“My Divine Mother, isn’t this the very trick I once used against you?!”
Yukla stared at Ailaira in disbelief, mulling over how she herself had come up with the exact same plan back then—so how had she lost so miserably? As if seeing straight through Yukla’s thoughts, Ailaira put down her teacup and said, “That’s why you’re still young.”
Yukla, hearing this, began calculating Ailaira’s age back then on her fingers, then frantically complained in her heart: With your age, you weren’t even an adult at that time, right? To think a child could plot so viciously—no wonder I lost to you.
Though Yukla had long accepted her defeat, there was still some lingering resentment in her heart. But after personally hearing of Ailaira’s brilliant exploits, the flame of revenge within her was finally extinguished.
She might as well just work honestly—forget about her dreams of becoming an Underground Emperor.
Ailaira stood by the window, overlooking the City Lord boarding his carriage.
With a crisp snap of her fingers, the vast Defensive Ritual enveloping the entire mansion rose once again, though to outsiders there was not the slightest visible change.
Only those deep within the mansion could look up and see the sky-shrouding Magical Barrier.
Yukla clicked her tongue in awe, attempting to open a Space Channel, but the space here had already been locked by a Magic Formation; no one could sneak inside with space magic now.
“That’s quite something, to have such a large-scale, multi-layered Defensive Ritual, and to keep its strength at the seventh tier. Must have cost you a fortune, right?”
“Not much. Just cost me half a day and a few trivial Ritual Materials.”
“Boss, you’re kind of scary.”
Yukla noticed Ailaira kept gazing downward. Following her line of sight, she saw that disguised Red Dragon, tirelessly refining her own magic power.
Fiery red currents swirled around her, yet never expanded outward.
Yukla recognized this as the critical stage from fourth to fifth tier: the need to manifest a surrounding Domain of magic power.
Clearly, Andrea had yet to grasp even the rudiments of a Domain. “So she’s only fourth tier? With that kind of strength, you’re really going to have her face that Dragon Princess?”
“I never said I was going to have them fight.”
“But you’ve brought the Visiting Delegation into the house—there’s no way to hide the Red Dragon’s identity, is there?”
Ailaira withdrew her gaze and drew the curtains, sitting casually at her desk. “Bringing the Visiting Delegation here is just for the convenience of my research on other races. After all, there are far too few nonhumans within the Border.”
“As for what she does when she meets her own kin—that’s her own business. I can’t suspend my plans just because of Andrea.”
Yukla nodded; such ruthlessness was exactly how she remembered Ailaira.
But thinking it over, setting up such an enormous Defensive Ritual at this timing couldn’t be just for show, right? And with those materials she’d been asked to prepare, it wasn’t hard to guess that Ailaira was planning to make a move on the nonhumans.
“I don’t really get politics, but if something happens to this Visiting Delegation on human territory, wouldn’t that easily spark a diplomatic incident?”
Ailaira showed a faint trace of disdain, the gilded pen twirling through her fingers. “Why do you think the Royal Capital people were so willing to let me take this on?”
Yukla was stumped. “Isn’t it because you can keep things under control?”
“If I let those nonhumans leave without a scratch, wouldn’t that put my title as Witch to shame? They know full well I’ll stir things up, but they don’t care. If any race really wants to make a fuss over it, the Expeditionary Army’s battle-maniacs are itching to go anyway.”
At that, Ailaira herself revealed a rare glimmer of regret.
If only she’d been born a century earlier, in that chaotic age of war, she wouldn’t have had to conjure up so many tricks just to climb the ladder, ending up with nothing but trouble for her efforts—and meeting the one opponent she could never resist no matter how hard she tried.
Mother Goddess! I’ll settle that score with you sooner or later!
Letting out a long, heavy sigh, Ailaira steadied her mood and waved her hand, giving instructions to Yukla. “Go make the arrangements. Make sure everything is prepared.”
“Understood, Boss.”
“And keep an eye on Sillirora’s apostasy.”
“No problem, Boss.”
Yukla gave a salute, habitually tried to open a Space Gate to leave, but after several gestures with no effect, cast a resentful glance at Ailaira, then stomped off down the stairs.
Ailaira parted the curtains, peering through the crack to watch Andrea, exhausted and sprawled on the lawn, and murmured, “I hope you can still surprise me.”
Time flew by, and five days passed in the blink of an eye.
On this day, the main road leading to the Green Family mansion was completely sealed off. Sword-and-shield-wielding soldiers guarded every intersection, persuading passersby to take detours. The curious opened their windows, gazing at the distant, heavily guarded city walls, where the City Lord’s tall, resolute figure stood at the forefront:
“Are we about to go to war? Why does it look like a citywide lockdown?”
“I don’t think so. There hasn’t been a major war in decades. Maybe some big shot is coming to visit?”
“Who knows. Let’s just hope nothing weird happens. We’ve finally had some peace these years.”
What the residents hoped for was also what the City Lord himself desired. At this moment, he stared at the distant, approaching procession, nervousness buried so deep it never showed on his face. He turned to the Secretary Officer skilled in Divination Magic and asked:
“Do you think anything will go wrong this time?”
“If City Lord is asking about the divination, I can only say it’ll be a fright but no real danger.”
“And your personal gut feeling?”
“Something big is bound to happen. It’ll be resolved in the end, but how… is anyone’s guess.”
The City Lord had been looking for reassurance, but now his last hopes were dashed. He barely restrained the urge to kick his tone-deaf subordinate off the wall, gritting his teeth. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re too kind, City Lord. Just doing my job. Our guests have arrived.”
A team of more than a dozen approached the city walls at last, finally revealing their full splendor. Each race rode its own mounts, displaying their unique traits.
Elegant, noble elves rode snowy white unicorns, their pale, tender feet exposed, the contrast between their beautiful faces and simple clothing only highlighting their natural, otherworldly grace.
The Fishfolk swam within enormous floating bubbles, their shining scales reflecting every color of the rainbow, their gossamer fins smooth as silk.
The Mountain Dwarves were the plainest, simply riding ordinary carriages.
Yet their steeds, toughened by the mountain climate and tempered by geothermal fire, were wilder and fiercer than any horse.
At the very front marched the central figure of this Visiting Delegation—
The Dragon Princess, standing atop a Dragon Beast’s head.
Her voluptuous figure was wrapped in a black dress, leaving swathes of snow-white skin exposed. Wielding a giant sword so large it was almost absurd, she pointed it at the human city walls, loudly proclaiming her arrival:
“I am the Dragon Princess, Kuchierkan.”
“All of you—come forth and duel me!”