Shortly after the brutal battle, the Vyssians were gathered at the wrecked Rhankish camp. Normally, the men would be rejoicing as winning against the Rhanks in a pitched battle would garner great prestige, but right now, they were too busy being silent and at awe.

Suddenly, the Vyssian crowd was parted when a group of armored drones pushed through the humans. Of course, when the men knew who was coming through, they respectfully made way. It was Smith and his entourage, headed straight for the center of the crowd.

When Smith finally got through the wall of sweaty, tired men, he came upon the object of everyone’s interest - the tall, overly-imposing bull-headed daedelus, Minos. The two drones nodded at each other before Smith turned to the leaders of the Vyssians.

The leader, a familiar tall man with red graying beard, took off his helmet, revealing none other than the famous Vyssian warlord Old Man Wick, Eoforwic. He saluted towards the two drones by tapping his chest with his own axe before raising it. “Greetings, mighty warlord and…” Eoforwic looked at Minos before continuing, “warrior. I am Eoforwic fal Sea’axfeared, a friend of your kin who is an honorary member of Sea’axfeared, Sir Weaver.”

Smith nodded and replied, “I know. We know. I am Smith. A leader. This one is named Minos. Also a leader.”

“My apologies, warlord. I didn’t know you were also a commander,” Eoforwic told Minos who simply waved the apology off without a word. “Anyway, it was quite a bit of a rush, but we didn’t really properly meet.”

It was true. When Minos and his army left to reinforce Castle Marcoir, it was a thane drone that met up with Eoforwic. Meanwhile, Smith was busy hiding in the castle as the battle raged on.

With his introduction out of the way, Eoforwic finally turned to the elephant in the room. He turned to a fully armored Rhankish knight who was draped in yellow cloth and chainmail. It was clear that she was an important Rhankish noble, but why did she betrayed her own people?

“Greetings, Rhank. May I know who you are?” Eoforwic asked.

The Rhankish noble took off her helmet and greeted in Vyssian, “I am Princess Imma. Royal princess of Rhankia.”

“W-What?”

Out of nowhere, a horseman arrived. “Alert! Alert! Rhankish riders are coming your way!”

The Vyssian warriors, who were either busy looting the place or staring at the large minotaur-like drone, started panicking. Warlords assembled their men, and the wounded Vyssians even got up to prepare to die honorably.

“What is the meaning of this?” Eoforwic asked as he put on his helmet.

“Lord Eoforwic!” the messenger gasped as he rode closer. “I’ve come to report that there was a large band of Rhankish horsemen headed this way, all of them were wearing heavy armor and yellow cloth.”

“What? Like that?” Eoforwic stood aside while pointing at Princess Imma and her bodyguards.

“Yes, like that Rhankish woma-... Wait! That’s it! That’s them! There’s a lot less of them, but yes! Those are the Rhankish horsemen!”

All of the Vyssian warriors grunted and groaned in annoyance as they realized it was just a false alarm. Even Eoforwic had a displeased face when he realized he wasn’t going to be fighting again. “Bah! Don’t be slow next time! The battle was already over a while ago!” Eoforwic spat.

“Sorry, lord! It’s just that we had to deal with some Rhankish riders trying to stop us, so sending someone to you took a while,” the messenger explained.

Eoforwic turned to Imma with a raised eyebrow. “What say you, princess? Where in Purgatory did you come from?”

“Sea’ax, of course. Where else would I be able to maintain diplomatic contact with the Varangians?” Imma replied.

“Why wasn’t I told of this?” Eoforwic asked Imma, but turned to look at the drones.

Smith shrugged in complete disinterest. On the other hand, Imma stepped in to answer, “Please understand, lord. It was in our best interest. We were actually negotiating a deal to stop Varangian raids along the Rhankish border, especially now that a new searing has been called. This is the only region where the war between us is still raging, you know?”

“True. You Rhanks were already negotiating with us, but I didn’t expect you to negotiate separately with the Varangians,” Eoforwic sighed.

“They are their own people, still,” Imma pointed out.

“Just to be clear,” Eoforwic turned his attention to Smith. “The Varangians are still going to defend this hold from Rhankish incursion, aye?”

Smith nodded. “Indeed.”

“You’re not going to sell the castle back, aye?”

“What if we are?”

“Lad, that’s not what our people agreed on.”

“We agreed to protect this region. Weaver has analyzed our deal and concluded that this isn’t breaking the deal,” Smith remarked.

“But how will you bloody defend this place without a castle to turn your back to?” Eoforwic asked.

“Vyssian named Eoforwic,” Smith called out. “Who says we won’t have a castle to hold against the Rhanks? If you come with us once you are done here, perhaps you will understand?”

Eoforwic knitted his brows and stared at Smith with doubt, but moments later, he gave a defeated sigh. “I don’t exactly think you Varangians would break your deal without a word… not after knowing you lots for this long. So, very well. Take me to wherever the bloody Purgatory you have to take me to.”

Smith shook his head and said, “We still have business with the Rhank named Imma.”

“Right,” Imma sighed.

Imma and Smith entered the siege camp’s main command tent. Rhankish knights were scouring the tents for answers, but none of them had anything conclusive.

“So, what do you know?” Imma asked Alleigh, her sword-oath.

Alleigh looked down, dejected and sorrowful. “My apologies, princess. We only have some evidence that the counts had conspired the entire thing.”

“And Duke Villbrod?”

“We… still don’t know. There’s nothing here that would suggest that Villbrod ordered this.”

Imma clenched her fist as she bit her teeth together. “How could this be?! Aren’t most of the commanders subordinated to Duke Villbrod?!”

“Nay, Your Highness. Some are. But most of the nobles that took part in the battle are from the northern and north-western regions. If our sources are correct, most of the duke’s closest subordinates are still defending Western Rhankia along with the Royal Army.”

Imma clutched her head with one hand and massaged her temples. “Damnable politics! Father will be displeased at my failure…”

“Princess…”

“No, never mind. Right now, we have business with the Varangians. I want everyone but Alleigh to leave the tent immediately,” Imma ordered.

“Yes, Your Highness,” her bodyguards replied.

“While you’re at it, interrogate the nobles. See what they know,” Imma commanded.

“At once, Your Highness!”

Imma sat down on a chair while Alleigh stood behind her. Opposite of her, however, Smith remained standing. The young princess wasn’t sure if this was part of Varangia etiquette or not, so it took her some deliberation before she decided to offer Smith a seat.

“What?” Smith asked.

“Please sit.”

“Oh.” Smith sat down on the floor, which befuddled the princess.

After coughing, Imma began the discussion, “Before we start, may I ask if you are acting with the authority of Lord Weaver?”

“What?” Smith asked.

“D-... Do you even have the authority to talk to me about this? I mean, would Lord Weaver mind?”

“I am equal rank to him, so yes,” Smith said.

“Ah. I see. That’s… interesting. Is Minos… the… large person outside also equal rank to Lord Weaver?” Imma asked.

“Yes.”

Imma nodded, half-satisfied, half-confused. “So, about the deal we made…”

“We agreed on time period eleven-fifty-eight, location grid-...” Smith suddenly stopped as he jolted up. Afterwards, he continued, “I- I mean. At some time ago, at the embassy in location Sea’ax Region, the Varangians and the Rhanks agreed not to attack each other.”

“Yes, that is true,” Imma said.

“We also agreed that the Varangians will hand over location Castle Marcoir and change administrative privileg-... I mean ownership of the location to the Rhanks once the transaction is completed. Is this not correct?”

“It’s correct.”

“So why did the Rhanks attack and try to take the castle without completing the payment? Was there a mistake on the payment part?” Smith asked.

“No! Humanos, no! It was our fault! I, as a representative of the Rhankish people, bear the responsibility of apologizing to the Varangian people. I also know that reparations must be made, so state your demands,” Imma replied firmly before lowering her head. Alleigh also lowered her head as she followed Imma’s lead.

“The price will be heavy, Rhank named Imma,” Smith warned.

“And the people of Rhankia will shoulder the price!”

“That is very weird. Why would you sell us your shoulders?” Smith asked.

“No, no! I mean, we are willing to accept the price!”

Smith scratched his head and muttered, “Ah.”

‘Should I really be talking to the organics instead of Weaver?’ Smith asked Custodian as it watched the negotiation.

‘Yes.’

‘Why can’t Weaver come here instead?’

‘It will take at least a day for Weaver to arrive, and I want to settle this sooner than later.’

‘Then the organics can wait for a day.’

‘No! Not while we still have the opportunity! If the princess realizes that this was just a minor annoyance to us, she might change her mind later. We must press on here!’ Weaver shouted loudly in hivespeak.

Smith sighed loudly and complained, ‘I just want to go back to manufacturing already. I am not cut out for communication and security.’

After what seemed like an eternity of silence for Imma, Smith bobbed his head up and declared, “The price for Castle Marcoir has been raised!”

“State it,” Imma requested.

“In addition to the previous price, we will be adding slightly more silver, more food, and more goods to the deal. For the exact numbers…” Smith briefed the princess on the new price of Castle Marcoir. Instead of causing the princess to be more dejected or dispirited, she became more confused.

“What? That’s it? Just a few more boxes of silver and cart-full of food? This cannot be it, right?”

Smith clapped his hand and slowly said, “Yes. This is the last demand of the Varangian people - we want to take all of your dead bodies in this place. In Marcoir. All of them.”

Imma frowned and kept her mouth agape. She wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or bad thing, and she certainly did not expect this demand. “What will you do with the bodies?”

“None of your business, Rhank named Imma. We will take all of the bodies. All of them,” Smith repeated.

“Princess, some of the bodies belong to the noble families-” Alleigh began whispering to Imma before she was interrupted.

“Traitors,” Imma corrected.

“What about the dead bodies of the commoners and serjents? They would be greatly displeased if-”

“All for the good of peace. Their families will understand, I'm sure of that. If they could return the honor of Rhankia with their corpses, so be it,” Imma explained. "The bodies are all yours, Varangian.”