The departure of Magnoli and Brisena, accompanied by the troops assigned by Damerius to search for Rogg, marked a journey that was not only long but riddled with peril. Nine months stretched endlessly as the mission unfolded—entangling them in a war against Lagosh, an exhausting trek to Rhazab Gush, and finally, a return to Patisia after eleven grueling months. Every step of their path was laced with threats from enemies, natural traps, and internal tensions that demanded unwavering leadership from both Brisena and Magnoli.
Meanwhile, back in Patisia, Damerius—now known as Lord Rius—was fighting a different kind of battle: to retain his position. The commercial empire that once stood as the cornerstone of his power had become a growing burden. He began to realize that his rash decisions in the past had left gaping cracks, now exploited by his political adversaries. Threats from the imperial court, especially from the Larfex ministers' coalition, tightened like a noose around every move he made.
Behind the towering walls of Whiteheaven Palace, Empress Xienna did not remain idle. Upon learning that Prince Damma Lorexius—now hiding in plain sight as Lord Rius—was still alive, she unleashed a near-invisible yet devastating strategy. Imperial troops were deployed to Patisia under the pretense of supervision, but their true objective was clear: to weaken Damerius, sever his influence, and ensure he could never ignite a rebellion.
The pressure around Damerius grew suffocating. While the palace had not outright seized his assets, the relentless oversight and bureaucratic constraints were enough to nearly paralyze his trade operations. Every decision weighed heavier, every plan demanded flawless precision.
He sat alone in his study, a quiet chamber with a wide window overlooking the bustling harbor of Patisia. Outside, merchant ships came and went, bearing hope for many—but to Damerius, they were a constant reminder of his fight. With a glass of wine in hand, he watched the sky shift to crimson with the setting sun.
"This mistake is mine," he murmured, almost to himself. "I rushed. I was overconfident. And now... they've driven me into a corner."
An elderly man with thin gray hair entered, bowing respectfully. "Lord Rius, a letter from the palace has arrived," he said, handing over a scroll sealed with gold.
Damerius received it carefully, broke the seal, and read the contents thoroughly. His firm expression darkened. Empress Xienna was now demanding a detailed report of all trade transactions in Patisia over the last three months. It was no ordinary request—it was another trap, a calculated attempt to expose flaws in his enterprise.
"The Empress will not stop," Damerius said, eyes locked on the old servant. "She wants me to fall, even if it means destroying all of Patisia."
"But, my Lord, you still have strength. The people of Patisia believe in you," the servant replied sincerely. "Don't give in. Even a cornered lion still knows how to fight."
Damerius fell silent, gazing at the tall mirror in the corner of the room. The reflection showed a weary man, but his eyes still held a flicker of resolve.
"I know. A cornered lion is often the most dangerous of all," he replied with a faint smile. "But we won't fight with claws—we'll fight with cunning."
He stood, took a steady breath, and spoke with newfound determination. "Assemble my most trusted advisors. It's time for a new strategy. I won't let them destroy everything I've built."
Elsewhere, within the gilded halls of Whiteheaven Palace, Empress Xienna sat on her throne, her face cold and unreadable.
"Damerius is too slippery," she told one of her Larfex ministers. "But I'll make sure he has no room left to breathe. Soon, Patisia will be mine—completely."
The political intrigue spun by Xienna was a long game—one that demanded patience. But Damerius had no intention of letting it unfold unchecked. In the shadows of power and politics, a greater game was beginning to take shape, with Patisia as the main stage.
The meeting chamber in the modest palace of Patisia was thick with tension. Damerius, now known as Lord Rius, stood by a tall window, gazing out at the city pulsing with the life of its people. Behind him, a messenger entered the room with respectful caution.
"Lord Rius," he said carefully, his tone measured. "Prince Dorges requests an audience with you. He awaits in the hall."
Damerius took a long breath, clasping his hands behind his back. "An audience? Or a warning?" he asked coldly, without turning.
"I... I'm not sure, my lord," the messenger stammered.
After a brief pause, Damerius finally turned around. "Tell him I'll see him shortly. And prepare our finest tea. Diplomacy, after all, begins with hospitality."
Not long after, Damerius entered the hall where his elder brother, Prince Dorges, awaited him. Dorges stood tall—broad-shouldered, commanding, with a gaze sharp enough to wound. Beneath the surface, however, smoldered a faint disdain—like fire beneath ash.
"Prince Dorges," Damerius greeted, his smile so slight it barely touched his lips.
"My brother—Damma Lorexius, or should I say... Damerius," Dorges replied, his voice just as flat, deliberately omitting any title to assert his higher rank. "It's been a year since we last met."
They sat across from each other at a long table adorned with steaming tea cups. The air between them felt heavy enough to choke.
"I hear you recently completed a transfer of power with Prince Neroxius in Blacksand," Damerius began, his tone light, though edged with implication.
"Indeed," Dorges replied, lifting his cup. "A strategic move—one sanctioned by the palace. As you know, decisions like that are not to be contested."
"Much like the decision to station you here, in Patisia?" Damerius held his gaze, a cold, almost mocking smile on his lips.
Dorges set his cup down and returned the look with a chill of his own. "I'm not here to play petty politics, Damerius. I was sent to ensure this region remains stable. And that includes making sure you don't try anything foolish."
"Foolish?" Damerius leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Is it foolish to build a thriving economy? To support a people crushed by imperial taxes? That's what you call foolish?"
Dorges shifted slightly forward, his voice sharper now. "Foolish is building a militia behind closed doors. Foolish is trying to win the hearts of the people without the Empire's blessing. I saw it myself—at that arena. You were reckless."
A brief silence settled over the room. Damerius didn't react immediately. He knew this was not a battle of strength—but of words, strategy, and patience.
"Tell me, Prince Dorges," he said quietly, his voice cutting, "has it ever crossed your mind that the palace cares more about who holds power than how the people live? Perhaps that's our difference. You see stability as control. I see it as the well-being of the people."
Dorges' expression hardened, but he didn't answer at once. Instead, he stood—his figure towering over his younger brother.
"Dammerius," he said, his voice weighty with threat, "I don't care what you do, as long as it doesn't endanger the throne. But if you ever move against me... you will feel the full force of the imperial army. Remember that."
With deliberate steps, Dorges turned and left the hall, leaving Damerius still seated, his expression unreadable. Outwardly calm—but inside, the storm was rising.
Empress Xienna stood on the palace balcony, her gaze sweeping across the vast royal gardens. Beside her stood Minister Zephyron, one of her few allies from the Torens race, speaking in a voice laden with caution.
"Your move worked, Your Majesty," Zephyron said. "Dorges and Damerius are now in increasing opposition. But... is it enough to weaken Damerius?"
Xienna offered a thin smile. "Weaken? No, Zephyron. My goal isn't to weaken either of them—it's to ensure that one destroys the other. Neither Dorges nor Damerius carries my blood. I don't care who wins, as long as neither becomes powerful enough to challenge my position."
"But Damerius is different," Zephyron continued. "He has the people's support—and that's more dangerous than the backing of any army."
"The people only care about who feeds them," Xienna replied coolly. "And once I cut off his resources, Damerius will fall."
Zephyron watched her with unease. "Or become even stronger."
Zephyron, a sycophantic minister from the Torens clan—the same race as Netia, mother to Prince Dorges—knew better than to press further.
Damerius studied the large map laid out before him, showing the territories of Whiteheaven. His finger rested on Patisia, then traced across the lands of Larfex, Whitesand, and Blacksand.
"The people are the key," he murmured. "I won't fight them with swords. I'll fight them with the people's hearts at my side. And when the time comes, not even the palace will be able to withstand that force."
He knew the path he was walking was perilous. But for Damerius, this was no longer about ambition—it was about proving that true power comes not from fear, but from the trust of the people.
He sat alone in his quiet study, his reflection staring back from the large mirror on the wall. His face was tired, but his eyes still burned with plans. Piles of reports covered the table in front of him—documents detailing market decline, trade disruptions, and lands now contested by other lords.
A gentle knock broke his train of thought.
"Enter," Damerius said, not looking up.
The door opened and Valtros Gorn, commander of the Nori spy force, stepped into the room. Tall and composed, his dark cloak gave him an air of silent menace. He gave a respectful nod before speaking.
"Lord Rius, you summoned me?"
Damerius nodded and gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit, Valtros. There's something we need to discuss."
Valtros obeyed, though curiosity flickered in his eyes. "What do you require?"
Damerius set down the report he was reading and looked directly into Valtros's eyes. "I want you to investigate Magnoli. Immediately."
"Investigate Magnoli?" Valtros frowned. "Didn't you send Prince Magnoli away to search for Rogg? That was a critical mission, my lord. Do you believe he's in danger?"
Damerius took a deep breath and rose from his seat, walking to the large window that overlooked the bustling streets of Patisia. "It's not just that, Valtros. Ever since Magnoli left, everything feels... off. My business has slowed. Merchants who were once loyal have shifted away. Even the lords have begun meddling in my affairs, as if I'm just some nuisance without protection."
Valtros nodded slowly, trying to grasp the weight of his lord's concern. "You believe Magnoli was the key to your success?"
"More than that," Damerius replied quietly. "Magnoli could see what I could not. He spotted cracks before they widened. He controlled the flow before it collapsed. When he was around, everything moved like clockwork. But now, without him... I feel like I'm walking in the dark."
Valtros narrowed his eyes. "Do you suspect something, my lord? That perhaps... someone used his absence to weaken your position?"
Damerius turned from the window, his face grave. "That's what I need to find out. Is this just coincidence—or part of something larger? I won't sit idle and let this spiral further. I want everything on Magnoli—his movements, his connections, his business."
Valtros gave a firm nod. "I'll mobilize the Nori agents immediately to track Magnoli and everything tied to him. But if this is part of a greater political game, you'll need more than just Magnoli to survive it. Do you have another plan?"
Damerius gave a faint, knowing smile. "I always have a plan, Valtros. But for now, focus on your mission. Find everything you can about Magnoli and bring it to me. If he truly is the key, then we can't afford to lose him any longer."
A few days later, Damerius summoned the regional lords to his estate. The atmosphere in the room was tense, filled with polite smiles masking veiled hostility.
"Lords," Damerius began, his voice calm yet firm. "I've called you here to address the situation unfolding in Patisia. As you know, this city is a vital center of trade, and I won't allow personal interests to jeopardize our collective prosperity."
Lord Tois of Galdric—a man with white hair and eyes brimming with cunning—leaned back in his chair. "Lord Rius, no one here wishes to sabotage Patisia's prosperity. However, some of your recent decisions, particularly the large-scale land acquisition for the arena, have raised concerns among us. Are you truly certain this serves the people's interest?"
Damerius gave a slight smile. "Of course, Lord Tois. The arena is not merely for entertainment; it's a major investment designed to draw more merchants and travelers to Patisia. Its benefits will ripple outward—to all of you included. Even if you lost your wager with me, you must admit the arena has already begun to boost the city's economy."
Another lord, a short man named Ferros, interjected with a mocking tone. "And yet, ever since the arena was completed, your own market has plummeted. How can you be so sure your plan is working when your business is clearly struggling?"
Damerius's face remained composed, though his gaze sharpened. "Because I don't rely on one person, or one moment. I am building Patisia with a long-term vision. If you doubt that, then perhaps you're doubting your own commitment to this city."
A heavy silence fell over the room, though the tension thickened. Damerius understood this was no longer about land or trade. It was about power. These lords were testing his limits, probing for weaknesses.
In the dead of night, Valtros returned with his initial report.
"My lord, we've traced signs of Magnoli near the border between Blacksand and Larfex. But it seems the prince harbors more secrets than we suspected. There are indications he's operating with another clandestine group outside the imperial palace."
Damerius narrowed his eyes. "Another group? Who are they?"
"We're not certain yet, my lord. But they don't appear to be affiliated with the palace. This may be part of a much larger game."
Damerius began pacing the room, his mind racing. "If this is political warfare, then our enemy is far more powerful than just the lords of Patisia. We must act swiftly before the Empire seizes control of everything."
Valtros gave a solemn nod. "What will be your next move?"
"We fight the same way," Damerius replied, his voice brimming with resolve. "We turn our people into a secret force of our own. If they wish to play the game of politics and press us into a corner, then I'll show them—I can be an unbeatable player too."