I agree, Your Majesty," Rhones Lord addressed the Queen. "Archmage Hamilton speaks wisely. Once we harvest the grain and torch the fields, the Godma forces lose their local food source. Sustaining an army of a hundred thousand is no simple feat—they'd have to haul supplies all the way from Crivi. Not only is the road from Crivi to Cynthia treacherous, but it's also damnably long. Moreover, our soldiers returning from Crivi report that most of their farmland lies in ruins, destroyed by Godma forces. We can bleed them dry in a war of attrition. At best, we might win without drawing a single sword—"

"Bold words from a mere Royal Knight," cut in a rail-thin man whose entire frame might not equal a tenth of Little Pip's bulk. His voice, though soft as his physique, commanded attention. "Sir Knight, you propose concentrating all forces in the capital? I'll overlook the Hilltop Fort troops, but to suggest withdrawing from Halfhill Fort? That I cannot abide." His mocking tone grated like rusty steel, causing the Queen's brow to furrow. "As any fool knows, Halfhill Fort stands watch on East Kulun Mountain, overlooking Throat Road. It guards our most direct route north. Leave it unmanned, and we might as well roll out a red carpet for the enemy's northern advance."

The insult stung, but Rhones Lord schooled his features. Patience.He reminded himself. Snit had made his point: a Royal Knight's place was to protect the Queen, not offer unsolicited advice. He would hold his tongue. Rhones Lord glanced at the Queen beside him, then to Garrilard and Pawasid at her right. Seeing no reaction from any of them, he caught Archmage Hamilton's eye, passing him the burden of explanation.

"Well, actually, this would be our most favorable scenario, Duke Snit," the Archmage said, fingers combing through his beard. "Should the enemy bypass Cynthia and march north via Throat Road, we'd reap nothing but benefits. First, we preserve the kingdom without sacrificing a single soldier. Second, should they attempt to cross the Kulun Mountains, the Kingdom of Duviliel would surely intervene—they'd deploy troops to block the passage. Third, we needn't strip Halfhill Fort entirely—a thousand men would suffice. While Duviliel engages the Godma forces head-on, we could strike from behind, catching them unawares."

The nobles murmured approvingly, seemingly impressed by the Archmage's strategy. Yet Duke Snit continued in his silken voice, "Archmage Hamilton, I acknowledge your plan reveals some clear thinking at court. However, it hinges on one crucial assumption—an existing alliance with Duviliel. Tell me, do we currently enjoy such an alliance?"

The murmurs died down, and the Queen herself answered. "Duke Snit, surely you know Cynthia and Duviliel share common blood. In this crisis, Duviliel won't stand idle. Archmage Hamilton, any word from King Richard?"

Hamilton shook his head gently. "Regrettably not, Your Majesty. Our messenger pigeons remain silent."

"Perhaps the little birds lost their way? Or ended up as someone's supper?" Little Pip chuckled. "That cursed Kulun Mountain harbors all manner of beasts."

"Ha! True enough," Lord Loyes laughed. "Last time I visited Halfhill Fort, I witnessed Grand Pip fleeing from a pack of child ghouls." Little Pip nodded, joining the laughter. "Your Majesty," Lord Loyes continued, "shall I dispatch someone to hand-deliver your message to King Richard?" Though goblin messengers excelled at delivering secret correspondence, given the urgency and need for direct royal response, a human courier on horseback would prove more suitable.

"Make it so, Lord Loyes," the Queen agreed. "Choose someone clever—we'll need quick thinking if things go awry. I'm weary. Court is dismissed." With a wave of her hand, the ministers bowed and withdrew.

Afterward, she retched for what seemed like hours.

She'd been trembling on the throne.)Rhones Lord watched a group of dwarves playing with a human girl in the street. How could he blame her? She'd been a carefree queen consort, not a ruler facing war. The moonlight offered a moment's peace. If she'd accepted the Godma envoy's terms... what then? Exile? Or perhaps we'd have kept our lands and titles. No, not her. Stubborn since childhood, she never yielded, even in sword practice. How could she surrender the kingdom? Still, refusing to hear their terms... unwise. But she's young...

Hurried footsteps broke his reverie. Rhones Lord turned to see a young boy in white robes racing up the stairs. The lengthy garment proved his undoing as he stumbled on the steps. "No one's racing you, Vito. No need to move like death itself nips at your heels," Rhones Lord remarked with amusement. Barely fifteen, yet already a scholar. Sharp mind, that one, even if his limbs haven't caught up.

"M-my lord," the boy gasped, doubled over, face flushed scarlet. "I..."

"Fuck you."

Both Rhones Lord and the boy froze, eyes wide.

"Oh... no! My lord, I..."

"Fuck, fuck you."

A massive raven struggled in the boy's grip, its crimson eyes rolling as it spewed its crude vocabulary. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck you!"

"Gods above," Rhones Lord sighed wearily. "Have you brought me a pet?"

"Pet? Fuck, pet!"

"Oh... no, my lord..." The boy's face now matched a ripe tomato. "Archmage Hamilton received a letter by raven... he sent me to deliver it to you..."

"Letter? Fuck, letter!"

Was bringing the bird really necessary?"Very well, Vito. Release it before it makes good on its threats." The boy instantly complied, terrified. "No way – she's a girl!"