The wooden table in the mine's main admin building creaks under the weight of scrolls, papers, and a few empty mugs of questionable black liquid someone insisted was coffee.
Lucien sits at the head, sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly unbuttoned, eyes gleaming with confidence as he points at a sketched map of the Ashlands.
"And if we can secure a trade route through this valley," he says, tapping a point near the eastern border, "we can link to the southern kingdoms without having to go through three black market middlemen and a smuggler named Grumpy Vic."
X'zelle pinches the bridge of her nose. "Grumpy Vic is a menace. Last shipment we sent with him, he tried to marry the caravan leader and eloped with half the silk."
Ignara leans forward, her brow furrowed in a rare moment of visible concern. "I still say this plan is reckless, my Lord. You want to go beyond the Ashlands, alone, into potentially hostile territory. We can't risk you being assassinated or worse, captured. It's too dangerous."
Before Lucien can answer, the double doors burst open with a dramatic crack, and Val strides in like a victorious warlord, shirt open, tie dragging behind him like a lazy scarf. In one hand he holds a massive roasted boar leg, still steaming, and in the other, a jug of thick, brown gravy.
"Don't stop on my account," Val grins, dropping into a chair like a collapsing monument. He raises the jug high and pours it generously over the meat, gravy splattering his pristine vest and pants. "Carry on."
The team stares.
He begins gnawing with disturbing enthusiasm, tearing whole mouthfuls from the bone in a single wrenching bite. Grease glistens on his chin and drips onto the map, pooling over a border he's already smudged twice.
Lucien clears his throat. "Right. Where were we?"
Ignara slams her fist down. "We were explaining why this entire idea is batshit crazy!"
Val pauses mid-bite. "This sounds fun."
X'zelle gestures to the map. "No demon lord has ever left the Ashlands outside of wartime. The moment you cross that line, you lose your protection, your aura, your magic, everything. You'll be a walking target."
Lucien exhales, then glances at Serenith, who leans against the wall sipping a glowing drink. "I'll have Serenith with me. That's divine-grade firepower."
Serenith scoffs, wings fluttering. "Oh yes, because a glowing angel flying over enemy territory won't draw any attention. That's as subtle as setting a brothel on fire and calling it 'subdued ambiance.'"
Lucien throws his hands up. "I need to go. This isn't just about diplomacy. I need to see what's out there. Infrastructure, shipping lanes, black markets, merchant guilds. If I'm going to build a kingdom that lasts, I need proper, legal, stable trade. I can't do that from behind borders and shadows, staring at the same three ore-stained maps for the rest of my unnaturally long life."
The room falls silent, except for Val, who belches like an avalanche and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm.
"What's the fuss?" he says through a mouthful of meat. "Lucien wants to leave the pit and stretch his legs. What's the worst that could happen?"
Serenith gives him a look. "He gets murdered in an alley and his skull ends up on a pike outside some royal gates."
Val blinks, then nods. "Right. Forgot mortals are fragile."
Lucien opens his mouth to respond, but Val waves a hand.
"I'll go with him," he says, casually. "I'm not bound by this territory nonsense. You all saw what I did to that hill yesterday."
"You ate it," Ignara says flatly.
"Exactly," Val says, raising his boar leg like a sword. "Nothing out there's gonna mess with me. I'll keep your little overlord, and my investment, safe."
Lucien grins. "It's settled then. I'll spend the next few days tying up loose ends here, then Val and I take a little road trip. Fact-finding, trade-talks, maybe some light seduction."
The rest of the team collectively groans.
Vex and Vile, the twin troublemakers, launch themselves at Lucien from opposite sides.
"You're leaving us?!" Vex pouts.
"For two weeks?!" Vile gasps.
Lucien wraps his arms around their waists. "It's not goodbye. And I'll give you the full package before I go."
Vex licks her lips. "With all extras?"
Vile wiggles her eyebrows. "And snacks after?"
Val rolls his eyes so hard they nearly spin into his skull.
Across the table, Ignara clears her throat. "Ahem."
Lucien glances up. "Yes, dear?"
"Full package," she says, crossing her arms, "or I strike."
"Same," X'zelle adds, her stone-cold demeanor briefly cracking with a smirk.
"M-Me too," Veyra says softly, cheeks slightly red, clutching her clipboard to her chest like a shield.
Lucien laughs, kisses both twins on the head, and looks around the room. "I shall ensure all my beloveds are thoroughly satisfied before I vanish into the civilized world."
Everyone sighs in mock ecstasy, except Serenith, who groans audibly and drops her forehead onto the wall.
"What about me?" she mutters.
Lucien blinks. "Wait, you want the full package too?"
"NO!" she shrieks, spinning around with a horrified scowl. "I mean, supervision. Oversight. You're not supposed to leave the Ashlands. That was the deal. You're technically on parole from eternal imprisonment. You have a divine contract, remember?!"
Lucien waves a hand. "The demon lord can't leave."
He leans back, smirking. "But I'm not the demon lord once I cross that border. I'm just Lucien Vale. A simple traveling merchant."
She sighs and rolls her eyes. "You're going to get us all smited."