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“With respect to the Lady,” said Graves, “I do not think you do get it. These battlefields that I have shown you. Just involving Vantalay alone, how many do you think there are?”

She did not grace him with an answer.

He didn’t wait long. “Thirteen. One involving Czacoa, two with Naos, two with Yena Maria, this one here in Ridgemark, an additional one near Vantalay’s own capital, four more with Lyste along the western border, and then two others out in the Luthic Ocean regarding trade routes and pirates. So to your question of why I want your help: this is why. Out of the five active war fronts on the continent, this Vantalayan one is by far the messiest. And while it is very fortunate that I can be in more than one place at a time, thirteen is still a bit beyond me.”

That argument seemed to have struck a chord, because the Rainlords fell briefly quiet.

It was the Lord Santos Zabat who picked up the slack. “But the fact remains that there is not a single soldier on any of these battlefields who can stand against you.”

“Would that were so,” said Graves. “I have already died six times since my arrival in this country. Whenever I show myself, I become a point of great focus for the Vantalayans. Even I have trouble dealing with constant barrages of soul-infused missiles and machine gun fire. Which is to say nothing of the VAF’s elite unit of assassins that is constantly stalking me and waiting for even the slightest perceived opening to try and kill me permanently. Not to mention, there are actually a couple of warriors within the VAF that can threaten me on the battlefield if I am not careful.”

Huh.

Damn.

Diego didn’t know the guy had it that bad. He’d always figured that the marshals had it kinda easy, considering how powerful they all were. But yeah, he supposed being the guy with the biggest target on his back might not be so fun in a warzone.

And when the Rainlords grew quiet again, Graves’ tone shifted to one of confusion. “Are you really that surprised? Who do you think I am? Sermung?”

Mevox chose that moment to chime in. ‘Wow. I never knew marshals could be such whining pussies.’

“Okay, who let that reaper talk again? I thought we agreed last time that he would stay silent.”

“Sorry,” said the Lord Salvador Delaguna.