The Conquerors Bloodline - Chapter 306: The Khan 4

“Audacious of you. Doing something like that.” She said, voice as cold as iron.

“Just proving a point,” he faced her directly, not bothering to inspect their now hollow confines. His voice echoed against the walls, repeating his words, again and again, dying in the distance.

“By using a woman’s sickness against a man?” Sienna scoffed, fingers rolling on the iron armrests of her throne, head tilted up with eyes cast down over her nose and lips pulled back into a sneer. “All you’ve proven is just how much like a human you are.”

His lips quivered for a second. He could see that any good faith he’d created in revealing his wing had disappeared in a second. Parc fully agreed with her though, such a cruel thing, it wasn’t instinctual, nothing like animals. It was thought out, a hot knife to an already open wound. How else could he describe it but as being ‘human.’

“I won’t deny it. Won’t try to, Sienna. I’ve grown up around humans. Seen what they’re willing to do. I can assure you though, compared to the things I’ve seen…” his haughty expression fell, his eyes darkened and his stomach churned. Sayo came to mind. Those people from her world. The Minister and worse… “Frankly, I’ve seen worse. Worse than you or any other Faunus could think possible.”

Sienna wanted to scoff, to parade about the horrors she’d seen. The mines where bodies still lay, crushed beneath rockfalls and cave-ins. The slave dens, where young Faunus girls were sold as stock to be violated. But something in the way he looked, he didn’t look at her so sharply as before, and there wasn’t a lustre to his eyes like had been when his words rang in the ears of many. They were empty, not haunted, sorrowful. She couldn’t let herself get sympathetic nor empathetic with him. She forced what that look had made and shoved it somewhere deep, far out of sight.

“Let’s get on with this.” She tightened her grip on her armrest. “Lady told me you have some type of business proposition for the White Fang.”

“Nothing overly complex, I can assure you that much.” Parc scratched his arm, gripped the hem of his pants and pulled them up over his waist, realigning them till they were comfortable. “Simply put, I want a treaty between you, and me.”

Sienna hummed, eyes narrowing. “Peace, is it? Considering what you’ve just presented here, you should already know that Adam’s actions in Vale have been denounced by all other branches of the White Fang. As far as we’re concerned, we have no issues with you.”

He chuckled, “oh, I’m plenty aware. Just as well, I know that you’re still supplying him with information and resources. I’m not interested in the skin, Sienna. I’m talking about the flesh and bones. A partnership, you could say. A win-win situation.”

Leaning into her throne, Sienna crossed her legs, drawing Parc’s gaze to those supple, lean legs and how her pants hugged her body. Truly a beautiful sight. “Right. And what exactly would you be offering? Your information resources? Some way to bring about true equality for Faunus? Or something idiotic like ‘your love.'” Sienna gruffly huffed. Some White Fang women had been dragged into Parc’s little libidinous stint. Their reports had been clear, more descriptive than most were comfortable with.

“Love’s a fickle thing. As much as I would love to just give it out to every woman I see, I can’t. No. Simply put, yes, I may be able to offer you a way to bring about true faunus equality.” Sienna perked up, though never lost that doubtful look to her. “One billion three hundred and fifty million. Do you know what that number is?” he took a second to breathe and let Sienna think.

“That is… I believe that’s how many humans are expected to be alive on Remnant.”

“And Faunus,” he applauded her, clapping once then twice. “Excluding nomadic tribes of course. Though doubtful they’d make a massive dent in such a gargantuan number as it is.” Not as large as Earth, but certainly a respectable amount. “Now, what does one billion twelve million and five hundred thousand mean?” for the sake of posterity, Parc didn’t linger for long to answer. “It’s seventy-five percent. Now, five hundred and fifty-three million and five hundred thousand makes up about forty percent of the total number in all.

“I won’t waste any time mincing around trying to be this enigmatic puzzle lord or something like that. That last number, five hundred and fifty-three million and five hundred thousand is about how unified the civilizations of all of Remnant currently are.”

Confusion billowed in Sienna’s eyes, before she could say something, Parc lifted one hand and extended his index, stopping her.

“You see, Sienna. My goal, at least, my most irritating one, is bumping up that little forty-one percent, up to seventy-five. Why? Too annoying to explain and I do not have the energy to answer all the questions that come with it.” He rubbed his thumb over his index and middle finger, feeling sweat, he dried his hands on his pants, “Now, Faunus make up about twenty percent of the total population across all the continents. The highest collection thereof, little more than thirteen percent, is here on Menagerie. With two percent in Vale, one in Vacuo, three on Mistral, and barely knocking half a percent up in Atlas.”

“You’ve done your research. Brilliant. Impressive,” she mulled, less impressed than when she’d watched a twelve-year-old boy stub his toe on a football.

“Thanks. It took me nearly three months to figure this out. Did you know, there hasn’t been a census on Faunus population done in thirty years? Nightmarish honestly.” A breeze gusted in from a crack high up on the wall, sweeping against Parc’s body and caused goosebumps to rise across his barren and scarred hide. Sienna would be lying to herself if she didn’t find the sight of such a chiselled chest the least bit attractive. “Anyhow. To put it simply, I am hoping to add that thirteen percent onto my already present forty-one percent. Simpler said than done, and honestly, I’m somewhat expecting that a decent portion of that percentage to already be tied up in the forty-one.” There were lots of questions too many to answer.

“I see.” She didn’t, he spoke in rhymes, no reason or logic. “Unifying Remnant is an admirable idea. Something I wish was possible. But it’s an idiotic concept. Humans aren’t willing to blend with us Faunus. Not without persuasion. Violent, persuasion.”

“Oil and water don’t mix either, but add a little egg into the mix and voila, you have an emulsion.”

“You’re suggesting a third part could connect humanity and Faunus?” Sienna’s expression fell, growing colder by the second. “You?” her breath scathing.

“Partly. I would act more as the catalyst. The shell of the egg, you could say. Holding the third part of the puzzle that is unity.”

Sienna rolled her fingers across the armrests, staring with tiger-like sharpness down at Parc. It was an idiotic notion, no doubt about that. This little pup thinks himself a wolf. The world wasn’t so kind.

“You can say that all you want, but in the grander scheme of things, you aren’t going to accomplish anything. With your access to information, if you even have so much. Maybe, just maybe, you could manipulate those in the human rings. The CEOs, the ministers, the council members, and force them to accept us, but that’s never going to bring unity. You need more than just a pretty face and a sharp tongue to do something like that.”

“True. Though, what about an army? Would that be enough?” his lips curled, cheeks dimpling as his teeth shone white in the vicious light beaming through the windows high up.

“Armies just show domination. Not connection.”

“Like extremist faction who burn buildings to the ground to show their peace and love?”

She paused, casting him a sour look, “Even then,” she sunk into her seat, already preparing herself to answer his offer, no matter what he may say next, “what would the point be in coming to me for this little fool’s quest of yours? Clearly, you’re expecting me to help you with it. You’ve yet to tell me how, neither have you told me why I would do something that could backfire quite violently.”

“Is respect not enough for you? Or do you just want the utter destruction of humanity now? Give them a taste of what the faunus have gone through.”

“Is that wrong?”

“Not at all. But you can’t deny that it’s about the most human thing you could do.” She didn’t have a retort for that, no matter how sour it made her feel. “I’m offering you a chance to bolster the view of faunus around the world. In the coming months, things are going to change. Events are going to happen. People are going to die. Both human and Faunus. Sadly, it’s inevitable.”

Sienna sat up urgently, “are you suggesting another Great war is coming?”

“To a degree yes, to a degree no. It will be a war, great or not, I cannot say. That is something We’ll have to wait for to properly answer. In essence, Sienna, I’m hoping that you take this opportunity to become more than just a violent insurgent force. I would like for the White Fang to take something of a U-turn. Become a bit of a guardian force to the world. In doing so…”

A spark lit in her eyes, sharp and intrigued, “We’d replace fear, with adoration.”

“To a degree,” he affirmed.

The spark didn’t last verily long, the excitement boiled down as her mind process the concept. “Idiotic and naive. Something like that, it’d need more than just a little hostile army. Something you don’t have. I can tell you that much.”

Parc smiled, sending shivers down Sienna’s spine. There was little emotion to it. As Parc lifted one hand, brought his fingers to his lips, she tensed and nearly reached for her weapon when a piercing whistle erupted from him. As his hand fell, silence came to bear. Cold silence. Empty. Until there was a click against glass, sharp and ringing that pulled Sienna’s head up, just in time to watch as glass shattered all across the ceiling of the building sending star glinting shards dancing across the air and for dark feathered shadows to rush in. From the soulless stench, she already knew what they were.

Sienna bolted to her feet, ripped the chained whip from her wrist and readied it to attack. But as a small black bird raced bast her head, forcing her to duck, she was able to follow it and watched it come to perch atop Parc’s outstretched arm like a well-trained falcon.

Surrounding the boy, easily three dozen more small, white-masked devil birds. Nevermore’s, young ones, weak. Barely a threat to the most inexperienced of fighters. In a swarm, they may have been deadly but here, before her. They sat docilely, hopping around and preening themselves casually. Parc focused on the small one on his arm and with his other hand, scratched beneath its chin. Sienna swore she could see its four vile red eyes close in delight.

“Sienna,” he looked up to her, his eyes a sharp red glint, “I would like you to meet the egg in this emulsion.”