Gave City — Flister Restaurant
"This is a good place," Kleber said as he looked around the restaurant.
Polished wood.
Soft lantern light.
Private rooms hidden behind silk partitions.
The sort of establishment where nobles discussed assassinations over expensive tea.
"Thank you," Auray replied mildly.
"One of my better investments."
The four of them sat down.
Adrean loosened the clasp on his coat slightly.
"Apologies for calling you here, Baron."
"You must be tired after the gathering."
"These are worrying times," Logos replied calmly.
"I am fairly certain rest is not our greatest problem, Your Highness."
Adrean gave him a strange look.
"It is still strange hearing you speak respectfully."
Logos blinked once.
"You are the First Prince of Gab."
"You did not seem particularly concerned about that at the banquet."
Auray hid a smile behind his teacup.
"Well," the Chancellor said mildly,
"The Baron did criticize you rather openly."
"With all due respect," Logos said calmly,
"His Highness needed to hear that."
Adrean let out a short breath through his nose.
"Direct as always."
"Cruelty is often the clearest way to make a point."
"Just between us," Adrean muttered,
"I agree."
A pause.
"But next time, send it in a letter."
"That would reduce public humiliation," Logos replied.
"Yes."
"But it would also reduce the impact."
Adrean groaned quietly.
"See?"
"That is exactly the problem."
Auray set his cup down.
"Now then," he said.
"Let us discuss why you are actually here."
Adrean's expression hardened slightly.
"The gathering of heirs."
Auray looked toward Logos.
"How bad was it?"
"Bad," Logos replied immediately.
"Out of approximately eighty heirs, only two demonstrated meaningful initiative."
A pause.
"There were perhaps twenty with enough competence to be useful."
Auray looked unsurprised.
"That few?"
Kleber leaned back in his chair.
"Most of them are still pretending the war is something that will happen to someone else."
Adrean folded his arms.
"They are not ready."
"No," Logos replied.
"And worse…"
"They believe they are."
Auray gave a quiet hum.
"The most dangerous kind of incompetence."
Logos nodded once.
"They still think titles create capability."
Adrean looked away slightly.
"They are children."
"No," Logos replied calmly.
"They are future liabilities."
Silence followed.
Auray looked mildly amused.
"You really do speak like a tax collector planning an execution."
"I considered one," Logos said.
"But Sous objected."
Kleber lowered his head into his hands.
"Please stop helping the rumors."
Adrean leaned forward slightly.
"So tell me honestly."
His eyes remained fixed on Logos.
"If the war began tomorrow…"
"How long would Gab last?"
Logos thought for a moment.
Then—
"Two years."
The room went still.
Adrean's expression sharpened.
"That little?"
"Yes."
Auray did not interrupt.
He simply watched.
"Gab has more resources," Logos said.
"But Farosian leadership is more militarized than ours."
"They are less refined."
"Less political."
"More practical."
His eyes shifted toward Adrean.
"And Talon will exploit that."
Adrean's jaw tightened.
Auray tapped the table once.
"Then we kill him."
The answer came immediately.
Cold.
Simple.
Expected.
Logos looked at him.
"That is the obvious answer."
"And?"
"And obvious answers are usually the hardest ones."
Adrean frowned.
"You think we cannot do it?"
"Talon as an individual is comparable to entire formations."
"He is a symbol of awe for his soldiers…"
"And a source of fear for his enemies."
A pause.
"He is an ideology."
The room was silent now.
Even Kleber had stopped moving.
"Not to mention," Logos continued quietly,
"He seems to be driven by a hatred large enough to survive reason."
"And even if he dies…"
"There is likely someone else prepared to replace him."
Adrean narrowed his eyes.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Logos met his gaze.
"A dog's death."
Kleber quietly closed his eyes.
Of course.
"What does that mean?" Adrean asked.
"It means Talon cannot die gloriously."
Logos's voice remained calm.
"He is not simply a commander."
"He is a story."
"If he dies like a hero…"
"He becomes immortal."
Auray slowly leaned back in his chair.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"So," Adrean said slowly,
"You want to humiliate him."
"No."
Logos looked at him.
"I want to erase him."
The words landed heavily.
"He dies alone."
"Cornered."
"Outnumbered."
"No speeches."
"No witnesses."
"No glory."
Adrean looked at him for a long moment.
Then—
For the first time—
He smiled.
Coldly.
"Now that…"
He leaned back slightly.
"That sounds like something I can work with."
Auray remained silent.
But behind his cup—
He was smiling too.
"So how do we do it?" Adrean asked.
"First," Logos replied,
"Logistics."
He pulled a thick notebook from inside his coat and placed it on the table.
Adrean frowned immediately.
"What?"
Logos looked at him for a second.
"Were you expecting a legendary weapon that could kill Talon in one strike?"
"That would be stupid," Adrean replied.
"He absolutely was," Auray said.
Adrean looked offended.
"I was not."
"You were," Auray replied calmly.
"My lord," Logos said,
"I am a scholar."
"Not a miracle worker."
Adrean crossed his arms.
"You have made enough monstrosities that the distinction is becoming less meaningful."
"That is unfair."
Kleber lowered his face into his hands.
"This is the worst meeting I have ever been part of."
"No," Auray said calmly.
"It is merely the first honest one."
Silence followed.
Then Logos opened the notebook.
"I have been studying the findings of George Liverpool."
Adrean frowned.
"The supply scholar?"
"Yes."
"The one who starved three rebel territories into surrender with a fraction of their manpower?"
"Yes."
Logos pushed the notebook forward.
Inside were detailed diagrams.
Wagons reinforced with metal frames.
Rotating wheel systems.
Portable repair stations.
Preplanned supply routes marked with symbols and time intervals.
Even temporary rail segments.
"I do not understand any of this," Adrean admitted.
"But it looks expensive."
"Advantages rarely look cheap," Logos replied.
"In exchange, this allows faster supply lines, faster troop movement, and significantly greater endurance."
He tapped one of the pages.
"If Talon is stronger than us directly…"
"Then we attack what he relies on."
"Food."
"Movement."
"Replacement soldiers."
"Repair capabilities."
Auray studied the notebook quietly.
Then he looked at Logos.
"You are the only person in Gab who can make this."
"Yes."
"That means if we use this system…"
Auray's eyes sharpened slightly.
"…we become dependent on Laos."
The room grew quieter.
Logos did not deny it.
"Temporarily," he replied.
"Dependency is unavoidable in emergencies."
Adrean looked between them.
Then leaned back.
"…You really are dangerous."
"Yes," Logos replied simply.
"And useful."
That made Auray laugh softly into his tea.
For a moment, the room relaxed.
Then Adrean's expression shifted again.
More serious now.
"If we rely on Laos," he said,
"what stops you from turning that leverage against us later?"
Kleber looked mildly offended.
Logos just looked confused.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you could."
"That is not an answer."
Adrean folded his arms.
"You would control movement."
"Supply."
"Production."
"If the kingdom became dependent on your systems…"
"You could force almost anything."
Auray watched carefully.
Because this—
This was the real question.
Not war.
Not Talon.
Trust.
Logos thought for a moment.
Then—
"Because I live here."
Silence.
"I do not benefit from destroying the kingdom that contains all of my assets."
He gestured vaguely.
"My factories are here."
"My workers are here."
"My resources are here."
"My research is here."
A pause.
"You are asking if I would burn my own house down because it gives me leverage over the neighbors."
Adrean looked at him.
Then slowly exhaled.
"…When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."
"It was."
Auray chuckled quietly.
"Then perhaps," he said,
"the more relevant question is not whether we should fear dependence…"
He looked at Logos.
"…but whether we can survive long enough without it."
That silence felt heavier.
Because this time—
No one had an answer.