“Now, you have three apples. When I take one, how many apples are left?” Wolf asked his one-year-old daughter. The girl stared at him, concentrating. She frowned.

“Want apple.” She reached for the snatched apple, but Wolf pushed one of the remaining two into her hand.

She threw it and cried.

“My apple!” Sky grasped towards the apple Wolf had taken.

“No! This is my apple.” Wolf laughed, then bit into the juicy fruit. “Phee?”

“Wah! Wah! Mommy! Daddy took apple!” Sky requested reinforcements.

“Wolf! What are you doing? Did you make Sky cry again?” Mandy was beside them in an instant, chiding her husband and upholding justice.

“She needs to toughen up and fight for what she wants—”

“She’s fifteen months old!” Mandy bonked him with a baguette. “Come to Mommy dear, time for your snack.”

Sky got up, dexterously circling around Wolf before running into her mother’s protective embrace. Then she snatched the bread and smacked her dad on the head.

“Ble!” She stuck out her tongue and dashed out of the room.

“Sky! Get back here. You can’t hit your daddy!” Mandy chased after her, leaving Wolf with crumbs in his hair, and a bitten apple in his giant hand.

He put the succulent fruit into his mouth, tousled his mane to rid himself of crumbs, then followed the two most important women in his life. He stiffened mid-step as he received a Commune.

Lord of Death, your presence is required. Come to the main administrative building at once. This is an Imperial decree. Failure to comply constitutes high treason. Headmaster Smith’s serious voice echoed in his mind.

“Are you unwell, dear?” Mandy popped her head into the room to check why Wolf didn’t continue with their silly game.

“I have a meeting to attend.” Wolf sighed. It was bound to happen, I guess. I just wish we had more time before the incursion started.

He left his fancy flat at the Mage Academy’s administrators’ block and headed towards Headmaster Smith’s office. My future office? I can understand why the old kook is so eager to leave. He’s been stuck here for ages, but it doesn’t matter much to me. I’ve hardly left the campus ever since I helped Wayde become Duke Northshield. Sky has everything she needs in Silver City, and, thanks to my status, merchants deliver whatever we need right to our doorstep. I wonder if Roger could somehow monetize deliveries?

Wolf smiled while walking. Makes me appreciate Dad’s effort more. Raising me alone in the wilderness, constantly traveling… Must have been nerve-racking.

Wolf entered the main administrative building, where the scarred Chief of Security and his elites greeted him.

“Good day, Sir.” The retired general half-bowed with superhuman precision. “Headmaster is expecting you in the conference room. Please follow me.”

The man nodded to his subordinate and led the way for Wolf. Wolf recognized the fellow. He escorted him to prison ages ago. Wolf wanted to spark a conversation; soon, this veteran would be his direct subordinate. Mandy suggested discussing the weather and passing of seasons were safe subjects, while economical ones such as market prices could be in poor taste, unless the other party was insensitive and brought it up first.

“Lots of sun lately?” Wolf tried, but the Chief of Security smashed apart his attempt with terrifying proficiency at terminating conversations.

“Yes, Sir,” he said. And so they reached the meeting room in silence.

“Here you are, Sir.” Jonatan half-bowed, trying his best not to leave any impressions on Wolf.

He regretted the fact he escorted him in person years ago. It was impossible not to have an opinion on the man who shipped you to prison. Still, Jonatan tried not to be memorable. The retired general opened the door for Wolf and left.

“Come and sit, Lord of Death.” Headmaster Smith invited him.

The joking, crazy old man was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating marshal ready to deploy his troops.

Wolf walked into the room, seeing seventeen people gathered. He recognized Headmaster Smith, Richard and Lord of Rain, a woman in her sixties. Others were First Order True-Namers, their Mage Orders close to Richard’s.

We have Lords of Flame, Wheel, Honey, Torsion, Mist… Wolf wondered who’s who, but he believed Headmaster Smith would introduce everyone once the meeting started.

“We’re still waiting for three True-Namers from the ducal palace. Once they arrive, I will explain the situation and lay out my plan,” Headmaster Smith repeated himself for the tenth time.

Just as Headmaster Smith said, after the three court Mages arrived, he started the meeting.

“Silverhound duchy used to rank eight amongst twelve duchies of our empire. However, thanks to Marquess Hillman, we now rank second.” While Headmaster Smith spoke, Scribing Quills scratched furiously on the giant vellum map behind him, listing troop deployment details from Silverhound’s ten thousand baronies.

The gathered elderly nobles applauded, surprising Wolf. Then he realized what was happening. The stronger I am, the safer our duchy. If I told them I have reached the Third Order without the Hall of Names, they would probably send another batch of gifts for Sky…

However, Wolf didn’t expose their thoughts. He smiled and nodded, acknowledging their sycophancy and support of their superiors.

Is this how the old loon feels all the time? Wolf glanced at Headmaster Smith, but there was no reading the ancient man’s expression.

After giving three seconds for the crowd to demonstrate their flimsy, undying loyalty, Headmaster Smith motioned everyone to stop clapping. “While his presence reduces our risks, we should stay vigilant. You will be stationed in cities or large towns whose protection is paramount to our prosperity. Common troops led by Sixth, Seventh and Eight Order Mages are scattered around the countryside, tasked with sending distress signals and reporting their status.”

Headmaster Smith paused. “As some of you know, in case a status report doesn’t arrive, we treat it as demons destroying our outpost. Regardless of reason, if a Mage fails to report that everything is fine, they are to be destroyed on the spot by the True-Namer handling the incident. Ninth and Tenth Order Mages supervise larger settlements. However, the same rule applies to them, except they retain the legal right to a trial to determine their guilt.”

Headmaster Smith glanced at Wolf, then looked the gathered men and women in the eye. “The following intelligence is confidential, breaking secrecy will result in capital punishment for everyone save Lord of Death, who will be imprisoned within Highseat’s True-Namer ward and branded a slave. I would prefer to stay silent, but because of my contract, I must share this information, in case anything happens to me.”

Headmaster Smith breathed in, displaying his unwillingness. “I have made an exception to Mage stationing rule, evoking my right in the interest of humanity. During this incursion, Matilda Thonburi will remain in Highseat, as I suspect she is this era’s Maiden of Slaughter.”

Several people gasped, including court Mages, but Wolf and the rest stared blankly. Richard was the only one aware of Headmaster Smith’s actions.

“Lord of Gravel shares my opinion, but we dare not divine it. Thus, no harm is to befall house Thonburi. You must risk your lives to protect their interests, lands and subjects, lest we incidentally incur Maiden of Slaughter’s wrath.”

Wolf and ten others wanted to inquire about Maiden of Slaughter, but Headmaster Smith shut them up with a glance. “Richard compiled a relevant document. He will distribute copies after the meeting.

“Now, we have retired True-Namers, but those…” Children. Wolf was certain Lord of Steel wanted to say ‘children’. “… people are frail and sending them into action would kill them. Most have already served during one incursion, performing their duty. So we won’t mobilize them unless things grow dire.”

Headmaster Smith cleared his throat and shot Wolf a look. “We must pay attention to our borders. The border with the Beast-lands is heavily manned, as always. But, more importantly, the border with Northshield also needs constant monitoring. Because of this century’s unrest, they are by far the weakest duchy. We have twenty-one people here, they have ten. It’s highly likely they will struggle, and demons might invade us from the north-west.”

Headmaster Smith paused, and his expression turned grim. “Some of you will die. Even with all your power, prowess and intelligence, this time next year we will miss at least two of you. That’s what history tells us. We’ve had instances of duchies losing ten True-Namers to incursions, and Headmasters had to leave their assigned capital to prevent a massacre. It’s a shallow consolation to those who lose their lives, but we will forge a pact stating that survivors will support the lands and families of those who perished until the next incursion.”

Headmaster Smith cleared his throat, recalling friends who left never to return, and the Scribing Quills behind his back scratched to a halt. “You may now read the document behind me. Commit everything to memory. The ink will evaporate in half an hour.”