^^ Aric's Dagger ^^

— Arcata, Royal Castle, Grand Hall —

"So, to be clear, you're telling me that this Dungeon Merchant... can Enchant Items? Instantly? You saw this with your own eyes?" The Emperor stared down at a long Mithril Staff, a weapon that had been in his hands less than three days ago, and most certainly did not Glow, at that time.

The Grand Sage nodded sternly, placing a heavy book in front of his nephew as well. "And much, much more."

The Emperor barely glanced at the book, electing to continue examining the staff. "What, a skill book? That's not that-"

The Grand Sage's hand slammed the books cover with a thunderous sound, getting his nephew's attention and nearly growling his point at the much-younger man. "That, nephew, is a Skill Book for a magic that I have never seen, heard of, studied, or even conceived the existence of!!! It is proof that Lady Anitra The Dungeon Master is in command of a veritable arsenal of Magic that no country, city, or Mage in this whole world has ever so much as dreamed of, and as such has no defenses for!!!"

"Oh... good, then, we can use that-"

"THAT INCLUDES US, YOU SHALLOW, IDIOTIC, MUSCLE-BOUND, FROG-BRAINED FOOL OF A CHILD!!!"

At the enraged shouting of a Demigod in the Emperor's chambers, the guards outside reacted and opened the doors, spears and shields raised defensively, but they were waved out by the Emperor swiftly, and so they closed the door immediately. In the silence, the Emperor took a deep breath, thinking carefully about what had been brought to his attention, then frowned. "Do you think she's a Threat?"

The elderly Sage relaxed slowly, seeing his point had begun to get across to the younger man. "I think she is a liability, if she is taken by another kingdom. I think if she were to wish it and the situation was right, she could kill me, much less anyone else in this city. I think that she is capable of perfectly controlling her emotions, and that makes her dangerous. I think that if she were to be made into the enemy of this state, we wouldn't have to worry about the shame of being called the Fallen Mageocracy, because she could burn our bodies to ash and build a new, stronger Mageocracy on top of our bones. I think... she is someone best made into an Ally. Do I think she is a threat? Of course I do!"

The Emperor covered his face slowly, sighing heavily and activating all of his various calmness and calculation Skills to cope with the shock. "So... I need to treat her like a Demigod who's chosen to settle in our City."

"That seems wise, yes. And with her creating a Guild of her own, offering her a place in yours would be more of an insult than a compliment."

The younger man sighed again, then chuckled as a thought occurred to him. "They say that the more you Sigh, the older you get... I guess I'll be older than you someday soon, if this girl keeps up with her... surprising nature."

The Sage laughed heartily, patting his nephew's armored back companionably. "Don't worry, old age isn't that bad! You just get a little more forgetful and less patient, that's all that awaits us Demigods in our old age!"

"I hope so... Scribe!" The door to the scribe's office opened, revealing the Royal Scribe instantly. "Make the Entertainment District a unique Territory and grant it to Anitra the Dungeon Master as her Territory as a Duchess. Its taxes and governance will be her concern. Send her a Scribe with the appropriate skills and lack of connections to the Nobility or Royal Family, as well as the required Military Personnel to act as her Noble House's Bannermen. No one above Tier Three, however, other than the Scribe, who should be the very best you can find. Their pay will be handled by the crown, for now. Instruct the guards of that district that they may either relocate and maintain the districts bordering it, or become an employee of the Duchess, wherein their pay and discipline will become her responsibility. One Tier Four Commander will be given to her for her Bannerman, and one Tier Four Guardsman for her Head Guard, as well. Any questions?"

"Only one, your majesty; what am I to put down as the reason for this change, in the Royal Decree?"

"... our sorrow for the death of Lady Anitra the Storm, should suffice as public excuse, but in the Royal Archive and the rumor mill both there will be the truth of the matter, which is that Lady Anitra the Dungeon Master is too dangerous and valuable to be treated as anything less than a Demigod. To attack her is to literally threaten the empire's future resurgence, and as such any assailant we catch will be utterly crushed, searched out root and stem, with a full inquisition into their every connection and asset. That should do for a reason, as well as draw out any enemies of our state with an irresistible Bait... do your best to suppress any news of the fates of those who attack her, actually, so more will reveal themselves like cockroaches with the light turned off... I'm sure she wouldn't mind me using her for a bit of spring cleaning."

The Scribe bowed her head cordially, then closed the door to her office, setting off to work immediately with a long list of orders to make and a Royal Decree to write and proofread.

"What do you think? Will she dislike my methods?"

The Sage shrugged, eying the skill-book on the table thoughtfully. "I think... that she will take whatever fodder we give her, chew them up, spit them out for us to clean up, and then demand payment for acting as a cleaning service."

"Ha! And I will gladly do so! How much do you think a Traitor's head goes for, Uncle? A Platinum Coin?" The Emperor cackled at the thought, then picked up the staff on the table, examining it closer once more until he found a small magic circle, engraved into the head under the crystal ball. "Anyway... this is the new Enchantment? What are its effects?"

"As far as I can tell, the previous staff gave a 30% increase in Mana Regeneration Rates. It now offers a 100% increase in regeneration, and has a spell called 'Fireball' enchanted within it. The spell can be cast as many times as you have mana to cast it, or you can use the mana stored within the item itself; even someone without a Mana Core could use this weapon."

The blonde bearded man leaned back in his seat slowly, eying the staff with a new thought brewing behind his eyes. "You mean... even Soldiers without the Blessed By Mana Skill... could use Enchanted Items?"

"The ones enchanted in this way, yes. It's clearly a new enchanting method, one I cannot yet fathom. I've already sent a few of our Bannermen through the dungeon disguised as Adventurers to upgrade their weapons. The materials are rather simple, just mana crystals, metal matching the weapon you're enchanting, and the weapon itself. Also interesting, apparently you can attach Skill Books to these enchantments, though I did not have any on me at the time to test this with."

"Any skill book? Wouldn't that class-block each weapon?"

The Sage gestured at the staff in the Emperor's hands. "Considering the one you're holding has a Magical Skill attached and you can use it just fine, I'd assume no."

"... that is a terrifying thought... warriors with a rogue skill, and mages with warrior skills; what fresh chaos has Anitra The Dungeon Master wrought upon our city?"

"Your Majesty!!! You need to send someone to the Dungeon Guild Hall!!! Lady Parthia is about to challenge Lady Anitra to a duel!!!"

While both men stared at the young boy who was screaming into the room, the Scribe entered at a far more respectful pace, before slapping the back of her grandson's head gently to make him bow in apology. "I will endeavor to educate this young messenger as to the severity of the offense he has given, your majesty... but I do require your permission to send someone capable of stopping Lady Parthia from harming Lady Anitra; your orders were to remove any threats above Tier Three, but also to not interfere with the Royal succession battles... there is a confusion there amongst your agents."

The Sage snorted derisively, shaking his head. "More like save Parthia from Anitra... it'd be best to send someone at Tier Six, like Eric; Parthia is almost to Tier Five, after all, and Anitra is... well... somewhere between Tier Five and Seven. I say let them fight, see what happens. Anitra already subjugated a Tier Five Rogue, a Tier Four Mana Warrior won't be a challenge, even if she's almost reached her next Class."

The Emperor frowned thoughtfully at his uncle. "You're not worried that Anitra will kill her?"

"No, she's smart enough to-... well, she might make an example out of Parthia to forestall any future challenges, and that would ruin your plan to use her as Bait... you're right, that could end badly. I'd send Eric to deliver an invitation to the funeral, and surreptitiously interrupt the duel before there's a winner on either side; that's best for everyone, I think."

"Sending the Marshall of my Legions to deliver an invitation?"

"Sending your son to deliver a letter to your granddaughter, and save his daughter from death or embarrassment.." The Sage corrected the Emperor's thinking calmly, and received a nod in response.

"That's fair enough; Send Eric with the information about the Funeral for Anitra the Storm, and inform him to halt the duel when he arrives, as subtilely as that oaf child of mine can."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The Scribe bowed, dragging the messenger behind her by the ear as she left to go write a quick order and then give the young man a very stern lecture about where he is not allowed to simply burst into rooms!

— Arcata, Dungeon District Guild Hall —

Eric Arcata approached the lively tavern with long, purposeful strides, never one to doddle along or hesitate, and soon reached the open doors, stepping into the bustling interior. At first, no one noticed him, instead watching some spectacle in the center of the room, where he could see a young blonde woman shrieking and screaming profanities while floundering around on the ground, apparently unable to stand up due to some magical trap that was spread around her, and another blonde girl, about the right age for Anitra, simply sitting nearby on the very air itself, levitating like Sage Hothien often did whilst meditating, and seemingly completely disinterested in the raging girl on the floor in front of her.

Seeing no reason to stay away, the tall heavy armored man strode forward confidently, raising a hand to hail the young woman. His mistake, of course, was that he didn't realize the extent of the magical trap that was capturing his daughter, and so one of his feet scraped the edge of it, and he instantly felt all friction disappear off of that boot.

It was only sixty years of military discipline that kept him on his feet, as he instantly shifted all his weight to his other foot and lifted the offending limb slowly out of the range of the magic.

The young girl levitating nearby raised a small blonde eyebrow at the tall armor-plated man, glancing down at his raised foot. "I've never seen anyone manage to step out of a Grease Spell... interesting. Who are you, what do you want? You're clearly not an adventurer, and your blonde hair, fancy plate armor, and suspicious timing all mean you're probably related to the royal family. Considering family resemblance, I'd say you're either a cousin or uncle to me, though you've never seen me before, clearly, so why you're here now is a mystery... you can't be here to show some form of familial love or mourn the loss of my mother, your family utterly lacks any and all forms of true loyalty and unconditional love, being full of nothing but plotting snakes and vicious idiots like that dumbass over there, so that you would be here to show some form of love and comfort is simply not possible. You must be here because you want something, no?"

Eric Arcata was instantly taken aback, both by the very different personality in this girl than he'd expected, and also by the icy finality that she showed towards their family, claiming they did not have love for each other. Still, he couldn't quite say she was wrong, considering her own perspective; her mother had just died, and not a single member of her family had come to check on her or express condolences, and in fact one of them was here to challenge her to a duel before her mother's spirit was even laid to rest. After a moment to consider his words as carefully as he could, the Marshall decided to simply introduce himself and do as he'd been ordered. Somewhat. "My name is Eric Arcata, Tier Six Heavy Knight General, Marshall of the Legions of Arcata and General of its Guard; Anitra the Storm was my older sister, and I do mourn her passing, though clearly differently than you do. My duties forbid me from showing grief, as it is a weakness our enemies will exploit. I was sent here to give you an invitation to Anitra's Funeral in six days' time, and also collect and discipline this numbskull daughter of mine. As for what I want, I suppose you're correct that I want something, but now isn't the time for such business; instead I will give you the invitation as I've been instructed by the Emperor." He held up an envelope with a wax seal upon it, and it slowly lifted out of his hand, flying towards the girl and depositing itself on the table behind her, while she continued to stare at the girl on the ground.

"Now is the only time for you to speak business with me without an appointment and Toll, Marshall. Speak your request now or forever hold your peace; Toll for a Tier Six is Five Gold Coins, by the way. And as for the idiot on the ground, I haven't finished with her yet; the Duel is still ongoing, and I refuse to lose or accept a tie. You may take her when I have tired of tormenting her or when her spirit has been thoroughly broken."

The girl on the ground had finally halted her screaming while they were talking, now laying on her back and heaving for breath in a directionless rage; she was in no condition to make threats, but she responded to the conversation at the top of her lungs anyway. "When this spell is over, I WILL KILL YOU, YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE LEECH!!!"

"Good luck with that, dear, I can cast the spell an infinite number of times, it's a Tier Zero Spell called Grease." A dry reply was forthright from Anitra, alongside a wry chuckle from the heavy armored man as he realized her point.

He moved to speak at the edge of the disk of grease, careful not to step into it, and frowned at his daughter sternly. "Yes, I believe you are well and truly beaten, Thea; give up now, preserve what little dignity you have left, and go home to tell your mother how you've embarrassed yourself and our family with your childish antics!"

"I haven't lost yet!!! I can take that little shit in a fair fight!!! You'll see!!!" She began struggling again to stand, and managed to get up onto all four limbs by locking her joints and preventing herself from being thrown onto one side, then grabbed her sword and threw it in a deadly line straight towards Anitra's throat.

The Marshall moved instantly, appearing behind Anitra and reaching for the sword, but stopped when he saw a spell that was already cast in her palms, hidden from Parthia's view. The spell caused a perfectly clear spherical shield to appear around her body, slamming into the Marshall's chest and knocking him back a step before deflecting the sword into the ceiling above her where it stabbed up to the hilt into a beam, the enchanted blade cutting through the stone with ease, but apparently not magical shields.

"A fair fight? Honey, do you realize you're challenging a Mage to a Sword-fight? What part of challenging someone with no Fencing Skills to a sword fight is fair? Should I get to challenge you to a battle of wits, considering my sincere advantage in that scenario? Or is it only fair if it benefits you, you spoiled, pompous little child?!?" The sword slid out of the beam slowly, and before it hit the ground it began hovering in front of Anitra, floating over to above her opponent until it was pointing directly towards Parthia's heart. "Tell me, Cousin; does this seem Fair to you?"

The grease underneath Parthia finally dried up and disappeared, but with a sword pointed at her heart, she didn't dare to move from her place on her back, staring death in the cold, metallic face silently.

"Of course, you'd need to be a threat to me for this fight to be considered fair, regardless of the rules, so you don't qualify. I'm keeping your sword, and your armor too, but you can go. I have no further interest in tormenting the weak." The sword returned to its sheath on its own, before Parthia's entire armor and ensemble fell apart off of her, leaving her in her standard clothing under her armor, dazed and confused. After a moment of inaction, a whip of air cracked next to Parthia's body, stinging her behind viciously and sending her screeching out the building in a hurry. The armor rebuilt itself while the Marshall watched, then walked over to Anitra under its own power, kneeling in front of her while her feet finally touched the ground. "Nice, look at you... animated armor really does work very nicely! Let's get you enchanted, yes? That'll make for a very interesting experiment." The armor and the girl lifted off of the ground and floated up towards the second level of the building, landing and stepping towards the open door of an office.

Almost as a second thought, the letter picked itself up off of the table and soared lazily into the office behind them, and the door closed behind it with a sense of finality, leaving the Marshall standing, quite confused as to what he should do now, in the middle of the silent room.