Trinity of Magic

”I will choose my reward.”

The voice belonged to none other than Odyr, the Archdruid.

The bearlike man rose without being asked and strode toward the woman who had introduced herself as Myr Sala.

The old woman had to crane her neck to look up at the towering figure, but the moment Odyr came within five steps of her, he suddenly slowed.

He stopped completely, still no closer than four steps away.

Leo couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but Odyr’s movements seemed strangely unnatural. The momentum with which he had approached did not match the meekness with which he now held back.

”Your certificate?” Myr asked.

Odyr grunted, rummaged beneath the folds of his pelts, and tossed the scroll to Myr.

The old woman did not catch it by hand, but with a tendril that slithered from her sleeve. It was visible only for an instant before disappearing again. It struck like a snake, and even Leo barely had time to recognize what it was.

A vine.

The moment it snatched the scroll, Myr began reciting into the amplifying device.

”Odyr of Irroch,” she proclaimed. ”You are hereby recognized for your contribution to Rukia’s triumph. Your greatest deed may well have been the continuous siege of the southern fort of Sunroot, during which you fought two enemy Archmages for nearly half a day without allowing them to gain the advantage.”

Here, the old woman paused, giving the crowd a moment to cheer. Many did. Only when the applause died down did she continue.

”For your deeds, our venerable queen has seen fit to bestow upon you three third-class merits, one second-class merit, and one first-class merit, which is the equivalent of fifteen third-class merits.”

”Now, please choose your reward. But before you do, a word of warning: if you desire a direct monetary reward, you will likely have to wait quite some time for the payment to be made. Our treasury cannot afford to be stretched any thinner than it already is.”

Leo heard a scoff. He didn’t need to turn to know who it had come from.

Naturally, it was Silas Dorn, who had already made his position known during the banquet.

Still, Leo understood where the man was coming from.

Not only had they effectively excluded him from the most tempting rewards, they now proclaimed that the rewards he was allowed to choose could be delayed for an undetermined amount of time. It was no different than a slap to the face.

Leo turned his head to the side, trying to see how Zeke would take the news. His brother did not react at all. Head propped on one hand, he merely watched the spectacle with a faintly bemused expression.

“I choose the reward of land and title,” Odyr said.

Myr nodded. “A wise choice, druid. Do you have a preferred location, or will you allow the crown to choose a suitable place? If you accept the latter, additional land will be granted to exceed the value of your reward.”

Odyr shook his head decisively. “I have already chosen a place.”

Myr did not press him. With a slight wave of her hands, two thick vines rose from the ground like stakes. Between them unfurled a giant map of Rukia, large enough that even the crowd could make out the different regions.

Odyr pointed toward the bottom of the map. The region he indicated lay in the deep south.

“Are you certain?” Myr asked. “You may be able to claim a large stretch of land in such a barren region, but I must warn you, there is nothing of worth there. Not even the bones of a village have been established.”

Odyr snorted. “I will be the judge of that.”

Myr held his gaze a moment longer before letting out a sigh. “That is your right. Will you assume control of the region yourself, or do you intend to appoint a steward?”

“I will take it.”

Myr nodded. “As one of the meritorious parties, you are exempt from any further testing.”

Leo’s brows furrowed. Testing? What was that about?

Myr continued, “Are you aware that by accepting this land and title, you will henceforth be a subject of Rukia and the queen? You will hold all the rights and privileges of that station, but also bear its responsibilities, including mobilization in wartime?”

Odyr inclined his head. “I am aware.”

Myr’s voice grew even more solemn as she spoke the next part. “Then, Druid, bow to your queen before these witnesses and rise as Thornwarden, guardian of the southern marches.”

Odyr frowned for a moment, then finally lowered his head slightly in the queen’s direction.

“...Deeper.”

It was not the queen who gave the command, but Myr.

Odyr didn’t move. Apparently, this was as far as his pride was willing to bend.

In the next moment, a monumental pressure descended. It wasn’t directed at Leo, but he still felt his body nearly buckle despite being seated.

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Odyr, standing at the center of the storm, underwent a violent change of expression. His face grew noticeably red as he tried to resist the pressure, but judging by the sweat beading on his brow, it was not an easy battle.

“Deeper,” Myr repeated. Despite the immense pressure she was emitting, not a hint of strain could be heard in her tone.

A tense silence followed, during which Leo thought Odyr might genuinely collapse. In the end, the druid lowered his head by a fraction. The pressure slowly withdrew, and everyone’s breathing eased.

“Rise, Thornwarden Odyr,” Myr announced cheerfully, as if the earlier interlude had never happened. “From this day forth, the southern lands from the Kataya River to the Littlehorn Hills will be under your protection.”

Odyr said nothing. He merely stared at the old woman for a few seconds before turning to leave. However, before he could make it halfway, the old woman called out to him again.

“One more thing, Lord Odyr.”

His steps halted.

“As a lord of Rukia, you are required to meet certain standards in safeguarding your region. These include the culling of monsters and the development of the land to provide taxes. A steward will soon inform you of the exact yearly requirements. But for a man of your considerable means, they will naturally pose no problem.”

Odyr did not reply as he continued walking. His chair creaked loudly as he dropped into it, evidently in a foul mood. Even so, his expression relaxed a moment later when a large portion of the southern wilds on the map began to shift to his color.

It was a region large enough to fit Tradespire ten times over.

But Leo wasn’t paying much attention to that; his eyes remained fixed on the old woman.

Goosebumps still prickled Leo’s arms from the earlier display of power.

“Lady Sala is truly fierce,” he whispered to Zeke beside him.

“...She is a fool.”

“What?” Leo whipped his head around, genuinely surprised by his brother’s judgment.

Zeke shook his head, apparently too lazy to explain.

“You can walk beside a river for only so long before your feet get wet,” he murmured, which only confused Leo more.

But before he could dwell on those words any longer, the old woman called out again.

”Which of the remaining guests would like to come forward next to claim their reward?”

This time, there was a brief delay before anyone volunteered. Odyr’s treatment had clearly made them hesitate. In the end, however, none of the people gathered here were easily cowed.

”I will.”

The man who spoke had a full head of crimson hair, much like Zeke’s.

He strode forward confidently, but stopped well beyond the four-step boundary where Odyr had been forcefully halted. He clearly had no desire to invite the same humiliation.

Before he was even prompted, he presented his merit certificate with both hands.

Myr nodded, and the same vine slithered from her robe to retrieve the scroll.

”Krazal of House Bloodletter,” she proclaimed. ”You are hereby recognized for your great contribution to Rukia’s triumph. Your greatest deeds are also tied to your relentless siege of one of the great forts: the eastern fort of Strattlehold.”

Here, the old woman paused once more, giving the crowd time to cheer.

“For your deeds, our venerable queen has seen fit to bestow upon you the same reward, for a total of fifteen third-class merits. Now, please choose your reward.”

“I choose land and title, Lady Sala,” Krazal announced without hesitation.

“Will you allow the crown to choose the location, or will you select the land yourself?”

Krazal smiled. “I will leave it to the crown to decide.”

“A very fine choice,” Myr said. She was clearly more courteous than she had been with Odyr. She approached the throne, whispered a few words to the queen, and then returned.

“Lord Bloodletter, the queen has decided to grant you the stretch of land northeast of Strattlehold. It encompasses three notable cities, including one of the jewels of the east: Granisburt.”

Leo’s eyes were drawn to the map. Because of its proximity to the inner regions, the area was nowhere near as vast as the territory Odyr had claimed, but it was far more developed. That alone made it valuable, and even to Leo’s eyes, it was clear the land was worth more than fifteen merits. Clearly, the crown had granted him more than a little extra for letting them decide.

Krazal’s eyes lit up. “I am profoundly grateful for the queen’s favor.”

Myr nodded, as if it were a matter of course. “Now, let me ask you one final question: will you assume control of the region yourself, or do you intend to appoint a steward?”

“Unfortunately, my responsibilities at home prevent me from taking on the role myself. I will appoint a steward in my stead.”

Myr remained silent for a while. “...Who?” Her tone had grown noticeably cooler.

Krazal beckoned to a man in the crowd, who immediately stepped forward.

“This is Bedran, Lady Sala.

“You will find him no less capable than I am, and he has served as a steward to my family for many years.”

The man, Bedran, released a flicker of Mana. To Leo’s surprise, it was clearly at the level of an Archmage. He did not look much like a Blood Mage, though.

Myr’s eyes narrowed as she studied the man below the stage.

“...Your last name is not Bloodletter, is it?”

Bedran shook his head with a regretful expression. “Unfortunately, I do not have that honor. My Lightning affinity prevents me from learning the family’s secrets. But you can rest assured, Lady Sala, my wife shares the family’s blood, and—”

“Rejected.”

“Excuse me?”

“Rejected,” Myr repeated.

Krazal’s expression changed for the first time. His polite smile gave way to a neutral mask. “...On what grounds?” he asked.

“Only direct family members may serve as stewards for lands claimed as rewards,” Myr said without hesitation.

Krazal paused. “I was not informed of this.”

“Consider yourself informed now.”

A vein throbbed in Krazal’s forehead. He was clearly not as calm as he pretended. After a deep breath, however, he managed to continue in an even voice.

“...Very well. But if that is the case, Lady Sala, I will need time to find a replacement.”

The old woman shook her head. “It is today or never. This reward will not be offered again.”

Krazal’s mouth twitched. He was clearly fighting a losing battle not to scowl.

Leo found the situation just as baffling. Rukia was offering lavish rewards, yet doing so in a way that made the recipients feel cheated. Even if they accepted in the end, the deal would leave a bitter taste.

His gaze shifted to the queen, who watched the scene unfold without the slightest change in expression. To Leo, it looked like tacit approval.

Was the country truly so desperate for even these minor concessions that they would resort to such underhanded methods? Leo understood, of course, why they would prefer a direct family member to accept the title; it would bind them more closely to the country. But he wasn’t sure it would be worth the cost in the end.

Then again, the queen had even dared to scheme against Zeke, so there was likely very little she would not do.

“What do you think he’ll choose?” Leo asked.

“What else?” Zeke answered without hesitation. “He’ll accept.”

“Even if he has to take the position himself and swear fealty?”

Zeke shook his head. “That is still far from their bottom line. Not with how much the crown has offered.”

Leo wasn’t so sure. He watched as Krazal scanned the rows of his men, frantically searching for any viable candidate. The man was clearly desperate to avoid accepting the title himself.

But no matter whom he proposed, every suggestion was shot down. Most were deemed too weak to hold the vast lands he had been promised, while others did not share the family name. For a moment, it almost looked as if Krazal might formally adopt Bedran on the spot, just to escape his predicament.

But that, ultimately, proved to be a boundary Krazal would not cross. It would lower the family’s prestige too much.

In the end, Zeke’s prediction proved correct.

“Very well, then,” Krazal said through gritted teeth. “I will accept the title.”

Once again, the old woman broke into a radiant smile, as if the earlier tension had never existed.

Leo finally understood what Zeke had meant earlier. Rukia was playing with fire, and if they continued like this, they would be burned sooner rather than later.