Following this exchange, the silver-haired elder finally laid bare the question he truly wished to ask. His eyes fixed onto the two young women, quietly evaluating every subtle flicker of emotion on their faces.
Jeanne and Talulah knew this was the core response he had been waiting for. After exchanging a brief glance, Jeanne signaled with her eyes that Talulah was best suited to deliver the answer.
"So long as it remains within our power and circumstances allow, my wish is naturally to extend a hand to all Tarans—and even to those Victorians struggling to survive," Talulah said, her voice laced with quiet regret and practical restraint. "However, given our current reach, expecting us to solve everything at once is simply unrealistic. All we can do is strive toward that end."
There was genuine sorrow in her tone. She truly longed to lift the weight off every suffering soul in this land, yet she understood the bitter reality of her limits.
Neither she nor Reunion had grown strong enough to rewrite the fate of an entire nation overnight. Moreover, every country governed its infected and downtrodden through vastly different means; a solution that proved effective in Ursus might fail entirely elsewhere, forcing them to start again from scratch.
For now, their efforts were limited to sending observers into troubled territories to assess the situation before figuring out how best to alter the status quo. Even that small step was an uphill battle.
"Indeed... who wouldn't want to save everyone if a clear path existed?" The Duke's voice resonated with surprising warmth, his sigh carrying a heavy weight of understanding. "Yet the cruelty of Terra leaves no room for such starry-eyed ideals. No matter how much blood is spilled, 'saving everyone' remains little more than a rallying cry, never a reality."
"Which is precisely why I cannot offer you a rigid guarantee," Talulah continued evenly. "How we treat the Tarans and Victorian infected moving forward will depend entirely on how the tide turns. But one thing is clear: expecting us to transport every single Taran to Chernogobor is out of the question."
She spoke with sober seriousness. She could guess why the Duke pressed so deeply into her stance on the Taran people; after all, the old soldier had spent years orchestrating moves from the shadows for their cause.
His methods were undeniably ruthless. He was perfectly content to stand by—or even nudge a situation over the edge—if the resulting bloodshed brought him closer to his grand strategic vision. Yet, among all the power brokers ruling Victoria today, he remained the sole figure of high authority who placed genuine weight on the survival of the Taran identity.
Without his silent backing and the operations of Dublinn, the Taran people might have seen minor ripples of change, but nothing capable of shifting their place on the grand stage.
"Then what is your intent?" Talulah asked, fixing her eyes on the aged Feline. "Do you mean to warn us away from Victorian affairs so you can wage your war for the Taran cause undisturbed?"
She searched his weathered features, trying to discern his true motives. Was this query a subtle threat warning Reunion to keep its hands off Victorian territory, or was he seeking a calculated partnership? She found it difficult to read his ultimate play.
Before setting foot on the vessel, she had assumed the Duke would never seek a direct meeting with her, even after her departure. Who could have guessed he would issue a formal invitation to welcome them aboard his flagship?
"As you said, exchanging grand words here accomplishes little," Wellington replied smoothly, neatly sidestepping her question to probe into another matter close to his heart. "Our actions will adapt as events unfold. First, I wish to know how you intend to settle those who leave with you. Building a life anew from nothing is no simple undertaking."
He seemed genuinely intrigued by Talulah's strategy. After all, uprooting a massive population of Tarans and transplanting them to a foreign mobile city was a monumental gamble.
What fascinated observers most was Chernogobor itself—a city where infected and uninfected lived side by side without systematic persecution.
To many across Terra who had only heard scattered rumors, such a setup sounded downright terrifying. Allowing infected to walk freely among healthy citizens defied all established logic, bordering on reckless madness. In their eyes, the city was a disaster waiting to happen, its residents living on borrowed time.
Only the Tarans—living in conditions barely a step above the infected themselves—were desperate enough to abandon their ancestral soil for a chance at building a future in such a place, even if it meant stepping into an uncertain tomorrow.
"They will find a life far better than what they endure here," Talulah stated calmly. "Even now, Chernogobor's reconstruction is progressing steadily. We have more than enough space to integrate them smoothly."
Though granular plans were still being refined, the overarching strategy was already locked in. Reunion was even prepared to assign the newcomers an entire city district to call their own.
They wouldn't even need to brainstorm a new name for the sector; naming it 'The Taran District' would offer the displaced families a small sense of belonging.
"If that is the case, then it is a welcome outcome," the old Feline nodded, a faint smile breaking across his weathered face—a rare look of quiet relief. It was clear he was pleased that these people had secured a genuine second chance.
The subtle shift in his expression caught Jeanne slightly off guard. She hadn't anticipated such a reaction, half-expecting the veteran commander to engage in a tense debate over the long-term governance of the Taran people.
"Do not look at me with such doubt," the Duke remarked, catching her subtle surprise with a gentle shake of his head. "At the end of the day, I too am a Taran. If someone offers a viable path forward for my people, why shouldn't I explore every avenue for new opportunities?"
"I had assumed you summoned us aboard because my actions disrupted your plans," Talulah admitted with a light shrug, laying her previous suspicions out in the open. "I thought you were going to tell us to stop meddling in your affairs."
She re-evaluated the old man sitting across from her. It seemed he had extended the invitation out of genuine concern for the outcome of the migration.
"Neither of you can rewrite the grand framework of this nation," Wellington stated bluntly. "Victoria's decay is not something a Saintess from Laterano or a lone Draco can fix overnight. However... your presence will ensure fewer Tarans bleed out in the dirt, and for that alone, I am content."
Jeanne let out a quiet breath of relief. Though she knew the Duke wouldn't foolishly launch an ambush inside his own tea quarters, hearing his intentions brought a welcome sense of clarity.
As for changing Victoria? Reunion was still working to stabilize its footing in Ursus. Taking on an empire as deeply entrenched as Victoria was far beyond their current reach; her place remained back in the north.
"If you two are open to the idea, I believe there is room for a mutually beneficial arrangement," the Duke suggested smoothly. "I understand your city houses a vast industrial network left behind by Ursus. Between commerce and the future of the Taran people, I see ample grounds for us to do business."
The proposal took both women by surprise. To think the Duke of Iron had staged such a grand reception merely to lay the groundwork for a trade agreement!
Jeanne and Talulah exchanged a quick look, finding the unexpected turn of events quite novel.
"Then let us hear the details," Talulah replied, setting her teacup down. "If the terms are fair, we certainly won't turn down a profitable partnership."
Though their past interactions with his network had been far from smooth, Wellington remained one of the most formidable high dukes in Victoria. If a solid business opportunity was on the table, neither woman saw any reason to turn it away.