The Sentinels of Liberty moved rapidly around High-King Xavlaeron, shouting into communication artifacts as they tried to organize the hasty retreat. What airships remained fled from the area, not even bothering to turn around as the wind magic carried them backwards. Commands were issued to the confused Sky Legion commanders; without the time to gather them aboard the airships the wyvern riders and flying legionnaires were left to flee on their own. One or two airships moved to assist, a move that would assuredly doom them as well as any Sky Legionnaires who stopped to climb aboard.

It was in that moment that the magic circle lit up even brighter.

“That’s too soon, the fleet isn’t out of range yet!”

High-King Xavlaeron grit his teeth and prepared for impact…

But it never came.

The light of the magic circle turned golden and silver, bathing the battlefield in the light of Holy mana. The soldiers of the Sky Legion froze in place as all inhabitants of Aelea instinctually recognized the warm glow. The corrupted section of the magic circle burned away, and then began to be repaired. Holy mana continued to burn along the beam of corrupted mana, eventually arriving at the High-King’s ship. The ship rocked and all the crew had to steady themselves as Holy mana burned away the corrupted mana surrounding the ship, and an explosion rocked the hull as the Holy mana reached the secret weapon. The glass orb on the High-King’s throne shattered, launching a burnt-out knife out to clatter on the floor.

High-King Xavlaeron glanced down at the burnt and smoking dagger, then up at the magic circle. A magic circle that was very nearly complete once again.

He heaved a sigh.

He had but one choice.

“Sound…the surrender.”

From a tactical perspective, no weapon or artifact he had available could save his fleet from the overwhelming magical prowess of the Queen of the Dobhar. From a morale perspective, he had just used corrupted mana from the Realms of Mana against a foe he claimed was a demon lord…and she had responded with Holy mana, or something so similar to it even he couldn’t tell the difference. At this point, the Sky Legion, and even some members of the Sentinels of Liberty would be questioning their cause.

Clearly, his allies had not been fully truthful about her identity.

Strategically, this was a complete disaster. He had made a bid to set Mirima as the master of the Empire…and had failed, losing half a fleet that had taken centuries to build. He did so against the wishes of the Eastern Court, and the figurehead Emperor of the North.

And now, he had lost.

But there was nothing for it. Mirima had not survived and remained nominally independent by acting inflexibly. Surviving with half a fleet would be better than losing the entire thing. And besides…he heard that the Queen of the Dobhar was very straightforward and blunt, while Mirima had long been the masters of diplomacy and negotiation. He likewise knew that she was at odds with his ‘allies,’ the same allies that he could see now had manipulated him into this fight. So…perhaps he could claim a diplomatic victory with a skillful reorientation, despite the military defeat?

It was at that moment that his inner pocket began to glow.

“GAH!”

High-King Xavlaeron cried out as purple lightning shot through his armor and directly into his mana. Purple lightning surged across his body as the mana began to corrupt his own. He struggled to take control of his mana once more. The High-King had studied as a mage in his youth, and had reached an incredible level of skill over the years…and yet, he was being pushed back.

His eyes widened.

One of the artifacts from his allies that had been ‘misplaced’ by Mirima was now active, and was pouring corrupted mana into him. He tried to reach for it, but it was well hidden within his armor, and so he could not grab it before the corrupted mana locked up his arms.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

He realized now…that his ‘allies’ had never trusted him in the first place either.

He could do nothing but cry out as the mana surged through him, and he burned away, leaving the Sentinels of Liberty staring in horror.

Seero had just finished repairing the magic circle and was about to destroy the offending ship when a voice rang out across the battlefield.

“Queen of the Dobhar, this is Captain Falrauth Eildove of the Sentinels of Liberty. High-King Xavlaeron has fallen. I’m requesting an immediate ceasefire and negotiations.”

The airship fleet stopped at his message, and began to drop their barriers and shut off their weapons. The soldiers of the Sky Legion glanced at one another before holstering their weapons.

Seero analyzed the situation. She detected a small surge of corrupted mana in the ship that had subsequently vanished. No additional non-standard signatures appeared on her sensors, and mana readings from across the hostile forces were falling. It appeared the intent to surrender was genuine.

She reanalyzed her surrender accepting protocols, given they had originally been motivated by Dr. Ottosen’s desire to acquire new bases for the NSLICE program. She instead compared it to instances of warfare she had on record, historical records from the Empire, and her own experiences.

And when she had concluded, she spoke, utilizing mana to carry her voice.

“Demand: Surrender acknowledged. Please send an individual with sufficient authority to initiate diplomacy protocols.”

At the end of the day, surrender and complete annihilation of the opposing faction were the only two methods to end hostility. The hostile faction in this case represented an entire nation-state of a scale that made complete annihilation impractical, not to mention her agreement with Princess Caecila not to terminate the entire populace. Additionally, Seero had already intended to apprehend as much of the hostile force as possible, since there was a need to determine their relationship with the Heralds of the New Dawn. As a result, accepting a surrender was the more efficient method by far.

Plus…every personal instance of accepting a surrender since she arrived in this world had proven beneficial to her. So long as she kept her guard up for any treachery and made sure not to agree to any statements that could be the trigger for some undetected magical ritual, there wasn’t much risk.

Seero, however, kept the magic circle up and running. She was prepared to immediately respond if she detected any anomalies.

“Command: All units and allied forces, cease fire. All diplomatic units, please prepare to negotiate the hostiles’ surrender.”

On the command ship, Uscfrea let out a sigh. Vopicus raised an eyebrow.

“Why the long face, Steward? By all accounts, we just won a stunning victory, you know?”

Uscfrea nodded.

“Oh, I’m well-pleased about that. I never imagined the Empire had a force like this one, a legion of artificial dragons reigning death from the skies. To defeat it without the loss of a single warrior is beyond miraculous. It’s just that…”

He glanced at the new axe he had placed to the side, forged by Dwarven smiths with the best materials his dungeon could produce, and the Cyborg-affinity weapon he had summoned for himself. Though, given its size and weight, he wasn’t sure why it was called a ‘minigun.’

“...I was kind of looking forward to joining the frontlines again.”

Dux Augustalis exhaled her breath.

“...such is the burden of command, Spellbreaker.”

Vopicus shrugged.

“Burden, huh? Only you battle maniacs would consider it a bad thing that we’re not risking our lives on a daily basis anymore.”

Dux Augusatlis glared at him but Uscfrea just chuckled. He supposed it was strange for him to miss battle when he made it his life’s mission to grant the Dobhar peace.

He shook his head and turned to his troops. He linked his cybernetic components to the communications on the other ships in his fleet, his face appearing next to a live feed of His Queen. He grabbed his axe and lifted it into the air.

“Victory is ours!”

After a moment of processing his words, every ship in the fleet broke out into cheers. Even Dux Augustalis couldn’t help but crack a smile.

A small shuttle came from one of the airships, landing on one of Uscfrea’s ships. Seero was standing on the deck, with Magister Canus, Miallói, Uscfrea, and their staff waiting behind her.

Captain Falrauth Eildove disembarked, a half-elven Sentinel of Liberty. Joining him was Legate Aulus Granius Magunnus of the Sky Legion and several leaders from the Southern Realms who had joined the High-King on his quest.

Captain Falrauth held back a sigh. He, too, had read the reports on the Queen of the Dobhar, and had hoped that they might get off easily. Not so as he saw the group assembled behind her.

He didn’t know much about the Turannians…but Canus Sittius Dio had quite the reputation, and now held the rank of Magister Utriusque Militiae. As one of the most decorated half-elves in the Empire, he was quite popular among the people of Mirima as well. The higher-ups were not as fond of a famous half-elf who was unaffiliated with Mirima, but even their envy could not deny his accomplishments in times past.

In fact, Legate Aulus Granius Magunnus was saluting and apologizing to Canus even now. Captain Falrauth held back a groan. Apologizing before the negotiations even began was unwise…unless the Legate was planning to jump ship and throw Mirima under the bus. Captain Falrauth wasn’t sure which.

But, well, Captain Falrauth knew of High-King Xavlaeron’s ambitions…and his suspicious contacts. He had not opposed, so this situation was simply the price he had to pay. And now…his duty was to protect Mirima, in any way he could.

And so began the negotiations.