The baptism of fire for the Praetorian Guard was silent and efficient. Under Dietrich's command, the two hundred guards had neutralized incursions of wolves and ogres with a mechanical precision that left no trace of chaos. However, the vibration of the magicules used in defense and the presence of a structure as alien as Avalon finally drew the gaze of the one who observes all in Jura.
While Sirzechs and Grayfia inspected the perimeter of the Iron District, the air began to smell of fresh-cut grass and wildflowers. From an ancient tree flanking the wall, an ethereal figure emerged. Treyni the Dryad floated a few inches above the ground, her emerald eyes scanning the Corinthian columns and the Homo-Hollows with a mixture of fascination and caution.
"What a strange melody you have brought to my forest..." Treyni murmured, her voice heavy with the weight of nature. "I know every creature that crawls or flies in these lands, but you... you are an enigma that does not exist in the records of the roots."
She landed before Sirzechs, sensing his crimson aura—an energy she could not define as "monstrous," but which possessed a divine and destructive authority.
"I am Treyni, one of the guardians of Jura. I have come to understand what new race this is, building temples of white stone and moving with the discipline of an ancient army."
Sirzechs, maintaining European courtesy, gave a slight bow.
"I am Sirzechs Gremory, Sovereign of Avalon. These are the Homo-Hollows, a people who seek order and excellence."
Treyni spent hours walking through the city, accompanied by Sirzechs and Grayfia—the latter never ceasing to note the "local authority's reaction" in her reports. The Dryad was stunned. She saw Benedict operating his bakery with the precision of an alchemist; she saw Sebastian teaching solfège to Hollows who, not long ago, were mindless shadows; and she felt the absolute rigidity of Dietrich's command.
"You are an anomaly," Treyni concluded, seated at a marble table in the palace while Grayfia served her local herbal tea. "In another part of the forest, a village of Goblins and Orcs is uniting under the command of a Slime named Rimuru Tempest. But they still live rustically. You... you have created a ready-made nation in months."
Upon hearing the name Rimuru Tempest, Sirzechs felt a mental click. He finally had a temporal reference point. The fact that Treyni was acting on her own and describing Tempest as a mere union of Goblins and Orcs suggested that the Jura Federation was just beginning, likely shortly after the defeat of Geld, the Orc Lord.
"Rimuru Tempest..." Sirzechs repeated, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "A Slime leading monsters. Interesting."
Treyni looked at him seriously.
"The growth of both is unprecedented. As a guardian, my duty is to prevent two powers from colliding due to misunderstanding. Avalon is too advanced to be ignored, and Tempest is growing too fast. I will go to them. I shall propose a summit between the Slime and the Crimson Lord."
Grayfia immediately handed Treyni an envelope sealed with red wax and the Gremory crest.
"Deliver this to their leader. It contains our formal protocol of diplomatic intentions and a list of minimum etiquette requirements for a meeting on neutral ground."
Treyni laughed, finding Avalon's formality almost comical by forest standards, but she accepted the envelope. She disappeared in a cloud of leaves, leaving Sirzechs pensive.
"Grayfia, prepare yourself," Sirzechs said, looking out at the illuminated village. "The Slime she spoke of is no ordinary monster. If he is at the stage I imagine, Jura will soon have two suns. And I intend to ensure that Avalon is the brightest."
Notas do Autor para a Web Novel:
Ponto de Virada: Sirzechs finalmente confirmou onde (e quando) está! O encontro entre a burocracia gélida de Avalon e o carisma caótico de Tempest está prestes a acontecer.
Curiosidade: Como você acha que o Rimuru vai reagir ao receber um envelope de "exigências de etiqueta"?