Now time was running out. Blackwell was on the march, and in a matter of days, they might find themselves on the battlefield. And still, Karstly had failed to acquire that which he looked for. Fourth Boundary he was, but he did not chase the Fifth Boundary. He knew that simply improving his individual might would not make him a match for Tiberius. It was strategy that made Tiberius so terrifying, strategy on the level – or perhaps even beyond it – of Minister Hod.
More complicated paintings, more colours to paint with, more techniques to shape the battlefield in front of him, that was what Karstly desired, and he spoke to the Gods of that desire, but they seemed very well in effect to ignore him.
He twisted his lips in irritation. Arrogance had always come so easily when he was able to get exactly what he wished by his own hands. Now it was something beyond himself that he had to turn to, because he had none of the answers himself.
