“Krik, head to the council chamber,” Tristan said. His voice boomed out across the Fey Realm. He strode into the council chamber and took his seat at the head. After a few minutes, Felicity came in with Dorni trailing behind her. “Good day to you, Underboss.”

  Dorni had a little bit of a twinkle in his eye as he hoisted himself up to his seat. “We’ve been busy, but the armories are completely filled out, the market stalls overflow with goods, and we have begun delving into the earth once more.” He taped his foot on the floor. “The Fey Realm holds many treasures; not that we need them. But, well, the gnomes are a bit bored.”

  “What did you do in Zeltana’s time?” Tristan asked.

  “Repaired weapons and armor.”

  “Well . . . you may be at work outfitting allies soon enough.” Tristan looked over to the door as Thallia, and then Krik entered the room. Both took their seats, and Tristan spoke. “Thanks for coming here. I have secured pacts with three of the Demon Houses. Now comes the hard part. Thallia,” he turned to face her. “I need your diplomatic corps heading there. I’ll take a group out with me, and we’ll head to the inter-realm market, the Elemental Realm of Fire, and then from there head over to the Dalphatroux House holdings. A means to enter the Demon Realm.”

  She looked to Felicity. “The bangles have been distributed?”

  “It’s in progress,” she replied as she swapped to her Elfanoid form and took a seat on Tristan’s arm rest. She grabbed his hand and pulled it up to rest on her thigh.

  “Then yes, Lord Tristan, we can do that. When did you want to leave?”

  “Whenever you give me the go ahead. I imagine that we will have a full season to prepare between your cohorts beginning to coordinate, and the actual uprising and assault itself. Speaking of.” Tristan turned to Dorni. “We have allies in the Demon Realm. It would be prudent to outfit them. Once Thallia has ensured lines of communication are established, then we will field equipment orders. Remember, the gracious Lord Winterbloom is offering his assistance in this uprising.”

  “Of course.”

  “And,” Tristan continued. “I will need you to help me with a personal project later.”

  “Happy to do that.”

  Last, Tristan faced Krik. “Warmaster, I have uncovered something in the fifth vault.” He produced the branch from his belt and placed it on the table, as well as the scroll which he placed alongside it. “I have the means to grow Spriggan to the size of siege weapons. This changes things.”

  “In what way, forest father?”

  “We can look at being a bit more overt. Here’s my idea. We foment the uprising with the allied Demon Houses, but we also have our own army mass in the north.” He shifted his gaze over the table as a whole. “The Mericlau House in the north is the main military faction. Uprisings in the east and west, and their military training camps under assault in the north? Duberceix would be spread thin. He would never expect another force to then strike at the heart of his Realm.”

  “A sound plan. We will need staging grounds.”

  “Easy enough,” Felicity said as she draped a hand across Tristan’s shoulder and the back of his neck. “The Dalphatroux House’s holdings are the closest, and we can get there through the Elemental Realm of Fire.”

  Thallia spoke. “Will the Citadel be okay with us using their inter-realm market for war?”

  “. . . Probably not,” Tristan replied. He spoke with the voice of the realm. “Matriarch, please attend me in the council chamber. In fact, let’s just get everyone here.”

  Thallia used the interim time to explain her plans with the various Demon Houses based upon Eloise’s information, Tristan’s firsthand experience, and Felicity’s observations. “We’ll start by getting an emissary group to the Demon Realm. Once the bangles have been used to establish communication, we’ll coordinate the uprising and provide logistical support. We’ll need to dedicate a few extra members to that emissary group. I’ll hash out all the details with Prish.”

  The unicorn entered, followed quickly by The Matriarch in her Elfanoid form, and the half-breed Broxtar jeweler, Beatrice. She took her place at the end, and gave Tristan a little wave.

  “You were elected to represent the residents,” Tristan stated.

  “Yes, Lord Tristan.” She dipped her head. “After Dorothy’s . . . incident, I was rapidly voted in.”

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  “And she’s been doing marvelously,” Prish added. “Now, for what purpose is the Fey Court summoned?”

  Thallia quickly re-explained everything that Tristan had said, and the conversation they had just concluded in a rapid flurry that was perfectly precise. No extra fluff or nonsense; just a brief recap that was to the point. As she spoke, fairy dragons flew in with mugs of clearcool. Tristan took a sip as Thallia concluded.

  The Matriarch looked over to Tristan. “You are considering going to war?”

  “Not the way Zeltana once did,” Tristan replied. “We would be staging an army, perhaps engaging in a skirmish, but not fomenting an all-out assault on the Mericlau land. We aren’t there to cause undue suffering, just to put down the Demon King and end the threat to my life for good.”

  “They are devout, from all the reports,” Krik said with his rumbling bass tone. “We would be fools to leave them as they are. What happens when the Demon King dies? The existing Demon Houses elect a new one. If it is a Mericlau, they would hold a grudge against the Fey Realm, its denizens, and you, forest father. We would be better off crushing their command structure.”

  “I agree,” Dorni said as he crossed his arms. “Fairy dragon assassins taking out the House heads should be enough to cripple their abilities. Stage an invasion, but don’t actually invade.”

  Krik nodded, and Thallia spoke. “It would be prudent to ensure that we are not overstepping what the current Demon Houses want. I do not believe that the pact Lord Tristan completed with them included anything about what the Fey Realm would be doing, save for our direct assault on the capital once the uprising begins.”

  “That’s correct,” Tristan said. He looked to The Matriarch. “Thoughts?”

  She had been quiet and looked reserved as she sat there. “I . . . Lord Tristan, you don’t want to be your forebear. This plan echoes her actions very closely.”

  No shit, Zeltana said in Tristan’s mind. Of course they are like mine. The difference is we’re not going to genocide the entire realm and then graft it onto the Fey Realm.

  The Matriarch continued. “I agree with Krik and Dorni. This Mericlau House needs to be brought low to ensure your continued safety.” She smiled, “Especially given what was included in those pacts.”

  All eyes turned to Tristan, who nudged Felicity. She grinned. “I might have found ink in the Citadel that was invisible, and I might have drawn some clauses on the pacts. Those Demon Lords and Ladies can’t do anything harm Tristan, the Fey Realm, or his interests. We just need to make sure that one of them gets on the throne.”

  “Then we should also take out the house heads of this Nouvax House,” Krik stated with minor amusement. “The agricultural sector will still function if the nobility perishes, but they are not bound with this insidious pact.”

  “Insidious? Seems reasonable, if you ask me,” Thallia replied.

  Tristan stood up. “Then we are in agreement. We prepare for war. A fake front of war, but we should be ready, nonetheless.” Tristan grabbed the branch and tossed it to Krik, who caught it with easy between two bark-covered fingers. “I entrust this relic of Zeltana’s to you.”

  Hey, that’s a good weapon!

  “I won’t be on the front with you,” Tristan said.

  Ah. Okay, well, giving it to him makes sense, then.

  “I am going to be assaulting Duberceix directly. We’ll create an assault force that is precise and focused.” He looked at The Matriarch. “Identify fairy dragons who would be best suited as assassins to take out the rulers of the Mericlau and Nouvax Demon Houses. We’ll send them on their way when I transport the emissaries.” He looked at Krik. “Prepare the army. When we have the date of the uprising, we’ll begin to stage our assault.” He then looked at Dorni. “I need your help with some personal gear.”

  Krik opened the bark plates on his forearm, gnarled vines pushing aside the panels as he slotted the branch in, and then the vines grabbed the plates and pulled them back into place. “How will we get there if The Citadel will not let us use their portals?”

  “We unseal the Daylight Dell. I think it is time for the dryads to return. In five days’ time. Any questions?” No one spoke. “Good. Then let’s get to work.”

  Tristan cast Disguise Form, took on his Bhant appearance, gathered with the nymphs, and used his ring to transport them all back to the Mortal Realm. They arrived at the inter-realm market, and he escorted them to the gateway leading to the Elemental Realm of Fire. He followed them through, feeling the heat sink into his bones. The nymphs began sweating immediately, panting as the temperature increase was not anything like what they were acclimated to. The unicorns were fine, as were the spriggan, though some complained that they were hot. The fairy dragons were invisibly complaining about how thirsty they were.

  Tristan led the groups of envoys, ignoring the stares he received, to the small booth he had visited previously. The bored-looking Demonkin he had previously spoken to in his Marius identity looked up, bored. “Hi there,” he muttered in Standard Tongue.

  Tristan replied in flawless Demon’s Tongue. “I need passage to the Dalphatroux territory, and their market. How much for this group to have a lifetime pass?”

  The man looked past him to the fifty various species from the Fey Realm – species he had never seen before, no doubt, and his eyes went wide. “Oh . . . uhm . . . I can do a group rate?”

  Tristan opened his Pocket Dimension II with a quick spin of his crucible and surge of essence. He began pulling out bags of sapphires and rubies until he had heaped piles on the merchant’s stall. “This should be sufficient for five group passes that never expire.” He gestured to the Fey species behind him. “Five groups of ten.”

  “Ye-yes! Of course!” The Demonkin began scooping the bags into a sack behind the counter and pulled out gold-plated metal stamped discs, handing them to Tristan. “Here. Let me just get the portal for you.” He headed over to the stone circle and poured essence into it. “Thanks for the business!”

  Tristan waved the emissary cohorts forward, and they went through the portal. “Thanks. Make sure some of those gems make their way to your pockets.”

  “Oh, no doubt about that, mister.” After the last spriggan was seen through the portal, Tristan departed, heading right back to the inter-realm market, to the edge, and then he re-activated his ring. Back in the Fey Realm, Dorni was waiting patiently next to the crafting area.

  “Lord Tristan, ready to begin?”

  “Yes. Let’s get started.”

  Tournament of Gods · LitRPG Comedy

  LitRPG Comedy Action 5× week

  8 million players. One shrimp to rule them all.

  Shrimpie the Peacock Mantis Shrimp was happily one-punching fish… until the gods kidnapped every animal on Earth for their 8-floor video-game death tournament.

  Humanoid body ??Useless human guide ??Raccoon-dog with no boundaries ??Snarky system ?

  Survive 14 days or become shrimp paste.

  Can the one-punch wonder become a legend… or just another corpse?

  Also, why are there SO MANY CRAFTING MENUS?!

  Expect: Egoistic shrimp learning humility ? One Punch Man × DCC ? escalating chaos every floor ? found family ? 5 ch/week