(Fumina: The Damazti has no gender so I'll use they/them from now on. I used she/her in the last chapter because they were in the form of the Sarkaz maid.)
The Nachzehrer King harbored a deep, growing suspicion that his inner gears were completely malfunctioning. He was genuinely beginning to question if he had overexerted his rotten Arts lately, causing his ancient mind to fall into utter disarray. How else could he explain the spectacular volume of bizarre occurrences slamming into him day after day?
First, the Monarch had reclaimed the entire nation in a stunningly brief window, driving the Regent into complete exile with zero clues left behind as to where the man had vanished. Then, Laterano had acted so completely subdued it was as if they hadn't received a single scrap of intelligence regarding the fall of the capital; the ancient warlord had held the border watches for days, only to catch absolutely nothing but the desert wind.
And now, this elusive shape-shifter had the audacity to stride back and claim their infiltration had been unraveled during their very first interaction with the targets? "When on earth did your legendary prowess plummet to such a pathetic depth?" he growled internally.
For the first time in his countless centuries of existence, the ancient warrior felt a chilling certainty that the current era had left him entirely behind. He was genuinely tempted to hand his crown to some ambitious youth within his legion and retreat to the ancestral marshlands to guard the tribal tombs for the rest of his days.
Watching the old veteran crumble into a crisis of confidence, a wave of pure amusement washed through the Damazti King. It was a spectacular twist; they had emerged from the exposed meeting entirely unscathed, while this fierce commander looked thoroughly battered by the mere report of it.
Perhaps this dynamic traced back to the antics of their youth? They distinctly recalled orchestrating a magnificent deception against him centuries ago, and it had taken the old warrior a massive window of time to realize they had played him for a complete fool.
"So, what is your immediate design?" the Damazti King whispered, leaning closer to their bandaged companion. "Will you venture forth to inspect the duo with your own eyes, or shall I devise a fresh approach? Alternatively, you could enlist the aid of the Banshee Queen over there; her child maintains a remarkably close bond with the targets. Or perhaps we should nudge our stubborn Vampire friend to test their mettle?"
The quiet inquiry was directed solely at the Nachzehrer King. In truth, this entire espionage operation had been his brainchild; he was intensely resolved to verify the exact nature of these mysterious wildcards who had dropped into their landscape.
He harbored zero interest in whatever secret arrangements the Monarch had forged with her foreign allies, nor did he possess any desire to micro-manage her sovereign rule over the unified tribes. His solitary focus was securing absolute proof that these unknown factors posed zero danger to the realm.
Had these strangers utilized some elaborate deception to manipulate Theresa, or did they harbor some sinister, hidden agenda beneath their helpful veneers? If so, he would absolutely never consent to letting Theresa guide the nation under their influence.
Though the two sovereigns maintained a hushed volume, their words still drifted across the chamber, catching the ears of the surrounding lords. It was a stroke of absolute luck that Theresa had temporarily departed the grand hall alongside Kal'tsit to address municipal affairs; otherwise, the Nachzehrer King would have undoubtedly faced a severe lecture from the Monarch.
The Banshee Queen, however, displayed zero interest in their petty chatter. If anything, she found this entire recess thoroughly tedious, as there was zero probability that the Royal Court would ever rally to depose the rightful Monarch anyway.
In stark contrast, the Vampire Great Duke's reaction was remarkably peculiar. The fierce warlord sat completely motionless in his high chair, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as if he were nursing a catastrophic, unhealed wound, his rigid posture radiating an intense desire to escape this cursed chamber at the very first opportunity.
The other lords had already noted that the Vampire Great Duke—historically the most vocal opponent of Theresa's peaceful faction—had been astonishingly compliant throughout the morning assembly. He hadn't raised a single volatile argument, nor had he displayed his trademark arrogance, remaining completely passive.
In reality, the Great Duke felt as though he had stepped squarely into a massive pile of dog filth today. He was genuinely wondering if he had inadvertently offended some ancient entity during his recent blood feedings; from the moment he had crossed the palace threshold, a suffocating wave of dread had refused to leave his mind!
Connecting the dots between the Damazti's failed infiltration and the wild rumors of a pale blonde haired woman commanding terrifying, mythical predators, the Vampire would have to be completely brain-dead not to realize Jeanne was currently resting inside this very fortress!
And the Sanguinarch had been thoroughly beaten into absolute terror by that woman! It was a humiliating truth; throughout a lifetime of endless, bloody campaigns across Terra, Jeanne was the solitary figure who had branded his mind with such an unforgettable nightmare that the mere thought of her made his blood run cold.
He wasn't entirely surprised that the pale blonde haired warrior had materialized in Kazdel. Knowing Kal'tsit's bottomless web of connections, the ancient feline could drag any monstrous entity onto the board, though that particular Lynx remained one of the few figures the Duke could never fully decipher.
The other high kings easily saw through the Sanguinarch's cold, aloof exterior, catching the subtle tremors of panic rippling through his aura. Having locked horns with the stubborn old Vampire for centuries, they could read the slightest fluctuations in his temperament with absolute clarity.
The lords who had previously ignored him immediately shifted their focus toward his seat, their eyes saturated with profound curiosity. The prospect of the fearless Vampire Great Duke harboring a dark secret was far too entertaining a chronicle to ignore.
It was unprecedented to see him project such an intense aversion to a specific individual. This was a man whose stubborn vitality was legendary, a warrior who literally lacked the cognitive capacity for fear, yet he was openly radiating a desperate wish to avoid a confrontation.
"It appears our esteemed Grand Duke possesses firsthand intelligence regarding the matter at hand," the Damazti King remarked, a brilliant smirk gracing their fluid features. As a creature who lived and breathed the subtle shifts of emotion, they were absolutely never going to let such a magnificent display of discomfort pass without a direct interrogation. "Would the Duke care to illuminate the council with a few choice details?"
Instantly, the remaining eyes in the room locked onto his position. A collective intuition told them that this old Vampire had indeed crossed blades with the mysterious ally.
The Great Duke remained entirely mute, acting as though the inquiry hadn't even reached his ears. He was absolutely never going to open his mouth to broadcast the humiliating chronicle of how a foreign woman had pinned him to the dirt, nearly dissolving his consciousness into the collective Sarkaz soul-torrent, only for the Ursus Emperor's Blades to hunt him all the way to the frontier!
"If my memory serves me correctly, you sustained a spectacular degree of trauma a short while ago, Grand Duke," the Banshee Queen mused, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips as she leaned forward. "When you ventured into Ursus territory under Theresis's orders to retrieve the last pureblood Wendigo... your failure wasn't actually caused by Buldrokkas'tee, was it? Someone else entirely reduced you to that shattered state."
The revelation caused a sudden stir among the assembled kings. They all recalled the clandestine assignment Theresis had authorized. The venture had concluded in absolute silence, and they had collectively assumed the Vampire had simply been outmatched by the ancient Wendigo's raw might.
"Your tongue wags far too much, Banshee!" the Great Duke hissed, casting a lethal glare across the table. Yet, crucially, he offered zero denial to her claim, which amounted to an absolute admission of guilt in the eyes of the court.
Since the Queen had chosen to voice the matter openly, she undoubtedly possessed a reliable stream of data. As for her source, her own child was actively serving beneath the Monarch's banners, providing a direct pipeline to the capital's secrets.
The Duke remained uncertain as to how many specific details the Banshees had extracted. Though the ancient Lynx who orchestrated his recovery didn't seem like the type to indulge in petty palace gossip, a man could never maintain absolute certainty when it came to political secrets.
For all he knew, the scary woman herself might have been boasting to the entire castle regarding how she had crushed the Vampire Great Duke into the mud, nearly snuffing out his immortal spark.
"If the individual you encountered possesses pale, platinum-blonde hair, then I have indeed crossed paths with her," the Duke muttered, choosing to deliver a heavily sanitized summary to preserve whatever shred of dignity he had left. He also wanted to gauge exactly how much the Banshee Queen truly knew. "During that campaign, she aligned herself with the Wendigo to shatter our vanguard. Her ties to their lineage appear remarkably deep. As for her presence within these walls, it is likely a direct result of Lord Kal'tsit's meddling. Beyond that, I possess zero data."
He framed the encounter with calculated care, deliberately painting Jeanne as a secondary figure who had merely assisted Patriot from the shadows, making her seem like a minor support asset rather than the absolute force that had broken him.
The Banshee Queen offered no further comment. In truth, her data was far from complete; she had merely caught a few scattered phrases from her child a couple of days ago, who had marveled at a strange, foreign warrior capable of rendering herself entirely immune to originium Arts.
The surrounding kings nodded in silent contemplation, the pieces of the puzzle finally sliding into place. The realization that this mysterious powerhouse was an associate of the Wendigo altered their perception entirely, casting her in an infinitely better light.
The possibility of her being a malicious schemer dropped to a flat zero percent.
Their reasoning was remarkably simple: given Buldrokkas'tee's notoriously rigid, unyielding moral code, the old general would absolutely never tolerate a deceptive schemer in his presence. Had Jeanne harbored a twisted heart, the ancient Wendigo would have tried to cleave her in two long before she ever reached the Kazdel borders or die trying.
While the high lords had no intention of dropping their guard completely, the verified link to the legendary Wendigo caused their deep-seated hostility to evaporate substantially.
Right as the tension within the hall began to dissipate, the heavy oak doors swung open. Theresa and Kal'tsit re-entered the chamber, the Monarch's face cast in a stern, disapproving expression as her eyes locked directly onto the Damazti King.
The message was glaringly obvious: the clumsy espionage attempt in the guest quarters had already been thoroughly exposed to the throne. Yet, the shape-shifter's expression remained perfectly smooth and unbothered, acting as though the entire incident were completely unrelated to them as they calmly prepared for the resumption of the council.