“So,” Viktor said as he flopped back into his bed. “You’ve heard it all, right?”

  [Yes, Master. The Guildmaster of Iskora is planning to rebuild the southern part of your old capital city, effectively establishing a new settlement with convenient access to our dungeon. Is my understanding correct?]

  “That’s the gist of it,” Viktor said with a snort. “What do you think?”

  [I find the idea absurd. How is it even possible for Clovis to build his settlement right next to an already existing town just like that?]

  “Yes, it’s not normal. Then again, the whole situation about the Central Plains has never been normal to begin with.”

  [What do you mean, Master?]

  “Three hundred years,” Viktor said. “That’s how long the land has been sitting empty. Three centuries handed over to trees and beasts. And that’s wrong. That’s not how the world works. Normally, every patch of dirt belongs to someone. A person, or an organization. Someone always stakes a claim, even if it’s on paper only. Even some remote, inhospitable middle of nowhere could still have a nominal owner.”

  [And the Central Plains have perfectly good land.]

  “Exactly. The soil is fertile. The location is excellent, being right in the middle of everything. And the network of rivers makes transportation and trade convenient. Yet, the Plains are untouched, as though the world has collectively agreed to ignore its existence.”

  [Maybe they find clearing the forest and the monsters too troublesome.]

  “Obstacles like those could make development inconvenient, but they are not something the current great powers can’t overcome. And even if those kings and queens are incapable of swallowing the whole thing, carving out a piece is totally possible. Tell me, what kind of monarch sees valuable land like that lying in the open and says, ‘No thanks, I’m good’?”

  [What do you think the reason is?]

  Viktor shrugged. “The only theory I can come up with is that it stems from some pact between those six so-called Heroes when they divided my empire among themselves. For reasons I still don’t understand, they all seemed to have agreed that no one would lay a hand on the Central Plains, leaving it to nature, and that agreement has been passed down to their descendants. That is why, for three hundred years, none of them attempted to extend their dominion here.”

  [What about the smaller kingdoms, then, Master?]

  “I suspect the pact is exclusive to the great powers. So only Lyndor, Arstenia, Brefjord, Sargan, and Tzharan. Middle powers like petty kingdoms and independent city-states are not bound by it, so in theory, they could have ventured into the Central Plains if they wanted. However, they probably looked at the situation and reached the same conclusion we just did: the great powers, for some unknown reason, had decided to leave the Plains alone. They didn’t know why, but they sensed danger or complication. So instead of provoking something they couldn’t handle, they chose to keep their distance. In the end, the only ones who came here to carve a piece of the land for themselves were a bunch of nobodies who had nothing to lose.”

  [And that is how the founders of Daelin got their chance. But then, Master, once people saw Daelin survive and nothing terrible happened to the settlers, why didn’t more people move in and build their own towns in the Plains?]

  Viktor chuckled. “We can’t say for sure there were no other attempts. We only know about Daelin because it made it. There may have been other outposts, but they got eaten by the monsters before they had a chance to grow. After all, even though the waters around this area are relatively safe, the other parts of the One Thousand Streams are infested by all kind of creatures.”

  [I got it. So the great powers avoided the Central Plains because of some secret agreement. The middle powers didn’t act because they were wary of the unknown. Only the small folks tried their luck, but most of them have failed.]

  “Yes,” Viktor said. “This section of the Plains, spared from the underwater monsters, is really the only place that actually makes sense to settle. And since Daelin was already here, any newcomers would rather tag along than start something else nearby. No point in competing when there’s nothing worth fighting over.”

  [Until now.]

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Viktor nodded. “Our dungeon has changed everything. The emergence of such a gold mine will inevitably attract attention, so it’s not exactly unusual that someone would try to pop up a new settlement. What’s unusual is Clovis himself. There’s got to be a reason why he fixates this hard on you.”

  [In that case, him coming here is not necessarily a bad thing.]

  “You’ve got a point. If he just stayed in Iskora, we wouldn’t be able to learn anything. But if he’s going to build his town here, he’s got to send someone to run it. Someone he trusts, someone close to him. And that means opportunities for us. Opportunities to spy, to figure out what he’s up to.”

  [Yes, Master. Anyway, what about Guildmaster Isadora’s plan? What do you make of it?]

  “Well,” Viktor said with a frown. “Her intention makes sense in theory; it’s logical to consolidate resources when facing someone like Clovis. But the way she’s orchestrating it is utterly baffling. What the hell is she trying to pull? Maybe Claire is being used as a diversion while Isadora carries out her real plan elsewhere. But... what for? What exactly is she trying to distract from, and why does she even need a distraction at all?”

  [So you don’t think Claire has any chance at all?]

  “No way in hell. Putting aside the question of how she could possibly get to the top of the building to reach Rennald’s office, even if she somehow did manage to see him, it wouldn’t accomplish a thing.”

  [Why not, Master?]

  “Just think about it, Celeste. If Isadora somehow caught wind of Clovis’s plan, do you think Rennald would have missed it? Of course not. No, he must have already known by now, which means he’s either implemented his own countermeasures, or he’s cut a deal with Clovis. Personally, I’m betting on the latter.”

  [So you think Rennald’s already on Clovis’s side? What do we do, then?]

  “Well, as you’ve said, having an enemy close isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If Rennald indeed is Clovis’s creature, then spying on him could tell us plenty about that slippery Guildmaster. And conveniently, we already have the right asset in place.”

  [Yvonne?]

  “Yes. Her.”

  The idea of having the former Lyndorian spy infiltrate the top floor and plant an ink drop from that Reliquary inside Rennald’s office had become more and more tempting.

  “When is Orloth meeting her again?” Viktor asked.

  [Tomorrow, Master.]

  “They meet once per week, right?”

  [Yes.]

  “That’s far too infrequent,” Viktor muttered. “If an emergency arises, I can’t afford to wait that long to give her instructions.” He paused. “Tomorrow, Orloth is to ask her where she lives in town, have her describe the place in detail so there can be no mistake, and then tell her that she might receive written orders delivered directly to her house, which she must follow to the letter.”

  [You are going to send her the orders yourself?]

  “Yes.”

  He could easily craft a Thauma to conjure a gust of wind to deliver the letter through her window. That way, he would be able to tell her what to do without ever showing himself to her.

  Of course, this would immediately alert Yvonne that someone in town was working for the dungeon. But it was fine. Yvonne herself was an agent of the dungeon, so learning that there was another wouldn’t surprise her. As long as she didn’t know it was him, it was not a problem. Besides, letting her know she might be watched even when she was outside the dungeon could serve as a deterrent, keeping her from getting funny ideas.

  “This is only preparation in case something might happen,” Viktor said. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to the caravan station with Claire. I’ll gather information and see where that leads me before taking further steps.”

  [Understood. Have fun, Master.]

  “Fun?” Viktor frowned. “I’m not going there to enjoy myself.”

  Also, was it just him, or had there been the faintest hint of cheerfulness buried somewhere in that perfectly flat tone?

  [Yes, I know it is work. But, Master, even though work is important, so is spending time with your family.]

  “What are you talking about?” Viktor snapped. “She’s not my family. I just happen to be occupying her brother’s body. That’s it. No more, no less. There’s absolutely nothing else between us.”

  [Master, do you dislike Claire that much?]

  “I don’t dislike her,” Viktor said flatly. “She’s irritating at times, sure, but that’s beside the point. I don’t feel strongly about her one way or the other. Just... indifference. We have to live under the same roof for the moment, so we tolerate each other. That’s all there is to it.”

  [Well...]

  “Besides, what’s even the point of pretending we’re family? It is not real. She doesn’t care about me, just as I don’t care about her. The one she cares about is her brother, who I am not. He’s gone. I have no idea where he’s now, but he’s gone. If Claire ever found out the truth, she’d be absolutely horrified. Do you honestly think she would look at me the same way afterward? So why bother trying to fit in? This isn’t a world I belong to—”

  “Quinn!” A voice from downstairs. “Who are you talking to?”

  Damn it. He had been whispering to Celeste, careful to make sure no one could hear. Of course, keeping the conversation entirely telepathic would have been much safer, but he had never gotten used to it. It was just... unnatural. So he always reverted to whispering when no one else was around. However, he had gotten a little agitated this time, so his voice had become louder than intended. Still, it was fine. He doubted Claire could have made out any of it from down there.

  “No one,” he yelled in reply. “What are you talking about?”

  “Strange. I thought I heard something. Anyway, dinner is ready.”

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” he shouted, then quickly lowered his voice again. “We’ll talk again later.”

  [Understood, Master. Also... I apologize for bringing that up.]

  “It’s fine. Just don’t mention it again.”

  [Enjoy your dinner, Master. What are you having, by the way?]

  “Don’t know yet, but whatever it is, it’ll definitely have bacon in it,” Viktor said with a snort.