Three hours after the fall of County Hillock, Tomorrow’s Developments’ transport plane arrived at the outskirts of the city. As medical operators disembarked to carry the wounded and critically injured aboard, Tomorrow’s Developments withdrew completely from County Hillock.

Horn coughed, covering her mouth as she swallowed the blood rising in her throat. Her gaze remained fixed on the smoke-shrouded city below. Once aboard the plane, the cries and pleas for help could no longer be heard. Now that the Tara people had seized control, the Victorians who had failed to escape became the targets of their fury. In just a few short hours, casualties mounted at an appalling rate. Most were publicly hanged, while others were beaten or kicked to death by enraged crowds.

A handful of Victorians hid in bunkers or secret basements, clinging to the hope that the Tara army would only use County Hillock as a temporary stop to replenish supplies before moving on.

Horn saw it all with her own eyes. She saw the elation on the faces of the Tara residents who had finally taken revenge. She saw Victorian children witnessing their fathers’ brutal deaths and their mothers’ humiliation, the light of hope and survival slowly fading from their eyes.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Horn told herself. Yet from the perspective of the Tara people, the reasons were all too clear.

The consequences of this war were unbearably cruel. Horn drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She needed rest, real rest, before she could stand again.

After several hours of flight, the transport plane landed on the deck of the Venus. Medical operators escorted the wounded off first, where Folinic, Perfumer, and the rest of the medical team were already waiting to provide support.

Horn and Bagpipe accompanied their team members toward the medical ward.

Hellagur led the remaining operators off the plane. With the mission complete, they were granted roughly ten days of leave to rest as they pleased. Before that, however, an important meeting awaited them.

As the Venus slowly turned toward Kazimierz, a conference on the current situation in Victoria began in the largest meeting room on the core floor.

The meeting was jointly chaired by Mountain and Hellagur, a fact that surprised several senior officers. They were accustomed to Loughshinny presiding over such gatherings. Seeing him seated calmly among the higher ranks, they exchanged cautious glances before quickly looking away.

“Tomorrow’s Developments,” Mountain began evenly, “the topic of this meeting is Victoria. It may very well determine our future strategic direction. General Hellagur and I will serve as chairpersons.”

A map of Victoria appeared on the massive screen. Three colors divided the land: one for the north, one for the south, and a third marking Londinium at the center.

“The situation is clear,” Mountain continued. “The southern forces consist of Tara nobles. Their overall strength is not exceptional compared to the rest of Victoria, but they are unified. Their leader, Earl Warwick, has consolidated the Tara nobility and seeks to reclaim lost territories so the Tara people may once again become masters of Victoria.”

“In the north, the Victorian nobles are stronger individually, but deeply distrustful of one another. They are unlikely to fight as a single force and may be defeated piecemeal. Even so, we must remain cautious. Several of these nobles possess battleships. If the Tara army advances recklessly, they may suffer severe losses.”

“The final force occupies the heart of Londinium: the Military Commission. Led by Regent Theresis and supported by loyal Sarkaz, they have leveraged Londinium’s industrial capacity to make significant advances in equipment and technology. It is estimated that they currently possess at least one battleship equipped with heavy artillery and missiles.”

“Of these three factions, the Victorian nobility is the most adept at exploiting opportunities. His Highness had already made contact with several nobles before these events unfolded. They have all pledged their support for future expansion into the main battlefield, should it become necessary.”

The names of these nobles were familiar to the senior staff. In addition to Duke Windermere, there were several marquises and barons closely aligned with him. Though their power paled in comparison to the duke’s, their territories could serve as branch strongholds or grain depots in future operations.

Notably, Duke Windermere’s only daughter, Delphine, sat in the front row, diligently recording the meeting minutes.

“The leader of the Tara nobles, Earl Warwick, previously expressed interest in making contact with Tomorrow’s Developments,” Hellagur said after a brief pause. “However, given the devastation inflicted after the Tara army entered County Hillock, we chose to withdraw. Although remaining would likely have been the optimal choice, I deemed the risk too great, considering that many of our operators are Victorians.”

These Victorians included not only Horn and Bagpipe, but also staff members who had originally belonged to the County Hillock branch, as well as Jane, who had delivered food to the County Hillock outpost. If they were discovered by the Tara army as Victorians, retaliation would be inevitable, regardless of the consequences.

“We have received no news from the Military Commission so far. The Sarkaz within the Commission have chosen to isolate themselves, and we currently have no way of assessing their true strength or technological level. In the coming months, we may launch a reconnaissance mission into Londinium, but the risk will be extremely high. We hope all operators will treat this mission with the utmost caution.”

Mountain nodded slightly. “Victoria has now fallen into a three-way conflict. All sides are fighting for control of Victoria itself, which ultimately means fighting for the throne. In truth, only two races are qualified to hold the throne of Victoria.”

“Draco, and Aslan.”

A smiling woman wreathed in violet flames appeared on the screen. The room fell silent as everyone stared at her in shock. Her horns were unnaturally long and impossible to ignore.

“Her name is Eblana, a Draco,” Mountain continued. “She engaged our operators in combat within the underground waterways. She is an officer among the Tara noble forces. Our current speculation is that Earl Warwick and the other nobles operate openly, while Eblana works from the shadows, deliberately lowering the guard of the Victorian nobles.”

The meeting room remained quiet for a long moment.

Loughshinny, seated beside Felix, pressed her lips together and slowly looked up at the older sister who had once sent her to her teacher and lover. Several years had passed since they last met. She looked no different from before, still young, still ambitious.

Siege remained silent. The former members of the Glasgow Gang behind her regarded the woman on the screen as nothing more than another mission target. To this day, Siege had never revealed her identity to her companions. They did not know who she truly was, nor the weight she carried. She had once believed she could escape her fate, if only for a while, but now fate had begun to close in, leaving her nowhere to run.

“At present, there is only one known Draco active in Victoria,” Hellagur said. “Even if the Tara nobles are ultimately defeated by the Victorian nobles, Eblana’s influence over Victoria cannot be ignored.”

“But—”

Hellagur deliberately paused, his gaze shifting to Felix. Felix gave a slight nod, then turned toward Loughshinny beside him. She let out a soft sigh, her fingers interlacing with his, as though drawing strength from the contact.

Loughshinny stood up.

She smiled gently at Felix before stepping to the center of the room.

“My race is not the Vouivre people often speak of.”

As soon as she finished speaking, faint golden flames flickered around her body. They were warm and tranquil, carrying a sense of yearning, as if exhaustion and hidden wounds alike would be soothed and erased by their glow.

She turned and smiled at Felix. “Eblana is my sister, and my race is Draco.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

It was the first time the operators and players had seen Loughshinny use Originium Arts, or what the Draco referred to as their innate flames. They were gentle, golden flames, like a rain of light, naturally evoking thoughts of her smile and the kindness within her heart.

What shocked everyone most was her identity. A Draco, and Eblana’s sister. The implications alone were enough to set countless thoughts racing. Why reveal this now?

“As a Draco, I have no attachment to Victoria’s throne,” Loughshinny said softly. “To me, the future is home, and everyone here is my friend. That is something I do not wish to lose. But at the same time, as a Draco, it is my responsibility to lead others forward. I intend to honor that responsibility in the near future.”

This was not a declaration of departure from Tomorrow’s Development, nor a proclamation of entering the struggle for the throne. Yet it clearly signaled that Loughshinny would be involved in Victoria’s affairs as a Draco from this point onward. For Tomorrow’s Development, this was undoubtedly good news. For Victoria, perhaps not.

“Me too. I’m a Draco.”

Under Alina’s smiling gaze, Talulah also stood.

She walked to Loughshinny’s side. In an instant, black and crimson flames surged around her, sending a chill through many of the operators and players present. But what truly stunned them was not the flames, but her words.

Until now, many had assumed Talulah’s fire was merely the result of her status as an Infected, allowing her to wield flames without a staff or catalyst. Now she had given them the truth.

Her race was Draco.

“I have something to say that is much like what Loughshinny has said,” Talulah continued. “I am unfamiliar with Victoria, and I have no desire to become involved in its affairs. But I am Draco. This is a responsibility my race cannot escape, and I will not turn away from it.”

Dressed in her military uniform, Talulah spoke with commanding presence, exuding the bearing of a heroic general.

The operators were utterly stunned. What was happening? A rare race that should have been little more than legend, one that was nearly impossible to encounter on this land, had suddenly produced three individuals in a single day. And by their own words, all of them were qualified to become monarchs of Victoria. At this point, even if an Aslan appeared next, no one would be surprised.

Felix smiled as he looked at the two women standing at the center of the hall. Loughshinny’s gaze was gentle, while Talulah glared back with barely concealed irritation. She had been pushed onto the stage without knowing any of this beforehand.

His eyes then shifted toward the action team seated below.

Siege slowly raised her head. She felt Felix’s encouraging gaze settle on her.

That single look reminded her of her teacher, Gawain, and of the goals she had pursued day and night in the training grounds.

Her vision shifted from her mentor, Gawain, to the Sankta man who carried an angelic presence. He walked ahead, not alone, but surrounded by many who shared his ideals. He stopped, turned back, and extended his hand, inviting her to follow.

“…Truly dazzling.”

Under the shocked stares of the Glasgow Gang members, Siege stood up, strode forward, and took her place at the center of the meeting.

She felt Loughshinny’s encouraging gaze and drew a steady breath.

“My codename is Siege. My true name is Alexandrina Vina Victoria. My race is Aslan, and from this moment on, I will no longer hide.”

Boom!

Like a thunderclap, the revelation slammed into the room. The Glasgow Gang members looked as if their minds had shattered, mouths agape wide enough to fit a fist. Operators rose to their feet, and the players erupted into chaos.

What the hell was happening? All the candidates for Victoria’s throne had appeared at once, and every single one of them belonged to Tomorrow’s Development?

“No, wait, four kings. Did you forget the final scene of the 3.0 PV?”

“You mean the four flames and a sword?”

“Yeah. Eblana’s flame is purple, Loughshinny’s is gold, Talulah’s is black and red, and the King of Dawn’s flame is blue. As for the last one, Siege should be the sword, right?”

“Damn it, does this actually line up? Does that mean the main storyline of 3.0 is Battle for Azeroth… no, Battle for Victoria?”

“It feels like it, but the final outcome still depends on how the King of Dawn sets the stage.”

The conference room buzzed with noise and speculation until Felix stepped onto the stage. As he became the center of attention, the uproar gradually died down.

“From this point forward, Victoria’s policies will be discussed with the participation of the three candidates for the throne.”

“As for Victoria’s future, it will be decided by its people.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep