"You want to conquer the other three empires before the devils arrive?"
"I want to crush their leadership and absorb their armies. And we start with Milfheim."
"Your wife’s territory."
"My mother-in-law’s territory," Kane corrected, his eyes glowing with that familiar blue interface light.
"She has been looking for an excuse to invade my borders anyway. We beat her to the punch. You lend me a wing of your pegasus riders, and I will hand you the keys to her fortress in a month."
Sylvara stared at him for a long time, weighing the sheer audacity of his plan against the terrifying prophecy of her most trusted Seer.
"Take his chains off," Sylvara finally ordered, not breaking eye contact.
Aeloria gasped.
"Your Majesty!"
"Take them off!"
The guards hesitated for a split second before stepping forward and unlocking the Moon-Silver cuffs. The heavy metal hit the floor with a loud clang.
Kane rubbed his raw wrists, rolling his shoulders as his Warlord vitality surged back to full strength, wiping away the fatigue of the last few days.
"Welcome to the war council, Warlord," Sylvara said.
"Do not make me regret this."
"You won’t," Kane smiled, turning toward the door.
"Now, someone get me a decent meal and my armor. We have a lot of work to do."
Roast boar and spiced wine disappeared down his throat.
Kane ate with the focus of a starving wolf, ignoring the disgusted glances from the royal attendants.
Tossing a clean bone onto a silver platter, he finally wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I need my people."
Sylvara sat across the table, swirling a glass of wine.
"We will send out a messenger. But you will work here, where I can see you."
"I don’t have objections to the hospitality." Kane leaned back, picking his teeth with a splinter of wood.
"But it’s hard. I need to move to Milfheim."
"You’re going to fight them already?"
"No."
He grabbed an apple from a crystal bowl.
"I will talk to Misha. She can convince her mother to stand down."
Aeloria scoffed loudly from the corner of the room.
"The Queen of Milfheim listening to a mongrel warlord? You are delusional."
"I wasn’t talking to you, Aeloria." Kane didn’t even look at her.
"Look at the board, Sylvara. I already have Menual. With you and Milfheim on board, we already have three empires. The rest are the Beastmen and the Raviers."
"You will talk with the Beastmen?" Sylvara raised a delicate eyebrow.
"I have Kessa," Kane shot back, taking a bite of the apple.
"But yes. Once Milfheim is smoothed out, I will talk to the tribes."
"You speak as if Milfheim is already yours."
"I hold the princess."
"A hostage?"
"A wife."
Kane tossed the apple core onto a silver tray.
"And I love her, so I won’t break her heart by killing her mother. That doesn’t mean I will be submissive when the old bat tries to dictate terms. I’m offering an alliance, not my neck."
"If your little princess fails to convince her," Sylvara warned, "my pegasus riders will burn her castle to the ground."
"If it comes to that," Kane smiled, a glint in his eye, "I’ll light the match myself."
One day passed in a blur of maps and logistics.
Sweat dripped from Kane’s chin as he pushed his body off the floor for the five hundredth time.
His Warlord vitality pulsed through his veins, repairing the lingering aches from the whip.
Muscles coiled and released in perfect rhythm.
’Without those cuffs, my passive regeneration is working overtime,’ Kane analyzed, feeling the familiar rush of stamina returning to his core.
’I need to be at peak condition. You don’t negotiate with Beastmen or Raviers looking like a beaten dog.’
He flipped onto his back, transitioning into rapid core exercises.
His interface blinked, showing his strength stats ticking upward, restoring the points drained during his captivity.
Boots echoed down the grand corridor outside his royal guest quarters. The oak doors flew open, startling the elven guards stationed outside.
"Kane!"
Misha crashed into his chest before he even had a chance to stand up. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.
"You reckless idiot," she mumbled against his skin.
"Missed you too, wife," Kane laughed, wrapping one arm around her waist and spinning her around.
Thora swaggered in next, resting her halberd casually over her shoulder.
She hugged him tight, then scanned the luxurious room, then smirked at his bare, scarred chest.
"Looks like you survived the elven torture chambers. We were ready to burn this tree down to the roots."
"Keep your pyromania in check, Thora," Firlia sighed, stepping past the tall warrior. The strategist adjusted her glasses, holding a stack of ledgers.
"Though I had drawn up three different siege plans just in case."
Sira slunk in silently.
Her daggers spun lazily in her hands, her eyes darting toward the open balcony to check for snipers.
Kessa twitched her ears, sniffing the air with a wrinkled nose.
"Smells like flowers and arrogance in here. Can we leave?"
’My squad is finally here,’ Kane thought, a genuine smile breaking through his usual smirk.
’Now we can actually get to work.’
"We are staying for a bit, Kessa," Kane said, patting the beastman on the head.
"Try not to bite any nobles."
"No promises."
A sudden rush of wind blew through the balcony doors.
Feathers blacker than midnight fluttered into the room.
Grieseld descended from the sky. Her wings folded neatly behind her back as her boots touched the marble floor.
Her eyes locked onto Kane, offering a formal bow.
"The aerial scout routes are established."
Down the hall, the blind Seer suddenly gripped her wooden staff. Her unseeing eyes snapped toward Kane’s chambers, sensing the sudden shift in ambient magic.
She stepped into the doorway a moment later, her serene face tight with shock.
"You... you brought a Fallen Angel?"
Sylvara, walking right behind her Seer, froze in her tracks.
The Queen stared at Grieseld’s wings, her jaw slightly parted in rare astonishment.
"Yes." Kane gently set Misha down and turned to face the stunned Elven royalty.
He clapped his hands together, walking toward the large map table in the center of the room.
"Now that the pleasantries are out of the way. Let’s get to our plan. We have exactly ninety-eight days left."