Aureate gazed upon his work with a smile.
All around him stood his family, looking with admiration.
In the small valley before them was a sprawling complex of tents and temporary buildings, although on one side the construction of more permanent ones had commenced.
This was Bellum academy.
The largest facility for the training of Huntsmen in history.
Almost ten thousand young men and women were in the tents below, volunteers to be a part of this massive step in Tarchi's development.
In a year, there would be twenty thousand.
By the time these first ones graduated, Aureate's advisors projected that each year would produce upwards of fifteen thousand huntsmen.
Tarchi could sustain this rate only because it's population was so massive.
The Great Kingdoms, for all their vaunted power, contained only one or two cities each.
In the decade since its golden age had begun, Tarchi had grown to encompass over two dozen. Small cities that had once served as the capitals of small territories had been united under one banner.
Over a hundred million souls called Tarchi their home.
And with plentiful food and massive demand for labour in the constant expansion and improvement projects, there was no longer hardship in Tarchi.
Where once drought had tormented the population, there was now plentiful water from the frequent rains.
Where once foreign companies had kept the region in turmoil, there were no more foreign companies in the region.
Where once rival warlords had warred, now there was only Tarchi.
Aureate smiled happily, patting Tzeentch on the back as the two gazed upon the great work envisioned by the latter and made real by the former.
Gratia called to them, and they made their way to the picnic that had been laid out on the grass nearby.
Two guards stood a small distance away, holding their silent vigil.
Two more were escorting the reporters that had been invited to the grand reveal that would begin shortly.
Aureate was one or two swivel their cameras towards the picnic, and turned to smile at the camera for a photograph or two before returning his attention to his family.
The book had once again been correct in its predictions.
Three weeks of clear weather had hastened the construction of this proud monument to Tarchi's future.
And yet rain had persisted across the agricultural regions of Tarchi, promising another bountiful harvest.
He accepted a glass of wine from Gratia, leaning back to enjoy the sun.
Once the sun had beaten down on Tarchi, a baleful heat that had dried the ground and killed indiscriminately.
Now it was a gentle caress, a blessing to the farms and orchards that fed the Blessed Nation, as some had started to call it.
And then the silence shattered.
From the nearest edge of the woodland that crowned the hills around the valley came a sound like a low curse, shortly followed by a flurry of activity.
Aureate sprang to his feet just in time to see two men in camouflage clothing stand up, weapons trained on him and his family.
One of his guards acted immediately, raising his rifle and turning towards the men with a shout.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
One of the men turned to fire at the guards, one guard falling to the first burst of fire.
The second turned his weapon towards Aureate and his family, stepping out of the bushes for an unobstructed view.
Aureate could almost see the finger tightening on the trigger.
Then, suddenly, the man went limp, falling to the ground.
His companion turned his own weapon towards the picnic, movements almost frantic.
He hurled a small object at Aureate, before returning his hand to its former position steadying the gun.
He too went limp and fell.
The object landed at Aureate's feet, bouncing once before coming to a halt an inch from Aureate's left foot.
For several seconds nothing happened.
The guard who had been shot stood up, one hand clutching his shoulder.
All had been recorded by the lucky reporters who had had their cameras turned to the family as they were having a picnic.
Investigation revealed a third man, lying dead draped across a strange rifle in the underbrush.
The autopsy revealed the same cause of death for all of them: Total failure of every organ in their body.
The object that had landed at Aureate's feet had been a grenade, which had failed to detonate.
Shaken by the ordeal, Aureate had postponed the official opening ceremony for two hours so that a search could be mounted for further assassins, before performing the opening ceremony. He made sure to send his family back to the palace first, just in case.
The ceremony was uneventful.
The lessons at the academy had begun days before, retired huntsmen and monks from the aura monastery teaching classes of eager students how to use the strength of their souls.
Roads and railways connected the academy to nearby towns and cities, and a large airfield was under construction that would enable training exercises against Grimm to take place outside the kingdom where Grimm could be found.
Aureate walked into a few classrooms, smiling and complimenting, to keep morale high.
The classes were large, with forty or more students each.
This would be remedied as teachers were imported from other kingdoms, and Aureate offered high salaries to attract as many as possible.
His next duty for the day was visiting one of the weapon research laboratories he's established to see some of the latest prototypes in action.
The head researcher gave him a tour of the facility, and introduced him to some of the staff.
One man caught his eye.
The man was respectful but abrupt and cynical.
He worked alone in a large room with piles of components strewn about and half-assembled objects stacked on tables.
After leaving the room the head researcher informed him that the man was their most prolific and eccentric staff members, taking Aureate to see one of the man's prototypes in action.
The prototype in question was a massive cannon-like object that fired shells the size of a man's fist at an incredible rate.
The demonstration involved the cannon hammering a sheet of tank armour into tiny shreds in seconds.
He was informed that the massive shells were also one of the man's creations.
He immediately signed an order prioritising the study of the weapon, as the tome had suggested.
The image of such a cannon being used to destroy a massive horde of Grimm brought a smile to his face.