Chapter 179: Alliance

The heavy iron doors swung open with a loud thud that shook the floor.

Guards shoved Viona and Leon into the grand hall. Behind them, the summoned heroes immediately fell to their knees, too terrified to look up. The air in the room was heavy and freezing cold.

At the far end of the room, sitting on a high throne made of giant dragon bones, was Emperor Varos.

His blood-red eyes stared down at them like a wolf watching trapped sheep. Standing on both sides of the stairs were the Ten Iron Fangs, the ten strongest killers in the empire.

General Keith leaned on his massive jagged sword, grinning with cruel joy. Grand Inquisitor Morzan stood still behind his iron skull mask, holding a dark coral staff. Lady Seraphina adjusted her silk gloves, looking at Viona’s dirty clothes with pure disgust. Arch-Magus Jarek stood with a notebook and pen ready.

"So," Emperor Varos said, his deep voice filling the hall. "This is the goddess who ran away."

Viona forced herself to stand tall, even though the heavy iron chains weighed her down.

"Varos," Viona said, looking him in the eye. "I did not come here to be put in chains. I came to warn you about a dangerous enemy. If we do not work together, you will be next."

SMACK!

General Keith moved in a blur.

His heavy armored hand slammed right across Viona’s cheek.

The hit sent her flying to the hard floor. Her lip tore open, and blood splashed across the black stone.

"Know your place, woman," Keith snarled, towering over her with his hand on his sword. "You are in Wallachia now. You don’t call the Emperor by his name, and you don’t give orders. You’re just a loser whose army got wiped out."

Leon didn’t reach for a weapon. He dropped to one knee, putting his body between Keith and Viona.

"General Keith," Leon said in a calm, steady voice. "If you wanted to kill us, your guards would have left us in the snow outside. You brought us to the Emperor because you need what we know."

Varos raised a single finger from his throne.

Keith grunted and stepped back into the line of commanders, his eyes still glaring at Leon.

"Speak, mercenary," Varos said, resting his chin on his fist. "Give me a reason not to feed you both to the war-beasts."

Leon helped Viona off the floor. She wiped the blood from her mouth, her golden eyes burning with anger, but she kept quiet this time.

"Because the Americans are not an enemy you can beat with normal war," Leon said, looking straight at the Emperor. "Your scouts probably saw what happened on the roads. But they only saw the smoke. Viona and I were right there when the metal fell from the sky."

Arch-Magus Jarek stepped forward, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"The reports say their flying machines have no mana," Jarek said, his voice curious. "They say these machines strike from high in the clouds, beyond what eyes can see. How do they aim without magic?"

"Heat," Viona said, her voice shaking with anger.

The commanders turned their eyes toward her.

"They don’t look for banners or armor," Viona explained, gripping her chained hands together. "Their glass eyes see the warmth of living bodies. They see your breath, the sweat on your horses, and a mage charging a spell. When you stand on a cold road, you shine like a torch on their eyes."

Grand Inquisitor Morzan hissed from behind his skull mask. "A weapon that hunts body heat... how nasty."

"And what about their bombs?" Harkon Stonebreaker asked, crossing his thick arms. "Twelve thousand soldiers were turned to meat in seconds. Was that an explosion spell?"

"No magic," Leon replied. "It is chemical powder packed inside heavy iron tubes. The tubes fall fast, punch through enchanted shields using pure speed and weight, and then blow apart into thousands of flying steel needles. If you make a tight shield wall, you just make a bigger target for them."

"And what of Ignisrax?" Varos asked, his red eyes narrowing. "You broke the seal on the Red Dragon. You sent him to their harbor. Why did he die?"

Viona looked down at the stone floor. Her shoulders slumped as the shame returned.

"He died because their machines don’t care about monsters," she whispered, her voice cracking. "When he flew over the water, their gray boats shot thousands of spinning iron rods at him in seconds. Their beach launchers shot explosive darts that broke his wings. Then, two green flying machines hovered right over him and chewed his skull apart with repeating cannons until his head fell off."

She looked back up at Varos, desperate for him to understand.

"They killed an ancient dragon in ten minutes, Varos! Ten minutes! If you march your soldiers down the mountain, they will bomb your legions before your men even see an American face! You cannot fight them under the open sky!"

The room went dead quiet.

The Ten Iron Fangs looked at each other. Even Keith stopped grinning. The thought of an army that could kill a dragon in ten minutes without magic made them realize what kind of enemy was sitting south of the mountains.

Then, Emperor Varos laughed.

It was a low, cruel sound that bounced off the dark walls.

"Do you think we are stupid, Viona?" Varos asked, slowly standing up from his bone throne.

He walked down the stairs, his heavy black cape trailing behind him. He stopped a few steps away, looking down at the beaten goddess and the scarred mercenary.

"You lost because you are a Solarian," Varos said coldly. "You relied on the foolish idea that your holy blood made you untouchable. You marched your shiny soldiers like bright targets under the open sky."

He put his hand on the hilt of his black dagger.

"Wallachia does not live under the sun. We live in the dark caves. Our power is not in open fields. It is in the deep earth, the subterranean tunnels, and the blood beneath the rock."

He looked at Leon.

"You came here hoping we would march south and fight your war for you," Varos said.

"Not fight for us, Sire," Leon answered, bowing his head slightly. "A trade. We give you our knowledge of their weapons, their officers, and the summoned heroes who speak their language. In return, you let us live, and you give us troops to fight the Demon Lord once the Americans are dealt with."

Varos stayed quiet for a long moment, thinking over the deal. The whole room waited for his word.

"Fine," Varos said, turning around. "You will live, mercenary. And you, Viona, will give advice to my commanders."

He waved his hand at the guards.

"Take off the chains. Put them in the inner rooms under heavy guard. If they try to step outside without permission, cut off their feet."

The guards stepped up and unlocked the iron cuffs. Viona rubbed her bruised wrists, taking a deep breath as the heavy suppression lifted from her body, though she was still far too weak to fight.

"What about the Americans, Sire?" Keith asked, his voice eager. "Do we attack from underground now?"

Varos stopped on the stairs and looked back, a wicked smile on his scarred face.

"No," the Emperor said softly. "We wait. Let John Smith sit in Port Solis. Let his men celebrate their easy victory over a dead dragon. Let them think the whole continent gave up."

He looked at his ten commanders.

"Get the tunnels ready. Breed the giant digging beasts. Put blood-traps in the underground paths. When the heavy winter snows cover the mountains and the blizzards blind their flying machines, we will bring the fight beneath their feet."

Varos turned back toward his throne.

"The Americans own the sky for now," the Emperor said with a dark laugh. "But the earth belongs to Wallachia. And we will bury them in it."