The echoes of Khanâs voice kept resounding and spreading further through the quadrant before eventually dissipating. Even his connection to the symphony retreated, releasing it from his command.
At that point, Khan closed his eyes, sensing the cold hand holding his and the foreign affection and pride seeping through the mental connection, but focusing on his previous words.
The speech had come out more desperate than Khan would have wished for. Soldiers followed strength, while Khan felt he had projected weakness.
Still, everything Khan had said was the truth. That war was about the very right of any mana-based living being to exist, so it was their responsibility to fight and help. It was a unifying struggle to remain alive, which Khan hoped his words had conveyed.
Of course, Khan didnât expect much from the people in the white desert. After all, they were already somewhat confirmed allies out of virtue of their presence at the gathering.
The whole point of the speech was to reach the ears and hearts of those who werenât in the desert, hopefully prompting them to ignore duties and oaths to prioritize the war.
Namely, Khan wanted the evolved warriors on the Global Army and noble familiesâ payroll to understand the gravity of the situation and forsake the dangers associated with revealing themselves, abandoning their posts to focus on what truly mattered.
Obviously, Khan wouldnât mind if alien monsters joined his call to arms, too. He would even accept forgotten offspring of the Great Old Oneâs species at that point. Human evolved warriors were simply more likely to hear and listen to him.
No murmurs resounded once Khanâs speech ended. The partying didnât resume. The guests even refrained from drinking, seemingly stuck replaying those words in their heads, conflicted about what to make of them.
That wasnât due to the speechâs contents. Most guests were already aware of the threatâs nature in the end.
The issue was with the speechâs origin. Prince Khan was an infamous, fearsome individual, so hearing him basically begging for help was nothing short of shocking.
That went entirely against the idea that most people had of Khan. His usually overbearing and domineering actions were nowhere to be seen there. The guests only heard a man desperate to do the right thing, willing to demean and disgrace himself to achieve the greater good.
Nevertheless, before anyone could decide whether to respect or laugh about Khanâs actions, the Thilku Emperor started to stand up, generating familiar earthquakes despite his methodical gesture.
The earthquake prolonged the silence, and Khan reopened his eyes, pointing their blue glow at the tall figure towering on his left. He didnât know what the Emperor had in mind, but spotted the intact drink in his six-fingered hand.
"[Ah]!" The Emperor suddenly cried, his voice louder than ever, but also carrying a specific purpose.
Due to the never-ending series of shockwaves, the meeting among evolved representatives was at the center of a deserted area encircled by dunes, which the Emperorâs cry blew apart now.
Sand blew everywhere but failed to reaccumulate into physical hindrances, either dispersing past the vast gathering or vanquished by the appointed defensive measures.
The crowd still hindered most guestsâ vision, but the meetingâs true center was finally visible now, displaying the Emperorâs still-standing frame.
The Royal Guards followed suit, standing up, lifting their drinks at their fearsome leader, only looking at him but waiting for his speech to begin.
"Lord Blue Shaman knew about this enemy before being crowned Lord," The Emperor announced, making the quadrantâs defensive measures work overtime, "Before being crowned anything."
Unlike the Royal Guards, the Emperor had his gaze on Khan, matching his. It also sounded like he had done his research since tasking Khan with that special mission.
"He was alone," The Emperor continued, "But he fought anyway, knowing no one would believe him."
The Empire was guilty of that, too. Khan had shared the feelings from his nightmares to convince the Royal Court, but the Emperor had still waited until he brought back actual proof to mobilize his armies.
"And even if he had remained alone," The Emperor added, "He would have continued to fight, facing the whole war by himself. Iâve seen his resolve myself and will crush anyone who questions it."
Needless to say, the violent shockwaves and tremors that accompanied the Emperorâs statement sent chills down everyoneâs spines.
Of course, that didnât include Khan. If anything, he felt the urge to tease that big alien over his deadly protective stance toward him.
"But Lord Blue Shaman isnât alone!" The Emperor cried. "Lord Special Emissary brought us together to fight the greatest war the universe has ever seen, and fight it we will!"
Thilku stood up all over the gathering, uncaring of the confused gazes the surrounding guests shot at them, lifting their glasses toward that central spot in the desert.
"And win it we will!" The Emperor cried again. "For Prince Khanâs efforts, for the Empireâs pride, and to defy death!"
That change in titles didnât go unnoticed, but Khan dismissed it, standing up while also lifting his cup, bringing order to the symphony the Emperor had turned into a chaotic mess.
"To defy death!" Khan shouted, the sky echoing his voice once again.
"[Ah]!" The Emperor roared, inflicting irreparable damage to the quadrant, which his broadening smirk deepened. However, his eyes remained on Khan, eventually marking the end of the toast.
Khan drank, while the Emperor threw the entire cup into his broad mouth, gulping it whole. The Royal Guards echoed his roar at that point, shouting so loudly that everyone in the gathering heard them.
The other Thilku obviously followed suit, crying while emptying their cups, completing the toast their leader had called for.
Meanwhile, the Emperor stretched his now-empty hand forward, repeating his last statement in a far more contained voice, even switching to the Thilku language. "[To defy death]."
Khan didnât hesitate to take that hand, shaking it with conviction and firmness, reassured beyond reason. Even if no one were to listen to his call to arms, he knew he already had the best allies in the entire universe.