By sunrise, Lord Loki had apparently defeated Guy Crimson.
By breakfast, Guy had crushed him so thoroughly that Coleus was desperately scrambling to hide the King's injuries.
By midmorning, Lord Loki had surrendered to Heaven, accepted a subservient position beneath Feldway, and agreed to open the western nations to an angelic crusade.
By noon, he had somehow become the secret master mind controlling that same crusade.
Loki sat behind his desk in the royal palace, staring down at the sprawling array of local and foreign broadsheets covering the carved wood.
One prominent headline read:
COLEUS KING FORCES LORD OF THE NORTH INTO HUMILIATING RETREAT
The publication resting beside it offered an entirely different reality:
PRIMORDIAL LOKI SAVED FROM SLAUGHTER BY HEAVENLY INTERVENTION
A third rag had somehow managed to splice both narratives together:
LORD LOKI FELLS GUY CRIMSON, SWEARS FEALTY TO CELESTIAL MASTER
Lord Loki slowly set the third paper down.
"Explain to me," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "how I managed to win, lose, surrender, and become Feldway's superior officer all in the span of a single afternoon?"
Veyron stood across the desk in an immaculate dark coat, one gloved hand resting behind his back. As Coleus's Minister of Foreign Affairs, he had spent the better part of the morning fielding contradictory inquiries from panicked foreign diplomats pretending not to be having nervous breakdowns.
"With remarkable administrative efficiency, My Lord."
Loki glanced up at him.
Veyron's face remained a completely blank mask.
"That came dangerously close to a joke, Veyron."
"I have been working in your service for too long, My Lord. Bad habits are contagious."
Near the tall stained-glass window, Moss stood perfectly still, his diminutive frame draped beneath a heavy gray cloak. Slips of parchment hovered in mid-air around him, each covered in dense, coded intelligence gathered by Coleus's broad spy network.
Cien occupied the far end of the long conference table. Ledgers, commodity index charts, and foreign trade notices were arranged before him with such razor-sharp precision that Loki suspected moving a single sheet half an inch left would constitute an act of high financial sabotage.
"The broadsheets are not spinning these tales at random," Moss reported quietly. "Our intelligence network traces the initial wave to five distinct narrative clusters."
He lifted a single finger.
"The first originated among northern merchant cartels. Their version claims Lord Guy thoroughly defeated you, but Feldway intervened to preserve your life. That specific narrative protects northern trade equities by reassuring investors that the established balance of power in the Ice Continent remains undisturbed."
A second finger rose.
"The second cluster emerged within several prominent western noble courts. In their version, you soundly thrashed Lord Guy and revealed a long-standing, secret pact with Heaven. They are weaponizing this rumor to argue before the Council that Coleus has become too dangerous to operate under standard regional treaties."
"Their premise is entirely correct," Testarossa interjected smoothly from her station beside Loki's desk.
Veyron inclined his head slightly toward her. "The purported alliance with Heaven, however, is not."
"A minor technicality."
Shizue sat near the foot of the conference table, reading a translated human gazette with an increasingly unsettled expression. "It might be minor to us, Testarossa-san, but human readers don't possess the context to separate divine politics from demonic reality."
Moss raised a third finger, cutting cleanly through the debate.
"The third stream flows directly from western religious institutions. Several factions frame Feldway's sudden arrival as divine retribution against the Primordials. Others claim Lord Loki is a fallen celestial entity whom Heaven attempted to reclaim by force."
Ultima, lounging in a high-backed chair near the far wall, offered a terrifyingly sweet smile. "Should I go reclaim the printing presses, Lord Loki?"
"No," Testarossa and Shizue spoke in absolute, synchronized unison.
Ultima crossed her arms with a disappointed pout.
Moss lifted a fourth finger.
"The fourth narrative is being aggressively pushed by Coleus's political rivals across the border. They assert that when Feldway launched his assault, Lord Loki panicked and took cover behind Lord Guy."
Loki leaned back into his leather chair. "Honestly? That one lacks vision."
"It lacks imagination, but it possesses utility," Moss replied deadpan. "Cowardice is far easier for a common peasant to grasp than a complex dispute over dual-aspected soul ownership."
"And the fifth?"
Moss's visible eye narrowed under his hood.
"That Lord Loki personally orchestrated the entire event."
The temperature in the room instantly plunged.
The lighthearted air faded entirely.
Moss flicked his wrist, sending one of the floating parchment slips gliding across the room to land squarely before the King.
"The hostile version claims the initial duel with Lord Guy was merely a staging ground. A deliberate deployment of extreme magicule output designed to give the Heavenly Star Palace a lock on the Barren Lands. They claim Lord Loki intentionally opened the gate for Feldway and faked the subsequent struggle to cover his tracks."
"Who paid for that print run?" Testarossa asked, her voice dropping into a deadly register.
"Three independent pamphlet rings, two merchant-funded broadsheets, and a prominent bishop operating near our western frontier. The money was laundered through three layers of intermediaries tied directly to western noble houses that lost their trade monopolies when Coleus restructured its customs tariffs."
Veyron's eyes grew glacial. "So the fable isn't meant to report on the battle at all. It is designed to shatter domestic and regional confidence in our crown."
"Precisely."
Loki scanned the open broadsheets.
The claims were outright nonsensical. They contradicted each other from line to line, and anyone who had been within fifty leagues of the Barren Lands could have dismissed them out of hand.
Yet logic clearly wasn't driving the engine.
Cien pushed a framed ledger forward, his spectacles reflecting the low light.
"The market fallout is already manifesting, My Lord."
Loki blinked. "It's been less than eighteen hours."
"Panic moves far faster than supply wagons, Lord Loki."
Cien tapped the first column of figures.
"Multiple foreign merchant guilds have halted their caravans outside our western checkpoints under the belief that a holy crusade is imminent. Grain futures spiked six percent in the capital markets this morning. Metal refiners are hoarding iron ingots in anticipation of emergency military requisitions."
He flipped to a second sheet.
"Conversely, speculative investors are aggressively buying up Coleus sovereign bonds under the belief that Lord Loki successfully subdued Guy Crimson and secured an alliance with Heaven."
Lord Loki frowned. "Wait, isn't increased investment a good thing?"
"Only until those same speculators realize the rumor is false and dump their entire holdings simultaneously, crashing our currency."
Cien tapped the final document.
"Furthermore, two international merchant banks have doubled their insurance premiums on goods traveling through our domain. One listed 'high probability of demonic war' as the clause. The other listed 'risk of immediate divine annexation.'"
"'Divine annexation,'" Loki repeated slowly. "That's a new one."
"Human bureaucracy is remarkably creative when money is on the line, Lord Loki."
Lord Loki shoved the papers away. "Fine. We put out a direct statement clearing the air."
Veyron looked at him calmly. "You already did, My Lord."
"When?"
"Your brief remarks to the local observers before leaving the Barren Lands were recorded. Fragments of your quotes are currently embedded in at least four separate publications."
"I told them the match was suspended because Feldway barged in!"
"Indeed. One tabloid interpreted your word 'suspended' as an admission that you required outside intervention to avoid being destroyed by Lord Guy. Another interpreted 'postponed' as confirmation of a secret pact to divide the Western Nations between you."
Loki stared at him in disbelief.
"That isn't even close to what those words mean!"
"No, Lord Loki," Veyron replied softly. "It is what those reading them wanted them to mean."
The realization grated on Lord Loki far more than he cared to admit.
A battlefield was clean. On the field, an attack hit or it missed. Power countered power, injuries were visible, and the outcome stood absolute. Even the ridiculous unpredictability of Farce obeyed underlying rules once you understood the punchline.
This was entirely different.
The objective truth was right there, yet it held almost zero leverage over the narrative.
People were taking the exact same event and twisting it to fit whatever pre-existing fears or greedy motives they harbored. Merchants saw trade disruption and jacked up prices. Priests saw an opportunity to preach doom. Bitter noble houses saw a weapon to tear down Coleus's rise. And ordinary citizens were just terrified because their King had walked off to fight a dragon and returned with the sky burning behind him.
Facts don't matter when people are choosing what to believe.
He hated that concept.
"What is the sentiment among our own people?" Shizue asked, looking over at Moss.
Moss adjusted his cloak.
"The capital is deeply divided. A sizeable portion of the populace believes Lord Loki fought off both Lord Guy and the First Angel simultaneously. Others are convinced Heaven has marked Coleus for destruction. There are also lingering panics that the shockwave over the horizon signals the beginning of the end times."
"Is there civil unrest?" Testarossa asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Nothing organized yet. But the temples are overflowing, food hoarding has begun, and towns along the northern highway are actively asking local magistrates if evacuation orders are coming."
Shizue looked toward Loki, her expression firm. "That is the audience we need to address first. Our own citizens."
Testarossa turned to face her. "The primary objective of an official crown declaration must be to project absolute authority to foreign powers."
"It needs to offer clear, grounding answers to a terrified populace, Testarossa-san."
"We cannot reduce matters of Primordial sovereignty to soft, comforting platitudes."
"And we cannot draft an imperial decree as if every common baker in Coleus holds a seat on the Demon Lord Council!"
Veyron stepped forward, laying a blank sheet of heavy parchment on the center of the desk.
"This fundamental difference in perspective is precisely why I requested both of your inputs."
Testarossa crossed her gloved arms. "Coleus must not project an inch of defensiveness."
Shizue met her gaze without flinching. "Clarity isn't defensiveness, Testarossa-san."
"It becomes defensiveness the moment we start issuing formal explanations to foreign petty lords who possess zero right to question Lord Loki's decisions."
"The people aren't questioning his decisions! They're asking if their homes are going to be incinerated tomorrow!"
The room fell silent.
Loki looked between Testarossa and Shizue.
They were both entirely right.
Testarossa understood the cutthroat optics of international power. A statement that sounded too gentle or apologetic would be seized upon as weakness by every vultures' nest in the Western Nations.
Shizue understood the human heart. A cold, grandstanding display of raw arrogance written in dense political jargon would do nothing to calm a mother trying to feed her family in a panicked market.
"Draft it to address both," Loki commanded.
Veyron dipped his fountain pen into the inkwell. "Then we require three core components: the official status of the duel, the precise nature of the interruption, and Coleus's absolute stance on Feldway's claim."
"The duel was not a draw," Testarossa stated immediately.
Loki winced, holding his temple.
"Guy is going to blow a gasket if we release an official document using that word."
"Then we shall simply bypass it."
Veyron's pen scratched smoothly across the parchment.
"The scheduled combat between Lord Guy Crimson and Lord Loki Arashi was suspended by mutual agreement following an unprovoked external intrusion."
Shizue nodded slowly. "Direct and unambiguous."
Testarossa weighed the phrasing. "Acceptable. But add explicit clarification regarding victory."
Veyron added the next line.
"Neither participant declared victory nor conceded defeat."
"That sounds clumsy," Shizue noted.
"It is legal accuracy," Testarossa countered.
"It makes it sound like two stubborn children refusing to admit who lost."
Ultima giggled behind her hand. "To be fair, that is entirely accurate."
Loki pointedly ignored her.
"Change it to: 'Neither combatant claimed victory, and the contest remains unresolved.'"
Veyron adjusted the wording.
Cien looked up from his financial charts. "We must explicitly identify the external threat without triggering further panic over a celestial war."
"Name Feldway directly," Testarossa urged. "Vagueness only leaves room for our enemies to invent a menace that suits their agenda."
Shizue agreed. "Just ensure the context of his intrusion is clear."
Veyron's pen continued to glide.
"The contest was interrupted when Feldway, Leader of the Original Angels, intruded upon the battlefield and attempted to assert an unauthorized foreign claim over Lord Loki Arashi's person and soul."
Testarossa's smile broadened slightly. "Flawless."
"It's far too detached," Shizue argued.
"It is completely factual."
"A common farmer isn't going to digest 'unauthorized foreign claim over his person and soul'!"
Loki leaned over the desk, inspecting the text.
"Strike that last bit. Just write that Feldway tried to take me by force."
Veyron paused. "That is remarkably blunt, Lord Loki."
"Blunt works. People understand an attempted kidnapping."
Testarossa looked mildly displeased by the vulgar phrasing, but she conceded the point with a silent nod.
Veyron drafted the final paragraph.
"The Kingdom of Coleus categorically rejects any assertion by Heaven, foreign powers, or religious institutions claiming authority over Lord Loki Arashi. His soul, sovereignty, and domain remain exclusively his own."
Shizue leaned in. "Now add that Coleus stands secure and our government is operating without disruption."
Cien nodded in approval. "That single inclusion should immediately stabilize the domestic commodity markets."
Testarossa's eyes narrowed slightly. "It risks projecting an anxious posture."
"It projects stability, Testarossa-san!"
"It implies we fear our people doubt us."
"They do doubt the situation right now!"
Loki held up a hand, cutting off the escalating spark.
"Put it in."
Testarossa turned her gaze to him.
"We can project strength without pretending our citizens aren't terrified," Loki said quietly. "Tell them the borders are fully manned, the Cabinet is in session, and no evacuation orders exist."
Veyron penned the final lines, applied the royal wax, and set the heavy official seal down.
Within the hour, multiple copies were dispatched across the city and beyond.
Official royal couriers rode out to foreign embassies, trade syndicates, cathedral steps, and provincial capitals. Town criers read the formal proclamation in every major market square across Coleus. Scribes nailed stamped copies to the city gates.
For roughly three hours, the panic eased. Grain futures stopped their upward spiral, and the markets settled into a uneasy truce.
Then Moss slipped quietly back into Loki's study, holding a fresh armful of newly printed broadsheets.
Loki eyed the papers with profound suspicion.
"What now?"
"The official decree has been fully digested by the press, Lord Loki."
"And?"
Moss quietly laid the top sheet over the King's desk.
COLEUS OFFICIALLY CONFIRMS HEAVENLY ABDUCTION ATTEMPT
He dropped a second directly beside it.
GUY AND LOKI REFUSE TO DECLARE WINNER FOLLOWING SECRET STALEMATE TREATY
Then a third.
CROWN DENIAL RAISES SHADOWY QUESTIONS REGARDING KING'S ANGELIC TIES
Loki stared down at the fresh ink in utter disbelief.
"They literally took our official clarification and mutated it within three hours."
"Instantly, Lord Loki," Moss confirmed with deadpan precision.
Cien adjusted his spectacles, reviewing a fresh ticker slip. "Grain prices have officially stabilized, My Lord. However, domestic weapons sales have just doubled."
Veyron remained standing by the grand window, silently watching the bustling crowds gathered around the public notice board down in the courtyard.
"The statement was still entirely necessary, Lord Loki," Veyron observed calmly. "It provided our foreign allies with an official script to repeat, and it gave our citizens a firm line that their government is prepared to back."
"It didn't stop the rumors for a second."
"No official statement ever stops interpretation, My Lord."
Loki leaned back, looking down at the headline that declared his very denial as ultimate proof of his guilt.
When he fought Guy Crimson, he could shift his weapons, change his tactics, and bend the laws of reality to counter his opponent. When Feldway ambushed him, he could target the structural flaws of a celestial vessel and force Heaven to pull back.
There was no direct attack to parry here.
There was no single strike that could obliterate a lie without accidentally feeding it more life. No proclamation, no matter how carefully worded, could force a hundred thousand frightened merchants, scheming nobles, fanatical priests, and anxious citizens to perceive the exact same event in the exact same way.
The story had vanished out of his hands the second it left the battlefield.
Loki let his head fall back against his chair with a heavy sigh.
"So this is just another bloody battlefield, isn't it?"
Veyron turned from the window, inclining his head. "Indeed it is, Lord Loki."
"Can I punch anyone?"
---
Find early chapters on my patreon
[Patreon.com/tenten100?]