They needed to go.

I first received the news about what had happened in Quel'thalas from Dungeon Master 10. It was then that I devised a plan of action. To be fair, this plan wasn’t entirely spontaneous; it was an amalgamation of strategies I’d been brewing for some time.

After thinking it through, I decided it was best to keep the audience limited—not because I didn’t trust my fellow Dungeon Masters, but because I believed some of them were less adventurous than I was.

As adventurous as I was, I understood there were lines that should not be crossed. That’s why I left the final decision—whether to proceed with my bold plan or adopt something less ambitious—to Dungeon Master 00. Deep down, I knew I sought his endorsement for my plan, and he gave it. While I’d like to think it was because my plan was reason or at worse due the bond we’d formed over years spent together, I knew better. That realization made me feel worse about myself than I cared to admit. As Dungeon Cores, we were stripped of emotions and sensations—only greed endured. Without a doubt, his approval stemmed from the gains I promised my ambitious plan would deliver.

I share a history, albeit brief and strained, with the Argyrian Patriarch. About a century and a half ago, just a few years after Goblin invested the required points into the Blood Elemental Subaffinity, he manifested an Ancestral Tree. Despite our efforts to remain discreet, the Argyrion Patriarch somehow learned of its existence. We were testing the limits of this sigil in a region bordering the Aurian family's territory when he descended upon us.

My pride screamed at me to protect the tree and not surrender it, but reason dictated otherwise. Ultimately, I handed it over in exchange for us to be allowed to walk away. It was a humiliation neither Goblin nor I would ever forget, and it earned the Argyrian Patriarch a spot on my personal list of those I vowed to see dead—alongside Cleon, and the Seraphims.

For the past 150 years, I have been plotting ways to reclaim what was Goblin's, which naturally involved taking him down. Yet, I had never crafted a relatively "foolproof" plan—until recently.

When I learned, through the freshly slain Dungeon Master 10, that the Argyrion Patriarch had once again interfered with us—this time taking far more than just an Ancestral Tree—I understood that it was no longer a time for mere plotting but for decisive action.

The plan I devised drew heavily from previous schemes that had never come to fruition. To confront the Argyrion Patriarch and emerge victorious, I needed to level the playing field. This meant either becoming a monarch like him or crippling him to deny access to his monarch advantages—an obstacle I saw as the greatest challenge to overcome. While I wished the first option could become a reality, I’ve come to accept that it won’t. Thus, I was left with the latter choice: crippling the Argyrion Patriarch.

How do I achieve that? Simple really.

As a monarch, his subjects were his lifeblood, his endless source of energy. Even if I managed to vastly overpower him, a fight without cutting him off from his reserves would be akin to battling a creature with limitless self-healing. The only viable strategy was to sever his connection to his subjects.

Several plans came to mind. One, which would have undoubtedly pleased Goblin, was to lure the Argyrion Patriarch away from his domain and lay waste to his capital. However, such an endeavor required critical components: a compelling lure to draw him far enough away to delay his response, sufficient firepower to dismantle the barriers he would surely leave behind, and the strength to annihilate his subjects. While the last element seemed straightforward to secure, the first two would have posed significant challenges—if circumstances had been different. Fortunately, with what happened in Quel'thalas, I didn’t need a lure. He was already away from his capital, and in his maddened state, he had left it entirely unprotected. This gave us the perfect opportunity to cripple the monarch by severing him from his subjects.

This revelation made things easier for us. Yet, as I considered the situation in Quel'thalas, I rapidly realized there was an even smarter approach to dealing with the Argyrian Patriarch—one that didn’t involve the extermination of the Argyrian family. Eliminating them would be a waste of resources when the entire Argyrian population could be put to better use. But for that to work, I needed one simple thing: Bent knees.

***

"Was Lee ever a choice to you?" she asked.

Sitting on what was most likely one of the Argyrian Patriarch personal sofas, I took a bite of a berry from a nearby plate. "You were saying?" I asked Aquaflora, who was seated across from me.

"I was thinking about everything you’ve done, and there’s something I’ve only just realized. Was it ever within your plan to establish Lee as the patriarch of the Argyrian family?"

"Hmm." I mused, taking another bite from the plate of fruits. "What makes you think that wasn’t the case?"

"Your insistence that I tag along, despite being a mere nobody to you. There was also the the fact that you forced to level up in these woods, and last but not least, the fact that you’ve constantly driven home how much of a terrible patriarch Lee would make—"

"—leading you to ultimately suggest taking over the role of monarch yourself. Did I get that right?" I interrupted.

She nodded. "You do realize that you’re basically accusing me of grooming and manipulation, don’t you?" I said calmly, plucking another fruit from the plate. "Well, I think you know me well enough to understand that I’d be capable of that. But no, you weren’t just a pawn for me to move around. Well, actually," I corrected with a slight chuckle, "I’d be lying if I said you weren’t. We all are, in some sense. But you, specifically, were a piece that got involved midway through the game."

A glance at her revealed that she wasn’t satisfied with my vague analogy, so I clarified. "No, I didn’t plan on involving you in all of this. I only needed you for one thing: to be our voice to the Umbryan Patriarch."

*I also needed you as bait for Alexander, but that truth is best left untold. *

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Chuckling at the irony, I added, "You know, the laughable part is that I had no plan to involve you beyond that point. Guess what made me change my mind?"

"When I told you I was once a monarch," she answered quickly.

Grimacing, I nodded. "But let’s set the record straight—I absolutely planned everything from that moment on."

"So you’re not even going to deny it?" Aquaflora asked.

"Why would I?" I replied unapologetically.

Aquaflora sighed. "And what would you have done if I hadn’t proposed taking over his role myself?"

"I would have suggested it to you."

"And if I had refused?"

From what I’d seen of her, refusal was never a real possibility. She only needed a little nudge to make the suggestion herself. "Well, hypothetically, if you’d refused, we would have gone through with our initial plan: subjugating the Argyrian family by full force."

"Isn’t that what you already did that night?"

"No, trust me—that was nothing compared to what I had in mind." My words made her shudder, so with a smile that tried its best to be reassuring, I added, "Don’t worry. That was only a plan I was confident we wouldn’t need to use. To be frank, I didn’t want to resort to it—it would have been needlessly bloody--for what reason? Because Goblin doesn’t have what it takes to keep a proper leash on the Argyrian family. I’m truly glad we didn’t come to that."

"Are you trying to make me feel like this was the better outcome?"

"Do you think it isn’t?"

Faced with the question, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Instead, she mused aloud, "...So, he can’t manifest an Ancestral Tree?"

"Lee? Well, yes. Specifically, he wouldn’t be able to manifest one of the elemental affinity."

Manifesting an Ancestral Tree required two things: first, investing 90 affinity points into one subaffinity, and second, ensuring that no Ancestral Tree had already been manifested from that subaffinity. Once a sigil was manifested, the subaffinity became "locked".

In Goblin’s case, he had manifested a tree from an elemental subaffinity, which the Argyrian Patriarch had stolen. Though he had points in other subaffinities, none could manifest an ancestral tree from an elemental subffinity. Even if they could, he likely wouldn’t risk it after what happened with the last one.

"...So I really was the only viable alternative," Aquaflora murmured, her blue eyes alight with a unique and stubborn determination.

I chuckled. "Trying to use that against us? Not a bright idea—and it’s certainly not something a friend would do."

"A friend..." Aquaflora echoed, staring at me with a complicated expression.

It was then that Blondie entered through the curtained doorway, announcing, "Everything is ready, Ma’am, Miss Aquaflora."

"Thanks," I said to Blondie before turning to Aquaflora. "You heard that?"

She nodded bitterly. Standing before her, I looked down at the crown she held. "Elven monarchs don’t typically wear crowns, but since you’re technically not a monarch yet, you’re going to need this," I said, showing her the crown.

It was a silver crown gleaming with a cool, polished luster, its surface intricately wrought into elegant filigree. Small aquamarine gems were embedded evenly along its circumference, each framed by delicate scrollwork. At the center, a large diamond stood out, its subtle brilliance blending into the silvery sheen of the crown.

"I thought about engraving your family emblem onto it, but I wanted your opinion first. What do you think?"

"I think my family wouldn’t have wanted to be involved in all of this."

"You’re sure?" I mused, pausing before adding, "Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t, then." I placed the crown on Aquaflora’s head, straightened it, then gestured toward the entrance Blondie had come through. "Now then, shall we?"

Aquaflora sighed but obliged, striding toward Blondie. I followed close behind as she moved past her, stepping through the doorway Blondie had entered. Beyond it lay a balcony overlooking a crowded plaza. The circular expanse was packed with a restless crowd, kept at bay by a perimeter of "guards." In the center of the clearing, six elves bound by ethereal chains knelt, their bloodied and grime-streaked clothes clinging to them. Their heads were bowed—not in submission, but in defiance. Behind them stood an adult Goblin, Licht, and Bortz, all ready and waiting.

I glanced at Goblin, who tilted his head up toward me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I returned the smile before shifting my gaze to Aquaflora. She gripped the railing, her knuckles white, and I could feel the hesitation radiating from her.

"I think they’re waiting for you," I said softly, nodding toward the silent, watching audience.

Aquaflora pressed her lips into a thin line and gave the faintest nod, accompanied by a low, "I know."

She took a deep breath before launching into her address. "Dear brethren, brothers and sisters, your patriarch—the monarch of the Argyrian elves—is dead. Some of you may disagree with this statement, claiming that he lives. But if that were true, where is he? Neither he nor his Ancestral Tree—the symbol of his might and permanence—was there to protect you from the tragedy that befell our capital."

She paused, scanning the crowd, before continuing. "I will say this as I see it: your patriarch is dead. Many of the wisest clan leaders have realized this, but instead of seeking solutions, they’ve chosen greed. Rather than unify us, they have battled for the throne your patriarch left vacant. I couldn’t stand by and watch as our capital and its people withered under their self-absorption. For I, Aquaflora of the Clan Suiren, am also part of this family. Its blood runs through my veins."

"As a clan leader myself, one who witnessed the dreams our patriarch had for his people, I could not stand by and watch as these clan leaders turned their backs on his vision—his established order." She paused, gripping the railing tighter. "Order that I intend to preserve through the provisional title of Elven Queen. By this title, I have ordered the capture of those who sought to destroy the last vestiges of the patriarch’s legacy: our cohesion."

Her voice faltered momentarily as she locked eyes with the bound elves. Goblin, with a large grin, approached one of them, drawing a dagger. He only needed a word from Aquaflora to act. Her gaze darted back to me, hesitation clear in her eyes.

In that moment, I leaned in and said quietly, "They must go. Spare them, and they’ll see mercy you can’t enforce without my people’s strength. Show them mercy, and they’ll walk away from the cohesion we need. When that happens, it won’t just be seven heads that fall, but all the others they lead away from your leadership."

Aquaflora bit her lip, pity evident in her expression as she glanced between the bound elves and Goblin, who frowned at her delay. Taking another deep breath, she straightened, resolve filling her as she spoke again.

"Clan Leader of Clan Ameya, Clan Leader of Clan Honoka, Clan Leader of Clan Anora, Clan Leader Kohana, and the surrogate leaders of Clans Nahida and Minori—for your crimes in conspiring to bend the knee to the patriarch of the Umbryan family and the matriarch of the Aurian family—I sentence you to death. May your deaths serve as a message to those who dream of fracturing our unity."

Without needing further instruction, Goblin reached for the elf furthest to the left, lifted their head, and, with a merciless yet efficient slit, ended their life. His indifference to their pleas was chilling, but the act itself was quick—merciful, in its own way.

The crowd erupted in a wave of unease, but Licht, Bortz, and the guards—comprised mostly of Goblin’s bonded creatures—swiftly subdued any dissent. Goblin, swift and deliberate with each stroke of the Dûrmalkrin’s Blade, ensured that every act sent a clear message. By the time he finished, drenched in red, the silver of his blade completely obscured, he looked up to me, then to Aquaflora. White teeth exposed amist red, he opened his arms wide in reverence before kneeling.

Internally, I chuckled as I thought, "Well done, Goblin. Very well fucking done."

If there had been any hesitation in Aquaflora before, it was gone now. As terrible as the situation was, she must have realized it was better than leaving a maniac like Goblin in charge. This execution was not just a message to the sixteen Argyrian clans; it was a message to Aquaflora herself—one she seemed to understand as she continued.

"Brethren, beyond unity, there is no other path for us to tread except annihilation. Walk with me through these terrible days, and I vow to lead you to a better tomorrow—a tomorrow I make the sacred oath to deliver."