Archer watched the two men stiffen at his words, but the pope jumped up, accusing him in a voice full of venom. ''How dare you come here and brag about abducting a princess of the empire! You beast!''

The women behind him got angry as Aisha barked. ''Shut it, old man! We're here because you need a ceasefire due to the Long Winter. Take that venom out of your mouth and think about your next words.''

''Calm down, Jeremiah,'' Anatoly quietened the old man. ''We're here to broker a ceasefire so we can focus on the weather; either hold your tongue or leave.''

Archer noticed the pope bristle with anger but slowly nodded as the emperor turned to him and held out a hand. ''I know we're enemies, I've never met you in person. I'm Anatoly Novgorod.''

He took the gesture, grinning. ''Archer Wyldheart.''

''Would you like something to eat? There's a nearby inn I prepared for our talk,'' the older man said.

''Alright, let's get this over with before the weather worsens,'' Archer replied.

The group followed Anatoly as the older man's guards flanked them tightly, mirroring the Oathkeepers. Back at the ship, the Imperial Guard stood watch alongside Teuila, Demetra, Kassandra, and Elara; their presence kept anyone from doing something stupid and causing a battle to erupt in the port.

Aisha and Yevdokiya stayed close to Archer as they approached the inn, its unassuming facade masking the weight of the moment. Stepping inside, they were greeted by a deceptively ordinary scene, a tavern, its tables and flickering hearth betraying nothing of the high-stakes talks about to unfold.

Archer led the two women to a sturdy table tucked in the corner, scarred from years of use but polished enough to reflect the glow of the lights. Anatoly and Jeremiah slid into seats across from them, their guards and the Oathkeepers forming a watchful perimeter, eyes scanning the room.

The air was thick with tension, each side sizing the other up, the faint clink of glasses and murmur of other patrons doing little to ease the suspicion, but the people were ushered out so they couldn't overhear anything. He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, relaxed but his gaze missing nothing.

Aisha sat to his right, her sharp eyes darting between the enemy leaders, while Yevdokiya, to his left. Before anyone could break the silence, the inn's owner bustled over, a burly man with a forced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Behind him, two servers carried trays of steaming dishes: platters of roasted monster meats.

There were bowls of creamy potato stew, crusty loaves still warm from the oven, and a spread of pickled vegetables. A jug of ale and spiced wine followed, the clatter of plates and clink of tankards momentarily disrupting the tension. ''Compliments of the house,'' the owner said gruffly, his eyes flickering toward him. ''For such esteemed guests.''

Archer's lips twitched into a faint, knowing smirk. ''Generous,'' he drawled, his tone laced with just enough mockery to make Anatoly's jaw tighten.

He leaned forward, picking up a piece of bread and tearing it, his eyes never leaving the enemy leaders. ''Now, let's eat and talk. I'm sure you have plenty to say, considering how you wanted this meeting.''

His words hung in the air as he gestured for the others to dig in, all while plotting his next move in the game that only he seemed to fully understand. The clatter of plates and the faint aroma of roasted venison filled the air as the group began to eat, though the tension around the table remained.

Anatoly, his grey hair catching the lantern light, set down his tankard with a thud, his face hardening as he leaned forward. ''Archer,'' he began, his voice low but firm. ''We've bled enough in this war. I propose a ceasefire, effective immediately, lasting until the Long Winter ends. Let's give our people a chance to survive the cold without swords at their throats.''

The room seemed to hold its breath. Aisha's gaze narrowed, her fork pausing mid-air, while Yevdokiya's gaze flicked to him. The Oathkeepers and guards shifted, hands resting near weapons. Archer, however, merely took a slow sip of spiced wine, his expression unreadable, though a glint of amusement danced in his eyes.

He set the glass down with a soft clink and nodded, the gesture almost too casual, as if he'd anticipated this moment from the start. ''A ceasefire,'' Archer mused, his voice smooth as velvet. ''A reasonable request, Anatoly, given how your forces are crumbling under the weight of your own ambition.''

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his smirk sharp enough to cut. ''But nothing comes free. If you want peace through the Long Winter, I demand access to Verdantia's, full access to your ports and markets. It will benefit both sides if trade starts.''

Anatoly's face lit up, but Archer wasn't finished. ''And one more thing,'' he continued, his tone growing colder. ''The Church of Light stays on Verdantia. No missionaries, no outposts, no creeping beyond your borders. They remain on your soil, or this ceasefire is nothing but words on the wind. That's the cost. Take it, or we'll see how many more of your men freeze before spring.''

''Why do you want to trade with us?'' the emperor questioned.

''Trade makes the world go around,'' Archer answered. ''I have food that your realm needs, and you have resources we need. If there's to be a ceasefire, we'd better put in place a plan to prevent skirmishes.''

''What do you propose?'' the older man asked, a curious glint in his tired eyes.

''Draconia will guard the trade routes from pirates and other outlaws, but we should be able to rest in any port of Verdantia in case any storms hit the sea,'' he revealed.

When Aisha heard this, a confused expression crossed her face as he spoke in her mind. 'I'll explain later, my love. Hopefully, he accepts such terms.'

Following that, Archer started eating some of the delicious monster meat as Anatoly thought to himself. The pope finally spoke up, clearly angry. ''The church cannot be banned! It helps millions of people across all the continents.''

''No, it does not,'' Aisha answered. ''It corrupts innocent citizens, turning them into zealots for a Dark God parading as a good one.''

When Jeremiah heard this, his old eyes widened in shock as some of the Church Knights reacted, unsheathing their weapons, but all of a sudden, everything fell silent when several creatures lunged at the enemy, decapitating them with a swipe of their vicious claws, causing the inn to grow quiet.

Archer and the two women watched as a Creeper appeared on the ceiling, hanging there with one of the human heads. This freaked his girls out, but he sent them back to the Domain after thanking the Necromancer sisters. Morena's silky voice echoed in his mind. 'You're welcome, handsome.'

Following that, the pope was shocked, but Anatoly jumped up, announcing his decision. ''I accept! But on one condition?''

''And that is?''

''Look after Yevdokiya, I failed at being a father and couldn't protect her from the Terravians,'' the older man revealed.

''Oh, they don't come near me anymore,'' Archer responded, chuckling. ''She'll be safe on Draconia.''

Anatoly nodded and held out his hand once again. ''Thank you for accepting the ceasefire, my people were tired, hungry, and fed up with the war.''

''I was just getting started, but a couple of years' break will help me relax,'' he said, thinking about all the plans his going to enact once peace settles over the land.

''Is it true that you have delicious bread? Many spies spoke of Draconian food, swearing on everything that it was the best stuff they've ever eaten?'' the emperor questioned.

''I'll send some for you on the first ship,'' Archer replied, eating some bread, but it wasn't as good as his. ''I'll drop the Death Mist so your ships can enter Draconia.''

''Once I'm back at the capital, I'll get the government moving,'' Anatoly informed. ''Trade can begin in days.''

While they spoke, the two women smiled as Jeremiah fumed. He suddenly stood up and exclaimed. ''If the church isn't welcome, we won't participate in such trade.''

''Oh shut up, Jeremiah,'' Archer snapped at the old man. ''You've been looked over, after all, you're the reason this war started all those years ago.''

The pope looked shocked at this, but he continued. ''Sending Dragon Hunters after me, assassins, and many other people. Now shut up before I destroy your church.''

When the emperor heard this, he snapped at Jeremiah. ''Stop with your vile words, my people need peace and won't fall foul to your sweet talk anymore. Billions of dead, we've lost half the world, and you still want to insult him? Grow up.''

Archer chuckled at this. ''Don't worry, Anatoly, the old man and his corrupted church won't bother me any longer. The Dragonheart Faith is spreading across Thrylos and teaches people the basics of being a good person.''

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