Edel's Soap Opera (2)
Unexpected news arrived, plunging the old archmage Bellatel into despair.
"Damn it all!"
"Calm yourself, Bellatel."
"Hey, Owen! Do I look calm to you? The new spell I pulled an all-nighter for is useless now!"
"It's just this one chance we missed. There'll be another soon enough."
Owen soothed the agitated Bellatel because Barom Albert had unilaterally canceled today's invitation.
"This is strange. That Barom fellow was dying to see me."
"Indeed. He must have been anxious about a renowned archmage meeting his rival, Seymour Lady."
"Then why?"
Owen fell into thought at Bellatel's question.
Something seemed amiss on their side too.
"Who knows. Just guesses, nothing concrete. We have too little information."
"So, any ideas, Owen?"
"Planning to leave all the brainwork to me, oh wise archmage?"
"Good lord! You think I'm just some bookworm who only reads magic tomes? I'm useless at this stuff. People assume mages are good at everything—that's a misconception. Just mastering magic feels like my brain's about to explode."
Owen shrugged at Bellatel, who insisted he'd racked his brains enough last night.
"Understood. If they're playing it that way, we can't force our way in. Canceling means they're wary of us."
"Seems so. Not just postponed, but canceled outright. So, what's your plan?"
"In times like these, we should take a page from swordsmanship."
"Swordsmanship? First politics, now swords? You sure love spouting things I don't know."
"Hear me out. In swordplay, if your opponent's defense is tight, how do you break it?"
"No idea. Without you telling me, I'd never know in my lifetime."
"Simple. You deliberately show an opening or feint an attack to draw out their reaction. Then you exploit it with a counter."
Seeing Bellatel didn't quite get it, Owen stood and demonstrated himself.
"For example, if you fake a head strike like this, they'll panic and guard up top. But it's a ruse. With their sword raised, the bottom's exposed—just what you want. Stab the gut in that gap. Easy, right?"
"Ah, it's like mage duels in a way."
"Exactly. The key is provoking their move, and predicting it."
"So?"
"Let's make them anxious first. Force them to rack their brains over our intentions. Some reaction will follow."
"What if it's something we can't predict?"
"Then they're a step ahead of us."
"Aha!"
From that day on, Owen and Bellatel frequented Seymour Lady's house without shame.
They openly did things that would terrify the dark elves if word got out.
Bellatel, in particular, bought up massive quantities of magic reagents like sulfur, crystal orbs, and fairy wings through Seymour Lady.
All highly effective against dark elves.
Sulfur for illumination spells, crystal orbs for detection magic, fairy wings for fairy fire that made hidden foes glow.
Fatal to dark elves who ambushed from shadows—they had no choice but to panic.
The widow Hanna indeed spent her days in agony upon hearing the rumors.
Yet she stayed cautious, avoiding rash moves—until something shook her resolve.
"What? That mage is seeking a Kalotes Dragon rider?"
Hanna bit her lip at her dark elf subordinate's report.
"Yes, it's definitely true."
"They've caught on and are gearing up to fight us."
Kalotes Dragons were natural predators to dark elves.
Enveloped in splendid green scales, they had senses immune even to magic deception.
Their mobility outclassed dark elves too.
Originally obscure small dragons, Duke Glendower had popularized them en masse.
His past massacres of dark elves atop Kalotes Dragons were pure trauma for them.
"Five Kalotes Dragons, and we're wiped out."
"Lady Brasiana."
"It's Hanna now. Watch it, you fool!"
"Sorry, Lady Hanna. Kalotes are rare. They won't get five."
"You don't know that. That mage was Duke Glendower's friend. If he's saying it, he has a way."
"Still just watch? The big announcement is tomorrow..."
Garen's faction had a major reveal planned.
A bombshell: the Albert family would surrender their fief to become imperial direct territory.
"Hmph... Move rashly first, and we get hit."
Cleverly, Hanna didn't play into Owen's hands easily.
But the tide favored Owen.
"Lady Hanna, word is the archmage will attend the announcement."
"What! We didn't invite him!"
"True, but he's accompanying Seymour Lady at her request."
"This is family business!"
"And today, Seymour Lady hired Bellatel as the family's consultant mage."
"What a forced setup! Damn them!"
Their intent was clear: sabotage the announcement.
If they exposed Hanna's identity mid-event with magic, chaos would erupt.
All their groundwork wasted.
"That damned old hag!"
"Lady Hanna, why not postpone?"
"Can't. We've promised the human emperor a date. Delaying would anger him."
Hanna wondered why everything was going wrong.
She'd thought crushing Seymour Lady's faction would seal it all.
Then this hermit archmage pops up.
Absurd, unbelievable.
Of course, it stemmed from her dark elf mercenaries' plundering in the capital, but Hanna didn't know that.
The mercenaries, fat with loot, kept quiet.
"Guess we have to make a move..."
No choice now.
The announcement had to succeed.
She couldn't let this surprise mage ruin it.
"Call the mercenaries."
Soon, the dark elf mercenaries arrived.
These killers of over a hundred Seymour Lady's men days ago looked uniformly menacing.
Magical tattoos covered faces and bodies, crude scars stitched everywhere.
Hanna frowned at them.
Compared to her scheming kind, these mercenary dark elves seemed vulgar and brash.
"Why summon lowly us again?"
One mercenary, knowing her disdain, spoke bitterly.
Their leader: Gerenius.
"Even bloodstained tools like you have uses."
"Harsh words."
"Shut up and do as told."
Proud warrior Gerenius felt insulted but complied.
The dark elf disguised as Hanna held high rank in the queen's direct agency.
She oversaw eastern dukes even.
A mere warrior had no choice.
"What do you require?"
"Simple. Bury one mage quietly."
Thus, Hanna resolved to eliminate Bellatel before the announcement.
She preferred avoiding excess, but he couldn't be allowed to interfere.
"A human mage... Not difficult."
"Be cautious, Gerenius. Bellatel's called an archmage."
"By human standards. He's not even 200. My men all learned magic before he was born."
"Wahahaha!"
Laughter erupted around them.
Dark elves outmatched humans through longer lives and training.
Hence their contempt.
But Hanna stayed wary.
"It's not just magic practice. He's a genius. Training time means nothing against genius."
"Understood. But no worries. Just one guy? We're 32 strong. Ten would suffice; he's dead meat."
"Send twenty or more. That's an order."
"Fine. If you doubt us that much."
"Think they'll attack?"
Owen nodded at Bellatel's question.
"High chance. We've rattled them. With the announcement tomorrow, they'll act."
"If not?"
"Not bad either. We go to the venue as planned. Chance to test that all-nighter spell."
"Good. Let's prepare and wait."
They'd bought an empty house on the city outskirts days ago.
Staying at an inn risked harming the owner.
Plus, the empty house suited traps and setups.
"Since we're at it, hope the guests arrive. I put a ton of work into these contraptions."
Owen figured Bellatel's efforts would pay off this time.
"They'll underestimate us as two. Or rather, me as a mere squire, so target one."
"They'll be shocked. Finding the squire they ignored has two dragons."
Bellatel was still impressed by Grenville from before.
Even knowing they'd face multiple dark elves, he brimmed with confidence.
"Announcement tomorrow, so tonight."
They slept by day, preparing for night battle.
At sunset, Owen summoned his murish dragon, Hyper.
"Kyaek!"
The calf-sized dragon appearing indoors fascinated Bellatel.
"This one can detect dark elves approaching even in pitch black?"
"Of course. Dragons collect scent particles via special palate organs."
They skipped extra detection spells nearby.
To lull cautious dark elves into complacency.
A dragon's tongue sufficed for early warning.
Unaware of dragons, the attackers were doomed.
"Hyper's range is shorter than Grenville's, but indoors, no choice. Grenville for the real fight."
"Got it. Capturing several dark elves would be ideal. Tilt things hugely our way."
Night fell; Owen doused all lights, cracked a window, had Hyper sniff periodically.
Flick, flick.
Sensory sharing sent Hyper's intel straight to Owen.
Just dozens of meters radius, but enough.
Hyper's night vision let Owen pierce the dark too.
"Good work, Hyper."
Petting its jaw with food, Hyper replied proudly.
"Kyaek!"
Tedious wait followed.
They stayed silent. Hours later, still Hyper twitched.
"Kyak."
A group approaching silently, forty meters out.
"They're here."
Hyper flicked busily for details.
Smaller tongue and less developed palate than Grenville meant fuzzier info.
But Owen focused, counted them.
"Twenty-two. Quite a force. Hyper, guard Bellatel."
"Kaat!"
Familiarity risen, Hyper understood better now.
As it went to Bellatel, Owen drew a new dragon scroll from his belt.
Grenville's—the nightmare for tonight's dark elves.
Darkness wasn't kind only to dark elves.
Dragons in the dark were far scarier.