The Governor sat at his desk and waited as the hours ticked away.

Upon his window soon sounded the pitter patter of the rain, which was a rarely seen thing in the mostly desert landscape of Muspelheim.

He pondered his life as he looked upon the night sky outside.

The heavens had looked much like this on the night he’d killed his father.

He was only sixteen when he took over the settlement, and then he tried to conquer their neighbours.

He’d failed more than once, even had to flee and start over elsewhere once or twice, but a Gold Class was a Gold Class and he never had any trouble bullying others into submission.

His was a life of conflict and aspiration, with the heartfelt desire to climb up and claw his way to the top.

The Governor leaned back in his seat and turned his eye from the windy world outside.

He had always been gifted, he was the only Gold Class born to his nobody of a father.

He never picked a fight with his betters, instead he proved always careful, ready to pick a fight only when he was sure that he could win.

That then was the question he wanted answered, was the coming battle one he could profit from or not?

He glanced beside him towards a young man clad in white garment, his 67th son, Craine, who like his siblings only radiated an admittedly powerful but still Silver Class aura.

Crux had twenty two wives and as many as seventy one sons, including the dead ones, yet none of those sons had inherited Gold Class might from their mothers, not one.

He naturally did hold such a woman in his care, but she was too low in standing it seemed to provide him such an heir.

Indeed, she was only the lowest among her Class, barely better than their Silver peers, so it wasn't likely she'd produce an heir on equal standing.

Yet, in time, she had, and the only child that had managed to achieve that proved to be one of his fifteen daughters, that was Ciara, the apple of his eye.

The door clicked open then and that very girl walked into the room.

She was still clad in crimson, though she’d tossed aside the rather showy and skimpy dancers garment for a noblewoman’s coat and dress.

Crux could tell that her mood was sour at a glance, and it wasn’t long before she kicked the door shut behind her with far more force than necessary.

She stepped forward and sat upon the ledge of the window. Her father did not even need a glance to tell her state of mind.

“How’d it go?” He asked her, though he could guess it already.

The girl scoffed in frustration and sent a glance towards the far distant table that lay hidden in the shadow of the doorway.

Her father and brother both followed her glare. They knew what she was looking at, what was hiding over there.

“All I saw was a pair of sickening sweethearts,” She said.

Alexander had all but ignored her attempts to charm him and why would he not? Rusalka was a good few leagues above her, though she loathed to admit it.

“How can a woman like that even exist? It’s ridiculous,” She complained aloud as her father rubbed his temple in frustration.

He’d warned her already that the women of Venus were abnormally beautiful even compared to normal women in their respective class.

Rumour had it that their bloodline had mutated over generations to produce such a result.

He knew not of their curse, but he did know the cover story that said no man born in Venus is allowed to stay there.

Those women thus needed to snatch in a fish from elsewhere, and so they’d sharpened their metaphorical hooks towards achieving that end.

“Is that all you have for me?” Crux said as he cast a frown upon his favoured daughter.

Bratty and spoiled though the girl might be, she was not dull of wit. He’d put his all into raising her, unlike her many brothers and sisters.

“The man has the face of a buffoon...but I sense he’s the sort that thinks he’s clever,” Ciara replied.

Her assessment was coloured quite heavily by her own bias, but her father still understood that she was telling him that Alexander was more clever than he looks at first glance.

“And as for the woman...be careful.” Only two words, but they were enough to raise her father’s brow.

They did need to be careful of Rusalka, that was Ciara’s honest opinion of her. Her own bias didn’t even rear its head there.

The son then turned his head as footsteps echoed beyond the chamber door.

They were two, a man’s heavy boots and a woman’s light steps.

The handle twisted, the door opened with a click and then two figures appeared before them once bidden and welcomed.

One was a man standing almost three meters tall, a Gold Class youth whom Crux could tell was at the absolute least his better in terms of pedigree.

The other was a woman who was up to his chest in height, that, it seemed, was the Lady of Venus, Rusalka, whom he’d just been told to be cautious about.

“Your reputation precedes you,” Crux said, rising to his feet and then presenting the couple a bow.

Rusalka released Alexander’s arm and then pinched the corners of her dress to greet the governor with a curtsy. She showed him her best business smile, just like he did in return.

“Governor of Crux...or perhaps, should I name you, Crux of Crux?” She said in a rather playful manner.

The Governor smiled back at her, but on the inside he acknowledged that it was indeed a bad idea in hindsight for him to have named his city after himself like he had done.

“Crux of Antil,” He said, once again bowing his head, “At your service.”

Rusalka took her seat, and Crux watched her carefully from start to finish. He couldn't see through her, and not for lack of trying. Inexperience was about this woman's only weakness, he could be sure of that much.

He glanced at her husband next, for the man bid to stand like a guard by her side rather than seize the seat offered him. He then noticed a sudden tension rise in the room.

He turned his eye back to the Lady of Venus, who seemed to have grown impatient.

The man followed her gaze to find his son, Craine, staring in a daze upon the Lady.

Her business-like smile remained unfaltering as she crossed her legs and turned away from the lad, but her husband was less accommodating.

Indeed Alexander met the boy with a frown, and then the son trembled as if in terror of some dreadful predator.

“I apologize on his behalf,” Said Crux, who shot his son an ice cold glare.

The lad stumbled back, he did not dare to meet his father’s gaze. His eye wandered, it wandered right into Ciara’s direction. Her lips moved, no sound came out, but he could still infer her meaning well enough.

‘Pa~the~tic’ that’s what she was saying.

Alexander scoffed, then he too turned his gaze away from the boy. He leaned over and whispered something into his bride's ear.

The Lady tapped her knuckle to his chest in return.

The son and daughter both pondered what he’d whispered, but they had no doubt that it was just about the all too foolish former, only Crux himself did not think so.

He wondered if perhaps Alexander had noticed something, he wondered if perhaps he’d just told it to Rusalka in turn.

He knew, after all, the rumours of Saturn's men and their spectacular abilities, though he never thought such a young man could be capable of using them yet.

Hence Crux frowned for a fairly different reason, he had no choice but to evaluate this couple highly, they weren’t likely to be played for fools.

“I’m not offended,” Said Rusalka, “it’s the same everywhere I go.”

She wasn’t lying, Ciara, who sat at the back, certainly knew so. With a scoff she remembered how Rusalka acted in the circle.

Every time the men looked at her, which was often, she’d return the gaze but only tighten her grip on Alexander’s arm.

She was either frightened of them, which was unlikely, or she was blatantly showing off.

The Lady of Venus had no words however, if asked she wouldn’t even answer.

She’d long since become all too familiar with the effect her appearance had on the people around her, both the men and indeed the women too.

She didn’t really care before, in fact she found it bothersome, yet after getting married, after meeting Alexander, her attitude had changed quite a bit.

Ciara’s conclusion was ultimately the right one, she was showing off, she was showing her husband off by clinging to him in front of the salivating masses.

The governor coughed to break the awkward silence. He locked eyes with The Lady of Venus and her groom a moment after.

His instincts, honed across a lifetime of struggle, were informing him that he could not look down on this duo, sickening sweethearts they may seem to be.

“I wonder,” The man said, leaning forward and tenting his fingers. “What is it you’ve come here for, may I ask?” The Lady of Venus stared back at him, even now she did not forget to maintain her smile.

She raised her hand, then gently placed something down upon the table.

That “something” was a stamp which radiated a bright golden glow.

The man before her shivered, he could tell that while this item had no power itself its creator was no mere nobody. Something like this could only be brought into this world by a Platinum Class, that much he knew all too well.

‘So, the rumours were true after all,” He realised, 'That is Jupiter’s Seal.’

He had known already that countless Bronze and Silver Class Settlements were sure to eye up Venus’ survivors after their city fell.

Indeed, he was one of them, but rumours of this seal being in Rusalka’s hands had made the lot of them back down before too long.

Since then those survivors had gone from one settlement to another and had reportedly announced to the world that they wanted to build an army to resist the forces of Nidhogg that were to land upon their shores.

“As I’m sure you are aware,” Rusalka said as she lifted her thin and gentle fingers from the seal, “Venus was recently destroyed by an insurgent force. This has left the whole kingdom vulnerable to invasion by the Nidhogg Empire. By the order of Princess Lucretia of Jupiter, I plan to raise an army to resist them. I’ve come to you, Governor of Crux, to request men for this venture.”

Sure enough it was as he’d figured, but the knowledge that he’d been correct in his assumptions did not soften the blow one bit.

“In exchange for this, which is already your civic duty, I will be generous enough to upgrade your city to Silver Class. How does that idea strike you, Governor?”

The man’s lower lip lay agape for a short while. He stroked his chin in pondering. He had many sons, it didn’t seem like a poor trade to lose one or two of them in a war if it meant upgrading his city’s status like that.

From the way Rusalka put it, all cities participating in the war effort could get some kind of reward for doing so. Conversely, those who refused to help would be doomed whether or not they or the Nidhogg won the war.

Rusalka was extending them an offer in some ways, but it was a threat in others.

Crux cracked a smile, his gaze then turned to the corner of the room, towards that table in the shadow of the door.

Rusalka and Alexander both proved quick studies, indeed they recognised that the man was not implying anything in so much as he was directly telling them that something was there.

The duo picked up on his warning in an instant but nobody turned to face that table, on the contrary, they carried on talking business until the hour grew later still.

“A wise choice, Governor of Crux,” Said the Lady of Venus.

She was indeed very satisfied with the man before her.

Wise, cunning, devious, ambitious and yet well aware of what risks he could and could not afford to take.

He struck her as the kind of man who only had thoughts about profits and gains, an easy enough type to get along with, she thought, as long as you had the means.