Rikuto wipes sweat off of his brow as he surveys the current progress evacuating a village about three kilometers from Heralesse’s staging area. They had to abandon the direct assault on the fire due to his own mana being drained, the fire-fighting equipment and spells from the handful of mages they were able to bring being ineffective, and the slow, unstoppable force of nature that the fire is.

  He knows the clock is ticking. If the downward direction of the mana fire compromises the surface of this planet’s mantle, it won’t matter how fast the fire spreads. The absolutely apocalyptic eruption of the mantle that would occur would almost certainly kill most, if not all, life on the planet within moments, and the ensuing poison gases, sun-blocking dust clouds, and temperature changes would make the world uninhabitable for a long time.

  A typical volcanic eruption still has to contend with the weight of the planet’s crust to keep the mantle’s pressure contained, and is instigated primarily by tectonic activity that creates gaps or thin spots in the crust or pressurizes mantle or crust material into magma pockets that are eventually ‘vented’ via either the dramatic explosion or a slow, boiling ooze. The mana fire is simply removing a large swath of that weight over the mantle. Even if they defeat the fire in time, there’s a very high chance a volcano will eventually form in this area, depending on how thick the crust actually is on the continent where they are, and the damage done to the layers of rock underneath.

  Rikuto isn’t a geologist or even a hobbyist volcano expert, but he did once go down a rabbit hole on the internet about this exact topic, since he was curious after one of his routine classes in high school. Volcanoes themselves pale in comparison to the primordial forces of nature that cause them.

  The young Japanese king looks at one of his few assets in this fight. Gunther Montarre, son of the Earl of the Montarre household, is one of the last non-comatose magic artisans available to the Mornistae Kingdom.

  Or rather, he’s the only person who has experience in Magic artisanry. His position in the Royal Court is still a mid-rank mage, primarily as an officer for the military, since the Montarre family boasts a rather long lineage of loyal service and particularly potent magical potential for humans. The problem is that he has very little ability to synthesize knowledge because he is inexperienced. His connections granted him the position, and his loyal service when called upon for the Divine Summoning ritual the second time around, when Zuzia was summoned, made it impossible to simply snub him for his selfish, rather malicious behavior during the duel with Daniel. Though formally, Gunther won the duel, his display is quietly regarded as lazy, unimaginative, and lacking the spark of creation Magic Artisans thrive on, even if one ignores or cares not for his design simply being a copy of what he thought made the simply pitcher-style hand pump work in town, which Daniel made from simple mechanical parts.

  The young Earl’s son is currently giving out instructions to the teams dismantling the water tankards. Most people know the basics of how they work, but didn’t want to anger Aramellianna, since the design was held to be strictly proprietary to the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy. Naturally, such agreements are far more dubious with their formal secession from the Kingdom and alliance with or even accession into the Fievegal, which was strong-armed into being at the Peace Conference, legally avoiding calls for treason against the Stalvaltan house. Normally, it would be annexation, but because Aramellianna was already maneuvering willingly to join the Fievegal, Daniel including that into the agreement was just a legal protection for the Grand Duchy’s reputation, since the only other recourse for such a powerful territory that was acting against the Kingdom would have been the pursuit of independence.

  Regardless, it’s no time to worry about the mercantile and political violations if Gunther can make use of the components, which undoubtedly includes large synthetic diamonds as magic crystals, they may be able to make something that can at least boost Rikuto’s ability to hold the flames back, if not stand alone devices to prevent further spread, which then need to be manufactured as quickly as possible.

  From what he’s seeing, though, Gunther is far outside of his element. Count Baumalde and Ahok, aside from the obvious Wenlianna, were the true artisans the Royal Court could rely on, but Ahok was sent with the void artilleries to attack Fort Twilight, and Baumalde seems to have defected to Grand Prince Yaulander’s faction.

  Everything was perfect for so long. Why did it all have to become so chaotic? It hasn’t even been two years on this world…

  Rikuto asks Chebnom, who is approaching, “Any signs of the Fievegal, Sir Chebnom?”

  “Not yet, your Majesty. Though, they’ll be coming from the northwest, so her Majesty’s staging area will likely have the most advanced notice. There has been no word, yet.”

  “Damn it…”

  Loxourren walks up, “Most of the villagers are onboard the carriages, your Majesty. We’re pushing the remaining men and women to hurry, but we’ll need to depart within the next two hours or so, by the looks of it, if we wish to reach her Majesty’s position before the fire catches up.” The knight can’t help but once more looking at the imposing mountain of light looming over them.

  It’s easy to forget that it’s the middle of the night due to the bright glow coming off of the mana fire, which is difficult to look at directly. It’s not quite as intensely bright as the sun, but it might as well be while they’re so close. The black, rainbow-framed flames themselves provide a sinister, ominous outline to the bottom edge.

  The fire advances a little less than a kilometer per hour under the current weather conditions, which is thankfully rather calm. Dryness, wetness, or even incinerated terrain have no effect on the rate of spread, and wind magic only barely influences the embers, but has very little effect on the flames themselves. Rikuto doubts rain would help, and the only thing that seems to accelerate the leading edge is tall objects, trees, and structures. The mountains to the west definitely provide a foreboding reality, assuming the flames don’t reach the breakaway point for the mantle before that.

  Just guessing from what he knows about Earth, which has higher gravity than Zenkon, but is speculated to be smaller than the planet he’s on, he’s using Earth’s numbers for safety. And, he estimates conservatively that thirty kilometers is the absolute doom of the planet. If his hope holds out that the mana fire spreads downwards more slowly than it does horizontally, which is known to be much slower than upwards, then they have additional time. But, in contrast, there’s no way to know how deep the fire has reached already. It could be a handful of meters or it could be at about 30 kilometers matching the current estimated diameter of the blaze. If Daniel does plan on using a nuke to try to ‘snuff out’ the mana of the unstoppable runaway spell, he’s running out of time unless his bomb compares to the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated by mankind on a world that had far more experience building them than some random American.

  Rikuto knows Daniel is exploiting the traits of the materials of this world to ignore the precision calculations and machining that went into Earth’s most terrible weapons, but that just means that he has bombs that he can only guess at their effectiveness. If he overestimates the superweapons, the fire won’t be stopped. If he underestimates them, their intention to save the trade hub city of Urflasdat would be moot.

  Please tell me you have something up your sleeve, Daniel. Or, if not, get your powerful mages over here so we can work together and try to push the flames back on itself and stop the advance. If you had any idea what’s at risk, you wouldn’t be dragging your feet screwing around with your harem.

  “Once the last evacuees are on the carriages, prepare to make double-time towards Urflasdat to meet Queen Heralesse. We’ll need to start consolidating our mana resources.”

  “Yes, your Majesty!” confirm the knights.

  As they’re returning to their duties, the sound of retching comes from behind the young King, and he turns to find Larravu expelling the contents of her stomach on the ground.

  “Dame Larravu…?”

  “F-Forgive this display, your Majesty…”

  “No, I understand,” replies Rikuto. “Are you alright? If you need to retreat, please go. I’ll have someone else keep watch over me.”

  “N-No, your Majesty!” urges the gatonine woman. “I-I’m fine, I swear it. I shall not fail you.”

  Rikuto studies her for a moment, but also does glance around as well. She’s certainly not the only one feeling weary or sick due to the powerful mana radiating off of the fire. He can feel it like a warm wind, as if an electric heater is on. But, several soldiers are leaning against walls and structural supports of the village buildings, steadying themselves and catching their breath.

  We’ll need to do a headcount before we leave.

  “Larravu,” murmurs the Japanese man. “My homeland was famous for many things, but infamous for one above most, I’m disappointed to say; Karōshi. Death by overwork. Many of my people ignored the signs and died at their desks, in their homes, and even simply walking because they collapsed from the stress and exhaustion they endure. This is not a moment to power through. There are many assassins in this world that none of us would stand a chance against. So please, take care of yourself, and go get some rest.”

  Rikuto then turns and speaks up more loudly. “Listen up! All of you! If you are struggling to stay standing, you are no use to me right now. The mana fire is emitting poisonous mana. I will not reprimand you for retreating to rest and recover. I need everyone when we are prepared to make another attempt. Those of you that can still work, please help those who can’t to the carriages to rest and evacuate ahead of us.”

  “Yes, your Majesty!” come back the replies, both weary and more spirited, as the soldiers do their best to comply. Rikuto knows this world has its own rules and expectations for work ethic, not least of which is the ‘honor’ or ‘duty’ they have to keep working, even if they feel a ‘little under the weather’. Even with only a high pressure environment, rather than the toxic and manipulative ‘Black Companies’ infamous in Japan, the stress can pile up. This world is not as equipped to identify and treat a stroke once it happens, so it’s imperative to avoid that scenario.

  “Let’s go, Larravu,” urges Rikuto as he takes her arm over his shoulder.

  She reluctantly gives an exhausted confirmation of, “Y-Yes, your Majesty.” She accompanies him to one of the carriages, but it’s clear that she’s disappointed. Even so, they have to stop for her to throw up again, and Rikuto patiently glances around to make sure everything is proceeding. He calls out so that the feline ninja-knight doesn’t have to feel ashamed that she’s vomiting in front of him, “Lord Gunther, be sure to keep an eye on the leading edge of the fire and not to lose track of time.”

  “Yes, your Majesty!” calls out the young mage. “I have most of the crystals and trigger mechanisms, but I believe we’ll have to abandon the tankards themselves.”

  “Soldiers, strip the tankards from their carts to make use of them. They have wheels and can help us haul more people who can’t walk.”

  “Yes, your Majesty!” agree the men and women.

  Though he’s not the most agreeable person in social settings, Gunther does appear to be working himself to the best of his ability. The problem is that he has so little experience. He can try to smack two sticks together, but he’ll never obtain fire. But, if even a single shred of Wenlianna’s wisdom stuck with him, or he studied further after the duel in order to become better, he may stumble onto a miracle.

  I’ll take any miracle I can get at this point, regardless of who brings it.

  Once Larravu indicates she can walk, Rikuto helps her back up to her feet. “Make sure you drink water to replenish your fluids,” warns the young King. “I’m going to be extremely upset if you risked your life to help me earlier, only to die of dehydration.”

  The gatonine woman giggles, still sick, but able to smile a little. “Yes, your Majesty. I’m sorry, but also, thank you.”

  “Of course.” He glances around at the other soldiers and knights being escorted to the carriages. He doesn’t see anyone else struggling with severe nausea, but Larravu got much closer than most when she came to rescue the Japanese man. He’s praying that it’s not as similar to nuclear radiation as it appears.

  But, of course, the truth will loom over him just out of reach for some time to come.

  ***

  Far away from the fire, in Castle Mornistae, Erimaya walks gracefully down the corridor. The castle is rather quiet, since Rikuto and Heralesse took such a large portion of the castle for the relief efforts. The nobles naturally agreed, since it will put the Empire in their debt if they are able to make significant inroads against the blaze, regardless of Rikuto’s and Heralesse’s more innocent desire to help protect people, even outside of the Kingdom.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Naturally, Erimaya has a decent idea of what’s going on, just from the rumors that managed to slip out and from what Sir Horaston, who was there with Rikuto when the fire was started, hinted at her.

  She doesn’t know all of the specifics, but it’s not a normal fire. And, because it’s almost certainly related to the void artilleries, which were stolen by Grand Prince Yaulander, there is an untold plethora of malfunctions, aberrations, and side effects that the weapons could cause. Something about Fort Twilight could have prevented the fire from starting, like throwing a torch into a dry hay bale over throwing it into a pond.

  She wishes she could do more, but even Horaston seems to be acting on orders to keep her in the dark. So, the most she can do is visit the few areas she’s allowed to go to under her isolation in the castle. Without Rikuto and Heralesse to veto, King Father Greydald forbade Erimaya from leaving the inner sanctum of the castle. She can only interact with his most loyal servants, with the only exception being Sir Horaston, who has loyally protected her thus far. He knows Greydald will suspect him before anyone else if Erimaya is able to escape her protective confinement again, so the knight has simply been loyally guarding her. Thankfully, he’s willing to talk with her, at least.

  “What do you think, Sir Horaston?” asks young Princess. “The castle feels especially quiet, doesn’t it?”

  “Indeed, your Highness,” replies the knight politely. “Fortunately, his Majesty is minimizing visitors, meaning it is easier for me to keep track of who is around us.”

  “Mm, that makes sense. I appreciate you making that effort. We wouldn’t want my accomplices to be able to sneak in, would we?”

  The large human knight chuckles. He quietly says, “I am aware of the phantom.”

  “Th-The what?” asks Erimaya nervously, glancing at him. She’s still young, even as well-read as she is due to her abundance of time to study. Zenkon has plenty of supernatural phenomena that go beyond even the wonders that magic can achieve.

  However, when she makes eye contact with the knight, his expression shows that he’s not making up a fiction.

  He’s giving her a knowing look.

  Wait! Does… Does he mean the golem? Erimaya swallows hard.

  “I’m terribly afraid of ghosts, Sir Horaston. Please don’t frighten me so.”

  “Apologies, your Highness. But, I am quite certain it is not a ghost, wraith, or specter. You should be more mindful of ‘talking to yourself’ right now.”

  The Princess can feel her face drain of color. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “If you say so, your Highness.”

  She pouts at him, knowing that he’s being sarcastic.

  If Horaston knows, has anyone else noticed already? Do Mother and Father know about it, then?

  Erimaya clears her throat. “Regardless, I’ve finished my new family crest,” declares the young girl. She presents the handkerchief with her finished design.

  Horston has passively observed her many hours spent sewing the emblems that evolved into the form it has now.

  The emblem depicts a trio of laugur flowers, with the left one being deep red, the right one being a deep violet, and the central one of the “bouquet” is a blend of deep red and deep violet, with black swirled stripes on its petals. The “stems” of each flower are a sword, crossing midway down the blades. Intricate patterns like liquid running down the blades match the opposite flower present, with the central sword decorated with ‘golden liquid’. A half-wreath arcs over the bouquet, adorned with small black flowers, and each end of the half-wreath’s arc has a black bird with faint streaks of color in their feathers facing outwards away from the center, while a third such bird rests atop the arc at its center, its wings spread wide.

  At the bottom is the apparent family motto forming an arc under the bouquet, which reads “[Outlast the Mountains]”.

  As simple as the piece of fabric is, it truly is a quaint masterpiece of stitchwork.

  “It’s very nice, your Highness. Should we register it with the House of Lords?”

  She gives him a slight scowl. Erimaya doesn’t have a separate peerage of her own, since she’s technically too young to have debuted in social circles, so she won’t receive her own title until her debutante ball. Unlike a typical noble daughter her age, she is more of an ‘open secret’ as the princess, since her betrothal and eventual marriage are tools of political connections and diplomacy. It’s significantly more important for a princess than a noble daughter, who the family will want to present at her absolute best. Erimaya’s value is almost entirely through the political connections that can be made.

  “I was hoping you would say ‘I hope your fiance-to-be will like it, Highness, or I’ll have to fight him for your honor.’”

  Horaston chuckles warmly. “Apologies, your Highness. But to acknowledge the secret that shall not be spoken…”

  “Grrah!” growls the Princess, interrupting him. The knight knows her well enough before and after the young blonde’s adventures to suspect where that particular behavior came from.

  Or rather, the unimaginably powerful fox-eared girl who inspired it.

  Submitting the design to the House of Lords as a crest would be the fastest way for it to be stolen by another noble house, since the “Lawson” family doesn’t exist in Mornistae, and it is unlikely that it’ll ever be acknowledged formally.

  Just before she can say anything else, having reclaimed her handkerchief with a sassy huff, Erimaya perks up. She notices voices coming from a room ahead, but the central citadel of the castle, where she’s being ‘held captive’, should be all but abandoned right now with the relief effort Heralesse and Rikuto are leading. There are plenty of soldiers stationed around the castle to prevent an invasion while they’re away, of course, but the only ones who should have any business in the Citadel would be the King Father, Queen Mother, and the servants.

  The voices talking are two men, and one of them seems to be Greydald’s, but Erimaya can’t tell for certain.

  The Princess gestures for Horaston to keep quiet, and she points at the wall. He sighs in slight exasperation, since it’s just for her own entertainment at this point.

  Horaston lowers his helmet’s visor and takes position along the wall, placing the point of his sword carefully on the floor and holding a proud pose. He whispers, “Please do not tarry for too long, your Highness.”

  “Mm-hmm!” confirms the young Princess. She then glances around to make sure there’s no one watching, and she slips into one of the side rooms. It’s a study that was used by her ancestors who had more children than Erimaya’s parents, but is now mostly just a storage room for outdated books, or books awaiting repair.

  Like all rooms in the central part of the castle, there is a secret escape route that only the Royal Family is permitted to use. Though, as old as the castle is, they are mostly an open secret. That said, many of the unused rooms are easy to determine whether or not the secret pathways have been used, and specialists with strong senses of smell will investigate to make sure the ones using the paths are no one other than the Royal Family.

  If caught, Erimaya will get scolded, but it’s not illegal for her to use the secret door, which she manages to find by pulling a couple books out of the way on the most common shelves used. They had to make the secret escape doors relatively consistent, since they may need to be used in an emergency.

  From what she heard from Orphelexia, the Queen Mother, Zuzia surprised her and Greydald while she was fleeing from the castle, and she slipped into the secret passageway, escaping the guards for a time.

  Erimaya uses the escape tunnels to sneak over to the room the voices were coming out of, and she leaned against the secret door to listen. She can hear a strange low rumble, but it’s not quite loud enough to drown out the voices.

  “... interfere with the relief efforts. It will pose a threat, but more importantly, it will be a suitable catalyst.” The voice is unfamiliar, and the man speaking seems to have a habit of keeping his voice low. The blonde pre-teen has to really focus to make out his words.

  “Mmm, I see,” replies the more aged voice used to projecting to an audience. Erimaya doesn’t know what they’re talking about, but she’s certain her father, King Father Greydald, is the other man speaking. “So, the intention is to use the incident against them?”

  “Yes. My Lord will ask for your alibi, as well as your voice to give further strength when the accusation is made.”

  “I can do that. But, what of the boy? How much does he know?”

  “Our information suggests that the otherworlder is unaware. Otherwise, he would have focused on swaying the Empress.”

  “That makes sense.”

  What are they talking about? I assume the boy is Rikuto, right? So, what are they planning?

  “On another note, is it true that your lord has made inroads to the west through Reeffjord?”

  “Indirectly, but I have it on good authority that he will become the governor in due time. This will be directly related to the request I just made.”

  “Of course. I’ll lend my own voice, but we may need to get creative with the boy.”

  “He’ll make himself useful without our intervention. I recommend keeping whatever mercantile goods you’ve been buying up ready, though. The fire is encroaching on Urflasdat.”

  “Urflasdat?...” starts Greydald. But, just as the conversation is going deeper, a tickle reaches Erimaya’s nose. Naturally, the secret tunnels aren’t maintained like the regular corridors of the castle, so they’re rather dusty.

  Knowing that she can’t afford to get caught after what she just heard, the Princess immediately retreats as she covers her face and nose, doing her best to resist for as long as she can. Once she’s fairly certain, and can no longer hold it anyways, she sneezes into her elbow.

  The young girl lets out a quiet groan before regaining her composure. She glances back to make sure she’s not being followed, and she quickly makes her way back to the study from which she entered the passageway. From there, she slips back out into the hall and approaches her loyal knight.

  She quickly gestures him to follow, and they make their way back to her room. Once there, Horaston jokes, “You seem distraught, your Highness. Did you discover your impending fiance?”

  “Worse,” replies the blonde Princess. She whispers, “Xyreko, are you there? Please, Xyreko. Sir Horaston can be trusted.”

  The golem keeping watch over Erimaya appears, and the knight instinctively snaps his hand to his sword. Erimaya quickly holds her hand up to halt him, and she whispers, “Xyreko! Thank you! Please listen to this, I have some important things to tell you.”

  “Forgive me, your Highess,” replies a voice she wasn’t expecting from the golem. It’s not Xyreko’s mature, commanding voice similar to Aramellianna’s, or even a more serious version of Gold’s. Instead, the voice is softer and gentler, and more obviously feminine, more like Gwenesphia, Thymeria, or Reignleif.

  Having a suspicion, since she did meet a few of the other sapient golems of the Citadel, Erimaya asks, “Balamae?”

  “Indeed, your Highness. Truly, I am honored by such a wise future Empress of the Fievegal to recognize me so easily.”

  The Princess smiles warmly, but she remembers Horaston, glancing at him worriedly. Though she trusts him, she does know there are some lines he has to stay on the “untrustworthy” side of. She trusts him precisely because she knows what she needs to be wary of.

  Horaston replies quietly, “Be more mindful, your Highness, please. I know I’m no match for the golems, and I also know if I reveal anything I see in here, you’ll end up cloistered in the Citadel for the last time.” He chuckles bitterly, though he doesn’t despise the idea of Erimaya getting whatever she wants. He just knows his place as a knight who serves the Kingdom of Mornistae.

  She gives him a gentle smile and pets his forearm. “Thank you, Sir Horaston.” The Princess then clears her throat and faces Balamae again.

  “Right! So, then, Balamae, can you relay a message?”

  “Of course. Who is the message intended for?”

  “Um,... Whoever you think it’s most useful for. I think… my Father is conspiring with someone.”

  The golem’s posture shifts a bit, as if Balamae is disappointed hearing this.

  “Princess, as a loyal servant of the Fievegal, I can only be happy to receive advantageous information about our political rivals. But, as member of the Royal Family of one such rival…”

  “It is because I represent my Royal Family that I must make sure Father’s plan fails,” replies Erimaya passionately, but remembering to keep her voice down. Servants do still come by to provide her food, help with her outfits and hygiene, and clean the corridors and her room. And, even loyal servants gossip. Those in the central portion of the castle have been instructed to report Erimaya’s suspicious behaviors if anything seems especially abnormal.

  “I’ll relay the information as you tell it to me,” replies Balamae. “But, be sure to protect yourself as well.”

  The blonde Princess of Mornistae nods in agreement. She understands that Balamae worries that Erimaya is making herself too easy to take advantage of for military intel against Mornistae. But, she would only ever tell the Fievegal because she knows they won’t simply invade to conquer them just because they have some secrets that could make it easy.

  From there, Erimaya relays what little she gleaned from her brief spying effort. She could have returned, but if there was any chance that they heard her sneeze, attempting to sneak back up to the door would only give her away for certain. It’s almost a guarantee they would be more alert, and they probably would have noticed her right away.

  Balamae then bows after hearing the explanation. “Thank you, your Highness. I’ll relay this to the Emperor and the Empresses. We can’t do much about the trade disruption in Urflasdat, but we may be able to ensure predatory trades don’t harm civilian populations as much. As for the southern territory, the Empire does have sovereignty over certain tracts of land beyond Reeffjord. Grand Prince Strylaph will not be able to govern it uncontested, though.”

  “Wait… what?” asks Erimaya.

  “Hmm? Nevermind that part.” The golem briefly glances at the knight, but she doesn’t add anything further about it. Instead, she says, “Your normal guard will return. For now, I am monitoring you, as Xyreko and Ucahote are busy. Please do avoid any abnormal events. Our focus is on…”

  Suddenly, the golem twitches and seems to look at something far behind both the Princess and her knight.

  “My apologies,” states Balamae. “I am being summoned. Like I said, I’ll be monitoring you as much as possible, so be careful.”

  “Wait!” whispers Erimaya sharply. She withdraws her hand-made handkerchief and admires it for one last second before kissing it. She then hands it to Balamae, saying, “Please deliver this to Daniel. I did my best to include what protection I could to keep him safe.”

  Balamae studies the crest on the handkerchief, which has been meticulously stitched by hand.

  “Yes, I shall see it into his hands personally, your Highness.” She then bows, teasing softly, “Or should I say already… ‘Your Grace’...” She giggles as the form of the golem changes before Erimaya’s eyes, and the normal assault-rifle carrying autonomous warrior resumes its vigil before it dissolves into thin air as its stealth magic engages.

  Erimaya folds her hands together and prays softly for her Fievegal friends to be safe and successful in their efforts against the mana fire. Whatever it is, it sounds foreboding.

  But, if anyone can beat it, it would be the Fievegal, with Daniel’s otherworld tools, Hekate’s raw power, and the dragons’ passion and fearlessness.

  Please be safe. And, I hope you like the handkerchief, Daniel.

  ***