“Princess, this is… I’m not sure what to say,” Alleigh murmured to Imma as the two Rhankish women stared at an enormous structure with architecture that seemed alien to those who were used to Rhankish and Vyssian architecture.

“Excuse me, northman. Why did the Vyssians give you a castle? I thought you’re only mercenaries!” Imma asked Slayer who was escorting them.

“Give? Why? We made this outpost,” Slayer replied.

“Made this? What? How long has this been standing?”

“A few weeks?”

“That’s a ridiculous joke,” Imma huffed.

“I do not understand. Why is it a joke?” Slayer asked.

“You’re serious?”

Slayer stopped on his track to glare at the princess, trying to understand human emotions in silence. He continued moving once he deduced that trying to understand the fleshy organics was just a waste of time.

The Varangian embassy’s gates opened once Slayer’s group was close, and the drones marched in while the Rhankish women hesitated.

“Problem? State it,” Slayer asked when he saw that the women wouldn’t enter through the gates.

“I’m sorry, give me a minute,” Imma said as she bent down. Clinging onto her leg was Agnes, who was scared stiff of the northmen. The princess ran her hand against the little girl's head and tried to assure her, “It’s okay, Agnes. They won’t hurt us.”

“I don’t… I’m sorry, I don’t want to…” Agnes stammered with pain. Her legs were restless as if she would take off to the distant hill any moment now.

“Alleigh, take Agnes and stay in Sea’ax for now,” Imma ordered.

“Princess! I cannot leave your side, especially now that we’re at the heart of the enemy’s home!” Alleigh protested.

“This is an order from the Royal Blood of Rhankia.”

Alleigh clenched her fist, then clicked her tongue. She glared at the princess, wordlessly trying to convey her anger and fear, but Imma stood firm. In the end, the sword-oath was no match for Imma’s overwhelming aura, and she took Anges off the princess’ leg.

“Northmen, could you provide an escort for them? Sea’ax isn’t too far, but it would be good to have an escort,” Imma asked.

“No,” Slayer answered promptly.

“I’ll give you another brooch.”

“Okay.” Slayer nodded and four small warrior drones began escorting Alleigh and Agnes to the city of Sea’ax.

Imma entered through the gate under the watchful gaze of the many drones guarding the fortress-like embassy. She could also feel as if the towers were also watching her somehow. The princess gulped as she examined everything within the embassy. The walls were too smooth, and everything felt arranged with methodical reason. The guards almost felt like statues, and they were placed at even spacing, as if they used tools to measure where they must all stand beforehand.

Imma was escorted into a large building, and was guided up to the third floor where she saw a woman in a white-and-red dress swinging a sword around. The blue sword she held was big, but she held it as if it weighed like a feather. Her movement looked clumsy, but it was clear she knew the techniques.

“What are you doing, Red?” Slayer asked.

“I am trying to train so that I could defend the mini-Custodian!” Red replied enthusiastically.

“Daedelus-type drones rank higher in survival priority. It is fact that mini-Custodians should sacrifice themselves for our safety, not the other way around,” Slayer said.

“R-Really? But Weaver said…”

“Follow Master Custodian’s directives. No questions,” Slayer stated.

Imma was captivated by the ‘language’ spoken by the northmen. It didn’t feel natural at all at first, but as she continued to listen to the chime-like rhythm playing back and forth between the large armored northman and the northwoman, it almost felt like music to her. She didn’t dare interrupt the conversation, and she only spoke up when both of the northmen turned to her.

“Greetings. I am Princess Imma of the Kingdom of Rhankia,” Imma introduced herself with a curtsy. “A princess is the daughter of a king, which is a leader of a group of people.”

“Yes, indeed. I am well aware of the meaning of ‘princess’ and ‘king’. Please, call me Red. I am currently the head envoy of Varangia to Vyssium,” Red introduced herself while placing the blue sword around her hip. “Forgive me if I am being rude, but are you truly a princess?”

Imma was caught off-guard. Not because of the question since she knew it was coming up sooner or later. It was because this woman, Red, was much more sophisticated and learned than the armored man. The princess had expected to have trouble conveying her intentions to the northmen, but it seemed that there wouldn’t be any problems at all.

“I can prove myself. The royal members of Rhankia keep a ring with them at all times, because it serves as proof of royalty. By transferring mana to the ring, it would shine with a green glow,” Imma explained as she took out her royal signet. She concentrated her power towards the ring, but no matter how much she tried, it didn’t work at all.

“Eh? Why doesn’t it work?” Imma muttered in confusion.

Red tilted her head and asked, “Is there any problem?”

“No! I mean… I… I don’t know why it doesn’t work!” Imma cried.

Red pretended to cough then said, “Perhaps if we-”

“Sir Weaver? Sir Weaver! Where are you? Oh ‘gatory, right. He’s gone. Lady Red? Where are you?!” a loud voice bellowed coming straight from downstairs. The drones went down to investigate while Imma nervously followed behind, still trying to make the ring work.

“Yes, Hetrick? Did Magus do something wrong?” Red asked once she saw an old Vyssian man wandering around the meeting room at the second floor.

“What? No. I just came by to tell you that I brought back information regarding the Æscren mines in Hetten. But it’s mostly rumors, and if there really is a mine in Hetten, then-... Wait. Who is that?” Hetrick cut himself off when he saw Imma thumping a ring with her fist.

“Ah, this woman claims to be Princess Imma of Rhankia. She’s trying to show me proof, but I’m not really familiar with Rhankish royalty,” Red explained which caught the attention of Imma.

“It’s true, though! I am a princess! Once this ring glows, it’ll be enough to tell that this royal signet is authentic!” Imma pointed out vehemently.

“What? I know of the royal rings. Give the ring to me,” Hetrick said as he offered his hand towards Imma.

“Why?”

“Mana is weaker around this area. If I’m right, and I’m always am, your magic level might not be high enough to power the ring. The ring only needs mana to work, right? Then my mana should be enough, right?” Hetrick explained.

After some hesitation, Imma handed the ring to the old man. Just as Hetrick had said, the ring glowed after it was injected with mana by the old Vyssian mage. Seeing the ring glow, Imma heaved a sigh of relief.

“Bloody ‘gatory. She’s right. She is the Princess of Rhankia,” Hetrick said with shock as he handed the ring back. “What are you doing here, girl?”

“It’s not girl to you, it’s ‘Your Highness’,” Imma corrected him. “Who are you anyway?”

“For a princess, you’re rather rude. Might I remind you that as a Vyssian, I only bow my head to the Iron Chancellor. Anyway, I am Master Hetrick, Head of Authority of the Hall of Orthaem.”

“Huh?! You’re an archmage?! Why are you here?!” Imma shouted while pointing at the old man.

“I asked that question first, Rhank.”

Just before any of them could get another word out, Red interjected, “Master Hetrick, can we talk about this later? The princess might have something important to say.”

“Aye. I suppose so, she did come all the way from Rhankia to here, without the Rhankish king’s knowing, I assume,” Hetrick remarked before leaving.

Just before Red could start talking to Imma, she unbuckled the blue sword off her hip and handed it to Slayer, which was the only reason he was here in the first place. In exchange, Red received Slayer’s steel longsword.

With Slayer’s departure, Red could finally focus on the Rhankish princess. “Now, then. Let us start our formal discussion. Shall we?”

“By Humanos…” a man whispered in shock as he watched a large army march through the forest. “I need to tell Count Marcoir about this…”

The Rhankish scout had been stalking around the captured Northwestern Region to gather information about the Vyssians’ movements, but he noticed that the northmen had started to move as well. As it turned out, the northmen did not use roads at all as their army would break up into smaller groups and use many different paths to get from one place to another.

The Rhankish scout found out about this when he shadowed small groups of northmen until they all converged into a forest, creating a sizeable army. He wasn’t sure what was scarier, the army of northmen or the one leading them.

At the head of the army was what the scout could only describe as a ‘large armored bull walking on two legs armed with an axe’. If his superiors heard this, would they think he had lost his mind?

Regardless, he realized that the army was heading towards Castle Marcoir. Was it to bolster the defences? Maybe. But the scout would rather bet on the fact that the northmen were preparing to attack Central Rhankia instead.

“I must- Aackk!” the scout screamed in pain as a javelin pierced through his shoulder. He attempted to take out his axe with his free hand, but the last thing he saw was a giant metal spider flying towards his face.