Just as tension threatened to escalate beyond the point of containment, a commanding voice cut through the charged atmosphere.
"Cease this, gentlemen. This is Great Britain."
King George VII stepped forward, his regal bearing making clear he wouldn't tolerate a brawl between two Master-level Lore Cardians within his palace walls. While he understood the historical friction between the Indo-American Federation and the Empire of Aetherlight, he hadn't anticipated such immediate hostility.
Apache's pointed remarks suggested deeper grievances at play.
Unfortunately for the King, neither party seemed inclined to grant him the courtesy of de-escalation. Azrael had already shown remarkable restraint by not directly retaliating after Apache's provocations about the Skinner. Now the brown-skinned Master dropped his artificial smile entirely, staring at Azrael with cold, empty eyes.
King George VII's expression hardened. He opened his mouth to issue a command, then suddenly raised his hand to cover his nose, glancing sharply at one of the attending servants.
The servant blanched with terror.
Under the somewhat bewildered gazes of Azrael and Apache, King George VII addressed the other servant with barely restrained irritation. "Take him away. Now."
Both servants vanished from the Master-level Lore Cardians' sight with impressive haste. The bizarre interruption, however, inadvertently defused some of the dangerous tension crackling through the air.
Apache's smile returned like a mask sliding back into place. "Don't be nervous. I won't act without Lord Edley's permission."
"Tsk." Azrael's lip curled in disdain, but he held his tongue. Since Apache had invoked Edley's name, he wouldn't press further, at least not here and now. If violence became necessary, he'd choose a more private setting.
Though confident he could handle both Apache and King George VII simultaneously if needed, Azrael considered it a courtesy to the King to avoid causing an international incident on British soil. Besides, he wasn't some righteous hero, and he bore no historical grudge against Great Britain that warranted such recklessness.
With this calculation made, Azrael ignored Apache entirely and addressed King George VII. "Your Majesty, please lead us to the conference hall. We have business to discuss."
Watching the atmosphere gradually stabilize, King George VII's expression brightened with visible relief. He'd already been mentally preparing evacuation protocols for his people, after all, a clash between two Masters would devastate a significant radius, let alone with someone of Azrael's exceptional capabilities involved.
Fortunately, bloodshed had been averted.
King George VII turned and assumed the role of guide despite his royal status. "Please, both of you. This way."
Following his lead, the designated conference hall soon came into view. What caught Azrael's attention was Great Britain's preference for austere stone construction, the entire hall appeared carved from solid rock, even sporting patches of moss in the corners and crevices.
Each nation had its own aesthetic preferences, Azrael supposed. Perhaps Great Britain simply favored this primitive, ancient style reminiscent of castle fortresses.
Suppressing his curiosity, Azrael followed King George VII into the conference chamber. Once all three had taken their designated seats, the King, as host, opened the proceedings.
"First, I would like to thank both the Empire of Aetherlight and the Indo-American Federation for your willingness to assist Great Britain in these troubled times." King George VII's voice carried appropriate gravitas. "You will be remembered as Great Britain's eternal friends."
The superficial pleasantries were necessary for diplomatic protocol, though none of the three men present believed a word about "eternal friendship." International relations were built on mutual benefit, not sentiment.
After the obligatory courtesies, King George VII cut to the heart of the matter. "There are currently three Master-level secret realms manifesting on British territory. I hope you can help suppress them all."
Having decided to accept foreign assistance, he naturally wanted a comprehensive solution. Leaving even one secret realm active simply to save on compensation would be shortsighted foolishness.
After stating his requirements, George VII fell silent, his gaze moving between Azrael and Apache, clearly waiting for their terms.
Azrael found himself at a tactical disadvantage in this negotiation, he lacked detailed intelligence on Apache's true capabilities, while Apache undoubtedly possessed considerable information about him from the Skinner incident. If Apache could single-handedly suppress multiple secret realms as Azrael could, his negotiating position would be significantly constrained.
That scenario seemed unlikely, however.
After a calculated pause, Apache spoke first, his smile never wavering. "I only require one set of Master-level materials."
King George VII's eyebrows rose at this unexpectedly modest request. It wasn't too high, rather, it was surprisingly low.
He turned expectantly toward Azrael, eager to hear the Empire's terms.
Meeting the King's gaze, Azrael remained expressionless as he considered his position. Apache's move had deliberately limited the ceiling for compensation, a petty maneuver designed to undermine the Empire's negotiating leverage.
The young Master was now certain that the Indo-American Federation's agreement to assist Great Britain wasn't primarily motivated by profit. Part of their motivation was simply to antagonize him personally.
'So the Skinner, Sakaga, is even more important than our intelligence suggested.' The fact that Edley had personally interceded to secure her release clearly indicated she held a high position within the Federation hierarchy. Considering the current circumstances with her brother present, her identity was likely even more complex than initially assessed.
King George VII naturally sensed the underlying tension. Though his expression remained carefully neutral, he secretly hoped Azrael and Apache would negotiate as competitively as possible, after all, that would serve Great Britain's interests best.
Unfortunately, Azrael had no intention of playing such games.
"I can suppress them alone," he stated simply.
Apache's expression froze. Azrael's meaning was crystal clear, he didn't need the Indo-American Federation's assistance whatsoever.
If his claim proved true, Great Britain would undoubtedly eliminate the Indo-American Federation's compensation entirely, saving considerable resources.
King George VII, having clearly processed this implication, ceased his calculated silence and spoke with deliberate gravity. "Lord Azrael, this is not a matter for jest."
His intelligence on Azrael was necessarily limited due to the vast distance between Great Britain and the Empire. The King knew Azrael had expelled a Sovereign-level demon and successfully endured one minute against [Golden Emperor] Motian. While these achievements were undeniably impressive, they involved specific tactics, expulsion and sealing were desperate measures employed when conventional victory proved impossible.
As for surviving one minute against Motian, George VII couldn't make a definitive assessment without knowing the specific circumstances. Therefore, while Azrael's claimed victory over Thaksin was noteworthy, claiming he could single-handedly suppress every Master-level secret realm on British soil seemed presumptuous.
Despite these private reservations, George VII showed no overt distrust. He simply shook his head slightly. "I appreciate Lord Azrael's confidence, but that would be unnecessarily taxing for you. And I cannot allow Lord Apache's journey to be wasted."
The King paused, clearly weighing his options, then continued. "How about this, Lord Azrael, after the task is complete, both you and Lord Apache may select six Master-level materials from Great Britain's treasury. Does this arrangement suit you both?"
King George VII had chosen to offend neither party. Honestly, even if he believed Azrael's claim, he would have made the same decision. Great Britain, currently struggling through a vulnerable transitional period, could only survive by maintaining careful diplomatic balance.
Apache showed no reaction to the increased compensation, his attention remained fixated on Azrael with barely concealed intensity. As Sakaga's brother, he naturally understood more about the Four Scourges' invasion attempt than most. Lord Edley's decision to back down had been entirely due to the Supreme Mecha God suppressing the Sovereign-level secret realm in Antarctica. Otherwise, a mere Master-level Lore Cardian wouldn't have warranted such restraint.
Apache felt his lord was simply too soft-hearted. Antarctic affairs weren't the Federation's concern. If something truly catastrophic arose there, wouldn't the other Sovereign-level Lore Cardians across Earth respond?
The brown-skinned man glanced at Azrael, his lip curling with subtle disdain. Clearly, neither King George VII nor Apache knew what had truly transpired within the rebel secret realm, otherwise, they wouldn't entertain such dismissive thoughts.
Azrael, hearing King George VII's compromise proposal, agreed without much hesitation. "Very well."
"I'll do what I'm paid for," was his current philosophy. He was essentially a mercenary contractor, if his employer chose this arrangement, he wouldn't waste energy arguing. Azrael would naturally fulfill his obligations, but King George VII's doubt meant he wouldn't go beyond the stated terms.
Seeing both the Empire and the Federation had accepted his proposal, King George VII breathed an internal sigh of relief. All that remained was eliminating the three Master-level secret realms within British borders, and the kingdom could finally begin recovery.
With this hopeful thought, he spoke solemnly. "Then I must trouble you both for the difficult work ahead."
"Your Majesty is too kind," Azrael replied with diplomatic courtesy.
The deal concluded, Azrael returned to his assigned lodgings to prepare for the upcoming battles.
That night, as Azrael settled into meditation with his eyes closed, a foreign presence suddenly jolted him to full alertness.
"Who?!"
Before he'd finished speaking, a graceful female figure materialized within the room's shadows. Azrael's eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized the intruder. "Who are you?"
Then recognition clicked. "Charlotte?"
He identified the newcomer as Princess Charlotte, currently competing with Leon for succession and backed by Apache. A calculating expression crossed Azrael's features. "Why would Your Highness visit so late?"
Seeing her identity exposed immediately, Charlotte removed her concealing hood without pretense. Perhaps she'd never truly intended to hide her identity in the first place.
In response to Azrael's question, Charlotte bent her swan-like neck in a respectful bow. "Your Majesty, may I inquire what promises my brother Leon has made to secure your support?"
A moment of silence filled the room before Azrael's voice rang out again, deliberately provocative.
"Everything."
Charlotte's expression remained perfectly controlled, as though discussing mundane weather rather than treasonous implications. "Your Majesty, you know that's unrealistic. After all, my brother doesn't possess the authority to deliver such promises. And His Majesty George VII still lives."
Azrael had naturally understood this truth. He'd simply wanted to gauge her reaction and measure her political acumen. "Interesting. So what brings you to me, Princess?"
"Your Majesty, I hope you'll withdraw your support from my foolish brother." Charlotte raised her head, staring intently at Azrael with unwavering eyes. "I know about the material exchange agreement between the Empire and Tsarist Russia. If I become crown prince, Great Britain can establish similar trade relations with the Empire of Aetherlight."
She paused deliberately, then added with careful precision, "Of course, I only require that you cease supporting my brother, not that you actively support me."
Hearing this, Azrael felt genuine surprise. He hadn't expected Charlotte to have established intelligence networks not only within the Indo-American Federation but also regarding Tsarist Russia's confidential agreements. In every measurable way, the princess proved herself far more capable than Leon.
The room fell into contemplative silence once more. Observing Azrael's lack of immediate response, Charlotte apparently decided her initial offer wasn't sufficiently enticing. After brief consideration, she continued.
"Your Majesty, I'm aware of the strained relationship between the Empire and the Indo-American Federation." Her tone remained carefully measured. "While I cannot directly assist you against them, I can offer you something equally valuable."
She met his eyes directly. "I can tell you anything you want to know, anything within my knowledge."
Azrael raised an eyebrow with casual interest. "Even if I wanted to know Apache's card abilities?"
For any Lore Cardian, detailed knowledge of an opponent's cards represented paramount strategic advantage. Sometimes even minor discrepancies in intelligence could determine battle outcomes entirely.
Hearing Azrael's pointed question, Charlotte hesitated only briefly before responding with surprising calm. "Yes. But Lord Apache is my elder, so..." She trailed off meaningfully.
It'll cost extra, the unspoken implication hung in the air.
Azrael could barely contain his amusement. He regarded Charlotte with renewed interest. "What exactly do you want me to do in exchange?"
"Don't worry, Your Majesty. It's quite simple." Charlotte shook her head slightly, her composure never wavering. "I simply need your support when the situation demands it."
Just as King George VII hadn't placed all his hopes in a single foreign power when seeking assistance, Charlotte refused to become a mere puppet of the Indo-American Federation after securing the crown. Therefore, the Empire of Aetherlight, already antagonistic toward the Federation, naturally entered her strategic calculations.
This calculation had brought her to Azrael tonight. Charlotte was gambling on Azrael's interest in intelligence regarding the Indo-American Federation.
Azrael naturally understood Charlotte's strategic thinking, so he responded noncommittally. "Your calculations are quite thorough."
Then he fell silent, leaving Charlotte uncertain of his intentions. Though she'd prepared herself for rejection, disappointment still welled up within her.
A long moment passed before Azrael spoke again, his tone carefully neutral.
"Let's discuss the Indo-American Federation first." He paused deliberately. "But if the information proves trivial or worthless, forget this entire conversation."
Hearing this conditional acceptance, Charlotte's expression brightened with barely concealed delight, the matter was essentially settled. "Yes, Your Majesty. I'll tell you everything I know about the Federation."