There are many bad ways to start a conversation.
Being accused of espionage.
Falling through dimensions.
Explaining to powerful women why I keep collecting their sovereign artefacts like emotional Pokémon.
But somehow, nothing quite compared to standing in the middle of a burning fortress while the war sovereign looked down at me and asked:
"Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand."
Honestly?
Strong opening.
I respected it.
Around us, battle still raged.
Raiders screamed.
Steel clashed.
Ash rain fell like the world itself had given up on clean weather.
And above it all, Vira stood on the southern wall like war had personally chosen a favourite daughter.
Dark crimson cloak.
Silver-black armour.
A blade resting on her shoulder with the casual confidence of something that had ended kingdoms.
No wasted movement.
No unnecessary elegance.
Just certainty sharpened into a person.
I looked up at her and chose honesty.
Mostly because Lei Mira had specifically threatened me about it.
"Because killing me before introductions would be rude."
Silence.
The scarred soldier beside me closed her eyes, as she had already accepted my death.
Reasonable.
Vira's expression did not change.
Somehow worse.
Then—
very slowly—
She jumped.
Not climbed.
Not descended.
Actually jumped from the fortress wall.
She landed in front of me hard enough to crack stone.
No dramatic effect.
Just physics being terrified.
She stood.
Taller up close.
Worse.
Much worse.
Her eyes moved once over me.
The Stormguard Band.
Moon Crest.
Crimson Sigil.
Crown Fragment.
Every poor decision I had ever made was displayed like a diplomatic crime.
She exhaled through her nose.
"…Lei sent you."
Not a question.
Not even disappointment.
Just professional exhaustion.
I raised one hand.
"In fairness, I also made several independent bad decisions."
She ignored that.
Consistent.
The scarred woman from earlier stepped beside Vira and bowed slightly.
"My lady, the southern breach is contained."
Interesting.
Not queen.
Not sovereign.
My Lady.
Personal loyalty.
That meant more.
Vira nodded once.
Then pointed at me.
"And this?"
The scarred woman looked deeply offended by my continued existence.
"Suspicious."
I liked her.
Vira agreed.
"Yes."
Excellent.
At least we were building consensus.
I crossed my arms.
"For the record, being repeatedly called suspicious is starting to hurt my feelings."
Vira stepped closer.
Dangerously calm.
"Good. Keep them sharp."
Right.
This woman weaponised conversation.
Lei Mira had somehow undersold that.
She stopped close enough that lying would have felt physically impossible.
"Why are you here?"
There it was.
Not the joke.
Not the test.
The real question.
I touched the crown fragment at my side.
"Because the Obsidian Covenant is moving through every sovereign realm."
Her expression did not shift.
Interesting.
She already knew.
"Because someone is preparing for the final gate."
Still nothing.
Of course.
And finally—
"Because Lei Mira still talks about you like unfinished thunder."
That got a reaction.
Tiny.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
Perfect.
The scarred soldier looked at me like I had chosen death recreationally.
Also fair.
Vira's voice lowered.
"That was either very brave…"
A pause.
"…or very stupid."
I considered it.
"Yes."
For the first time—
The corner of her mouth moved.
Not a smile.
But close enough to be filed under miracles.
Then the horn sounded again.
Long.
Low.
Wrong.
Everyone around us stilled.
The scarred soldier turned pale.
"North ridge."
Vira's expression changed instantly.
War returned.
Cold.
Precise.
She turned toward the fortress tower.
"Not raiders."
A soldier ran toward us, blood on one sleeve.
"Black banners, my Lady. Eastern mercenaries refused engagement—they're retreating."
The scarred woman swore.
I didn't need an explanation.
Black banners.
Not random violence.
The Covenant.
Of course.
Because apparently, peace was illegal in every dimension.
ARINA flashed.
High Threat Event: Obsidian Covenant Presence Confirmed Priority: Immediate Containment Additional Note: Ashborn Signature Detected
I stared.
"No. Absolutely not. He is not allowed to keep doing this."
Vira looked at me sharply.
"You know the black-masked one."
Not a question.
I nodded.
"Unfortunately."
Her hand tightened around her sword.
"He has been here for months."
There it was.
The real wound.
Not just war.
Infiltration.
Someone was poisoning the realm from inside while everyone blamed the surface battles.
Classic villain professionalism.
I hated it.
Vira turned to the scarred soldier.
"Captain Rhea. Hold the fortress."
Finally.
A name.
Rhea nodded instantly.
No argument.
Absolute trust.
Good.
I respected that.
Then Vira looked at me.
Decision made.
Terrible for me.
Excellent for plot progression.
"You're coming."
I pointed at myself.
"That sounds unsafe."
"Yes."
Wonderful.
"Then naturally, I have no choice."
"No."
She turned toward the northern gate.
"You do not."
I followed because apparently, all sovereign women had independently decided my consent was decorative.
As we walked through the fortress, soldiers moved around Vira like certainty had taken human form.
Not fear.
Faith.
That was different.
That was harder to earn.
And much more dangerous to lose.
I looked at her.
At the woman Lei Mira had once called a friend.
At the sovereign who ruled war without letting it become worship.
The person everyone here trusted to stand where the fire was worst.
And I understood something important.
She had not chosen war.
She had chosen everyone war would have taken if she hadn't.
Titles lied like that.
The Woman Who Chose War.
No.
The woman who stayed when war arrived.
Much heavier.
Much lonelier.
As if hearing the thought, Vira said without looking at me—
"Do not mistake survival for cruelty, outsider."
I blinked.
Right.
She was terrifying.
I nodded once.
"I'm starting to notice a pattern with sovereign women."
She sighed.
"Lei should have left you in another realm."
Honestly?
Fair.
Ahead of us, black smoke rose beyond the northern ridge.
The Covenant was waiting.
Ashborn was close.
And somewhere between old wounds and new battles—
The fourth fragment had begun moving.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.