As Lucy suggested, after welcoming us, we were taken to a banquet he had arranged in the former Umbryan Patriarch's palace. The room resembled the one where we first met the Umbryan Patriarch, but unlike the somber atmosphere back then, things were much livelier.

"...Hm, I'm not sure though. So far, Blondie and I have explored only Lychantrope, Ursanthrope, Vulpianthrope, and Ophidianthrope territories," Bortz explained.

"For the Ophidians, I don't think that would count," Blondie remarked.

Musing about it, Bortz admitted, "I guess they were more atypical nomads, so calling that a territory would be wrong." Turning to Honey, who had asked the question, Bortz adjusted his answer. "Forget about the last one. We've seen three main beastkin territories: one in the southern corner of the Beastkin continent, another further north and eastward, and the last one further north but heading northward this time."

"Oh," Honey mused. "That's interesting. And... um, how are the territories compared to one another?"

"You're asking how they're different from each others.?"

Honey nodded. "As an adventurer, I've heard a lot about Beastkin lands, but everything I heard is a vague description of how unfriendly that continent is."

Exchanging a chuckle with Blondie, Bortz explained, "Technologically, for Lychantrope and Vulpianthrope populations, they're at least several thousand years behind the land of men. Ursanthrope populations might be a little better, so I'd say 500 years behind. That's me being generous."

"The problem with them," Blondie took over, "is that each of the beast clans isolates itself in a corner. They don't exchange anything with one another, don't attempt to improve upon anything. They just perpetuate what's there and remain stagnant as a civilization."

"So, the same as elves?" Aquaflora, who'd been listening with interest, asked.

At her words, Bortz and Blondie winced before simultaneously shaking their heads.

"Perhaps they're similar in how isolationist they are, but the reason behind that isolationism makes the situation of the elves and the beastkins very different," Bortz clarified.

"For elves, what keeps them apart is pride—that of monarchs who can't stand each other. In a sense, it's also the case for the beastkin monarchs, but while elven monarchs see no point in fighting each other, beastkin monarchs and subjects alike will tear each other apart for no reason."

"When they do have a reason, it's because each clan believes they're the only one that should exist," Bortz concluded.

"Oh," Aquaflora murmured. "That really sounds like something else..."

Blondie remarked, "We can say a lot about the elven monarchs, but compared to the monarchs in the land of the beastfolk, they were saints for their subjects."

"Because of them, the whole beastfolk civilization is stuck in what I'd call primeval times. Combined with the already unfriendly fauna and flora, it's a terrible combo for a continent to live on," Bortz remarked. Then, as if realizing how grim they sounded, he quickly added, "Oh, I'm not trying to dissuade you from visiting. Its sentient inhabitants and the terrible monsters roaming it aside, the Therian Territories are still a beautiful place to explore."

"Fantastic scenery, areas of magical phenomena that, coupled with the weather, guarantee you some unique experiences. So, if you ever want to visit the Therian Territories, go for it," Blondie encouraged.

"Just be properly prepared, though."

"Yes," Blondie nodded. "Don't go alone. Terrible idea."

"Yeah, terrible idea."

As much as the duo were trying to sell the Therian Lands to Honey, with how much they dragged the continent’s name through the mud, he was clearly not interested anymore.

"If you ever plan to visit the Therian Territories, just contact us. That's where we're active. We'll show you around," Bortz offered.

"We're aiming to explore the whole continent thoroughly, but it's a big place, so..."

"You can even join us in doing that if you want," Blondie offered.

Honey chuckled at the offer. "That's a kind invitation, but I don't think I can just say yes to that, at least not right now. But maybe one day."

Given what the duo had just exposed about the Therian lands, Honey's reservation made sense. As an adventurer, Honey's established base was in the land of men. Had it not been for the unique circumstances he was stuck in and the urgency of our mission as Dungeon Masters, Dungeon Master 07 wouldn't allow him to be here randomly. So, clearly, before saying yes to such an offer, he would first need to talk with Dungeon Master 07.

Listening as the duo kept trying to redeem the image of the Therian territories, I noticed Aquaflora pulling on my sleeve before asking in a low voice, "I've noticed these two are getting along so well," she said, glancing at the other side of the table where the discussion was almost as lively as it was on this side. Across from my seat, next to Lucy, sat the Ferron Patriarch, who naturally joined us. "Do they know each other?" Aquaflora asked.

"Yes," I nodded. "These two do know each other. How would they not, after all? They're neighbors."

"Neighbors?" Aquaflora echoed, finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. She was a little slow, most likely because she wasn't very familiar with the geography of the underworld, but as the saying goes, better late than never.

"So that's what he meant when he said that you were once a neighbor? Because you settled in the underworld."

That wasn't exactly true but not entirely wrong, so I just nodded. "As neighbors, the Ferron Patriarch and I looked out for each other, especially when it came to dealing with problematic neighbors," I smiled. "I helped him once deal with such a problem less than a century ago, so when I came to him with a proposition to deal with another set of problematic neighbors, what do you think his answer was?"

"To come to your assistance in your ploy."

"Bingo," I teased Aquaflora. "See? That's a soon-to-hundred-year alliance without me ever stabbing him in the back. Just two allies, mutual respect, exchange of promises, and honoring each other's services."

Seeing what I was suggesting, Aquaflora only nodded before noticing the Ferron Patriarch staring straight at us.

"Patriarch, is there a problem?" I asked.

"I hope you'll forgive me, but I heard my name and couldn't help but glean in on your conversation. You talked about honoring each other's service, and I couldn't agree more on the fact that so far, our cooperation has never disappointed. Which is why I dare voice this demand: I want to revise our terms to account for the damage I sustained. You see, it was a very fancy artifact that I lost here, and it'll cost me years to rebuild it with the proper manpower..."

Seeing where this was going, I asked, "I'm assuming you'd want more than the fore-agreed 25,000, right?"

At the mention, Aquaflora immediately frowned in dissatisfaction. She was familiar with the number, as it was the number of Argyrian elves the Ferron Patriarch desired as loot.

Aquaflora was about to voice her refusal like she had back then, but I interrupted her mid-swing. "Calm down. I told you, didn't I, that I discussed the terms with him? You won't surrender any of your people to him."

"Ma’am's right. You won't surrender any of your people," the Patriarch confirmed—but it wasn't the Ferron Patriarch. It was Goblin, now the Patriarch of the Aurian family, who added, "I'm the one who will."

"Huh?"

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At that moment, Aquaflora looked at me, and I looked back at her with a shrug.

Completely ignoring Aquaflora, Goblin turned to the Ferron Patriarch. "So, Patriarch, how many more of “my” people do you want?"

Pretending to ponder the question, the eccentric patriarch said, as if it were the most reasonable thing, "100,000."

Everyone at the table frowned at the outrageous demand. Going from 25,000 to 100,000 and making it sound reasonable was nothing short of absurd.

"What?"

"I think everyone here agrees that that's quite a ridiculous leap, Patriarch," Lucy noted.

"Had you suggested 30,000 or 35,000, I would have accepted right away, but 100,000?" I said on behalf of Goblin, who nodded in agreement.

"What's 100,000 compared to the Aurian family population, sure—"

"It's not about that ratio, Patriarch. Had we agreed with it, I would have gladly given you half of the Aurian poulation for all I care. But you made your demand—25,000. Asking for 100,000 Solvan elves is asking for four times what we initially agreed on. Surely you see where my dissatisfaction lies."

Without much of a change in expression, the Patriarch dwelled on my words, then simply said, "I do see it." With a sigh, he announced, "Alright, I'll bring it down to, let's say, 50,000."

"35,000."

"Madam Arianna, now you're the one being unreasonable," he sighed again before continuing. "45,000. And I'm not going any lower."

"How about a little last effort? 40,000," I said enticingly. "That's 60% more than we initially agreed on, Patriarch."

Just like the Patriarch earlier said, 100,000 was not much if you considered the actual Solvan elven population. And as such, it was quite a miserable reward for his help. But here's the thing—this was not a reward for his help. This was just a bonus he'd bargained after accepting my offer.

His reward for this cooperation lay elsewhere entirely, and it was a generous reward. One that I am certain that if I pushed it, I could completely nullify this demand. That was how much that reward was important to him. He wouldn’t—not for 100,000 Solvan elves, let alone 40,000. And I was proven right by his next adjustment.

"25,000 children, 5,000 males, and 10,000 females. I believe I can agree with that."

"Then we have terms," I declared, raising my glass to him, to which he and everyone at the table, except for one, responded by raising theirs as well.

The one who didn't was Aquaflora, who, while not happy about this whole arrangement, was reasonable enough to keep that to herself.

Reaching for her hand, I reassured her. "Don't worry. I told you, haven't I? Patriarch Farmi is the one elf you should work with. These elves he will get from Goblin will be treated well."

Clenching onto my hand, Aquaflora whispered, "I'm not sure about that, but at least they won't be under his rule. That's already one thing."

Under whose rule? The answer was clear from who she looked at when saying that.

"You still think that Goblin would make a terrible monarch? That might be the case if he became the Patriarch of the Argyrian family, but it's not necessarily true with him as the head of the Aurian family."

"You think?" Aquaflora moved her hand away. "Because the deal he just so casually raised his glass to makes me think that it won't be all that different."

"It's because he understands how little of a concession it was, considering the grand scheme of things."

"The grand scheme of things..."

"Yes. You see this alliance through a limited lens." Saying it out loud for everyone at the table to hear, I explained, "This alliance between Patriarch Farmi and us wasn't made just to usurp monarchhood from the elven monarchs or to help Patriarch Farmi get rid of two of his problematic neighbors. Those were means, and in some ways, ends. But ultimately, our alliance aims to get rid of a common enemy."

"Which is?" Aquaflora asked.

"The looming threat in Dwarven lands. The tyrant who once ruled over the land of men. The exiled emperor, who, with the help of his elven monarch ally ruling over the Arcane affinity and his army of mechanical constructs, brought the dwarven monarchs—and by extension, the dwarven species—to heel."

This alliance, which essentially tied the Ferron Patriarch and us Dungeon Masters together, had two goals.

For the Patriarch, it was about claiming his missing sigils. Unlike the other three elven monarchs of Quel'thalas, Patriarch Farmi controlled only half of the Artistic affinity’s sub-affinity. The other half was in the hands of a fellow reincarnate and his elven ally, who wielded the Arcane affinity—just as the Argyrian Patriarch commanded the Elemental affinity, the Aurian Matriarch the Nature affinity, and the Umbryan Patriarch the Spiritual affinity.

Like any elven monarch, the Ferron Patriarch dreamed of supremacy of control over his affinity. But to achieve that, the other wielder had to be removed from the equation.

However, he knew that individual was under the protection of two powerful figures—ones he could never defeat alone. He needed allies—strong allies. But to whom could he ally himself to? His direct neighbors wouldn't help, if anything they'd gladly screw him and his people over. So to who then? The question remained unanswered until we entered the equation."

For us Dungeon Masters, our goal was to recover the authority that was in the Iron Overlord’s possession. Ultimately, this alliance was forged to recover what we each firmly believed would be best in our hands.

“We are getting closer to our common goal of getting rid of the Iron Overlord and his allies,” I announced, rising from my chair. “But as we draw nearer, we also approach the second greatest obstacle standing in our way after the elven monarchs. I speak, of course, of Emperor Cleon. For us to truly wage this war and see it through, he must fall.” Looking at the Ferron Patriarch, I added, "The earlier, the better."

At these words, the patriarch frowned.

I immediately understood what incorrect deduction elicited such a reaction. Chuckling, I explained, "Don't worry, Patriarch. I wasn't going to ask something as ridiculous as joining in the fight like I did the last time."

"That's a relief. I only joined you because my fortress just happened to be ready for a demo. But it's completely destroyed now, and it'll take me a while to get it repaired."

"I understand... But still, I'm going to ask something of you. Just not that."

"And what is it?" he asked, apprehensive.

With a devious smile, I declared, "Nothing unreasonable."

----------------------------------------

A war against the Emperor was due, and with everyone sharing my table, I laid out my plans for the upcoming war. Have it be said that after detailing the strategy and establishing everyone’s role in the war we were about to wage, we went through another round of bargaining between me and the Ferron Patriarch. Ultimately, we agreed on a price, and with that, the gathering came to an end—at least, that one.

Later that night, gathered in a closed room, were White, Lucy, Goblin, Honey, and me. In other words, inside the room were just us Dungeon Masters, for what was discussed here was meant only for Dungeon Masters.

Right after I congratulated each of them for their individual efforts in recovering [Rule and Overrule], I gave them a secondary briefing of what was going to happen next—a briefing that involved details too sensitive to reveal at the earlier table.

"Ma'am," Bortz, who had been unusually quiet even back at the table, spoke up. "Are you sure you want us to not take part in it?"

The eagerness in his voice was genuine. It was obvious that he was let down by my decision. But still, I held my ground. With a firm nod, I confirmed, "This war ahead is very different from the one we just won. We're about to go against Cleon the One and Only, and while I might sound like I'm berating you, this is not a front you or Blondie belong to. I mean that with sincerity. To be frank, it’s not a front that Goblin belongs to either, but..."

"I'm a monarch now," Goblin flexed cockily.

While still dissatisfied by the decision, Bortz swallowed his feelings, then with a sigh, nodded in resignation.

Thanking him for accepting my decision, I announced, "Bortz and Blondie will return to the Therian Territories." Looking at the elegant demon in the room, I continued, "Lucy, as short as our reunion has been and as much as it pains me to say this, you will return to the Underworld. I think I've already overdone it by suggesting you join us for this."

"No, I'm more than thankful that you took the care and time to invite me to contribute, however little it was."

"Don't undermine yourself. We both know what’s going on in the Underworld and the risks you took just to be here. You surely don't regret being here, and neither do I regret summoning you, but I can't allow myself to ask for more than this."

Lucy nodded in acceptance.

In that moment, my attention went to the serpent resting on her shoulder. "We're going to get separated again, but someone has to bring the Authorities back to safety. Now that I think of it, one of these shouldn’t even be out here in the wild." Glancing at the red-haired young man, I added, "You're not going to rat on me to Dungeon Master 07 about me using [Authority Gathering], are you, Honey?"

"I have no intention of snitching anything," he declared with an innocent shrug. "However, it'll be hard for me to explain to Dungeon Master 07 how you managed to so conveniently lure the Argyrian Patriarch all over Quel'thalas without mentioning that you've been using [Authority Gathering]. Because trust me, he's going to ask about it—in detail."

Chuckling, I said, "I can't contradict you on that... Well, since it's inevitable, make sure to make it sound like I had everything under control, okay?"

"Naturally," he grinned.

"Alright, just as it's been decided, you will return with White to the Land of Men. White will return the Authorities to Dungeon Master 00, while you, ideally after greeting Dungeon Master 00, will return to civilization and inform Dungeon Master 07 of our success. Have him set everything in motion for our arrival."

"I will do just that," Honey affirmed. Then, his brow furrowed as some sudden realization dawned on him.

"A problem?" I asked.

"After you told me what you expected of me, I just realized something," he said, then a little dejectedly added, "While I still had one try left, I guess I have lost our bet."

Have it be said that while it was a strange moment to bring that up, he was right. He lost the bet in which I challenged him to figure out, on his own and through three tries, why I insisted on bringing him here. He lost not because he failed to answer within the three attempts, but because I gave out the answer when delivering my detailed directives for him, as they made it clear why it was him.

"It seems so indeed," I winced.