Malam flicked her white hair back as she inspected the air above her. Her mouth open, she took deep breathes and tasted the cool air. This part of the hold, the highest part had the thickest energies. Anassa stood near a workshop as the dwarves inside worked away. They had gotten used to the Goddess of Hatred walking around the hold by now, and no one so much as turned their head when she walked in. They kept beating their ingots away with bronze hammers as Malam looked up at the ceiling of smoothed-stone.

This Southern Hold really did raise question after question. First, she tasted Worldbreaking in the air, and now a flood of magical energies. It was as if a ley-line node above her had burst. She would honestly have assumed it was something to do with Anassa, but there wasn’t a hint of sorcery in the flavour of that magical flood. It was more akin… Malam didn’t bother to hide the confusion that had smeared itself over her face, the dwarves would not ask her questions anyway.

The energies tasted of… of Elassa.

It had been a three-hour flight from Nanbasa to Aittyopios. Then from Aittyopios to cold and snowy Norje was a full twelve hours. Then from Norje into Doschia was two more. Some people hated flying, Iliyal thought little of it. He didn’t like needing to sit down for so long, but patience was a skill every soldier had to develop. He had merely raced through different scenarios in his mind as he planned on how to handle this situation, then changed from the disguise, a simple t-shirt and shorts, to his military uniform. It would attract looks, but it didn’t matter at this point, Epa should be safe enough from assassins, and he had brought his gun and his sword just in case.

Finding Wissel in Doschia was not difficult. Iliyal went to Doschia’s capital, Neustadt. A grand sprawling city, although not particularly tall. It didn’t have the towering skyscrapers of Nanbasa, instead most of the residential buildings capped out at six-floors, their steep roofs lined with tiles of a pleasant orange colour. Every few streets, a church, a cathedral, a palace, a tower, a museum or some other magnificent work of art would breach the city’s canopy of orange like a loan tree in a jungle that surged past all its neighbours. The Konigreichbundministerium, Iliyal was always amused at the fact that Doschians seemed allergic to having words with space in them, was easy to find. It’s massive bulbous dome of copper, topped off with a spike, was almost twice as tall as the surrounding buildings.

Iliyal took a bus to the Kingdom Ministry. There wasn’t much need for secrecy here, everyone would know he had come to Doschia by the end of the day anyway, and it was largely to sniff out the general attitude of the population. He sat opposite a young couple, who pretended not to stare at him. He would attract looks though, elves usually did, and elves in military uniforms even more so. “Is there something on me?” He asked. The young couple, both blonde, awkwardly shook their heads. “I thought there was.” Iliyal made his tone light as he looked at them.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen an elf on the bus.” The woman said quietly.

“Most of us prefer private transport.” Iliyal said. The man leaned forwards, leaned on the table between them, and looked at Iliyal again.

“Sorry but the accent.” He said. “Where are you from?” Iliyal merely smiled.

“Erdely.” Iliyal had planned this out too, just in case anyone questioned him. “Although it’s been a long time.” He shrugged. “Before your great-grandparents, easily.”

“Wow.” The man made an impressed face as Iliyal took the chance to ask his own question.

“I came to see what was going on Neustadt with the… situation that’s been going on.” It was an easy conversational trick. Everyone would know what he was referring to, but he wouldn’t give his own views away on it and steer the conversation down some path.

“It’s exciting.” The man said, his smile bright.

“It’s a bit scary.” The woman added. She put her hand over her stomach, most likely with child then.

“Do you think we’ll win?” Iliyal said.

This time, the woman answered first. “I’m sure of it.”

“We have to.” The man said. There we go, Iliyal knew that sort of tone, when someone started rolling with whatever they were saying. “But King Ellenheim is correct. We just came out of the worst recession in recent history and the Pantheon did what? They ask us to go put another embargo on Kirinyaa? For what?”

“Kirinyaa isn’t one of Doschia’s trading partners.” Iliyal lightly pushed back on it. He saw other people on the bus looking at them as the man raised his tone. From the other side of the aisle, an old fellow leaned in, his head balding.

“It’s the principle of it.” He said. “We embargo Kirinyaa today, we’ll be sending troops tomorrow. Who wants Doschians dying in Arika?”

“Agree to that.” Iliyal leaned back as the whole bus started talking. Each person adding their opinion on why it was so correct that Doschia led Epa out of the Pantheon’s grip. Naturally they would say that, they were all Doschian after all. It was a good gauge though, not a single person on the bus so much as uttered a single word against Wissel Ellenheim. The most negative opinions were those that warned of the dangers a war with the Pantheon could bring, but even then, they were all framed as necessary dangers.

Iliyal let the various passengers talk amongst themselves as he silently listened in on the conversation. This was a good sign. This sort of anti-Pantheon sentiment could be exploited in the future, Wissel may have taken the first step in the race against the Pantheon, but first steps rarely mattered. The winner was the man who crossed the finish line first and Iliyal would make sure that everyone knew it was him who led Epa to victory.

The bus stopped a short walk away from the Konigreichbundministerium. Iliyal quickly crossed the distance as he watched the main road. It had been blocked off today, to make way for a battalion of tanks driving down it on parade. They were heading for the Rilian front apparently. Iliyal watched them, slightly bigger than Kassandora’s Lynx-Models, the edges of the turret more pronounced, the barrel slightly longer. Sending them to Rilia was a mistake, the mountainous terrain of that land would destroy them, they should be sent to Epa instead whereas Rilia should the lighter vehicles.

He did not stay to watch the whole parade, there was no reason to. Instead, Iliyal got to the magnificent building that held Doschia’s parliament. The dome was made of pure copper, he could still remember it being perfectly clear, but now it was a pleasing blue. The carved walls, with a set of pillars by every window to hold up the floors above, which extended past the walls of the ground floor, were works of art in themselves, every brick decorated with the artisanry only masters could do. The doors were huge and wooden, with reinforced beams of steel running across them. Those were only for show though, it was obvious from the way the wood was mounted that this structure, no matter how grand it was, was not fortified. And before those grand doors, stood six guards.

Tall men, obviously chosen for their aesthetics over anything else. Men who were so tall they could almost look an elf in the eye usually made for parade-corps and the like, rather than real battlefield soldiers. They stood in grey suits, rifles slung across their backs and gazes cold as they looked at the approaching elf. Iliyal maintained his cool glare as he strode towards the doors.

For a moment, he thought they would actually let him through. It wouldn’t be suprising, he was dressed as if he was ready for a meeting with the king, and elves usually could stride into any building without any hassle. Humans usually assumed that if an elf was about, there was an important job to be done and that they should simply stay out of the way. Mages and sorcerers got the same privilieges. But the guards did share anxious looks between each other, some of them shifted, one of them fiddled with the rifle slung across his back.

Then one of them, a young man whose confidence visibly wavered under Iliyal’s sharp gaze, stepped forward. “This is the Konigreichbundministerium,” the guard began, his tone overly formal. “Entry without invitation is forbidden.”

“I have an important message.” Iliyal said, he pulled out Kassandora’s stamp from his pocket and showed it to the man. The guard looked at it, looked at Iliyal and obviously did not know what he was looking at. What had the world come to? Where even armed guards would not recognise the sigil of the Goddess of War? It was akin to a herbalist not recognizing an acorn. “Do you know what this is?” Iliyal simply had to ask.

The lead guard frowned, squinting. “No,” he admitted cautiously. The hesitation in his tone betrayed both ignorance and a growing unease. The other guards shifted nervously, their earlier confidence bleeding away.

“It’s the symbol of Goddess Kassandora, you should remember it.” He saw eyebrows rise in surprise at the mention of Kassandora’s name. “And that I have an important message for Ellenheim.” It was a calculated move, to drop the king’s surname without usually the honorific. The guards caught onto it, and they gave the exact sort of reaction Iliyal wanted them to as he spoke. “It’s about your independence war, and its urgent, I have not come to be made to wait.”

“Of course.” The guard who stopped Iliyal said. “Of course, if Goddess Ka-Kassandora…” He looked at the elf, then turned around. “Follow me.” That was unprofessional though, a guard who let in strangers before confirming their identity would have never been assigned the post in Iliyal’s armies, but then he doubted anyone would ever have the guts to lie about being in the employment of Kassandora.

So Iliyal followed the guard in. He didn’t even have to give his weapons up. The guard led him through a grand hall, up carpeted stairs, past plastered walls that held portraits of the Ellenheim royal family, and through corridors. He stopped at a door. “The king is in a meeting-“ Iliyal ignored the guard and opened the wooden door. He did not come here to be made to wait for meetings to finish.

And he was recognised immediately. King Wissel Ellenheim with his bright eyes and carved face, sat there, in a suit, and with a small band of silver as a crown, surrounded by his ministers, all in dark suits. Every single one of them looked tired, with rings under their eyes. “Iliyal Tremali!” Wissel exclaimed, there was no a single sliver of warmth in his voice, no matter how boisterous his gesticulation was. “What a surprise it is to host you! You should have sent notice!” The message, no matter how politely the human phrased it, was clear: What are you doing here?

“I think you realise why I have arrived.” Iliyal said. Wissel and the rest of his ministers merely looked at him. No, they did not in fact realise why he was here. “You are losing the war. Fortia has landed in Rilia, Maisara has entered Lubska, you will not be able to repel either without me.” Iliyal doubted he himself would be able to repel them without a major Divine on each front to counter the Goddesses of Peace and Order in the first place, but these men would not realise the strength of Divinity in combat anyway. “I have come to lend my assistance in managing the two fronts.” He could see from the reactions, but they obviously did not think too highly of him. As much as he hated doing it, it was time to name-drop. “Goddess Kassandora, of War.” He made to include the title this time. “Sent me, she agrees with the sentiment.”

The ministers shared looks between each other, Wissel joined in too, before he went back to looking at Iliyal. “Are you serious?” The King asked.

“I am.” Iliyal replied, he supposed there should be something more said than just Hello! Can I have military control? “I apologize for the intrusion, but we only finalized our own defence of Kirinyaa yesterday, I arrived as quickly as I could.”

“We are not losing.” One of the ministers said. Iliyal blinked in stunned surprise. Sometimes, he really did hate bureaucrats and politicians.

“Are you not?” The elf asked.

“We-“ The minister started and Wissel Ellenheim, in all his royal majesty, interrupted the man.

“Iliyal Tremali.” The man began as he readjusted the cuffs on his suit. “Whereas I appreciate your thought, and you are welcome to stay in Neustadt, I can personally provide you with a place to stay of course, we prefer for Epa to fight the war alone.”

“I do not think you realise what you are going up against.” Iliyal said flatly.

“Then it is our mistake to make.” Wissel replied. “We could use your advice, but we are in no need for generals.” Iliyal stared at the man.

“May I ask why?” The elf asked with all the politeness he could muster.

“Epa needs its own fighting men and its own generals, for the future.” Wissel replied with a tone just as sour as the elf’s and Iliyal sighed. The man was good, Iliyal had to admit. That reasoning, he could not argue with, if Epa relied on him, then Epa would have no one to counter Kassandora and Arascus. Just because the Coalition declared opposition to the Pantheon did not mean they declared allegiance to the God of Pride.

“I understand.” Iliyal said. There was nothing to gain from being rude, and the man was obviously set in his way. “I wish you luck then. Send a letter to Kassandora if you need me.” Iliyal bowed, turned, and left. There was nothing to argue about frankly.

The elf stepped out into the carpeted corridor and grit his teeth in annoyance. This sort of reason was exactly why he hated politicians. The only ones who were good were those who knew that every job they could do, there existed someone who could do it better. Ultimately though, he had come across this problem in the past. Kings and rulers rarely wanted to give up command of their levies when forces were marshalled. This situation was foreseen though, the long flights had given him more than enough time to prepare a contingency scenario, he would solve today’s issue in the same way he solved it a thousand years ago.

There were multiple ways to deal with this, he could spend a month in Neustadt, worming his way into Ellenheim’s good graces and convincing the man how useful he was, or he could do something better. If the politicians did not want to give up command of their forces directly, then he would simply skip the politicians. They may think themselves leaders of great armies, but that didn’t matter, what mattered is who is the soldiers listened to. And rarely did they ever listen to the king in the capital over the general on the field. The Epan generals would listen, he knew they would.

Because he very well may be the only mortal in the world that they actually respected.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep