Claire stretched her arms as far as they would go, yawning as she escaped her bed in spirit form. It was still early in the morning. The sun had only just started clawing its way above the horizon. Far was the light from reaching over the castle's walls; it would be ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before it streamed through the curtains and shone upon her still-sleeping body.

Leaving her shell behind, the snake-moose floated over to the balcony and basked in the morning air. She couldn't tell if she could actually feel the gentle breeze or if she was imagining it, like how she was imagining the non-existent mutants that had followed her out the door. They marched in single file, one tiny, misshapen creature after another, before grouping up in front of the railing for a quick discussion. They had a plan by the time they broke their huddle. Collarsaur climbed on top of Shoulderhorse's back and used Shouldersnake as a grappling hook. It took a couple tries, but she was able to lock the serpent onto the ledge and climb her way up before hoisting the useless pony up the wall.

Claire only briefly watched them before returning her gaze to the castle's grounds. The imaginary animals were far from the only ones out and about. Hundreds of soldiers ran around the building. Dressed in full plate armour, even the elves weighed at least half a ton. The centaurs were four times that; their hooves surely would have rang throughout the castle if not for the sound dampeners spread all around it.

The gardeners watched the parade with their faces twisted in pain. They knew that the particular strain of grass they planted could easily resist the constant pounding, but they couldn't help but wince every time the soldiers' feet fell. Further adding to their stress was the sheer variety of training in which the soldiers engaged. Those not in the midst of running around and building their endurance were emulating the nation's godking.

Like Virillius, they did their forms, repeating the most basic motions over and over and over again. The training sounded simple, but it was inordinately exhausting. Every blow was delivered with the full extent of one's speed and strength. And at least for those who understood the purpose, they were performed with an invisible enemy in mind.

The smartest among them realised that Virillius' practice only took the shape that it did due to a lack of suitable opponents. And so, seeking just those, they improved together, sparring in the arena with no holds barred. It seemed dangerous, but it was unlikely for the men to deliver any fatal blows even when fighting their hardest, and the training weapons only further muted the possibility.

Claire was tempted to join her father for a spar, but she shook her head of the thought. She'd refrained ever since she entered the Langgbjerns. It wouldn't do any good to ruin the surprise before they met in the ring.

Sighing, she led the phantom brigade through the common area, where Chloe was cooking up breakfast, and out into the hall. Neither the maid nor the guards reacted when she passed them by. The most sensitive mages took note of her legion, but she herself went unnoticed. It was hardly unexpected. In her spirit form, she was effectively on another plane of existence. Perhaps a soul mage might've been able to see her, but she had the authority to negate even that. And for once, not through the use of excessive brute strength. It was as easy as running a command through the system, a feature of which she'd grown ever more cognizant following her ascension to aspect.

The system was ridiculously convenient. With just one simple query, she was able to determine that the maid standing outside of her door had a racial level of exactly 307. Her primary class, Royal Cadrian Launderer, was level 644, and it gave 15 ability points per level. At the still young age of 112, she had married thrice so far, with her first two unions prematurely ended courtesy of her poor performance in the bedroom. Her third husband had considered the same resolution, but valuing the tie with her family over his personal gratification, had chosen not to file for divorce.

Of course, the system could do much more than pry into the personal life of an individual she wished to inspect. A simple query could locate all the creatures that Panda controlled. There were twelve of them in the hallway alone—three mice in the walls, a housefly fleeing a maid, and eight ants creeping their way through the carpet. There were thousands more scattered throughout the castle grounds and millions within the city's limits. The sheer scale of his influence was absurd, near unfathomable even knowing his goal and the years he'd spent dedicating himself thereto.

Setting all thoughts of Panda aside, Claire floated across the castle's wings and snuck into Rubia's room. Headhydra immediately snapped to attention, but the silly lizard lowered its heads and closed its eyes as soon as they flashed with recognition.

Rubia, who had only just awakened, looked first at the imaginary pet before recognizing the source of its irritation. Eyes wide, she crawled out from under the blankets and pitter-pattered over to Claire's phantom.

Like their uncle, she could see her. Clearly as if she were real.

But of course she could. She too had inherited the phantom blood; it was precisely from it that the homunculus was born.

"Good morning," said Rubia. She tried to wrap her arms around her sister, but they fazed right through her.

"Good morning," said Claire. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very," she said with a smile. "Yesterday was fun."

Claire returned the grin with one of her own. "We might be able to sneak out again a little later in the day. I'll let you know, probably before dinner."

"Okay!"

Claire snapped back to her body as soon as she received the affirmation, in part because the conversation was over, and in part because she felt a sensation against her flesh. It wasn't unpleasant. If anything, the familiar weight was soothing. But that was all the more reason she felt the need to respond.

"What are you doing?"

She opened her eyes as soon as she regained control and looked at the fox. In her half-elven form, Sylvia had straddled her like a horse and proceeded to stare from an all-too-close distance with her face alight.

"N-nothing!" She tried to poof back into her smaller form, but Claire drained her mana and interrupted the process before it could even begin. "J-just checking if you were still asleep. I uhmmm, definitely wasn't staring just 'cause."

She did at least sit back up and climb off, albeit while blushing furiously.

"...Maybe it's time for you to get your own bed." Claire sighed.

"H-huh!?" Sylvia's eyes opened wide. "W-w-what!? Why!? C-come on, that's a bit of an overreaction, isn't it!? I was just staring and sniffing! I swear I wasn't actually going to do anything!"

"I was just kidding." Laughing, Claire pinched Sylvia's nose and sat up. "Stupid fox."

"What the heck! You nearly gave me a heart attack," huffed the vixen. "You can't just do that first thing in the morning!"

"Well I can, and I did."

Magically lifting the half-elf and setting her down on the bed, Claire quickly changed into a blouse and slipped into the common room. Chloe had been the only one there before sunrise, but Lana and Krail had joined her soon after. The former was lazing on the counter, her body half-sprawled on the only spot that got any light, while the latter was sitting on one of the couches with a newspaper in hand. It was The Weekly Wynst, a collection of articles written and distributed by the local elves.

It was full of exactly the sort of nonsense that one might've expected from the knife-eared group. At least half the pages were filled with articles and supposed exposés that outlined or reinforced the latest crockpot theories. The rest featured ads for people struggling to find romantic partners, biased reviews of local businesses, and when they couldn't find anything else to fill the pages, an occasional bit of actual news.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Though its target audience was clear, the newspaper's popularity was demographically agnostic. Many non-knife-ears viewed it as a source of satirical entertainment. Perhaps if it were, it might have been a stroke of genius. After all, who else but the elves could come up with headlines as ridiculous as, "Are Rocks Working for the Alliance?", "Swords, A Deadly Universal Delusion", and "Do NOT the Spider!!!" Granted, the final one made quite a bit of sense. They might not have been right to distrust the pantheon as a whole, but Vella was clearly suspicious and it only made sense to scrutinize her offers.

The party's resident elf, however, didn't scrutinize much of anything. Krail's face remained perfectly stern as he went through the paper. It didn't help that Chloe facilitated the behaviour; she slipped a drink and a meal in front of him without interrupting his reading. Claire was also long beyond the point of caring. She walked over and planted herself on a nearby couch without so much as bothering to comment. Nothing she could say would change his mind. She'd already tried. Hell, everyone had already tried, and he'd met two gods and a full village of celestials. If not even that was enough, nothing ever would be.

"Good morning, Claire." Chloe delivered breakfast—a full plate of proteins and tubers—as soon as she sat down. It was paired with a glass of mead, the alcohol content of which was just high enough to give it a notable kick.

"Good morning," said Claire. She scanned the room, just to make sure she hadn't missed any obvious signs before raising her voice again. "What's the plan today?"

"We're going to be pretty busy. We're going to open the portal and show your father Vel'khagan in the morning. We're scheduled to have lunch with him on the other side. There's a ball scheduled for the evening, and we're all expected to attend. It'll run until it's time for us to retire."

Claire frowned. "I never should've come back to Cadria."

"It's just the first day that'll be busy," said Chloe. "Arciel and I will still be swamped, but the rest of you should be free once we get over the hump."

"We'll still be busy," said Krail. "We'll need to study the local fighting styles if we want to come out on top."

"Busy is good," said Lana. "Slow days are boring."

"They aren't all bad," said the elf, as he finally put down his newspaper. "I've always loved a rainy day in, myself. Especially if it's spent in good company." He smiled a bit as he took a sip from his cup and leaned back into the couch. "And I'd say that this party of ours has proven to be just that."

A moment of silence followed the statement, with everyone looking in the elf's direction and not a word between them.

"Is there something on my face?" he asked, with a blink.

"I think it just seemed a bit weird for you to end it at that," said Chloe. "I think we were all expecting one of your usual stories."

"Were you?" The old elf took a moment to stroke his hairless chin. "I'd be happy to oblige, in that case. Though, there isn't anything that jumps out right away, which I suppose is a given, considering the nature of a relaxing day. The best one I have is an anecdote about my daughter. It's a curious tale, really, and one that began on a day not unlike this one."

"Hold on," said Chloe. "You have a daughter!?"

"Yes, did I not tell you?" The elf scratched the back of his head. "I have three, in fact. Three and a son."

"No wonder," said Lana.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" asked Chloe, before turning to the elf. "I swear this has to be my first time hearing about them."

"I do believe I've mentioned them a few times," said Krail, "though it might've just been to Jules. I can't recall."

"He's mentioned them once or twice in passing," said Claire. "I remember overhearing something."

"You'd think we would've heard more about them by now, considering how much he loves telling stories," said Chloe.

Krail smiled softly. "Most of my stories are related to my adventures, and none of them have quite tagged along."

"How old are they?" asked Chloe.

"The oldest of my daughters is in her seventies now," he said. "She's unascended and looks her age. I believe she retired a few years back." He lightly tapped his chin. "Her half-sisters are twenty and fifteen. My son is the second oldest, forty-two as of last week, if I'm remembering correctly. I had him with my fourth wife."

"That's just… all sorts of weird," muttered the maid. "How old did you say you were again?"

"Me? I'm a few years shy of 250," said Krail.

"Ancient," said Lana.

"I'm not that old," said the elf. "And besides, you've got a solid few years on your bones yourself."

"Only a few," said Lana. "I'm younger than your oldest."

"Really?" The elf opened his eyes wide. "I would've thought you were a hundred at least. You tend to be one of the most composed among us."

"Because of my sister," said Lana. "Myrians are paired. We share our experiences."

"Ah, yes, your racial property. I'd nearly forgotten about that, to be perfectly honest. I don't think it helps that I've never met your sister."

"You can. We can start going back soon."

Krail crossed his arms. "I'll drop by if I ever find a moment to spare. Preferably after my match."

"We still have to decide the order," said Claire.

"Ciel wants to hold off until we meet Cadria's fighters. We're not really sure if going from weak to strong is going to work. We might need some sort of other arrangement."

"What do you think, Claire?" asked Krail.

"I'm not sure. It's hard to say without knowing who we're up against."

"You don't? I would've assumed you had it figured out by now."

"Me too," said Lana.

Claire shook her head. "I've heard a few rumours, but nothing substantial. Sylvia probably knows more, just from all her snooping."

"Hey! That's mean!" said Sylvia, as she ventured out of their room with a yawn. "And I wasn't snooping, I was scouting!" Still in her elven form, she was barely dressed, wearing nothing but a plain white shirt meant for a centaur. It was large enough for the collar to slide off one shoulder and the hem to sit beneath her knees.

"Snooping, scouting, same thing," said the snoose. "You snuck around the castle and gathered information."

"Oh, shush." Sylvia plopped down right beside Claire, sitting close enough that their shoulders were touching before entrusting her with her weight.

"Good morning, Sylvia," said Chloe. She fetched another serving of breakfast and threw it on a plate with a few pieces of fish from the pantry. They were dried, but the fox wasn't about to complain.

"Good morning, Chloe," she said, sleepily. "And thanks."

"You're welcome." The maid grabbed another serving for herself and sat down next to Krail. "Where'd you get the shirt?"

"Rubia made it for me," she said, with a smile. "She gave it to me last night, after we got back from exploring the city."

"Awww, that's nice," said Chloe.

"Yeah. It's a bit oversized because she's used to how things look when she's in Claire's tail, but I kind of like it better this way. It's comfier."

"She did a good job," said Claire. "The fabric is high quality, and you can barely see the stitches."

"It's pretty," said Lana. Her ears and tail both perked up as she looked in the shirt's direction. "Is it silk?"

"Uhhhhh, I think so? It was like uhmmmm… Crying Silk or something."

"Kryddarian silk from a royal moth's cocoon," said Claire.

"Sounds expensive." Lana walked over and grabbed the hem to inspect the material before pausing and tilting her head. "Are you naked under this?"

"Yup!"

"Oh…" Lana slowly set the hem back down.

"Was I not supposed to be? I thought shirts were supposed to go over skin."

The wolf girl shook her head. "Lewd."

"What the heck!? I'm literally wearing clothes!"

"It's probably fine as long as you don't go outside like that," said Chloe, with a strained smile.

"Wait, so I am supposed to wear something else under this!? Why the heck didn't anyone tell me!?"

"Stupid fox," said Claire.

"It's not my fault! Foxes don't wear clothes, and Al always just threw his stuff on!"

"Has he ever worn nothing but a shirt?"

"He does it all the time in his milf form," said Sylvia.

"His what form!?" Chloe's eyes went wide.

"Of course you react to that."

"I didn't mean it like that!" cried the half-succubus.

As it so turned out, no one in attendance believed her.

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