"Do you accept these conditions? A mano e mano."

  The king's voice rings in Noro's head like the Tengu in Seraphiel's. "You must not allow that to happen even if it kills you".

  Noro must oblige his king.

  He thinks.

  "I have to refuse that offer-"

  "I can not hear your king", Khael interrupts.

  "What?" Noro says as if something ridiculous is said.

  Sol looks up; Vanele turns to him, as if waiting for a reaction.

  "I can infer he is speaking to you by your thoughts, but I cannot hear him. That's strange, unnerving even". Khael does not read minds; one of his passive traits is the ability to leak the insides of someone's body, almost like a weakened version of Yumi's empathy, but on a mass scale and passive. He can hear the murmurs of the room; he can feel it as if it were his own. He is the bearer of the Marrow appellation. His grimoire bears a skull split in two; one side has a horn growing from it, and the other is, as usual, filled with spiral tears in space. The specifics of this power were the most haunting.

  "He is guiding you to reject this offer, no? Something about you dying, maybe?" Khael says as if giving a psychic reading.

  The king orders Noro not to think but to repeat word for word what he is told.

  Noro swallows before saying, "I reject your offer. Prepare yourselves, Seriol and Rea. The moon will set in Cairnreach before you escape your punishment".

  Khael interrupts. His servant 1 is patting his head with the black cloth and applying a fragrance oil to his neck. The room fills with rum, cacao and vanilla.

  "In that case. Zod will take part in this war. I shall not take sides, but I will aim to make Cairnreach and Verez minor kingdoms under my rule as fast as possible. Your kingdom is the prize in the competition between Zod and the others".

  An even worse outcome for Noro and his big mouth.

  Noro freezes; his mind is filled with Don't think, don't think, I won't think.

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  "My final offer, the king may take Verez as an ally, and any minor kingdoms of their choice. Against I alone." Khael raises his voice.

  "What is this guy doing? Is he insane?" Vanele whispers to Sol.

  "Khael is an anomaly even for appellations, though the odds are impossible, I cannot imagine him losing."

  "He agrees", Khael announces before Noro speaks, "and I am far from insane", he adds. "These kingdoms, chosen by a superior being, have been reigning unleashed for too long. The kingdom of Zod will demonstrate to those below and above that man is God's finest creation."

  The room falls silent.

  Seraphiel looks at Khael with an envy so palpable it's apparent to everyone.

  I want to be just like you. He addresses Khael directly in his mind.

  Khael side eyes him with a straight face. Seraphiel had not forgotten that he was from the kingdom of Cairnreach; no, he recognised that and wanted to be the one to put down the kingdom of Zod. He wanted Zod to win this initial war, and Khael knew. His Cairnreach, like him, will be cleansed by the flame of destruction and brought back stronger.

  "A signal will be sent indicating the start of this war."

  "And that is", Noro says with trepidation.

  "You will know".

  The meeting had defied everyone's predictions. None had expected that neither Seriol nor Rea would fight, and that Zod would face multiple kingdoms alone.

  Ryo had not uttered a single word. He was too taken aback by the treatment of Yumi earlier and frankly scared of facing another appellation.

  Sura and Xut smiled.

  Madarame's statement of Sura being a nameless soldier in Zod was correct if it is applied to pure skill and physicality. But his pact with the Hydra, which was hardly even pronounced, was what made him special.

  Khael's watch makes a ticking noise as he gets up, once again shaking hands and bowing with all, including Xut, Sura and Noro. He takes his leave.

  As Khael walks out, he takes 1 by the hand and slowly guides him to the carriage, which is drawn by 2 black horses and prepared with 2 steaming cups of the finest tea.

  On his seat, he had left a small vial with the label, "To my tormented friend Sol, a man few understand."

  Madarame lets out a hearty laugh. "Bahaha" paired with a phew, which only Khael heard. He expected Zod to be destroyed, but to weaken Cairnreach and Verez enough for them to win handily. Sol joins in, "haha" Vanele follows, one by one, they all laugh except for Seraphiel and Noro. Seraphiel was absorbed in thoughts of reclaiming Cairnreach from Zod, and Noro was being reprimanded with severe vitriol by the King. The plague of Zod was a quaint man, he seemed polite, stringent, and severe. Evil? Worthy of the tales or title? Certainly not. The title was not from actions but of his power; he plagued the bodies of men, drawing out the marrow and replacing himself with it.

  The king rushed about the chambers. An issue of the utmost severity was known only to him. Zod was not facing the Crown's power; the Crown would not respond to the king. It behaved both in reality and in the log as if it were not worn at all, waiting for someone to put it on. The most powerful weapon currently in the hands of a kingdom was useless. The plague of Zod had infiltrated the King's marrow.