Being a robot in what is essentially a fantasy setting, one tends to forget about things like potions and healing magic. Commander Rook was in a pretty messed up state but after a couple of potions that were recovered from the guard station, she was looking nearly good as new. Some scars remained and the process of healing via the potions actually looked painful, but when it was done, I couldn’t argue with the results.

I wouldn’t mind conducting some experiments to learn what processes were actually happening. I suspected that something was putting the body’s natural healing systems into overdrive. It made me wonder if there were cases where trying to forcibly heal someone ended up killing them, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

Rook drew out a map and handed it off to one of her subordinates. The soldier loaded up with what supplies she could manage and headed out with Professor Rechts and the kids. I would have liked for more protection to go with them but every soldier there was fired up about going after the Marquis and saving Prince Milliardo. I'd have to settle for sending the insecticon team with them, though KickBack was pretty upset by what had happened to Carnivac. I'd have to give a long think about what had happened there, but it wasn't the time. The revelation that Jhiax and his dragon had somehow hijacked my backup body was also weighing pretty heavily on my mind. It made me wonder if they were somehow suppressing the mind of every Automata that they infected and forcibly making them into something like my proxies, though with more limited control.

We headed back up the stairs, catching the small team of Marquis forces in the Security offices by surprise; which surprised me. I would have thought that a location capable of monitoring the palace would also be monitoring the dungeons but maybe the ones left there were just bad at it.

Rook pulled a dead dwarf in black and red off of a control console and placed her palms on a pair of embedded crystals. What I mistook for a small table with a black sandpit came to life as the sand lifted up to form a 3D model of the palace with little black sand people walking around it.

“Where’s my brother being held? The north tower?” Lena asked, looking at the sand model with her arms folded and gently nibbling at the tip of her thumb.

“Just a moment, your highness,” Rook said, making some adjustments to her grip.

I wondered if this system was more efficient using the sand rather than using an illusion stone. Could I make an arcade unit with this? I’d likely attempt to put Tetris on it if left alone for too long.

The view in the model changed as the sand palace rotated around and zoomed in on one of the towers, then through the walls until we could see inside and were virtually traveling up the floors. Near the ground floor we could see a crowd of figures in a formation around some others, moving out of the tower.

“Your Highness, it looks like they are moving his Majesty out of the tower now... Princess, it’s nearly dawn,” Rook said with a worried look.

Lena didn’t wait for anyone and just took off running out of the room. I chased after her, easily keeping up, but I noticed that the rest of the soldiers were left in the dust. I was sure that Dash would normally be able to keep up with the Princess sprinting at full speed for a bit, but at this point she was probably exhausted.

We streaked past groups of soldiers, going over, around, and through them without sparing a thought for stealth. Most of them were left confused, though a few lost their heads as Lena crashed through them. We made our way to the outer walls, leaping up and onto the higher levels. Deep within the palace complex, surrounded by another set of inner walls, Lena led me to the imperial parade grounds.

Archers were positioned on the inner wall, prepared to defend against anything that might try to fly over the balustrade, but Lena launched herself up from below, smacking both of them with ice attacks before smashing one and hurling the other over the edge.

Lena finally stopped moving at the top of a rampart, looking out over the parade grounds. A small crowd of, presumably, nobles were gathering in the viewing boxes. On the grounds, several formations of black clad soldiers flanked the field. In the center of the grounds, the above-ground portion of a privy had been brought out and decorated with Milliardo’s personal banner.

A squad of soldiers entered the grounds from a far gate, pushing along a stumbling and broken looking group of figures. Lena whimpered and I gently rested a hand on her shoulder. Her brother, Milliardo was among the prisoners. He looked like he’d been tortured and beaten all night long. The rest of the prisoners looked to be ranking nobles that had supported the Prince. Each of them had heavy shackles as well as a glowing collar that looked like the mana-draining collar that had been put onto Lena.

The soldiers led Milliardo to the privy and sat him down. The rest of the prisoners were shoved down to their knees behind him. Nothing else happened and those in the viewing boxes started to mutter amongst themselves. I looked around the grounds and spotted the Marquis standing on a makeshift dais above a random section of wall. He just stood there looking stoic, waiting for something.

Little by little as the new sun rose, light crept over the wall and into the parade ground. As it did so, the morning light cast over the Marquis, backlighting him and throwing his shadow across the field. Say what you would about the man, but he certainly had a flair for theatrics.

Lena tensed and was about to rush in, but I gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“You can’t take on everyone there at once and also keep Milliardo safe,” I cautioned. “Look for the best opportunity as well as to let your forces catch up to us.”

She nodded and clenched her fists but said nothing.

“Milliardo,” the Marquis opened, “Heir Apparent, and Crown Prince of the empire of Fangwell. If only that were true, we would have no need for this thoughtless conflict. You are at best a lower Prince riding the coattails of an illegitimate Emperor that usurped the throne from our one, true, monarch. My father was the eldest, the throne was his birthright but it was stolen away by that bastard son, Neugdae. Today we will correct that grievous error and return the empire to her rightful ruler.

“As much as I would like to simply kill you and remove your stain from our history, the people would not agree to that. Such an act would become a blemish so we must do things properly. Honored guests and dear friends of the court, do I have your support in my claim to the throne?”

There were a couple of enthusiastic responses and a lot more half-hearted agreements that might have been under duress. Marquis LeCreuset didn’t look like he cared one way or the other how people actually responded to his question.

“The validity of my claim has been recognized,” LeCreuset continued, “as such, I Marquis Rau LeCreuset Du Fangwell hereby challenge Milliardo Peacecraft Du Fangwell for the Right of Succession.”

LeCreuset stepped down from his staged platform and casually sauntered his way over to Milliardo. Lena pulled off the rose themed chest plate she’d been wearing and opened up her blouse. Thoughts of her usual embarrassment were apparently vacant. She dropped her [Cloak] illusion and the panels in her chest opened up to expose her spark chamber as well as the crystal port that had her illusion crystal installed. She then spread her arms to the side and opened up the crystal chambers located along their length as well.

“Quickly,” she demanded, “exchange all the crystals for geomancy ones-- No wait, geomancy in the arms and a force crystal in the chest.”

“Just a single force crystal won’t let you do much,” I warned as I set about swapping out the ice crystals.

“That’s fine, I just want to control the environment.”

“Ah, friction control? Clever girl.”

She blushed a bit and gave me a slight smile, then looked away as I installed the last crystal into her chest. She then turned away from me before closing the panels back up, fixing her blouse and replacing the plate armor. With her back turned, I gently touched a braid running down her back and topped off her mana.

The Marquis stood in front of Milliardo, looking at him with the same sort of expression that one might make when they find something bad in the fridge. Milliardo didn’t have much left in him, but he managed a defiant glare. LeCreuset made a flicking gesture and one of the soldiers removed the collar and chains from Milliardo.

I knew that Milliardo could do some healing magic and assumed that he knew offensive magic as well. The torture, beating, and collar were probably all for the sake of limiting what he would be able to do in this duel. LeCreuset easily had a head and a half over Milliardo, was powerfully built, and armored like a tank; but clearly didn’t want to take any chances. I guessed that Milliardo would be left with just enough mana to be able to heal himself at the start or to try to get an attack spell off, but not both. Either would be a desperate and pointless move so that LeCreuset could see Milliardo struggle before killing him.

LeCreuset held a hand out to the side and a soldier stepped forward holding a cloth-wrapped bundle. The Marquis took the bundle from her as others stepped forward and placed an assortment of different weapons in front of Milliardo. LeCreuset unwrapped the bundle to reveal the wicked looking demon blade that I’d seen at the side of the former Emperor.

He looked over the weapon, turning it in his hands, before throwing it onto the ground in disgust. Milliardo’s eyes flicked to the sword but he didn’t betray any emotion one way or the other at his father’s blade being treated in such a manner.

“As I have issued the challenge, you may have first choice of weapon,” LeCreuset offered, looking rather smug about it.

Lena power jumped off of the wall, shattering some of the stone work and propelling herself over the crowd to land near the center of the parade grounds. She hit the ground, creating a small crater and kicking up a spray of dirt and sod that rained down on the Marquis and his men.

I mentally sighed and went after her using a burst to clear the distance and my boot jets to slow me down enough to land calmly. I noticed the corners of Milliardo’s mouth twitch into almost a smile.

“Well if it isn’t the wayward Princess-- I mean the fake Princess,” LeCreuset taunted. “Stay put, I’ll deal with you soon enough.”

Milliardo cast [Heal] on himself and stood up, looking more confident with each passing second. He even managed to squeeze out a bit more mana to invoke [Refresh] as he ran a hand through his long silvery hair, flipping it over his shoulder. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see ethereal roses appear behind him.

“For my weapon, I will choose the Automata--,” he started.

“Me. I shall be his weapon,” Lena declared, before Milliardo could actually name his choice.