Author's note: I apologize for the long delay. Unfortunately, life got in the way.

Ignes II – Werewolf Island, 11th November, 14:00

Nobles could be terribly stubborn. This must be especially true for their Lord. Ignes never thought much of pride or tradition, and morals was a concept she barely understood in the first place. Now, however, she felt genuine resentment towards all these things nobles were so proud of – Raskreia's pride and wish for integrity might cost her her own neck, after all. The choice should be easy, shouldn't it? Raskreia could not possibly be naïve enough to believe Maduke would refrain from devouring Lukedonia just because their Lord stayed put in his dungeons. What good could she do, locked up in there? One would think Raskreia would consider forgiving someone like herself would be a small price to pay for her freedom and dignity.

Ignes' breath trembled slightly when she descended to the deepest part of the old dungeons. The torch she had left a couple of days ago had burned down already. Avoiding the steely gaze of the Lord, she placed her torch in the halter. Even though they got by with their other senses well enough, she preferred to have a source of light. When the torch was secured steadfast, she turned around to face Raskreia. Had she moved at all in the past days?

With a shaky sigh, she knelt once more. If she could swallow her pride and kneel before Maduke, she could kneel before Raskreia too. Anything that would improve her chances of ever getting to leave this place. Maduke would eat her alive if she did not find a way out. One that would not force her to run and hide.

"Lord," she started and steeled herself for another rejection. Hope was all she had left in this world now. "Have you thought about my proposal?"
"I still decline. Your crimes cannot be forgiven."
"So you will rather sit here and do nothing?! Who is that going to help?!" Her voice cracked. Disbelief was replaced by anger. This was not just about her. Not that she cared much about Lukedonia or the Nobles. But if they did not oppose Maduke, no one would. "Are you really that blind?! I am the lesser evil here!"
"There is no such thing as lesser evil," Raskreia stated coldly and it made Ignes' blood boil in fury.
"Why the hell have you come here anyway?!" Did she really think she could go ahead and challenge a werewolf Lord two thousand years her senior and win? For what purpose? Her rage was met with dignified silence. Angrily, she got back up on her feet and almost gave in the urge to pace nervously.

Ignes drew a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I know I am not a good person. But Maduke? He's worse. And he's just getting started. Lo- Raskreia. Grant me sanctuary with the nobles and I will find a way to get us both out of here."

Raskreia fell silent for a moment, brows furrowed in concentration. "He is coming." Her voice was little more but a whisper and it made Ignes feel cold. A few seconds later, her own senses, inferior to that of a Lord, picked up traces of his approaching energy too.

His steps were slow, and he took his sweet time to descend down to them. Ignes wanted to avoid his gaze, and steeled herself. Everything was alright. He didn't know why she was down here. They were on the same side. Everything was alright.

"I see you are spreading joy and happiness wherever you go, Ignes. Why so gloomy, ladies?" His steely, impassive face made his words of mockery sound hollow and grotesque. With his hands clasped behind his back, he stepped closer and stopped before Raskreia's cell.

"Indulge me, Lord. How did Muzaka convince you to support his little rebellion?"
"There were no arrangements," Raskreia replied coolly. "You have been notified of our intentions to avenge Ser Rajak Kertia's death."
Maduke snorted in disbelief. "Do you expect me to believe that? That you and your clan leaders showed up here, by pure coincidence, at the same time as Muzaka and Lunark?"
"Believe what you wish."

Maduke tensed and, for one second, Ignes could see anger flaring up in his usually expressionless eyes. "I suppose it does not matter regardless. Your reasons do not change the fact that you invaded my lands and killed several of our warriors. Don't you understand? You nobles no longer stand on top of the food chain. And when I am done with you, there will be nothing left of you. Nothing. Not of Lukedonia, not of the nobles, not of you."

He was not short on threats towards the nobles, the clan leaders and the Lord herself, and many of them cut deep enough to make Ignes dread she might have to see some of them come true with her own eyes. She believed every single one of them, and the Lord should not have to hear such vivid, profane cruelty detailed to her.

"Please, she is still the Lord -", Ignes started, and Maduke turned around sharply, raising his hand in the same motion. The sound of the back of his hand hitting the side of her face resounded against the cold stone of the dungeon and she staggered back, stars exploding before her eyes. She drew a shaky breath.
"And when I talk, you do not interrupt."

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Ignes felt as if she was going to choke on her hatred. Could they overwhelm him, here and now? She and Raskreia. Away from the warriors who could come to help, and they could be long gone by the time anyone noticed they had murdered their Lord. A glance at the faintly glowing runes on the floor of Raskreia's cell reminded her of the trap sigil Zaiga had placed to keep Raskreia from escaping, on top of all other measures they had taken.

She no longer listened to the disgusting things Maduke had to say to the Lord and she was caught off-guard when he addressed her, done with his threats and taunts for now.

"Ignes. We're leaving," he said and she knew that insisting to stay here was not an option right now. A brief glance at Raskreia. The noble Lord's hands were clenched into fists, her lower lip trembled ever so slightly as she tried to maintain her lordly composure. There was no point in staying here. Looking away uncomfortably, Ignes followed Maduke.

They left the facility, now well guarded by several warriors, and she noticed he was not heading straight for the castle. Was she free to just go about her way now? Ignes had half a mind to ask when he finally stopped and turned around to her. Something in his eyes... it was a sentiment much more complex than simple anger.

"Do you enjoy being difficult?", he asked.
Ignes just glared because she knew there was no correct answer here.
"I asked you a question," he repeated, and Ignes took a step back when he reached for her. "Do you enjoy being difficult?"
Making him repeat himself a third time would be dangerous. "I am not being difficult.. Lord."
"You are being difficult again," he said flatly. "I do not ask much of you, do I? Not interrupting me when I talk is one of those things. Is that too difficult?"

Ignes did not pull away when he placed his hand against her cheek. He made her feel sick. "Do not force me to be harsh with you," he said, voice smooth as a purr. When he placed his mouth against hers, she wanted to gag.

Gejutel II – Lukedonia, 12th November, 17:00

In these trying times, staying in contact with their remaining allies was paramount. The phone was such a strange device, and felt odd in Gejutel's hands, but he had mostly figured out how to use it. At least he could start and accept calls.

"This is Gejutel Landegre speaking. Tao, can you hear me?" The only communication network connection he had on Lukedonia was at the coastal base of the central knights.
His question was met with static noise at first. "This is Ge-"
"Yes, I can hear you. Lukedonia really needs some better connections. But I fixed it."
"How is the situation in South Korea?"
"It's calm." Tao sounded exhausted. "The Union has gone quiet, all of a sudden. We are keeping the school open like Rai asked us to... actually, how is Rai? Is he alright?"

Gejutel fell silent for a moment. There was no point in hiding it. These modified humans were Ser Raizel's friends, after all. "His health is getting worse and worse. Though he no longer exerts himself physically..."

The weight of what happened in the werewolf territory and the burden of leadership drained him, emotionally, and maybe through that, spiritually and physically too. All he knew for certain was that Ser Raizel's state was abysmal.

"... Maybe he would feel better if he returned here. He likes school," Tao suggested carefully, and under better circumstances, Gejutel would have agreed with him.
"No. His state has gone so bad, we cannot risk anything by putting him into dangerous situations. South Korea has been so prone to trouble -"
"... wait. Hold up. So if we were in trouble, we'd just be for ourselves?"

He could hear the indignation in Tao's voice. Softly spoken words in the background, Gejutel assumed Takeo was there as well. The phone did not transmit his voice enough to pick up on what was being said exactly.

"I am sure Ser Raizel would be willing to send some of the clan leaders to help you protect yourself, if the Union makes any moves again," he offered apologetically. Even in these trying times, they must not forget the noble code of honour. They must protect those weaker than them. With Tao and Takeo being allies and friends, it was paramount to make sure they were safe as well. The school was important to Frankenstein and to Raizel. To Raskreia. To Seira. To Regis. There, Rael had grown as a person. So much happened at this school. He could understand why the humans did not want to abandon it to find refuge in Lukedonia.

"No. It's alright... We get that you're all in a shit situation right now." Tao laughed nervously and Gejutel briefly imagined him rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward gesture. "... and the union really is lying low... so low that I actually wondered..."
Gejutel waited.

"Okay, I know this sounds borderline crazy, but, what if we try and team up with the Union? The werewolves are a threat to them too, right? My enemy's enemy is my friend, and that kind of stuff."
"We would have to reveal our situation to them – and out weakness. We do not know how much power the Union has left. They might help us. They might also choose to seize the opportunity to finish what they started."

Tao thought for a moment. "The Union also suffered heavy losses," he pointed out. In that aspect, the human was correct: the confrontations with Ser Raizel and Frankenstein always ended with the defeat of the enemy... up to now. "... Just discuss that, maybe, at least? I really have no idea what else we can do to solve this mess."
"I will do that. Goodbye, Tao. Contact us anytime, if you require our assistance."
"Bye. And tell Rai we say hello, and think of him daily."

They ended the call. Gejutel knew that, technically, by the laws of the werewolves, it would be enough to defeat their Lord. Under normal circumstances, he would be certain that Ser Raizel would be capable of dealing with this – any true noble would offer up his life willingly for the sake of the greater good. Even of he would hate to ask for this kind of sacrifice – however, they could not afford to underestimate the werewolf Lord a second time. He feared that if they were to fail, there would be no third time left.

With an exhausted sigh, Gejutel rubbed the bridge of his nose. In the past few weeks, he felt as though he had aged by another thousand years. How did things get to this point? For a while, he had been even hopeful, with the traitor clan leaders gone and the Noblesse and his bonded back as their allies. Had he grown too comfortable? Had he failed his duty as the Lord's advisor? Raskreia had not even consulted him in her plans.

He was not entitled to be heard. The Lord had no obligation to seek his counsel when making decisions. This was a harsh truth he needed to remind himself of. Yet what had driven the Lord to such recklessness?

With Ser Raizel's life force fading away, they must orchestrate a perfectly executed strike, a fail-safe plan, or else they would all be doomed.

He returned to the Landegre estate to an unexpected guest. Rosaria sat on an armchair in the entrance parlour, looking even more somber than she usually did these days. Gejutel was well aware of the close friendship that tied Raskreia and Rosaria closer than just a Lord and her Clan Leader. This must be particularly difficult for her, then.

"Gejutel, I apologize for showing up unannounced, but this weighs on my heavier than I can continue to bear in silence -"
He raised one hand to signal for her to stop, and Rosaria interrupted her nervous words, brows furrowed into a worried frown. "Would you like to have a cup of tea, before you continue?"
She shook her head and pushed up her glasses, displaced by the movement of her head.
"No... I... This is my fault!" Her voice cracked slightly and Gejutel was taken aback by her sudden confession – no. Self accusation. No one was at fault here. Everyone was to blame. Rosaria took a heavy breath, cheeks flushed red. "I kept pushing her to do it. She was thinking about it but I thought... I thought we could do it. One strike, and it's good, and Rajak is avenged, and we will have peace – I thought Ra- the Lord is powerful enough to do it. If not her, then who else?"

Gejutel fell silent. So that's why she had chosen to go without telling almost anyone – even the Lord was not immune to the pressure of expectation and emotion. Maybe Rosaria had not forced her – but she had enabled whatever thought the Lord might have entertained.

"I don't know how to bear the weight of my blame!", she continued, breathless, helpless, and he felt himself reminded of the many times the young clan leaders had ask for help when they all found themselves on their own after the previous Lord decided his time had come.

"Rosaria," he started, and almost reached out for her. His gesture did not go unnoticed – casting aside all decorum and protocol, she wrapped her arms around him, the way she had done often, the way many of the clan leaders has done in the past, and Gejutel placed his hands on her back comfortingly. "You burn with a passionate fire. This is who you are. Emotion clouds our judgement at times, that is true for everyone. Civilians, Clan Leaders, Lords."

He allowed her to cry and this time, she would not be chided for how inelegant this was. Though he might not be able to take this burden off her heart, he could at least hope to ease it enough for her to focus on her tasks as clan leader – and maybe even clear her mind enough to think of something. Rosaria was a bright, keen young woman after all.

"You cannot undo what happened. No one can. But we can look ahead and make sure tomorrow will be better than today."