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Commerce Emperor
Chapter Twenty: Battle Council

Chapter Twenty: Battle Council

The war declaration arrived early in the morning.

I knew what to expect the moment I saw the Regent’s wax seal on the letter. Of course, it wasn’t an official notice of battles to come; only a list of unacceptable demands that would inevitably guarantee them.

I did a quick calculation when I first held the cursed piece of paper. Whitethrone was, what, half a hundred leagues away from Snowdrift? For the messenger bird to deliver its package so early, the Regent must have sent it before dawn. This plot had been a long-time brewing.

Roland immediately convened an emergency council in the banquet hall to discuss the situation. All heroes present were invited, alongside Therese, Alaire, Duke Sigismund, Minister Leclerc, and a few other important noble faces I had seen at the ball. Most of us answered the call, though with a few noticeable exceptions.

“The Assassin won’t be among us today?” Roland asked me after offering me a place to his left. His squire, Sebastian, stood behind his master like a shadow.

“She has already left the city,” I replied. One of the guards already confirmed to me that Mersie and her butler had been seen boarding a ferry ship earlier this morning. “I suspect she’s halfway to Erebia by now.”

“Erebia?” Roland scowled. “A shame. I would have welcomed her assistance.”

So would I, but Mersie had her own demons to fight. We would have to save Archfrost without her.

I glanced at the people gathered around the table. Duke Sigismund, Therese, and Minister Leclerc had black spots beneath their eyes. They must have spent the best part of the night negotiating alliances with other nobles or confirming their support for Roland in the conflict to come. Marika appeared just as tired; she and Colmar had worked around the clock to both deal with Florence’s victims and the Blight’s containment. Only Soraseo appeared well-rested.

Alaire worried me the most. I had managed to transfer the burden of her injuries onto a cultist prisoner eager to avoid execution, so she arrived at the meeting with functioning arms… and the most morose face I had ever seen. She was paler than chalk, her hand clenching her sword’s hilt. Therese immediately whispered into her friend’s ear when she joined her at the table, but Alaire hardly responded. Whatever truth Cortaner helped her uncover had clearly shaken her to her core. I made a note to confront her in private about it after the meeting.

Finally, Eris was too busy running errands for Roland and me to attend the meeting. I doubted she would return before the council’s end.

“Thank you all for coming,” Prince Roland declared once we had all seated ourselves. “I will not mince words. My uncle, Clovis, has seized control of the capital and ordered the arrest of Duke Sigismund, which I cannot abide.”

The Duke snorted in anger. “Princess Therese and I stand accused of holding the prince hostage in a foreign-backed plot to take control of Archfrost on behalf of the Everbright Empire,” he explained, his words dripping with disgust. “Vile slander, all of it. My brother has gone completely mad.”

“What did you expect, Lord Sigismund?” Minister Leclerc scoffed. “Naked power grabs succeed better when dressed up in pretty pretexts.”

“No prison can hold the Knight,” Soraseo said with a warrior’s respect. “Who would have enough ignorance to believe these lies?”

“Few,” Therese replied calmly, “but the Regent has catered to many over the years. They will stand by his side to preserve their own privileges.”

Unfortunately, she had a point. If Roland’s uncle felt confident enough to fight back against the heroes, then he was either a complete fool or he had gathered the support of a broad coalition of allies. We would no doubt find Knots and demons among them.

“The Regent is asking us to surrender Prince Roland back to his custody, alongside his fiancé and other uncle,” I summarized the letter’s content. “Moreover, his message orders, I quote, ‘for all lords of the realm, from Walbourg to Snowdrift, to support him in this time of need.’“

“‘From Walbourg to Snowdrift.’” Prince Roland clenched his fists in restrained rage. “My uncle asked that traitor Griselda to send him troops.”

I had expected something like that. Roland would not just marry Therese; Archfrost would marry the Everbright Empire. This match would form an alliance between the two nations, the kind that included military support.

I had no doubt the rebels in Walbourg could see the blood on the walls. They might feel confident in holding their fortified border with Archfrost, but imperial troops attacking from the south would trap them between a rock and a hard place.

Henceforth, their best bet was to support Duke Clovis’ coup. No doubt he promised to recognize their independence and give up Archfrost’s claim on their lands in return for their military assistance.

Roland and I exchanged glances with our fellow heroes. Marika, who had remained silent so far, gulped and dared to speak out loud what we were all thinking. “Does that mean we will have to fight the Cavalier?”

“I doubt it,” I replied. “She’s Walbourg’s best line of defense. They will keep her in reserve in case the Regent’s coup fails to build up support. Or at least, that’s how I would proceed in the rebels’ place.”

“We should march at once, my Prince,” Sebastian suggested. “The Regent’s tenure has been nothing short of a disaster, and now his words are straight up treason!”

“My son speaks wisely, Your Majesty,” Minister Leclerc agreed with a short nod. “The swifter we strike, the weaker your enemy’s position.”

Duke Sigismund supported the plan too. “Your Majesty, a word from you and I shall call my banners. The north will fight at your command.”

“You have allies outside Archfrost too,” Therese pointed out. “I can contact my sister for reinforcements.”

I shot down the idea. “It would only give credence to the Regent’s lies. Even if we win, a king that relies on a foreign power to win his throne will never earn his subjects’ respect.”

“Lord Waybright is right, this is an Archfrostian internal matter,” Minister Leclerc added, staring at Roland. “Your Majesty must take back Whitethrone with the forces at hand. Besides, if all the heroes gather behind you–”

Cortaner immediately rebuffed him. “I shall take no part in this political squabble.”

Many eyes turned in his direction, though none as concerned as Prince Roland’s. “What does that mean?”

“The Fatebinder ordered me to deal with the Knots, demons, and nothing more, Lord Knight,” Cortaner replied, standing his ground. “I will assist in purging this nation of cultists, but I care not which man sits on an iron chair, nor will I fight your own citizens.”

Soraseo frowned back. “Roland is a fellow hero. Heroes should fight as one.”

“The Cavalier stands on the other side of this conflict,” Cortaner stated bluntly. “His own vassal class.”

Prince Roland’s hands tightened on his chair’s arm folds, but he said nothing. Cortaner’s rebuke had taken the wind out of his sails.

Vassal classes were meant to assist the great class they were beholden to. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that Colmar, Marika, and I found each other so quickly. Fate subtly guided us to Snowdrift so that we may unveil Belgoroth’s machinations. We worked together seamlessly, without any hurdles or interpersonal conflict.

We were friends.

In contrast, Roland found himself with one of his vassals fighting for the opposing side. His mark identified him as the Knight, but this situation threatened his legitimacy the same way the Priest being a Reformist undermined confidence in the Arcane Abbey. Everyone could see something was wrong… or that the other side had a point.

And from the way Roland clenched his jaw, struggling to find his words, he had a hard time fathoming it. I remembered the way he had called for Florence’s execution before we could extract any information from her, or the barely-restrained disdain in his eyes whenever rebels were mentioned.

I supposed that when a Knight believed in their cause’s righteousness, everyone disagreeing with them started to look like traitors to be cut down.

My eyes wandered to Soraseo, who mirrored her fellow hero in many ways. Two warriors with their hearts in the right place, but who would rather fight problems than talk back to them.

That was my job.

“It is almost certain that the Knots helped engineer this entire conflict,” I argued back with Cortaner.

“The Knots might have helped increase tensions, Lord Merchant,” Cortaner conceded, “but this conflict has festered for decades. This country’s issues run deeper than a few demons’ malice.”

He’s not wrong, I thought. The Knots only exploited a situation that long-preceded them. The differences and rivalries between Archfrost’s southern and northern provinces had plagued it since its unification. But he’s missing the forest for the trees.

“A long war will also empower Belgoroth,” I insisted. “Which in turn will spread more Blights and destruction. It is in the world’s interest that Archfrost stabilizes as quickly as possible; even if you do not fight, voicing your support for Roland alone would inspire confidence and reduce bloodshed.”

I knew my arguments had reached Cortaner when he did not respond immediately. I was starting to understand how his mind worked. The Inquisitor was harsh, blunt, and ruthless… but not inflexible. He could admit his wrongs.

He wouldn’t have joined the Penitent Ones otherwise.

“I will defer to the Fatebinder’s judgment,” Cortaner finally decided. “If she orders the inquisition to fight on the Knight’s behalf, I shall do my duty.”

“Good,” Prince Roland said, now a little more relaxed than before. “I have already asked Lady Eris to deliver the news to Lady Alexios. I hope to receive her blessing.”

“We can do better than that, my Prince.” Minister Leclerc joined his hands together. “The first king of Archfrost was crowned by the Fatebinder of his time in Whitethrone.”

Colmar’s head suddenly perked up. “You wish to invite her to Archfrost?”

“Once we retake the capital,” the minister clarified.

“That is a great idea, minister,” Prince Roland admitted with a thin smile. “But the Fatebinder rarely leaves Holy Erebia, and such a ceremony hasn’t been held since our country’s founding.”

“Neither has a hero ascended to the throne since,” the man replied with a chuckle. “Who would dare to contest Your Majesty’s right to rule Archfrost after the Goddess’ chosen crowns you before the entire realm?”

“It would cement your legitimacy, Roland,” I conceded. “It is a terrific idea… in more ways than one.”

Colmar, who couldn’t care less for politics, exchanged a look with me. He had his doubts about the Fatebinder since the moment Eris confirmed that she kept secrets from us. I too had many questions for her, especially when it came to the Demon Ancestors.

This would be an opportunity to finally obtain the answers we sought.

I studied Minister Leclerc and his amiable smile. I had seen his type often in the Riverland Federation. The unassuming bureaucrat, neither well-born nor wealthy, who whispered into the ears of the powerful. The best of them worded their suggestions so subtly that their noble patrons believed that they had come up with their ideas on their own. At the same time, these shadowy assistants discreetly moved their pieces into place and slowly integrated their families into long-term positions. Few could boast about having a king’s squire for a son. All in all, he represented a perfect example of social mobility. I could admire that.

So why did he feel… off?

Something about the man rubbed me the wrong way; yet I couldn’t pinpoint what. His eyes, so pale and gray, felt familiar to me. Did we meet before? I could have sworn I had first seen him riding behind Roland. I tried to remember a man with his eyes and came up with nothing.

A detail escaped me, but what?

“Moreover, we could organize your wedding to Lady Therese at the same time,” Minister Leclerc added. “This would reassure your subjects that the House of Archfrost stands strong.”

While his square’s face might have been made of stone, Prince Roland simply shifted on his chair. “True…” he trailed off, clearly uneasy. “I hadn’t considered a wedding so early…”

My eyes shifted from Roland to Therese, who neither voiced her opposition nor agreement to the wedding. Though she kept a stoic expression, I knew she was secretly pondering her options.

Beneath her pleasant demeanor, Therese hid a great deal of ambition. She wanted to become queen, and being married to her generation’s Knight was only the icing on the cake. She hadn’t stayed over a decade away from her homeland to settle in obscurity, but she was smart enough to sense something was wrong with this arrangement.

This is going to be a problem, I thought.

Poor Marika misread the prince’s unease for shyness. “The two of you would make for a beautiful couple,” she complimented him and Therese, oblivious to the clues at hand.

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“Thank you, Lady Marika,” Roland replied, his cheeks flushing. “I’m embarrassed.”

“This discussion is…” Soraseo searched for the correct word. “Pre… premeditated?”

“Premature?” Colmar suggested.

“Yes. This discussion is premature.” Soraseo nodded to herself, deeply proud of her own progress at picking up Archfrostian grammar. “We must retake the capital first, then plan for tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” Roland replied. “I have been convinced. I wish to march on Whitethrone as soon as possible.” He glanced at the assembly. “Can I count on your support?”

I nodded alongside Duke Sigismund, Soraseo, Marika, and a few others. Colmar wasn’t among them.

“Unfortunately, Your Majesty, matters related to the Blight demand that I stay in Snowdrift,” the Alchemist said. “I can help prepare supplies, but I’m afraid I cannot leave the city yet.”

“Understandable,” Roland replied, his eyes turning to Alaire. “What of you, Lady Brynslow?”

Alaire did not respond. In fact, I suddenly realized that she hadn’t said a word since the meeting started. She sat in silence, her gray eyes staring into the void and trying to glimpse a truth that evaded her.

She was not well.

“Alaire?” Therese asked, her eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Her friend’s voice jolted Alaire out of her thoughts. “My apologies,” she said after quickly regaining her composure. “I will send troops to assist Your Majesty. However…”

I watched her gathering her breath with apprehension. Her hesitation raised plenty of alarm bells in my head. Alaire had always been decisive and eager to fight her problems. She had been so determined last night, so unyielding.

What happened?

“I cannot leave my city for the moment,” Alaire declared. “I swear to Your Majesty that I will put Snowdrift’s full weight behind your claim. I will call my banners in your favor and mobilize our infrastructure. Its fleet, its forges… everything. But I must stay here.”

Thankfully, Roland took it graciously. “Your support is appreciated, Lady Brynslow.”

“I will take command of the city’s troops,” Soraseo proposed. “I have the expertise.”

“The experience,” Colmar corrected her, albeit gently. “Expertise is technically correct, but experience is better in this context.”

“I have the under–” Soraseo stopped herself, cleared her throat, and then settled on the correct pronunciation. “I understand, my friend.”

I felt happy at Soraseo’s progress, but too worried for Alaire to properly enjoy it.

The war council ended soon after. Marika, Soraseo, Therese, and I would join Roland on his march against the capital, while Colmar and Alaire would stay behind in Snowdrift. The city would serve as the rallying point for the prince’s supporters and a logistical hub to supply his army. Finally, Cortaner would wait for the Fatebinder’s orders before committing to anything.

Snowdrift becoming a rallying point for Roland’s supporters somewhat excited me. While it would make it a target for his enemies, much wealth and many powerful people would gravitate towards it. This would improve its economy, both in the short and long-term. People came and left, but the money they spent would remain.

While I wanted to remain in Snowdrift and build upon these new opportunities, nipping this civil war in the bud took priority. I was confident I could help Roland settle things in Whitethrone. I was the Merchant. The Regent might have deep pockets and allies, but I could trade time, health, and strength. I could outbid anyone. Besides, I had the feeling Therese and Roland would need me.

However, another friend required my assistance first.

“Alaire–” I said as we left the meeting, but she didn’t let me finish.

“I need some time alone, Robin,” Alaire said with a tired, heavy sigh. “We will speak later.”

I vividly remembered the days after Alaire’s grandfather perished. She immediately visited our training ground to ask for a spar, because fighting and physical activity helped blow off stress.

That she would instead rather retreat into herself spoke volumes about her sorrow.

I did not insist further. “I’ll be there when you need me.”

“I…” Alaire forced herself to smile, though it was more painful to watch than anything. “I know.”

She left the council room soon alongside Roland, Therese, and the gathered nobles to prepare the military march. I exchanged a glance with the prince’s fiancé, who raised her chin up and down. She would look out for Alaire in my stead.

“Our lady is not well,” Colmar noted once only us heroes remained in the room.

“I can see that,” Marika whispered. “She’s like iron. Strong, but I’m afraid she’ll break under enough pressure.”

I worried as much. I had never seen Alaire’s gray eyes brimming with such sadness before…

Gray.

I froze, my head snapping to where Minister Leclerc stood. The man had already left with the prince and his son. Still, I remembered his gaze vividly. It could mean anything, but… I trusted my gut.

“Cortaner,” I said as I turned toward the Inquisitor. “Can I pick your mind for a moment?”

“If this is about Lady Brynslow, it is not my place to say anything,” Cortaner replied brusquely. “If you trust her, you should wait for her to tell you what she learned in her own time.”

“I know that,” I replied. That man was sharper than he let on. “It’s about the Knots.”

My allies all looked at me, none with more intensity than Cortaner himself. “I have audited everyone in this castle and arrested everyone suspected of demonic collaboration,” he confirmed.

So far so good. “Since Minister Leclerc is free, I assume you cleared him?”

“Of demonic activities at least.” Cortaner snorted behind his helmet. “The man confessed to minor crimes. A little embezzlement here, a few bribes there, not to mention the strings he pulled to put his son in the prince’s… service.”

Cortaner’s short pause at the last word was not lost on me.

“Embezzlement?” Marika asked with a scowl, her friendly expression harshening. This news hit too close to home for her after what happened with her husband. “Have you informed Prince Roland of your findings?”

“Yes, I have.” Cortaner’s armored fists tightened. “He decided against dismissing his minister. The man is loyal, unaffiliated with the Knots, and his transgressions are relatively minor for an official in his current position. Our Knight trusts him.”

I squinted. “Do you?”

“I do not trust anyone,” Cortaner replied bluntly. “Not even myself.”

A wise mindset for an inquisitor–especially the Inquisitor–but not one amenable to making friends. This only encouraged me further.

“Is it possible for you to medically confirm whether two people are related?” I asked Colmar.

“Yes, if I get blood samples from both parties.” It didn’t take long for Colmar to catch on to my plan. “I did extract one from Lady Alaire during her surgery.”

“Could you compare it with a sample taken from the Prince’s squire?” I questioned him. “Say it’s to check for any sign of contagions from Florence’s gas.”

“You suspect the boy’s father, but you do not want to confront him directly yet,” Colmar guessed. “Might I ask why Minister Leclerc warrants such caution?”

“A hunch.” And I prayed it would be no more than a false alarm.

“I do not understand,” Soraseo admitted. “The Inquisitor turns lies into truth. How could that man lie?”

“Thing is, we’ve seen that demons and their allies possess magical abilities that we do not fully understand yet,” I replied. “Chastel could turn invisible, and Florence could channel Belgoroth’s power. I do not want to make any assumptions.”

Overlooking Florence’s activities nearly cost us Snowdrift. A spy among Prince Roland’s staff risked destabilizing all of Archfrost. I will take no chances.

“The improbable is not the same as the impossible,” Colmar replied in agreement. “Our enemies understand our powers well enough. It would be foolish of them not to devise countermeasures against the Inquisitor’s ability.”

My thoughts exactly. Cortaner’s power was a boon to our cause, but we didn’t understand its full limits yet; no more than I had figured out all of the Merchant class’ potential applications. Better safe than sorry.

I also couldn’t discount the possibility that Florence’s intel might be inaccurate. The Knot of Greed’s leader might have fed her disinformation to further divide us.

“You are wiser than you let on, Lord Merchant,” Cortaner complimented me in his cold, distant way. “Wiser than our Knight.”

“I don’t understand why Roland would keep that man around,” Marika complained. “A minor crook is still a crook.”

“The prince’s position is currently precarious,” Colmar guessed. “I suppose he would rather wait to secure it first.”

I could understand Roland’s point of view. The prince didn’t need more potential enemies inside his own state administration for the moment. He probably intended to clean the house once safely crowned as Archfrost’s king.

I hoped. Another part of me offered a more cynical explanation: that Minister Leclerc was kept around because his son was the prince’s confidant.

Corruption and nepotism were the death of nations. I hadn’t worked so hard to clean up Snowdrift and Ermeline to see the same abuses perpetrated among Archfrost’s upper echelons. If Roland and I couldn’t see eye to eye on the matter, I would have to put my foot down.

A flash of light suddenly filled the room. Soraseo immediately drew her sword on instinct while Cortaner tensed up. I half-expected Eris to pop up in a cloud of smoke, only to find myself staring at a small wooden box sitting atop the council table.

“Oh, finally.” I rejoiced upon opening the package and finding a paper with the word ‘Seukaia’ written on it. “I was wondering if and when these would arrive.”

The mark on my hand shone as two more small boxes materialized in the room. Soraseo lowered her weapon upon realizing we weren’t in danger, though she appeared especially curious. “Are these gifts, Robin?”

“Gifts to myself,” I mused upon checking the box contents. To my disappointment, the box including the ‘Everbright Empire’ note did not contain anything else. “Do you remember the discussion we had on my power’s range?”

Marika chuckled. “Must we expect a fortress to pop up in our living room?”

“Unfortunately not,” I replied with a sigh of dismay. “I’ve tried to teleport a house by purchasing it earlier, to no avail.”

Now consumed by curiosity, Colmar opened the boxes and confirmed that they all included a note with a location name on it. “Oh, very clever,” he commented. “You gave Eris boxes with contracts and asked her to deliver them to her contacts across the world.”

“Exactly,” I confirmed as a fourth and final box teleported in. “In the documents, I offer to buy back the boxes from the other party alongside all their content for a silver coin each.”

“‘Seukaia?’” Soraseo’s expression soured when she read the associated note. “This box came from the other side of the world.”

“As far as I can tell, my power’s teleportation effect has no range limit,” I said while checking the fourth and final box. It contained a note with the words ‘Fire Islands’ and a pile of seashells. Very interesting. “It can transport goods across any distance, albeit with a few caveats. My current guess is that when it comes to physical objects, my power can teleport any object that counts as ‘transportable.’ I’ve succeeded in teleporting a wagon earlier, but not a house.”

“Makes sense,” Marika said. “When most people buy a home, they partly do so for the location.”

“Two of these boxes were also supposed to contain animals,” I added. I had explicitly asked for a cat if possible, though I could have settled for mice or bugs. “Since no living creatures arrived, it appears my power considers them completely separate from whatever container currently holds them.”

“No one should own another living being,” Cortaner commented with a disdainful grunt.

I nodded sharply. “I suppose humans and animals must consent to be sold to be moved away.”

Marika visibly shivered. “That sounds like slavery to me, Robin.”

“Hence why I’m not pushing the issue further,” I replied. “I worry that my power might either harm people or worse if I try to buy them. It has often interpreted my commands in lethal ways.”

Moreover, I feared that ‘buying’ people would result in my mark lashing out the same way it did when I tried to purchase a soul. Eris had been clear that would be my only warning. Another transgression against the class’ ethical constraints meant death.

“This is an incredible discovery nonetheless,” Colmar commented upon checking the box with the seashells. “If you draft a contract that specifically lets you buy anything a chest contains, then it will let you transport supplies across vast distances.”

“Perhaps the Frostfox Company should open a delivery service,” I mused, half-joking and half-serious. “With a catalog of products.”

Merchandise from remote places such as Seukaia or the Fire Islands took months to travel to countries like Archfrost, when they arrived at all. Pirates, storms, embargoes, and banditry caused many long-distance ventures to fail, or increased their prices tenfold. Judicious applications of my power would let me side-step these issues.

I smelled immense profits on the horizon if I played my cards right.

A puff of smoke filled the council room, and Eris’ familiar face emerged from it. “Oh, I see the deliveries arrived early,” she said, a leathery bag full of scrolls hanging from her back. “Where’s my commission, Robin?”

“How about we discuss it over dinner?” I asked. I had promised it for a long time, and tonight might be my last night in Snowdrift for a while. Moreover, I needed a distraction after Mersie’s departure.

“Mayhaps, mayhaps,” Eris replied evasively, as she always did. By now I was certain that she struggled with formally committing to anything. She grabbed a scroll from her bag and handed it to Cortaner. “I’ve got mail for you from the top, Corty.”

Cortaner grabbed the document without a word and swiftly unfolded it. I noticed the Arcane Abbey’s wax seal on the paper.

“The Fatebinder has ordered the Arcane Abbey to fully mobilize for Prince Roland’s cause,” Cortaner declared with a plain, factual tone. “I have been entrusted with his safety.”

I did not think the Knight required a bodyguard, but the Inquisitor’s presence would help Roland nonetheless.

“I have great news, Colmar,” Eris said as she presented him with a letter of his own. “The Mage agreed to your request.”

The Mage?

My head wasn’t the only one that perked up in interest. Soraseo, Marika, Eris, and I gathered around Colmar as he unfolded the letter. It was written in perfect Archfrostian, though the somewhat shaky letters told me the author wasn’t a native speaker.

> Dear Alchemist,

> A world might separate us, but when it comes to meetings of the mind, distance is only an illusion.

> Mrs. Belarra informed me of your Blight situation and your plan to solve it. I believe I can indeed help you with it. As the Mage, my ability to alter essence trumps that of any witchcrafter alive. It happens that I currently live near a Sanctuary. I can charge your runestones to the brim with positive essence in a few days’ time. Mrs. Belarra only needs to deliver them to me.

> However, I must warn you that while your method is likely to destroy the Blight, it will cause severe pushback. A Blight is a living being in many ways. A disease whose only instinct is to spread its evil to all that it can touch. When confronted with the tools of its execution, this plague will fight back with all of its strength and malice. Monsters will pour out of its depths in one last hurrah. I strongly suggest that you prepare accordingly.

> If I can do anything else to ease your burden, please let me know. I would be deeply interested in a report of your progress on the matter. If you and your friends ever visit the Stonelands, or if I travel westward, let us meet for tea. I am always eager to meet a fellow scholar.

> With warm regards,

> Professor Chandraj Bhatt

“The Professor Bhatt?” Marika gasped in shock. “Chandraj Bhatt is the Mage?”

“Whom?” I asked with a confused frown. He sounded important, but the name didn’t ring a bell.

Marika immediately stared at me as if I had grown a second head. “Chandraj Bhat!” she repeated, her astonishment growing when I failed to identify him. “One of the co-writers of the Unified Essence Theory: A Modern Analysis of the Universe! A book every professional witchcrafter has read!”

A pity I wasn’t one. Still, the high esteem in which Marika held him inspired confidence.

“Professor Chandraj is known to me too,” Colmar said with a deep, respectful tone. “He has written excellent treatises on monster biology and essence-related medical treatments. He is without a doubt one of the greatest scholars alive today.”

“He’s currently in the Stonelands investigating dusty old ruins,” Eris said with a light chuckle. “And dealing with surges in monster activities.”

Half a world might separate us indeed, but I was glad that even remote places had a hero to defend them.

“He said you had found a way to destroy the Blight?” I questioned Colmar. “How so?”

“Marika suggested a potential solution,” Colmar replied modestly. “Blights are composed of sinful essence and disappear when washed away by a constant flow of positive feelings.”

“Which we’re producing by renovating Snowdrift,” I said, following his reasoning so far. “Which takes time.”

“Marika and Inquisitor Gunndra successfully slowed down the Blight’s progression by building a perimeter of sealing runestones,” Colmar continued. “I believe we can potentially destroy it with a more radical form of shock therapy: dropping huge quantities of runestones rich in more positive essence directly into its core.”

“It’s a method I’ve experimented with to purify cursed weapons,” Marika confirmed. “But the quantities required to destroy a Blight would be… unfathomable.”

Colmar nodded. “I have been able to transform matter into empty runestones with my power, but charging them has proved to be an issue. We would need access to a dozen Sanctuaries and an army of witchcrafters, not to mention months of preparation.”

“So you considered asking the Mage for help,” I whispered. That class manipulated essence better than anyone alive. “That’s ingenious.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t transport tons of runestones on my own,” Eris said, smiling at me. “Not without you, my dear Robin.”

I joined my hands, a plan forming in my mind. “I can draft a contract selling the runestones to Professor Bhatt, then a second to buy them back after he has successfully finished refining them.”

“This would let us transport the material to the Stonelands back and forth,” Colmar concluded. “Then we can purge the Blight for good.”

“This will sound the horn of battle,” Soraseo pointed out. “We cannot fight two wars at once.”

“Agreed,” I said. “We can proceed with this operation after securing the capital. Even the Mage said it would take him time to charge the runestones anyway.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Marika smiled ear to ear. “If it works, Snowdrift will finally be safe.”

It was hard to describe how happy and relieved I felt then. We finally had a chance to lift the curse that Belgoroth had cast on my hometown.

No matter how many clouds gathered on the horizon, the light still shone through.