A scruffy but still together dark blue Varsity Jacket of West Point Military Academy which imprisoned Samantha's green buttoned-up shirt was all that she wore outside that brought her otherwise military demeanor to of a casual wearing young woman of 23 Autumns. She still had her Tactical Jeans (with a Pistol for protection just in case) and her Boots from her standard uniform but for the average Gliesian and even for Iris and Aliathra who have come to know the Redheaded leader of Stryder group is that she looks nothing as 'intimidating' as many of them would say of their first impressions. For Iris, she was wearing the same clothes she had bought from that boutique in Kesserheim that Aparo Corporation took the brunt of the bill for and by every playful glance of the mirror she sees herself dashing. For Aliathra she still wore her worn ranger armor with its Eesilfore Elm armor which is a tree bark that can be fashioned into armor that outperforms the protective properties of leather with the added benefit of being more receptive to magical enchantments that Elves always added as Iris informed the Lieutenant. For the Elf's case, she made her Ranger Armor have insulation properties against Fire of both natural and magical types.

"It looks like we are ready for our Girl's Night Out in the Town now." Samantha said.

Today was a special day or at least that's how Samantha entreated to the Vampire Witch and the former Elven Princess. It was 'Their' day.

"But it's still morning?" Aliathra raised.

"I mean… its Lady's Day." Samantha corrected herself.

"What is this 'Lady's Day' you speak of?" Iris asked.

"Well, it's just something us women in the Federation call when where women get together and go out and have some fun together." Samantha explained.

"You can just go out like this every now and then?" Iris asked.

"Yup, we do this so we can take a break from it all. No boys, just girls just doing girl things. You will get what I mean as time passes." Samantha reassured.

"Oh my." Aliathra blushed. "That must be a lot of Chaperones to keep an eye on them."

"With NO Chaperones." Samantha said.

The Elf Princess eyes widened at the second word of that sentence. She was flushed to hear such an idea of No supervision was unthinkable for her or any other Elven women for that matter. Her mother says that as a Lady of Alfel-Nora, there is a degree of separation that she must and those of her position must have with other folks. Soiree's under the eyes of the Royal Guards and having an attached company of Knights during her studies days at the Academy with her movements planned out for a decade such an unshackled and spontaneous time to just 'Go out' was the first-ever sprouting of freedom that Aliathra had ever heard of.

"We… we can go to that Museum, right? With the statues?" Aliathra asked.

"Yeah sure." Samantha nodded. "Why not?" the Lieutenant shrugged.

"The Bards must also be getting ready for their songs too. We can also catch that too after we look at the art exhibits." Iris mentioned.

Off the girls went to the Collègi o Soffestigadig Celf a Chrefft, otherwise known as the College of Fine Arts and Crafts. The Souviel sun radiated down at the idyllic Duchy as the locals merrily opened themselves up for the first hours of festivities. Some children were playing or waiting for the exciting events that are scheduled today such as the Games which also reminded Samantha that two of her squad mates were participating as an act of Diplomatic 'Goodwill' to Duke Thibault but she knew that this will be more of a Show of Force unless they decide to hold themselves back but in her own honest opinion she doesn't know which is the correct choice. To be perceived strong? Or to be perceived as just? Both had their own rights and wrongs.

As for the rest of the walk, the Duchy sprang into even more vibrancy as the festivities were being emplaced. Colored banners were raised, summer flowers were installed and the folks strolled in celebratory wear of frilly costumes, playful masks and extravagant hats. Souviel had turned into the makings of a

"So many colors." Samantha smiled whilst she held her camera.

She devoured all the fantastic eye candy she saw and took. She did have to explain to the locals who were acting on suspicion by the Otherworlder's strange eye-like device but after an explanation or at least as best she could by saying that: 'This object is a possessed by a Painter so detailed and so fast that it can make an exact copy of the sight it saw when I command it.' The Natives were eager to be 'put into paint' as they responded and gladly posed. They were indeed shocked at the sheer precision, detail and lighting the camera can produce in such an instance.

They passed by Duke Thibault's fairytale of a likeness castle just as the man alongside a horseback riding Robert Bianchin who was trying to keep a straight face whilst his horse trotted. His company of Mercenary Bodyguards were all jogging around him to keep up with the cavalcade. For Samantha she knew that their ultimate destination is still the Art College albeit for the Duke, the Games will be held at a field outside of the College whose premises are outside of the city proper and surrounded on the east the picturesque farmlands that the Duchy is famous for and at the west the great blue sea. People are now flocking to the College as Samantha noticed. Peasants, off-Duty Knights, Travelers from far away lands, Townsfolks and Nobles were all eagerly walking towards the festivities.

'Today was going to be a fun day' Samantha said to herself.

She worked hard for the past few months, now she wants to play harder. And also show Iris and Aliathra a good time out in the town.

Meanwhile, in a secluded tent near the Elven Bazaar part of the Festival, some shocking news was discovered.

"The Duke invited these Demons to these games?" said a Sefydliad agent. He was weary, his clothes torn and physically exhausted.

Their plan to cancel the Chwartiadd of the highest possible degree. Not only where the plan failed in its intentions, but it was effectively countered by the unexpected arrival of these Otherworlders who had come to their camp in the middle of their Weather Invocation ritual. Of the twelve Sefydliad Agents that were in that camp, only 5 got out with their lives.

"That is what I have heard from the Ambassador. They will send several of their finest warriors to participate in the games. No doubt to show their power and impress everyone. They will likely be seduced by them and be vulnerable to whatever sorts of corruption or sweet nothings they will offer." Marxian said.

"There are also reports from that one such person accompanying the Demons shares a likeness to her Royal Majesty Princess Aliathra herself." Brenyra said.

"She must be just some sort of Shifter of sorts. Just to exercise some good will under false pretenses to the Duke." cursed Waltorin.

"I doubt its always that Fat human and his guards near him that talks with the Duke. I doubt that's a Shifter though. She most likely is being held captive by that redheaded one and her fellow Demons. I heard that the Fat human speaks to them very favorably and 2 of them will be competing in the Games." Marxian said.

"If their intention is to impress the people of Souviel with their feats we will need to show them that they are weak. We can use our Holy Spells to diminish them and then ultimately expose them for the tricksters they are." Said Marxian.

"We will need to be careful when it comes to the Fighting Tournaments. The judges have been stepping up their procedures for any unscrupulous folks." Waltorin said.

The Chwartiadd's Fighting Tournaments were notorious for Cheating. Illegal Substances that enhances the performances of Teams, Pre-Battle Spell Enchantments on tournament regulation equipment and poisoning the other teams beforehand were part of the course in the game. If it wasn't for the large prize money in the end, many fighters would have skipped this event.

A Demon would no doubt have the advantage of its superior physical prowess on its side but it can be diminished by the casting of Holy Spells upon it. Unfortunately, the Ethuilen Team's Mage doesn't know how to cast them and only he is allowed to cast magic during the Battle.

As for the one entering the Horse Races, however, that would be a bit tougher if the rider representing the Outworlders will be mounting a Horse borrowed from one of the Duke's own stables since he is there as a Guest at the same time as he is a games participant or will it bring its own mount. Either way, outside of telling the Ethuilen's representative Horse Rider the situation at hand, the best they can do is try to poison the Otherworlder's mount if they can.

"What about the Princess? What do you believe? Is she a Shifter or being held captive by the Demons?" Marxian asked.

"I believe that she isn't the Princess at all but someone of her likeness." Said Brenyra. She folded her arms as she said her piece.

"I think she was simply captured and now forced under to do the Demon's bidding. We should see if we can find that Redheaded woman, we may most certainly find Lady Aliathra. She must be rescued before the Demons use her gifts against us." Waltorin argued.

"And if she is a Shifter, then maybe she may know something or two about these Otherworlders." Brenyra added.

"Either way that may sound something that we can do to salvage what we can from this calamity. If you see an opportunity take it but don't risk yourself too much. Lyndis doesn't want to lose more of us to these Demons." Nodded Marxian.

--------------

Crocker gazed at the black metal-reinforced fists his Exo Suit embedded itself with. He was there, at the Fight Pits which he arrived so early in the morning that there were still candles shedding a few embers of lights before a dredge took their warmth away to make way for the slowly rising sun on the horizon. The fighters inside aired a sense of excitement and anxiety for all of their training and preparations will be put to the test at this tournament.

Tournament Officials began to make a roll-call of the tournament's participants. They made their way past the pits accounting all of the fighters and recording whatever formalized position they will take during the games. Crocker got to admit, this tournament was more robust than he thought.

"I will take a Sword and a Mace please," Crocker told the Tournament Official.

"Excellent choice." The Official said.

It was honestly the only thing that he had any familiarity of using since the Mace and a Shield were similar in usage to a Riot Shield and Club. He had a few stints of volunteering for Anti-Riot operations before. He was told that the Tournament regulated weaponry were designed to be dull and at a set weight so it doesn't draw any life-threatening injuries but still cause some considerable damage to one's armor. Speaking about Armor, Lewis' Exo Suit was allowed through due to a mix of technicality and plain ignorance. The Technical Loophole for his armor being a non-magically enchanted/enhanced armor with his Exo-Suit's protective full-face helmet covering him being within the rules of the Tournament. As for the ignorance part, Crocker's Exo-Suit hydraulics were of non-magical in nature and were the secrets to his hidden strength.

"I heard that you were called the 'Ogrebreaker'. Is it true you fought an Ogre with your bare hands and won?" One of his teammates asked.

His exploits back in Tyr Rian did indeed perceived him.

He was hastily pushed into the local Souviel team as a Substitute for one of its linesmen who called in that he was unable to attend the games due to his house being flooded soaked by the storm days ago. Other than their gladness that they won't be a man down for their game, Crocker was still in the humble position of Linesman which is the most basic unit of the game.

The Fighting Games were split into many categories as Crocker heard through the Official's rules and quickly understood them. For the Duels it's a match between who can get the most accurate hits into the other opponent within a set timeframe will win. Another man from Camp Ghillie will be in that category and he hopes for his success. As for the Group matches, it was more of team coordination and to be able to eliminate another player you have to knock him down for only the feet up to the knees are allowed to touch the ground. Any other part and the Tourney Officials will count you out of the fight.

Magic and any Range combat on the other hand has another set of rules just for them. For Archers or Ballistari, not only were they given Regulation Bows and Crossbows but were given specially made arrows that are made to apply a significant amount of blunt force that the unwary warrior can be knocked down by it or if enough of said ammunition saturates its attacks then it can fall even the most steadfast of champions. For mages, they must write a waiver beforehand that details what kind of magic from what type of field they will use and must stick to Spells that come from that school only. Any such range objects that may cause collateral damage to the audience are either heavily discouraged or outright banned. Thankfully a shield spell was cast on the stands as a precaution courtesy of the locals.

Crocker reviewed his Armor; he hasn't officially registered what kind of armor he would be wearing in which it is regulated that it can be of any material as long as there is no Magical Enchantment were discovered as evaluated by the judges who will classify beforehand. His suit not only allows him to perform herculean tasks and a minor speed boost but with an additional modification albeit one at a time every time he has to perform maintenance checks: add first aid injectors which is no pun intended his first choice of gear when he brings out his suit into a combat yet, unfortunately, it is considered an illegal substance so that was considered a discard, unfortunately, an Overclock ability but in his experience it was risky as the structural integrity of his suit also accelerates the chances of a malfunction, and lastly a small jetpack propulsion systems that can allow him to jump higher or hover into the ground which is what he selected to have on his armor.

"So, your armor can… fly?" the Judge said. His eyes were twitched in confusion as he observed the burly man before him. He was easily less than half of Lewis' size.

"If I need too and only for a small amount of time. It has its fuel, I mean limits… if it's illegal I will remove it right now." Crocker said.

"Oh no, your armor… if I can say that is legal. It's just that… well… it's because of your role in your team that I am quite worried about." The Judge said.

"What do you mean by that?" Crocker asked.

"Linesmen normally wear Medium to Heavy Armor. Your…'Armor' if I can say that barely qualifies as Light." The Judge said. "I mean it only protects your head, upper chest and some parts of your legs. You are going to feel the full force of everyone's weapons when you get out there at the grounds."

"I prefer to not be weighed down if I can help it." Crocker considered.

"Well, you need to be quick on your feet if you don't want to get a sword poked into you. They may be dull but they can still hurt." The Judge said as he officially wrote down Crocker's contestant vitals on his paper.

"You are a Linesman wearing Light Armor while carrying a shield and a mace. Remember that my colleagues who will be out there will want a fair but entertaining fight out there." The Judge said.

Crocker cracked his fists; he could hear the announcement horn at the distance which alerted the rest of Team Souviel that the gathering of Fighters from all teams is being called in.

Promptly following their lead, Crocker walked out of the Fighter's Pit as the roar of the crowds engulfed him. The half-Sun and half-Pegasus banner of Souviel flew proudly as he and his team mates draped themselves in the Duchy's colors of sunset dusk and aquamarine to each half and half the color over there armor.

Many eyes were directed towards Crocker, the women chattered to themselves as they mesmerized over his thick biceps and exotic tattoos, the men commented on his strange armor that he wore that just as the Judge has said his piece was almost non-existent outside of several connecting areas over his body. But soon those murmurs turned from astoundment to belittling slander.

"Is that what they call 'Armor'?" One lightly bloused Knight who wanted to have a night out for himself and his lovers asked.

"That 'Armor' won't protect him from anything. All of his skin is out! Is he like some sort of barbarian? Disgusting." Scoffed an off-duty guardsman.

"For someone who can defeat a dozen Land Sharks and an Ogre barehanded, their fighters look so feeble." A Nobleman jeered.

All of the fighters about 8 teams of them of differing sizes, shapes and colors gathered up to the podium up above them and to his sight, Crocker saw Duke Thibault accompanied by his entourage, Robert Bianchin and a rather dapper fellow carrying an elongated trumpet adorned with a flag. The Dapper blew the horn as the crowds and the fighters seized all sound to stop and listen to him. The participants all turned their gazes upwards.

"A Cheer for the fighters, the ladies and the lords. To commence our entertainment two teams shall cross swords." Said the Dapper Fellow as he heralded the commencement of the Chwartiadd Games.

"Who virtues ignore or lands blow unclean shall be forever branded as shameful and obscene." The Dapper Herald spoke in rhymes.

Crocker had to admit, his words were worth a dime.

Then all of the fighters in their teams saluted with their weapons across for all of the crowds to be seen. Crocker felt ignorant as he was the last man to draw his sword and do the courtesy call. In the meantime, the crowds roared cheering the names of their nations and favorites. Crocker can see that outside of the Humans who were likely just people from around the Slaegian Empire, but there were also fantastic races ranging from animal-like humanoids who wore light armor yet held on their hands' several Javelins and Darts tucked under their shields. He also Saw Elves who were dressed similarly to what Aliathra's Ranger armor was with a mix of green and wood. Another sight was the Dwarves who were just like the Humans had a more armored uniform befitting of their pint-sized stature. Lastly, he also saw several crudely armored but imposing Orcs who wore what is in his eyes scrap metal bundled up to look intimidating whilst covered on a layer of furs.

"Whilst the Fighters prepare, let me say I am elated. To behold such a crowd on the edge, breath bated." The herald said.

"Eight teams enter this tournament, their heads held high but only one can take home the crown whose wreaths shall the victors head will lie." The Herald said before he promptly blew the trumpet again.

"The first fight of the day is our own company of Knights, Errants of Souviel who many here wish to see win the day. Their adversary, a foe most firm, Bannermen from the Dwarven Mountains who's walls they affirm." The Herald declared the first bout.

The rest of the fighters that were not called left the grounds leaving the Dwarven warriors and the Souviel Knights alone in the Tournament Field.

"The Shield Wall is Unbreakable together!" screamed one Dwarf in his native tongue.

"The Dwarves rely on formations to win due to there armor slowing them down." Mentioned one of Crocker's Teammates.

"So what? They can tire us out?" Crocker asked. He knew that such a Shield wall will be used as a draw away as someone lighter but armed much more offensively can go for the team's unguarded flanks.

The Souviel Knight nodded in agreement. "We just need to draw out the Dwarven Rangers with our Skirmishers before making any push." He said.

"I see, but be ready in case things go not according to plan." Crocker nodded.

After the last few moments of weapons and armor checking, the Dapper Herald walk towards a large bell near him and with a great strong pull, he rang the bell which signifies the start of the match.

"Let the Chwartiadd begin!" he exclaimed.

The crowds roared as they are eager to see the beginning of the Games commence.

As expected, the Dwarves gathered around a shield wall but it wasn't just the Linesman, but it was also the Dwarven crossbowmen too. They fortified themselves inside the Shield Wall before raising their shields upwards on their heads to evolve it into a tortoise formation or the Testudo. But this time, there were a crack underneath the formation to allow a crossbow to shoot out from.

Several of the Souviel Knights scrambled to defend themselves from the hail of bolts but their unarmored comrades who were the Mage and the Skirmishers were shot down leaving only the linesmen and Crocker left who created their own but crudely shaped shield wall due to a hasty arrangement by this change of events.

"We need to get close!" The Souvieli Captain ordered.

Atop the Duchal Box, Duke Thibault watched nervously as his team was being cut down by the Dwarves.

"Are you so sure that your man can win this? Where is this 'Indomitable Strength' you speak off about these special Armors can give?" Duke Thibault said.

"The Hercules Mark 4 Exo Suit is not meant to be used as an armor but instead it is used to help the soldier do more for far less effort added in. It is called where I come from Efficiency Multiplication." Bobby said.

"Oh? Explain." The Duke leaned closer.

"Efficiency is Input divided by Output. Input being how much effort you do something versus Output is how much of what you wanted gets out of from your input. Therefore, Efficiency is just an indicator, a sort of symbol that you can see on how well you can do your work. In Aparo Corp we believe in making things more efficient." Bobby explained.

"That still doesn't explain what makes this suit of 'Armor' Sir Lewis Crocker of yours so special." The Duke said.

"In our myths there was a Hero named Hercules who is said to be the strongest man to be ever born. It is said that he can had done thought to be impossible deeds such as carrying a mountain, out running a bull and fighting something ten times larger than him. In Aparo Corp we make suits like what Crocker is wearing. Some for Agility and some for Strength." He said. "Imagine your knights being able to do more for you, the Duchy and the people of your Duchy if they have a suit like Crocker wears. They can carry more objects, do more without tiring too often, move faster in all terrains and be able to do it all again without any break. That is the power of Aparo Corporation, Efficiency at the palm of your hands."

Yet Bobby internally was a bit embarrassed for himself. He was advertising Aparo but the exact origins of the Exo Suit Crocker wore was from one of their competitors Militech but the Duke will likely not have any time to investigate it. The Suits Aparo Corporation sell to Militaries and Mercenary Companies were more specialized compared to the more Jack-of-All-Trades suits Militech offers. But if the Duke asks for several suits of Armor in exchange for money and other such beneficial guarantees then he will without hesitation give it to him with no knives behind his back. He can always just pass along the past generation Exo Suits to the Knights Errant of Souviel. It could be quite an entertaining sight to see fully armored knights perform athletic feats with ease.

"What kind of Armor does Crocker does he wear?" the Duke asked.

"It is both." Bobby said.

Down back at the Tournament arena, the remaining Souvieli Knights closed the distance between them and the Dwarves who dug in their heels on the dirt ready to shake resist the battering of the Souviel Knights. All of the fighter's feet tore through the dirt and sand of the Tournament grounds leaving slight marks and deep footsteps as the weight of their bodies pushed against each other in a clash of physical prowess, despite their losses, the combined weight of the Souvieli Knights was of a match against the still intact Dwarven Bannermen.

Crocker however, knew such a strategy have a low probability of working in their favor. Brute force meeting brute force will only be a battle for attrition of energy. Then he got an idea, it was an old Chinese teaching he remembered reading from a Chinese Fortune Cookie dispenser as a joke sometime before his Tour here in Benham-3:

"Water follows to the end while the Mountain resist until it erodes."

It is also another thing he knows that the strength of the wall is its weakest brick. Applying that to a Shield---Wall he has to look for the weakest link. Unfortunately, at the heat of the moment, he could barely see the white of the Dwarves eyes so trying to find the weakest link in a span of a few seconds would be too risky. Instead, Crocker thought why not create the weakness?

He grabbed the Dwarven Warrior who was in front of him shield with his weapon hand and yanked the Dwarf off of his shield wall. The Stout and Pint-Sized powerhouses that they were, they did not expect to be pulled away rather than just pushed back until they were toppled over. For a split second a large glaring hole was exposed.

Crocker thrusted the Hydraulic presses of his Exo Suit forward, his feet drawing a line on the sand. With one great push at that brief second, the sheer weight of his multiplicative force produced by the 150-pound Hercules Mark 4 suit plus his 167 pounded self and adding the combined weight of his 7 remaining teammates of Souvieli Knights-Errants, they sent the Dwarven Bannermen flying in a miss of 4-foot-tall bodies. Their formation was decimated beyond any that they could conceive. All of them fell down on their backsides or face first onto the sandy ground in utter defeat. The Crowds couldn't believe their eyes, the officials couldn't believe their eyes. Some tried to protest by accusing him of sneaking in some Magic but the Wizard Judges confirmed to their own astonishment that no Magic was detected among the Otherworlder throughout the entire matchup.

Crocker stood alone in front of his teammates whilst he himself towered above the knocked down Dwarves.

"What… is this power?" a Dwarven Bannerman said in a defeated voice.

"It is called Kinetics sir." Crocker said.

The Audience's attention was held captive as they look upon the triumphant Otherworlders who was shaped into a tattooed armed Human man.

"Point. Made." Bianchin smugly smiled as the Duke stared at the Herculean feat that had happened.

Already the games had started with showstoppers and the Chwartiadd had only barely begun.

--------

At around the same time but another part of the Festival two knowledgeable people who know their machineries were at work placing all elbow greasing onto the heartiest of race horses since Secretariat. Even onlookers couldn't help but glance at this strange yet boldly flashing 'horse' that stood amongst the rest of its peers. It was shorter than the other horses and held a wider body expanse. On its surface, the skin was of a setting sun with the visage of a single lone horse on each side that looked almost alive as it pounded across the land. Its legs were circular like a wheel made of luminescent metal instead of wood much to the disbelief of the natives as they only ever saw wheels of the flesh of trees. But the most peculiar feature of it all was the way it rumbles. Some say it coughs winds, others say it howls like the maw of fire but all can agree that it had an aspect of hoarded restlessness within that horse that its rider calls 'a Mustang Sixty-Five'.

"Okay… insides are cleaned… initiating the computer." Kayin muttered.

He was assigned to help Diaz tune up his car before the big race. There were some parameters that needed to be optimized since this race is had no pitstops or can afford to have any pitstops.

"Okay let see her purr." Diaz smiled as he closed the lid of his car before turning around back to the driver's seat.

"Ready… Set… Go!" Kayin urged.

Diaz revved his engines letting out a boisterous roar. He smiled as he heard his Mustang spring to life. It did however startle several of the contestants and onlookers who were starting to gather at the starting point of the Horse Race. People were scurrying for a place to stand and see the horses that will be participating in this event. Aside from Diaz's oddly shaped steed that he noticed that several onlookers admire the 'shiny fur' which is actually just the waxed surface of his Mustang. As for the other steeds there were some fairly mundane but quite majestically presentable steeds with well-groomed hair and chic dresses from the tall cloaks of linen to jewelry adorned with some hairstyling on the manes like braids and knots.

"That your horse neighs strange. Is it sick?" one of the contestants asked Diaz.

She was a Female Elf of brown long hair of a lithe frame similar to Aliathra. Her slender legs were emphasized by the slim jockeying pants she wore. Diaz had to admit, that the Woman had a nice firm behind as he smiled.

"Men, always think with their eyes… typical. My Gh'da, Polothúl will leave you all to tasting my Dust." The Elf Rider haughtily said. She twirled her long hair exposing her radiant and moist mane with some scents of oils and perfumes that matches her pride.

Her eyes were dismissive seeing the Mustang for her own eyes and the painted horse decals on its sides. The Elf thought she was seeing some sort of exotic breed of horse she never heard before but in her eyes it didn't matter. She was confident that she would win with her faithful steed.

"Well if its means seeing your nice butt, I don't mind losing." Diaz smirked.

"Such Boorishness!" the Elf scoffed before she walked off with her horse breed.

"Hey, Diaz did she said that her horse is a 'Gh'da'?" Kayin asked.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Iris told me about them once. They are considered the fastest horses in all of Gliesia. Even faster than Thoroughbreds. Or at least that's what ISAC said." Kayin said.

"Good to know… but that ass! Have you seen that one?" Diaz pervertedly smiled.

"Focus Vincent. Remember this is just an exhibition despite the stakes." Kayin reminded.

"Yeah… your right. It's like brining a Gun to a Knife fight yeah? A Ford Mustang created and perfected by Shelby against actual horses. I mean… now that I mention that… Should I hold back?" Diaz asked.

"More like bringing an MGL to a Knife fight… minus Iris' power ups." Kayin said.

"There it is again with Iris. Do you ever… think you … her… maybe just try?" Diaz asked.

"I… maybe… I… don't know… I…" the engineer was at a loss for words.

"Just try… initiate… you know you want to… maybe later… during dinner huh? Some time together?" Diaz proposed.

"You are right, maybe I should try at least once. Just… keep that between us." Kayin said awkwardly.

"Well I am a Criminal… so I am a very good liar." Diaz blushed.

Just then a Herald approached the large stands beside the Starting Line of the Race. He blew a horn grabbing the racers attention.

"Attention! Attention! The Festival's: Ras Ceffylau Traws Duchy will commence in 5 minutes." He announced.

"Okay Diaz, one last review before we go," Kayin said. "This is an Endurance Race with at least 29 checkpoints between you and the Finish line which is right in front of the Duke's Castle. You need to pass every last one of those checkpoints otherwise it's all no good. This race is meant to take all day until sunset but your car can easily cut the distance in about an hour or less. I suggest just for the sake of not making the people think we are not Gods at best or cheaters at best just… try to go easy on them or maybe give them a head start? Also, my Drone will provide Aerial Reconnaissance so I can keep track of your progress." He reminded.

"Yeah, thanks for that and the map on my phone too. These routes have festival outposts scattered on some of them. Plenty of people to see seven-hundred horse power in my Mustang." Diaz smiled.

"Seven-Hundred horses? Are you a Necromancer? Judges!" one of the contestants who overheard their conversation exclaimed.

"I meant that as a metaphor… a figure of speech." Diaz tried to calm him.

"But that's true." Kayin bluntly said.

"Shut it Kayin you ain't helping." Diaz reprimanded.

A Judge approached them. After the contestant who waved the protest told his piece a Mage was dispatched to examine for any magic on Diaz's Mustang. He had to make his 'horse' neigh, kick and strut a few feet as the Mage used his innate senses to detect any illegal arcane energies within the Mustang.

"I detect no magic of any kind in this strange steed." The Judge said.

"It's just a metaphor asshole. This horse has the power of Seven Hundred horses!" Diaz boasted.

"Then let me see that the track then. I wish to grin off of your brow." The rider badgered.

"Hey leave it to the Elf girl over there with that Gh'da thing… whatever." Diaz shot back. "She has some great ones on her back to see that I don't mind losing." He gave a soft smile.

"You mean Ladui Eriande? She is from the Elven Rainbow Helms. The Elite Guards of the Ethuilen. She is there best rider and the Gh'da are the fastest breeds known to all of Gliesia." The rider informed.

Diaz took in that information before he headed back down to the driver seat of his car. He could see the sun already radiating from up above him and the mirage lines waving around as it interacts the cool and warm air together leaving some of the dirt roads to give the illusion of water lying about.

"Hey Kayin… its morning right now so and I haven't gotten Breakfast yet… whatcha having?" Diaz said.

"Well thanks to some purchases back at town we got some fresh eggs… then our rations… I got a stove up so I am getting some REAL food cooked up finally." Kayin said.

"I can almost taste it." Diaz murmured.

"Attention! All Riders the race is about to start." The Herald of the Game said.

"Try not to run over or scare the shit out of the horses Diaz." Kayin warned.

Diaz nodded despite the fact that he was contacting him through radio. He didn't want to get any stains on his car except the inevitable dust he will eject from the ground. But then it him again. The fact that he is essentially bringing a gun to a --- no a nuclear missile to a knife fight metaphorically speaking. He maybe a hedonistic Playhard who strives to always win every confrontational, social, business encounter in all of his times as an Agent for Aparo Corporation, but all of this was different. There was no thrill to it if he just launched himself over a mushroom cloud of kicked dust behind all the other racers, the Prize wouldn't taste well if he had such an overwhelming advantage over them.

The other contestant's horses were becoming restless as they all piled up around Diaz who was positioned in the exact middle of all of them. He can see that the Elf woman he teased was a few positions away from him on his left. She was wearing her knightly helmet and her horse's eyes were focused with a steely gaze, a gaze on the long path towards victory.

"Riders! Ready… Get set…" the Herald announced.

All of the horses hollered loudly as they took their first gasp of air for the long rush ahead.

But for Diaz, he only swallowed his ego as his right hand lowered towards the Keys of his Mustang and de-ignited its engine.

"Go!"

The horses galloped forward leaving a thick and impairing cloud of dust in its wake. It was hard for the race officials to see who was first to emerge from that dust cloud until their eyes shed off the last of the particles from its delicate surface. When the smoke cleared, to everyone and including Kayin's astonishment, the so-called 'Hundred Horses' Mount of Diaz was still stationary before the starting line.

"Uhm… Vincent? Is… did something went wrong with your car? The Engine isn't kicking." Kayin radioed.

Diaz sighed.

"I go when I feel like it. You got any of those Eggs and some cups of Coffee there for me? I ain't racing on an empty stomach." Diaz said.

Kayin shrugged, the Federation team can afford this luxury and then again, it's only illegal to willingly go out of your mount once you cross the Starting line under pain of disqualification. He too also feels just as bad at being an accessory for such for all intents in purposes, a Diplomatic 'Flex' on the primitive Natives. Diaz winning the race despite the head start from the other contestants could prove to be much more of better impression on the Natives to their way of life and power and should be more receptive to a peaceful capitulation of hostilities and suspicion if all goes according to plan. Unknown to Kayin, not everyone is impressed with Diaz's performances. The large number of native spectators still insistent that Diaz shows his oh-so 'Many horses-powered' steed. The Engineer just so hopes that if he and Diaz have to explain to the Officials that the Mustang has indeed have not a single trace of Mana when they get probed by the Mages officiating the integrity of the event. Magic is a way of life in this world and this world still not ready to embrace science and technology with open arms yet. But a demonstration on the Earthling's Superior ways would be a start to convince them that maybe these Otherworlder's who are in their shape and form might not be so malevolent or hostile as they feared at first glance.

But then what if despite such efforts from there more… peaceful teams the Natives would still rather dilute themselves in fear and paranoia. No doubt instigated by the Empire and their friends and lackeys who still foolishly believe that the UFE come here in Conquest rather than in Peace. A Counter-Misinformation Campaign will likely have to happen in conjunction with their Diplomatic Missions from now on as Kayin thought. He will have to suggest this to High Command as soon as he is able.

"Fine… scrambled or sunny side up?" Kayin asked.

-------------------

The Complementary wine was delicious as Samantha says so herself. She, alongside Iris and Aliathra are enjoying themselves in an art gallery in the Fine Arts College of Souviel. It was an assault on all senses for the women, but a most indulgent assault. There was the pleasant sound of strings humming along the tune of the tintinnabulation of flutes and the beating step of an exotic dancer laced in gold and scantily clad dress for the ambiance that surrounded their ears. Their noses scented a collection of aromas from flowers, burnt spice mixes and even a few leaves which left them in a state of blissful lethargy. But the real draw was the hard work of the Artists who studied in the College. An assortment of paintings, sculptures and mosaics kept the visitors captivated.

Especially Aliathra whose eyes caught a sculpture that stood by that mesmerizes the men in attendance. A nude woman as the artist intended to be its subject, her long hair brushing leisurely in the back by her slender hands. She was bathing as droplets of water fell down her marble skin from the neck down to her legs. The illusion of water falling was courtesy of a small water sprite that constantly showers the statue in moisture collected from a bucket to be siphoned off to its cloud-like visage before sprinkling it down to the statuesque stunner below.

For the Elven maiden, to see the woman displayed brandish herself so erotically made her feel thoughts of… emancipation. The feeling of being back in control of herself. All those days of Proper Etiquette, Lady Like behavior, pre-determined expectations from the moment her mother conceptualized her in her queenly womb and all of those prying eyes were all forgotten as she saw the fawn-like woman's smile as she let the refreshing waters soothe her inanimate skin.

"Aliathra?" Samantha poked her from behind.

"Ahh!" the Elf jumped.

Her sudden reflexes startled the crowd causing a chain reaction where the man next to her recoiled backward hitting another man, a custodian who was carrying a wooden bucket of green paint to lose his balance and spill onto two other attendees.

"Oh no! I am so sorry." Samantha rushed into apologies.

"Rose? Is that you?" two familiar voices said at the same time.

"Bishop? And… Sandulf? What are you both doing here?" Samantha asked.

She could barely discern the Catholic Priests' balding head and Sandulf's greying mane (now turned jade) from all the paint that covered them. Bishop's glasses had a splotch of green paint on the right-sided lens but he managed to cover the other side in time with a reflex of his hand.

"Wait… you know her Cleric?" Sandulf turned to Bishop.

"Yes, we live together in New Albany and I know almost everyone there. But my God, I need to get these cleaned." Bishop sulked over his half-ruined eyewear.

"But that still doesn't explain what you are doing here." Samantha asked.

"Well for me my child, I am actually helping out building the UFE Exhibit for this event. Did you also happen to know that I used have some friends in the museum business in Madrid in the category of 'Religious Arts'." Bishop said.

"The money I earned from those Elves gave me a lot of things to do lately like actually enjoy the festival. I also volunteered to help cook the food for the Student's supper and I got some time before I am needed back in." Sandulf said.

"I see. Father, what do you mean by 'friends' in a Spanish Museum?" Samantha asked.

"Wait, you are her Parent? Does your God allow his Clerics to have children where you come from?" Sandulf asked.

"No, No, it's just a Title of Respect. Nothing more. As for the friends, I was a restorer and conservationist in the Museo Nacional del Prado in Madrid. They pulled a few strings with my old workplace and they let me display these HD Photos of the exhibits in here." Bishop replied.

"What about the Paint all over you Father Bishop?" Samantha asked.

"Oh, well… I think I can keep this on for a while since it reminds me of my younger days. I can never be mad at you. Go Green Archers! Ha!" Bishop jovially smiled. "Although… there is… was Iris… I just wanted to say… I am sorry for all the… things I said back in Tyr Rian. She really is nothing but help these past months here. Where is she by the way?" Bishop asked.

Samantha turned to both of her shoulders but only Aliathra stood behind her hiding her face in embarrassment.

"I will look for her. It is good to see you both again." Samantha excused herself.

She grabbed Aliathra's hand and they weaved through the crowds of people who piled up all over the exhibits.

"Have you seen where Iris was?" Samantha asked the Elf.

"I think she went over there to the older paintings," Aliathra said.

Samantha followed her directions and sure enough she saw Iris' dark purple dress with her pale white skin glowing amongst the filter of the College's golden interior. She was peering through a large painting of a man and a woman. Its frame was opulent and its grandeur rising up above the ceiling. But contrasting its nobility was its violent scene. To Samantha's horror, the Woman held a hammer, raising it high into the air with one hand and at the bottom, as she can see the painted woman's eyes beaming down onto a man laying sleepily onto the ground with a large nail resting on his head. All held steady by said hammer pounding woman.

"Iris?" Samantha asked.

"Samantha?" Iris turned.

"You ran off." She said.

"Oh, I apologize. I wanted see this painting again for a long time." Iris said. She turned back to the violent canvas. Her eyes glaring with an intense synergy between her and the painting.

"You seem to be quite focused on that." The Lieutenant commented.

"This painting. I know the story." Iris said.

"Oh? Go on." Samantha prompted.

"During the days of Cadell Slaegiac, a woman by the name of Helaine had her entire family murdered by a rival tribe and was said to be forcefully married to one of the rival chief's son who was responsible for killing most of her male family members." Iris foretold. "She organized several of her tribesmen and managed to win the support of the newly established Slaegian Kingdom to overthrew her family's murderers. At first the Slaegians wanted to push her around but Helaine stood firm and demanded among her land being annexed by the Slaegians, and then being allowed to rule over it as a Duke in equal footing to every other Duke in the empire who oversees all the provinces of the Empire, but she also demanded that she to be the one to kill her father and brother's murderer's one by one. The King of the Slaegians at the time was so astonished by her fiery temper that he allowed her that satisfaction."

"A great story. So why do you see yourself a lot in this painting huh?" Samantha asked.

"When I first decided to work with Mirrien as an Enchanter for some of his more…'special' goods. I was still on the run from the Holy Order due to my Vampiric heritage. I felt so helpless when I had to pay for protection from Devicco to keep Inquisitors away from me. Then Devicco tried to accost me with more… egregious demands and that's when I stopped paying for protection as I had enough. And then you came to my home and as you Earthlings would say 'the Rest is History'." Iris said.

"What do you mean by that?" Aliathra asked.

"I helped Iris… permanently… get rid off someone who was extorting her. Let's just say that Tyr Rian is better off with Devicco gone am I right Iris?" Samantha explained.

The Vampire Witch affirmed with tilt of her head.

"This painting reminded me that even I can be powerful when I am cornered." Iris said.

"That is great to hear from you. See Aliathra? This is what a Girl's Night is like. We get to be ourselves for a while." Samantha said to the Elven Princess.

"I understand now." The Elf nodded too.

"So, that nude statue? You took your time seeing it just as much as all the men are. Care to explain?" Samantha asked.

"That Statue is called 'a Bathing Nymph' according to the sculptor who was feeding the water sprite with magic. I… wanted to just spread my arms and just be free." Aliathra said.

"Free? As in not having to behave like a princess?" Samantha said.

"Not completely, I have to behave like everyone else. Not as unbridled as the Nymphs. Just less chained to so many 'traditions' and 'social cues." Aliathra said.

"Oh… so that's why you have been looking at all of those nude statues lately. You are how we called it 'Sheltered'. Makes sense give you are of course well… you know." Samantha said.

"I cannot believe that I am saying this, but I felt 'Free' with you than back at Ethuilen." She confessed. "So, what about you? Did you see any of these works of art that caught your eye?" Aliathra asked.

"It's not a painting nor a statue but a song that I heard from a bard that we passed by. I don't remember well the Lyrics but its about a baby Pegasus who struggled to fly but after practicing he managed to do it and soar."

"Oh, you mean the

"Can you two keep a secret?" Samantha asked.

"I have a fear of not being 'good enough'." Samantha said.

"Not being good enough? But you are the best person I have ever met. Well… other than Kayin and Ser Mirrien." Iris objected.

"That's because I let that fear rule me every day of my life." The Lieutenant confessed. "Normally you're not supposed to let fear take over you but I let it change me, mold me into what I am now. I used to actually be pretty bad at school, then I was bullied because I sucked at sports and not having the latest gadgets since most of our money is used to treat my father for Cancer. But after I followed onto my father's footsteps as so started by my great-great Grandfather, Léo Major who served at World War Two. He as everyone who served afterward wanted to make their family proud of them." Samantha said.

"World War Two? What do you mean by your World as in Earth and then War… and then there are two of them?" Aliathra's eyes asked with dread.

Even Iris also grew pale from that thought and she was already as pale as she is right now. To hear that her world had a war where everyone, every nation participated was the likes of which they never heard of before. Most wars were instigated by the Empire or the Black Tree pact and they were wars of conquest against lesser nations. But they were told beforehand that all of the UFE had similar sizes, technology and know-how so the thought of them fight amongst each other in such a world-spanning share is nigh impossible to imagine.

Samantha was alarmed of herself with the careless slip of the tongue.

"It is… not a proper time to say it but I will assure you that the reason the UFE exists now is that we had to go through those periods several times." Samantha explained.

"You suffered through several of them? Were they like the legends of the Dark Lord Alboen?" Aliathra asked.

"In some ways, yes. But we managed to pick up the pieces and rebuild our tomorrow. As I said, it is because of those World Wars that the United Federation was born from the ashes of there predecessors. You know there is a saying that sometimes something beautiful can come out of something ugly, that is how the You-Eff-Eee was born." She explained.

"I have to confess once more that I further underestimated you Otherworlders." Aliathra humbled herself.

"I know Aliathra. I know." Samantha nodded.

Just then, a ring was heard from Samantha's Pocket. It was from Robert Bianchin. She picked up the phone and answered:

"Lieutenant my dear? How are you? You won't believe what I just did… and don't worry its actually good." Robert Bianchin greeted.

"What is it?" Samantha asked.

"I managed to get you and all the other soldiers with us on this mission to feast with Duke Thibault. He is getting impressed by all of the shit we have been doing both today and earlier." Bobby said.

"Oh? So, no need to pay for some tavern food? Straight from his table?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah! You, Me, Mirrien, your squad and all the others. There's roast pig or I think it looks like a pig… it smells like one." Bobby said.

At the background noise of that call, Samantha can discern the echoes of cheering behind her that perturbed with the Corpo's voice.

"What am I hearing over there? What noise is all of that?" Samantha asked.

"Oh, that's Crocker, he's just killing it with his Exo Suit virtually singlehandedly. Hang on… he is coming back in… remember the Duke's Tent at sunset alright?" Bobby reminded before hanging up.

------------------

"Sergeant! Sergeant! Sergeant!" Bobby fought his way through the human flood of victorious Souvieli Knights.

"Mister Bianchin, I didn't expect you haul yourself here. What's happening?" Crocker asked.

"While you were beating back those Lion-Face warriors from some… desert place I can't remember the name of. Anyways, while you were kicking their asses with reinforced fists, I have been making deals back up on the Duke's Box." Bobby answered.

"What kind of deals?"

"Well outside of the ones of that bet I made drunk I have been pitching the Duke about your suit. I told him that although not magical, you would still think it did. I said that just imagine your Knights duking it out and saving damsels with your gear." Bobby said.

"Your planning to sell Exo Suits to Souviel?" Crocker asked with exclamation.

"If it means he gets to like us then yes. I am trying to get into his good side after all." Bobby replied.

"First of, you are giving advanced Technology to these Natives for what? A paper saying 'peace be with you and me'? Second you know my Hercules suit is from your rival, right?" Crocker asked.

"Okay for the suit, yes I know its Militech's but it doesn't matter on that end since he won't tell the difference anyway. Second, I told him I am a merchant of…'Solutions' when I told him about Aparo Corp and we make stuff that solves problems. Besides would you get mad at the guy who works for the company that practically runs 80% of every Hardware store in the UFE Space huh?" Bobby argued.

"Your 'Solution' could cause more problems than it could solve," Crocker argue back.

"Could! You said 'Could'. keyword, besides we in Aparo Corp have thousands of means of solving any…'anomalous deviations' in our plans. Besides, in same vein to Major Holyfield's Meiji Restoration motif we have decided to take in our own initiative in making this planet more at home, by starting just as the Japanese Emperor did in Westernization, we in Aparo will make the Gliesians go through the Industrial Revolution whether they want to or not. You have to admit it, deep down in your heart, this is inevitable just like all of our History." Bobby lectured.

Lewis was mixed with anger and admissive humility. All of his winnings and all of his performance was all just an unwilling Sales Pitch to advertise a Military Industrial Complex Corporations sales reports. His reasoning was also sound despite the lack of tact and subtlety in his words. The advanced technology the UFE enjoys will spread from word of mouth, heralds and messenger's etcetera through all of the worlds. Many would fear, others would come to examine but for sure it will be soon that all of the world knows the United Federation's name.

"Just be sure those Knights-Errant folks use it for good alright?" Crocker gave his only request as he wiped off the sweat of his brow and bandaged a cut on his arm from a stray spear grazing past him from the Lion Warriors that he had jostled earlier.

He for at least the shortest while got to know these Knights Errant of Souviel, despite there pompous demeanor with colorful armors and showmanship they are still trained soldiers beneath there dolly appearance who also were sworn to protect their homeland, who is he to judge if they dress at the same time as Renaissance Fair cosplayers if the people see them as essentially their local law enforcers?

"Speaking about all of those, I also have to issue a warning." Bobby discreetly shifted his voice lower by sitting down on the bench next to the burly Cockney.

"What did you find out?" Crocker asked.

"Not me but have you ever wondered where your teammates Corporal Edward Clay and that Hillbilly guy with the beard is?" Bobby asked.

"You mean Obediah. I assume they are just enjoying there day off." Crocker answered.

"That is where you are wrong. Me and a State Security agent have been very observant lately about the behavior of the people around us and we have reasons to believe that they might try to harm our Delegation." Bobby answered.

"Cut to the chase guv. What do I need to look out for?" Crocker asked.

"You are at the Finals now and the last opponents before you can drink that sweet victory are the Elves. The State Sec agent have a working theory that some or perhaps even all of the Elves are working for the Elven Sefydliad. They might try to 'expose' you as a Demon and they may try to use cheats to make sure they can. Be warned of any magical shit they might pull. I heard they can be crafty if you let them run amok on their own. See if you can spot any of them doing this." Bianchin said.

The Corpo gestured his right hand with its ring finger tucked down by his thumb only leaving his pinkie, middle finger and index finger raised up. It reminded Crocker of the Catholic Trinity gesture that he catches Father Bishop wave around every time he blesses anything or anyone.

"Doctor Mahelona, and yes he is involved in this and may I inform you he has been detailing a lot of things about the Natives in remarkable details… but I digress. This Gesture is used by Elven mages to better channel their innate magic thing… or whatever… I don't know other than it makes them shoot stuff from there hands more efficiently, ask your Elf Princess when you see her again when this is over."

"I understand thank you for the warning. I will do my best with my team to fight off these Elves." Crocker nodded before he got back to diagnosing any damages to his suit.

But Bobby lightly slapped Crocker on his shoulder with an alarming concern.

"Do not give me your best. I need you to WIN this not for yourself and the Knights Errant but if you lose to those Elves my credibility is off." Bobby said.

"Credibility?" Crocker twitched up his eyebrows.

"He says I have been 'offering him the stars' and he doesn't believe me until I can fully demonstrate our power to trump against all odds. I may be overdoing it but as Don Aparo would say, 'Blessed are the Risktakers, for if there are none in this world, the world will still be in the Stone Ages'." Bobby said.

"Are you saying that if I don't win, we can kiss all we done for the Duke goodbye?" Crocker asked.

The Corpo only nodded silently confirming Crocker's fears.

"God fucking damn it all." Crocker sulked.

He just wanted to have some fun and he didn't care about losing just the thrill of letting of some Steam was all the pleasure he needed. But now, the Stakes were bet upwards by the powers that be. Win and the UFE's best interest, his Mandate will be pushed forward. Lose and its back to square one at best, a war against the Natives at worst.

Just as Crocker riddled himself in pre-fight anxiety, Bobby's phone rang.

"Talk to me? What? Diaz? Rioting? Where? Race? Shit! I am coming!" Bobby's usually slick diplomatic demeanor turned into cold sweat as the words came from out of his phone's call.

"What? Was it?" Crocker stood up from the bench to ask.

"Less asking, more doing! Above all else, kick those elitist pricks with the Hercules Suit for me and it should all be good. I need to find that Dwarf Lutheor right now." Bobby hurried off.

Meanwhile, at the Elven corner in the fighting pits:

The Elven Fighting Tournament team nodded in agreement when Brenyra confirmed their suspicion of the upstart exotic warrior fighting on the same side as the Souvieli Knights-Errant. The inhuman strength and speed were unheard of any ordinary human to display. Then came Brenyra and a few other of her colleagues and explained to them that the exotic warrior in the worst excuse of an 'Armor' in all of the blacksmithing and engineering design is actually the work of something far more sinister. A Demon dressed to be like the shape of a human, infiltrating the Empire and by default their ally and making Demonic Deals with the nobles to offer the power in exchange for their allegiances.

"Take these rings and place them either on your mage hand, do it quietly." Brenyra instructed the Elven Fighters.

By close examination, the Elves with there arcane attuned physiology could sense magic of a more affixed variety. There was a specific signal of Mana resonating within these rings.

"What are these exactly?" the Team Mage inquired.

"Rings of Radiancy, courtesy from the Cult of Thidar the God of Virtue. Make sure you pick your time to strike when the 'Strange Warrior' that the Souviel Knights have is showing his Demon Powers in his guise. Then expose him to Holy Magic so we can show that they are nobody else but Demons. The Duke will surely see reason and back out from there Demonic contract signings." Brenyra said.

"What about the other ones? Surely that the Otherworlder he came with will make a move once we know we are on to them." the Elven Mage raised.

"Do not worry, one of my colleagues is meeting up with someone from inside the Duke's Court and the single Grey Order Office in the Duchy to take care of the matter. Just focus on taking down this one Demon and if we need you again for more help then be ready to answer." Brenyra said.

The Ethuilen team complied discreetly. They were a collection of some of the finest fencers and combat magicians in all of their nation, all assembled at Souviel for one purpose, for there Gods, King and Country. If the Standing Army and Navy were the twin hands of True Elven power in Gliesia then the eyes, ears, and nose of the Ethuilen Entente were the Sefydliad. Their institution was responsible for growing, solidifying and protecting their nation's interests across the whole world is what made the Entente, the Entente. Deep connections to many mercantile guilds, other civilizations and a vast amount of influence over the Magical and Arcane studies ensure that the Elves always stay on top of what they do best ever since the time of the first Demonic Invasion, protecting the world from those who seek its ravishment.

They all nodded and took the Holy Pendants of Ghannae the Goddess of Justice and Wisdom, also known in the Human interpretation of the pantheon to be the just Ghana the Goddess of the Hearth.

They need to be subtle with taking down this demon and worst-case scenario they have to force a public exposition of this vile creature spreading its subversive lies and seductive promises to the land for all to see. And maybe then after they defeat him, all of the worlds will unite once more to send back the Otherworlders to whence they came.

Besides, a Sefydliad is never wrong with their deductions, aren't they?