— The meeting definitely didn't go as I had imagined. In fact, there was no way I could've predicted something like that would happen. Everything felt more complicated than necessary. I knew my power was problematic and that every decision Malaca made was meant to benefit me, but this felt excessive.
— Wait… you're really going to sleep with me? I mean, in the same room?
The woman standing in front of me was easily twenty centimeters taller than me, which wouldn't be much of a problem if it weren't for those two monuments pressed directly against my face. It was almost as if she were doing it on purpose.
— Demetria, could you step back a little? Your… your boobs are pressing against my face — I asked awkwardly, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
— Hmmmm... — Demetria smirked playfully, leaning even closer, her gaze full of amusement. — Look who's all red! So, you've got a thing for Animales, huh, kid?
Animales. That's what her race was called. For me, it was hard to understand how such different, varied creatures could all be grouped under the same label. Demetria was tall, muscular, and clearly human in essence, but the equine features—her mare-like ears and the thick, flowing mane that fell down her back—were far too prominent to ignore. In the end, she was exactly what her mix suggested: literally a Mare.
— You're way too skinny for me, Fly — she teased, giving my shoulder a playful slap. — I like meat… lots of meat. Besides, my mission is simply to protect you, and it's kind of hard to do that from anywhere but inside your room. And don't worry, this might not be a stable, but I have to admit, it's pretty spacious. I always thought Malaca spoiled her elite, but I didn't know it was to this extent. Damn Bearnuld and his penny-pinching.
Yes, Demetria was my assigned protector. And I still had a hard time accepting that fact. She seemed far more concerned with teasing me and dressing like she was ready for an adults-only performance than actually guarding me. But at the end of the day, she was still an Omega, which meant that, despite all her extravagance, she had more than enough power to keep me safe.
— Demetria, our mission is to protect him, not to flirt with the boy — said a calm and firm voice from the corner of the room. — And with my enhanced hearing, I can hear everything going on in here, even from the next room.
Suddenly, Demetria clung to me again, pressing her generously curvy body against mine, her breasts squishing against my cheeks.
— Ah, Lunara, how can you be so heartless? He needs me, doesn't he, baby? — she whispered in my ear, in a tone that always carried dangerously ambiguous connotations.
— I agree with Lunara! You two can totally stay in the next room and protect me from there! — I exclaimed, trying uselessly to free myself from that suffocating embrace.
Lunara was the exact opposite of Demetria. Small, delicate, and seemingly fragile, her deep eyes carried an ancient wisdom. Like Demetria, Lunara was an Omega—this one from the Hare guild, led by Florenci. Despite her sweet and youthful appearance, she was old enough to be my great-great-grandmother—something I still struggled to process. Her distinctly rabbit-like features and sharp eyes reflected an experience far beyond anything I could imagine. Ironic how someone so old and powerful could appear so young and gentle.
It was clear that nothing in this world was quite what I had imagined.
— You're so mean…
Demetria looked genuinely upset, making a dramatic face like she was about to cry before storming out of the room, closing the door with a soft thud. Before I could even try to fix the misunderstanding, Lunara spoke again, her voice calm and soothing:
— Don't worry, Fly. Demetria's always like that. Honestly, I think someone hit her in the head with something heavy when she was a child. By tomorrow, she won't even remember this. I apologize for the inconvenience, and if you need anything, we'll be right next door.
— Thank you, Lunara.
Finally, after nearly a week since that chaotic meeting, things were starting to return to normal. Luckily, no incidents had occurred during those days—but unfortunately, that also meant I'd had to remain confined to the guild the whole time. I understood Malaca's concern, but still, being locked in wasn't exactly pleasant.
During that period, I took the opportunity to do something I had never really done before: study. Not about this world itself, but about myself. After all, what exactly did it mean to be a Bard? What were my real capabilities? Malaca had countless questions about my abilities, especially after the confrontation with Varnak. I discovered that, in this world, it wasn't common for a buff or debuff to be selective about its targets. Yet somehow, I could control that. So many questions, and so few answers.
— I guess today's the day, huh? — I murmured to myself, feeling a strange anxiety in my chest.
Today was a special day, different from all the other monotonous ones. It was finally time for a new assessment of my abilities. Assessments in this world were incredibly costly and complex, demanding a lot from the evaluator. Unfortunately for me, Zomeia had been sent in a hurry to a satellite city called Minus, replacing an evaluator who had fallen ill.
Minus was peculiar: too big to be ignored, too small to be important, yet it held a Class B dungeon and one of the few Platinum guilds in the region. As a satellite city, it exercised strict authority over smaller cities like Strugar. And unfortunately, Malaca had to let go of Zomeia temporarily.
— Maybe she'll be back before dinner… maybe I can get something for her? — I thought aloud.
I left my room and headed to Malaca's office.
— Good afternoon, Malaca. Want to grab something to eat?
— Hey… Go ahead, I need to finish some calculations here. I'll be there soon — she replied with a tired smile, clearly stressed.
The fatigue on her face didn't go unnoticed—and it made sense: a large part of the guild's income came from the evaluations Zomeia conducted, and without her, the finances were surely strained. Also, despite its own charm, Rhino wasn't exactly known for its cuisine, which made earning money even harder.
— Alright then… I heard Zomeia's coming back today, right?
For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of hope in Malaca's eyes, but it vanished just as quickly.
— Yes… But she'll have to work double for the next few weeks.
Sensing the heaviness in the air, I quickly made my way toward the bar.
— Hey, Fly — said Bromeia when she saw me walk in.
— Hey… The usual, please.
It was hard to talk to Bromeia after everything that had happened lately. Our communication had been reduced to short, trivial greetings. It felt like we were trapped in an endless cycle of unresolved, uncomfortable tension—something I had no intention of fixing anytime soon.
Did we just sleep together...? Ahhh, forget it… I thought, shaking my head to push away the thought.
— Fly, get over here! — Zion's voice echoed across the hall.
I wanted to ignore him and run. Dealing with Demetria or Lunara was already complicated enough, but with Zion, everything felt worse. Resigned, I approached his table slowly.
— Hummm… I'm coming.
Zion was… complicated. The youngest son of Leonan, he'd inherited his father's strength and style—but not his sense or patience. I clearly remembered how many times I'd heard Malaca arguing with Leonan about Zion. What did she call him again? "Battle-crazed pervert"? Something like that. Zion was reckless, hot-headed, and seemed ready to fight for the most ridiculous reasons. No wonder every table around him was completely empty, with people avoiding even looking in his direction.
— Where are the girls? They're not coming? — Zion asked casually.
— I think they're skipping this meal.
— What a shame… Man, I really wanted a rematch with that huge woman. Did you know I finally developed a new move?
— Humm... like the one from last week?
— No, no… Last week was a new strike. This is a whole new move! I called it "Steps of the Shadow Night Feline." Want to see it?
— Maybe later, Zion… way later.
Zion was completely insane and, judging by his behavior, maybe even a little masochistic. Since I met him, he'd been constantly challenging Demetria over and over, only to end up losing in the most absurdly humiliating ways—almost always with his face buried in her breasts or butt. I was starting to suspect he might have a deeper motive behind those "battles."
— Ah, such a shame… I was sure this was the move that would finally defeat that hott… I mean, that crazy woman! — he corrected himself quickly, looking away, clearly embarrassed.
My days at the Rhino Guild weren't particularly difficult or dangerous, but there was a tense atmosphere all over the city. After all, Malaca hadn't kept the incident with the Adepts a secret. As absurd and unlikely as it seemed, everyone chose to believe it. Better to live on alert, aware that the enemy could be lurking nearby, than to be caught unprepared.
— By the way, Zomeia's coming back today. We'll finally be able to check our updated status — I mentioned, trying to change the subject to something that might interest both of us.
— What?! Finally! I couldn't wait any longer... The way things were going, I thought I'd have to pay a fortune just to see my own stats again — exclaimed Zion, clearly excited.
That had been one of the concessions Malaca was forced to make. Offering free status evaluations for my protectors wasn't cheap. For warriors as experienced and powerful as they were, the analysis required double the effort, which significantly raised the costs. Even so, Malaca had generously agreed to it as a gesture of goodwill and to show appreciation for the support of the other guilds.
— I believe this assessment will be key in the fight against the White Knight — Zion said, suddenly adopting a more serious tone.
It made sense that he was concerned. The date of the confrontation was approaching fast, and the atmosphere grew heavier with every passing day. The meeting where Bearnuld revealed he knew how to summon the White Knight had caught everyone by surprise. Even more shocking was the level of detail in his explanation.
Bearnuld's theory was simple but effective: according to him, the White Knight wasn't a man—but a woman. To summon her, it would be necessary to form a group composed mostly of women. At first, I thought the theory was far-fetched, but Bearnuld presented his findings with conviction. He laid out a chart showing all previous encounters with the White Knight, analyzing each detail and pattern carefully. It became clear that groups made up mostly of women were the ones unlucky enough to trigger the entity's appearance.
The belief that the White Knight was female came from a painting found on the castle's first floor. The image, which many assumed depicted a princess in a long white gown, was reinterpreted by Bearnuld as something entirely different. According to him, the figure wasn't wearing a dress, but a powerful suit of white Aura armor. I didn't fully understand what "Aura armor" meant, but judging by everyone's reaction, the idea made a lot of sense.
However, discovering how to summon the White Knight wouldn't make the mission any easier. The more I studied the subject, the more Bearnuld's lack of surprise at hearing we'd defeated the White Knight made sense. The fortress that entity guarded was practically impenetrable while she was alive, and it granted an extremely powerful buff based on the number of enemies present.
When the Black Knight was defeated for the first time, there was a specific jar that, if destroyed, disabled his special buff. However, the jar was so resilient that most thought it easier to just fight the Black Knight head-on. That strategy wouldn't work against the White Knight. If she had a similar buff tied to an object, it would need to be destroyed first—before anything else. There was no room for error.