Tina knocked three precise times on the heavy oak door before entering her lady's room. Lilia stood cheerfully beside her, holding a tray with morning tea.
"I wonder if Lady Reise is awake yet," Lilia whispered, her voice bright with the new day.
"She must be. She's always up at dawn unless she's drunk," Tina stated matter-of-factly before turning the doorknob.
The room was bathed in the soft, early light of sunrise, but G6 was still deep asleep—a rarity in itself. She lay on her front, a clear sign she was avoiding pressure on her back. The satin black nightgown, a gift from Brenda, contrasted starkly against her pale skin, making her look almost like a porcelain doll amidst the dark sheets.
"She's still asleep," Lilia observed, her voice now a hushed murmur of surprise.
Tina's eyes narrowed, her first thought jumping in 'she's drunk'. But as she approached the bedside, her mistress's bare face came into view. It was as flawlessly beautiful as ever, yet… something was undeniably wrong. A faint, but distinct, purple bruise shadowed the corner of her mouth.
Tina's eyes widened in alarm. It looked like she had been in a fight. "Lady Reise!" she called out, not quite a yell but sharp and loud enough to startle Lilia, who rushed to her side.
G6 reacted instantly, though not by waking. Instead, she raised a hand from under the covers to swat vaguely at the air near her ear, a groggy gesture of annoyance. The movement exposed her forearm, revealing a network of fine, red scratches and the unmistakable reddish bruises.
Lilia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Tina… her arm…"
Tina's professional composure cracked. This was far worse than a hangover. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an urgent, worried whisper. "Lady Reise? My lady, can you hear me? What happened to you?"
She gently reached out, not to shake her, but to carefully pull the sleeve of the nightgown back just an inch, revealing more of the mottled skin beneath. The evidence was undeniable. Their mistress hadn't been drinking; she had been through an ordeal.
"Should we call a physician?" Lilia asked, her voice trembling with concern.
"Not yet," Tina said, her mind racing. She remembered the elegant fur coat and long gloves from the night before, the late return. It hadn't been a fashion choice; it had been a concealment tactic. "First, we need to get her awake. And then, we need to know exactly what kind of 'training' at the Utility Magic Department leaves a person looking like they lost a fight with a carriage."
Lilia, her concern overwhelming her usual casuality, gently shook her lady's shoulder. "Lady Reise, please wake up…" she called, her voice soft but insistent.
A groan emanated from the pillows. "What time is it?" G6 mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"It's already a quarter to seven in the morning, Lady Reise," Tina answered, her tone laced with a worry she couldn't fully conceal.
G6 turned over slowly, a sharp, involuntary hiss of pain escaping her lips. "Ugh…"
Tina's eyes narrowed, her suspicion hardening into certainty. This was no ordinary stiffness.
When G6 finally opened her eyes, she found both maids staring at her, their anxiety palpable.
What? It's so early for the drama— ugh, shit! My bruises!
A quick internal assessment, however, brought a flicker of relief. But it seems like Alistair's herbal tonic is effective. It doesn't hurt as much as it should. Tch, though the taste is way bitter than what he usually gives me during training.
"What exactly are you and Edmund doing at the Utility Magic Department, Lady Reise?" Tina asked, her voice deceptively calm, like the stillness before a storm.
G6 pushed herself up to sit, using the motion to buy a second to think. "I missed days of training. So, after I completed some tasks, I asked Edmund to spar with me in a vacant room at the UMD," she lied smoothly, scratching her head in a feigned gesture of nonchalance.
"And you pushed too hard?" Tina pressed, her eyes locked on G6's, searching for a crack in the facade.
"I told Edmund not to hold back," G6 shot back, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. It was the truth, twisted to fit a false narrative.
"And he didn't?" Tina's face shifted from worry to a quiet, simmering anger. That stupid bachelor. How dare he lay a hand on her with such brutality? she thought, her loyalty to her mistress instantly overriding any fondness for the scholar.
"Can you draw me a warm bath? No fancy petals. Just a warm bath. We'll be late for that witch's summons," G6 said, trying to shrug off the conversation and swing her legs over the side of the bed.
"Understood," Tina said, her voice tight. She conceded, believing the lie for now, but the image of the bruises was burned into her mind. She turned and marched into the bathroom to prepare the bath, her movements sharp with repressed frustration.
"Here, Lady Reise. It's still warm," Lilia said, offering her a cup of tea with a trembling hand, her eyes wide and watery.
"I need water first," G6 said, her throat dry.
Lilia hurried to the tea table to put the teacup down and grabbed a glass of water. By the time she turned, G6 was already walking toward the table, moving with a careful, measured gait that betrayed her pain.
"Ah, I'll be wearing my coat and gloves again today," G6 announced, lowering herself carefully into a chair.
"Lady Reise," Lilia said, smiling weakly as she offered the glass of water.
From the bathroom doorway, Tina's voice carried, crisp and clear. "There is no need to worry about your garments; they are all clean and dried." She paused, then added with pointed emphasis, "Though perhaps a dress with a higher neckline and longer sleeves would be more… appropriate for a royal meeting. The bruises on your arms are quite noticeable."
G6 froze for a fraction of a second, then took a long sip of water. Tina's observation was a warning, not a suggestion. "That's the purpose of the coat, smarty." G6 said, in annoyance.
There's no way I'd wear those pastels again.
"Lady Reise, you promised you would take care of yourself," Lilia whispered, sitting next to her, her lower lip quivering slightly.
G6 finished her water and picked up the teacup, sipping the warm liquid before speaking. "Lilia," she started, her tone softer than usual but still carrying an unshakable core of steel. "Pain is part of growth. You'll never grow if you don't understand the consequences of failure." She said it as if stating a simple, universal fact.
Lilia, as a child, only understood that her lady was hurt and didn't seem to care. Her face fell.
Tina, who had been listening from the doorway, felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She looked at her mistress—the flawless face, the battered body, the utterly detached explanation—and felt a profound shift. This wasn't the same stubborn, tempestuous lady she'd grown up with. That Reise would have been furious, dramatic, felt the injury. This woman accepted it as a necessary calculation. The change was terrifying.
"The bath is ready," Tina said, her voice hollow. "Take it now. We will prepare your changing dress and a light breakfast. Lady Brenda sent word that she and the others understand you cannot take a meal together, as all of you are in a hurry."
G6 put down the empty teacup with a definitive click and stood, walking towards the bathroom. As she passed Tina, the maid didn't just see bruises; she felt the chilling aura of secrets and violence that clung to her. It was an intangible distance, a gulf that hadn't been there before.
Once G6 had closed the bathroom door, Tina released a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. She looked at Lilia's distraught face. "Come, Lilia," she said, her voice heavy with resignation. "Let us fetch Lady Reise's garments. And… we will ask Janin for ointments."
As they left the room, Tina couldn't shake the feeling that the carefully ordered world of the West Villa was crumbling at the edges, and the epicenter of the collapse was her increasingly enigmatic mistress.
___
G6 emerged from the steam-filled bathroom to find her room empty, the bed already fixed neatly.
"They haven't come back yet?" she muttered to herself, walking towards the full-length body mirror while roughly towel-drying her hair. The silence felt unusually heavy.
"Let's see how good Alistair's Utility Magic in cooking and herbal tonic-making really is," she said aloud, with no regard for who might be watching from her open balcony or windows. Privacy was a concept she often treated with disdain.
She loosened the tie of her robe, letting it fall to her waist, and turned her back to the mirror, craning her neck to assess the damage. The vivid purple and blue blooms across her skin had faded to a yellowish-green, and the swelling had significantly subsided.
Tch. Seems like Edmund wasn't lying about that geezer being S-Rank in Utility Magic, too. My bruises look like they've been healing for days, she thought, a smirk playing on her lips. It was a satisfying result, a tangible payoff for enduring that bitter concoction.
Her head snapped towards the door at the sound of a firm knock. In one fluid motion, she pulled her robe back up and secured it. "Come in," she commanded, settling into the chair at her vanity.
The door opened to reveal Edmund. "Good morning, Lady Reise," he said, offering a formal bow. He looked tired, shadows under his eyes suggesting a late night.
"Ah. Right. Tina might try to kill you," G6 stated casually, not turning from her reflection as she began to comb her hair.
"Pardon?" Edmund's composed facade cracked for a second.
"She saw the bruises and scratches on my arms. I told her we had a sparring session and you didn't hold back," G6 explained, her tone implying it was a minor detail, like commenting on the weather.
Edmund sighed, a sound of profound weariness. The threat of Tina's wrath seemed trivial compared to the weight on his mind. "I stayed late last night at the Collegium Library," he began, stepping further into the room and lowering his voice. "I am now certain. The script on that paper is indeed a language of the Charnel Lands."
G6's comb stilled. She met his eyes in the mirror, her gaze sharp and focused. "Were you able to decipher it?"
"Unfortunately, no. The library's texts on the subject are theoretical at best; they contain no functional translator." He hesitated, his expression apologetic. "And due to the restricted nature of the materials, I couldn't bring the book on Cryomancy out for you, either."
G6 was silent for a moment, processing the setback. A lesser person would have shown frustration, but she simply filed the information away. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it myself," she stated, her confidence unwavering. She then shifted gears, her eyes narrowing slightly. "How much does Alistair know?"
A flicker of admiration crossed Edmund's face. "I expect no less from your sharpness. He knows nothing of the… specifics. He merely suspects that your activities at the Utility Magic Department extend beyond household charms. He believes you are pursuing a more… vigorous form of practical magic."
"Alistair is your cousin, right? I found out he was also a Saiden," G6 stated, watching his reaction closely. "And Janin was once an adventurer, too."
Edmund's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Yes, Lady Reise. That is correct. But… where did you acquire that information?" The family histories of the palace staff were not common knowledge.
G6's smirk returned, cold and knowing. "Just know that you can't hide anything from me."
Of course I sweet talked Janin before. It's not that hard to steal private information from her.
Before Edmund could respond, a chill ran down his spine—and this time, it wasn't from G6. He felt a pair of eyes burning into his back.
"Oh. Put that down. All of you, wait for me downstairs," G6 ordered, having seen Tina and Lilia return in the mirror's reflection.
Tina entered, her face a mask of polite neutrality that did nothing to conceal the storm in her eyes. She carefully laid G6's usual gown, and the coat and gloves. She then turned her full attention to Edmund.
"Edmund…" Tina said, her voice a low, dangerous calm.
"We'll talk on our way down," she continued, the unusual sharpness in her tone making Edmund visibly flinch and look away, a guilty man heading for the gallows.
"Lady Reise, it's just a sandwich. Alistair said bread would be best for a rushed breakfast," Lilia chirped, expertly breaking the tension. She placed a plate on the table and then pulled a small jar of ointment from her pocket. "And please apply this! Then we'll wait for you downstairs!" Her smile was bright, though the worry in her eyes remained.
G6 didn't answer with words, merely giving Lilia a long, unreadable stare. It was an understood dynamic among the three of them: G6 was a woman who rarely offered smiles of appreciation, save for mocking ones. A simple lack of complaint was her highest form of praise.
"Then, if you please, Prince Dio and others are already waiting downstairs," Tina said, her voice returning to its professional clip. The three of them bowed in unison before filing out of the room.
As the door clicked shut, G6 was left in the sudden quiet. She picked up the jar of ointment, turning it over in her hands. The brief, domestic interlude was over. Now, it was time to face the witch, and the web of secrets tightening around the palace. The game was waiting.
____
The grand staircase of the West Villa felt more like a stage for a pack of preening peacocks than a functional passage. As G6 descended, her heels striking the marble with a sound like cracking ice, the tableau of vanity below came into focus.
Prince Dio, the picture of sculpted royalty, stood near the entrance. Next to him, Earl's sharp, calculating grace provided a stark contrast. They spoke in low, urgent tones, their serious expressions almost comical to G6—as if their chatter could actually influence the coming storm.
Keith, already radiating boredom despite the early hour, leaned against a wall. His teal-blue hair and matching eyes were almost obnoxiously vibrant, a living piece of artwork who looked deeply annoyed at being forced to function before noon.
On a plush velvet chair, Brenda sat with impeccable posture, a vision of noble composure. Meanwhile, Eliza perched on the edge of another chair, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap her knuckles were white—one servant standing behind her. Her gaze, shy and fleeting, kept drifting toward Dio with a pathetic devotion that made G6 want to roll her eyes.
Look at these arrogant faces. G6's internal monologue was a scalpel, dissecting their irrelevance.
The moment her presence was registered, the scene shifted.
Dio's head snapped up, his conversation with Earl forgotten. His eyes, previously narrowed in focus, widened as they took her in. The morning light catching the elegant black fur of her coat and the severe lines of her dress seemed to hypnotize him all over again.
"My Reise!" Keith's bored expression vanished, replaced by the excitement of a puppy seeing its favorite toy.
"Good morning, Lady Reise," Brenda greeted cheerfully, rising from her chair, her analytical eyes already cataloging every detail of the new outfit than is not really exposed last night.
All eyes were on her, and G6 felt their stares like a physical weight. She used it, letting the silence stretch as she reached the center of the foyer, a dark star around which they all orbited.
"You're as stunning as always," Brenda added, a hint of genuine admiration in her voice.
G6 allowed a faint, calculated smile to touch her lips—a special expression reserved solely for Brenda, her primary supplier of Sanctum and Omnia's inventions. It was the smile one gives to a useful tool.
"Good morning, Lady Reise," Eliza murmured, also standing, offering a timid smile.
G6 responded with a curt, dismissive nod. The girl was a non-entity.
"It's already late. Are we not leaving?" G6 asked, her tone implying the delay was a personal insult.
"Right, Reise. We only have a short time before the meeting commences," Earl interjected, adjusting his glasses. "You may bring only one of your servants. The teleportation tool has a limited capacity for a single activation."
"What? It can't carry more people? Why invent a useless thing?" G6 snapped, her irritation genuine. Inefficiency was a cardinal sin.
"It has a fifteen-minute cooldown interval and can only carry ten people at a time," Earl explained patiently. "Zen and my elder brother are already waiting at the Collegium."
Tch. What a pain.
"Only Collegium staff can activate the teleportation circle," Brenda added, her smile placating. "We'd be late if one of us had to stay behind and wait for the next interval."
"Then, I'll bring Edmund," G6 declared without a moment's hesitation.
"Why not bring me this time, Lady Reise?" Tina's voice cut through the foyer, sharp with uncharacteristic boldness. She had entered silently with Lilia and Edmund. "Edmund is always with you anyway."
"That's right," Prince Dio added, a clear hint of jealousy souring his tone. "He does seem to be in your company constantly."
"Someone's jealous," Keith whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Dio responded by silently but forcefully stepping on Keith's foot.
"OUCH!" Keith yelped, hopping on one leg.
G6's gaze swept over Tina's worried, angry face and Dio's petulant one. "Tina, I understand your concern. But you will stay here with Lilia. Edmund comes with me." Her tone brooked no argument. He was her strategist, her co-conspirator; a bath attendant was useless for what lay ahead.
Tina sighed in defeat, but her eyes burned into Edmund. "Edmund. Remember what I said." The threat in her voice was palpable.
"I understand. Such a thing will never happen again," Edmund replied, pale but firm. He then turned to Dio and bowed slightly. "And Your Highness, please do not think hostilely of me. I am merely the nearest and most capable aid to my lady."
"Don't mind that opportunity grabber, Edmund," G6 said dismissively, already turning to walk towards the villa's rear exit.
Opportunity grabber? What does she mean by that? Dio thought, completely oblivious to the landmine he was standing on. His confusion was a small, satisfying sight for G6.
She paused after a few steps, not bothering to look back. "Tina, Lilia. Take the carriage if you want to tag along." It was not an invitation but a concession, a bone thrown to their loyalty. "Hurry."
Despite the order, a wave of relief washed over the two maids. They exchanged a small, happy smile. They would be there, a familiar presence to hopefully temper their lady's impulses and prevent Edmund from enabling whatever violence she had in mind.
As G6 led the way, the rest of the party fell in behind her—a procession of nobles trailing a woman they could neither understand nor resist. It was undeniable. Despite her venomous personality, an unspeakable aura of power and magnetism clung to her, a gravity that kept them all in her orbit. All, except for Eliza, whose gaze remained fixed on the prince, drowning in a different, far more common kind of spell.
______
The walk to the Collegium was a study in noble dynamics. G6's question to Brenda hung in the air, revealing more than she intended.
"Why don't you have a personal aide with you, Brenda?" G6 asked, genuinely curious. In her world, operational support was non-negotiable.
"I'm capable of myself, Lady Reise. Besides, Janin takes care of my well-being at the Villa. I've no need for a shadow on my walks," Brenda replied with a confident smile.
Hmm. So not entirely pampered. Efficient.
"But of course, I am not saying you're not capable!" Brenda retorted, fearing she'd given offense. "Having a butler and two maids is entirely understandable given your standing."
G6 then realized her constant trio trailing her. "Ah. It's not that I'm keeping them with me because I need them," she said casually, as if stating the obvious. "They're just attached to me." Like loyal, useful pets. A resource to be managed.
"So, are you saying Edmund is attached to you?" Keith interjected, falling into step beside her with a mischievous grin.
Edmund, walking silently behind them, felt a flush of embarrassment warm his neck.
"Come to think of it," Earl added, fueling the fire with a sly smile, "I heard Alistair was furious when Edmund disappeared after you initially… dismissed him."
"Edmund, are you attached to my fiancée?" Prince Dio asked, his voice cold and directed ahead without turning to acknowledge the butler
Edmund cleared his throat, the model of composure under fire. "You could say I am fond of my lady, but it is rooted in my deep gratitude towards the Worthon family." A perfectly diplomatic, utterly evasive answer.
Tch. That smooth talker. Just tell them you sneaked out when they thought you were sulking, G6 thought, amused by the spectacle.
"See? Don't press Edmund, Dio! Have you forgotten who used to patch up your scraped knees?" Keith teased, his every word a needle expertly aimed at Dio's pride. Keith simply grinned wider at the prince's mounting irritation.
"Why are you standing beside her?" Dio finally snapped, noticing the formation: G6 was flanked by Brenda and Keith, while he and Earl were behind them, with Eliza hovering near his side like a nervous shadow.
"I'd rather have this water gun beside me than someone who grabs opportunities when they see a blind spot," G6 stated flatly. Internally, she was grinning. Pressing this button, knowing the truth of the kiss while Dio remained in ignorant agony, was becoming a delightful pastime.
There again, what in the blazes does she mean by that? Dio thought, his frustration a tangible force.
"Is it… is it alright that I brought a servant?" Eliza ventured softly, voicing her insecurity.
"It's fine. They were assigned to aid your transition into palace life," Earl answered kindly.
"I just feel… shy. Except for Lady Reise, none of you really have a servant with you," Eliza said, finally finding a thread into the conversation.
"As I said, my needs are met at the Villa. I'm sure it's the same for these three," Brenda said, gesturing to the noble-born Pillars and the Prince.
"Indeed," Keith agreed.
Prince Dio remained silent, his classic dismissal of anyone he deemed beneath his direct attention—the same treatment he'd once given the original Reise.
They reached the Collegium library and filed into the secret passage. Zen and Jester, Earl's elder brother, were waiting, their expressions grim.
"Brother," Earl greeted with a nod.
"Good morning, Your Highness, and to you all," Zen said, bowing.
"Good morning, Prince Dio," Jester added, his voice a deep, resonant baritone. "And to all of you. Shall we proceed? It is 7:50."
"Then, I'll take the initiative," Jester said. He approached a massive, framed painting of a historical battle. 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 so dense it was almost a physical pressure.
So, teleportation consumes a huge amount of the user's mana. A significant weakness, G6 noted, filing the tactical information away.
The painting glowed, its colors swirling into a vortex of reddish light that expanded to form a man-sized portal.
"Shall we?" Jester said, and stepped through first.
The others followed. Prince Dio waited for G6. "Reise," he called, a command and a plea in one word.
G6 stepped cautiously into the glowing path, Dio immediately following her, with Edmund a silent shadow behind them.
The other side was not a room but a vast, opulent hallway that dwarfed even the Queen's chambers. The walls were adorned with crimson silk, trimmed in intricate gold leaf. Polished marble floors reflected the light from crystal chandeliers, and a plush, blood-red carpet ran down the center. This was the heart of power.
Is this the main palace? G6's eyes scanned everything, noting the strategic width of the hall, the placement of ornate pillars—potential cover—and the series of grand paintings depicting various landscapes, castles, and valleys.
Hmm… a visual map of the kingdom's key locations?
Jester led them at a brisk pace until they stopped before a set of towering, ornate doors guarded by two knights in full, immaculate plate armor.
"Good morning, Your Highness. Esteemed Pillars," they greeted in unison, their voices echoing as they pushed the massive doors open.
The throne room was breathtakingly vast, designed to intimidate. High vaulted ceilings were lost in shadow, and light streamed through enormous stained-glass windows, casting colored patterns on the assembled nobility. Rows of the kingdom's most powerful figures stood facing the raised dais, their whispers creating a low, anxious hum.
On the dais sat the King. He was a man in his prime, with stern features, the same striking white-greyish hair as Dio—like a white wolf's fur—and the same pale, pristine skin. He wore regal attire reminiscent of a European monarch: a tailored coat of deep navy blue with gold epaulets and braiding, a crimson sash across his chest, and a high-collared white shirt. He exuded an aura of weary authority.
Beside him, the Queen sat with her customary grace. To her right was an empty chair, presumably for Dio. To her left sat the Crown Prince—a man in his late twenties with a more severe version of the King's handsomeness, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp and assessing.
As the group entered, the room's attention snapped to them. Jester, Earl, Keith, Zen and Brenda moved to stand at the front of the right-side row. Dio ascended the dais to take his seat 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 side—the Three Pillars of the Kingdom.
Who are they? Tch. They look arrogant. Her eyes narrowed as she quickly matched them to the heirs she knew. One man had the same teal-blue hair as Keith and a formidable, military bearing that screamed of command. Keith's father. The Prime Minister of Knights. Next to him sat a man with sharp, intelligent green eyes and Earl's distinctive green hair, his posture one of deep, analytical thought. Earl's father. The Kingdom's Head Strategist, the brain. The third Pillar had neatly styled hair of a faint, aristocratic violet, just like Ray and Ron. His expression was severe, his gaze sweeping over the room with the calculating air of a diplomat who knows every secret. My 'father'. The Prime Minister of External Affairs.
"My Reise!" a familiar, booming whisper came from behind her.
"Lower your voice, you oaf," Ray scolded Ron.
Great. Now I'm stuck with these two.
Her two brothers slipped into the line behind her. "How are you, dear sister?" Ray asked, attempting decorum.
"You look beautiful as ever! That style makes me want to weep with joy!" Ron added, his dramatics undimmed.
"Can you not talk to me? You're embarrassing me," G6 said flatly, noticing the disapproving glances from nearby nobles. Keith, standing beside her, chuckled.
"Stay away," she added.
"Don't be so mean!" Keith whined, delightedly.
Earl, Zen and Brenda stood steadily beside Jester and a severe-looking woman, the elder sister of Earl. They formed an unbroken front line of the Pillars' heirs. Eliza, however, was visibly uncomfortable, placed in the front line of the opposite row, isolated among high-born nobles who looked down their noses at her.
What did you expect? These arrogant nobles deem commoners unworthy, G6 thought with contempt.
"It seems you are all now present," the Queen's voice rang out, magically amplified to fill the vast room. A hush fell instantly. "I will cut to the chase. We received a report from the Adventurers' Guild last night."
Edmund, standing respectfully just outside the row of Pillars, met G6's gaze for a fraction of a second. The game begins.
"It was stated that a horde of goblins was found and eradicated near Oak Village," the Queen continued.
Leo stepped forward. "The source is highly reliable."
A disbelieving murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Are you certain the source is reliable?" The Prime Minister of Military—Keith's father—boomed from his seat, not waiting for the full report. His voice was accustomed to command.
"Ah, father can't just wait for the briefing to finish," Keith muttered under his breath.
"Yes, Prime Minister. As a matter of fact, they sent evidence," Leo said, gesturing to a servant who wheeled a cart into the center of the room, its wheels silent on the thick carpet.
The servant unveiled five coarse burlap sacks, untying the cords. He upended one onto a large silver platter already on the cart. A pile of grisly, pointed green ears cascaded out, some still caked with dried black blood. A collective, sharp intake of breath, followed by a few muffled gags, filled the room. The metallic scent of old blood subtly tainted the perfumed air.
"As you can see," Leo announced, his voice cold and clinical, "these sacks contain the evidence. Roughly two hundred goblin ears, according to the guild's report."
"Impossible!" a portly noble from the opposite row shouted, his face pale. "This is a lie! There has been no monster disturbance in the first five villages out of the capital!"
"That is precisely why we called this emergency council!" the King's voice thundered, his fist striking the arm of his throne. The sound echoed, silencing the dissent. His intervention underscored the severity. "This is not a debate. It is a fact."
Prince Dio and the Crown Prince exchanged a look of shared concern, their previous aloofness replaced by focused alarm. This was a direct threat to the kingdom's security.
"The Adventurers' Guild is deeply concerned," Leo continued, his gaze sweeping the room. "This incident, coupled with the recent, unusually aggressive bandit attacks on the fourth village, suggests that something is off." He paused, letting the gravity sink in. The nobles shifted uneasily; the safe, predictable world they knew was cracking. "But that is not all." Leo's voice dropped, forcing the room to lean in to hear. "The leader of this horde was a Hobgoblin—a new-type demon."
The words landed like a bomb.
The three heads of the Pillars exchanged looks of profound disbelief.
"Commonly, monsters are only found past Greenhill Village, the fifth village from the capital," the Crown Prince stated, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Their presence so close is... unprecedented."
"Indeed," Prince Dio seconded, his brow furrowed. "The capital's proximity has always been a deterrent. What could have drawn them here?"
"The pressing question is, what party handled this task?" Earl's father asked. His voice was calm, but his sharp green eyes missed nothing.
The question hung heavily in the air.
G6 and Edmund's eyes flickered toward each other for a split second. Shit. Here it comes.
"The guild stated… it was a two-man party," Leo revealed.
A wave of skeptical whispers broke out. "A two-man party?" a noble from the opposite row—a member of the court houses—scoffed loudly. "You expect us to believe that? What could two men, likely relying on simple Physical Enhancement Magic, do against a horde of goblins, let alone a new-type demon? This story becomes more fantastical by the minute!"
"Now, I find myself in agreement," Keith's father,his teal-blue hair seeming to bristle with his irritation. "This stretches credibility. Is the guild seeking greater funding by inflating threats?"
"The guild gains nothing from deception," the Queen interjected, her voice firm and silencing the dissent. "As unbelievable as it may seem, their report is unequivocal. It was a two-man party."
"We will investigate this further," the King declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "For now, the priority is to ensure the teleportation tools in every village and town are secure and functional."
"I must speak." The voice belonged to the Worthon family head, G6's 'father'. His tone carried the weight of his office. The sound felt like a direct threat to both G6 and Edmund, who were trying to remain invisible in plain sight.
"Did you acquire the names of this... remarkable two-man party?" he asked, his grey eyes scanning the room.
What the fuck is he scanning his eyes here for? G6 kept her face a perfect, bored mask.
"We have not yet, Prime Minister Worthon," Leo replied. "We have requested their profiles from the guild. However, initial information suggests they are townsfolk from Scutum."
"Scutum?" Jester intervened, his assessment logical. "If that is the case, then it is less of a wonder. Scutum's people are hardened by the constant threat from the Charnel Lands border. They are far from naive commoners."
"That is what we concluded as well," the Queen agreed. "We should be thankful the task fell to them and not to a less experienced party. At the very least, we did not lose any of our citizens' lives."
It's not that hard anyway, G6 thought with arrogant dismissal. Just basic crowd control and target prioritization.
"The purpose of the knight recruitment was initially a response to the Southern Kingdom's movements," the Queen continued, her analysis sharp. "Yet now, it seems a prudent measure for internal threats as well."
The King's attention then shifted, his voice laced with renewed anger. "I want the court houses to focus on the confirmed threat we have failed to contain! The serial killer who has been at large for years. The daily gazette reports another crime in the Second City Town, which is barely ten days' travel from here! What, precisely, is being done?"
An older man from the front of the opposite row bowed deeply. "Forgive us, Your Majesty. The violator is exceptionally sly. He vanishes without a trace, and his whereabouts remain unknown."
"I will not wait for another life to be taken. Employ all your resources," the King commanded before turning his gaze to the three Pillars. "And as for the esteemed Pillars," he said, his eyes settling on them. "You will take charge of investigating this sudden appearance of monsters and the bandit attacks. I want to know how these bandits have such precise intelligence to strike every time the capital's knights are on expedition."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Earl's father said, bowing his head. He was currently handling the role of Prime Minister of Internal Affairs, a duty that would normally fall to the Grand Duke. But with Dio not yet deemed ready for such responsibility, the task fell to the Kingdom's chief strategist.
"Court houses and the branch family members of the Pillars. You are all dismissed," the King declared. "Except for those assigned by the Queen to the Bastion recruitment: Zen, Brenda, and Miss Eliza."
A low murmur filled the room as the crowd of nobles slowly filed out, the grim news settling heavily upon them. The cart bearing its grisly evidence was retrieved by a servant. Once the massive doors thudded shut, the vast throne room felt even larger, the silence now profound.
As if by an unspoken signal, Jester and the other elder siblings moved to the center of the room. G6 followed, blending into the group with practiced ease.
"Prime Minister Worthon," the King said, his voice more serious in the intimate setting. Duke Worthon stood. "Investigate the barriers around our borders, especially near the Charnel Lands. I want a full assessment."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Duke Worthon responded with a curt bow before sitting, his expression grim.
"And to the young heirs of the Pillars," the King continued, "your role in the recruitment is crucial. Hone your skills in 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, his 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 am merely fulfilling my role as the chosen of God Eldrin," she managed with a flustered curtsey.
The King offered a gentle smile before his sharp gaze landed on the woman swathed 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 upcoming engagement ball."
What does he take me for? A doll to be dressed up for his son's amusement? G6 thought.
"Yet," the King added, "I am glad to hear you have been spending your 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 of them, then I shall apply myself to it." Her words were a clear, bold declaration that framed the engagement as a cold political duty, stripping it of any romance. A faint tightening around Prince Dio's jaw was the only sign her barb had hit its mark.
Lol. I am no one's bride.
Her brothers, Ray and Ron, didn't look ashamed. Instead, mocking smirks played on their lips. Duke Worthon remained silent, but his stare was a clear testament that the daughter before him was not the same Reise he had sent to the palace.
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 husband, that I am taking good care of her." Her glance toward Duke Worthon was a clear gesture of 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," the man announced, bowing deeply.
"Is that the…?" Leo asked, stepping forward from his post.
The messenger's next words sent a chill down the spines of only two people in the room. "It is the profile of the two-man party."
For everyone else—the King, the Pillars, the heirs—it was a moment of keen curiosity. Who were these powerful, unknown allies? Potential heroes to be recruited against the growing darkness.
But for G6 and Edmund, it was a moment of pure, cold dread. The walls they had so carefully built were one piece of paper away from crumbling completely.
Has the game just started coming to an end?
— To be continued… —