The Imperial Embassy.

  The Imperial Embassy in Cartalpas rose above the other structures like a shining beacon, the very embodiment of the grandeur and unbending might of the Holy Mirishial Empire. Sunlight, refracting through stained-glass windows, scattered a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls, creating an atmosphere of majesty and solemnity.

  Alexey Petrov, a fit man with a piercing gaze, and his deputy, Anton Vorobyov, walked ahead of the Russian delegation, trying to keep pace with the bustling guide who was performing his duties with joy. Alexey, with true diplomatic polish, asked questions about the building's history and architectural features. He did not forget to add compliments, distributing them generously like expensive coins that were always appropriate.

  Beautiful, certainly... but they sure built a lot here, flashed through Anton's mind.

  Finally, after a brief inspection and a small tour, the Russian delegates found themselves in a spacious lobby where a lively atmosphere already reigned. Ambassadors dressed in their finest clothes exchanged greetings, shared the latest news, and, of course, enjoyed exquisite viands generously arranged on tables covered with snow-white tablecloths. The air was filled with the muted hum of voices mixed with the clinking of crystal glasses. There were exquisite appetizers, exotic fruits, and even unusual drinks whose scents aroused both interest and caution. Apart from everyone else, like unapproachable rocks, sat the delegation from Gra-Valkas. Their grim faces and unfriendly glances created a sense of tension. They seemed detached from the general merriment, immersed in their own thoughts. The Russian representatives took their place; their faces, despite their politeness, betrayed a slight nervousness. This was their first appearance on the world stage in this world, and tension hung in the air like an electric charge. This was the moment when it was necessary to display composure and professionalism.

  Is this really all happening? thought Alexey.

  "Commander, come in. Some shady types are approaching us. Two with swords, one unarmed. Pass it to the white-collars," the voice of one of the guards rang out over the radio.

  "Copy that," answered the commander of the "representatives" group.

  At that moment, a man approached the Russian representatives. His bright clothing and easy demeanor immediately attracted attention. He was dressed in a long, multi-layered robe in which bright, almost acidic colors mixed, creating an image that seemed simultaneously extravagant and slightly ridiculous. On his head sat a small cap adorned with bright feathers, and his movements were fluid and graceful. It was Magar, the representative of the Principality of Agartha.

  "Greetings. I assume you are from Russia?" his voice sounded with slight irony, but at the same time, it was pleasant and friendly. "Pleased to meet you, I am Magar, from the Principality of Agartha, representing the Foreign Decree."

  With these words, he extended his hand; his smile was open and sincere.

  "Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation, Alexey. I am also pleased to meet you," Alexey replied, shaking Magar's hand. He noted to himself that despite the strange clothes, this man gave the impression of an intelligent and astute interlocutor.

  "Mr. Alexey, it is a great honor for me to meet you in person," Magar continued, his eyes sparkling with interest. "Your ships have made an indelible impression on us. The rumors of your military might that flew across all the Worlds turned out to be true. In this world, where everything is built on a magical foundation, you have advanced thanks to science and scientific works. Unheard-of news! Even the Superpower Mu, which prioritizes scientific research, still relies on a magical foundation in some spheres. Rumors have reached me that your scientific basis plays the leading role, and thanks to it, you have reached unprecedented heights. My sovereign is interested in visiting your country."

  Alexey, an experienced diplomat, listened to Magar carefully, understanding that behind his polite words lay deep interest and, perhaps, even admiration.

  "Mr. Magar, thank you for such kind words," he replied with a smile. "We will gladly receive your delegation at any time. We are always happy to share our achievements and experience."

  The conversation with the representative of Agartha gave them food for thought. Interest from other countries was precisely the starting point they wanted to reach.

  A few minutes after this conversation, the Russian delegation, in the persons of Alexey and Anton, turned their attention to the delegation from the Annonrial Empire. The diplomat noticed that each of them had a pair of wings, one white and one black.

  Intelligence reports and local rumors alike indicated that Annonrial was a civilization controlling the vast majority of the southern world. Despite being the sole representatives of their region at the "Conference of the Leaders of 11 Nations," the Annonrial Empire preferred isolation. Contact with the outside world was restricted to the small island of Bushpaka-Lathan, where trade and diplomatic relations were permitted. Officially, Annonrial was classified as an "uncivilized" country; however, due to the immense territories the Empire controlled, it had been granted the status of a superpower. Russian analysts, like hunters stalking prey, scrutinized their every move, knowing that behind the unremarkable fa?ade might lie something far greater.

  Their presence at the conference was likely nothing more than window dressing—a charade performed for the sake of appearances. Intelligence reported that life on Bushpaka-Lathan was quite developed, but contradictory rumors circulated regarding the mainland itself. Images obtained from reconnaissance satellites revealed a multitude of lights, evidencing the existence of advanced cities whose level of development resembled, or perhaps even surpassed, that of Mirishial. Yet, the fleet they had brought to Cartalpas consisted of dilapidated sailing ships that were indistinguishable from the vessels of the uncivilized lands.

  Another sham, thought Alexey, hiding their true power.

  Like an experienced scout who has picked up the trail of a mysterious target, Alexey Petrov, having received a tacit order from the leadership, decided to introduce himself personally to the Annonrial delegation. He approached them with a polite but insistent smile.

  "Excuse me," he addressed them, his voice sounding restrained but with internal tension, "dare I assume that you are from the Annonrial Empire?"

  In response, he received only an indefinite "Ugh..."

  The winged man with a white mustache and an emotionless expression, whom he had addressed, showed no reaction. In his eyes, one could read complete indifference and even some squeamishness, as if Alexey were empty space to him. His face remained absolutely imperturbable, like a mask.

  Interesting... thought Alexey.

  Alexey was not surprised by such a reaction; it did not offend him in the least. On the contrary, this coldness was exponentially better than the feigned arrogance and false courtesy of other delegates. Let's see what is hidden behind this feigned detachment, Alexey concluded mentally.

  "I am glad to finally meet you," he said, maintaining a polite tone. "My name is Alexey Petrov; I represent the Russian Federation. My government is very interested in your country, and I hope we can establish diplomatic relations in the future."

  The Annonrial was silent for a while, then answered carelessly, as if doing a favor: "Ah, I see. As you probably know, any diplomatic issues with us and the peoples of the southern world are resolved in Bushpaka-Lathan. As for establishing diplomatic ties, I will say right away—we do not participate in direct trade. I hope you understand."

  There was no interest in his voice; he simply stated facts, expressing nothing. It was clear that the Annonrials were completely uninterested in either the conference or Russia. Alexey, as an experienced intelligence officer, understood that this restrained answer was much more valuable than a loud denial. He sensed that some secret was hidden behind these cold phrases.

  "Does your policy regarding contacts in Bushpaka-Lathan extend to other countries?" asked Alexey, trying not to show his curiosity.

  "Yes," answered the Annonrial without changing his expression. "According to our rule, no foreigner may step on our territory."

  Alexey noted that the Annonrials showed no discrimination toward other races or countries. Or pretend not to show, he mentally corrected himself.

  "Will visiting Bushpaka-Lathan give us the same understanding of your country as visiting your mainland?" Alexey continued, trying to get the Annonrial to talk and force him to show at least some interest.

  "Yeees...?" the Annonrial stumbled for a moment, as if caught off guard. "Bushpaka-Lathan is part of the empire, a reception point for representatives of the southern world, so it is no different from our other cities. Although, some aspects of culture may be different... Why do you ask?"

  For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, an expression appeared on the Annonrial's face that could be interpreted in some way. It was something between confusion and surprise.

  "You see, according to our data, your mainland is much more developed than the island of Bushpaka-Lathan. This seems somewhat curious to me... just curiosity, nothing more," Alexey replied, pretending not to notice the shock on the Annonrials' faces. His words were spoken with a slight smile, but a steely note was felt in his tone.

  At that moment, the Annonrial representative, like the other members of his delegation, broke out in a sweat, as if Alexey had hit a nerve. Their glances became nervous and anxious. But at that moment, a loud announcement sounded:

  "The Conference will begin in one minute. We ask you, honorable delegates, to take your seats," announced the herald, whose voice spread throughout the hall via the Manaspeakers.

  "Well then, it is time," said Petrov, bowing his head slightly. "Once again, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we will see each other again."

  With these words, Petrov and his assistants left the hall, leaving the Annonrials following them with their gaze. That gaze expressed nothing but incomprehension.

  "Typical humans... 'Russia'... What do they even need from us?" muttered the Annonrial, looking at the retreating Russians as if trying to unravel their true motives. He nervously adjusted his wing and, turning around, proceeded to the conference hall.

  The Imperial Embassy Hall.

  A solemn silence fell over the immense, majestic hall of the Imperial Embassy, broken only by the muted hum of mana-crystals powering magical communications throughout the building. The Herald, dressed in richly embroidered robes, announced the beginning of the session. It was here, at this massive table of lacquered dark wood, that the fates of entire nations—and not just of this world—were decided. Representatives of all the powerful countries of the New World, whose names resounded on the lips of ordinary mortals and whose political weight made whole peoples tremble, took part in this gathering.

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  The hall seemed carved from solid stone, and its ceiling, painted with scenes from ancient myths, soared upwards, lost in the gloom. The light from numerous lamps and mana-crystals created an intricate play of shadows, emphasizing the grandeur and significance of the proceedings. This year, the "Conference of Leaders of 11 Nations" was not merely a gathering of the world's strongest; it was a unique event. For the first time, two transferred countries were present: the Gra-Valkas Empire, whose boots had not long ago trampled the pride of the once-formidable Superpower Leifor, and the Russian Federation, whose military might had put an end to the existence of the Parpaldian Empire.

  Present at the session this time were representatives of: the Holy Mirishial Empire, the Superpower Mu, the Kingdom of Emor, the Gra-Valkas Empire, the Russian Federation, the Principality of Agartha, the Kingdom of Torquia, the Grand Duchy of Pandora, the Magi-cratic Federation of Magicreach, the Union of Nigrat, and the Annonrial Empire.

  The atmosphere was thick with tension. It seemed that any wrong step or word could lead to unpredictable consequences.

  Suddenly, the envoy from the Kingdom of Emor raised his clawed, ring-adorned hand and stood before those present. A two-meter giant, the dragonoid Moriaul boasted not only horns as a symbol of high birth but also magma-like sclera with narrow yellow pupils that seemed to pierce everyone with their gaze.

  "I introduce myself for the new representatives. I am Moriaul, from the Kingdom of Emor," rumbled the dragonoid, whose voice seemed to tremble as it reflected off the stone walls of the hall. "Before we begin, I have an extremely important message for those present here."

  He paused, looking over everyone present, his gaze lingering for a moment on the delegates of the Russian Federation before continuing.

  "Two winter solstices ago, our cosmic seer conducted a divination ritual."

  His words caused instant silence. All those who had heard of the accuracy of the predictions pricked up their ears.

  "The God of Time and Space lifted the cloudy veil of mystery before our eyes. The Ravernal Empire is returning..."

  His words, like a bolt from the blue, crashed down upon the attendees. The tension in the hall increased a hundredfold. Nervous whisperings, bordering on panic, began among the delegates, especially the representatives of the old world powers.

  "It cannot be..." muttered the representative of the Kingdom of Torquia, breaking out in a sweat. "If this happens... If those legends left by our ancestors are true, then we will all be destroyed!"

  Moriaul, raising his hand, gestured for silence and continued, staring straight ahead.

  "Because we could not penetrate the spatial distortion, we do not know the exact time and place of Ravernal's return. But thanks to Russian mathematicians, we were able to calculate the window period," Moriaul continued, pointing to the Russian ambassador. "From seven to fourteen winter solstices. This very period will be the most dangerous."

  His words echoed through the entire hall.

  "To what extent we can resist them and to what extent the legends are true remains unclear to us. All the scrolls of our forefathers were lost in the capital of the Dragon Empire during the war with Ravernal, and after the crushing defeat, no further records were kept. However, those cursed items found during the excavation of the ruins are enough to understand that the Ancient Magical Empire advanced to heights unattainable for us. We ask everyone present today not to engage in empty conflicts, not to start bloody wars. We ask everyone present to strengthen their armies and relationships to meet the Ravernal Empire fully armed! Today's World must unite in the fight against this abomination!"

  After these words, the hall filled with a hum of discussion. Whispers grew into a turbulent clamor, and it seemed that open conflict was about to erupt.

  Suddenly, amidst the general chaos, a woman's laughter rang out, shrill and dismissive. All eyes immediately turned to the source of the sound. A woman of about thirty, with a haughty expression, continued to laugh, ignoring the unkind glances.

  "Ha-ha-ha, forgive me, that must have seemed rude on my part," the woman said after her laughter subsided, adjusting her dark hair. "I am Cielia Oudwin, from the Foreign Affairs Bureau of the Gra-Valkas Empire. To my shame, I know nothing of your so-called 'Magical Empire,' but the fact that you pathetic, pompous, self-satisfied savages are afraid of some ancient boogeyman makes me laugh."

  She looked over everyone present, her gaze lingering on the representatives of the Russian delegation, after which she continued, as if revising her speech.

  "You gathered here as the mighty of this world, and the first thing I hear is speeches about some fortune-telling and divining of fate. And you call yourselves world powers? The boots of our marines trampled all of Leifor, and weak as it may have been, it was considered a Superpower. The Conference of Leaders of 11 Nations is a congress of powerful countries, but what I have seen looks more like a circus act with fortune-telling."

  Her insolence and audacity seemed to shock most of those present.

  "How dare you!" hissed the reddened representative of the Kingdom of Torquia, his voice cracking into a falsetto. "You, a petty fry, allow yourself such speeches!"

  Moriaul, however, did not react to the insolent speech of the Gra-Valkas representative. He merely phlegmatically scratched the bridge of his nose with a clawed index finger, and his voice sounded calm, but with a slight hint of mockery.

  "Child, you do not imagine even a fraction of what magic can do in capable hands, yet you spew such vile and senseless words from your mouth. You, too, like the Russian Federation, are a nation of people with weak magical power, yet the latter seem wiser than their years. Therefore, it is in you that we place no hope."

  "What do you think you are doing, old lizard?!" Cielia turned purple with anger, clenching her fists. "You have no idea what science is capable of! Our Nation needs none of your empty palm readings!"

  "Look who's talking," Alexey muttered under his breath, sipping a drink from a crystal goblet that tasted simultaneously like coffee and juice. Interesting drink, he thought. I'll have to ask where they got this.

  Raising his hand, the Russian representative decided to intervene, preventing open conflict from flaring up.

  "Cielia? Correct?" he said, looking at the woman with an unperturbed expression. "My name is Alexey; I represent the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Russian Federation. In defense of the 'palm readings' you disparaged, I will say that they were conducted by our best Doctors of Mathematics and analysts, with the assistance of Emor scientists and the Cosmic Seer himself. Magic here influences events, and predictions based on them are as accurate as is generally possible. Eighty percent is unheard of! And taking into account previous 'divinations' that proved correct, it amounts to ninety-seven point ninety-nine hundredths! Do you understand what that means, Cielia?"

  Cielia, somewhat taken aback, looked at Alexey and mumbled:

  "No..."

  "Your remarks and attacks are unfounded and unsupported by anything," he finished, looking around the hall as if waiting for a reaction.

  After the dialogue ended, the hall began to ferment again. The clamor started anew. Only the gods know how it didn't come to fisticuffs.

  After a short break, the representative of the Superpower Mu took the floor, his voice sounding cold and decisive.

  "We issue an accusation against the Gra-Valkas Empire! We wish to enact an embargo against the Gra-Valkas Empire for a term of twelve years for the military seizure of the Kingdom of Irnetia. We also accuse the Gra-Valkas Empire of escalating conflict. If we let Gra-Valkas's behavior slide right now, the global order could collapse in the future!"

  Taking the floor, the HME representative, whose Manaspeakers broadcast his voice throughout the hall, made a tough statement.

  "We completely agree with the representatives of Mu. The Gra-Valkas Empire undermines the balance and the long-standing order. Therefore, we issue an ultimatum—to leave the territories of the conquered states of the Second Civilized Region within a month. In the event of ignoring or failing to meet the deadline of the ultimatum, the Armed Forces of the Holy Mirishial Empire will stand on the side of the Superpower Mu and liberate the territories occupied by the Gra-Valkas Empire by force."

  The calm and authoritative tone of the HME representative made everyone present shudder, with the exception of the Russian and Gra-Valkan sides. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at Cielia. She remained unperturbed, like a stone statue, and it seemed nothing could frighten her. After a brief pause, gathering her courage, she spoke.

  "In the name of our Emperor, His Imperial Majesty Gralux, we proclaim an ultimatum! All countries present must bow before our Emperor; we promise these countries prosperity. But if you do not submit to His Will and swear allegiance, do not expect any mercy or quarter! Silence will be regarded as disagreement. So, will you swear allegiance to His Imperial Majesty right here and now?"

  Silence reigned for a second, and then a deafening clamor of laughing representatives rang out.

  "Who does this insect think she is?"

  "Savage!"

  "Aren't you biting off more than you can chew, nonentity?"

  "Worthless fool!"

  "She's delusional!"

  A multitude of humiliations and indignations flew toward the delegation of the Gra-Valkas Empire. Only the representatives of the HME, the Russian Federation, Mu, and Annonrial remained silent. The first looked at Cielia defiantly, the second with interest, the third warily, and the last representatives looked at her with such impenetrable indifference that it became creepy.

  "Just as we thought," said Cielia, looking over everyone present. "None of you want to stand under the wing of His Imperial Majesty. Very well, the boots of our soldiers will walk across your lands and level all cities to the ground! If you want to see the power of our weapons firsthand, His Imperial Majesty does not object. When it finally reaches you, you may visit the Foreign Affairs Bureau. Our Emperor's ultimatum has been delivered. Honor to..."

  She fell silent, seeing the Russian diplomat raise his hand, and the clamor, with the help of the organizer, quickly subsided.

  "Thank you..." said Alexey, looking around the hall. "I inform you that the Government of the Russian Federation, in the future conflict, will emphatically maintain Armed Neutrality."

  Everyone fell silent at once and, losing interest in Cielia, looked at the head of the Russian delegation.

  "We are not taking any side and do not support anyone," continued Alexey. "We consider it a waste of time, and we also believe that Mr. Moriaul is completely right. It is necessary to prepare for a large-scale war with the Ravernal Empire. I am finished. Thank you."

  "With that, the first day of the conference session is declared closed," the Herald announced.

  An hour after the session ended, in one of the high-end luxury suites of the hotel, Cielia met with a representative of the Russian delegation. The atmosphere in the room was calm but tense. A man of about forty, dressed in a black suit, rose to meet her, nodding slightly:

  "Greetings, Cielia."

  "Do you have them?" she asked without unnecessary introductions, getting straight to the point.

  The man chuckled.

  "Yes, safe and sound. We fished them out of the Sea of Okhotsk."

  Her voice trembled, but she tried to keep herself together.

  "...Can you return them?"

  "We will keep twenty of them. That will serve as a guarantee of security and goodwill. The rest—we will hand over at the agreed-upon location, just as discussed," he answered.

  Cielia nodded silently, internally weighing what she had heard.

  "O... okay," she squeezed out, giving a barely perceptible nod.

  "That is excellent," he concluded calmly.

  The next day, at 3:00 AM Moscow time, combat groups of the Main Directorate escorted thirty-six Gra-Valkan scouts aboard the super-dreadnought Atlastar. The massive ship towered over the water like a steel colossus.

  The Gra-Valkan spies being returned looked haggard. Some of them could barely stand on their feet, and their eyes betrayed an extreme degree of exhaustion. It had all started with an ambitious operation by their intelligence service.

  They had been sent with one simple order—to infiltrate the territory of the Russian Federation, study its power, and gather as much information as possible regarding weaponry and military hardware. But not a single scout was ready for what awaited them.

  The operation began with the cautious deployment of fifty-six agents on three small submersible vessels. Their route lay through the Sea of Okhotsk—a harsh and inhospitable body of water.

  Two weeks in, food supplies began to run out, and the agents, like in old tales of sea voyages, began to be tormented by thirst. By the start of the fourth week, they had turned into emaciated shadows, shivering from cold and hunger. The superpower intelligence service, which considered itself invincible, turned out to be helpless in the face of harsh nature.

  When they were fished out by Russian fishermen and handed over to FSB officers, the Gra-Valkan scouts expected the worst. They were certain they would be tortured, for in their imagination, the "Uncivilized Lands" were inhabited by barbarians. However, reality proved to be far more sophisticated.

  Instead of torture, they were met by psychotherapists and specialists in information warfare. The exhausted agents were placed in clean cells with beds and hot food. This unexpected hospitality broke them psychologically far more than any physical torture could have.

  "Torture is obsolete," a Counter-Intelligence officer explained to his colleagues while observing the process. "Modern methods work on the level of the psyche. We don't need to break their bodies; it is enough to break their will."

  Each spy was methodically interrogated, the information wrung out of them like water from a floor rag. Using manipulation, they forced the agents to say everything they knew.

  By morning, all the collected data had been transferred to the analytical centers. The representation of the Gra-Valkas Empire, upon barely learning the fate of their scouts, sent an official request for their return.

  That same day, at six in the morning Moscow time, the Gra-Valkan delegation left Cartalpas heading west, and this was only the beginning of a large-scale conflict unfolding in the naval arena.