Walking behind the Admiral through the high district’s streets, Colin carefully schooled his expression. He had an arrangement with the Guildmistress and the Archmage, but things could rapidly change if Dunster behaved differently from what he expected. He’d have to think quickly to salvage the situation then. He was also under no misunderstanding about the two Masters’ loyalty. They cared only about themselves and their organizations; he was just a convenient pawn.

Not that I think he’ll do anything but bluster and threaten them once they explain how untenable the situation is. His appointment came only because he’s the Count’s distant relative. He owes too much to the man to go against his stated orders to prepare for a siege, even if I believe if he had pushed, the wimp would have evacuated. They are feeding off each other's arrogance.

The chosen meeting ground was an elegant tea house furnished with powerful privacy enchantment independent of the Tower. It was considered a neutral place, which was necessary with how tense things were likely to get. The Admiral was known to enjoy the place’s food and so only saw it as a minor bribe. Business as usual.

They left the contingent of sailors Dunster had Colin assemble behind at the entrance, alongside the two shady men from the adventurer’s guild and the singular scholarly mage resting below a tree’s shade.

The Admiral already didn’t like him, considering him a mouthy, up-jumped peasant. If he expressed even a vague distaste for anything he had decided, Dunster would double down and call for an entire Corp.

He had been tempted to risk it exactly to achieve such a result, but he’d been afraid his hand would show. Even the Admiral would get suspicious if he was too obvious.

The sailors’ presence was a foolish show of force meant to intimidate the two Masters. Colin knew it would fail but didn’t comment. He had selected them to achieve a different mission.

They were greeted at the entrance by an elegant maid, who bowed with a modest smile and silently led them away from the main room, up a flight of stairs, and to a private area.

Golden runes ran along the length of the wood and marble corridor, and Colin knew just enough to recognize several that were intended to silence, comfort, and obscure. No one could listen in.

The room was draped in deep purple and silver, House Luster-Treon’s colors, with plush seating and ornate decorations. The scent of lavender and sandalwood lingered in the air, maintained fresh thanks to extensive aeration enchantments that cost as much to maintain as it took to feed a family of five for a year, adding to the tea house's reputation for luxury.

Archmage Laurentis and Guildmistress Manita were already seated, but stood up to greet them once they entered. Laurentis, with his thin frame and long white hair, cut a solemn figure. His long nose and pale skin gave him a venerable air, and his luxurious robe shimmered subtly, hinting at the protective enchantments woven into its fabric.

Manita, in contrast, exuded raw strength. Her medium-length dark hair framed her brown-skinned, leathery face, and her lilac eyes glinted with fierce intelligence. Her powerful physique and confident demeanor were accentuated by the practical yet finely crafted leather armor she wore even in the most luxurious establishment in Treon. She was not one to conform, and the staff was wise enough to not bother her about the dress code.

"Admiral Dunster, Rear Admiral Masters," Laurentis greeted them with a slow, ponderous nod. His voice was measured, giving the appearance of deliberately choosing every word, though Colin always felt it a bit condescending. "Please, join us.”

Manita offered a curt nod, her demeanor more direct. “It's good to see you both. Sit down; we have much to discuss.”

Given how powerful the two were and how significant their influence on the city was, the initial exchange was quite cordial. But Colin wasn’t surprised. They wouldn’t have gotten to where they were if they couldn’t play ball when needed. They weren’t noble born, after all.

They briefly went through the ritual exchanges of trust, remembering the times they had worked together and reaffirming their loyalty to the King. Once that was done, Dunster wasted no time steering the conversation towards their defenses. "Despite the losses of our Air Force, the Navy remains strong," he declared, his voice booming with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. "We can supply the city for a prolonged siege. All we need to do is hold out until Count Pollus arrives. Together, we can crush the rebels.”

Colin kept his expression neutral, though inwardly, he cringed at the Admiral's overconfidence. He glanced at Laurentis and Manita, noticing their shared look of exasperation.

The Archmage sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries and was sure to have sent countless pupils cringing in embarrassment.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Dunster was too self-absorbed to be affected.

"Admiral, the power arrayed outside our walls is beyond formidable. The Revolutionaries have amassed a force capable of breaching our wards, even without considering what happened with the airship. Their magical and martial prowess is beyond anything I've faced before, and I can guarantee Leonard Weiss still hasn’t shown everything he is capable of.”

Dunster sputtered, eyes wide as if he had not expected the possibility of his line being followed without complaint. Well used to the man’s episodes, Colin tensed for an outburst, but the Guildmistress interrupted before he could get started.

She leaned forward, her lilac eyes piercing like a stalking cat. "Holding out for Pollus is a gamble we cannot afford. The wards are strong, yes, but they are not invincible. If the Revolutionaries breach them, it will be a bloodbath. The Great Slitherer will become a river of blood. We must consider all options to preserve the city, including evacuation.”

Dunster's face reddened, and his jowls quivered with indignation. "Evacuation? You expect me to abandon Treon? Our wards are the finest in Hetnia! They will hold, Count Pollus will arrive, and we will crush these rebels. We have the might of the Navy and the loyalty of the people. Or do I have reason to doubt you?”

This was the most dangerous junction. Colin would have preferred not exposing himself, but sometimes, the moment had to be caught.

“Admiral, I don’t believe the two venerable Masters are implying anything of the sort. Rather, they just want to ensure that the leadership will be preserved in the remote case of a breach as we await to be relieved.”

Laurentis hummed as if acknowledging a great point, “Our duty is to preserve the King’s order. Whether through a dedicated battle or an orderly retreat, we still do not know, but believe me when I say the wards will not hold forever. I have observed the protections cast around the rebels during the last battle, and I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that it was a Champion’s work.”

Watching the Hero go head-to-head with an airship had been enough to convince Colin he needed to go through with a plan he would have normally never attempted. But it had been the Archmage’s stunned expression as he tried to understand the protections around the rebels that had cemented his belief in an evacuation. A single Champion was already beyond what Treon could handle. A second was too much, especially one specialized in wards.

Dunster, however, refused to yield. His face turned a deep shade of crimson as he slammed a meaty fist onto the table, making the delicate porcelain cups rattle despite the enchantments. "Cowards! The lot of you! We have the finest Navy, the strongest wards, and the people's loyalty! Your defeatist talk borders on treason. You will do your jobs, or I will have you arrested and tried as traitors!”

The room fell into a tense silence. Colin could see the strain on Laurentis and Manita's faces. They had expected resistance, but the Admiral's intransigence was proving more stubborn than anticipated.

The old man tried again, calm but firm. “Admiral, you must understand there is no path to victory for us as things stand. We must come to terms with the Revolutionary Army to preserve Treon. If you were to take the flotilla to Garva’s ports, it would be kept intact while the city was under occupation. We can retake it once the Kingdom musters its real strength.”

"Our priority should be to save as many lives as possible and ensure that the city's fall does not become a massacre. The fleet can provide a safe haven for the nobility and key personnel. We will remain and negotiate the terms of occupation to keep the people safe.” Manita repeated slowly, as if talking with a particularly dim-witted child.

Dunster's eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "Negotiate? You would have us grovel before these rebels? Never. I will not abandon this city. The fleet stays, and we’ll fight for every inch if they breach the wards.”

In a way, Colin could respect the Admiral’s stubbornness. He seemed to genuinely not want to abandon his post, even though he had only gotten there through connections. But it was the wrong choice, so he spoke up again in a conciliatory tone, knowing that the man was already too far gone but needing to keep up the appearances up to the last second, “Perhaps ordering a retreat is too hasty, but there could be merit in preparing for the eventuality.”

But Dunster was too far gone. His eyes blazed with fury as he pointed a trembling finger at Colin. "Enough! Rear Admiral, fetch the squadron of sailors. Arrest these two for treason.”

Colin hesitated only a moment. He had expected this, but the finality of the moment still struck him. He looked at Laurentis and Manita, their eyes locked onto his, silently urging him to act. This would change everything, but his decision was already made.

"No, Admiral," Colin replied, his voice steadier than he expected. "You are endangering the city and its people. I cannot follow that order.”

Before Dunster could react, Colin slashed the air with a muttered incantation. Water surged from his hands, swirling around the Admiral and binding him tightly. The fat man struggled, his face turning a deeper shade of puce, but the spell held firm. Colin had settled on [Riptide’s Grip] precisely because it could only be dispelled through overwhelming force or deep attunement with the currents, which the man lacked despite his position. It felt poetic.

"You dare?" Dunster spat, his voice a mix of rage and disbelief. His mana sparked, and angry winds whipped around him but were rapidly absorbed into the watery ropes, leaving him out of breath, "Release me at once!”

“I’m placing you under arrest for endangering critical assets and blindly leading your men to their deaths. You will be treated according to your rank and released to the care of Duke Garva or someone of equal rank. Do not resist further, or I will have to be rougher.” Colin said frostily.

The two masters watched silently, with something akin to approval. Colin didn’t doubt they would sell him out should the need arise, but for the moment, they were all conspirators, bound to each other.

“The die is cast, then. The fleet is yours, Rear Admiral. I wish you luck. You’ll need it.” Laurentis’ words seemed oddly final, but Colin had no time to decode them. Instead, he opened a window and gestured for the men down below to enter the building. He had a navy to take over and a retreat to organize.

A few seconds later, he motioned to the guards marching up the stairs to enter, unheeding the maid’s protests. "Take the Admiral to the holding cells. Ensure he is well treated but secure.”

Another man came rushing down the corridor, looking like he was ready for a fight. Luckily for what had to be the establishment's manager, he was spared Colin’s wrath as the Archmage finally stood up and walked over to intercept him, gesturing to leave it to him.

Light help me if my coup has to be slowed down by a butler angry at the mess I’m making in his teahouse.

Outside, the sailors formed a tight group, holding the still-bound Admiral in the middle, now too exhausted to struggle thanks to Colin’s spell.

“Let’s go,” Colin ordered, leading the men away, sparing only a glance at the castle. If he wanted to secure the nobles, he’d need to act quickly before word trickled down about his takeover.

But first, the barracks.