The Last Human: Unlimited Power, Unlimited Beauties

Rel led us into the throne room.

The first thing I noticed was the red carpet.

Not because red carpets were particularly rare in royal buildings.

Apparently monarchies had collectively agreed that important people needed a specific strip of fabric to walk on so everyone else could immediately identify where the expensive shoes belonged.

Still, Agran’s version felt different from Inizio’s.

The carpet was darker.

Deep crimson.

Almost the color of fresh wine.

It stretched from the enormous double doors all the way toward a raised platform at the far end of the hall.

Leyra walked beside me.

Rel was slightly ahead.

Rows of Agranian knights stood on both sides.

Straight.

Silent.

Armored.

Every helmet turned exactly enough that I could tell all of them were watching us without technically looking like they were staring.

Professional intimidation.

Very efficient.

I looked around while we walked.

Agran and Inizio really were different.

Inizio loved brightness.

White stone.

Golden decoration.

Lion imagery everywhere.

Agran preferred darker stone, heavy wooden beams, red banners, tiger motifs, and enough black metal to make the entire castle feel like it could survive being dropped from a mountain.

But the resemblance between the two kingdoms was still there.

The layout.

The long ceremonial corridor leading toward power.

The history painted into the walls.

The knights standing like decorative statues who could stab you.

Neighbors.

Separate identities shaped by centuries spent glaring over the same border.

Basically siblings who had grown up wearing different clothes and insisting they had nothing in common.

The paintings here were mostly military.

Tigerkin rulers.

Armies.

Treaties.

Battles.

Several showed Inizio beside Agran.

Sometimes fighting.

Sometimes standing together.

History apparently couldn’t decide whether these two kingdoms wanted to hug or strangle each other.

Rel slowed as we approached the throne.

The red carpet ended before a short flight of broad stone steps.

At the top stood one throne.

Large.

Dark wood reinforced with black metal.

Red cushions.

Tiger carvings along the arms.

Simple compared with Inizio’s central throne arrangement.

But imposing.

Sitting there was Queen Firsa Stormroar.

I had heard about her.

Read about her.

Been warned about her.

And Treez’s advice immediately made sense the moment I saw her face.

She looked tired of everyone.

Not physically tired.

She didn’t look weak.

Far from it.

She looked like a woman who had spent decades listening to politicians speak for twenty minutes when the useful information required two sentences.

Late thirties, if I had to guess.

Long black hair fell behind her shoulders.

Dark tiger ears rose from it.

Black eyes watched us with sharp focus.

White skin.

Elegant features.

Strong jaw.

Her red gown flowed around her throne, richly made but not overloaded with jewelry.

She didn’t need decoration to establish authority.

Her expression did that for free.

Stern.

Controlled.

And carrying the unmistakable energy of someone who would absolutely interrupt you if your sentence started becoming decorative.

I liked her already.

Terrifyingly.

We stopped at the bottom of the steps.

I bowed.

Formal mode activated.

This was not the time to greet a queen with ”Yo.”

Probably.

“Your Majesty.”

Firsa’s gaze settled on me.

I spoke carefully.

“My name is Caled Morningwood. I stand before you as the appointed representative of the Kingdom of Inizio.”

Leyra bowed beside me.

“Queen Firsa, thank you for granting us this audience. It is an honor to stand before you on behalf of Inizio.”

Firsa looked toward her.

Recognition entered her eyes.

“Crown Princess Leyra Goldmane.”

Leyra straightened.

Firsa gave one small nod.

Then her attention returned to Rel.

The Supreme General walked up the steps.

She passed the throne.

Then stood behind and slightly to the side of Firsa.

Interesting.

That was her place.

Not seated.

Not beside the queen as an equal.

Behind her.

Close enough to advise.

Close enough to defend.

Second in command, but clearly still serving the throne.

Rel folded her hands behind her back.

Her expression remained pleasantly neutral.

Her eyes?

Watching everything.

Naturally.

Firsa leaned slightly into the arm of her throne.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Caled Morningwood.”

I smiled politely.

“And I’ve heard plenty about you, Your Majesty.”

Firsa’s eyebrows lifted.

Treez’s warning flashed through my head.

No fake praise.

No mind games.

No useless sweetness.

I kept my expression calm.

Firsa studied me for another second.

Then said, “Good.”

I blinked.

“Now we’ve completed the unnecessary part.”

Rel’s mouth twitched behind her.

Leyra remained perfectly composed.

Firsa leaned forward.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries and discuss why you’re here.”

Excellent.

Queen efficiency.

I bowed my head once.

“Gladly.”

Firsa’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Not hostile.

Interested.

I continued.

“Inizio seeks a truce.”

“Yes.”

“And I came prepared to hear your conditions.”

Firsa tapped one finger against the throne arm.

“You’re not here to present demands first?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because this audience happened after Agran agreed to reopen negotiations.”

I gestured lightly toward her.

“It seems fair that I hear what caused the previous talks to fail before I start throwing Inizio’s own demands onto the table.”

Silence.

Firsa looked at Rel.

Rel gave the tiniest shrug.

Firsa looked back at me.

“Fine.”

That sounded positive.

Probably.

“Then listen.”

I straightened.

Firsa’s tone remained direct.

“First.”

Here we go.

“I want Inizio to establish law preventing unprovoked attacks against Agranians.”

Leyra stayed silent beside me.

I listened.

Firsa continued.

“An Agranian merchant, traveler, adventurer, worker, or resident inside Inizio should not become a lawful target merely because someone dislikes their origin.”

Reasonable.

“If an Inizio noble orders attacks against Agranians without legitimate cause, that noble should be punished.”

I nodded slowly.

“That is sensible.”

Firsa’s expression did not change.

“But?”

I almost laughed.

She already knew.

I smiled formally.

“You were expecting one.”

“I’ve negotiated before.”

Fair.

I had studied this issue.

A lot.

Leyra had made sure of that.

The kingdom’s records were very clear.

Border violence did not belong exclusively to one side.

“Inizio can establish such protections.”

Firsa waited.

“But I believe the same law must exist in Agran.”

Her eyes sharpened.

I continued.

“If an Agranian noble attacks citizens of Inizio without provocation, the punishment should be equivalent.”

Firsa leaned back slightly.

I could feel Rel watching me.

I kept going.

“This cannot be written as Agran protecting its people from Inizio.”

“Why?”

“Because then it is not a peace agreement.”

I paused.

“It is a one-sided restriction.”

Firsa’s gaze remained fixed on me.

“If both kingdoms establish the same standard, then neither side can claim they were forced into submission.”

Silence.

Then Firsa nodded.

“As long as Inizio accepts equal enforcement.”

“It should.”

“Should?”

I smiled faintly.

“I don’t have the authority to pass laws in King Viar’s kingdom.”

Firsa stared at me.

Good.

That caught her attention.

“But,” I continued, “I believe I can bring him a condition he would accept.”

Firsa gave a slow nod.

“Then the first condition becomes mutual protection from unprovoked attacks.”

“Yes.”

“Applied to both kingdoms.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

That was one.

No screaming.

No diplomatic table flipped.

Progress.

Firsa placed her elbow on the throne arm.

“Second.”

Her tone changed slightly.

More serious.

“This is where the previous negotiations broke.”

Ah.

Fun.

“The border regions where territorial lines remain disputed.”

I knew exactly which regions she meant.

Several areas between Inizio and Agran had grown through centuries of unclear claims, old treaties, changing rivers, destroyed markers, settlements expanding in inconvenient directions, and nobles apparently treating maps like creative writing exercises.

Trade routes passed through them.

Very profitable trade routes.

Firsa continued.

“Agran wants both kingdoms to recognize shared access to those routes.”

I remained silent.

“And tolls imposed specifically because the territory is disputed should be removed.”

There it was.

Money.

Nothing made peace harder than revenue.

Firsa watched me.

“I assume you studied the regions.”

“I did.”

“Then you understand their value.”

“I do.”

She leaned forward.

“Good.”

That sounded almost aggressive.

She wanted me to understand exactly what she was asking before answering.

I respected that.

“Inizio earns significantly from those tolls.”

“Yes.”

“Agran does too.”

Firsa’s eyes narrowed.

I continued.

“If Agran removes its tolls in the same disputed regions, I believe Inizio can be asked to do the same.”

Silence.

Firsa stared at me.

Rel’s eyebrows rose slightly.

Leyra remained calm, but I could feel her attention sharpen.

Firsa finally said, “Do you understand what you’re proposing?”

“Yes.”

“I’m asking your kingdom to abandon a major source of revenue.”

“I know.”

“Revenue collected for generations.”

“Yes.”

“And your answer is simply to agree?”

“No.”

Firsa’s eyes narrowed more.

I smiled.

“My answer is that I’m asking you to lose the same revenue.”

That got her.

A tiny pause.

I continued.

“Inizio gives up toll income.”

“Agran gives up toll income.”

“Merchants on both sides gain cheaper routes.”

“Trade volume increases.”

“Border conflict over toll collection decreases.”

“And neither kingdom can claim the other received free access while continuing to charge their own merchants.”

Firsa looked toward Rel.

Rel’s expression said nothing.

Her eyes said she was enjoying this.

Firsa looked back.

“You’re gambling that increased trade compensates for the lost tolls.”

“Yes.”

“That isn’t guaranteed.”

“No.”

“Then why support it?”

“Because the existing system is already expensive.”

Firsa waited.

“Every disputed checkpoint requires guards.”

“Administration.”

“Inspections.”

“Disputes.”

“Bribes.”

“Nobles arguing over who controls what road.”

I smiled faintly.

“Probably several people being stabbed over receipts.”

Rel made the smallest choking sound.

I ignored it.

Firsa’s mouth almost moved.

Almost.

I continued.

“If both kingdoms sacrifice the tolls, both kingdoms sacrifice something equally.”

Firsa stared.

Then nodded once.

“Acceptable.”

Two.

I tried not to celebrate.

Diplomacy was apparently boss combat where smiling too early summoned another phase.

Firsa continued.

“Third.”

I listened.

“Agranians living in Inizio must receive legal protection against discrimination.”

I nodded.

“Residents?”

“All.”

She counted calmly.

“Migrants.”

“Merchants.”

“Adventurers.”

“Craftsmen.”

“Traveling workers.”

“Anyone legally operating inside Inizio.”

Her expression hardened.

“There have been cases of Agranians being refused contracts, attacked, removed from guild work, or charged more because of their race and origin.”

I knew.

I had read reports.

Ugly ones.

I folded my hands behind my back.

“Then this condition should also be reciprocal.”

Firsa’s eyebrows rose.

Again.

“Inizio citizens face the same problem here.”

Leyra glanced at me.

I continued.

“Lionkin merchants have been refused markets.”

“Workers from Inizio have been pushed out of employment.”

“Adventurers have been treated differently by local guild branches.”

Firsa did not deny it.

Good.

“I won’t pretend discrimination is only Agran’s problem.”

Her eyes sharpened.

“And I won’t pretend it is only Inizio’s.”

Firsa stayed silent.

I continued.

“So yes.”

“Agranians should receive protection in Inizio.”

“And Inizio’s people should receive the same protection in Agran.”

Firsa nodded slowly.

“Each kingdom becomes responsible for protecting foreign residents legally operating inside its territory.”

“Yes.”

“Regardless of whether the local population likes them.”

“Exactly.”

Firsa leaned back.

“That is reasonable.”

I smiled.

“Then we’re having a disturbingly productive conversation.”

Rel looked down, hiding a smile.

Firsa actually gave me a very small one.

Barely there.

If I blinked, I would have missed it.

Good.

Treez had not lied.

Firsa wasn’t impossible.

She just hated nonsense.

Honestly, same.

“Fourth.”

Firsa’s voice became more serious again.

“Slavers.”

My humor disappeared.

Immediately.

She noticed.

“Inizio and Agran operate across regions where enslavers move between borders.”

“Yes.”

“If either kingdom encounters a slaver group carrying captives, rescue should take priority regardless of nationality.”

I thought about Silverclaw.

Agrus.

The cages.

The Spriggans Tanya had freed in Ihin.

My answer came easily.

“That shouldn’t require negotiation.”

Firsa’s gaze held mine.

“You agree?”

“I agree with the principle.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Careful wording.”

“I am a representative.”

Not king.

Not lawmaker.

Not council.

I continued.

“I can tell you I would support this condition without hesitation.”

“But?”

“I still have to bring it back to the authority capable of binding Inizio to it.”

Firsa studied me.

Then something in her expression changed.

Interest.

“You don’t see yourself as the person deciding this.”

“No.”

“Most diplomats who stand there eventually begin speaking like kings.”

I smiled.

“That sounds exhausting.”

Rel looked away.

Leyra’s lips twitched.

Firsa continued.

“You were given authority to negotiate.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you keep separating negotiation from final power.”

“Because they’re different.”

I gestured slightly.

“My job is not to walk into Agran and pretend I own Inizio.”

Firsa’s eyes stayed on me.

“My job is to create terms King Viar can sign without believing he surrendered his kingdom.”

Then I gestured toward her.

“And terms you can sign without believing Agran was exploited.”

Silence.

I continued.

“If both sides walk away angry but convinced the other side got nothing unfair, I would call that a decent beginning.”

Firsa stared at me.

Then slowly smiled.

Tiny.

Sharp.

Real.

“That is precisely where your predecessors failed.”

Leyra stayed silent.

I listened.

“They received the title diplomat.”

Firsa’s voice carried open irritation now.

“And suddenly believed that sitting across from a queen made them more important than the people who sent them.”

I could imagine Yori.

Very easily.

Probably walked in here with confidence, insulted someone within ten minutes, and spent the next twenty explaining why everyone else was unreasonable.

Firsa continued.

“They spoke endlessly.”

“Repeated points I already answered.”

“Offered compliments they didn’t mean.”

“And treated every concession as if they were personally gifting Agran something from their own treasury.”

I nodded.

“That sounds painful.”

“It was.”

“You have my apologies on their behalf.”

Firsa looked at me.

“Do you mean that?”

“I mean I’m sorry you had to sit through it.”

Her mouth moved again.

Almost a smile.

“Accepted.”

I breathed internally.

Four conditions.

Still alive.

Nobody had declared war.

Excellent afternoon.

Firsa folded her hands.

“Now.”

Here came our side.

“What does Inizio want?”

Leyra’s posture became subtly firmer.

I already knew the answer.

One condition.

The council had debated plenty.

But ultimately the core issue was simple.

“Inizio asks for one guarantee.”

Firsa waited.

“What happened with Lord Balder cannot happen again without consequence.”

Rel’s expression changed slightly.

Not surprise.

Attention.

Firsa’s face hardened.

I continued.

“If an Inizio noble approaches Agran secretly and attempts to manufacture conflict against his own kingdom, Agran must not simply accept the opportunity and pretend the betrayal belongs only to Inizio.”

Firsa’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re blaming Agran for Balder?”

“No.”

Immediate.

That mattered.

Firsa waited.

“Balder betrayed Inizio.”

“That crime is his.”

“But Agran accepted his plan.”

Rel remained very still behind the throne.

I continued.

“The reason Inizio did not immediately treat Agran as responsible was because Balder’s betrayal began with attacks against Agranians.”

Firsa nodded slowly.

“Inizio understood why Agran listened.”

“Yes.”

“But?”

“If the situation were reversed…”

I let the words sit.

“If an Agranian noble came to Inizio proposing betrayal against Agran…”

Firsa’s expression became colder.

“…and Inizio used that betrayal for its own advantage…”

I shook my head.

“Agran would not call it harmless.”

“No.”

“Neither should Inizio.”

Firsa leaned back.

“What exactly are you asking?”

“Mutual responsibility.”

She watched me.

“If a noble from either kingdom approaches the other with a scheme that would deliberately provoke war, undermine the crown, or use foreign forces against their own kingdom…”

I paused.

“…the receiving kingdom should expose it.”

Firsa’s eyes sharpened.

“To the other crown?”

“Yes.”

“What if doing so damages the informant?”

“That is the point.”

Silence.

“Betrayal should not become profitable simply because the traitor crossed the border before speaking.”

Firsa’s mouth moved.

Small approval.

“And if Inizio receives an Agranian traitor?”

“We inform Agran.”

“Even if the information benefits you?”

I smiled.

“Peace requires doing inconvenient things occasionally.”

Firsa stared at me for a long moment.

Then nodded.

“The condition should bind both kingdoms.”

“Yes.”

“Not only Agran.”

“Yes.”

“Any attempt by a noble to secretly manufacture war through the opposing kingdom must be reported.”

“Exactly.”

Firsa looked toward Rel.

Rel nodded once.

Firsa looked back.

“Then both parties agree.”

Leyra exhaled beside me.

Very quietly.

But I heard it.

Rel’s shoulders relaxed almost invisibly.

Behind Firsa, the Supreme General smiled.

Not her playful smile.

Relief.

Actual relief.

Firsa remained on her throne.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then she said, “This went more smoothly than I expected.”

I smiled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Still taking it.”

Rel covered her mouth.

Firsa gave me the smallest glare.

Not angry.

Good.

Leyra looked like she had just survived an exam where the wrong answer could mobilize two armies.

I bowed my head slightly.

“I’m glad we found terms you consider acceptable.”

Firsa lifted one finger.

“Do not celebrate yet.”

Of course.

I straightened.

“The agreement is not final.”

“I understand.”

“King Viar has not signed.”

“Yes.”

“And neither have I.”

“Yes.”

Firsa’s eyes became sharper.

“However…”

I didn’t like however.

However was the political cousin of but.

Both had ruined many good afternoons.

“…before I sign anything, I have one final condition.”

There it was.

Leyra’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Rel looked toward Firsa.

That caught my attention.

Rel didn’t know.

Interesting.

I spoke calmly.

“What condition?”

Firsa leaned forward.

“I want to see your strength.”

Silence.

I blinked.

Not what I expected.

“You want what?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, but I was hoping repetition would make it sound less strange.”

It did not.

Firsa looked completely serious.

“I have received reports.”

Oh boy.

“Dahera.”

Of course.

“The generals.”

Yes.

“The attacks during your journey.”

Naturally.

“The destruction left behind.”

That sounded worse when listed.

Firsa’s eyes stayed on me.

“You are officially presented as a Spriggan diplomat.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you have defeated warriors who are not easily defeated.”

Fair.

“I want to see it myself.”

I looked at Rel.

She was staring at Firsa.

Actually surprised.

Rel.

Supreme General I Predicted Everything Rel.

Surprised.

This day had become historically significant.

Firsa continued.

“You will fight Supreme General Rel.”

Rel’s head turned toward me.

I looked back.

Her golden eyes widened perhaps one millimeter.

For anyone else?

Nothing.

For Rel?

Panic fireworks.

I pointed at her.

“Her?”

Firsa raised an eyebrow.

“Is there another Supreme General in the room?”

“Just checking.”

Leyra looked between us.

I could already see thoughts moving behind her eyes.

Firsa continued.

“The castle has an arena.”

Naturally.

Every royal castle apparently needed somewhere nobles could responsibly beat each other for political reasons.

“This will be a trial of combat.”

Rel finally spoke.

“Your Majesty.”

Firsa looked at her.

Rel hesitated.

Only slightly.

“This was not discussed.”

“I know.”

Rel stared.

Firsa stared back.

The hierarchy became extremely clear.

Rel sighed almost invisibly.

Firsa returned her attention to me.

“No battle to the death.”

“Comforting.”

“You are not required to win.”

Slightly less comforting.

I looked at Rel.

She smiled.

Now.

Of all times.

That smile was sweet enough to make me suspicious of everything.

Firsa continued.

“But you will not hold back.”

There it was.

I stopped smiling.

She meant it.

Not demonstration strength.

Not ceremonial sparring.

She wanted to know what I could do.

I looked at Leyra.

Her expression was serious.

But behind it?

Excitement.

Of course.

Secret battle addict.

Then I looked at Rel.

Still smiling.

But there was curiosity now.

Very deep curiosity.

Finally, I looked at Firsa.

Queen of Agran.

Woman who apparently decided successful diplomacy needed a surprise boss fight before signatures.

I paused.

Then nodded.

“So be it.”