The best part of the troll-mojo incident was that all our visitors suddenly decided to leave earlier than planned. Originally, they were supposed to stay until just before the grand feast at Fiona’s—Duchess of Cromwall’s—residence. But now, as if struck by divine revelation, they miraculously remembered or conveniently discovered urgent matters that required their attention before heading there.

We barely had enough time to throw together the bare minimum for a departure ceremony. Apparently, royal guests couldn’t simply leave like normal people—no, their departure had to be accompanied by a certain degree of pomp, as if the world itself needed to acknowledge their absence.

And so, I found myself standing in the castle yard with my entourage, waiting for the departure signal. At last, the prince's chief paladin, Sir Gamesh, raised his hand—a sign that they were ready.

They were all mounted, of course. Protocol and all that nonsense, because heaven forbid they step through a portal like ordinary mortals. No, their exit required a gateway fit for riders.

Once I saw the signal, I closed my eyes, reaching out to the spirit to allow for the portal initialization. When I opened them again, I was pleased to see that it had worked—the blue skies of Koreia, Ahetia’s provincial capital, stretched beyond the shimmering frame of the portal. It had opened on a hill southeast of the city, offering a clear view of some of Koreia’s landmarks: the three central cathedrals of its major religions and the governor’s palace.

From Koreia, they would have to travel east to reach Dolomar, Cromwall’s main city—Fiona’s seat of power and the place where I was expected to reunite with them for the grand feast.

With the blaring of trumpets, the column set itself in motion. The first paladins urged their horses forward, crossing through the portal, while Sir Gamesh gave me a formal salute.

The prince waved to us, and at his side, Therella touched her lips and blew a gentle kiss in our direction. Was that meant for Sid? For me? Or for Ju?

Rumors had been swirling that the prince and Therella were planning to announce their engagement soon—perhaps even at Fiona’s gathering. However, it was known that Therella had grown quite fond of Sid and visited him regularly, which was already causing a scandal. Human society had always looked down on elves, branding them as too frivolous and libertine, and the vice-queen herself had to step in to prevent Therella from spending nights in Sid’s chamber.

I, for one, have to confess that they had been nothing but perfectly well-behaved. But try explaining that to your average pearl-clutching, flubdub aunt-in-law.

Oh well, now that they were leaving, I was perfectly fine with it. But yeah… when it first happened, I wasn’t much better than the average pearl-clutching, flubdub—uh, whatever.

Sid, on the other hand, wasn’t particularly bothered that his princess was leaving. He had far more pressing concerns—like digesting the absurd amounts of meat he had consumed, which had left him looking downright apathetic these past few days. My instincts told me not to worry, and after digging up a book on dragons in the library, I was relieved to find my gut feeling confirmed.

Apparently, dragons went through growth spurts, and during those, they spent long periods in their lairs, sleeping off their meals.

And honestly, who wouldn’t feel sluggish after eating nearly an entire wyvern? Sid had been working his way through the beast almost nonstop, taking only brief pauses, and just today, he’d informed me—somewhat triumphantly—that he was finally almost done with it.

He yawned and stretched—a less-than-ideal thing to do during such a festive moment.

“Wow, I feel so sleepy, Mom! Can I go to my hoard-room, Mom?!” he asked, his face drowsy and unfocused.

Ju shot him a worried glance, clearly unaware of the details. I simply shrugged in response and gave a small shake of my head to reassure her. Then, with a fond smile, I tapped Sid’s shoulder.

“Happy dreams, honey,” I chuckled, rising onto the balls of my feet to press a quick kiss behind his ear.

He laughed, instinctively raising his shoulder to shield his exposed neck.

“That tickles, Mom!” he protested, still laughing. Then he turned back to me, his eyes already half-closed as he yawned again.

“Hey, cover your mouth when you yawn, kid,” I chided.

He ignored me entirely, just staring at me with a blissfully content expression.

I rolled my eyes.

“May I ask you something, Mom?” Sid said.

I took his arm in one hand while waving with the other as the last paladins entered the portal, followed closely by Therella’s lady-in-waiting.

Some of the onlookers were still peering through the portal, trying to catch a better glimpse of the provincial capital before it disappeared. As I watched them, a thought nagged at me—if we could see through the portal, if light could pass through, then why couldn’t we travel in both directions? Everyone insisted portals were unidirectional, but why?

“Sure, honey. Do you need something?” I asked, just as the portal sealed itself shut with a soft whiz—prompting a chorus of disappointed groans from the children who had been watching.

The vice-queen made a discreet gesture, signaling that the elves were about to open their portal. I gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. Moments later, a golden-shimmering portal flickered to life, almost exactly where the previous one had been.

“The gold shimmer is just some added gizmo to make it look fancier,” Ju whispered in my ear.

Unlike the humans, the elves didn’t bother with fanfare. Two scouts crossed through first, their figures momentarily silhouetted against the vibrant green of a dense jungle on the other side. Then, a deep bass note resonated through the air—the unmistakable sound of elven long horns. It was said that only elf women were permitted to play them, the massive instruments stretching over two meters in length.

Next, the elf general stepped through, accompanied by a few soldiers.

I chuckled to myself. My little investigation had confirmed that the invitation for Barak’s girls had come from someone in his entourage—if not from the general himself. But when pressed, he had refused to discuss the matter. Oh well, it had mostly been my curiosity at work anyway. I had never actually intended to make him pay up.

Another pair of soldiers followed, leading the way for the vice-queen’s entourage.

I had arranged for Alice’s children to scatter flower petals in front of the vice-queen as she passed. They had spent hours gathering them, and now, a flurry of petals swirled through the air, drifting in front of the portal as she approached.

Oh well—poor flowers. Such a barbaric tradition. One of the elven druids had worked tirelessly to coax those trees into bloom, only for their efforts to end in this petal massacre.

The vice-queen waved as she stepped through the portal. I waved back before turning to Sid and pulling him a little closer.

“So?” I prompted him again. “What was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh!” he blinked, as if only now remembering. “I’m so tired… Could you take care of Jane while I’m sleeping? I know she’s not a princess, but she’s worth—" He hesitated, then pressed on. "I… I’d feel better if I knew you were looking after her. You know she’s an orphan, and her stepmother is really mean to her.”

“Oh?” I murmured, glancing toward the line of servants. “Was her father a miner?” I scanned the group until my eyes landed on the blonde maid, half-hidden behind Mike.

Sid shook his head.

“No, he was a hunter. Her mother died a couple of years ago, and her father remarried. Then last year, he was killed in a hunting accident—by a bear.”

“Oh, dear…” I murmured, wondering where on earth he had gathered all this information. “Did she complain about her stepmother?”

“No, she never complained, but I overheard some conversations…” He stretched again, his exhaustion plain. “They say her stepmother wants to chase her away so she can remarry.”

His voice trailed off in another yawn before he blinked at me, expectant. “May I go to sleep now?”

“Of course, I told you—you can go anytime,” I assured him. Then, after a moment, I added, “And don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

His face brightened. “Thanks, Mom! You’re always the best!”

Without another word, he turned and headed straight for the entrance, making his way toward his tower.

“Sleep well,” I called after him in my mind.

“Thanks, Mom!” came his drowsy telepathic reply as he disappeared inside.

“This Jane must be really something,” Ju whispered at my side.

I nodded. “Let’s see,” I said. “Would you like to do a little digging on her? Meanwhile, I’ll go check on our prisoner and have a chat with the Xsoha.”

Ju gave me a look, as if she had something to say, then glanced past me and shrugged.

“Have fun,” she said before heading toward the main building, her steps angled toward Mike, who was just about to enter.

I turned to face the rows of orcs standing behind me, just as Drackar approached.

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“Lady Lores,” he greeted with a respectful nod.

“Captain?”

“You were right in your assumption,” he said. “The spirit seems to have tapped into our troll-mojo reserves. They’re completely drained.”

I chuckled, hardly sympathetic about their loss.

Drackar continued, “It seems only the barrels stored in the castle’s basement were affected.”

I nodded. In the end, our explanation of what had happened wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Could we find a way to use this spirit’s ability to defend the castle?” I mused aloud.

Drackar shrugged. “I don’t really see how. While a scaled-down shield was able to contain air movement, the standard shield doesn’t have that function. You have to choose one or the other. Maybe if the castle were occupied by enemy forces, we could use this to force them out—as long as they didn’t figure out how to disable both the shield and the spirit tool.” He paused, then added, “That’s all I can think of for now, but it’s an idea we might explore later.”

I shrugged in turn and moved on to the next matter.

“Did the prisoner accept the verdict? His time to change his mind is up.”

Drackar nodded. “He’s already in place.”

“Oh, good to hear.” I gave a small nod. “I plan to visit the Xsoha at the inn. Have a couple of good-looking soldiers accompany me as guards.”

He chuckled. “Certainly, Lady Lores. I’ll handpick them myself. They’ll be waiting for you by the warlock’s gate in a few minutes.”

With that, I dismissed Drackar and headed straight for the room where Lynx was waiting for me.

After all, I had made a spatial inventory for Sid, so of course, Lynx expected the same treatment. That was only fair. But now, even some of my followers had caught wind of it and were starting to push for their own.

As I made my way toward the castle, I ran into a fuming Hew.

“Lores! Tell Wetina I can go to Huiesta! She won’t let me leave! How am I supposed to do my job like this? Who’s the boss here?”

Behind him, Wetina rolled her eyes.

“The area hasn’t been declared safe yet, and Lady Lores hasn’t lifted the travel restrictions,” she countered with a weary sigh.

While not traditionally beautiful, Wetina was striking in her own way. Well-proportioned and standing as tall as Hew—if not taller when she carried herself straight—she had a presence that demanded attention. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her dark green shoulders, adding an unexpected elegance to her otherwise no-nonsense demeanor. It was the first time I had seen her wearing it loose; before, she had always kept it tightly strapped back like most warriors did.

There was a note of concern in her eyes, one that didn’t quite match her exasperated tone.

“That should be fine now, Wetina,” I said. “But check with Drackar and have him assign a ten-guard escort—that should be enough for safety. Also, give Hew my mare so you can ride faster.”

She nodded, a bright smile spreading across her face before she turned to carry out the order.

“Me? Riding?” Hew sputtered, his expression teetering on the edge of panic.

I shrugged. “If I can ride, you should be able to as well. Come on, Hew, a little riding sport will do you good.”

He let out a heavy sigh, clearly unconvinced. “Okay…”

“Where’s Tom?” I asked.

“Training with the juniors,” he replied.

“Does he have a guard? Who’s assigned to him?” I asked.

“Egger, mostly—when he’s here in the castle or in the mining town.”

“Egger? The sexy orc girl?” I exclaimed. “Uh, and Tom hasn’t tried to seduce her?”

Hew burst into laughter. “Oh, I’m sure he’s tried everything he knows, but his charm doesn’t seem to work on her.” His face was full of amusement.

“Hm. She doesn’t seem to have as many orc admirers as Wetina does. I wonder why? Is she not to their taste?”

Personally, I found Egger prettier—but that was just my preference. Still, I had noticed she was somewhat of an outsider among orcs. Pariah would be too strong a word, but she certainly didn’t have the devoted flock of admirers that Wetina did.

Hew shrugged. “I talked to Wetina about her once. All she said was that Egger is ‘somehow special.’ Maybe it’s her water magic?”

As Wetina approached, I gave Hew a quick hug and wished him a good day before heading into the building to find Lynx.

I found him in the room adjacent to the great hall, lounging on a leather sofa while waiting for me. A maid had just set down a plate of refreshments on a small table. She bowed profusely before stepping back.

"Hey, Lyn!" I greeted.

He grinned, revealing his sharp canines—still just as sharp in human form. Because of that, some people feared he was a vampire.

"Hey, Lores!" he answered cheerfully.

I made a small gesture, and the maid bowed again before leaving the room.

Lynx grabbed a cracker from the plate, took a bite, then let out a sigh.

"Amh… I'm sorry. I talked too much. Me and my big mouth!" He shot me a guilty look. "Now everyone wants you to make them an inventory like you did for Sid. Do you know there’s actually a queue? Alice organized some kind of tombola, and guess what? Durham paid two gold just to be first in line after me! He even tried to buy my spot!"

I chuckled.

“Unfortunately, it takes all my mana—and then some—to complete one. That’s why I don’t do them all at once. Two per day is my limit. But don’t worry about it. They’re my followers, after all. Let them have a bonus—I should have thought of it myself.”

Lynx nodded, satisfied.

“Now, where do you want it?” I asked. “It’ll look like a tattoo, but if I place it somewhere under your clothes, you’ll have to undress that part every time you want to store or retrieve something.”

“What does the tattoo look like? Is there a specific shape?” he asked curiously.

I shook my head. “Not really. It’s more of a fractal pattern made up of the runes that define the spell. You’d need a trained eye to recognize them—otherwise, they just look like nonsense. But I could arrange them into a shape if you want. Never done it before, but…”

I had only performed this spell a handful of times, but after browsing through Flo’s memories, I was fairly certain it was possible.

“Okay,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Can you make it the face of your lynx?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Why would you want that?”

He shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Because it’d be funny! I’ll be able to tell peasants, Oh, sorry, your buffalo is with Lores. You’ll have to talk to her to get the money for it!”

I blinked, then snorted in exasperation.

“How many buffaloes do you plan to kill? Those are their work animals!”

He sighed dramatically. “I don’t do it on purpose, but sometimes… shit happens!”

I rolled my eyes.

In the end, he chose his left hand for the tattoo.

Once I finished the process, I felt a little wobbly. Meanwhile, Lynx was grinning like a child, admiring the mischievous-looking cat head now etched onto the back of his hand.

“Cool! Thanks! It looks like a mix between you and a kitty! I love kitties!” he said, beaming.

I rolled my eyes again and reached for the small bell on the table, giving it a quick ring to summon an energizing drink.

Roberta—Rianda’s mother, and formerly a fugitive I had found in the Dakta—had taken up brewing energizing drinks based on Tina’s recipes. Alice had set her up in a small room near the orcs' barracks, where she could boil her alchemical compounds and sell the drinks for a couple of coppers.

Once I felt steady enough on my feet, I made my way to meet my orc guards. They were already waiting for me near the gate the warlock was maintaining.

The prisoner had been sentenced to ten years of service to the domain. His task was to maintain the warlock gates wherever they were needed—currently, one connected the castle to Orcmound Village, where most of the palace servants came from.

“I see you’ve accepted the terms,” I said as I approached him.

The moment he laid eyes on me, he dropped to his knees.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said with a shrug. “Just behave like anyone else in the domain and do your work.”

“Truly, Lady?” He hesitated, glancing up at me cautiously. “No chains, no guard?”

I smiled. “We have a deal. You’d better hold up your end of it.”

His eyes widened slightly before he bowed his head again. “Thank you, Lady Lores,” he mumbled, still too uncertain to stand just yet.

I turned to inspect my guards and was satisfied with Drackar’s choice. He had clearly understood what I meant—these two looked like the left and right hand of Death herself.

One of them was Kurr, a hulking warrior at level eighty-five. He was a giant among orcs, towering over most, with massive tusks jutting from his lower jaw like curved daggers. His dark brown-green skin was heavily speckled with black, almost mottled like a predator’s camouflage. Broad-shouldered and thick-limbed, he carried a massive battle-axe strapped to his back, the kind that could cleave through armor and the unfortunate soul inside it. His stance was heavy, like a fortress on legs.

The other was something entirely different. A shadow warrior, level eighty-nine. He was leaner, but likely far meaner. His armor was a muted black, blending seamlessly with the faint shimmer of enchanted cloth that swallowed light instead of reflecting it. A long, curved dagger rested on his hip, its grip wrapped in dark leather, while an intricate set of throwing knives was strapped across his chest. His hood was pulled low, but beneath it, his sharp yellow eyes gleamed, watching, assessing.

I nodded appreciatively as I took them in.

“Lady Lores!” Kurr greeted with a respectful nod as I approached. At my inquiring brow, he gestured toward his companion. “This is Xartak.” Then, turning his attention back to me, he added, “Captain said you needed an escort?”

“Correct.” I glanced at Xartak, though there was no need to identify him—his presence alone made it obvious. “So, you’re an assassin.”

“Yes, Lady Lores. At your service,” he replied, his voice a low, rumbling growl. He bowed slightly, his movements smooth.

“Perfect,” I said, satisfied. Turning toward the warlock’s gate, I let a small smirk tug at my lips.

“Let’s pay my Xsoha friends a visit.”