Reivan was told that his wife would return from the kingdom sometime after noon, but someone else came to find him instead.

  "Hey, there." Hector waved from the other end of the hallway.

  Casually too, as if nothing was strange about him being where he was. In Samsara instead of Aizen.

  "...What the hell are you doing here?" Reivan asked with a cocked brow.

  "Well, the Samsaran weather's under control now, so I thought it was about time to drop by." Hector shrugged before jerking his chin toward the window. "Didn't expect it to be so cold, though. My balls would have shrunken to the size of peas if it weren't for my artifacts. But I suppose this is better than the heat because artifacts can still help."

  Reivan grunted before he walked over and csped hands with his best friend in this life. Well, both lives, really, because he didn't have a friend in the previous one. Regardless of the surprising nature of the man's visit, Reivan was gd to see him. "Good to have you here. Where's my sister, by the way?"

  Hector shook his head. "Mimi said she'll come here with the baby when the artifact we ordered is finished. It's specially made for babies. We're afraid that our little one will eat it or roll over it. So we want it fitted for her foot or her tail."

  "Ah. Temperature Neutralization?"

  "Uh-huh. Even if she's a strong little one, we don't want to risk it with how cold it is here," he said while idly drawing a cartoon cat on the frosted window’s gss.

  ‘Why’s he so good at that…?’

  Reivan grinned, punching his friend in the arm. "Look at you, being all fatherly and shit."

  Hector chuckled with a big smile on his face. "Ah, well. It happens. Your time will come too. But I beat you to it, though. Don't forget."

  "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and gloat, for all I care."

  "I guess I finally beat you in something, huh!"

  Reivan didn't retort, just smiling as he enjoyed his friend's happiness. "You got a portrait of her? Lemme see."

  “Sure thing. You won’t believe how cute she is. She’s got her mother’s… well, everything. Even her race. There's nothing of me in my daughter, but that's the best part because there are two of Mimi now.” Hector grinned, almost pulling something out, only to stop at the st moment. "You know what? Nevermind. I don't wanna ruin the reveal. Just wait, they'll be here within this week anyway."

  "You're making too big a deal out of this, but fine." he shook his head and chuckled in exasperation. "By the way, where's my wife...? She was supposed to be here instead of you."

  "Oh, Helen? She said she'd stay in Aizen for a few more days. Maybe she'll come here together with Mimi and our kid."

  "Hah? Why? That wasn't in the pns..."

  "Your nieces kept crying about missing her. And you too, so you should probably visit soon."

  "Oh yeah..." Reivan covered his mouth, remembering that he hadn't dropped by for months now.

  It wasn't as if he was that busy with stately affairs either. He just had too little time to spend when he was juggling between two lovers. Thinking about the adorable nieces he'd unintentionally neglected stung him a little. Going back to Aizen for a bit was a breeze with the teleportation gates installed underneath the pace.

  But he wasn’t afraid to admit that he felt guilty about using them for nonessential business. After all, it wasn't as if the teleportation gates ran on the power of love and friendship.

  Though inconsequential enough that he was never told to tone down his usage of it, each activation still had a cost.

  Besides, there were plenty of knights and even some priests here in Samsara. And all of them were far from home, friends, and loved ones, just like he was. But they couldn’t use the teleportation gates as freely as the goddamned prince of Aizen or the Hierarch of Samsara could. Obviously, he’d feel bad about indulging himself when so many people were enduring homesickness all around him.

  Reivan felt as if it was his responsibility to endure loneliness together with them.

  Of course, if he had a very good reason to return to Aizen for a bit, then it wouldn’t hurt to stay for an extra day or two before coming back to Samsara. But no such good reasons had arisen these past few months. Messages could be delivered remotely through reys too, so he didn’t need to make the trip just because he needed to send a report to his brother.

  All of that resulted in the unfortunate reality that he’d been unable to step foot on home soil for months. Considering how he’d spent the majority of the previous year overseas as well, he was struggling with quite an intense bout of homesickness that he was barely beating down by indulging in the loving embraces of his wives.

  Helen doing it was fine, however, because she was pregnant and he wanted her looked at by more experienced priests and physicians than the ones who were here in Samsara. Strong as she was, one could never be too certain. Rond's birth mother, after all, had still died from childbirth even though she probably received the most extensive care the kingdom had to offer at the time.

  “Can we talk elsewhere, though? I feel awkward just standing around,” Hector said as he started to stroll down the hallway. “I even brought some good stuff from back home. A few older acquaintances gave me some vintage to celebrate being a father. Some of these are more than two hundred years old, y'know!”

  “It’s a bit too early to drink. But what the hell, let's go.” Reivan chuckled, jogging a little to take the lead. “I'm sure there's an empty parlor somewhere around here. Follow me.”

  “Right,” Hector grunted before his tone seemingly lost a bit of energy. “So. How is it going? Ruling the nation and all that. I heard some things, but I wanna hear how it really is from you.”

  Reivan didn’t gnce back and he didn’t need to. Because he knew what his friend was truly asking. “About as well as it could be, I reckon. We technically haven't suffered a defeat in battle yet, but it feels like every win tastes like shit, y’know what I mean?”

  They haven’t lost any knights yet, thank whatever gods were looking over them. But in every battle, numerous Arkhanians would be lost. And triumph was never truly just victory—it was always mixed with loss of some kind that would make what was supposed to be sweet taste bitter.

  “Sounds rough…” Hector muttered to himself before hesitating to ask, “Are you okay?”

  There was a deeper meaning to the question. One that Reivan didn’t miss. “I am. I think so, at least.”

  “That’s good. You don't sound as sure as I wanted, but that’s great.”

  Probably looking to change the subject to something more cheerful and lighthearted, Hector walked up to nudge Reivan with his shoulder. In a hushed tone, Hector gossiped. “So, how’s it going with that Arkhanian beauty from st time? Mira, or whatever her name was. You sweethearts with her yet, or what? Did ya add her the roster already?”

  “Ah.” Reivan chuckled and tried not to do it too awkwardly. “Yeah, things didn’t really work out with her…”

  Hector's face stiffened. "Uh, y-yeah? Shit. Fuck me for asking then..."

  Mira still actually resided within the pace because even if she’d decred her intention to cut off any romance between them, her spirit beast was still a Spirit King Seed and had to be watched by the kingdom.

  But even though they were physically close, the st time they had talked was on the day they looked at Aldimir and Alini’s corpses. They still saw each other, here and there, even when he didn’t specifically come looking for her. But done were the days when they would close the distance to have a chat or engage in banter.

  “Hey, Hector.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember that perverted Arkhanian guy I told you about? The one who reminded me of you?”

  “I remember. Now, what was his name again…?” Hector hummed in thought for a moment. “Ah. Right. Aldimir, yeah? What about him?”

  “Well, he’s dead.”

  Hector's steps slowed as his face stiffened. “Oh...”

  Reivan also slowed down to match his pace, looking at one of the first friends he’d ever made, whether it be in this life or the one before it. “Don’t die on me too, alright?”

  Now, Hector could have answered nonchantly or made sport of how one could never truly be sure as a knight. But instead, Hector nodded with a calm smile and all the seriousness Reivan wanted behind the words.

  “I won’t," Hector decred with a firm tone. "I won't let my daughter grow up without a father. She won't be like me. She doesn't deserve that.”

  “That’s a damn good reason not to die, if I’ve ever heard one.” Reivan chuckled, hooking an arm around his best friend’s shoulder.

  They didn’t come often, but today seemed like a good day to get drunk before the sun even set.

  Today was not, in fact, a good day to get drunk before the sun even set.

  At around three in the afternoon, a very red-faced Reivan was sought out by a very annoyed Jiji. He instinctively didn’t make a big deal out of it, because he didn’t have any official duties requiring his attention today, and what the bzing hells was wrong with letting loose a little? But he immediately sobered up when he heard that there was an imperial delegation waiting outside of Lageton.

  Reivan left Hector passed out and hugging a bottle the size of a toddler in the parlor they were drinking in and rushed to the walls, where he took a look at the so-called delegation with [Supreme Insight]. He was surprised to find that none of the ten men were espers, nor were any of them particurly strong except for six people in full pte who were clearly Imperial Vanguards.

  The other four were weak, even by the standards of a mundane person. And old too, so their cims of being diplomats held some weight. Despite them trying not to show it, they were even shivering from the cold.

  “Why weren’t they shot on sight?” Reivan asked the nearby battlemage. Or just mage. He couldn’t tell who had spirit beasts these days unless he specifically used his special ability.

  The portly battlemage’s face fell. “My apologies, Your Excellency. But I wanted orders just to be sure… Should I shoot them now?”

  “No. I’m already here anyway. May as well see what these bastards came all the way here for.”

  Reivan gathered ten of the nearest knights plus his sister before jumping down from Lageton’s walls, unwilling to let the imperials in. No hospitality would be given to these people. Wherever he ruled, Argonians wouldn't be allowed to get close enough for their spit to nd on Samsaran soil.

  Part of him almost wanted to go alone to meet the uninvited guests. Because he was strong enough and because it would stroke that insignificant bit of ego he had at the back of his mind. But he'd been burnt too many times in his interactions with Argonia to let arrogance take its toll. He could easily say he hated these people and most of what they stood for, but they certainly weren't utterly incompetent.

  That's why he took the safer approach of taking more people with him than he felt he needed to. And just to look a bit more imposing, he summoned Dom as a mount too, despite its disgruntlement.

  The distance was closed quickly, and though the Argonians grew visibly wary, they didn’t tremble nor did they cower—which was hard difficult stance to maintain when almost a dozen warriors in full pte charged at you at great speeds and one of them was riding a giant white wolf.

  “Argonians,” Reivan spoke in the cursed Argonian tongue with unconcealed disdain. “To what do I owe this displeasure?”

  After a moment, one of the bookish men stepped forward and bowed a little. “Greetings. We are a delegation sent by His Imperial Highness, Prince Axion Stran Argonia. Please be assured that we have come here bearing well wishes.”

  ‘Axion…?’

  Reivan easily recalled the name. It was that one prince that, for some reason, was immune to [Supreme Insight] and had come a little close to killing Reivan. Dangerous fellow, that one. He didn't like that bastard one bit. Though he supposed he disliked Argonians as a whole these days.

  Regardless, the delegation didn’t seem to be lying about believing that they bore well wishes. So Reivan was slightly inclined to entertain them, if not for the sole purpose of extracting information from them.

  Entertaining them didn’t mean letting them into the city or offering them hospitality, however.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” Reivan lied as he gestured in Lageton’s direction. “But you must understand that many in this city despise your people for past atrocities committed. So welcoming you inside is extremely unwise for public order.”

  It would also be a significant undertaking to salt the nd they tread on after they left, but he didn't bother saying it aloud.

  The envoys clearly didn’t like the notion of being refused entry to the civilization, but it showed how experienced they were when they didn’t show their displeasure in the open. If he hadn’t been paying attention to their Favor stat, he would have missed the cues too.

  “We will offer you some refreshments and freshly cooked meals, however. I’m sure your travels stopped you from preparing anything eborate.” Reivan smiled, fully intending to give them subpar fare that he wouldn’t serve even to servants.

  Taking him at face value, the delegate bowed again. “We would appreciate that, yes. Something warm would do us wonders.”

  “Of course. However, you’ll have to forgive the ck of quality, for our humble country's food production capabilities are understandably cking. In any case, you all should rest for now. We’ll talk when your bones are less weary.”

  Reivan turned right around and left.

  The stupid Argonians were very thankful for the hot meals they were provided, not knowing the people who’d prepared them had mixed some spit or snot into the soup.

  Reivan, of course, hadn’t explicitly ordered such things done.

  But all it took was to inform the soup kitchen cook—who was one of the many young women he personally rescued a few months back—that Argonians would be eating it for her to get the idea. Truly, it was a wonderful thing to be on the same wavelength as the people he ruled over. She even wanted to piss on the soup too, but he stopped her because it would be too noticeable. It would have been a shame if the Argonians didn't eat it, wasting all of the cook's efforts to add her own special brand of fvoring to the meal.

  He would have enjoyed toying with them personally even more, but Jiji said that it was unbecoming for the ruler himself to speak to mere envoys from part of a nation they were supposed to be at war with. So she took it upon herself to talk to them in his stead.

  And some of the information she extracted shed light on certain mysteries regarding the empire’s recent strange behavior.

  “So that’s why they've been fighting each other…” Reivan, on the eve of the second day since the imperial delegation’s arrival, sat in a private parlor and sipped on what remained of the good stuff that Hector shared with him. “They were never allies from the start.”

  Jiji sat in front of him, also enjoying a gss of Hector’s wine. She’d only recently turned eighteen and was growing to be quite the drinker already. “That’s what they said.”

  According to her, dozens of imperial princes and princesses were granted a certain number of troops and sent out to establish themselves in the ravaged nds of Arkhan.

  Basically, they were doing what Reivan was doing right now, forming vassal nations for the nation they truly belonged to. Except the imperial princes weren’t doing it to serve Argonian interests, they were doing it to prove themselves worthy of the imperial throne. As it turned out, the next emperor would be chosen from one of them depending on their results here.

  Kind of like a proving grounds or a test of sorts.

  And so, the imperials didn’t see each other as allies but as rivals. The alliances and coalitions they formed were purely for the sake of taking out what remained of Arkhanian resistance before they could turn their bdes on each other. For them, the other imperials were bigger threats to their goals than Reivan was. In fact, they would prefer him not to interfere and to just quietly mind his own business while they fought each other.

  'Argonia's not making sense again...'

  Reivan and Samsara were right here, being very dangerous neighbors, yet these madmen were so eager to fight each other? What a bunch of nutjobs. There was something seriously wrong with that entire nation.

  “Is that what they came here for?” Hector, who had sat in on the meeting by sheer nature of being stuck with Reivan, chimed in. “To tell us to bugger off while they killed each other?”

  Gwendolyn shook her head as she stood slightly behind Reivan’s seat. “That is not the case. This Prince Axion has proposed an alliance between his faction and ours. He states that we stand to gain much from this.”

  “And what, pray tell," Reivan raised a brow, "would we have to gain from this so-called alliance where we definitely won't stab the other in the back?”

  Jiji’s feline ears twitched. Hesitation colored her face for a moment before she answered. “In their words, 'We have seen how the prince’s undying love for the common popuce, even infiltrating enemy camps just to rescue a few hundred sves. Should our partnership be profitable, it would not be beyond impossibility to return some of the ensved Arkhanians.'”

  Reivan clicked his tongue. “Motherfuckers…”

  He cursed them some more, inside his head. Not because he thought they were being underestimated.

  But because he was actually tempted.

  The number of people he’d rescued wasn’t small. But an even rger number of them were undoubtedly ensved. After all, only the attractive female Arkhanians weren’t sent to Argonia by the first army he fought with. And that only accounted for a minority. As for the Western Expedition, he had gotten to them a bit te already, so he didn’t have many people to rescue.

  In other words, there was a vast number of Arkhanians who were unaccounted for.

  “Terms?” Gwen asked, already preparing her clipboard and an enchanted fountain pen.

  “They’re not telling us to fight side by side with them.” Jiji crossed her legs and sighed. “They want to trade food and weapons for Arkhanian sves, in addition to a separate proposal."

  "What proposal?" Reivan asked with a bitter expression.

  "They will reveal information about opposing factions and we’re expected to deal with those. For each of Axion’s competitors we take out, he’ll give us a million sves back.”

  Hector whistled. “A million. That is a lot of people…”

  Jiji nodded and continued. “They know we won’t necessarily trust any contracts or agreements, so we’re encouraged to take said imperial royalty as hostages. That way, we have leverage until Axion’s side actually delivers what is promised. If they don’t fulfill their end of the bargain, then we can do what we want with the hostages. In my opinion, we can also release them with the information that Axion is working with us, which will diminish the other imperial factions' trust in him.”

  Reivan drummed his fingers against his p and turned to Gwen. “What is the estimated number of people ensved by Argonia? One million for every imperial prince’s head feels too cking when we consider how much they probably have.”

  Before Gwen could answer, Jiji cut in. “I actually thought of that too, but their argument was that they didn’t get that many sves during the chaos. Apparently, they were whisked off by some other force. They thought we did it, so they’re confused that we think they have more.”

  “... It’s those Sons of Arkhan,” Reivan muttered, putting down his empty gss. “So they did manage to save the majority of the popution.”

  ‘The question is, where the hell are they right now?’

  Aizen had a very high popution density, but it was, in essence, a small country. Yet it had more than a hundred million people within. The test census pced it at a hundred and twenty, without the warbeasts or the darkin.

  Arkhan, on the other hand, was a ginormous country in comparison. And though not every part of it was teeming with people, it had metropolises with plenty of people squeezed in as well. According to stolen intel from the republic in the past, it had a little less than five hundred million people spread throughout its nds—even though a lot of its territory was undeveloped or infested with powerful monsters.

  Even if a somewhat rge portion of the popution were killed as colteral damage in the fight to sy the Sage King and the grueling aftermath that loomed over the nation right after, there should still have been hundreds of millions of people remaining.

  Entire cities were apparently whisked off to who knew where right before Argonian forces reached them, so there must have been dozens of millions of people rescued at least. Maybe it actually exceeded a hundred million people, which was crazy to think about because that was the kingdom’s entire popution.

  Of course, only the regions closer to the northern reaches of the republic seemed to have benefited from the mysterious organization's saving hand, but where the hell were all those people now? Seriously.

  They couldn’t possibly be in Pentagoria. The small continent couldn’t handle the infusion of such a considerable quantity of refugees. Both the kingdom and Elsa had informants there too, so he would have been informed at some point.

  Few pces in the world could fit a hundred million people in it, and he couldn’t figure out where the Sons of Arkhan hid theirs.

  ‘If only I could get in contact with Filth…’

  With any hope, that unlucky guy was still alive and they’d meet again. Now, however, there was no use in thinking about this any longer.

  “A million still sounds too low,” Reivan shrugged. “And they can’t have come to us expecting their initial proposal to be accepted. There is much room for bargaining. Dear Sister, please do your best to find the limits of what they are willing to give and force concessions a bit above that. Let's push their buttons.”

  Jiji raised a brow. “So we’re agreeing to their proposal?”

  Reivan snorted, making it very clear that he didn’t want to. “Yes. But I don’t want it to be called an alliance or something. This is a transaction. And I’ll hit them in the back of the head the first chance I get.”

  She giggled, standing up and taking a bow. “Alright, I'll see what I can do. Ah, it would be useful to keep them out in the cold for a few more days. That’ll make things easier for me, since their spirits will be a bit more broken.”

  “How cruel. I love it.”

  He ughed wantonly, because he would have agreed to her wicked suggestion even if she didn’t have a perfectly good reason for it.

  AnnouncementChapter Word Count: 3986Last Edited: March 26, 2025