A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Peace…" Oliver said carefully. Even as a concept, he could hardly imagine it. For years and years, he'd been fighting for something or other. Freedom, survival, stability… Peace? Did it even really exist?

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"Do you believe yourself to be situated properly to make that happen?" Hod asked. "Have you spoken to the fragment within you, and studied its growth? You say you have been in a zone of progress lately – how long will it last? Can you tell me those things, or has that progress that you've made in the past merely been a fluke."

Oliver thought, and he thought hard. At the moment, the zone that he existed in was almost frightening. Because he'd passed through the Third Boundary so early, there had been much work that he needed to do in order to stabilize himself. That was the only real issue that he had, at the moment – the problem of stability – and even that seemed to be on the mend.

What if that was solved entirely? What could he become? Would he be able to evolve quickly enough to confront what was in front of him? What about what he'd achieved with the bandits – the new power that Claudia offered, and then the new power that Ingolsol had offered him too. Could he make use of those things?

"I might be…" Oliver said carefully. "Given the pattern of progression in the past, I might be."

"Still?" Skullic said, his face horrified. "A man's progress is meant to slow… I anticipated that it would only be in the realm of Command that you could see improvements."

"Ah, but Claudia still dances with him, as a favoured son," Hod said, cheerfully, "just as she tormented his father. There are two straws that our young Tiger can grasp. The realm of Command, and the realm of Progress he has still left untapped. Do you begin to see a route to victory, General Skullic?"

The General shook his head, and glanced up towards the cloudy sky. "What a troublesome subordinate I've found myself saddled with…"

Only after his meeting with Skullic and Hod did the situation finally begin to hit home for Oliver. He was insufficient. That very thought sent shivers down his spine. It was a terrifying feeling. It brought back reminders of who he'd once been, so eternally inefficient, that he'd hardly even been able to defend himself, much less that which was important to him.

A gambit that they might have seen coming, but one of the type that was bound to happen sooner or later, or so Hod said. By the Minister's predictions, it was the last feasible push the High King could make before he would be forced to properly withdraw for a time, and build for something else.

The Minister had even gone as far as to make a grand promise. "If you are able to survive this, you might even be afforded enough time to come of age before he is able to strike at you again."

It seemed a grand claim, but when Skullic had pushed him on it, the claim seemed to be based on solid enough facts. He reasoned that there wouldn't be time enough for the High King to prepare anything of similar magnitude for a good couple of months – and by then, Oliver would have achieved a strength of armed men that such attacks would no longer work on him.

"Then, will he not merely throw more men into the fray? A thousand? More Generals?" Skullic said, but in response, Hod had merely shook his head.

"Such things would take far too many resources to prepare, and by then, eyebrows amongst the nobility will begin to get raised. Oliver still has not come of age, after all. This battle will be the point beyond which the High King's assailant of Oliver Patrick exceeds the point of diminishing returns," Hod had said.

"With such a point in mind, we'd be more willing to put resources on it…" Skullic said slowly, stroking his chin. "I'm of the same opinion as the Minister – this has to be the last trick that he can pull for a good while, and if you get the time, you'll have a stronger base under you with men of your own."

"Indeed," Hod said, nodding. "I was quite sure you would understand, General. It seems I was right to trust in you."

"But the point still remains, for this to matter at all, the battle needs to be won," Skullic said. "Can we trust in the likes of victory?"

"We're going to have to," Hod said tonelessly.

…

…

By now, they were approaching the end of the week. Two more days, and Oliver would be on horseback, heading towards the scene of his next battle. He'd already been given its location, and he had informed everyone that mattered of where he would be heading.

Even with such things taken care of, there were matters that Oliver had continued to neglect until the very last moment, and now he was paying for that negligence. Out of nowhere, a spotlessly chosen selection of gifts had been delivered to the door of his room. The sheer weight of them in their wrappings, as well as the sound of clinking metal, made it obvious what they were.

It was still rather early in the morning, and Oliver had only just tended to breakfast. Only Verdant could see the thoroughly exasperated look that sat on Oliver's face then, whilst Verdant had a self-satisfied look of his own.

"So this is why you kept encouraging me to wait," Oliver said, sighing. Even he – after being as reluctant to spend coin as he was – had begun to worry that he might have been leaving matters too late, when already there were so few days between him and his mission.

Verdant, however, had continued to strongly suggest that it was taken care of, and if Oliver would be patient a while longer, there was a certain smith that would give him a good deal on some high-quality items.

"Apologies," Verdant said, bowing his head slightly, but clearly he didn't wish to apologize in the least.