CHAPTER 62: DELEGATION OF AUTHORITY
"What the hell happened here?" John asked dryly, leaning against the doorframe.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Governor McGraw threw his hands in the air and dropped half the documents in his arms onto the floor.
"What happened?!" McGraw blurted out, taking three rapid steps toward John as if John were his lifeline.
"I'll tell you what happened! Your betrothed happened! She completely hijacked my city's diplomacy!"
John didn't move, merely raising a single eyebrow as he looked at Raven.
Princess Raven hadn't even shifted in the plush leather chair. She sat with her ankles crossed, lazily twirling a golden quill between her slender fingers.
A faint, imperceptible smirk touched the corner of her lips, though her crimson eyes remained cold and unbothered.
"Explain," John said, turning his gaze back to McGraw.
McGraw ran both hands through his hair, pacing in front of the desk.
"Okay, so you remember how you told me to set up a meeting with the Merchant Guild leadership before you decided to enter a four-day magic coma?" McGraw began, his voice rising an octave.
"Well, they showed up on day three. Four high-ranking representatives, led by Marcus Vance—the most calculating, ruthless bastard in the southern territory. They brought armed guards and were practically screaming for blood over Master Ronald's death."
"Right," John said calmly. "And since I was unconscious, you let Raven talk to them."
"I didn't let her!" McGraw gestured wildly toward Raven.
"She stepped up because you were out cold! I thought we were going to conduct a tense, high-stakes political negotiation. You know, offer some economic concessions, stall for time, play the noble game..."
McGraw stopped, swallowing hard as he looked at Raven with a mixture of genuine awe and lingering terror.
"Instead, within five minutes of stepping into the parlor, one of the merchants made a crude comment about her. Before I could even open my mouth to reprimand the idiot, a literal skeleton materialized out of thin air behind him and slit his throat!"
John glanced at Raven. "…Nice."
"Nice?!" McGraw gasped, wide-eyed.
"Ethan, his blood ruined a three-thousand-gold-coin rug! And then—and then her beast turned into a three-meter-tall nightmare construct and crushed a guard's head like a ripe melon! The room looked like a slaughterhouse in under ten seconds!"
Raven casually placed the golden quill back into its inkwell, her voice silky as she finally spoke up.
"He was disrespectful. I merely corrected his manners."
"Then why the hell did you have to ruin my parlor?!" McGraw yelled before catching himself and lowering his voice, nervously looking toward the hallway.
"And that's not even the worst part! After scaring the remaining merchants so badly they almost wet themselves, Marcus Vance figured out she was a Royal Necromancer from the Darkmire Kingdom."
John leaned off the doorframe, his interest piqued. "And how did he take that?"
"How do you think?!" McGraw exhaled loudly, slumping his shoulders. "The guy folded like a house of cards! But then... then she dropped your name."
John froze slightly, his gaze narrowing. "What did you tell them, Raven?"
Raven met his stare evenly, her crimson eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"I simply informed them of who they were dealing with. I told them you were the beloved son of the Void Mistress and the Crimson Emperor."
Silence stretched across the office.
John stared at her, deadpan. "...Really?"
"It worked, didn't it?" Raven replied smoothly, resting her chin on her hand.
"The Merchant Guild completely dropped all charges regarding Master Ronald's death. They agreed to clear your name on paper, absorb the financial losses, and sign a full non-aggression trade pact with Oakhaven. Marcus Vance even offered to send an official apology gift to our suite before sunset."
McGraw nodded frantically, pointing at her. "She's right! They were so terrified of starting an international war with a kingdom of dark magic wielders that they didn't just back off—they practically begged us to let them keep trading here! The entire Guild is completely subdued!"
McGraw sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at John with profound exhaustion.
"So yeah... She completely solved the Merchant Guild crisis while you were meditating. But now everyone in Oakhaven thinks you're an immortal dark prince, and I'm currently stuck acting as her personal secretary."
John looked from the stressed-out Governor to Princess Raven, who offered him a small, victorious tilt of her head.
A slow, dark smirk broke across John's face.
"Well," John said softly, stepping fully into the room as the Bestiar girl quietly followed behind him, her tail wagging.
"Sounds to me like she handled it perfectly."
John walked into the room and pulled out one of the leather armchairs, sinking into the cushions with a long sigh.
He stretched his legs out, the Bestiar girl instantly dropping to the floor right beside his seat like a dutiful shadow.
"We need to leave soon," John said, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at McGraw. "Have you finished setting up everything for our departure?"
McGraw let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and tossed the stack of papers in his hands onto the desk.
"Yes, it's all done," McGraw muttered, running a hand over his face.
"You're cleared on paper, your travel passes are signed, and I've arranged your transport. You'll be leaving by sea."
Raven raised an eyebrow from behind the desk. "By sea?"
"Hey, don't look at me like that!" McGraw raised his hands defensively.
"Do you have any idea how insanely expensive it is to cover the distance between two whole continents?! I'm just the city lord of a small, backwater border town in this kingdom. I don't have unlimited funds or high-tier imperial backing to buy you guys space on a long-distance flying vessel or a high-grade teleportation artifact!"
John remained silent, his gaze drifting thoughtfully toward the window.
He recalled the ancient, volatile spatial artifact they had used to get here in the first place. The thing had completely malfunctioned midway through, tearing through spatial dimensions and nearly killing them before dumping them in Oakhaven.
Considering the sheer, absurd amount of distance they had covered in a single burst, that artifact must have been ridiculously powerful... even if it got ruined.
Raven let out a quiet sigh of her own, leaning back in McGraw's leather chair.
"How long will the sea voyage take to reach the other continent?"
"If the weather holds up and you don't run into sea monsters or pirate fleets? About two weeks," McGraw replied, crossing his arms.
"Two weeks..." Raven repeated softly, her tone carrying a mix of mild distaste and resignation. She shook her head, her crimson eyes turning toward John.
"Well... beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."
John gestured toward the Bestiar girl sitting obediently on the floor beside his chair.
"Before we go, get this collar off her," John said, looking directly at McGraw.
"I tried pulling it off myself, but it didn't work."
McGraw glanced down at the girl, nodding as he reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small, metallic key etched with faint blue runes.
"Right, the slave collar," McGraw said, stepping around the desk and kneeling beside her.
"Master Ronald had the main key on him when you... well, when he died. My guards confiscated his personal belongings after the incident."
He inserted the rune-covered key into the heavy lock at the base of her neck. With a soft, mechanical click, the heavy metal collar unlatched and fell away, clattering against the wooden floorboards.
The Bestiar girl instinctively reached up with both hands, rubbing the pale, bruised skin of her neck where the iron had rubbed against her for years.
She let out a small, almost imperceptible breath of relief, her tail swishing softly against the floor as she looked up at John with wide eyes.
John stood up from the armchair, adjusting his coat before turning his eyes toward Princess Raven.
"Raven, come with me for a second," John said, turning toward the private lounge door.
"There's something I need to ask you about."
Raven raised an eyebrow, her crimson eyes following him as he walked toward the side room. She didn't press him for details in front of the Governor; instead, she gracefully stood up from McGraw's desk, smoothed down her skirt, and stepped past the bewildered city lord.
"Try not to ruin anything in my inner sanctum this time," McGraw muttered under his breath, slumping back into his freshly reclaimed chair with a long, exhausted groan.
John closed the door behind them, sealing off the noise of the main office.