Torgirm marveled at the Arcadian Craft Masters and Engineers who brought unthinkable wonders to life across many workshops Lord Theon ordered him to build. Torgirm always wanted to see such wonders but he never considered just giving people a chance. The advent of Arcadia and the rapid expansion of the Righteous Dungeon shocked him but he was even more shocked at the number of Dungeons already serving him. Their service wasn't the resentful compliance he had expected but an honest and fully invested commitment on their part. But Torgirm did not wonder why. Under the rules of Theon Avalon, mana was flowing like a powerful river, seemingly endless and plentiful for all the Dungeons to thrive. They no longer had to think twice, or thrice, about spending every single mana point. Even if they made a mistake or the skill tree they believed interesting and full of useful skills was a failure, Empress Hestia and other Eternals of Arcadia would easily grant them a blessing which allowed for the reallocation of the precious skill points again and again.

  For the first time in his life, Torgirm was free. Unbound by the laws he believed held him in a single place forever, he could travel between other Dungeons in service of his Lord. He met the other cores and discovered that they were interesting and friendly. Friendly... Until now, it was such an unfamiliar and utterly alien concept that he always wondered what it meant. Now he understood and enjoyed friendship for the first time in his life. A whole new world opened for him and he enjoyed every single moment of it. The Mortals were especially interesting. Their creativity surprised him and left him wondering how many talents had been lost because of his indifference. However, the Emperor ordered him to leave the past behind and focus on the future. So he did just that. There were still things that bothered him, like the fact that the Empresses of Arcadia were mostly Mortals. However, he acknowledged that he had much to learn and, so far, the best way to learn was to watch the Mortals and how they interacted with each other and with the Emperor.

  "This project is incredible..." One of the Mortals, named Lord Terion, said as he double checked the plans of their current project ship. "It's remarkably simple compared to the destroyers but, by the Gods, we can build them so fast! Four, maybe five weeks and the ship is ready."

  "Hmmm... It's going to be slightly underpowered but we can't fit more than one reactor..." One of the designers sighed.

  "Are you kidding me? Underpowered? Do you have any idea how much mana a single reactor provides?!" A Dwarven Lord named Ragnar chuckled in amusement. "If anything, that ship is overpowered for its size and available weapons. But that's good, since it has to be able to deploy two gunships or a gunship and a CB-90."

  "I'm thinking of testing some sponson mounts on the corvette. After all, those ships are going to be, mostly, used against ground targets." Ian was doodling on a piece of paper.

  "Hmmm... That's not a bad idea. If we add side sponsons, we could place a CIWS set and still keep them above the waterline." Terion nodded. "But forget about the VLS. The corvette is too short for that."

  "There's no need for VLS." Ian shrugged. "That ship won’t fire cruise missiles anyway. We will slap on a missile turret capable of firing the much smaller UMS-1 missiles. Let's start with storing between ten and twenty of the cheapest missiles - it would still have overwhelming firepower and, as a bonus, we will drastically cut on additional artillery turrets’ production. We can give them a one hundred to one-twenty millimetre cannon since the one fifty-five would just look stupid and, most probably, be less useful. The lower calibre cannon would be able to shoot faster without cooling issues."

  “Cheapest? Right..." Terion shook his head in disbelief, sighed, and pointed out another issue. "The cooling might be a problem anyway. The crew of that baby will consist of twenty? Thirty people?"

  "Thirty-five." Ragnar checked his notes. "Maybe thirty-six."

  "So, out of those thirty-five or six people, at least four have to be water or ice mages. I would like six but four is reasonable and would address some of the overheating issues. So that leaves us with what? Thirty plus the captain." Terion shook his head. "And you want to give them a CB to operate? They won't even have the Marines on board."

  "Well... They will need a boarding craft." Ragnar shrugged. "Maybe we just increase the size of the ship-"

  "Ah yes, now I see the logic. Let's increase the size of a border patrol ship." Terion retorted, interrupting the Dwarf. "At that point, we could build destroyers and not even bother with a corvette. No wonder that the Emperor claimed destroyers are the most versatile vessels!"

  That made Torgirm chuckle in amusement. He watched them bicker for a moment but it seemed that Lord Terion won. He managed to convince the other Craft Masters to keep the compact, at least by Arcadian standards, size of the as-designed new ship. With a length of only fifty-five metres, a corvette was already big; however, compared with the rest of the fleet, it was tiny. Inevitably, Ragnar had to admit extending the size of the ship was contrary to direction. Fitting a landing deck proved challenging but the proven, at this point, internal hangar in the aft of the ship was the answer to the scarcity of space available. Torgirm watched in fascination at their incredibly fast design process. After which, the Craft Masters built a small-scale model and tested it in various conditions using magic and more mundane experiments.

  A wholly different atmosphere was in the adjacent room. Instead of bickering and banter, the younger Crafters, who aspired to become Masters, were working under the guidance of the Emperor. Theon Avalon was quietly sitting in a chair in the middle of a wide table covered in various pieces of paper. In front of him was an illusion of the gunship that the team under his guidance was working on. The shape of the ship was slowly spinning, allowing the Emperor to observe it at various angles. The small crowd around him discussed the very strict demands the ruler of Arcadia had placed before them. To the inexperienced crafters, the ship seemed impossible to build but the Emperor assured them it was realistic. So they sat in small groups and tried to tackle individual problems without focusing on the bigger picture.

  "The main armament will be multi-barrelled magi guns based on the CIWS but in a smaller calibre. It would carry eight UMS-1 missiles which would allow it to be powerful enough to fulfil a wide range of missions." A young human said and lowered his head. "It's impossible, my Lord..."

  "It's not, Simon." The Emperor patiently disagreed with the man. "CB-90 shouldn't work and, yet, we are building twenty of them each month. The Gunships we are designing are not that distinct from the assault craft we already produce."

  "If we equip them with that many rotary guns, they would spend all their stored mana in moments." Simon tried to defend his opinion.

  "But, we can give them much bigger storage than a CB has." A young woman interjected, earning an approval nod from the Emperor who stood up.

  "Indeed, Cindy." He stopped the illusion with his hand and the model lost its external armour. "As you can see, we have only used one-third of the interior space while external weapons are hidden within the armour and internal weapons contain for the missiles. This ship will not have transport capabilities. It's purely made to hit hard. That's why we can equip it with advanced storage systems."

  "But allowing it to take a small team of soldiers..." Simon furrowed his brows earning a flat stare from his colleague.

  "You have a CB-90 for that task. There is no need to overlap the capabilities of those two." She said.

  "Let's say we equip the ship with manastorage that is forty percent of its weight. How would that work?" The Emperor addressed his question to the woman.

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

  "It still would be barely enough." She made calculations with her notebook. "I'm considering our most draining option: fighting a bug swarm that constantly returns fire. So, both weapons and defence systems are, constantly, under huge stresses while the ship is making violent manoeuvres. Storage that big gives the pilot about thirty minutes."

  "Hmmm... That's not that bad. How about normal operations?" The Emperor slowly nodded.

  "It would be about a two-hundred and fifty-kilometre range," Simon said and Cindy nodded in confirmation.

  "The ship is simply too heavy, my Lord." She said reluctantly. "The armour, no matter how scarce, is still incredibly heavy for a ship of this size."

  "What about the mithril alloy?" Theon Avalon asked calmly.

  "But..." She looked shocked by his suggestion. "That doesn’t grow on trees."

  "It's just a useful metal, Cindy." The Emperor chuckled. "Well, the metal Dryads might be interesting. Yes, it doesn’t grow on trees, however, it now grows in the deepest caves of Avalon."

  A stunned silence grew like a bubble around Theon Avalon. It hadn’t been made public that Arcadia had almost infinite amounts of mithril. Torgirm was close to laughing watching the young Crafters' excitement when the Emperor summoned multiple mithril alloys suitable for the armour.

  "My Gods!" Cindy and Simon shouted together as they picked up the samples with reverence.

  "Their size is essential for the gunship and corvette. In the case of the patrol vessel, the construction principles are well-known for our lead design team. But, I want you, this group, to create something and I want you to do it alone. Without the help of the Masters." The Emperor said. "One day, you will graduate from the Royal University and you could, proudly, look at the ship you develop today."

  The team looked at each other and began again with new energy. They split into five-person teams to redesign the initial project. Torgirm would have shaken his head if had one. The ease with which that man inspired people around him was something to behold. He slowly walked between the groups and offered them pointers if they were stuck on something or, in one case, he entirely dismissed the project. He spent much more time with that particular group but, once he was done, they were in the middle of a heated discussion and very quickly progressed with their portion. The Emperor didn't bring any specific technical knowledge to the event but he, just roughly, described what he expected, leaving the details for the Crafters. He sat on his chair and, with a soft smile, allowed the people to work.

  "Torgirm." The Emperor's voice rippled like an echo in his mindscape.

  "My Lord?" The surprised core responded, copying the ways the Mortals replied to Theon Avalon.

  "I wasn't sure how to ask you about something but, I guess, playing a waiting game won't help anyone." He started with a calm and patient voice. "I know that you were considered the most stable and predictable Dungeon in the former Cridia and many adventurers delved into your grounds. However, a few months back, one party was almost wiped out by your denizens as they attacked them relentlessly. It was an unprecedented event that directly led to the death of almost all of the involved adventurers."

  "I beg your pardon but I don't recall any Mortals dying in my grounds for the last year. I was very lenient in that case." Torgirm replied carefully. There was a threat hidden behind the Emperor's calmness and the Forge's Core couldn't guess the reason.

  "They were not killed within your grounds but, instead, they were captured by slavers and brought to the Righteous Dungeon. The slavers planned to kill them in my courtyard to make me bloodthirsty." Theon Avalon explained while his body was still softly smiling and observing the young Crafters.

  "Oh..." The Forge frantically tried to recall that situation but his memories were hazy at best. "They were a party you knew?"

  "No." Torgirm almost exhaled in relief but the Emperor's presence solidified within old Core's mindscape. "But the sole survivor of that party became a person very dear to me. Her name is Irene va'Theon and she is one of your Empresses."

  The rush of panic turned into an uncontrollable whirlwind of terror as Torgirm realised the gravity of the situation. Slavers were a despicable lot and the Dungeon never fully comprehended why the Mortals accepted them. He took a moment to desperately recall the situation but he simply couldn't. It was then that the High Elf woman appeared near the Emperor's physical body and he instantly recognised her. The two of them moved to his inner sanctum and Torgirm wished he could nervously swallow.

  "You recognise me?" The Empress asked with pain in her voice. She took the Emperor's hand but Torgirm was more terrified of her than she was of him. "What did I ever do to you that caused you to almost kill me back then? What did any of us do to you that pushed us straight into slavers' hands?"

  He was unable to say anything but his thoughts were like an open book for them. The Empress' eyes went wide in horror that was even greater than his. The Emperor, on the surface, was calm, but his heart boiled in wrath so immense that Torgirm was shocked he was able to control it. He hid the fragile-looking Elven woman in his arms and she clung to him.

  "I won't allow them." He simply whispered into her long ear and that calmness was all she needed to compose herself. "I'm no longer angry at you, Torgrim, so, please, explain it to us."

  "I never was eager to kill Mortals." He started slowly. "However, once I witnessed something that caught my attention. A young Elven man was cornered by four other Elves who clearly intended to kill him. He fought well but, before my denizens could intervene, he was mortally wounded. The attackers left him and ran away hearing my denizens approaching. I tried to help him but I was unable to save his life. His soul was trapped in my graveyard and he did not fade in the beginning. For years, we were able to talk and, I think, I could describe him as my first friend. That was nearly four hundred years ago."

  Torgirm paused to gather his thoughts but he was clueless how he should say to the Empress what he had learnt. But it was pointless, since, no matter how he told it, the truth will be crushing for any Mortal.

  "He was a noble of the Ibrevell Kingdom. An Elven royal whose lineage traced back for millennia. However, once he learnt the truth of his purpose, he ran away. He ran as far and as fast as he could but they found him, nonetheless. Later, as he realized he was fading, losing memories, he told me everything." Torgirm paused again, uncertain of his next words. "The Elves of Ibrevell wanted to create an artificial Hero. They... Selectively breed their nobility with the final goal of creating the ultimate weapon, capable of destroying anything that faced them. This noble, a person that I should call my friend, but that is still something I don’t fully understand, was Prince Dean Gil'namar. He was sure that his death would deal a huge blow to the mad aspirations of his kin. And, yet... And yet, when I saw you for the first time, the remnants of Dean, I immediately recognised you. He screamed at me and told me that your child would destroy the world. I... I believed him."

  The Emperor was reviewing Torgirm's memories and the Core wasn't trying to stop him.

  "They won't stop, Theon." The Empress started trembling.

  "According to Dean, you are the last step before Ibrevell's dream goal. You were supposed to be the mother of the mightiest Hero of Nilmerthis." Torgirm sheepishly admitted. "However, you set Dean free when you consecrated my graveyard so he is gone and we can't ask him anything more... I... I am sorry, but killing you, back then, was the simplest and most effective solution."

  "But... The man I was supposed to marry was killed."

  "What if they learned that I'm the Hero of Eriar, Irene?" Theon's voice was cold. "I'm actually a Hero so what if the Elves believe they could, perhaps, steal our child? They are desperately trying to get close to us."

  "That might be true... Undoubtedly, if I was going to give birth to a child whose father would be as powerful as you, then, the people behind that plan would be euphoric."

  "The audacity of anyone thinking that I would give up finding my child if they were kidnapped deserves punishment," Theon said with anger.

  "If you wanted to kill me, you could have sent your denizens to finish us off." She said with an empty voice.

  "I couldn't without an experienced scion. Outside the Dungeon, the simple denizens turn into mindless monsters. I never had a scion powerful enough to lead expeditions."

  "Torgirm... My friends died because of you. I was raped many times by animals that call themselves slavers. I don't know when I will be able to forgive you but I won't hold a grudge..." Empress Irene said, still held by the Emperor. "If I'm that important for my former country, then they will never give up. What should I do, Theon?"

  "There are some things that are unforgivable and I am going to make things clear for Ibrevell. You are my wife and anyone trying to take you away from me will be my enemy." He said with iron and a resolve in his voice that terrified Torgirm. "Valiant is arriving tomorrow in Westwood for rearming. Janet was about to leave for the front line but I ordered her to wait. Maybe it's time to test the jump drive..."

  Thank you all for reading.

  I wish you all a great day and as always I wait for your comments.

  A big thanks to who edited the chapter!

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