By mid-November, the high elves had yet to finalize any battle plans, leaving Ryan and his team frustrated.
"What in the world are the high elves doing?" Ryan muttered as he paced impatiently in the villa. "I feel like I've been wasting so much time here in Ulthuan. We haven't made any progress toward either of our main goals: acquiring the Phoenix Incantation Scroll or neutralizing the Graveyard of Ships and its whirlpool threat."
"Ryan, my dear, I've explained this before," the Lady of the Lake said from her place on the couch. She waved a delicate fan in her hand, reclining in a beautiful blush-colored, pleated silk dress. The skirt stopped just above her knees, revealing her legs encased in sheer tan stockings and white heels. She smiled serenely as she continued, "To elves, time feels different. Look at the dwarfs—you know those little guys swore vengeance on Marienburg and took over a year to do anything."
"Relax, Ryan." Sulia, dressed in a sky-blue dress with matching heels and a similar pair of silk stockings, approached and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "We can't control how the high elves handle things, and my Lady has already done what she could."
"Yes, we're long-lived, my dear," Ryan sighed, pulling Sulia into a hug. "But my soldiers aren't, nor are my people."
Sulia blushed. Recently, Ryan had devoted a few days to engraving a complex elven sigil on her abdomen. The sigil strengthened her body's physical attributes by about thirty percent and created a mystical link between them. This mystical connection sometimes led to unexpected emotions and sensations, which often left her with peculiar expressions when they were alone.
"Ryan," the Lady of the Lake interrupted gently, "perhaps we could take a trip to the Moon Palace in Saphery for our wedding. Everything is already arranged, and Teclis could officiate the ceremony."
"Lady, we're here to handle critical issues! Let's talk about the wedding after we've secured the Phoenix Incantation Scroll and dealt with the undead pirates," Ryan protested.
The Lady of the Lake's lips formed a delicate pout, though she understood his priorities. "I only mentioned it because the wedding has been delayed so many times already. We were supposed to marry last week, and it's only because of the inefficiencies in the War Council that we couldn't. The elven court seems to have become synonymous with delay and indecision. I assure you, thousands of years ago, they were quite different."
"Hah! That's what our soft-hearted cousins are like—indecisive and weak," interjected Olica, who had just entered the room, arms laden with freshly laundered clothes. Her expression was a blend of irritation and amusement as she continued, "If this were our homeland of Naggaroth, we'd have acted by now."
"Your methods wouldn't fly here in Ulthuan," the Lady of the Lake retorted, casting Olica a sidelong glance. "Use of force and intimidation may work in Naggaroth, but here in Ulthuan, even a hint of such tactics would result in expulsion from the War Council."
Ryan sighed, thinking that searching for signs of civilization among the dark elves would indeed be akin to looking for "Rome" in the Holy Roman Empire.
"Master," Olica said, her expression turning serious. "If I may, I believe Malekith has already devised his entire strategy and is preparing for a full-scale invasion of Ulthuan."
"You're certain?" Ryan took her opinion seriously, knowing that as a dark elf, Olica understood Malekith's methods better than any high elf ever could.
"My Lord, the dark elves are nothing like our soft-hearted cousins. The Witch King's control over the Dreadlords is absolute, and he prioritizes efficiency over fairness or procedure," Olica explained, casting a sharp glance around the room. "The Black Arks and the armies from Naggaroth have likely already combined with the undead fleets and are approaching Ulthuan, ready to strike."
"Then it's urgent that I warn the War Council," Ryan decided, knowing Olica's assessment was likely spot-on.
"Let's be reasonable, Ryan," Sulia cautioned. "We're unlikely to receive an invitation to the War Council. High elves aren't going to allow humans to dictate their military strategy."
"Which is the most frustrating part of all," Ryan muttered, exasperated. "Still, I'll have to relay this through Arsené and hope they take it seriously."
Ryan, followed closely by Sulia, headed downstairs and just as they prepared to leave, there was a knock at the door.
"Good day, King Ryan, Queen Sulia. I am Arsené, and this is His Excellency, Lord Charles Moris Bannister, the Phoenix King's most trusted Minister of State and Foreign Affairs." Arsené introduced them politely, gesturing to Charles, who offered a respectful bow. "The Phoenix King has sent us to inquire if you have any insights on the impending conflict."
"Please, come in," Ryan replied, gesturing to the sofas.
The Minister of State conveyed the Phoenix King's warm regards and invited Ryan to dinner at the earliest convenience, though Charles explained that the War Council had sequestered the Phoenix King due to imminent hostilities. While Finubar could not meet with Ryan personally, he eagerly anticipated a private dinner once circumstances allowed.
"May we know, Your Majesty, what your thoughts are on the state of affairs?" Charles asked politely. "The Phoenix King and the War Council are still awaiting strategic consensus."
"What is it that the Phoenix King wishes to know?" Ryan asked, glancing at Sulia as they took their seats. The Lady of the Lake discreetly moved to the corner of the room, ensuring she went unnoticed by Arsené and Charles.
"The King would like your honest opinion on the matter," Charles replied smoothly, his features displaying that signature elegance and latent pride unique to the high elf court.
"I'd say Ulthuan must secure a concrete plan of action and advance without delay," Ryan began. "It's imperative to notify every kingdom on Ulthuan's perimeter to prepare for immediate war. I suspect that the dark elves and undead pirates may already be preparing to strike the outer kingdoms."
Charles looked thoughtful, though he wore a slight frown. "Already prepared? Your Majesty, I find that unlikely. But tell me, in your view, which area would the dark elves and undead likely target?"
"It's hard to say," Ryan admitted. "There are signs of an impending assault, but pinpointing a specific target is beyond my knowledge. Dark elves may leave clues, but the actions of undead pirates remain impossible to predict."
Charles gave a small nod, his eyes betraying a slight disbelief. In his mind, if he were to report this to the court without specifics, he'd appear foolish. If Ryan guessed wrong, the responsibility would fall on him, and if he failed to provide an accurate prediction, he'd bear the blame alone.
"Regarding naval engagement," Charles pressed. "How does Your Majesty intend to use the ironclads?"
"We have two ironclads: Enterprise and Saint Sophia. Their cannons possess firepower unmatched by any pirate vessel, and their armor makes them highly resilient against enemy cannon fire. However, their maneuverability and speed lag behind elven dragon ships. This limits them in quick maneuvers and high-speed pursuits. But they're perfect for defensive or slow, advancing formations and can endure boarding or ramming tactics with ease," Ryan replied.
"So you suggest…?" Charles asked, confused by the technical details, hoping for a clear answer.
"If they're engaged in naval battle, the ironclads should not directly join high-elf strike fleets or any maneuver requiring swift flanking or pincer movements," Ryan explained. "Instead, the ironclads' primary role should be to defend and disrupt enemy formations—a strategy of defending the ships to defeat the enemy."
Charles forced a polite smile, unsure what to make of this advice. Defend the ships to defeat the enemy? This 'King of Knights' sounds more afraid than battle-ready, he thought.
Suppressing an eye roll, Arsené's brow lifted slightly.
The Asur's Star Dragon Fleet was the best in the world. If Charles were to return to the Phoenix Court and suggest a strategy of "defending the ships to defeat the enemy," the entire War Council might burst out laughing. It'd be career suicide, and Charles was not about to gamble his reputation for this human king's questionable tactics.
Still, with a serene smile, Charles politely thanked Ryan for his "insights" before taking his leave, signaling for Arsené to follow.
Watching the pair walk out, Ryan turned to the Lady of the Lake. "Do you think the high elves will heed any of that, my Lady?"
"It hardly matters, dear; you've done what you could," she replied with a noncommittal shrug. "Prepare for war."
"Yes." Ryan nodded. "Sulia, come with me. Let's meet Fulgrim, and head to the foreign quarter to inspect the ironclads' combat readiness."
"Yes!"
---
Meanwhile, in the War Council room of Lothern, Phoenix King Finubar, flanked by the White Lion Guard Captain Cohir, sat mutely as he watched Tyrion's endless efforts to coordinate their forces' deployment. Discussions dragged on over every battalion's specific use, often for hours, due to political interests and backroom deals. Whenever a decision was finally made, Tyrion turned to Finubar for his input.
"As you wish, Lord Warden," Finubar would reply every time, his blank expression matching that of a mute
Psyduck as he nodded passively. Tyrion, seeing his king's compliance, secretly found relief in Finubar's detachment. If they won the upcoming battle, Finubar's gratitude would be well earned.
Just then, Charles returned from his meeting with Ryan and offered a respectful salute.
"Charles, finally back! So, what did that Knight King have to say?" Finubar asked, pleased at the opportunity to speak.
The Council turned its attention to Charles.
"The knight king extended his greetings to the Phoenix King and stated that he and his ironclads will loyally execute our plans." Charles spoke with poise, glancing briefly at Tyrion.
"Excellent!" The members nodded in approval. It seems humans understood Asur superiority after all.
"Nothing else?" Finubar pressed.
"Only that the knight king hopes to have dinner with you at your earliest convenience," Charles added with a smile.
"Well, arrange it," Tyrion quickly interjected before Finubar could answer. Finubar, finding no reason to protest, agreed. "Only once we're victorious, of course," he added.
The War Council resumed its discussions while Finubar once again settled into his silent routine, like a Psyduck pondering over a blank canvas.
All is calm on this peaceful day in Lothern.
---
Meanwhile, off Ulthuan's coast, an ominous coalition fleet emerged from the ocean mists.
Consisting of 45 undead pirate ships and 12 Druchii vessels—including one formidable Black Ark—the fleet sailed steadily toward Ulthuan.
Standing proudly at the prow of his flagship, the massive three-kilometer-long Bloody Marauder, Count Noctilus, King of the Undead Pirate Empire, lifted his saber and declared to his horde, "Advance, lads! Prepare for war and plunder!"
This time, the operation would bear a single name: Revenge.
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