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Half an hour later, after a ten-minute walk and talking with growing echelons of bureaucrats, they arrived at the mayor's office. The official was an old man with an astute gaze hidden by thick, white brows. "Please, take a seat. Do you want something to drink or eat?"

"Let's do business," the Necromancer proposed, leaning back on a chair and crossing his arms.

"It's a defensive posture," Irene said in Vincent's ear, speaking through Lukas's headset, now connected to Vincent's phone. "Try to appear relaxed; it will counter him."

"Can I have a coffee, please?" Vincent raised his hand. The Necromancer frowned with evident displeasure, which showed Irene was right.

"Sure, sure," the mayor said, ringing a bell.

The drink took only a few minutes to arrive, and it was Balkanic-style coffee with the ground beans boiled in the water. Vincent inhaled the aroma of the hot liquid and took a tentative sip. "It's very good," he said, his eyes reflecting his smile.

"Thank you, thank you," the old mayor said. "Sorry I didn't come to meet you yesterday, but my rheumatism is having a tantrum."

"No pro—"

"I have nine thousand warriors outside," the Necromancer said abruptly. "Do you want to talk, or should I ask the Mongols to shoot incendiary arrows?"

"He's in a hurry," Irene said to Vincent. "Start talking, but impose your own pace."

"OK," Vincent shrugged. "Talk."

"It's simple. Give us what we want, and we leave."

"And what do you want?"

"The artifacts hidden in town, and ten of your best people to work for us."

"I won't work for a villain," Barbara proclaimed.

"Let me rephrase. Ten of your Summoned. Preferably engineers with experience in infrastructure. Not slaves, hirelings, under your own Guild's rules."

"That's a pointless offer. He could have hired them anyway, using intermediaries if necessary. The—"

"Your real objective is the artifacts," Vincent said over Irene. "Our people are free to work for anyone as long they respect the Guild's rules. And yet, Ludwing tried to kidnap a promising young man just a few days ago."

"It's His Majesty for you, peasant!" the Necromancer sneered.

A crackling sound made Barbara stretch her hand for the greatsword, but Vincent raised his hand to stop her. "I know that noise… you have a radio?"

Growling, the Necromancer reached into his pocket and extracted a talkie-walkie, putting it on the middle of the desk. At the same time, he took off a wired headset he had in his ear. Of skin color and minuscule, it had escaped Vincent's attention.

"Hello to all, this is Ludwing Corvinus," a voice said between bursts of white noise that bad radios have. "It's better to cut to the chase. I apologize for the kidnapping attempt. It was my retarded inbred cousin's plan."

The voice had become a weird hiss… a cawing on the last words. The Necromancer shifted his position on the chair, and Vincent could swear he was afraid.

"Karma punished me, though… The gold I brought home from Pragwyn turned to nails… And comes the funny part. In a fit of rage, I threw the barrels into the garbage pit… As they broke, one still contained gold… Hilarious, isn't it? I dug every coin out of dung and mud with my own hands… I told myself: Ludwing, this is your lesson for listening to fools and being mean to the Summoned ones…"

"That guy is truly unhinged," Irene said. "Either we make a deal, or he'll be our enemy for life."

Vincent remained silent, drumming his fingers on the table. Having such an enemy was not an idea to trifle with. Yet… every fiber in his mind and body warned him against dealing with crazies.

"But then, fate smiled again at me this morning," Ludwing continued. "A Mongol army approaches Plzeň, unaware a military exercise was on the way there. Celts, Nords, and Hungarians border troops drilled to fight against the Mongols. Those pesky raids are getting on everyone's nerves.

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"And since they had no heavy infantry with them or a Shaman to predict the attack… they are history. The Khan… what a hero! He fought alone against hundreds but met his end, too. And could you believe that the gold previously stolen from me was recovered? That made me think: Ludwing, you must be nice from now on. Good Karma is a thing. Why fight? Let's be friends… caw caw caw…" The laughter definitely was a bird's.

"He knows about the heist," Irene said.

Vincent nodded. He had been naïve. It was not hard to put two and two together. The horde had passed near Krivoburg, left behind the Amazons, and changed their route. He felt a sliver of regret, realizing all that happened because of him. Then, he shook it off. If the Mongols didn’t have scouts good enough to detect an army, they had it coming. His army unit would never have made such a mistake.

"What are the artifacts?" Vincent asked bluntly, acting on an impulse.

"Three mythical dungeon core seeds," Ludwing answered. "The last ones on the Realm. The Bogomils have no idea they're there."

"He can't be allowed to have them," the Shaman blurted, shivering. She kept her composure, but Vincent had seen her cower when she heard firsthand about her friend's death.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Tell them," Ludwing said.

"The Byzantines intercepted and destroyed the reinforcements you expected," the Necromancer said. "There will be no relief."

"Drone," Vincent blurted, hiding the word with a cough.

"We heard you, I'm on it," Jorge said in the earpiece.

"And I have tens of my minions in town, ready to poison your water and food." The Necromancer searched his other pocket and produced a severed hand. Once on the table, it came alive, crawling on the wood.

"Hi, thing," Vincent said despite his best common sense yelling at him to keep quiet. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

Enild's face had lost all its blood, staring at the animated body part. In one swift motion, she stabbed the crawler into the table with her dagger prosthetic. "That's mine," she hissed. The undead hand jerked, becoming inert after trashing its fingers a few times like a crushed spider, and the woman pulled off a ring from the index.

"Please accept my apologies, I had no idea," the Necromancer said with a fake smile.

"Not. It was a tactic to unsettle your group," Irene said.

"I could also hunt the one who fled the town if I want," the Necromancer said. "I changed into a raven and took a flight over the mountains. There are four camps with thousands of people, not even ten miles away. Give us what we want."

"Hi, Boss. The Byzantines had routed, but not destroyed, two small armies. They're regrouping to the south of the town. Getting to the refugees would mean fighting them, and you could attack from the back."

"Thank you, Jorge," Vincent said.

"Huh?" the Necromancer exclaimed.

"Nothing," Vincent said, rising and looking out the window. "I was just thinking how beautiful the sky is. I read in the clouds you are hiding things from me… like the reinforcements still being in shape to fight. Ludwing, you have thirty seconds to tell me why you want the dungeon cores."

The answer came immediately. "They can be modified to become country cores instead of dungeon cores. I want to enhance and expand my country. Build roads, railways, irrigation. Hungary will become a great power, like the Gaels or the Vikings… Why do you think there are only a few empires on Stellarterra for thousands of small countries? They all have a core to help them."

Vincent looked at the Shaman, but she shrugged. "Your choice," she whispered.

"Let's split," Ludwing said. "I'll tell you how to activate the cores. I take the bigger one, and you take the two smaller ones. Take Beauhemia for yourself, or go into Mongol lands. I don't care. No one would dare to oppose a Summoned one with a Country core in his power."

"If you ever become an Evil Warlord, don't forget I'm your bestie. You won't behead me or stuff, right, Boss?" Jorge said, half-joking, half-serious.

"Beauhemia yearns for independence. If we play our cards right, we can turn it into a democratic constitutional monarchy, leaving the current king in place," Irene said simultaneously.

"We have to split into three," Vincent said, noticing the frown on the mayor's face. "It's only fair the locals get their share. I'll have the first pick, you the second, and the last is theirs."

"Agreed," Ludwig blurted.

"Ask him where he wants to expand," Irene asked.

"Where do you want to expand?" Vincent repeated.

"Krui Ova Banate, Vlachia, Dubruja, Moldovia."

"He'll reach the sea and own the Danube's mouths… Good trading location… not far from the Dnieper either," Irene said.

"You want a trade route," Vincent said.

"You read me right…" Ludwing acknowledged. "My offer is sincere, let's be friends…"

"I want Slovakia and Krakow. I need strategic depth."

"Your names are a bit off… but I know what you mean… If I take Liov…"

"And the Mongols? How will they react?"

"Depends who gets the throne. But with a Country core, we can counter them."

"Will you take a System-enforced oath not to take revenge on us?"

"About what?" Ludwing asked, a bit of surprise in his voice. "Oh, you mean the rest of the items you have stolen? Yes, you can keep the silverware and whatever… Honestly, I was relieved you didn't paint mustaches on my ancestor's photo or pee on my bed… Some people are so petty…"

"It's a deal, then. Tell me where to find the cores."

"My cousin knows the location. My orders to him are to assist you without fault or hesitation. He will be your subordinate to command as you fit until our deal is done. Ludwing out."

The Quest A Chance at Peace had concluded its first stage. You have leveled x1.+2 in Mind.

New Quest issued to the Guild of Illuminated Prodigies (represented by Vincent Valaška), the Kingdom of Hungary (represented by Ludwing Corvinus), and the Bogomil Free Tribes (represented by the Mayor of Sofia).

On condition the Dungeon Cores are retrieved, sign a System-reinforced written oath regarding what has been verbally agreed. Additional conditions can be added as long they don't contradict the promises you made. The Archetypes Kiara, Hubris, the Raven, and Brindabella will be witnesses to the signing ceremony.