Either fairies had less power during the day or they had given their all defending the Midnight Forest. The latter was much more likely, but the real answer didn’t matter too much. John strutted through the unchanged trees, careful not to disturb the tiny, fantastic creatures that were resting on leaves and shades between the roots.

The only fairy that still moved was Methenia, dancing circles around a birch. Without her enigmatic home, the movements of the lanky woman seemed misplaced and downright comedic. Sure, she was still stepping with all the hypnotic grace of a viper and spinning with the fluidity of a lake, but all of that only heightened the impression that she was a fish out of water. In the normal sunlight of the normal forest the silky drapes wrapped around her looked like a normal material. Putting a compulsive dancer in that situation was about as serious as a drunk badger in a chocolate bar factory.

“My Earl,” Methenia greeted him, bowing in one step and twirling on with the next. “I have had an encounter with wife your third. She threatened the wholeness of my body and the end of my physical shell would be the end of my soul.”

‘What a convoluted way to say that she dies when she is killed,’ the Gamer thought. He didn’t have to guess who that third wife was supposed to be. Another question came related to that though. “Why do you call Eliza my third wife? We didn’t get married.”

“What is a marriage, but the decision of two people to share their life together?” Methenia asked.

“The promise given to share one’s life together, traditionally before a representative of a higher power and the community at large, because marriage is a level above a normal relationship,” John explained with a raised eyebrow. “If it was just the same as living together, we wouldn’t have it across cultures and it wouldn’t be a thing many people yearn for.”

“A silly tradition for silly beings,” the fairy decided, vanishing behind the trunk for a moment, then stepping back out. “What difference would there be, between the day preceding the promise and the day following it? Is your life not the same right now as it will have been then?”

“The difference is… no, never mind…” John had better things to do than argue the difference between a couple that was married and one that was not married with a being that was largely defined by the fact that she only looked human. Explaining the intricacies of human society and proven social constructs was a three-hour conversation/exploration in and of itself, especially once polygamy was added to the mix. “I am here to ask how things went on your front – and how bad the losses are.”

“The summoner of ash and rock delivered death to the shapes and souls of hundreds of my kind,” Methenia responded. “The wolf fell, as did the large gardener, and the little gardener as well. However, I remain, and with the way the court feels, it will be an easy task to reshape it, my Earl.”

John had no idea who or what those three were. Although he had the feeling he had seen the wolf – and was all too happy not to have to deal with that anymore. The last comment intrigued him. “Why would it be easy to reshape the court? If most of you died by Lakamun’s hand at the first day of you being here, won’t that be taken as a pretty bad omen?”

“The slaughter on the first day is, indeed, an ill-fated sign.” Methenia nodded, hands sliding over the surface of the tree as she did a quick circle around it. “Like the ashen ground of a large forest, consumed by fire, so too is the incineration of our kin a sign that these are fertile grounds. Especially as the fire happened in summer, my Earl. That aside, now that the little gardener is dead, I can invite my friend of the miniscule greenery. They had a feud, one I could not resolve by politics of my cousin fifth removed on my father’s side, and thus the death serves in convincing him. He knows many that will come.”

John tried to understand the idea of wanting to move somewhere where a large number of humans had been incinerated. ‘In order for me to move into a concentration camp, I either need to be bribed with a considerable sum of money or I need to be really desperate…’ he let that thought experiment trail away into his subconscious. At the very least the conflict part he could get. Politics were weird, especially the feudalistic types that fairy courts seemed to adhere to. Well, it was the closest equivalent.

The Gamer looked around the exhausted fairies. Several of them, as he now noticed in greater detail, were injured, but Gnome was already tending to that. Her healing powers weren’t all that great but, as long as they remained in the forest, they were present. He moved his mind to get her some help, but only ‘ran’ into an already ongoing communication.

‘Undine, do help me with this,’ the soil elemental called out to her younger sister. Of her usual shyness, very little was present. Instead, her voice was dominated by concern. Presented with such a clear request, the ocean elemental soon appeared and John pulled himself out of their coordination efforts.

“I’ll see to it that the Midnight Forest is restored as quickly as possible,” he continued his conversation with Methenia. “I think your people do better there.”

“They do,” the fairy confirmed. “As much as we like the summer and the sun, the summer and the moon are more pleasant. Lights dance more beautifully in the darkness.” John nodded along with that. “How many spans will it take you, my Earl? Or is it mere cycles that you’ll need?”

“…You’ll need to define those terms for me,” John stated, equally patient and curious. He didn’t expect to understand fairy culture anytime soon, but he liked getting bits and pieces at least. It was like taping together the lore of a game through diary pages scattered throughout it. “I assume a cycle is a day?” It could also be an entire year, depending on what cycled around what.

“A cycle is the time from when the sun rises and rises again, a span is the number of fingers on one hand,” Methenia responded swiftly, raising her own hand as she swept by. Quickly confirming that she did have five fingers.

“Does a span have varying lengths depending on the number of fingers someone has?” he asked.

“A span is the number of fingers on one hand,” Methenia just reiterated slowly, as if explaining things to a child.

“Careful,” Metra growled on his behalf. “The tone you take with your king dictates whether or not I will personally rip you to shreds one day.” For once, John didn’t scold her for this, but instead touched her butt some more. His hand hadn’t moved since they walked there and, with how stressful the day had been, he was in no mood to take any lip from some unattractive fairy he barely knew. Not that John generally liked getting talked to like that. Normally, he just had more patience for it.

“I apologize?” The fairy evidently didn’t know what she had done wrong, but knew better than to get on Metra’s bad side. “Daughter of Chaos, I mean no disrespect to our Earl. His court is where I reside, but he asks the questions of a child, so he will receive the education of one.”

The First of Wrath’s green eyes began to glow as her anger rose. Before she could do anything that John wouldn’t approve of, the Gamer slid his hand further down and trailed his skilled fingers over her cunt. Sexual Mastery made even this much immediately effective. That she had gotten worked up certainly helped. Either way, Metra was distracted from her aggressions by the sudden, soft moan she had to let out.

To be fair, John could have dissuaded her more reliably in different ways. For a start, he could have just told her to step down. That he went for this approach, he easily chalked up to his own returning Libido. Same was true for the next part. “Sit down, Metra,” he commanded, in the blissful way.

The ancient weapon obeyed, soon squatting on the floor, her face roughly at the level of his crotch. Immediately, she gasped lustfully, a rewarding jolt of pleasure rushing through her. The brown tint of her face darkened further as it flushed with desire. The smell of John’s cologne was more intense on that height, the Gamer having deliberately spread it that way. Not as well trained as Eliza, Metra didn’t suddenly start salivating with a wide open-mouth, ready for a facefuck, but the way she sat there definitely opened the possibility for training her towards that position.

“Good girl,” John’s dom instincts made him say, grabbing her by that highly convenient metal ring that gave her wild, blonde hair a semblance of order. He pulled her towards his pants, were a clear tent showed off his complete erection. And he stopped there. For the moment, all Metra got was the smell and feel of his cock under the pants.

He would see to it that they would have more fun as early as possible.

“I ask questions like a foreigner, Methenia,” the Gamer returned to the subject at hand as if nothing unusual was going on. Which, by his standards, there really wasn’t. The fairy seemed more interested in Metra’s behaviour than anything else. Certainly, she nor any other fairy seemed offended or bothered by the display. “You will either answer me with some respect or point me to someone who can educate me without being belligerent in the future. Either way, it should only take me a few hours to restore the Midnight Forest.”

In and of itself, repairing that area of the Guild Hall was of low priority. While interesting to look at and, no doubt, a point of prestige, it didn’t produce anything. Well, at least John hadn’t gotten any form of taxes out of the fairies yet. There might be a chance of that, if he asked in the future, but for now he just cared to resettle them where they belonged.

Of course, that was the first reason why he wanted the Midnight Forest back as soon as possible. Having the fairies roam around elsewhere could lead to a number of other problems. Just because they hadn’t changed Newman Shire yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t, especially once night rolled around. He had a second reason, which was purely political. Making the volcano, the most visible result of the Lake Alliance destruction, vanish quickly was good for optics.

To that end, he was pouring money into the repair functions of the Guild Hall. It was going to leave him without any personal savings to speak of. Fusion’s funds had also been used to this end (it was, by basically all accounts, a problem regarding a public place). In combination with the recent spending on Amacat and the festival, their coffers were left extremely empty. Austerity was something the Federation would have to engage in soon.

John just hoped he wouldn’t have to raise the taxes further. He wouldn’t hear the end from Scarlett. ‘Maybe I should ask her to gift the government some money…? No, she wouldn’t do that, unless things got really bad. Guess I have to ask her for loans instead,’ he sighed mentally. ‘What do I even love her for? Not like she does anything else for me aside from helping me plan, keep up an information network and keep tabs on my economy. Right, also sucking my dick. Rather important part, given how easily I am manipulated by that.’

“The court thanks the Earl for that splendid news.” Methenia did another bow in her next pirouette.

“If there is something you need in the meantime or to aid in the remaking of your court, let me know.” After saying that, John immediately felt his Wisdom present him with a clarification that he better add right now. “I am willing to provide you with almost anything within my power.”

“The blood of the enemy would sanctify the roots of our portals well, Earl Newman,” the fairy stated. “The one named Theron would do. I heard he was held by your lordship, so his is a blood you have current command over. I would gladly drench the new tree with it.”

‘Definitely a good thing I clarified almost anything,’ John thought, playing with Metra’s hair, hearing her heavy breathing. “How much blood?” he asked, if they were talking just a few drops, he could still oblige in a relatively sensible fashion.

“The contents of his veins, his heart and his mind,” Methenia stated. John did not need a translation for that one.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” the Gamer denied. “Rule of thumb, if it sounds like something the Aztec’s would do, we aren’t doing that here.”

“As you say, my Earl,” Methenia didn’t hide the disappointment in her uncannily calm, smooth voice. “The butterflies have taken flight, then.”

‘I guess that’s some idiom in the vein of ‘in that case, we’re done here’,’ John thought, not feeling like risking another minor confrontation. He was too horny and too busy to go on anymore. “If you need to contact me, send one of your quicker, smaller fairies to the Palace and find either me, one of my elementals or my maids. I will also send you a smartphone in the coming days.”

“Smar..t…phone?” Methenia responded, sounding highly uncertain for the first time. “What is such a thing, my Earl?”

“A communication device, I’ll make sure it’s explained to you when you get it,” John cut it short, then looked down to Metra. Knowing how powerful she was made that depraved look she got down there all the better. After making sure there was no more fairy in need of medical attention, he said his goodbyes and quickly guided everyone else into a quieter corner of the forest.