Despite his missing limb and many wounds, Adam only allowed himself a short hour of rest before readying the Communications Raven that the Grandmaster had gifted him. "I hope Valeria has good news for us, but I wouldn't count on it," he confessed to Tenver and Solara. "Our situation is rather dire right now."

Tenver gently pet the raven, then set it down on a wooden table. "True enough. My dear Uncle will not let our survival stand. We should expect the mightiest army that the strongest Empire in history can summon to come marching down our gates soon."

"And how mighty would that be?" Solara raised an eyebrow. "There's a reason why even your father hesitated to commit resources to Ciro's military. Even leaving aside the Rot, there's a long strip of inhospitable land between the Empire's capital and our side of the world."

This was true. Both their quick arrival and quicker escape had only been possible due to Baltsar's one-of-a-kind Airship. "You think the Emperor will be hesitant to send a large army?" Adam asked. "Because he can't afford to feed that many soldiers over a lengthy campaign?"

"Orbs make the world turn," Solara said, in a soft tone. "He wouldn't be able to bear the expense."

At that, Tenver laughed. "You speak as if we can fend off even a smaller army. The Puppet Mines may aid Adam's cause, but they do not rally to them. With only Gama and Penumbria's forces...how long do you think our defenses will hold?"

"Father and Adam are both Lords," Solara pointed out. "Fighting from inside their Realms will turn their cities into veritable fortresses."

Tenver shook his head. "Not without cost. You saw how powerful the Hangmen are – we were extremely fortunate to survive. If Ciro sends even a few of them, they would shatter the Realms' Walls and erase our advantage immediately."

It didn't escape Adam's notice that Tenver had hinted at the solution before stating the problem. "Not without cost," Adam slowly repeated. Earlier, using one of the Puppet's Ravens, he'd watched Aspreay's duel against the Strongest Hangman. The experience was eerie, sinister – but most of all, informative. "You mean altering the Realm's Laws?"

"Their attacks cannot break a Wall that isn't blocking their path," Tenver said, with a shrug. "If we grant them access, they'll be forced to enter the Realm to strike at our Lords. They'd likely destroy the cities in the process, aye, but–"

Solara slammed her fist onto the table. "And then what?" Her voice was fierce, and her eyes blazed hot with righteous fury. "Adam has been doing everything he can to acquire enough Orbs to keep people from starving...and you suggest we simply let Ciro annihilate an entire city? How would the survivors make it through winter – survive the Rot? Even if we achieve victory, it would merely be death by a different name!"

"Well, mayhap the lady will offer an alternative suggestion then, hmm?" Tenver's face tightened. He wore the expression of a man who took no pleasure in his choices. "Would it be more noble to let ourselves be fully slaughtered by the usurper, then?"

"That's not what I'm saying! We need to find a way to survive with our walls intact!" Solara whipped her gaze at Adam. "Tell him! Tell him I'm right!" Tenver also turned his head towards him as well.

But Adam wasn't looking at either of them. Instead, he was still patiently waiting for the raven to show signs of life. Phantom pains itched at his missing arm; he wouldn't be able to heal it until Solara's Resurrection recharged tomorrow.

"I think," he said, eyes still on the bird, "that our first priority lies elsewhere."

Elf and Puppet exchanged confused glances. "Adam?" Tenver ventured, with a sliver of hesitance. "What do you mean?"

"What I've always meant." Adam faced the duo and met their gazes. "My goal, now and forever, is to keep my people safe. From starvation, from the winter, from the Empire...but also from the Rot."

He clenched his fist. "Without the Empire's machines that keep the Rot from spreading, winning or losing won't matter. Penumbria and Gama are both going to be Rotten within months."

Solara opened her mouth, then closed it again. It was nearly a full minute before she spoke. "That's why you gambled on speaking with the Emperor despite the likelihood of betrayal, wasn't it?"

Adam nodded. "Yeah. Even if we kill Ciro, it isn't as if we could easily take over his Empire's techniques and technologies. Not quickly enough to contain the Rot, anyway. I was hoping for at least a temporary alliance – something long enough for us to try and steal their secrets."

With the stump of his arm, he gestured at their collective wounds. "Evidently, it didn't work out."

"Yet you aren't panicking," Tenver noted. He smiled. "Why?"

The Raven piped up. "Mayhap because I am here," Valeria said, speaking through it.

At once, the trio turned to face the bird. lowered one wing, then crossed it over its chest, as if bowing politely to them. Goddamn unsettling is what this is, Adam mused. When it finished its greeting, he could have sworn that the thing smirked.

"I looked into what you asked for," Valeria continued.

Solara stepped closer to the Raven. "What did you find out?" She cast an accusatory glance towards Adam. "And what did you ask for?"

"About the location of a Puppet," he said. "About the Grandmaster's original body."

Perhaps Solara and Tenver would've been more shocked had Valeria allowed this moment the gravity it deserved. Instead, she laughed loudly and haughtily through the Raven, its beak repeatedly opening and closing like a door shutter beset by the wind. "Ah, my lord, you amuse me greatly! I've spent much of my life trying to uncover that very secret, yet you hand it out to your allies so freely!"

"Not freely," Adam firmly stated. "I only speak because they've earned my trust." He paused. "They are...my friends."

Though he meant the words, he wished not to let anyone comment on them. And so, he continued, "The Grandmaster is among the original Puppets; the ones created by Dragons to combat the Rot. They can feel it and absorb it."

Tenver nodded, his eyes still wide. "Forgive me, my lord – my friend." He stopped to consider both his words and his thoughts. "You mentioned the Grandmaster's first body. Do you mean..."

I thought Tenver was already aware of it, Adam thought. Or was he only aware of Serena and the Grandmaster being the same person?

It didn't really matter at the moment, though, so he pressed on. "The Grandmaster has been using his Talent of Communications to transfer his consciousness into new bodies," the Painter explained. "And while I'm not sure on all the details, I do know that their original body was incredibly effective at resisting Rot."

"What does it matter?" Solara asked, losing patience. "Would that truly help us?"

Adam nodded. "It would. If we assume that the Grandmaster's first corpse was taken over by Rot, then it should still be shambling about like a mindless beast, yeah? An exceptionally strong one."

Tenver winced. "I hope I'm misreading your plan."

"The Grandmaster is unlike all other Puppets," Adam said, ignoring the side comment. He pointed at Tenver's wooden arm. "His ability to detect and counteract the Rot is innate – and unmatched. Other Puppets merely have that ability shaped into them as he creates them."

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Tenver shook his head with a mournful air. "It is as I feared. Your plan really is what I presumed it would be."

Adam smiled at him. He's been dealing with the Grandmaster for years. My guesses have probably crossed his mind a few times before. "There's a chance that the Grandmaster's innate ability is a Talent. And if it's a Talent–"

Solara gasped, then jumped up with a triumphant laugh. "If it's a Talent," she excitedly began, "you can paint it, can't you?"

"Yes." Adam flashed her a smile as well. "Granted, that's only if my Painter Talent can affect the Grandmaster's original shambling corpse. For all we know, the Rot absorption Talent left its body along with the Grandmaster's consciousness."

I'd like to try painting the Grandmaster's current body, but I doubt he'll give me the chance. Even if I managed to figure out his soul, it won't matter if he simply never allows me back into the Mines. He can probably guess what I'd try.

Adam shrugged, considering other possible issues. "Also, to paint the corpse, I'd need to be capable of accurately painting the Grandmaster himself. No guarantee I can do that."

He shrugged again. "Oh, and there's a chance that his Rot absorption ability isn't a Talent at all. My painting – accurate or otherwise – would be worthless in that case."

Another issue jumped out at him. "Right. There's also the chance that even if it is a Talent, and even if we can use it, we still won't be able to protect our cities from Rot without a proper vessel. The Dragons of old made Puppets for a reason."

Adam turned towards the group, his smile growing ever wider. "Well, aside from all that, it's a flawless plan."

Solara glared at him. Tenver nodded thoughtfully. Lastly, Valeria cackled through the Raven. "Ah, well," the Detective began. "There's a reason this wasn't your first plan, yes? But it is a plan. That's something."

"And you hopefully have good news," Adam added.

"To a point. Thus far, my research indicates that your assumptions about the Grandmaster's Talent...are correct."

The Raven's eyes seemed to gleam with anticipation. "I can even locate his original corpse quite easily."

"Is it safe?" Solara asked, her voice sharp.

"Is it far?" Tenver asked, with a grin.

"You've already passed the graveyard of the damned," Valeria said, answering both. "The Santuário das Chamas – Aspreay Arcanjo's homeland before it was claimed by the Rot. It was an old settlement built near the base of the mountain where the Dragons of old lived."

Adam recalled how they'd flown over it earlier, but the memory only served to confuse him. "We did pass by Aspreay's hometown," he acknowledged. "It's where Eric used his Genius Realm for the first time. However, there wasn't any mountain there."

The Raven cackled, then threw its wings up in the air, as if offering an apology it didn't truly mean. "That is most astute of you, my Lord!" Valeria couldn't keep a note of dread from entering her voice. "Indeed, there is no mountain. Not anymore. Not since the Age of Dragons."

Adam bit back the questions on his tongue. There are more important things to ask about. I would rather my curiosity burn than my people. For now...

"Will the Grandmaster work with us?" he inquired, keeping the desperation out of his tone. "If his corpse shares the same life story as him, then–"

Tenver laughed. "–Then there's no way the Grandmaster will cooperate," he finished. His lips curled into a smirk, and his eyes burned with a quiet rage. "In order for Adam to paint an accurate portrait, he would first need to learn the Grandmaster's life story – including his life's secrets. That would give Penumbria the upper hand in any future negotiations."

He shook his head. "Furthermore, while the Puppets may be willing to offer funding, that is different from sending soldiers to die on the field of battle. As of now, they have little reason to fear us. Especially not to the point where they'd openly stand against the Empire. We'll need far more leverage to cow them into submission."

Solara stepped backward as if she had been slapped across the face. "You would intimidate your own people into fighting a war?"

"When Emperors squabble, kingdoms fall," Tenver quietly said. "I will do whatever necessary to ensure that my dear Uncle is never allowed to rule or slaughter again."

Adam didn't know whether he could feel as ruthless as that. Whatever we do, people will die. People would've died even if we hadn't gotten involved, but now their deaths will come about as a direct result of our actions.

"Yeah." Adam nodded, his voice solemn. "There is no path forward without death."

Silence fell upon the room. Solara twitched, pacing around in silence with an air of dark unease. Tenver gazed at the ground, arms crossed and tightening his trembling grip.

"So I shall paint one."

Elf, Puppet and Raven all turned to look at him, momentarily spellbound by his unwavering tone. "Just because every choice requires death doesn't mean that I will allow it," Adam declared. "I'll end this with as few casualties as possible. War won't come to visit Penumbria, Gama, or even the Mines."

"Where will it vacation, then?" Tenver asked, with sincere curiosity.

"The Santuário das Chamas," Adam replied. "Aspreay's homeland – and where the Grandmaster's corpse is. Ciro has little reason to send his army to our cities if we aren't there to begin with."

Solara nodded firmly, yet spoke hesitantly. "Although I welcome the idea, it would mean fighting an army without the use of your Realm. That does not bode well."

Tenver shrugged. "It's not as if a traditional fight would do us much good, anyhow. A few hundred men and making ourselves a target elsewhere may be enough." His eyes gleamed. "Provided Adam has a plan, that is."

"I do. Assuming I can find out the Grandmaster's secret beforehand...and that we can handle one other matter." He sent an inquisitive glance at the Raven. "Valeria, do you know of his whereabouts?"

"Aye," she replied. "I shall ensure his health as well."

"Good." Adam clenched a fist. "Then we can win this war."

Solara seemed close to pounding on the table again. "But how?" Her voice was filled with anguish, frustration, and an ember of growing fury. "Even if we mustered up all our troops, even if we convinced the Puppet Mines to fight alongside us, even if the Emperor doesn't send a large army...we would still be outnumbered ten to one at best! Do you really think we're stronger than the Empire, Adam?"

"Is strength measured by power? If so, no." Adam contemplated the pain of his phantom limb once more. How many others had suffered worse wounds than this because of Ciro's tyranny? "But I define strength by victory. If we win, we're stronger. Simple as that."

"How?" Solara insisted.

"Orbs make the world turn," Adam said, using her own words against her. A manic grin spread across his face. "And I plan on hitting the Emperor where it hurts most: his purse strings."