Chapter 569: Grand Duke, Dutch Blazer
The War Room of the Duchy of Blazer had a high ceiling, supported by black stone columns carved with the house’s heraldry. Maps and flags covered the walls, some hastily updated to reflect recent changes in borders.
Duke Dutch Blazer sat on the lesser throne—not the ceremonial throne in the great hall, but the sturdy, functional chair he used during military meetings. He drummed his fingers on the solid oak table before him, where scrolls of parchment, sealed letters, and a cup of coffee that had grown cold lay.
The double iron door creaked open heavily, and a woman in light armor entered. Her steps were precise, but the expression on her face betrayed that the meeting would not bring good news. She knelt briefly in respect.
“Grand Duke,” she said, rising immediately afterward. “I have the consolidated report on the latest events on the continent and beyond.”
Dutch gestured for her to come closer. “All right, Helena. Tell me what’s going on out there. Because, judging by the number of ravens bringing messages, either the world has decided to send me invitations to a festival… or it’s turning upside down.”
Helena stood her ground.
“Turning, sir. And fast.” She unrolled a map on the table, marking points with small silver pieces. “Starting with Sylvandor, the elven capital: Evelyn Elowyn was crowned the new Queen of the Elves three months ago. Young, but extremely capable. She decimated the factions that didn’t even get along and united them… and… from what our spies report… Albert Vorah’s son was involved in this.”
Dutch frowned, moving the silver piece with his index finger. “Evelyn… Strange name for an elf.”
“She was a merchant in disguise, it seems she had an illness and resolved it in Eldoria,” explained Helena. “But it doesn’t seem to have diminished the respect she receives. On the contrary, they say she speaks with the voice of the forest as much as with that of the city.”
The Duke leaned back in his chair, absorbing the information. “Continue.”
“In Caelum, the situation is even more unusual. The ancient dragons were deposed—or resigned, according to some sources. A single figure took the place of all of them. Elyssar.”
Dutch raised an eyebrow. “A… Queen of Dragons?”
“Yes, sir. And not just a title. Reports indicate that she carries fragments of the elders’ own power. It is unclear whether this was by their choice or by brute force. But regardless… she is now the only recognized draconic sovereign in that place… although it is a rumor, I feel that something is wrong, so we will investigate further.”
The Duke let out a low whistle. “That… is no small thing.” His eyes scanned the map, stopping at a mark to the south. “What about the vampires? From what I’ve seen, that crazy vampire is no longer part of the Vampire Kingdom.”
Helena nodded. “Confirmed, Scarlet Vermilion has not existed in the Vampire Kingdom for six months… Furthermore, it seems that the title of Vampire Queen, which had been vacant for decades, has been claimed by Elizabeth Tapes. No one knows how Vlad made that decision and let her take over at that age, but since she took over, the older families have been at war.”
Dutch rubbed his face with his hand, laughing dryly. “So, in less than a year, we have a Queen of the Elves, a Queen of the Dragons, and a Queen of the Vampires.”
“All extremely active and expanding their influence,” Helena added. “And that’s not counting other figures who were already in power and continue to grow stronger.”
The Duke leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “How can the world change so fast?”
Helena hesitated before answering. “Sir… it’s not just the speed. It’s the pattern.” She pointed to the map, touching each marked point with a gloved finger.
“Today, most of the powerful rulers… are women. In almost all kingdoms and empires. Except for the Dwarves, Werewolves, and Humans.”
Dutch blinked a few times, taking in the sentence. “This Era… is really something interesting.” A brief smile appeared on his face, but without humor. “Interesting and completely disproportionate. In a single year… it’s as if the entire board has been turned upside down.”
“I agree, sir,” said Helena, folding her hands behind her back. “And it’s not just the new coronations. The sovereigns who were already established seem stronger than ever. Lilith, the Queen of Demons, for example…” Helena took a deep breath. “There are signs that the Demons are more active than in any other recorded period.”
The Duke let out a grunt. “Lilith, huh? If she’s on the move, then it’s not just politics that’s changing. It’s… the very balance of the world.” He scratched his beard thoughtfully and looked away to a corner of the room. “And Stella? Is she back yet?”
Helena didn’t answer right away. The silence was answer enough. But he raised an eyebrow, waiting for verbal confirmation.
“Sir…” Her voice lost some of its firmness. “Not yet.”
Dutch’s gaze hardened. “How long has it been?”
“Eight weeks since the last contact.”
The Duke leaned back slowly, the leather of the chair creaking. He was silent for a few seconds, staring at the map spread out in front of him.
“Eight months…” he repeated in a low voice, as if testing the weight of the phrase.
Helena broke the silence. “If you wish, I can order a search in Vorah…”
He shook his head slowly. “No.” And after a pause: “I’ll go myself.”
“Understood, sir.”
The Duke stood up and walked to one of the tall windows in the hall. The sky over the duchy was clear, but the wind carried the distant smell of rain. He stood there, staring at the horizon, as if he could see beyond the mountains surrounding the city.
…[Present Day]
The day in the duchy was strangely quiet until the first crash.
A low sound, muffled by distance, but enough to make the crows on the rooftops take flight.
Dutch Blazer stood in the stone archway that marked the entrance to Vorah—one of the richest and most exclusive districts of the capital. There, the streets were too clean, the facades were all polished, and the smell of fine spices mingled with the exaggerated scent of imported flowers.
He wore a dark overcoat buttoned up to his neck, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a slowly burning cigar. The smoke rose lazily… until it was cut off by a second bang. This one was louder. Closer.
He raised his eyebrows, looking toward the hills inside Vorah.
“…Who in the world attacks this shit at this hour?” he muttered, his tone half cynical, half curious.
From where he stood, he could see a flash dancing against the distant windows. It wasn’t a slow fire. It was bursts of light, brief and violent — like controlled explosions.
Albert Vorah’s mansion.
The name already carried old resentment. Dutch took another drag on his cigar and blew the smoke out through his nose, as if he had all the time in the world to process it.
Then the sound of hurried boots began to echo across the cobblestones. Soldiers from Vorah’s guard, all in ornate armor, were crossing the gate toward the inner neighborhood. Some ran, others shouted orders, and all wore expressions of those who didn’t know if they were going to put out a fire or go to war.
Dutch stepped aside, just enough to get out of the way.
“So worried…” he muttered, watching a group pass by with spears and shields glinting in the lamplight. “I bet half of them don’t even like the old man, but they all run when gold calls.”
Another crash. This time, the ground shook beneath his feet.
The Duke looked toward the flash, feeling the air change. It wasn’t just physical destruction—there was something… different about the energy escaping from there. Something that didn’t fit with noble fights or territorial disputes.
“…This is going to be fun or disastrous,” he said, clenching his cigar between his teeth. “Maybe both.”