Tina's three knocks were precise. Beside her, Lilia held a morning tea tray, beaming.
"I wonder if Lady Reise is awake," Lilia whispered.
"She is. Unless she's drunk," Tina stated, turning the knob.
The room was bathed in soft dawn light. G6 was asleep—a rarity. She lay on her front, avoiding pressure on her back. The satin black nightgown, a gift from Brenda, made her pale skin look like porcelain against the dark sheets.
"She's still asleep," Lilia murmured, surprised.
Tina's first thought: she's drunk. But as she approached, her mistress's bare face came into view. Flawless, yet… wrong. A faint purple bruise shadowed the corner of her mouth.
Tina's eyes widened. It looks like she's been in a fight. "Lady Reise!" she called, sharp enough to startle Lilia beside her.
G6 reacted instantly, not by waking, but by raising a hand from under the covers to swat vaguely at the air near her ear. The movement exposed her forearm: a network of fine, red scratches and reddish bruises.
Lilia gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "Tina… her arm…"
Tina's composure cracked. This was far worse. She leaned closer, voice an urgent whisper. "Lady Reise? My lady, can you hear me? What happened?"
She gently pulled the nightgown sleeve back an inch, revealing more mottled skin. The evidence was undeniable. Their mistress hadn't been drinking; she'd been through an ordeal.
"Should we call a physician?" Lilia trembled.
"Not yet." Tina's mind raced, remembering the fur coat and gloves from last night. A concealment tactic. "First, we wake her. Then, we find out what 'training' leaves you looking like you lost a fight with a carriage."
Lilia, overwhelmed, gently shook her lady's shoulder. "Lady Reise, please wake up…"
A groan from the pillows. "What time is it?"
"A quarter to seven," Tina answered, worry seeping into her tone.
G6 turned over slowly, a sharp hiss escaping her lips. "Ugh…"
Tina's suspicion hardened into certainty. This was no ordinary stiffness.
G6 opened her eyes to find both maids staring, their anxiety palpable.
What? It's so early for the— ugh, shit. My bruises.
An internal assessment brought a flicker of relief. Alistair's tonic is effective. Doesn't hurt as much as it should. Tch. Tastes worse, though.
"What exactly are you and Edmund doing at the Utility Magic Department?" Tina asked, her voice deceptively calm. The stillness before a storm.
G6 pushed herself up, buying a second. "I missed training. After my tasks, I had Edmund spar with me in a vacant room." A smooth lie, scratching her head with feigned nonchalance.
"And you pushed too hard?" Tina pressed, eyes searching for a crack.
"I told him not to hold back," G6 shot back, a defensive edge in her voice. Truth, twisted.
"And he didn't?" Tina's face shifted from worry to quiet, simmering anger. That stupid old bachelor. How dare he?
"Draw me a warm bath. No petals. We'll be late for the witch's summons," G6 said, shrugging off the conversation as she swung her legs over the bed.
"Understood." Tina's voice was tight. She conceded, believing the lie for now, but the image of the bruises was burned into her mind. She marched into the bathroom, movements sharp with repressed frustration.
"Here, Lady Reise. It's still warm," Lilia offered a teacup, her hand trembling.
"Water first."
Lilia hurried to the tea table. When she turned, G6 was already walking toward it, her gait careful, measured. Pain betrayed.
"I'll wear my coat and gloves again today," G6 announced, lowering herself into a chair.
"Lady Reise," Lilia said, smiling weakly as she offered the water.
From the bathroom doorway, Tina's voice carried, crisp and clear. "Your garments are clean and dried." A pause, then pointed emphasis. "Though a dress with a higher neckline and longer sleeves might be more… appropriate. The bruises on your arms are noticeable."
G6 froze for a fraction of a second, then took a long sip. A warning, not a suggestion. "That's the purpose of the coat, smarty." No way I'm wearing those damn pastels.
"Lady Reise, you promised you'd take care of yourself," Lilia whispered, her lip quivering.
G6 finished her water, picked up the teacup. "Lilia," she started, tone softer but steel-cored. "Pain is part of growth. You'll never understand the consequences without it." A simple, brutal fact.
Lilia, a child, only understood her lady was hurt and didn't care. Her face fell.
Tina, listening from the doorway, felt a cold knot form. She looked at her mistress—the flawless face, the battered body, the detached explanation—and felt a profound shift. This wasn't the same Reise. That Reise would have felt the injury. This woman accepted it as a necessary calculation. Terrifying.
"The bath is ready," Tina said, her voice hollow. "Take it now. We'll prepare your dress and a light breakfast. Lady Brenda sent word; everyone understands you cannot eat together. You're all in a hurry."
G6 put down the empty teacup with a definitive click and stood. As she passed Tina, the maid didn't just see bruises; she felt the chilling aura of secrets and violence clinging to her. An intangible distance. A gulf.
Once the bathroom door closed, Tina released a weary sigh. She looked at Lilia's distraught face. "Come. Let's fetch her garments. And… we'll ask Janin for ointments."
As they left, Tina couldn't shake the feeling: the ordered world of the West Villa was crumbling, and the epicenter was her increasingly enigmatic mistress.
-ˋˏ✄ - - - - - - - ♡
G6 emerged from the steam to find her room empty, the bed neatly fixed.
"Haven't come back yet?" she muttered, walking to the full-length mirror, towel-drying her hair roughly. The silence felt heavy.
"Let's see how good Alistair's cooking and herbal magic really is," she said aloud, with no regard for the open balcony or windows. Privacy was a concept she often treated with disdain.
She loosened her robe, letting it fall to her waist, and turned her back to the mirror. The vivid purple and blue blooms had faded to a yellowish-green. Swelling down.
Tch. Edmund wasn't lying about the geezer being S-Rank. My bruises look days old. A satisfying smirk. A payoff for the bitter tonic.
A firm knock. In one fluid motion, she pulled her robe up and secured it. "Come in." She settled at the vanity.
Edmund entered, offering a formal bow. He looked tired, shadows under his eyes. "Good morning, Lady Reise."
"Ah. Right. Tina might try to kill you," G6 stated casually, not turning from her reflection as she combed her hair.
"Pardon?"
"She saw the bruises. I told her we sparred and you didn't hold back."
Edmund sighed, profound weariness. Tina's wrath seemed trivial. "I stayed late at the Collegium Library. I'm certain. The script on that paper is a language of the Charnel Lands."
G6's comb stilled. She met his eyes in the mirror. "Decipher it?"
"No. The texts are theoretical. No functional translator." He hesitated. "And the materials are restricted. I couldn't bring the Cryomancy book, either."
G6 filed the setback away. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." She shifted gears. "How much does Alistair know?"
A flicker of admiration crossed his face. "He knows nothing of the specifics. He merely suspects your activities extend beyond household charms. That you're pursuing… vigorous practical magic."
"Alistair is your cousin. A Saiden. Janin was an adventurer." G6 watched his reaction closely.
Edmund's eyes widened. "Yes. But… where did you get that?"
G6's smirk returned, cold and knowing. "Just know you can't hide anything from me." Of course I sweet-talked Janin. Information extraction isn't hard.
Before Edmund could respond, a chill ran down his spine. Not from G6. He felt eyes burning into his back.
"Put that down. All of you, wait downstairs," G6 ordered, having seen Tina and Lilia return in the mirror.
Tina entered, her face a polite mask over a storm. She laid out G6's gown, coat, and gloves. Then she turned her full attention to Edmund.
"Edmund…" A low, dangerous calm.
"We'll talk on our way down." The unusual sharpness made Edmund flinch, a guilty man heading for the gallows.
"Lady Reise, it's just a sandwich. Alistair said bread is best for a rushed breakfast," Lilia chirped, expertly breaking the tension. She placed a plate on the table, then pulled a small ointment jar from her pocket. "Apply this! Then we'll wait downstairs!" Her smile was bright, worry lingering in her eyes.
G6 didn't answer with words, just gave Lilia a long, unreadable stare. Their dynamic: G6 rarely offered smiles. A lack of complaint was her highest praise.
"Prince Dio and the others are already waiting," Tina said, voice returning to its professional clip. The three bowed and filed out.
The door clicked shut. Quiet.
G6 picked up the ointment jar, turning it over. The domestic interlude was over. Time to face the witch and the tightening web of secrets. The game was waiting.
❈.❈.❈
The West Villa's grand staircase was a stage for preening peacocks. As G6 descended, heels cracking like ice on marble, the vanity below came into focus.
Prince Dio, sculpted royalty, stood near the entrance. Earl, sharp and calculating, beside him. They spoke in low, urgent tones—their seriousness almost comical to G6.
Keith leaned against a wall, radiating boredom despite the early hour. His teal-blue hair and eyes were obnoxiously vibrant.
Brenda sat with impeccable posture. Eliza perched on a chair edge, hands clasped white-knuckled, her gaze drifting toward Prince Dio with pathetic devotion.
Look at these arrogant faces. G6's internal monologue was a scalpel.
Her presence registered. The scene shifted.
Prince Dio's head snapped up, conversation forgotten. The morning light on her black fur and severe dress seemed to hypnotize him anew.
"My Reise!" Keith's boredom vanished, replaced by puppy-like excitement.
"Good morning, Lady Reise," Brenda greeted cheerfully, rising, her analytical eyes cataloging the new outfit.
All eyes were on her, a physical weight. She used it, letting the silence stretch as she reached the foyer's center—a dark star.
"You're as stunning as always," Brenda added, genuine admiration.
G6 allowed a faint, calculated smile. Reserved solely for Brenda, her primary supplier of Sanctum and Omnia's inventions. A smile for a useful tool.
"Good morning, Lady Reise," Eliza murmured, standing timidly.
G6 responded with a curt, dismissive nod. A non-entity.
"It's late. Aren't we leaving?" G6's tone implied the delay was a personal insult.
"Right, Reise. We have little time before the meeting," Earl interjected, adjusting his glasses. "You may bring only one servant. The teleportation tool has a limited capacity per activation."
"What? It can't carry more? Why invent a useless thing?" G6 snapped. Inefficiency was a cardinal sin.
"Fifteen-minute cooldown. Ten people max," Earl explained. "Zen and my elder brother are already at the Collegium."
Tch. Pain.
"Only Collegium staff can activate the circle," Brenda added, smile placating. "We'd be late if someone waited for the next interval."
"Then I'll bring Edmund," G6 declared without hesitation.
"Why not bring me this time?" Tina's voice cut through, sharp with uncharacteristic boldness. She'd entered with Lilia and Edmund. "Edmund is always with you."
"That's right," Prince Dio added, jealousy souring his tone. "He does seem constantly in your company."
"Godness! Someone's jealous," Keith whispered, loud enough for all. Prince Dio silently stomped on his foot.
"OUCH!"
G6's gaze swept over Tina's worried anger and Prince Dio's petulance. "Tina, I understand. But you stay with Lilia. Edmund comes." Her tone brooked no argument. He was her strategist; a bath attendant was useless.
Tina sighed in defeat, but her eyes burned into Edmund. "Edmund. Remember what I said." A palpable threat.
"I understand. It won't happen again," Edmund replied, pale but firm. He turned to Prince Dio, bowing slightly. "Your Highness, please do not think hostilely. I am merely the nearest, most capable aid."
"Don't mind that opportunist, Edmund," G6 said dismissively, already turning toward the rear exit.
Opportunist? Prince Dio thought, oblivious to the landmine. His confusion was satisfying.
She paused after a few steps, not looking back. "Tina, Lilia. Take the carriage if you want to tag along." Not an invitation. A concession. A bone thrown. "Hurry."
Relief washed over the maids. They exchanged a small, happy smile. They would be there—a familiar presence to temper their lady's impulses.
G6 led the way, the party trailing behind—nobles orbiting a woman they could neither understand nor resist. An unspeakable aura of power and magnetism clung to her, a gravity. All except Eliza, whose gaze remained fixed on the prince, drowning in a commoner's spell.
The walk was a study in noble dynamics. G6's question to Brenda hung in the air.
"Why no personal aide?" G6 asked, genuinely curious. Operational support was non-negotiable.
"I'm capable. Janin takes care of me at the Villa. No need for a shadow," Brenda replied, confident.
Hmm. Not entirely pampered. Efficient.
"But I'm not saying you're not capable!" Brenda retorted, fearing offense. "Having a butler and two maids is understandable given your standing."
G6 realized her constant trio. "Ah. I'm not keeping them because I need them. They're just attached." Like loyal, useful pets. A managed resource.
"So Edmund's attached?" Keith interjected, falling into step with a mischievous grin.
Edmund, walking behind, felt a flush warm his neck.
"Come to think," Earl added, fueling the fire with a sly smile, "Alistair was furious when Edmund disappeared after you initially… dismissed him."
"Edmund, are you attached to my fiancée?" Prince Dio asked, voice cold, not turning.
Edmund cleared his throat, composure under fire. "You could say I'm fond, but it's rooted in deep gratitude to the Worthon family." Diplomatic. Evasive.
Tch. Smooth talker. Just tell them you sneaked out while they thought you were sulking.
"See? Don't press Edmund, Prince Dio! Forgot who patched your scraped knees?" Keith teased, every word a needle aimed at Prince Dio's pride. Keith grinned wider at the prince's mounting irritation.
"Why are you standing beside her?" Prince Dio finally snapped, noticing the formation: G6 flanked by Brenda and Keith; he and Earl behind; Eliza hovering like a nervous shadow.
"I'd rather have this water gun beside me than someone who grabs opportunities in blind spots," G6 stated flatly. Internally, grinning. Pressing this button—knowing the truth of the kiss while Prince Dio suffered in ignorance—was a delightful pastime.
What in blazes does she mean? Prince Dio thought, frustration tangible.
"Is it… alright I brought a servant?" Eliza ventured softly, insecure.
"It's fine. They were assigned to aid your transition," Earl answered kindly.
"I just feel… shy. Except Lady Reise, none of you have a servant."
"As I said, my needs are met at the Villa. Same for these three," Brenda said, gesturing to the noble-born Pillars and Prince.
"Indeed," Keith agreed.
Prince Dio remained silent, his classic dismissal of anyone beneath his direct attention—the same treatment he'd once given the original Reise.
They reached the Collegium library, filed into the secret passage. Zen and Jester, Earl's elder brother, waited, expressions grim.
"Brother," Earl greeted with a nod.
"Good morning, Your Highness, all," Zen said, bowing.
"Good morning, Prince Dio," Jester added, voice a deep baritone. "And to all. Shall we? It's 7:50."
"I'll take the initiative." Jester approached a massive, framed battle painting. He placed his identification card against the gilded frame. A visible surge of mana—a tremendous amount—flowed from him into the card, making the air hum. The mana was dense, almost a physical pressure.
Teleportation consumes huge user mana. A significant weakness. G6 filed it away.
The painting glowed, colors swirling into a vortex of reddish light, expanding to a man-sized portal.
"Shall we?" Jester stepped through first.
The others followed. Princess Dio waited for G6. "Reise," he called, a command and a plea.
G6 stepped cautiously into the glow, Princess Dio immediately behind, Edmund a silent shadow.
❈.❈.❈
The other side was not a room but a vast, opulent hallway dwarfing even the Queen's chambers. Crimson silk walls, intricate gold leaf. Polished marble floors reflected crystal chandeliers. A plush, blood-red carpet ran down the center. The heart of power.
Is this the main palace? G6's eyes scanned: strategic width, ornate pillars—potential cover—grand paintings depicting landscapes, castles, valleys.
Hmm… a visual map of key locations?
Jester led at a brisk pace until they stopped before towering, ornate doors guarded by two knights in full, immaculate plate.
"Good morning, Your Highness. Esteemed Pillars." The doors pushed open.
The throne room was breathtakingly vast, designed to intimidate. High vaulted ceilings lost in shadow. Light streamed through enormous stained-glass windows, casting colored patterns on assembled nobility. Rows of the kingdom's most powerful figures stood facing the raised dais, whispers creating a low, anxious hum.
On the dais sat the King. A man in his prime, stern features, striking white-greyish hair like Prince Dio's—white wolf's fur—and pale, pristine skin. Regal attire: deep navy blue coat with gold epaulets and braiding, crimson sash, high-collared white shirt. He exuded weary authority.
Beside him, the Queen with customary grace. To her right, an empty chair for Prince Dio. To her left, the Crown Prince—late twenties, a more severe version of the King's handsomeness, expression unreadable, eyes sharp and assessing.
As the group entered, the room's attention snapped to them. Jester, Earl, Keith, Zen, and Brenda moved to the front of the right-side row. Prince Dio ascended the dais to sit beside the Crown Prince.
"Lady Reise," Edmund whispered, subtly guiding her to the front line of the right row, following the other Pillars.
As she took her place, her gaze fell upon the three men seated in imposing chairs just below the dais on the left—the Three Pillars.
Who are they? Tch. Arrogant. She matched them to the heirs she knew. One had Keith's teal-blue hair and formidable, military bearing. Keith's father. The Prime Minister of Knights, Duke De Lune. Next, sharp intelligent green eyes and Earl's green hair, posture of deep analysis. Earl's father. The Kingdom's Head Strategist, Duke Nocturne. The third had neatly styled faint mauve hair, like Ray and Ron. Expression severe, gaze sweeping with calculating air. My 'father'. The Prime Minister of External Affairs, Duke Worthon.
"My Reise!" a familiar, booming whisper from behind.
"Lower your voice, you oaf," Ray scolded Ron.
Great. Stuck with these two.
Her brothers slipped into the line behind. "How are you, dear sister?" Ray attempted decorum.
"You look beautiful as ever! That style makes me weep with joy!" Ron added, dramatics undimmed.
"Can you not talk? You're embarrassing me," G6 said flatly, noticing disapproving glances from nearby nobles. Keith chuckled beside her.
"Stay away."
"Don't be so mean!" Keith whined, delighted.
Earl, Zen, and Brenda stood steadily beside Jester and a severe-looking woman—Earl's elder sister. An unbroken front line of Pillars' heirs. Eliza, visibly uncomfortable, was placed in the front line of the opposite row, isolated among high-born nobles who looked down their noses.
What did you expect? These arrogant nobles deem commoners unworthy.
"It seems you are all now present," the Queen's voice rang out, magically amplified. A hush fell. "I will cut to the chase. We received a report from the Adventurers' Guild last night."
Edmund, standing just outside the row, met G6's gaze for a fraction. The game begins.
"A horde of goblins was found and eradicated near Oak Village."
Leo stepped forward. "The source is highly reliable."
A disbelieving murmur.
"Are you certain?" The Prime Minister of Military—Keith's father—boomed, not waiting. Voice accustomed to command.
"Ah, father can't just wait," Keith muttered.
"Yes, Prime Minister. They sent evidence." Leo gestured to a servant wheeling a cart into the center.
The servant unveiled five coarse burlap sacks, untying cords. He upended one onto a large silver platter. A pile of grisly, pointed green ears cascaded out, some caked with dried black blood. A collective, sharp intake of breath, muffled gags. The metallic scent of old blood tainted perfumed air.
"As you see," Leo announced, cold and clinical, "these contain the evidence. Roughly two hundred goblin ears."
"Impossible!" a portly noble from the opposite row shouted, face pale. "A lie! No monster disturbance in the first five villages!"
"That is precisely why we called this emergency council!" the King's voice thundered, fist striking the throne arm. The echo silenced dissent. "This is not a debate. It is a fact."
Prince Dio and the Crown Prince exchanged a look of shared concern. A direct threat.
"The guild is deeply concerned," Leo continued, gaze sweeping. "This incident, coupled with recent, unusually aggressive bandit attacks on the fourth village, suggests something is off." He paused, letting gravity sink in. Nobles shifted uneasily; their safe world was cracking. "But that's not all." Leo's voice dropped, forcing the room to lean in. "The horde leader was a Hobgoblin—a new-type demon."
The words landed like a bomb.
The three Pillar heads exchanged looks of profound disbelief.
"Commonly, monsters are only found past Haven Village, the fifth from the capital," the Crown Prince stated, cutting through murmurs. "Their presence so close is unprecedented."
"Indeed," Prince Dio seconded, brow furrowed. "The capital's proximity has always been a deterrent. What drew them?"
"The pressing question: what party handled this?" Earl's father asked. Calm, but his sharp green eyes missed nothing.
The question hung heavily.
G6 and Edmund's eyes flickered toward each other for a split second. Shit. Here it comes.
"The guild stated… a two-man party," Leo revealed.
Skeptical whispers broke out. "A two-man party?" a noble from the opposite row—court houses—scoffed loudly. "You expect us to believe that? What could two men, likely relying on simple Physical Enhancement, do against a horde, let alone a new-type? This story becomes more fantastical!"
"Now, I find myself in agreement," Duke Delune said, teal-blue hair seeming to bristle. "This stretches credibility. Is the guild seeking greater funding by inflating threats?"
"The guild gains nothing from deception," the Queen interjected, firm, silencing dissent. "As unbelievable as it seems, their report is unequivocal. A two-man party."
"We will investigate," the King declared, tone leaving no argument. "For now, priority: ensure teleportation tools in every village and town are secure and functional."
"I must speak." Duke Worthon. His tone carried the weight of his office. It felt like a direct threat to G6 and Edmund, trying to remain invisible.
"Did you acquire the names of this… remarkable party?" he asked, grey eyes scanning.
What the fuck is he scanning for? G6 kept her face a perfect, bored mask.
"We have not yet, Duke Worthon," Leo replied. "We requested their profiles. However, initial information suggests they are townsfolk from Scutum."
"Scutum?" Jester intervened, assessment logical. "Then it's less of a wonder. Scutum's people are hardened by the constant Charnel Lands border threat. Far from naive."
"That is our conclusion as well," the Queen agreed. "We should be thankful the task fell to them and not to less experienced. At least we didn't have any casualties."
It's not that hard anyway, G6 thought with arrogant dismissal. Basic crowd control and target prioritization.
"The knight recruitment was initially a response to the Northern Kingdom's movements," the Queen continued, analysis sharp. "Yet now, it seems prudent for internal threats too."
The King's attention shifted, voice laced with renewed anger. "I want the court houses focused on the confirmed threat we've failed to contain! The serial killer at large for years. The daily gazette reports another crime in the Grain Town, barely ten days' travel! What is being done?"
An older man from the front of the opposite row bowed deeply. "Forgive us, Your Majesty. The violator is exceptionally sly. Vanishes without a trace. Whereabouts unknown."
"I will not wait for another life. Employ all resources," the King commanded, gaze turning to the three Pillars. "And as for the esteemed Pillars, you will investigate this sudden monster appearance and the bandit attacks. I want to know how these bandits have precise intelligence to strike every time the capital's knights are on expedition."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Duke Nocturne said, bowing. He currently handled Prime Minister of Internal Affairs—normally the Grand Duke's role. With Prince Dio not yet ready, the task fell to the chief strategist.
"Court houses and Pillar branch family members. You are dismissed," the King declared. "Except those assigned by the Queen to the Bastion recruitment: Zen, Brenda, and Miss Eliza."
A low murmur filled the room as the crowd filed out, grim news settling heavily. The cart with grisly evidence was retrieved. The doors thudded shut. The vast room felt larger, silence profound.
As if by an unspoken signal, Jester and the elder siblings moved to the center. G6 followed, blending.
"Duke Worthon," the King said, voice more serious in the intimate setting. Duke Worthon stood. "Investigate the barriers around our borders, especially near the Charnel Lands. Full assessment."
"Understood, Your Majesty." A curt bow before sitting, expression grim.
"And to the young Pillar heirs," the King continued, "your role in recruitment is crucial. Hone magic and combat. The kingdom's safety will soon rest on your shoulders."
"We will, Your Majesty," the heirs chorused—all except G6, who remained pointedly silent.
"And Miss Eliza Hanson," the King said, tone softening. "The kingdom is grateful for your help. We look forward to your continued progress."
Eliza blushed, stunned. "It is nothing, Your Majesty. I merely fulfill my role as the chosen of God Eldrin." A flustered curtsey.
The King offered a gentle smile before his sharp gaze landed on the woman in black. "And to Lady Reise. The Queen keeps me informed of your… activities. I did not expect a future Grand Duchess to prefer the training arena. I fear it leaves you underprepared for your engagement ball."
What does he take me for? A doll for his son's amusement?
"Yet," the King added, "I am glad to hear you've been spending afternoons at the Utility Magic Department."
G6 met his gaze directly. "Your Majesty is kind to be concerned. I am aware of my duties. And if being a suitable companion for the Prince is one, I shall apply myself." A clear, bold declaration framing the engagement as cold political duty, stripping romance. A faint tightening around Prince Dio's jaw was the only sign her barb hit.
Lol. I am no one's bride.
Her brothers, Ray and Ron, didn't look ashamed. Mocking smirks played on their lips. Duke Worthon remained silent, but his stare was clear testament: the daughter before him was not the same Reise he sent.
The Queen let out a melodic laugh. "My, my, Reise. Your words are sharper than ever." She turned to the King. "I told you, my beloved, I am taking good care." Her glance toward Duke Worthon was assurance.
But before anyone else could speak, a palace messenger emerged from a side door, hurrying toward the dais.
"A response from the guild has arrived, Your Majesties." A deep bow.
"Is that the…?" Leo asked, stepping forward.
The messenger's next words sent a chill down only two spines in the room. "It is the profile of the two-man party."
For everyone else—King, Pillars, heirs—keen curiosity. Who were these powerful, unknown allies? Potential heroes.
For G6 and Edmund, pure, cold dread. The walls they'd carefully built were one piece of paper from crumbling.
Has the game proceeded into the hard and thrilling mode?
—To Be Continued…—