“We’d have thought you’d have learned by now.” The emperor cast a ray of light from his fingers.

The execution of the spell was infantile—the way children would do it while pretending to be mages—yet also terrifyingly perfect. There were no spell symbols visible, no fluctuations in his magic threads, just a stream of destructive light that pierced copyettes one after the other. There also wasn’t an ounce of concern regarding casualties.

Seven copyetes and one living armor remained. All of them were aware that they couldn’t win, yet they had no intention of retreating.

Moon vows, Dallion thought. There could be no other force keeping them here.

“How many times has it been so far?” the emperor asked, while his guards managed to shred another of the slime-beings.

If Dallion wanted to, he could easily deal with the remaining living armor or even lend a hand with the common copyettes, but he chose to remain close to Abla.

Far above, massive lights filled the sky. Explosions so powerful and long-lasting that they took on the appearance of suns coming into existence. Euryale wasn’t having an easy time, either. Despite their speed, the rocket bolts had a short range of effect. In order to take out one of the rockets making their way to the capital, they had to strike their targets with extreme precision; a task only fit for a gorgon and one with high enough trait levels to hit targets at great distances. Despite her best efforts, the explosions were getting closer and closer.

“Seven, or maybe eight?” The emperor mused, then glanced up above him. “That must make this nine.”

The final living armor thrust through the air, two massive blades pointing forward.

Dallion’s instincts took over. There was no doubt in his mind that the emperor could protect himself, yet on a subconscious level he couldn’t get the image of the ruler getting skewered out of his mind.

A spiral attack spit the air, striking the massive armored suit, sending it up until it hit the domain shell. Caught between two forces, the copyette stood no chance. Alloys that were virtually unbreakable tore and twisted as the armor was flattened against the shell.

“Nine,” the emperor said. “We have to give it to them. They are stubborn.” A faint blue aura surrounded the incandescent purple glow coming from the man’s very being. Even now, Dallion found it difficult to endure.

That was the reason people viewed Emperor Tamin as an infallible deity, a step away from Moonhood. It wasn’t the strength alone, but the man’s presence itself mixed with enough music spells to entice anyone into believing what he saw fit. Minutes ago, Dallion had claimed Duchess Elazni to be the greatest music user in the empire. He was wrong. The true greatest was the emperor himself.

“You being here must mean that your declaration of war is no longer in effect?” The emperor turned towards Dallion.

Uncertainty swept through Dallion’s mind. If it came to a fight between the two of them, could he succeed? With a lot of the emperor’s artifacts destroyed, there was a chance. To the common eye, the emperor’s outfit seemed no different than before, yet any skilled mage would be able to see it was vastly inferior to what it had been before the formation of the black sphere.

I could defeat him, a voice said in the back of Dallion’s mind. Nothing was stopping him from doing just that. Abla would still be alive. Not only would Dallion still be able to form an alliance with the Tamin empire, but he would have eliminated one of the three players competing for control of the world.

“You’re right,” he said. “If it goes on, we both lose.”

“We’re glad you came to the right conclusion.” The balls of light above them kept increasing. “Annoying, isn’t it? One would have thought that they would have gotten the hint. Although, I must admit—replacing my overseers was an interesting move. I’ll have to keep it in mind for the future.”

Not to mention how it was done, Dallion told himself. Even with the copyettes’ abilities and the Order’s resources, it wouldn’t have been easy. One thing was certain—once Dallion returned to his own domain, the first thing he’d do was use the kaleidervisto to confirm that Veil and everyone within his personal realm were really who they said they were.

“So, what do we do now?” Dallion asked. “We can’t pretend this didn’t happen.”

“That is where you’re wrong. The stage is set. Just because we’ve had a few last-minute replacements is no reason to abandon the spectacle.”

As he spoke, the structure was already in the process of repairing itself. All the blood and bodies were swallowed up, as if they had never existed. With some help of music and limiting echoes, no one would ever remember that anyone had died that day. The casualties would be removed from history or given plausible explanations that had never happened.

“We’ll miss having the Elazni around, but such is life.” The emperor let off a fake sigh. “It was a mistake allowing that house to remain in the first place. Now that mistake will be rectified.”

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“And me?”

“You, dear Dallion Darude, will be the new archduke of the east—a hero of the empire, vanquisher of dragons, destroyer of nymphs, and our personal close friend.”

Dallion felt like vomiting. A few days ago, the man had ordered him killed and now he was pretending as if nothing had happened.

“And you won’t try to kill me again?” Dallion voiced the question.

“It wasn’t personal. You and Abla were aiming to do the same to us, weren’t you Abla?” The emperor glanced at the duke.

The noble couldn’t help but look away under the pressure of the emperor’s voice.

“Only one could pass through the gate, but it’s always much easier to do so when there’s only one opponent. The Order can’t be trusted and the nymph empress is unstable. While those two remain, none of us will accomplish anything. Besides—” the emperor floated up, moving closer to Dallion “—you have a lot fewer forces. If you attack us, we’ll suffer a lot, but you’ll never be able to recover.”

That proved one of the shortest negotiations that Dallion had been part of. The approach was a lot different from that of the void or the archbishop. The emperor had made a proposal, then dared Dallion to refuse it. There was no telling whether that was a provocation or the man really didn’t care.

As the explosions in the sky ceased, and the last of the copyettes were killed off, any traces of the event were completely removed. The domain shell was quickly brought down, and the city cast a mass healing spell instead. Anyone wounded or petrified was healed back to their previous state, their memories adjusted to remember nothing of this.

Metalins and bladerers filled the skies once more, as they always had, carrying flags with the imperial crest. Any trace and memory of House Elazni was quickly extinguished. According to all historical records and ancient sagas, the second empress remained, but her progeny failed to produce any male heirs, causing the house to end its existence centuries ago.

An entire new set of overseers was created from the overseer sector, taking on the role of the city’s protectors. As for the fallen imperial guards and generals—they were replaced by others that were available.

Five minutes after the end of the assassination attempt, Dallion knelt next to Abla, in front of the emperor, while Euryale took a front-row seat, in the section reserved for imperial nobles. Everything proceeded as if it had been planned for years. Only five people remembered the truth of what had happened, and none of them were inclined to share it.

“Subjects of the Tamin Empire,” the emperor said, while magic devices conveyed images and sound of the events in every settlement within his domain. “Duke Abla and Count Dallion have succeeded in destroying the dragon nest close to our borders, earning the title Dragon Killers!”

Cheers erupted, although the vast majority of people had no idea of the reason they were cheering. Most outside of the imperial capital weren’t even aware of the dragon hunt until moments ago. Now, they felt as if that had been the main topic of conversation for months.

“They have proven that we can rest at ease knowing that such heroes wouldn’t allow the empire to be threatened by enemies, be they monsters, armies, or dragons.”

Another deliberate pause took place, quickly filled with a new wave of cheers.

“For this noble deed, we are bestowing the title prince onto Abla,” the emperor continued. “From this moment on, he is second after us, and the one who will lead our troops to victory over the nymph menace.”

Good luck with that. Dallion couldn’t help but pity the duke. It was bad enough that the emperor had made sure that he remembered every detail of the recent events, but had now turned him into a potential scapegoat. The only way to avoid execution was to lead the attack against the nymphs on the front.

“As for our close friend, Dallion Darude, we are giving him the title grand archduke of the east—something he has long earned when he crushed the nymph invaders.”

Grand archduke? Dallion thought. That was a bit over the top. The people seemed to like it. Among the noises of the crowd, Dallion was able to hear his wife being showered with fake compliments from rows of high nobles in her vicinity.

“And that is far from all! While wise despite his years, we have chosen to give him a valued advisor to provide counsel when needed.”

Internally, Dallion blinked. This hadn’t been in the script. The agreement was that the ceremony would be done with quickly, and he could return to his domain. Leave it to the Tamin to sour the deal with a last-minute addition that he knew Dallion couldn’t refuse.

Gritting his teeth, Dallion forced a smile on his face.

“Another dear friend of mine,” the emperor went on. “And one with vast experience. A great spellcaster and a former archmage of the Academy.”

Adzorg? Dallion thought.

Not in a hundred years did he expect such a turn of events. It was funny how the roles were suddenly reversed. Up until recently, Dallion had used Adzorg to learn what was going on in the imperial capital. Now, the emperor was going to use him to learn what was happening in Alliance; or would have, if the old mage hadn’t made a Moon vow not to share information between them.

Don’t worry, the emperor said, using the empath voice reserved for guardians. We’ll have another good friend to take his place. We just don’t have the heart to dispose of your great-grandmother. She’s family, after all.

Of course, she is. Who better to use than her to find out about the archbishop’s plans?

Despite all the pomp and cheers of the ceremonies. The otherworlder with the glasses remained on Dallion’s mind. He couldn’t help but feel that the attack wasn’t over. The assassination had come far too close to being successful. For someone who prided himself on being able to see the future, it didn’t make sense that things would end up there. There had to be some contingency plan that was put into motion. Or was this one big distraction? Destroying the rockets was too easy, even if it was Eury doing it.

It felt weird complaining to be alive, but if Dallion had organized the attack, he would have launched a number of rockets that exceeded the bolts he had constructed. Why hadn’t the archbishop done so?

The storm before the calm, Giaccia said from Dallion’s domain. The archbishop has always operated in this fashion. He creates the impression that his plans have failed, then waits for the right moment to strike again.

A game of chess lasting centuries, Dallion thought. The question was when his next move would be and who would it be aimed against?