Everything unfolded precisely as Harmonie had anticipated. Hearing those words, the quick-tempered Feline flared up instantly!
Mandragora's tail bristled straight into the air. Glancing sharply at the green-haired Feline, she searched for any hidden motive behind the quiet provocation.
Mandragora had always detested Harmonie. The woman excelled at currying favor with their leader, effortlessly commanding attention every time she entered a room.
Worse still, Harmonie held a higher standing within Dublinn—at least in their leader's eyes. For Mandragora, who viewed herself as the leader's most loyal second, that subtle preference was a source of deep, simmering jealousy.
Was Harmonie setting a trap? Mandragora remained guarded, yet the core of the proposal proved undeniably tempting.
If she handled this threat alone, wouldn't their leader finally recognize her true value? Still, could she trust that Harmonie wasn't setting her up to fail?
"How can you be so certain this is important enough to disturb our leader?" Mandragora demanded, forcing her voice into a measured calm, though it still came out harsh and sharp.
Harmonie only smiled, maintaining a cryptic air that made Mandragora's brow furrow even deeper.
"It is critical," Harmonie murmured softly. "So critical it demands our leader's direct attention."
Mandragora despised that condescending composure, as if Harmonie held all the answers while everyone else remained utterly blind. "Stop playing games! Speak plainly or keep quiet!"
"What our leader cares about most might be walking these streets right now," Harmonie leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That 'unusual Vouivre' Ronan mentioned... she might not be a Vouivre at all."
She paused intentionally, watching Mandragora's patience wear thin, before adding, "There is a strong chance she is a Draco. And a Draco appearing at a moment like this... you know what that means for our cause."
"Impossible!" Mandragora snapped, outright rejecting the notion. "A Draco? The Draco bloodlines were wiped out long ago! Our leader's existence is a miracle of this world! How could another Draco suddenly surface out of nowhere—one we've never even heard of?!"
"There was one other," Harmonie corrected calmly, setting aside her faint smile, her expression shifting to cold gravity. "The Draco of the Artorius line, a descendant of the red dragons. Though she vanished years ago, and most assumed her dead. She is the last of that lineage. If she dies, our leader truly becomes the sole remaining Draco on Terra."
Mandragora's mind raced. Her immediate instinct was to eliminate the potential threat, preventing this intruder from trying to claim what belonged to her leader.
If that foreign dragon vanished, Dublinn's grand plan would proceed without a hitch. The Taran people would reclaim their long-lost heritage, and her leader would take her rightful seat upon the throne.
"I will take my squad and crush her!" Mandragora declared rashly—a move that looked almost suicidal to an outside observer, though Harmonie raised no objections.
"Take 'her' along as well," Harmonie suggested with apparent warmth, playing the part of a supportive colleague. "If this stranger truly is a Draco, standard Originium Arts won't be enough to bring her down. Only a dragon can match a dragon."
As Mandragora turned to march off and confront Talulah, Harmonie's eyes gleamed with a subtle, dark satisfaction.
Once Mandragora vanished down the hall, the pleasant facade dissolved completely. Harmonie retired to her private quarters, pulled out a encrypted transmitter, and dialed a secure frequency. Her tail flicked rhythmically as she waited for the line to connect.
"Why are you disturbing me now, Harmonie?" a cold, commanding voice answered through the static. Background noise suggested the speaker was currently in a delicate setting.
Yet out of deep trust for her most capable operative, the Draco leader had stepped aside into a quiet alcove to take the call.
"My leader, we encountered an unexpected development during our operations in County Hillock," Harmonie offered a polite apology. "I sincerely regret interrupting your work."
Hearing the formal tone, the leader's slight annoyance softened. "Go on."
"Though it remains unconfirmed, I received intelligence indicating that Talulah Artorius may have appeared in County Hillock. A low-tier recruit spotted her, and the physical description matches her traits closely."
Silence fell over the line. Even through the static, Harmonie could feel the brief wave of shock that washed over her leader.
"Verify it," the voice commanded sharply. "Confirm whether it is truly Talulah."
"I have already dispatched Mandragora to probe the situation," Harmonie reported smoothly. "She took 'her' along as well. Even if open conflict erupts, the two of them possess enough strength to break away and retreat."
A faint breath of approval came through the receiver, signaling that the leader found the arrangement satisfactory.
"Stop manipulating Mandragora," the leader added dryly after a short pause. "One of these days she'll realize what you're doing and try to take your head."
"She is a remarkably effective weapon, my leader," Harmonie chuckled softly, "even if her mind remains entirely crude. Rest assured, I won't drive her to a meaningless death; a brute like her still has her uses. But if she fails to mature, we will eventually need to purge such an unpredictable element from our ranks."
Though both held high positions within Dublinn, Harmonie held nothing but contempt for Mandragora's lack of intellect. Were it not for her devastating Earth Arts, Mandragora would never have earned her title.
Outside, the heavy boots of Dublinn soldiers echoed down the stone corridor. Mandragora was moving out, leading several squads of disguised troops along with a silent, imposing figure.
Mandragora walked with absolute confidence, anticipating the praise her leader would bestow upon her once the threat was eliminated. Then, she would finally put that green cat in her place and secure her spot right at her leader's side.
A twisted smile touched Mandragora's lips as she led her forces toward the coordinates Ronan had provided.
Meanwhile, back in the quiet cottage, the Feline woman wiped a tear from her cheek as she finished her story. "That's all I know. Ronan has been making those speeches to anyone who will listen, trying to rally people. I don't trust his grand promises. My late husband always warned me against violent uprisings, so I kept turning him down. I just don't know what will become of us..."
Jeanne and Talulah listened quietly, offering a few comforting words to the distressed mother.
"If only the Draco were still here to guide us," the woman murmured softly. "The old stories say the Draco were our true rulers, who once built prosperous cities for our people. Everyone says that if a Draco returned, everything would change for the better. Ronan promised the same thing..."
"No. Nothing would get better," Talulah interrupted, her voice heavy with grim certainty. "A Draco will not save Taran. A Draco brings only fire and ash—the merciless flame of violence, from which no beautiful flower can ever bloom."
Her eyes grew distant as she looked toward the window. "They will only burn everything to the ground."