299. Herptian HQ’s Reconciliation
Ravenna then turned her gaze toward Marie, her eyes flickering with a secret amusement before she looked back at Alice. “What about ‘that’ thing I asked for?”
Alice smiled broadly and gave a firm nod. “It is on schedule, Your Highness. It will arrive exactly on Lady Marie’s birthday, just as you planned.”
Marie looked between the two of them, her expression a mix of confusion and intense curiosity.
“Since we have successfully annexed Otto City, our application for the Imperial Navy’s assistance in patrolling the borders of the Free Cities has been officially approved by the Imperial Court,” Alice continued her report, her eyes scanning the wax-sealed parchment.
“Hmm.” Ravenna leaned back, her mind calculating the geopolitical shift.
Alice continued, “Our heavy usage of cannons and rifles during the offensive to reclaim Flask County has ensured that the entire mainland is now aware of our firearms' devastating power.”
Knight Captain Hughes nodded in somber agreement. “During our battles across those twelve territories, we made a conscious effort to minimize our volleys so the enemy couldn't fully gauge our maximum range or reload speeds. However, the news has traveled fast. Most factions now have at least a rough idea of our battle capabilities.”
“It was unavoidable eventually,” Ravenna said, her tone shifting as her thoughts drifted to the late High Priest James. “What about casualties?”
“The toll was higher than anticipated due to the Cult’s interference,” Captain Hughes admitted, his voice dropping an octave. “The only saving grace is that we didn’t lose a single soldier to the actual battles against the noble armies. Our technology outmatched them, it was the Dungeon that drew blood.”
“Is the Church preparing to hold a funeral for the fallen?” Ravenna asked, turning her gaze toward Junior Priest Finn.
The young man gulped, clearly nervous to be filling the massive void left by High Priest James. He adjusted his collar and nodded. “The preparations are underway, Your Highness. And… there is word from the Herptian Faith Headquarters.”
“Continue,” Ravenna prompted, pouring herself a glass of water.
Junior Priest Finn nodded quickly. “The Pope has expressed his most sincere apologies for the disaster caused by the arrival of the rogue Archbishops. He asked me to convey that the Holy See had absolutely no knowledge that the upper hierarchy had been so deeply infiltrated by The Cultists.”
“Of course they didn’t,” Vice Captain John spoke up, breaking his uncharacteristic silence. his voice was cold and sharp. “But that doesn't change the fact that this incident forces us to question their internal security and their worthiness to protect the Saintess.”
“W-we understand,” Junior Priest Finn stammered, frantically pulling out a set of documents. “The Pope has stated that they will be sending a rigorously inspected crew and a new council of Archbishops as envoys. They have signaled their intent to cooperate fully with Your Highness’s claim to the Ancorna Imperial throne.”
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He paused, taking a shaky breath. “The Pope has also requested that I bestow the Seal of the Archbishop upon Your Highness in the coming days, as a formal recognition of your service in protecting the Saintess when the Church itself failed her.”
It was a transparent move; the Herptian Faith was desperate to prevent this scandal from permanently severing their ties with Kim Dukedom and The Saintess.
“Hmm.” Ravenna pinned Junior Priest Finn with a calculating stare. “Tell them this: if they want my forgiveness, they are to send every scrap of information, every ancient text, and every forbidden record they possess regarding Hero Luminous and the Universal Origin. Only then will I reconsider the terms of our relationship.”
Junior Priest Finn felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn't a complete victory, but it wasn't a rejection either. He felt a small sense of accomplishment for surviving the encounter.
“Why are Nille and Richard not present?” Ravenna asked, her eyes sweeping the room for her lead blacksmith and her head of food management.
Sarah stepped forward to explain. “Master Nille has been entirely consumed with welcoming the craftsmen and engineers arriving from Otto City. He asked me to convey his deepest apologies for his absence.”
She placed a technical report on the table. “According to his apprentices, research and development is moving faster than ever thanks to the influx of skilled manpower. He particularly wanted to emphasize that the ‘Internal Combustion’ and ‘Energy Conversion’ projects have reached a significant breakthrough.”
Ravenna slammed her hand onto the table, a devilish, triumphant smirk spreading across her face. “Is that true?!”
“Finally,” she thought, her pulse quickening. “Internal combustion engines. If we have those, modern electricity infrastructure is only a heartbeat away.”
“And Richard?” Ravenna asked, regaining her composure.
“Mister Richard requested a leave of absence to deal with a crisis regarding the Broadleaf Arrowhead flowers,” Sarah explained. “There is a severe manpower shortage. Since those flowers are the primary ingredient for the Purple Glass Ball Dust used to disrupt magic, we cannot risk hiring unvetted immigrants to handle the harvest. He is working with the administrative staff to find a secure way forward.”
“I see,” Ravenna nodded, her mind already moving toward the next stage of her industrial revolution. She stood up, smoothing her sheer shirt. “It seems we’ve covered the essential agenda. This meeting is dismissed.”
The heavy oak doors of the study clicked shut, finally sealing out the endless stream of logistics and political maneuvering. Ravenna leaned her back against the wood for a moment, letting out a breath that felt like it had been held for hours. The air in the castle corridors was growing thick and stagnant; despite the high ceilings and stone walls, the encroaching summer was making its presence known. The humidity of Kim Island was a different beast as always from the slight heat of the capital, clinging to the skin like a damp shroud.
She made her way to her private chambers, her boots clicking sharply against the marble until she reached the soft, plush carpets of her bedroom. The room was bathed in the silver glow of the moon, which offered a deceptive illusion of coolness. In reality, the temperature was rising steadily. Ravenna reached for the fastenings of her sheer overshirt, her fingers moving with practiced efficiency.
One by one, the garments fell. The sheer fabric, the structured silk bra-top, and the short pleated bottom were discarded onto a chaise lounge, leaving her standing bare in the center of the room. The slight breeze from the open balcony windows finally hit her skin, providing a fleeting shiver of relief. She ran a hand through her dark hair, lifting the heavy locks off her neck to let the air circulate.
Even without the layers, the heat felt like a physical weight. She moved toward her bed, the silk sheets feeling cool for only a few seconds before her own body heat began to warm them.