In the days that followed, the Sapon Duchy gathered its forces and sent troops to raid the enemy ranks as they slowly approached Heaven’s Peak. Jordia dreaded the news of thousands of dead. The ambassador had never been a man of war; he had even skipped hand-to-hand training with Uncle Enrico as unnecessary. No, his ambitions lay elsewhere. A world of words, where, through proper conditioning, one could convince a former enemy to become an ally or, at worst, a trading partner. The matriarch saw his gift and placed him in the diplomatic corps of Iterna, where his skills were nurtured for the betterment of his country. And the Family.
But he wasn’t stupid or ignorant. There were mad or ambitious fools in the world, and more often than not, someone had tried to end his life at a meeting. They all failed, of course; a fourth-generation Problemsolver was equal to a wolf hag or a thug master, and Jordia was protected by none other than Galwich, a fourth-generation Problemsolver who had undergone a procedure that turned the woman into a pseudo-sixth-generation Problemsolver. The fact remained. Wars happened. Not everyone could be convinced. And modern weapons triumphed over natural abilities and powers.
The Sapons proved him wrong. The forces of the Reclamation Army slowed to a snail’s crawl in the Living Lands’ forests. Tanks got stuck in dirt and roots. Trees regrown overnight, replacing the roads made by tank treads or fire. Insects carrying deadly diseases took the Piper’s toll. Beasts the size of wagons prowled the darkness, snatching entire raiding parties. The Living Lands demanded respect. And its dangers claimed the lives of soldiers who were used to fighting in the desolate regions. And through it all, Duke Marcus wielded his power like a hammer, rescuing his troops when they fell on hard times. Not once did the knights force a direct battle.
They always struck from the trees, leaving their heavy armor behind. Armed with improved weapons, the Duchy’s hunters could even pierce the plates of battle armor, and the local hunters were adept at remaining unseen among the greenery or dirt, their scents mimicked by a variety of potions. Jordia was forced to admit that the natives had reason to be certain of their abilities.
But it was also so stupid. His way would’ve saved so many more lives. He saw weeping women as one of the raiding parties returned. They bloodied the enemy but lost so many of their own when a thug master, an analogue of a low-ranked officer among Orais, joined the fray and turned the tide of battle before the knights could call to Duke. A dozen young and old were popped by mighty fingers. Ten more were gunned down. More and more sorrowful processions returned as the Reclamation Army adapted. And when Outsider and their elite forces arrive, all will be lost. The Sapons were trading lives for time, and at the end, they’d lose both.
So senseless. The Ambassador always thought that you have to look at things from different angles, but he struggled to understand what the Reclamation Army wanted. They talk about returning the planet to humanity. Fine, but what does it mean? A world reunited through violence, a world of tyranny, can seldom last long. Too many grudges to keep track of. It would collapse, a day sooner or a day later. If they had just joined forces with Iterna, their goal would have been so much easier. Instead, both sides were in a state of non-aggression, competing with each other for the other nations in the world instead of spreading democracy, technology, and freedom. The Dynast didn’t even have to bend a knee; his nation could have joined as an independent state!
The Dynast had ruined Jordia’s plans to some degree. The “assets” had done their part, infiltrating a Malformed tribe, and this allowed the ambassador to present them to Marcus on a silver platter, thus earning the Duke’s trust. There were some complications regarding the rescue of the children, but Jordia refused to budge on the matter, keeping his promise to the agents. Now the hissing and confused Malformed were kept in the stasis chamber beneath the Embassy, awaiting the time when it would be safe to deliver them to Iterna’s therapists for reeducation into a proper life. Both agents were now healed and eager to help the locals. He shot down their enthusiasm and made it clear that they were not to fight the Reclamation Army in any way, shape, or form. Jordia will not risk starting a war over a single region.
Today, Ubion invited him to the local tavern, claiming the entire building for the two of them. Jordia accepted, curious as to what exactly Ubion wanted to talk about. Lianas and vines surrounded the stone tavern; some even broke through the stone wall, creating beds of lush green in certain rooms. Jordia visited the place several times, meeting with merchants and admiring the soft touch of the local women. Today, he was greeted by almost complete silence, save for a few birds chirping on the tavern’s walls and guards making their rounds. There were no bards singing songs, no whores hawking themselves, no drunken brawls, and no servants.
“My friend!” The champion rose from a table filled with food. Jordia had received word from his bodyguards that the people of Ubion were busy removing Marcus’ spies from the area and the walls of the tavern. Whatever the champion had to say, it was to remain confidential. “I will leave for the front today. However, I understand that we have never talked heart-to-heart before, you and I. Please sit down and feast with me; this may be my last chance to do so.”
Jordia smiled and sat down beside the champion. For today’s meeting, he had donned the rich furs of a merchant, the blue of Iterna, and the national symbol, the sprawling tree at his back. More than one worker at the embassy had noticed the heat of the Living Lands, accompanied by extreme humidity in the air. The natives had grown accustomed to such conditions, where most normal Iternians had trouble. A set of enhanced organs and implants hidden beneath the Ambassador’s girth helped him to compensate for this ordeal.
“With pleasure, my dear host.” Jordia smiled, invoking the rules of hospitality, and took a bite of the meal while drinking mead. The food fell into his stomach, which had been carefully engineered by some of Iterna’s finest medics. His internal systems confirmed that there was no poison in either meal or mead. So one possibility was eliminated.
While he waited for a chance to meet the queen, Iternian agents had begun probing the local elementalists. The academy was still out of reach, but surely there might be a disgruntled specialist or two ready to move on to greener pastures? Jordia had no idea if the locals’ enhancements would be of any use to his homeland’s war machine, but he was curious about the almost industrialized way of producing abnormals with powers. Somehow, the queen had solved one of the greatest mysteries of the New World. If her methods were not immoral and if it was possible to replicate this procedure... The possibility of creating Problemsolvers capable of wielding elements would have immortalized the Family, ending the centuries-long rivalry between the Barjonis and those Rhos upstarts.
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Of course, this way was perilous. No one in their right mind would give up such secrets for free. Jordia half expected Ubion to try to end him here and now. The champion, at least based on what his informants revealed, had been involved in several cleansings targeting the Sapons’ enemies. Galwich, although she didn’t like letting Jordia risk himself, stood outside, ready to put an end to any delusions the champion’s could’ve harbored. Yet the man, dressed all in black except for the gold chain of his royal house, sat at the table, emanating no notable hostility. His eyes were keen, and his smile was warm.
“I must admit, I am a bit saddened that you chose to hide your true motives during your proposal to Marcus.” Ubion remarked, gorging himself on food.
“Pray, explain what you mean by this, good warrior,” Jordia said.
“You have an ulterior motive; that is clear as day.” Ubion showed his fist. He raised a finger. “Iterna’s machines do not work in the Living Lands.” He raised a second finger. “The Reclamation Army’s machines work in the Living Lands. One would think that you were so eager to go negotiate with the Army in order to reveal their secret.”
“I think that one is overestimating me,” Jordia laughed in a good-natured manner. “Now that you said it, it does seem like a good idea. I am kicking myself for not having thought of it first.”
“Some men were noticed near the prison. They were very interested in the armor of the Reclamation Army prisoners.” Ubion raised his third finger.
“You hurt me, sirrah! We would never dare to abuse the Duke’s friendship like that,” the ambassador began to complain jokingly.
“True. But… Let’s say that in war, things sometimes… get lost,” Ubion said with a coy look. “If, say, a full set of armor from our current enemies were to appear in the grasp of our Iternian friends, would Iterna appreciate this?”
“Naturally! Sadly, such a thing is only possible in the realm of dreams.” The ambassador sighed in feigned disappointment as they both began to feast and joke with each other.
What could he want for it? Jordia wondered and decided to probe the situation with a question:
“From my understanding, you never passed the same test as Duke Marcus.”
“Ah, that.” Ubion waved his hand. “It is true; I was chosen to be raised as a champion at birth. Split between the church and my house, I could never take the test because only heirs to the house can take it. And I was no longer eligible to be an heir, anyway.”
“How so?”
“My manhood. When you are chosen to be a champion, you have to dedicate your whole life to mastering martial arts. Women and men and the pleasures of the flesh are considered distractions on this path. So, as the choice was made for me…” Ubion made a cutting sign in the air.
“Barbaric.” The ambassador shook his head in disgust. “But not irreversible.”
“Pardon me?” Ubion raised a brow.
“In Iterna, it is illegal to be missing any part of the body.” Jordia began to explain. “If you were to, say, become a citizen of our country, theoretically, of course, you would have to go to the doctors to have all your functions restored. Free of charge, of course, our government pays for it all.”
“How wondrous and kind.” Ubion was lost in thought for a moment. “Our knights go on quests from time to time... I may find time, and we will create a nice legend about my travels.”
“But of course.” Jordia smiled to him. It was good that an understanding was found.
“Of course, only if we win,” the champion crushed the ambassador’s hopes. “But...”
“Yes, my friend?” Jordia offered the champion some wine.
“You could do me a great favor.” Ubion tasted the wine, twisted his face in disapproval, and took a cup of mead instead. “A daughter of our late Solgon, may the goddess keep him safe in the next life, recently died during childbirth. Her child is a healthy girl, a good possible heir to the Sapon House. All the elementalists who watched over her agreed that she was born Abnormal,” Ubion drank another cup of mead and continued, “and it is my duty as champion of the Sapon House to keep the line safe. If things go… not favorably, would you take this child with her to Iterna? I was under the impression that you hoard all the Abnormals that you can get. Is that so?”
“But of course, my friend, you need not even ask!” Jordia smiled once more. In Iterna, Abnormals were rare. The fields were cleared of the Glow, and a few Abnormals were born. Of course, Iternian scientists had closed some of the physical gaps between normal humans and Abnormals, and drones, along with VIs troops, were a good equalizer. Still, why reject potentially strong recruits? Iterna had a system where Abnormals from other lands could serve in the army and earn citizenship. Those who had superpowers, in addition to being Abnormal, were almost always accepted.
To get a potential clue on how to withstand the harsh climate of the Living Lands and get an abnormal, who is also a potential heir to the Duchy of Sapon on top of it? Jordia could not wait to see the look on Argus’ face when he presented such a prize to Iterna. The ambassador had originally planned to ask the queen’s court for permission to search the ancient ruins of the Living Lands for rare, lost technology. Tim has already proven that it is too dangerous for their people to work here alone. But if a way for drones to work here could be found... Iterna will be capable of searching for everything of interest here in secret. It will take a long time, but time was something they had in abundance.
The deal was sealed by drinking and feasting. As the ambassador was returning home, he instructed two Problemsolvers to pick up the child and her wet nurse and keep a close eye on the infant. She was too precious for his plans. The Barjonis took anyone of value into their family. Loyalty was often more valuable than blood ties. And if the child really has the same powers as the good Duke... Well, Iterna might have a new Elite in the future, one that would be raised with care and would promote the products of the Barjonis family... And who would have a claim to this land to boot.
***
As he entered the mansion to say goodbyes, Ubion allowed himself a moment of weakness and let out a sigh, kissed his relative on the forehead, and handed her small, gentle body to the nurse. Everything went as smoothly as possible. It was his job to keep the bloodline safe, and the Sapons always used everything to achieve their goals. He sent one of the scions to the queen’s court. The official reason was training, but the real reason was to keep the boy safe. Solgon’s grandchild—well, he went a bit further than that. The elementalist, who unfortunately had to suffer a fatal case of food poisoning to keep the secret, confirmed that she was potentially in the same league as Marcus and his wife. Ehtioh would never have agreed to let an infant near the Glow Crystal to pass the test at such a young age, but Ehtioh was old and foolish. There were more ambitious elementalists who were willing to sneak in someone without Ehtioh ever knowing. The child passed the test, survived, and gained... something. Only time will tell what her true potential is.
“You have your orders,” Ubion said to the wet nurse. The woman bowed. If the city would endure the attack of the Reclamation Army, she was to return to Ubion’s mansion with the infant. If the city should fall, she was to escape with Iterna’s officials, preserving the Sapons’ bloodline. And if the Duke would win, but the ambassador would try to escape with the child… she was to do what needed to be done.
His job was hard. But preserving the line of his family was all that was left for Ubion. And he was intended to keep the bloodline as safe as possible. There was a chance of the duchy being restored as long as there was even one Sapon left, even if the unthinkable came to pass.
Ubion pushed the dark thoughts from his mind and prepared for the war. Nothing was lost yet. With one of his duties fulfilled to the best of his ability, the champion turned his full attention to the battlefield.