As they approached the transformed palace, it became evident that forces from all corners of the world had gathered here. Many unfamiliar banners flew high, and heraldries unknown to Sophia adorned the armor of warriors. These were the heraldries of lands she hadn't recognized, a testament to the diverse alliance that had been forged in the face of an impending threat of the church. People from various cultures, brought together by the call of the Alliance, stood shoulder to shoulder.

The transformed palace, once a symbol of opulence, now stood fortified into a magical fortress—the epicenter of the Alliance's strength. This majestic structure had become the focal point, drawing in forces from every corner of the world. The stone walls glowed with intricate runic power, imbuing the fortress with otherworldly protection, making it the most secure building on the islands—a sanctuary for the leadership of the Alliance.

They landed at the beginning of a long line of nobles and wizards awaiting entrance to the keep. Mike, ever impatient, could not tolerate the idea of waiting in line. He skipped ahead with swift and forceful shoves, causing an immediate uproar. The nobles and wizards, already on edge due to the impending conflict, were taken aback by the bold move.

Sophia, aware of the delicate diplomatic situation, attempted to maintain discretion. She cautioned, "Wait, Mike, this is drawing way too much attention."

"You said the wards won't let us through unless we cut through them, which is a bad idea, but obviously, I'm not waiting in line like a pleb," Mike replied, unapologetically bulldozing through the crowd with Valicar's small frame. The last man in line, a tall warrior mage, defiant and refusing to move aside, found a swift and painful end with a foot between his knees before collapsing out of Valicar's path.

"Hold there! You dare to harm members of the Alliance at our very headquarters," the guard challenged as Mike confidently reached the front. Grinning, he removed their hood with flair, announcing, "I am the Scarlet Scourge!" Fearful whispers rang out as the crowd recoiled, catching a glimpse of the horns and wings.

However, the guard remained skeptical. "You're not Valicar! You're just another scaly with a polymorph spell. Do you know how many impersonators we deal with a day? It's just pathetic now. Surrender, you're under arrest!"

Mike, undeterred, responded with a darkly humorous retort, "Arrest us? Who are you, some lackey doorman now fuck off and go get Zorven!"

Momentarily taken aback, the guard retorted, "You think you're tough? I fought in the battle for the west! Where were you, oh legendary Scarlet Scourge?" he said mockingly.

Mike leaned in a wicked grin on his face. "Oh, I don't doubt it. I'm sure you single-handedly turned the tide of battle. That's why you're out here guarding the door now, while I was off retrieving treasures like this." Mike drew Blue Dawn from their pouch, its blue flames turning black as onlookers' fear swelled at the sight of the blade. As he waved it toward the guard's face, he declared with a smirk, "Consider this our invitation. It comes with the subtle suggestion that things might get a bit heated if you decline." The flames shifted to a fiery red, intensifying the sense of impending danger among the crowd.

The guard, realizing he might be dealing with more than he bargained for, hesitantly agreed to deliver the message to Zorven. The twins, satisfied with their exchange, continued toward their meeting with the Alliance leaders. "How long have you been saving that line?" Sophia teased Mike.

"Eh, I get more power from crowds when I give them a show," Mike shrugged with a mischievous grin.

As Valicar confidently strode into the grand hall, now repurposed into a bustling planning room, the opulence that once adorned the space had transformed into a fortified magical fortress. Strategists huddled over maps and charts in what used to be ballrooms, turning the elegant surroundings into a war room. The air crackled with anticipation, and the twins soon found themselves face-to-face with Altheack.

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Her eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief as she spotted them. Without hesitation, Altheack rushed forward and embraced them in a warm, tight hug. "Mike, Sophia, I'm so glad to see you both," she whispered into their ears, her voice filled with genuine happiness. Playfully, she poked Valicar's horns, a newfound addition that seemed to have emerged since their last meeting.

"These are new," she remarked, her touch gentle and inquisitive.

"It has to do with Soph's soul slowly turning us into a dragon, but we will fill you in later," Mike whispered back, earning a worried but understanding look from Altheack. "It's good to see you too, Alth," Sophia continued, bringing Altheack back to a cheerful mood.

"I've been anxious about the outcome of your mission. The Alliance needs your strength now more than ever." Altheack smiled as she led them to the planning table.

Zorven, the guard commander, observed the dangerous girl with a subtle annoyance at her unorthodox entrance. His narrowed eyes couldn't help but comment, "Skipping lines and causing a commotion? Seriously, Valicar?"

Altheack chuckled, "You know Valicar, always one for making an entrance. It's part of what makes them... well, her." Deliberately using the feminine pronoun, she skillfully navigated around the delicate secret that Mike and Sophia shared—their oneness hidden behind the illusion of duality. To the uninitiated, the girl might simply appear eccentric, perhaps even a touch insane, given the extraordinary feats and chaotic escapades that had become synonymous with the twins. From battling the mightiest adversaries to laying waste to entire cities in the throes of conflict, the line between reality and madness blurred, creating a narrative that outsiders could only imagine as the wild exploits of an unpredictable soul.

Gorlion, the Indomitable Hero of the East, was more indifferent to the theatrics but acknowledged their presence with a nod. He recognized the value of their combat prowess in the upcoming fight.

In the corner of the royal hall, Arch Mage Alaric Spellweaver, a towering figure with flowing fur as a wolfkin, awaited their arrival. However, his demeanor was far from welcoming. A magical image projected from his hands showcased the very necromancy book that Valicar had "borrowed" from him during their previous encounter.

"You two have a peculiar way of making entrances and an even more peculiar taste in 'borrowed' literature," Spellweaver chided, his tone laced with disapproval. "I do not allow students of HelmHold to learn such magic, and I certainly do not condone it. Return the book immediately." The archmage said with checked fury, aware of the power the twins possessed, but unwilling to turn a blind eye to their transgressions.

Maintaining their mischievous grin, Mike handed the book back to Spellweaver. "Relax, old man. Just needed some light reading. Besides, I don't see why you're so concerned. Necromancy is hardly the worst thing we've encountered on our journey."

The Arch Mage let out a weary sigh, frustration etched across his features. "You may find amusement in your jests, but whispers of your dalliance with forbidden magic, particularly necromancy, have reached even my ears. There's an unsettling aura about your souls, an anomaly that cannot be dismissed. Your appearance and the rumors surrounding the enslavement of souls, be it through demonic or draconic means, indicate a descent into the darker realms of the divine."

Sophia, exchanging a meaningful glance with Altheack, sensed the danger as Spellweaver's suspicions lingered perilously close to the truth. In contrast, Valicar maintained her nonchalant demeanor. "Well, it’s not exactly slavery if they’re already dead, is it?" Mike joked, earning an annoyed look from the Arch Mage. Sophia quickly interjected diplomatically.

"But, if the rumors trouble you so, perhaps we should redirect the chatter. Let's give the people something more uplifting to discuss, like our impending triumph over the Pillars." Sophia continued, "I hear you sought retribution for HelmHold in the west."

"Only after you led them straight to my doorstep," the Archmage replied bitterly, lamenting the loss of Helm town and the deaths of thousands in his charge.

Altheack, sensing the tension, intervened with a diplomatic tone. "Let's focus on the task at hand. We have to unite our forces and strategize for the impending conflict. The Empire won't wait for us to be ready."

Spellweaver, though clearly still hesitant, gave a curt nod. "Agreed. The Pillars are formidable, and we can't afford to underestimate them. We'll need every edge we can get," he said, his tone carrying a weight that made Sophia stop in her tracks. There was something in his voice—something unsettlingly familiar, like the echo of someone they once knew.

With the hall echoing with discussions of strategy, Valicar, Altheack, Zorven, Gorlion, Spellweaver, and many new allies gathered around a massive table, their diverse skills and experiences converging for the greater good despite their differences. The fate of the Alliance hung in the balance, and their unity would be paramount in the face of the looming conflict with the Empire and the enigmatic Pillars.