Chapter 1611: The Two-Horned Marshal - 2
On the very same day of the grand ceremony, three planetary kingdoms —without pressure, without coercion— stepped forward and voluntarily merged into the Grave Empire. Their decision sent ripples across the sector, for rarely did entire realms bow so willingly.
And within the span of just a single year of negotiations, two minor planetary empires followed as well: one ruling over three worlds, the other controlling five.
This alone stood as undeniable proof of the dreadful reputation of the Black Wasps. With nothing more than a single celebration, Aro had managed to bring eleven planets under his banner— Almost half of his holdings at that time!! It was a feat no one had expected, yet it carved his name deeper into the hearts of allies and enemies alike.
Within only five years after the ceremony, several great powers began to connect the scattered dots—or to put it more accurately, whispers and rumors began threading their way among the courts. Rumors that the allegiance of the Wasps was no coincidence at all. They remembered that the Grave Empire itself had been born atop the ruins of the Ancestral Blood Empire by the Wasps’ sting.
When those rumors spread like wildfire—that both the Grave Empire and the Black Wasps had risen in unison, moved by the same terrifying master lurking unseen in the shadows—panic and fear pushed the factions back to the negotiation tables. And this time they came not cautiously, but desperately, offering terms and tribute. Out of this, Aro secured fifteen more planets!!
A decade passed. The storm born of that first ceremony gradually waned, its momentum dying down. By then Aro realized a truth: the empires and kingdoms that remained in negotiation had begun to stall. Some backed away, unwilling to risk more. Others raised conditions so harsh and impossible that they might as well have been insults.
And so, Aro revealed his fangs once more.
He unsheathed his wrath and turned it into steel. He launched relentless campaigns against every nearby power. Those who had dared to strike at him back when the Grave Empire was but an infant nation— he branded them enemies and crushed them in the name of vengeance. Those who had wasted his time at the tables— he punished them with fire and blood under the excuse of squandered years.
This time, his military campaign carried with it the true nightmare. Aro secured thirty Black Wasps from the three division commanders. Just thirty, yet they were more than enough to terrify entire civilizations.
To see a Black Wasp in the heart of a battlefield was to face horror itself, something visceral, undeniable, and raw. These creatures cared nothing for legions, starfleets, or defenses. They acted as if designed by some cruel hand to fulfill three purposes only: seek out the mightiest experts among the enemy and annihilate them, locate weapon arsenals or vaults of resources and strip them bare, or find the command hub itself and burn it to cinders.
The appearance of a single Black Wasp meant fate had already been sealed. One would fall. Either the champions of the enemy would retreat in shame, or armies would collapse backward to defend their treasuries, or the command center would vanish in fire. No matter what, something would break. A single Black Wasp was enough to undo months of planning and shatter the will of millions.
It was this terror, this embodiment of inevitable disaster, that forced countless powers back to the table, their pride burned away by dread.
Another twenty years passed. Piece by piece, through fear, negotiation, and relentless pursuit, Aro gathered sixty-two planets under the shadow of the Grave Empire!!
The number of minor empires and planetary kingdoms that joined was staggering. Each came with requests, demands, and ambitions—yet most asked only one thing: that their bloodlines be safeguarded from decline and obscurity. To accommodate them all, Aro forged something new, something unheard of—the Wings System.
"You are the Empire of the Ice Mountains? Very well," he declared. "Join us, and you shall be known as the Wing of the Ice Mountains. Your planets remain yours, your internal authority untouched. Only the word ’Empire’ will vanish, replaced with ’Wing’—a part of the Grave Empire, yet retaining your own pride."
The arrangement was met with enthusiasm. A grand ceremony was held once again. One after another, the newcomers swore loyalty to the Silent Emperor. Afterward, they mingled and familiarized themselves with Latania, Malek, and Wade.
Some, carried by both curiosity and arrogance, even requested friendly duels against them. The requests were accepted, and the duels took place.
Yet no matter the challenger—whether a seasoned World Cataclysm or a venerable Nexus State—none could so much as lay a finger on the three. Their superiority was absolute, and their presence became legend that very night.
From that evening forward, the Grave Empire’s military strength expanded at a pace beyond imagination. Every one of those new powers now burned with the desire to prove themselves. More importantly, they yearned to prove to the Black Wasps that they truly belonged at their side.
The result was astonishing. Armies that had once shed blood in war against the Grave Empire now stood proudly beneath its banners. Planetary emperors, mighty Nexus States—all of them stood tall at the heads of their armies, marching with unshakable resolve. The Grave Empire had ceased to be a rising power. It had become an unstoppable tide.
At this very point, Aro had a clear and undeniable advantage over Caesar — his influence had grown enough to draw several Nexus States to his side, a feat that tilted the balance of power in his favor and left no doubt about who was ahead.
But on that same night, the thirty imperial guards suddenly withdrew from the battlefields... Malik announced with a calm yet firm tone that they would return to perform their usual duties, as commanded by the Supreme Guardian, and that their interference would only come again if a truly catastrophic threat arose.
Even Aro, who was never quick to compromise, had to nod in agreement at this decision.
Using the wasps as a frightening deterrent was clever in the beginning, a tactic to unnerve enemies and keep them at bay, but turning them into a spearhead was reckless and dangerous. Such an approach would inevitably bring disaster — the moment those fundamental laws were wielded too openly, they would draw the piercing gaze of Millennial Empires.
And already, the prestigious Stellar Academies had begun contacting him, sending cautious but insistent messages, demanding cooperation to hunt down suspects tied to the incidents!!
...Reluctantly, Aro exchanged contact details with them, his expression unreadable, and in the end he permitted them to withdraw in peace.
Years slipped by after their departure. During that span, the Grave Empire spread its wings wider and wider, extending its shadow over countless territories, fighting fierce battles on several fronts at once.
The very backbone of the Grave army abandoned the smaller and scattered kingdoms, considering them unworthy prey and left them for the Wings to take care of, and instead set its ambitious gaze upon a Centennial Empire— a far more dangerous and glorious target.
...It was then that Flora approached Aro. She walked gracefully to his side, the sound of her steps soft against the stone, and placed her hand around his arm with an intimate and grounding touch. Her voice was gentle but edged with warning:
"Don’t let this rivalry with Caesar drag us into a spiral too deep to escape. You are already leading wars across many fronts, and now, with the first sparks of conflict against a Centennial Empire, we must advance carefully, step by step."
"Tsk~ The speed I desire will never be reached unless I have someone like Rinara at my side," Aro muttered, his eyes glinting with a sharp, determined light. "I need to find a solution to this... a real one."
"Pfft—so you still envy Caesar for her?" Flora chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "He has nothing else but her. Meanwhile, you’ve already subdued several Nexus States. If I’m not mistaken, the count has reached five by now?"
"You don’t understand..." Aro sighed and shook his head slowly. "Those five joined us because they preferred comfort over combat. They want an easy life of luxury, not a life of glory and blood. Even if I commanded all five of them to strike at a single Nexus State who clings fiercely to his principles, defending his homeland with all his might... they simply wouldn’t be able to kill him."
He tapped his fingers against the balcony rail, his gaze drifting outward. "Rinara, on the other hand, is driven by pure vengeance. She may only be a mid-tier Nexus State, but her fury gave her strength enough to fight against three Nexus States and escape their pursuit — not only that, she even dealt one of them a near-fatal wound! That makes her not just a fighter, but a genuine, lethal weapon."
His eyes dropped downward, and for a long while his mind drifted far away, lost in heavy thought. Finally, with resolve, he sent his soul sense into the ring on his hand. His voice came out low but clear, echoing with authority:
"Bring me that person... yes, the one His Highness Caesar gifted us."