THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

"I propose we rescue him properly," David countered, meeting her gaze directly. "With preparation, intelligence, and a strategy that doesn't simply replace one prisoner with another. A strategy that advances our original mission rather than abandoning it."

The tension between them crackled with nearly physical intensity—not simply disagreement, but the collision of fundamentally different leadership philosophies. Where Elara embodied direct confrontation and righteous action, David represented calculated patience and multi-layered planning. Their dynamic seemed to polarize the laboratory, with the others unconsciously shifting positions to align with one approach or the other.

"Every moment we delay is another moment Salomonis spends in interrogation," Elara argued, her voice dropping to a dangerous register that carried more threat than her previous volume. "Another moment my sister stands vulnerable without proper support."

David nodded, acknowledging her concern without yielding his position. "And every premature action risks converting a temporary setback into a permanent defeat. If we move against the Duke without understanding the full scope of his resources and intentions, we risk losing everything—not just Salomonis, but Lysora itself, and any chance of uncovering who truly sent those assassins after you."

Their gazes remained locked in silent battle, neither willing to yield ground in this clash of wills. In that moment, despite his diminished abilities, David projected an authority that matched Elara's aristocratic command—different in nature but equal in intensity.

Luna, who had remained watchful throughout this exchange, finally broke her silence. "David's assessment of the Castle's defenses is accurate," she noted with the professional detachment of someone who had likely conducted her own analysis. "A frontal approach would be... inadvisable."

Something in her tone—perhaps the subtle emphasis on "frontal"—caught David's attention. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his Aetenus, recognizing the unspoken suggestion behind her words.

"There's another consideration," Litty added unexpectedly, her earlier shock at Seraphina's revelations apparently set aside in favor of tactical assessment. "Minister Salomonis is formidable in his own right. Despite the official detention, he may have more agency in this situation than is immediately apparent."

This observation introduced a new variable into the equation—one that seemed to give Elara momentary pause. She knew Salomonis better than anyone present, having worked closely with him for years. The implied reminder of his capabilities seemed to temper her urgency slightly.

"Salomonis does have certain... advantages," Elara admitted reluctantly. "The magic tower has always shown him unusual favor. Even in detention, his connection to arcane sources would remain intact." The Magic Tower was known to bestow special privileges on those it deemed worthy, regardless of political standing or physical location. Salomonis had long been among its favored scholars, granting him access to powers and knowledge that even his captors might not fully comprehend.

"And let us not forget," Litty added, her melodic voice carrying unexpected pragmatic undertones, "that the demon wearing Count Nicalo's form nearly succeeded in eliminating you once. If you announce your presence in the capital by confronting the Duke directly, you provide this entity a second opportunity with far greater resources at its disposal."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Elara asked, her tone still sharp but no longer burning with immediate action.

David recognized the small opening and moved deliberately to expand it. "I'm suggesting a measured response that accounts for all variables. A plan that incorporates proper intelligence gathering, resource allocation, and contingency preparation."

He straightened, decision crystallizing. "Give me twenty-four hours to develop a comprehensive solution. One that addresses not just Salomonis's extraction, but the underlying threat to Lysora County and continues our investigation into the demonic infiltration of imperial nobility."

"Twenty-four hours?" Elara repeated incredulously, flames briefly flaring again around her hands. "While the Duke consolidates his position and potentially accelerates his timetable? Unacceptable."

"It's the minimum timeframe required to—"

"Twelve," Elara interrupted, her tone making it clear this was not a suggestion but a final offer. "You have twelve hours to present a viable strategy. After that, I proceed with or without your assistance."

The ultimatum hung between them, heavy with implication. David studied her with careful assessment, recognizing both the compromise she'd offered and the immovable determination behind it. After a measured silence, he inclined his head in acceptance.

"Twelve hours," he agreed, his voice carrying the weight of commitment. "But I'll need resources, information, and cooperation from everyone present."

The atmosphere in the laboratory shifted subtly as the confrontation resolved into focused purpose. Elara's flames finally extinguished completely as she nodded her acceptance of the arrangement.

"Twelve hours," she confirmed, her tone still carrying a dangerous edge. "Beginning now."

Without waiting for further discussion, David turned to Seraphina. "Contact Angelica immediately. I need comprehensive surveillance of the Castle's current security rotation patterns, with particular attention to the detention level access protocols. Also, have her track Count Nicalo's movements—I want to know his exact location at all times, if possible, outside the castle."

Seraphina nodded, already moving toward the doorway with purposeful strides. "I'll establish a relay through our network. Full reports within the hour."

"Yue," David continued, turning to the diminutive alchemist. "Your theory on dimensional translocation—the principles we discussed with the Guild Master. How quickly could you develop a practical application?"

Yue's eyes widened momentarily before narrowing with calculating assessment. "You weren't simply fabricating that research to appease Vernathan, were you?" A slow, appreciative smile spread across her childlike features. "Interesting. With proper facilities and materials, perhaps eight to ten hours for a basic prototype. Less with assistance."

"You'll have both," David promised. He glanced toward Draven, who had maintained his silent vigil throughout the confrontation. "Escort Yue to the De Gror estate greenhouse. Vivian will provide whatever materials she requires."

The massive knight inclined his helmet in acknowledgment before moving to Yue's side with surprising grace for one of his imposing dimensions.

"The greenhouse?" Yue questioned, her scientific curiosity evidently piqued. "What exactly are you cultivating there that would assist with dimensional research?"

"More than chocolate," David replied cryptically. "Draven will explain en route."

As the others dispersed to their assigned tasks, Elara remained beside David, her earlier fury now transformed into focused intensity. The transition from confrontation to cooperation remained fragile, balanced on the knife edge of his promised twelve-hour solution.

"I hope you understand what's at stake," she said quietly when the others had moved beyond earshot. "This isn't merely political maneuvering—Mariana is all the family I have left. And Salomonis, despite his eccentricities, has been loyal beyond any reasonable expectation."

David met her gaze directly, understanding flowing between them that transcended their tactical disagreement. "I know," he assured her, his voice softening for the first time during their exchange. "And I promise you, when the twelve hours expire, we'll have more than just a plan."

Something in his tone—absolute certainty untainted by bravado—caused Elara to study him with renewed attention. "You've been anticipating this," she realized, insight sharpening her perception. "Not just considering it as a possibility—actively preparing for it."

Instead of answering directly, David glanced toward Luna, who had remained nearby during the tactical discussion. "Begin preparations for Pattern Seven," he instructed, using a designation that clearly held specific meaning between them. "Full implementation, all assets activated. Coordinate with Angelica's existing surveillance operation, but ensure we have redundant monitoring on all critical targets."

Luna's golden eyes gleamed with predatory anticipation. "As you wish, Master." Without further explanation, she melted into the shadows with uncanny efficiency, departing to execute whatever Protocol Seven entailed.

"My... asscociates," David explained, turning back to Elara. "They've been establishing contingencies throughout the capital for months. Not specifically for Salomonis's detention, but for various scenarios that might threaten our operations. Including identifying which nobles might have connections to demonic entities."

Elara's expression shifted through several emotions—surprise, reassessment, and something approaching reluctant admiration. "You really do plan for everything, don't you?"

"Not everything," David admitted, a hint of his usual wry humor finally surfacing. "For instance, I hadn't planned on explaining the existence of my shadow network to the Archon of Lysora quite so soon."

Despite the gravity of their situation, Elara's lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. "Twelve hours, David. Make them count."

His response carried the quiet confidence of someone already seeing patterns beyond the immediate chaos. "Every second."

As she turned to depart, following Litty toward the laboratory exit, David remained beside the makeshift map he'd constructed from broken glass. His fingers moved across the improvised representation of the capital, adjusting pieces with the practiced precision of a chess master envisioning moves far beyond the current position.

The Duke had made his opening gambit. Now, with the countdown of twelve precious hours already begun, David would craft his response—a solution that would need to satisfy not just the tactical requirements of extracting Salomonis, but the emotional demands of the fiery Archon who had reluctantly placed her trust in his strategic approach. And somewhere beneath it all, the mystery of demonic infiltration and assassination attempts remained to be solved—a thread that connected everything from Count Nicalo to the Duke's unexplained behavior.

The glass shards caught the laboratory's uneven light, casting fragmented reflections across his focused features as possibilities unfolded before his mind's eye like blooming fractals of potential futures.