Matthias sipped his tea as he waited for Xalt to digest everything he had confessed. The tea was still warm, faintly floral, and he found himself focusing on the steam curling up from the cup more than the flavor itself. It gave him something to anchor to while he waited. He had to admit to himself that he had gone on a bit of a rant on a few subjects, jumping tracks more than once, but Xalt had never interrupted him or tried to steer the conversation. That alone felt significant.

  Xalt was currently studying the globe Matthias had conjured, turning it slowly in his hands. His fingers traced continents and coastlines with idle familiarity, as if committing the shape of the world to memory rather than simply observing it. Every so often, his thumb paused, lingering over some detail only he seemed to notice.

  “That is certainly a lot more than I got from the last otherworlder,” Xalt eventually confessed. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of disbelief beneath it. “But I still don’t understand why you would simply tell me all of this.”

  “Because I really like necromancers,” Matthias admitted, lifting his cup again. “Like I said, I always played one when given the opportunity. They’re practical, flexible, and brutally honest about how the world works.”

  “As the avatar of life in this world, I find it ironic that necromancy is your favorite kind of magic,” Xalt responded dryly, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.

  “I know, right?” Matthias chuckled. “You’d think I’d have a thing for healing or growth magic, but no. Skeletons and bad decisions all the way.”

  “You know,” Xalt continued after a moment, “I came here intending to bribe you into sharing as much information as possible. Artifacts, secrets, leverage—whatever I needed. Then you simply spill your guts like the truth has been weighing on you for far too long.”

  “It kind of has,” Matthias confessed. He leaned back slightly, letting the chair creak beneath him. “I don’t have many guy friends. Sometimes it’s nice to just unwind with another guy and talk without worrying about expectations. Don’t get me wrong—my fairies do their best to keep me stable—but living with someone isn’t the same as choosing to spend time with them.”

  “I have never felt the need for much kinship,” Xalt admitted before taking a slow sip of his deep red wine. He examined the liquid as he swallowed, as if reacquainting himself with the sensation. “It is only now that I am flesh once more that solitude has begun to nag at me.”

  “But it is a marked improvement,” Matthias offered gently.

  “Oddly enough, it is,” Xalt agreed. “As a lich, I was so sure of every decision I made. I never doubted myself. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Now that I live once more, I feel doubt again. It creeps in at the edges. But doubt pushes me to be better—to prove that I am better now than I ever was before.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Sorry I had to shatter your worldview,” Matthias said, setting his cup down. “But I don’t regret where we ended up.”

  “You know,” Xalt replied, finally lifting his gaze to meet Matthias’s eyes, “neither do I. I am still upset with you, but it is not an all-consuming hate. That surprised me.”

  “I can live with good-natured pranks,” Matthias allowed. “It’s what guys do when they don’t know how else to process complicated emotions.”

  “I am not so juvenile that—” Xalt began, drawing himself up slightly.

  “Don’t act like you wouldn’t rot the legs of my chair just to see me fall on my ass,” Matthias deadpanned without missing a beat.

  “I… I retract my statement,” Xalt said with a smirk. “The more I think about it, the more I realize I might actually try it one day. For academic purposes.”

  “So,” Matthias asked, spreading his hands, “where do we go from here?”

  “We buy time,” Xalt suggested. “Those last two tiers are going to be one hell of a climb. Every shortcut comes with consequences, and we have already tempted fate enough.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Matthias admitted. “We have a saying in my world: what can go wrong, will go wrong. I don’t mind waiting, but the longer this takes, the more likely something slips through the cracks.”

  “And geopolitics is not helping,” Xalt sighed. “The Dragon Emperor has stopped exporting food from your dungeon to other nations. I am not surprised, given that most of those nations are quietly—or not so quietly—trying to invade his lands.”

  “What is the point of claiming such barren territory?” Matthias asked, frowning.

  “You would not believe how long I have been asking that myself,” Xalt mused. “Few nations possess the infrastructure necessary to raise mages capable of nurturing the land into something that can sustain life. They conquer first and hope the land figures itself out later.”

  “But we do,” Matthias said suddenly, leaning forward. “We have the means to raise such individuals—to create the cultivation equivalent of druids. People whose entire purpose is long-term stability rather than short-term gain.”

  Xalt paused, studying him carefully. The globe stopped turning in his hands.

  “Are you suggesting we create a nation of mages whose sole purpose is to maintain the health of the land?” Xalt asked slowly.

  “I’m suggesting that we already have the infrastructure to support such an organization,” Matthias replied. “And that those mages would also be perfectly suited for espionage and information gathering, whether we intend it or not.”

  “You added that last part for me,” Xalt accused.

  “How can they be our thermometer for global health if they don’t know everyone’s business?” Matthias countered. “At least in broad strokes. You can’t treat an illness if you refuse to diagnose it.”

  Xalt nodded slowly. “It is not a terrible plan, in broad strokes,” he admitted. “And it would not even be that difficult for nations to accept, provided it is framed correctly.”

  “But don’t advertise it as a nation,” Matthias warned. “Make it an organization that provides a service. They should have no interest in conquest. The more neutral they appear, the easier it will be to slip them under everyone’s notice. Then we scale it faster than anyone can adapt.”

  “You make world domination sound very simple,” Xalt mused.

  “I’m just surprised no one tried this before,” Matthias said.

  “Dungeons were a good enough solution,” Xalt replied.

  “Good enough isn’t going to cut it anymore,” Matthias said flatly.

  “Indeed,” Xalt murmured, setting the globe aside. “We are either headed toward a golden age or a dark one. I can hardly wait.”