Among the gathering were many nobles, yet Loughshinny had no desire to mingle with them.
There were two reasons for this: first, nobles were greedy by nature; and second, she didn't want to risk revealing her identity. If that happened, it would only bring unnecessary trouble to Brother Felix.
Fortunately, Count Bolton was keeping most of the noble circle entertained, chatting with his little entourage. Only a few of the younger nobles lingered apart from the group, their gazes turning toward Felix's party with curiosity—and more than a little scrutiny.
Loughshinny, Platinum, and Skadi—each strikingly beautiful in their own way—were enough to make several of Victoria's young aristocrats lose their composure. But with their elders nearby, none dared to act out of turn. They could only admire from afar, frustrated by their own restraint.
"What an unpleasant bunch of eyes…"
Platinum muttered under her breath, lips curling faintly. She knew she couldn't cause a scene with her boss right there, but part of her longed to draw her weapon and blind those spoiled brats on the spot—just to remind them what the Platinum Assassin of the Armorless Union was capable of.
"Just ignore them," Felix said with an amused smile. His fingers brushed against his ring, and a flicker of eerie blue flame danced at his fingertips.
A chill ran down the backs of the young noblemen. They quickly looked away, embarrassed and indignant—but it was clear they weren't foolish enough to provoke him. No one here would come out ahead from a confrontation.
Thankfully, the awkward tension evaporated as the sound of a train's whistle echoed from outside. Felix stepped toward the window, watching as a sleek steam locomotive slowed to a halt before the terminal.
Painted in bold letters along its side were the words: "Welcome to Kjerag."
A man in formal attire stepped off the train—none other than Enciodes, chairman of Karlan Trade and heir of one of Kjerag's Four Great Families.
It had been several years since their last meeting. Enciodes looked more mature now; though lean, his body carried the disciplined strength of someone accustomed to training.
As both the host and initiator of this gathering, Enciodes greeted every guest in turn, shaking hands and exchanging polite words.
When it was finally Felix's turn—saved for last—Enciodes' polite smile softened into something more natural, more genuine.
"So, is this the face you show your allies?" Felix teased lightly.
"I've never been good at smiling for show," Enciodes admitted with a quiet laugh. "At least, not when it's you standing in front of me."
He clasped Felix's hand firmly. "Welcome back to Kjerag."
"As for our upcoming cooperation…" Felix began.
"I'll come find you," Enciodes replied in a low tone, before smoothly returning to his hostly duties as though nothing had happened. He began ushering guests aboard the Kjerag Express.
---
The Kjerag Express was a luxury sightseeing train. The trip to Turicum would take about forty-five minutes, passing through several scenic landmarks along the way.
As the host, Enciodes' job was far from over once everyone boarded. He personally arranged the guests into separate compartments, using the brief journey to visit each in turn, discussing business and alliances.
It was a task only he could handle.
Felix understood well how exhausting it must be. Negotiating with a pack of greedy nobles wasn't much different from selling Kjerag itself—and yet, Enciodes had no choice but to play the part.
Inside their cabin, Felix offered the window seats to Loughshinny and Platinum, then settled in the middle and closed his eyes. He was tired; a short nap sounded perfect.
Loughshinny gently took his hand in hers, helping him relax. Skadi, meanwhile, kept her gaze fixed outside the window. The moment she saw the snow-covered landscape, she had fallen silent, wholly absorbed in the endless white.
---
This time, Felix's purpose in coming to Kjerag was to discuss the Tschäggättä Unit with Enciodes.
Back in Lungmen, Jesselton was finishing the final tuning of a simplified version of Felix's mechanical armor prototype. Once complete, it would serve as the centerpiece of a lucrative deal between the two allies.
Across all of Terra, Karlan Trade was the only major organization that could match Tomorrow's Development in influence without clashing interests.
Enciodes was an ambitious man—but his ambitions differed from Felix's. His goal was to strengthen Kjerag, to elevate its international standing and ensure it thrived among the great powers.
Felix's ambition, by contrast, was to harness the potential of the players and spread the name of Tomorrow's Development across all lands.
Their paths never intersected in conflict—only in opportunity. That was why their cooperation thus far had been smooth and mutually beneficial.
At the same time, Felix's next major project—the establishment of a full-fledged medical division—was already underway.
If everything went as planned, by the end of the year Tomorrow's Development would possess a medical and pharmaceutical system rivaling that of Rhodes Island itself.
Snow was falling. Felix opened his eyes, his gaze turning toward the window where the flakes drifted softly past, blurring the outline of the distant mountain peaks.
He thought of Nian—how she had always loved the mountains of Mountain Shu, where she could climb high and look far across the horizon. Since moving to Lungmen, she had been impressed by its advanced technology and cosmopolitan air, but the dense cityscape and flat terrain had left her uneasy. To make her more comfortable, Felix had arranged for her to live in the highest suite of the Tomorrow's Development Tower, where she could enjoy the full view of Lungmen's night sky without ever leaving her room. Nian had been pleased—and, in her satisfaction, had shared her knowledge freely.
Felix's training under her was nearly complete. The timing of this trip was just right; his progress bar was almost full. Once his journey to Ursus concluded, he would finally be able to upgrade his blacksmithing—and unlock the rare profession of forgemaster.
Partway through the ride, a train attendant knocked on the compartment door, pushing a small service cart laden with treats. Everything was locally made—delicacies unique to Kjerag. Felix paid for a few, and the group began to snack together, filling the compartment with the pleasant clink of teacups and the faint scent of sugar and butter.
For a moment, the atmosphere felt almost like something out of the Hogwarts Express.
When the train finally arrived in Turicum, they were escorted to the most luxurious hotel in the city. Enciodes accompanied them personally, managing every detail like a true host.
Felix was assigned the presidential suite—just as the other visiting nobles were. After changing into warmer clothes, he heard Platinum groan lazily from where she lay sprawled across the bed, her muffled voice mixing with a sigh as she stared out toward the snow-covered peaks.
"Are we going to visit Kjeragandr?" she asked, her tone languid.
"Since we're already here," Felix replied with a faint smile, "of course we'll pay our respects."
He coaxed Platinum off the bed, handing Skadi a thick coat as well. She still wore the Tomorrow's Development uniform he'd given her—similar to her old outfit in cut, protecting where needed and exposing where it pleased her. Skadi seemed perfectly content with it. But when it came to her greatsword, she refused to replace it with anything else.
Felix couldn't help but sweat a little at that. With his current level of craftsmanship, it would take who knew how many more upgrades before he could forge a cold weapon sharp enough to rival hers.
Meanwhile, the nobles had already begun their afternoon tea in the hotel's lounge. They sipped and chattered leisurely, praising the "rustic charm" of Kjerag. To them, this place was nothing more than an undeveloped frontier—quaint and provincial.
Felix and his companions, however, headed toward the Temple. There were fewer townspeople than last time, perhaps because it wasn't a holiday. Still, now that Kjerag had connected to the subway network, it wouldn't be long before tourists began to flood in year-round.
He met Kjera again after many years. Enciodes had changed—grown into his role—but the Priestess looked exactly the same as before, untouched by time or hardship. It was as though Kjerag's harsh winds and snow had never managed to leave a single mark on her face.
"It's been a while, Lady Kjera. You look just as young as the day we met."
Felix bowed with a faint smile.
Her eyes brightened. "It seems you've grown into a dependable man since then."
"Perhaps it's thanks to Kjeragandr's guidance," he replied sincerely—or at least, appeared to. In truth, it was likely due to Kjeragandr's so-called "luck buff." After a rather affectionate ritual with his in-game party, he'd managed to roll the blueprint he wanted most. If that wasn't divine favor, what was?
Kjera beamed, clearly pleased—as though she herself had been complimented. Her joy made Loughshinny, Platinum, and Skadi exchange puzzled looks. Wait… why does she look so proud about that?
"Please, follow me for the purification ceremony," Kjera said, bowing gracefully before leading the group into the Temple.
Felix's sharp eyes immediately caught something strange. The statue of Kjeragandr before them… looked thinner than before.
Hold on—since when did that happen?
He blinked, wondering if he was imagining it. Surely, the locals would've noticed if the statue's cheeks had been shrinking day by day. Yet here it stood, its once-round face now sleek and narrow.
Who on earth would deface a divine idol like that? How disrespectful could someone be?
"Felix, let's keep moving," Kjera urged, her tone oddly uneasy.
"Uh… are you sure there's nothing wrong with the statue?" he asked, glancing at her.
"What do you mean?" she said, tilting her head in confusion. "It looks perfectly normal to me."
"You didn't notice… that Kjeragandr's face seems a bit thinner?"
"I've always remembered Kjeragandr looking like this."
"…?"
Felix scratched his head, suddenly doubting his own memory. Was someone tampering with his recollection? No—he was sure the true, original Kjeragandr had fuller features. This slender version felt like some cheap knockoff.
Sensing the curious gazes of Loughshinny and the others, he decided not to press the matter further and followed Kjera deeper into the Temple.
After the purification ceremony, Kjera led Loughshinny, Platinum, and Skadi—their first time in Kjerag—through the Temple, patiently explaining the region's history and the legend of Kjeragandr. Felix and Degenbrecher, having already heard the tale before, quietly slipped away.
He stepped into the courtyard, the cold mountain wind brushing against his face. There, on a nearby bench, he noticed someone else—a girl sitting alone, staring into the distance. She looked slightly older than Loughshinny, perhaps a middle or high school student.
Then he realized he had seen her before—at the air terminal. She was the daughter of Duke Windermere. He remembered vividly how Baron Bolton had practically tripped over himself to flatter the duke during their introduction.
At her side hung a curious weapon—a staff shaped like a cane. Felix recognized it as a standard-issue ceremonial wand, a fashionable item among noble Caster. Clearly, this silver-haired, golden-eyed feline girl was a Caster of some degree, though he couldn't tell her exact rank.
The moment she noticed Felix's gaze, the girl tensed, her body curling slightly inward. Still, those wary golden eyes never left him, gleaming like a cat's in the snow—watchful, ready to bolt if he made a wrong move.
"So cautious, are we? The daughter of Duke Windermere," Felix said with a soft chuckle as he approached.
He took a seat beside her—close enough to speak easily, but far enough to respect her space. Even so, he noticed her tail fluff up like a startled kitten.
"Are you…," she began hesitantly, her ears twitching as she studied his face. Then realization dawned. "Ah—you must be Lord Lanshem, the one Father mentioned?"
"Just call me Felix," he said with an easy smile. "Though now I'm curious—how exactly did your father describe me?"
"He said that for someone so young, you've managed to move among nobles and aristocrats with remarkable skill… and that it's both impressive and terrifying," the cat-eared girl replied. Her legs swung lightly as she added, "I think he's right. Some nobles can be so unpleasant. When they try to talk to me, I only want to leave—not stand there pretending to smile."
Felix's expression softened. "You don't seem like an ordinary student," he observed. "The way you sit, the posture—it reminds me of a friend who graduated from the Victoria Military Academy."
"Ah—pardon me." She straightened up slightly, clearing her throat with a composed tone. "I am Delphine Windermere, daughter of Duke Windermere. I'm currently enrolled at the Windermere Military Academy."
"I thought as much," Felix said. "You carry yourself with the poise of a soldier."
Pleased by the compliment, Delphine puffed out her chest—enough to make even Exusiai envious for a moment—and smiled with quiet pride.
"I've always admired the soldiers of Victoria," Felix continued conversationally, though his tone carried sincerity. "Their tactics, their discipline, even the sense of duty they bear as nobles in uniform—it's all something I aspire to. Their gear, their precision… that's the image I want to emulate."
"Then Lord Felix… do you intend to train a private army?" she asked curiously.
"In a way," he replied with a faint grin. "But tell me—don't all nobles keep private forces of their own?"
He leaned back slightly. "The great and small houses of Victoria each command troops tied to their domains. The people simply call them territorial armies."
Delphine nodded in understanding.
"I run a rather large business," Felix added, smiling with a hint of mischief. "Naturally, that means I need… protection. You understand?"
"Of course," she replied politely. Even minor merchants in Victoria often employed grey-market bodyguards. It was no surprise that someone of Felix's standing would do the same—just on a larger scale.
"Tell me, Miss Delphine," he asked after a pause, "what are your plans for the future?"
"My current goal is to join my mother's regiment," she answered proudly.
"I see. Then I wish you success."
Rising from his seat, Felix took her hand with practiced grace and pressed a courteous kiss upon the back of it—a noble's greeting rendered flawlessly. "Please convey my respects to your father."
"I will, Lord Felix," Delphine said, returning the gesture with poise.
He regarded her silvery hair for a quiet moment, then smiled faintly. "Perhaps, someday, there may be an opportunity for cooperation between me and Duke Windermere. Please deliver that message to the Duke—privately."
"…Understood," she replied softly.
Delphine watched the Sankta man walk away, his steps sure and unhurried. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful.
Her father had once mentioned that some merchants harbored an unusual fascination with soldiers—an obsession, almost. They liked to surround themselves with ex-servicemen as guards, as though collecting fragments of discipline and valor for themselves.
Could it be… that Lord Felix was one of those people as well?
A collector of soldiers?