the Sheikah's jewel city once stood. Necluda, will be destroyed absolutely."

"I did not agree to this!" the King shouted, his face growing red hot from anger. "Necluda is mine, and once I have enslaved those backwater mongrels called the Sheikah, I will force them to build a monument in the heart of the city in my honor. Necluda you will not take from me."

"Need we remind you of who brought this army to your feet?" the Commander said, gesturing to the Guardians below. "Need I remind you of who has offered your people a way out of poverty and filth? If you a truly a wise man, King Gustaf, you will let this be and cleanse this world of the City of Necluda."

"I will hear nothing of the sort!" the King retorted, throwing his hands into the air. "Necluda is mine I tell you, MINE! I will not amend the contract as WE agreed upon. Now, unless there is any other outlandish demands on the forefront of your mind, we will be leaving, Commander." Silence followed, and with a triumphant but angered huff, the King pulled up his belt and began to march back to his camp. Dimitri lingered a while longer, daring to look at the cold Commander with searching and wondering eyes…

Destroy Necluda, the Prince thought to himself haughtily. He thought that there would be nothing more fitting, no, more glorious than decimating that accursed city till the very earth was scared and scorched. His father was weak for not seeing the truth in the Commander's words… Necluda needed to burn… it needed to be cleansed of filth. A chill ran up his spine when the Commander's eyes locked with his and remained there with unsettling attunement… as if he knew his thoughts…

Somehow, he knew.