There is a murmur over the audience chamber of the Imperial Palace as the nobles gather and take seats in their raised rows of seating. Foreign nobles are also welcome, though their seating is on a secondary level above the audience chamber. While Daniel mentioned a mild surprise to this design in the debrief following Plan Troll, since it places foreign nobles above even the Empress, Sundenelle explained to Neith while they’re waiting that the design actually does a better job of projecting the voices of the Imperial nobility and vassals, especially those nearest the front and center with the Empress herself. Some audiences are held for spectacle, after all, though a large gathering like this one is more specifically a desperate call to action in regards to the mana fire. Less than half of the seats are actually going to be filled, and most of the individuals who will be attending are already gathered.

  Sundenelle finally stands up, and the herald calls out, “Silence for her Imperial Majesty!”

  Neith is still in his ‘Sir Larven’ full body armor, though with a more colorful GZE mantle and gold-plated bands on his wrists, neck, and horns to draw attention to his horns, mainly, but balance the rest of his armor. His mantle also splits at the back so that the two sides hang on either side of his tail to allow it to comfortably remain visible, in case anyone doubts he is Sundenelle’s new “right-hand dragon”. Befitting this unofficial title, he is standing just behind the right side of her throne, and he was given instructions to observe Yaulander, Nesparu Contarro, and a few other nobles. If they make any moves or if Larven can detect telepathy directed at Zuzia, he needs to prevent the otherworlder from being reclaimed by Yaulander.

  The dragon knight knows he’s going to end up fighting the powerful otherworlder. She explained that, while she was trapped in Serrentuk’s void, she punched a lot of the monsters and other objects to ease her boredom and frustration, both her and the elven sage believing she couldn’t interfere with anything within. However, one of the beings, allegedly, is Sayrdarralouche, an ancient dragon much older than Neith, and one of the few beings in the world that can probably compare to Shiaulvolgarro, who, according to the black dragon himself, was around ten thousand years old.

  And, according to Zuzia, her impacts were delayed until the monsters and dragon were withdrawn from Serrentuk’s Gate, and they exploded.

  Thankfully, she doesn’t know that I, personally, have faced the Harbinger of Calamity.

  The grey dragon smirks at this thought, pleased to ponder the small, seemingly insignificant scar on his forehead. Only a mere inch or so of difference, and he, too, would be a headless late dragon.

  Don’t worry, Zuzia. I won’t let you land a hit on me.

  The knight looks to Sundenelle, who has already greeted the nobles and briefly summarized the fire in Centerhold.

  “I want to know who was carrying out operations in Centerhold. If there were spell tests being performed, I should have been informed.” Sundenelle has a surprisingly commanding voice that a wind mage across from Larven is helping amplify to the whole audience chamber. She has always spoken with a great deal of conviction and with a voice that somewhat surprisingly invites attention in a way that few can say ‘no’ to.

  “Could we have been attacked, your Majesty?” asks King Vubenclef, who, according to Sundenelle, is one of her loyalists. While he’s technically just shy of being a full vassal to the Empire, he has proven to be as reliable to her as Walliskah.

  “That’s what I want to know. I know you all employ spies in each others’ midsts, so someone here knows what’s going on.” She scans the crowd. Of course, she already has direct knowledge of who is responsible, which does have a partial inclusion of Daniel and the other Fievegal members who accompanied him on an attempted rescue of Zuzia and a successful one of the strange woman known as Amalaskae.

  And, upon being called out for the inter-aristocratic espionage that is a commonplace part of the nobility of any nation, there is an awkward exchange of glances between the nobles, vassal kings and queens, and other members of the audience chamber. It’s an unspoken truth they all know. While not every aristocrat spies on every other aristocrat, between the lot of them and the spies they have deployed, virtually everyone is being spied on at all times in some capacity.

  Duke Walliskah offers after a long, awkward pause of no one speaking up, “There is a chance that the party involved has not yet arrived in the Capital, your Majesty. Though, if what you say is true, and there is a wildfire in Centerhold, the cause may need to wait until after it has been extinguished.”

  “You’re right, Duke Walliskah,” replies the Empress. “But, what we need right now is information to combat the blaze. Grand Prince, the Grand Principality directly controls Centerhold. Have you received any reports regarding the status of the fortress?”

  Larven can’t help but admire Yaulander for one thing if nothing else. He has the composure of an ice statue, unfazed by being questioned directly. He isn’t sweating, and he doesn’t defensively try to deny. He simply cocks his head, absorbing her question and wearing the same neutral expression he has held since he entered the audience chamber. His scarred left eye, hidden by an ornate, bandana-like one-eye mask, adds a level of gravitas and sympathy for the blond man that he didn’t have during his audience…

  … Nor when he departed his carriage upon Zuzia’s reckless arrival.

  “Your Imperial Majesty, as you know, I was already on the road to the Imperial Palace, so I have not received any elaborate reports about the Centerhold Region. I will look into it immediately after this audience, but I’m afraid you have more information than I do.” He does study her for a moment, since she has maintained her albino appearance, rather than restoring her disguise device. She does look somewhat ghostly because her skin is far more pale than it was, and her hair is glassy like strands of spider silk or even diamond thread.

  “Forgive me for being behind on information, your Majesty. But, if you are ill, I would encourage you to rest before prioritizing a mere fire that will burn itself out well before it reaches any other territories. Centerhold is mostly barren, so the fire will run out of fuel soon enough.”

  “You did miss a lot,” replies the young Empress. “Unavoidable circumstances revealed this pale skin and hair that I have been hiding for most of my life. However, I have been reassured by my new benefactor that I have no true reason to hide my appearance, which inspired me to proudly show who I am. But, I am not the focus of this emergency gathering. There is an unnatural fire spreading in the Exclave, and if it holds its current rate, we have less than a full week before it will reach the Capital of Ahmpur. I don’t think I need to remind anyone here how important the city of Urflasdat is.”

  Sundenelle lets this sink in for a moment. Larven doesn’t know for sure, but being a capital of a country somewhat central between the Empire, Mattarglos, and most of the rest of the continent, it’s likely a rather important trade hub.

  I’ll need to double-check this with her in private.

  During the conversation where Daniel mentioned the possibility of needing to use a ‘God-killer’, he drew a rough circle on the map with his finger, and that circle captured the capital of Ahmpur. If he’s forced to use them, the capital is lost either way. The difference will be whether or not they can evacuate a capital city in time.

  “Your Majesty,” starts Viscount Winnelheit, who is the lord of a territory closer to Ahmpur in the northeast part of the Imperial territory. “I’m afraid… between your new appearance, and… your newest knight… Questions have arisen…”

  “This isn’t the time for obscure implications,” retorts the young Empress. “Say your piece, or address the questions I have posed.”

  “It seems more likely that this attack originated from the Fievegal,” replies Winnelheit. “There are those among us that would prefer you withhold Imperial duties until you can be properly assessed by the Imperial Grand Arcanist for demonic brainwashing. Surely, you would agree the circumstances… raise doubts, your Imperial Majesty.”

  Larven knows Daniel will eventually face questions like this, and knowing the Earthling as he does so far, the Fievegal’s Emperor would allow talk, so long as it doesn’t rise to the level of actual incitement for dissent.

  Sundenelle holds her head high, her expression unflappable. “Is this the consensus of this court, or is it a minority opinion? Raise your hands if you agree with Viscount Winnelheit.”

  There is some hesitation, but a few scattered hands go up. Surprisingly, though, Yaulander and Nesparu don’t raise their hands, in spite of the Grand Prince questioning her appearance first, as if to inspire the subsequent question.

  They’re probably trying to deflect her attention. Zuzia did say Yaulander seems to behave recklessly at times, and carefully at others.

  The dragon turns his eyes on the patient-looking Grand Prince. He has a fairly neutral expression on his scarred face, while Nesparu seems to be more exhausted than interested in the audience. He didn’t ride with Yaulander, and instead, showed up after riding day and night to try to catch up. He seems to have suffered a major loss, as well, but has loyally shown up to support the Grand Prince.

  And, given Serrentuk’s involvement at Centerhold, Nesparu was there as well.

  Sundenelle answers the hands raised by saying, “I see. You think I am beholden to the Fievegal simply because my true appearance has been exposed, and I am being ‘watched over’ by one of the Fievegal’s dragons, is that it?”

  There’s an awkward silence, and Sundenelle looks over her shoulder to Larven. “Sir Larven, get on your hands and knees right here.”

  “As you wish, your Grace,” replies the dragon without hesitation. She did warn him that it would be part of the plan, and he is doing so as the fictional ‘Sir Larven’, rather than as Neith. Even if it gets out, he has seen through Daniel that surrendering an advantage in the name of pride is the easiest way to be killed by the weakest human in the world. The prideful Morthybargaron never wore armor. Nor did Mulmonbargonaed. They are now little more than bad memories for everyone that knew them.

  Larven does as instructed, lowering himself to his hands and knees in front of Sundenelle, and she immediately walks around to his head, which is facing towards the main audience. She takes a seat on his back, her legs crossed on top of his head.

  The audience chamber is silent. She asks as she bobs her legs, rocking back and forth to find a comfortable spot on his back, and her calves end up positioned on his shoulder by the time she finds a comfortable position squarely in the middle of the dragon’s torso. “I would be quite flattered if you believe that I have somehow converted into a dragon-kin or even some other divine being, such a dragon, if you believe that I am any different. I have explained many times the pragmatic choice I have made in order to shackle the Fievegal to the Empire to avoid a bloody war we have very little chance of winning. And, as a token of gratitude, I have been granted this unique privilege.”

  “With all due respect, your Majesty,” cuts in Yaulander. “If the beast is bound to you by an enslavement…”

  Without warning, Sundenelle yelps. Her balance is nearly lost for a moment as Larven takes hold of her legs and stands up, skillfully shifting her to a seated position on his shoulder even as he swiftly rises to his feet. She is towering over those in the rows closest to the throne, since Larven is taller than most humans, and only a couple boruans are present in the audience chamber. He looks down on the Grand Prince, who instinctively stood up.

  “Do not, for one second, believe I would hesitate, human. I serve her Grace of my own will, alongside her intended, the Harbinger of Calamity and Emperor of Dragons.”

  “Your Majesty!” exclaims the blond as the others watch in fear.

  Sundenelle was surprised by the move, but sitting so high up on his shoulder, she leans on his helmet to keep her balance steady and also give herself a more relaxed posture as she smiles down at Yaulander. “The Fievegal hates you, your highness,” states Sundenelle. “If I was their servant, rather than one of the illustrious few to rule the Fievegal, would I not simply kill you? Your service in ensuring the throne passed from my Late and truly unparalleled Imperial Father as his only true-born heir has not been forgotten. And, while we have wasted time with this foolish farce questioning my divine right to rule this Empire simply because of hair and eye color, when half of this audience chamber is wearing various cosmetics and magic devices to do the very same, the fire that threatens one of the Empire’s vital trade hubs continues to spread. A fire in a territory you are responsible for, Grand Prince Yaulander kos Strylaph.”

  Yaulander is a little intimidated, but Larven is mindful that it could still be an act. He didn’t flee the room, nor did he draw a weapon to fend off the dragon, as futile as that would be. He’s relatively in control of his ‘panic’, and his composure returns rather quickly after Sundenelle’s speech.

  “Your Imperial Majesty, please forgive me if I was out of line. I should not have disgraced your knight’s loyalty. And, forgive my ignorance, but since it does seem there is a lack of information on the fire at present, can you at least explain whether or not the Fievegal could be responsible? By the sounds of it, you believe it is more severe than a wildfire the likes of which the empire has dealt with four times in my lifetime alone. There are only two nations on the continent with the spells or technology capable of even matching a wildfire, let alone surpassing it. One is the kingdom of Mornistae, and the other…” He gestures to Larven. “Has dragons and other destructive weapons.” He bows as he adds, “This has already been a tense gathering, but I do see the merit in not ruling out the powerful simply because they are powerful. Otherwise, you would need to suspect me as well.”

  He’s clever, thinks Larven. Clever enough, anyways. He lies rather easily, and if we didn’t already know, it would sound like an innocent enough argument for why everyone keeps bringing up the Fievegal. It’s not yet known by anyone else that he stole the void artilleries.

  Sundenelle taps Larven’s helmet, saying seriously, “Please set me down, Sir Larven.”

  “As you wish, my Liege.” The dragon knight carefully kneels and sets her feet on the ground, backing out from under her with a level of skill to suggest he was used to such a powerful display.

  For her part, Sundenelle can’t help but wonder, That was actually a bit amusing. Though, I do wonder if Daniel would be able to do the same… He is rather tall and seems quite strong for a human…

  She then says seriously, “Forgive me as well, your Highness. I allowed my knight to speak rudely. I will reprimand him, and if it happens again, his replacement will be in swift order. Is that clear?” She tilts her head enough, sharpening her tone at the end to make it clear the last part was for Larven.

  “Crystal clear, your Majesty. I shall speak only when spoken to from now on. Forgive this humble servant.”

  There’s a moment of awkward quiet with the other nobles, since ‘humble’ is rather questionable after the display he just put on, let alone his flashy armor and cape. But, it’s quite obvious that Sundenelle has control over one of the mighty and proud dragons, in spite of her being a human. She speaks and behaves convincingly like herself, and the only true difference anyone can point to is her appearance, which she could demonstrate is not limited only to her if she chooses to.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Now then, how many mobile firefighting units have we received from the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy?” asks Sundenelle.

  This sparks a more earnest conversation about the fire, which involves the typical deployment of means to attempt to stop the blaze, particularly from reaching Urflasdat, lest the crippling blow to trade become a devastating blow against the Empire, which would quickly approach isolation in its corner of the continent against the mountains, gulf, and a smaller range of mountains and cliffs along the northeast.

  The Fievegal was invoked already, and King Vubenclef asks if they can be relied upon for the crisis.

  “Yes,” replies Sundenelle. “I am confident their Majesties ruling the Fievegal will lend their support if we ask. Sir Larven is capable of telepathy with them…”

  This causes the awkwardness to return, even though a lot of conversation has occurred since. She sighs, “I understand. But, if I send Sir Larven away, I will be vulnerable to the enemies of the Fievegal, who are gathering forces in secret knowing that their enemies include dragons. This trade center is a vital hub to the eastern half of the continent, and if routes can be established, they will be one of the major points of contact with the Fievegal’s economy. If we must discuss confidential matters, we will arrange it such that Sir Larven is absent, but we must focus on Urflasdat for now.”

  “Of course, your Majesty,” agree a few of her more loyal vassals, and the others agree silently to keep going.

  From there, the conversation steers towards seeking an audience with the Fievegal’s rulers, either via summoning them to the Empire’s Imperial Palace, or sending a delegation to the Fievegal itself. Both invite debate, with many of the most cautious loyalists insisting the Empire must maintain its dignity and strength, but others urging humility in a time of crisis. The urgency isn’t there, yet, since it’s just words on paper, effectively. A map doesn’t do justice to the eerily beautiful and ethereal force of nature that threatens to devour the whole world. The Empire doesn’t even know about the Devourer itself, for the most part; a crisis they avoided simply by virtue of the fact that an unknown human at the time in an obscure legendary castle managed to erase it from existence.

  Now, he is one of the most talked-about individuals in the world, both from fear and awe.

  Until the threat is seen, it won’t truly be real for most of these people. And, there’s not enough time to let it become real enough, lest it escape the ability to control it.

  Nesparu whispers to Yaulander, and the Grand Prince, who is respectful, but mostly quiet, nods. He offers, “Your Majesty, I can make a suggestion, but I’ll need a great deal of cooperation from the mages of our vassals.”

  “The Grand Principality’s mage corps can’t handle it, your Majesty?” asks Duke Walliskah, whose formal position is now the Chief Vassal, which makes him slightly higher in Imperial Authority over Yaulander.

  “Many of them are en route to the western frontier,” replies the blond man stoically. Larven cannot deny how impressive his ability to shift through various stages of competency and incompetency, calmness and emotionalism, and simple professionalism to arrogance and back is. Yaulander has more experience than Rikuto, and he has clearly grown up into his late twenties or so playing the ‘game’ that is the aristocratic nuance from various positions of manipulation and power.

  It’s times like this that I wish I had spent more time among human-kin, thinks the dragon. I am woefully useless at picking apart this nuance and the verbal sparring.

  Then, as the preparations for the fire are settled on, the question of great importance comes between Sundenelle and Yaulander.

  “Your Majesty, I’d like to ask you a question in private, if possible.”

  “Grand Prince, of course. Sir Larven will escort us to my office. Let us speak there.”

  “As you wish, your Majesty,” replies Yaulander cooperatively.

  While they don’t say anything on the way there, and Sundenelle asks Larven to remain outside, the way they speak is rather familiar with each other behind closed doors.

  And, of course, she already cast a remote projection spell on Larven’s helmet so that her voice will reach him, even when they use one of the Stalvaltan room silencers.

  “I’d like to know when my servant, Zuzia, is going to be returned.”

  “Ah, yes. It seems that she’s being rather uncooperative with the inquisitor about her decision making process.”

  “What?” asks Yaulander.

  “It seems your order to stick to the investigation was both vague and restrictive enough to force the inquisitor to work around the constraints, and it has gravely increased the time. She also seems quite eager to speak many words to say what five will do.”

  Larven can’t see them, but he can imagine that the Grand Prince is irritated to hear this. From what Zuzia said, she made certain to use his wording against him, such as sleeping on the roof of a stable as part of “in the stable”, due to how it translates to her own language. Many of the common languages on Zenkon, at least on Stoerykame, have a very similar grammatical structure, and many words have distant relationships in terms of how they evolved from a far more ancient root, it seems. Hekate also serves as a sort of “sample” of the relationship between magic translation and languages of Zenkon versus languages of another world.

  Daniel has on more than one occasion tried to speak a threat or insult in the Eastern language, which he had to teach himself for the most part, only for it to have a very different context from what he meant. In reverse, Hekate’s automatic translation of English doesn’t always capture the actual language when she’s listening, so when she tries to speak English, she says strange things.

  Zuzia is exploiting this difference in worldly languages, one of which can’t be “evolved” into the magic of Zenkon. It’s also possible her magic resistance helps with this. Even if the collar can restrain her from harming Yaulander, it may not be strong enough to overcome her ability to twist his words otherwise.

  That’s when Larven, who was waiting and feeling for it, sense that very distinct trickle of magic.

  Telepathy, thinks the dragon to himself.

  Hopefully this works. I’ve never used this method exactly…

  Larven focuses his own telepathic connection on Zuzia as well, but with a slight variation to the spell. Simply “eavesdropping” on telepathy is extremely difficult, and often requires simply connecting to the others in a telepathic call. For anyone skilled and sensitive enough to use telepathy in the first place, it’s stupendously easy to sense someone else connecting, and it’s rather easy to reject their connection, even in a multi-person telepathic conversation.

  While more mana-intensive, Neith discovered a grimoire far across the world during his travels that delved quite heavily into the topics of hypnosis, mind-reading, and telepathy, and there is a blend of those spells that can tap into the more physical side of the brain to observe thoughts, rather than the magic connection of telepathy.

  While it’s certainly not how it literally works, even the author of that grimoire described the process like ‘placing one’s ear against the other person’s skull and hearing the voices as if with that person’s own ears.’

  Zuzia can somewhat tone down her resistance for friendly spells, and she’s prepared for Larven to tap in, but he’s still fighting the massive mana expenditure of the spell coupled with her impressive magic resistances, which even include obscure magic systems that don’t utilize the core elements, over which Larven, or rather Neith, is not a master.

  The dragon focuses and shuts out the world around him briefly, casting the spell. He’ll likely burn through his mana in less than a minute, but he needs to have some idea of what orders are given to Zuzia. If he has to, he needs to try to prevent her from leaving with the Grand Prince, as it’ll become exponentially harder to protect her.

  “{... hours, you are to return to my side whatever it takes. Make excuses, claim illegal detention, or even throw an otherworlder fit. You’re good at that, aren’t you, Rat?}”

  Larven feels irritated hearing Yaulander’s voice, but it does seem to be working. Zuzia doesn’t respond, but because it’s a magic slave collar, she won’t be able to refuse, and she won’t be able to resist for very long.

  Just as he’s about to drop the connection, though, he starts to hear Yaulander’s voice again, and he desperately clings to the connection that he almost let slip away.

  “{Also, Rat, there is a dragon guarding the Empress. If you see him during that time, I order you to feign being assaulted by him if there is an audience and then kill him.}”

  Again, Zuzia remains silent within her own mind, probably afraid that Yaulander will hear if she tries to reassure or warn Larven. She may not even know for certain if he listened in.

  Regardless, the grey dragon knight smirks to himself as he drops the connection to Zuzia’s mind. It’s a slub in his original plan, but it may end up at least making it a little easier to control Zuzia’s forced attention and location.

  You probably could have also killed Morthybargaron with a single strike, Lady Zuzia. But, I have since learned ways I intend to survive my lord’s weapons, if only to protect him and our family from our enemies obtaining them. Punching a stagnant being is much different than fighting someone who can fight back. May the Great Spirits and the Harbinger of Calamity protect us both.

  Larven approaches the door as the conversation with Sundenelle finishes, and Yaulander flinches when he opens the door to leave the room. He scowls briefly at Larven, who stares slightly downward at him in return.

  The Grand Prince slides past to close the door, holding it shut for a moment as he growls in a low tone, “A dragon that serves a powerless human can hardly be called a dragon.”

  “I agree, your Highness,” retorts Larven. He smirks as he replies just as icily as the blond man, “That is why there are no dragons serving you.”

  The Grand Prince’s eye twitches in irritation, but he keeps a lid on his temper. Instead, he finally walks away from the door, saying over his shoulder as he waves, “Give my regards to your brother, Sir Larven. After all, it may be your last chance.”

  Larven watches him depart as the door opens for Sundenelle to exit. She asks, “Sir Larven? Is something wrong?”

  The dragon is quiet for a moment, and he finally looks at her. He replies softly, “Not yet, but I just received a warning.”

  “A warning?”

  “Yes. To give regards to my brother.”

  Sundenelle immediately seems to grasp the implication, even as innocent as the statement can be.

  The dragon confirms quietly without her needing to ask, “You think so, too? It did seem too specific. Though, there should only be a handful of people that actually know I am the only grey dragon.”

  “Do… you think Zuzia told him?”

  “No. I think one of the spies we’ve been trying to root out may have relayed it to his allies.” Larven looks directly into her eyes, adding with a grim finality, “I believe the Grand Prince serves a master beyond the Empire.”

  Sundenelle grits her teeth as she frowns. She has only recently been included in some of the discussions about the primary enemy of the Fievegal, which, if the seemingly-dubious story is to be believed, is some sort of secret organization working in the shadows to not only keep the east and west divided and at war with each other indefinitely, while also supposedly serving some sort of ancient evil god.

  The same ancient evil god that lurks on Daniel and appears at foreboding times.

  Sundenelle gestures for Larven to join her in her office, and the two step inside and close the door. As she’s walking around her desk, she murmurs, “He has always faithfully served the Empire. Even at times when I thought his loyalty was faltering, he always came through.”

  “Their goal isn’t to destroy any one faction,” replies Larven. “Well, maybe the Fievegal, but otherwise, their goal primarily seems to revolve around puppeteering international politics.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Even Daniel doesn’t have a solid reason for ‘why’, he just believes it to be true because there was evidence of similar events on Earth, even if it could never get beyond the veil of being a conspiracy.”

  Sundenelle takes a seat at her desk, trying to wrap her head around Yaulander truly being a traitor. She knew that he wouldn’t take her marriage to Daniel well, and he has played along for now, but the Grand Principality would have likely needed to be shackled somehow to accept the Fievegal’s union with the Empire.

  Larven adds quietly, “The more we dig, the more it seems our strange Emperor may be right. Not on everything, but… There does seem to be a faction actively using all sides to conspire against themselves, ‘keeping the water muddy’, so to speak.”

  “And, in that mud, they can do anything they want… I hate that it makes sense. I just… I want to know what they could possibly want. Is it just to worship or revive some evil god?”

  “That does seem possible. Cults have formed around less.” The dragon steps around to place a hand on her shoulder. “It truly is dangerous to start digging into this issue. If Yaulander is one of them, and he suspects you are close to seeing the truth…”

  “Can the Fievegal win a war against the Empire in its current state?” asks Sundenelle bluntly and out of the blue. It’s so sudden, it catches the dragon off guard, halting his words instantly.

  He gives it thought for a moment before answering.

  We could likely assassinate the right people, including the Grand Prince, but if we miss anyone able to mobilize the military… Could we conquer the Fievegal right now? Or, more to her real point, could we conquer the Grand Principality if they rebel? He threw away a lot of soldiers and mages in his campaign, meaning he likely has the resources to treat them as disposable. He doesn’t seem foolish enough to be that incompetent and callous otherwise.

  “I believe, your Majesty, that the Fievegal could resist any invasion from the full might of the Empire indefinitely. But, unless Daniel would allow the use of his superweapons, I don’t think we would be able to win a typical war of conquest right now. We don’t have the full population of the former Covenant under our flag, and, as you know…”

  She nods. She was present and certainly wouldn’t have missed the fact that the Citadel is dangerously depleted of its mana.

  Larven continues, “We have the firepower to kill individuals with relative ease, but if anyone of sufficient authority escapes and is able to command the military…”

  Sundenelle takes a breath and sighs. “I understand. And, with the Void Artillery, he has a card we don’t yet know how to outplay completely.”

  “If we can find it, I am confident Daniel can deal with it. Until then… There’s one more problem.”

  Sundenelle sighs again, exhaustion already threatening to consume her. She whispers, “When you become my brother-in-law, I hope you will start bringing me good news instead, Sir.”

  The dragon chuckles softly. “I am sorry, your Majesty.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Yaulander did give Lady Zuzia two specific orders via telepathy. One is to return to him via ‘any means necessary’ in a number of hours that I didn’t catch.”

  “And, the other order?” asks Sundenelle as she starts crunching all of the data she’s receiving.

  “If I cross her path, she is to create a reason to ‘defend’ herself from me. Fatally.”

  Sundenelle’s face turns pale, and Larven reassures her, “Don’t worry, my Liege. I know not to give her any square hits against me. Though, I also think I have a plan for how to deal with Yaulander.”

  “If you’re planning to assassinate him…” murmurs Sundenelle.

  “I know. It’ll spark a backlash, and I’ll be the first suspect. However… He just needs his loyal servant ‘Zuzia’, doesn’t he?”

  Sundenelle perks up. She whispers, “An illusion?”

  Larven smirks, though she can’t see it. That said, she’ll likely hear his amusement in his tone. “A mere illusion would never fool him. But, a blessed golem…”

  “Blessed…?” She trails off, and a warm grin spreads across her own face. “I see… Yes. Can you do it?”

  “I will be stuck keeping Zuzia from returning to her own suffering. But, Lady Xyreko…”

  Sundenelle nods. “I don’t want to know anything more.” She stands up, and she starts, “I wonder… No… Replacing me would almost be impossible…”

  “We could have you puppeteer a golem,” replies Larven. “It’s how my Liege and the Empresses met with you before. That said, it seems they are already rather vigilant against you being an imposter.”

  “That should be fine. I do think… it may be wise to cloister myself for now. If I can have a stand-in that is still me in all but physical presence, all the better.”

  Larven nods. “I’ll inform the others so they send someone to swap you out. Once I engage in delaying Lady Zuzia, I may be locked in battle with her until she can be imprisoned or otherwise freed.”

  Sundenelle nods. “Tell them to hurry then. In the meantime, we’ll go explain the plan to Zuzia herself.”

  Larven agrees readily, since they will need to move quickly.

  There are times the grey dragon does wonder why he juggles so many responsibilities that he could easily fly away from; his very human Emperor, the Stalvaltan Grand Duchess, the boruan woman who is now his fiancee, and the problems of the Grand Zenkon Empire.

  No… I know the reason, thinks the dragon with a soft smile as he ponders the faces of the people in question, as long as one that he hoped to be able to save with even a suicidal mutual destruction of their shared enemy.

  ‘Onii-chan, you fool!’

  I am a fool, my dear sister. But, I am a proud fool content to keep you surrounded by people who love you. And, soon enough, I’ll be a proud fool of a father and an uncle.

  With resolve swelling in his heart, the first Jomsviking and brother to the Emperor holds his head high in preparation for his multi-faceted legerdemain of a battle.

  ***