Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

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Well, not exactly.

First off, the Four Great Nations in the Human Dominion aren't represented by their elemental alignment. If you squint your eyes really hard then Latias Kingdom might be the Fire Nation since their national symbol is a Fire Dragon. The Harkelan Empire is more Ice than Water. The Zetel Sultanate has a lot of deserts while the Free People Coalition has more mountains in its territories. So between the two which is Air and which is Earth?

The Fire Kingdom and the Ice Empire have never been in harmony since Latias split from Harkelan. The former fought to protect its independence and the latter fought to subdue a rebellion. Both sides feel their cause is just. Sure, there might be a few years of silence when both sides are tired of war, but it is only temporary until they amass sufficient strength to kill each other again.

In the stories, it is often depicted that the ‘Kingdom’ represented Good while the ‘Empire’ represented Evil. While I know from history that the Latias Kingdom isn't always fighting a defensive war in their borders, the Harkelan Empire did launch an invasion without warning this time so just like when two kids fight, the one who threw the first punch is the one at fault, the Empire is at the lower end of the moral high ground.

And Viers could see it in their eyes, the fervor of the Latias people around the table as they discussed their plans of attack.

Viers wished he could call it a war room, but a war barn was more fitting since they gathered inside a barn out of the city proper, right outside of Ciel’s mom’s barrier. The building was used to store hay for the nearby domesticated cows. The Pathseekers commandeered this facility since the original owners were nowhere to be found. Safely evacuated, hopefully.

“...It was in this great War Barn that the fate of the dukedom and the kingdom itself would be decided.”

“Master?” Boram questioned his Master’s sudden murmur.

Viers shook his head. “No matter how cool I try to spin it, it still sounds silly.”

The occupants consisted some of the 16 Grand Prix teams that were completing their Round 3 task, the duke’s vassals who followed them as official observers and referees for each team like Tinade, and the local guards and knights who happened to be nearby.

Not all 16 teams were present, some fell behind in their tasks and their location was still ways away from Gryphon’s Reach, the finish line. However, more than half of the 16 teams were here including all the strong ones.

The war barn itself was on fire. The people spoke as if they had a lump of burning coal in their bellies, with fiery enthusiasm. They had a heated discussion about what they should do. They were all in alignment with wanting to strike back at the Harkelan Empire and their flying fortress. The question was how they would do it.

Like a many-headed beast but with one body, each head wanted to do things their way. Their own strategies, their own objectives, or their own glories.

For these young, capable, talented, individuals with strong personalities, reaching a consensus seemed to take time, even with a real invasion in front of them.

Too many cooks spoil the broth.

Viers was happy standing on the side, leaning on a wall with his back with his arms crossed, he let Croix and Ciel cook. Not that he would have the right to voice his opinion anyway, not with his vassal status as Avel. Strength-wise he was not impressive either, since he was back pretending to be a Level 3.

The ones that could come to the strategy table and give their opinion were limited to the royals or the few Level 4s present. There wasn't a rule about it or anything but it was like an unspoken agreement: the commoners followed the nobles’ leadership, and the lower-rank nobles followed the higher-rank.

Latias’ aristocratic roots were strong, something that he experienced firsthand in Ciel’s story arc just yesterday.

With such thought in mind, Viers observed there were five royals whose voices mattered.

Prince Lutz, the oldest prince that entered the Grand Prix. His character trait was the burn mark that covered half of his face, superstitious, and risk-averse.

Besides him were Prince Cassian and Prince Vadym. These two princes were always competing and always fighting against each other at every opportunity. Cassian was a fearsome tamer with multiple Rank 4 Deva monsters and Vadym was a formidable warrior that could rival Cassian’s full strength. There were whispers that Vadym was deep in bed with the underworld figures and unsavory cults.

The last two were Prince Croix and Princess Celestine, the twin rising stars because of their dragons, one red and one black. These two young legends, along with their high performance in the Grand Prix, garnered a lot of support... Or so Viers thought. The two also had a lot of skepticism thrown their way. Croix wasn't quite royal-like in his views and Celestine was a woman who tried to be the first Queen of the traditionalist Latias Kingdom. The old guards and old-timers didn't like what their ascension would mean to their position.

As for which royal was closest to the throne, it got weird.

Despite being the oldest, Lutz’s performance and strength as a Pathseeker were a bit short compared to the other younger four. Cassian and Vadym were the strongest and had a lot of noble clout while the dragons of Croix and Celestine gave them the tailwind called legend and legitimacy. However, all four were quite radical so Lutz’s steady disposition and mild hands got the support of the conservatives.

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All five were quite even at this stage. Then again, Viers didn't know how the princelings would get the crown. By winning the Grand Prix? By having the most supporters among the people like Fantazio? Could it even work in this setting? Viers thought sooner or later there would be blood spilled. Politics were weird and Viers couldn't wrap his head around them. There were also the rest of the noble houses and the Chancellor faction and whatever else that filled the gap during the years when the throne was empty. Frankly put, Latias was a political clusterfuck at this point.

Viers wondered why Harkelan took this long to invade. If it was him, he would have done it ages ago.

Unless... something recently changed? Perhaps I should look into it once things settle down a bit.

For now, the Harkelan invasion put a pause on the princelings' power struggle.

The strategy meeting continued while Viers’ thoughts wandered. Besides the five royals, Ciel was at the table. Not only because she was a Level 4, she was the heir of House Valentine, the duchy that was being invaded right now. Tinade was acting as her aide and giving information when required since Ciel was out of touch with her family for a long time.

While the strategy was gradually taking form, the situation outside had changed.

The three flying fortresses were still battering the barrier with an ice storm, but that was not all. The Harkelans had boots on the ground for a land invasion too. Whether they came from the flying fortress or on foot from their homeland, the fact was there was now an army gathering near the city. There were about five hundred, but most of them seemed to be Level 3. In response, the duchy manned their walls to halt their progress. The fighting had not yet begun.

The weather wasn't ideal but Viers liked it.

Winter was half a year away but the temperature was similar. It was late morning and the clear sky from earlier was no more. There were black, rolling clouds in the sky instead.

Above the clouds, the Duke and the Empire’s Level 5 clashed while the ambient mana surged.

The city’s barrier looked like a slightly transparent dome with a warm glow, standing strong amidst the destructive hail, maintained by the duchess’ powers. The city and its surroundings were blanketed with thick mists and light snow was falling.

“It is as if we’re before a storm,” Viers said as he watched the weather. “How fitting.”

“Or blizzard,” said Clarissa as she stood beside Viers, looking at the proud city of Gryphon’s Reach. “The climate is too cold for me.”

“Go ahead and make a big fire, preferably on top of the enemies’ heads.”

“Oh, I plan to. Not participating in the strategy meeting?” Clarissa asked.

“The strategy doesn't matter to me. In the end, we’re going up there, won't we? I just gotta do what I gotta do, as efficiently as possible. Besides, I'm just Croix’s vassal.”

Viers turned around. “Ladies,” Viers dipped his head in a greeting to his four companions: Farley, Clarissa, Paina, and Sakuya. They were all wearing white masks to hide their faces. Among the 16 teams, they were the most mysterious but not to Viers. “Meet any trouble?”

He asked because they seemed to have been through a battle from the state of their outfit.

“We were attacked by one of those things at Bartolios, a city some klicks east from here,” Farley replied. “We did what we could for the civilians then followed the fortress here.”

“Same circumstances as ours,” Viers nodded.

Paina and Sakuya waved a hand for the greeting. Boram replied with the same. He knew who they were. The interaction wasn't odd because they were fellow Grand Prix participants but both sides made sure to not be seen as chums in the eyes of others. It would be suspicious if Avel the vassal and the mysterious Team White acted buddy-buddy.

Incidentally, Farley’s alias for the Grand Prix was White Swan, Paina’s was White Song, Clarissa’s was White Snake, and Sakuya’s was White Bloom.

Shortly after their meeting, the strategy meeting by the leaders seemed to have concluded. All in all, it was less than one hour.

Croix and Ciel approached, not expecting Team White’s presence. After a brief greeting, since Croix’s manner had always been good, they touched the meat of the matter and elaborated on the agreed strategy. Viers just nodded and smiled.

“Team White, is it alright if we assume your being here means you’ll fight with us?” Croix asked with hope.

The girls looked at each other and nodded at the team leader, Farley. Representing the group, Farley spoke.

“Yes, Your Highness Prince. However, we’ll fight at our discretion. I hope it is permissible.”

“Wonderful,” Ciel clapped her hands. “There will be plenty of enemies to fight. Having you four with us is a great boon. Please don't worry, House Valentine will not shortchange her allies who came to her aid. I will personally secure your rewards.”

“That does sound nice,” Farley wryly smiled under the mask.

“Extra coin never hurts,” Paina chuckled.

“I may be a Prince but I cannot speak for Latias Kingdom but I will remember this grace you saw fit to give,” Croix’s eyes landed on Viers and Boram next. “All of you.”

“Friends from near and far, lend me your ears–”

Suddenly, Prince Lutz made a before-battle speech. Prince Cassian and Vadym’s faces showed they didn't like it but that didn't stop their older half-sibling. The speech served its purpose, raising their morale.

“Warriors! Make your preparations. We’ll leave within the hour,” Prince Lutz stepped down.

“...Brother Lutz already said what I wanted to say. I’ve got to power up Falmerion so, excuse me first,” Croix smiled.

“I have to coordinate with Master Tinade,” Ciel said and extended her fist. “Everyone, we’ll beat the Harkelans back to their frozen wasteland!”

“Count on it,” Viers gave her a fistbump and Boram followed suit. So did Team White, with Sakuya being last. She wasn't familiar with the gesture being the foreigner she was.

After Ciel went away from the group, she was intercepted by Theus. The descendant of the Duke of Mercea conveyed his sympathy to Ciel with too much flattery.

Viers didn't like the way Theus looked at Ciel. It was the eyes of someone plotting something. Viers would know because he had the same eyes most of the time.

Theus liked Ciel and was jealous of him, it was easy to deduce. Sadly, the guy did not yet know that Ciel had married herself to Viers just yesterday night. Viers wondered if he told the guy, would he puke blood like the characters in xianxia novels?

Whatever the case, they had a score to settle.

“...Boram, your killing intent is slipping,” Viers warned his young disciple next to him.

“...Apologies, Master.”

It seemed Boram was thinking the same thing as him. It was time for Theus to have an unfortunate accident. The Harkelan invasion force had kindly provided the opportunity.

A sky burial, eh? Almost too good for you, Theus.

“We’ll excuse ourselves too. May you have good fortune in battle, Mr. Avel, Mr. Boram,” said Farley.

“Farley,” Viers reached out using telepathy. “I have a role for you to play.”

“Yes? Want me to deal with that young master guy?”

“Leave that to me and Boram. I want you to enact a grand opening of our counterattack, a play that can only be played by you.”

“...Is this for one of your episodes?”

“Hehehe, you know me so well. But don't make it sound like a defect. It’s fun and I want to share the fun with you.”

“I’m flattered. What do you want me to do?”