“If we can harm Dark Father too, that is good too but not our priority.”

“That’s why we have the mages and the converted objects in place. They’re our failsafe.”

Machiavel added.

Suntuzel frowned, shaking his head.

“Failsafes are only good if they aren’t exposed. If Veronica or Rud learns about it, it won’t matter how well-placed our resources are.”

“Enough. We’ll proceed carefully. Machivel, keep overseeing the operations on the lower levels. Ensure that Warrent, Ares, and Sardias continue their work undisturbed.”

“Suntuzel, focus on preparing defenses. If anyone does decide to attack us, I want them to regret it before they even set foot near our strongholds.”

“And me?” Gran asked, his gaze fixed on Sylas.

“Keep your eyes on Veronica’s people. If they make a move, I want to know about it immediately. I won’t be caught off guard.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Finally, Machivel spoke again, his voice softer.

“This tension won’t last long.When it breaks, it will break hard.”

Sylas stood,

“Let it break. When it does, we’ll be ready. I am itching for a good battle...”

Suntuzel laughed out loud and nodded, as he was too wanting to battle instead of talk all day long.

Sylas remained behind, staring at the map of the ship etched into the table.

-

Two hours later,

The main-room door heard a knock from outside.

Gran and Suntuzel exchanged a glance before Gran opened it, allowing the visitor to step inside. The man who entered was lean.

His sharp, calculating eyes scanned the room and landed on Sylas.

“Lord Sylas, I am greeting you in the name of the Third Circle...” the man said,

Sylas nodded.

“And you are?”

The man straightened,

“Laril Terdan. One of the Third Circle’s undercover operatives aboard Blue Hope.”

Suntuzel scoffed lightly from where he stood by the wall, arms crossed.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Undercover, huh? Not much for subtlety, are you?”

Laril ignored the remark, his eyes fixed on Sylas.

Gran took a step forward.

“So, you’re one of the spies Veronica has placed.”

Laril’s jaw tightened slightly.

“You can call me what you like. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m here on behalf of the Third Circle, and I have something important to discuss.”

Sylas leaned back in his chair,

“Important enough for you to reveal yourself so openly? Interesting. Go on, then.”

Lara took a moment,

“The battle in the practice room between the Third Circle and the Frost Elves was just the beginning. Tensions are escalating, and it’s clear that a larger conflict is imminent. When it happens, no one aboard this ship will be able to remain uninvolved.”

Suntuzel stepped forward, his frustration evident.

“And why should we care about your internal squabbles? What’s your point?”

Laril turned his head slightly toward Suntuzel but addressed Sylas directly.

“The Third Circle values strategic alliances, especially in times of chaos. We know you’ve kept a neutral stance so far, but neutrality won’t protect you when the battle spills into every corner of this ship. I’ve been sent to propose an understanding—one that benefits us both.”

Sylas’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile.

“An understanding? You presume much, Laril Terdan. What makes you think I’m interested in aiding the Third Circle?”

“I don’t presume anything,” Laril replied evenly.

“But I know that the Frost Elves are aligning with powers that don’t have your interests in mind. If they gain the upper hand, they won’t stop at just the Third Circle. They’ll consolidate their control over Blue Hope. And where will that leave you?”

Gran spoke up then,

“And what, exactly, do you think we can offer you? Or you us?”

“That is what I came to discuss. But I see you’re not ready to have that conversation just yet.”

Sylas nodded.

“You’re perceptive, Laril. Yes, you’re right—we’re not ready. I’ll need time to consider your... proposition. Come back in two days.”

Lariil inclined his head slightly.

“Fair enough. But understand this: time is not on anyone’s side. The longer you delay, the more unpredictable this situation becomes.”

Sylas’s eyes narrowed.

“Then I suggest you use those two days to make sure your offer is worth my time.”

Laril nodded once more, his face betraying nothing.

He turned on his heel and walked toward the door.

As he passed Gran and Suntuzel, both men watched him with unmasked suspicion, their gazes sharp and unyielding.

Laril left without another word, the door closing softly behind him.

The room remained silent for a moment after his departure. Finally, Suntuzel let out a low whistle. “Bold move, coming here like that. I don’t trust him.”

Gran grunted in agreement.

“Neither do I. But he’s right about one thing—this conflict isn’t going to leave us untouched.”

Sylas returned to his seat, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “

I don’t trust him either. But trust isn’t necessary for what we’re doing here. Information, positioning, leverage—that’s what matters. And Laril just gave us a glimpse of how desperate the Third Circle has become. It is true we are friends and close, as we do have many connections with Third Circle. But in this ship, it does not mean that much.”

“Third Circle values me and us, but if needed to solve their problems, they can sacrifice us in a heartbeat.”

Suntuzel frowned.

“What’s the plan, then?”

“We wait. Let them come to us. In two days, we’ll see just how far Laril and his masters are willing to go.”

Gran nodded.

“Consider it done.”

As the group dispersed, Sylas remained seated, deep in thought.