Tristan kept flipping through the pages of the dossier Eloise's friend had composed. A list of the different Demon Houses; their names, the locations of their owned territory, and the current house head. The house heads, of course, were Demon Lords – a designation given to a demon who had amassed power; whether political, economic, essence-weaving, or military.

To the north were the Mariclau, led by Gerard in a region of the realm called the Black Sands. A house that rose to power and prominence by their military might.

To the northeast, the Nouvax, led by Louis, in a region called Ferin – the primary agricultural powerhouse of the realm.

Note to self, Tristan thought as he tapped his fingers on the back of the small notebook, try some local cuisine while I'm here. Continuing his reading and ignoring the slight grumbling in his stomach, he flipped to the next section on the noble house list. Not for the first time since receiving the dossier, he felt disheartened at the lack of information that had been gathered. It's all so surface level. I would imagine an information source inside the realm would be far better informed.

To the southeast was the Parslile house, led by Clova, and their territory was called Avonal. Powerful essence-weavers who had warped that part of the realm to suit their whims. From the bit of information within the pages Tristan perused, they had reshaped the landscape to create a singular, huge, mountain citadel. The inside was supposedly hollowed out. They would probably be the most powerful allies I could hope to get aligned against the Demon King. I've seen the difference that a mighty spell can have on a battlefield.

Directly south was the Tousles house, led by Philippe, from the region called the Crescent Lakes. The youngest of the noble houses, as the leader elected to have a more favorable view of Demonkin – treating them less like peasants and more like servants. Artisans and craftsmen plied their trade in the family's lands, and several new styles had come to the forefront thanks to their treatment of the Demonkin. They are on the outside of the current power structure. Allying them to my cause should be easy enough given that they obviously seek disruption of the current social order…but will other noble houses work alongside them given how they wish to disrupt the social order?

To the southwest were the Alphinaud, led by Stramal, in the region called Brightmarch. Also a military power, but one that did not rely on large levies like the Mericlau to the north. Instead, they had heavily specialized military units that often worked in conjunction with the northern house. Ideally, I get both of them on my side.

He paused his reading for a moment to stare into the empty hearth opposite the chair. If I was somehow able to get all six of the Demon Houses on my side then taking out Duberceix would be easy. But if they are anything like the nobility in Bhant…then they will absolutely have grudges against each other. Flipping to the last page, he re-read the section about the northwestern noble house, the Dalphatroux, led by Debera, from the region called Khrel. The youngest of the Demon Houses in terms of longevity, and yet their rise to power was meteoric. Thankfully, Tristan knew why thanks to the nymphs and their espionage and scouting efforts. It was because the Dalphatroux had the backing of other realms, facilitated by an intrepid essence-weaver who was enabling them to directly interact with those different domains.

They probably have several connections in other Realms that would be interested in seeing the existing order toppled, and thus giving the Dalphatroux a chance to take over. Tristan knew well enough thanks to his upbringing in Bhant at court how things worked in matters of succession. Normally, the role of monarch would pass to the eldest child. However, in the absence of children, the noble houses – normally the greater ones – would vote on the next ruler.

But this wasn't just a monarchy. This was control of an entire realm. And thus, the rules were slightly different. A vote among the Demon Houses, for sure, but they could leverage their assets to sway the vote in their favor. Ultimately, I need to just end the threat of these assassins. Duberceix is the source of the plot, and so the Demon King must fall. Just based on these brief glimpses…I would be best served trying to see to Philippe Tousles or Debera Dalphatroux ascend to Realm Protector. They would be the most open to a cordial and peaceful existence.

He looked up from his rumination on the pages as the door shook briefly before opening. Felicity ran into the room, slamming the door behind her, and ran over to Tristan; hugging him tight. Her voice trembled as she spoke in the Standard Tongue. Her voice trembled. "I…smelled another Winterbloom."

Tristan shot up in his chair – still holding onto Felicity as he stood up and had to gently nudge her back for space to stand. "What? Where?!"

She shook her head against his chest, "I tracked the scent to the center of the capital. A huge castle." She shuddered slightly in his grip, "It smelled…off. Like it was rotten."

Tristan scowled, "Then your assumption seems correct. The assassins were meant to take out the bloodlines of rulers. This other Winterbloom you caught whiff of – they must be the person that Duberceix wants to use to take control and rule by proxy." He pulled Felicity away slightly and ran a hand along the back of her head, looking at her still-shocked face. "It'll be okay."

Felicity's breathing steadied a bit and she bit her lip, nodding slightly. "Mmmkay. You're right. I just can't let myself be seen by them at all." She shook her head, "I've smelled full-blooded Winterbloom thanks to you, and half-breed as well before you chased me to the Fey Realm. I've never smelt something like that. The bloodline was…polluted. There was barely any Winterbloom, and it was like…rotten mint. Soapy. A nasty, non-scented soap."

Tristan was raised and told his whole life that he half-breeds were only possible between Humans and other heritages. There was no such thing as a half-breed that is Demonkin and Elf. Unless…maybe one parent is half-breed Demonkin, and the other is half-breed Elf? Could you have a mix? It would be a very diluted bloodline if it was possible. He cupped Felicity's chin, "How thick was the scent? Can you smell that? How…pure the blood is? Compare it to mine."

Felicity nodded and her voice firmed up a bit, "It was thin. Really subtle. I only picked up the whiff because it stands out so bluntly." She smiled ever-so-slightly, "It's okay- I'm fine. I was just a bit shocked to find another Winterbloom when all of them are dead. Were dead. Except you."

The two were interrupted and glanced sideways as Eloise entered the room and shut the door behind her. She pulled back her hood, letting her black locks fall free. Sighing, she leaned against the door. She, too, spoke in Standard Tongue. "Well, I confirmed a few details…but you look like you have something going on right now. Mind filling me in?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Felicity quickly informed Eloise of her discovery, and Tristan filled in his theory about how such a diluted bloodline might come about. Eloise was quiet, but nodded slightly as the duo spoke. Finally, when Tristan was done, she grimaced. "Then we know why the Venomous Rose were killing off bloodlines. Looks like your "evil genius" prediction was correct, Felicity. They killed off prominent bloodlines in ruling positions across multiple Realms, and acquired a half-breed with that bloodline to interbreed with a half-breed Demonkin, loyal to Duberceix." She put her hand to her chin and looked down at the ground, frowning as her brow furrowed.

"I was always told that only Humans can interbreed with the other heritages. Is that untrue?" Tristan asked.

Eloise tilted her head to Tristan slightly, "Where did you hear that?"

"It was common knowledge in Bhant."

She shook her head, "Must have been some propaganda. Any heritage can interbreed with another heritage. Even half-breeds. Makes sense that a Human-centric kingdom would want to shift the truth to meet their ends."

"We still move forward with the plan then, yes?"

Eloise looked up and met his gaze. "Yes. Duberceix must fall. But, I can go back to the inter-realm market and send message back to some friends of mine at the Citadel. Let them know to notify other Realm Protectors that we know why some of their prominent bloodlines suddenly died off. That alone will mean the Demon Realm begins to become isolated – meaning the Demon Houses will turn on the Demon King. It gives us a better chance of allying them to our cause. But, more support than that from other realms? We need concrete proof. Such as kidnapping these half-breeds that are poised to be inserted into positions of prominence. That would be the most definite evidence."

"That's not something I think we can do, or should do," Tristan replied feeling a bit overwhelmed at the totality of the circumstances. "We should stick to our main plan."

Eloise sighed, shrugged, and walked over to the duo. "I'll just let my friends know, then, and the other realms can look to their own means of finding proof."

Felicity shifted to her fairy dragon form and jumped up on top of Tristan's head. Her demeanor returned its usual bubbly nature, "So! What did you find out?"

Eloise smiled, "There are representatives of the Demon Houses here in Saumur. I'll be working on obtaining an audience with them. But in the meantime, you should head toward Delphatroux lands in Khrel. They are already friendly with other realms – I think they would be our best bet at trying to find allies in this endeavor of ending Duberceix."

And getting my vengeance, Tristan added mentally. "Then I will depart. You have the communication bracer?"

Eloise held up her wrist and pulled back the black sleeve, revealing the thin, goldwood bracer. "Yes. We will be able to correspond readily. I'll inform you as much as I can."

Felicity tapped his crown, "Hey. We need camping supplies."

"Right," Tristan replied, "We can't risk using the Fey Realm Ring as that could notify the Realm Protector. And we cannot bring a unicorn here for fast overland transport." He sighed and looked at Eloise, "And you're positive I cannot purchase a mount?"

Eloise shook her head, "Too risky. Remember the cover story."

Don't remind me, Tristan thought as his mouth went slightly dry at the thought of walking for days upon days. Disgraced Demonkin mercenary, with nothing but the armor and weapon I couldn't bear to part with . . . Back to being like I was before Felicity took me to the Fey Realm the first time. He poked Felicity, "Ready to head out?"

"Yup! Let's get out of this place and head off."

Acquiring some travel goods was simple enough and finding an alley to duck into, Tristan spun his crucible and pushed the essence into his Emerald Amulet, hidden on the belt that slotted several of the items across his waist, that held the Pocket Dimension II spell. He shoved as much as he could into the extradimensional storage space, but ultimately Felicity had to put the tent into her much larger space created as part of her innate capabilities as a fairy dragon. The reason for buying the supplies in the Demon Realm rather than bring them from the Fey Realm was simple; he wanted to blend in. Other-realm material would cause him to stand out instantly. Even his armor, normally bright and shining had been marred with mud and dirt.

The narrow streets remained as they had been in the lower-middle class district where the inn was located. But the signs of lesser living conditions quickly increased in commonality as the buildings looked less well-kempt and the streets became ever grimier. He had to breathe through his mouth as the stench of the gutters that had not been tended to in some time wafted through the air.

"Why is it so smelly?" Felicity asked.

Tristan shook his head, not wanting to reply in Standard Tongue while on the streets. I don't know why this section would be so unkempt. The upper-class and middle-class sections were tended to by Imps and Quasits. If I had to wager, I would bet that the Demon Lords who hold the power here could keep the whole city clean – but they want to remind the Demonkin of their place in society. The thought caused a simmering heat to roil in Tristan's chest; amplified by the fact that his realm was far nicer and it cost him almost nothing to afford the residents of the Fey Realm the living conditions they had. It could be so easy for a realm to provide all that a person needed . . . he clenched his jaw as he kept walking.

Reaching the city walls, Tristan followed the thin road while glancing up at the imposing fortification. Occasional sets of stairs cut their way back and forth across the massive face; Demonkin soldiers dressed in black, metal armor went about their business patrolling up above. Scattered among them were demons who stood head and shoulders above their lessers; deep, crimson tabards marking their position in the military hierarchy. Eventually, the narrow street led to a far wider one – a main boulevard that was very well-kempt, as it shot a course directly for the inner walls that kept a separation between the upper-crust of society and the lessers surrounding them.

The gates were shut, save for a smaller door nestled in the bottom left of the huge, carved, metal structure. As Tristan joined the line of people who sought exit from the city – mostly a few merchants with empty carts and small groups of guards – he craned his neck up to take in the whole carving. It showed a massive demon sitting on a throne, holding a scepter in his right hand and a globe in the other. A hulking figure with broad musculature, a humanoid shape, refined robes, and a crown that seemed formed from horns of prior rulers.

"Halt," a voice said in Demon's Tongue as he reached the front of the queue. "State your reason for leaving."

Tristan kept his voice measured and in control as he replied, "Marius Lestrange. I'm going to Khrel."

The guard, a fully-fledge demon wearing pristinely polished and engraved black and silver armor, cracked a toothy grin of superiority. "Some disowned runt, eh?"

Tristan nodded, "Yes. I failed in my duty and was fired. No work here in the capital with you lot doing such a good job."

"Mmm. Flattery. Good that you know your place." The guard captain nodded to a Demonkin in less-shiny and pristinely polished armor behind him. That man opened the metal door and waved Tristan through.

Tristan let out a breath once he exited the gates and saw the full expanse of the Demon Realm on display before him. Vast, rolling hills of white-grey grass vanished into the horizon. It looks so similar to the farmland outside of Bhant, he thought as he took note of the few merchant carts that headed along a stone-lined path leading off into the distance. Now, then…northwest. Tristan walked along behind one of the merchant carts, getting close enough to see the creatures that pulled them before passing.

And he was slightly nauseated by the clicking and clattering noise of the enormous beetles that pulled the carts. Huge horns jutted from either side of their head, and the little, spindly legs rapidly skittering along filled him with a sense of unease as he quickened his pace to pass the merchant who barked after him. "Hey! Want a job?"

"No thanks," Tristan replied with a backhand wave as he kept his face walking pace going. Swapping to Standard Tongue, he whispered to Felicity. "Now check that map and tell me when the road we need to take is coming up."

"On it!"

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