“Forgive me, my leader.”

  “Good. Now, where is that orc settlement?” I repeat.

  “Do you have a map of the area?”

  I shake my head and look at Ronan and Vincent.

  “I could get one for this part of the kingdom—the Eastwatch marquisate—but I’d have to go to the palace first,” my betrothed tells me.

  My betrothed...

  I still haven’t quite gotten used to it—being officially engaged to the man I want to marry, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Because if, by some chance, I ever returned to Earth, I know I’d do the impossible to come back here again, with my parents and Beatrice if they wanted. I would come back. In this world I feel far more alive and happier than in the one I was born in.

  “And you, Ronan? Maybe you could draw it?” I ask, pulling myself of my pink, hormone-filled cloud.

  “Yes. Using the images my birds send me, I can sketch something approximate. Totem, can you bring something to draw with?”

  The totem, who’s near us listening, nods and gets up to tell something to one of the goblins around the cave. A few minutes later, two goblins return carrying a log cut lengthwise in half. That is, its section isn’t circular but rectangular. It’s about a meter long by a bit more than half a meter wide. The wood is still green, the grain clearly visible, and it smells freshly cut. The edges are irregular; there are splinters they haven’t removed or sanded, and also bark remnants on the sides.

  The goblins rest it on the ground in front of Ronan, hand him a bone with a blunt tip, and withdraw.

  I don’t know why I’d been expecting hides and a bowl of animal blood.

  Until we return to the academy and transfer this to parchment, this will do just fine.

  Ronan brings the bone to the log and begins pressing while talking, sinking into the wood and thus engraving lines.

  “We are here,” he says, “in these caves. These are the mountains, which are part of the Jagged Peaks. This is the recently conquered orc settlement. Here, the forest. And here, Clearhaven village.”

  He pauses briefly.

  “Far underground, beneath the mountains, lies the lair of the giant ants.”

  Then he points southeast of the goblin cave.

  “Around here, the forest changes. The trees grow older—taller trunks, canopies so dense they barely let sunlight through. This was no longer the great bear’s territory; it belongs to the wolves. Their domain reaches a river deep enough to mark a clear boundary. On the other side, there’s another remote human village, with its own military detachment, much like Clearhaven.”

  He pauses again, then gestures westward.

  “Here, the forest continues until it thins and gives way to prairies bordering farmland—still within the marquisate. There’s also a human mining village to the west, near the mountains, where iron and other minerals are extracted; but it’s very far from here.”

  “Yes,” Vincent confirms. “The Eastwatch marquisate encompasses much of the land along the Jagged Peaks, bordering the neighboring kingdom of Daertyle. There’s extensive forest, but also farmland. Its economy is based on three mining villages, hunting, logging—which is followed by replanting—and agriculture. Mining, however, accounts for about eighty percent of its total production.”

  I can tell my love has studied his kingdom thoroughly. I love listening to him talk.

  “Interesting…” Ronan says. “As for my winged friends, none of them have located any other orc settlement. Though they have found the area where the alpha wolf must live, because whenever anyone gets too close, they eliminate them.”

  For a moment, I think, oh, poor little bird. But then I remember Ronan doesn’t even need a bone fragment or piece of its body to bring it back if he summons it.

  “Thank you very much, Ronan. Iron Fist, can you mark where that orc settlement is?”

  Although when he joined us the system showed his name as Rankunk III, I prefer, like with the totem, to call him by his title. That’s what I imagine the orcs call him.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Of course, my leader. The orc village is around here.” He points toward the wolf territory, a bit farther away. Ronan lends him the bone so he can make a mark: a crude X. “It’s been a few years since I knew anything about them, but they were fewer than us. They had…” he hesitates, “…like several handfuls fewer warriors.”

  “Handfuls?” I ask, somewhat confused.

  “Handfuls,” he repeats while opening and closing both hands, as if indicating a quantity that’s obvious to him.

  Well, maybe orcs aren’t as literate as my goblins and don’t know how to count (because my goblins do know, right?). Let’s be safe: they had fewer than two hundred warriors, maybe twenty or thirty fewer. And as far as I know, orcs aren’t like goblins—their pregnancies are more similar to humans in time, same for the childhood and growth of their young. Nothing like goblins. So in a few years, that village shouldn’t have grown much.

  Besides, since they lost troops with the attack on Clearhaven... how many could there be now? A hundred? More? Less?

  “So we go and finish off the enemies?” Vincent asks. “If you want, I can notify my parents’ army and have them handle it.”

  “Look, I understand that exterminating dungeon creatures is part of their duty, whether the break happened a long time ago or more recently. But they’re experience points for us and for our goblins and orcs. Besides, if we report the orc settlement to them, they might start patrolling more thoroughly and locate us.”

  Ronan claps. It’s so unusual for him that both Vincent and I stare at him.

  “Great, my lady. So you are going to send orcs to kill other orcs? Including children, babies, and pregnant women? You are progressing, my lady: that is the spirit of a dark queen!” Ronan comments completely expressionless, then stands and walks toward one of the small goblin children running around the cave.

  This is Convergence’s main cavern, where social life happens. It hasn’t stopped just because we’re here in a meeting.

  Then Ronan crouches, gently lifts the child, and brings him over to us. I’m amazed watching him do it, but the message is clear.

  While the child plays with a little bone mouse that comes out of a sleeve of my necromancer friend’s tunic, my perspective shifts completely.

  Yes, humans exterminate dungeon creatures. Yes, even if they escaped from it centuries ago and regained their free will and volition. And hey, in an orc settlement there are small children, like this one. I have to be a very dark queen, a very demon queen, to cheerfully talk about murdering children and babies.

  Oh.

  He just told me that like nothing, like praising me. But what he’s trying to do is clear. And he’s succeeded.

  Damn.

  No, we’re not going to kill them. But we have to eliminate the threat so they don’t attack Clearhaven again. And sending Alverdan’s army troops is out of the question since they’d exterminate them all, babies included.

  Gump is around here, sitting several meters away and eavesdropping. I glare at him.

  This isn’t his fault, but it started when I found him and he gave me those puppy eyes. Or was it when I saved the pup?

  I look at Ronan again and sigh.

  By the way, Vincent has been watching me with concern since he heard “dark queen”.

  Without taking my eyes off the necromancer, who somehow seems to have more heart than I do, I reach out and place my hand on the back of my beloved’s.

  “I think the only possible solution is to conquer them. Let the warriors who want to fight die, but let’s ensure the loyalty of their non-combatants.”

  Ronan suddenly smiles, like when he’s really happy about something, closing a fist and bringing his elbow to his side in a victory gesture.

  From where he stands, Vincent can’t see the gesture—I can.

  This guy is really loosening up...

  (But did I really just see him do something like that? I can’t be imagining it, can I?)

  “Do we do the dragon scene again, my lady?”

  “No, if they want to fight, let them fight. Besides, innocent blood has been spilled. Maybe some of the village survivors want to go get revenge. I... I know Mary would say we have to forgive, and she’d be horrified at something like revenge, but if I put myself in the place of those who’ve lost loved ones... isn’t it the least we can do to give them a choice? And by the way, you told me that in principle you combed the area to capture those who might try to escape, but there’s a chance some succeeded. It’s very likely they’re waiting for us, ready to defend themselves and, if they can, finish us off.”

  The iron fist says nothing. He just listens, trying to keep his face expressionless. But he’s not very successful. It seems what excites him most is the idea of fighting and completely destroying the other settlement. Bloodthirsty. Very bloodthirsty.

  “Bianca,” Vincent says, turning his hand to intertwine his fingers with mine, “I’m not sure. What Ronan said has raised doubts for me. I mean, I used to think it was simple: you can’t wage war with humans, and if creatures are detected in the kingdom, they’re exterminated. Now, however, you’ve shown me that goblins are more like us than I ever imagine—look at Ronan playing with the little one...”

  Yes. I won’t deny it: here Ronan made a masterful move to show that these creatures are no longer controlled by a dungeon core.

  “However,” he continues, “I was taught that centuries ago, these same creatures served under a demon king, creating huge armies and threatening to exterminate human life. They attacked our cities and villages without mercy, murdering, raping, and massacring. And since now I know what I know, I don’t like the idea of killing innocent children—nor do I like the idea of you gaining more and more power, a greater burden. What if, once you have a certain number of vassals, the system begins to condition you or hijack your will and start a new war?”

  Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.

  “Well, I still feel like myself… And remember, I have the ring.”

  “What if it’s something subtle? That new magical affinity... what if you start enjoying power too much?”

  Oh.

  I open my mouth, then close it again.

  I remember the cultists. Yeah, I did kind of like savoring the power…

  “My lady, you can rest easy. If that happened, I kill the last vassals and problem solved. You would be yourself again.”