“Then I’ll go see them,” Rykard stated pinly and yawned. “After I sleep in a good bed.”

  One rest and one and half days of walking ter, Rykard and his merry band of 98 monster girl sailors were in the heart of the area of the angels.

  The architecture was, once again, distinct. These alchemical angels favoured massive structures, likely inhabited by cns or simir, rger gatherings of people. Each one of the rge houses was connected to one of three rge kes. They were filled not with water, but a bright green fluid, even more fluid than water. Massive gss tubes either pumped the fluid in or out of the ke, depending on the house.

  ‘Some kind of stable reactive fluid?’ Rykard theorized. He had never seen open-sky ingredient storing like this, but its esoteric value was undeniable. ‘Maybe the interpy of ingoing and outgoing houses forms a rune that keeps it all empowered and stable? The grass certainly doesn’t seem any worse for it.’

  Dying wildlife was one of the first signs that rge scale alchemy was done improperly. Nature abhorred a vacuum and that also went for the value transmuted by alchemical procedures. Should there be anything off, all around the offending process was gradually seeped of its life essence to make up for it.

  The angels they met, of which there were many, were an odd bunch. Few of them had wings rge enough to even attempt flight and even they appeared incapable of maintaining it for long distances. Their feathers and hair were tinged a bright green. A select few of them had thin halos above their heads, putting into question Udunan’s statement about their ck of divinity.

  Like the elves before, the angels showed hostility but not as much and not as sting. Individual angels would come and go, as the group proceeded through the neighborhoods, having been pointed to where the leader of this group was staying. Rykard was just happy that each side had a leader, even if that leadership was in btant opposition to the unpopur government body at the centre.

  An oddly small building was their destination. Located at the shores of the middle of the three kes, the tower was only ten metres across. Its double doors gave way into a singur room, filled to the brim with a byrinth of interconnected apparatuses, sending alchemical tinctures through various stages of transmutation.

  “I’ve expected your arrival,” an even voice greeted Rykard. “I would have come to see you, but my experiments do not allow dey. My apologies.”

  “Apologies are already more than I got from your northern neighbours.” Mention of the elves caused the hard cck of gss on wood. Rykard followed the noise and soon looked at a singur man.

  He was, much like Ousten, of average height and build. Small green wings extended from his back, sharing their colour with the pressed shirt he wore. The fashion, Rykard found, was much like that of his own shirt. When the angel turned around, he showed a handsome face with chin-length, neon green hair and eyes. His skin was a softly tanned white.

  “Rykard,” the king introduced himself.

  “Azel,” the angel answered in a respectful tone and fixed an ornate pauldron. It appeared to be a token of authority. Rykard saw no other utility to it. The angel turned a valve and a hot, dark liquid poured into a cup. “Tea?” he offered.

  “Sure,” Rykard agreed and took the second cup once offered. He inhaled the fumes rising from the hot water, smelling the vender and chamomile infused in it. “Although, next time, maybe don’t offer the truth serum straight out of the tap.”

  The angel sputtered in the middle of his own sip, while Rykard down the hot beverage in one gulp. Soon, the alchemical tincture had spread through his system. Aware of the compound, he could feel it tingle in his bloodstream. His tongue felt a little looser.

  “So, any particur reason you felt like distrusting me this much?” the king asked and handed the empty cup back.

  “One can never be too careful,” Azel answered.

  “I suppose that is true for other people.” Rykard rolled his shoulders. “For me, being careful is the option that typically ruins my fun - and other people’s day. The most secure course of action would be to burn this whole pce to the ground, from what I have been told.”

  “...Will you?”

  “That depends on you.” Rykard found a nearby table he could lean on without touching anything fragile. “Here’s the quick rundown of your situation: I have the force to crush you, I have the need to subjugate you, and I find your internal conflict silly to the highest degree. You can submit to me or I can crush you into dust.”

  Azel just stared. The truth serum pumping through Rykard’s system made it abundantly clear that he meant what he said. “So this is an ultimatum?”

  “Of sorts.” Rykard yawned and shrugged at the same time. “I have better ideas on how you can use your energy than hating each other. In return, I offer you solutions to your problems, the resources of a nation, nd, and a literal city full of women that are one dominant dispy of manliness away from catching baby fever.”

  At that the alchemical angel raised his eyebrow. “Is that an allegory where you’re from or…”

  “I said ‘literal’.”

  “That means ‘figurative’ in the minds of many people.”

  “I mean literally literal,” the king stated. “Almost 10’000 girls with a breeding kink. Why do you think I summon a Hexagon filled with sausages? You think that’s for me?”

  “...I assumed that to be an unlucky accident.”

  “No, now give it to me straight, Azel: do you submit or not? Your answer will inform my next decision. I’ve met the leader of the elves and he’s a fat, arrogant disappointment of his usually able species. I’ve met the leader of the… fenrisians, you call them?”

  “Dirty mutts would be my choice of words.”

  Rykard felt an unbidden ugh rise in his throat. “I’ll smash your face in the pavement if you start a race war in my territory. They won’t be able to differentiate your eyes from your brain matter.” The angel went a shade greener in the alchemical light. “Sorry, honesty is something my host cursed me with.”

  “I’ll… keep it in mind… what were you saying about Ousten?”

  “That he saw reason or at least procimed as much. You’re the st one who I have to evaluate. You’re not an outright disappointment. That’s promising enough. You can’t imagine how little I feel like killing you all and summoning another Hexagon full of men. The hassle…” Rykard let out a long sigh. “I’m not even threatening you right now. You know I’m not. This is just what will happen on a purely analytical basis. I’m reality coming knocking.”

  “We’ll submit,” Azel was quick to promise as soon as the king paused in his monologue.

  Rykard smiled, as the divine switch in his soul flipped. Two factions and the central government accepted him as the ruler of the Hexagon and so it had been conquered. On paper, this was enough for him to move on.

  In reality, if he left them in this state, they’d rebel soon enough and make pcing further Hexagons that way difficult, not to mention the internal strife. It was best he sorted this out and he did so soon.

  “Wonderful. Come along then. Wouldn’t be proper to hold the meeting about what I’ll do with your Hexagons without all of the leaders present, would it?”

  Four days ter, Rykard sat among most of the leadership of the Hexagon.

  Udunan and Tochnan sat left and right of him. Ousten, who had returned to the fortress immediately after bringing the news to his people, sat opposite of Azel, who Rykard had dragged along. The only dey in all of this had been because they had been nice enough to send a messenger to the elves, asking cordially to appear at the meeting.

  The messenger had not returned.

  The time to chalk that up to deys had passed.

  “He’s not coming,” Rykard stated.

  “I told you,” Ousten mumbled.

  “If there’s anything worse than a dog, then it’s an elf,” Azel stated.

  The fenrisian blew air out of his nose. The insults between the two could devolve in shit-flinging matches, but at least they could always agree that elves were the worst. The fat elves to the north, anyway. They had expressed no animosity towards Rykard’s companions. Their racial loyalty seemed to manifest more in a disdain for the other two than a general hatred towards everything that was other.

  That was good, at least.

  “That was one of my best men,” Udunan stated.

  “One casualty for unification wouldn’t be the worst price to pay.”

  “It was still unnecessa-”

  The door flew open with a low thud. In came a soldier, hair disheveled, uniform seared by electricity, and flesh cut. “The elves refuse negotiation!” he excimed loudly.

  Rykard’s smile stayed, but it no longer reached his eyes. “That so?”

  The entire room waited for Rykard to say something more. Tochnan shifted nervously, sneaking gnces at his brother, who was the only one of the leaders not nervously twitching. Fingers danced on the tabletop. The soldier stood at the end of the table. The speed at which he had hurried back had opened his wounds.

  Rykard stood up. He circled around the table. “Good job making it back alive, soldier,” he complimented and gave the young man a hearty smack on the shoulder. At first, he inhaled sharply, then the healing energy seeping from the lingering palm made him sigh with relief. “Lyvia, I feel like going on a two, maybe three day stroll… ah, but I’ll also need to get back. Five days tops.”

  “Would you like my company, Sir?”

  “I would like it very much,” he assured and looked over his shoulder. “Now, don’t give me any reason to get angry when I come back.”

  “Won’t happen!” Helenn promised. “I’ll be the bestest girl ever. We’ll py truth or dare, cuddle, be so happy we’re all together, and wait for you all happy and stuff.”

  “Won’t we?” Tena asked, causing Azel to jump. The redhead had snuck up behind the alchemical angel’s chair. Now she tapped back with a ugh. “Get out of here, Rykard.”

  “Why would you go on such a long… oh,” Mena finally got it. Her naivety made her look a bit stupid at times. It also made sure Rykard left with an actual smile on his face.

  “You seem happy, Sir,” Lyvia observed as they headed down the stairs. “In a way that is not entirely appropriate.”

  “Ah, well, you see,” Rykard mused as they strut out of the fort together, “things had been going a bit too smooth so far. It makes a man happy when there’s nothing to worry about, sure, but it does get a bit dull.” His smile widened to a menacing grin. “This is the first excuse I got since I have arrived in this world to let loose a bit.”

  “You did exhaust the peaceful options,” Lyvia stated, her sarcastic drawl evident.

  Rykard ughed some more. “True, maybe making them run was not the most likely route to success but I’ll be generous. They can surrender whenever they want.” He rolled his shoulder. “Although I might have to punish them a little bit just for making me walk this dull grass ndscape for the fourth time.”

  _________________________________________________________________

  The walls of the elven city had closed into a continuous line of green-trimmed marble. No gate was present, no gap in its defenses. The city behind was entirely shielded by the structure. Atop it patrolled rotund guards in ornate armour, too decorated to be of much use.

  Rykard saw them long before they saw him. They were two people approaching a city. Even the most basic illusion mage could hide them at this distance. Any closer, however, and things would get interesting.

  The king had never taken an entire city before, not even one guarded by people so inept they guarded their walls in ceremonial armour. A move that he would have regarded as a trap, had he not already borne witness to their bumbling leader. Rykard had, however, taken entire vilges and towns on his own before and his power had expanded tremendously since he had arrived in this world.

  It would be a bit straining, even for him, but entirely possible.

  “You’ll wait here,” Rykard told Lyvia.

  “Yes, Sir,” she answered with a nod.

  A kiss was their goodbye. The admiral beheld him with loving eyes. ‘As if I needed any more reason to come back in one piece,’ he thought and rolled his shoulders. ‘Now, how do I want to crack this egg?’