The Alliance

"The evil Wizard murdered the king when he reached his loyal city-state. But now the king has returned from Hell, wreathed in the flames of vengeance, determined to reclaim what was rightfully his."

Annan watched Michael deliver the speech in a low voice.

"Did Andrew Luna teach you to say that?"

"I specifically asked Luna to teach me." Michael handed Annan a list. "But that's what a lot of people genuinely think. One of the Twelve Kings of the North, robbed of his city and his life, has crawled out of hell to visit the cruelest revenge upon his murderer."

"What's this?"

Annan took the list. It was full of long, obscure names—a challenge for someone who hadn't studied the Common Tongue in ages.

"Nobles, wealthy people, and Professionals who'll visit you later, either to take your side or place a bet on you."

"Are there any Master Level Professionals here?"

"No. Unless they're carrying serious trouble, a Master Level Professional doesn't need to seek anyone's protection."

"Could I use money to win over Master Levels, like the nobles in the Southlands do?"

"Master Levels rarely lack money... except Spellcasters."

"I thought Mages had an easy time making money..." Annan said. There were things like sensing Magic Stones. Even copying Magic Scrolls paid dozens of Gold Coins.

"But we spend it even faster."

Annan knew that all too well. Even Meditation, the most basic practice for a Spellcaster, had once cost more than he earned. He'd only dared to use low-grade Magic materials.

"Once you show what else you're capable of, though, some Master Level Professionals should come over to your side."

"I haven't prepared for any of this..."

"That's fine. You can take your time," Michael said. "You could even paint them a beautiful future, get them to fund