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On that day, Lucella had rented a quaint and pleasant inn all to herself.

She paid double the regular rate for all the rooms in the inn and even covered the expenses for the other guests to relocate to different accommodations.

Although the guests might have fled without the need for payment, Lucella believed that such behavior was not ideal. She didn’t intend to cause inconvenience. With funds prepared, resolving issues with money seemed to be the appropriate course of action.

Most buildings in this town were equipped with cool underground spaces.

The inn where Lucella stayed was no exception; beneath the surface lay a storeroom for provisions and a small recreation room with board games and a weathered billiard table.

Now then.

Seated in the middle of the recreation room, permeated by the smell of tobacco, Lucella closed her eyes. Using the senses of her soul rather than her body’s five senses, she tuned in to the flow that moved this world, listening to the sound of the gears that set the world in motion.

Roaring and bustling, there was something circulating.

Compared to the grand torrent, even Lucella, empowered by the might of dragons, seemed like a small pebble thrown into a great river.

Within that flow, she sensed something like a core… no, perhaps a pipeline; the presence of something foreign and artificial.

It was the conduit for power for Regalia environmental control—a Regalia Line. It was a manipulation of the world’s mechanisms by human hands.

The Regalia Line circuits traversed the territories of the human nations evenly.

Although the Regalia Lines were not entirely physical entities, existing partially at the conceptual level, they were often laid underground, where environmental changes on the physical coordinates were less likely.

Hence, Lucella sought to sense their presence in underground spaces as close to the Regalia Line as possible.

The Regalia Line is contaminated. At this distance, it’s practically the same as being next to it.

The rampaging “Wisdom Eye Vortex” had indeed become a tempest as its name suggested, slowly advancing northeast.

Its power even began rewriting the surrounding Regalia Lines, claiming them as its own. Since it wasn’t being systematically maintained, the contamination would likely be temporary, but it was enough for Lucella to trace it and make contact with the “Wisdom Eye Vortex.”

Listening to the flow, sensing it, creating, and intervening.

The aftermath of the power manifested as droplets swirling around Lucella, and the billiard table was splashed with mist. Then, distant thunder roared from the heavens. With a muffled resonance, the thunderous sound reached the underground room. Immediately afterward, joyful screams were heard from the surface. A sudden rain, rare in this region, showered the town.

Lucella, having completed the “treatment,” refocused her awareness on the Regalia Line. Her heart throbbed, and the power pulsed through her. The uncontrolled release of power continued.

Perhaps choosing to “travel” was the right decision after all. It has to be done gradually.

Lucella shook her head and stood up.

To calm the rampaging Regalia, it would take roughly several days.

…That was an empirical rule for calming the Regalia with the Regalia itself. While it was hearsay knowledge for Lucella, it turned out to be the same when calming with the power of dragons.

While pursuing the “Wisdom Eye Vortex,” Lucella had to move and gradually bring about the calming.

The pulsations transmitted from the leyline circuits, if likened to sound, were like a scratchy, discordant noise that seemed to claw at the ears, at least according to Lucella.

Scattering power and calling out to Monica, the “Wisdom Eye Vortex” soared.

What is it saying? What is it thinking? Will I understand if I get closer…?

Although the entire inn was rented out, Lucella and her companions were using just the largest guest room.

In every room, complex-patterned carpets, reminiscent of those seen in the daytime market, were spread out, with large dinner plates directly placed on them.

“We’ve already started eating.”
“…What’s with this massive amount of food?”

It seemed to have been brought in while Lucella was working underground. Monica and Kafal were gradually serving themselves from the abundance of dishes.

There was a pot of lamb stew rice, something resembling a pie with bean paste, sheep’s milk and alcohol, and a generous assortment of fresh fruits that would undoubtedly be precious in the desert.

It looked like enough for twenty people at least.

Had the innkeeper generously spent only the money Lucella paid, unsure of the amount of food needed for a dragon, or had they fearfully overprepared to avoid displeasing the dragon? Lucella suspected the latter.

“I messed up. I should have told them how much we needed in advance.”
“They probably prepared it on their own, right? Don’t worry about it.”

By the way, the correct amount was two servings. Lucella, who had a hearty appetite but was proportional to her body size, Monica, who ate lightly, and Kafal, a puppet body that didn’t actually need to eat but enjoyed the act, made for a combination that was satisfied with that amount.

It would be a waste to leave it behind.

Thinking of ways to use storage items to take the food with them, Lucella also started eating.

Then, as she took a bite of the bean-paste pie, the door to the room was gently knocked on.

“E-Excuse me for interrupting your meal. An official from the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs wishes to meet you.”

The dragon at the front gate, the bureaucrat at the back door. The innkeeper conveyed the visitor’s presence with a fearful tone.

“Please let them in.” Lucella immediately agreed.

The “guide” Ivar mentioned.

From the Empire’s perspective, it was a point of contact for dialogue and a surveillance agent.

While she could have rejected them, they were already in the palm of the enemy’s hand once they entered Maltgartz. Considering that their movements were likely transparent at this point, Lucella thought that adding one more watcher wouldn’t make much of a difference. Moreover, it might provide a clue about the enemy’s intentions.

The innkeeper disappeared without showing themselves, and in their place, orderly footsteps approached the door.

“Excuse me. Kafal, the Red Dragon of Mount Kuguse. Lady Lucella, your adopted daughter. And the companion, Lady Monica. Is that correct?”

A young and clear voice, sounding familiar with the conversation, echoed.

Well, they’ve done their research.

Lucella genuinely admired the fact that he didn’t refer to Monica by the “Foster” surname.

From the start, Duke Foster had only used Monica as a sacrifice, and it seemed he harbored neither particularly positive nor negative emotions towards her. If anything, Monica (as expected) harbored a strong dislike towards Duke Foster and the Foster family.

Considering that this consideration was not mere politeness but a rational judgment to smoothly proceed with the task at hand, Lucella was impressed by the thoroughness in gathering the necessary information and incorporating it into their approach.

Maltgartz was powerful.

While Emperor Richard’s strength, akin to the God of War, stood out, without the ability to manage the organization of a nation, it would have been impossible to create such a colossal empire in just one generation.

Lucella was about to engage with the hands that operated this powerful nation.

“Yes, please come in.”

With a deep breath, Lucella opened the door.

And there, seeing the young man in a suit, Lucella was struck with a shock as if hit by lightning.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Efrain Kraubel, affiliated with the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The young man, with neatly arranged bronze-colored short hair as if he had just come out of a salon, performed an elegant and precise bow.

Lucella knew that man. Even after ten years, his features remained unchanged. There was no way she could mistake him.

Efrain. He was a friend from the childhood dormitory where Lucella… where ■■■■■ had spent his early years.