"This doesn't feel right," I mutter, staring at my reflection in the polished metal mirror. The outfit that the Confederation tailor rushed to complete feels stiff and formal in a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable. Rich burgundy fabric with gold trim, a high collar that feels like it's choking me, and more decorative elements than I've worn in my entire previous life combined.

  "The formal attire is appropriate for a diplomatic function of this significance," Morrigan says from the doorway of my house. "A royal court has certain expectations regarding presentation."

  "I look ridiculous," I argue, tugging at the collar. "Like I'm playing dress-up as some kind of fancy lord."

  "You are a lord," she reminds me with the faintest hint of amusement in her voice. "The Monster Lord, to be precise."

  "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I need to dress like... this." I gesture at the ornate outfit with distaste. The Confederation merchants had been almost offensively enthusiastic about designing "appropriate attire" for my visit to Dawnhaven, practically falling over themselves to outfit me in what they considered suitable finery.

  Nerk appears beside Morrigan, his evolved form somehow looking more natural in the formal armor that's been crafted for him than I do in my fancy clothes.

  "Departure preparations complete," he reports. "Honor guard assembled. Flight formation established. Weather conditions optimal."

  "Great," I sigh, giving up on the collar and accepting my fate. "Let's get this over with."

  Outside, our departure party has gathered on the central platform. Gorthal stands at the head of twenty of his finest blood warriors, their metallic skin gleaming in the morning light. Their armor, unlike mine, has been designed with both function and formality in mind, the dark metal plates adorned with blood-red crystals that pulse faintly with stored energy.

  "Looking good, boss," Elara calls out with a grin as I emerge. She's been documenting everything about our territory with impressive dedication, and apparently my discomfort with formal wear is worth noting in her journal.

  "Don't start," I warn her, though there's no real heat in my tone. In the weeks she's been here, I've grown to appreciate her straightforward manner and genuine curiosity. Unlike most humans who interact with us, she treats our differences as fascinating rather than frightening.

  "The ceremonial attire serves an important diplomatic function," she says, scribbling something in her ever-present notebook. "It signals respect for their customs while simultaneously establishing your own status."

  "I'd establish my status just fine in regular clothes," I grumble.

  Morkath approaches, his transformed form towering over everyone else on the platform. Root systems briefly connect with the wood beneath our feet as he speaks.

  "Territory will be maintained in your absence," he assures me. "Rootways extended to southeastern wetlands. Can monitor regional activities. Will send warning if threats emerge."

  "Thanks, Morkath," I reply, genuinely grateful. Having him stay behind makes me feel better about leaving our territory, even if it's just for a few days. "Keep an eye on those new goblin arrivals too. Nerk's system needs all the recruits we can get."

  A shadow passes overhead, and we all look up to see Crystallis circling above the platform. Since her recent evolution following her pack's integration, she's grown even larger, her wingspan now approaching eighty feet from tip to tip. The crystal formations along her spine have developed into more sophisticated structures that catch the sunlight and break it into prismatic patterns across the platform.

  Behind her fly a dozen crystal wyverns, their smaller forms echoing her movements with perfect synchronization. They've been specially trained for this mission, taught to carry passengers by their matriarch.

  Crystallis descends with surprising grace for a creature of her size, touching down at the edge of the platform with barely a tremor. Her crystalline eyes fix on me, a harmonic tone emerging from her throat that translates through our bond as amused approval of my formal attire.

  "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," I mutter, approaching her. "At least you don't have to wear a collar."

  The moment of truth arrives as I stand beside her, suddenly realizing a problem I hadn't considered during our preparations. Since her latest evolution, Crystallis stands significantly taller at the shoulder than before. What was once a manageable climb now looks like scaling a small mountain.

  "Uh..." I hesitate, looking up at the saddle strapped to her back, specifically designed for this journey. It might as well be on top of a two-story building.

  Elara bursts out laughing, not even trying to hide her amusement. "Did no one think to bring a ladder?" she calls out.

  I shoot her a glare, then look around for something to use as a step. "Maybe if I just..."

  I make a somewhat undignified jump, trying to grab the edge of the saddle, and miss completely. My fancy outfit doesn't help, restricting my movement at precisely the wrong moment. I land back on the platform with an embarrassing thud.

  Crystallis makes that harmonic sound again, and this time there's no mistaking the amusement in it. She watches me for a moment, head tilted, then slowly extends one massive foreleg, positioning her paw flat against the platform beside me.

  "Oh," I say, suddenly understanding. "Thanks."

  I step onto her offered paw, and she gently lifts me upward with smooth precision, raising me perfectly to saddle height. I slide into place, securing myself with the specially designed straps, and try to pretend this was all part of the plan.

  "Very dignified, Monster Lord," Elara calls up, still grinning. "I'll be sure to include this in my scholarly documentation."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "Make sure you get my good side," I reply dryly.

  Below, Nerk and Gorthal organizes his blood warriors to mount the waiting wyverns. Unlike me, they've practiced this maneuver extensively, each warrior climbing onto their assigned mount with fluid efficiency. Though the wyverns clearly don't enjoy carrying passengers, they've accepted their role in this mission with reluctant compliance.

  Gorthal’s wyvern seems barely large enough to support his evolved form. I had wanted to have him ride Crystallis with me, but I still remember the last time he tried that. And the workers are still repairing the destroyed buildings from Crystallis’ tantrum.

  Morrigan approaches Crystallis. For a moment I think she wants to try her luck too, but she leaps upward, magical energy briefly shimmering around her as she floats lightly to my side.

  "Show-off," I mutter.

  "Efficiency," she corrects with the faintest hint of satisfaction.

  "All preparations complete," he calls up to me. "Ready for departure on your command."

  I take a deep breath, looking down at our assembled forces. This is the first time I've left our territory for more than a battle since becoming the Monster Lord. Somehow, a diplomatic visit feels more daunting than fighting Death Knights.

  "Morkath," I call down. "You're in charge until we return. Try not to let the place fall apart."

  The Rootmind inclines his crown of branches in acknowledgment, pollen spores briefly illuminating the air around him. "Safe journey, Monster Lord. Will maintain connection through rootways. Contact possible if emergency arises."

  I nod, then straighten in the saddle, trying to look like someone who belongs on the back of a crystal dragon. "Alright, let's go meet this king."

  Crystallis launches herself upward with powerful thrust, her massive wings creating downdrafts that bend the swamp vegetation below. The sensation of acceleration presses me back against the saddle, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I question all my life choices that led to this point.

  Then we're airborne, soaring above the treetops, our swamp territory spreading out below us in all its marshy glory. The wyverns follow in tight formation, their smaller forms arranged in a protective pattern around Crystallis. From this height, I can truly appreciate how much our domain has grown, stretching far beyond the small area where I first bonded with Nerk.

  "It looks smaller from up here," I observe as we gain altitude.

  "Perspective changes perception," Morrigan replies, her voice carrying easily despite the wind. "Though in truth, our territory has expanded significantly since your arrival."

  "Yeah," I agree, a trace of wonder in my voice. "Hard to believe it all started with just me and one goblin."

  "Evolution accelerates exponentially," she murmurs.

  As we leave our swamp territory behind, the landscape below transforms. Marshlands give way to rolling hills, then cultivated farmland marked by the geometric patterns of human agriculture. Small villages appear, tiny collections of buildings clustered around crossroads or river bends.

  Occasionally, we pass over travelers on the roads below, their reactions impossible to miss even from this height. Carts abandoned mid-journey as their drivers flee into nearby fields. Mounted messengers spurring their horses to impossible speeds. Once, an entire caravan forming a defensive circle before realizing we're just passing overhead.

  "We're causing quite a stir," I note as we watch a farmer abandon his plow to rush into his cottage.

  "The sight of a crystal drake and wyvern formation is unexpected in these territories," Nerk observes from his nearby mount. "Information will spread rapidly. Dawnhaven capital likely to have advance warning of our approach."

  "That's probably for the best," I reply. "I'd rather not give the royal guard a heart attack by appearing unannounced."

  The journey continues through the morning and into early afternoon. The landscape below grows increasingly settled, villages appearing more frequently, connected by better-maintained roads. Signs of Dawnhaven's prosperity become evident in well-tended fields and the occasional manor house surrounded by extensive grounds.

  Flying actually proves to be a surprisingly pleasant way to travel. No muddy roads, no uncomfortable carriages, no overnight stops at questionable inns. We make in hours what would have taken days by conventional means.

  "I could get used to this," I admit as we soar over a particularly picturesque river valley. "Way better than slogging through mud."

  "Aerial travel offers significant tactical advantages," Nerk agrees from his wyvern. "Bypasses terrain obstacles. Provides superior reconnaissance opportunities. Demonstrates power projection capabilities."

  "I meant it's pretty up here," I clarify with a smile. "But sure, that too."

  As the afternoon progresses, Crystallis banks slightly to the east, following a major river that, according to our maps, leads directly to Dawnhaven's capital city. The countryside below has become decidedly more developed, with larger settlements and increased traffic on the roads. Everywhere we pass, people stop and point upward, our formation impossible to miss against the clear sky.

  "We're being tracked," Gorthal calls from his wyvern, metallic skin patterns pulsing slightly faster. "Mounted observers following our course. Likely royal scouts."

  "Expected," Morrigan replies calmly. "They would be negligent to allow an aerial formation to approach their capital unmonitored."

  I squint downward and can just make out the tiny figures of riders galloping along roads roughly parallel to our flight path. "As long as they don't get trigger-happy with any ballistas or something, we're good."

  The river widens as we follow it, trading speed for depth until it becomes a major waterway dotted with boats and barges. And then, appearing on the horizon, I catch my first glimpse of our destination.

  Dawnhaven's capital rises from the surrounding plains like something from a fantasy painting. Stone walls encircle the outer city, while an inner ring of more formidable fortifications protects the central districts. Above it all, built on a natural rise at the city's heart, stands the royal palace, its white towers catching the late afternoon sun.

  "Wow," I breathe, momentarily forgetting my discomfort and the strange circumstances that brought me here. "That's actually pretty impressive."

  "A city of approximately fifty thousand inhabitants," Nerk analyses. "Defensive architecture suggests centuries of development. Multiple rings of fortification. River access for trade and supply. Economically significant regional hub."

  "It's pretty," I translate, shaking my head at his tactical assessment.

  As we draw closer, more details become visible. The city sprawls well beyond its original walls, newer districts extending outward in rough concentric patterns. The river divides around a large island at the city's edge, creating a natural harbor filled with vessels of various sizes. The palace complex is larger than I initially thought, comprising multiple buildings and extensive gardens.

  "They've spotted us," Morrigan observes, pointing toward the city walls where tiny figures can be seen rushing about. "The reception committee is likely being hastily assembled."

  I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling the weight of this diplomatic mission. In less than an hour, I'll be face to face with King Arlen of Dawnhaven, representing not just myself but our entire territory and all the monsters who call it home.

  "Let's hope they've laid out the good silverware," I joke nervously, adjusting my uncomfortably fancy collar one last time as Crystallis begins her descent toward the royal city.

  Whatever the king's true motives, whatever political games might be afoot, I'm the Monster Lord now. I've faced Death Knights, defeated a hydra, and unified monsters that have been enemies for generations. I can handle a royal banquet.

  Probably.