“I see you’re surprised,” Count Pilih said. “I was as well when I found out that you two were involved.”

Can anyone give me some hints? Dallion asked, addressing every guardian in the room.

A few whispers emerged—items generations old, not scared of speaking their mind, and grumbling about it. For the most part, they went on about the better days of the past when the Pilih name was something to be reckoned with and even the imperial family treated them as equals. Among the rants and grumbling, Dallion learned that it was common, even expected, for members of certain families to be “offered” to the imperial army where they would be made officers.

“This is your family,” Dallion said, looking at March. “Before—”

“The unfortunate incident,” the count finished the sentence. “The emperor was generous enough not to punish the family for her actions. He even allowed us to know her new… self.”

Clearly, nobility had a few advantages even when it came to banishment.

“Once per year she’d visit, marking the event. Today, though, she made an exception.”

“You sent for me, father.” On the outside, March remained calm. Internally, though, there was enough anger coming from her that Dallion feared she might attack the old man.

It was interesting that Tonia looked nothing like the armor-clad mercenary. Even their magic threads were drastically different.

“Months ago,” the count said calmly. “What’s important is that you’re now here and could indulge our guest with events on the outside.”

The tension in the room grew thick. The only person who was remotely amusing himself was the count, although even he seemed more eager to be left with Dallion’s weapons than anything else. Given the number of void items in the room, Dallion didn’t think it was such a good idea.

“Maybe you should move the conversation to the forge, father,” Tonia suggested. “As a forger, I’m sure you’d like to see him work. Besides, I’m sure there are things you and—” the pause was longer than it needed to be “—March would like to discuss in private.”

“So eager to run off?” The count’s tone suggested that he had already made his decision, just didn’t see the need to voice it. “What do you think?” he turned to Dallion. “Shall we stay a bit more and admire my collection, or should we go to the forge?”

“How can I refuse either?” Dallion let out a polite laugh. “It would be a crime not to admire these beautiful weapons a bit longer.”

The next few hours passed Dallion moving from item to item with the count closely behind, more than eager to provide details. Every weapon had its story, some more truthful than others. It quickly became obvious that all the items had banished races as their guardians. The dryads were eager to have a chat with Dallion, as was their nature. The nymphs were reserved and the sole copyette was remarkably silent, as if deliberately keeping its distance.

Servants came and went, frequently bringing refreshments and making the usual inquiries. When every trophy had been thoroughly examined, the count finally gave the order for the servants to prepare the forge for him. He excused himself and went to get into a more appropriate attire for work. Tonia barely waited a few seconds after he had left the room, before leaving as well.

“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” Dallion whispered to March.

“Different mothers,” the woman explained. “The catastrophe didn’t help, either. Good job on finding Adzorg. If nothing else, Hannah will be pleased he’s still alive.”

“Yeah.” If only he could share how things really went down. Just like few would know about Dallion’s fight against the Star, the battle against the void and Adzorg’s help in that battle would remain unknown. “We were lucky that the device never got completed.”

“Will you hand him over to the Order?”

“Adzorg? Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“You always were sentimental.” March shook her head. “On that note, Vend sends his best.”

“Good to know he’s fine.”

“He’s seen better days, but yes, he’s well enough. Not much else is, though.” March paused for a moment. “You poked a hornet’s nest at the vortex fields. Every mercenary and two-bit merchant has flooded the place, hoping to find something they could sell off.”

“What could they sell?” Dallion snorted. “Glass?”

“Won’t be the first time. The glass mounts were a source of that for decades. The fighting hasn’t stopped. Everyone seems to think that the emperor destroyed the Azures’ greatest weapon, but that’s not true. The really significant forces are still there and…” her words trailed off. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

Dallion offered his hand.

“No.” March shook her head. “Not here, not even like this.”

The door of the trophy room opened.

“Sir, madam, the count is ready and would like you to accompany him to the Pilih forge.”

That quickly put an end to the conversation. The two nobles joined their host, then left the mansion, making their way through the streets of the city. On the way, Dallion saw that the party in his house wasn’t the only one going on. If there was a city that didn’t sleep in this world, the imperial capital was it. That was another thing that Dallion found strange. The city was the only one that he knew of that didn’t have a name. Initially, he expected it to be called Tamin or something similar, but “Imperial Capital” was the actual name.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Is it possible for a city to be banished? He asked in his realm.

No one rushed to answer.

Well, in theory I suppose it would be, Adzorg ventured a guess. Although I’m not sure how you’d banish someone already banished. The owner of the city could be banished and have their name erased from existence. I guess if it ever happened, there’s no way anyone would know.

Think this one was?

You do present an interesting question, dear boy. I suppose if it had been long ago, back before the empire existed, it wouldn’t be out of the question. But it would take the Moons to do such a thing.

The Moons, Dallion mused.

By the way, I would take anything March says with a bucket of salt. The girl still hasn’t forgiven me for my mishap, and while I can understand, even sympathize, it is starting to get a bit old.

I know.

No metalins roamed the streets, even at this time of night. Yet they were always there, present in every part of the city, as long as one knew where to look. Some—the massive ones—acted as majestic city statues, so integrated with the city that people wouldn’t think twice. Dallion could see the magic threads within them shine so brightly that on a few occasions he was forced to wince. To make things even more complicated and annoying, magic didn’t follow the standard laws shining through structures and other solid objects.

“Here we are,” Count Pilih said as they arrived. “After you, Baron.” He invited Dallion to enter first.

“I’m honored,” Dallion smiled and entered the forge.

The building seemed very different from what he had seen only a day ago. The lack of people made it seem asleep, almost dead. All the large doors were closed, boxing out the work area and largely diminishing its grandeur.

“It looks far better during the day,” the count noted. The emanations coming from him made him appear a completely different person. Gone were the traces of pride and snobbishness. Now there was only focus and determination. “I leave you to choose.”

“Of course,” Dallion nodded. Before that, though…

PERSONAL AWAKENING

Reality shifted, bringing Dallion to his realm. There was no sign of the recent invasion attempt that took place during the duel. Not only that, but Gen had removed the changes that Dallion had performed on the sea.

“You’ll have to fix that,” a young voice said.

Dallion turned around to see July—the echo that was most in tune with creature guardians. He had been created the same time that Gleam had joined Dallion’s realm as his guardian, and other than Ruby, the one closest to her.

“Gleam would like that.”

“Gleam doesn’t have to be linked to my realm anymore,” Dallion said.

“I know. She’d still like it if you fixed it.”

There was no point in continuing the conversation. The echo knew exactly what Dallion was thinking; he already knew that he’d need a whip-blade, and having it become Gleam’s home was only natural. The only fear he had was that the item wouldn’t be indestructible. Then again, just because something was supposed to be indestructible didn’t mean it couldn’t be shattered.

“Boss!” Lux popped out of the air nearby. The cyan firebird was as cheerful as ever, this time, also carrying Dallion’s aetherfish familiar along. “What are we doing, boss? Invading someone?”

“Easy there,” Dallion laughed, reaching out to pet the creature. In the past, the action was impossible, but by extending his magic threads throughout his palms, Dallion now had the option. “I’m just here to talk with Onda.”

“What about teaching me new skills?” Lux continued in the same breath. “Do I get to learn new skills?”

“I’ll teach you guys new skills, I promise.” Dallion felt like his father coming home from work. Back when Dallion was still young, he’d constantly pester his parents to spend more time with him, and often grumble when they didn’t. Now he could see that there were a lot of other responsibilities that came along with parenthood.

“When is big sis coming back?”

“Soon,” July said, redirecting the firebird’s attention to himself. “She’ll be back soon. That’s why Dal needs to chat with Onda, to forge her new home.”

“Ah, ok.” Lux chirped. “Can I watch?”

Since no wasn’t an option, Dallion let the flames of the firebird envelop him, then fly him to the nymph’s tower.

To little surprise, the hammer guardian was there. To an even lesser surprise, his entire body was full of blobs of grumpiness.

Of course, Dallion sighed internally. He had finished dealing with the children and now had to have a conversation with the teenager.

“Hey,” he said, moving directly to the point.

“Here for a favor, right?” The nymph glared at him. “That’s so not chill.”

“It’s not like you dared teach me much last time…”

“Time here only lasts a moment outside! You could have visited, old man! You only come here when there’s an invasion or you want to level up, or—”

“I need to learn how to forge the good stuff, and I need to learn it in a single outside moment.” Dallion wasn’t in the mood of getting any lip. He knew for a fact that the nymph meant well, but his indecisiveness before becoming a domain ruler had allowed too many people to take him for granted, even those in his own realm. “It’s for Gleam,” he added with a note of softness.

“For Gleam…” Onda looked away, a few specks of guilt emerging in his head.

“And also to be ready for the dozen of void weapons that I just came across.”

“You crazy?” Onda almost shouted. “There’s no way you can take all those! You couldn’t even kick Vih’s ass! How—”

“That’s why I need you to teach me top tier forging,” Dallion interrupted again. “Normal weapons won’t do. I want to be able to make magic weapons. Blossoming weapons, origami weapons, even world weapons, if you know how to make them.”

If there was a time to ask the impossible, it was now. To Dallion’s surprise, the nymph didn’t talk back. One would have thought that he’d retort that it was impossible to make world weapons, but instead, he just stood there, staring at Dallion, as if to measure his determination.

“You really want to go that far?” the guardian asked. “To reach the top of the top?”

“Yes. And in one real world moment.”

“You can’t. You need to boost your skills to a hundred for world weapons. The rest, though… I can teach you.”

“Okay. Let’s get started.”