The next day began with dawn's faint light creeping through heavy curtains, casting a dim glow across Ophelia's spacious chamber. She opened her eyes abruptly, her expression calm and composed. Standing right beside her, at the edge of the bed, was Royal Attendant Stegertath, his face impassive but his presence heavy.
"Finally… you are here," Ophelia lightly groaned.
Stegertath tilted his head slightly, a faint sneer pulling at his lips. "You are too smart for your own good. However, unfortunately, that makes you a threat to this Empire…"
"When I invited you for negotiation, I was hoping we could meet when both of us are prepared," Ophelia sighed. "Not you waking me up early in the morning."
Slowly, a blood-red aura seeped from Stegertath's body, pulsating faintly. He stepped back, his stance calculated, allowing Ophelia to sit up. She glanced down at her hands, momentarily noticing the goosebumps that rose against her pale skin—a natural reaction to the oppressive force of his aura. Yet, her calmness did not waver.
"If you truly saw me as a threat, I would have been dead by now," Ophelia answered Stegertath's initial question, her voice sharp but level. "So, go on. Ask whatever question you have."
Stegertath's expression darkened, his aura intensifying as it spread through the room. "As expected. I do not like you. However, I have recently acquired the backing of a powerful force. I am here to propose a deal as per his orders." He leaned forward slightly, his tone carrying a sinister edge. "Work with him, or see the little life you have built crumble before your eyes. He said killing you would be… unsatisfactory." His eyes narrowed suddenly, his aura surging with greater intensity, like a storm ready to break. "However, to me," he hissed, "that would be one of the most logical things I could pull off right now."
In an instant, a golden blade swung toward him, the air humming with power. Alexandra, who had been lying beside Ophelia, had moved without hesitation. Her hand gripped her sword, which glowed faintly with holy energy as she swung it over Ophelia's side of the bed. The blade stopped mere inches from Stegertath's neck, its light countering his crimson aura, however…
"Shit…" Alexandra groaned before feeling her consciousness slip away as soon as Stegertath's blood-red aura invaded her own holy power.
Stegertath walked slowly to the foot of the bed, his gaze sharp and unyielding. The room seemed to still as he stopped. "However, another one of the most logical ideas is not to kill you as you can be useful. So, let us begin the negotiations now," he said, meeting Ophelia's eyes.
"Hmmm… but I have a qualm. You have read my memories, correct?" Ophelia replied, her tone steady.
Stegertath narrowed his eyes, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "So, I was right. I predicted you were aware of my mind-reading capabilities, so I prepared a few traps when raiding the Black Trumpet... however, you did not appear. It seems I overestimated your power."
Ophelia's expression remained calm. "You see, my memories are quite important to me. You reading them is an unfortunate invasion of my privacy, so I hope you can ease the negotiations into a level playing field."
"And why should I do that?" Stegertath scoffed, his voice cold.
Ophelia leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. "I will leak information on how your mind-reading powers work. It is not random, but it is not as simple as one would think."
Of course, Stegertath could kill her right now, however, as informed prior, there were too many factors against him. His backer. Her usefulness compared to if she was dead. And of course, any potential backup plans Ophelia had to completely and utterly make Stegertath ever regret going after her.
This is what kept Stegertath still in line.
Stegertath's eyes narrowed further, though his expression barely changed. He scoffed again. "I am aware you like to bluff. I will not fall for such a thing. Now, let us proceed with the negotiations."
A small, knowing smile crossed Ophelia's face. "Your magic takes the number count of your latest memory, then raises it to the 45th power, and afterward to the 2nd power. No matter what number you get, it will always reveal a constant. A rune. Every output forms a rune—a type of magic that uses runes as its base. Something so intriguing that it could be manipulated in many ways. For instance, by taking the outputted number and finding its square root, you get a string of numbers. Extracting the first four digits gives you an exact memory. Such a complex spell. No wonder you are the right-hand man to the Emperor."
Typically, any mage who has had their own unique spell completely deconstructed would undeniably feel angry. Yet, Stegertath was different. He was more of a scholar than a mage… and that is why all the mages hated him. Although, unfortunately, all the scholars hated him as well.
The reason? Well…
"Such a power, used by the Holy Prison to read minds, created by magical items to precisely extract memories, is now in the hands of someone like you. Truly... it is impressive. I see why the scholars hate you so much. All of that magical research. All those decades of pen and paper. Magic steel. Chemicals. All for you to deconstruct it and make it your own."
Stegertath stared coldly at her, his expression unchanging. Yet, even after all of those truthful words, rather than rage, he appeared calm and composed. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Indeed. I keep repeating it, but you are too smart for your own good. I do not understand how you managed to deduce that, but in terms of intelligence, you are by far superior."
"You flatter me. However, remember that: He who learns from his enemies is wise, for they reveal the flaws we refuse to see," Ophelia responded.
Stegertath's neutral expression dropped every so slightly before turning up into a light smirk before shaking his head side to side, lightly chuckling. "And as a scholar myself," he added, "I can only admit my defeat and agree to your terms. Now, the negotiations are in your favor, so state what you want first."
However, that was not a one-off quote to teach Stegertath to be wiser. In fact, it was to thank him. To thank him for teaching her so much about runes before she regressed and…
To thank him for helping her in such a dark time.
The deal between Ophelia and Stegertath proved to be simple, despite the tension that initially filled the room. The two walked in silence to Ophelia's office, leaving behind the heavy atmosphere of her chamber. Inside, the space was quiet and orderly, the dim dawn rays from the large windows casting soft shadows over the polished desk that now stood between them.
They sat opposite each other, their eyes locked. Gone was the malice and unspoken hostility, replaced by the cool demeanor of two rulers negotiating matters of importance. The conversation was calm, deliberate, and without interruption.
The terms were straightforward. Ophelia would gain the right to use the artifact located in her territory exactly three times in the future, at any moment of her choosing, regardless of its current state or use. In return, Stegertath would gain full and sole ownership of the artifact, ensuring no claims from his sponsor or anyone else. The clause was deliberate; Ophelia was certain that Stegertath harbored dissatisfaction with his current sponsor, a fact she gleaned from her keen observations and carefully deduced knowledge of his situation.
However, there was one last thing to discuss…
"Do you not have an agreement with Archmage Medarda?" Stegertath raised a singular eyebrow.
"I do…" Ophelia trailed off, her fingernail sliding gently across her wooden desk, tracing a few nonsensical patterns. "However, it is only verbal. In fact, I had no intention of ever handing the artifact over to her anyways."
Stegertath leaned back in his chair with a small smirk. "You intended to keep it for yourself since the beginning?" He clasped his hands in his lap. "Do you intend to do that with me as well?"
"Well, that is what the magical contract will be for, correct?"
When the terms were finalized, the two solidified the agreement. From Stegertath's magic and Ophelia's consent, a magic circle flared briefly into existence, glowing with intricate runes that branded itself faintly on their right shoulders, marking the binding contract. There was no ceremony, no celebration—only the quiet acknowledgment of a pact struck between rivals.
Without another word, Stegertath rose and summoned his portal, the blood-red vortex swirling ominously before him. He cast one final glance at Ophelia, his expression inscrutable, and then stepped through, vanishing into the ether.
Moments later, the door to Ophelia's office creaked open, and Alexandra stepped inside. Her sword was drawn, her grip tight, and her eyes wary as she scanned the room. She had woken shortly after the pair had left and had been standing outside the office, listening intently for any sign of trouble.
Seeing Ophelia seated calmly at her desk, unharmed and composed, Alexandra exhaled a deep sigh of relief. Her shoulders relaxed, and she lowered her weapon. Slowly, she approached and took the seat Stegertath had just vacated, placing her sword across her lap.
"We need to talk about Tridra," she then quickly followed up.
Ophelia's eyes narrowed.
…
The next day arrived briskly, with the sun rising over the Holy Capital and also Ophelia's next destination: the edge of the Sunbolt Mountains. The caravan assigned to escort Ophelia to her southern territory was already stationed outside her estate by early morning. The group consisted of seven carts, each with wooden floors and pieces of cloth folded over their tops and sides to form walls and a roof.
In addition, there were twenty efficient workers, a mix of dwarves and humans, loading supplies into the back two carts. These held luggage, provisions, and other essentials. The other carts served various purposes: resting quarters, a mobile armory, storage for tools, and a cart reserved solely for Ophelia, distinguished by a small window in its otherwise enclosed structure.
Ophelia, along with her Holy Knights, servants, and Tridra, ensured their belongings were packed neatly. By noon, the preparations were complete, and Ophelia stepped forward to greet the caravan leader, Steven.
Steven was an older human man, his strong build belying his age. His short gray hair framed a face marked by years of travel, and his long beard, streaked with white, gave him a commanding presence. His black eyes studied her with a hint of surprise as he realized she was taller than him. At 6 feet, Ophelia stood a clear few inches above his 5'10 frame, an observation that made him chuckle quietly to himself.
"You're taller than I expected, Lady Ophelia," he remarked with a tone of respect.
Ophelia remained as expressionless as ever. "I appreciate the compliment. Now, shall we discuss the path you've planned?"
The two quickly began their discussion, detailing the route through the Sunbolt Mountains. Steven outlined the landmarks they would pass, each presenting varying levels of danger. First was the Jagged Pass, known for its narrow trails and lurking bandits. Next, the Cragstone Outpost, an abandoned fort now frequented by mountain beasts. The third, Whispering Ravine, was notorious for its unpredictable winds and sudden rockslides. Fourth came the Veiled Spring, a serene but monster-infested watering hole. Lastly, the Divide, a treacherous point where the mountains drop into sheer cliffs.
Ophelia listened carefully, her expression thoughtful. "Let me show you something," she said, motioning for Steven to follow her.
Inside her cart, the space resembled a small room rather than a simple wagon. A cushioned couch lined one side, a low table stood in the center, and shelves stacked with books and scrolls occupied the corners. Ophelia walked to the edge of the cart, where a map lay crumpled on the floor. She picked it up and spread it across the table, smoothing the creases.
"Here's your proposed route," she began, tracing the path with her finger. "But it's a bit too risky in my opinion. For example, at the Jagged Pass, we should take this ridge instead. It's a longer detour but avoids the narrowest points where bandits tend to ambush."
Steven nodded, intrigued but unconvinced.
"And here," she continued, pointing to another section near Whispering Ravine, "there's a cave. It cuts through these mountains and exits here, bypassing the Divide entirely."
Steven stared at the map, his brow furrowed. "A cave? Through that mountain? In my fifty or so years of traveling these ranges, I've never heard or seen of such a thing."
Ophelia met his gaze, her expression firm. "It exists. I've studied these mountains extensively. Trust me, it's there. This detour might add a week if I'm wrong, but I assure you I'm not."
Steven exhaled, scratching his beard. "Even if I wanted to object... I really couldn't with your status anyway," he said with a soft chuckle.
"Then what is your opinion on this?" Ophelia asked.
Steven's eyes widened ever so slightly. "If I may…" he coughed, scratching his head before pointing at the Jagged Pas. "I will admit, I have heard of this detour in the Jagged Pass before. Never used it, but I will trust in your words and my colleague's words that it is there. However…" He scratched his head once more, moving his finger to the Whispering Ravine. "I have never heard of this path you proposed. Such a prominent path I would have surely at least heard about it… so, what makes you say one is there?"
"Do not tell anybody this, but I my father was actually an adventurer and he took me to these mountains before. Towards the end of our trip, it started pouring rain and we took shelter in a nearby cave. A few monsters were taking shelter in the cave as well, so we ran into the cave to try and lose them, and eventually, we found another exit after about half a day of running," Ophelia explained.
"Quite the hefty amount of stamina for a little girl to be running for half a day," Steven chuckled.
"Well, we were quite the active family. My mother was an adventurer in fact," Ophelia chuckled back.
"It is a bit hard to believe, but I will believe in you this time. There is no real rush to get there in time so even if the trip is delayed for a week, I wouldn't mind checking out this path you speak of."
It was a lie. Everything Ophelia had said was a lie. I mean, she couldn't just tell him that she knew of this path because it would be charted a decade from now and made traversing the Sunbolt Mountains easier.
Steven gave a polite bow. "Very well, we'll follow your lead." With that, he exited the cart, leaving Ophelia alone with the map.
Her eyes lingered on the map, tracing the southern end of the mountain range. Beyond it lay the barren wasteland—a lifeless expanse of dry dirt, dark clouds that refused to rain, and no sign of greenery or water for miles. Her thoughts turned to the fortress being built at this edge, a crucial foothold for her ambitions. By the time she arrived, it would likely be completed or nearing it.
Sighing, Ophelia sank into the couch beside the map, allowing herself a moment of rest. The brief quiet was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. A woman entered the cart—short black hair framed her sharp features, her violet eyes gleamed with intent, and emerald earrings dangled as she moved.
It was Tridra.