"Very well." Cerydra nodded, her expression easing slightly. "Then it shall be as we preliminarily agreed. I, Cerydra, will entrust all the Coreflames gathered in this world to you. But, before that…"
Her tone grew serious once more. "You must still prove to me, and to all who are watching—that you truly possess the capability and the right to surpass so-called 'fate.'"
Phaethon stood up, his gaze as steady as bedrock. "After the campaign against the Earth Titan, we will prove to you, and to all of Amphoreus—that we possess the power to illuminate this apocalyptic age and guide the way to a true new path!"
"Good." Cerydra also rose, her scepter tapping the ground lightly, delivering the final verdict on these negotiations. "I, and Okhema, will be watching."
...
When Phaethon and Phainon concluded their talk with Cerydra and walked side by side out of the somewhat oppressive palace.
In the cool breeze of the evening, they saw the figure standing under the pillars of the palace gate—Hysilens.
She stood there quietly waiting, like a loyal stone guardian.
Seeing the two emerge, she stepped forward. Her posture remained erect as a pine, yet carried less of the bristling hostility than before.
Placing a hand lightly over her chest, she performed a standard knight's salute, her voice clear and steady:
"A belated, formal introduction for you both. My name is Hysilens, the Dux Gladiorum sworn to serve Her Majesty Cerydra, and also the Knight-Commander of the Okhema Allied Forces."
She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the brothers. "Since the imperator has acknowledged you, then by Her Majesty's will, you are considered allies of Okhema. I formally apologize for my previous discourteous attitude and guarded behavior toward you." Her apology was straightforward, bearing a soldier's bluntness.
Phaethon shook his head, his tone flat. "Unnecessary, Hysilens 1. You were merely fulfilling your duty, upholding your responsibilities as the imperator's guard and Knight-Commander. No apology is needed."
Hysilens's brow subconsciously furrowed slightly, seeming still somewhat uncomfortable with this strange form of address.
But she soon relaxed, displaying a tolerant resignation. "Very well. Since you insist on using this particular address… have it your way."
She changed the subject, with a touch of curiosity. "However, I noticed that throughout our journey, you seem to add a '1' after everyone's name. Is there a special reason for that? You need not answer if it's inconvenient."
Phaethon fell silent for a moment, his gaze seeming to drift into the distance before quickly returning.
He answered simply, "For distinction, that's all. I need a clear method to constantly remind myself… not to confuse any one person with another."
"Those are words I don't quite understand." Hysilens nodded thoughtfully. "But if it is important to you… then as you wish. Hysilens 1 it is."
She seemed to want to lighten the mood and try another way to bridge the gap. "The imperator once said that the best way to get closer to someone is to treat them as a true friend. So, as allies, may I address you both in the style I use with my friends? Of course, you may refuse at any time if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Whatever." Phainon and Phaethon answered almost simultaneously, Phainon's tone carrying a hint of curiosity, Phaethon's still nonchalant.
Hysilens's calm, water-like eyes lingered on the two for a moment, as if sensing something, then the corners of her lips lifted, offering two unexpected names. "Hmm… Then from now on, I shall call you 'White Pomfret' and 'Inky,' respectively."
She looked at Phainon and explained, "The pomfret is a common fish by the sea in my homeland. They always fearlessly, stubbornly chase the shimmering light in the water, full of vitality and hope… though sometimes, that so-called light might just be a trap humans use to catch them."
Then she turned to Phaethon. "And the cuttlefish… in my impression, they usually seem quiet, even somewhat unremarkable. But once harmed or startled from the outside, they immediately release a dense cloud of ink, sealing themselves off tightly, isolating everything. Only when they feel safe does the ink slowly disperse, and then they drift back before you as if nothing happened…"
She paused, her voice softening. "Even though sometimes, the wounds cut into them are far from healed."
Phainon clearly hadn't expected Hysilens's mode of address to be so… richly metaphorical.
He was stunned for a moment before he couldn't help but ask, "Lady Hysilens, you… why would you give us such… well, distinctive names?"
Hysilens tilted her head, seeming to find it somewhat strange herself. "Intuition? Perhaps some kind of… resonance of aura? I simply feel that the unique 'flavor' you two give off is very similar to those two types of fish from my memories of home."
"Oh, right." Hysilens seemed to suddenly remember something, raising a hand to gently call back the brothers who were about to turn and leave.
The corners of her lips curved into a bright smile, her voice clear as a spring. "The imperator has specifically arranged a banquet in your honor. It is both to welcome you and demonstrate Okhema's courtesy toward its allies."
She paused, her expression turning slightly more solemn. "And also to take this opportunity to convene representatives and envoys from the various states still remaining in the Holy City, to jointly discuss the vital task of campaigning against the Earth Titan. You two will be the undisputed protagonists of this feast. Your presence is absolutely required."
Hearing this, Phaethon's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "Convene representatives from all states? And go to the trouble of hosting a banquet invitation? So cumbersome? Just how dire has Amphoreus's situation become?"
Hysilens hesitated for a moment before explaining. "The situation is indeed not optimistic. The main root cause is that the Earth Titan has been deeply corrupted by the Black Tide."
"While the Black Tide hasn't completely covered the entire surface of Amphoreus, any area encompassed by the concept of 'earth'—mountains, plains, even the foundations of the cities beneath our feet—can spawn Black Tide creations entirely at random. This is why Okhema, located deep within the continent and seemingly far from the Black Tide frontlines, still suffers attacks incessantly."
A look of realization flashed in Phainon's eyes beside them. Crossing his arms, he analyzed coolly, "No wonder that imperator made the subjugation of the Earth Titan the primary test of our capabilities."