The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

Treez smiled at me from behind the bars.

“You flatter me.”

I maintained the expression of a man who absolutely knew what he was doing.

Inside my head, a small committee had formed to investigate why I had just complimented a foreign general using information that did not exist.

Nobody had answers.

Excellent.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Treez stood near the front of the cell with her restrained hands resting loosely in front of her. Without her battlefield clothes and layers of active magic surrounding her, she looked considerably less terrifying.

Still dangerous.

Definitely dangerous.

Just currently dangerous in the way a sleeping tiger was dangerous.

You could appreciate the beauty while remembering that sticking your hand through the bars remained a poor life choice.

Her red hair fell freely around her shoulders, and the simple clothing provided by Inizio made her look more like an ordinary traveler than the mage who had hidden an entire army from our scouts.

The suppression cuffs around her wrists ruined that illusion.

Black metal.

Red central stone.

Faint runes.

A fashionable little reminder that she had once tried to turn my diplomatic mission into a mass funeral.

Treez waited.

Clearly expecting me to continue whatever brilliant conversation she thought I had carefully planned.

Right.

The conversation.

I should probably have one.

I folded my arms.

“The negotiations between our kingdoms have reopened.”

Treez’s smile disappeared.

Not entirely.

It changed.

Attention sharpened behind her black eyes.

“And Queen Firsa accepted?”

“She agreed to reopen talks.”

A small breath left Treez.

Something in her shoulders loosened.

“You’ll be going home soon.”

That got a reaction.

A real one.

Treez looked around her cell.

The stone walls.

The narrow bed.

The bars.

Then back at me.

“Good.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She sighed.

“Because I’m sick of this place.”

I glanced around.

“Really? I was about to give the accommodations four stars.”

Treez stared at me.

“Four?”

“Clean room. Reliable security. Complimentary restraints.”

Her eyes lowered toward the suppression cuffs.

“Terrible room service.”

“Fair criticism.”

“And the doors only open from one side.”

“Design flaw.”

Treez’s mouth twitched.

Almost a smile.

Interesting.

I leaned one shoulder against the stone beside the cell.

“If the conversation with Queen Firsa goes well, there should be a truce.”

“Temporary.”

“Probably.”

I nodded.

“A truce doesn’t magically erase everything that happened.”

Treez’s expression became more serious.

“Especially what happened before the battle.”

“Exactly.”

Garren’s people attacking Agranian merchants.

Agran moving forces toward Inizio.

Balder’s little treason experiment.

Too many pieces.

Too much anger.

“But temporary peace gives everyone time.”

Treez tilted her head.

“For what?”

“To stop trying to kill each other long enough to remember that neighboring kingdoms are more useful when they aren’t burning.”

She considered that.

I continued.

“Trade resumes.”

“Possibly.”

“Borders calm down.”

“If both sides cooperate.”

“People stop wondering whether tomorrow is the day somebody decides their farm is strategically important.”

Treez’s gaze softened slightly.

I shrugged.

“So yes. Temporary.”

I looked directly at her.

“But I’d like temporary to become lasting.”

Treez was quiet for a moment.

Then asked, “And if you fail?”

Simple question.

Heavy answer.

I looked down the corridor.

Rows of cells.

Foreign soldiers.

Men and women who had followed orders and ended up captured in another kingdom because rulers and nobles had decided violence might be useful.

I looked back.

“Then Inizio and Agran go to war.”

Treez did not move.

I continued.

“And when it ends, both kingdoms will spend years pretending whatever remained was worth the price.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

I smiled without humor.

“Burned towns.”

“Dead soldiers.”

“Families missing people.”

“Merchants losing routes.”

“Farmers losing fields.”

Treez’s gaze dropped.

“And whoever wins gets the exciting privilege of rebuilding everything.”

Silence followed.

Not awkward silence.

Heavy silence.

The kind people entered when jokes no longer belonged in the room.

Treez turned slightly.

Her eyes moved toward the neighboring cells.

Agran’s soldiers were housed farther down.

Some could probably hear us.

Some probably could not.

Treez eventually spoke.

“I’m going to be honest with you.”

I nodded.

“That sounds useful.”

“I hate war.”

There was no hesitation.

No diplomatic wording.

Just the statement.

Treez looked at her restrained hands.

“Not fighting.”

I listened.

“There is a difference.”

Fair.

“Fighting is part of what I chose.”

She lifted her wrists slightly.

“I trained for it.”

“Became a general.”

“Yes.”

Her voice remained calm.

“But war means sending people who trust you into places where you know many of them will not return.”

Her expression tightened.

“I hate that.”

That felt genuine.

Completely.

Treez continued.

“I hate standing before soldiers and giving orders when I know some of those orders will become the last thing they ever hear.”

I stopped leaning casually.

That deserved more attention.

“I hate reports listing casualties.”

Her eyes lifted.

“Numbers.”

She said the word with quiet disgust.

“Thirty dead.”

“Forty wounded.”

“Seven missing.”

Her fingers curled.

“Numbers make it easier for commanders.”

I nodded slowly.

“But every number is someone.”

“Yes.”

Treez looked past me.

“I followed my orders at Dahera because they came from those above me.”

“The queen.”

“And Supreme General Rel.”

That matched everything I knew about her.

“Nothing is more important to me than my duty to them.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Even when you disagree?”

Treez’s eyes returned to mine.

“Especially then.”

Interesting answer.

She continued.

“If generals only obey when they personally approve of every command, armies collapse.”

True.

Also terrifying.

“But following orders does not mean enjoying what those orders create.”

I smiled faintly.

“Then I think we understand each other.”

Treez studied me.

“Do we?”

“I don’t want war either.”

She gave me a skeptical look.

“You seemed comfortable fighting.”

“Different issue.”

I pointed lightly toward her.

“I enjoy surviving.”

“That is generally recommended.”

“And fighting is fun when nobody is trying to turn entire populations into casualties.”

Treez’s mouth curved.

“You are strange.”

“I get that often.”

She looked toward the corridor again.

“Everyone here wants peace.”

I followed her gaze.

Remgar’s cell.

Gia’s.

The captured soldiers farther down.

“All of you?”

“Yes.”

“No secret faction eagerly waiting to restart the battle?”

Treez looked mildly offended.

“We lost.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

She sighed.

“No.”

Then more seriously, “Most soldiers do not dream about wars, Diplomat.”

That made sense.

“We dream about winning them if they happen.”

Difference.

Important difference.

Treez’s voice softened.

“But if peace is possible?”

She nodded once.

“We want it.”

I smiled.

“Then help me get it.”

Treez stared.

Not because the request was complicated.

Because it was probably weird hearing it from the man involved in capturing her.

She folded her arms as much as the restraints allowed.

“You truly came here wanting advice.”

Technically?

No.

Spiritually?

We had arrived there.

“Apparently.”

Her eyebrow rose.

I coughed.

“I mean yes.”

Smooth.

Treez did not comment.

Merciful woman.

Instead, she stepped closer to the bars.

“Queen Firsa is difficult.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“No.”

Treez shook her head.

“You’ve heard people complain about her.”

“Different?”

“Very.”

She leaned one shoulder against the cell wall.

“People who fail to speak with her often describe her as unreasonable.”

Lord Yori immediately entered my mind.

Yes.

That sounded familiar.

Treez continued.

“She is not unreasonable.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“She is simply extremely unwilling to tolerate conversations she considers useless.”

Less reassuring.

I nodded.

“Rel told me I might only get one chance.”

“That is likely.”

Treez’s expression became thoughtful.

“Even Supreme General Rel struggles with her.”

I laughed softly.

“I can imagine.”

Treez gave me a curious look.

“You met Rel.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?”

“She scares me.”

Treez blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“You stood against Remgar.”

“Remgar does not hide attacks inside casual conversation.”

Treez’s smile widened.

“That sounds like her.”

“Exactly.”

Treez shook her head.

“The Supreme General learned how to speak with Queen Firsa through years of trial.”

“Trial?”

“And error.”

“I would pay to watch those errors.”

“You would probably die laughing.”

“Worth it.”

Treez’s amusement faded slowly.

Then her voice lowered.

“What I tell you will not guarantee anything.”

I nodded.

“I’ll take increased odds.”

“That is all it may give.”

“Still useful.”

Treez looked me over.

Perhaps deciding whether I was serious enough to trust with whatever she was about to say.

Then she nodded.

“The queen hates mind games.”

I blinked.

Interesting.

Treez continued.

“If you want something, say what you want.”

“Directly.”

“Yes.”

“No gentle setup?”

“If the setup matters, use it.”

She lifted one finger.

“But if you spend ten minutes circling the truth because you think it sounds more elegant, she will become irritated.”

I nodded.

“Fair.”

“Do not hide meaning behind sweet words.”

That one made me smile.

“That might be difficult. I’m charming.”

Treez stared.

I lifted both hands.

“I can control it.”

“You had better.”

She continued.

“If you believe Agran is wrong about something, say it.”

My eyebrows rose.

“Even in front of Queen Firsa?”

“Especially then.”

Interesting.

Treez stepped closer.

“She despises people who say whatever they think she wants to hear.”

“So honesty.”

“Honesty.”

“Even inconvenient honesty.”

“Yes.”

That was actually useful.

Very useful.

“Rel talks to her that way?”

Treez nodded.

“The Supreme General had to learn.”

I imagined Rel sitting casually with cake while trying not to psychologically manipulate someone who hated manipulation.

Probably torture.

I smiled.

“That must have been painful for her.”

Treez’s expression became amused.

“It was.”

“You saw it?”

“Several times.”

“Please tell me there are stories.”

“No.”

“Cruel.”

“You asked for useful information.”

“I can appreciate both.”

Treez ignored that.

“Second.”

I straightened slightly.

“No false praise.”

That sounded obvious.

But judging by the way she said it, apparently important.

Treez continued.

“If you compliment Queen Firsa because you genuinely admire something, that is acceptable.”

“But if I’m flattering her?”

“She will know.”

Immediately.

I thought about Yori again.

I could almost picture him entering the throne room with rehearsed compliments dripping from his mouth like cheap syrup.

That probably went well.

Treez continued.

“She has spent her entire life surrounded by nobles.”

I nodded.

“She knows what empty praise sounds like.”

“Fair.”

“Do not tell her she is wise unless you mean it.”

“Easy.”

“Do not praise Agran simply because you think it will make her friendlier.”

“Also easy.”

“Do not compliment her appearance to manipulate her mood.”

I paused.

Treez narrowed her eyes.

I raised both hands.

“What?”

“You thought about it.”

“I compliment attractive women naturally.”

“Don’t.”

“That feels restrictive.”

“Diplomat.”

“Fine.”

Treez sighed.

“Third.”

“Already my least favorite.”

“Keep the conversation concise.”

Ah.

That one hurt.

“I’m funny.”

“She may not care.”

“Impossible.”

Treez almost smiled.

“Long conversations bore her quickly.”

“How long?”

“There is no exact amount.”

“Wonderful.”

“It depends entirely on whether she believes the conversation is progressing.”

Makes sense.

Treez continued.

“If you have three points, make three points.”

“Not twelve?”

“Not twelve.”

“What about six?”

“Three.”

“Harsh.”

“She does not want speeches.”

I considered my training with Leyra.

Court etiquette.

Diplomacy.

Formal greetings.

Historical context.

All useful.

But Firsa apparently wanted people to walk into the room and verbally remove every decorative ribbon.

Treez’s voice became more serious.

“Do not confuse brevity with disrespect.”

“I won’t.”

“Respect matters.”

“I figured.”

“But unnecessary ceremony frustrates her.”

Interesting balance.

“Direct without being rude.”

“Exactly.”

Treez looked almost impressed.

“I think you may understand.”

“I occasionally understand things.”

“I hadn’t ruled it out.”

Rude.

I smiled.

“Anything else?”

Treez nodded.

“Never repeat yourself.”

That sounded extremely specific.

“Meaning?”

“If she understood you the first time, do not explain the same point again using different words.”

I frowned.

“What if she disagrees?”

“Then she disagrees.”

“That simple?”

“Yes.”

Treez’s expression hardened.

“If Queen Firsa says no because she understands your argument and rejects it, repeating it will only tell her you think she was too stupid to understand.”

Ah.

That could go badly.

“So if she says no, I need a new argument.”

“If you have one.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Stop.”

I laughed.

“That sounds terrifying.”

“It should.”

Treez moved one step away from the bars.

“Once she becomes bored enough to end the conversation, you may not get another chance.”

“Rel mentioned that too.”

Treez nodded.

“If she stops the meeting herself…”

A pause.

“Pray.”

I stared.

“That’s your professional advice?”

“Yes.”

“Pray.”

“Pray she decides to reschedule.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Treez’s face became completely serious.

“It is over.”

Well.

No pressure.

I rubbed my chin.

“So.”

I began counting on my fingers.

“Tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

“No manipulative word games.”

“Yes.”

“No fake praise.”

“Yes.”

“Keep things short.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t repeat points she already understood.”

“Yes.”

“And if she gets bored, start negotiating with the gods.”

Treez nodded.

“That is a surprisingly accurate summary.”

I smiled.

“Excellent.”

She studied me.

“You do not seem worried.”

“I’m worried.”

“You don’t look worried.”

“That’s because panic wrinkles the face.”

Treez laughed softly.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I leaned against the wall again.

“Worry is useful until it starts making decisions.”

Her expression shifted.

Interest.

“After that, it’s just anxiety wearing a little manager hat.”

Treez stared for a second.

Then sighed.

“I almost understood that.”

“Good enough.”

She looked toward the floor.

“That is everything I can tell you.”

I nodded.

Honestly?

For a conversation I had accidentally walked into, this was turning out surprisingly productive.

Maybe getting lost was a strategy.

I should start pretending it was intentional.

I looked at Treez.

Really looked at her.

She noticed.

Her eyebrows pulled together.

“What?”

I remained silent for another second.

Then smiled.

“You know, I just realized something.”

Treez looked suspicious.

“What?”

“You’re actually enjoyable to talk to.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“That sounds insulting.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

Treez crossed her arms.

“You blasted me into a tree.”

“Yes.”

“After punching through my barrier.”

“Also yes.”

“And now you’re surprised I can hold a conversation.”

“When you phrase it like that, I sound judgmental.”

“You are.”

“Fair.”

Her lips twitched.

I continued.

“We should hang out sometime.”

Treez stared at me.

“Hang out.”

“When you’re free.”

She slowly looked around the cell.

“I’m currently imprisoned.”

“I noticed.”

“Very observant.”

“Once you are free.”

Her expression changed.

Right.

Freedom.

She had probably been trying not to think too hard about it.

I smiled.

“Once you’re back in Agran.”

Treez looked uncertain whether I was joking.

I wasn’t.

Mostly.

“We could get food.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Food.”

“Yes.”

“After everything that happened.”

“Preferably food that doesn’t increase sexual desire.”

Treez looked confused.

“Long story.”

I waved it away.

“We’ll bring Remgar.”

From down the corridor came a deep voice.

“I WOULD LOVE THAT.”

I froze.

Treez froze.

Then both of us looked toward Remgar’s cell.

His voice carried easily through the stone hallway.

Of course it did.

The man probably whispered at siege-engine volume.

I laughed.

“See?”

Treez covered her face for a moment.

I called back, “You’re invited.”

“GOOD.”

I looked toward the direction of Gia’s cell.

Silence.

Nothing.

Not even a complaint.

I smiled.

“And Gia.”

Treez gave me a look.

“She may not agree.”

“She’ll come.”

“How do you know?”

“Optimism.”

“She barely speaks to you.”

“Details.”

Treez shook her head.

“You are trying to befriend three people who may end up fighting you again.”

I shrugged.

“Hopefully not.”

“If your negotiations fail…”

Her black eyes sharpened.

“I will return to my duty.”

“I would expect you to.”

“If Queen Firsa orders me onto the battlefield…”

“You go.”

“Yes.”

Treez stepped closer to the bars.

“And if we meet again there, I will not be gentle simply because we had a pleasant conversation in prison.”

I looked at her.

Then smiled.

Treez stopped.

Her expression flickered.

Caught off guard.

I said, “Only if I fail.”

Silence.

Treez studied me.

I pushed myself away from the wall.

Then clapped my hands together once, brushing off a little dust from my palms.

“Which I don’t plan to.”

Treez stared.

I continued.

“So prepare yourself.”

“For what?”

“Home.”

Something in her expression softened.

“You’ll be leaving this place soon.”

I nodded down the corridor.

“All of you.”

Treez looked toward the other cells.

“Assuming nothing changes.”

“I’m working on confidence here.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.”

I smiled.

“Trust me enough to believe I can get everyone what they actually want.”

Her gaze returned.

“Peace.”

“Peace.”

Treez remained quiet.

I expected another warning.

Instead, she tilted her head.

“You are very strange.”

“That again.”

“You are telling an enemy prisoner to trust you.”

I looked at her.

“Enemy?”

“Yes.”

She seemed confused by my confusion.

“You captured us.”

“I remember.”

“We attacked you.”

“Hard to forget.”

“And you still don’t consider us enemies?”

I thought about it.

Then shook my head.

“No.”

Treez’s expression became more serious.

“We stood on opposing battlefields.”

“Exactly.”

“That normally defines enemies.”

“Not for me.”

She watched carefully.

I leaned one arm casually against the bars.

“We’re just people who ended up on different sides of a problem.”

Treez said nothing.

“You were following orders.”

“Yes.”

“Nemris was following hers.”

“Yes.”

“Remgar wanted to protect his people.”

Treez glanced down the corridor.

“So did our soldiers.”

“And Inizio’s knights wanted to protect theirs.”

Treez’s brows furrowed.

I smiled faintly.

“Sounds less like good guys and bad guys and more like a bunch of people standing in different uniforms while politicians create paperwork with casualties attached.”

Treez stared.

I continued before she could question my metaphor.

“You want Agranians alive.”

“Yes.”

“I want Inizio’s people alive.”

“Yes.”

“And neither of us wants this continent covered in graves.”

Her expression changed.

Slowly.

“So as far as I’m concerned…”

I shrugged.

“We’re not enemies.”

Treez’s eyes widened slightly.

“We just happened to be on opposite sides.”

I looked directly at her.

“But right now, we want the same thing.”

“Peace.”

“Exactly.”

Treez went quiet.

Something moved behind her expression.

Not dramatic.

Not sudden.

The guarded look she had maintained since I arrived loosened.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Her eyes softened.

Then slowly, she nodded.

“Yes.”

The word came quietly.

“We do.”

I smiled.

“Good.”

Treez nodded again.

“A common goal.”

“Much better than a common battlefield.”

Her mouth curved.

“I agree.”

I pushed away from the cell.

“Now that my incredibly planned and strategically brilliant prison visit has achieved its objective…”

Treez’s eyebrow rose.

Danger.

Maybe she suspected.

No.

Impossible.

I was extremely convincing.

“…I should leave.”

“You have preparations.”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Treez nodded.

“For Agran.”

“For Agran.”

I stepped back.

Treez watched me.

“Good luck.”

I smiled.

“I prefer skill.”

“Take both.”

“Fair.”

I turned.

Started walking.

Then her voice stopped me.

“Diplomat.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

Treez stood close to the bars.

I pointed toward myself.

“Caled.”

She blinked.

“Just call me Caled.”

Treez hesitated.

The shift seemed unexpectedly personal.

Maybe titles kept everything simpler.

Diplomat.

General.

Enemy.

Prisoner.

Names complicated things.

People had names.

Enemies were easier when they remained titles.

Eventually she nodded.

“Caled.”

That sounded better.

Then her expression became serious again.

“There is something else.”

I turned slightly toward her.

“More advice?”

“Not about the queen.”

Her voice lowered.

“There are people who do not want what we want.”

I stopped smiling.

Treez glanced toward the corridor.

“Not everyone wants peace.”

That matched Viar’s warning.

Very closely.

“Inside Agran?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to.”

Treez held my gaze.

“I don’t know who.”

That mattered.

No invented conspiracy.

No accusation.

Just caution.

“But war creates opportunities.”

“Power.”

“Yes.”

“Revenge.”

“Yes.”

“Money.”

“Yes.”

“Politics.”

Treez sighed.

“Unfortunately.”

I nodded.

She continued.

“Your journey will be long.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Be careful.”

The way she said it was different now.

Not general advice.

Not the warning of an enemy who expected to fight me later.

Genuine.

“Someone may try to make certain you never reach Queen Firsa.”

Possible.

Very possible.

I smiled.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Treez’s eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t something to joke about.”

“I know.”

My smile softened.

“I will be careful.”

Treez studied me for another moment.

Then nodded.

I turned away again.

The corridor stretched ahead.

Gia’s cell came first.

As I approached, she was seated near the back.

She noticed me.

Of course.

Her eyes lifted.

Then narrowed.

The same cold suspicion as before.

I smiled.

“Treez likes me.”

Gia looked down.

No reaction.

Amazing.

Progress remained slow.

“See you around.”

Nothing.

I kept walking.

Remgar waited farther ahead.

The massive Tigerkin was sitting near the front of his cell now.

He looked at me.

Smiled.

Then raised one enormous thumb.

I stared at it.

Then laughed.

Apparently he had heard enough of the conversation to approve.

I raised mine back.

“See you around.”

Remgar nodded.

“See you around.”

I smiled at him and continued toward the dungeon entrance.

The guards opened the secured door when I approached.

Fresh air from the upper corridor reached me as I climbed the stairs.

Not bad.

I had entered the dungeon because I was lost.

Somehow I was leaving with advice about Queen Firsa, a warning about possible threats, and tentative lunch plans with three enemy generals.

Diplomacy was apparently just improvisation with better clothing.

I smiled to myself and walked out of the dungeon.