Once the banquet was over, Matthias welcomed everyone to his war room. It had originally been one of the diplomatic rooms set up within the training camp. Matthias had made only two changes. The first was a massive map table sculpted from clay to depict the continent they all called home. The second was the iron-sand map along one of the walls. It was currently being used to depict the progress the hostile forces were making. Goblins moved tokens on the larger map to give a rough estimate of where everything stood.

  The room was a simple wooden affair but furnished with banners and silks for color. Potted plants occupied out-of-the-way corners. The seats were of sturdy wooden construction and generously padded on both the bottom and armrests. The seats had no backs so as not to interfere with the many individuals who possessed tails. Various lanterns hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in warm magical light.

  Matthias took the seat closest to where his dungeon was located on the map. Xalt sat to his left and Peter to his right. Maximus sat at the northernmost seat, where his capital was located, and Lady Tarlaniel sat between him and Peter. The other notable generals and advisors either took an empty seat or stood behind their respective leaders.

  “As you can see,” Matthias began, gesturing at the map, “the enemy is still a week away from making contact with my territories.”

  “What is it that you need from us?” Lady Tarlaniel asked neutrally. “Surely this is too much for even you to handle.”

  “The less you do, the better,” Matthias countered. “You misunderstand what is happening. This is not a war or a battle. This is a meal. Those are not enemies—they are buckets of mana.”

  Everyone blinked owlishly at him. It was Xalt who broke the silence first with a laugh.

  “In that case, you would not mind if I took some scraps?” he asked eagerly. “Not the living, but the bodies?”

  “I will make sure to deploy my Devourer away from your front in that case,” Matthias allowed. “It would not leave bodies.”

  “That thing should not exist,” Xalt countered. “For being a near-fully physical being, its mana sense is too accurate.”

  “Where there is magic, there is life,” Matthias replied. “It is simply a natural adaptation. Though I do agree that its population should stay limited.”

  “You have about forty dungeons’ worth of monsters bearing down upon you,” Maximus interrupted. “It looks like twenty are consolidating on the northern flank. Ten to the west and ten to the south. How can you cover that much land?”

  “The western flank is the most narrow,” Matthias noted dispassionately. “So I will deploy the Devourer there. Half the Fey will support it. I would prefer the Fall and Winter Courts.”

  “That seems awfully light,” Lady Tarlaniel hedged.

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  “You did not see the Devourer,” Xalt countered. “I assume it took out the Leech Dungeon alone?”

  Matthias nodded. “I expected it to struggle at some point,” he admitted. “But it is hard to describe just how toxic its blood is. I am guessing anything that wounded it had a very bad time. It also converts what it eats into raw biological energy to fuel itself. So the more it eats, the harder it is to kill. That is not even counting its berserker state.”

  “And you will be unleashing that upon my lands?” Lady Tarlaniel asked incredulously.

  “Not unleashing,” Matthias corrected. “I am simply aiming it. I fully intend for it to eventually die. It is not a monster I intend to populate my dungeon with. It was born for war.”

  “So, if your newest monster is not aimed my way, then what will you be sending south?” Xalt asked, redirecting the conversation.

  “The Primeval Hydra, as well as the entire contents of my second and fifth floors,” Matthias decided. “That should allow me to reinforce the western flank with my third floor if the Devourer falls.”

  “Then what are you deploying up north?” Maximus asked.

  “Myself,” Matthias stated confidently. “One of my avatar abilities allows me to take the form of any monster I have designed for my dungeon. I will take Peter and his druids as support.”

  “That is insane,” Maximus challenged. “How can you think of holding the bulk of the forces alone?”

  “Antoinette will be my reactionary force,” Matthias continued as if Maximus had not spoken. “Spring will be busy with a ritual. Perhaps Summer can help support the northern border along with the rest of my first floor.”

  “If the enemy’s goal is to eliminate you, you should not be on the front line,” Maximus pressed.

  “It is simply most efficient,” Matthias replied. “I am my own strongest piece. I do not think I could hold every border if I did not deploy.”

  “You do not need to fight alone,” Lady Tarlaniel tried.

  “He is not,” Xalt interjected. “I have a feeling you will be busy dealing with the armies trailing behind the monsters on the western flank. They have brazenly defied your sovereignty. Are you going to let that go unanswered?”

  Lady Tarlaniel scoffed. “They will learn what it is to trespass,” she promised haughtily.

  “In that case, there is a basic plan,” Xalt pointed out. “It can be refined as more data comes in. There are weeks yet. I am sure our favorite dungeon will have more surprises.”

  “We can also discuss my aerial units,” Matthias added. “There is a troubling number of dragons coming. I was thinking of having my fliers start on the southern front and work their way around. They will expect the northern front to be my main concern. The faster I wrap up the other fronts, the more pressure I can send north.”

  “Most of the dragons are coming from the north,” Maximus countered. “That means you would contend with them until your other forces can punch through elsewhere—and that assumes they have enough numbers left even if they win.”

  Matthias shrugged. “I can only sustain so many monsters as I am now. Sure, I could cannibalize my entire dungeon to drown the land in manticores. But what comes after that? Life must go on. That is not something I will bend on. I will teach them the difference between myself and them. They are scavengers and prey animals pretending to be predators. Now they march toward my maw, despite all the bones I have already left behind.”

  “Strong words, but they will not win you the war alone,” Maximus snorted.

  The talks went long into the night. They ate two more meals as each leader and general walked through how they would deploy the forces Matthias had available. He watched closely, absorbing what tactics he could. But deep down, Bios demanded that he enforce his narrative here. If he backed down and treated this as a war, he would never take the step he needed.

  So Matthias hardened his will.

  One day, he might need to fight a real war. He would never neglect a lesson. But this conflict was not a battle.

  It was a meal.

  And he was more than ready to gorge himself on their hubris.