Shek walks through the outer village of the Citadel’s castle town carrying a basket of wheat, fruits, and potatoes that she traded for. She has been practicing making food thanks to Xyreko, and Xyreko gave her a new recipe to try.

Skloe, carrying her own basket, says warmly in their shared goblin language, “[Shek, do you worry that we don’t speak good?]”

“[What do you mean?]”

“[Everyone else… always sounds so smart. What if they don’t like us?]”

Shek smiles softly. “[We only need to worry about Ma-... Mmm… Daniel understanding. But… I suppose you're right. But, how do we get better?]”

“[M-Maybe we can ask Xyreko?]”

Shek nods in agreement. “[Yes! She’s teaching me to cook, so hopefully she can teach us to talk better, like proper goblin queens.]”

Skloe nods in agreement excitedly.

They both come to a stop when Shek, specifically, notices something. She jogs towards the thing she noticed, and she finds footprints. Specifically, they are boot prints. Daniel does visit the town, and he’s very popular with everyone because he’s very generous with his time, magic devices, and he’s respectful of all races, as if there are no different races.

Such being the case, these boot prints look smaller than Daniel’s, and some of them are even half the size, similar to how dattakoriens or gatonines walk like they’re on their tiptoes. It’s just how they walk, and it affords them great dexterity and stealth, but can affect their traction. Or, so Treia has explained when Shek asked.

Seeing the boot prints takes Shek back to when she was captured in order to guide enemy soldiers to Daniel.

Skloe asks, “[What’s wrong?]”

“[Daniel’s in trouble! We have to tell someone! Enemies have snuck in!]”

Shek and Skloe jog as quickly as their heavily-pregnant bellies will allow towards the south donation podium where the residents donate mana once a week to supply the Citadel with magic power. Everybody has assigned days so that only a portion of the residents are exhausted of mana at any given time.

They find Balamae, the ‘Mana Guide’, who is one of the intelligent golems of the Citadel, like Xyreko. They approach Balamae as she’s helping one of the elderly ogres make his mana donation. Before the Citadel, he likely wouldn’t last much longer, since an ogre too weak to hunt or fight is usually left behind… or becomes food.

But, Shek has to inform someone important. “Balamae! Balamae! Shek have important to say!”

Balamae looks, “Oh! Queen Shek, Queen Skloe; one moment.”

“No! Please listen!” cries out Skloe.

“Shek see boot prints! Enemies! Daniel need!”

Balamae cocks her head, and the ogre looks at her, and then the goblins. “Please, help the little ones. I am in no rush.”

Balamae nods and excuses herself.

“Boot prints?” asks the golem.

“Yes! Just like Daniel’s! We need hurry!”

“Lots of boots!” adds Skloe.

“Are you sure they aren’t Daniel’s?” asks Balamae gently.

Shek shakes her head. “Different feet! Small! Shek show!” She and Skloe each take one of Balamae’s hands, pulling the golem.

Balamae resists for a moment, but she decides to follow, since technically, Shek and Skloe are high ranking members of the Citadel, though they have very little responsibility comparatively.

Shek and Skloe show Balamae to the spot where they found the footprints, and Balamae crouches to inspect them for a moment. “See! Shek and Skloe find! Just like Shek kidnapping! Need tell Daniel!”

Balamae remarks softly, “There are individuals these prints would fit. But,... His Grace would rather be cautious, wouldn’t he?”

Shek and Skloe both nod vigorously. Skloe adds, “We weak! No track, no find, no win. We… useless…”

Shek also looks sad, and Balamae replies gently, “You both know that isn’t true. For starters, that you noticed this. Even if it turns out to be our allies, it’s always good to be safe. The question is, how did they get in this time?”

She stands up, saying calmly in the goblin dialect Shek and Skloe use, “[I’m returning you two to the secure floor immediately.]” The magic glow of teleportation magic transports the three of them almost instantly, and they are in the control room.

“Balamae tell Daniel?” asks Shek.

“Yes. I shall inform Lady Xyreko and his Grace at once. Thank you, Shek.”

Shek nods happily, and she warns, “A-Ask Daniel be safe. Shek want Daniel safe.”

“I’ll pass the word, my Lady. Don’t leave the secure floor until we can confirm that it’s safe.” With that, Balamae disappears again, and Skloe asks, “[What do we do now?]”

Shek smiles. “[We’ll make the best food we can to welcome our family home. It’ll help pass the time.]”

Skloe nods in agreement, and the two pregnant goblins make their way to the small kitchen area made for when everyone needs to hole up in the secure floor, which is only accessible via teleportation now. It was implemented by Daniel and Xyreko to prevent intruders from being able to access the area and to make it safe for the people he cares about, especially those who don’t have the power to defend themselves, such as Shek and Skloe.

The two goblins may be the simplest and weakest of Daniel’s loved ones, but they will do their best to make everyone happy as well.

***

Balamae appears in the Citadel’s core as Xyreko is partitioning mana to produce golems and armaments for them, racing to make enough troops to quickly respond to the large invading force. The Caretaker is also diverting energy to producing more of the shuttles and rovers to increase efficiency of delivering combat golems, though Daniel isn’t planning for them to be ready for this confrontation.

“Mother, a moment.”

The Citadel’s core isn’t a physical place, as it is merely the extradimensional plane where the souls of Xyreko, Balamae, Ucahote, and the others are bound and from where they control the Citadel’s magic functions, including the golems they use to interact with everyone else. From their perception, it is a fairly plain place, though there is a lazy swirl of color emanating from the vast pool of magical energy present.

Xyreko replies, “Yes, dear child? Is everything alright?”

“Shek and Skloe found footprints they are convinced belong to intruders. I judged that his Grace would opt for caution.”

“You judged correctly. Any signs of intruders?”

“No. I’m sorry, Mother. I’ve informed the other Mana Guides, but the footprints were found in the southern district. I positively identified dattakorienoid and humanoid prints of armored boots. No confirmation of whether or not they came from allies.”

“I understand. You’ve done the right thing. Where are Shek and Skloe now?”

“The secure floor. They seemed set on cooking a meal for everyone to pass the time.”

“Good. Daniel and the others have started their assault on the camp. Inform Reignleif.”

“I will, but Mother, I… had a thought.”

“Please share.”

“His Grace operates rather unorthodoxly, often using himself as bait, yes?”

“Regrettably, yes.”

“I would like permission to make an announcement that his Grace, the emperor, is heroically engaging the enemy.”

Xyreko thinks on it for a moment. “May I ask why? I fail to see the advantage.”

“Forgive me, Mother, if I’m being presumptuous, but if we announce that Daniel is the Emperor in context, it may disrupt the infiltration. I hope.”

Xyreko hums. “Ahhh… Yes, I see now. You hope they will be confused and concerned about following actions.”

“Yes. If they are attempting an infiltration once more, they must still believe Daniel is a hostage, meaning word has not reached the appropriate levels.”

The senior-most soul-bound Caretaker thinks for another moment. “Yes… Permission gr-...” Xyreko halts herself. She sighs a little. “Let me ask him, first, to be safe.”

Xyreko goes silent for a moment, and Balamae waits patiently. She continues to monitor her assigned zones, as well as Shek and Skloe. Xyreko’s focus is on Daniel and his team, while Ucahote is mobilizing the battalions of golems she is producing, as well as briefing and arming the residents willing to fight in the off chance the invaders break through. Additionally, many of them are anxious to fight to free the territory around the Citadel to rebuild their homes.

Xyreko finally replies, “Permission granted. Daniel suggests announcing that he will be returning to one of the gates. An illusion or placeholder to draw out the infiltrators is allowed. A living placeholder will be less likely to be discovered early. Recruit a willing ogre or Uhl’tall that has a similar build to Daniel. Do your best.”

“Of course, Mother. Thank you. Are there any additional tasks you need of me?”

“Not at this time. Focus on finding the infiltrators. If you need to, have one of the other Guides take over your southern district duties.”

“Yes, Mother. I’ll return now.”

“Come to me if something else comes up.”

“Will do.” Balamae fades from the core, and Xyreko ponders the infiltrators. She thought she had found and sealed the hole in the water that had allowed the infiltrators last time to enter the Citadel’s perimeter. The only conclusions she can draw are that they either have some way to pass through the barrier that she is unaware of and couldn’t detect, such as some sort of teleportation, extradimensional movement, or phase shifting -all of which are extremely advanced magics that should produce a massive magical signature when entering the Citadel’s perimiter-, or they snuck in before the barrier was established, meaning more than a day prior to the detection of the invading forces.

She wishes she could keep the barrier up indefinitely, but it consumes more mana than they recover from the daily donations. Even if they pressured all of the civilian residents of the Fievegal to donate their mana every day, which would be extremely taxing on all but the healthiest of individuals, it would barely cover the barrier’s consumption. They need more residents.

However, something else piques her interest.

Wenlianna, frustrated and trying to prove herself after being relieved of her mission by Xyreko, returned to working on one of her magic devices.

A magic device that the human magic artisan hopes will charge magic crystals using electricity.

***

A man wearing heavy metal armor jogs through the main operating camp as the many other soldiers of all sizes and races rally in their battalions in preparation for attack by Hekate’s forces. His long grey mantle flaps behind him as he jogs, obscuring his back and tail.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He has to move quickly to reach his destination and ensure the safety of his comrades. The battle could very well hinge on him, in spite of his relatively low station.

However, a voice calls out, “You there! With the grey mantle!”

He slows to a stop, looking at the voice that called out to him. A fairly large human-kin of the shenwulf race is walking towards him. “What company do you belong to?” asks the shenwulf man with a surly voice.

He remains quiet for a moment, thinking. He doesn’t have time to humor this confrontation, but he also can’t make enemies out of those around him.

“Out with it, whelp! And remove that helmet. Do they not show respect to officers in your kingdom?”

“We do,” replies the soldier. “But in battle, we prioritize safety.”

“Well, you’re under joint imperial command, now. Shall I inform the general of your suspicious behavior?”

He hesitates only a moment longer, and he removes his helmet. If it’s coming to this, he might need to anyway.

Removing his helmet reveals his grey eyes, metallic grey hair, and silver-colored horns, which are bleeding where he broke them off.”

“Wh-What are you?” asks the shenwolf.

Other warriors and soldiers around them are taking notice, and they are equally surprised.

Ideally, at a glance, he would appear to be a human, but his horns broke off unevenly when he fractured them, and the blood trickling down into his grey hair stands out. Additionally, his pupils aren’t round like a humans, but faintly cross-shaped to help polarize his vision when he’s breathing fire.

His metallic grey tail is hidden under the mantle, but it seems his subterfuge has been discovered.

“I’m part of the Stalvaltan infiltration company. I’m a messenger looking for the General in charge. I have an urgent report.”

“Stalvaltan? Where’s your sigil?”

A cow-like boruan woman, standing taller and heavier-set than all of those present approaches, remarking, “The Stalvaltan Grand Duchy refused to send support for this campaign.”

He thinks quickly. “Our men have been caught twice attempting to infiltrate the Citadel. We can’t risk the enemy detecting our involvement. The report I have for the General is urgent. It regards the otherworlder, Daniel.”

This piques the interest of those around, though all of them remain on guard, many of whom have their hands on their hilts.

“How’d you sustain those injuries?” asks the shenwulf.

“My head was nearly crushed by a golem. The General?”

The shenwulf glances at the boruan woman. He then states, “I am General Bhargyle. What is your report, soldier?”

The grey soldier uses only his eyes to study his surroundings as he continues to weigh his options and stall for time. An idea hits him. “Infiltrators from the enemy, is it?”

“What?” growls the ‘general’. Several of the soldiers around them draw their weapons.

“General Bhargyle is not part of this operation,” replies the grey soldier. “To think so many would manage to infiltrate the camp.”

“You filthy spy! Seize him!”

Worth a shot, I suppose.

Choul spits a breath of fire at his own feet, exploding a fireball around him as he leaps into the air. The fiery blast startles the soldiers that tried to lunge at him, including the shenwulf ‘general’. He’s certain the shenwulf isn’t the general, but is likely an officer. Of course, it’s equally likely the boruan is an officer, potentially higher ranked, as are the humans, gatonines, and crawgistes that had surrounded him. He knows virtually nothing about eastern military ranks, let alone identifying them. The chances that he ran into the general of the invasion -specifically, the general calling him out- were virtually zero. Additionally, testing a suspicious person with someone who isn’t present is a sensible strategy.

Choul lands behind the boruan woman. He can’t perform offensive maneuvers against people while under the contract, since it would be extremely difficult to account for all contingencies without allowing him to find loopholes to harm people important to Daniel. But, that doesn’t mean his enemies can’t attack his enemies for him. He inhales deeply, and the boruan panics, swinging viciously in a wide arc. Choul easily swoops under the swing, and her massive sword slams that of the shenwulf as the shenwulf narrowly blocks. However, the force of her impact knocks him to the ground. Choul twists his body to avoid a spear throw, and he dances between incoming arrows with skill. He swings his helmet up with his right hand, holding it like a shield.

An extremely convex shield.

An arrow deflects off of the helmet with a shrieking ping, and it spears into the knee of one of the human warriors, causing him to cry out and drop to a kneel. Choul calls out, “Sorry!” He ducks under another swing of the boruan woman, and her sword slams the ground as she bellows in frustration.

He again uses his helmet as a shield as she swings again, ricocheting the momentum of her sword towards one of the other warriors closing in, and the warrior launches himself back.

Choul grunts. “I don’t recommend continuing to engage me.”

“We need help over here!” calls out one of the soldiers.

Choul parries a spear with his tail, spinning in a tight circle around the spearman trying to impale him in melee. An arrow narrowly passes between their extremely-close faces, and Choul is now behind the spearman from the archer that just fired.

As he’s maneuvering dexterously around the soldiers trying to apprehend him, Choul spots his prize; magic devices that preserve food for military operations. The supply staging area is around fifty yards away from him, and there are dozens of soldiers closing in on him to surround him once more.

The disguised dragon licks his teeth quickly, and then he loosely interlocks his teeth with his mouth mostly closed. This time, when he breathes fire, the fuel-air mixture is much more rich, and his venom coating his teeth is a flammable fouling agent , causing the flames to produce thick black smoke as he whirls in a circle. He ignites a couple of the nearby tents in the process, darting through the smoke into one of the burning canopies. He throws a dagger at the temporary shelter on the other side, intentionally making a ripping noise opposite of where he went, and he can hear the boruan woman call out, “This way! He’s escaping through the burning tent!”

“How is this possible!?” calls out another.

“He’s a demon! Find him! His head is bleeding!”

Choul bides his time as the canvas burns around him. He and his armor are virtually immune to a simple fire, though his mantle, singed by his first fireball, burns away as he hides during the soldiers trying to find him in the smoke, which ‘sticks’ rather heavily due to the continued burning of his venom and the excess fuel remaining.

Using the cover of the smoke, Choul darts out of the burning tent and stays out of sight, making his way towards where he saw the magic devices.

There, he dismantles several of them quickly. He doesn’t have time to be gentle, as the immediate area is crawling with soldiers looking for him, and his mantle is gone. It was borrowed from the camp, but it’d take additional time he doesn’t have to obtain another.

And, it does seem word of Daniel’s true status didn’t reach the main camp, yet. He revealed it to the first wave, assuming they believed the display.

Choul pulls the magic crystals out of the magic devices. Most of them appear to be made with salt, which is advantageous in many ways, though it’s less mana per crystal. Wenlianna and Daniel seem to have pioneered magic crystals using diamonds instead of salt, and the diamonds have a much higher mana volume than salt crystals. With Wenlianna in the Citadel, now, Daniel’s allies -and thus, Choul’s allies- may have a monopoly on the ‘enhanced magic crystals’.

Choul notices a handful of soldiers jogging to join the others in the search for him. He doesn’t have time to extract the crystals one by one. He flexes his jaw, groaning a little as he prepares to do what needs to be done.

He bites the first crystal in half, crunching it quickly and swallowing it. The contained mana will diffuse into his body as the crystal discharges. It’s not as safe as pulling the mana out with magic, but it requires no mana to be used, and it will allow them to diffuse into him as he fights. He quickly eats the crystals one by one, and he can already feel the mana building.

Of course, his mouth is on fire from eating nearly-pure salt in humongous quantities, especially considering the much better meals he’s had since coming into Daniel’s employ.

Though he’s not welcome at the family meals by Geirahoel, specifically, where Daniel and his mistresses eat together, Daniel ensures that Xyreko gives him access to the same meals, and they have spoiled him for taste compared to any meal he has had in all his years on Zenkon.

That said, Choul has a job to do. And, thankfully, the main camp is longer than it is wide, meaning the first wall he made required the most magic. The two sides will need considerably less. Though, of course, he’ll need a lot of already charged salt crystals to be able to replenish that much.

He’s cut short when someone walks out of the temporary work shelter nearby and freezes upon noticing him. This person is a young boruan woman wearing a lab smock with light armor padding over top of her torso.

While she’s still well-endowed compared to most races, she would be considered scrawny by boruan standards, as far as Choul knows. She’s shorter than the average human by a small amount, and given the combination of factors, likely not a warrior. Given the magical device she’s carrying and the tool belt she has, it’s more likely she’s either a magic artificer or a magic artisan present to repair any of the army’s magic devices. Choul has only seen some at times, so he can’t identify their functions. But, the one she’s carrying seems to be an armor hardener, a sort of magic device that cycles between elements and allows armor to be hardened with a magic charge that can help resist against offensive magic attacks, which lasts for several hours per charge.

What’s more important, though, is the fact that her tool belt has a pouch full of magic crystals.

Choul lunges in a blindingly-fast step, closing the distance between them in an instant, and he wraps his arms around her to snatch her away to a secluded…

Only, he can’t move her. He can’t apply any force to her as she begins screaming.

Right. The contract. I can’t do much of anything to non-combatants.

He hears voices calling out, “Over here! I heard someone scream!” “Move! Find the spy!”

Choul sighs as she drops the magic device, trying to push away from him. She is able to pry herself free, smacking and punching him to try to drive him off, crying out, “Let me go! Help! Someone!”

While he can’t restrain her, her attacks are far too weak to cause him any harm, meaning she can’t really drive him back. As such, he resorts to the next best thing. He swipes his hand across the front of the pouch with the crystals… but nothing happens. Apparently, he can’t even harm her clothing; anything considered part of her person, he can’t cause harm to.

My Liege, I respect you, but you have greatly made this difficult.

Choul simply scoffs at his plight. Daniel is the Emperor of Dragons, now, and he bested Choul directly. If he demands Choul end his own life, it is to be.

Soldiers of the camp are aware of them, and they’re rallying more troops to rush Choul.

Choul sighs. He has one last plan. He can’t restrain her, but he knows from what Daniel has mentioned -and the fact that they could guide the process when the dragon empresses were still under the magic contract-, that Choul can still touch the boruan woman. He takes her head in his hands, kissing her. She gasps through his lips, stunned by the suddenness and flustered by the act as her brain tries to figure out what’s happening.

Sorry, my Liege. This won’t do wonders for your reputation as my master.

His free hand wasn’t idle. He bought himself enough time to reach into her crystal pouch and take as many of them as he can. He’ll remember her face, so if the opportunity ever presents itself, he’ll reimburse her for the trouble.

She manages to shove herself away from him, shouting, “Get away from me, demon!”

“Roestren! Get clear!” shouts one of the soldiers.

Excellent. Roestren is her name.

“Fear not, fair maiden! I shall take responsibility. My sincerest apologies, my Lady.” He bows, kicking into a backwards jump that clears the magic artisan’s work tent. He lands on the other side of the canopy, buying him some distance and an obstacle from the charging soldiers. Though, several arrows rain down around him from them taking shots at him in the air. One deflects off of his shoulder pauldron, and he realizes he should have put his helmet back on, but left it sitting next to the magic devices. He’ll have to let Xyreko know so they can try to find it once they begin marching on Fort Twilight.

The grey dragon ingests the crystals as he runs towards the southern perimeter of the camp. He has to avoid several more patrols and rallied soldiers looking for him. The camp is a swarm of angered soldiers, all trying to find the intruder.

Should have just resorted to this from the beginning. I broke my horns off for nothing, it seems.

He reaches the southern perimeter, beginning immediately on placing the anchor glyphs. He needs to conserve his mana, since he has only a handful of standard crystals worth, but he’ll be able to complete the three sides. It’s unlikely the general has had time to process that he’s the specific one being boxed in, since Daniel and his team will be arriving soon.

Choul places the last anchor position just as the soldiers discover him, calling for each other. Thankfully, none of them seem capable of keeping up with him, making it easy for him to lose them. Once the anchor is placed, he steps outside of the wall, casting the spell. He can feel most of the mana he just reclaimed drain from his body, but he is able to summon another massive wall, closing in the south side of the invading main camp.

As long as he can close in the north side as well, then anyone trying to flee will have to do so through the front, where Daniel is closing in. It’s still unlikely the leadership of the invasion have processed that they’re being trapped, since the siege hasn’t even begun yet. But, he has to move quickly. The walls are humongous and imposing, making it clear to everyone for a long way off what’s going on, especially now that the second wall is established.

Choul takes a breath, lowering into a ready position. He can hear the soldiers drawing near to his current position, some of them calling out, “Where is the elf! We need her!”

He’s still trying to conserve his mana, so he’ll need to rely on his physical strength in a form other than his human form.

He murmurs to himself with amusement, “My Liege, I do appreciate this chance to challenge myself in new ways.”

With that, Choul digs his posture deep, launching himself over the crowd of soldiers racing towards him with their weapons drawn. He lands in a forward roll, breaking into a sprint. He is bounding in massive steps, since his speed is too high to make short steps. He also doesn’t have the time to turn sharply and navigate the shelters.

As he’s cruising through the air in one such large bound, he panics a little when he sees a pair of personnel, a human and a gatonine, walking briskly together with messenger bags. Choul manages to twist his body to change his direction just enough, but it throws off his landing, and he slams into the ground tumbling through the tent past the two as they yelp in panic. They look through the demolished canvas, and Choul springs out of the twisted fabric and poles. “Pardon me!” He jumps out of the ruined pavilion, continuing on his bounding rush towards the northern perimeter.

He is able to reach it, sliding to a stop on his knees as he catches his breath, quickly placing the magic glyph as he pants heavily. It’s easy to forget, as a dragon, how exhausting crossing great distances on foot can be. It takes very little magic to aid in flying, and even then, his wings are likely the strongest limbs on his body in his true form, and if flying correctly, doesn’t require continuous exertion.

Choul wearily climbs to his feet, panting as he jogs to the additional positions he chooses to make sure he gets the proper spacing for summoning.

At the last point, he leans against a tree, casting the last glyph as he coughs, panting heavily.

“Noted, my Liege. I need to exercise more. To think I allowed myself to get like this.”

Choul then uses the last of his renewed mana, which had built up a little more as the crystals dissolve in his stomach and diffuse their mana into him. He casts the summoning spell, summoning another section of wall towering over the camp and restricting escape. He notices fire erupt on the western front, and the heat of the flames could only be a dragon.

Or, two dragons, specifically. And perhaps a tiny feldrok girl.

As he rests against the tree, something he heard during the last few minutes sticks in his mind.

Who is this elf, and why should ‘she’ matter?

***