We were busy during the day, so for the bath, we invite Lolo to have some fun with us.

I proudly carry the abused elven queen in my arms as she hides her seed-stained face against my chest, making me feel mild disgust, but that's just fuel for her degradation fetish.

The signs of the abuse are pretty clear on her body, so Lolo tries very hard to hide her concern, but her demeanor becomes quite tense.

"She likes to be degraded, so we did some roleplay to fulfill her fantasies," Ciel kindly explains, still wearing her dancer outfit.

But Lolo is bewildered. "'Roleplay'? Like, pretending you're in a play and using [Acting] while having sex?" She questions while eyeing Yunia repeatedly.

Roxanne swings an arm around Lolo's shoulder and suggestively depicts, "Yes. It's like playing out an erotic novel in real life, where the heroine is dominated, abused, raped, and forced to orgasm repeatedly until her will breaks and she submits to the male's virility, accepting him as her owner and surrendering her heart to him, then worshiping his superior meat club of love for the rest of her life."

Lolo slowly turns her head to me while anxiously patting her floppy ears, completely ignoring how Roxanne's hand runs over her back with suggestive motions.

"A perfect fit, isn't it? A domineering dragon and a submissive elf," Klein wryly remarks.

"Don't forget your place, slut," I growl threateningly.

She rolls her eyes and smiles, then begrudgingly shows her obedience, "Yes, Master."

Lolo's eyes open wide as she stares at Klein, her fear now visibly rising to eleven, then she begins to slow down as she mumbles, "Uh… I, uh…"

I stop and give her a gentle, comforting look. "I don't do this kind of thing without being explicitly asked," I reassure her.

Everyone drops the act and gives her cheeky grins.

"Oh…" She mumbles in realization, then blushes and starts pouting, but she also fails to hide her smile.

Hana smirks and teases, "And you certainly don't seem to be the kind that would eagerly submit, right?" Then she slaps Lolo's ass.

The bunny girl grits her teeth annoyedly and actually shows some defiance. "I'm not-… I'm not like that…" She hesitantly states, not completely sure of it herself.

"Uh huh…" Hana hums, totally believing her.

"Your loss. It's quite fun," Alissa casually adds, and flashes her a sweet, innocent smile.

Lolo looks like she needs a drink as she realizes that she might've gotten herself involved with a bunch of crazy people.

After our bath, we finally have our share of monster meat, and we invite the High Officers, Nikolas, and a few knights.

The maids work together to carry into the room a huge log of Behemoth rib that has been roasted all day long inside an effigy. It's heavily marbled, so after taking off the charred layer, it drips with fat that had been soaking the meat while it roasted, softening it so much that we can easily pull away the individual fibers with our fingers. It has a strong taste due to its age, but it goes perfectly with imperial breads or just plain rice, and the girls also recommend butterbeer to accompany it.

Aoi is the one who eats the most by far, demonstrating how her stomach might actually be a black hole just like Gify's, though with a noticeably larger capacity.

"You should eat well, High Officer Vagante. Get some meat on your bones," Palo teases the spindly elf.

Silvano gives the massively swole knight a suspicious side-eye. "I'm fine, thank you. Too much mass will make me slow, and that would be the death of me," he politely replies and gracefully eats his little bite.

Palo's dazzlingly bright smile subtly widens. "And what happens when you can't poke the enemy?"

Silvano pompously adjusts his fabulous, straight, silver hair behind his ear as he calmly explains, "I retreat. I use swords, not a hammer. You don't just swing them around like a club and expect them to be effective, so what would you need 'Strength' for?"

Palo pompously runs his hand over his fabulous, short, sweptback, golden hair as he continues the assault, "Does that happen often? I heard you were quite the duelist, but how does that translate to fighting against real enemies?"

Then the effeminate elf makes such a haughty expression that it almost gives me a boner. "Everything living has eyes that can be poked and give me access to the brains, so I've never retreated even once yet, except when fighting against His Highness Wolf and Her Highness Hana, but surely they don't count?"

And Palo makes such a stereotypical elven smug expression that I feel like punching him. "What about that undead in the Misty Forest?"

But Silvano is unfazed, "Not even our Lords fought them head-on."

The muscular elf nods. "Hm… that's fair."

But the beautiful elf's eye twitches in annoyance. "Fair? You unload questions upon my face and then walk away without even throwing me a coin. Now you'll sit there and enjoy the schooling I'm going to drive into you about what it means to really go past your limits."

The two are making me uncomfortable, so I just tune out their conversation.

"Is there a part that's still bleeding?" Azador excitedly asks the Chef.

And the mature silver woman shifts uncomfortably on her feet as she explains, "It's not blood, Sir, but yes, at the center, you'll find some of the meat still dripping with red water."

"Can you get me a slice, then?" He hums as he leans forward, almost drooling with hunger.

She eyes Azador's blood-red flowers growing on his white beard and softly nods.

Aoi stares at him with her innocent draconic curiosity as she asks, "You like to eat raw meat?"

He smirks as he glances at her, then stares intensely at the log of meat as it's easily opened up. "Not actually raw, but bloody. I like the bitter and metallic taste."

Okay~… I also tune out that one.

Alcander is yapping to Nikolas and Anton about his time in the capital, and the pompous way the imperial noble reminisces doesn't seem to be going well with his two talking partners.

Ciel's casual chat with one of the knights seems a lot more pleasant to listen to, but then things become a bit serious as he mentions the growing number of people praying in the Prasa de Ananci, which is right before our huge portrait on the Shell.

"The reason why they might be praying is what concerns me," the austere golden elf affirms soberly.

Ciel kindly hums, "What do you mean?"

He turns his sharp gaze away and scans over the merriment at the table as he ponders, "We pray to the Gods to ask for help, but what help can you offer to someone you can't hear? The Lords are to be respected and obeyed, but only within the context of their duties, no more, no less."

Ciel emphatically agrees, "Yes, indeed. Their behavior borders on what the God-Rulers' subjects were like."

"I'm not familiar with the term 'God-Ruler.'"

She smiles warmly at him, and he reflexively looks away, overwhelmed by her charm. "It's old history, from before the empire. Rulers were treated like Gods before Change allowed actual Gods to rise and watch over us."

He nods in understanding and wonders, "Perhaps they're just wishing for Your Highnesses to become Gods?"

Ciel frowns and rejects that idea, "That's not a good thing, and I also agree that the commoners might develop wrong expectations of us if we let them continue praying."

"What do we do, then?"

Ciel swirls her cup of beer as she deliberates, "I believe we'll need to involve the priests, but having an accurate idea of the commoners' opinion of us is essential."

And he happily states, "That'd be Sir Azador's specialty, but I believe Dame Enomosa is experienced enough to carry out this task."

"You think highly of both of them," I interject and glance at the elf in question, but he's still embroiled in a bloody discussion with Aoi.

He nods soberly and affirms, "Of course. They're respected in Escanso for good reason, and the whole city owes them a lot."

Then the conversation shifts towards stories about the crises that Escanso went through.

Bandits depriving it of necessary resources, plagues affecting the Eia farms, gangs trying to establish themselves, the Wicked hiding among the populace, greedy merchants causing revolts among the workers, and many more.

It all sounds amazing, really, but I know that the truth isn't that pretty.

"Uugh~… I'm so fu~ll!" Aoi moans childishly and proudly pats her distended belly.

"Gii~h…!" Gify agrees and lays beside her, then Aoi shifts her size to match Gify's.

Alissa sits before them and starts patting their heads while Lolo watches enviously.

"You can pet Aoi, she won't mind," our kind little fox affirms.

Gify doesn't let anyone that's not part of our [Bind] touch her because it causes a "connection" between them, and that's simply too intimate for a stranger, though it's not like she'd never allow it. It's similar to how touching spirits is a show of love for dryads, but Cereleia wasn't offended when I did that with her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lina grabs the large Civil War board, which is a bit too wide for her small arms to properly carry, then she waddles towards my seat and places it before me with a thump.

I turn my eyes to her and raise an eyebrow as I stare at her innocent expression, but under her gloomy eyes, I see an impish glint, and my thick tail lazily sways from side to side as I consider the challenge.

Board games are like a cheap, off-brand candy corn while video games are the refined hazelnut milk chocolate bonbon with a creamy interior. Sex gives me the intense emotions that I crave for from the lack of games, so I've become addicted to it, but it might do me some good to try out something new.

I pull out the Eia bottle, then I help her set up the table while the golems serve everyone a finger of the liquid brain-gasm.

The dwarven army hides inside their mountain as the sounds of [Meteor]s exploding upon its surface keep them awake day and night. Meanwhile, the imperials slowly climb onto the mountainside, preparing for their invasion of Mountainhome.

But at the snowy peaks, the dwarven trump card tries their best to survive until the perfect opportunity comes.

"DRINK!" The Liner shouts, and the dwarves take another sip of their Liquid Fire alcohol to warm them up again.

"LOW!" The Liner gives another order, and the dwarves huddle up, trying to make themselves as small as possible so that no mage can see where they are, exactly.

A [Meteor] lands right next to them, and their eardrums bleed, but nobody moves an inch. The Sleigher unit is composed of old veterans who are ready to give their lives, but nobody wants to die before their time.

Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking resounds throughout the whole battlefield, and that's the signal for the Sleighers to act.

They jump onto their heavy, armored carriages, then push them down the slick and snowy mountainside.

With the way now open, the imperial army swarms into Mountainhome's tunnels and meets the men-of-the-line. The dwarves aren't as dishonorable as to collapse the tunnels on the imperials, and they're confident that their impenetrable wall of shields will be enough to hold the filthy humans back, so the two sides meet head-on like a sledgehammer against a solid metal wall.

The Sleighers continuously gain speed, and once the snowy patch ends, they activate the ice enchantments on the runners of their sleighs so that they can continue to slide down the rocky and barren earth.

The dwarves grin victoriously as the imperials don't seem to notice their approach until it's too late, but by then, the heavy metal sleighs are too close and too fast to be stopped.

The dwarven daredevils crash into the thick imperial line as the humans invade Mountainhome, but there's no impact, no lines of men are turned into paste, and no screams come from the frightened and dying. The dwarves simply pass through the humans as if they were ghosts… because they're illusions.

The dwarves were tricked.

Suddenly, they notice deep trenches in their path, but Sleighers aren't known for their turning capabilities, so all of the dwarves crash into them, the hulking beasts of metal defeated by a simple trick.

Now the dwarves have no more units on the outside, no way to reach the imperial mages as they use siege magic to break apart the mountainside, no counter but to wait and hope that the humans are dumb enough to smash their heads against the men-of-the-line.

But history tells us that this never happened, and so, the dwarves surrendered.

"Hey, complaint. Imperials are OP!" I exclaim frustratedly.

But Lina just grins impishly, "No, it's just a bad match-up. You never choose Mountainhome and men-of-the-line against imperials with [Ritualism]." -Then she pouts, falsely wounded- "I told you months ago about how the dwarves lost to the empire, and it was exactly like this, so it's your fault for not paying attention to me!"

Shit, I really forgot.

I saltily grumble, "I fucking thought you'd be more respectful to your fellow dwarves."

"Hey, they lost honorably!" She hisses, and we pout at each other.

She knew my strategy was going to fail from the beginning, but all she wanted was to win.

But I'll forgive her because she's cute.

And she turns her head away so that I can't see her smile.

Today is the 6th, Ekt, day of Electricity.

Alissa increased her [Illusion Magic] by 1 (now 18); Roxanne's [Space Magic] increased by 1 (now 13); Hana learned [Godly Language] with 1 point; Ciel increased her [Wind Magic] by 1 (now 13+27); and Yunia learned [Water Magic] and [Electric Magic] with 1 point each.

My [Mana Body] didn't increase this time, but our training was interrupted too often for me to properly focus on it.

But the most important growth is the confirmation that our MP and MPower increased at double the usual rate. Now, we must ask two questions: can we refine this phenomenon even further? And will this make mana circulation training obsolete?

I believe we'll be forced to make this knowledge public at some point, but it worries me that it'll increase magical inequality since few people will be able to afford to collect and ingest these orbs regularly. If we manage to refine the orb, we must then work on finding cheaper alternatives for the commoners to be able to keep up.

It's a bit wordy, but the concept of "stimulating magical growth through the forceful absorption of mana" is really quite simple, so there's no reason we won't be able to create "magical growth potions."

But that's enough theorizing for now. It's time to eat butter toast!

We have an important meeting with General Reinhold this morning, so we prepare by reviewing our information about him while we eat.

Reinhold Fischer is a thirty-two-year-old man born in a small coastal village of Wideberg, the westernmost nation of our continent and a maritime power. That's where Romy comes from, and the people over there are all Asians with a tanned skin tone, similar to Filipinos.

Once Reinhold became a teen, he realized that he had the power to summon magical swords. He didn't hide it, so he was immediately recruited by the imperial army and blazed his way through the ranks, exterminating armies of monsters almost all by himself, until he received the ceremonial title of Junior General. He doesn't have a Title or any units under his direct control yet, but he's being trained for a leading role that he's likely to be promoted to in a decade.

What's curious is that the Title of just "General" is… generally related to land armies, while they use the "Sea" or the newer "Sky" prefix for the other branches of the army. It's curious how the system doesn't translate "Sky General" as Marshall, or something similar, like how Hihiriwa's Title in Reo was translated as "Marshall of the Skies." I guess the branches of the imperial army aren't as well separated as that ancient Chimera nation in the Broken Skies.

But none of the girls have much interest in my musings on Earthling etymology, so I leave it at that.

After breakfast, we send the knights to level up some more, then we do our mana circulation training while we wait.

At precisely the appointed time, his carriage arrives in front of the embassy. Ornate but not lavish, his ride looks like it's pretty comfortable, but it's far from being ostentatious.

The door opens, and a muscular Filipino man comes out, not huge like Palo or swole like Rande but functionally strong. He's pretty youthful, with his pristine and clean jaw making him look like he's barely twenty, and he has the perfectly assured gait of someone well-trained in martial arts. Curiously, he has no sword at his waist, and he has chosen to wear his rather austere white and red army uniform in velvet, because anything formal has to be in velvet.

His wife, on the other hand, is a gorgeous noblewoman from Wideberg, and she likes to show it. Over her lavish mage robes is a tabard with a complex heraldry that features a trireme. The diplomat guesses that she might be a bit stuck up, but isn't the type to speak out of turn, so she most likely won't be a problem.

I'm feeling alright today, so I'm the one to greet him.

"Royal Crown Lord Wolf Ryder, a pleasure to meet you," he cheerfully greets, his handsome smile driving deep dimples into his blocky face.

"Junior General Reinhold Fischer. I'm elated with your interest in our planes," I reply in kind and offer my shining, clawed hand for a shake.

Soul Info

Name Reinhold Fischer Race Human Level 102 HP 100 MP 2,310 Magic Power 200 Strength 18 Endurance 18

Not much talent for magic, I see.

But then I start to regret being present as he shows his boisterousness by going so hard for my hand that he slaps it, then almost jostles my shoulder out of its socket with his shaking.

My eyes start to gloss over as I tune out the pleasantries, and the girls give me a hand through [Bind].

"Those Chimera of yours are quite the curious bunch, aren't they?" He enthusiastically remarks.

I hide my apathy for small talk and politely reply, "They lived twenty thousand years ago, yet they're actually adapting quite well to living with elves."

He hums, and the reverberating bass of his voice shows a hint of a good amount of "Charisma." "Hard to believe that such wild-looking people were once so powerful."

I don't really like the way he said that, but he's from Wideberg, and people on the west side of the continent tend to be prejudiced against those who look like beastfolk.

Lina bravely joins in, "The Broken Skies is vast. You could say it was the perfect environment for a massive empire to grow."

He turns his youthful gaze towards her and seems mildly impressed at her confidence as he rather wisely points out, "And now they've been reduced to just a few islands. Even their current airships don't compare to the beasts you have. Twenty-thousand-year-old beasts."

"But we aren't researching big airships," I calmly retort.

He smirks. "No, you're researching something better."

We stare at each other for a couple of seconds, then I decide that's enough chatter, "Let's talk business inside."

Once we're all seated and drinking our tea, Alissa and Yunia entertain his wife while he immediately goes for the main topic, "You haven't brought any of your planes here, have you?"

I state, impassively, "No. We only have one prototype, and we came here for other reasons than to showcase the Raki."

He nods and leans back on his leaf sofa as he relaxes. "That's fine, I'll trust the reports."

Then I decide to be a bit bolder and slyly imply, "Well, I can't help but notice that you aren't exactly the first name that comes up when one thinks about airplanes."

He waves his hand dismissively. "That's fine. The Sky Generals don't care about that little one because it doesn't fit into their tactics, and as far as we know, you haven't started producing those big boys… yet." Then he returns my slyness.

I simply flash a smile and move on, "So, what does a land General want to do with the Raki?"

He immediately sobers up and answers, "Scouting. Using an elemental to pilot an experimental flying vehicle that's capable of accidentally destroying itself in normal use is genius, really."

I let my tail sway heavily, showing a hint of disappointment. "Just scouting? That's not very creative."

Then he leans forward and subtly smirks. "If you're saying that, then it means you're developing weapons for it?"

"Of course," I snobbishly affirm with a small nod.

He snorts and leans back in his seat again. "This is why I mentioned 'future demonstrations.'"

Then I go for the main course, "How much is the imperial army willing to invest in this project?"

His posture immediately shifts, and he becomes visibly tense as he subtly knits his eyebrows. "Aren't you a Lord? Go find your own funding yourself!" Then he snorts again, making his wife glare at him due to his undignified noise.

Lina calmly interjects, "We're already investing quite a lot of our own money to start this venture. If you want your weapons, you'll need to give us an incentive to research them. Otherwise, we're just going to focus on giving wings to fat merchants."

He frowns at her then glances at me, but I just remain impassive, showing that I find no problem with her statement.

His mood turns dark for a moment as he enters deep thought, then he sighs and sternly asserts, "Alright, but there are a few conditions first. It has to be made of metal because we won't do maintenance on elven wood when we already have a whole system for maintaining the armor of our airships. Second, we aren't just going to give you free money, we want results-…"

I solemnly interject, "Giving free money is the best way to get results, though. Setting deadlines will just ensure that you get something, but it might not be what you paid for."

He frowns and narrows his eyes at me, and even Lina thinks I'm bullshitting, though she doesn't show it.

I hold back a sigh and continue, "Are you in a hurry to start a war, or do you have the time to wait? Research is like a cake recipe, and pressure is just one ingredient. Too much or too little, and it's ruined, but maybe you'll get something edible if you're lucky."

He subtly narrows his eyes and grimly retorts, the deep bass of his voice drowning out the other conversations, "Are you in a hurry to start a war?" Then everyone goes silent for a moment and turns to us.

Well, he's succeeded in making me smile, which he responds to by smirking.

I give no sign that I'll answer, so he moves on, "Third condition, you have two months to impress me."

"You?" I skeptically respond.

He shrugs, and his demeanor becomes casual again. "Well, I have to impress the seniors and the seniles myself, and I can stall for two months, so get me something by then."

But I caution him, "If we're going to change to metal, we won't be able to use steel, so you'll have to pay extra for the knowledge about the metal we'll be using."

He scoffs. "You're just going to create a new metal, like that?"

I smugly reply, "I'm not here because I lack vision."

He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head in disbelief. "If you can do it, then by all means. We'll pay whatever you want."

Well, this might be an interesting partnership.