Having listened to Jeanne and Talulah's recount of the meeting, Kal'tsit deduced the true motive behind the Duke's invitation. By all accounts, the meeting had yielded a remarkably favorable outcome.
In Talulah, the old soldier had finally found someone capable of easing his strategic burdens. Unlike Dublinn—who aimed to hurl the Taran people straight into the meat grinder of a war with Victoria—Talulah's presence guaranteed these displaced souls a genuine haven to build a life.
"No matter how you look at it, this is a winning proposition for both sides," Talulah said, clearly pleased with the outcome. "We secured the backing of a high duke of Victoria, and in exchange, his people gain a safe territory to rebuild."
"That appears to be the case," Kal'tsit replied, contemplating the broader political chess board. "It seems conditions within the Duke's own domain are far from stable. Taking in such a massive influx of Taran refugees was rapidly turning into a double-edged sword for him."
Though the fiery, radical Tarans could easily be shaped into frontline soldiers for his cause, there were many others the Duke secretly wished to unload—civilians who refused to pick up weapons, the elderly, and the infected. Kal'tsit entertained no illusions that the Duke of Iron possessed the soft-hearted benevolence to feed non-combatants out of sheer charity.
Without Talulah and Jeanne stepping in to offer an alternative, those deemed useless by his war effort likely would have ended up consumed as raw material for Eblana's dark arts.
Now, however, the old man had found a far cleaner way out—one that preserved his noble standing and secured his legacy without unnecessary bloodshed.
"At the end of the day, age has caught up with him. He is merely an old man nearing his final rest," Kal'tsit muttered under her breath, her gaze drifting toward the distant flagship.
The offhand remark caught Jeanne completely off guard. She blinked in astonishment, staring at Kal'tsit with wide eyes. Had she truly just heard those words come out of Kal'tsit's mouth, or were her ears playing tricks on her?
Before Jeanne could ask, Kal'tsit turned away, leaving the topic behind. Jeanne gave a light shrug and offered a fleeting glance back at the barely visible iron fortress on the horizon.
"Well, as long as we made it back in one piece," Jeanne said, stretching her arms above her head. Truth be told, she hadn't let her guard down for a single second throughout the entire encounter.
If she had truly felt safe, Fafnir wouldn't still be circling high in the sky aboard another wyvern, keeping a watchful eye on every movement of the Victorian warship from the clouds.
Thinking of the little girl hovering alone in the cold sky made Jeanne's heart ache slightly. Fafnir must have been utterly miserable up there.
I'll make sure to get her an extra large dinner tonight, Jeanne thought to herself. Though I'd better keep an eye on her, or she'll eat through Rhodes Island's entire food stock before morning.
"How long until we are entirely out of that flagship's firing range?" Talulah asked, watching the distant silhouette fade into the evening haze.
It wasn't that she feared the old commander would double-cross them, but standing within range of heavy naval artillery made anyone feel uneasy. It felt as though those massive gun barrels were locked onto their position every second they remained nearby.
"If they maintain their current course, we will be at a completely safe distance in roughly ten minutes," Kal'tsit answered calmly. "Even now, we are sitting at the absolute edge of their maximum range. At this distance, Rhodes Island could easily evade any incoming salvo, so breathe easy."
Talulah let out a quiet sigh of relief, her expression softening as she watched the distant warship slowly turn its course away.
"Finally... it's over. I just hope nothing else goes wrong on our journey back," Talulah remarked, before a sudden thought struck her. She turned toward Jeanne, her eyes narrowing with a flash of playful malice. "Speaking of which... should I gag Jeanne right now to make sure her mouth doesn't jinx us again before we reach Chernogobog?"
Remembering Jeanne's terrifying knack for uttering predictions that somehow always came true, Talulah decided that keeping her friend quiet until they reached home was a matter of vital security.
Jeanne felt a sudden, icy shiver run down her spine. She spun around, sensing a hostile gaze, but saw no obvious threat nearby.
Amiya watched Jeanne's sudden alertness with confusion. Why had Jeanne gone completely rigid and started scanning the surroundings? Was someone attempting an attack on Rhodes Island?
Relying on her deep trust in Jeanne's instincts, Amiya immediately straightened up and searched the skies above.
Right on cue, a tiny black streak plummeted from the clouds like a miniature cannonball, diving straight toward Jeanne at breakneck speed!
Amiya opened her mouth to yell a warning, but the black shadow was already upon them. At the absolute last moment, the falling projectile miraculously slowed down, coming to a sudden halt in mid-air.
As the wind settled, Amiya finally saw who it was.
It was Fafnir in her human form. She landed on the deck with a stormy look on her face, puffing her cheeks out in sheer irritation as she stared up at Jeanne.
To make her displeasure known, the little girl raised her small fist and began pummeling Jeanne's stomach. She had originally aimed for Jeanne's chest, but her tiny stature forced her to settle for a lower target.
Naturally, she pulled her punches. The child had no actual desire to hurt Jeanne; this was merely her childish way of throwing a tantrum after being left behind.
Jeanne chuckled softly, sweeping the young child into a warm hug. She felt the small dragon tail thumping rhythmically against her waist—a silent rant recounting just how much frustration the poor girl had endured flying around in the sky all day by herself!
"Alright, alright, I know you had a tough time out there," Jeanne smiled warmly, stroking the child's head as she looked into her pouting face. "I apologize, okay?"
Given how much the dragon usually loved soaring through the sky, Jeanne hadn't expected her to react with such intense drama this time.
"I was flying up there for hours! And there wasn't a single soul to talk to!" Fafnir complained, her voice full of righteous indignation. "All I had for company was that mindless dragon who wouldn't stop shaking the entire time!"
The poor child had suffered through a miserable ride. Ever since Fafnir climbed onto the wyvern's back, the poor beast had trembled in pure terror under her terrifying dragon presence. The entire flight had felt like riding a broken carriage over a cobblestone road—even if her body could handle the bumps, her patience had completely worn out.
"That's because the poor beast was terrified of you, silly girl!" Jeanne cooed, rubbing her hair affectionately.
Standing nearby, Talulah watched the scene unfold with an utterly bewildered expression. Seeing a child-sized version of herself clinging to Jeanne's chest and whining for comfort felt deeply surreal, almost as if she were looking at a bizarre, alternate version of herself being held in Jeanne's arms.
"Come on, you've suffered enough today," Jeanne said, picking up the small child like a cat by the scruff of her neck. "Let's get you something to eat!"
With that, Jeanne turned and marched straight toward the Rhodes Island cafeteria.
Amiya immediately fell into step beside them, chatting cheerfully with Jeanne while watching the little girl squirm in her arms.
Suddenly, Amiya's phone buzzed with a quick text from Kal'tsit:
Keep an eye on Jeanne and Fafnir. Under no circumstances are you to let them overeat.
Ever since the last time Fafnir came dangerously close to clearing out the ship's food stockpiles in one sitting, Kal'tsit had established strict rationing protocols for the little girl's meals.
With a massive group of Taran refugees now relying on Rhodes Island's logistical network, allowing Fafnir to eat to her heart's content could trigger a total supply crisis.
Amiya clutched her phone tightly, puffing out her chest with fierce determination.
No matter what happened today, she would stand her ground. In Doctor Kal'tsit's place, she would defend Rhodes Island's rice supply with her life!