Marshal Ferragu rose to his feet and pleaded with his patron, his tone earnest.
"You once served in the Governor's Office. By the time you entered politics in the Blue Star Commonwealth, the Empire could already have called you a traitor. But that didn't matter. Marshals Li and Luckner had both served in the Imperial Army's reserve forces, and Marshal Cook made his fortune through his dealings with the Jialuo Trading Company. But you succeeded in founding this country. That made you revolutionaries, not traitors. Now, even if this country falls, what kind of reputation would you leave behind if you changed sides again? You're the only surviving leader of the War of Independence. I hope the name you leave to posterity is that of a steadfast patriot."
Prime Minister Guard looked at Marshal Ferragu in surprise, feeling rather moved.
At first, he'd thought the man had truly lost his mind. He was actually going to betray his patron? That was a major political taboo. And if he'd been doing it to get ahead himself, well, fine—but for some grand cause of country and people? Wasn't that a little too self-righteous? Too out of place? Completely off-brand?
Had he even looked at himself? With that big, greasy, corrupt face of his, how could he ever pass for a hero?
Of course, if he was thinking of his patron's posthumous reputation, that was another matter.
In any case, plenty of the people present, including Prime Minister Guard, were susceptible to this sort of thing. Looking at Marshal Ferragu's utterly sincere face, they were moved.
Who could turn down such a loyal old subordinate?
Of course, being moved didn't change reality. Someone still murmured, "We'll die. We'll die. The Imperial Army's cannons will vaporize us. There won't even be bodies left. We'll..."