Chapter 94: i meet a lot of new people (and they're weird)

Upper Earth Month, 1st Day, 600 AGG

"Ugh…"

Rogrek uncurled himself from the pile of cushions he had fallen asleep on. He almost wished he didn't, not with the recent beating the Republic's army suffered at the hands of the Mirewood Dragon Lord.

On the bright side, the Mac'tal incursions had come to a hopefully permanent halt.

On the not-so-bright side, that outcome came about because he and his fellows had failed and needed the Goddess to clean up their mess.

The tigerman's stomach churned.

Punishment was… he wasn't sure if that was in the books, to be honest. Queen Oriculus and the angel's intent for the Republic seemed to lean towards mutual cooperation, but his people had ranched and eaten theirs mere months ago. Ill-will was expected under those circumstances.

'I best wash my neck then,' he morbidly joked to himself as he headed to the makeshift meeting chamber his peers had been using since arriving in Ur'draga. Clean or not, a demise dispensed by the Dragon Queen was bound to be dreadful if what she did to Falgun was any hint. 'I… should get going. We need to decide what to do with Ur'draga.'

Clan Ur's property had suffered under the claws of the spiders; anything magical had been carried off, crucial infrastructure torn down, and overall in a general state of disrepair. Rajans were normally expected to handle problems in their domain by themselves, but damage this great threatened to propagate harm throughout the Republic as a whole.

He forewent the fine food provided out of his allowance as Rajan Kroh'or and chewed on a strip of Nuk jerky instead. Gave him everything he needed anyway.

'I don't want to do anything…'

Rogrek wasn't cut out for this role. Lord he might be, but leadership was a weight that sat heavily on his shoulders. Clan Kroh'or required someone more competent during this tumultuous era.

"Rogrek!" Rokana waved him over to the empty chair next to her. "Late night?"

"Something like that," he lowered himself into the seat, tail loosely hanging down the gap in the back. The side-eyeing of the other Rajans was easy to ignore now—whether he was weaker or stronger than them didn't matter anymore. Not with the angels around. "It won't get in the way of my duties."

"Good, good," she nodded towards the front of the room. "Because we're just about ready to start."

The next hour or so passed in a blur. People were put to task, responsibilities were divided, budgets were determined, and then the daily meeting was over. Rokana Nadhkrt patted his shoulder and said something that he supposed was meant to be encouraging before leaving.

'Enverak's recovered quickly,' Rogrek noted on his way out. Rajan Ur looked considerably healthy for somebody who ought to be struggling with the symptoms of resurrection sickness. '… is it really surprising?'

No. It wasn't.

An angel with an obscene number of arms stalked past him—a Principality Slaughter, he now knew—weeping golden ichor from its mask. Rogrek gave the horrid thing a wide berth and felt a twinge of pity for whoever would inevitably offend its alien sensibilities. Ordinary beastmen, even seasoned warriors, might as well be meat on a chopping block to the Principality.

This was a lesser angel. The higher ranked ones were beyond his abilities to evaluate, but he'd be damned if they weren't comparable to Dragon Lords.

While he was still contemplating the nature of the Republic's new enforcers, a vague sense of unease chilled his blood. Queen Oriculus again?

"Is this him?" He heard the moment he crossed into the vestibule of Clan Kroh'or's assigned building. It was a smooth, utterly unremarkable voice save for the confidence it projected.

Rogrek warily beheld the Minotaur—they had to be with those horns and that bulk—and the forgettable beastmen accompanying them.

'Forgettable?' Each of the caped guards surrounding the, the Minotaur? Each was bedecked in full, embellished adamantite plate that covered every inch of their hide. In fact, Rogrek could only tell their race by the shape of their helms. 'I'm… ah, there's visitors.'

The tigerman Rajan forced himself to refocus. Even among the strange group, the horned demihuman was dressed in bizarre garb: an inky cloak covered the similarly colored scale armor underneath while a night-black veil embroidered with silver cloud-like patterns hung far below their snout, concealing their face.

This group should've stuck out like a sore thumb wherever they went.

Somehow, they didn't.

"Y-Yes," his attention shifted to the gnoll who was somehow easier to perceive. They were… Dhartha. That merchant Enverak had consulted a while ago. "Rajan Kroh'or. On behalf of… your visitors, I apologize for the sudden intrusion."

"It's fine," his instincts weren't screaming, but something was wrong. Did the stranger ever give a name? "Honored guests, as your guide must have informed you, this one is Rajan Kroh'or. How may I be of assistance?"

"Charmed," the person, demihuman, stood up and extended their hand. "I'm here on business; you know how it is. Just a few questions and I'll be out your fur, Rajan."

Rogrek looked at—at—

How many strangers were there?

"Hm, I see. It can't be helped," the Minotaur retracted the appendage and sat back down. "Then, I hope you won't mind if we jump straight into the questions?"

"Of course not," he gulped. Why was he the one standing like some scolded cub? "Ask ahead."

"To my limited knowledge, this country has been at war with a nation of humans… to the west, is it?" They—horned, two horns—turned to one of the mysterious guards wearing a lion helmet. The guard barely inclined their head. "The west it is. This war, I presume, has been ongoing for a while?"

"A couple decades," this much was common knowledge. "However, only the border clans and some notably aggressive clans engaged in minor raids for the majority of this period."

"Would I be correct in assuming that hostilities escalated somewhat recently?"

Rogrek grunted. What a mistake that had been. "Indeed. Our Council decided the Draconic Kingdom would be better served being directly integrated into the Republic than treated as a barely regulated hunting preserve."

"I suppose these leaders of yours aren't alive to regret their decisions?"

"Most of them," Rogrek squinted. What, who was this demihuman? A Minotaur, probably. Why were they here? The Republic didn't have a large Minotaur population. Maybe they weren't one. "The angel, Lady Yuriko, spared only the High Vizier and two other Rajans. Since then, the human's kingdom has been the one to dictate our policies."

"Ah well. Your nation is quite fortunate to have gotten off so easily. Historical trends usually predict… different outcomes in these cases," they snorted. "Apologies. I'm told I have a tendency to wander. When was this Lady Yuriko first sighted, if you know?"

"Nearly four months ago," the questions felt off-putting. No, it was more than just the questions. Everything about this group felt odd in a way that repeatedly evaded conscious thought. "None of us have any idea where that mons—person came from prior to our attempted attack on Mohajar, one of the human's cities."

Rogrek growled. Enough was enough—

"The timeframe is almost a perfect match," his resolve faded into bewilderment as a serious note entered the person's voice. They were pointing at… somebody. Who was he looking at again? "Make an official note of that, if you would."

The jackal-helmed guard nodded. A Khenra? Rogrek didn't know members of that species lived anywhere near this region. His head was heavy. Heavier.

"Then that's that," the person was muttering to themselves. "Continuing westward is an option, but… mm. Orders are orders.

"One final question though, as a boon to you for being cooperative: are you aware of the effect placed upon you?" They tilted their head, horns tilting closer to both heaven and earth. "And most of the beastmen here for that matter?"

"Effect?" Rogrek dumbly repeated. This conversation had started out of nowhere to begin with, and the constant jumping around and fucking with his head was—

"I'm not sure what you mean," he slowly responded, unsure of how to take this development. First they'd asked questions pertaining to… something, and now they were acting as if this was a gift of sorts? "The few spellcasters skilled enough to enthrall me are preoccupied, and the Mac'tal haven't been sighted in weeks."

"I did say 'most of the beastmen here,' " the person scratched their chin. "So clearly it would take more than a rogue cabal or a small nest of vermin. Have you come into contact with some type of lord?"

"Yes. My responsibilities see me collaborating with fellow Rajans if that's what you're referring to."

"I was not."

"There's Her Majesty," an horrid memory dragged itself out from the depths. "Dragon Queen Draudillon Oriculus. We met—"

Severe twins of teal-green flashed across his eyes.

"—a while back. Fairly recently."

"Dragon Queen indeed," They crossed one leg over the other, knee propping ankle. "And the Republic chose the course they did?"

"We thought it to be just a title," Rogrek defensively justified. "For all intents and purposes, she may as well be a human."

"But she isn't the first ruler, and the kingdom is called the Draconic Kingdom…"

"Brightness Dragon Lord was—"

"I'm aware," The person interrupted him. "It was foolhardy of your old leaders, albeit understandable. To return to the topic at hand, she's probably the one who applied this effect."

"Oh," he didn't have much to add. Such an ability was fitting for a ruler after all, and there were worse fates they had avoided. "I see."

"You do, don't you?"

"Why are you here?"

"Hm?"

"It's obvious what she is and the danger she represents," Rogrek clenched his fists. "Checking in person is pointless; you've seen the angels. Is that not proof enough? Will you march to their capital next, demand an audience in person?"

"Goodness, no," they scoffed at the tigerman's frustration. Nothing was making sense, and barely being able to track who he was talking to wasn't helping. "We require confirmation, but there's limits to the risks we're willing to undertake."

"What you're doing is within those limits?"

"Yes, because this is just that important," Rogrek blinked and faced the person again; for a second, he'd been staring at a wall. "I don't believe you understand how much is at stake, Rajan, not fully."

They—sighed.

"How do I frame this…? Let's see: The Thirty-Six Pairs of Internal and External Contemplations explains functions, or I suppose, the motivations behind certain skills regardless of whether they work as intended or not. Imperfect, but a suitable model for Sages to draft the ontology of vocations with," the horned demihuman—Minotaur, they were a Minotaur—casually replied with nonsense that failed to clear his confusion. " 'To not be taken in by appearances despite living among them, to reach the skies by crawling in the dust; if one were to totally fixate on appearances, would they not increase false views? If one were to seek the firmaments without any regard for the earth, would they not fail to find a roost?'

"However, theorizing, conceptualizing—these things are useless if one can't integrate them due to lacking ontological weight. Logic defying Martial Arts, spells, and passive abilities are all things that require a certain amount of raw 'strength' to support their operation. That's why Deva's and Dragon Lords are frightening, you see? They have a 'heavy' enough existence to casually deploy abilities lesser beings have to pay with blood to imitate a mere fraction of. What would require an Archmage and ten others for us is only a few words for them. Our miracles are their mundane trifles…

"The world's watching, Rajan. And not because they're eager, but because they're afraid."

They got up and smoothed out the wrinkles in their cloak. "In any case, that's a topic you can consider at your leisure. "

"Uh… yes," he agreed, anger deflating like a punctured waterskin, not quite certain as to what exactly he was agreeing to. None of what the person said answered his question. "I'll look into it."

"Don't try too hard," the Mino—person dismissively gestured. "I'd give you supplementary reading materials, but allowing unnecessary relationships to linger makes certain things difficult. I hope you understand, Rajan."

"Of course." 'I don't.'

"Excellent. We'll be leaving now," the bizarre squad left as abruptly as they'd arrived, door clicking shut behind them.

"Errr, I'm just…" The gnoll inched towards the same door. "Going to go too—"

"Who were they?" Memories of the past few minutes were already distant.

Dhartha flinched. "Oooof… it's complicated? As in, well, not really complicated, but—"

"Get to the point," they slowly retreated with each step Rogrek took. "Those people, they weren't from anywhere near here yet were keeping track of this corner of the world. Whoever sent them figured whatever they already had in place wasn't sufficient, so what were they?"

"Epialos, that's what they were, probably," the words rushed out Dhartha's mouth. "Folks from the Asterion Federation—never great when they show their faces, heh. Get it? Faces, 'cause—"

"The Federation's 'boogeymen?' "

The gnoll closed their eyes and exhaled. "Na. Just investigators, I think. You're not supposed to know the real boogeymen, right?"

Rogrek spun around with a snarl and marched away to his bedroom.

"H-Hey! You asked!"

He was going to sleep this off and hopefully let the problem resolve itself. Or let the Goddess do it because they loved 'fixing' things apparently.

Fixing what exactly, the tigerman wasn't quite sure. Important things had been discussed, but for the life of him he couldn't recall.

Rogrek scratched an itch budding between the shoulderblades.

His shadow felt itchy.


The Draconic Kingdom's liquor was, by his standards, top-shelf. If Zanac had one complaint, it was that he drank too much of it, and he could hardly blame somebody else for that, could he?

"Long live the Dragon Queen's distilling techniques," the prince mumbled to himself and finished off the glass. "Her distiller's techniques. Whatever."

On that note, he found it strange Oriculia Castle's cellars were stocked with so many high-percentage spirits. Queen Oriculus seemed to prefer a kick in her drinks, apparently.

'Luckily for us,' Zanac refilled the transparent goblet. "A toast to the craziest ruler this side of the Dragonspine."

Anyone who decided to court the monster who was the Lady of Wings had to be a little off in the head. Not that he blamed or judged Queen Oriculus; being predated on by beastmen for decades probably wasn't conducive to the nerves. Hell, he himself would've become a barely functioning drunkard in her position.

'And to think I was almost taken in by their facade too.'

Before the Re-Estize delegation's arrival, Zanac had worried over meeting the individual behind the Draconic Kingdom's ascent and the Beastman Country's humiliation. The tales bards spun painted a picture of a wrathful deity indiscriminately visiting her vengeance on every beastman to ever live, excessively descriptive in a few cases—okay, fine. Nearly all the ones he'd heard were sung in disturbing detail because of course people loved that sort of thing happening to storybook monsters.

Meeting her face to face had lowered his guard, caused part of him to think that the rumors were blown out of proportion. She acted kind, a little airheaded, and kept close to Queen Oriculus the entire time in a way most would deem endearing.

It reminded him of Renner—and that only exacerbated his fears. He and Raeven were painfully aware that an innocent appearance didn't always reflect an innocent soul.

Last night made that exceedingly clear.

When the angel had stopped suppressing the full extent of her presence, breathing became difficult. It was a fortunate reminder that no matter how beautiful she was, no matter how generous and charitable and what have you, the Lady of Wings was dangerous.

The type of dangerous that incinerated entire armies of powerful beastmen without even needing to be there in person. The type that dealt death with a thought and reversed it with a word.

All crammed into a single woman governed by a single mind and set of emotions.

'That sister of mine sank her claws into them damn quickly though. On the bright side, I assume it was her machinations that resulted in the Warrior Captain's return…'

Zanac grudgingly applauded his sister's bravery; depraved abomination or not, it took a special mental constitution to attempt to direct the Lady of Wings towards one's personal objectives. As for the details, he genuinely did not have the faintest idea, but the end goal… that guard of hers better brush up on his dog impersonation sooner rather than later.

With all the chaos and scheming and status quo upheavals that occurred in the span of the past four months, the prince could confidently declare that he was quite sick of everything.

Who knew? Maybe today was the day the Goddess would have a total meltdown and bring the entire corner of this world down with her. At least he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore past that point.

Right as Zanac was going to pour himself out a… he didn't count, but another glass of liquor, some busybody knocked on the door to his suite. 'Tch. That better not be Boullope coming to whine about last night again.'

Then again, that boar Boullope had kindly bankrolled the entire trip, so Zanac didn't exactly have the right to complain without sinking his already terrible reputation even further.

"Come in!" In spite of the temptation to just pretend he was sleeping, the prince sighed and steeled himself to struggle through what would assuredly be a draining interaction.

"Hi! Hello," the door cracked open, allowing a familiar head crested with pale-blonde hair to peek through with golden eyes. Ah, 'draining' was going to be an understatement, eh? "Oh—um, you look kinda red?"

"Don't mind me. It's just the heat," Zanac gestured to the seat opposite him, thinking about standing up and bowing before strangling that idea under the rationalization that he was more likely to trip and fall flat on his face. "Please, Lady Yuriko, have a seat."

"I thought the guest suites were temperature regulated," the Lady of Wings looked at him with concern as she accepted his offer. "You sure you're good?"

"Undoubtedly," he refused to let that unnatural beauty shake him like it had so many of his contemporaries. A striking first impression always needed to be guarded against, but what was the use, honestly? The only obstacle between him and an ignoble ending were whatever vague guidelines the Goddess followed. "A drink, Lady Yuriko?"

"Eh, no, I'm fine," she shook her head, golden hair whipping to and fro with all the fluidity of a waterfall—agh, he may as well try to ignore the sun. "It's too early to be drinking, I think—ah! N-Not that I'm trying to tell you what to do, but more like, hm, Queen Oriculus used to do that a lot, and…"

His bemused eyes watched them wring her hands, voice shrinking away. If this was an act, he confessed that divining the purpose was beyond his cognitive abilities. "I appreciate the concern shown regarding my health, but I assure you that this is well within my tolerance levels."

"Right! So, anyway!" Lady Yuriko carefully cleared an area on the table and placed a letter atop the surface. "Renner—um, your sister asked me to give you this."

'Using her as a courier, dear sister?' Zanac fought back the urge to snort. At this point, he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. His initial goal had been to somehow alleviate the pressure the Empire was exerting on Re-Estize, but with Renner's hands everywhere, risking anything with the angel felt dangerous. "Thank you."

He paused.

"Excuse my impudence, Lady Yuriko, but may I ask if my sister requested you send this in person?"

Any of the angels situated in the castle were more than enough security for even the most neurotic—assuming they trusted the Goddess—so for her to give the message herself was mildly surprising.

"No, but I thought it would be nice," she looked away while scratching her neck, markedly calmer than when she first entered. " 'Cause you're my friend's family, and she's always saying great things about you, right? We didn't get to talk much during the reception and ball either, so I thought this would be a good chance to sorta make up for that."

Lady Yuriko shrugged in a way that felt shockingly human. True, she could be lying in an effort to gain his cooperation for gods knew what. Deities weren't above deception after all.

But outside the context of the ballroom, the hall of knives that was the public, he…

"Your kindness is more than I deserve, Lady Yuriko," Zanac admitted, wryly amused at the self-derision welling up within his chest. Judging people through an inherently pessimistic lens was unfair and hypocritical of him, but not doing so in such an unforgiving world was asking to be disappointed. "I'm glad to hear that my sister has made a new friend even in such a perilous situation."

For a moment, he wondered if he should warn her of Renner's true nature. Plant seeds of doubts and flip the table on whatever plots that inscrutable genius had in mind. Create chaos, muddy the waters, prevent his sister in name and blood only from gathering more influence.

Would doing something so useless help him? Re-Estize? Anybody?

Assuming she bothered taking his words seriously, the end result helped no one. Zanac understood it would only be spite for spite's sake—nothing more, nothing less.

"I… I'm sorry you guys have to deal with the whole Baharuth mess," Lady Yuriko shifted her weight. "I wish I could do more, but Drau said it's better to let the situation play itself out, and I don't have any ideas how to 'fix' these problems without making everything worse for everybody."

'So the Draconic Kingdom is fully supporting Emperor El-Nix's gradual takeover,' the prince ignored the affectionate name she used for the Dragon Queen and focused on the meat of the issue. 'Not unexpected since the Empire sent knights to bolster their eastern front, but difficult to accept nonetheless. A lot more unexpected than how she's seemingly happy to fully accept whatever course of action Queen Oriculus is set on.'

"Errr, I mean Queen Oriculus, not Drau," she belatedly corrected herself. "But yeah, I'm really, really sorry. If there's anything else you need—like maybe healing, resurrecting, or other basic stuff," when did defying death become 'basic?' "Then feel free to ask! I've got a long queue and all, but it's the least I can do."

The least for what? Zanac couldn't recall a single deed he performed on her behalf, a single favor or instance of aid rendered that made him deserving of the angel's favor aside from the relation to her 'friend.'

'Renner's way of giving me a gift?' His sister's letter still sat unopened on the table. Goddess the angel might be, but if anyone could predict her behavior, it would be his sister. "I shall keep that offer in mind. And again, thank you."

He didn't know what to think.

Persisting in his skepticism after being shown this much goodwill felt downright insulting. What meaningful purpose would manipulating him, an impotent prince of a stagnating kingdom, serve to accomplish? The Lady of Wings could command respect and obedience without partaking in double-dealing plots.

Wasn't it alright to just accept benevolence for its own sake? Hadn't he just derided himself for the hypocrisy of judging the angel solely from what others said of her?

She could've forced the masses to worship her and had them wholeheartedly thank her for the honor while they were at it.

But she didn't.

And she could've.

Zanac wanted to vomit, not out of disgust or fear or anything like that, but because the woman sitting on the other side was so unsuited for what would be demanded of her.

Because a person this pure had to have a heart of glass, and like glass, it was going to shatter against the fortress wall that was the world.

She was a monster—nothing would ever change his mind on that—but she was a pitiful monster. And well, maybe humanity and the people with no control over their own lives needed a gods-damned monster on their side: one that cared about them or at least pretended to.

Surely, of all things, that was worthy of a reward better than being drawn into schemes conceived from countless, selfish desires.

"No pressure or anything," seeing that he'd nothing else to say, Lady Yuriko awkwardly stood up and needlessly smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles in her white dress. "I'll get going now; an adventurer party wants to chat about… hm. I don't think anybody told me, actually."

Zanac laughed in defiance of his prior caution, temporarily indifferent to how rude he might be coming off as. Alcohol had a way of crippling inhibitions.

The angel crossly glared at him. For some reason, he didn't feel particularly endangered or worried. Friendship and camaraderie it was not; although, perhaps the feeling was closer than it was further.

"A-Apologies, that caught me off guard," he snorted. "I pray it goes smoothly, Lady Yuriko."

" 'Pray…' Everyone is definitely messing with me," she scrunched her mouth to the side in a comical show of displeasure.

"I assure you that is not the case," Zanac lowered his head with all the solemnity he could muster. "My well-wishes are sincere."

Lady Yuriko's face relaxed into a soft expression that suddenly gave him an understanding of how Queen Oriculus had the boldness to dare court the angel. 'People would kill to personally see the Lady of Wings this way, huh?'

He ignored the spine-chilling cold that accompanied the realization. In no world would he have the stomach to pursue the angel's hand, regardless of what he was offered.

"Pfft," she headed in the direction of the door. "Thanks. Anyway, keep me posted, alright?"

The angel waited for him to nod in agreement before returning the gesture and leaving.

Zanac didn't wait for the door to click shut behind her to pour himself out that glass of liquor he'd been eagerly anticipating.

What? Her unexpected visit wasn't going to stop him from getting dead drunk today.


"Amazing…" Renner watched Draudillon rub the formless, azure inferno that was Ryx's head with widened eyes. "May I try, Your Majesty?"

The three of them—Re-Estize's Third Princess, Yuriko, and herself—were currently waiting in the castle's garden at the princess's request. Angels, rather than the incredibly beleagured attendants, had brought out the table, tableware, and umbrella, along with an assortment of sweets and tea that Draudillon made a conscious effort to nibble in moderation.

Yuriko already baked and cooked snacks aplenty. Draudillon had little desire to be mocked as an overweight dragon, and innate physical perks only went so far.

'Petting should be fine. Probably,' she idly stirred her tea while watching Yuriko unenthusiastically sniff the 'leaf' water to Renner's visible consternation. "Of course. He doesn't bite."

He did a lot worse: namely, scorching perceived enemies to ashes. Biting was preferable in comparison. Perhaps not.

The princess slowly stretched her hand out and patted the Ashenbreath Exaltation. Their bright smile grew as she began petting the quadruped angel more confidently. "Waaa, he's so cute!"

"Right?" Yuriko perked up. "Right?!"

'I hope Blue Roses arrive soon,' it wasn't that she felt like a hanger-on, despite how her beloved and the princess got along, but the sooner this meeting was done, the sooner she could go back to relaxing alone with Yuriko. Or more likely, continuing to torture herself with the fine art of foreign diplomacy. "Cute is an… interesting interpretation."

"Ehhh? What would you call Ryx then, Your Majesty?" Renner giggled as solid flames licked her fingers. "I think he likes me!"

'No, that's simply his default passive behavior,' a small surge of jealousy coursed through her. Was she honestly getting annoyed at some stranger getting along with a housepet? "He is a noble creature."

"Drau, but I saw you snuggled up to him like a week ago," Draudillon gritted her teeth and lashed her foot out at Yuriko from under the table. "H-Huh?"

She kicked their shin again. "Oh—uh, ouch?"

Renner appeared confused at the peculiar byplay but didn't comment on it. Good, Draudillon hardly needed more humiliation. "He does look very snuggable, Your Majesty…"

"I, snuggling—forget it," she huffed and slumped back in her chair. Allowing these two to meet had been a mistake. "I'm surprised you have such a close relationship with an adamantite team, Princess Renner."

For the sake of clarity, the human-dominated states always worked closely with the Adventurer's Guild, though said cooperation tended to be fraught with tension. It couldn't be helped, not when adventurers wielded disproportionate amounts of personal power that answered to an extra-governmental agency. What kind of insane ruler would be happy with that arrangement?

Thus, it was bizarre seeing the Third Princess of all royals being on friendly terms with the pinnacle of the Guild's ranks. 'In a way, maybe that makes it easier? A vulnerable member of House Vaiself with a heart of gold is politically safe to associate with.'

"Mm, Lakyus and I go back a little bit," that was reasonable; an esteemed house like Aindra's would inevitably form ties with the royal family. "After that… things just went from there? I don't really know how else to put it, Your Majesty."

"The two of you are good friends then?" The scioness of House Aindra was known to have taken up residence in Re-Estize—putting aside their adventures for the time being. Draudillon still disapproved of how the adventurer blatantly shirked their duty to their homeland, but it was a step up compared to the irresponsibility of their lower-ranked peers. "It's a bit tasteless of me to bring this up, but I've heard Lady Aindra and her companions have paid a number of visits to Valencia."

"Since they decided to stay in the capital for a while, it was a good chance to catch up," Draudillon had a niggling suspicion that critical details were being left out, but let it be. Taking Renner's evasive answer into account, the princess was probably covering up whatever trouble Blue Roses were getting involved with. Her approval of the adventurer party dropped a bit more; what kind of noblewoman dragged royalty, and their friend at that, into shady business? "Ah… she's going to be upset about my political hostage status, isn't she?"

'Did you just now realize that?' Yuriko attracted the airheaded type all too often: Mira, Lydia who was a literal child, hyperactive goblins, and now Renner. "Lady Aindra has had plenty of time to come to terms with the development. I doubt it'll be a permanent arrangement anyhow—by the way, I must have missed the reason why we're convening."

"We're just hanging out," Yuriko shot a confused look at her. "You're kind of an airhead sometimes, Drau."

Wha—

"I don't want to hear that from you, dear."

Yuriko and Renner shared a conspiratorial grin that brought a frown to Draudillon's face. "Suuure."

"Relaxing among friendly company does wonders for one's health, Your Majesty!"

"I am plenty healthy," she scowled and dragged the conversation back to the topic. "Present company aside, when are our visitors due to arrive?"

"They should've arrived by now, Queen Oriculus," Princess Renner shot an apologetic glance towards her. "I don't know what's keeping them. If it's permissible, mayhaps an angel could be sent to check on them?"

"No," Draudillon put down the teacup after a sip. "We're just… how did you say it, Yuriko? 'Hanging out.' Nothing so serious as to warrant angels being deployed."

Her beloved stuck out their tongue in a childish expression and drank their tea in a single gulp, nose crinkling in distaste. "Bleh."

"You don't have to drink it, you know?" The dragon queen gently chided the angel, dismayed at how the expensive blend was going to waste. "I could still ask for fruit juice to be brought over—"

"I've got some right here!" Yuriko brazenly pulled out a colorful pitcher from the Item Box. "I bought it from the beastmen while doing the resurrection stuff."

'That wasn't authorized—' Draudillon promptly put an end to that line of complaints. Was she seriously going to deny them something as trivial as accepting a magic item for payment instead of standard currency? In fact, didn't it reflect poorly on her for failing to account that Yuriko might've wanted to acquire beastmen curios? "Quite a convenient item. How does it taste?"

"Sorta weird, I guess," Yuriko poured a smidgen of the orange fluid into their empty cup. "Wanna try, Drau?"

She accepted the porcelain vessel and sampled the juice. It was a step above what low-tier magic was capable of producing, but doubtlessly inferior to freshly squeezed juice. "Somewhat palatable. Does this item have any limits?"

The angel shrugged, offering some to Renner who politely refused. "Um, a hundred liters per day? I think that's what I was told, but I didn't really test it out. Can't change the taste either."

Even with those limitations, Draudillon was confident the pitcher could easily sell for several gold at the lowest estimate. Magic items capable of providing sustenance that wouldn't make one want to expel their guts were highly desirable. "It's an excellent prize, dear. Choosing this to substitute monetary compensation was wise of you."

"W-Waaa…" Yuriko buried their face in the cup. "Wise is a little…"

"I agree!" Renner clapped her dainty hands together. "You can get gold anywhere, but the same doesn't always hold true for magic items. And with Yuriko's skillset, something as mundane as money isn't hard to accrue."

The dragon queen nodded then noticed the attendant silently waiting from the side of her vision. "I presume our guests saw fit to end our wait, Cerde?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Shall I have them escorted here?"

Draudillon gestured in affirmation, and Cerde bowed before leaving to greet the adventurer party. "As Princess Renner was saying, magic items are often worth more than their weight in gold. On that note, how many did you receive in lieu of payment?"

"Uhhh… only a few," the angel proceeded to dump several items of varying form onto the polished table. "They all taste a lil funky."

' 'Taste,' ' Draudillon sniffed in disbelief. "Are all of them food-related?"

"Yeah? I don't really need the weapons or armor they have, so food made the most sense to get. I got a couple of scrolls too, in case you were wondering," Yuriko reached into one of the artifacts, a woven basket, and took a bite of the conjured sandwich. "Meh."

"We could've used the weapons for our army," Draudillon pointed out. "The majority of the soldiers don't even have proper equipment."

Affording decent gear for sixty-thousand people was difficult when one also had to consider the tributes to foreigners, crisis relief, and a myriad of other expenses piled upon the Draconic Kingdom at the time. Most were outfitted in leather, with steel and the rare piece of enchanted equipment reserved for the martially distinguished.

Yuriko hummed. "I'll make sure to ask some for the next batch of resurrections then."

"Thank you. I appreciate it, dear," she might need to pay another visit to the Beastman Country herself, see what other specialty products could come in handy. There were a few elven druids who had previously been slaves to beastmen, but apart from them and the angels, there wasn't much else enriching agricultural productivity.

Of course, those two counted for quite a bit.

"Beastmen aside—oh, your friends have arrived, Princess Renner," a group of five women dressed in an eclectic array of fine attire approached the three. "Yuriko, we'll shelve this discussion for another time."

" 'Kay~"

"Your Majesty," the blonde at the front, donned in a pink dress and bearing an impressively intricate coiffure, stopped a respectful distance away and curtsied. Ryx drew wary glances from all five, being the intimidating thing he was. "Our thanks for allowing us to impose upon you this day."

"It's no imposition at all, Lady Aindra," Draudillon considered the vaunted Blue Roses. There was a warrior of brow-raising bulk, twins dressed in the fashion of the far-south, and a short woman completely concealed by their red cloak and odd mask. "Sit with us, please—and your comrades as well."

The Warrior Gagaran, whose physical prowess ranked among humanity's highest within the neighboring kingdoms.

Tia and Tina, twin ninjas whose backgrounds were shrouded in mystery.

Evileye, a spellcaster who had reached the Fifth-Tier of magic, inferior to only the Tri-Arts Caster—Yuriko too, Draudillon supposed. Mages ceased to be truly intimidating after she'd met her beloved.

The existence of Super-Tier magic had a way of… reframing perspectives. Not that lower tier magic wasn't impressive; surprising her was just more challenging nowadays.

"By your leave then, Your Majesty."

And then there was Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra, eldest daughter of House Aindra, niece to Red Drop's leader, exalted priestess sworn to the Water God.

Seeing them seated at the same table was a bitter sight. Before, how long had she waited for the party to heed her overtures? How desperately had she petitioned for their aid?

For them to show up now after the need was gone felt like a slap in the face. She couldn't fault their reasoning, fighting off the beastmen was suicide even for adamantite adventurers, but it still—

"I'm Hanami Yuriko!" Her beloved's buoyant self-introduction unraveled that depressing spiral. "But most people just call me Yuriko. It's nice to meet you guys!"

"Most people call you 'Lady' Yuriko," Draudillon dryly added. "But yes, a pleasure to see you all."

"Lakyus! You didn't go to the ball!" Renner pouted, lightly slapping the table with both palms. "Didn't you arrive in Oriculo on time?"

"Erm, no, we got here the day of," Lakyus forcibly laughed while the rest of Blue Roses helped themselves to the bounty of the impromptu tea party. "Our apologies for being tardy by the way; there was a… pyrotechnic mishap at the inn we're staying in.

"Shorty fucked up an enchantment," Gagaran bluntly explained, an unwelcomed one judging by the groan Lakyus released. "You should've seen it, Princess. She was shocked—"

"Damages have already been repaired and compensated for," Evileye—'Shorty,' Draudillon presumed—interjected. "It won't happen again."

"That's what you said last time," the twin in red said through a mouthful of pastry.

"And the time before—" The twin in blue continued after tearing their eyes away from Yuriko. Draudillon frowned; what was that?

"And before—"

"I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness," Lakyus pinched the bridge of her nose with closed eyes. "They're a little energetic from being cooped up on the road."

"Granted. Now, I'm not upset, but it's a tad strange I've heard no reports of a 'pyrotechnic mishap,' " there it was again; the ninja wearing the blue sash—Tia?—was stealing another look at her beloved. "Anyway, you five must have come directly from Re-Estize, no?"

"A short visit to the Scalewing Confederacy aside, yes, Your Majesty," Draudillon raised an eyebrow at Tia, only half-listening to Lakyus. They needed to back off. "We didn't have much in the way of breaks otherwise… As for the mishap, we were able to limit it to our suite, so that might be why Your Majesty hasn't been made aware yet."

"Scalewing Confederacy is the place with the wyvern people, right?" Yuriko swallowed the rest of the sandwich and lazily leaned against Draudillon's shoulder. The dragon queen smiled at the sight for a moment before taking the chance to fire a triumphant smirk at Tia. "We actually have a couple of them visiting the northern cities, so I dunno why they didn't wanna come down for the festival."

"Yeeeah, folks are like that up there," Gagaran crossed her muscular arms while Tia scowled and turned away. Ha. "They usually want to stay out of complicated stuff and stick to their own. The fact that they sent reps at all is damn amazing."

Gagaran grinned at Yuriko. "Guess it takes somebody like you to shove them out their comfort zone."

"R-Right…" Her beloved blushed, grabbing Draudillon's hand underneath the table. The dragon queen squeezed, trying to send comfort and confidence through the action. "Life's been pretty crazy recently."

Lakyus chuckled. "That's undeniable, Lady Yuriko. I dare not suggest Re-Estize's problems are equal to the Draconic Kingdom's, but we've had our fair share of troubles."

'Ah,' Draudillon realized. 'Of course.'

Pure intentions died before those who wielded the authority to reshape the world as they saw fit. Not that she could decry such mercenary behavior; hadn't she benefited the most from Yuriko's strength?

Yet, she wanted to think her situation was different. 'But it's not.'

Yuriko flashed the dragon queen a look of concern and squeezed back in reassurance.

No, she reminded herself—it was different. Because even if the angel could offer nothing, less than nothing, Draudillon would still be perfectly willing to surrender her entire existence to them.

"E-Rantel, our fortress city on the edge of Katze, was despoiled by Zurrernorn a couple months ago," Lakyus clasped her hands together. "A large-scale undead summoning ritual was carried out, and then the Empire came by to 'provide humanitarian aid' after the fact…"

"Um, isn't that a good thing?" Yuriko paused, catching their gaffe. "Not the Zurrernorn stuff, but the humanitarian aid. I'm… really, really sorry to hear about the undead crap. Heard a few people talking, and I—well, I can't help now, but maybe later?"

Draudillon's heart ached; they were too kind. Too concerned with the happiness of others. At least she was able to temper that trait, as hypocritical as restraining 'good' sounded. Yuriko didn't have an infinite amount of themself to give—especially with the free work they demanded to do for the Draconic Kingdom—no matter how badly they wanted to at times.

The angel tapped the sides of their teacup, filled with juice, while the table waited for them to finish. "I'll have to ask for upfront payment though; mana's a bit tight."

"I'll forward your offer to King Ramposa," Lakyus bowed her head. "Your generosity is most appreciated; although, will the temples not seek retribution against the Draconic Kingdom?"

"Eh? Why would they do that?"

Yuriko was utterly mystified, genuinely unaware of why the temples would possibly hold that position.

"Healing services outside their purview infringes on revenue," Draudillon refreshed the angel's memory. "Resurrection isn't a common sacrament, so that's one reason. Not wanting to offend you is another. I remember mentioning these a while ago when we were discussing your worshippers."

"I f-forgot!" Her beloved coughed, a cute little 'ahem' that inflamed a yearning to monopolize. "Martin brought it up too, so I'll definitely get to it this week, Drau! Um, I mean Your Majesty—"

Tia seemed to be holding back a snicker as Tina elbowed her twin in the side.

"Drau's just fine, dear," the dragon queen rested her head atop an open palm. She was growing tired of people interpreting her official declaration of courtship as mere rumor and assuming it couldn't be possible for the 'Goddess' to deign tying themselves to Draudillon Oriculus. Excuses to publicly claim Yuriko were nice, but it'd be nicer if others would accept reality. "Also, you'll find the relevant reports, suggestions, and miscellaneous paperwork on your pillow by tomorrow night."

Gagaran choked on a cookie, mirroring Yuriko's own sputtering while everybody else save for Renner looked on in varying degrees of astonishment and exasperation.

"… I'll leave the details to you and Princess Renner," Draudillon blinked, somewhat nonplussed that a noblewoman like Lakyus would trust the Third Princess over the Re-Estize delegation for negotiating—on second thought, Renner was friends with Yuriko already and the delegation wasn't. "There's a more severe problem at hand."

"And that is?"

The Aindra scioness nodded at Evileye who shuffled in their too-low seat before answering. "From what we gathered, the purpose of the ritual was to accumulate enough negative energy, or rather, build a certain, controlled density within a localized region conducive to maintaining said density in the short term so it can be harnessed—"

Yuriko's eyes were beginning to glaze over.

"—to facilitate one's 'ascension' into an undead, and in this case, lichdom," Evileye gravely completed her explanation, unaware that most of it flew right past the angel. "We ran into the first lich who we believed to be the leader of the cult's local branch; unfortunately, they got away thanks to some warrior who'd been kicking it with them."

"How strong were they?" Draudillon leaned forward. She didn't believe they were anything to fear, but a lich with the intellect to turn themselves into one could be a nuisance depending on the spells in their repertoire. "For them to escape Blue Roses speaks highly of their ability."

"Fifth-Tier," Evileye glumly replied like it was a personal affront to her. "I have a few guesses as to how they could pull off creating an undead army, but nothing confirmed. They were… a Fourth-Tier caster, at the lowest, beforehand."

"Couldn't the undead army've been a bunch of spells instead of a single cast though?" Yuriko curiously asked. "I haven't met anybody here who can cast something that'll summon that many in one go, y'know?"

"That would've been too noticeable," Draudillon doubted it; Re-Estize wasn't a nation known for competency, not for the past… century or so. "I'm sure you're aware of them, but Zurrernorn doesn't exactly have the best reputation. If word got out before they were ready, the Guild would've come down on them hard.

"But anyway, that's all context for the real disaster," Evileye straightened her back. "Fluder Paradyne, Baharuth's Court Wizard, got some funny ideas from this shit and thought he'd have a go at it."

The spellcaster waited for a response.

Draudillon blinked.

Yuriko blinked.

Lakyus sighed.

"Undead hate all life, don't they?" Renner was the one to break the tension. "We haven't heard anything weird happening in the Empire, so maybe, and I've no intention to gainsay Lady Evileye's expertise, a misunderstanding has occurred? Emperor El-Nix certainly hasn't shown any signs of distress."

The dragon queen found herself agreeing: "I assume you have evidence at hand? Even with Blue Roses' reputation, this isn't something we can act on without solid proof."

"Could meet him and cast a detection spell," Tia suggested, clearly directed towards Yuriko. "Confiscate his items—"

"No," Draudillon tiredly rubbed her eyes. "No, no, no. We are not treating someone who you're accusing of being an undead as a common criminal, much less El-Nix's Court Wizard. I rather like keeping my people alive, contrary to arguments otherwise."

"Yeah, and what if he's a nice undead?" Yuriko sagely nodded, the absurdity of the claim baffling all present. "I met one in Katze a month ago, actually."

" 'Nice' undead don't exist," Evileye's cloak shifted, agitation on display even under her cloak. Despite the distasteful tone they replied to her beloved with, Draudillon was grateful they countered the notion of 'nice' undead. "Their innate nature is a hatred for life that colors every thought and action that runs through their rotting mind. The few that hold back just have fixations better satiated with caution—each and every one of them would think nothing of depopulating an entire country if it meant bringing them a step closer to their goals. A 'nice' one is nice until being 'nice' is less worthwhile than repurposing your corpse."

The spellcaster returned to slouching. "Look, I get not wanting to attack somebody when they haven't fucked with you yet. I get it. But take it from a person who's also seen a lot of awful shit happen—leaving an undead alone, giving it time to prepare, extending a chance isn't worth it. Fluder Paradyne was strong before; imagine how much damage he could cause once he's ready for whatever he has in mind next."

"I, that does make sense…"

"I'm not sure," Renner piped up, bolstering the uncertain angel. "She's super strong, Lady Evileye! Starting a fight will probably end up worse for the Draconic Kingdom in the long run, so I think it's important to consider that, yes? Then there's still the issue of evidence lest Yuriko's name be tarnished among the nations."

"Princess, even if she has angels stationed in every major city, teleportation makes capture impossible without getting smacked around. As powerful as your friend is, I sincerely doubt she can trivialize a lich-Fluder."

"She definitely, one-hundred percent, can!" Renner indignantly huffed. "Just being close to an undead will kill them, right Yuriko?!"

The sudden outburst combined with how Renner slapped the angel's shoulder caused juice to dribble out Yuriko's mouth.

"Bwuh?!" Yuriko hurriedly wiped their mouth with the back of their hand. "Wuh—s-sure?"

"Don't exaggerate," Evileye scoffed. "『Turn Undead』won't work on strong undead, even if you're—"

"Yuriko!"

The angel snapped to attention, sitting ramrod straight. "Yes!"

"Turn your aura on!" Renner paused for a second. "Please?"

"Uh, okay?" Yuriko tilted their head, confused with the reasoning behind the request.

Draudillon nodded to herself in approval; a direct showcase of the angel's strength might finally get the spellcaster off their backs. Furthermore, it was an ability the public had already seen and wasn't… unnecessarily flashy. Sort of.

Speaking of which, wasn't Evileye looking somewhat tense? 'Well, spellcasters are overeager when it comes to observing these things.'

Light began to emit from Yuriko's form, a pale gentle glow at first, intensifying as they activated the higher stages, and bolstering the vitality of those nearby—

Evileye hissed in pain as smoke drifted through their cloak and infused the air with smothering intent. The angel immediately deactivated the blessing, but not before the other members of Blue Roses snapped to full alert with weapons in hand.

Everybody went quiet. Everything seemed to go quiet, from the birds to the wind to even the rustling of leaves and grass.

Draudillon winced—she hadn't seen them move at all. Seraphs they were not, but adventurers worthy of being named 'adamantite' bore attributes she couldn't hope to keep pace with. Yes, if they wished to kill her, she'd be dead before her brain could register what happened.

"Sooo…" Yuriko steepled her fingers in a gesture that was hilariously very non-Yuriko. "You're an undead?"

The assassin twins twitched, and Draudillon was glad they had the self-control to have not let their instincts take control. Splattering adamantite adventurers over the walls of Oriculia wasn't a public relations disaster she wanted to deal with, access to resurrection notwithstanding.

"It's complicated," Lakyus grimaced.

"It really isn't," Draudillon barked out a short laugh and rolled her eyes, finally. She didn't care what Blue Roses thought anymore; some insults weren't sufferable. "Lady Evileye, I must commend your bravery. Brazenly marching here to beg us for assistance with your questionable 'lich,' trying to conflate your problems with ours, and showing a willingness to throw the Draconic Kingdom under the wagon when you yourself happen to be an undead… why don't you show your face, hm?"

"Oh yeah?" Evileye ripped off her white mask decorated with only simple black lines and a singular red gemstone. Underneath was the face of a young, red-eyed blonde who couldn't have been older than three-and-ten years. "Hearing that from your mouth is pretty fucking funny, Your Majesty, because weren't you the one pretending to be a brat? Ah, I apologize, because the current person you're bootlicking prefers flopping sacks of fat instead—!"

"The fuck did you say—?!" Yuriko shot to their feet before the dragon queen's hand grabbed their dress and tugged them back down. Ryx was on his paws now; the warm crackling of a comforting fireplace had amplified into a roaring blaze.

She noticed that even in the throes of anger, the angel didn't toggle their aura. 'Cute.'

"Evileye!" Gagaran forcefully pushed the impudent girl's face into the table. "Your Majesty, Lady Yuriko! Please forgive us for speaking out of turn! We're only worried about what that damn lich might do."

Draudillon nonchalantly waved the apology off. She'd heard worse insults whispered behind her back: lesser ones born of baser reasons. In any case, personal attacks lost their sting long ago. "Your resolve is admirable, undeniably worthy of the adamantite rank bestowed upon Blue Roses. I just ask you five to understand our kingdom's position as well. Moving against Fluder—Emperor El-Nix and Baharuth by extension—isn't a fight we'll initiate based on suspicions of what the Court Wizard might do. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Your Majesty," Lakyus put away Kilineiram but kept a wary eye on the pair of angels. "We'll leave immediately if our continued presence causes trouble."

"Do so at your leisure. This is a time of celebration for the kingdom after all, and visitors are more than welcome," she patted Yuriko's thigh, praying this would be the height of today's excitement. "Besides, you have catching up to do with a friend, yes?"

"I'll show them around, Your Majesty," she nodded at Renner's offer. "Lakyus, let's head elsewhere, shall we?"

Blue Roses as a whole rose alongside the princess, bowing together before making to follow Renner out the garden.

The spellcaster took a few steps, stopped, and swirled around to face Yuriko. "You've got power. Don't waste it by limiting yourself to a single kingdom like everybody else ends up doing—"

"Bitch, you really still wanna talk shit?" Her beloved cursed with uncharacteristic coarseness while the fire that constituted Ryx's body flared past the gaps in his plated armor.

Evileye fearsomely—pft, 'fearsomely'—scowled and turned away, crimson cloak swirling like some miniature dervish of blood. Soon enough, the party of six was out of sight.

'I shouldn't laugh at her…' Draudillon had at one time walked in their shoes, so she figured she understood some of the trials the spellcaster faced due to their physical stature. They'd apparently joined Blue Roses after losing a match, the details of which most everybody wasn't privy to, so she didn't think there was any foul play occurring within the adventurer team. "An undead within the ranks of the famed Blue Roses. They're quite protective of her too."

"I don't like her," Yuriko leaned back, the front legs of their chair lifted off the ground. "Walking up to somebody else and being bitchy 'cause they don't fall over for you, seriously…"

"In Evileye's defense, it's a pressing concern she has no way of addressing," she airily commented. "Her and her comrades must be feeling rather helpless for once."

"Yeah, well, whatever."

Draudillon raised a flaky jam-stuffed pastry to Yuriko's mouth. "It bothered you a lot."

"Yeff," Yuriko's mouth plucked the entire treat out of her hand. "Shu'er 'ra'ee."

"Dear, please close your mouth."

The angel swallowed the half-chewed baked good. "Is this also what you meant last night by 'being used to this sorta thing?' "

"People usually aren't so enthusiastic," she chuffed while feeding her beloved another pastry. "The most profitable missions tend to be given by those with the funds to pay for them; thus, adventurers will typically try to avoid offending authorities to their faces.

"Speaking of which, we'll need to implement some countermeasures for a potential lich just in case," Draudillon wiped Yuriko's mouth with a napkin. "You can't construct permanent wards, correct?"

"Nope," the angel confirmed. "I can focus on summoning detection angels for now, but it'll be a while 'cause there's a whole kingdom to cover. Plus, if he's that strong, Empyrean Flockwatchers aren't gonna cut it, and it's either those or Gatekeepers."

"Hmm…" If a Sixth-Tier wizard had a minimum of thirty-six levels dedicated to their field of spellcasting, then a level twenty-five summon wasn't going to be able to reliably foil their disguises, no matter how specialized the angels were. At most, the Flockwatchers would detect someone was present, but considering they were watching large population centers… "So unless he's an absurdly skilled illusionist—by your standards—the Flockwatchers can detect his presence."

"They can, but that's it. Assuming he uses level appropriate concealment spells or whatever items, he'll look the same to them as any normal person."

"Don't bother then," Draudillon decided. "Instead, we'll take some of the summons working on the road through Shatterstone and shuffle them closer to the heartlands. Would you say that's feasible?"

"Depends on how many we wanna move," she nibbled on the spoonful of cake Yuriko held up to her. "It's a place that's dangerous everywhere, so construction has to slow down if there's not enough to properly cover all the workers."

"Acceptable. I'll discuss the details with the nobles managing the project. As for where exactly the angels should go… try to even out the distributions among our cities. Oriculo, Mohajar, Caldevera, and Almersia don't need extra. Also, I'm thinking of asking the noble houses to keep an eye out—the general masses shouldn't have to fall prey to paranoia as well."

"M'kay."

The dragon queen laid a hand over her beloved's. "You're troubled. Something Evileye said?"

She trusted the undead spellcaster about as far as she could throw them—okay, that wasn't the best comparison—but they had hit a sore spot of the angel's with their words.

"I mean, yeah. A little bit," Yuriko admitted. "It was really annoying, the way she talked about you."

"Maybe," Draudillon hummed, secretly happy they got upset on her behalf. It was—a silly feeling, but pleasant nonetheless. "But it's more than just that."

"… what she said about wasting my power. I know there's a lot of good I'm doing here, but the idea that there's more I could be doing feels…" They plopped their head atop Draudillon's hand, gaze meeting hers "I dunno. Like, Slane has a bunch of slaves, the Beastman Country also does, Renner says Re-Estize has… stuff going on, and y'know, just a lot of people barely scraping by 'cause they were born in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Yuriko closed their eyes, twin suns setting over rosy, alabaster horizons. "I just dunno."

"I've said this before, but you're not responsible for all the world's ills," but such a sentiment couldn't comfort them. "You know, with the kingdom on the route to recovery for the most part, we could find a couple side projects."

"Sounds hard," the angel mumbled. "Scary. Messing up means a ton of people die. Not messing up might—"

"You're not alone," she put an end to that train of thought. "Whenever you feel lost, you can always come to me, Martin, Mira, the friends you've made—we'll figure out solutions together, okay?"

"Okay," Yuriko smiled: half tired, half genuine gratitude. "Thanks Drau."

"Remember the invitation Berenice gave us?" Draudillon continued. "We can start there, open talks. Slane's leadership is hardly as fanatical as their populace, so I'm certain they'd be receptive to negotiations regarding this topic. I'll schedule a visit after we do a circuit throughout the entire kingdom, but if you'd rather we go to the Theocracy first, we can."

"After is fine. I don't wanna miss problems here at home," her heart ached with fondness. "Because I was too worried about somewhere far away."

"Admirable of you," she light-heartedly teased them in response. The pair basked in each others' warmth for a while longer before Yuriko broke the snug silence:

"Also, um, Martin said you had to meet people tonight. Don't you have to go prepare, Drau?"

"Actually, I was thinking we'd wander the city tonight," Draudillon stroked her beloved's hair. This much was worth a scolding from Martin, and she was confident the Prime Minister could formulate a passable excuse. "Unless you've already made plans?"

"P-Plans?!" Yuriko squeaked. Seeing them this flustered even after being involved with her in far more intimate manners set the dragon queen's pulse aflame. "No! I, I don't have any plans! Uh, that is, now I have a plan because—since you asked!"

"Attendant, have these returned to where they came from," Cerde, who had remained still and quiet from their return until now, bowed while the dragon queen gestured at the table. "We'll be leaving."

Yuriko stared at the calm attendant with increasing horror. "Wait, she was there the whole time?"

"Mhm."

"And… and you… uwaaa…"

Draudillon laughed.