Everyone understood the implications of what was being said.

To reiterate: the Von Heim family was powerful and ancient, so much so, that many of its own members were unable to tell just how deep its influence truly went. A strange situation, no doubt, but also a frightening one.

It was precisely because of this reputation that a regular report to the Jade Tower—one based only on deductions and witnesses with no concrete evidence—would never have enough weight to mobilise the enforcers.

Such a thing would be dismissed outright.

Before it could ever be taken seriously, the person making such a report must equally have a reputation that could not be ignored.

And that person, that elusive figure, was the fresh trail Selaphiel hoped to seize.

The captain of the group, however, knew that he could not simply reveal the names of his informants. To do so would risk civil unrest in the kingdom. It could even lead to a whole war.

Yet could he really reject Selaphiel's request, when they were standing here, in the heart of the Von Heim manor itself?

"What to do, what to do"

He slowly pondered his options when...

"Greyford."

A single word. Spoken plainly.

Everyone else was momentarily thrown off.

Selaphiel blinked, her focus immediately sharpening.

Her gaze snapped to the one who had spoken: a young-looking woman with a cool countenance, human. Short cropped hair framed her face. A plain white shirt, long trousers neatly tucked into boots.

She looked out of place in an action squad, yet she sat steady, drifting her green eyes across the room before letting them settle directly on Selaphiel.

"Does that answer your question?"

She asked.

The elf in question repeated the word in her mind. Greyford. House Greyford?

It all clicked.

The room turned eerily silent, not naturally, but as a subconscious manifestation of Selaphiel's magic. The hum of the manor seemed to vanish, leaving a hollow stillness in its place.

She mumbled to herself, but in the void of sound it resounded as clear as a bell.

"Once beaten, twice shy, three times a fool. So the Greyfords take me for a fool, do they?"

Now, naturally, Lugh had never heard the name Greyford in his life. But he didn't need to.

From the stiffened shoulders, the sideways glances, the tightening of jaws, it was clear there was a history here. And from the looks of it, not a pleasant one.

"Ginger, what have you done!"

The shout came from the elven squad leader. His voice rang sharp, tinged with anger and disbelief.

'Ginger?'

Lugh thought, frowning, as he realised the petit woman was the one being addressed.

It was fair to say he was surprised when, instead of backing down, she rose to her feet and spoke directly to her leader.

"What I've done,"

She said, steady but heated,

"Is save us from being tortured until we eventually reveal everything anyway—because it literally has nothing to do with us. So yes, I just saved everyone here a few extra steps. Unless, of course, you don't believe they—"

She flung her arms wildly toward the Von Heim elves

"—are capable of doing anything to us."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Well—stunned wasn't the right word for everyone. Amused was more accurate for a good number of those present. Some exchanged quiet, knowing glances.

The elven squad leader simply glared at Ginger, but he gave no reply. He didn't have to.

In the next moment, the boisterous, scarred, tattooed, thug of a priest turned on his heel.

His heavy boots struck the floor as he spoke.

"I don't know about you, but I have no interest in being part of… whatever game is at play here. So I'll be taking my leave now."

Then he halted, turning to fix his gaze on someone.

"Or do you have any objections… again, Selaphiel?"

He drawled out her name, just as he had earlier, but the woman paid him no heed. She answered indifferently.

"No. If anything, I'd be glad if you got your miserable self out of my home."

He sneered, but without another word walked out. Another followed him, and then another.

Soon enough, all the enforcers slowly evacuated the grand manor, their footsteps echoing faintly in the halls.

No one saw them off. There were other things to be done.

Selaphiel spoke first.

"How much manpower do we have on ground?"

Seraphina responded, arms loosely crossed.

"Last I heard from Sid… he was supposed to be here already."

Selaphiel frowned, but she did not dwell on that subject.

"Anyone else? Claris? May?"

Siegfried shook his head. Seraphina simply shrugged.

Selaphiel exhaled, her expression darkening.

"Is there nobody present in this entire kingdom?!"

Seraphina, after a moment's hesitation, said,

"Well… have you checked the dungeons?"

Lugh shot a questioning look at his older sister, Sela. His eyes seemed to say many words at once.

Dungeons? Which dungeons? Our dungeons?

She looked equally bewildered, replying only with a shrug and a small shake of her head.

At that point, Selaphiel's voice cut across their silent exchange as she spoke loudly.

"Jahira, Lance, you two are with me. Zhou—"

"What?"

The tall elf of the Cross family snapped instantly.

"I'm not part of any of this. My last name is not Von Heim. Don't drag me into your mess."

Selaphiel pursed her lips, considering, then spoke.

"You're right. Things will get dangerous."

She paused deliberately.

"We wouldn't want anything to happen to your precious granddaughter, now would we?"

Zhou's eyes widened. Beside her, Jahira shifted, visibly uncomfortable.

"You—you—"

Zhou stammered, unable to find words strong enough to describe the villainy before her.

But Selaphiel didn't wait. She turned and began moving, fully confident that Zhou would have no choice but to follow.

Then she stopped. An important thought crossed her mind. She turned immediately toward Xhi, who only flashed her a smile in return.

This one was a problem. A really big one.

The priestess spoke first, her voice laced with amusement.

"Oh? Are you going to blackmail me too? Or would you try to make another deal?"

Deal?

Selaphiel scoffed inwardly. Although she wanted to keep this woman away from Lugh, she wasn't foolish enough to keep such a dangerous figure by her side when real combat might be looming.

The threat of betrayal was too real—and in this case, it wouldn't even be a backstab. They had never been on the same side to begin with.

After a moment of thought, she reached her decision.

"Zhou. On second thought, you should stay back. Keep an eye on the kids for me."

The Zhou in question was stunned speechless.

She didn't get the chance to protest—Selaphiel was already gone.

Siegfried followed behind. Seraphina… simply vanished.

…

The loud blare of heavy engines sent thick columns of smoke rolling into the skies.

The docks, normally alive with scurrying workers and shouted orders, seemed strangely subdued in that moment.

It was still loud, no doubt, but the usual rhythm of the harbor had faltered. Every face was turned, every neck craned, toward the leviathan that had come to dock.

A beast of iron. A floating fortress.

"Holy hell… they've really done it."

A man muttered in Heiro. Nobody else would have understood even if he had shouted, for Heiro was not the national tongue—save for the small knot of similarly dressed kinsmen around him.

Written in bold letters across the vessel's flank was its name:

King Conrad I.

It would seem this new class of battleship—their hosts called it a "Dreadnought"—shared the name of their very first emperor.

"How fitting,"

Another man muttered in Heiro.

These men from Heieg—emissaries, ambassadors, whatever one wished to call them—had a mission. And with this display of force, their enthusiasm to succeed only grew sharper.

Together, they arranged their finest diplomatic smiles as they were approached by officials—men and women dressed in practical finery, stylish but suited for work.

"What do you think? Impressive, isn't it?"

"Very."

A representative from Heieg replied fluently in their mother tongue. He extended a hand. The official took it, and they shook firmly.

"With such marvellous machines in your naval fleet,"

The envoy continued,

"I fear it's only a matter of time before you stand unopposed as rulers of the seas."

"Bahaha! You have a silver tongue. I didn't expect the Oasis Warden to be as shrewd as us. Hahaha!"

"Surely you jest,"

The representative chuckled, though his eyes sharpened. He pressed on.

"But truly—a shame these Dreadnoughts are only now being fielded. Otherwise, the title 'Conquerors of the Devil Sea' would have gone to the Isles of Rivera, instead of… our neighbours."

The official's eyes glinted, but he replied with only an awkward chuckle.

"Well. It is what it is."

'No bite, huh,'

The diplomat thought, sighing internally. This was going to be a long weekend.

But before that—

He turned his head toward a large box wrapped in black cloth. His lips curved into a smile.

"We brought gifts."

A/N:

I've been grievously sick for the past few weeks.

It grew worse in recent days and I didn't know if I'd make it. Writing was honestly the least of my concerns.

I'm much better now, and updates will return to normal.

1 chapter a day, 1500 words a chapter. Stay tuned.