Melina hesitated, her face unreadable. "It's not quite that," she said slowly. "I'm just not used to it."
"You'll adapt." Throne's voice held quiet certainty. He moved deliberately, always one step at a time. Their journey together, their encounters with the Tarnished—it had all kindled something in her. A spark catching dry wood.
If he'd pushed too hard too soon, she'd have recoiled. He knew that much.
"I need to report to Ranni today," he said. "Stay at the Sorcerer's Tower. It's not far—you'll be fine here, right?"
"No problem." Melina nodded, her gaze following him as he left, one hand pressed to his temple.
The tower fell silent. She drifted back into thought. What had he wanted her to feel? She wasn't sure, but the memory of last night's chaos brought a faint flush to her pale cheeks. At least she hadn't hated it.
"I overdid it yesterday," Throne muttered, crossing the lawn. "Those bastards can drink."
The grounds were well-kept now, unlike the wild tangle of a decade ago. Caria had no shortage of hands, and restoring their princess's residence was a simple task.
Throne felt like the "best employee"—paid to loaf around. He knew there was a debriefing, yet he'd stayed up drinking with his comrades.
Smack, smack.
He slapped his cheeks lightly, shaking off the haze.
He grinned at the Glintstone Dragon. Adula glared, turning her head away sharply. Anyone else, and she'd have ripped them apart. But when she'd complained to Her Highness, she'd been scolded instead. Now she seethed.
I followed Her Highness first. This favoritism is unbearable. If he becomes the Carian Consort, he might even ride me one day...
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Throne froze, startled. The dragon was slamming its head against the ground. Madness.
"I only killed one dragon," he muttered. "Is that worth such a grudge?"
He sighed, remembering the tales of dragon maidens. Only Ancient Dragons could take human form; Adula was bound to her scaly frame. Otherwise, a conversation might have cleared the air.
He stepped past her and onto the elevator.
At the top of the tower, Ranni wasn't perched on her high-backed chair as usual. The Lunar Princess stood by the window, watching the farmers below, murmuring softly.
Throne waited politely outside.
After a few minutes, he entered. "Ranni, who are you talking to?"
The familiarity caught her off guard. She took a moment to recover, as though an invisible barrier had vanished. Still, she kept her composure.
"I am pacifying Blaidd."
"Him? He didn't get lost again, did he?"
"That's not it. I just told him not to rush back." Ranni sat on the windowsill, finally a head taller than Throne. "To avoid him causing you trouble."
"Then please, by all means, have him continue his mission." Throne thanked her quickly. Blaidd was impulsive, always acting before thinking.
Ranni glanced at him, her gaze sharp, cunning. It sent a chill down his spine.
"Why don't we discuss business?"
"How do you know I asked you here to talk about business?"
"What else could it be? You were bored and wanted to chat with me? I wouldn't object."
Who wanted to chat with him? Ranni abandoned her original purpose—continuing that line of conversation would only humiliate herself. She turned away slowly.
The high chair loomed before her. Sitting under his gaze felt improper. She leaned against the window instead, sunlight washing over her.
"I have questions. How did you know about Astel?"
Throne relaxed into his seat. "Nokstella's murals. The enemy's movements. Simple deduction."
Simple? Ranni didn't understand how his mind worked, but she pressed on.
"You were hunted by the Death Hunter. Same reason you killed Godrick but never visited the Divine Tower?"
Throne stared. Nodded once. "Yes."
The demigod's eyes widened. No explanation needed. That single word said everything.
"So that's it. No wonder you and the Erdtree are at odds—no, you're an enemy to every god in The Lands Between."
Had they not spent so much time together, she'd have drawn her blade already. This power terrified her. Even the Divine Tower could be bypassed. But if that were true—
"Where's your limit?"
"I haven't found it yet."
Throne smiled as her shock twisted into exhilaration. One shouldn't take contracts without proper tools. The Greater Will demanded more than The Lands Between could offer. Ranni sought answers among the stars, yet here—this possibility—had been before her all along.
"Throne, I'm starting to regret sending you on missions."
"Don't. Turning possibility into certainty requires blood."
He knew his limits. Needed stronger prey. The unspoken hung clear between them. Ranni nodded, shedding the last of her hesitation.
Some burdens became opportunities. Some abandonments demanded defiance. He'd see this through.
"Let me be clear—if you fail, I'll betray you."
Killing the Two Fingers meant her freedom. His? Impossible.
"My problem. Why blame you?"
No turning back now. No fairytale ending where some Tarnished slays monsters, claims a throne, and absconds with Ranni. He faced not decaying demigods but the full might of a system.
Useless to dwell on it. She strode to the vast map, pressing a hand against parchment.
"You've been to Nokstella. You must have a plan."
"The Erdtree still stands strong, but its reign is rotten." Throne joined her, shoulders nearly touching. "Caria has gathered power. We're not their equal—yet—but we're ready for the stage."
"Undercurrents stir beneath The Lands Between. The defeated have been gathering strength. When the time comes, they'll overturn everything."
"The Golden Army lies shattered. Of the lords, only Morgott holds firm—and he hides a fatal secret. The ancient losers? The Kindred of Rot. The Primeval Sorcerers. Others."
Ranni didn't speak, only watching the man's focused profile.
His mind worked with precision, his actions carried weight, and his presence radiated a commanding aura that seemed to dominate the heroes of The Lands Between. She'd encountered countless cold warriors and calm strategists, but he stood alone, a singular force who fused both into one.
"Are you listening?" Throne had been speaking for what felt like hours, his voice hoarse, only to find Ranni lost in thought.
"I'm listening." Ranni snapped back to attention, offering no explanation, and cut straight to the point. "You're proposing an alliance to confront the Erdtree?"
"Exactly. Like the Nox. They'll prove useful eventually. The only concern is their strength—what happens once the Golden Order falls?" Throne didn't soften his words when it came to strategy.
"Allies need to be chosen carefully. Take the Kindred of Rot, for instance—who would willingly align with such abominations? And the dragons—their power is overwhelming."
Neither Throne nor Ranni wanted The Lands Between shackled by the Order, but chaos wasn't an acceptable alternative. If it came to that, Throne might as well embrace madness.
They aimed to use The Lands Between as a foundation, not to restore the Ancient Dragons' lost glory.
"This balance is delicate, and The Lands Between holds too many secrets—some even unknown to you." Ranni leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The eras before the Erdtree stretch far back. Even I can't say how many remnants of the Hundred Tribes remain."
"That's my task. I'll take my time uncovering them." Throne's confidence was unshakable; in this, he knew far more than Ranni.
"Very well. I'll leave the judgment to you. At the very least, the Nox can be utilized." Ranni agreed in principle, her hand rising decisively. "Caria will join the alliance. You'll oversee the plan, and everyone—including War Counselor Iji—will cooperate."
Did I just sign up for a mountain of trouble? Throne pressed his lips together. But who in their right mind talks big without acting? He chuckled.
"Aren't you going to grant me some official title?"
"How about a formal Carian Knight?"
"That rank feels a bit low. There are plenty of Carian Knights."
"Then what do you want?" Ranni shot him a sharp look. A thought flashed through her mind—a position high enough—but she shook her head vigorously. No. Absolutely not. What's wrong with me? It's just a joke.
Throne stared at her, alarmed, wondering if Adula's madness was contagious. But after a moment, he understood. There was indeed a title that suited him perfectly—the legendary Carian Consort.
"Your Highness, you wouldn't be thinking of..."
Before he could finish, Ranni glared at him, biting her lip. "No! Don't even consider it!"
Throne had nudged her toward the possibility, gently pushing from behind, revealing his true intentions only when the timing was right. To do this wasn't merely the role of a subordinate. It was a leap into Ranni's trust, reaching a level no one else could claim.
But his request was too abrupt, triggering her instinctive defense of dignity.
"I was joking." Throne laughed, feeling the once-perfect strategy now awkward. "Power matters more than titles. Honestly, I prefer things as they are."
As long as he wielded Radagon's strength, he could make offers no one could refuse. For those who didn't understand diplomacy, he'd simply turn them into fertilizer. But he wasn't strong enough yet. He needed to remain in the shadow of the Dark Moon, growing quietly.
Ranni watched him suspiciously, her thoughts a tangled mess.
She winced at her own lack of composure today. "Don't joke like that again."
"Understood." Throne nodded, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
"If it comes to that, I'll tell you. But don't overthink it. I just need one person—one—to go to the stars with me. Someone to lean on." Ranni stressed the word 'one,' leaving no room for ambiguity.
She didn't wait for Throne's response. "Speaking of which, I suppose this counts as officially declaring war on Them."
She used 'I,' not Caria. Throne understood the distinction.
"Before they figure out we're the ones pulling the strings, it's better to delay. The longer we wait, the more advantage we gain."
Ranni didn't argue. She had no illusions about morality, no desire to play the saint. But she warned, "Don't underestimate their wisdom. Some things can't stay hidden forever—like the Nox."
"I never underestimate anyone. Knowing something and acting on it are two different problems." Throne smirked. If Melina had been there, she would've taken a step back.
Ranni didn't mind his conspiratorial air. If anything, it intrigued her. "Are you planning to exploit the factional conflicts within the Erdtree?"
"Yes, I've studied it. The Golden Order should have four forces: Queen Marika, the Elden Lord, the Two Fingers, and the Erdtree itself. But the throne's empty, the Queen's vanished, and it's just the Two Fingers dealing with us. They can't mobilize much power."
"The Four Pillars of Gold theory? Interesting." A glint of curiosity flashed in Ranni's eyes. The Erdtree was leaderless. If the Two Fingers were truly all-powerful, she'd have died when she abandoned the Empyrean. Why had they stayed in the Roundtable Hold for so long?
"So the key is Morgott? The lord who inherited Leyndell and holds a portion of the Elden Lord's power?"
Throne exhaled, relieved. Talking to someone sharp was refreshing. If it had been that fool, he'd have wasted his breath.
"Exactly. Morgott's the key to maintaining order. I've studied him. He's rigid—the Two Fingers can influence him, but they can't command him."
He'd been piecing this together since he first met the Tarnished.
If the Two Fingers had that much sway, the Tarnished wouldn't have been hunted to extinction for provoking Morgott. The man was practically paranoid.
"We can't use Caria to rescue the Eternal City. That would overturn the Golden Order, and Morgott would intervene." A sly grin spread across Throne's face.
"Reduce enemies, increase allies—that's the core of strategy. Control Liurnia within the Golden Order's framework and indirectly aid the Nox. Morgott wants to maintain order? Let's help him."
Ranni caught on immediately. After a pause, she proposed, "My mother is still the ruler of Liurnia and the head of Raya Lucaria Academy. You want to start there?"
"Yes. For example, issue a small order in Her Majesty Rennala's name."
"What order?"
"Select a new head for the Lazuli Classroom—or create a new one. Thops is perfect. His force field alone is worth it."
"Then the new head must meet the Dean. We will send troops as escorts. If Raya Lucaria Academy doesn't open its doors, they're rebels. We're suppressing rebellion to uphold the order King Radagon established. Morgott should support that."
"Unless he denies King Radagon—which would deny his own existence."
Ranni and Throne exchanged knowing smiles.
The sorcerers never stood a chance. One had orchestrated the Night of the Black Knives—the other had strung Godrick along like a puppet before snapping the threads. What hope did mere scholars have against them?
Rennala was their last desperate play, a dormant weapon no one dared touch. Now she would wake.
Raya Lucaria Academy would inevitably not open its doors, and even less likely would they let Rennala step into the light. This defeat was carved into fate's bones.