“How dare you… Do you know who I am?!” Rudolf yelled, his voice taut with indignation. “I am the son of Marquis Blitzen! I was born a noble from the Fifth Heaven! You dare capture me, you low-born tyrant—”
“Oh, look at this!” Burn interjected with a throaty chuckle as one of Dirk’s men, garbed in the heavy armor of his knights, presented the second White Dwarf, just unearthed from the junior fleet admiral’s private ship. The figure's helmet glinted menacingly in the dim light, a stinging contrast to Rudolf’s blustering.
Burn immediately cradled the weapon like a precious treasure, finally touching and examining it up close. “Another White Dwarf! How delightful!”
Thaddeus frowned, his visage tightening.
After losing one of those formidable planet-destroying weapons, he had been racking his brain for a strategy to recover it. Yet here was Rudolf, unwittingly tossing another weapon into the mix, all while getting himself captured.
“Caliburn Pendragon, what is the meaning of this?” Thaddeus sharply asked, his voice a deep rumble, cloaked in wariness yet tinged with frustration.
Letting his junior concoct a solution had been quite the miscalculation. Asking for the return of the lost weapon? How quaint. They were dealing with a tyrant, a man infamous for single-handedly decimating the first wave of the Alliance’s troops.
He should’ve known.
“Oh, please,” Burn mocked, his voice a deep, teasing growl. “Didn’t you lose a White Dwarf to a gaggle of mercenaries intent on claiming my life? And now you have the gall to send your little junior on a retrieval mission?”
Thaddeus had reservations about Rudolf personally descending to reclaim the weapon, especially given the young man's hubris. Nonetheless, the lad had insisted he could engage in a discussion with the tyrant—always the optimist.
The senior admiral had to acknowledge Rudolf’s audacity suited a mission like this, coupled with his knack for discerning what others wanted. Yet, it seemed the tyrant’s shamelessness outstripped even Rudolf’s.
The demands the tyrant made might’ve been so outrageous that not even the Alliance could possibly meet them.
“What do you want?” Thaddeus asked, his tone a simmering cauldron of fury.
Burn shrugged with an air of unconcern. “There’s nothing you can provide that could possibly intrigue me. It was you who lost the weapon, after all. Why are you so surprised that I have zero intention of returning it?”
“Well, yes, it wasn’t exactly a heartfelt handoff from you to me, but still, you lost it, I found it. Seems fair enough, wouldn’t you agree? And let’s not forget it was meant to terminate me,” Burn remarked, handing the weapon back to one of Dirk’s lackeys. “You asked what I want? Isn’t it clear?”
Thaddeus opened his mouth to unleash a retort but was interrupted by Mahkato stepping forward, her presence radiating an unsettling calm.
“I understand now,” she said. “It seems our fleet misplaced the treasure we so generously entrusted to them, and it conveniently found its way into your hands.”
Thaddeus bowed his head, a statue of defeat. This was the epitome of disastrous outcomes, and he knew his days were numbered as soon as this video transmission cut off. Mahkato’s reputation for benevolence was well-known, yet she was notoriously difficult to manage.
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“You may keep the weapon. It’s not as if we’re running low on such trinkets,” Mahkato said suddenly, leaving Thaddeus and the others in stunned silence.
“Lady Mahkato—”
She raised a hand, silencing him. “But my dear barbarian, might I inquire about your grand design behind detaining our admiral and conducting a raid on his personal vessel?”
Her words dripped with menace, and it was a threat laden with substance—a far cry from mere bluster. Sure, he took the weapon they’d lost, but detaining an officer of the Alliance who’d come to negotiate? Bold move.
“Oh, this guy?” Burn chuckled, a humorless spark in his eyes. “Well, it seems he thought he could wreak havoc on this world with the shiny trinket he brought the moment I refused to return the first one you misplaced.”
At that, Rudolf’s expression morphed, his eyes bugging out like someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Shame, anger, and a dash of arrogance flickered across his face. “It was you who rejected the Alliance’s generous offer! I suggested helping you conquer the land, and you—!”
“Do I look like I need help?” Burn shot back, his tone so cold it could freeze fire.
Mahkato couldn’t help but marvel. This man harbored an unwavering belief in his own invincibility. Surviving the White Dwarf’s assault? Apparently, that was enough to elevate him to godhood in his own mind, inflating his ego to grandiose proportions.
But alas, even with such formidable power, he was merely a frog perched at the bottom of his own well, oblivious to the vastness outside.
“But it seems you really don’t care about this world, do you?” Burn said, a hint of mockery lacing his words. “After all, what could possibly captivate the minds of people like you in this barbarian’s realm? And let’s be honest, you wouldn’t have bothered with a world-destroying weapon like the White Dwarf if your intention was merely to set up shop here.”
There were two deliciously pointed implications in Burn’s words. First, he understood that there was something the outsider desired in this world and, cunningly, he didn’t plan to reveal that he knew it was Morgan. It was far more entertaining to appear curious, to feign ignorance about their true intentions.
Second, the deployment of not one but two White Dwarfs made it abundantly clear just how much they valued this little planet. Burn was all too aware of its significance.
The very presence of that world-destroyer was proof that their ambitions weren’t merely about claiming dominion—oh no—they were prepared to obliterate this place if their grand designs went awry.
They were understandably cautious about the source of power they sought, yet the allure of it was evidently too intoxicating to resist. This world existed merely as a pop-up in the larger saga, but Rudolf Blitzen appeared blissfully unaware of his supporting role.
“Nonsense!” Rudolf howled, his indignation ricocheting off the walls. “Even if I were remotely tempted to raze this world to the ground, it’s obvious it’s doomed anyway! These backward peasants—how dare they question the great Alliance and capture me, the illustrious offspring of Marquis Blitzen!”
Yet here stood Burn, an audacious thorn in their grandiose plans, someone with enough audacity to challenge the universe’s most formidable army.
He unsheathed his sword. “You waltzed into my peaceful little backyard, and even after I silenced your ramblings once, you think to try again? Clearly, you’ve not grasped the concept of ‘lesson learned.’”
Rudolf’s bravado crumbled as Burn strode down the steps of his throne platform, black sword gleaming ominously. “No… no! You can’t be serious! I am Rudolf Blitzen! My father is—”
Burn lifted his sword high, intent on delivering justice personally. But just as the blade descended—
“Enough!”
Mahkato’s voice sliced through the tension.
“Return the fleet admiral to us, and we’ll bury this little incident. You can keep the White Dwarf you scavenged, but I insist you return the one you pilfered from his personal vessel,” she concluded.
Burn stopped, sword still poised for a performance only he could appreciate. Not just yet, it seemed.
“Junior Fleet Admiral Rudolf Blitzen shall have his title and duties stripped. He was never sanctioned to threaten or harm the tranquil world of Nethermere; he simply overstepped, wielding his status like a blunt instrument,” Mahkato stated, locking her gaze onto Burn’s, undeterred.
Continuing, she added with a smirk, “Surely this should tickle your righteous anger enough to satisfy, my dear barbarian?”