The grand throne room of the Eternal Empire was abuzz with a unique blend of anticipation and preparation. Towering columns of obsidian stretched upwards, culminating in intricate patterns of phoenixes and flames. The subtle glow from magic-infused lanterns cast eerie shadows, dancing in tandem with the somber atmosphere.
At the pinnacle of the room sat Emperor Lucius on his majestic, intricately carved dark throne. The very essence of power and authority, his cold eyes skimmed over those assembled before him. Behind him stood Octavia, her face a mask, but her mind a whirlwind of emotion and strategy. Every so often, a hint of rebellion sparkled in her eyes, undetected by those around her, but not entirely missed by Lucius.
Arranged meticulously before the emperor, nine generals stood in formation, awaiting their orders. Their uniforms alone spoke of their towering statuses within the military ranks of the empire. Adorned in deep black with red and silver highlights, the attire was the epitome of grandeur and military prestige. The white chest plates, bearing the red phoenix emblem, gleamed under the lantern light. Silver collars, indicative of their rank, adorned their necks. Their stances exuded a mixture of respect, fear, and ambition as they stood awaiting the commands of their ruler.
Minister Crone, standing slightly apart, cleared his throat, breaking the palpable silence. "Your Supreme Excellency," he began with reverence, "The era of naval warfare is upon us. The blueprints of the past have given birth to the warships of the present. Our dockyards are working tirelessly, and the first of our fleet is ready to set sail."
Generals shifted uneasily, sensing the weight of the revelation. Octavia's heart sank but remained hopeful, praying that this might be the empire's eventual undoing.
Minister Crone beckoned to a figure at the back. A man, dressed distinctly differently from the generals, stepped forward. His uniform, deep black contrasted with a bold red phoenix emblem, screamed of authority. "May I present Admiral Rion, the chosen head of our nascent navy?"
Admiral Rion bowed, his tone full of pride, "Your Majesty, the Emperor , I swear by the phoenix that adorns my chest that our fleet will herald a new era of dominance. The main continent will bow to our might."
Lucius, without any hint of emotion, asked, "And the shores? What word of them?"
Minister Crone unveiled a detailed map. "Aquileia," he said pointing, "A gem on the coast. But not without its defenses. Our spies report the kingdom has three key figures: their king, a grandmaster knight, and a magical minister. All with the strength of Mage, nothing our Impierial might can't crush. "
A smirk, fleeting but noticeable, crossed Lucius's face. "Once Aquileia falls?"
Crone responded promptly, "Teleportation arrays for swift reinforcements. Our might of a eight hundred thousand can then march forward. Eighty divisions, led by our generals, can be deployed."
Lucius nodded slowly. "Very well. Let the preparations commence. Aquileia will be the first jewel in our crown."
As the generals scattered, carrying out their assigned tasks, Lucius motioned for Octavia to follow. He cut through the space and took Octavia to the city of Amiens, the city where most of the dockyards were built. The streets of Amiens awaited them. The city had transformed into a buzzing metropolis under the Empire's reign. Vendors peddled a plethora of goods, from exotic foods to intricate jewelry, and from potent magical potions to the latest magical technologies like rune imprinted knowledge. Soldiers marched in formation, the red crystals in their armor gleaming, and faces covered.
The juxtaposition of Octavia and Lucius walking side by side was striking. Her contempt barely hidden, she remarked, "Quite the paradise you've built on the ruins of others."
Lucius shot her a sardonic smile, "Your sarcasm is noted and amusing. Though, it's less ruins and more... an upgrade."