Show Me Your Stats!

Ayra narrowed her eyes, then flopped face-first onto the bed, sighing dramatically loud enough to be clearly heard.

“At this rate, I might actually die from overwork...”

“Overwork?”

Maybe it was just her imagination, but it felt like Janus’s ears perked up at that. His heated hand clamped onto her shoulder and, without effort, flipped her over. He looked at her with the kind of expression reserved for something pale and puny—like a speck of dust or a sickly ant—and suspiciously squeezed Ayra’s relatively frail forearm before letting it drop again. Lying still on the bed, sleep crept up fast.

“Yeah. It means dying from overwork...”

“Hm... Then should I eliminate the cause?”

Ayra’s eyes, half-lidded in sleep, snapped open at those words. Crap. It was a good idea to test his Favorability—just not with someone who didn’t follow common logic. Janus smiled charmingly and tried persuading her in his own way.

“If everything gets cut in half, doesn’t the workload get halved too?”

“No! I just need to eat well and lower my stress!”

What the hell is he trying to halve? My territory? My citizens? Every step felt like a landmine—she was too scared to say anything. She started to say more but ended up yawning instead. She really was at her limit. She needed to wake up early to prepare for the summit tomorrow. Sleeping now was the only way she’d make it.

“Anyway, if you came to sleep, then go ahead and do that. I’m going to sleep now...”

Ayra lazily waved her hand and lay down. She’d barely been lying there a minute, and already her voice was slipping into sleep. But it seemed Janus’s business wasn’t over yet—he kept calling her name repeatedly, asking her not to fall asleep. Granted, he hadn’t come all the way here just to show her his tongue. Well... if it was a dragon’s tongue, maybe that wasn’t such a small deal...

“Just for a moment, before you sleep, answer one thing... Ayra? Ayra?”

Janus’s voice drifted farther and farther away. The warmth of his body was simply comforting. So, how were the humans you met today? Ayra? Already asleep? You say they were all good people? ...What did they look like?

Ayra fell into a deep sleep before she could even register the questions or her own responses. Right before she lost consciousness, she could feel something soft and unmistakably human—not dragon-like at all—licking her lips gently.

❄

“My Lord, you seem to be in a good mood today. Did something good happen?”

“Do I look it?”

Ayra only gave a small smile in reply. It was no wonder. When she woke up, Janus had left a well-drained, bloodless chunk of meat in her bedroom. The chef took one look and declared it black-horned deer—a delicacy—and grilled it perfectly for breakfast. The meat, rich with winter-seasoned fat, was delicious.

‘So even though we’re not lovers, he’s being extra generous now that the Favorability’s gone up.’

It was oddly satisfying to be doted on by the temperamental dragon. Of course, it always felt like walking a tightrope with death waiting on either side...

After throwing on her robe, Ayra headed down the hall. When she arrived at the first-floor hall, Orsain and Arvalt were facing off, each flanked by their own retinues of knights and vassals. The tension was thick. Ayra casually swept between the two factions with a flick of her robe and stopped right between the two lords, smiling sweetly.

“Preparations are complete. Please, both Lords—this way. I’ll personally guide you.”

Both lords looked like they were about to draw blades but reluctantly averted their gazes and followed Ayra.

The meeting room Ayra had prepared was a hastily constructed stone building, completed in just a few days. It was barely five pyeong in area, with no windows except a few cramped ventilation holes too small for even a rat to squeeze through. The white marble walls and floors left nowhere to hide. In the center were a table and two chairs, and in each corner a magic stone brazier to provide warmth.

The two lords inspected the space and nodded, seemingly satisfied. It was a location impossible to ambush from either inside or outside. Ayra smiled and added:

“The best part about this building is the soundproofing magic. No matter what’s said inside, not a word can be heard from outside.”

To demonstrate, Ayra had each lord send one knight inside and ordered them to scream as loud as they could. Even with the door wide open, not a sound escaped. Orsain and Arvalt looked at her with renewed curiosity. Their expressions seemed to say, ‘Ah right, she’s that labyrinth mage.’

Once they were done inspecting the building, both parties stationed their guards at a distance. Then, in full view of everyone, they disarmed and entered through the two separate doors on either side of the bunker-like structure. When the doors shut, tension swept through the knights and vassals left outside. They couldn’t hear a thing from within.

However, there was one person here who could eavesdrop on their conversation.

‘Not that I really need to listen. I can guess what they’re saying.’

A wry smile curled Ayra’s lips. She lowered her gaze. On the back of her hand, Pebble perked its tiny 1-pixel ear and displayed a [Loading......] message. Because everything had been prepared in advance, the loading finished quickly. A system window unfurled before her eyes.

[Loading chat log between Orsain of Jumenie and Nilma Arvalt.]

System: Welcome to “Nailroom” (the room you can’t leave unless you talk)! :D

System: ▷BolniIronChestplate◁ has entered.

System: Sobletz<GreatLord#8> has entered.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: Not bad, considering how rushed it was.

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Aside from the fact that I have to share air with a bastard like you, yeah. Not bad. I’d like one in my own territory.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: You think I don’t find this disgusting? I could crush you right now with my bare hands, weapon or no, you loathsome coward.

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Always with the brute strength. You’re a savage in heat, and the people of Bolni must be pitiful to have a beast like you as their lord.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: What did you just say? A beast in heat? You ****ing psycho?!

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Can’t hear so well already? Shame. I guess you’ll be passing on your title soon. Not that your son has the brains to govern a damn thing.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: You **** ****! Your ancestors were all **** too!

Apparently, their relationship was even worse than Ayra had assumed. For Ayra’s mental well-being, Pebble auto-enabled the profanity filter in the chat window. She stroked the back of her hand in approval. After a ten-minute barrage of insults, the two finally got tired and moved to the main topic. Ayra sighed. No useful intel so far—and she was starting to freeze from the cold.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: That forest has always been part of our territory.

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Actually, our territory had it first. We only lent it because we lacked proof—until now.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: Don’t make me laugh! You think I’ll accept some conveniently “discovered” ancient rock as «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» evidence?

From what she could gather, the argument was over the Silk Spider Forest. It had long been Bolni's land. But about ten years ago, a merchant discovered how to spin fabric from silk spider thread. That’s when Sobletz suddenly claimed they'd found an old border stone, asserting ownership.

Orsain insisted that Bolni had forcibly occupied the forest 200 years ago from Sobletz. Naturally, Arvalt wasn’t about to relinquish a prime revenue source like the silk spider forest without a fight.

‘Does Sobletz want to go to war with Bolni...?’

But why? It’s a rich port city, sure—but militarily, it couldn’t hold a candle to Bolni. Ayra tilted her head in confusion as the insults resumed.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: You rat-faced bastard, acting like a rat! I’ll never give up the forest! Want it? Start a war!

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Hah. You think I won’t? You’re too stupid to reason with.

▷BolniIronChestplate◁: Get the hell out! Or I’ll kill you right now!

Sobletz<GreatLord#8>: Go ahead, let’s see you try!

System: Sobletz<GreatLord#8> has left the chat.

After saying “go ahead and kill me,” Orsain bolted out and slammed the door. Considering Arvalt was the more skilled fighter, probably a wise move. A few moments later, Arvalt stormed out too, slamming his door hard enough to crack it. The two glared daggers at each other like they might come to blows on the spot.

Then, as if on cue, they both turned sharply and left without a word. The summit had failed. Spectacularly.

It looked like war might be declared then and there, but in the end, it was all bark. The two lords reconvened that evening for another round—and it ended the same way. So did the next day’s meeting. And the one two days later.

Nobody was backing down. Which made Ayra’s situation increasingly difficult.

On the fourth failed attempt, Ayra sat alone in the study, tapping her fingers nervously on the desk.

“At this rate, I’m going to fail the quest...”

On top of that, the extended stay of the two lords was wearing out the staff mentally. Word was, Orsain’s children had taken up bullying the locals around the territory for fun. Ayra let out a sigh and pulled up the quest window again.

<Quest!>

[Who Owns the Silk Spider Forest?]

Successfully mediate the dispute between Sobletz and Bolni!

Reward: ???

Caution: Failure to mediate the dispute will lower the territory’s Commerce Level!

The biggest problem was that Ayra had no means of mediating between the two lords. She didn’t have the power to crush either of them. Her role was limited to hosting the talks in exchange for basic supplies. And she had nothing that would tempt either of them enough to compromise.

Well... not nothing. She did have one erratic, unpredictable dragon.