Leon was no stranger to horrific bodily damage, done both to him and to others.  He’d burned men alive, shattered them with lightning, cut them apart with his sword, and shot them full of arrows.  He’d had his arm burned so thoroughly that it had to be amputated, he’d had his bones broken more times than he could count; he’d been stabbed, cut, and ravaged even more times than that.

But seeing Hector’s corpse in pieces was another thing entirely.  The Jaguar’s lightning was a violent thing, rendering all the flesh it touched burned black.  Since he’d cut Hector into nearly a dozen pieces, that was a lot of flesh.

Hector had been an enemy, so Leon didn’t rue his death.  That being said, now that he was back in Stormhollow, he couldn’t help but feel a little somber.  Hector had been a powerful voice within the Tiger Tribe and the bureaucracy that Iron-Striker had built.  And now he was dead, with his twin brother standing over his corpse, a look of barely-repressed anguish on his face.  Half the reason Leon remained silent was that Solomon looked like he was devoting all his effort just to keep from bursting into tears.

Nearly a week had passed since the raid to deal with Hector, and it had taken that long for Solomon to return to Stormhollow.  Upon his arrival, Leon greeted the Tiger’s Hegemon and brought him to his temporary palace where Hector’s body was being stored.  The Jaguar had remained with Leon in the palace, standing guard over the door to the freezer where the body had been left, ensuring that nothing more happened to it.

But still, that didn’t make it much easier for anyone.  Solomon hadn’t spoken a word since walking in, and neither had the Jaguar.  They simply stood above what remained of Hector’s body, staring down at the dead man.

Eventually, Leon left, deciding to leave the two to their grief.  For all that Hector was a traitor—and would be remembered as one—he was still the Jaguar’s old friend and Solomon’s twin brother.  Leon knew that kind of loss well.

Not that he would’ve done anything differently.  Hector would never have surrendered, and dealing with him violently was essentially his only option.  His followers, however…  Those that were captured he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.  There were compelling arguments made on both sides for keeping them imprisoned, executing the lot of them, or showing clemency and pardoning their mistakes.  He supposed a mix of all three would be most appropriate, but for the time being, he wasn’t dealing with them just yet as another bit of fallout from the battle occupied his time instead.

The Spiders had finally made their decision: they would submit to Leon.  At this point, he had all the other Tribes united behind him; the Spiders, if they wanted to rebel, would’ve been alone in their rebellion.  There were few choices remaining for them but to submit to him, so instead of trying to fight, they did just that.  Their delegation would arrive within the day, comprised of all their elders and most of their Chiefs, all ready and willing to bow down to him and acknowledge him as their King.

Once that happened, he would truly be the King of the Ten Tribes.  His position would finally be consolidated, and he could throw himself into the hard work of building the Kingdom he’d need going forward.  After all, he didn’t intend to build a Kingdom where he held only nominal Kingship.

To aid in that endeavor, he’d finally met with the last of Iron-Striker’s bureaucrats and finished his evaluation of the bureaucracy the man had built.  It was thorough, but too small for its purpose.  Iron-Striker knew this and was returning to the city soon to aid him in its expansion.

And he certainly wanted it to expand.  Dealing with bureaucrats wasn’t something he was ever fond of doing, but it was significantly more palatable than having to cajole and extort what he wanted from unwilling Tribal subjects.  What he was more conflicted about was just how to expand.

He had taken time to reflect on the defection of the three bloodline-less Jaguars, as well as the attempted defections of the other elders before the meeting of the Elder Council.  His support among the leadership of the Ten Tribes remained high, and whenever he appeared in public it appeared that his public support was high, as well, regardless of bloodlines.  The news reports he received indicated that the entire island was celebrating his ascent as their King.

The entire island, regardless of bloodlines.

If he wanted to expand the bureaucracy, he’d need to include those without bloodlines.  If he wanted to retain the support of the Tribes, he felt that he’d probably have to offer them concessions, and they’d likely use those concessions to get more of their trusted people into positions of power.  Those people would likely have awakened bloodlines.

To build a lasting Kingdom, he’d need to build a political system that could balance the needs and desires of both of these ‘factions’, those with bloodlines and those without.  He couldn’t focus only on the bloodline-dominated leadership of the Ten Tribes without risking losing the support of those without bloodlines.  The Ten Tribes in total had a population numbering in the billions, but their population of men and women with awakened bloodlines was only in the low millions.  Despite this, the power of the Ten Tribes, no matter which metric he cared to use, was concentrated in the latter group.

‘Just typical King horseshit,’ Leon cynically thought to himself every time he pondered the balancing act he would have to perform.

At the very least, enshrining in law that those without bloodlines were legally equal to those with bloodlines would have to be a priority, and ensuring that the former could fill any bureaucratic or political position in Leon’s Kingdom if their skills were suitable to the task would go a long way to aiding him in keeping the peace.

The Ten Tribes themselves would still undoubtedly be dominated by those with bloodlines, and he wasn’t intending on changing that.  Allowing the Ten Tribes their autonomy would go a long way to ensuring that he kept their support.

He sighed as he reached a private balcony looking out over Lake Ontarii.  It was a good thing that he now had the time for such musings.  Actually putting it all together was going to be boring as all the hells, however, and that was going to be his immediate future…

---

Standing on the dais of Elder Hall, Leon couldn’t help but smile as he surveyed those before him.  Two groups of people had taken a knee before him and bowed their heads.

The Bear Tribe was the group to Leon’s right, led by Iron-Striker and the rest of the elders behind him, including the Beast Lord.  Few of them looked particularly happy, but Leon was gratified to see that just as few looked terribly unhappy, with the Beast Lord being just about the only Bear he could see looking like Iron-Striker was pulling his teeth just to keep him on his knee.

The group to Leon’s left were the Ji Spiders, led by one of their two ninth-tier mages.  Like the Bears, they were here to pay him their obeisance and bring any and all unpleasantness to an end.

“By the winged grace,” Iron-Striker intoned, leading his Tribe in speaking their oaths of fealty, “I swear myself to Leon Raime.  I will always be true to him, his Clan, and his heirs.  The trust placed in me shall never be broken, upon pain of dishonor and death.  From this day until my last, I shall be a loyal vassal of Leon Raime and the Thunderbird Clan.”

The Bears and the Spiders repeated his words, and it was Leon’s turn.

“By the winged grace,” Leon began, “I accept your oaths of fealty.  Just as you will be loyal to me, I will be loyal to you.  You and your Tribes now fall under my protection, and should you ever be threatened or attacked, I will protect you in every way you need.”

And with that, it was over.  He’d accepted their fealty, nothing more needed to be said—at this ceremony, anyway.  They were now his vassals, his subordinates.  They were now his servants, though he had no intention of treating them as such.

As the echoes of their exchange died in the cavernous hall, the other eight watching Tribes began stomping and shouting in celebration.  For the first time in eighty-thousand years, the Ten Tribes were united—truly united.

---

“I wish I could’ve been there,” Iron-Striker said as he walked with Leon and Solomon through the gardens of Leon’s temporary palace.  “I was the one who first brought Hector in on my reforms; I feel like I could’ve gotten him to stand down.”

“He never would’ve,” Solomon somberly stated.  “Once he set his mind to something, he saw it through to the end.  Always.”

“The Jaguar has said much the same in the weeks since,” Leon agreed.  “As it is, I think we’ve saved as many as we realistically could’ve.  Of the three thousand Hector absconded with, less than five hundred were killed, and the rest either surrendered, deserted, or were captured alive.”

Iron-Striker sighed.  “What will you do with those you’ve captured, if I might ask?”

“Freedom for those who surrendered willingly,” Leon said.  “In that freedom, if they choose to continue serving in the central army, they are free to do so.  Those who were captured will serve ten years in the Titanstone quarries.  The remaining captured officers will be executed for treason.”

Solomon said, “You show far more mercy than most of those traitors deserve.”

“Mercy can win loyalty,” Leon argued.  “I’d rather not kill more than a thousand good fighters when there’s still a war on, even if there are no active hostilities.  Those most responsible for the desertion from the army following my accession are being punished.  Those who simply followed their leaders are being let go; it’s not like they’ve done anything other than turn against me.  If they raided towns, killing, raping, and burning, then my sentence would be harsher.”

“Let us hope your mercy does not encourage future revolts,” Solomon darkly stated.

“I agree with our King on this matter,” Iron-Striker said.  “Now is the time for healing old wounds among our people.  Now is the time for unity, not blood.  For forgiveness, not vengeance.  If we can not forgive these men and women, then we can never come together as one people.”

“Many of us don’t want to come together as one people,” Solomon shot back, his tone growing a little harsher.  “Many of us are satisfied with being distinct vassals to the Thunderbird Clan.”

“Unity will be our greatest asset going forward—” Iron-Striker began to argue before Leon cut him off.

“I will never expect the Tribes to abandon their Tribal identities,” Leon said.  “But all who wish to serve me more directly are more than welcome.”

After a moment of silence, Iron-Striker asked, “Speaking of… Leon, how did you find the troops during your operation?”

Leon took a moment to think over his question, searching for the right words to use.  In truth, he hadn’t seen them in action too much since the Tempest Knights acted as his army’s vanguard and did most of the fighting to take Hector’s castle.  However, he was able to observe other aspects of the central army’s doctrine during the short campaign.

“I was pleasantly surprised by them,” Leon said.  “While mostly being Bison and Tigers, they were still made up of members of all Ten Tribes.  And they worked quite well with each other.  They were motivated and professional, with good-quality equipment and competent officers.  On the one hand, I wish I could’ve seen them in action, but on the other, I don’t wish for our circumstances to demand such action.”

Iron-Striker smiled as Leon described the army he’d built.

“I feel,” Leon continued, “if such standards are uniform across the entire army, that it ought to be expanded, if possible.”

Solomon hummed and said, “A larger army is not necessarily a better army.  A smaller, more professional force is often better.  An army that doesn’t spend all of its money on the payroll will have more fat in the budget for equipment and training.”

“That’s why I said, ‘if possible’,” Leon replied with a smile.  “As it is, with the government you’ve put into practice,” he nodded to Iron-Striker, “one hundred thousand soldiers is about all that we can reasonably sustain at the level they’re at.  Even running some decent snap exercises so that I can get a better feel for their capabilities will require more funding than they have.  The problem, thusly, is not so much with the army as it is with the administration behind the entire apparatus.”

“We need to build a true government…” Iron-Striker wistfully stated.

“One that encompasses more than just the land around Stormhollow and the Common Lands in the east,” Leon agreed.  He paused a moment and glanced at Solomon, gauging his reaction.  To his mild relief, Solomon wasn’t letting any of his emotions show on his face, but Leon wondered if that would change with what he had to say next.  “We need to set up an effective Treasury and tax administration.  We can’t survive only by taxing those in Stormhollow and the city’s countryside.  The Tribes will have to contribute, as well.”

“By how much?” Solomon asked.

“We’re still working that out,” Leon quickly answered.  “We can’t say how much must be levied until we finish evaluating our needs.”

“And that’s a process that takes time,” Iron-Striker added.  “I have estimates for what I was trying to build, and taxes that would’ve been expected of the Tribes would’ve been relatively small.”

“Is this before or after you would’ve dissolved the Tribal leadership?” Solomon wondered, his tone neutral and giving away nothing about what he thought of that plan.

Iron-Striker grunted dismissively.  “Everyone’s always saying that’s something I would’ve done.”

“Words like ‘unity’ don’t mesh well with the Tribes remaining distinct,” Solomon said.

“I will not argue this point,” Iron-Striker said.  “It’s irrelevant now.  What matters is building the system that our King demands.”

“That’s something to bring before the Elder Council,” Solomon replied.

“And it will be,” Leon said.  “But for now, what are your thoughts?”

Solomon was quiet for a long moment.  “This was expected,” he finally stated.  “The Tigers are ready to do their part for their King.”

Leon clapped the man on the shoulder.  “And it will always be remembered,” he said.

He just hoped the rest of the Tribes would be as willing to give him what he needed to build a proper Kingdom.

---

“… And look at you,” Leon said as he moved down the line, “you look ready to storm the beaches of Argos!”

“Of course, Your Majesty!” the soldier responded with zeal and pride.  “Anything for my King!”

“Very good, very good,” Leon said as he held out his arm and clasped the man’s wrist.  “Your loyalty does you and your entire Tribe credit.”

The soldier stood up a little straighter and had to visibly fight to keep a serious stoic expression, despite a wide smile attempting to force its way out.

Leon kept moving down the line, inspecting soldier after soldier.  He may not have the ability to do much impromptu training for the central army, he could at least observe what training exercises they did perform.  He could also, as he was doing now, bring them out and give them a personal inspection.  He wouldn’t be able to get much of an idea of their tactics and strategies doing so, but it allowed him to look his soldiers in the eye and gauge their thoughts about him.  He'd have a better idea of how they felt about fighting for him, of their morale and sense of duty, which he thought were even more important to the army’s fighting ability than tactics or equipment.

After all, if a man refused to fight, then his weapon and training were useless.

It had been a month since Hector’s defeat, and while he’d been generally impressed by the way the small unit under Tillan’s daughter had conducted itself, he’d decided to follow Iron-Striker's advice and give many more units personal inspections.

So far, he found them surprisingly motivated; so much so that there was a part of him that kept wondering when the other shoe would fall.  The soldiers seemed genuinely excited to have him as their King—or at least, to have a Thunderbird King back in charge.  He identified little pandering or deceit in the soldiers who expressed their joy and loyalty to him, and the cynical part of him kept trying to guess the reason why.  He wondered if they were simply saying this to his face and were keeping their true thoughts to themselves…

To his further surprise, while most of the central army was from the Tiger Tribe, it seemed that most of the rank-and-file soldiers were without awakened blood.  He supposed that made sense—as supportive as Solomon had been of Iron-Striker thanks to Hector, he probably would’ve kept most of his Tribesmen with awakened blood for his Tribal army.

With that information now swirling around in his head, Leon further wondered if the loyalty of the central army was because of or despite that fact.  Those without bloodlines could resent him for representing everything they didn’t have, or they might love him for representing a potential path of advancement they might be otherwise denied in their home Tribes.

He supposed he’d have to wait and see, but at the very least, he was greatly encouraged by the inspections he conducted.  He found the soldiers motivated and respectful.  If he could extrapolate what he’d seen of the central army so far, then he could count on them in the future.

And he certainly thought that he’d be needing them in the near future.  The force that the Sunlit Emperor had assembled to try and exploit the absence of the Bison Tribe was still lingering around the Sword, and it looked like he might try launching an attack on the island again soon, despite the return of the Bison elders…

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