Chapter Text
A call for truce negotiations usually were the final spasms of a dying nation.
Phil didn't think a country should head to war if it wasn't willing to fight until the bitter end. Most conflicts did conclude with the complete annihilation of either party, simply because there was no going back once that first blow was dealt. To call a truce when so many had already died was generally frowned upon, seen as cowardly and pathetic. Any leader worth their position wouldn't stoop to that level. Even Phil, whose empire did not engage in war very often, knew that much.
But for the war against Skyblock, he was willing to make an exception.
The truth was such: Skyblock could swallow the Antarctic Empire eight times based just on its size. Phil's empire was small, tucked between mountains and created in harsh conditions. Their borders were mostly defined by natural elements. The only dividing line they shared with another country was in the south. Phil had watched with trepidation as the nation of Skyblock grew, going to war and then overtaking most other sovereign states on the continent until only a few were left. Most of them big enough to rival Skyblock and thus not as interesting as easy pickings. And then there was the Antarctic Empire.
Phil's nation was not easy to besiege, since the border was so small and the North sea deceptively treacherous. The terrain did not make for easy battlefields. But damn if Skyblock wasn't going to try their hardest.
The truth was also such: as hardy as the nature of the Antarctic Empire was, even hardier was its people. Phil would not go to war unless he could help it, but when he did he was not about to relinquish an inch. For almost four years, the battles in the South dragged on. Every time Skyblock managed to claim some land, the empire pushed until they could take it back. The death toll raked up pretty quickly, but that was also where the issue lay.
Since Skyblock was so much bigger than the Antarctic Empire, they could keep sending fresh recruits.
The war could continue endlessly this way. Phil's men were still dying, even if at a much slower rate than Skyblock's. Maybe eventually, he'd run out of troops. But how long would that take? Would Skyblock be willing to wait for the day it exhausted the enemy's resources? How many had to die before either of them was satisfied?
The answer came to Phil in a letter.
A truce, and a formal request for a meeting so a peace treaty could be discussed. An olive branch extended across blood-soaked land. Normally, not a thing Phil would look kindly upon.
But today, he extended his own hand in response.
Neutral territory was a bit of a stretch when the entire border had been turned into a battlefield. Phil had been traveling back and forth between this region and the capital for years. The trip took almost a week on horseback, longer if he was hauling along a large amount of supplies or a few regiments. Phil spent as much time as he could back home with his family, but the majority of the war he had been on the frontlines alongside his generals. Phil was not the type of ruler to command from the comfort of a throne, to watch others die at his behest.
The same could not be said for Dante.
During all the war, Phil had not seen the man who crowned himself king of Skyblock. When he arrived at the agreed upon meeting spot, he could only draw up an unimpressed eyebrow at the camp Dante had fashioned up for their negotiations. A proud pavilion tent stood in the middle, fabric stretched along wooden poles. The tent itself bore the same colors as the Skyblock flag, though a gaudy amount of banners had also been fastened to it and around it, leaving little doubt as to who it belonged. A few smaller tents stood behind it, presumably to house the men Dante brought with him. Phil had not brought any troops, aside from his most trusted general.
"Do you think he's compensating for something?" Sneeg asked, eyeing the pavilion with a certain expression. Phil exhaled a chuckle, doing his best not to laugh fully.
"He certainly likes to show off."
Four guards stood near the front of the camp. When they spotted Phil, one of them hurried into the pavilion to inform Dante of their arrival. Phil sighed. There was no going back anymore.
Slowly, he stepped down from the saddle as Sneeg did the same. Phil handed him the reins of his horse. "Wait out here. This shouldn't take too long."
"Are you sure?" Sneeg questioned. He was probably one of the few people within his ranks Phil would take questioning from. And he knew it came from a place of worry. Phil was stepping into the wolf's den.
"I'm sure."
Dante would not harm him. The man was smarter than that. Killing Phil during peace negotiations would solve nothing and extend the war needlessly. It wouldn't even cause a conflict with the throne. Kristin was fully equipped to rule in his place. If Dante had done his research, he knew this.
The guards bowed at Phil when he approached. At least they had been taught some manners, or perhaps it was all part of the facade Dante wanted to maintain. Phil didn't exactly feel good about rubbing shoulders with the man who was responsible for so much death and suffering. Obviously, the war had caused innocent deaths on both sides, but none of this would have happened if Dante wasn't a power-hungry tyrant. Pushing a flap of the pavilion aside so he could enter, Phil was met with a sight of disgusting decadence. Dante had forced some poor footsoldier to drag a heavy oak table and several chairs all the way out there, so he could set up the facsimile of an office. The floor was enforced with a tarp and a few strategic holes near the top of the pavilion allowed sunlight to stream in. Phil stepped inside, only for a man dressed as a servant to shoot forward and pull back one of the chairs for him.
Across the table, Dante sat with his legs crossed and his elbows planted on the table in front of himself. He waved at Phil, a smile stretched across his face. "Emperor! Come in, come in, make yourself comfortable."
Stiffly, Phil sat down on the provided seat.
"Can I offer you anything to drink? Some food? Travel must have exhausted you. It can be a slog, can't it?" Dante was already beckoning the servant over.
"I'm good," Phil said.
"Nonsense. A drink of the finest Skyblock wine, made from grapes we grow in our western vineyards. I insist." Without accepting his refusal, Dante had a glass poured for Phil, put delicately in front of him. Dante took his own glass with a nod. "If you need anything else, help yourself." Between them, several large plates of cheeses, meat cuts, and nuts had been prepared. Phil could barely contain a scowl.
So many civilians on either side of the border had been starved because of the war efforts.
"I'd prefer to get right down to business," Phil said after taking a small, polite sip of his wine and putting the glass down.
"Ah, a man who knows how to speak his mind." Dante sat back, relaxed, unhurried. "We both realize why we're here. This war has dragged on long enough."
Phil attempted at a deferential smile. "That is something I can agree with."
"Your empire would have been a lovely piece of land to add to my collection," Dante continued. The smug tone was probably intentional, maybe to piss Phil off. But Phil would not take the bait. Cheap fucking trick. "But perhaps I must admit I have underestimated your tenacity."
"Didn't think we'd fight back against a full invasion?" Phil asked innocently.
"Thought you'd roll over and give up," Dante answered without missing a beat. "It's what most of the other pathetic lot did. But you? No, not you, emperor. You're a real bastard."
"Thanks," Phil said while still smiling sweetly, knowing full well it wasn't meant to be interpreted as a compliment.
"Neither of us is going to win this war anytime soon if we keep going like this, and frankly I have better shit to do. Extending my resources like this is encroaching on my other… ambitions."
Phil had no idea what other ambitions a king like Dante could possibly harbor. But he nodded. Dante's reasons for wanting to end the war were irrelevant. His words still held undeniable truth. Neither of them would gain a definitive victory if they kept going as they were. That was the very reason he agreed to be there. "So what do you suggest?"
"Simple, really. I suggest peace."
"At what cost?" Phil asked.
"Ever the cautious man too." Dante laughed. "No true cost for you, you're definitely getting the better deal. All I ask is that our war ends here, and you never recommence it. You don't ally up with any of my enemies nor provide aid to those who stand in my way, and our paths don't ever have to cross again."
Not the worst proposition, Phil had to admit. He had no intention of forming an alliance with Dante, but he also had no intention of forming one with anybody else. So if Dante wanted to go off and wage more wars with other people, that was no business of Phil's.
"What do I get out of it?" he asked.
"An end to the war," Dante said. "And a promise that I will not start a new one, even in the future. As long as either of our lineages may thrive."
Phil smirked. "Sure, but is that all? You made kind of a mess out of the border region, mate. Don't you think I should get some reparations for that?"
Phil delighted in the lightest twitch of Dante's lip in irritation. He judged that Dante wouldn't back out of the negotiations that quickly, so he felt safe to push his luck.
"I suppose that can be discussed. We'll have to come up with the exact terms of our peace treaty later. But for now, it's sufficient to know we have a truce, right?" Dante extended his arm over the table, offering his hand for Phil to shake. "Deal?"
Phil leaned forward in his chair. Dante's skin was clammy and cold. "Deal."
As he sat back, Dante plopped a grape into his mouth, chewing with an unpleasant smack of his lips. "Of course, I don't expect you to take my word for it until we have it all sorted out. That is why I arranged an assurance for you." He once more waved to his servant, who hurried out of the pavilion this time.
Uncertain what that meant, Phil shifted back in the seat. "An assurance?"
"A war prisoner. For you to hold onto while negotiations are underway."
Dread filled an unpleasant pit in Phil's gut. Dante was seriously offering him a political hostage? Sure, it might be true that Phil didn't think he could trust this man as far as he could throw him, but the practice was barbaric. He'd basically be accepting a person as a meat shield. Somebody who had value to Skyblock, for Phil to keep in custody and assure himself Skyblock would not dare to restart provocations as long as that somebody could get caught in the crossfire.
"Is this really necessary?" he asked.
"Naturally," Dante said. "A promise is a promise. And I think you'll be interested in this particular prisoner."
The servant returned, this time followed by two guards who were flanking a man. The man had his hands tied in front of him with rope and a canvas sack over his head. He was wearing the standard Skyblock military uniform.
"I'm certain you've heard of The Blade?" Dante asked.
Phil clenched his jaw, almost biting his tongue in consternation. "I'm familiar."
Dante laughed, a loud and rambunctious thing that was aimed at Phil's expense. Again, Dante was no idiot. They both knew how much the mere mention of that name vexed Phil.
The Blade was probably the only general within Skyblock's ranks that was worth the damn title. As cunning as he was swift, The Blade had been a thorn in Phil's eye for the entire war. He had only crossed swords with the other man once or twice though, as Phil had no choice but to command his recruits from a distance that allowed a proper oversight of the playing field. And Dante too had often kept his favored general on a short leash, reaping the rewards of The Blade's tactical insight. But Phil had realized a long while ago that if Skyblock had anybody to thank for its victories, The Blade was that somebody. Without him, the war would have ended long ago.
And that was exactly why Dante considered him a sufficient peace offering, handed over to Phil on a silver platter.
"With one of my most skilled generals out of the equation, I'm certain you'd agree the risk of Skyblock continuing the war during the negotiations is slim," Dante said. "So you're free to take him. Do with him as you will. He's outlived his usefulness, and it's but a small price to pay for peace with your formidable empire, won't you agree?" A smile with too many teeth was thrown his way.
While Phil had absolutely no desire to take a prisoner, not accepting wasn't an option either.
"Fine," he said. "A small price for peace."
Technoblade was not having a great day.
Hearsay about an end to the war buzzed along the lower ranks. Techno didn't pay it much mind at first. Word that the war would conclude soon came every other week or so, rumors spurred on by desperation and exhaustion. Most soldiers wanted the war to end. They'd faced significant losses, some of these men had been away from home for years at a time, and the conditions could get pretty rough. Ration lines had been iffy at best, their supplies seemed to be in a constant state of running out.
If the war did end tomorrow, not one of them would be mournful about it. Least of all Techno.
But he didn't think the hearsay held much truth to it. Techno would say he'd become pretty closely acquainted with Dante over his career - much to his current regret - and that man had more pride in his pinkie finger than the average person had in their entire body. Ending the war before it had been won didn't seem like something Dante would do. Not even if continuing was to his own country's detriment.
Turned out Techno was wrong about that.
The day before the truce meeting, Dante instructed him and some others to pack up part of their camp and move closer to the border. He said they were meeting with the emperor of the Antarctic Empire. A tense hush fell over most of the soldiers within earshot, as if collectively they had all taken a breath of relief. That night, ale was poured, the fire was stoked, and songs rose out over the harsh winter cold.
Techno stayed skeptical as they were loading up the horses, as they cleared out a perimeter for Dante's terrible pavilion, as he had to haul a table and chairs off the cart to give a modicum of fanciness to the meager set-up. Truly, all of this seemed thoroughly unnecessary to him. If Dante wanted the war to end, all he had to do was pull back their men and retreat from the border. The Antarctic Empire wasn't exactly known for its aggression towards foreign nations. They wouldn't retaliate if Skyblock gave up the invasion.
But what did Techno know about politics? His advice was never appreciated outside of the battlefield.
After everything was prepared, he retreated to his quarters. About the only upside of his rank was that he was provided some privacy even in the horrid conditions of their encampments. Techno had his own tent, slightly bigger than the one officers got, and more importantly, unlike them Techno did not have to share his. He enjoyed being able to read without being disturbed on the few quiet nights they had.
Or how his nightmares didn't draw too much attention if they kept him awake until the early hours.
While in his tent, Techno did hear the shuffling of armored footsteps outside. He even heard the corner of the canvas being lifted slowly but thought nothing of it. Perhaps it was fresh instructions about how tomorrow was supposed to go. Or a fellow commander coming to Techno for advice.
Then he turned around and saw the swords already in their hands, and knew something much worse was going on.
"General Technoblade, you are under arrest."
"For what?" Techno asked.
He watched the two soldiers share a glance, making it obvious even they didn't know the nature of the order. One looked back at him with an almost pained expression. "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be, Techno."
Despite his general introverted nature, Techno was well-liked enough among the men. Keeping them from dying was a main aspect of his job, and Techno was very good at it too. That tended to make one appreciated.
Dante must not feel the same.
"Fine," he said, extending his arms in front of himself. The first soldier looped a rope around his wrists, lashing them together while the other lightened Techno of all his weapons. He already wasn't wearing his armor since he was preparing for bed. They took him outside, and for a moment Techno assumed they must be bringing him to the king.
No, he was bound to one of the wooden fixtures in the middle of camp.
The fixture was low to the ground and the rope so short that Techno had no choice but to kneel unless he wanted to end up with a permanent bent in his spine. The soldiers who left him there made themselves scarce quickly, the shame coloring their faces giving Techno little comfort. Everybody else avoided him, didn't even look at him. Techno had no idea what was going on.
After several hours, Dante came to enlighten him.
"General," Dante greeted him with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry about the suddenness of all this."
"You realize this is an unlawful arrest, right?" Techno asked, squinting up at Dante through the darkness. Behind him, two torches kept Dante a backlit silhouette, but Techno's eyes hadn't adjusted yet.
"Ah, well, I'm afraid we both know what you're under arrest for." Dante's dark irises reflected the flickering flames. "Treason."
The blood ran cold in Techno's veins. "You told me-"
"Not to mention war crimes against the Antarctic Empire, a nation with which Skyblock will soon commence a fruitful treaty. A truly unfortunate thing." Dante shook his head sadly. Maybe the act would be more convincing if he wasn't still grinning.
"So, what, you're going to execute me over it?" Techno spat. He should have never trusted Dante. He should have never thought the agreement wouldn't come back to bite him. Bitterness was hard to swallow down, like barbed wire on the inside of his throat.
"If that's what the emperor sees fit to do with you," Dante said, waving his hand casually. "It's really out of my hands, isn't it?" He nodded at one of the guards he'd brought with and the man approached, brandishing a canvas bag. Techno wanted to tear away, but there wasn't exactly much he could do while tied up. The fabric was pulled down over his face, forced slightly too tight around his throat. Dante's next words came muffled. "Try to get some rest. You're one of the lucky few who will be meeting our esteemed guest tomorrow."
All night Techno knelt there, the coldness slowly seeping into his bones. His knees hurt, and after a while his head started to pound either from exhaustion or dehydration. Maybe he nodded away once or twice, always flinching awake at the jerk of his body about to slump and hit the ground. He could only tell that morning had finally arrived when he could hear the sounds of the camp coming to live around him.
That space of time felt like it lasted forever yet passed in a blink.
When somebody finally pulled him to his feet, Techno stumbled and would have fallen if their tight grip hadn't kept him upright. The blood was taking a moment finding its way back into his extremities, barely allowing him to weakly curl his fingers. He was dragged somewhere, feeling grass first then tarp. They must have been brought inside the pavilion. Techno felt the shift in heat, the carrying lul of Dante's venomous voice.
"-you'll be interested in this particular prisoner."
The people holding him stopped moving, so Techno also came to a stuttering halt, sagging in the hold before straightening his back to maintain some dignity. Because of the sack over his face, he couldn't see anything. But he didn't need to. He could perfectly imagine the emperor's calculating gaze dissecting him.
"I'm certain you've heard of The Blade?" He heard Dante ask.
"I'm familiar," the emperor answered.
"With one of my most skilled generals out of the equation, I'm certain you'd agree the risk of Skyblock continuing the war during the negotiations is slim." Techno almost scoffed. Dante really was a piece of work. "So you're free to take him. Do with him as you will. He's outlived his usefulness, and it's but a small price to pay for peace with your formidable empire, won't you agree?"
A tense few seconds of silence followed. Then an exhale, barely perceptible as a sigh. "Fine. A small price for peace."
"I'm glad to throw in a horse as well, I believe you have a decent journey ahead of you." Dante's voice moved around the pavilion, betraying that he was walking. Techno felt a hand settle on his elbow a moment later, squeezing uncomfortably.
"Thanks. It would be nice to finally head home," the emperor said.
Dante personally led him outside. Techno supposed he should be honored. Not everybody got a personal farewell from the king while having their freedom relinquished to an enemy nation. Really fancy stuff. At one point they stopped, and somebody else took his elbow instead. After several more minutes of walking, the sack was suddenly pulled away, rough material scratching at Techno's skin.
Emperor Philza stood before him, a severe expression on his face.
"What is your real name?" he asked. The other end of the rope had been handed over to another person, one of the emperor's soldiers presumably. He was the only man the emperor had brought with him by the looks of it. The rope was being tied to the saddle of a horse with a gorgeous black coat.
"Technoblade," he said.
The emperor nodded. "Feel free to call me Philza."
Technoblade decided right then and there he'd rather die than do that.
The emperor helped him mount a horse Dante had provided, though with his hands tied together Techno couldn't grip the reins. He pressed his heels into the stirrups to keep his balance, and watched the emperor get on the black horse in front of him. Philza stroked the animal's mane a few times, before clicking his tongue and spurring it into motion.
And just like that, Techno was off to whatever the emperor had in mind for him before putting him on the gallows.