Trapped in Another World With No Magic

The Citadel stands as a majestic mountain of artificial construction looming over a large, rolling plain, which is currently being bathed in the warm sunlight of Zenkon as the fall season starts to roll in. The villages in the immediate area, including the castle town built around the titanic ancient fortress, are all growing steadily as refugees intermingle with the growing families of various western races.

The castle has become the new home of the dragons, ruled over by their three specific Empresses in addition to the Empress Regnant, Hekate, and her beloved Daniel.

Not all of the dragons hold those five in particularly high regard, but they abide by the rules established and keep their heads down in exchange for freedom to eat, travel, hoard, and otherwise live free lives.

The issue is, a sudden revelation of a dangerous enemy closer than anyone realized has come to light, and no fewer than six of the dragons’ precious eggs are at risk because of their parentage; the five eggs belonging specifically to the three Empresses, as well as the one belonging to their loyal knights, Roeta and Magnir.

Gold, the second eldest female dragon after Ryuogriar studies her makeshift nest hoarded in her own private quarters deep within the most secure and virtually unreachable part of the fortress.

With her own precious offspring carrier added in, she has taken direct responsibility of seven eggs that she was already loosely watching over, but Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and Geirahoel all telepathically explained to her the situation and asked her to hoard the imperial family’s eggs somewhere no one can gain entry to.

Heh heh heh! You wanted an outburst of fiery maternal instincts? You’ll have to fight me to get your babies back! Hahahaha!

The golden dragon in humanoid form currently is proud and amused by her own accomplishment. The three Empresses will be upset when she holds their eggs hostage, but Daniel will see through it.

A dragon has to get her entertainment somewhere.

“Now then…” remarks the golden dragon. She already snatched all of the eggs out in the open in front of the other residents of the Citadel, since any one of them could be a suspect.

In her private sanctuary, Gold studies the ranks of humanoids of various races making up the gathering of the Unity of the Great Dragons, religious acolytes who worship the dragons as gods, in spite of the fickle nature of the powerful predators.

The followers are already kneeling, keeping their heads down as they await instructions.

The warrior-minded dragon holds her hand out commandingly, saying sternly, “All of you, strip all of your belongings at once.”

This surprises the devotees -most of them, anyways-, and they look at her. A small few of them simply stand up and obey her order without a single doubt or question; true zealots and fanatics.

Ugh… Goofy cultists. But, whatever. They should be reliable enough.

The immediately obedient ones are already halfway undressed by the time one of the cambion women asks, “Great Divine One… This humble servant only asks for enlightenment… Is such a task necessary?”

“Would I have ordered it if it wasn’t necessary?” asks the golden dragon sternly. “I have no need for any of you weaklings. If you truly are devoted to me and my sisters, as well as the Emperor, then you shall obey. If you refuse, leave my sight and never appear before me again.”

This causes the doubtful to flinch, and some of them glance at each other.

Among the six zealots, one of them is a dattakorien woman, who stands as bare as the day she was born, holding her head high and proud with her habit and simple adornments folded and piled neatly on the floor in front of her, as with the men who did the same.

The remaining twenty-two dragon worshippers are a little more bashful and hesitant, taking their clothes off somewhat slowly.

Exasperated, Gold groans, “I’m not going to make you have a hedonistic revelry. If you are truly devoted to me in mind, body, and soul, then demonstrate your commitment.”

This eases concerns of most of the hesitant ones, which includes most of the female fanatics. 

Once everyone is finally stripped bare, Gold makes a note that none of them seemed to need special care to remove any of their garments or adornments, which is a clue, but not exclusionary.

“Good. Now then, I need ten volunteers.”

The same six zealots who stripped without doubt or question walk without a word to the front, forming a line. They bow on the ground, and an oni man proclaims, “We are your humble servants, Majestic Divine Mother.”

Gold rolls her eyes subtly. She likes being acknowledged as one of the strongest beings in the world, but she does often feel like the cult mentality of the Unity can be a little suffocating.

Several more of the devotees start to step forward, and a brief and quiet exchange between them has the excess volunteers sort each other out to allow four more followers to join the six, ready to serve. The individuals pledge their allegiance as well, though each saying their own pledge.

“Good. The rest of you, take your belongings and leave us. I’ll provide instructions when the time is right.”

“As you wish, O’ Divine One,” replies one of the senior women in the remaining group, who follow the dragon matron’s instructions. They quietly take their belongings and head towards the door, dressing themselves quickly before leaving the room.

Once they have left, Gold looks at her volunteers. “Your belongings will be locked up until the day I release you from your duty. You will tend and guard my nest with your lives. You are not permitted to leave this room. You will not use magic unless in defense of the eggs. And, you will not speak to anyone outside of this group present. Inform me of anyone who tries to speak to you, even if you must wake me. These eggs are the future of the dragons. If you betray that future, there will be none for you.”

The devotees bow their heads. They say together, “For the Great Dragons, we are united!”

Gold takes a seat on her special lounge-capable seat; a specialty of the Emperor of the Citadel. She crosses her legs and gestures her hand to beckon the volunteers. “One at a time, step forward and make the vows of loyalty and silence I just laid out.”

Unsurprisingly, the six zealots are quickest to their feet, never showing even a shred of confusion or doubt, where the remaining four are only mildly confused by Gold’s cryptic instructions.

After receiving sacred vows from all ten volunteers, she explains, “There are enemies amongst us. Any of you who breaks these vows will be declared a traitor and tortured to death. You have not seen torture like the Harbinger of Calamity can muster. I suggest you hold your vows truly sacred to your hearts.”

“Yes, our Divine Golden Light,” agree the volunteers in unison. Their chorus is pretty impressive.

“I’ll handle guarding the eggs most of the time, but your jobs are to read to them, sing to them, keep the area around them clean. Under my supervision, you will clean the shells as well. Observe the incubators for any problems. Any mistakes will result in an instant forfeiture of your lives. Am I understood?”

“Clearly, o’ Greatest of All Beings.”

Gold crosses her arms, lounging back in her throne-like chair.

The dattakorien woman amongst the second batch of four volunteers raises her hand. “What?” asks the dragon bluntly.

“Please forgive this one for raising a question of your great wisdom, Divine Mother.”

“Go on then,” urges the scruffy blonde.

“Are there any suspects we should be especially wary of?”

“No. Just silently refuse to answer any questions and inform me immediately of anyone who comes knocking. There will be some who are unaware, but I will determine what is useful information. Be curious, but do not try to take matters into your own hands. If you must act, evacuate the eggs to wherever I am. I will inform you of my whereabouts at all times.”

“May these humble servants be graced with an estimated time we must use such caution, Great Golden Matriarch?” asks one of the men.

“I honestly can’t say. The Emperor plans to celebrate the hatching of the princes or princesses as a holiday for the Fievegal, but the children will be in danger if the enemy is not found.”

The devotees nod in understanding.

“Serve me well, and you will be adequately rewarded.” She plucks one of her blonde hairs, breathing on it with her fire breath with spell whispering laced into her exhale.

She’s chanting a sort of blessing -though, it’s mostly just for warm fuzzies for the cultists-. Her hair continues to glow afterwards, and she demonstrates it, which the fanatics stare at in bright-eyed wonder. Few of the most devout believers are greedy, but none would turn down a direct blessing. Even though it’s a simple hair to Gold, she knows that scales, hairs, and broken horns given to the members of the Unity are treated as sacred artifacts. In the case of scales and hair specifically, they’ll often make them into some sort of amulet or stitch them into their robes for protection. “I will grant you each one of my golden stands of hair blessed with my magic if you do not disappoint me.”

The devotees all bow to the ground again. This time, all ten speak with a zealous certainty and pride. “We shall not fail you, o’ Divine Dragon of the Heavens!”

“Good. Then, answer me one last question; how would you describe this room’s location?”

One of the zealots replies proudly, “Any of us who do should be put to death, Divine One.”

She scoffs and smirks. Yeah, I guess I earned myself that one, thinks the dragon to herself.

“Agreed. But, if you would, humor me this time.”

One of the non-zealots raises his hand cautiously, and the dandelion blonde nods at him. He speaks, “This room is on the deepest level of the Citadel near the center, where even the Harbinger of Calamity can’t reach.”

Gold nods agreeably. “Yes, that’s correct. An appropriate place for the future of the dragons.”

All ten of the Unity members nod, and the dragon matron dismisses them finally. “Now, figure out your duties amongst yourselves. I’ll be reviewing some reports in the meantime.”

The devotees bow, and she makes her way to her own private office.

Good. They have the location completely wrong. The rest is up to you, o’ Glorious Empresses. She smiles playfully at her own thoughts.

The golden dragon inspects her growing binder of informational reports coming from her staff at the aquaculture farm. They take samples, which are analyzed by the Uhl’tall alchemists for water quality, and the health of the shellfish are being checked regularly. A handful of deaths are inevitable, but because of the steps Daniel instructed her to take, every single one of them has been growing pearls, which dragons eagerly gather because of their shine, and eastern races will trade a great deal of wealth in exchange.

I’ll need to set up an illusion golem to take my place when I need to go out. And, I should invite Shek and Skloe, just to be safe. If Daniel really is afraid his children are in danger, I can’t imagine the mini-gobbos will be exempt.

The dragon stretches her arms back as she lounges in her office chair, which reclines on a spring. She relaxes in her specially made chair for a moment before a different thought crosses her mind.

Huh… Since when have I been content staying in my human form for so long?

The blonde battle fanatic looks around her office, which has an easy filing system for her reports, her treasures look even larger, and Daniel has mentioned in a one-off remark that a smaller target is the enemy of a rifleman.

But, more important than all of that, her furniture is all made to fit her human form, even accounting for her tail where applicable. Even the chair she’s lounging on now has a gap between the seat and back large enough for her tail to comfortably hang behind the chair, and she can even wheel herself around on the simple rollers using her tail thanks to it -when she’s feeling too lazy to even use her feet-.

The prideful golden dragon can’t help but laugh warmly. “Ah, yes… I guess I’m also being corrupted by the Harbinger, aren’t I?” She gives an ambiguous salute up towards the ceiling, since she has no idea where he as at the moment. 

The ‘Manager of Project Nacre’ stretches again before reviewing the reports in earnest. Depending on the information contained, she may be able to keep expanding by either building more reservoirs or adding more shellfish where they’ll safely thrive. Project Nacre is the secret name of the project, though it’s likely anyone that thinks about it for too long might figure it out.

Then again, Gold is almost six hundred years old, and she had no idea that pearl-making shellfish can be ‘encouraged’ to make pearls intentionally. Now that she knows the secret, it seems so stupidly simple.

Yet, it took an alien from another world to bring such a process to Zenkon.

And, Johellalaetus the Gold Matron is the one that strange wayward human decided to make the Master of Pearls.

***

Daniel looks over his armaments for the mission to inspect the mana quality of the areas infested with monsters, namely the locations where Tyror and Yaulwembor were located, since he suspects the lake will be too difficult to search until proper diving equipment can be made.

He has explosives, including smoke grenades and polonium grenades, and a large M79-style grenade launcher, which looks like an especially large-bore rifle. However, it doesn’t have proportionally large firepower, since it instead fires specialty shells to either explode, obscure, ignite, or otherwise deal with crowds, depending on which grenade is loaded.

Daniel chose the M79 design because of its relative simplicity, solid build, and lower risk factor if it is stolen from the person he assigns it to. He still has designs for a multi-grenade launcher and barrel-mount launcher that he can have Xyreko produce if anyone catches up because of a mistake, allowing them to abandon it if need be.

In contrast, he finally has a replacement railgun, though it has the same design as the first one, which he hasn’t been able to improve on yet. That means he has to be careful in the presence of lightning magic, and because it’s powered by magic, he has to be mindful of his usage of Nemaisol and anti-magic ordnance and ammunition.

A knock comes at the door as Daniel checks the contents of his secret magic bag. He needs to be extremely careful with it, because he has his greatest shame inside. “Just a minute,” calls out Daniel.

It appears as little more than a small holographic image on the display of the bag, but it’s mass is over 40,000 pounds thanks to a thick lead shielding added to its original mithril shell.

Daniel takes a breath and exhales, tucking the magic bag back into the one he keeps on himself at all times. He did what he had to in order to defeat the Devourer, and he made new ones afterwards in order to ensure there is never a time when they can’t respond to a similar threat. He’s not sure if he would have used an atom bomb on Yaulwembor if the battle kept going the way it was, but he’s thankful it didn’t come to that; a fact that is in large part thanks to the mechanic not possessing the weapon at the time, preventing it from even being an option in his considerations during the battle.

The human walks to the door and opens it, finding one of the Stalvaltan maids, who bows her head respectfully. “Forgive the intrusion, your Imperial Majesty.”

“It’s fine,” replies Daniel politely. “What can I do for you?”

“Your presence has been requested at the conference hall, your Grace. Duke Walliskah of the Empire has requested an audience.”

“A duke of the Empire?” replies Daniel, surprised. “The [heck] does a high ranking noble like that want to do with me?”

“Y-... You are the Emperor, your Majesty,” replies the maid, almost unsure if she should.

Daniel laughs. He knows he certainly doesn’t look the part, and he often doesn’t act like it, but he is rarely afforded opportunities to forget. “Sorry, what I meant was, Emperor or not, I know my reputation.” Daniel thinks. “He’s an actual duke?”

“Indeed,” replies the maid with a gentle smile. “Her Grace the Grand Duchess has confirmed his identity and is currently speaking on matters over which she has authority.”

Daniel nods in understanding. “Thank you for letting me know. Let me get dressed, and I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

The maid bows her head to confirm his instructions. “As you wish. Shall I assist you, your Grace?”

Daniel cocks his head, but just as quickly laughs lightly. “With my reputation, you might not want to find yourself in a room alone with me.”

“I do not mind,” replies the maid with an unflappable grace. “Even if the rumors were true.” She keeps a professional smile, but Daniel immediately becomes suspicious.

“Thank you, but I’ll be alright. Please inform the Grand Duchess I’m on my way.”

She bows her head once more. “Very well, your Majesty.” She leaves, and Daniel cleans up his armaments before simply withdrawing his under-jacket armor made from Yaulwembor’s scales. It saved his life with the maid Veuthene, and it has a low profile compared to his combat armor. He needs to do something about the Faormyr in order to try to obtain more scales for armor to protect his limbs, but he also doesn’t want to subject the creature to continuous harm.

Even assuming he can keep her imprisoned, Yaulwembor will undoubtedly fight tooth and nail to resist if she isn’t kept comfortable.

My list of otherworldly tasks seems to only grow these days, thinks the mechanic to himself.

He puts his jacket and gloves back on, sporting a fairly ‘normal’ look for him. He doesn’t care about flaunting wealth and power, and Duke Walliskah arrived without any sort of prior notice, as far as Daniel knows. In fictional stories Daniel has read, it would be well within acceptable etiquette for him to take his sweet time getting ready and make the Duke wait, if they had friction between them.

Since they’re total strangers and Daniel is more worried about protecting his family than his external reputation, he goes as he is.

The conference hall is a somewhat hastily constructed building just outside of the airship meant to hold business meetings, since many nobles and merchants have been making the trip to the airship parked outside of the Mattarglos capital in order to make contact with both the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy and the Fievegal, which are each the most talked about entities in the world, it seems.

The building is fairly big, taking a form similar to a Viking mead hall, but made with Imperial and Mattarglossian building methods. As such, it has a somewhat log-cabin look in spite of its size. A protective weather-resistant layer is provided by using the boiled down syrup of the behemoth maples. The surface is extremely sticky, and even as Daniel is approaching the building, he can smell the sugary sweet scent that reminds him of a comfortable breakfast.

The semi-offsetting aspect of this intriguing natural coating is the abundance of hand-sized insects that remind the Earthling of slipper lobsters, which have gathered along the foundation of the building, using feathery pads on their spoon-like arms to collect and eat the syrup. Mattarglossian natives go around and gather the isopods periodically to use in meals.

Daniel has never been a huge fan of lobster or crab, but these ‘cleaner lobsters’ as they’re called are actually fairly good.

Daniel just doesn’t like the idea of a ‘bug’ the size of a child’s shoe crawling around anywhere near him, no matter how harmless and docile they are.

Even now, there are easily half a dozen of the little critters that Daniel can see just on the wall where the entrance is, all busily feasting on the excess syrup that trailed down. Other insects get themselves stuck in the surface of the walls by flying into them, and insectivores like benkis are known to gather and pick off the cleaner lobsters.

“Here benki benki benki…” calls out Daniel quietly with a song-like tone, glancing around. “We got a feast here for you…”

There aren’t any of the small mammals in sight, and he has to head into the meeting.

Yeugh… I’ll take weasel-cats over these guys any day, thinks the mechanic.

The Stalvaltan Guards standing watch on either side of the conference hall’s entrance way make eye contact with Daniel, and one of them knocks twice on the door with his hand low, while the other guard salutes Daniel for both of them. “Your Imperial Majesty. Welcome. Her Greatness, Their Graces, and his Highness the Duke are waiting for you.”

“Thank you. At ease,” replies the mechanic-turned-emperor. The one who knocked opens the door for Daniel, and someone inside announces somewhat loudly, “Announcing the arrival of his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Daniel kos Lawson of the Fievegal.”

The humble American sighs as he passes through the door, noticing the herald who announced him just inside; the stationing of whom is the doing of Aramellianna, no doubt.

“Apologies for the delay,” states Daniel as he approaches the gathered group. The conference hall has a large square U-form table which wraps around a small raised stage for the petitioner or other presenter to speak and, in the case of those wishing to show off something, to demonstrate that item for all of those seated around the outside to see.

Daniel’s inner circle is seated at the back end of the conference table, with a seat left empty just left of the center between Hekate, who is seated right of center, and Doephluev, who is seated in Ryuogriar’s traditional position.

“Greetings, your Imperial Grace,” replies the man in the middle with a bow. The handful of Imperial soldiers escorting him are staged at the opening of the conference table, with Stalvaltan Guards standing at the ends of the table to form a corridor for the guests and prevent a rush to the Fievegal dignitaries. Magnir, Roeta, Helbeit, and Resken are all standing at the Fievegal end of the table with assault rifles held at the standing ready positions, their barrels pointed towards the ground. Because response time is more important in such a close in space, they aren’t worrying about disguising the otherworldly weapons as staves the way Daniel typically does with the Dragonslayer.

Daniel returns the greeting as he heads for his apparent seat. “Good afternoon. Duke Walliskah, I presume?”

“Indeed, your Majesty,” replies the man who appears old enough to be Daniel’s father with a well-groomed greying beard and moustache complementing his grey-streaked dark blond hair. “I am Duke Walliskah kos Gythingraus, Margrave of the Northern Region of the Grand Zenkon Empire.”

Yanidere catches Daniel up on the meeting so far. “Your Grace, the Margrave and I were discussing the attack on Fort Twilight following the Fievegal’s occupation, as well as the state of the military intervention into the Stalvaltan territory and the intent to annex the region to the Fievegal as compensation for the attack.”

Daniel nods, taking his seat. “Have I missed the Empire’s response?” asks Daniel, looking to the Duke.

Walliskah replies politely, “Please forgive me as I answer in full. The Grand Zenkon Empire has forbidden annexation of all territories of countries belonging to the Imperial United Front Treaty formed to continue defensive resistance against the Demon Covenant’s invasion. Since Fort Twilight was voluntarily ceded to the Fievegal by the Empire, and the former is still in a questioned state of Sovereignty, the Empire is willing to acknowledge the destruction of Fort Twilight by Mornistae as an illegal act of war.”

Geirahoel grumbles a little sourly, “The first illegal act of war came from the Empire when it invaded our home.”

“For which Twilight was a satisfactory concession,” replies Daniel diplomatically. “Forgive me if I’m off base, Duke Walliskah, but I understand you to mean that the Empire will not interfere with the annexation of the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy in retaliation for Mornistae’s unprovoked attack on Fort Twilight.

The duke hesitates for a moment. Even Daniel knows that the strategic value of Fort Twilight, as great as it was, does not outweigh the apparent economic value of the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy, since the ‘discovery’ of an enhanced magic crystal ‘mine’. That said, by their own laws, the Empire can’t take control of the Stalvaltan region without allowing the Fievegal to first lay claim to it, lest they be annexing territory from an allied nation. Additionally, whatever effort the Empire puts into reclaiming the Grand Duchy, it will be expected from their other allies and the nobility of Mornistae that the Grand Duchy would be returned in near or completely whole to avoid setting the precedent of the Empire absorbing the territory of allies by simply waiting until they’re lost to the enemy.

“If you have concerns, my Lord,” starts Yanidere with a polite, but commanding tone. “The Grand Duchy will sue for independence first, but our intention to ally with the Fievegal will remain unchanged. That said, we are prepared to offer the Grand Zenkon Empire priority access to our supply of enhanced magic crystals, as the current contract with the Kingdom of Mornistae has been nullified by King Rikuto’s continued acts of unprovoked aggression.”

Walliskah clears his throat, losing a great deal of his stoic facade in regards to the Grand Duchy. “Forgive me. I will need to relay this issue to her Imperial Majesty the Empress.”

“What matter shall we discuss, then, your Grace?” asks Daniel politely.

The duke bows his head in appreciation, and he explains, “Her Enlightened Majesty, Empress Sundenelle kos Lindenmorg has tasked me with relaying this message to your Grace, Daniel kos Lawson.”

Daniel smirks and scratches his chin curiously. “Not ‘Daniel of the Otherworld’?”

“That is correct, your Grace. Her Majesty has an answer to your previous proposal.”

“My previous pro-...?” starts Daniel as Wallisakah steps forward with a message presented not in a scroll, but in a simple leather binder, providing virtually no risk of having a hidden spell attached. Regardless, Magnir steps forward and accepts the binder, while Daniel turns pale mid-sentence.

He is already being glared at by Hekate, the Dragon Empresses and Roeta, and Doephluev, who is sitting right next to him. Similarly, Vaergraes, Aoloan, and Treia snicker at him, even though it affects all of them.

The archoneldwyn temporary empress is the first one to tease him. “Yes, my Beloved. Your previous proposal, indeed.” She takes the letter from Magnir before Daniel can receive it, and she scrutinizes it as if she is the ruler.

“Hmmm… She’s crafty.”

“How so?” asks Hekate, reaching across Daniel for the binder, which Doephluev hands over.

“She is already planning the wedding for next spring,” states the Archoneldwyn.

Daniel scoffs and laughs nervously. “What?”

“She’s right,” replies Ryuogriar, reading it from beside Hekate. “It looks like the young Empress called your bluff.” She gives Daniel an exasperated look, and many of his companions snicker at him.

Daniel takes a breath and sighs. “I’m not marrying her.” He looks at Walliskah, asking a little dryly, “Your grace, were you truly sent to simply deliver this message?”

“The gracious Empress wished to express her sincerity and ensure contact was made with you before further misunderstandings can develop.”

The human mechanic from Earth flexes his fingers under the table as he tries to think. He’s among the furthest things from a politician. His plan was entirely meant to be a large-scale prank, and given the response of the young blond man, he was fairly successful. Arguments can be made for the value of joining with the Empire, but Daniel is far outside of his element. Foregoing his reputation and making a joke of the highly contentious noble society are fine with him, but if he were to seriously step into the fray, he would be devoured quickly by the snakes, sharks, and rats waiting for a sucker like him.

Daniel asks rhetorically, “I’m wondering, Duke Walliskah. Is it wise for the Empress to begin planning a wedding when we haven’t discussed any sort of marriage agreement?”

The visitor cocks his head. “Forgive me, your Grace, but you already accepted the Empress’s proposal, did you not?”

Daniel goes silent. That was, in fact, the prank at play. He looks at Aramellianna, specifically, who is equally exasperated with him. “The Duke is correct, your Majesty. You agreed to the marriage without terms.”

“That’s… Alright… Listen…” The mechanic is flustered; his inexperience in this area finally rearing its ugly head.

“You brought this on yourself, Mukori,” retorts Ryuogriar bluntly.

“You all joined me!” retorts the human just as quickly.

“Yes, and I would again.” She crosses her arms and looks away, while Hekate grumbles, “Now you know how it feels, Daniel. ‘An Emperor’s words are law’.”

The mechanic palms his face, trying to think. It certainly seemed like a good idea at the time.

Geirahoel is surprisingly the one to come to Daniel’s rescue. “Before Mu-... Emperor Daniel kos Lawson will wed the Empress of the Grand Zenkon Empire, he will be marrying his chosen consorts from amongst us. If the young Empress does not agree to accept this and continues to make moves on her own, she will be igniting a direct confrontation with the dragons of the Fievegal.”

This finally causes the color to drain from the duke’s expression. He starts to reply, “I… The Empire will begin sanctions against trade if the wedding is…”

Geirahoel glares at him, and he cuts off his sentence. She retorts haughtily, “My daughters are going to hatch soon, which means my legacy will be secure. The reclusive dragons your Empress knows are no more. Return to your Empress and inform her that, if she wishes to unite with the Fievegal through marriage, she will abide by our whims. If this is unacceptable, then she should consider how best to meet us in the future. Wishing to be left alone has not worked for us, so perhaps we will begin making reciprocal moves to adjust the borders of the map.”

Walliskah swallows hard and steadies himself, regaining his composure as best as he can. “I shall relay your words to her Imperial Majesty. If I may, though; one last purpose for my presence as a Duke and Margrave of the Empire is to establish more secure communications between the Empire and the Fievegal. Her Majesty acknowledges the concern raised by the warning letter sent by your Grace, Emperor Daniel.”

The mechanic cocks his head, and Reignleif speaks up. “You mean the messages exchanged regarding Twilight?”

The duke nods his head respectfully. “That is correct. It is… dangerous terrain between the Imperial Capital and the Citadel. Fortunately, her Grace, Empress Ryuogriar had the foresight to use redundancies.”

The platinum-blonde smirks proudly. “Ahhh. Then, it seems there might be hope for the Empire yet. Isn’t that right, Mukori?” She sends Daniel a facetious and teasing look.

Daniel thinks for a moment, and Wenlianna leans closer to ask, “Daniel? What’s the problem? Can’t we just…”

He shakes his head, but an idea hits him just as quickly. He doesn’t want to share the magic radio technology yet, since it is a critical technology for internal long range communications, and he doesn’t know the best way to ‘tune’ different frequencies into the magic devices as he would their mundane counterparts. That would mean the Empire would be on the same channel as the Fievegal, allowing the Empire to hear all communications and troop movements of the Fievegal.

However, when he looks at Kalegrynten, he has the perfect solution; a solution that went almost hand-in-hand with the establishment of the railroads.

“As it turns out, Duke Walliskah, the noble country of Mattarglos has just recently agreed to a provisional international communication and trade treaty that includes a method of reliable long-range communication. If you feel that the Empress will accept a service contract for such a system, we’ll send a drafted contract and communication treaty for her to review.”

“Some sort of dedicated mages for telepathy, your Grace?” asks the duke curiously.

“Nope. It’ll be a fixed magic device. It’s extremely simple and reliable, and can be used to connect virtually any number of locations once we make the initial connections. In this hypothetical scenario, the communication station could be used to send messages directly to the Citadel as well as to Mattarglos and the Empire for all parties connected.”

“With your wording, am I to understand that all messages will pass through the Fievegal?” asks the nobleman astutely as everyone else rightfully listens quietly.

Doephluev replies smugly, “Is that not the privilege of using our generosity to share this technology, Duke Walliskah? Surely you and your Empress would not expect my Beloved Imperial Ruler to simply gift you one of our superior tactical advantages.”

The aging man sighs a little, replying, “Your Imperial Grace makes a reasonable point. I shall relay all that was discussed to her Enlightened Majesty, and we shall await your contact.”

Hekate whispers to Daniel, and he nods in agreement with her. She stands up and declares, “Very well then. You will have our message in no more than five days. Please inform the Empress at your earliest convenience. For the time being, allow us to have a small banquet to celebrate the first of hopefully many good interactions between the Grand Zenkon Empire, Mattarglos, and the Fievegal.”

Duke Walliskah smiles and bows at the waist. “You honor me, your Imperial Greatness.”

Hekate smiles proudly, while everyone stands up to allow the Duke to leave respectfully until the agreed upon dinner time.

Kalegrynten approaches Daniel, who encourages Hekate’s professional behavior as the ruling Empress.

“Ah, Kalegrynten. Sorry about that. But, I had the idea as soon as it was mentioned. The method I briefly hinted at is a happy middle ground that we can share.”

The gatonine grandfather laughs warmly, replying, “I was confused for a moment, but I suppose I’m getting old. Perhaps I briefly forgot our conversation.”

Daniel winks with a grin, and Wenlianna squeezes close, her notebook already at the ready. “Daniel! How could you!?”

Daniel laughs, replying politely, “It’s a step backwards from what we have! Plus, I had to brainstorm how to make the wires, since we don’t exactly have an extruder.”

“Ex… tru… der…” repeats the magic artisan as she writes, and she points at him. “It’s my job to fill in the gaps, Daniel!”

The others laugh at them, and Geirahoel teases with her feisty tone, “How dare you keep secrets, Mukori. It seems you’ll need to be disciplined again.”

This awkward statement makes the room fall silent, and the orange dragon realizes it. She blushes, whining, “I mean-...! You’ll have to… Start sharing everything better!” She huffs and storms off, though it’s from embarrassment more than anger.

Daniel explains, “I’m not an expert on drawing wire, but I think I remember some of the basics.”

“What’s wrong with what you have been doing?” asks Hekate curiously. “Don’t the Iron Buckrokhs use wire?”

“I used the Citadel for those,” replies Daniel, hoping that’s enough. Hekate seems to piece it together, understanding that he is trying to find an alternative because of the already-massive mana drain the military operations are.

“Which, if you’d like to offset the cost that we’ll eventually be charging Mattarglos for the wire runs, we’ll accept raw copper in trade,” states Daniel, directed to the nobles of Mattarglos, including Kalegrynten, Veiranoei, and Gwenesphia’s family.

“Raw copper, you say?” confirms Goelselmo.

Daniel nods politely. “Ore or impure copper directly as mined. I know it has some applications already, but it’ll be one of the best options for the telegraph.”

“Tel… eh… graph…” murmurs Wenlianna as she scribbles, having already filled a page with notes just since the conversation started.

“I’d go through the Grand Duchy, but we’ll need a lot of it, and we’ll be crossing enemy territory,” explains Daniel.

Aramellianna smiles and nods. “I figured that was the case, your Grace. I’ll use my connections to apply pressure to increase the capacity of our ports to bypass those who would stand in our way.”

“For now, we’re going to investigate the monsters,” explains Daniel. “All of this will be problematic if our construction crews are attacked while running the telegraph and rail lines, or if the utilities are destroyed by monsters.”

“Actually, before that, your Grace…” starts Yanidere. When everyone looks at her, she explains, “There have been a large number of requests by various nobles to meet the Fievegal’s Imperial Family for an audience, and since her Greatness agreed to the audience with Duke Walliskah…”

Daniel looks at Hekate, whose ears droop. Her crown fits well, with the chains on the outer sides of her ears flexing in response to her expressive fox-like features. She gives a sheepish smile, replying, “I… Y-Yani said… i-it’s a good way to raise the strength of the Fievegal…”

Daniel sighs. He pets Hekate’s head gently. “You’re both absolutely right, your Greatness. If you wish to make connections, then let’s see what they have to say.”

She smiles brightly, and Daniel can tell that those of his allies who are of aristocratic backgrounds are relieved.

Thankfully, once the official audience begins, it seems that lower and middle-ranking nobles from various kingdoms and the Empire have come to mainly gauge the Fievegal’s leadership and how best to capitalize on the potential for trading west of the mountains; something that has been unprecedented in the long history of conflict between them.

***