novelraw Chapter 251: The Lurking Threat of Treason Amidst Chaos
Chapter 251: The Lurking Threat of Treason Amidst Chaos
“What is the progress, Count?” asks the cold, unfeeling voice of his new master.
Count Sharnach kos Baumalde, formerly of Mornistae, was brought into the Empire by Grand Prince Yaulander for his efforts building the unprecedented weapon that halted the Fievegal’s invasion at Fort Twilight, in spite of the posturing they demonstrated at the Peace Conference.
That said, Yaulander, for his relative youth in his thirties, carries a serious air when it comes down to military operations and business, a side of himself he doesn’t go out of his way to show the Empress herself. With him are his loyal aide Nesparu pel Contarro and the otherworlder slave Zuzia Spolskia.
Nesparu is less arrogant now that Serrentuk has been slain, and he seems almost desperate to cling to Yaulander’s coat tails to ensure he isn’t left out in the cold. Yaulander is more ruthless than Sundenelle by far, but he’s much more cautious about which moves he’ll make when it comes to the Empire.
As for Zuzia, she is wearing her “proper” attire, according to Yaulander, which consists of little more than a few rags bound together just enough to hide her most scandalous areas. Her body, for all of its purported durability, is covered in bruises and filth; all of it providing testament to the effort Yaulander has been putting in to break her will. It seems he has been largely successful, as she seems like she’s almost not there at all, similar to the elven sorcerer that was bound in service to Nesparu’s bloodline until extremely recently.
Sharnach rises and bows, greeting Yaulander to buy himself a moment to think. “Your Imperial Majesty, I, Sharnach kos Baumalde, humbly greet you.” He then bows to Nesparu, adding, “Good day, my Lord.”
“My Lord,” replies Nesparu with minimal interest.
Sharnach faces Yaulander again, saying as confidently as he can, “I have the assistants you lent me checking with traders in town, your Majesty, as there are some materials that I haven’t yet been able to source. Depending on what alloys are available, I may have to adjust the design of the artillery’s primary spell actuation armatures.”
Yaulander’s face doesn’t shift at all. He simply studies the count. Sharnach keeps his composure, but the urge to swallow his saliva out of nervousness becomes more and more pressing. There was supposed to be virtually no chance of needing more void artilleries, and Sharnach was hoping to make contact with the ancient elven sorcerer known as Senn if he ever needed to make another one. But, he needed to make sure the accomplishment was cemented as his before he made any further moves on “improving” the design.
His own vassal is still searching for Senn, but it seems the elf has vanished from the coastal hideaway he had resided in for the last few decades.
“Rat…” is the singular word Yaulander finally says.
Without any other information, and no warning for Sharnach, Zuzia in her ragged slave clothing walks straight towards the Count, and he retreats a step instinctively, asking urgently, “Wh-What are you doing!? Slave! Stay back!”
Zuzia doesn’t listen, and she instantly snaps her hand up. Count Sharnach kos Baumalde is slammed by the sensation of being choked and lifted by his neck. In his panic, he wraps his hands around Zuzia’s wrist and tries to pry her fingers away, but her grip doesn’t even budge. Sharnach can feel his feet kicking in futility above the ground, trying to find purchase on any surface possible.
“Please… Progress… is slow… Equipment… parts… missing…”
Yaulander is silent for another long moment as Count Baumalde struggles helplessly, doing everything he can for tiny sips of air through desperate gasps when he manages to shift his own weight in Zuzia’s grip.
Finally, the Grand Prince continues, “Do you know why I spent so much time, sacrificed so many soldiers, and wasted so many resources on capturing one pathetic rat, Count Baumalde?”
Sharnach tries to look at him urgently, knowing that he’s completely at the blond man’s mercy and whims.
“Because, her strength will be useful to me. I thought you would be useful to me, which is why I accepted extracting you from Mornistae, in spite of the immense personal and political danger it places myself and the Grand Principality in aiding and abetting treason.”
“I… can build it… your Majesty…” chokes out Sharnach. He gasps in a breath with all of his strength, feeling his blood pressure weaken. “I just… need more…”
“I have not come here to ask why a void artillery hasn’t been built, Count Baumalde,” retorts the Grand Prince. He gestures with his hand, “Release him, Rat.”
Zuzia instantly drops Sharnach, and he flops to his hands and knees on the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. The otherworlder warrior then walks a couple paces away, having a rigid and unenthusiastic posture. Yaulander then adds, “I came to find out why there isn’t a completed blueprint, yet. If parts and materials need to be acquired, it will be no matter when I have a list of parts before me. I don’t care about the cost, and their acquisition difficulty is inconsequential. The gaze of the Fievegal and the Empress are both pulled completely away from anything we could be doing right now. But, I am stuck coming all the way to your villa to only be leaving with one thing.” Yaulander crouches in front of the still-coughing count. “Do you know what that one thing is, Count Sharnach kos Baumalde?”
Sharnach struggles just to swallow the lump that feels like it’s forming alongside the pain from being choked. “Y-Your Majesty…” rasps out the gentleman.
“Nesparu, do you know?”
“With my limited wisdom, your Majesty, I would guess and only guess that you have only obtained a single question.”
“Indeed,” replies the Grand Prince. “That question being:…” He turns a very cold gaze that nearly stops Sharnach’s heart. “Is Count Sharnach kos Baumalde truly the man who built the devices?”
The aged Count can feel the color draining the rest of the way out of his face. “Y-Yes, of course… Y-Your Majesty. It’s just that… much of the original build was… a bit prototypical, and thus, it was built and tested in various stages…”
“Your allegedly sloppy work practices are none of my concern. Results are.”
“Your Majesty, if I could simply be allowed to examine the surviving device, I’m sure I could…”
“If I merely wanted to wait for the deconstruction and divination of a captured device, I have an army of Magic Artisans and artificers to do so.” He stands up and starts for the door with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll give you one more week. If you can produce at least the magic formula that is used for the artillery, then I can overlook these pitiful delays. If you don’t, you may wish to find alternative living arrangements. Good luck and good day, Count Baumalde.”
The two leave, and Sharnach is left in absolute terror. He knows he backed himself into a corner at this point, but he refuses to admit a lowly goblin somehow surpassed him when the Stalvaltan brat was finally usurped of her position.
Damn it! I can’t remember the exact sequence for the formula… But, if I can find the book that goblin learned it from…
Sharnach slams his fist on the polished stone floor.
Stay calm, Sharnach… If I bide my time well, that brat Prince will be the one cornered by his own ambitions. Yes. I just need the formula to start with, and I’ll go from there.
Count Baumalde rises to his feet and summons his servants. It’s going to be a long night.
***
“Your Majesty…” murmurs Nesparu as he walks behind Grand Prince Yaulander.
“Yes, Count Nesparu?” asks Yaulander, walking proudly.
“Are you not concerned that Count Baumalde might try to flee?”
“If he does, it’s further proof.”
“Did… you know, your Majesty? That he wasn’t the true designer?”
“I had my suspicions. My information indicates that there was a different Court Magic Artisan who disappeared around the time of completion for the artilleries and their first deployment.”
“Y-You mean the Stalvaltan Heiress?” whispers Nesparu, as if anyone nearby of importance will overhear them.
“No,” replies Yaulander. “The half-goblin.”
Nesparu comes to a stop out of sheer overload to his brain. He quickly jogs into step with the Grand Prince. “I… I know of her, but… you think…?”
“I’m losing confidence in the human we retrieved.” Yaulander comes to a stop and looks at him. “A goblin that far east isn’t going to have a true support network. Her talent had to have been undeniable, but who would wish to be overshadowed by such a lowly creature? I’m not surprised if these turn out to be the course of events. What I’m more concerned with is; where is the goblin now?”
“I’ll put out some inquiries, your Majesty.”
Yaulander nods. “In the meantime, we’ll simply have the artisans analyze what they can. From what they’ve said, the actual spell woven into the structure is layered in such a way that attempting to deconstruct it runs the risk of a contaminated spell or even a curse.”
“Your Majesty?” asks Nesparu, unsure of what he means.
Yaulander nods towards Zuzia, who is wearing ragged clothes and a collar that compels her actions. “Tell me what the difference is between that right there and a curse.”
Nesparu thinks for a moment, and he finally shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure, your Majesty. I only know that curses appear more in ancient texts describing divine magic.”
Yaulander nods. “There are more possibilities to magic than merely six elements, and the elements share common ancestry, so to speak. A broken complex spell we don’t understand could be just as dangerous as discovering a cursed object in an ancient ruin. And, void magic does skirt the threshold of magic that curses fall into.”
“I understand.”
“For now, we’ll make do with what we have. Isn’t that right, Rat?” The Grand Prince snickers as he continues on his path. Zuzia doesn’t say anything, simply following at the established distance.
Nesparu jogs into step with the blond man, and he asks the next thing on his mind. “Your Majesty, if I may; my men are standing by to deploy to Centerhold.”
“Centerhold?” asks Yaulander. “Why would they go to Centerhold?” He turns to look at Nesparu again, seemingly genuinely shocked to be asked that.
“Y-... Your Majesty? I… Didn’t her Imperial Grace… order all Imperial forces to deploy aid for the mana fire?”
“Sundenelle is often impatient before she has control of a situation, and in this case, our best move is to wait until we have the void artillery restored.”
“Y-You think the void artillery will stop the fire, your Majesty?”
“The mana fire will run out of mana eventually. But, it will be the perfect excuse to move it into range and avoid detection prematurely.”
Nesparu ponders these words, and he flinches when he makes a realization.
Wait… Does… Does he mean to assassinate… the Empress?
Yaulander smirks, seeming to know exactly what the count is thinking. He adds with a calm, slightly amused tone, “I mean to defend the Empire. I’m just not as hasty as her Imperial Majesty.”
With that, the Grand Prince continues on his way. He does seem to have more information about the situation than he should, and is planning around that. But, Nesparu has started to wonder what his source of information, particularly on magic, is.
True, curses are known to most who have some idea of magic, but their relationship to the elemental magic everyone is more familiar with is a deeper field of study typically only pursued by highly expert mages and scholars. Humans, particularly, draw more advantage out of mastering elemental magic than broadening knowledge of extra-elemental or the more primal malison fields of magic. Even during his Imperial aristocratic upbringing, which included several years at the Imperial Nobiliary Academy, curses are talked about more about how to avoid them in the event of attempted assassinations or incapacitations, since Emperors before the last two have gone on campaigns to eradicate knowledge of the field of malisons and other, often sinister, forms of magic, which included necromancy –benign or otherwise–, mind manipulation, and death-on-contact.
Nesparu largely favors Yaulander’s approach to defending the Empire and its dignity on the global stage, but the Empire has thrived on the dynasty forged generations ago in the Lindenmorg family. The Empire is pretty relaxed in religious mandates, but speaking of assassinating the Emperor or Empress is not very far off of committing an unspoken blasphemy that sustains a low-level fear in even some of the more skeptical aristocrats that a potential for divine wrath isn’t off the table.
I’ll just stick to the tasks I’ve been assigned. Whatever Yaulander has planned is beyond what I want to deal with, especially without Serrentuk. That worthless fool. I can’t believe he’s dead after all these centuries…
Nesparu makes his way back to his own villa in the Grand Principality’s capital city. He has some preparations to make, and if Yaulander does give orders related to the mana fire and the Empress…
I’ll have to decide then. But, that can remain a problem for future-Nesparu to solve…
***
Zuzia stands up as she feels the magically-driven VTOL shuttle touch down in the County capital city of Urflasdat. She jokes, “This feels like cheating in a medieval fantasy world.”
“It certainly makes me quite jealous as an Empress,” replies Sundenelle warmly. “Though, it’s far less comfortable than the steedless carriages.”
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“Steedle-... Ah, right, it’s not horses here. So, he has cars, too?” She shakes her head dryly, adding, “Shouldn’t he be enjoying the fantasy aspect?” She begins adjusting the leather bracers and armored gloves she has on to make sure they fit properly. She doesn’t need the armoring and padding, most likely, but it will give her a bit more credibility as either a mercenary, adventurer, or even a soldier, considering her uniform matches those of Daniel and Neith, but with a different color scheme of dark green striping on greys and blacks, other than the two being in more complete armor. It’s baggier than Sundenelle’s riding uniform, which has a somewhat European aristocratic look, but is more tailor-fit to the albino Empress.
Sundenelle adds, “Given the profound additional comfort, efficiency, and effectiveness, I can say with certainty, I would make the same choices if I were in such a position. Not to mention the military superiority.” She joins Zuzia as Treia lowers the ramp with a button.
The gatonine replies, “If it makes you feel any better, he does like turning it all off for a break, going out on camping trips or to the gardens for peace and quiet.”
“It’s probably because there’s no internet here… Ah!” As Zuzia is pondering the lack of modern entertainment, which even Daniel will require more time to implement, let alone create the actual entertainment, she is struck with a realization. She makes the simple gesture as she was taught, and sure enough, her own phone appears in her hand.
Treia, Sundenelle, and Heralesse all flinch. “Daniel’s artifact!?” asks Heralesse with shock.
“What? No. This one’s mine. It’s a cell phone. Does he seriously treat this like some sort of divine treasure?”
“Not exactly,” replies Treia. “The easiest way to explain it to us was as an artifact, though he has also described it as a “tablet with infinite faces”, “Earth-magic grimoire”, or a “pocket archive”. He has explained how it’s also a communication device, but it obviously doesn’t work here without others like it.”
Zuzia nods, understanding why her counterpart would adapt to the language, since Treia does seem to have a decent idea of what it is.
The catgirl asks curiously, “But, you have one as well? Were they truly so common on Earth?”
The Polish woman nods. Hers was a couple years old when she came to this world, since it was working just fine and she mainly used it for GPS and emergency contact when she was out on hikes, and for keeping in touch with her friends and coworkers normally. She definitely wishes she had internet access, but the fact that Amalaskae used her angel-magic to make it work for GPS and texting her, specifically, is extremely nice. It arrives with only a single new message from Amalaskae, which reads, “[Here you go, Zuzu! Be careful on your mission! I’m watching over you, and I won’t let anything happen again!]”
Zuzia texts back, “[Thank you, Amala. But, don’t risk yourself in the process. You have no idea how worried I was.]”
“[I know… I’m sorry! TwT I’ll make stupid Daniel and his friends move faster this time.]”
The brunette scoffs and returns her attention to the others. “Sorry. Amala and I can message with this, and I was wondering if she can make it work with Daniel’s. I should have asked him.”
“D-Does it work like that?” asks Heralesse. “Without… magic?”
Zuzia can’t help but giggle. “Yeah. Well, no, since it does need magic to work on this world. But, it normally wouldn’t need magic. Pardon me for a moment…” She then texts Amalaskae again, “[Can you connect my phone to Daniel’s? I’ll need his number if that’s a thing with however you made it work. But, it would be helpful for what we’re doing.]”
There’s a short pause, and Amalaskae’s reply comes back. “[Sure thing! I’ll send you his contact!]”
As promised, a contact card pops up just like normal, and it ironically even has an address in Florida of the USA, in spite of his current location being on Zenkon, as well as an email address and the company that he works at.
Zuzia taps it and hits the phone icon to try calling him.
The phone is silent for a moment, but then rings with a strange, soft tone rather than the one she would normally hear. It’s possible Amalaskae doesn’t know what it’s supposed to sound like, or it’s an effect of how it’s connecting through her power. Regardless, it rings through for a long time, while Treia starts to say, “Uhh… Zuzia…?”
The Polish woman whispers, “Just a sec, I won’t be long. Sorry.”
Treia’s ears are almost as expressive as Hekate’s but smaller. She doesn’t make any of the silly anime gestures or verbal ticks, like ‘nya’, but she does otherwise have a few cute movements and expressions that only a catgirl’s ears and tail could do.
“Hello?” asks a soft female voice. But, because Zuzia was gearing up to quickly get her question out of the way, not hearing Daniel’s voice come across the phone startles her, and she is momentarily stunned.
“I… This is Zuzia. Who is this?”
“I’m Reignleif. But, Daniel’s phone shouldn’t work as a phone on Zenkon.”
“Reina?” asks Treia, impressed to hear the dragon’s voice come from the phone, even as quiet as the ear-speaker is on Zuzia’s phone compared to speaker phone mode.
But, Zuzia is still hung up on one thing. “Wait! Why doesn’t Daniel have his phone?”
“That’s what I was going to tell you,” replies Treia, a little sarcasm slipping into the feline woman’s voice. “Daniel’s phone remains in the Citadel as a resource, since it didn’t work before.”
“That’s Treia, right?” asks Reignleif’s voice in Zuzia’s ear. “She’s correct. I only answered because I happened to be nearby. It suddenly started making strange noises, but I recognized the symbols on the screen thanks to… um… nothing.”
Daniel has been letting them watch movies and anime on it, hasn’t he? Some ‘sacred artifact’…
“I was going to ask if we could keep in touch with our phones, but it won’t help much if he doesn’t have his…”
“If you need anything from Mukori, I can relay any messages. If you insist he must have it, one of us can bring it right away.”
“No, it’s fine for now. Thanks. I just thought of it as soon as we separated for different tasks.”
“If Mukori, um, Daniel is doing something reckless, please inform only me,” replies Reignleif. She has a gentle and soft voice, touching close to the “icy beauty” type of character voice in animes and shows, but she has more obvious affection and emotion in what she’s saying, she simply speaks softly. She adds to clarify, “Ryuo and Geira will try to stop him, even if his actions are necessary for fear of the danger. I would rather help him so he succeeds quickly and safely.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. But, I think Treia can hear you…”
“Treia is there because she won’t stand in his way. Were the children not with us, we would be there alongside the rest of you. Or, Mukori, specifically. I’m not asking you to shut out the others. But… there is a time and place to tell them. Mukori knows his limits, but he also might readily sacrifice himself.”
“Understood. So far, unless you consider learning some spell from Rikuto reckless, I think Daniel’s fine. Hekate, right? She’s with him.”
“Good. Hekate is much stronger and smarter than she might seem, but look out for her too if and when you can, please. I’m not sure how, but I will do what I can to repay you, and as a dragon empress, I can probably manage a lot.”
Zuzia chuckles. “Thanks. I’ll keep you posted, Reignleif. Or… do you go by Reina?”
“Either is fine for friends, Zuzia. Please call me Reina. I don’t exactly know how to call you, though.”
“I’ll personally walk you through it after we’re done out here. It’s a little inconvenient, but use whatever methods you would have used before the phone. But, keep it nearby in case I need to call for something, please.”
“Right. Will do. Um… Over?”
Again, Zuzia laughs softly. Daniel obviously taught his people some of the military-style of using radios, but not the phones because he had no one to call yet, or didn’t think to ask his angel, Ryukana, to make it work. Considering the chaos between him and Rikuto, and the surprising level of amicability they have with each other in spite of it, Zuzia is surprised they don’t already have their cell phones connected to each other.
Regardless, she says, “Alright, Reina, I’m hanging up now. The phone will ring again with that same noise if I call again.”
“Right. Thank you. I will be nearby… Ah! Gyualen! Did I wake you…?”
Zuzia can just make out the sounds of a non-human baby fussing, obviously belonging to the violet-hued baby dragon belonging to the blue-haired woman Zuzia briefly met, and she hangs up the phone, since the conversation is done. She explains to the others, “Sorry about that.”
“That was fascinating… You didn’t have to take turns with buttons,” replies Sundenelle as she inspects the device in Zuzia’s hand. She doesn’t snatch it away, but she’s clearly curious.
Zuzia hands it over for the albino girl to look at it, explaining, “Radios are different, and not all of them require relays for rather long range communication. But, they usually require distinct ‘transmit’ and ‘receive’ modes to be separate. But, more importantly, that was a bust. Let’s focus on this, and I’ll make sure it works for next time. God forbid there is a next time, of course.”
Sundenelle, while inspecting the phone carefully, treats it like a delicate treasure, like a work of art. But, Amalaskae made Zuzia’s phone effectively indestructible, such that she can chuck it off into oblivion to keep it out of the hands of enemies and summon it back to herself if need be.
Of course, like probably any twenty-eight year old person, Zuzia has broken her fair share of breakable things, including a cell phone before the days of drop-resistant screens shock-proof cases. She spent the better part of a year with spider cracks across her screen because her fingers thought they were toes that day.
She then leads the way off of the shuttle to find two distinctly different groups, and one that nearly stops her heart.
She immediately recognizes the trio formed of a human, a shenwulf, and a gatonine, with the shenwulf noticing her first. He smiles, noticeably seeming relieved.
Zuzia jogs ahead. The other group seems to be soldiers belonging to the Count, speaking calmly with the trio of mercenaries who also arrived on a separate shuttle.
“Guys! You’re alright!”
“Lady Zuzia!” “Zuzia!” “Zuzia Spolskia!” cheer the mercenaries together. She dives into a hug with Halkadon the shenwulf first, and he laughs after a cough from the impact, returning the hug as the other two laugh and pat her shoulders.
“The Grand Oedkrivza returns!” jokes Verbert the gatonine.
“We certainly have some plains of fire,” retorts Wulfsten.
“You guys… I’m so happy you’re alright. And… I’m so sorry for what happened.”
She hugs the other two in turns while the others approach, and Wulfsten reassures her, “Pay it no mind, my Lady. We never blamed you, and we failed to protect you.”
The men notice the other three women approaching, and the soldiers of Count Ethuvere go rigid and bow their heads, keeping hold of their spears. The mercenaries separate from Zuzia enough to kneel, and Wulfsten greets them, “Your Imperial Majesty, the mercenaries Wulfsten, Verbert, and Halkadon humbly greet you.”
“Greetings to your Imperial Majesty!” adds the gatonine and shenwulf together.
“Please rise,” replies Sundenelle. “And, men of the Ethuvere County, please withhold formalities for now. I am here as an officer in the fight against the mana fire, not the Empress.”
“Same for me,” adds Heralesse, since they turn their eyes to her. Zuzia feels a little bad for Treia, since no one seems to even consider her on the same level, which the Polish woman chooses to blame on Daniel. It’s not just his own reputation and dignity that suffers as an emperor with a harem. His consorts, in turn, are not only ranked, but they’re already starting from a ‘just one of many’ position on the political stage.
That said, and if she’s being charitable to her American counterpart, Treia doesn’t carry herself at all like an Empress or Queen the way Sundenelle and Heralesse do. She is more like a blue collar worker like Daniel than an aristocrat or royal.
Sundenelle adds, “And, master Wulfsten, you and your men are contracted by the Fievegal, now, correct?”
“Yes. Though, the technical end of our contract has already been fulfilled.”
“You don’t have to risk your lives further,” states Zuzia confidently. “I owe you guys everything, so please evacuate to safety. Your time is worth money, right?”
“Of course,” replies Verbert. “Which is why we’re being well-paid for this work.”
“Best contract we’ve had in years,” jokes Halkadon.
Wulfsten nods in agreement. “Once helping you was taken care of, Zuzia, you’re right. We’re mercenaries. And, I like to keep the books square when it comes to jobs. Nothing is more clear than money, and nothing more dubious than a promise of future work.”
Treia scoffs. “You’re not wrong, but that would have been the point of the contract, as well as the formal titles.”
“Agreed, your Grace. But, with all due respect, the Fievegal’s titles don’t yet hold weight. Your gold and jewels are perfectly spendable.”
The feline woman laughs, nodding in agreement, and Zuzia is feeling more and more like everything is going back to ‘normal’. At least, as ‘normal’ as a magic-filled fantasy world can be for a Polish woman transported across dimensions to be here only a few months ago.
Sundenelle asks the soldiers, “Now then, gentlemen, may we request a meeting with Count Ethuvere once more? We won’t waste much time on trying to convince him without evidence, but we would like to borrow either himself or someone he trusts to see it so we can try to get the process moving. Additionally, we have the means to send a message to Royal Capital of Ahmpur to inform his Majesty even sooner.” She gestures at the shuttles, which any of them would be fools to not understand why that is the case.
“We’ve already sent a messenger ahead, your Majesty,” replies one of the soldiers. “We can escort you into the estate to wait for word from his Lordship, but I can’t guarantee he can meet with you today, your Majesty.”
Zuzia wonders what relationship their respective kingdom and Empire have such that a count of the former can simply ignore the Empress of the latter in person, even if she showed up unannounced. It’s unlikely to happen, but Sundenelle did say she’s not acting as the Empress, which is admittedly irresponsible for her to be anywhere near the front line. Regardless, it also speaks to a sort of character that the sovereignty takes the time to lay their own eyes on a crisis in order to help them work with their allies to solve it.
Saying “it’s a big fire” doesn’t do the current matter justice. Even the Longman himself couldn’t convey its full scope with even the most eloquent verbal analysis. Seeing it puts it far beyond words alone.
Sundenelle answers politely, “I’m aware that I’m here without warning for a second time, but this fire is not waiting for a king or an Empress’s permission. And, if what we heard is true, it has the potential to get far, far worse. That said, as I promised, I’m not here to strongarm the Count yet. So, please, take your time.”
Her tone has a slightly condescending edge to it, implying that the soldiers should consider putting some pressure on their liege lord to ensure there’s a meeting at least. Sundenelle isn’t weaponizing her status as Empress, but she is also using it to imply that the Count should take a greater interest in helping them. It’s likely only just reaching the outskirts of his County, which likely isn’t nearly as well developed as his interior land. Farming or other industry right up against a border is just begging to be raided by bandits, adversarial territories outside of his kingdom, or even large beasts and monsters of this world.
“Please come this way, your Majesty, your Graces,” offers one of the soldiers.
Zuzia notices as Sundenelle starts forward that Wulfsten, Verbert, and Halkadon don’t move.
“Lady Zuzia? Will you be joining us?”
“I can, but what about these three?” She gestures to the mercenaries.
Halkadon is surprised, but is the first to reply, “Pay us no mind, my lady. We’ll wait here.”
“The mercenaries shall accompany me as my guards,” states Sundenelle. She isn’t asking for permission. She’s informing the soldiers that it’s how it’s going to be.
The soldier glances between them, and he nods, coming to the simplest answer. “So long as the mercenaries leave their weapons behind, your Majesty.”
Sundenelle nods. “I’m amenable to that. Gentlemen, leave your weapons on the shuttle and join us.”
“Y-Yes your Majesty!” The three quickly scramble back into the shuttle, leaving them behind. Zuzia catches a glimpse of a handful of goblins inside their shuttle, but they are staying out of sight. Since the goblins do appear to be official soldiers of Daniel’s Fievegal, she doesn’t say anything. If they end up as enemies, she’ll just have to hope she can survive a rifle, which she believes she can. She’s not in a hurry to confirm, but given what Neith claimed he needed to withstand, Zuzia can still punch much harder.
The mercenaries quickly rejoin them, and Zuzia walks with the three men as they all follow the royalty, unorthodox or otherwise.
As they walk, she takes the time to catch up on the gap of time from when she was captured, which thankfully, was minimal for them. Once Serrentuk was revived and freed, he insisted that the mercenaries be healed, which was mostly done with minimal magic. Healing magic can and is used pretty freely, but for minor wounds, natural healing is favored.
Zuzia’s side of things makes the three men visibly angry, and she’s happy they care enough about her to be angry on her behalf. But, she’s just happy for that to be behind her before anything worse could have happened.
She does wonder if Yaulander has figured out the doppelganger placed in her stead, but she also doesn’t really want to know what is happening to her ‘visage’. If it ever poses a threat to her own reputation, she’ll worry about it at that time. Since illusion magic seems to exist, she can simply claim that Yaulander is trying to harm her reputation. If she can accuse him of using a doppelganger in public, that would be ideal. But, she also won’t be angry if she never sees him again.
That said, she obviously isn’t naive enough to believe reality will reflect that hope.
The dark part of her heart wants to punch his head clean off of his shoulders. And, although her current body could likely do exactly that, she’ll find better avenues for her strength and let karmic justice deal with Yaulander.
After actual justice catches up to him, hopefully.
As for strength, she may get an opportunity to unshackle her might once more far sooner than she was expecting.
***