Day 1 after the Battle (2 proofread Irene)

Mummer had listened to Maximilian's speech unfazed. Unlike the others, he had no intention of being angry with the necromancer, even though his madness had already put Ankon's survival at risk once. He had to act like a Vanedeni and think big. No Hero had been perfect.

A few deaths would not have been enough to make him change his mind about Maximilian. The Londoner had shown them a great vision for their future, and he wanted to be part of it.

No, it wasn't the man's behavior that put him on edge, it was the person in front of him.

“Manners worthy of a prince!" the woman let out a laugh.

The Ahali woman had replied this way after he had introduced himself. She had pearly white teeth and green-golden eyes.

“I, on the other hand, am Quioiana, [Mayor] of these idiots,” she said pointing with her thumb at the other Ahalis. Then she reached out a hand towards him.

Mummer shook it. He felt the firm and sure grip of those who know what they are doing and what they have to do.

"Mayor?" he then asked.

“A particular class, for those who manage a village or a city - in my case, I am the administrator of Seiunctus. It is an elective class, so basically it was assigned to me when my people chose me as their representative. I used to be a [Politician], so as soon as I am removed from my role, I will return to that class."

The man was surprised by the sudden flow of information.

"Not a warrior, then," Mummer said, using nearly all his conversational prowess.

“Oh no, dear. Lucky for you, I never learned how to fight. I can barely hold a weapon. Otherwise you would have been doomed,” Quioiana put a hand in front of her mouth and laughed elegantly.

Mummer nodded, not quite understanding why that statement should have been funny.

He looked around and noticed that everyone, Vanedenis and Ahalis, were staring at them with bloodshot eyes.

Even Themistocles and Mibunum weren't thrilled with their ... friendly demeanour.

“Nobody is happy that we are talking. Maybe you should go back to your people before someone thinks you're a traitor of your species."

"Nobody? Oh, Mummer, dear. You are always so hot-blooded, you Vanedenis,” Quioiana leaned towards him and pointed over his shoulder.

Mummer turned just in time to see Maximilian smile, wink and raise a thumb.

“The opinion of the only person that matters is right there. Or maybe you haven't seen your dear commander and ours tied up like two pigs ready to slaughter? Am I wrong, or are all the others who have not yet accepted the new management also tied up? "

The [Weapon Master] looked around and noticed that all those who had remained hostile to the Londoner's decision were, in fact, still tied. Maximilian had said that they would stay that way until they learned to live with others.

“And if fifty years of life have taught me anything, those two”, Quioiana pointed the finger at the Athenian and the huge Ahali who stood next to him, “ are not yet ready for what this city needs."

Then she attracted Maximilian's attention with a languid gesture of her hand: "Young man, let's go for a walk, we have a city to plan!" and lightly jumped away from the table.

Mummer stood dazed for a moment, wondering what that strange woman with the grey hair and the tawny fur had in mind.

"Hurry up, I also need someone who can speak for the Vanedenis, you big hunk."

…

Mummer stood, his arms crossed, inside Maximilian's tower, the only building that had survived the battle and the necromancer’s destructive fury. Together with him were Quioiana, Maximilian and Eudokia.

“Bollocks, I hope Themistocles and Mibunum change their minds. If someone starts doing things without them, they might go crazy. They both have the Fonzie complex: they always want to be the centre of attention."

Mummer noticed a certain discomfort in the eyes of the man who was inside that young body.

Quioiana, on the other hand, thought it best to settle down on a chair, in front of a skimpy table, not paying the slightest attention to what the Londoner had just said.

The tower was still furnished with several beds, prepared in case the battle had continued for several days. As things now stood, this was also the only place where food was stored.

Quioiana took some parchment and a pen from her duffer bag and quickly started writing.

"So, Your Majesty, how long will the provisions last? How are you going to keep them from rotting? What is the plan for food production in the short term and for the long term?"

Maximilian was taken aback by the storm of questions, and Mummer saw a shiver go through his body. However, something else passed through the man who had sentenced half of Ankon and half of Seiunctus to death.

"Bollocks, we're about a thousand. The food in here would have lasted a week without your hairy asses. You rabbitmonkeys eat about one and a half times more than a normal human being. The warriors even twice more. Thus, the food will last two days with full meals, three or four with reduced rations. "

It was the first time Mummer heard the necromancer speak so seriously and practically. Who knows how long it would last.

“To store it, bollocks, we either put it up our asses, or we use simple storage Enchantments. Okay, I get it, you're monkeys, but those are the basics."

The [Weapons Master] nodded, relieved at the man's profanities. At least they suggested that he was still fine. After the battle, many had begun to fear Maximilian's silence.

“For the short term the answer is simple: we steal from larger cities. North and south of the continent. As soon as the Curtain comes down, tac, I have a system for teleportation ready and almost safe enough to transport a human being,” the necromancer said.

"A teleportation system?" the Ahali rolled her eyes.

Mummer sometimes forgot how much he had begun to take for granted the momentous feats accomplished by the huge idiot in front of them.

“Bollocks, yes. You have such big ears and still you seem deaf" was his answer.

“A system that can move people instantly in the whole continent? It must cost a fortune in terms of mana and resources! And how did you invent it? Are there any relics nearby? Was there a hidden dungeon from which you recovered the method to recreate such a technique? Is that where you also found how to create flying ships?"

Quioiana had already lost all her composure, two minutes after starting her first real conversation with the village madman.

“But what dungeon and dungeon. Look, playboy, they're all my patents. Copyright by Maximilian Clarke. And no, only mana, no magical resources. They are quite simple rituals. They could not bypass complex magical defenses created ad hoc, but no city should have any on this continent. Fortunately for you, your King is the best of the best. Eudokia, give me five!"

Maximilian turned to the woman to receive his five, which obviously did not arrive.

Eudokia had remained motionless in her silence since the battle had finished and made no sign of wanting to speak to anyone. In particular with Maximilian, to whom she reserved exclusively glacial glances.

The Londoner shrugged, turned his hand towards Mummer and then, after the big man's silent refusal, to Quioiana.

"Hit it with yours," suggested the portentous necromancer.

Quioiana tried to, but the man immediately pulled his hand back.

"Too quick for you, I'm sorry." Maximilian ran his hand through his hair and continued to explain:

“I take pigs, sheep, cattle, horses and everything we need from the big cities of the Ahalis. Then I teleport them here, with me, and have them mate and give birth. We steal only a few at the beginning."

Mummer nodded at the common sense Maximilian was showing at the moment.

“Like five or six hundred of every kind. So half reproduce and with the other half, we can cook them. "

Quioiana frowned and turned to Mummer, to understand if the Londoner was joking or not. The [Weapons Master] nodded condescendingly.

"He's not joking."

"No, I'm not joking, bollocks! Otherwise, the alternative is to make broth with the bones of the undead."

Quioiana nodded and, without hesitation, pulled a map out of her duffer bag.

“So, these are the wealthiest Ahalis settlements in the north. I would avoid the capital, which doesn't have much land for pasture. Besides, there could be individuals who are dangerous for you too. But these,” she began pointing to areas on the map, “are the cities with the largest herds of sheep and cows. And here, lots and lots of pigs. Among the Vanedenis, I believe that Brig, this one here, is the best city to steal plant seeds or sprouts."

Mummer sat down.

The eldest of the Vanedeni warriors saw the necromancer's eyes light up like [Fireballs] on a battlefield.

“Indeed, if you don't have great limits, we can easily increase the number to two thousand head of cattle per species. Two thousand pigs, two thousand horses, two thousand sheep and two thousand cows. Ah, and ten thousand chickens! And these are the basic animals. Then there are also the erkfodas. And the moonis!"

Maximilian shook his head.

"I've heard of these animals, but no one ever told me they could be bred."

“Well, that's because they're not very popular here in the south. Erkfodas are horned animals with very delicate flesh: they eat everything and survive even in the worst of climates. They are famous all over the world, but in Kome farmers use them to get rid of waste that other animals don't eat. Their stomach is able to digest even stones, given enough time."

“As for the moonis, on the other hand… I have been trying for years to get some of them, but their breeding is strictly limited to the province of Echtra, the capital. They are crustaceans that grow in lakes, including artificial ones. They keep the water clean and eat algae or small fish that we can easily get."

"Maximilian, we cannot plunder all the cities, either Vanedeni or Ahali," Mummer intervened.

“I heard that in Brig”, Quioiana interrupted him, “there are plants that can collect water from the ground in enormous quantities and that they use them there for washing, since the water is very pure and has a floral smell. They open in response to sudden noises. Imagine putting one in front of Themistocles and Mibunum when they argue."

Mummer took a step back when Maximilian threw himself across the table to embrace the woman, holding her close.

“Mummer, you have my blessing to have babies with this wonderful lady. Finally someone who knows how to appreciate my qualities, bollocks. Besides, don't consider our actions as thefts, imagine them rather as a tax."

A tax?

"A tax?" the big man immediately gave voice to his thoughts.

Quioiana, too, looked confused.

Instead, Eudokia raised the corners of her mouth, breaking her icy mask for the first time since the battle.

“A tax, as the Vanedenis always did after winning their wars. It was a famous thing, bollocks. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

Mummer felt his heart stop.

Maximilian's smile was accompanied by a magical light in his deep blue eyes, like the ocean at night under a full moon.

Mummer couldn't gather his thoughts to articulate something that made sense. It was fantastic news. It was everything the Vanedenis had ever wanted since the conflict with the Ahalis had begun.

In fact, the main reason why the [Weapon Master] felt he had to participate in the meetings called by Maximilian was to represent his people, to participate in the new civilization that was taking shape before his eyes. His goal, however, was also to restore dignity to the Vanedenis, which had been denied them since Mauser, the King of the Necromancers, had led them to a ruinous civil war.

The return of the tax was a flash of a bright past projected into an equally bright future.

When the Vanedenis were powerful and feared, the tax had been the tribute that the defeated peoples had to pay to the unbeatable warriors in order not to be wiped off the face of the planet.

The tax had been the summit of their civilization. Their incredible mobility had allowed them to impose it on everyone, even dragons. Even hydras. And even the terrible demons, whose advanced civilization had knelt in the face of their superiority.

Mummer had often fantasized about what it would be like to be part of that society, when the Vanedenis were at the top of the world, not only for the extraordinary elevation of their continent.

There had been a time when the Vanedenis had been heroes and bringers of justice. They had broken the chains of the trade in slaves and flesh (human and from other creatures, too) perpetrated by the sirens. They had brought the civilization that had tried to conquer the whole world to its knees and, to prove their superiority, they had refused to conquer the world when it was only a few centimetres from their noses.

The Vanedenis had never been interested in incorporating other states. They had a house and a history in Kome. Expanding further would have meant desecrating their homeland.

A fire broke out in Mummer's chest, one bigger than the one caused by the dragon bones that Maximilian had implanted in him to heal him.

He sensed the future — no, the past, resurfacing.

"Maximilian, do you want to re-institute the tax?" Quioiana asked. The history of the Vanedenis and the infamous tribute was known worldwide, and no wonder.

“Re-institute? Skialaer and Filaer had declared that, as long as there was at least one Vanedeni worthy of their lineage, anyone who did not pay the tribute when required would suffer the wrath of their people. Am I right?"

Mummer nodded without even realizing it, astonished that Maximilian knew so much about the history of his people.

"We take our tribute, bollocks. And if they have any complaints, let them come to me. This time we have both monkeys and beasts”, Maximilian indicated both Quioiana, who was almost as tall as Mummer, and Mummer himself.

Several moments followed in which the only Vanedeni in the tower was lost in thought. He couldn't think of much other than the implications of what had just been said.

"And, as for the long term...I have no skills to manage a nation. I am a necromancer and have many helpful spells, but I'm not a true ruler. Luckily, I plan on nominating a co-ruler. Even better: a Queen, someone who already has a very powerful ruling class. In this way, her skills will affect all the territory belonging to the new city."

“No.”

The voice came from behind them, from the only person who was left standing.

"Oh well, I'll take care of her," Maximilian said as if he hadn't heard Eudokia's answer.

Mummer moved slightly on his stool, a little too short for him. Why didn't he had made chairs for adults too, damn? Eudokia made him nervous like no one else in the city could.

Quioiana, meanwhile, wasn't scared at all. Her eyes shone and she could not wait any longer.

"Your Highness, please forgive me. Would you mind me asking you something on our dear big hunk sitting here? I think you're the one who can give me an exhaustive answer."

"Bollocks, for once someone asks in the right way. Themistocles is an uncultured swine, in comparison. He should learn from you," said the necromancer.

"Let's say I can understand people's talents. Young people normally give me a sort of positive energy, but people over fifty never give me the same feeling. So, why does our dear Vanedeni here give off energy to my intuition like a twenty-year-old hero?"

Maximilian looked up and curled his lips. Everybody knew he usually didn't answer Themistocles and liked direct questions even less. This time, though, the Londoner sighed and smiled. Maybe even the great necromancer had started his path of change.

"First, my dear old rabbit, that's no intuition, but a skill from your class, don't play silly buggers with me. Second, Mummer has such a talent because he had a problem with brittle bones and I cured him with a dragon bone transplant. Now the marrow is creating new cells that are going into his flesh. If I were to guess, I'd say the transplant will make him live two hundred years more. He's basically an elf."

Strangely, nobody reacted. The necromancer’s face paled.

"Just a second, you know what elves are, right?"

"El-what?" asked Mummer.

"Oh, please, tell me those disgusting creatures with pointy ears do not exist here."

Maximilian seemed terrified at the idea of those creatures. Mummer thought they were very dangerous enemies of his, even more fearful than dragons, judging by his extreme reaction.

"There are no creatures like humans but with pointed ears?" asked the new King with apprehension.

"No," was Eudokia's sharp answer. "And now stop mocking us with your silly stuff,"

The necromancer looked at Mummer for confirmation. He nodded and said: "Goblins have pointy ears, yes, and some other creature, too, but none are like humans."

Maximilian sighed with relief.

"Maximilian, dear, did you just say dragon bones?

She had lost all her formality and had suddenly become tense.

"Bollocks, yes. That's why you see so much talent and brought the big hunk with you." We've created Wolverine. His bones are not exactly indestructible, but all his body is more, how can I say... draconic."

"I don't think my people will accept it..." said Quioiana carefully.

"Your [Dragonslayers] wear dragon skins for pride and protection," answered Eudokia dismissively. "I don't see why they would oppose something just as barbaric. If I had to choose between making trousers out of a corpse or using its bones to cure someone, I'd say the second is more respectful. Not that any dragon wouldn't kill both Mummer and anyone who committed such a blasphemy."

Mummer had rarely heard the obsidian-haired woman speak so ferociously.

Several seconds passed before the dialogue could return to the tracks.

The first to speak was Maximilian: "All right. How do we solve the issue of houses?"

"Temporary wooden barracks for everybody. They don't even need furnishing. The Vanedenis have no problem sleeping on the floor for some nights. My people don't mind such nonsense," Mummer replied.

“Very well, big hunk. You and your people can sleep outside. We Ahalis are creatures with animal blood and our ancestors slept on the stone floor in the dragons' caves. We will easily adapt and use straw beds while Your Highness completes the wooden barracks."

"I'll take care of it," said the necromancer.

More than a hundred skeletons appeared, both human and non-human. There were too many for them to all enter the tiny room they were in. The tower was clearly being enlarged by some dimensional magic.

"Are those our warriors' corpses?" asked Quioiana, looking at some peculiar skeletons. She didn't know much about anatomy, but those proportions and joints were familiar.

"Obviously. Your King is a necromancer. “What did you expect? That I would burn the bodies? These are now going to cut down trees and create temporary barracks. I'll soon prepare an urbanistic and architectural project. We will build a lot of houses, all equal, for both Vanedenis and Ahalis."

…

Maximilian looked at Strith and felt a great doubt rise in his chest. Being very good at magic didn't make him as good with people – unless he brainwashed them.

The Londoner thought for a few seconds about the option to control the minds of all the village inhabitants, in order to avoid future problems. Then he shrugged and abandoned the idea.

"Well, bollocks, let's say it's not impossible. But I'm not sure."

The [Hero] said nothing. Too much was now resting on her shoulder and change was necessary.

"I'm sure it will work," said the girl.

The new King had to establish his first edicts. He really didn't know what to do.

Strith had come to him with a very precise request. The problem was Maximilian still didn't think of her as an adult, despite her legendary class.

And, for some strange reason, she reminded him of Penelope, his daughter. Having to make a difficult decision on something the [Hero] had asked him made him feel things he had already felt in the past.

So, now the girl in front of Maximilian was not a Hero talking to her King, but a child asking something to her father.

"Bollocks, I don't know. Once I use the potential inside your bones to lengthen and strengthen them, the change may not be reversible. Not easily, at least."

Maximilian was thinking of every option, in case he accepted the girl's request. Just like when Penelope had wanted her first piercing. Every time, drama ensued in the house.

What to do, bollocks.

Once the piercing had been done, it would be impossible to go back. Maybe the hole could be closed. Bollocks, he would have stitched his daughter's ear himself. After all, when Penelope had asked for the piercing, he had brought her to his own operating room. Never had there been a more sterile earring hole.

He had made errors in his first life, so many errors. Nonetheless, he hadn't always been a terrible father. Most of the time, yes, but not always.

But now, with Strith's green eyes piercing his souls, he didn't know how to feel.

Give be a leg with an exposed fracture and hundreds of bone shards, give me an army to lead or a magical theorem impossible to solve. But, please, don't make me deal with teens.

"Mmmh, listen."

Maximilian was not sure on how he should address the girl. Calling her by name almost felt awkward. It seemed too cold and impersonal. Yet, everything else that came to his mind would make him feel even more awkward.

"Listen, miss, those short legs are a part of you. They're not a big problem in battle. And maybe in the future you'll find a husband who loves them. There are so many kinks, nowadays. If there's people obsessed with feet, short legs won't be too much of a problem."

He hoped his speech would make the girls think or at least discourage her from pestering him. Usually, after a couple of stern no, teens stopped tormenting their parents. At least, this worked for other people's offspring, since Penelope had always done exactly what she wanted.

And sadly, Strith was just like her.

"No. I don't care if they're a part of me. I am an [Hero], Maximilian. I need to be stronger, and my body must let me become more than what I am now. I am a symbol for my people and I need something to make me feel just like that."

"Even if in the future people will admire me and not notice my short legs, I'd always know they're here. During the most important battles in my life I would wonder if any enemy will take me seriously, seeing these legs. I want longer legs, I want to be taller, I want a body that can follow my ambitions. There are no [Blood Mages] or [Flesh Mages] who can help me. I only have you. And you're my master. You owe me this, you can't refuse."

Maximilian sighed and started pacing in the tower. At times like this, he really missed his wife. Or maybe he missed Penelope. She surely would side with Strith. If there had been two girls, Maximilian would have accepted any request, even if only for fear of being harassed for months on end.

"Okay, but on two conditions, miss."

The girl almost jumped on the spot for joy.

"Anything," said Strith.

“One, let's fix your hair. They suck. We clean them and create some products to keep them nice and healthy."

The [Hero] nodded without batting an eye.

“Second, I make your legs longer, but you also begin to behave like a normal person and not like a barbarian. Being a Hero doesn't mean ruining your life. I will not be a part of any of this", Maximilian raised and lowered his hand in front of her, “if you are going to be an idiot who only thinks about work. Sleep, friends, fun. All three of these things or nothing."

Strith raised an eyebrow. He imagined that she had never thought of such things, but knowing the risks that came from a great talent, Maximilian wanted to prevent problems rather than struggle to solve them later.

“Okay.”

The necromancer motioned for her to move to a chair and brought up a mirror with a snap of his fingers.

"Let's start now, then."

The girl sat down without a word.

Maximilian created a pair of bone scissors from some residue he had in his personal dimensional pocket. Then he cut off the first strands of hair, which fell to the ground in front of Strith's stunned eyes.

"But..."

"Who said we start with the legs?"

Maximilian went to work, grabbing the ruined ends of her hair.

He stopped. He closed his eyes.

A deep breath, Max.

He had decided to opt for a pixie cut, very short, but very feminine. Androgynous, as Strith would have liked. Besides, there was no hope that the girl would care about her hair. Letting them grow would have been a losing bet from the start.

Penelope had been like that too.

The necromancer started letting his brain go on autopilot. At some point in his interminable life he had been very interested in the hairdressing profession and had learned a few tricks of the trade.

In this, however, he had something else to deal with.

He had promised Vanedenis and Ahalis that he would lead them. And he would, no doubt.

However, sometimes there was something that distracted him. The thought of Penelope and Paola seized him and he began to fantasize. Had they been transported to Kome, too? Would he ever be able to find them?

He felt a fire inside, at the very thought that the answer to these questions could be yes. He had already checked some villages and made a quick survey of the inhabitants, before disturbing Eudokia. But the Curtain, for some strange reason, had not completely disappeared and some villages were still isolated. Every now and then he thought about how easy it would be to cross the boundaries imposed by the Harbingers, but he feared the repercussions of such a gesture. His powers were not developed enough to face the punishments of such sadistic deities.

Besides, even if he found Penelope, he doubted that he could save her without terrible repercussions from the Cantos. So, it was better to wait for the conflict to end.

For some incomprehensible reason, he couldn't imagine his wife on this continent. She wasn't made for a life of battles and violence.

But who was he trying to deceive? There was no way that either of them had come into this world.

"Do you miss your wife?" Strith's words brought him back to reality. “You never shut up. When you don't speak, there is always something wrong. It is not difficult to understand."

The little woman in front of him did not raise her eyes to the mirror and continued to hold them on the ground so as not to meet his gaze.

"Very. My wife was the most important person in my life. Her existence was worth much more than mine."

“I'm sorry you're away from each other,” Strith said.

“I know my wife well enough to know she would be happy with what I'm doing. I've said too many farewells to her, so it doesn't make sense for me to regret the last one. I have one last life to live here, a real life full of heroes like you”, Maximilian winked at her as soon as she had the courage to look up.

“I thought you wanted to create some magic to return to your world. Would you be able to?"

The girl turned, almost stabbing herself in the eye with the man's scissors.

“Bollocks, stop! Don't move your head while I have in my hands a sharp magic object that could tear a hole in your skull as if it were butter!"

Strith settled back in his chair and Maximilian breathed a sigh of relief.

"Perhaps. We are talking about very powerful magic, far beyond what I am capable of and what I will be able to do in ten years. In a hundred years, maybe,” he shrugged.

“But, if I have to be honest”, he went on, “it makes no sense to keep thinking about the past. We are here, and we are in good company."

The necromancer put emphasis on the last sentence by pointing at himself.

“This world is like a real-life fairy tale for all of us, even for me. For example, Matthew always dreamed of arriving in a world like this. He thought it would solve all his problems. Although, unfortunately, I believe that his expectations have already been disappointed."

“In my case, however, I didn't think I would need such a thing. In a way, my past has been quite lonely. Now, however, next to me there are people of all kinds who can keep me company. Who doesn't want to experience a legendary adventure, and meet real heroes, huh, little one?"

Maximilian ruffled her hair, making her angry.

"Okay, are we done with this hair?" Strith asked, annoyed.

Maximilian told her to be patient and resumed cutting her hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Strith looked at his master in the reflection of the mirror with a sly look.

"I have an idea," she said.

The Londoner nodded to her. "Tell me."

“If you want to trade and at the same time find new citizens, you could advertise our village. For example, you could have magical writings appear in the sky of each city, both Ahali and Vanedeni. South and north of the Border. That way, people would know that we are open to both cultures, we wouldn't even need to say it openly."

The necromancer watched her with his mouth open.

"Dog's bollocks. You're proposing to put huge advertisements, unwanted and impossible to remove, on the head of a bunch of madmen who love to kill each other."

Maximilian doubled over, delirious with laughter.

He was glad to have found some fun and to be able to harass people for pastime. He was even happier that the idea had come from his disciple.

He exchanged a smile with her and got to work. They had a lot to do and nowhere near enough time.

…

Day 4 after the Battle

The necromancer's tower had become the headquarters for organizing anything.

Quioiana had asked Maximilian to meet him to define the last details, before starting to work for real. The King had agreed and brought Strith, the threatening-looking girl, his disciple, with him.

The Ahali was positioned in front of the usual skimpy desk, standing.

“So,” she said, spreading a map of the territory on the table, “we have to decide where to build and how to arrange the houses. I think it would be better to separate Ahalis and Vanedenis, at least in the beginning."

“Nah, we put them in different apartments in the same house. My idea is this: each house will have two apartments on one floor. In one apartment there will be a Vanedeni family, in the other an Ahali one, each with their own spaces”, declared Maximilian. "But kitchen and garden will be common spaces."

The Ahali rolled her eyes. She still didn't know the man sitting in front of her, poised between ephemeral madness and brilliant intelligence.

“Your Highness, I don't think my people will be happy, nor will the Vanedeni people. There could also be very violent clashes."

“You don't have to worry about this: the city is covered by an Enchantment which prevents everyone from engaging in direct fights. So even without my intervention, there should be no deaths. Not to mention that those who attempt murder will be executed in the most brutal way possible in front of everyone."

Quioiana saw Strith nod from the corner of her eye.

The young Vanedeni had grown about fifteen centimetres taller, almost reaching the height of the Ahali. Her extraordinary growth was Maximilian's first miracle that the [Mayor] had witnessed.

Miracles aside, however, she was not happy with the lightness with which the necromancer and his henchwoman administered the lives of the inhabitants of the new city. Unfortunately, she was forced to work closely with the two if she was to ensure a future for her people.

One way or another she would adapt.

The woman sighed. No matter how hard she tried, she already knew she couldn't get the necromancer to change his mind.

“Well, then the housing issue is settled. As soon as you decide how to build them, we will see how this coexistence goes,” Quioiana said.

Here, this was another thing that got the [Mayor] on edge. Maximilian had not yet begun construction work. In the Ahali society, no one would ever have allowed himself to be so impractical.

Speaking of problems in her society...

"Your Majesty," Quioiana began. His title was uttered without reverence or irony, but as a simple fact. “Do you know how our political system works?" the Ahali asked.

The man shook his head.

Quioiana took the opportunity to instruct him on some practices that she hoped he would adopt.

“We Ahalis elect our representatives and each of us has the right to vote in matters of the state. Then, we have a senate to guide the country through the choices that do not require the consultation of all the people. Only [Dragonslayers] seat in the Senate, and each of them has a position guaranteed by their class. "

Quioiana took a stool from the tower wall and sat on it, trying to balance her long legs with the seat, designed for people shorter than her.

The message he wanted to pass on to the necromancer was very specific.

"To be brief, I don't think many will accept this dictatorship."

"Bollocks, dictatorship?" Maximilian rolled his eyes, “What dictatorship? Everyone has been doing fuck all for four days. If we do less than that, we might as well change the name of the city to Siesta City. The only diktat of this dictatorship is not to kill people and not to run away from this shitty place. They eat and drink for free without having to work, what more do they want?"

“Maybe they want to work and have the right to choose,” Quioiana suggested.

The new King, unfortunately, was unaware of her people's needs for freedom. The Ahali had already had masters in the past: they would hardly have tolerated a new one.

“Look, you can tell your friends on holiday that, if they want to work, there are so many things to do. The right to choose, on the other hand—"

Maximilian seemed to think of an elaborate answer.

“Bollocks, nothing. Listen, in the next few days we finish the first rooms of Whitehall Palace. Then we make a census, in official documents. This way we will be able to give a job to those who want to work. Speaking of which."

Maximilian turned to a wall and screamed.

"TODD!"

The man came out of the darkness with his hands over his ears.

"Maximilian, why are you screaming?"

“Cunt, everyone is ready to fight today. Listen, my dear yankee, you're good with these things. See what should be put on the documents and what could be useful to make this whole mess more efficient. We need to make them work."

The necromancer turned back to the Ahali.

“Quioiana, this is Todd. Yankee and accountant. He's good at organizing things, so I leave him to you for all the time you need."

Quioiana observed that Todd. She hadn't seen him around very often but, on the few times she had run into him, she hadn't had the impression that he was intelligent. However, that human had killed dozens of their best stealth warriors.

Looking into his eyes, she felt a shiver down the back of her neck. That Todd had many more levels than her. He looked like a rat in some ways, but he was also as dangerous as a tiger.

Quioiana nodded forcefully, with a nervous smile on her face. She was uncomfortable even though he had been recommended to her by Maximilian.

“Well, if that's all,” said the King, standing from the table, “I must go and commandeer some animals. The Curtain has fallen almost everywhere and magical interference is now at an all-time low since we arrived in Kome. Little one, you coming?"

Strith nodded and followed the necromancer out of the tower.

"We need paper, lots of paper," muttered Todd. "Maximilian will have to make paper for passports stronger with an Enchantment."

Paper for passports...

Quioiana absolutely did not know what Todd was talking about. To be honest, she didn't even understand Maximilian's words very well.

Her gaze must have been quite confused, if the Texan felt compelled to specify: “Identity documents. From what I understand, they have never been a priority for the Vanedenis. Nor for you Ahalis. They are pieces of paper that certify your identity, contain the portrait and personal information of their owner."

"And ... what good would they do?" Quioiana asked.

“It is a way to recognize citizens. It will serve to give access to different daily activities and to identify those who are part of our community. In this way, infiltrating our city, even to carry out the most stupid of jobs, becomes impossible."

Quioiana stood up, nodding. She had had doubts about Todd's and Maximilian's intention, but she had to admit the idea was good.

“Alright. Let's see if Themistocles and Mibunum can help us, then," she sighed.

…

Day 5 after the Battle

Maximilian was looking up at Eudokia, because of her stature. It wasn't his fault if she kept being so tall.

"So, my Queen, what did you decide to do? Will you be my co-ruler?"

Maximilian tried not to burst out laughing as he said those words, but he couldn't avoid a sly grin to spread on his face.

How could he remain serious while saying the words My Queen? He had no idea how Quioiana could call him Your Highness, Your Majesty without laughing. In fact, she was one of the very few who called him that way seriously.

Eudokia looked around, carefully observing every stone in Maximilian's tower. Every centimetre of stone seemed more important than what the necromancer was saying.

“No.”

The Londoner scratched his head and thought of something to say. Even him didn't feel at ease with her.

There were so many kinds of beauty, ranging from the most delicate ones to the most passionate and fiery. Eudokia's was a glacial beauty. She was as beautiful as a steel monument dedicated to a military success.

The woman in front of him was the kind of person who, as beautiful as she might be, would have no purveyors. Her beauty was detached, unreachable.

Freezing.

“Well, bollocks, listen. I have to finish the sewer before we find ourselves bathing up to our necks in shit. Soon we will finish like in Jaws, but instead of a huge white shark we'll have a huge floating turd trying to eat us all."

"I don't see why I should care about it, Maximilian."

“Well, we're up to our knees in shit, literally. So, tell me why you should turn down my offer. I guess you have enough passive skills to make this place the richest and most luxuriant city on the continent without lifting a finger,” babbled Maximilian.

The necromancer was beginning to feel the first signs of fatigue and to lose some of his wits. He had limits, too.

There were too many things to do in a short time and very few people were willing to cooperate. Unfortunately, he had promised that he would not force anyone to work and now that promise was backfiring.

Oh well, if the Ahali were so keen at working , they would soon be satisfied.

“You've proven yourself to be nothing more than another member of your species. I'm still deciding whether letting you live was a good decision or not. In the event that I decide that I have wrongly evaluated the situation, pay attention, because I would withdraw the favour I did you, not roasting you for invading the privacy of my home."

“Bollocks, still mad about your cave. One sees a cave in a huge crevasse and thinks there might be some treasure. And when you see two coins, you don't say Ah, here lives the scary and TIGHT-ASS Eudokia, let's make sure we don't touch anything, especially the cursed vase that explodes as soon as you touch it."

The woman narrowed her eyes, irritated, and Maximilian felt his skills and common sense advising him never to bring up the vase again.

"Okay okay. My God, your sense of humour is non-existent, huh. Look, if you're here to have fun and watch something new, you need to get some work off my shoulders. I wanted to start making cottage cheese and porridge, but I'm still busy with sewers and houses. Luckily Anna is helping me with the crops and the undead are there to act as slaves, but I also need a little help from you. I promise you that I will return your help with a huge favour. I will do whatever you want."

Eudokia, for the first time since he had known her, took on a languid look that immediately made him regret what he had said.

"Promise accepted."

Maximilian felt the mana around them awaken and begin to dance wildly.

“Remember, I would not break a promise made with so much emphasis to a member of my people. I can get whatever I want from you, Maximilian. I accept the proposal and may heaven, the Harbingers and my ancestors be my witnesses. I will perform my duties as queen of this city and your empire to the best of my ability. But never forget the promise, if you don't want the ruin of all the people who will benefit from my help."

Maximilian swallowed noisily.

"Okay okay. A deal with an old and devious creature, how bad could it be."

“I would not call old the devious creature who made a pact with you, Maximilian. Wise is a much more suitable adjective. And if you start calling me Your Majesty or even just my Queen, maybe I'll use my favour for something that won't cost you your life."

The necromancer looked at the wry smile on her face and sighed. He needed her help.

Also, if it really helped, he was sure he could find a way to break a pact not sealed with blood or other guarantees. Words were powerful in this world, especially in the face of creatures who made millennia seem like a lunch break. But he was Maximilian, damn it.

“Humans keep forgetting three things all the time,” Eudokia resumed, “manners, history and intellectual care of their young. This is why I have decided that I myself will give lessons in an Academy. Voluntary enrolment. I need you to help me build it."

Hearing her words, the Londoner had a twitch in his eye.

"I'm not very good at [Geomancer] magic," Eudokia justified herself with an innocent smile.

Well, cunt, should I be good at it? I've been here for a month, useless sack of scales and--

"If I were you, I wouldn't think another word."

Eudokia winked at him and left the room.

Maximilian was again alone in his tower. He lay down on one of the beds that still furnished the rooms and let out a heavy sigh.

Good, now she can even read minds. Perfect.

…

Three weeks after the Battle.

Matthew was half immersed in a river with icy waters. It was one of the areas that had become accessible since the Curtain fell.

There weren't many mountains in Kome and the geography didn't make it clear to him how there could be rivers on that continent, but that didn't interest the Californian, to be honest.

He didn't even remember how long he had been in the water. He put his hands in front of his face, turning them again and again. He watched the lines and small folds that gave form to the fingerprints. He studied the subtle movements of the skin as he bent and turned his forearms.

But his mind wasn't there, he wasn't analysing his own body movements.

His mind was nowhere. He was in oblivion.

His were meditative gestures. They let him take a part of his mind, the dark and silent one, the still one, and enlarge it, allowing it to become everything.

"Matthew?"

The boy winced and nearly fell forward. He felt a shiver go up his whole body, but not from the cold.

There was someone in front of him. Someone alive.

"Strith," he said.

"I have been told that you proposed to create a new training ground. Not a bad idea. If you come with me to His Majesty, we can explain the idea to him and see if, maybe in the next few days, it will be possible to do something."

He stared at her as the river flowed around him and deafened the silence.

He was lucky to be in the middle of the river, because the very thought of this man disgusted him, made him feel dirty.

"Matthew?"

He looked again at Strith

He couldn't help but notice that her hair was shorter and resembled the hairstyles of Hollywood stars. And she was...taller.

That little girl had emerged from her cocoon and transformed into a butterfly.

And Matthew felt nothing but hate.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for some seconds.

The sky above them was grey and a hazy mist haunted the trees around them. It was a peculiar scene on the always sunny continent of Kome. In fact, some rays were still trying to pierce that greyness to reach them.

It was a ghostly view.

Everything was still and icy, like Strith's gaze on him.

Matthew knew who the girls had sided with. He had no doubts she considered him nothing but weak.

The others had moved on. The others moved.

He was there.

He.

Receiving no response, Strith turned his back and walked away without another word.

…

Seventh week after the Battle

Anna only smiled with her mouth, stretching the corners outward when she met someone. She wasn't giving out fake smiles, she was just too distracted to remember to interact with anyone in front of her.

Now he was in the pub that Maximilian had built for Vanedenis and Ahalis to socialize.

The Londoner had asked her to try and make their city in harmony with nature as much as possible. So, her job was to spend as much time as possible walking the streets of the city - which kept changing names day after day - and trying to communicate with nature.

And it wasn't so easy!

Sometimes she could do it without any problems, sometimes she completely failed. Nature was not symmetrical like the urban plans that Maximilian had finally developed for the old Ankon. No, it was a set of things that could take on a thousand compositions, sometimes disordered, sometimes incredibly geometric.

Nature was much more complex than she had imagined.

Anna had levelled up mainly due to Valeria's ability, [The Calm of a Flower in Battle], during the fight. She had obtained almost ten levels.

Speaking with Vanedenis and Ahalis, she had discovered that even after a tough battle it was very rare for anyone to acquire more than a couple of levels. What had happened to the Earthlings, despite Valeria's abilities, was practically impossible. There did not seem to be a plausible explanation among the legends of the Vanedenis.

Unfortunately, however, she had also acquired many combat skills. Each level of a class, Eudokia had explained to her, could be considered a slot. Depending on what someone was doing, the slot could be filled with a different skill.

There were classes like [Cook] that could evolve into powerful combat variants. However, even a simple [Warrior], since its nature was combat-oriented, would have had a big advantage over other classes. Likewise, if a [Cook] had devoted himself entirely to cooking, he would have had an incredible advantage over any other class.

Her [Druid] nature gave Anna a deeper interaction with plants, but the direction of this relationship had been changed by the battle. Anna had figured killing someone would be more difficult for her, but it hadn't.

It did not upset her to have taken the life of an enemy of hers and even the death of Camilla had not really disturbed her.

On the contrary, she thought about the trees' pain. The more her class progressed, the easier it became to communicate with plants and animals.

Animals were not her strong point, but she had also helped Maximilian to organize herds and pastures. It was all organic, as the necromancer had said.

The girl was sure that Maximilian would be able to eliminate any plague and disease that had ever tried to ruin nature. That's why she admired him so much.

What's more, her closeness to nature had given her an understanding of the necromancer class that no one else had developed.

Unlike what the Vanedenis and Earthlings thought, a [Necromancer] was also different from what the [Necromancers] themselves thought. The undead were but one aspect of that class.

Nature whispered in her ear and told her of death, of the stillness of atoms, but also of something even deeper. Maximilian was much more than just a necromancer. He was probably a [King of Necromancy] or something like that.

No one in Ankon had ever spoken positively of necromancy, but now Anna clearly saw the true meaning of this practice. Being a [Necromancer] meant dealing with people's souls.

What souls were, she didn't know. Yet instinct told her that this was Maximilian's job, to interact with souls. Not to destroy them, not to trap them, but to navigate the Styx river and decide which of them would be saved from damnation.

Anna returned her attention to the pub, noting that she had made an ivy grow where it shouldn't have.

She looked blankly at the evolution the ivy had created on a pair of tables and tested the plant's firmness.

Solid.

She shrugged.

Looking closer, she realized she had created a pretty good scene. Peculiar, Maximilian would have said after making a mistake. Peculiar, not wrong. Original, if you’d like.

…

Eleventh week after the Battle

Todd observed Valeria, hidden by the darkness.

Maximilian had taught him to hide almost perfectly. The Londoner, however, continued to disappear even better than him, despite not having any special skills.

No wonder, after all. Maximilian had proved to have extraordinary abilities.

He had been pardoned despite having the class of [Necromancer], so hated by the Vanedenis, and he had also escaped any punishment following the near defeat in battle.

Unfortunately, Todd was left with a class hated as much as Maximilian's, but without his immeasurable ability.

[Backstabber]

He had earned it on the third day on Kome after planting a dagger in Matthew's side and it had never changed.

From what Mummer had told him, Valeria and Matthew had changed classes following the battle, receiving particular and evolved ones.

And something similar had happened to other Earthlings and Vanedenis. Some had remained with the same class, only improving in strength, others had gone their own way.

Only he was always left behind.

Valeria walked quickly through the streets of the city under construction, heading for the pub, now completely finished. It was nice to have a glimpse of the old life on Kome too.

Pretending that things had returned to normal, to Earth, tempting as it was, was really difficult. To remind Todd that his life was now different from that of the accountant he had been, there was a voice in the back of his head. A voice that told him to run away, to try to stab everyone straight in the back of the neck as soon as they turned their backs on him.

Whispers reached his ears of how unfair it was that they had so much more than him.

Yet, contrary to what he had thought, levelling up had made his life easier. Or maybe it had been the training with Maximilian and the battle. He had thought that the stronger his class became, the harder it would be to control it. Fortunately, it had not been so.

The proximity of the Ahalis had also done him good. The Earthlings had had no hostile attitude towards the mortal enemies of the Vanedenis.

He had made friends with the mobile units and with those tasked with reconnaissance and assassinations. He was at ease with them. As a result, he never revealed that he was responsible for the deaths of most of those units.

Todd wasn't sure anyone knew what role he had played in the battle, or how many people he had killed. But he remembered it very well.

63

He had levelled up and gained incredible skills. He had hoped to change his class, to become another person. Without results.

It was like when Karen had told him to avoid talking about politics.

Todd, when you don't talk about politics you are such a lovely man. But when you start talking about Trump people start avoiding you like the plague.

If he had learned to be less annoying, to become another person, he would have had more friends, more close people.

She had been right, his wife, as always. He hadn't wanted to see the truth about his daughter, Jennifer, even if Karen had pushed him several times to secretly follow her.

In another life, Todd might have been a better person.

His second chance had materialized on the continent of Kome. And he had wasted that too.

Despite the voices trying to convince him to kill everyone and escape, Todd did not hate Maximilian, nor Matthew. The training had hardened his character. Hardened in the sense that he had thrown cold water on his nerves before hardening them, such as the legendary Damascus steel, which he had discovered through a documentary on CBS.

He would have liked to have had a few more books than those that Maximilian had stolen here and there and that Eudokia had pulled out of her personal collection, now that he thought about it.

In the following weeks, perhaps, he would have proposed to Maximilian to open a newspaper office. Having a newspaper would have relaxed him, even if he had to be responsible for it himself.

Todd liked to think that, in this world, anything could be possible once one got far enough away. If Themistocles had arrived here, who said Todd could not return to Earth before the tragedy that had destroyed his life?

If there was a person capable of achieving such a miracle, a person who could make even those who were no longer able to dream, that was Maximilian.

Thanks to him, Todd had decided to learn how to behave like a decent person - a lesson that the necromancer himself still struggled to assimilate. But he was trying. Todd also made small daily attempts to avoid sinking into the vortex of murderous fury that tempted him. And perhaps that was why Todd felt more connected to the necromancer than he had ever felt with any other person.

If a monster like Maximilian believed in Todd's redemption, why shouldn't he believe in himself?

How many wonderful things he had made, that extraordinary man. He had made life better for the Vanedenis in Ankon, had made them level up and had prepared them for a battle that, without him, they could never have won. Then, as if he had known the territory of Kome all his life, he was gone for days, only to return holding Eudokia arm in arm.

Eudokia is a dragon.

It was quite easy to guess, right?

It was obvious. Todd wasn't a great fan of fantasy stuff, but his daughter had loved Dungeons & Dragons and other board games. He had spent hours listening to his daughter speaking about magical creatures and, in the end, he had learned something.

Dragons adored shiny objects and owned rich treasures, which they loved to sleep on. And hadn't Maximilian made references from time to time to the bed of gold coins on which Eudokia slept the first time he met her?

Then, the Londoner had never hidden the fact that the woman was old, despite her young and charming figure. Only an ancient and powerful dragon could have retained its beauty.

At first, Todd hadn't asked himself many questions about her. He just frowned at her, exactly as he did with everyone else.

But, when Eudokia had spoken to him for the first time, he had clung to her words with all the strength he had.

I'm not a [Necromancer] and I don't know the techniques you're talking about, but I know this: bringing a fresh corpse back to life is very difficult. Resurrecting a bunch of bones requires the intervention of a deity.

A few sentences were enough to convince him that he no longer wanted to be the person who had tried to kill Matthew. For this reason, instead of continuing to complain in vain, he had tried to make himself useful and had stopped passively accepting everything that happened to him.

So at first he wondered who was that woman who had read inside him without knowing him. She was a dragon, that was what she was. Like no one else had noticed it was the clearest proof of how strong Eudokia was.

Every now and then Todd had wondered if Maximilian could compete with her - indeed, he had wondered if Maximilian, too, was a dragon like Eudokia.

The doubt arose after he overheard a conversation between the woman and Tukker (May he rest in peace!).

“During our journey back here I have repeatedly forced him to fast or eat roots. A small punishment for his barbaric ways. He may be old, but he behaves worse than a child."

Old. How could he be old, even for a dragon's standards?

Todd decided not to think too much about problems bigger than him.

He already had a class he hated to worry about.

He came out of the shadows and entered the pub, sitting down next to Valeria.

"Have they started already?" he asked.

The girl shook her head with a large smile. “Not yet, thankfully! I'm so happy to have a normal life again!"

Todd sighed. He too was grateful to see a glimmer of normality. And if the cooking class that Valeria had enrolled him in would have served to remind him at least a little of home… well, he would have done his best to like it.

…

Mummer was waving a wooden staff in front of him, while Mibunum continued to chase him.

Quioiana had invited them both to discuss some problems of the city in the garden of her house. However, the rivalry between the two had resulted in a sparring match. They didn't even need a pretext: Mibunum had invited Mummer to show him how capable he really was with a weapon in hand.

The [Weapon Master] hadn't acquired his class by chance. He was no [Martial Artist], but he knew a lot of weapons very well.

His age played a fundamental role in the development of his class. A twenty-year-old boy was unlikely to match him, and Mummer knew that well. Even among the Vanedenis, who came out of the wombs of their mothers already armed, there were not many who easily acquired a peculiar class like his.

Unfortunately, despite his size, Mibunum was one of those special Ahali that possessed an uncommon height even for their species.

Mibunum was two meters thirty, maybe even more.

Mummer, on the other hand, about one meter ninety, maybe a couple centimetres more.

Despite this, he looked like a child next to that huge creature. And, even if none of them would admit it, even a Vanedeni would have found it difficult to keep up with the physical overwhelming power of that enemy.

Mibunum throw a punch that could destroy a wall of reinforced concrete. Mummer used his forearm to ward off the blow. His bones didn't suffer at all. Then he hit him in the stomach with the staff, taking his breath away for a moment.

Mummer didn't need more than that do grab Mibunum a throw him on the ground, jumping on his back.

"You win," growled the Ahali.

Mummer's heart was beating wildly in his ears. A little over three months ago, if he had tried to do such a thing, his bones would have shattered. He had spent many years paying attention on the battlefield, had always been careful not to perform heroic deeds that would put his life at risk. And now he could fight with the agility of a boy and the experience of a veteran. Everything was surreal.

“Big hunk, let our [Commander] go before you ruin my garden even more than that. I believe you both have proven to be capable male warriors. Now, can we go back to the organization of the city? Or do you also want to go to the washroom of the house to examine who is the most endowed in the private parts department?"

The two challengers got to their feet, still panting.

In addition to Quioiana, Strith and Themistocles had also witnessed their futile confrontation.

“We came here to understand how to settle the differences between Vanedenis and Ahalis, not to create others,” Themistocles said.

The [Mayor] nodded.

Two months earlier Maximilian had skinned a Vanedeni in the square, in front of the whole population, after he had dared to attack an Ahali for no reason. Since then, nobody had wanted to fight anymore.

But, at the same time, there hadn't been any kind of rapprochement between the two populations. Unity was still too far a goal.

Themistocles and Mibunum interacted with each other and occasionally spoke with members of the other race. Quioiana had to admit that, although the bearded man had not been friendly at first, he had proved to be very skilled with words, so much so that she suspected that he too had the class of [Politician] or some kind of variant.

"It's been three months and we still haven't made much progress in interactions between peoples." Quioiana opened the dance with this phrase, glaring at Mibunum and Mummer, who were now wiping the sweat from their sculpted bodies with sheets. Next time she would make sure to keep them nice and shiny by hiding any absorbent material.

"Maximilian said it's normal and to just let time do its thing," Strith interjected.

Mummer noticed a small grimace forming on Quioiana's face. Strith was the worst enemy of any politician: the girl and [Hero] felt, towards Maximilian, a faith worthy of a sect. Once she received his orders, she was not willing to discuss them, only to carry them out.

The [Weapon Master] knew that the young Vanedeni was actually much more independent in her views than Quioiana imagined. Unfortunately, the Ahali did not have his same opinion. And this often led to disagreements.

Similarly, the little Vanedeni did not like Quioiana's way of always meddling in the choices of her master.

Mummer often found himself at a crossroads. On the one hand, the Ahali's concerns were well founded, but on the other hand, he too trusted Maximilian and felt compelled to support Strith.

In the Vanedeni society, disrespect for an avowed [Hero] was considered an unforgivable offense. There was a stigma attached to such practices, relieved only by the atrocities committed by Mauser.

Now in Kome there were two heroes at the same time, Strith and Maximilian - one by class and the other de facto. The big man could not help thinking that the last time there was a similar occurrence the Vanedenis had practically conquered the world.

The fact that Maximilian wanted to re-institute the tax was only a very clear signal of the rosy future that awaited his people. Bloody too, but those were details.

"Maximilian does not seem to understand that the Ahalis are not beasts like the Vanedenis", snorted Mibunum, settling into a chair too small for him.

Themistocles had shortened his beard and hair, courtesy of the necromancer, who seemed the only human who could handle a haircut without risking scalping the victim in front of him.

A burgundy cape encircled his shoulders and fell softly to the ground, keeping the dirt away thanks to an Enchantment.

“Maximilian has his reasons for doing what he does, Mibunum. If you don't remember, you Ahalis lost the conflict just because he got in the way. The Vanedenis have a history full of heroes. You have broken the chains that bound you to dragons. And Maximilian wants to hunt dragons to pass the time. He wants to make this practice an Olympic discipline. Doesn't it suit you?"

"You mean those games of yours to see who runs fastest?" snorted the huge Ahali with contempt. "Not that there is much to compete if the Ahalis participate."

"Commander, no, commanders", Quioiana brought them back to order. “Let's avoid arguing like children. His Majesty said he is looking forward to binding you again."

Mummer had seen quite a few peculiar things in his life, but when he thought back to nearly a thousand people tied up on the ground, he couldn't imagine anything stranger.

The necromancer had been very clear. The population would be divided into two categories: those able to adapt and behave, and those who would spend their life bound like salami.

The metaphor on salami had been explained to the [Weapon Master] by the Londoner along with a lesson on Earth's cured meats.

Mummer didn't know if it was because of his new carnivorous bones, but the idea of seasoned meat made him bestially hungry.

"Maximilian has no intention of doing anything," Mummer pointed out. "What do you think, Quioiana?"

The woman turned to him, smiling at him and giving him a wink.

He hated that the [Mayor] could flirt in the most innocent of contexts. It continually made him uncomfortable and it was like getting punched in the stomach by Mibunum every time.

“Big hunk, I think it is appropriate to give our people space to breathe. We need a more cautious approach. Maximilian forced all of us to— "

Strith got up from the table.

“Excuse me, I didn't think you would want to waste my time like this again. His Majesty has made his intentions very clear. Coexistence and time will do their job. The Ahalis and the Vanedenis will get used to each other's presence. When we also have new citizens, it will be more evident how accustomed we are to each other's old enemies."

Quioiana turned to the girl in a calm and measured way: "Strith, I would be grateful if you stopped acting like a beast in a cage and started to take into consideration the fact that the man you admire so much can also make mistakes, from time to time."

Mummer tensed his muscles. Mibunum and Themistocles slightly changed position on their chairs, ready to jump.

The most dangerous person in the village in absolute terms was Maximilian; but in relative terms, instead? There was no doubt.

The girl had received not one, but two relics, which she always carried with her. The armour that Maximilian had given her was impenetrable by anything except Mummer's Warbreaker, and was able to disperse the kinetic energy of any blow.

And, if the armour was a problem, Scarlet Lightning, the most important relic of his people, was an even bigger one. Mummer didn't know if Quioiana was going to challenge the person with the shortest temper in town. He just hoped that the Ahali had an idea of the risks she was exposing them all to.

He and Mibunum maybe could have pushed her to the ground.

Maybe.

“Quioiana, I suppose my master could be wrong. What you haven't understood yet, though, is that the person who is building this town practically alone - since yours and my people look like a bunch of spoiled children - can't be more likely than you to be wrong. He's only made one mistake so far, one. Learn to show some gratitude instead of having these stupid meetings. And be careful what you say, because His Majesty is much more merciful than me in reacting to offenses."

Strith left the garden.

Mummer would have lied had he not admitted that he had breathed a sigh of relief. The girl had neither his experience nor Mibunum's overwhelming physical power, nor Themistocles' shrewdness. Still, she had the recklessness of a thousand lions. And two relics.

"We just lost the direct line with Maximilian," Themistocles commented, standing up. "Mibunum, if you can, I would like to talk to some other family of you Ahalis and learn more about your history."

The huge Ahalis snorted and left with the Athenian, immediately after saying goodbye to Quioiana respectfully.

Without Strith's support, they would hardly have been able to change Maximilian's mind.

Mummer looked at the woman on the other side of the table. It was so peculiar that only her hair was grey, and not the rest of her fur as well. In fact, her coat had a few silvery hairs, but mostly retained a natural reddish colour.

“From the descendants of heroes to ordinary nobles, there have always been great examples of patience among our people. The Vanedeni are not people who get upset for nothing. However, when we move, we are inexorable. You don't even think about the war with us anymore, but I assure you that in the head of every Vanedeni there has been nothing but that, since you arrived on Kome."

Quioiana snorted.

“I am tired of the tales about your people. Let me say it, but I think there are more refined solutions than waiting for Maximilian to skin someone else and also force some children to watch”, she was evidently angry.

Mummer had learned over time that she was used to power, to manage things, to feel important. She had done a good job as [Mayor] of her small village, but now her class became more and more useless by the day. And this was because, although she was good at her job, good was no longer good enough. The village had monsters in power and command, with whom the Ahali would hardly have kept the comparison.

Themistocles hadn't even arrived in Ankon for a day when he had defeated Tukker in a duel. No wonder, as he had been one of the most capable strategists in his world.

He still remembered when he had asked Maximilian for more information on the Athenian. The bearded little man had defeated an empire and created a fleet in no time.

Only a Vanedeni could appreciate how difficult such an undertaking was.

Strith, who had always isolated herself and had barred herself from access to training grounds, had become an [Hero] overnight.

Not to mention Todd, now an irreplaceable part of the village. His skills had originated from the infamous class of [Backstabber].

But the credit for all this went to Maximilian. He had brought out the best in all of them and himself. He had recreated the duffer bags, now considered a luxury item, creating a dimensional space, a work of which very few had been capable in all of history. And he had imitated the mode of operation of the Vanedeni flying ships, although he had not managed to faithfully reproduce the original system, which concealed within itself something esoteric and impossible to reproduce.

Practically the Londoner had repeated some of the magical exploits of Koicer, one of the most revered and well-known heroes.

For what it was worth, in three centuries of domination, the Ahalis had failed to replicate both the duffer bags and the ships.

Mummer shook his head. “As you will have understood, getting too worked up is useless. We just have to wait. This is a much more refined solution, don't you think?"

The Ahali snorted.

“Humph!”

Quioiana slid forward in her chair, thus losing her usual composure.

“You are a herd of stubborn goats. It is impossible to deal with you."

“My people have subdued the world, Quioiana. Do not forget that."

“Forget it? Big hunk, someone on the highest levels of this world has made a sacrifice to bring the Earthlings on your side. I don't consider it a trivial thing. If Maximilian had wanted to, you probably would have already reconquered the whole south of Kome."

Mummer smiled as he heard those words, stretching the shallow lines of his face.

"Maybe even the north."

“Who knows”, Quioiana sighed, “it's certainly good to have him on our side. But I'm not sure if he would get the better of a real [Dragonslayer], or more than one. Not even your dear heroine or you yourself could face one."

Mummer laughed heartily when he heard such words. "Your [Dragonslayers] are strong, yes, but they're not Maximilian."

“Sometimes I'm jealous of how you talk about him, you know? A lady like me would like to receive half the attention that is given to that man."

Mummer's good-natured laughter filled Quioiana's garden once again. "Apparently there are many claimants for the position of prima donna."

The [Mayor] replied with a light smile and got up from her seat, turning her back to Mummer and walking towards the front gate.

So it was impossible for the [Weapon Master] to see her smile become bitter and sad.