“We found a few stragglers,” Daenara informed me through the House Coin's connection. “The rest of the Holy Kingdom’s people escaped through the Portal of Exchange before we could get to them. The scene is… grotesque.” Her voice was filled with disgust, and I doubted most of her entourage had managed to keep their stomach contents. The few times I’d seen the law of equivalent exchange applied to large-scale magic had resulted in the most horrifying scenes I’d ever witnessed. The bodies of the sacrificed were turned into scattered mush, showering the area of effect in a rain of flesh and gore.

“Good work,” I replied. “Reach out to Field Marshal Marell about collecting them.” She confirmed my orders, and I disconnected the link, turning to face Nida. “Keep watch over them until the collectors arrive.” I paused, debating something before sighing. “And tell them not to kill the girl. They can interrogate her a little, but keep it basic until I return.” Normally, I wouldn’t have bothered with ensuring Juniper's survival; however, the Marquess had been abnormally cooperative, and I doubted the girl knew anything he didn’t. No need to turn a cooperative captive into a hostile one.

“I have to babysit them?” Nida complained, smacking the flat of her spear tip against Juniper’s ass. “Isn’t the wyvern enough? Hasn’t the Marquess already been branded with your slave mark? It’s not like he’ll run away.”

I shrugged. “I want to make sure they stay put and the collection goes smoothly. I still have many, many questions to ask him about the spell he used. In all honesty, Nida, I’m not entirely sure he even knew what he was doing. Not many people, even those of a higher echelon of power than the Marquess, know what Runic is, much less how to properly wield it. In this case, it struck me more as an act of desperation than anything else.” The only response I received from the Marquess was a groan of pain. “Since I doubt I’ll be able to get full answers from him today before he passes out, I’ll get my answers tomorrow.”

“I bet we could keep him awake,” Nida growled toward the Marquess.

I shook my head. “There are more important matters to take care of at the moment than satisfying my curiosity about the Marquess’ conspiracy theories. The Pandorian Empire is not an immediate threat. For now, we need to focus on capturing the Cael aggressors and wiping our city clean of its infestations.”

The tigerkin woman cocked her head. “Are you planning to rid the entire city of the Caelian people?” she asked. “There are thousands of citizens here, my queen.”

“Of course not,” I said. “Where is the use in that? Loyalties change as often as the seasons. Show the citizens a better future under the Lysorian banner than what the Marquess was providing, and they should be content. Any resisters can be dealt with.” There were, after all, always a few mortals who resisted change. It was human nature to rebel.

Now, though, armed with my Soul Weaver abilities, I could quash any resistance by simply identifying the leaders and turning them into the Resurrected.

“Where should I meet you?” Nida finally said after a moment of thought.

“I will be heading to the forefront and helping finish the removal of Cael soldiers from within Sealrite’s walls,” I replied with a sly grin. “You took my daily exercise from me, after all.” I motioned to the unconscious Juniper, and Nida let out a loud laugh. "But first I may take a moment to see Sealrite."

After a second or so of consideration, I decided to walk. When I’d left the main battle to chase after Marquess Sharma, the House Alistar soldiers had been dominating the fight, and the occasional reports I overheard through the House Coin continued to confirm that understanding. So, instead of rushing at breakneck speed to a battle likely won, I figured I’d take a stroll through the city and see if Sealrite had anything to offer. After everything settled down, I would need to make my way to both the central estate of Duke Alistar in his territory to take over as Duchess of House Alistar and return to the Silverwater Estate for the core formation doctrine of House Silverwater. Assuming it was still there, of course.

I might as well take a look at my first city in Graedon. Showing myself and giving aid to a few people in need might work well in raising my popularity within the city as well. After everything, and the high intensity of my life since arriving in Graedon, I could use a few hours to rest my mind.

And so, I went on a pleasant stroll. I walked the same path to the city from the Colosseum I’d used after the banquet and enjoyed the same blood-red sunset as the sky’s light arced down toward the horizon.

I walked into the residential section and observed the destruction my plan had rained upon the citizens. The houses and buildings were still broken and crumbling, maintaining only shadows of their former beauty. The structures seemed to have been built with exceedingly weak materials. I was no architect or engineer, but even I could tell the homes and stores had been badly built. I wondered for a few moments where I would go about finding people of that skill set in Graedon.

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I’d found a mage with enough talent and intellect to teach Nasq in the capture of Marquess Sharma, but I’d have to make a trip to the Lysorian royal court if I wanted access to the space mage. Which I did. I could conquer as much of this world as I wanted to, but if I didn’t figure out a way to return to Ordite, then all that preparation would be for naught.

Along the way I stumbled into a handful of people needing some aid, removing a fallen wall from atop an elderly man to healing a wounded Lysorian soldier with some heart energy. I'd helped nearly a dozen injuries on my way through the residential section, though nothing of any particular note occurred. Most were too exhausted to so much as thank me, much less remember what I looked like. A general waste of my time.

That was when a stream of cries echoed from a few blocks over, and, with nothing else pressing, I decided to make my way in that direction. I ended up spotting a group of men and women screaming about something in the courtyard of a rather high-end residential section. Unlike the initial area I’d walked through, the buildings here were in much better condition. Most of them had taken very little damage at all, other than burns and giant cracks in the stone structuring.

I watched the five or so men and women arguing until they were red in the face. They all wore clothing I could tell was expensive, not simply because of all the precious gems lining the helms, but because of how their movements slid across the material as if the clothes were smooth as silk. Which they might just be.

It was a rather ironic situation, considering the rest of the city was effectively on its deathbed. Even now, a war raged within their walls. I couldn’t tell if the people shouting were rich, fools, simply ignorant, or a mixture of all three. Instead of interrupting their conversation, I approached enough to hear them more clearly and then slipped around the corner to lean against a slab of stone that had, at some point, broken away from the multistory building next to it.

“We need to leave,” the woman with long blonde hair that curled at the ends shouted. The man at her side laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, but his middle-aged face was lined with a grim expression as he nodded.

“Aye, we must. There is no telling what the Lysorian barbarians will do to us,” he agreed.

“You are cowards,” the second woman shouted, jutting a finger at the first woman’s chest. “Our Lord has returned to fight for us, and you wish to flee? We should gather the rest of us and remove the arrogant Lysorian duke from our Lord’s seat.” She turned to the remaining two, both men in heavy silver armor. “My sons are cored warrior mages of the second realm and part of the Marquess’ forces. If we gathered all of our neighbors, we could put up a resistance. We could attack them from the inside while the Marquess fights from the outside.” She paused, her eyes alight with fire and determination despite how hard she was breathing and the fact her sweat-covered face now matched the color of her orange hair.

“Alice,” the first woman shrieked. “Think about what you’re saying. We will all die! Do you want to die? I don’t.” Tears were in her eyes as she clutched the small bump of her stomach.

The other woman, Alice, seemed to have enough sense to adopt a chagrined look but pressed forward. “I understand your concern, Marissa. But we must fight. We must.”

“Aedonia’s tits, woman,” the man next to Marissa said, squeezing her shoulder. “You are asking a woman heavy with child to fight and die for a noble we saw only once a cycle?”

“Not for the Lord,” Alice shouted back. “For our country. Do you have no pride as aristocrats? No honor?”

I pushed off from the slab of stone and rounded the corner. The man next to Marissa had opened his mouth in retort, but promptly shut it when he spotted me. The rest of them seemed surprised by the confused look on the man’s face, but quickly noticed him staring at me and joined him in their gawking.

“What?” I asked, looking down at the middle-class trousers and white shirt I’d taken to wearing at the camp with the ex-slaves and realizing I’d never had the opportunity to change into nicer clothes. Not that I wanted to. A closer look revealed that my shirt wasn’t exactly white anymore. It was stained with blood and Dash’Ora gore; some of it was even burnt black from fire. The trousers weren’t in much better shape. A large rip tore down my shirt in a diagonal line, revealing a good amount more skin than I figured was appropriate for any age. Both of the women wore dresses, so I redirected my gaze to the men. I had no interest in the massive armor. “Ah. I suppose I look somewhat like a beggar, do I not?”

They ignored me completely.

“She heard you. Aedonia’s tits,” Alice groaned at the same time both her sons drew a pair of matching sticks about the size of my forearm, pointing them toward me. “We can’t let her leave now.” She looked at me with a pair of sad eyes. “Sorry, dear.”

The first of Alice’s sons, I noticed he had a beard, drew on his magic core, and a dot of white light illuminated the tip of his stick. I reacted out of pure instinct.

The instant the man pulled power from his core to strike me, my core roared to life. A tidal wave of raw heart energy pulsed from my core with an outward explosion and slammed into him. The sight was not particularly pleasant despite how quick it was.

His nose was first. Steam erupted from the tip of his nose as my heart energy met his skin. Then the entirety of his face and neck followed quickly after. Wherever the wave touched, the man burned to ashes. There was not so much as a second for him to scream before he was completely eviscerated by the sheer power of my raw energy.

Marissa screamed, and the man holding her shoulder swiftly placed her behind him. His face contorted into a mask of pure terror.

Alice and her other son hadn’t moved. The woman simply blinked, her mouth open as if stunned. Her son trembled, his outstretched arm holding the stick dropping to his side as he stared at the spot where his brother had stood only seconds ago.

“Ashwash’s balls,” I swore. “Apologies. I hadn’t meant to do that. The boy surprised me.”