The conversation between the outlanders turned grim for a short time before everyone let out a collective sigh.

“Good plan,” Cruz raised a thumb of approval. “I especially like the part when the two of you willingly walk into the lion’s den.”

“It can’t be helped,” Osmond shrugged. “You can’t just ask a man like this Felix fellow to come to you for a meeting. If we did that, it would immediately spark wariness. He knows Regis, so it’s better to go there. He could leverage his position as a lord if someone asks why he brought Quentin along.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Letty looked at the dark elf worried.

“He’s the highest-ranked figure I can reach without gaining too much attention. However, if this fails and we don’t come back in three hours at most, then...”

“We pack up everything and everyone and leave this place,” Fabien stated, earning a raised eyebrow from the group. “Natalie might be a bitch, but she’s a bitch with some brain and good survival instincts. If she and her gang fled to Menelrond, then that’s our second-best option as well.”

“What’s the first best option?” Mary asked puzzled.

“Regis and Quentin succeeding?” Fabien answered with an unsure tone and a failing poker face, earning a laugh from everyone present.

“In that case, let’s hope that plan ‘A’ will succeed without a hitch.” Quentin remarked as he stood up.

“You’re going right now?” Valerie asked surprised by the man’s movements.

“The sooner we get things done the better.”

“Agreed,” the dark elf stood up as well. “Someone should talk to Grego while we’re away.”

“I’ll do it,” Osmond offered. “We already made escape plans in case the succession war would end badly for us. They should work in this scenario as well.”

“Alright. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

As the group stood up to disperse, Letty gave Regis a good luck kiss before the dark elf and the paladin made their way over to the room that held his personal gateway. Its runes lit up, teleporting them to the spellcasters’ guild of Atraune.

“Welcome,” a cheery voice greeted them as the light of the gateway faded. “How can I help you?”

“Greetings,” the dark elf smiled as he looked at the young mage apprentice behind the reception desk. “Could you tell me if Master Felix is here at the moment?”

“Yes, sir. The grandmaster is at his office.”

“I see. Could you inform him that Regis Thorne is here to see him?”

“Of course.” The apprentice nodded before placing her hand on a rune-carved crystal ball the size of a grapefruit.

The runes lit up with a gentle green colour, shifting in different hues of green for a few seconds before dying out once again.

“The Grandmaster is expecting you in his office.” The young woman said with a slight blush as she tried not to stare too obviously at the two men.

“Thank you, miss.” Quentin replied as he gestured for Regis to show the way.

When they were far enough for her to hear it, the paladin couldn’t stop himself from making a slight remark.

“Is it just me or did she seem nervous to you as well?”

“I tend to have that effect on women and you’re not bad-looking yourself so...”

“Oh,” Quentin stopped for a split second. “Was it that kind of nervousness?”

“Don’t tell me you never had younger girls fawning over you in your school days.”

“That’d been what, two decades or so? Most people would become nervous around me because I was a cop after that.”

“Who wouldn’t be nervous around the police?”

“People with nothing to hide?” The paladin noted.

“Everyone’s got something to hide, Quentin. Here we are.”

Regis gently knocked on the door, earning a response in an aged voice.

“Come in!”

The dark elf opened the door, finding the aged spellcaster behind his desk, dozens of official-looking scrolls piled up in front of the man.

“Greetings, Master Felix and sorry for visiting without notice.”

“Don’t worry about it young friend,” the man said as he waved them closer. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“I do,” he nodded, turning toward the paladin. “Allow me to introduce my knight commander, Quentin Bailey.”

“I remember,” the old man sighed. “We briefly met at the lords’ gathering.”

“We did.” Quentin nodded.

“So what do I owe this visit?”

“Well,” the loremaster sighed as he walked closer. “I have received troublesome news from a pretty reliable source and to be honest, I’m quite troubled by it.”

“Bad news,” Felix sighed deeply. “We had quite a few of those circling lately. What is this one about?”

“Enemies,” Regis said as he stepped closer again, nodding at Quentin. “And because of that, I can only hope you’ll forgive my rudeness.”

As he said those words, the familiar circle of light floated out from beneath the paladin, engulfing the three of them.

“Wha...”

“Are you in any way compliant with demons or members of the Exiled Court?” Quentin asked.

“No,” Felix answered immediately. “What is going on here?”

“Have you made any deals or were influenced to comply with the Argent family, the Exiled Court or King Mikkel the Second?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I did no such thing,” the man responded. “Regis, what is the meaning of this?”

“One last question and I’ll explain it.” The dark elf promised.

“Are you in any way, knowingly or unconsciously being manipulated through any means?”

“No, I am not.” The greyish-white-haired elder said with increasing annoyance and anger.

The light of the truth secret domain faded and Quentin let out a relieved sigh.

“My apologies for the sudden integration,” Regis said as he slumped into the nearby chair. “But we had to be sure that you are not compromised.”

“Compromised? By whom, demons? Even the suggestion is...” The man tried to express his anger, but the loremaster raised his hand to stop Felix’s ranting.

“The king had been compromised.” He stated, the news bomb forcing the old spellcaster’s jaw to drop.

“Impossible. There’s no way such a thing would occur. Even suggesting it could get you to be named an enemy of Ecragurne.”

“I truly wish you were right.” Regis said, spending the next ten minutes recalling the visit of Natalie and her brother.

By the end of the explanation, Felix was more nervous than angry. A rare switch from a man of his position and temperament.

“I knew something was strange, but this... this is truly worrisome. How reliable do you believe the information to be? And this Natalie? Could she have been trying to play a trick on you?”

“Not unless she had a way of circumventing my ‘truth seeker’ domain,” Quentin stated. “Even Regis said that such methods are far beyond the likes of her.”

“Indeed,” Felix nodded, visibly seeming older and more tired after hearing about the matter with the Argents. “Only fifth-tier and above enchantments could protect one from divine power ensured interrogation. I doubt any such relics have survived from the past ages. Still, to think that all of this was the machinations of demon worshippers.”

“I hope you now understand why we had to be so cautious. If there’s indeed any truth to this information...”

“Then not only our kingdom but the entire continent is in grave danger,” Felix finished the thought as he reached toward the rune-carved crystal ball on his desk. “Forgive me for asking you this, but I need you to interrogate my assistant as well.”

Saying that, the runes of the crystal ball lit up beneath his touch. Once the light died out again, the dark elf finally spoke his mind.

“You want us to interrogate Cedric?”

“Yes,” Felix agreed. “Whatever I don’t do personally goes through his hands first. Whenever I need someone summoned, he’s the one to go for them in my stead. I need to know if I can trust him.”

“I... I understand.” The loremaster nodded along with the paladin.

After a strained minute or two, a gentle knock could be heard from the door before a familiar-looking man entered.

“Lord Regis,” Cedric greeted him with a friendly smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has.” the loremaster nodded in agreement. “This is my knight commander, Quentin Bailey.”

“Sir Quentin.” The spellcaster greeted him with a handshake.

“I asked you here because Sir Quentin has a few questions for you.” Felix said as the light of the truth seeker domain appeared again, surrounding the group.

“Wha…”

“Are you in any way compliant with demons or members of the Exiled Court?” Quentin asked.

“No,” Cedric answered immediately. “Master, what’s this...”

“Have you made any deals or were influenced to comply with the Argent family, the Exiled Court or King Mikkel the Second?”

“Of course not,” the spellcaster replied. “I only serve Master Felix and Atraune’s guild.”

“Are you in any way, knowingly or unconsciously being manipulated through any means?”

“No, I am not.” Cedric stated with an obvious frustration as the light faded.

“I’m sorry, Cedric,” the aged grandmaster apologised. “But I asked them to question you, due to some ill news young Regis brought to my attention.”

Master Felix then briefly explained the situation to his assistant, the man’s face turning paler with every passing minute. By the time the explanation was over, Cedric was as pallid as a sheet of paper.

“This is impossible,” the man said exasperated. “Even if the Exiled Court did aid his majesty from behind the scenes, they would be unable to influence him through dark magic. There are too many protections in place. Too many people of power to notice if something was wrong.”

“Can you honestly say with complete certainty that it’s impossible?” Regis asked, earning a slight head shake.

“No, but if something like that truly happened, the people of the clergy would have noticed it immediately.”

“Unless they have something to mask their influence.” Quentin remarked.

“An artefact?” Cedric considered with Master Felix nodding along.

“It is easier to hide the traces of dark magic, rather than directly negate the power of one’s ‘truth seeker’ domain.”

“If the court indeed had such an item of power then we could only discover it by directly asking King Mikkel. Doing so, however, would risk a public fallout between the nobility and the clergy.”

“We’ll have to tread carefully unless we want to cause another war.”

“Cedric,” the aged grandmaster sighed. “I need you to go to the Temple of the Seven and talk to bishop Emil. Tell him that one of our apprentices had discovered a rare religious text during their outings.”

“Understood,” Cedric nodded as he got to his feet, heading toward the door. “We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“A secret code?” The dark elf looked at the old spellcaster.

“Emil and I came up with it decades ago. For anyone else, it sounds like a plausible reason for him to visit me. But for him, it means that something had gone very wrong and I need his help.”

“Smart move.” The paladin praised.

“Our positions require certain necessary safeguards in order to protect our people.”

“What about the civilians?” Quentin asked. “Who will protect them if another war breaks out because of this mess?”

“I am not sure if we can protect them,” Felix sighed. “The matter of an archdemon is far too big for us to cover up. If the king is under the Exiled Court’s influence, then we’ll have no choice but to dethrone him.”

“Good luck with that.” Regis noted while unceremoniously picking out a book from the grandmaster’s shelf.

“It is not the first time the people of Ecragurne had to deal with an archdemon. Two hundred years ago the kings of that era led a crusade against one that was summoned at the mountains of Harmarond.”

“How did it end?” Quentin inquired.

“Sadly, they only caught wind of the creature weeks after it was summoned, allowing it to regain its full strength and gather its armies. Thousands died in the battle before they could banish the demon, including three of the famous fourth-tier heroes of the era.”

“Then let’s hope that we can stop the thing from setting foot on the continent because as far as I know, we don’t even have a single fourth tier in the kingdom.” The dark elf said as he put back the book after seeing that it held little more than elementary knowledge.

“We don’t. King Mikkel and his predecessors made sure of that.”

“What do you mean?” The paladin couldn’t stop himself from interrogating the old man.

“Peace is a strong restraint for growth,” the aged spellcaster explained. “He made sure that no lord would be able to amass more than twenty shardwakers of the same kind above the common classes. If they did, it had to be done in great secrecy or the royal army would have found out. Those that bear ordinary callings grow slowly and would not be worth the trouble of nurturing. They also ensured that peace would reign across the kingdoms, nipping most troubles at the roots to prevent any in-fighting and pointless bloodshed that could lead to the first growth of shardwakers. The kingdoms all agreed that none would raise fourth-tier or above shardwakers.”

“In other words, they did a proper job as a king to keep the peace while keeping each other from raising nukes.” Quentin quipped in with a smirk.

“That’s not as good as you make it sound,” the dark elf said with a grim tone. “Back on Earth, it might have been good to have a constant and relative peace because we had technology that would allow for mass destruction but in a world of magic like this one, conflict and bloodshed are sad necessities.”

“Indeed,” Felix nodded with a tired sigh. “Not counting the occasional bandits, monsters and wild beasts, there is little else one could rely on to gain Amaranth.”