Lord Remont's numb fingers dug into the snow, and he dragged himself another few feet. When the dragon fell, and he experienced the resulting tremors, Remont realized the Cult of the Circle failed. This age would persist. The enlightened races continued to reign.

It's not fair. I didn't do anything wrong, it's not my fault!

It's Lady Elin's and Sir Walter's fault! Who could predict them? And that bitch! When I get my hands on her, she'll beg! She'll weep, and I will show no mercy! All of them will!

"Lord Remont?" a woman asked, "Are you in distress?"

He rolled over. A hooded woman looked down on him, dressed in the armor of the Royal Spellswords.

"Help me!" His tongue lulled in his mouth, and the sharp syllables of his words blended into mush.

"Who was that woman? Did she do this to you?"

"Yes!" Lord Remont shoved down the pain in his leg as he scrambled forward, "She's part of the Cult of the Circle! She plans to assassinate Sir Walter and Lady Elin!" He extended his hand. "Help me! We have to stop her."

"I see."

After a moment, the woman held out her hand, and Lord Remont snatched it.

,,˙ᴉɔo˥ ɟo poɥʇǝW,,

It would be a hasty attempt, but he only needed someone to move him to safety, and he could dispose of her later, as he wished. Lord Remont shuddered. The spell failed.

,,¡ᴉɔo˥ ɟo poɥʇǝW,,

"Why?!"

The assassin revealed her other hand. A thick needle stabbed through the flesh between her thumb and pointer finger. She squeezed her fingers together, and a drop of blood trickled down her forearm. "I watched your entire conversation."

Lord Remont squealed. Adrenaline numbed him to the suffering in his leg, and he scratched at the ground to escape. The snow broke away under his hands. He gained no ground.

She whispered, "You know, when I served Prince Peterby, my job was to kill people like you. Fortunately, or should I say not so much, I retired. You'll live a little while yet, but, I promise you, you'll suffer, and beg for death."

"Unconditional surrender."

General Tybalt maintained a stone facade on his face. He placed his sword on the table between himself and Prince Wilhelm. The aftermath of the dragon-slaying rested not even an hour, and the two armies propped up a tent for negotiations.

Prince Wilhelm looked down at the sword. His burnt hand curled. He overused his 'Flameberg' during the battle and required multiple sessions of healing magic to restore it.

The general realized the extent of his failure. Not only did Camp Wolf stand, but the heroes lived. Rangville, and Eovamund as a whole, stand at their mercy, or lack of it. Whatever autonomy they built would be undermined.

The only advantage the general obtained was the knowledge of Lady Elin's and Sir Walter's immense power. The Rangville Empire, despite their arsenal of enchanted weaponry, needed to grovel to survive the future.

"I accept, is what I would like to say, but," Prince Wilhelm's said, "Sir Walter has other plans."

A long silence preceded General Tybalt's response, "Executions."

"What? Don't be silly. His exact words were, 'Just let them go, I've had enough killing for one day.' Weird guy, though, I agree with him."

"What did he demand as ransom?"

"Nothing. From what little I've interacted with Sir Walter, I learned he isn't stupid. This is a gesture of good faith. He seems to care about people as a whole. He left behind a clear warning though, don't betray it or threaten Lady Elin again. Piece of advice? Obey it."

"In that case," General Tybalt nodded, "I request Sir Walter and Lady Elin visit the Rangville Empire. Our senate should see them with their own eyes."

"Bold, but fair enough. I'll pass the message along. Let me tack on one thing: I might be playing nice because Sir Walter asked me, but if you bring an army in my kingdom again, I'll end you myself. Rightfully, your head should be rolling."

"It still might, when I return home. Let me ask you this: if rogue mages summoned the wizard in Rangville instead of Wilmand, then would you have acted any differently? Could you?"

Prince Wilhelm didn't respond.

"And the bow, 'Errorless?'"

"Sir Walter's stance on the matter wasn't voiced, so we'll return it after the appropriate ransom is paid. Seems your elite, Ian, lived. Lady Elin also forwarded an interesting message, which I believe you should heed. 'I want my damn sword back.'"

Before Wilmand's army could vacate the battlefield, it required purification. Walter watched Priestess Evelyn from a distance. Some of Wilmand and Rangville soldiers approached her, kneeled, and prayed. Steely men wept at the concluding phrases, before resuming their work. The priestess performed her duties nonjudgmentally, dirty and sweaty, yet serene. Or, at least, appeared so.

Healers already attended his chest and removed the arrow. A dull throb remained, the afterskin effect of magic. Before Elin allowed him into view, she buckled up his gambeson and checked his bandages were hidden.

The living carried the dead on makeshift stretchers or piled on wagons.

How many died? How many did I personally kill? I lost count after Camp Bear. I don't even remember any of their faces, it happened so quickly. Is that for the best? Did I do the right thing? I don't know.

"Don't slump," Elin whispered, "Everyone's looking to you, at this moment."

Walter shoved aside his doubt. She's right. I revealed myself after they tried to hide me, and I followed Elin after her warnings. I have to move forward, at least. "Everyone's odd now."

"No, they're not," Elin said, "You represent... something. A better future. For better or for worse, they glorify you."

"What about you?"

"Not a chance, beloved," Elin's glanced from the corner of her eye, "I see you for what you are: a dork."

Walter grinned, "Yes, but I'm the dork you're engaged to."

"A humble price for your love."

The black dragon's bounty flushed Walter's and Elin's pockets. Technically, due to the considered impossibility of slaying it, the Adventurer's Guild did not assign a value to it. However, the fresh appraisal amount calculated high enough that officials worried. Combined with the cost of the dragon's harvested parts, some believed he might crash Letun's market.

Walter calculated the sum to fill a large chest. He wasn't sure that many gold coins existed in Letun, to begin with. Rumors circulated their extermination duties would suffer because of their wealth. The award would keep their household fully-stocked and staffed until their deaths.

Prince Wilhelm marched the army responsible for the defense of Camp Wolf to the capital, in a victory parade. Princess Roselynde and Prince Peterby remained in Letun and managed the business he left behind.

Princess Roselynde explained the situation, "Sir, excuse me, Lord Walter, the issue is the economy. We rely on a tightly controlled, timed, and seasonal exchange of goods and services. Pulling that much coin out at once, well..." She left the impending disaster to his imagination.

When Walter asked Elin her opinion on the matter, she promptly avoided it, "Oh, no, beloved. Men manage money. Fire to fire."

"Why is it, back home, I'd normally jump for joy at striking it rich, but here I just get a stomach ache?"

"Do your best!"

Once again, Walter reminded himself currency in this world did not equate to actual money. Silver coins, he learned, were little more than a commoner's ration card, but gold coins represented noblesse oblige. Each one proved a lord's ability to house and care for a bondservant. He didn't gain freedom with gold, he increased responsibilities.

Desperate for any advice at all, he asked Sister Lora.

"Well, firstly, rewards need not be coinage. You can exchange other things in their place. Most landholders would gratefully extend their land instead. Earning potential is more secure than sitting on vast sums. Furthermore, you can request non-seasonal high-value merchandise, like Lunacite or ingots, and depot them, to use or sell as needed. That should alleviate most of the Princess's concerns."

"Like magical alloys?"

"That will do."

"And secondly?" Walter asked.

"Make sure to count how many bondservants this land needs and reserve twenty or more coins for each, and one-hundred for families. I don't want to work for a poor lord because he was too naive to keep some coin on hand. And, if you're still facing monetary issues, I'll accept a bonus--"

Walter snorted.

Walter watched Elin move about their kitchen, wearing his gambeson. She hummed as she chopped meat and vegetables. Sometimes, when she caught him glancing at her bare legs, she smirked.

"Stoke the fire, please, beloved?"

"Sure, sweetheart."

Ultimately, Walter requested the Adventurer's Guild pay an arbitrary fraction of the bounty, one-fifth, and entered negotiations with Princess Roselynde regarding the other four-fifths. Relieved, she thanked him for his wisdom, and she delivered six boxes worth.

The amount hit home. One box sat open on the breakfast nook table, and the other five on the floor, since their weight might crush it.

"Should we donate one of these boxes to the temple?"

Instead of her customary I-don't-care attitude, Elin looked over her shoulder, "I'd like that. It will help many."

"I think we should pledge one of these boxes to Evelyn, too. The soldiers have a tough time at Camp Wolf, and she can use the gold for her duties. Plus, if she gets in political hot water again, she'll have some resources to fight back."

"She'll make good use of it. A wise choice."

Elin turned back to the cooking.

"Still have no idea what to do with the other four boxes. We extended the property further out beyond Letun. The Adventurer's Guild stripped the dragon of its meat and organs, but they have to slowly purchase the rest of the dragon's bones and skin over time."

Elin cleared her throat, "I see."

A devious grin stretched over Walter's face. "Something on your mind?"

"Beloved, what about furnishing the rest of our house? The pantry? Hiring bondservants?"

"Oh, now you have plans for the money?"

She spun with a scrunched face because of his tone, "Walter! Are you teasing your future wife over such a sensitive matter? How un-husbandly!"

"Hey! That's what you get for dumping this on me!" Walter's smile drooped, and he leaned back when Elin stalked forward, "What are you doing? Wait! Back up! Stop! Ack!"

For a few minutes, Elin power-tripped over the fact she made the mightiest wizard in Eovamund laugh uncontrollably from tickling.