'She has a Heart of Stone!' the Neneth Oathtaker condemned with an equally denunciatory finger that pierces her soul.

No! my heart remains pure!

'Did they promise you with Power? Money? Immortality?' her old friend Lyndis beseeched in disbelief. Her sorrowful overture shared with everyone else in that cold Vercourt barracks on that fateful day.

They showed me another world! Another way!

'You will die here Demon!' Eriande convicted her for the Abyss with her sword raised in her 'dutiful' act of purgation of all threats to the Ethuilen People as sworn by a Rainbow Helm.

Stop this madness! I am still Aliathra Lareththor, Royal Princess of House Lareththor.

'Our Daughter…' She can here the collected voice of her parents. King Aslan and Queen Elisven

'Dear Sister of mine…' then followed by her older brother and sister, Valorion and Ithiel who spoke in unison.

'For Shame! For Shame on you! Oh, woeful travesty of the esteemed Lareththor lineage. You, Aliathra Lareththor, supposed pure maiden of our sacred bloodline. Now corrupted, tainted beyond redemption in your mind, body and soul!' Her entire family renounced her.

No! This cannot be! I remain ecclesiast to Neneth, Goddess of Life. I did not wish nor desire too…

'You are not good enough!'

Please…

'Our Aliathra is dead. You were never a Warrior nor a Cleric. You will NEVER be good enough!' she can hear her Family banish her.

"NO!" Aliathra opened her eyes, and let out a great shriek.

A loud crash from a metal tray unbalanced Doctor Lee Haneul causing the Elf's ears to reverberate violently as Aliathra's breathing quickened.

"Oh dear, please calm down." Dr. Lee Haneul consoled her whilst she picked up her tray of medical tools. "But hey, at least you are awake." She smiled sweetly.

"What happened to me? I remember a fire, blood and…" Aliathra rasped but she felt the soft warmth of Dr. Lee Haneul's hand placed behind her.

Examining closely her surroundings, Aliathra noticed that the same monotonous white walls and the scent of chemical medicine bubbling around her that she was again inside New Albany's Military Hospital under the tender care of Dr. Lee Haneul, a Physician of repute that the Elven Princess has come to deeply respect for her healing abilities without the aid of Magic or Arcane instruments.

"You are back in New Albany now Miss Lareththor. You are safe herd with me." the doctor's lithe voice comforted the elf's ears.

"But… I remember… the fire… my eyes… they were seared by Eriande's… Fire Magicks. W-wha--- am I…all right?" Aliathra sobbed.

"About that…" Dr. Lee Haneul stammered.

"Is… it…" Aliathra equally stumbled in her speech.

Her heart feared the very worst, yet a part of her wishes the pain she saw, felt and inflicted upon herself, her people and her family were all just a dream. But it was for not, as the baby-faced Doctor of Korean descent presented to the Elf a transparent container, a glass jar filled with a transparent preservative liquid, retained securely within a pair pinkish-white jellies with a crimson rope linked to the said blobs. By the end of the crimson rope, was faint stains of blood coating the colorless preservation liquid in rose. It wasn't rope, to Aliathra's horror, they were blood veins. Even her Arcane-sensitive Elven physiology can detect the faint traces of Magic left behind in that macabre model. She felt the Gui of both Eriande's Fire Magicks and her own Restoration magic still left innate by those two slime blobs that were once her immaculate azure eyes.

"You suffered an Ocular Chemical burn to your eyes which unfortunately permanently blinded you." Dr. Lee Haneul gravely informed her.

"That is… impossible! I… can still see right?" Aliathra stared at the Doctor's hazelnut eyes in disbelief.

"My Surgeons had to replace your two burnt eyes with new ones." The Doctor informed her. "Eyes… Cybernetic Eyes…"

Aliathra wailed, in her heart, she is beginning to feel she is straying further and further away from her Goddesses light. She wanted mourn; to lay bare to Neneth in her darkest hour to show her a sign, anything that could alleviate the stigmata on the Elf's soul. But to her appended dread as she clawed her face with her lithe hands in a bid to forcefully expel her anguish but all she could only shed was one doleful tear. Not nearly enough to extirpate all the repressed cogitation within her mind and soul.

In such an emergency, her body exhausted her burden through her delicate nares as malachite sinus fluid escaped from her nose.

Dr. Lee Haneul, seeing the Elf's grief, grabbed three pulls of tissue paper from a box and offered the cloths to Aliathra.

"Blow." She said.

Grabbing the napkin, Aliathra released the frustrated agitation on to those pieces of cloth with a half a dozen of sternutation with the help of her breath. After her expulsion of air, Aliathra looked away from the good doctor who stood beside her with a serene smile as the Elf faced herself in the mirror.

Gazing on her reflection, the Elven Princess can see her hair lay loose and the skin on her face abnormally paler than she could remember. She was marginally encouraged when she noticed that her ocean blue eyes were still maintained despite the artificial nature of her new pairs. Tracing her head with her finger, Aliathra shivered in cold fear as she felt her lustrous skin was smoothly being glided over. But as she traced her face towards her cheeks, the Elf's sensitive nerves felt an anomalous fluctuation painted on the surface, as if there was a noticeable gap end in between a certain point on her face. Standing up from the bedside with her two prosthetic legs, Aliathra examined herself on the mirror closer. Still holding her finger over the anomalous area, the Elf zoomed in closely to her horror there were two subtle borderlines, barely visible at a closely efforted glance, on her skin stretched from above her forehead all the way down to her cheeks.

"What… did you do to me?" Aliathra turned to Dr. Lee Haneul.

"The Surgeons, they had to perform Plastic Surgery on your face in addition to installing your new pair of Eyes. I am sorry." The Doctor apologized.

Aliathra's legs collapsed, again attempting to wail mournfully but alas, only one tear was shed on her eyes. Falling again at the same edge of despair when she found out about her previous injuries, the Elf and no means to stop her body from being further overrun by these Otherworldly devices now working in tandem with her Elven body. But now, given her exocommunication from her own people. There was nowhere left to go but forward with these Otherworlders now as the Elf hated to admit, to humble, to lay prostrate to this new power. She even felt like she wanted to worship it.

"This is it…" Aliathra weeped.

She looked at her palms as the sparse sum of tears she shed fell on to their surfaces. There was no longer an Aliathra anymore, just pieces of machinery extracted from lifeless stone to be made for profit, instead of the grace of her Goddesses' selfless benefaction of her own creation. She had tried to deny the fact that she was being kept alive by these mechanical parodies of her gifts from Neneth, she tried to unleash her anger on Samantha and the rest of the You-Eff-eee, she tried so hard at first to purge the Otherworldly 'filth' enrapturing her soul, fell in the deepest darkest pits of despair and out that crevice, all that was left for her was to accept what she has become.

A Demon, just like all of the You-Eff-eee.

"My dear, everything is all right." Dr. Lee Haneul knelt down and sat down on the ground next to her. She placed her hand atop Aliathra's back as she intimately grasped her body closer to hers. In all of her few young years as a Physician, the good doctor had never had a patient who was emotionally fragile as Aliathra Lareththor.

"How? Don't you know that those Corrupted with Demonic power like this Heart of mine will use these powers for Evil?" Aliathra looked at the Doctor.

"You are not Evil Miss Lareththor. By your own logic, you cannot perform those Holy Spells that you could do. Go on, try it… on yourself." The Doctor challenged.

Wiping away her face, Aliathra waved her hands around and without effort, conjured a palm-sized luminous golden ball of Holy Magic, enough to ward off any creeping corruptions or evil presence, which astounded the Elf as she didn't feel its soft glow rend her asunder.

"But… how?" Aliathra asked.

"You are still good and I know it." Dr. Lee encouraged her, shaking her hand to excite her. "Why else did you agree to heal those sick people afflicted with that Demon Bane poison?"

"I… I… didn't want them to suffer no longer… you and the people of Tyr Rian alike… they all writhed in agony as the poison tore them apart…" Aliathra answered.

"Would an 'Evil' Person do that?" the Doctor reasoned.

"No. I devoted my life, body, and soul to the Goddess Neneth to heal the afflicted and allay all the pain and injustice in all of Gliesia."

"Then you are not being Evil or turning into Evil at all Aliathra." The Doctor advocated. "You still tried to help your people back in the Embassy, right? You gave them the chance to run away when you could as 'a Demon' just cut them down right there and there. You wish to seek peace yet your kind wishes to see all that they do not understand to be destroyed." She reasoned.

In fact, for the Elf, she did see the hypocrisy hidden beneath her people's lofty statuses when Diaz and even she pointed every little dirty secret that the Sefydliad does to maintain Ethuilen Interests in all of Gliesia through such harmfully subversive means to maintain such power. Such against the teachings of Neneth which say to respect and cherish all life, not belittle and stunt. But as Aliathra's heartbeat paced, she still remembers the Oathtakers of Neneth's denunciating words:

'She has a Heart of Stone!'

"But my Body, these… it corrupted my flesh… these… Ohg-ment-tay-shons... they turned my body into one like yours…" the Elf lamented.

"What proof do you have that Cybernetics are Evil? Because what other people told you? You never stopped and take a look at why is it 'Evil'? Do you know what an Augmentation is Miss Lareththor?" the Doctor asked.

The Elf gave pause for a moment. In her self-loathing and self-righteous despair, this word 'Augmentation' was an alien concept just as the United Federation was to Gliesia. She turned back to the doctor and balked.

"It means 'to Increase' in our language. Your heart, your legs, and your eyes they are superior in every way. Better Stamina, more durability, faster, stronger and better vision. You should be happy that what those injuries have taken didn't kill you but allowed you to come back stronger. Why? Because perhaps maybe the powers that be know that you, Miss Lareththor can still do so much good in this world. In my experience, your world of Gliesia needs more people like you. Augmentations help improve the potential in the people that it is installed with. By your own logic as a Healing Priestess, Cybernetics end-goals are the same as your Restoration Magics. To Heal, to improve, to strengthen." The Doctor lectured.

She couldn't believe how wrong she was. She had to say, her legs and heart alone made her much swifter and more vigorous compared to before. Her magic was still unimpeded despite her recent changes and deep down, Aliathra still held the beliefs to her heart of Neneth's healing grace deserving of all those who seek the shelter of her hearth.

"You, you are right." Aliathra lightened up. "I can still do good. I can still make this right. For me, for my people and all of Gliesia." She smiled.

"Good girl! I am proud of you." The Doctor cheered.

"So, what sort of 'magical' abilities do my eye---" Aliathra optimistically inquired about her cybernetics when suddenly…

"MA-ganda-ganda-ganda-gandan-ganda-ganda-gan-dang Hapon Aliathra!" Diaz's voice and his own image appeared on the corner of Aliathra's eye.

The Elf recoiled backwards, her heart skipping a beat. Blinking hard, she thought it was an illusion of her own delusion but no matter how much the Elf tried to slap herself back to the realm of sanity as she knows, the more Diaz smiled coyly.

"Ladui Han-yule?!? I can see… I see Ser Vincent!" Aliathra exclaimed.

"Diaz? He is not here… oh! Yeah… about your Eyes Miss Lareththor…" Dr. Lee Haneul stood up "Your eye comes equipped with an Eight-Gee Cellular Data Communicator."

"A what?" Aliathra asked.

"You can now talk to us from far away Alie." Diaz explained. "How are you? How's the surgery? You with Iris now?" Diaz asked.

"Iris is here too?" Aliathra asked.

"No just Iris… I'm at the supermarket right now buying snacks for Samantha. Crocker made me if you ask." Diaz replied.

"But? How? What? I… I don't understand." Aliathra further questioned. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassed confusion.

"You have installed on your head an Aparo Pharmaceuticals 'Eye-See' Vision Enhancement Package with Eight-Gee Ethernet connection. Plus, I managed to find an eye model that matches those Blues of yours." Diaz winked.

"But How can I see, and hear you when you… you are not really here?" Aliathra asked.

"The Beauty of Eight-Gee Ethernet Alie. I just wanted to check out if your Video Call receptors are working properly. Tell the Doc I'm sorry if I am interrupting anything but lemme say, with Don Aparo's complements to your practice." Diaz clicked his mouth.

"What is he saying?" the Doctor asked.

"Complements to your practice by Don Aparo." Aliathra answered.

"Thank you." Lee Haneul half-heartedly acknowledged.

"Look here, it's about Samantha right now and she really needs your help. Can you do that for her? Go with Iris to Sammy? I'm all holed up here buying some Doritos and Spaghetti for the Squad right now." Diaz asked.

"Do what for her?" Aliathra asked.

"Do what for who?" Dr. Lee Haneul asked. "I just want to let you know that just because you can see and hear Vinny doesn't mean I can to. What is Vinny asking?"

"He wants me to see Samantha with Iris." Aliathra answered.

"Oh, I know what that is. Well, for the sake of what I told you that you can still do good Miss Lareththor. You should go to her." Haneul said.

"Why?" Aliathra asked.

"She has done so much for you, to help you when you were injured and hurt from your legs and your heart. Now it's your turn to heal her. I cannot say all of the details here but it is best you come with Iris to her now. She will appreciate you being there." Haneul said.

Looking at the corner of her eye, seeing Diaz smile enthusiastically to the same vein as Dr. Lee Haneul. Aliathra's new found resolve arose a new determination. She will make this right, there was too much to lose now for her to give up and sulk on her previous failures. Her people and all of Gliesia have to see that these Otherworlders were nothing of the sorts of what the orators speak of 'Demonic' and 'Destructive'.

She vowed to protect all life from harm. Now it is time to see her vow but into action.

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

Under an inconspicuous hood to not betray her Elven ears, Lyndis waited impatiently inside the Green Cloth Inn, a semi-shady establishment that serves the passing by mariners on shore leave and the everyday burgherdom of Haringpoint's cosmopolitan systems. The little corner she managed to secure herself for her stay on the dining hall was dimly lit with a singular candle atop her stand which is, in fact, a repurposed seedy-aged barrel oak. She had previously shooed off any previous attempts for the wenches to ask for her order, stating that she was 'expecting company'. Eyeing the patrons present, coming and going for a moments respite of their day to day lives. The Sefydliad Spymaster can see Sailors intermingling with their peers, the rabble of society and even Grey Order Adventurers. Not odd for the type of person she was waiting for since the Guild's Headquarters was only a block away. But he was waiting for a very specific of their lot in this enterprise. A superciliously erect man who had just entered the hall and asked to a table with 'a certain Madame Gwathren' (a rather common alias used for Sefydliad Agents when they need to contact anyone within a public setting) and was promptly directed to his destined way. Her eyes, locked with the Adventurer's eyes and Lyndis knew that it was none other than Radred, known by his peers as 'the Flagrant'.

"Ah, Madame Gwathren I presume?" the dapper fellow approached Lyndis' empty seat.

"You could have worn something more… muted…" Lyndis commented on Radred's flamboyant attire.

A golden-skinned leather cuirass with a complementary violet cape is what he wore which infuriated Lyndis towards the human's lack of subtlety to know the end as several of the Inn's patrons gave sideward glances to their direction. Many of the Grey Order, the waitstaff and a few of the mariners have heard of this fellow before.

"You summoned the great, handsome and charming Radred. What do you expect?" the Adventurer shrugged.

"That is not the point Ser. What if someone hears of this plan?" Lyndis pushed forward.

"We'll let them know. It's not liked these days you are planning to do anything, shameful aren't you madame?" he asked.

"It's not that the task is somewhat gray in matters Ser. I have looked into your history and I know a thing you know that many others do not." Lyndis said.

"Oh?" Radred leaned forward, his hand inching closer to his dagger as his instincts kicked in.

He had done many morally dubious assignments throughout his years but he had always considered the contractual trust between him and his clients, his talents and charisma to keep him on top despite what he has done in the past ranging from 'Personnel Obtainment' to 'Item Acquisition'.

"The Emperor has recently given his blessing to the 'Chosen One' and already this morning he and his retinue of the Empire's finest were dispatched on their 'Quest to Save the World'," Lyndis said.

"I have seen the procession. Flowers, coinage, and cheers were given to them near the gates before their departure. From what I hear, their current destination is East. But Madame Gwathren, I fail to see how that affects me?"

"Petur Reikdorf? You have a history together." Lyndis took aim and played her card.

That name alone awoke an emotion hidden inside the Adventurer. An emotion of malicious resentment.

"How did you know? What is he up to? Is this Job about him?" Radred asked.

"More of, something that would get you more motivated for this job if you know what I mean." Lyndis said.

"I do not know what you mean." Radred bluntly answered.

"You see, you know that this Chosen One is getting 'the Best of the Empire' has to offer? Knights, Weapons, Followers, all of the money of the work can buy? Well one of them includes no one other than Petur Reikdorf himself." Lyndis intrigued.

"I see." Radred releases his tension, his interests now genuinely piqued.

"But tell me Ser. First, why do you hate this Petur so much?" Lyndis asked.

The Golden Skinned adventurer sighed; it was a rather sordid affair to talk about his history with one of the Grey Order's Diamond-ranked Adventurer's.

"You are right I am quite unhappy with what had transpired recently. First of all, why an infant and Copper ranked newbie can be chosen to carry the glorious task of vanquishing the Demons and not someone more senior of a warrior like me in Grey Order or knights in the Empire Knightly Orders? Secondly, why the Emperor didn't offer Me and a lot of my fellow adventurers to at least escorting that brat to his quests? At least I can be his real mentor for on how to fight the demons! I am one of the best adventurers in the Guilds, I am maybe gold-ranked but I did more quests than that fancy-faced Petur and I am more pragmatic than his silly code of 'Chivalry'. We used to be squires back on our wee days under Marchog Gratianus Faughn. However, Petur was the one who managed to attain Knighthood while I washed out. I shouldn't have been Knighted as I was much more resourceful and zealous as he." Radred shook his fist.

"I can see why." Lyndis hid her amusement. "Maybe because they often call you, 'Radred the Dishonest'."

Her research into this man yielded much more interesting bits about him than he would willingly divulge in front her, essentially a stranger.

"You shut your tongue wench." The Adventurer growled; his ego snapped. "Do not tease me with that epithet!! People might call me dishonest but I believe in a practical approach in combat because winning is everything in life. Why do people care so much about 'honor'? In battle, it is a matter of glorious victory or shameful defeat."

Radred despite his flamboyant personality was equally in terms of intrinsic scale a charismatic fellow and a venal individual. He has a reputation, perhaps a result of his resentment of being passed over for Knighthood, to be a very unscrupulous combatant and a shrewd deal maker. Always seeking every possible advantage, honorable or not for himself. There was even a rumor that some of his magical Paradoxically, he is popular with the more profit-driven and high flying members of the Grey Order for his unique brand of 'generosity' for those who follow him such as hosting lavish feasts on his tabs at various taverns across the land overflowing with decadent hedonism that even the Souvieli would find excessive. His actions, however, have gotten him and some of his associates into trouble by the Guild's administrative bodies but if it weren't for his previous achievements and relative popularity among low to mid-ranking adventurers, they tolerated him unless he gets caught in the act of something openly illegal.

"No need to hide anything from me Ser Radred 'the Flagrantly Dishonest'. I know everything and this mission shares your interests in showing that Petur fellow whose prowess will reign supreme." Lyndis honeyed words pierced the Adventurer. She intrinsically gave a pompous smile over her clever usage of the Adventurer's two-faced name.

"Color me intrigued… for now… I am listening. So, what great task shall I accomplish for you." Radred relaxed his tension before he further inquired. Any mission that could get him to jockey upwards towards his goal of trumping Petur is a welcome opportunity, even if it does mean he has to undertake such dishonorable and clandestine tasks.

Now reeled in, Lyndis prepared her thoughtfully prepared little gambit. Do impart, this Radred has no idea that he was being played like a fiddle to the Sefydliad's machinations.

"Petur Reikdorf is going to be at the vanguard of fighting these Otherworlders with the Chosen One Faithleann but I have reasons to believe that this is not the best course of action." Lyndis said.

"Faithleann? That is his name? I heard he was pretty buoyant for someone who is about to undertake something so dire. I was there at the Cathedral you see." Radred commented.

"Indeed." Lyndis nodded. "I have a friend on the inside that the boy will take his sweet time trying to fulfill all of his Quests before he could face the Demonic threat. But by then, it could possibly be too late. The hooded Elf gestured, spreading her hands open wide. "Already the Demon's played their hand by attacking this fine city herself."

Promptly, Lyndis dropped on the table a small little ring at the middle of the table that caught Radred's eyes. Upon closer examination, Radred's body emitted cold sweat when he recognizes the obsidian and aviary symbolism the ring had engraved.

"You are with the Crows?" Radred asked.

Lyndis, maintaining the lie, nodded.

"Mita, the Crowmaster and some members of the College of Magi have shared several well-rationalized beliefs on how the Empire can best survive this crisis. It is just that Emperor and the Senate has been too focused on the Theatrics of showing the people that their fears are being answered without seeing the bigger picture. Tell me Radred, do you remember how the story goes of how Caldell Slaegiac defeated the First Demonic Army?" Lyndis described.

"Pardon me, but refresh me on the matter. I only remember Caldell's Duel with Alboen at the Battle of Marnia's Bluff."

"In the Old Legends, the Demon's nearly engulfed all of what will be the Empire today but their powers come at a very steep cost. Think about it for a moment Firen, how much power can these Demon's muster to summon up that Giant Cloud that terrorized the Capital weeks ago? Alboen had to sell his soul and those of his followers for such powers. It is by the legends go, that if the Demons' especially their leaders should be exhausted by now and its only a matter of time before they can regain their strength before they launch their assault into the Empire's Heartlands." Lyndis chronicled.

"You are right. Caldell did slay many of Alboen's lieutenants and bodyguards in order to draw him out." Radred affirmed.

"With many of their leaders dead, the Demons became a disorganized lot and it was only Alboen himself that had kept them together. Besides, Demons needed Souls to fuel their powers so they must have nearly exhausted all of Tyr Rian to accomplish the feats they have done now. Think about it again Radred, why did the Demons only demand that the Empire come to them to talk instead of barging inside of Haringpoint already after decimating the Navy and the Gryphon Knights?" Lyndis reasoned.

"Because they were too exhausted taking over Tyr Rian to actually deal the killing blow." Radred speculated.

"Exactly." Lyndis leaned back and smiled. "The Demons must be licking their sores right now and it the time is nigh to deal a decisive if not a crippling blow against them at Tyr Rian herself." Lyndis says."

"Wait, you want… ME? To go to Tyr Rian?" Radred asked. "That's suicide! Surely you jest." he exclaimed.

"Would I Jest if this 'Ancillary Expedition' was approved by the Emperor himself?" Lyndis rolled out a paper and passed it across to the Grey Order Adventurer.

Seeing the Imperial Seal, a Blue Wax in the shape of a Dragon holding a sword and a cornucopia, the symbol of Imperial Power, Radred carefully locked the adhesive bindings of the parchment and examined the text closely. It had his official seal and also the seal of the Magi of College that give the entrustment of a treacherous mission to infiltrate the Vassal Principality of Tyr Rian and kill as many and take as many Demonic items that they can manage to steal before the Demons can muster a defense. A 'most handsome' reward for those who can pass as much as they can carry of 'Otherwordly Materials' to the College of Magi for intensive study. The money coming from straight from the Imperial Treasury. A promising initiative outside of waiting for the Demon's to come and holding the line of defense of the free & civilized world from the barbaric Otherworlders with the additional prospect of profit looming on the horizon for those brave or foolhardy alike to venture south. Could also help complement well for the preparation of the main defenses of Little Hill too as despite his previous apprehensions with Marchog Faughn, he still has a deep respect of the Slaegian Legionnaires.

"This is a 'Raid and Raze' sort of assignment then? A Smash and Grab of sorts to damage and study as much of these Demon's as we can possibly can?" Radred asked.

Lyndis nodded.

"I see." Radred looked down at the paper again. "But this is a dangerous task even for the best of us." Radred asserted.

The Details of the letter that the Sefydliad Agent gave him was treacherous in a way. Going down to a land beset overwhelmingly by Demons to disrupt their recuperation processes and to acquire studying materials in order to research ways how to decisively vanquish the Otherworlders once and for all was still quite a feat that even the Legionnaires of the Empire could have a difficulty with. The protracted skirmishes with the Daosne and Black Tree/Tavai Corsair battles were at a stalemate based on the news he had received.

"Unlike many enemies before. The Demons prefer raw, individual power for all of their peons, warriors, and doyens. If we can overwhelm these barbarians with the sheer number at a time, they are at their weakest we could be able to avenge that display of humiliation and if our cards play correctly, defeat it in one blow! Imagine, you instead of Petur or that bratty Copper-ranked Adventurer Faithleann being hailed as the Hero instead of you." Lyndis played into Radred's aspirations for glory. "Like for example, what if you so stumble upon the Demon Lord himself? Alboen or whomever is his successor. Are you just going to let some shiny stone n a Cathedral dictate everyone's life? Especially if one such opportunity for that 'Big Score' presents itself?"

"Surely you jest?" Radred questioned.

"And so surely, you never let Fate dictate your destiny? Would you like to prove even the Sacred Crystal Heart is wrong? Not just for you but for your fellow Guild Members that you can become the greatest of heroes?" Lyndis challenged.

Grey Order Adventurers, most especially impressionable and arising young ones or those who remained stagnated at the middle of the hierarchal pyramid of the Guild have a sense of entitlement and hot-headedness unseen in other life paths. The promises of high rewards or the thrill of perilous risks can lure and intoxicate many people of all walks of life. Fame, Ducats, Influence and the soothing consciousness of an honorable recollective Legacy is what made the Grey Order one of the most fastest-growing institutions in the world, with the unfortunate but oftentimes in a very tastelessly macabre sort of way, a high turnover rate. For every two adventurers who come in, one by the end of five years is made physically unable to continue adventuring whether willfully or not. Nonetheless, the hazards of an Adventurer are counterbalances of the one elusive 'Big Score'. It was why Radred and so many like him offered themselves up for work in the Grey Order. It had its way of attracting some of the more… improper of folks.

"I am still concerned about Tyr Rian even if I will be paid 'more than Handsomely' for 'Research Material'. How can I be sure that this little invasion that the Emperor and the College concocted under the table could be more trouble than it is worth?" Radred asked.

"Again, you underestimate the Crows." Lyndis wagged her finger to wave her superior position. "Crowmaster Mita has been to Tyr Rian herself to scout out the Demons. She has told me that although the battle was messy, they managed to take down as many of them as possible with only the Crowmaster herself escaping with her life."

"No way." Radred's eyes widened. But before he could foolhardily jump into his Big Break, his cooler head prevailed over his enthusiasm. "Hang on, but these are Demons you are talking about. I will need some very potent weaponry to even stand a chance against one of them, even if they are weakened. Hold on! How many are there? Did the Crowmaster gave a good count?" he asked.

"That can be provided by the Emperor just as he has generously bequeathed Faithleann and his Retinue oh so he will generously bequeath to those who would have the heart to venture into the Maw's of which the Otherworlder's came," Lyndis said. "And as for a count? I would say a few thousand, no less than a legion or maybe around that number. But it will grow for every day they are left to suppurate in Tyr Rian." She added.

"That's actually not too much if my memory of the legends serves me right. But then again, these are Demons we are talking about. So of course, preparation will be key… with the materials, you say the Emperor can provide. But alas, I am but one man and if you add in my little cavalcade of crass champions, you have maybe… five men." Radred counted.

"Oh, if only there is someone in the Grey Order that can convince may more of his kind to take in such a daring deed?" Lyndis faked despondency.

"Let me guess, that is where I come in?" Radred said.

"Indeed, you have the skills, the charisma, and the experience to lead such a band of Crusaders. You can rally not only those in Haringpoint but everywhere you can go until you reach the Gates of Tyr Rian herself. All I just need is one thing." Lyndis leaned forward to gesture for a whisper.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Radred promptly leaned his head forward as his left hear lay an inch cupped by the disguised elf's delicate hand and soothing voice that tingles the unscrupulous adventurer's ear.

"Despite all of this involving you and your fellow colleagues, this is NOT a Grey Order Quest. Nobody must find out less this opportunity of yours gets the 'Unauthorized' stamp by some bureaucrat." Lyndis whispered.

Radred shuddered, an 'Unauthorized' stamp kills off any chances of fair compensation and any sort of growth in the Guild's hierarchy and can also be causes for the Law Lords to intervene and arrest all parties involved.

"Then how can I gather people to this cause? Six won't be enough." Radred asked.

"You have made more than those friends of yours in your travels have you not? Especially other Grey Order Guildsmen, independents and all other sorts of rogues." Lyndis suggested.

Now that he was thinking of it, the hooded woman was correct, he does have some people to refer to that he can trust with a few whispers and promises of discretion within the Guild. Additionally, he does have underground contacts throughout Ysanigrad that he can whisper a few short words in and at a times like this, the Emperor could not afford to be a beggar towards those who would answer the call of duty or in this case money.

"And the Materials?" Radred further inquired. "I will need blessed weaponry and maybe a few Holy Scrolls too make this work."

"Do not worry about that. All you need to do is to gather your pack, oh Brave Wolf, when you have everyone you can muster, ask 'for the Sunsetting Earth lies on this dome' here in this establishment again. You have a week to spread the word." Lyndis said.

Little that Radred knows, is that the owner of the Inn was a Sefydliad Informant.

"Even the Demon Lord who is leading the invasion will be exhausted too. Wouldn't you too want the opportunity to strike him down?" Lyndis egged, knowing that Radred will not resist the chance to triumph over his hated peers.

"Very well, I will find my friends. Good day Madame Gwarthen." Radred begged his leave. Leaving the table with an eager but roguish smile on his face.

Lyndis smiled. Her plan works and she played that loathsome Adventurer like a fiddle. Indeed, he knows not nor what his networked colleagues and associates know of the Sefydliad's Spy Master's true intentions. To be pawns, as expendable and as many as it can be for the TRUE Raid onto Tyr Rian. She will see these Otherworlders first hand of their strange might, and perhaps avenge her loses if she could with Prince Clovich and her little brat of a sister Aria herself. All that Radred and his merry band have to do was to cause a loud enough ruckus for her to observe these Demon's and their ways and how they managed to not only rise up so quickly but also how they could defeat so many of her chess pieces in this little game of Subterfuge and Stratagems. The thrill of placing all of her pieces into place as she creates her grand design will be oh so satisfying.

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

Crocker swiped down his ID Card for Aliathra as she was allowed access into New Albany's underground Science Lab deep below the Military District of the Federation's colony. Alongside the eerily blue-eyed Elf was Diaz who carried on his person a plastic bag of snacks and goodies. She can see his smile facing her as they descended down on the elevator leading them to the facility.

"So… Alie how is your eyes?" Diaz asked.

"In all honesty, I couldn't tell the difference at first until you appeared before me." Aliathra replied.

"You stopped by at the Hospital?" Crocker asked Diaz.

"Oh no, Video Call. She got some Eight-Gee on her head." Diaz explained.

"Damn it Diaz, you must have scarred the poor girl. Haven't she suffered enough." Crocker reprimanded.

"I am fine Ser Crocker." Aliathra defused. "I… actually find being… able to talk to people at long distances to be… good." She said.

"Hey, do you know that your new eyes can do not just call people?" Diaz informed interrogatively.

The Elf stood silently there with her new cybernetic blue eyes as she lay frozen in curious confusion.

"Think of the Weather Alie." Diaz said. "Think of the weather and Eye-See will listen."

"What do you mean my new Eyes will… what are those?" Aliathra inquired.

Spotted at the bottom corner of her eye, or at least in her perspective was a series of numbers and symbolisms inhabiting that said corner. No matter how she tried to shift her gaze, the images remain at the same place. She can see what could be seen as a vividly reproduced image of the Gliesia's sun, Malynaris followed by a tuft of feathery white clouds. There was also an Earthling number of a double-digit size that Aliathra couldn't understand which sat adjacent the Earthling alphabetical letter 'C' with a small hollow circle that the Elf nearly mistook for a dot on its upper right corner.

"Your 'Eye-See' blue eyes can tap into a Weather Satellite and tell you what's the weather like for you at your location. Haha!" Diaz chuckled. "Eye-See, and Icy. That's a good one."

"Yes… yes… indeed it is." Aliathra mustered what she can garner from her rapidly overwhelmed the emotional capacity of wonder, curiosity and her earlier previous fears.

The Elevator Doors ring sounded to life as the light motion of descent stopped. Aliathra still has yet to get used to the feelings that these alien contraptions produced.

Until the Elf's eyes met with the blank blood-red glowing orbs attached to a decayed skull standing in front of her. The skull had a body below it and it was bandaged with a linen cloth and the odorous smell of burial spices. An evil sensation crawled over Aliathra's skin as she realized the being that stood to welcome her and her friends from the elevator to be none other than a

"Ah, Ser Crocker you have finally returned." Old Lich of Tyr Rian himself, Martainne's deep voice echoed as he greeted them as the elevator's doors opened.

"Lich! Take cover!" Aliathra exclaimed.

The Elf's instinct kicked in and her muscle memory raised her arms towards the Lich as she begins to cast a Holy Spell towards the vile creature.

"Whoa!" Crocker pushed down Aliathra's spell as it was about to fire away from the Holy Blast of light, harmlessly impacting not Martainne but the Elevator's floor instead. "He is a friend! This Lich is helping us." Crocker explained.

"But he is a vile monster that enslaves people's souls!" Aliathra argued.

"Enslavement? Do you mean my Skeleton Army and Workers?" Martainne asked.

Aliathra nodded as she shuddered at the Lich's decrepit presence, his scent reeked with rot and the corroded linen cloth that cloaked his body which lives between the realms of ethereality and material existence. As for Martainne, a glance of his eyes examining the blond-haired woman who attempted to lay a finger on him exposed Aliathra's Elven leaf-shaped ears that protruded from her golden braids.

"What have we here? An Elf of Alfel-Nora? Centuries have passed, yet your people still haven't changed at all. Still thinking any other way but your own is inferior or outright blasphemous." Martainne spat with sarcasm.

"Just calm down Princess, we are all friends here." Diaz added.

"A Princess? How did you?!?" the Lich looked at Crocker and Diaz with his skeletal face emphatically emitting an aura of visible confusion. "Like, a member of the Royal Family? The Lareththors?" the Lich asked.

Both of the two nodded silently, confirming the Lich's begrudging fears.

"If it weren't for you Sefydliad I would have perfected my Serum if it weren't for your grandfather." Martainne scolded.

"Do not speak ill of King Coreranil, Lich. You are an Unholy Monster! I know what kind of horrible things you are capable of doing. You can raise an army of skeleton soldiers by enslaving people's souls. He is not your friend Otherworlders; he will turn all of you into part of his Ghoul army!" Aliathra alarmed.

"Who told you my necromancy is all about enslavement? They are not Slaves. Merely an extension." The Lich reasoned with his cold but soft-spoken voice. "Those Skeletons, they have no Will. If a being has no Will how can it be enslavement you speak of? They are just tools, powered by my magic."

"But the people, their bones…" Aliathra muttered.

"They willingly let me use their bodies for a greater purpose than themselves. When it means that they can continue to serve their children and their descendants long after they pass." Martainne justified calmly.

"They, willingly let you use their bodies after they died?" Aliathra's heart skipped in disbelief.

"Yes, how else was Ancient Tyr Rian able to be the only settlement to have an irrigation system and walls compared to everyone else except the Slaegians?" Martainne challenged. "All of my Necromancy is to create a substitute for slavery by using corpses of my loyal subjects as a labor force who will work days and nights tirelessly. The skeletons are void of the soul as only my magic controls them. Besides, Skeletons don't complain nor try to revolt and you never have to worry about feeding them as long as a Mana Crystal conduit is present by their side." The Lich continued.

"Essentially like Robots. You know the one's you see in Kesserheim. Something akin to that Alie." Crocker added.

"That doesn't justify you being the origin of Necromancy King Martainne 'Hierarch of the Dead'. The Black Elves use your book 'llyfr o Orchymyn y Meirw' to create Ghouls for their armies." Aliathra said.

"What do you mean the Black Elves uses Ghouls?" Martainne asked. "And what do you mean your estranged kin have my rubbish notes?"

"Rubbish notes?" Aliathra asked. To say she was left dumbfounded by the Lich, the progenitor of Necromancy to call his own creations 'Rubbish' astounded her.

The Elven Cleric to Neneth had thought of Liches as imperial beings who prided themselves on their mastery upon the manipulations of Life. An affront to the core teachings of Neneth's dogma of respecting the natural order of all living things and to mend the deviations and occasional disjunctions that disharmonizes the Goddesses creation.

"That book was never meant to be used as a proper Spell Book! There is a reason why I do not use Ghouls!" the Lich said, alarmed on Aliathra's epiphany.

"You do not know what, Ghouls are? AND the 'llyfr o Orchymyn y Meirw' is NOT a Spell Book?" Aliathra inquired.

"It's just the refuse of my research. I haven't even perfected some of the 'Spells' in those books." The Lich said. "And what are these…'Ghouls' you speak of?" he asked.

"The Black Elves would gather up all of the dead of their soldiers or those that they have killed then reanimate them into these… these… decaying… things and they use them as fodder and screening troops for their armies. The Yeojegung's Imperial Army broke when they saw their loved ones rise up to kill them." Aliathra explained.

"Oh, I see what they did… perhaps it must have somehow ended up with the Black Tree Pact after the Empire had conquered Tyr Rian." The Lich concluded. "But listen here Elf, there is… a very good reason why these 'Ghouls' that you speak of were as I said, were junked by my research into Necromancy." Martainne pointed out his voice softening upon gaining his bearings on this slight to his life's work.

"What do you mean by that?" Crocker asked.

"These 'Ghouls' or I just call them simply the 'Ail-ystyried' as I remember calling them make terrible… well… everything. Raising them enmasse is too efficient for whatever you want to accomplish and the fact they bring disease and are so vulnerable to a concentrated effort of outside interference such as a Magic Fireball made them too… unfeasible when I was researching them. It was way more profitable to animate and then automate a clean skeleton or a mummified corpse after all of the useless… flesh rots away. The extra amount of Magic inputted is worth the trouble when it comes to the incantations. Besides, the Ail-ystyried often tend to go berserk or may not even follow your commands at all now that I had remembered how my experiments went. I blame the fact that they still retain faint traces of their Cof, their living memory still attached to their rather… eroding… heads. These… estranged kin of yours perverted my refuse! How vulgar of them!" The Lich cringed in disgust.

Aliathra stepped back, she could not believe what she has heard from the supposed 'Architect of Necromancy'. She had thought of him as someone obsessed with immortality, despotism, and narcissism. But instead, she is talking to a placid almost serene even, Undead King who just wanted to build what is best for his people at an ancient time where everything had to be done with the painstaking effort of hand with primitive tools for meager returns. His voice, the way he deflected and masterfully defended himself against her accusations astounded her. Martainne was nothing like the conspectuses of books and histories detailing all the Monsters and vile archival figures of the darkest pasts had described.

"Oh… Ghouls are Zombies in Gliesia? You will be both surprised that killing Zombies by the droves in the Federation is considered a fun past time." Diaz chuckled.

"Grandfather!" Iris interrupted Aliathra and Martainne's confrontation. "What is taking you so long?" the Vampire Witch asked.

"My Child." Martainne turned to the Vampire Witch. "This snooty little Elf Maid thinks that I am a Tyrant!" the Lich flicked his finger towards Aliathra.

"Ser Mahelona needs our presence at the Testing Hall at once." Iris alarmed.

"Damnation! Fine, we will settle this later." the Lich cursed as he turned away from this minor contest of ideologies as he followed his granddaughter through the silver halls of the Underground Science Facility.

"Come now Alie, just do what I say for now and I will share you some of the Potato Chips." Diaz ordered.

Rushing through the halls of the facility, Aliathra was led to a great spherical dome, a chamber of sorts with a translucent canopy that surrounded a great theater of many onlooking Otherworldly Scholars that Aliathra knows are called by the Federation as 'Sigh-yen-tiss' observing the phenomena below. Looking inside, Aliathra spotted one of the few Otherworlders she could emphatically correlate herself with, a one 'Luu-Ten-Nant' Samantha Rose placing her hands within a bowl of ice water, her hands bandage with snow-white linens pinkened with her blood and partially thick burns especially within the palms and wrists of the intrepid redhead. The gnashing of her teeth and the impassioned screams that the Elf hear made her realize that Rose was in. Her veins glowed volcanically in pure blue light as the Mana Energies fluctuated around her like moths to a flame. It was raw, unrefined and too powerful for any living being to withstand such flooding. She was suffering under the effects of Mana Encumbrance.

"What is happening here?" Martainne asked, his granddaughter too equally alarmed.

"The Subject is overloading! Martainne that potion now!" Agent De Sardet ordered.

The Lich, from out of his pocket grabbed a jade-colored bottle with his withered hands and glided towards Samantha as he places the bottleneck onto her mouth. The potion was a classical cure for Mana Encumbrance.

"Drink this infanc." Martainne said.

As she swallowed the potion, the glowing blue veins dimmed and the Energies surrounding her dissipated into smoky steam as sweat glistened Samantha's exposed skin.

"That was close. For a second I thought I had to execute her." De Sardet sulked in relief.

"What were you trying to do Ser Mahelona?" Iris asked.

"You know, see how she could take all of that Mana for me. I passed along some of that Mana that Zatrek provided us but suddenly Samantha started to go overload according to my senses." The Scientist answered.

"That is very dangerous you know. Her training needs to be done by proper Mages like me and my Granddaughter here." Martainne said.

The UFE Scientist turned his gaze to Aliathra and with a gladdened face he turns his rotund body to her.

"You're the 'Gooey' specialist, right? Eh… Flow?" Mahelona asked the Elf.

"Uh… yes. I know how to help channel Magic by hand." Aliathra said. "The Problem I see with Samantha is that she is channeling her Mana wastefully. This build-up of excess Mana adds up to the risk of Mana Encumbrance."

"I just call it 'Overload'." Mahelona commented.

"If I recall, Elves can naturally cast magic with less reliance for Wands and Staffs," Iris said.

"Something I tried to mimic for your granddaughter," Martainne asked.

"Can you show me?" Samantha asked.

"Follow my hand," Aliathra instructed.

The Elf's fingers performed to what the Elves pioneered and mastered, the Somatic Art of the Changing Hand or Alura Spar. The Elven Cleric, with centuries of experience under belt, tucked her right middle and ring finger with her thumb while raising her index and little finger. For her left hand, she curled around her hand making sure the knuckles side of her left hand is facing her body. She then proceeded to tuck her ring finger but not her little finger but instead let it stretch flatly across away from her.

"Follow my movement," Aliathra ordered. She stood up and began to blast away a short burst of Mana, its energy blasting forward with her right hand, still in the same Somatic Position she had set up, pushing forward while her left hand faced opposite away from her as her feet stood with her right foot forward.

Aliathra maybe ambidextrous but upon close observation with Samantha's movement patterns, she knows that the redhead is righthanded. This is an important aspect of Alura Spar's teachings as the studies say that the strong dominant hand has the strength to give, to emit, and to grant whatever the person wishes to output. The opposite is said for the weaker non-dominant hand for its purpose is to receive, to absorb and to take in. The Changing Hands techniques, however, were more of an Elven Exclusive art only taught within the walls of Parvia's Arcane Academy. Most Humans would rather invest in the creation of tools such as wands, staffs and even arcane jewelry to help channel their Gui efficiently but for the Elves, it was as natural as breathing.

Following Aliathra's commands, Samantha screeched as a ray of raw Magic burst through her hands. But unlike her previous attempts to harness her powers, Samantha could feel like the Mana, the foreign substance that her body had an unnatural affinity… and worse a craving for was being harmonized within her. For the first time in a long while, the Lieutenant's body felt like it was reverting back to normal, ever since she had absorbed that one magic blast, she had taken in Souviel. At first, the sensation was exhilarating, like if she had tasted a great new flavor of ice cream that she would instantaneously become addicted too. As it was, the absorption of Mana was like a stimulating drug to her. But then, too much of a good thing can be inevitably bad. When she had eaten that Mana Crystal whole, Samantha felt a great burn within her that was slowly building her insides up that her body urges her to evacuate. She could if it weren't for the fact that releasing the Magical Energies within her wasn't so unbearably painful. That is why Martainne and Iris were there and the bowl of ice water was by her side. But at a moment of weakness, she nearly got herself killed by stabilizing the Mana Energies within her by keeping them locked inside when it was beyond her capacity to contain them safely. Agent De Sardet was ordered by Major Holyfield with executive approval from Governor White to execute her if she became too much of a risk to herself and her fellow Earthlings.

The Lieutenant collapsed onto the ground, still burning from her previous brush of Mana Encumbrance but overall satisfied. Like after a long but fruitful workout, Samantha inhaled and exhaled calmly as the Scientists in the room began to whisper and exchange their notes eagerly with one another.

"I think you did it," Iris said.

"We did!" the Lich Martainne cheered.

"That… felt much better." Samantha smiled. "Thank you."

"No, thank you for Opening my Eyes." Aliathra smiled.

"What do you mean?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Your people, all of them. You are not Demons. Your people can never be as kind, accepting and loving to someone like me. No Demon could do that." Aliathra answered.

"About time you do Aliathra, about damn time you do..." Samantha smiled.

"So, enlighten me then Otherworlder. What happened to you?" Aliathra asked as she examined the testing chamber that she was in. It was like a centrifugal theater where the actors play at the middle of a wide circle and the audience, the Scientists observe her from above.

"I was… obliged to agree to undergo several dangerous tests to see the extent of my powers. I can absorb mana and release them but it hurts to do the releasing part." Samantha cursed.

"Your kind is still new to our magic. So, whatever you do with your powers or with your Mana you need to consult me or Iris first. Don't be reckless!" Aliathra scolded the Lieutenant.

"Recklessness is just the fun part of Science Aliathra, this happens in my world all the time since sometimes progress requires to do something stupid," Samantha said.

"Same for me, I nearly light my house on fire over a botched Potion experiment once. You and many of your Elven kind are too risk-averse, you never try to do something new, always take the tried and true methods to heart." Iris added.

What the Vampire Witch said was indeed true for Aliathra. She had always stuck to the teachings that her professors, instructors, and any authoritative figure told her, passed down from their predecessors, again and again for millennia. But look at what all that they had taught got both her and potentially themselves into. The worst that could happen is that they may be crushed violently under the Federations boot. But if by the divination of her Goddess or whomever it may be, she has the power to prevent a calamity. Right now, she needs to continue allowing these Otherworlders to play her in the present. Perhaps one day, she may return home, and definitely not as a 'Demon'.

"May I ask another question, Ladui Rose? If you were testing out your powers then where are the targets or training dummies you are supposed to test yourself with?" Aliathra asked.

"You see those black spots that smell like ash? Those were the targets. Iris set them up for practice." Samantha bluntly said.

Aliathra noticed the burnt marks that tainted the grey ground of the testing chamber and the Elf was both unsurprised and fearful of what extent Samantha's powers is capable of.

"Bravo. Bravo!" a voice echoed down from the theater above. "I knew this would be worth my Interest."

A silver man in a black suit descended upon the Native Magic-users, Samantha and Doctor Mahelona while under a heavy escort of two mechanized bodyguards armed to the teeth in cybernetics. The carefree Doctor Mahelona tensed his hunchbacked spine straight as the man a quarter of his scale walked towards him. Samantha too, wobbled back up with all the remaining strength as she could to do the same. Combining that by the considerable security he brought with him, Aliathra, Iris and Martainne knew that he is held in much more importance than the likes of all other 'Leaders' that they have met. They all had very unusual names like 'Scientist' and 'Squad' mixed with familiar words like 'Chief', 'Governor' and the word 'Leader'. What can this man's rank they wonder? To strike fear into the heart of all of them combined.

"Thomas Sight. Ministry of Education. English Professor and Political Theorist extraordinaire." the silver-skinned bald man said. "I have crossed the stars to meet you." His voice was a mix of a monotonous robotic voice that was smoothed out in an uncanny attempt to sound something vaguely coherent.

None of the native Gliesians could forget the sight of this man's face. His eyes had no natural irises, instead, multiple led lights glow like miniature suns conjured up the Otherworlder's unique interpretation of the ocular organ. His neck was of another description entirely, in contrast to his silver-white skin, his neck was pitch black with a supporting mechanism across opposite ends of his neck that pumps up and down with each slight jounce of his head.

"Your too gracious Ser. So, you come to study our Magic I presume?" Martainne returned his pleasantries.

"Not just that. But I will also be Prince Clovich's Official Liaison to the Federation's ruling party, the Common State Party. That's being someone who lives and helps advise the Prince on many matters from here on out." Thomas said.

"Oh, I see. The Prince as I have heard has taken an interest in your Otherworldly powers. Me included." Aliathra nodded.

"I know your very curious case Miss Lareththor. I have to say that you have both my personal and the Party's condolences. But I am quite pleased to see you are doing well for yourself especially with those." Thomas nudged Aliathra' steel bladed legs by lightly kicking them.

"You know, you are quite different than the other ones I have met." Iris commented. "Most of your people tend to be either very impassioned or very shrewd."

"You, of course, speak of Governor White, Major Holyfield, and Colonel Polonsky? All three loyal without fault. It's just how they show their loyalty is what makes them different. Tell me, Miss Cadohagan I presume? What do you think of them?" Thomas leaned forward to ask.

"Holyfield speaks like a Preacher but he backs those words with his actions with so much zeal. He is no Hypocrite, that is for sure. As for Ser Polonsky? He is calm and always tries to think ahead. He is also very caring for the men he works with. And the Governor? I see him as someone who will get the job done and will do anything to see it through. I like that in people, people with Zeal and Devotion but take the time to commune with those

"That is pretty interesting, from someone who has to live alone for most of their life." Thomas nodded. "That also reminds me, since you and the Elf are perhaps our best sources on how Magic can work here in Gliesia you should be able to teach what you know to Miss Rose too." The Wig said.

"Are you proposing to us to be Miss Rose's instructors?" Iris asked.

"Of course, you will be well compensated for the trouble and we can even provide you your own lodging as long as you agree to teach Miss Rose everything you know." the Liaison explained.

"My own home? I cannot say no to that. I accept." Iris accepted without hesitation.

As for Aliathra, she hadn't quite thought through about how she would actually live inside New Albany yet. She knew that she was essentially a prisoner in a Gilded Cage with a lofty title. All dancing like a puppet to the whims of her UFE Masters. But even some form of freedom, her own abode where she can peacefully meditate and contemplate herself would be most welcome.

"I… agree." She said reluctantly.

"Great, I will have you be arranged to live in the same House together immediately." Thomas Sight said.

"What!?!" Aliathra and Iris exclaimed.

Living together, a Cleric of the Life Goddess Neneth and the Antithesis to her teachings, a Vampire was almost impossible to be seen true.

"Surely you…" Iris tried to negotiate but Thomas stopped her.

"Look I know that you two are the opposite of each other in species but you two are among the top mages we have right now to teach Sam and may I remind that you two still owe us a lot. We gave you all of what you have so far and imagine where would you be without us? There is still so much we can do together so you shouldn't back down now." appealed to their interests and previous favors.

Thinking back at the moment, both of them feel that they do owe a lot of things to the UFE. For the Vampire Witch, they released her from Devicco's harassment and sheltered her from the persecution of the Inquisition not to mention giving her a chance of having a life where she is accepted for the way she is. In the case of the Elf, the UFE saved her life at least 3 times already so she feels deeply indebted to them. Plus the recent actions of her kind could lead to her kins destruction if she is not there to bridge the gap between her people's aloof heads against the UFE's guns. Both Iris and Aliathra had their own reasons for wanting their own home. An additional security measure of having dual positions in the UFE's machinery will secure her place in New Albany politically speaking. For the Elven Cleric-Ranger, sleeping in such an uneasy place alone in the cold green grass maybe something she has been trained to do. But under close monitoring and her still shaky trust with the Federation see's that in her own personal wellbeing, she needs a form of shelter where she can call her own spaceless, she has to sleep under the gazing eyes of the men in the Mechbay of the Garrison or inside Diaz's Car.

"I accept." Iris nodded as she stared at the Elf with hostile intent, her face, stoic not to betray her true feelings. Perhaps when she does move inside her albeit shared home, she can at least invite that handsome Kayin to help warm the abode and even help her move in the inevitable furniture she will have to set up inside.

"Yes. I will accept too." Aliathra followed suit. When they get to their new home, they will have to establish certain rules to draw the line in the sand of where they can or cannot be in.

"Very good! Then let the limits of what can be done with Magic be pushed ever further with your insight." Thomas smiled.

"You and I think quite alike." Martainne commented.

"Indeed, it is good to see someone who loves to solve problems as much as I do. Perhaps we can speak again over Coffee, a meeting of the minds." The UFE Minister proposed.

"I can't drink. I am a Lich." Martainne bluntly said.

"Oh yeah…" Thomas awkwardly paused.

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

Iris and Aliathra sighed as they crashed themselves unto the Underground Lab's cozy break room. It had been a long day since the two were just dismissed from debriefing with Doctor Mahelona's team on Samantha's conditions and what are the plans for Samantha moving forward. Despite the training regimes that they planned from how to properly manage the Lieutenant's Mana flow in her body in the meantime before she can get her suit in order. To Aliathra's astonishment, who has her fair share of witnessing Arcane related Armorsmithing, the Aparo Corporation and the cooperating UFE Scientists sure had an excellent plan of creating a suit of armor that can allow the Lieutenant to store her Mana properly, monitoring said levels, siphon more of Mana when commanded too and also to release said energies efficiently with the two minerals, associated with everything Arcane in Gliesia, Actocolite, and Ghyranite. One for storing mana, the other for releasing it. To both of the Gliesian mages, such a project had never been undertaken in the history of their lives or any other records that could suggest such an attempt. They had always thought that Actocolite and Ghyranite were two polar opposites that can never intermingle, like fire and ice, oil and water, Humans and Daosne.

"You know Iris, the way your teachings worked on Ladui Rose was very presumptuous. You nearly got her killed." Aliathra reprimanded Iris.

"It's not like I have 'the natural affinity' for it Elf. Your way is too soft, she will never learn anything if she doesn't know how to push herself to reach it." Iris said.

"My training was refined and passed down by the Greatest of Spellsingers for generations. And you? An accident by some hubristic backwater king who wanted power for his own sake." Aliathra pointed.

"Because he was envious of your kind Elf. We Vampires have to train ourselves in secret at best or just rely on sheer power to survive as Apostates. You can freely roam around your pretty pink paradise without a care in the world. Me? I had to teach myself all of what I know!" Iris argued.

"And yet you lack the means to step back and think before you act." Aliathra said.

"And yet you lack the means to initiate!" Iris argued back "You stand there and wait for your opponents to begin." Iris countered.

"There is no beginning nor an end in Elven Culture, have you ever wondered why Elven books had such a peculiar design?" Aliathra mentioned.

"I recall, they are circular design and all of the pages are attached to a central spine like the spokes of a cartwheel. I think I remembered seeing one being sold by a merchant in Tyr Rian, couldn't afford it at the time." Iris said.

"Indeed, neither a beginning nor an end, just what happens in front of you." Aliathra nodded. "What matters to Rose is what happens to her now. She must let the Gui within her dictate her move. Let her see the full spectrum of the Winds of Magic before she decides on where she calls to next." Aliathra said.

"I disagree. Samantha shouldn't devote herself fully into one discipline of Magic, she must be able to reach out to other forms too! Let her take control of her power and unleash it to wherever she pleases." Iris said.

"Then let me agree to disagree on everything but that," Aliathra concluded.

"About what?" the Vampire Witch asked.

"Only Samantha knows how to use her powers. Who are we to judge what she does with them? All we can do is teach her how to use it safely." Aliathra said.

"Agreed… and effectively." Iris nodded.

Just as then, the door of the break room opened as a large man walked inside carrying multiple bags of food on his hands. By the way, his brown beard was unfurled down, it was none other than Stryder Group's resident Sharpshooter and proud parent, Obediah Root.

"Greeting's Ser Root." Iris sent her salutations.

But the man didn't respond, instead, he dropped all of the bags carrying chips, soda, coffee and candy onto the counter table's surface across where Aliathra and Iris sat and walked at first quietly to the water cooler next to it.

"Ah… hello girls… nice morning we are… having." Obediah's voice, instead of his usual cheerful self, it was cracked and under duress despite the calming tone he futilely tried to mask under.

"It's about to be sunset Obediah. Are you alright? Shouldn't you be happy now that you have reunited with your family again Ser Root?" Aliathra asked. She knows its sunset thanks to the Visual Stimuli on her new 'Eye-See' telling her that above at the surface, Malynaris is now setting down, to allow her sister Calyriel to rise above her in place.

"Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everythignisnotfuckingfine! GODAMN YOU! IAMFUCKED! IAMFUCKED! MYDAUGHTERISFUCKED! MYWIFEISGOINGTOFUCKME!" Obediah tried to retain his calming voice, clumsily repeating the same phrase before he croaking and descending into expletives.

"By Neneth's Grace! Calm down! What is happening with you?" Aliathra stood up from her seat and walked towards the backsettled Obediah with Iris following on his trail.

"It's April's Birthday in about a week and I haven't gotten so many things in order!" Obediah despaired. "I need to secure a venue, get catering and provide entertainment!" he cried.

"There is no need to cry about it." Iris said.

"Do you know what kind of TORTURE! It is to hear April cry? On her very special day among all others? I am NOT going through that again. I want to give her the best eighth birthday party she will ever have!" He said.

"But crying here won't help your daughter's celebration come to fruition." Aliathra reasoned.

"I know! But everything is just going wrong! I can't seem to juggle finding all three of what Leah told me to get for the party. The venue, the Food, the Entertainment!" Obediah pulled his hair. "If only I had some Magic way of solving all of this…" he sulked down to the counter, slamming his arms onto the marble surface.

He needs something Magical if he were to get out of this challenge of Parenthood alive (mentally speaking). But then it hit him, something Magical. Obediah turned to the two mages and smiled, his burdensome eyes filling with his tears tried to straighten up as he made his appeal to them.

"Are you available to go to my home and do a little, Practice? If you want to help me after your done training Samantha with her Magic Classes can you… like… provide said 'Magic' for my Daughter's Birthday Party?" he asked.

"That might seem quite a stretch good ser. We just are about to move into a new home that---" Iris tried to tactfully decline.

"I will pay you! One thousand credits to show up for practice everyday and then Fifteen thousand for doing the Magic Show on April's Birthday. Please, do it not just for me you two, but for my little April." He appealed.

"Well if there is some coin involved, I accept." Iris smiled.

"But Iris, are you sure we should agree to this…" Aliathra dejected but the Vampire witch hushed her.

"Trust me with this Elf. You are going to need these 'Credits' this man will give you if you even want to make your stay in New Albany, somewhat tolerable with me around." Iris whispered.

"Very well I accept too." Aliathra sighed, if it was for her own sake of having to live in the same household as the 'Unholy' Iris.

"Wonderful!" Obediah cheered. "That's one dashing Magician and one beautiful 'Princess' for April's princess-themed Birthday party!" he mentioned.

A 'Princess' Birthday party? Aliathra shivered silently at the hearing of that. Memories of all the strict lessons, etiquette and the pompous superficiality of talk haunted her mind. What on Gliesia's green earth did she get herself into?

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

Today's tour for Clovich was a Factory, but not just any normal run of the mill factory. But THE Factory for the United Federation's Armed Forces. The Tahoe-Reno Industrial Megaplex an all Government-owned Industrial Park whose sole purpose in life was to produce the Arsenal of the UFEAF. Although there were a couple of dozen of Megaplexes all over the Federation's territories of similar and even larger size, Tahoe-Reno was the oldest and where all the practices of mass-produced Arsenals based their models on.

Prince Clovich marveled at the sight of the Federations Military might produce endlessly and tirelessly by the steel arms of the robotic drones that inhabit the factory. From Military Jeeps to Weapons of War it was like the strength of millions of Black Smiths had concentrated into one area to do their craft. He had been to Dwarven Forges as a child when he had toured his neighbors with his late father by the greatest of Volcanic Forges of Kur Fahldur before. But it paled like an ant to a dragon that was Tahoe-Reno. All of the Forges, Smithy's and Ironworks around to compare were horrendously slow, insignificant and pathetic compared to what he has witnessed. The speed of the Federation's industry was breathtaking and equally terrifying to behold. One loss of their machines of burden and they can easily replace three times even. Sometimes he still cannot believe all of these wonders of manufacturing are built and done without a single trace of magic. Furthermore, these so-called machines can work effectively days to days without the needs of rest with such precision, details, volume and speed that makes an army of slaves back home in Slaegians-slave city looked unproductive in comparison.

He even got the chance, allowed by the Factory Workers as to try on several of their inventions and ho what fun he and his entourage had interacting with them.

The Prime Minister has got to say, his Otherworldly guest look very silly wearing the knightly Tactical Mesh Helmets.

"Such Power! What kind of Magic do you Earthlings possess?" Edmurl asked.

He was examining the test-firing of a rod-shaped device that was no larger than a well-built man's arm. At first, the wizened old mage who advises all that is arcane to Prince Clovich dismissed the device as something of a mere toy. But when the rod fired away with a great blast of smoke, a projectile that dashed faster than his eye could see towards a wall set up meters away and obliterating it on sight, Edmurl jumped onto the Weapon Tester.

"Not Magic, just Science." The Engineer responded.

"Hey, this Helmet is actually easier to breathe in." one of Clovich's Knights commented when he alongside his Lord put on the Tactical Mesh Helmets that the UFE standard issues to their soldiers.

"Imagine, my Knights and the Men-at-Arms wearing all of this." Clovich dashingly bragged as he toted a UFEAF's Combat Rig to the (enforced) approval of his traveling companions.

"You do look quite great… wait… you want to have your men have this?" Bousqet asked.

The Prince nodded. But for a moment of brief Silence, the Prime Minister gave pause. He knew there was a risk in giving the Otherworlder's there weapons but there was also the benefit of being able to puppet control over them through the Party-owned Military-Industrial Complex. It was much more preferable than letting the Megacorpos, even if it was Aparo Corpo monopolize Gliesia's entire untapped riches. There was also the double-edged effect of having an Army of Natives equipped with UFE weaponry to have a hit-or-miss effect on the local populace. It could either generate legitimacy on the UFE's interests in peaceful coexistence with them or the worst it could frighten Tyr Rian's neighbors into hostile action. If it were not the way, Clovich smiled at the prospects of uplifting himself for not his own sakes but for his people and his sister's sakes, the Princes prospects would have been doomed from the start. Instead, the Prime Minister decides to roll his dice. Fortune favors the bold after all.

"Well, that could be arranged." Bousqet smiled.

Just then, his cellphone rang. Looking down on the screen it was an Interstellar call from all the way from Gliesia. It was Major Holyfield, the Commander he had sent to bolster the new colony's security. By the way, he had to pull the strings to get a direct line with the Chairman of the High Command Commission, this must better be of most importance.

"May you excuse me for a moment." He begged for his temporary leave. "Please enjoy your time in Tahoe-Reno for now."

Walking towards a secluded area, the Prime Minister pressed his finger on the green button of his phone's screen and started the call.

"Chairman, there has been a development." Major Holyfield grizzled voice reverberated on the speaker.

"What happened now Major? I thought you had the situation under control." The Prime Minister answered.

"A new development has occurred that requires your attention," Holyfield informed.

"Will this affect our long-term goals in Benham-3?" Bousqet asked.

"Yes." The Major bluntly nodded.

The Prime Minister sighed. When will these Natives learn that they cannot fight the cascading river?

"Make this quick, what do you need?" the Prime Minister opened himself.

"The defense back in New Albany requires additional security measures and we could use more materials for White's Infrastructure program," Holyfield said.

"I see." The Prime Minister scratched his chin. "Who should I write the Transfer Orders for?" he asked.

"You know of 119th's and 52nd's Division, right? The 333rd. I need the Armored, the Artillery, the Rockets, the Infantry, my Headquarters, and the Reserves too!" Holyfield made his request. "I also need an additional Carrier with more Marines and a Wing attached, maybe throw in a Spec Op team too while you're at it. Perhaps the Aurora's sister, the Tenacity." He added.

"That is a tall one Major, even by your own standards." the Prime Minister said. "Some of the Watchdogs on my back might get suspicious of such a large number of troops, especially as famous as the 333rd just… leave from Fort Sparta. Some are going to start asking questions you know? What are you planning Major?" the Prime Minister aired suspicion down his Phone's mike.

"I am planning something big. I have reasons to believe that the Empire might not be so… friendly to us as you and Governor White had thought." Holyfield said, in a vain attempt to dodge the question.

"And your saying?" Bousqet pressed, not buying the Major's ambiguity.

"I…the Empire, I have reasons to believe that they are planning to put the boot on both Prince Clovich and the Colony, mister Prime Minister." Holyfield confessed. "I have in the works a plan, a Master Offensive that will decisively

"Your planning to roll in the Tanks on these Primitives?" Bousqet asked, alarmed by the Major's idea. "How sure are you of this?" Bousqet asked.

"It's not a War I am doing Mister Prime Minister, it is a 'Pacification Campaign'." Holyfield explained. "Based on my experience and a recent…'Incident' in a region called Souviel sir. Details should be in your private E-mail sir. Plus, now its high time for you Wigs back at Earth to push those pencils of yours and make a move. Already Aparo Corporation just initiated and I don't want to be caught when more of them Corpos show up. Get your Industry friends over here and stat." The Major reminded.

"Actually, you haven't heard? But I have a man already there sent ahead sometime after Clovich left. He goes by Thomas Sight. He's going to help, 'ease' relations and 'push' for development with our own people already. But even then, you need to help him know what kind of anything can be feasible down there." The Prime Minister informed. "Still even if you go through with this plan of yours, then all of this fanfare I am doing with the Prince will be all for nothing! He is a Vassal after all and the Empire is his Master." Bousqet politicked with a reprimanding voice.

"Well his 'Master' has been doing everything he could to impede our progress." Holyfield exaggerated.

"Look here Major, without a Casus Belli, the best that we can do in our own interests is a Defensive Build up or at the very least, we station the troops above orbit quietly and just roll in when the shit kicks the fan." Bousqet said.

"I understand. Prince Clovich won't react well to a whole lot of troops in his Principality as it would violate the Treaty. But… the Colony and the Principality, the Sleagian and their allies could kill them if we don't make a move and I am having almost zero confidence that Clovich's Master would listen to what we going to say judging from what happened to our little… Elven Princess Asset." Holyfield said.

He didn't want to see the peaceful coexistence between the New Albany colony and Tyr Rian be seen as a creeping take over. He wanted the natives to accept the UFE and embrace them and such a scenario requires not soldiers, but builders of all shapes and specialties.

"I get your point Major. But remember, Casus Belli or no Offensive… ehem…'Pacification Campaign'." Bousqet accentuated. "Or its our heads." He forewarned.

"So, my 333rd Division?" Holyfield asked.

Thinking deeply, the Prime Minister weighed out his options in that short moment. He reasoned based on his previous encounters with the hard-lining Major that it was better to be like Noah, building a boat in the desert than to be the rest of the damned of Humanity doomed to drown in a deluge. Once he has finished dealing with Clovich's little furlough on Earth, he will start making the power moves that he and the rest of the Common State Party has planned for their interests in Gliesia to be seen through.

"Permission granted." Bousqet cautiously initiated.