Rikuto is hit by the seismic wave through the earth, the leading edge of a geological event. A deep, continuous shaking continues afterwards, but it pales in comparison to the initial impact wave that swept across the land.

And, around that same time, a whole mess of bodies appeared from thin air, falling with a collective cry that was partially drowned out by the rumbling shake of the surface of Zenkon, as well as the sharper rumbling ‘boom’ in the air from the shockwave of the impact.

When it all settles, there is some flickering light from the mana fire, as if it just had gasoline sprayed on it for a moment. Zuzia’s throw must have fallen just short of the mana fire itself, which could still be hundreds of meters of distance, meaning it could be a couple hours before the false-inferno reaches the remains. Thankfully, it does seem to have been enough to stop the monstrous enemy dragon, reducing their current problems at least a little and giving them some breathing room.

That’s when an object falls from the sky and hits the ground with a rather unceremonious thud. It’s about twenty meters from Rikuto, and the shape is odd.

But, of course it’s odd.

It’s not just an object. It’s a person, who fell from higher above the others. Though small comparatively, the body volume is almost doubled by a large black tail, with two easily recognizable ears protruding from her head.

Hekate!?

Rikuto knows that he’s surrounded by injured soldiers and knights, most of whom belong to the Kingdom of Mornistae. But, Hekate fits into a niche of her own. Formally, she is an Empress of a powerful rival nation, though Rikuto isn’t truly deluded enough to believe Mornistae actually could rival the Fievegal in the grand scheme of things.

But, more directly, in person, Hekate is a self-contained superweapon and mana reactor. She was rather easily learning the spell Rikuto used to hold back the black and white flames, which is surprising for how innocent and naive she can be. In spite of her foolishness and immaturity in terms of diplomatic functions, she works hard and practices diligently when it is something she can dedicate herself to directly.

They’ll likely need her to stop the mana fire if they hope to avoid the last resort.

That all said, there is one more thing about Hekate that Rikuto can’t ignore.

Right now, she’s unconscious.

He glances around briefly. Everyone is in various states of chaos as they try to figure out what just happened. Sundenelle and Aramellianna have started rallying triage support for the new arrivals. No one is paying attention.

Rikuto jogs to the black-haired girl. His first concern is determining if she’s alive, since she’s still needed for now, and the Fievegal won’t vanish with Hekate alone.

There is blood around her ears, but considering how high she fell from, the fact that her bones aren’t shattered is about what Rikuto would expect. He doesn’t know how she’s so powerful in such a small body, but Zuzia is similarly “just” a human, but she threw a near-literal kaiju through the air.

Rikuto does a few quick checks on Hekate’s arms and head. She doesn’t seem ‘squishy’, though Rikuto knows very little about first aid, let alone how to identify if anything is actually broken, but his gut tells him she’s probably very close to fine, especially since she appears to be breathing.

And, that’s when a dark thought crosses Rikuto’s mind.

I could… try to at least put a safeguard, couldn’t I? Not full control. Just something…

Rikuto places his palm on Hekate’s forehead, focusing on exactly what he wants to “program” into his subtle command.

However, the moment he starts to apply the actual magic behind his hidden ability…

Rikuto feels a deep pounding in his heart that jolts through his whole body. The world fades away, and the young Japanese man feels like he is being swallowed by absolute darkness.

Or rather, it feels more akin to absolute evil.

Suddenly, the darkness condenses down on one point in a featureless void that is neither too dark to see nor bright enough to see well. A large red dragon is briefly visible in the gloomy abyss, but his body is torn up and oozing some sort of black substance that glows faintly.

As if flowing into the dragon like a stream, a sinister dark violet mana draws Rikuto to the only thing worth seeing.

A titan that makes the dragon, as well as the even larger dragon Zuzia just incapacitated, gazes down on the otherworlder king with an intense stare that feels palpable. Though it has six eyes, Rikuto all but feels them as one, imprisoning him like a tiny figurine inside of a marble. Absolute dread grips his heart and soul, and he is speechless.

“Another human?” booms an all-encompassing chorus of voices layered into one. The speech has a primarily female-sounding tenor, and it sounds distant and close at the same time. “And, a particularly reckless one.”

Rikuto can say nothing. He can hardly think. A part of his mind is terrified that it’s some sort of demon possessing Hekate, lurking deep within her subconscious, like a living embodiment of the fantasies of the stereotypical eighth graders defining the term “chuunibyou”.

Except, in Hekate’s case, it appears to not be a fantasy.

“I sense the divine touch upon you,” remarks the creature. “But, if you touch things that are not meant to be touched…”

Rikuto can feel a stroke across his cheek, and he nearly faints from fear. He can feel every muscle in his body trembling. He is completely at this being’s mercy.

Suddenly, a strike hits his chest, and he coughs as he is sent backwards a little over a meter across the ground. It isn’t lethal, but it’s extremely painful, and he finds himself back in the real world in an instant. His heart is pounding, his breathing is absolutely frantic, and he can feel the coldness of sweat while his very vision itself continues to shake. He can only stare at Hekate, the unconscious little girl who is somehow being guarded by a terrible creature. He feels like the creature said something at the very end, but like a dream, it has already slipped away like a puff of mist in the wind.

Rikuto was afraid when he realized Daniel used nuclear weapons in this world. But, that was a mere jumpscare to a corny movie compared to the absolute terror he feels now.

He has never been so afraid in his life.

The only thing that snaps him out of this fearful trance is a male voice calling out, “Hekate!”

Daniel appears suddenly, dropping to his knees as his metal helmet clatters by, discarded in a hurry for first aid. The American quickly rolls the fox-eared kemonomimi girl onto her back and tilts her chin back. He lowers his cheek down in front of her mouth and nose, watching her chest, which does seem to rise and fall.

“D-Daniel?” croaks out Rikuto.

The American ignores him, focused wholly on verifying that Hekate is still alive. He presses his ear to her chest while keeping fingers on her neck. With that, he lets out a sigh. “Thank goodness, you little idiot…” Daniel manages a soft smile, and he looks at Rikuto. “Rikuto, you alright? Did she land on you or something?”

The sincerity of the question restores the rest of Rikuto’s senses, at least for the most part. He swallows what feels like a bowling ball in his throat. “I… Is… Hekate… Is there… anything…?” Rikuto isn’t sure how to word it. He feels the sort of terror often associated with terrible things, like speaking its name would speak it into existence. He is realizing day after day now, it seems, that he knows far too little about magic in the grand scheme of things.

Eventually, his resolve to address it fizzles away, and Daniel fills in the gaps with his own assumption. “Are you asking if there’s anything wrong? No, it looks like she’ll be alright. I’ll have a healer check her. Are you alright?”

Rikuto nods, exhaling as he gives up on trying to ask about the creature. There’s a bigger problem at present, and he imagines anyone who hears the description will think he’s crazy.

He has seen what he believes to have been the Strylak with his own eyes, and it would be impossible to truly describe it properly in a way that could truly convey its immense size. Even many denizens of Zenkon generally consider the kraken-like monster to be a sort of legend, generally regarding it with some skepticism or passing acknowledgement as something far beyond their actual day to day concerns. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

“I’m fine, thanks,” replies Rikuto. He climbs to his feet as Daniel lifts Hekate to carry her.

“I’ve already accounted for my men, so see if you can finish a head count and determine if anyone’s still stranded at the front.”

“Right,” replies Rikuto. The return to task is reassuring, but he can’t help but glance at Hekate, who is unconscious in Daniel’s arms.

What are you people hiding?

With that the two go separate ways. The triage area is already crowded with healers scrambling to do their work.

But, the Fievegal’s Empress will naturally take priority, and as such, one or more of the Fievegal’s healers will likely turn their attention to Hekate to ensure she recovers.

Lesson learned, thinks Rikuto to himself. I shouldn’t bother gambling on this ability with them anymore.

***

Ryuogriar catches her breath calmly as smoke smolders in her precious haven. The berserker has finally stopped regenerating, leaving behind the body of the Keeper who turned. Fal seems to have exhausted himself, and though Ryuogriar feels like she aged another five hundred years in the process, she managed to avoid any further adverse effects on herself.

And, thankfully, everyone else managed to evacuate in time.

Emerald is currently checking the body of the Keeper for signs of life, and she looks absolutely ragged as well. Because of the contract, she couldn’t actively harm the Keeper, because the contract for the majority of the dragons that Hekate didn’t or couldn’t vouch for was even more restrictive in order to protect Daniel and anyone else he foresaw coming into their lives, but not being covered by the contract by name in such a scenario. This does inconvenience the dragons, which is why many of the ones who dislike Daniel still remained at the Citadel, where their inability to defend themselves would still allow them to be safe.

For a long time, Ryuogriar has disliked Emerald, since she refused to cooperate, refused to help, and spit on Daniel’s offer to restore her fertility. That is, she was vehemently against it until Samael, Willow, Clover, Enya, and Gyualen all hatched safely.

But, more than once, Emerald put herself between Ryuogriar and the berserker to block retaliatory attacks while the matriarch was recovering her breath. Breathing fire is relatively easy for a dragon, but it can start to tax them if it’s a long stream of rapid attacks, like she was forced to do in order to keep the collateral destruction minimal, avoid harming Fal with the heat, and keep from suffocating herself in the enclosed room, which is more of a factor towards her winded state now. The air is thin, and though Fal should be alright, the temperature of the large space has skyrocketed.

Ryuogriar sighs and sinks to her knees, finally able to relax. “Xyreko, please send in people for damage control… The temperature is very high…”

The dragon can hear the sounds of the doors being cut into by some kinds of tools, which she realizes were already occurring before she asked. It seems the heat has warped the doorways and jammed them shut.

“The woman is alive,” remarks Emerald wearily. “But, I have no way of knowing if she’s ‘cured’.”

“We’ll have her isolated for now until we can learn more.” The green dragon approaches to check on Ryuogriar and Fal.

The tiny feldrok prince is sleeping rather peacefully in her arms.

“How can something so tiny cause so much trouble?” asks the green dragon as she sinks down to the floor as well. She ends up on her back, trying to rest while they wait on the golems to free them, as well as news of the mana-fire and the being Ryuogriar can only pray is defeated by the others.

“It seems his unfortunate state of being truly does extend far into the past…” She pets his head gently, trying not to be the least bit angry at him. “A child trapped in a state of absorbing power, but unable to grow…”

“We can’t let this keep happening…” murmurs Emerald.

“I know. But, there is little we can do right now…”

“Could… I don’t know… Could we… hold him near one of the donation altars? Activate it if he goes berskerk?”

“We?” asks Ryuogriar skeptically.

Emerald nods. “I can’t harm him with the contract, so you don’t have to worry about that part.”

“I’m more surprised that you’re willing to help,” points out the platinum matron.

Emerald looks to the side. “I know you think this was all for show, but…”

“I don’t think that. For once, I do feel like you are being genuine. You have been since the hatching. The problem is… how long will that last?”

Emerald nods solemnly. Trust can go a long way for anyone, but none more so than dragons. Their numbers are far too few now to risk untrustworthy beings. Morthybargaron trusted his own iron grip over the rest of the dragons more than the individuals themselves, especially since he couldn’t afford to cull anyone other than those who actively tried to betray him. Because Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and Jeavana were completely –and regrettably– passive during his reign towards him, he left them alone once it was certain that the only way to undo the curse would be conquering the Citadel; something Morthybargaron likely knew had become the case and kept to himself, explaining his recklessness towards dragging all of the dragons to the Citadel the day that “Hekate” conquered the defunct fortress.

Fortunately, he ended up being correct. Dragging all of the dragons to the Citadel was the best thing Morthybargaron ever did for the dragons of Stoerykame.

“I’ll… speak my true name…” whispers Emerald. “I will speak it so Xyreko and Daniel will have it… So that, at any time…” She trails off.

For dragons and other powerful magic users, a name can wield a tremendous amount of power over their souls through magic. Ryuogriar has never known for certain how it works, but there are legends amongst the long-lived reptilians that a population of dragons was driven to near-extinction even compared to those of Stoerykame because of them freely giving out their true names, believing no other races could pronounce them.

It should be impossible for Daniel to speak a dragon’s true name, but if he manages it from even a “close enough” standpoint, he could truly enslave them down to their every last thought, curse them with unending suffering and pain for every waking moment, and even take away their ability to die as an escape.

But, of course, as Emerald has just demonstrated, even the most spiteful towards him know that Daniel doesn’t have it in him to be cruel the way Morthybargaron was. He is far from perfect, and he makes plenty of mistakes. Even now, he is brushing up against his promise to be completely safe, and his pledge to marry Ryuogriar and the others in order to “give himself something to live for”. But, because she doesn’t want to become a shackle to him, but instead, something so important to him that he values life above all else, Ryuogriar is cautious about avoiding the risk of demanding his imprisonment, effectively, if it would stifle who he is.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The reckless soul who freed the dragons from centuries of silent torment.

“You will speak it in the presence of all of the Empresses of the Fievegal, as well as Princess Arachne,” replies Ryuogriar sternly. “You will trust all of us, or benefit from none of us.”

Emerald is hesitant, since the dragons rarely share their true names even amongst each other.

But, she finally agrees. “A-Alright… I just… If… something happens…”

The platinum dragon knows exactly what she is afraid of, and she takes a breath and sighs. “I know. If any of them are harboring thoughts of betraying you, while not actually betraying us, then it puts you in grave danger. But…” Ryuogriar narrows her eyes, growling, “You will not be the only one in grave danger if your contract is removed, now, will you?”

Again, Emerald is quiet. It’s true. The only thing stopping Ryuogriar from killing Daniel and becoming the master of the Citadel, in truth, is Ryuogriar. The same goes for all of the dragons Daniel has already stripped of the contract. Neith could easily defeat Daniel –or merely let him die in his own reckless endeavors–, and the grey dragon could almost certainly reorganize the dragons into his own harem.

The reason they don’t is because Daniel doesn’t represent a ruler humiliating the dragons because he is a tiny, weak human in charge of them. He represents a passionate march towards a better future. A future where dragons aren’t feared, but loved. A future where the dragon children will be surrounded by friends and family. A future where freedom is a right of the many, not just the few. If Jeavana wants to leave for parts unknown tomorrow, no one would chase her down and stop her. If Ryuogriar decided to leave the Citadel to forge her own community and culture, Daniel would be sad, but would allow her to go without a fight. If Hekate wanted to go on a rampage and kill all of the enemies of the Fievegal, Daniel would urge against it, but he would ensure Hekate is safe and succeeds.

He has lines, but those lines align with protecting his family and letting them be free. He isn’t stupid enough to simply free every dragon just because he believes in freedom, but he isn’t interested in keeping them subjugated and lording over them as if they are nothing more than his weapons.

Ryuogriar lets out a long breath of exasperation. “You understand that you will not get another chance, yes? If you betray us, we go back to the traditional ways. You and your offspring will be hunted and exterminated. You will be free, but that freedom does not come with the right to kill anyone we care about.”

“I-I understand, your Grace,” replies Emerald, starting to show a slight bit of hope in her eyes.

“I’m serious. I will personally devour your children in front of you…”

“I won’t. I-... I accept… that we are no longer the masters of the world Morthybargaron liked to pretend we were. I just… I want a chance… to be free…”

“You of all people should work harder than ever to serve the Fievegal,” retorts Ryuogriar. “But, I am not so foolish as to fail to recognize your efforts today. Thank you… for your help.”

Emerald smiles softly. There’s a peaceful moment between them as the door is being ripped away. And then, Emerald says softly, “You know, his room smells even worse when it’s on fire.”

Ryuogriar gives her a light scowl, and the green dragon replies a little bashfully, “Sorry… Bad joke, I guess…”

The first Dragon Empress sighs as she hugs Fal. “From you, it’s hard to tell…”

“I-I’ll… I’ll work on it, your Grace. I promise.”

Daniel’s room lies in ruins now, and the Keeper who turned still poses a threat. It’s unclear what Fal’s power does, but it clearly poses a danger to everyone.

That said, if Fal can be given a chance to harness his power, he could be another powerful sorcerer in the Fievegal.

Even more than that if he can be raised to be a member of their family.

***

One thing above all others was forbidden for Doephluev when the mission to stop the mana fire was started.

She must not endanger her children. She couldn’t join Daniel and the others in the battle against the mana fire, and she has been instructed to avoid the Citadel’s core where a portal is open to the airship, and in a worst case scenario, enemies in the form of monsters could make their way through.

But, she does not have to be idle. Shek and Skloe handle most internal affairs with the citizens, as well as matters of immigration, since a good ‘go, no-go test’, as Daniel calls it, is to see how newcomers react to high ranking members of the Fievegal being goblins. Ryuogriar is handling the Citadel’s administration while Reignleif and Geirahoel mostly manage the children and the prisoners of the recent siege force. Gwenesphia has permission to help with logistics through the portal because she isn’t as hampered by her early pregnancy as Doephluev has become, and her brothers and sister are looking after her and the Citadel on behalf of the Honeydip family.

What all of that also means, though, is that everyone else is currently distracted with trying to keep up with Daniel and the mana fire, dealing with Djihnlierr’s attacking force, who are prisoners for now, and making sure the Citadel remains secure in Daniel’s absence, since there’s an ever-growing chance of infiltrators that manage to slip by everyone’s notice.

Of course, one of the most highly trained infiltrators in the world is the one currently untasked with anything important among the Empresses of the Fievegal.

She approaches her destination in the prison corridor. Not all of the prisoners require an elite guard, because most of them will never possess the ability, keenness of perception, or cunning required to escape the prison cells of the Citadel, which were designed originally to hold prisoners of the feldroks, and have since been modified by an otherworlder who has pioneered anti-magic technology to hold powerful mages within.

The cell Doephluev is approaching has four Stalvaltan Guardsmen stationed to ensure that the prisoner inside, an infiltrator whose cover was blown when she was lured into trying to ambush Daniel, is securely prevented from being approached by anyone who might try to assist her in escaping.

“Very good work gentlemen,” calls out Doephluev as she’s approaching. All four Stalvaltan Guards, which includes the rare female shenwulf warrior among their group. Of course, Doephluev is heavily pregnant at present, so she’s not exactly equipped to seduce her way in, were that her goal.

“Your Grace?” asks a human male. “Do you have business here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. The four of you may take a break. Let’s go with thirty minutes.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, your Grace,” retorts the man politely. “If your business is with Prisoner Thymeria, then…”

“I’m not telling you to abandon your post completely,” replies Doephluev gently. “But, I am telling you to surrender it to me for the next thirty minutes.”

“Your Grace…”

“I know it’s fairly common knowledge, at least through rumors who I am and what I was before I became Daniel’s lover,” starts Doephluev, cutting off the soldier as the four gather together to try to passively block her path. “Did I mention being Daniel’s lover? He pities me more than anything. Though he mercifully had amnesia magic cast on me so I would forget, he still harbors guilt for his response to my… meeting him.” She approaches to within a single step of the human man who seems to be the senior Guardsmen on watch. “That pity and guilt deepens his dependence on my affection. So, when I arrive, beaten and with his children in danger of death, I wonder whose version of events he’ll believe; four loyal guards, or one me.” She scowls at the Guardsmen, who is visibly horrified by her threat.

“Y-... You wouldn’t dare…” whispers the gentleman.

“Wouldn’t I? Daniel is the one who isn’t used to high society and the cloak and dagger of royal courts. Before I was an Empress of the Fievegal and mother to the heirs-to-be, I was, indeed, an assassin. A very good one.”

The shenwulf woman places her hand on her bladed morningstar slung across the small of her back, which undoubtedly doubles as her magic ‘staff’ or ‘wand’. While all four are carrying firearms, many warriors of Zenkon will tend to default to their most comfortable. And, regardless, while firearms are powerful, there will always be a special place in combat for magic, especially depending on what spells she can cast.

In her assassin days, Doephluev would have to rely on her meticulously-prepared subdermal implants, her tattoos, and her own mana reserves if she were to try to ambush four armed battle mages on watch, especially if her only option was to approach from the front.

But, whether anyone likes it or not, she is currently one of the most powerful people in the world because, primarily, of who she has given her body to. Though Daniel doesn’t necessarily see it that, she is under no illusions that her primary agency within the Fievegal is as Daniel’s enemy-turned-lover. Few truly respect her as an Empress save for the attitude she must wield like a cudgel and Daniel’s name, since the other Empresses would see her kicked out if it were solely up to them.

It’s also no secret that she’s not truly an “Empress” other than she speaks the word, and Daniel doesn’t refute, while Hekate foolishly loses the title to the archoneldwyn on a regular basis, while the others more prudently trade the title temporarily for favors.

“You’ve seen how Daniel treats Tekten and Jieka, have you not?” asks Doephluev, turning her eyes to the shenwulf woman. “Do you honestly believe you can harm me in any capacity and expect to live? Grand Duchess Aramellianna already has a metaphorical black eye due to that maid. What was her name? Veuthene?”

The guards all twitch, mostly in their expressions. Aramellianna is honest with the Stalvaltan Guards. She believes that they are, especially collectively, more powerful than she is, but their loyalty stems from what the house and name of Stalvaltan represents, not just the might of the Guards. As such, she has been honest about the blunder that slipped through every crack of her ranks to reach Daniel, such that he has since been cursed by an object in Veuthene’s protection.

The curse should have killed him outright, but if Yaulwembor is to be believed, it is acting as a low-power siphon of mana, leaching magical energy through Daniel to its true wielder, the eldritch lurker hidden deep in some unknown void, but able to influence the real world through her thralls, her spells, and her fearsome, nightmarish presence. He survived by the sheer luck of circumstance; his pitiful mana at the time wasn’t enough for his body to be dependent on its existence, meaning he is one of the only, if not the only, beings in the world that can truly be depleted of mana and live to tell about it. Even Daniel’s “anti-magic ores” don’t negate the core mana of a person, just the majority that they use for spells and other abilities.

So, the Stalvaltan Guardsmen are reasonably conflicted with her threat. She knows she’s “untouchable”. If they harm her right now, they risk harming the Emperor’s children and potential heirs to the Fievegal. She hasn’t attacked anyone or come under tangible suspicion for treason since the initial attack during the siege of the Citadel, and she has since worked her way tediously into Daniel’s ear.

“What will it be, gentlemen?” asks Doephluev with a quaint smile as she folds her hands over her belly.

The human leader holds his hand up, which causes the others to relax. They are all disgusted and worried, but picking a fight with Doephluev now is a losing prospect. Since Xyreko hasn’t confronted her already, it may be that the golem caretaker is too distracted with everything else going on.

“I’ll be required to file a formal report, your Grace,” replies the human watch leader in a last-ditch effort to deter the archoneldwyn rogue Empress.

“Indeed,” replies the pseudo-elf as she steps between the group. They part reluctantly, and she adds as she reaches the door itself. “Oh, and if you attempt to imprison me within out of some misplaced sense of heroism, I assure you that it will not be me occupying a cell for the next twenty years or more. Food for thought.” She opens the door and steps inside, watching with a wicked smirk until the group of four finally glances at each other and retreats up the hallway.

Doephluev crouches at the door and places a wedge in front of the door, ensuring that it won’t close so easily behind her once she’s inside the cell.

From there, she takes a breath.

Those fools wasted a ton of time. I should have knocked them unconscious.

She then places two more devices on opposing walls of the interlocking chamber before opening the inner cell door.

There, sitting against the far wall is exactly the person Doephluev wanted to see.

“Good morning, Thymeria,” states the archoneldwyn with a predatory tone.

The Uhl’tall mendicant looks up from her near lifeless trance of staring at the floor. Her books were taken away, and she has been fairly isolated other than meals. Isolation is surprisingly more effective than a person would realize, since it’s extremely easy to lose track of real time. In Doephluev’s case, the lights were left on indefinitely, and she had no interaction with a living person until Ryuogriar arrived to offer the “Racial Preservation Program”, the archoneldwyn’s ticket into the upper ranks. For Thymeria, she’s not outright being tortured right now thanks to Vaergraes and Illianna, whether the mendicant realizes it or not.

“What do you want?” murmurs the dejected infiltrator. It seems she has taken Vaergraes’s disownment of her more genuinely than she should have in her role, since she was ready to assassinate Vaergraes to cover her own trail.

“Just to talk,” replies Doephluev as she takes a seat on the simplistic bed to ease her increasing weight off of her knees. Given that both doors are wide open, she is all but daring Thymeria to try to make an escape.

But, of course, she’ll want to hear what Doephluev has to say.

“Your blunder has made a real mess of things. Suspicions are higher than ever, now, making it impossible for me to get anything done.”

“You must think me a fool,” whispers Thymeria. “I won’t tell you anything until Vae comes back.”

“Hmm. That’s fine. I suppose you’ll remain mute indefinitely, then.”

The Uhl’tall is irritated, but she’s far from believing anything the former-assassin says.

But, that much is expected, since Doephluev hasn’t said anything of substance yet.

“Between you and that foolish boy, the chaos has at least made Daniel reckless, so I suppose it’s not all lost. That said, the Fellmother is quite displeased with the both of you for going off-script and putting these Fievegal upstarts on even higher guard.”

“You’ve gotten rusty from your days as an assassin, Doephluev,” taunts Thymeria with a scowl. “If you’re going to try to fool someone, you should at least try to be convincing.”

“Convincing, is it?” asks Doephluev with a smile, her hand supporting her cheek deviously with her ring and pinky finger folded down in front of her mouth. “This is why the Fellmother has lost faith in the friar of the water and the friar of the fire.”

This causes a momentary twitch in the otherwise defiant young priestess. She quickly recovers her composure, asking as facetiously as she can, “Fine, then. I’ll play along. What is a ‘Fellmother’ supposed to be?”

Doephluev lets out an amused laugh, snickering jovially at this question. This perturbs Thymeria, who continues to glare at her while the archoneldwyn enjoys the moment.

Finally, Doephluev lets out a relaxed sigh as she leans back onto her hands behind her on the bed. “Of course you wouldn’t know… What is it you idiots call her? Ah, yes, ‘the Great One’, is it?”

The facade is starting to crumble. Thymeria has withheld a massive amount of information about the organization she serves, and only some of it has been revealed by other means. Ochibenara was extremely low ranking, but she was familiar with the friar himself, though she knows next to nothing about who he is outside of being the friar. From the sounds of it, he is a noble, but from where exactly is unknown.

But, Doephluev knows all too well that such a high degree of anonymity also means disposability, in many cases.

“Was that a little more familiar?” asks Doephluev with a predatory smirk. “Indeed, she does withhold the many truths of herself from the low-rankers.”

The irritation displaces the momentary horror, and Thymeria challenges quietly, “Who do you serve, then? Ground? Air?”

The archoneldwyn cocks her head casually with amusement still spread across her lips. “Do you genuinely believe me to be a low-ranker like you?” She stands up and stalks in a partial circle around the room. “I serve the Fellmother. No one else.”

“You’re Daniel’s slave,” retorts the Uhl’tall prisoner. She hasn’t taken the bait when Doephluev’s back is turned, but she is getting more worked up by the conversation. “If you are ordered to take him to your friar…”

“A separate silent curse will activate, killing me instantly. Same as you.” Doephluev looks over her shoulder during her half-circle walk, staring directly at Thymeria. Again, the young mendicant is speechless.

“I came here to give you another chance to serve the Fellmother and redeem your blunder,” states the archoneldwyn quietly. “The Fellmother will descend on this world once more, and when she does, you do not want to be her enemy.” Doephluev approaches in a suspensefully slow walk towards Thymeria, and when she’s leaning over the Uhl’tall, she adds at barely above a whisper, “Death will not save you or your sister from the fourteen tails of the Divine Fellmother.”

Thymeria is visibly rattled. Fourteen isn’t just an unlucky number on Zenkon. It truly is the number of tails possessed by the eldritch goddess residing in the void. She doesn’t want to believe Doephluev, but the former-assassin spoke with absolute conviction and with language familiar to the former-priestess. She knows she was ensnared in an enigmatic, cutthroat, and compartmentalized organization.

Thymeria and Vaergraes are both completely disposable.

And, as Morthybargaron proved, the ‘Fellmother’, ‘Lurker’, or ‘Void Demon’ as she can be known has dominion even over the dead. Anyone who tries to escape her gaze will still be her thralls beyond the grave.

If Thymeria actually does care about herself, or more importantly, Vaergraes, then she will be hesitant to resist Doephluev. After all, she essentially can’t afford to refuse, since the Archoneldwyn didn’t question her.

“If you accept,” states Doephluev with a gentle stroke of Thymeria’s cheek. She then starts walking for the door, “When the time is right, you will ensnare the attention of Daniel, Vaergraes, and Xyreko. I’ll explain more the next time I visit. Take care, Thymeria. And, be careful to keep it hidden.” Doephluev nods towards the bed, exiting through the inner door and closing it behind herself. Thymeria investigates after a moment of hesitation, finding the small book Doephluev left behind.

The Archoneldwyn smirks as she sees this from the inner door, and she ensures the door is locked before carefully collecting her tangle-wire trap across the interlock chamber, and she removes her wedge from the outer door. Once she steps out into the hall, she flinches.

She is staring down two rifle barrels and two spell-charged morningstar ‘wands’. The Stalvaltan Guards are near the end of the hallway as promised, but they didn’t let their guard down.

“Stand fast and accept dispel or be shot.”

Doephluev sighs, putting her hands up. “So be it. Make it quick.”

She knows they’re worried about illusion magic, specifically. Thankfully, the Stalvaltan regiment’s arsenal of “dispelling” incantations are actually harmless compared to Daniel’s “anti-magic materials”, which he has urged anyone pregnant to avoid entirely. He is fairly confident that the mana a person possesses “absorbs” the radiation, effectively shielding a person from the harmful effects his world knew, but he doesn’t want to take that chance with unborn children anymore.

She accomplished what she came to do for this moment, since it’s one of the few times she would be able to plant the seed and place her plan into motion.

She’ll be interrogated a bit, but she’s not worried about it. Daniel will protect her, and she’ll be one step closer to her real goal.

All she needs to do now is be patient.

***