Chapter 10

Red Sands Desert, Asarian Kingdom Border

City of Darthar, Adventurers Guild Hall

Starvak looked at his tablet, and sighed.

He put the tablet down, and contemplated the simple message on it.

This was it. After all the shenanigans of the last couple of days, it was finally time to reveal the dungeon's - Crystal's - existence to the rest of the world.

Oh, he knew some organizations and nations had to have gotten their hands on his reports. He had faith in his colleagues, well, most of them at least, but given the abundance of guild halls and guild masters, it was unlikely, to say the least, that no one had leaked the information, whether accidentally or in exchange for a favor or a payoff. That wasn't even counting the possibility that the communication network of the guild's leadership could have been compromised, or that more conventional espionage techniques could have gotten hold of the information.

But this would make it official. This message, sent to every guild representative at every court, ruling council, or senate on the planet, would proclaim the existence of a new dungeon.

Usually, he would have preferred to wait until he had a firm presence established there, but it wasn't an option. Thanks to Elkaryos, he was fairly sure he'd have an expedition up and running before anyone else, but quite frankly hiding a newborn dungeon's existence was always tricky at best, and it was outright impossible in the current context. Darthar was too big a trade hub to have a guild expedition of the magnitude required to establish a survivable presence in the wasteland (while the dungeon would make it flourish eventually, it would still stay a deserted hellscape for a few months, depending on how proactive the local population was at terraforming the land and reclaiming the wasteland) not be put under intense scrutiny. Anything affecting the flow of trade was too vital not to investigate.

And that train of thought brought him to the next point. That in this case, withholding the information could be actively dangerous to the guild's reputation and standing. Dungeons were always an important affair, but this...This was much more than that.

'Link dungeons' they were called, dungeons that bridged the wasteland separating entire chunks of a continent, with said bridge being called a 'link'. They had always been massive hotspots for conflict and trade, but they were rare, very rare. After all, they usually happened only once or twice for every continent, depending on the size.

He sighed again, and leaned over his desk, and before he could think to stop himself, pressed the "send" button.

*****

"Mylord. We need to speak. Privately, if possible."

Duke Sarcher Duvide, minister of foreign affairs of the Eris Empire blinked, and looked over his shoulder at the man that had just tapped on it.

"Gérard! Of course, I'll be with you in a minute." He turned back towards the diplomats from the Confederacy of Elaria he had been talking with. "If you'll excuse me, duty calls I'm afraid."

A polite chorus of 'of course' came back from the elven diplomats, and Sarcher turned around, nodding towards one of the spacious balconies, before plunging into the crowd, adroitly stepping around various guests as his subordinate followed suit.

A few minutes of careful navigation (and a fair amount of deflecting conversations from courtiers and diplomats alike), they finally emerged into the cold air of the balcony, kept from the inside of the ballroom by the very complicated -and expensive- force fields at every entrance.

Well, of course, that temperature control was only a happy side effect. Although most guests at the ball would never guess it, the fields had never been meant as a display of the Eris Empire's obscene wealth and power. Instead, those fields had been designed to intercept long range spells and sniper fire, back when there were people insane enough to actually attack a high ranking member of the Empire and think they could get away with it.

Which, to be fair, some of them had. Not for long for most, but some had survived the wrath of the Empire (in one notable case such an assassin was even hired by the Empire as the First Empress' personal troubleshooter, and eventual spymaster, much to the consternation of most of her supporters and nobles at the time.).

Sarcher was unlikely to forget that however. While his post was purely bureaucratic nowadays, he had originally gotten it because of his military prowess, back when the Empire's expansion had been insured by more...practical means. Nobody would have been so crass to call it "conquest" (in the Empire at least, but nobody cared what the barbarians outside thought. Well, most of the court didn't, which was a reflection of how stupid a lot of it's members had become to Sarcher's eyes), but it had been very...pragmatic acquisitions, usually through the profligate use of firepower, whether by the Imperial Army directly, sent to 'restore the peace' or 'liberate the people', or by militaries and militias discreetly (or even sometimes openly) supported by the Empire.

He nodded to one of the guards stationed on the balcony threshold, and he nodded back, tapping on an artistically camouflaged sets of controls, and rendering the forcefield completely sound absorbent, and making it blur their image enough to make lip reading effectively impossible. Then, the guard himself stepped through the forcefield into the ball room, and took his place in the middle of the entrance, clearly signifying that it was occupied, and that anyone that wanted to go onto it would have to go through him. Meanwhile his colleague discreetly flipped the safety of her rifle off. That was almost certainly overkill, but Sarcher was old enough to have seen some of the last successful assassination attempts, and the memory of a diva spitting out a handgun and spreading his predecessor's brains over the carpet had been a vivid one, so he heartily approved of the precaution. Plus, it wouldn't be the first time some idiotic courtier, who had more family connections than brains, tried to spy on such a private meeting because they somehow thought that trying to get a secret of state would somehow enhance their status instead of sending them straight to the dungeons (sometimes after having been resurrected).

"Alright. So, what's so important you had to pull me out Gérard? For that matter, weren't you the one on watch duty back at the office? Couldn't you have sent Morgane for this?"

His subordinate -quite the handsome fellow, with short chestnut hair and a neat short boxed beard- shook his head.

"I'm sorry sir, but it was too important." He replied, dropping the formalities once they were out of earshot of the rest of the nobility and bureaucracy. "Morgane doesn't have the experience to deal with this kind of things."

Sarcher's silver eyebrow rose. He himself wasn't quite as handsome as his underling, although to be fair he was far from ugly either. However, he had deliberately adjusted his appearance to look as old and respectable as his position demanded (not that he wasn't old or respectable, but in diplomacy perception was everything). His fairly long, unbound silver hair and beard gave him the appearance everyone associated with old sages, but the scar on his face gave him a hard edge, one that had more than proven it's worth over the years, despite the critiques of pushing forward his 'violent past' as an 'intimidation tactic'.

"Well, in that case, I suppose you would better get to it."

"There's a new dungeon." Sarcher didn't even blink. "And it's a link dungeon. On the Arkan continent."

A lifetime of dissembling (and a level of skill that would have Elkaryos red with envy) allowed Sarcher to calmly take a sip from the glass he hadn't even realized he had brought out onto the balcony with him.

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

Sarcher took a pensive sip.

"Are you sure?"

The question was purely rhetorical, he knew. After all, Gérard knew him too well, and was too good at his job to interrupt him in the middle of a ball like that if he wasn't positive about his source. Especially during a court ball, where their every move would be noted and discussed at length by courtiers trying to find any angle to jam themselves into Imperial affairs and collect a few scraps of power and prestige.

"Yeah. Right on the trade route between Darthar and Erakis too."

The complex curse that Sarcher uttered would have made several courtiers faint with horror, and gotten him admiring looks from even the toughest drill instructor.

"Alright. You've had the trip from the office to here to mulch on it, what's your opinion?"

"My opinion? Things are going to go sideways, fast. For us, and everyone over there." He winced. "Gods knows a link dungeon is always trouble, but there..."

Sarcher nodded grimly. The Arkan continent had been his office's biggest worry for centuries now, which most people in the Empire would have found outright strange.

Of course, most people in the Empire wouldn't realize how...precarious the Empire's position was, and how dangerous the Arkan continent could prove out to be.

The problem was that despite what everyone thought, the Eris Empire's power resided a lot on it's technological supremacy. Yes, it had the largest military and navy in the world, period, but it also by far the most advanced. And anyone doing the math would realize that they might have the largest military in absolute numbers, but that they were very far behind a lot of nations in relative numbers to their population and -especially- territory.

This was due to the 'pragmatic acquisitions' of the Empire. A lot of the outer provinces were simply unsuitable for recruitment, due to the risk of recruiting rebels and terrorists, and the core territories had gradually turned away from their martial traditions, and fewer and fewer young Erisians enrolled in the military as result.

All of this meant that despite it's apparent invincibility, the Eris Empire was overextended. Badly. And so far the only things that had kept the house of card it's greedy corporations and bureaucrats had built from collapsing had been the Empire's reputation and technological supremacy.

Unfortunately that supremacy had become more and more uncertain. As the Empire's bureaucracy and corporations grew, it's innovativeness dropped. Bureaucrats misplaced, delayed or otherwise simply refused patents and new inventions due to sheer incompetence, corruption or out of pure refusal of change, and the larger corporations had started spending their money squashing anyone that might challenge their very profitable patents instead of spending it on developing even better technologies.

And while they went on doing that and congratulating themselves on 'incentivizing responsible progress' while protecting their own slice of the cake and damned the consequences, the rest of the world had been steadily catching up.

In particular, two nations were.

The city state of Gorromar, and -especially- the Tark Hegemony.

The city state of Gorromar had always terrified the Eris Empire. Early on, it was thought to be the single greatest threat the Empire might ever face, before the UDC came to be. That was because Gorromar predated the Empire. In fact, Gorromar predated the Great Night.

The city state of Gorromar was built on what had once been called a 'Planetary Defence Center' (PDC) of the Alcheryos Seraphin Planetary Defence Force (ASPDF) of the Gods before the Great Night.

During the Fall of Shadows, the onset of the Great Night, ASPDF-PDC Gorromar was obliterated. Or rather, it's surface installations were obliterated. Gorromar Central, the massive bunker buried a kilometer underneath the ground, survived the initial bombardment, gods knows how (Sarcher had been there and seen the crater. It was over a hundred meter deep and over 120 kilometers wide).

However, the survivor's resources were limited. They spent most of the Great Night struggling to survive (and even then only did thanks to the NLR core that provided them with mana), and had developed a quasi religious adherence to protocol and procedure during that time. Then, during the Dawn of the Flames, the God of Fire had personally came to dig them out.

Originally, at least according the scriptures, he thought they were part of one of the Great Night powers, but was pleasantly surprised to find a group of soldiers still devoutly loyal to the Gods. In thanks for their loyalty and continued service, he handed them a charter, and help them set up a self sufficient colony. That charter authorized them to freely scavenge technology from the Old World within a certain radius of their bunker, and gave them the God of Fire's personal blessing to use their military might to 'uphold order and peace' throughout the planet.

This combination of factors had made Gorromar one of the single richest nations in term of Old World technology, to a level that the Eris Empire had taken millenia to catch up with, and eventually overtake. It had also made them so ideologically stable as to be virtually frozen. They had stayed loyal during a thousand years in a failing underground fortress to a command that was most probably long dead, only to have their loyalty vindicated by a God in person, and rewarded for their steadfast devotion to their cause. This meant that unlike many nations, Gorromar had suffered virtually no internal strife, civil war or ideological upheaval that shook other empires and made them crumble. The Eris Empire itself had been born out of such an event, the fall of the Orlov Empire, 3 millenia ago. This meant that for 5 millenia, Gorromar had been steadily expanding it's technological knowledge and industry, with the occasional hiccup of course, but always from an external source, like the fall of the Saphire Kingdom. Fortunately, Gorromar had always proven very conservative, and while it's progress had been steady, it had also been slow. Which didn't stop them from ostensibly being the second most powerful nation in terms of industrial power. Most people didn't understand how a single city could achieve that, without realizing that the Gorromarian definition of a city was 'everything within our borders is part of the city of Gorromar'. As such, it was more of a continuous massive pseudo-urban sprawl that wouldn't have looked out of place on Earth, at least for it's size, similar to the Bos-Wash UIS megacity or the Paris-Bruxels-Berlin EuroFed metropolis, with over a hundred million inhabitants (compared to the billions there would have been in the Earth equivalent).

The Tark Hegemony on the other hand, was almost the complete opposite. They were young, new, energetic, and pursued scientific and technological progress like it was the holy grail. Whatever a 'grail' was. And most importantly, they were expansionist. Aggressively so. Gorromar, by comparison, was so isolationist it was almost a parody at this point.

And both of them were on the same continent.

Keeping both nations from ever becoming friendly to one another or -gods forbid- unify had been the greatest headache of his office right behind keeping his own country from trying to take even more territory and finally bite something it literally no longer had the resources to swallow, like say, the elven Confederacy of Eleria.

He sometimes regretted what he had to do to keep that from happening, but in the end he was a true patriot, and believed that whatever it's fault, the Eris Empire truly was the best hope for humanity at this point. Not to mention the fact that if he failed and the Empire suddenly started hemorageing territory like a decapitated corpse looses blood, he'd be the first one the rest of the bureaucracy would throw under the bus in their haste to cover up their own incompetence and greed.

"Yes, it's going to be a clusterfuck. One we'll have to monitor carefully. Which side discovered the dungeon?"

"The adventurers guild, but through their hall in Darthar. So the Asarians, so to speak."

Sarcher slowly nodded.

"Good, that should simplify things somewhat." He grimaced. "At least the Asarians are so full of themselves they're unlikely to immediately start courting Gorromar or Tark for technological help, and the Saphire Kingdom hates their guts so much any hope of an accomodation with them is a forlorn one. The Elkis Republic worries me however..."

Gérard nodded at his boss.

"Me too. They don't have nearly as much bad blood between them and the Saphire Kingdom, and if they somehow manage to combine Tark's innovation, Gorromar's industry, and the Saphire Kingdom's knowledge..."

Theirs eyes met, and darkened. He didn't need to finish his sentence, his superior was well aware that if that happened, the Eris Empire would get it's ass kicked so hard it would set it back by a century, at least. An emerging superpower, especially one with the Tarkian drive for innovation, would be a massive challenge. One with the Saphire Kingdom's magical knowledge ontop of that would be a disaster. And if they managed to incorporate or at least profit from Gorromar's industrial might through trade, the Eris Empire would for the first time be challenged by a power to match it. Oh, more in concept that in real capabilities, the Eris Empire was massive after all, but it wouldn't be the sole giant in the playground anymore, and that would be very, very bad news to an Empire this overextended, with many of it's outer territories begging to rebel from it's 'benevolent rule'.

It wouldn't kill the Empire, but the loss of prestige and morale would be catastrophic. It would be, by far, it's greatest setback in history.

And it was his job to see to it that it never got the chance to take place.

"Right. Well, what's your analysis? Any report from the intelligence bureau?"

Gérard laughed harshly.

"Hardly. Honestly I'd be surprised if they'll awknowledge the dungeon's existence before next year!"

Sarcher frowned. His subordinate might be exaggerating, but not by much. The problem was that the head of the Erisian Intelligence Bureau, Earl Liara Descygnes, was on...rather bad terms with him. The woman would never forgive him for having had the audacity of taking her brother's rightful place as the minister of foreign affairs when the previous holder of the title had the grace of leaving his place open, courtesy of a soul locking bullet to the head. The worst part was, her brother had been one of the best subordinates Sarcher ever had. Oh, they didn't like one another, quite the contrary, but James Descygnes was nothing if not loyal and dedicated, and he had been more than professional enough to not let personal feelings get in the way of his job. Unfortunately for Sarcher, he'd retired a decade or so ago, to go teach at a knight academy. That his sister blamed on him as well, although Sarcher was fairly sure it was pure reflex from her part rather than an actual, thought out, accusation. He would have asked James for help, but the poor bastard had left the ministry precisely because he wanted out of politics, and he didn't want to drag him into a fight with his own sibling.

Besides, he'd been steadily accumulating...interesting files and testimonies over the years. He only needed a bit more to have enough evidence to throw Liara under the bus and have the rest of the bureaucracy eat her alive.

His eyes narrowed speculatively. In fact, this situation might be perfect for such a setup, if something happened to go wrong, just enough that the bureaucracy was looking for a scapegoat, but still recoverable enough that they'd be looking for a savior as well...

There was some serious potential there, he'd have to think about it later.

"Well, we'll have to do without then. It's not like we haven't had a lot of practice these last few years after all." He chuckled, quickly followed by his subordinate. "Still, this might end up being a massive problem. Our intelligence networks have gotten better, but we don't have anywhere near the expertise, reach or resources that the bureau has." He sighed. "We'll do with what we have, of course. What do you estimate is going to happen in the near term?"

"My personal estimate is that the Asarians are going to move in in force. But probably not establish an actual military base or fortress there. I think they'll rely more on a reinforced garrison and the adventurers to deter attacks, and count on them holding off long enough for a relief force to sweep in and save the day." He turned around, and put his elbows on the rail, his back pressed against it as he looked into the ballroom. "Of course, their enemies will guess that pretty quickly." He frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think the Tarkians are going to jump into this, not openly at least. A good third of their army is deployed halfway across the planet in Trasoria, and we've had some word that some of their airships have left their anchorage for destination unknown. Gorromar is, well, Gorromar, and probably will intervene in the clusterfuck, but they won't annex the area. The big contender here will be the Elkis Republic. They know that letting the Asarians control the link not only will let a valuable asset, both as a dungeon and a trade center, slip through their hands, but also that the link is almost certainly going to be the vector for an invasion at some point. I'm not sure what they'll do though. I mean, the Patriarchs and Matriarchs have quite the reputation for being the sleaziest bastards this side of the Imperial Court, but they're not beyond just throwing their army at a problem until it goes away." He winced. "Not that it's a particularly good idea, given the ass kicking the Tarkians and Far Reach handed to them a while back."

"You'd think they would have learned their lessons."

Gérard smiled.

"It's the Elkis Republic sir. The only group of people more incapable of learning from their own mistakes is our own bureaucracy. You know as well as I do that the great families that pull the strings in the Republic's 'democracy' will never accept change pushed through defeat, to avoid losing face and prestige among their fellows. Well, not openly at any rate." He looked up into the sky. "My sources are far from reliable, but there are signs that they might have taken some lessons from the debacle in the Far Reach. Their military in particular has proven annoyingly capable of adapting, regardless of the disapproval of it's political masters."

Sarcher nodded. The Republic's military had become more and more independent from it's political backers over the years, and especially as the same patrons, who had their favorites named as generals and other highly ranked officers in return for their support, had marched them straight into completely avoidable disasters, if the inbred idiots had only listened to their own, less well born, officers. Coupled with a genuine sense of protecting the Republic from foreign aggression rather than conquering innocents, a sense that had grown after the war with the Tark Hegemony and the constant raids from the Far Reach, it had allowed the Republican Army to fully bloom into it's own. With the inbred, well born idiots safely sidelined, a solid sense of purpose and self, and a true force made out of paid professionals and volunteers instead of conscripted civilians, the Republican Army was in a position to actually challenge any other military in Arkan and have a respectable chance of winning.

"I agree. But until war is declared, their annoyingly capable, as you'd put it, officers won't be able to influence events. Or at least not in any significant way." He frowned. "We can't let either the Asarians or the Elkisians win this war. Or at least, we can't let them do it in a way that will put one in position to absorb the other."

Gérard nodded, and Sarcher continued.

"One of the things we need to do is stall as much as we can. We can't prevent the conflict from coming, but the longer we have to prepare for when it finally comes down to fire and sword, the better." He took a deep breath. "Alright, I want you to go back to the office and get our strategic team together. I want options and exit strategies for every player out there by tomorrow on my desk. Got it?"

"Yes sir!"

Sarcher watched as his subordinate bowed (although he would have vastly preferred for him to salute instead, there were appearances to respect), and stepped out of the balcony. He met the guard's inquisitive gaze, and shook his head, signaling for her to keep the forcefield as it was.

He turned back around, and looked at glittering lights of the city below, and the occasional sky scraper that dotted the skyline, at least from this angle. He couldn't stay out of the party indefinitely, but he could spare a few minutes of tranquillity to think.

After all, thousands, if not millions, would live or die by his decisions in the coming days.

*****

"Sorvur Arbrak, representative of the adventurers guild!"

Elker Umbrar, duke of the city of Asaria, regent of the great plains, shield-master of the bulwark against the wasteland, and by the grace of the Gods and the council of nobles, King Elker the 3rd of the Asarian Kingdom, watched as the chamberlain announced the arrival of the supplicant.

It was...unusual, to say the least, for the adventurers guild representative to seek out a formal audience like this. It was more usual for a discreet request for a meeting to be passed through the chancellor's office, and for him to spend a few hours of the evening with the King, behind closed doors and far away from the eyes and ears of the court.

This meant that whatever had brought him here was important.

Sorvur stepped forward, and stopped precisely at the distance etiquette demanded, before bowing. Elker waited for a second, to make sure to assert his own authority for the benefit of his courtiers (it wouldn't do for them to think he was intimidated by the representative of one of the most vital organizations to the kingdom's survival after all), before addressing the man.

"Rise, and speak, Sorvur Arbrak, representative of the adventurers guild. What brings you before me on this day?"

His deep, powerful voice resounded throughout the room, the power of his words aided by his quite heroic physique. If it impressed the representative, he showed no sign of it however as he lifted his head and met the king's gaze. Elker idly noted which courtiers gasped in outrage, and made a mental note to have them...counseled by his own loyal sycophants. There was not showing weakness, and there was being disrespectful to a very powerful organization.

"Your majesty, I come before you with most pressing, and joyous news!" The king's eyes never wavered, while he mentally widened them as he realized the edge of true joy...and anxiety in Sorvur's tone. He knew the man quite well, and it took a lot for him to be worried about anything. "It is my joy to announce to you that a new dungeon has been found on Asarian lands!"

No one moved, or even breathed, for a second in the entire room, before Elker smiled.

"That is indeed excellent news, representative Arbrak! Where is this dungeon located?"

"Your majesty, the dungeon is in the Fallen Angels ruins, between the city of Darthar and the city of Erakis."

This time, it took at least 5 seconds for anyone to dare take another breath.

"Really? That is....fascinating news, representative Arbrak. I'm sure you'll understand if I ajourn this audience for me and my court to convene on the matter? In the meantime, please, make yourself comfortable, and pass on my thanks to your masters for their missive and efforts."

"Of course, your majesty."

Sorvur nodded, and rose, before withdrawing from the chamber, never once turning his back towards the king. Elker looked at the closed door for a few moments, before calmly announcing his intention to consult the royal council, and dismissing the court. He then regally made his way into the royal wing of the palace.

"This is fucked."

"Indeed your majesty."

"We're outside the earshot of these morons and traitors Dominic, there is no need for protocol."

His bodyguard, and old adventuring friend, smiled. His scarred face and gray hair often made people think of him as nothing more than an old soldier who had been hired by the royal guard for the sole purpose of living his last days in peace, while in truth his sword skills had remained as deadly as ever, and his keen wit and agile brain had made him more than a welcome addition to Elker's personal security detail. Not to mention that his familiarity helped a great deal with the king's morale.

"Right. Well, it is indeed a truly and well fucked situation. A new dungeon is awesome. But between Darthar and Elkis? 'Asarian lands' my ass, there's a reason it's called the 'contested border region'." The old adventurer chuckled. "I wonder if they said the same thing to the Repies, or if they told them it was in their own lands as well?"

Elker chuckled at the remark. He, indeed, wouldn't put it past the guild to...carefully phrase their audience with both nations. He opened his mouth to respond when someone stepped into the hallway from a side passage, quickly followed by her bodyguard, turning away from them and continuing down.

"Elais!" Exclaimed Elker as his expression softened and he stepped forward.

His wife stopped, and turned around, smiling.

"Elker! Are you out of your audience already? That was fast!"

She met him halfway, and Elker quietly embraced her. It felt...somewhat strange sometimes. Elker himself was 2 meters tall, and looked to be built like a hero from the old stories, while his wife was only 1m80 tall, and of a much more slender build.

Yet, despite those appearances, Elais had always been the greater combatant of the two. Elker's combat skills were mediocre at best, while Elais' prowess had earned her praise from Erisian Knights and highly ranked adventurers alike.

In fact, the first time they had met, it had been precisely because of this difference in combat abilities. Elker had just gotten tackled by a great clawed lizard, and was busy getting reduced to ribbons when she had intervened. She hadn't known she was saving the crown prince, or even anyone important for that matter, she'd just seen a fellow, lower ranked adventurer stupid enough to take on such a dangerous monster one on one, and had decided to come to his rescue. He'd never forget when she'd stood above him, clad in her gleaming steel armor, with her blonde hair glistening in the sunlight like a valkyrie of old, looking down at him. It had been love at first sight. Well, for him anyway, it had taken him 4 good years of courting and adventuring to convince her to at least date him, let alone marry him! Still, he was nothing if not perseverant, he very glad that he had been in this instance, for he couldn't have imagined finding such a perfect match for him, even in his wildest dreams.

His father had tried to dissuade him from taking a commoner, no matter how respectable her background, as his wife, but he had remained steadfast in his commitment. Then Elais had caught wind of his father's pressure, challenged the king to a duel, and promptly threw him through one of the palace's castle walls. He had been more or less alright, but he had gained a certain...appreciation of his daughter-in-law's force of personality, and had wisely decided to withdraw his objections. There had been disapproval from the nobility as well, but very few dared raise them where the crown princess could hear them....And Elker was as good at manoeuvering the politics of the palace as his wife was at combat, and those that disapproved the most of his union usually suffered some terrible scandals in fairly short order.

Remarkably, very few had issues with it nowadays. And as a happy side effect, adventurers were now seen as perfectly acceptable match for members of the nobility, which had injected some fresh, (and as much as it chagrined Elker to think) competent blood into several dynasties. Given the...not complacency, as the politics of the Asarian court were a tad bit too cut throat for that, but divergence of most noble houses, that had been an appreciable boost.

"Yes honey, I'm already out. Sorvur has dropped quite the bombshell on me."

Elais looked up and rose an eyebrow.

"Oh? What kind of bombshell? Come on, I don't bite...much."

Elker smiled.

"A new dungeon has been discovered...In the Red Sands desert. Right on the border between the Republic and us."

Elais looked at him, then took a step back.

"Ah. Let me guess, you were on your way to convene the council?" Elker nodded. "Alright then, let's not waste any time." She started walking down the hallway, her husband and their respective bodyguards following suit. She grabbed an apple from a bowl in one of the tiny tables on the side of the hallway, and bit onto it, and chewed pensively for a few seconds, before swallowing. "Remind me if I'm wrong, but doesn't everyone call that region the 'Contested border region'?"

She turned her head to look at him, and he nodded.

"Yes. It is. It's ownership has been...somewhat problematic ever since the treaty of Darthar. Deliberately so I'm afraid." He frowned. "Grandpa was one hell of a military strategist, but for the life of him he couldn't grasp the finer points of diplomacy." His wife raised an eyebrow, before grabbing another apple from a bowl (he smiled as he remembered the face of the palace chambellan when he'd instructed him to distribute fruit bowls through the hallways. Elais always had the habit of snacking on fruits when she was thinking, and had even bought a dimensional bag with conservation enchantments for that express purpose, back in their adventuring days), and throwing it at him. He adroitly caught it, and took a bite. "Short story is, when the Republic decided to squeeze Tark's balls for better trading terms -and I suspect an eventual annexation- by putting an embargo on food, Tark surprised everyone by attacking the Republic, and winning! So, deciding that Tark had no hope of winning once the Republic brought their full might to bear upon them, and that with the Republic distracted, he could snap up some more territory in the process, and force them to back off of Tark and kill two birds with one stone by creating an enemy behind their back, he launched the invasion of Darthar."

"Ah. I see. But why the border then?"

"Well, that's pretty simple. At the time, he was thinking in terms of completely taking control of the trade routes and the oasis town of Erakis." He laughed as he saw his wife's disbelieving stare. "Remember, at the time no one had heard of sand krakens in the wastelands here! Heck, no one had even mounted a serious expedition into the Lost Sands yet." He winced as he saw his wife's expression darken. He probably shouldn't have said that, given that her brother had taken part in such an expedition...and never came back. "In any case, at the time it seemed like an ambitious, but doable project, especially by a commander of his caliber."

He purposefully choose not to mention the fact that he had a sneaking suspicion there hadn't been sand krakens in the wasteland up until his grandfather had started planning for his cross-wasteland expedition, and that someone very powerful had decided they really didn't want the Asarian Kingdom growing this powerful. He still had no idea who it was, but he had serious suspicions on the Saphire Kingdom and it's pet archmages. Although given the resources involved in doing something like that (and the potential consequences if it was ever found out), he doubted it would have been without help.

"Alright. So he set the border to be purposefully vague to engineer a dispute and create a casus belli?"

Elker nodded.

"Yes. That was his plan. Well, that's what his diary said, and what he explained to me." He shrugged. "Honestly, I never really cared. It created some annoying diplomatic correspondence from time to time, but that was about it. And by the time I came on the throne, the Republic had firmly politicized the issue, and getting it resolved without caving in to their demands would have been impossible."

He winced in sync with his wife. They both had an accute understanding of the Kingdom's...problems. Notably, that caving in to another nation, especially such an historical rival and enemy as the Republic, would have almost certainly resulted in a civil war. Not a big one perhaps, but the unrest would have still considerably weakened their rule.

He sighed.

"In any case, this is...problematical. The vague border means that the Republic can argue -and as much as I hate to admit it, with serious justification- that the dungeon belongs to them. In fact, I'll be astonished if they don't make a move to grab it early on." He sighed. "And the link thus created between our nations will at last make grandpa's dreams a possibility. The problem is that it works both ways. And we aren't the same kingdom grandpa had."

Elais nodded grimly .That much was an understatement. The problem was that his grandfather, Vorkan the 1st, had gotten the throne by overthrowing his incompetent, weak uncle during a civil war, and reunified the kingdom under a single banner. His charisma, and undeniable strategic genius (and the adoration of his troops, which made the army virtually incorruptible) had either rallied the nobles to his cause or effectively cowed them into supporting him. He had been able to push for an incredible amount of reforms with little to no resistance, and had once again established a more or less permanent Royal Army core, that didn't answer to any noble, and instead swore fealty directly to the royal family. This force, the Asarian Capital Force (ACF), had since served his descendants well in crushing rebellions and keeping the ever more greedy and seditious nobles at bay, who dreamed of days past where the nobility effectively pulled the strings, using whoever was on the throne as a mere puppet. Or outright declaring independence and ruling their own pocket kingdom.

Elker looked up as they arrived at the entrance to the council chamber, with the two members of the palace guard flanking the door.

"Well, we're here. I'll convene everyone immediately, if they aren't already there." He smiled, and so did she. There was a low chance of that, given that his declaration in the throne room probably had made it's way all around the city by now, given the frantic gossiping of the courtiers. "In any case, let's start working on this."

He grabbed her hand, and side by side, they opened the door and stepped into the council room.

*****

"ATTENTION! HEGEMON ON DECK!" Bellowed the sergeant-at-arms.

Everyone in the situation room started standing up, before Aria Esteris, Hegemon of the Tark Hegemony, waved them back down.

"Please everyone, we've been over this. I work for a living." A few chuckles resonated through the room as everyone smiled and went back to what they were doing, and Aria smiled.

The situation room (some people called it "the Pit", but usually only in times of war) was a massive cubical room buried under the Tark Hegemony Joint Forces High Command complex. It was the central nervous system of the entire Hegemony's military apparatus, and served as a command center for it's high commander and strategic council. The room itself had apparently been built according to the detailed description of the extradimensional "UISN Cheyenne Strategic Command situation room", and if that was the case, then Aria had to admit that if nothing else, the extradimensionals knew how to design to impress. The situation room was a massive 16m cube, with a gigantic map of the world on a wall opposite of the entrance, as well as stacked layers of consoles manned by over a hundred soldiers and officers, all of them taking calls, discussing, or giving orders. Above it all was a set of catwalks leading to a command platform set in the middle of the room (vertically and horizontally), that let the high commander and their immediate subordinates overview the general chaos of the room.

"Ma'am, we have an urgent-"

Maria, Aria's secretary, stopped as the hegemon lifted a hand to stop her, and calmly accepted a mug coffee from the soldier on her right. She took it, and downed it in a single go, before handing it back to the private, who simply went back to refill it.

"Alright, now you can talk. What is it Maria?"

The secretary looked completely lost for a second, and Aria had to stop herself from laughing. The poor girl had been a political attache and secretary in the ministry of state of the Tark Hegemony for over a decade now, and nothing had prepared her for the eccentric ex-high commander that had won the Hegemon elections by a landslide a year ago, and that she had gotten the honor of being her secretary for a few weeks now. She was still getting used to her very energetic, and somewhat unhinged charge, which was a stark contrast to the generally calm and composed bureaucrats she was used to working with.

At long last however, Maria reasserted herself.

"Uh, right! We have an urgent dispatch from the adventurers guild! Their representative sought an audience with you, but due to your busy schedule preferred sending a dispatch instead."

Aria took -without looking- the second mug from the soldier, and met her secretary's gaze. She stayed that way for a few seconds, before tilting her head.

"Aaaaand?"

"Oh, uh, sorry! The dispatch is right here."

Aria sighed as she took the heavily decorated envelope from her secretary's outstretched hand. Her old aide de camp wouldn't have wasted time on any of this nonsense, unless it was specifically noted as for her yes only, he would have had it memorized and would have summarized it immediately without a single prompt. It was a shame that she had to let him go, but the lad was brilliant, and the skyfleet needed good officers. And the civil service was understandably nervous about the military sidelining them, and completely taking over. Aria had no intention whatshowever of doing that (she hated paperwork, if the pencil pushers wanted to take care of it for her, she was delighted to leave them exactly where they were), but they didn't knew that, and if a somewhat subpar secretary was their price, then so be it.

The hegemon weighted the envelope, eyed it, handed her still untouched mug of coffee back to the soldier next to her. She then held her hand open behind her, where her bodyguard -who had been with her since....her first actual battle, 150 years ago- obediently slid a knife. Aria ignored Maria as she gasped at her bodyguard so casually handing her a weapon, and slit the envelope open with an expert hand, before dumping it's content into her waiting hand and handing the empty piece of paper back to the secretary, who stared at it for a second before taking the hint and grabbing it. The guard, on the other hand, took the knife back as smoothly as she had given it.

Aria suppressed an eyeroll, and with a flick of the wrist, unfurled the single sheet of paper that the envelope had carried. She read it, then read it again, before handing it over to her secretary. She sighed.

"Well. Fuck." She raised her head -and her voice-, and shouted towards the catwalk suspended above the floor of the massive command center "Saratoga!"

"Yeah?" Said the current hegemony high commander, her pink crystal (literally in her case, as her hair was a naturally growing, flexible crystal lattice) hair reflecting the light like diamonds as she leaned over the catwalk's guardrail. "What's up?"

Some people would have taken offense, particularly when they ruled over 80 million souls, to be adressed like that, but Aria didn't mind. Not only did she hate court protocol, but she also had known Saratoga (who was from an extradimensional descended family, hence her strange name) since the academy, and regularly shared her bed (which had been no end of trouble with military regulations back when she hadn't officially been a civilian by being elected hegemon).

"Convene the strategic council, will you? Oh, and get me an update on Willfire."

"Sure. But the com blackout started 3 hours ago, so we won't hear from him for a least a day."

"Right. Fuck. Well, we'll do without. Alright, here's the gist of it-"

"Excuse me milady, but is that prudent?"

For a second, Aria literally didn't realize someone had interrupted her, then it took her another full second to process that one of her subordinates had in fact, interrupted her. And in the last and third second, she processed the fact that her secretary was the one to interrupt her.

Said secretary was looking at her like she was a wyrm about to eat her whole.

"I-I'm sorry if it's presemptuous of me, b-but isn't this a highly classified matter of state? A-And this is hardly a secure o-or private area."

Aria's appreciation of her secretary clicked up a notch. Not many people had the balls to even explain themselves under her "what-the-fuck-did-you-just-say-maggot?" stare. She clicked her tongue, and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing.

"Alright. Let me explain to you some things. Do you know where we are?"

"O-Of course! We are in the situation room, where the strategy of our entire military is enacted on!"

"Good. And said room is 300 meters under the ground, with, what, 18 levels of armed checkpoints between it and the surface? Not counting the 3 layers of defensive perimeters around it, all of which are manned by the Hegemony Guard and which require extensive checks before being able to pass through."

Not mentioning a full company of said Hegemony Guards on stand by in case anything happened, she thought.

"So, my dear Maria, I somewhat doubt that a spy could sneak up in here."

"But, the soldiers aren't cleared for this information!"

Aria facepalmed. She started having serious doubt if this girl was meant as an insult to her or not. They couldn't possibly have dared recommended putting someone this oblivious to such an important post. Sure, the girl was a wizard at managing her schedule and paperwork, but don't they understand the basic of never, ever criticizing your superior or subordinates in front of their troops?

"Maria, these soldiers are the very people that are going to take and distribute the orders to do something about said information. Everyone in this room is here because of their devotion to the hegemony and for being the best we have in terms of strategic analysis. Even if we didn't tell them, they would figure it out regardless. And beyond that, before I took this job, I held my war councils in this very room for, what? The past 30 years? Haven't had a single information leak in all that time. Not a one. Not at the height of the Solkor incident or the Far Reach campaign. And let me tell you, some of the information we discussed here, on that very platform" She pointed at the catwalk and the suspended command platform above the room. "Was far, far more sensitive than this. Is that understood?"

"Y-Yes ma'am."

Aria sighed as she recognized the signs of someone on the verge of tears, but trying very hard to not appear to be, in her secretary's expression, and put her hands on Maria's shoulders.

"Look, I'm not tearing you a new one, but this is stuff that you should know. Yes, I'm no longer the high commander, but I am still the supreme commander of the whole of the Hegemony's military. Navy, skyfleet, army, everything. Plus, all of the people I'm used to asking advice for planning, including to conceive policies that my predecessor acted upon, are here. Well, most of them anyway. This is the nerve center of our military." Her eyes darkened. "And given the content of the message, I'm afraid it will soon become the nerve center of our government."

Maria looked at her in confusion, before horror dawned on her face. Aria slowly nodded.

"Yes, war is coming. Now, is everything understood?"

Maria gulped, and nodded, and the hegemon smiled, satisfied.

"Excellent, now, Saratoga, as I was saying..."

*****

"...so that's our full analysis. To summarize, our forces are too dispersed to contemplate a successful offensive campaign against the Elkis Republic at this time. Of course, a lot of parameters in this analysis depend on the success of Willfire's operation."

Aria leaned back in her seat. She was currently sitting on the command platform of the situation room, along with most of the strategic council. The council was more or less the entire senior leadership of the Hegemony's various military branches. There was William Matthews, the sky admiral of the Tark Hegemony Skyfleet, Sorian O'Connor, general of the Tark Hegemony Army, and Elizabeth Thorton, high admiral of the Tark Hegemony Navy, in addition of Saratoga and her own second in command, a serious looking blonde by the name of James Sterling. In the past, there used to be a great deal more civilians (meaning more than the hegemon), and a lot less military people sitting on that council. Unfortunately, ever since the Elkis Republic had decided that they were going to starve Tark until they caved in to what basically amounted to an annexation, the Hegemony's (well, the Directorate's, since the Tark Directorate had not yet been reformed into the Tark Hegemony) military had become completely and utterly vital to it's continued survival, and the well being of it's people.

"Right. Any comments anyone?"

"Yes, I would like to add something, if I may?"

Aria graciously nodded, despite cringing internally. Elizabeth was the high admiral of the navy, and in her fairer moments, Aria had to admit that she was a phenomenal admiral and administrator. Unfortunately, she was a navy officer from the old school, one of which hadn't taken well the switch of focus from the Navy to the Army due to the ongoing cold (and far too often hot) war with the Elkis Republic. In fact, she seemed to be constitutionally incapable to realize that the Army was now indubitably the senior service, and that no amount of trying to make them seem incompetent would change that. In fact, her interference was starting to border on outright obstruction, and thus, treason.

"Thank you hegemon. Despite the fact that a full third of our troops and skyfleet ships are currently engaged in Willfire's campaign, only a single squadron of our heavy cruisers has been sent for that campaign. As such, we still retain 5 such squadrons -a full 30, heavily armed, long range ships- at our disposal, and all of our 6 Behemoth class dreadnoughts remain in port. Although, as we all know, only 3 would be available for offensive operations. Nevertheless, that is a consequential amount of firepower, one that could easily overpower the Republican Navy, and would allow us to put considerable amounts of military pressure on them."

Aria sighed.

"Elizabeth, we've been over this. The reason why the Republic has a navy that is barely worthy of the name is because they have no anchorages or ports worthy of their names either. The few ports worth a damn they had we took in the first war, and they aren't insane enough to develop those on the southern coast now that we've firmly established our dominance of the sea. And those on the western coast are fairly recent, and haven't had near enough time to develop into anything important. And that's not even counting the fact that we'd have to pass by Seaside 9 to get to the west coast to begin with!"

The high admiral winced. Seaside 9, whose name was simply because it was the 9th seaside Old World installation discovered by exploration teams that wasn't named on a map, back in the day where the WMC was in charge of exploration (and thus made horribly generic names for everything), was part of what some people called the 'triangle of death', which was composed of the Lost Sands, Seaside 9, and The Western Shallows, as the trio of Old World ruins that were absolute suicide to attempt to approach. To be fair, Seaside 9, as far as the others went, was much less deadly, and the deformed abominations that sprung from it had a tendency to be land bound rather than capable of operating in water. Still, it did make crossing the southern edge of the continent's coastal waters hazardous to say the least, and given the fact that anyone leaving coastal waters would have to deal with the much more dangerous krakens, ultralodons and doomwhales (to name a few), it was still the safer option. Since Tark was firmly on the west coast, accessing the east coast was going to be a rather more problematic undertaking than what her high admiral was suggesting.

"Point taken. Still, it is something to keep in mind."

Aria curtly nodded, and then raised an eyebrow and looked around the table. William, the sky admiral, leaned forward.

"I do have another question. What about the Asarians? I know we're not exactly the best friends in the universe, but we did sell them a squadron of water bound light cruisers a few years back, and we've maintained trade links for a while now. We could align with them."

Aria shook her head.

"The Asarians are barely capable of keeping their own kingdom together. I don't want to get embroiled in their internal politics. Plus, you know that they would be too greedy to accept a joint ownership of the dungeon and the link. At this point the only thing we'd be doing is replaced the Republic with another, more dangerous foe. And despite their instability, they might just reunify just for the purpose of conquering us." She almost snarled. "They do seem to have no problems, either with each other or their own conscience, when it's about lining their pockets."

William opened his mouth, then closed it as he saw Saratoga's discreet shake of her head. Unlike the sky admiral, the high commander has known Aria for a long time, and she was more than conscious that her hatred of everything Asarian ran deep. Very deep. It was inevitable, as an ex-Asarian slave, who had escaped to Tark with her father...but whose mother hadn't survived the trip. Very few people actually knew that about her (Tark's laws about freed slave being iron clad in erasing any trace of their previous bondage to prevent other nations from targetting them), but those that did and knew her well couldn't miss the bitter hatred in her eyes whenever the Asarian Kingdom came up. In fact, the only thing keeping her from leading the fleet to personally burn down the Asarian slave trading port of Sunrise (the largest slave trading hub on the planet, thanks to the city's massive teleporter and docks) was her overwhelming sense of duty to her nation, and the people that had elected her to the post of hegemon. She was simply too conscious of her duty to them to use her post to pursue a personal vendetta.

Saratoga's opinion was that it was very fortunate that her friend and lover was unable to reach the Asarian slave trading ports, because she had seen the hegemon's handiwork before. Aria was kindhearted and sympathetic to her fellow countryman and subordinates, but a stone cold psychopath to her enemies. And any outsider who wasn't her ally, really. The last thing they needed was to cover up another of her...slip ups. Very bloody slip ups.

Which made her seriously doubt if she was the right woman for such a conflict. And what would happen if this war became as vicious as she feared.