"Hmm..."

Wenwu stirred awake. He shifted slightly, and an immediate wave of soreness flooded his body. Sleeping with Desmona’s puppet strings still attached was anything but comfortable.

Gritting his teeth, Wenwu pushed himself upright. After washing up, he stepped out, ready to get down to business.

Through careful inquiries, he’d located the current Emperor of Oceanland’s residence.

"Well then, Master," Silver questioned, eyeing the building before them with clear skepticism, "is this truly where His Imperial Majesty resides?"

Wenwu was equally stunned. Even a vassal king of the Bansfaser Empire shouldn’t be living in a commoner’s house.

"Let’s just go inside first," Wenwu decided. Seeing the door slightly ajar, he pushed it open.

"Halt! Who dares trespass in the Imperial Palace!" A guard behind the door blocked Wenwu’s path.

*Imperial Palace?* Wenwu thought with disdain. *This shabby place dares call itself a palace?*

Perhaps his contempt was too obvious. The guard added stiffly, "Wherever the Emperor resides, that place is the Imperial Palace."

The words held truth, but this "palace" was unbearably shabby.

"I have urgent business with His Imperial Majesty."

"Presumptuous! The Emperor isn’t someone you can simply demand to see!"

The arrogance stung. "Even a vassal emperor has too many rules," Wenwu muttered.

"Silence! You dare disrespect His Majesty!" The guard raised his hand to strike.

"Hold!" A middle-aged man descended the stairs.

"My Lord Count," the guard reported, "this man disrespects the Emperor."

The Count waved him quiet. "I doubt you came here to cause trouble, sir."

"Do I look like I’m here to pick a fight?" Wenwu retorted.

"Bring him up," an elderly voice called from above.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," the Count bowed. "This way, sir."

Wenwu followed the Count upstairs. The simple layout gave no hint this was the dwelling of Oceanland’s sovereign.

"Young man, what business brings you to me?" The speaker was a gaunt middle-aged man. The toll of his nation’s occupation by the Empire was etched deep into his weary face.

"So you are the Emperor of Oceanland?"

"Insolence! Do you doubt His Majesty’s identity?" The Count’s voice tightened.

"It’s fine," the Emperor sighed. "In this state, who would believe I’m an emperor? Speak plainly." He seemed remarkably clear-eyed about his plight.

"Forgive my bluntness," Wenwu pressed, "but even a vassal king under Bansfaser shouldn’t live like this. How did Your Majesty fall so low?"

The Emperor’s expression darkened, haunted by memories. After a heavy silence, he rasped, "You seek me knowing Oceanland’s fate. I angered Pierce by trying to protect my people. And so... ah..."

*He still cares for his subjects,* Wenwu realized, *even after losing his throne.*

"I’ve come to propose a trade."

"A trade?" The Emperor gave a hollow chuckle. "Look at me. I’m just an ordinary man now—no wealth, no power. I have nothing to offer."

"What I seek is only Your Majesty’s promise."

"My promise?" The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Very well. I’ll hear your terms."

"I will restore your rule over Oceanland."

"Are you serious?" The Emperor shot to his feet, trembling. "Then... what promise do you demand in return?"

"When war comes—no matter your allegiance—you must grant me passage through Oceanland."

Shock froze the Emperor. He knew his nation’s strategic position. Passage through Oceanland meant only two things: if the Bansfaser Empire sought exit, they wouldn’t ask permission. Only one possibility remained—invading the Empire itself.

"You... you intend to..."

"Calm yourself, Your Majesty," Wenwu interrupted smoothly. "I said *if*. My proposal is made. What is your answer?"

The Emperor glanced at the Count, seeking counsel. After a silent exchange, the Count gave a slight nod. "Before I agree," the Emperor said carefully, "I must know your plan. Failure would mean ruin—for me and my people."

"First, how many can you rally?"

The Emperor shook his head bitterly. "Pierce stripped me of all military command."

"What of the people?"

"The people?" He hesitated. "Few willingly choose death. And Pierce... he maintains constant magical contact with the Empire. Any uprising would doom Oceanland entirely."

"Fear not," Wenwu assured him. "My allies are dealing with Pierce. Your task is only to gather the people. Leave the rest to me."

The Emperor fell silent, weighing his options. "How certain are you of success?"

"Nine out of ten."

Seeing Wenwu’s unwavering confidence, a flicker of hope ignited in the Emperor’s eyes. "Very well! I’ll send word at once!"

***

While Wenwu conspired with Oceanland’s Emperor, Desmona remained in the castle, sipping tea and reading.

"What are you smiling at?" Desmona snapped, catching Pierce’s unconscious grin as she glanced up.

"Eh? Was I smiling?" Pierce touched his lips, feigning surprise.

"Disgusting." Desmona rose with disdain, already plotting how to fulfill Wenwu’s orders. As she stood, a wave of dizziness hit her. She dismissed it—exhaustion after an all-nighter, surely. It would pass.

But the vertigo deepened. Her vision swam. She gripped the back of the sofa to steady herself.

"Princess Royal, you seem unwell," Pierce said, rising with false concern.

"Who told you to stand? Kneel!" she commanded.

Ignoring her order, Pierce stepped closer, his face dripping with mock worry. "If you’re truly ill, rest in my bed. Should you fall sick here, I couldn’t answer to my superiors."

His smug expression confirmed her suspicion—this was his doing.

"What did you put in the tea?" she demanded.

"Your Highness," he cooed, "a royal lady like you needs rest after such a long night. I merely added a mild sedative."

"You... you..." Her legs trembled.

"Rest well, Princess," Pierce whispered, his hand reaching out. "I’ll stay by your side... and cherish you."