Ben, no, Tzarek, stretched his arms with a grunt, the creak of muscle and bone louder than it should've been. "Two years, and I still hate how big this body is. Throws off my center of gravity every damn time."
His voice change to his usual tone.
Across the bench, Elvira crossed her legs with a huff, her expression locked in a scowl.
Ben glanced at her and smirked. "Still sulking?"
She shot him a glare, but he continued anyway. "Look, I know you hate these people. Trust me, I don't enjoy kissing up to murder-happy warlords either. But we've built a massive army now, and the stronger our enemies get, the more we need insurance."
Elvira didn't answer. She didn't need to. He knew the reasons she hadn't stormed off in rage yet. Knew that staying close, especially after everything with the Magus, had become more than just strategy. She never said it, but she didn't have to.
"I get it," Ben added, softer. "But staying together keeps us alive."
Then she sighed. "We spent a year forging an army. Another two clawing our way up through these ranks. And now?"
Her gaze turned distant. "Now we're still trying for scraps of power under people I'd rather burn."
Ben leaned back, arms behind his head. "It's almost over. With today's win, I control a full battalion now."
Elvira's brow twitched. "That'll let you challenge a city lord."
"Exactly," Ben nodded. "And after that, we don't play by their rules anymore. We make our own." He cracked his knuckles. "No more backroom politics. No more waiting. We'll be in striking range of the capital."
The Nephirid valued strength, but it had to be demonstrated through sanctioned duels and rites. Every challenge had to be recorded, officiated, approved by their blood-stamped councils.
Ben exhaled. "One more push. Then we take it all."
City States made up the Nephirid kingdom, each a self-governed war bastion ruled by a Warlord, surrounded by sworn generals. These cities formed loose alliances with one another, bound by fear and opportunism. But there was no true loyalty.
If a ruler grew weak, their allies turned on them. If a general showed ambition, they were watched like vipers in the dark.
To conquer the Nephirid, brute force alone was suicide. You couldn't march in and burn them down, not without raising every other city in retaliation. But Ben didn't need to burn them all.
He just needed one. Their plan was simple… and slow.
Elvira and Ben had spent two years planting themselves deep within the ranks of Krahal-Zir, a mid-tier city. It wasn't the largest, but its location near the capital made it strategic. And more importantly, it had enemies on all sides.
Enemies Ben could use.
By rising through the ranks through official channels, Ben, disguised as Tzarek earned the command of a battalion. That wasn't just troops.
It was influence. He was no longer just another nephirid warriors. He was someone the Warlords had to acknowledge.
He'd make them kneel.
The next step was already in motion. A hidden ruin beneath the city had been repurposed as a forward base. The Krell, now blend in with Nephirid forces had taken control of its lower chambers. Elvira's illusion arrays disguised the true nature of the fortifications.
Soon, when the time was right, Ben would call for the Right of Flame and Bone against Krahal-Zir's city-lord. A challenge he was now eligible to issue.
Ben leaned back in his chair, gaze flicking toward the ceiling as if he could already see the capital from here.
"If I win, the city's mine. And once that happens…" he tapped the table twice, "we start building the teleportation circle. No more crawling through layers. We bring the fight straight to their capital."
Elvira's eyes narrowed. "It'll take absurd amounts of mana. Even with the crystals we've mined, we'll need precise tuning. One mistake and we end up vaporizing the city instead of teleporting it."
Ben shrugged. "Then we don't make mistakes." He turned toward her. "How's Draeven's and slark's side?"
Elvira scoffed. "No updates yet. But I hate to admit it… he's capable."
Ben raised a brow. "Capable? You were ready to toss him into the white lava last time."
Her expression darkened instantly. "Don't remind me. That bastard! If you hadn't stepped in, I would've ended him right there."
Ben chuckled tiredly. "Well, the shadow freak turned out to be useful… kind of."
He still remembered what happened after the battle. He'd thought everything was over, but when he caught up to Elvira and Draeven, they were already in another fight, this time against a strange, twitching creature that had come out out from Draeven's shadow.
And of course, he had to jump in too. Tired or not.
The battle was brutal. They barely came out on top. And just when Elvira moved to finish the thing off by tossing it into the white lava, Draeven stopped her.
"Not yet," Draeven had said.
Ben hadn't understood at the time, but he also feel curious. Against his better judgment, he convinced Elvira to hold off.
The reason for her fury? The thing had nearly taken her head off the moment it emerged.
It was only Draeven's insane reflexes, and the sacrifice of his arm, that stopped it. The limb had regrown in seconds, thanks to his absurd regeneration, but Elvira had never forgotten it.
She hadn't trusted Slark since. And even now, Ben wasn't sure he did either. But that kind of problem? It could be solved with the right magic .
"Slark's an infiltrator through and through. With him and Draeven stirring rebellion across the species, everything should go smoothly. Should," Ben muttered, fingers drumming the table. "I'm only worried about one thing…"
"The Templars," Elvira said flatly.
Ben nodded. "It's been three years since we killed their Magus. No retaliation. No replacements. Nothing."
Elvira also frown. They exchanged a look, then slowly turned their gaze toward the far corner of the room.
There, a small chibi knight floated lazily in the air, spinning his oversized sword like a toy. He'd been silent for hours, whistling a tune that didn't match the mood at all.
Ben frowned. "System. You said it was urgent."