The ceremonial marches have thundered, the wedding feast has quieted down. Over the first night of the crowned lovers, a blood-red bloom has begun to show. Not only the star is rising over the surroundings of Velorderan, but the tokerets, of course, upon learning of the celebration, send their deadly gift as well. A great battle is coming—one in which precise, cunning calculation will collide with the art of the Ancient Wind. But does any great magic mean anything against harsh science?… Or will it all be decided by the art of tricky political diplomacy, mastered to perfection by Svarog, king of kings?…
That very major of the Airborne Forces, Stanislav Sergeevich Svarog—a knight from nowhere.
Although excessive diplomacy sometimes only makes things worse. For example, when someone’s dirty hands tear apart lace underwear on your beloved woman.