Queen Myrasyn's posture softened by a degree. The sharp edge in her eyes faded, replaced by composed distance. "Where is Gorthrax the Eternal?"

"Making preparations," the Blind Grave Oracle replied.

Her head then angled toward Ragnar. "I may be reasonable. But you will not like what I have to say."

The dwarf king's expression hardened. His jaw set. He nodded once, releasing a breath through his nose.

"Go ahead."

She wasted no time. "Our partnership rests on a clear division. Elvardia reclaims its elven and dwarven captives. Humans and beastkin fall under the Covenant claim."

It was the basic agreement made between the two forces. While both parties had ulterior motives, bolstering their ranks was a boon they both desired.

"That division has been violated."

Her gaze drifted past the rulers, past the advisors and the glowing war table, as if she were looking directly at the cities themselves.

"The Primordial Villain entered this conflict as an external force, invited by Elvardia, opposed by the Covenant. He is bound by no formal clauses."

She continued without pause.

"Any city he touches is stripped clean. Orphanages are emptied. Homes are opened and cleared. Slave districts are reported as destroyed during the siege. The pattern is so clear it feels as though he's mocking us."

She lifted her head, looking at the king and queen once again.

"He is taking them."

King Ragnar's fingers pressed into the stone armrest of his throne. His voice remained even when he answered.

"As you just stated, Elvardia is a victim of this as well. Our own elven and dwarven captives are missing. They are nowhere to be found when our forces arrive in the slave districts."

The Blind Grave Oracle let out a sound that scraped its way through the chamber.

It was a chuckle.

Dry. Ragged. Stripped of any warmth it might have once held. The sound carried the weight of something old, finding confirmation rather than surprise.

King Ragnar didn't need to be told what she found amusing. But the lich ventured to do so anyhow.

The Blind Grave Oracle allowed the chuckle to fade on its own. Her head tilted slightly, as if aligning her thoughts for those who still required explanation.

"To Elvardia, the recovery of your captives represents a marginal gain. A minor correction of losses already accounted for. Elves and dwarves taken during border conflicts, raids, and proxy wars return to familiar structures. Their reintegration strengthens you slightly, but that's it."

Her staff shifted a fraction as she continued.

"To the Covenant, the calculus is different. We invade human lands. That alone determines the nature of the spoils. The overwhelming majority of captives were always expected to be human, with the other races comprising the remainder. These lives were designated to replenish our ranks, our labor pools, and our long-term reserves."

Her unseen gaze hardened.

"We commit vast resources to ensure these sieges succeed, offering our minions up so that fewer Elvardian soldiers are lost. That decision was made deliberately, under the understanding that Elvardia would gain territory while the Covenant would gain millions of corpses."

She paused long enough for the words to settle.

"That balance no longer exists."

Neither Ragnar nor Myrasyn spoke. The advisors remained still, eyes moving between the projection and the war table without comment.

"The Primordial Villain disrupts every stage of this exchange," the Oracle continued. "He removes the population before Covenant forces arrive. He empties districts meant to be harvested. He denies us the very compensation that justified our expenditures."

Her head inclined.

"And that is only the first imbalance."

"He assists you directly. Barrier sieges conclude faster. Ammunition reserves remain higher. Casualties among your forces drop further with each engagement he participates in. But by the time a city's defenses fail, most undead losses have already been incurred."

The words landed with steady weight.

"You benefit from his presence twice while we absorb the cost."

Silence held.

"When these terms were agreed upon, we accepted asymmetry. We did not accept erosion."

Her fingers tightened once around the staff.

"I would not have entered this discussion under ordinary circumstances. However, the current trajectory renders our agreement unstable. If no corrective action is taken now, the Covenant will consider the pact null and void."

The projection held steady as her gaze fixed on the king and queen.

"I urge you to make amends, or we will be forced to recoup our losses in another manner. I believe there's a certain duke right now who would be more than happy to work with us."

Then she added with a low whisper, "And it just so happens that the Covenant is aware of the Grand Elvardian Strategy… If it were to fall into the wrong hands so early into its realization…"

Outrage rippled through the room.

Queen Myrasyn's fingers tightened inside her sleeves. The sigil circle on the table reflected a dangerous light across her eyes. The calm distance she favored during councils was gone.

"I suggest you watch your tone, Oracle. You address the rulers of a sovereign empire, not a fellow gang of criminals."

The Blind Grave Oracle said nothing.

No rebuttal. No correction. No retreat.

Her skull remained angled toward them, runes unmoving, staff planted against the stone as if the matter had already been decided.

King Ragnar's jaw flexed. The armrest beneath his hand creaked as his grip tightened. "You threaten us with treachery. This is dangerous waters you're sailing."

Still, the lich did not answer.

The silence stretched long enough to become deliberate.

Myrasyn turned her head slightly. Ragnar met her gaze. For a brief moment, the projection ceased to exist in their minds.

They looked to their advisors.

The generals, tacticians, and spellwrights gathered around the chamber did not speak. One by one, they shook their heads. Small motions. Reluctant. Certain.

They all knew.

The undead were too useful.

The Covenant's necromantic minions had turned sieges that should have dragged on for days into clean, methodical advances. Barriers fell with fewer Elvardian casualties. Their supply lines remained intact because of the lengthy tunnels the undead carved into Ravenshade lands. Entire fronts moved faster because tireless corpses absorbed the brunt of attrition.

And this was only the opening phase.

There were later stages planned.

However, even more than that, the Blind Grave Oracle's warning had landed precisely where it was meant to.

The Grand Elvardian Strategy was not a single document. It was a framework. A sequence of contingencies layered across decades. If fragments of it reached the human king now, before Elvardia's assault lasted even a whole day, the cost would be measured in numerous lives and lost momentum.

While the Covenant was likely only aware of small snippets they'd gleaned from their strategy meetings, keeping the undead cooperative for now was far too important.

However, it was also undeniable that the Primordial Villain was a great boon to have. Furthermore, he seemed to have betrayed humanity, so the two rulers hoped they could earn his favor and have him willingly serve Elvardia.

"What do you want?" Myrasyn asked finally.

The Blind Grave Oracle did not answer immediately.

Her skull leaned forward by a fraction as the hollow pits of her eyes fixated on Queen Myrasyn's gorgeous, delicate face. The elven queen did not look away, returning the glare in full.

"Capture him," the lich said at last, voice flat and cold, "and hand him over to us."

The words settled heavily across the chamber.

Myrasyn's lips parted, ready to decline.

"Or," the Oracle continued without pause, "pay reparations for his transgressions."

The queen closed her mouth again, expression tightening.

"…What do you want?" King Ragnar asked this time.

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