Chapter Text

Introduction
Hi there, if you're a Konosuba fan and my username is vaguely familiar, that's because I translated a couple of Konosuba novels from Japanese to English. Last year, while working on the translation of Konosuba Yorimichi Vol. 3, I got interested on started working on a story of my own. So, for the past 6 months or so I've been writing a mostly original story taking place within the Konosuba world. It's been a long time since I wrote, so sharing this is both exciting and nervewracking. Nevertheless, I'm really looking forward to what every thinks of this. It's been about 10 years since I stopped using forums, so I hope everything will go alright.

Thank you for reading, and let's get started.

Prologue​

An awkward silence settled over the throne room, broken only by the faint shuffle of steps on carpet. A blonde lady knight stood rigidly, her gaze locked, though her mind was anything but composed.

"…Your Majesty, with all due respect, could you… repeat that?" Her voice, usually firm and commanding, now trembled ever so slightly.

The king rose from his throne, his tone was buoyant, his grin unshakable. "You heard me correctly! The prophecy is finally unfolding before our eyes!"

The knight blinked, her expression a mask of disbelief. "I… see," she said slowly, though her head was spinning. Surely this was some sort of joke.

"What's her deal?" came a casual voice from the side of the room.

The knight turned, her composure fracturing as her eyes landed on a bizarre figure lounging by the pillar. A woman, or rather a little girl, munching on sweets, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on her nose.

"Is this her?" the girl asked, gesturing with a candy stick toward the knight. "What's her problem? Did she chip a nail on the way here or something?"

The knight's mouth opened, then closed. Her mind grasped for a response, but words failed her. Who is she? …what is she doing here?

"Oh, forgive me!" the king exclaimed, his voice bright with excitement. "I've forgotten to introduce you!" He gestured toward the woman by the pillar, who now waved lazily at the knight. "She is the reason for this urgent meeting! The one sent to us by the gods themselves! Behold, the second member of the legendary party!"

The knight recoiled, her thoughts scrambling to keep up. Legendary party? This girl?!

"Nice to meet ya!" the girl said, popping another sweet into her mouth.

"Your Majesty," the knight said carefully, her voice strained. "Surely there's been some sort of mistake."

"No mistake," the king declared, his voice brimming with conviction. "The Crimson Magic Clan has finally sent one of their own to aid us!"

The knight froze. Crimson Magic Clan? Her stomach twisted as the woman finally removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes. The realization hit her like a thunderclap.

"No. Absolutely not," she said under her breath, her composure snapping. "This cannot be happening."

"Indeed, it is happening!" the king countered, his enthusiasm unwavering. "With two members of the legendary party gathered, it is time to act! You two shall travel together to and secure the aid of the Sapphire Spirit!"

The knight's face turned an alarming shade of pale. "Together?" she echoed weakly.

"Of course!" the king said, nodding sagely. "You'll be accompanying the annual Axis Church pilgrimage. A perfect opportunity, don't you think?"

"Perfect?" the knight muttered, her eye twitching as the other woman leaned closer, her grin widening.

"Guess that makes us partners now," the woman said, throwing a companionable arm over the knight's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

The knight's jaw clenched as she tried, and failed, to step away from the maddening presence at her side.

Fun.

This was going to be so much fun.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: A Crimson Fist! – Part 1

The port town of Minmin was bustling with activity, its docks crowded with newly arrived ships. Merchants and sailors bustled about, unloading crates and barrels, their voices mingling in a cacophony of shouts, laughter, and haggling. The salty sea breeze carried the scent of fish, fresh produce, and spices, blending with the occasional whiff of smoke from the nearby forges. Streets that wound up from the harbor were filled with vendors peddling their wares, while the taverns were already lively with patrons.

A few blocks away, in the backyard of a modest two-story house, a girl was engrossed in her training.

Her bangs clung to her forehead, soaked with sweat as she repeatedly pounded a large sandbag hanging from a sturdy wooden frame. Her long black hair swung wildly with every hit, the air thick with the scent of dust and sweat. Each strike, powerful yet lacking precision, sent the bag swinging erratically.

She was short, with a slender but well-toned frame, her muscles defined from endless hours of training. Despite her petite figure, her movements carried a strength that belied her size. Her outfit, a mix of red and yellow, looked almost as fierce as the intensity in her eyes. The top, sleeveless and cropped just enough to reveal a glimpse of her midriff, was adorned with a symbol across the chest. Red shorts hugged her waist, while her right leg was wrapped in bandages, contrasting with the sleek black stocking that covered her left.

Both hands were covered by worn sparring gloves, their material scuffed from countless punches. Her stance was low and aggressive, each hit building on the last, determination etched across her face. She was a fighter in every sense, her body honed for battle, every strike filled with the passion of someone who refused to back down.

On a table behind her, lay a large worn book. Taking a break every few movements, she thoroughly checked it before resuming her training.

“Hey, Papitas!” a voice suddenly called, a boy with disheveled hair wearing a black cape and holding a magic staff emerged from the house.

She paused her training, wiping the sweat off her brow with a small towel, “What is it, Salchi? I thought I told you not to interrupt my training.”

“Do you really call this training? If anything, I’m surprised you keep wasting your time doing this.”

“I don’t expect a peanut-sized brain wizard like you to understand the appeal of martial arts. Don’t you some flowers to water or something? Get out of her, shoo-shoo!”

“My name is Salchi!” he retorted, “My calling is that of an Archwizard, the best among ages 18-21 to control water magic, and I won’t take this offense!” Throwing his cape and striking an odd pose he lifted his staff, “Take this, Create Water!”

From the point of his staff, a stream of water was fired towards Papitas. She deftly dodged, twisting gracefully in the air before moving on the counterattack, aiming to punch the Archwizard in the chest. However, as she was about to strike, she tripped, her fist now arching downward, aiming to a much more important and delicate target.

The impact was like the tolling of a bell—sharp, resonant and unmistakable. Across the entire town men froze in their tracks, a collective shiver going down their spines as if they could feel the agony themselves.

“Poor bastard” an old sailor muttered to himself, as he kept unloading cargo of a large steamboat.

Papitas made her way to the harbor, pulling a wooden carriage behind her.

Salchi lay sprawled across it, his face pale and hands gingerly cradling his crotch, “After today, I will no longer be able to have descendants. Papitas, the future of our family’s bloodline is in your hands…”

Papitas chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Aw, shut it. Consider yourself lucky you didn’t get my book wet; you’d really regret that. Our family’s future was already up to me anyway, you couldn’t possibly compare me to a 20-year-old NEET that hasn’t even kissed a girl!”

Salchi groaned, “You already did irreparable damage to my body, why do you have to crush my soul too?”

 “Anyway” Papitas said, trying to move the conversation away, “What are we doing again?”

“Foreign merchant ships just arrived, and I got roped into helping unload them,” Salchi grumbled, “Seems everyone that can cast Create Earth Golem is out of town. But I figured I could drag someone with more muscles than brain, ow—!” He yelped as the carriage jolted over a bump in the road, causing him to clutch is aching body.

“That’s the problem with you wizards,” Papitas replied with a smirk, “if you don’t know the specific spell or are without a staff, you’re pretty much useless,” She guided the carriage towards the main road leading downhill to the harbor, where the ships and bustling with activity of the docks came into full view.

Papitas stopped for a moment, taking in the scene. Then, with a mischievous grin, she called out, “Hold on tight!” before dashing to the harbor at full speed.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!” Salchi’s scream echoed as the carriage rocked and bounced wildly down the road.

“Careful, that’s fragile!”, “Stack those with the rest”, “I’ll give you one million Eris for the lot!”, “Wait, the crane’s jammed!”

The air around the harbor buzzed with shouts as sailors hustled to unload their cargo. The docks were packed with ships of all shapes and sizes, some barely larger than Papitas’ carriage, while others loomed over the waterfront like floating fortresses, dwarfing most buildings in the city.

Papitas paused, her eyes drawn to one of the largest vessels docked nearby. Her gaze sparkled with excitement as she imagined what it would be like to set foot on such ship.

“Hey, what are you gawking at?” Salchi’s voice snapped her out of her daydream, he gestured towards a fat man with a large beard and a white hat, “The captain’s over there, let’s go.”

“Captain Dori, this is who I mentioned. With her help, we’ll have the cargo unloaded in no time. Now about your goods—”

“Are you messing with me, lad? This little lass is supposed to handle those crates? The lightest one weighs over a hundred kilograms! I asked for a mage that can use Create Earth Golem!”

“Ha! Rely on those mages, and you’ll never get anything done!” Papitas scoffed, casually dropping the carriage handle, sending Salchi tumbling to the ground.

“I drank a health potion, why does it still hurt so much!?” Salchi whined, tears brimming in his eyes as he clutched his sore crotch.

Papitas approached a towering stack of barrels, easily twice her height and several times her weight. She placed her hand on one, feeling its heft.

“Don’t even bother, lassie. It’d take at least four strong men to lift one of those—what!?”

Before the captain could finish, Papitas hoisted a barrel onto her shoulders with ease, then grabbed another, balancing both as she walked back to the carriage. She set them down lightly, leaving space for a couple more.

“See, what did I tell you? When it comes to lifting heavy things she’s unbeatable!” Salchi chimed in, standing proudly next to the captain, “Now as for your cargo—What’s our payment?” he added, rubbing his hands together with a greedy glint in his eye.

“Huh—? Ah, yes, yes. We’ve brought goods from Arcanletia. The bulk of it is bottled holy water, but we’ve got a variety of wares. Come to the market later, lad. I’ll make sure you and your... lassie are paid handsomely.”

“His what?” Papitas questioned, her crimson eyes flashing as she effortlessly lifted two more barrels.

“His lovely sister!’ That’s what the captain said Papitas, nothing else!” Salchi quickly interjected, waving his hands in a flustered manner, “Anyway, let’s go to the market and get this unloaded. What’s your section, captain?”

While Salchi and the captain finished their deal, the onlooking sailors began to whisper among themselves.

“Would you look at that? Can you image what she’d be like in private quarters, eh?” one sailor from a nearby boat murmured to his colleague with a sly grin.

“If you value your life—or sanity—don’t get involved with Crimson Magic women. Either way, she’s lacking too much up there compared to her fellow countrywomen—”

“WHO SAID THAT!?” Papitas roared, her crimson eyes flaring as she forcefully dropped the barrels with a thunderous crash, shaking the entire dock. The sound echoed across the harbor, causing the other sailors to freeze in place, their faces pale with fear.

Her eyes fiery scanned the surrounding sailors, her fists clenched and every muscle in her body ready for battle.

“Um, Papitas—” Salchi attempted to interject, his voice shaky as he tried to calm his sister down.

“No! That was an insult to my honor!” Papitas declared, her voice booming across the docks, “My Crimson Magic Heart demands satisfaction!” She pointed an accusing finger at one of the sailors, her gaze fierce “It was you, wasn’t it!? The one that looks like a cabbage!”

The unfortunate sailor, now pale and trembling, stammered, "N-no, I didn’t say anything!" His eyes darted around in panic as Papitas stormed toward him, her eyes filled with murderous intent. Desperate, he pointed at another sailor, "I-it was him! He said that!" But his colleague had wisely vanished into the crowd.

Papitas’ eyes narrowed as she closed in on the cowering sailor. She hoisted the large crate the men were untying from the crane with ease, her strength on full display. She stepped closer to the terrified sailor, her eyes glowing a fierce crimson.

"Come on," she taunted, her voice low and menacing. "Say that again. To my face this time."

The sailor, frozen in terror, could barely form words, "I-I’m sorry," he stammered, his voice trembling. "All sizes are good. I meant no offense!"

Papitas' expression shifted into a smug grin as she leaned in closer. "Really?" she said, her tone mocking. "I guess you didn’t mean to drop this into the water either."

"W-what—?" The sailor's question was cut off by the sound of splashing water as the crate slipped from Papitas' grasp and plunged into the water.

She then returned to the dropped barrels, resuming her task with relentless efficiency. Taking the carriage loaded with barrels to the market and back. Repeating this process until all the cargo was delivered.

As the sun dipped below the horizon after a full day’s labor, Papitas sat atop a stack of unopened crates, her gaze fixed on the bustling central plaza now transformed into a makeshift market. The lively buzz from the docks had shifted here, where merchants were setting up their wares for sale. Over fifty stalls lined the square, showcasing a myriad of products from overseas—clothing, weapons, armor, books, and curious items Papitas couldn’t even identify.

“Satisfying, isn’t it? To take a break after a long day’s work,” Salchi said, leaning casually against the crates beneath her.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything,” Papitas retorted an annoyed expression.

“No, no, little sister. Unlike you, I used my brain and got us this job. You wouldn’t be sitting up there if it wasn’t for me!”

“Ah, there you are!”

“Captain!”

“Thank you very much for your help today lassie. I must admit, I know you Crimson Magic folks can be a bit… unique. But I had no idea you could become so strong! Tell me, what kind of magic are you using?”

“No magic here captain.” Papitas replied with a proud flex of her biceps, “It’s all muscle! I’m a Martial Artist, not a wizard—it’s all natural!”

“Huh? I thought everyone in this country was supposed to be a wizard?”

“Don’t mind her captain” Salchi said, dropping an arm over the captain's shoulders and steering him away, “Regarding your wares, I believe you got some of those special adult books? You know, the kind that aren’t for the general public,” His playful demeanor suddenly turned serious.

“Ah, indeed we do”, the captain replied with a knowing smile, “Such entertainment is essential for all sailors. Be sure to come after dark; we can’t sell those during the day. I’ll set aside some of the highest quality material just for you.” He gave Salchi a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Captain. I knew it was a great idea to work with you,” Salchi said, lifting his thumb in response.

As Salchi released his grip, the captain turned to face the puzzled Papitas, still perched on the crates. “I hope you’ll join us for drinks tonight, lass. I’ll cover your tab, of course.”

“Yeah, I’d love to—!”

“No, no, no. You’re welcome to join us for dinner, but there’ll be no drinking on my watch!”

“Aww, come on!”

“You might be a bit too strict on your sister, Mr. Salchi. After all, she did most of the work. It’s unfair for her not to join us.”

“It’s not me being strict, captain. She can’t drink until she graduates—those are the rules. She’s welcome to join us for the meal, but no drinks.”

“Aww…”

Papitas tried to enjoy her dinner at one of the bustling pubs by the docks, packed with drunken sailors, merchants, and Salchi. Despite a few offers of drinks earlier in the evening, they were quickly turned down by her brother and the pub staff, who used magic to enforce the rule against giving the young girl any booze.

“Screw this…,” she muttered, chewing on a piece of duxion meat. She wanted to finish quickly so she could head home, but the constant noise and jostling made it challenging.

Suddenly, the captain appeared with a serving of flan. “Here you go, lassie. Sorry about this, but you know how the rules are in your country. We can't afford any trouble while we're here.”

“It’s fine, captain,” Papitas said, nearly finishing the flan in one bite. “Sometimes it feels like the whole place is against me. By the way, how long will you be staying?”

“We’ll set sail in a week, that’s the limit of our permit,” the captain replied, taking a sip from his pint. “Make sure to visit the market, lass—I’m sure you’ll find plenty that interests you.” With that, he stood up and left, leaving Papitas to finish her dinner.

She watched the captain disappear into the crowd, his boisterous laughter blending with the lively chatter of the pub. She sighed and pushed her empty plate away, her mind drifting to the days ahead.

With a glance at the bustling pub, Papitas stood up and made her way out. The night air was cool against her skin, and the stars above twinkled faintly, almost mocking her indecision.

Taking a final look at the docked ships, she made her way back home.

Monday, the next morning.

The sun bathed the city in a soft golden light as Papitas made her way towards the Crimson Magic Academy. Perched atop a hill, the school overlooked the bustling city below, its clock tower visible from nearly every corner. The streets leading up to it were alive with students of all ages, their flashy uniforms standing out against the stone pathways. All the students wearing long black capes adorned with yellow and a red collar, the girls wearing pink shirts and skirts, while the boys wore red shirts and black pants.

As she navigated the crowded streets, Papitas’ sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar figure a few blocks ahead, a girl holding a paper bag in hand, munching on a snack.

“STEAAAAAAAAAL!” Papitas roared, breaking into a sprint. The girl whipped around in surprise, a large cookie clutched between her teeth, but it was too late. With a swift motion, Papitas snatched the bag from her hands.

“Ahhhhh, delicious taiyaki. Your taste in food never disappoints, Furita,” Papitas declared, already taking a hefty bite out of one of the snacks.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Furita protested, her voice trembling as she half-cried in dismay. Furita complained like a little girl, despite her height and body development making her look like the older sister compared to Papitas. Her hair formed into a large bun on the back of her head.

“This may seem like a bad deed, Furita,” Papitas said with a playful grin as she swallowed the taiyaki. “But I’m just protecting you from overeating! I mean, look at this!” She reached over and pinched Furita’s stomach, making the girl squeal.

“S-S-S-S-STOP THAT!” Furita cried out, her face turning red. “I-I just haven’t had time to work out much lately because I’ve been busy earning the skill points I need!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Papitas replied with a smirk, tossing the bag back to Furita, now holding just one taiyaki. She turned to continue toward the school.

“Papitas, Papitas! Have you gotten enough skill points yet?” Furita hurried after her, clutching the bag. “According to my adventurer’s card[1], I’m …a bit far away. I should be ready for next week… I hope.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got a few dozen points to spare, no big deal,” Papitas said, shrugging as she finished the last stolen taiyaki. “But that doesn’t mean I’m easing up on my training.”

“Are you seriously not going to do it?” Furita asked, her concern evident. “You know that if you don’t learn Advanced Magic[2], you won’t graduate, right?”

“Yes, yes,” Papitas responded nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about that—”

“You’re not planning to dropkick the headmaster again, are you!?” Furita’s voice rose in alarm.

“Well, about that—” Papitas began, scratching her cheek awkwardly.

“My, my, if it isn’t our favorite knucklehead!” came a mocking voice from the school entrance. A trio of girls were waiting for Papitas, pointing and laughing as some students gathered to watch.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, Marakuya?” Papitas scoffed, glaring at the leader of the trio. “Why don’t you make it like a tree and leave? We’re going to be late soon.”

“Thankfully, this is our final week together,” the leader, Marakuya sneered. “I just wanted one last look at you. After Monday, I’ll be an Archwizard, and you’ll be a… what was it? A wrestler?” She burst into laughter lifting one of the large curls that fell to the sides of her head, her cohorts echoing her mockery.

“Well, if you want, I can teach you some wrestling!” Papitas lunged forward. Marakuya was too busy laughing to notice as Papitas grabbed her by the waist and executed a powerful suplex, flipping the girl over and exposing her pink panties to the onlooking crowd.

“See, I told you they’d be pink today. You owe me lunch,” one boy whispered to another, as if this spectacle was a regular occurrence.

Marakuya’s cohorts quickly scrambled to pick her up and rushed inside the school, knocking aside some of the gathered students. “You’ll regret this, bitch! This ends next Monday—you won’t make a fool of me anymore!” Marakuya yelled as she fled.

“Ohhhhhhhohohohoho~!” Papitas cackled with an exaggerated, ear-piercing laugh that rang out across the schoolyard.

“U-Um, Papitas—” Furita began nervously.

“Hey, don’t interrupt, I’m laughing at those idiots…” Papitas slowed her laughter as she noticed the large witch’s hat of the stern figure standing behind her. “M-Miss Morocho! T-this is all a misunderstanding! They started it! I was just defending myself—”

“Lightning,” the teacher intoned in a monotone voice. From the clear sky, a bolt of lightning struck Papitas on the head, leaving her standing still for a moment before collapsing face-first onto the ground.

“Make sure she’s not late,” Miss Morocho instructed Furita, her gaze sharp and commanding. “Show’s over! Everyone, get to class!” The crowd dispersed instantly under her authoritative tone.

Papitas sat at her desk, balancing a pencil on her lips, her hair frizzed into an afro from the lightning strike earlier. The classroom buzzed with chatter as students exchanged last-minute gossip. Furita, sitting beside her, was absorbed in a book, while on the opposite side of the room, Marakuya sat with her cohorts, brushing her hair and whispering.

Suddenly, the sliding door slammed open, and Miss Morocho strode in, silencing the classroom instantly. "Good morning, girls, and welcome to your final week at the Crimson Magic Academy. Starting Monday, you all will be Archwizards." Her gaze swept across the room, pausing pointedly on Papitas with an edge that made Papitas sit up a little straighter.

"I expect everyone has enough skill points by now?" Miss Morocho's question was met with a chorus of affirmations, though a few nervous murmurs rippled through the class.

"For those still falling short," she continued, her voice carrying a hint of warning, "we’ll be focusing on intensive studies this week. Now, take out your history books. We'll be finishing our lessons with the Sixth Tenma War."

Papitas sighed inwardly as she retrieved her well-worn history book. Another boring week, she thought, flipping to the designated page. At least it’ll be the last one.

As Miss Morocho droned on about the Tenma War, Papitas found her mind drifting. Her eyes scanned the text, but her thoughts were miles away. The weight of the impending graduation hung over her, but instead of excitement, she felt a knot of uncertainty tightening in her chest.

From her window seat, Papitas had a clear view of the harbor. Captain Dori’s ship stood out among the others, just as it had every time she’d seen it. I have to do it, she thought, her gaze lingering on the vessel before she forced herself to focus, at least outwardly, on the lecture.

With another day of classes behind them, Papitas and Furita made their way home.

“I’m so glad we won’t have to do this much longer,” Papitas said, stifling a yawn that turned into a large snore. “Hey, are you free to go to the market today? I want to see what all the foreigners brought.”

“I’ll be at the restaurant all day, it’s all the busier with all the foreigners and my mom asked me to help out,” Furita replied, her shoulders slumping as she glanced at her adventurer’s card. “I didn’t realize I’m still missing so much; I’ll never make it in time—hey!”

“Oh wow, you’re right, there’s no way you’ll make it,” Papitas teased, swiping the card from her and giving it a quick look. “I wish I could transfer you some skill points; I have way more than I need.”

“Papitas…” Furita suddenly stopped in her tracks, her expression turning serious with clear concern etched on her face. “Are you really going to do it?”

“I’d be a coward if I didn’t. I’ve been telling you about this for years. I won’t become an Archwizard,” Papitas replied, not turning around to face her. “Come on, let’s go have lunch. Judging by your stomach, you’re hungrier than me!” She flashed a grin as Furita blushed, her stomach growling loudly in agreement.

A few blocks later, they arrived at a ramen shop in a bustling district filled with various eateries. “I’m home!” Furita announced as they entered.

“Welcome home!” a large woman wearing an apron and a chef’s bandana greeted from behind the counter, skillfully serving plates to other customers. “You too, Papitas. All good?”

“As always, ma’am. I’ll have a large bowl of tonkotsu ramen. You can give the duxion meat to Furita—she needs it more than me!”

“Hahaha…” Furita laughed nervously, avoiding her mother’s stern gaze.

“Not that you’re not welcome here, Papitas, but why don’t you ever eat lunch at home?” Furita’s mother asked while preparing their food.

“My father’s always busy and comes home late. We don’t have dinner together often. Salchi is useless as ever—I’m definitely not cooking for a NEET! There’s no one to cook for me, and it’s not like I’m any good at it anyway. Besides, why wouldn’t I want to eat your terrific ramen?” Papitas replied with a big smile, though both Furita and her mother noticed the slight tinge of sadness in her voice.

“Well, you’re always welcome here, but remember, after you graduate, prices for you will double.” She then clasped her hands together. “Ah, that reminds me! We’re going on a family trip to Patakon on Monday to celebrate Furita’s graduation.” She gave her daughter a playful pinch on the cheek. “You’re very welcome to come. I’d hate for you to spend your first days as an adult home alone.”

“Thanks, ma’am, I’ll think about it.” Papitas said, her eyes drifting to the streets outside with a longing look.

Furita couldn’t help but glance at her friend with concern. Before long, their food arrived, and both girls ate like they hadn’t in days.

“Ahhhh, thanks a lot, ma’am!” Papitas exclaimed, dropping her bowl with a satisfied sigh. “Well then, I’m off to train. See you tomorrow, Furita!”

“Ah, wait!” Furita called out, but Papitas had already sprinted out of the restaurant.

Tuesday

Papitas' class gathered in the schoolyard for their final PE session. The girls were all dressed in white shirts and bright red bloomers, chatting among themselves until the teacher—a very large and muscular bald man—appeared, his booming voice roaring through the yard.

“Good morning, girls! I hope you’re all ready for our final class. Make sure to pay attention, as this may be the most important lesson of all!”

His voice echoed so strongly that some of the girls covered their ears, and students from the surrounding classrooms started peeking out to see what the commotion was about.

“Let me begin with a question. Furita!” he suddenly called, causing her to stand up straight.

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“When in combat, what is the most important thing for a member of the Crimson Magic Clan?” he asked, his focused gaze intimidating the already frightened girl.

“A-Ah… well, I guess to keep calm and have a sound strategy…?” she began strong, but her voice trailed off into a barely audible whisper by the end.

“Completely and utterly incorrect,” he declared, making Furita sigh and slump her shoulders in defeat. “What about you, Papitas?” he then directed his attention to Papitas, who had been happily shadowboxing, PE is her favorite class.

She perked up immediately, “To mercilessly crush our enemies with overwhelming force! To teach the world not to mess with the Crimson Magic Clan! Ahahahahahaha!” she shouted manically, her laughter echoing like that of a villain. Her intense response drew awe from some of the surrounding students.

“Closer, but still incorrect,” the teacher retorted, leaving Papitas with a very audible "Huh?"

“Come on, how many Gates of Hell Festivals have you girls attended? At least one of you must know the answer!” He scanned the class until Marakuya lifted her hand.

“To look amazing,” she said, striking an odd pose that made most of the class clap in approval.

“That’s exactly right!” the teacher roared triumphantly. “A strong impression is what matters the most! Make sure your enemies know how amazing and stylish you are!”

At his powerful declaration, the girls began to clap loudly, except for Furita, who was too bewildered to understand what was happening.

“By the end of class, I want each of you to give me your signature introduction. Here, let me show you how it’s done.” He lifted his right hand, encased in a large metallic gauntlet that began to glow brightly. The clear skies suddenly turned dark with stormy clouds gathering overhead, “I am Wayaba!” he bellowed as several lightning strikes hit the gauntlet. “The best PE teacher in the city of Minmin, and future owner of the city’s greatest gym!” He finished by opening his clenched fist, releasing a bright flash of light.

“And that’s how it’s done,” he said in a casual tone, some of the girls having been blown back by the flash. “Keep in mind that both the speech and the pose are incredibly important. Form pairs and practice among yourselves. I’ll be back in a while.” He then took his leave, whistling as he walked away, the sky clearing back up.

“Isn’t he the only PE teacher? And this city has no gyms…” Furita muttered incredulously as she sat on the ground.

“Come on Furita, practice with me! I’ve always wanted to do this!” Papitas exclaimed, stars in her eyes as she quickly shifted through different poses.

“Oh, is our resident boxer going to give it a try? You do realize this is for Wizards, don’t you?” Marakuya sneered, her cohorts giggling behind her.

“Don’t get cocky just because you aren’t wearing a skirt now!” Papitas retorted, flexing her arms. “That shirt of yours could still be sent flying!”

Marakuya flinched but didn’t back down. “I am Marakuya!” she shouted. “The prettiest girl in the city of Minmin! And after I become an Archwizard, I’ll get my revenge!” She struck a pose, her locks flowing stylishly, drawing further awe from the class. “Beat that, Martial Artist!”

The sudden challenge excited Papitas, who took a dramatic pose and yelled, “I am Papitas! Daughter of the town chief and future greatest Martial Artist of the Crimson Magic Clan!”

While Papitas stood confidently, her declaration only drew snickers from most of her classmates.

“She’s still calling herself that?” “Her father must be so disappointed…” “We’re in the final week; when will she come to her senses?” “Weirdo…”

The murmurs spread through the class, but Papitas was all too used to them. Furita tried to intervene but was quickly stopped by Papitas’ confident smile. “Come on, let’s practice. Your introduction needs a lot of work,” she said, leading Furita away.

It had been such a stressful day at the academy that Papitas needed to blow off some steam. After the PE class, she ran laps around the town, her way of shaking off the stress. By the time she was ready to head back home, the sun had set for a long time, and the night sky hung above her. She was drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her body as she made her way through the busy streets.

Before returning home, Papitas stopped by a small bakery, the warm glow of the shop’s lights drawing her in. She picked out a few treats, her mind on something else as she paid. With a small bag in hand, she continued her walk.

When she finally arrived at her house, she stopped in front of the door, catching her breath and trying to tidy herself up. Can't enter in such a sorry state, she thought, using the edge of her shirt to wipe away some of the sweat from her face and neck. After wiping away as much as she could and smoothing down her wild hair, she finally turned the key and stepped inside, flipping on the light at the entrance. The house was silent, all the lights off, just as she’d expected. "I’m home…" she called out softly, the words hanging in the stillness.

The house was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost reverent. She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the small altar in the corner of the living room, the place where she always went first when she got home. The altar was simple but well-kept, with a photograph of a woman who could have been mistaken for an older version of Papitas. The resemblance was striking, down to the curve of the jaw and the relaxed expression.

The altar was adorned with small offerings: a few fresh flowers, some incense sticks, and a couple of carefully placed mementos. Papitas kneeled in front of it, her movements slow and deliberate.

“Good night, Mom,” she whispered, her voice soft and reverent. After a moment of silence, she reached into the bag she’d brought from the bakery and took out the sweets, setting it down with care, “I brought some manju, your favorite.”

She bowed her head respectfully, taking a moment to close her eyes and offer a silent prayer. The room smelled faintly of incense; a comforting scent that always made her feel closer to her mother, “It’s almost time, our promise. I should be in that town a week from now.”

She remained there for a few minutes, simply being in the moment, before she rose to her feet. Her legs trembled slightly, the day’s exertion catching up to her as she made her way upstairs, pausing briefly to glance at the empty rooms of her father and Salchi before retreating to her own. She collapsed onto her bed, her body aching, but her mind more resolute than ever.

Wednesday

The following afternoon, after enduring another round of exhausting lectures with Miss Morocho, Papitas and Furita finally headed to the market to check out the foreign goods.

“Hey, isn’t that your brother?” she pointed at a young man trying to draw customers to a book stall.

Papitas followed her hand and sighed. “So that’s what he’s been up to. That NEET isn’t working just for money; there’s something else to this.” She looked at Salchi with clear disgust.

“Why don’t we go greet him—?” Furita said, smiling.

“No.” Papitas cut her off sharply.

“But—” Furita tried to insist.

“No,” Papitas repeated, even more firmly this time. “Come on, let’s go. I want to get new sparring gloves. Hopefully, I’ll find plenty of replacements for my training gear.” She then moved closer to one of the stalls, clearly done with the conversation.

The main plaza must have been around four blocks across, with a large manatite statue of some ancient hero standing proudly in its center. The plaza had been transformed into a makeshift market, filled with dozens of stalls run by foreigners selling their wares.

“By the way, Furita. How much money did you bring?” Papitas asked as they wandered through the bustling crowd.

“About ten million Eris. That’s supposed to be a lot of money outside the islands,” Furita replied, lifting a large money bag. “And I’m not lending you any!” she quickly added, narrowing her eyes.

“Don’t worry about that. I helped bring some stuff here the other day, so I’m owed some payment,” Papitas dismissed her concern with a wave of her hand. “Now, just where might Captain Dori be…” She put a finger to her chin, scanning the crowd for the familiar face of the captain.

As the girls moved through the market, merchants from every stall tried to catch their attention, offering everything from clothes to weapons to odd trinkets they couldn’t even identify.

“I’ve been wondering, Furita,” Papitas began, glancing over at her friend.

“Hmm?” Furita replied, distracted by the bracelets she had just purchased.

“What kind of magic are you planning to specialize in?”

“Where does that come from? You never want to talk about magic,” Furita said, surprised.

“I just wanted to make some small talk. You’ve been staring at those things in silence for over 20 minutes!” Papitas huffed.

“What!? Oh, well, I’ve been thinking of fire-based magic. I could help more at the restaurant.” Furita’s voice dropped in volume as she spoke, clearly self-conscious about her choice.

“That’s not something to be embarrassed about, you know? I don’t get why you’re so insecure about what you like—Ah! There he is!” Papitas interrupted herself, spotting Captain Dori at a stall, smoking a large cigar.

“Lass! I almost thought you wouldn’t come!” Captain Dori greeted Papitas with open arms, shaking her hands vigorously. “Mr. Salchi already got paid, and he’s even working more to earn further payments! Hahaha!” He laughed heartily, pointing at Salchi, who was diligently tending to his stall.

“Whatever…” she cringed looking at Salchi, “What do you have for me? Oh, this is my friend Furita. If she likes something, we’ll take it too!” Papitas said, her tone making it clear she expected to be catered to.

“T-that’s not necessary—!” Furita stammered, trying to protest, but Papitas quickly silenced her with a glare.

“Well, most of what we brought was holy water, but that was a special delivery, not for sale. We do have some of the newest fashion from Arcanletia: blouses, skirts, shoes, dresses, plenty of things for young lassies like yourselves!” Captain Dori explained, gesturing to his wares.

“Ugh…” Papitas grumbled. Fashion wasn’t her thing, but she went along with it as soon as Furita showed interest. The captain led them through his goods, showing off the various items.

After what felt like hours to Papitas, but was actually just 30 minutes, she finally spotted something that piqued her interest. “Hey, what’s that?” she asked, pointing to a box deep within the stall.

“Oh, these? They’re special new items called ‘sunglasses,’” Captain Dori said, opening the box.

“How can you see anything with these things?” Papitas asked, lifting a pair of sunglasses and examining them before putting them on. “Woah! Everything looks really dark!”

“They’re meant to shield your eyes from sunlight. Helps when it’s too bright out. Though lots of young folk wear them even when it’s dark too, apparently because they’re ‘cool,’” Captain Dori explained with a chuckle.

“Cool?” Papitas echoed, her curiosity piqued. “You got a mirror?”

“Oh, sure, here you go—”

Papitas snatched the mirror, staring at herself with the sunglasses on. “Cool? Cool!? That barely describes this!” she declared, striking a triumphant pose that startled both Furita and Captain Dori. “I am Papitas!” she announced dramatically, “And I just got the coolest attire in the entire Crimson Magic Islands!”

Later.

Papitas was making her way home as the sun began to set, still proudly wearing her new sunglasses. Her intention was to train to exhaustion before heading to bed, just like she did most evenings. However, her plans were abruptly interrupted when she spotted Salchi waiting for her at the door.

“Hey Papitas—wait, what are those things? They’re cool as hell!” Salchi exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of her sunglasses.

“These, NEET brother,” Papitas replied with a mischievous grin, pointing at her sunglasses, “are the fruit of my hard work the other day. And you ain’t getting any!” She gave him a playful but firm look, clearly enjoying her prize.

“Aww, come on—” Salchi began, but then his playful demeanor shifted to seriousness. “No, no, that’s not what we need to talk about.” His expression grew more somber. “Father will be coming for dinner tonight. Please dress… appropriately. I’ll go out to buy the food.”

Papitas’ cheerful expression faltered, replaced by a steely resolve. She stood frozen for a moment, her eyes narrowing as Salchi walked past her. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, slightly trembling.

With a deep breath, Papitas straightened herself and turned to enter the house, mentally preparing for the evening ahead.

Dinner was eerily silent. Papitas, Salchi, and their father sat around the low wooden table, each absorbed in their own thoughts, the only sounds being the soft clinking of chopsticks against bowls and the faint rustling of clothing as they ate. Papitas glanced briefly at the small altar dedicated to her mother, her eyes lingering on the photograph. How long has it been since we were all together like this? she wondered, though the silence made her wish the meal would end quickly. There was little she had to say to her father anyway.

“I’ll be going on an official trip starting Friday,” her father suddenly announced, setting his chopsticks down with a soft clatter. He looked at his children, his stern expression unchanging.

“Where are you going, Father?” Salchi asked, sensing that their father expected one of them to respond. A quick glance at Papitas confirmed she had no intention of indulging him.

“Nice of you to ask,” their father replied, his tone remaining as impassive as ever as he stroked his moustache, “I’ll be traveling to Zankocho. I have an appointment with the main chiefdom at the capital. I’ll be gone for a week or two.”

Not even going to attempt to attend the graduation, eh? Papitas thought, though she felt no real disappointment. She had never expected him to make the effort. She kept her eyes down, focused on her meal, mentally distancing herself from the conversation.

“Um, Father…” Salchi hesitated, glancing at his sister, who was clearly growing more irritated by the second. “Papitas’ graduation is on Monday. Are you sure you can’t delay the trip—?”

“I have truly important matters to attend to,” their father interrupted sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. His words cut deeper than Papitas cared to admit, reaffirming what she had always known. Still, she forced herself to continue eating as if the conversation had nothing to do with her.

“Daughter,” he addressed her directly, his voice softening slightly as he tentatively reached out, attempting to place his hand near hers. “We have something important to discuss, but it will have to wait until after your graduation. Once you become an Archwizard, is that understood?”

“Of course, Father,” Papitas replied in a monotone, not bothering to look up. As she noticed his hand inching closer out of the corner of her eye, she swiftly folded her chopsticks. “Thank you for the food,” she clapped her hands together and then quickly stood up, “If you’ll excuse me,” she added, her voice flat and distant as she left the room without making eye contact with either her father or Salchi.

The sound of her bedroom door closing sharply echoed through the house. Salchi turned to their father, who had already resumed eating as if nothing had happened. “Father, are you sure—?”

“She’ll understand in due time, boy. She’ll understand,” their father replied, his tone devoid of warmth, as if his words were more of a command than a reassurance.

Thursday

It’s the final day of class. With a special event arranged for Friday, most classes went by as each teacher gave final advice on life as Archwizards and recommendations on what to do as adults. During break, most of the final-year students, including Papitas, spent their time in the library.

She wandered through a section she knew well, Foreign Arts, a place she had visited countless times over the years. She was giving it one last look, though she doubted she had missed anything. Most books were so old they were close to falling apart. She sighed in disappointment, then made her way to another of her favorite sections, Foreign History. While heavily outdated, there was always something interesting to discover here.

As she scanned the large bookshelf, her eyes landed on one of her favorite books, Adventurers of Belzerg. She had read it several times since she was little and quickly flipped to the page she was looking for.

[The post Demon King world.

After centuries of relentless warfare against the Demon King’s Army, the Kingdom of Belzerg finally entered a prolonged era of peace following the defeat of the Demon King by a group of adventurers who have since passed into legend. Though the names of these heroes, their origins, and their ultimate fates have been largely lost to history.

This loss of knowledge was compounded by the fall of the Belzerg royal capital more than 200 years ago, which resulted in the loss of most historical records from that era. However, the deeds of these legendary adventurers remain immortalized in the annals of Belzerg.

Among these legendary figures were a blue-haired Archpriest known for her divine healing and unshakeable faith, a Crusader whose unmatched defense was as famous as her noble lineage, a fiery Crimson Magic Clanswoman who wielded the destructive power of Explosion magic, and a mysterious figure, often referred to as 'some guy', whose role in the defeat of the Demon King remains the subject of much speculation.

The story of how this diverse group overcame countless trials, defeated the Demon King’s generals, and ultimately brought an end to the terror that had plagued the world for so long is known far and wide across the continental region. They became the stuff of legends, inspiring countless generations of adventurers who dreamed of following in their footsteps.

The peace period ended approximately 300 years ago when the Demon Queen rose with a new army…]

Papitas thought to herself, Members of the clan going on adventures? Almost feels like a different reality. The Crimson Magic Clanswoman had always fascinated her. Though often mentioned in history books, details about what she was like or even her name were lost in time.

The tale of how this legendary party defeated the Demon King was a well-known children’s story on the islands, and Papitas had heard several different versions of it, but they all ended the same way: with the Demon King being defeated with Explosion magic.

Explosion magic can cause unparalleled destruction but comes at a great cost—draining all of the caster’s mana and leaving them utterly defenseless. Despite its power, Explosion magic has long been considered joke magic, shunned by most due to its significant drawbacks.

Miss Morocho had told the class many times that, regardless of how cool the story of the legendary party was, learning Explosion magic was a waste and that they shouldn’t bother. Very few people across the islands could use it—mostly elderly Archwizards who had already mastered other types of magic and did it to fill out their adventurer’s card. Although there’s also an odd sect known as the Crazy Explosion People, a group of eccentrics dedicated to mastering the supposedly useless magic.

Before Papitas realized, it was time to return to the classroom. As she put the book back on the shelf, a mocking voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Still daydreaming about running off to be an adventurer, huh?”

Papitas cringed as she turned to see Marakuya standing at the end of the shelf, a smug grin on her face.

“You do realize that without becoming an Archwizard, you’ll never get off this island, right?” Marakuya continued, slowly approaching Papitas with a confident, almost predatory smile as she twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers.

“I’ll manage,” Papitas replied curtly, hoping to end the conversation, but her path was blocked by Marakuya’s cohorts, who wore equally menacing grins.

Papitas quickly turned back to face Marakuya, only to find an adventurer’s card shoved right in front of her face.

“See this? Advanced magic. I’ve got enough points for it and a very special spell. Why don’t I unlock it with Cursed Lightning? I’m curious to see how a supposed Martial Artist like you plans to counter that.” Marakuya’s tone dripped with condescension as she teased Papitas. “Oh, I just can’t wait for Monday. Why don’t you show us your card? I’d love to see how many Martial Artist skills you’ve unlocked! Hahahahahaha!”

The laughter of Marakuya and her cohorts echoed through the now mostly empty library, filling Papitas with a mixture of anger and frustration.

“I don’t see why I should do that—wait!” Papitas was about to leave when she realized her adventurer’s card had been snatched by one of Marakuya’s minions, who darted off in the opposite direction.

“Get back here!” Papitas roared, giving chase as the girl tossed the adventurer’s card to Marakuya.

She caught the card and began reading it aloud in a mocking tone. “Let’s see how many skill points our little fighter has…” Her tone dropped as she continued reading. “What the hell is this?!” she shouted, shocked by what she saw.

Papitas quickly snatched the card back.

“You have twice as many points as needed—you could’ve graduated last year!” Marakuya’s voice was filled with disbelief, but Papitas simply gave her a brief glance before turning to leave.

“Wait, one more thing!” Marakuya called out.

Out of patience, Papitas turned around, clenching her fists and ready for a fight. “What?”

“Those dark glasses… where did you get them?”

Papitas had not taken off the sunglasses since she bought them, and she wasn’t about to give Marakuya the satisfaction of a proper answer. She simply smirked, turning back around to leave Marakuya and her lackeys fuming in the library.

Papitas and her class sat waiting for Miss Morocho to arrive for the last time. The room buzzed with an odd sense of anticipation, an unfamiliar mix of relief and sadness.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Papitas murmured, her voice carrying a note of melancholy. “For so long, I was counting down until the last day, but now that it’s here… it feels weird. Miss Morocho will walk through that door, but after today, we won’t be dreading her lectures or scrambling to avoid her wrath anymore.”

“I know what you mean,” Furita replied softly, her eyes scanning the classroom with a nostalgic gaze, “I’m going to miss seeing all my friends every day.”

Before the sentiment could get any deeper, the sliding door slammed open with its usual force, startling everyone. Miss Morocho entered the room with her typical no-nonsense flair.

"Good day, girls. Time to talk about our final topics," she began briskly, her eyes concealed under her large witch’s hat. For well over an hour Miss Morocho explained in detail several careers the girls could follow, as well as what kinds of magic to specialize in and how.

The class was not unlike a typical one, that is until the final minutes, where she changed topics to the upcoming graduation, "First of all, anyone still lacking the necessary skill points will need to attend tomorrow’s Gate of Hell Festival. We’ll meet at the south train station with the younger students." She gave Furita a sharp look as she said this, causing the rest of the class to giggle. Furita blushed but smiled sheepishly.

"Second, regarding Monday’s ceremony," Miss Morocho continued, changing topics swiftly, "you will all be required to wear your uniforms, and don’t forget your adventurer’s cards. I’ll be expecting you all to be here no later than 8 a.m. The ceremony will begin at 9, with seating for families starting around 8:30. The ceremony will be straightforward: each of you will present your card to the headmaster, unlock advanced magic, and officially become Archwizards." A small cheer went up from the class—something that would have been unthinkable on any other day. Miss Morocho, though visibly annoyed, let it slide, just this once.

“That’s about it,” she said, pausing as if searching for the right words. “It may be embarrassing to admit, but you girls are the first group to graduate under me. You can’t imagine how proud I am of you all.” Her voice wavered slightly as she dipped her head, the brim of her hat obscuring her eyes. “I’m sorry if I was ever a little strict, but I did it all thinking of your wellbeing.” She bowed deeply, an act of humility that shocked the class into silence. “Thank you very much!”

The atmosphere grew heavy with emotion as Miss Morocho’s speech took everyone by surprise. Before anyone could react, she straightened up and flashed a rare, warm smile. “Well, that’s enough of that. So, for the last time, class dismissed!"

Rather than rushing for the door, eager to leave, most girls lingered, crowding around Miss Morocho to offer heartfelt thanks, handshakes, and even tearful hugs. Furita was among those who embraced her, tears now streaming freely down her face. Papitas, though touched by the moment, found herself feeling oddly detached from it all. It was strange seeing Miss Morocho like this. After a while, Papitas realized she was the last student left in the classroom. She lingered for a moment before stepping outside with Miss Morocho.

Furita waited nearby, just outside of earshot, as Papitas spoke quietly to their teacher. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but she could see the emotion on Papitas’ face—her head lowered, shoulders shaking as if trying to hold back tears. Whatever Miss Morocho said next must have been comforting, because Papitas suddenly wrapped her in a strong hug, holding on for just a moment longer than expected. As the teacher walked away, Papitas bowed deeply in gratitude, standing still for a moment before finally turning to leave.

Outside the school gates, Furita caught up with Papitas, who seemed a bit distracted.

“Hey,” Furita called out gently. “Want to hang out today? The restaurant is closed.”

Papitas seemed lost in thought, her eyes wandering toward the harbor and Captain Dori’s ship. After a moment, she snapped back to reality. “Oh, uh, sure. But I’ll need to leave before nightfall. I have something important to take care of.”

She didn’t elaborate, and Furita didn’t press further, though her eyes followed Papitas’ gaze toward the harbor, a feeling of unease settling in her chest.

Papitas and Furita headed back to Furita’s room to enjoy a snack together. The atmosphere was relaxed, but there was an underlying tension within Papitas that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Papitas looked at her wristwatch and noticed the time. It was 4:30 pm. “Hey, Furita, at what time do the banks close?”

“Hmm?” Furita murmured, more focused on her snack than the conversation. “I think at 5 p.m. Why?”

“I’ve got to go!” Papitas suddenly jumped, startling her friend as she rushed out of the room.

Furita watched from the window as Papitas sprinted away. “Papitas, what’s the matter!?” she shouted, but Papitas didn’t turn around.

She arrived at the Crimson Magic Bank with ten minutes to spare. Out of breath and sweaty, she limped over to the only available teller. “I… need… a… withdrawal…,” she managed to say between gasps.

“Of course, miss,” the teller greeted her with a polite smile. “May I see your adventurer’s card?”

Papitas handed over the card, still trying to catch her breath. The teller placed the card into a magic device, checking it. “Everything looks in order, Miss Papitas. How much would you like to withdraw today?”

“I… need… fifty… million,” Papitas replied, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

The teller’s expression turned serious as he checked the device again. “I’m sorry, Miss, but your withdrawal limit is set at five million per day, as established by your father.”

Papitas’ eyes widened in disbelief as she quickly tried to think of a solution, but there was no time. “Then please, give me the five million,” she said, resigned.

Back in her room, Papitas made a mess as she frantically gathered everything she could. The lights outside indicated that night had fallen. She stared at her desk, where stacks of cash and coins were scattered. “This barely amounts to ten million,” she muttered, her voice filled with desperation, “But it’ll have to do. Another withdrawal might raise suspicion, and I can’t ask Furita.”

With a clenched fist, she stuffed the money into a bag and stormed out of the house, not caring that no one was around to notice.

She made her way to one of the main pubs by the dock, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, reflecting both determination and dread. She scanned the pub for her target, trying to be as discreet as possible. Finally, she spotted him: Captain Dori, whose cheeks were flushed from drinking, was laughing with some of his sailors.

“Ah, good evening, lass!” he greeted her cheerfully as she approached. “Mr. Salchi mentioned you’re graduating on Monday. Shame we’ll be leaving at the same time. I’d love to share a drink with you, but I guess that’ll have to wait until next time!” He laughed heartily, and his men joined in.

Papitas ignored the merriment and sat at the chair in front of the captain, dropping the sack of money in front of him.

“What’s this?” The captain’s demeanor shifted instantly, becoming deadly serious. “You don’t need to pay for those sunglasses you’re still wearing,” he said, not touching the bag. “They were a payment for your work. If anything, it’s too little. If you want more, go to the market before we tear it down on Sunday morning. I’m sure there’s plenty you’ll like.”

Papitas took a deep breath, carefully choosing her words. “This isn’t about that,” she said, staring directly at the captain with determination. “This is payment for a ticket on your ship.”

The captain leaned closer; his expression grim. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, lass.” He pushed the bag back to her. “Only Archwizards may leave this country. You know how it is.”

Papitas didn’t back down. “I must leave, Captain,” she insisted, emphasizing the urgency. “You don’t understand my situation—”

“No, lass,” the captain interrupted, “I don’t think you understand our situation.” His tone was firm. “The coast guard will inspect the ship with a magic device before we leave. If they find that we’ve stolen something or, Eris forbid, kidnapped a child, we won’t live to tell the tale.” He pushed the bag back to her with his left hand while his right hand rested on his pistol, a gesture not lost on Papitas.

“Captain!” she began, trying to keep her voice steady.

“No, lass,” he cut her off again. “You’re a good girl, Miss Papitas, and I’m sure you’ll become a great Archwizard,” he said, causing her to grit her teeth. “But I’m not risking my men’s lives because of a girl’s whim.” He motioned to the door. “Please, take your money and leave. I don’t want any trouble.”

Papitas’ anger was palpable, and the sailors around the captain instinctively readied their weapons.

Just as she was about to speak, the door to the pub burst open, and a loud voice boomed, “Goooooooooooood evening everyone!” Papitas immediately recognized it—Salchi had arrived at the worst possible time. She grabbed the money and made for the door.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here!” Salchi called after her as she pushed past him. “You’d better not have been drinking—we’ll do plenty of that on Monday!” He laughed loudly, but Papitas ignored him and left the building.

“What was her problem?” Salchi asked the captain, who looked as if he had aged twenty years in the last few minutes.

“All’s well, lad,” the captain replied, regaining some of his composure. “Come, let me buy you a beer.”

Friday

The train station at the southern end of Minmin was bustling with activity. Dozens of students from the Crimson Magic Academy filled the platform, accompanied by their parents, teachers, and other adult volunteers.

“Quiet, everyone!” The soft-spoken headmaster attempted to calm the crowd, but only a handful of students seemed to notice him.

“SILENCE!” Miss Morocho’s strong voice immediately silenced the station, even the adults straightened up.

“T-Thank you, Miss Morocho. Well, good morning, everyone! Today the Crimson Magic Academy will take its students to the…huh?” The headmaster managed to grab attention for only a brief moment. After a few words, most students resumed their chatter.

“MISS FURITA!” Miss Morocho’s voice roared again. Making Furita, who had tried to stay as far from her former teacher as possible, recoil in horror.

“Y-Yes!?” Furita stammered, her voice barely audible.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you!” Miss Morocho’s voice echoed across the station.

“YES MA’AM!” Furita yelled, as her mother stealthily approached her.

“Here,” her mother whispered, pointing a small magic wand at her, “Thaumaturgy.”

“What may I do for you, Miss Morocho?” Furita’s voice now reverberated clearly, thanks to the spell.

“Do you mind explaining to your fellow students what we are going to do today? I believe you’re very familiar with this operation.” Miss Morocho’s voice still outdid the magically enhanced Furita.

“Oh, um—we’ll be going to one of the Gates of Hell on this island to do an extermination. A lot of dangerous monsters, demons and devils gather around over time, and it’s the duty of the Crimson Magic Clan to show them who’s boss.” She stammered over a few words, her nervousness evident.

“Very good, please continue.” Miss Morocho’s tone was satisfied.

“W-well, the adults will take care of the monsters so we, the students, can give them the finishing blow and earn all the experience points for ourselves.”

“Yes, that’s correct. Thank you, Miss Furita. You’ve earned a skill potion. The Gate of Hell is an hour away by train. You’ll be split into groups, each accompanied by adults. You are to stay behind the adults until it’s confirmed that the monsters can no longer move, at which point you’ll deliver the finishing blow. After you graduate, you’ll be able to tear through them as easily as you tear through your breakfast pancakes. But remember, you are still harmless; follow the rules, and nobody gets hurt.”

“Miss Morocho, if I may—” The headmaster had prepared some kind of written speech and tried to get Miss Morocho’s attention.

“You may not,” she curtly cut him off before resuming her instructions.

At the opposite end of the group, Furita sighed heavily. “Why does she always pick on me?”

“It’s because you’re easy pickings,” Papitas suddenly appeared, resting her elbow on Furita’s slumped shoulders.

“P-Papitas!?” Furita couldn’t hide her surprise and joy. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you say you had enough skill points?”

Papitas gave a confident smile. “Oh, I do. I just wanted to tag along; don’t worry, I won’t be stealing your experience points.” She noticed two other girls from their class nearby. “Hornado and Kui? I never imagined you two would be missing skill points.”

“I tried to get my mom to buy skill potions, but she insisted I do this the ‘real’ way,” Hornado, a slender girl with dyed white hair covering one of her eyes and using bright purple lipstick, replied. “I’m only missing two skill points—one monster should be enough.”

“I’ve been so absorbed in the swimming club’s activities I honestly forgot to complete most of my tasks,” Kui, a tall, tanned girl with short hair, replied. “I checked my card after Miss Morocho asked and was shocked to see I was missing nearly ten points!” she said, laughing it off. Then she placed her elbow on Furita’s other shoulder. “At least I’m not doing as bad as a certain someone!” she teased, pinching Furita’s cheek.

“No way, how many are you missing?” Hornado asked curiously.

“Eighty points,” she replied so softly they could barely hear her.

“What was that?” Papitas leaned in closer, pretending she hadn’t heard.

“Eighty points,” Furita repeated, her voice slightly louder.

“We can’t hear you!” the three girls chimed in unison, grinning widely.

“She’s missing a lot!” Furita’s mother interjected, lightly whacking the three girls on the tops of their heads. “We’ll be taking down a lot of monsters. That should help you two as well—you’ll have plenty of spare points after unlocking advanced magic.”

“By the way, what’s in the bag?” Hornado asked Papitas, noticing the large backpack she was carrying. Furita stood frozen in place, still embarrassed.

“I didn’t come empty-handed,” Papitas replied, patting the bag. “I brought food for a picnic. Figured it’d be a heavy day for Furita. Also, some spare weapons in case any of you forgot.”

Their conversation was cut short by the loud whistle of a steam engine. The train was arriving, and all attention in the station turned to it. Students and their parents began queuing up for the entrances.

“It’s here. You girls sure you didn’t forget anything?” Furita’s mother asked.

“Ahem, I will be joining this group as well.” Furita turned pale as she heard an all-too-familiar voice behind her. “You’re still my students, after all,” Miss Morocho said.

“Alright!” Kui celebrated. “I’ve always wanted to see what you can do, Miss Morocho!”

“Yes, yes.” Miss Morocho waved off the excitement, signaling her students to board the train. “Let’s go,” she directed.

“A moment, Miss Papitas.” She stopped her just as she was about to follow the others. “Those dark glasses, where did you get them?”

Rotten land, withered plants, and the skeletal remains dotted a barren wasteland. It could’ve been a scene straight out of hell if not for the large group of children and their families traversing it as if going on a field trip.

It had been over thirty minutes of a mostly downhill trek since leaving the train station. The pristine forest of the Crimson Magic Islands slowly but surely gave way to this hellish landscape. Despite the eerie environment, the entire group was eager to arrive at the Gate of Hell; it was hard to find anyone whose eyes weren’t glowing with anticipation.

“Hey, the students from Minmin are arriving!” a guard at a checkpoint post called out to his colleague.

Without taking his eyes off a magazine, the other guard replied, “Go with them to open the gate; I’ll hold down the fort here,” flipping a page nonchalantly.

The first guard approached the group, led by the headmaster, to exchange greetings.

“Welcome! Another year, another Gate of Hell Festival, eh?” the guard said with a grin.

“Indeed,” the headmaster replied, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “We’ve brought a promising batch this time. Are we clear to go?”

“All clear. I’ll lead you to the gate.” The guard waved them forward.

Furita nervously scanned the desolate surroundings, the only one among the group showing a hint of dread. Even the younger children were happily running around, as if this was a normal outing, some even played with the bones of dead monsters.

“A-Are we there yet!? I want to go home…” Furita stammered, clutching her spear tightly.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” said Miss Morocho, carefully cleaning her staff in preparation for the upcoming battle. “You’ll know we’re close when you hear the cries of lost souls.”

A thunderous roar echoed through the wasteland, shaking the ground beneath them.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Furita screamed, terror seizing her.

“Was that a wyrm?” Papitas asked, unbothered.

“No, no, that was clearly a greygnarl,” Kui said, lifting a finger as if giving a lecture.

“Are you two deaf? It was a black dragon, no doubt about it,” Hornado asserted, puffing out her chest.

“It was a skelegon, girls,” Furita’s mom interjected, her tone calm and matter of fact. “We’re near a Gate of Hell; the monsters you mentioned are too weak for this area.”

“This is close enough,” the guard announced, stopping as a large hole in the ground came into view, bright red light emanating from it, with faint lights darting around as the cries of lost souls filled the air, mingling with the distant roars of monsters. “Form up around the gate. I’ll open it when you’re ready.”

The main group split up, forming a loose circle around the Gate of Hell, each team consisting of no more than 10 people, with at least two adults leading each. Papitas’ group took their position, Furita’s mom and Miss Morocho taking the front, wands and staffs at the ready. The girls lacking sufficient skill points positioned themselves behind the adults, spears in hand. Further back, Papitas was carefreely laying out a blanket, getting ready for the picnic.

“Everyone ready?” the guard called out. The adults nodded, their faces eager. “Alright, here it goes… Release!”

A bright golden light appeared at the entrance of the hole before shooting skyward at tremendous speed, disappearing into the clouds. Almost instantly, a massive swarm of monsters erupted from the gate.

Some flew with powerful wings, others bounded forward on muscular paws, while a few floated menacingly, defying gravity. All of them surged toward the people with murderous intent, sharp claws and sharper teeth gleaming.

What would normally terrify even the most hardened adventurers instead brought wide grins to the adults' faces as they readied their spells. Staffs, wands, and other magical catalysts glowed brightly around the gate, each charged with immense power.

Hell broke loose—not because of the monsters, but because the adults unleashed their magic all at once.

“Inferno!” “Thunderstorm!” “Bottomless Swamp!” “Dimensional Hell Break!” “Light of Saber!” “Cursed Crystal Prison!”—and many more spells filled the air. Fire, ice, lightning, and other elements tore through the monsters, some of which were annihilated the moment they emerged from the gate, unaware of what had even hit them.

“Glacial Cataclysm!” Miss Morocho yelled, summoning an endless barrage of ice arrows that shot toward the oncoming horde.

“Ultros!” Furita’s mom followed, conjuring a large black orb of energy that she hurled at a gigantic living armor, causing an explosion on impact.

“Girls, there!” Miss Morocho directed, pointing to her right, “That gigantos on fire can barely move—take it out!”

The three girls charged, spears in hand, screaming. Hornado and Kui wore the same deranged expressions as the adults, but Furita hesitated, tears pooling in her eyes. This scene repeated all around the gate, as the dying monsters were picked off by the children—dullahans, liches, great devils, deadly poison slimes, growth chimeras, dark gods, fallen angels, etc. Monsters that would typically be the final challenge for an average adventuring party, were all slain by cheering children, an impartial observer would probably feel sorry for the monsters.

Meanwhile, Papitas continued preparing the picnic, setting out tea, glasses, and a basket filled with sandwiches. “I put pepper in some of these sandwiches; does anyone not like spicy food?” she called out, raising her voice to be heard over the cacophony of the extremely one-sided battle.

“None for me, please!” Hornado shouted back, wiping some blood off her skirt.

As Papitas separated the sandwiches, she made sure everyone else was distracted before sneaking a package into Furita’s bag.

A couple of hours later, the battle had mostly subsided. The few straggling monsters that leaked out of the gate were quickly slain by the adults, but most were now enjoying a pleasant meal with their children, including Papitas’ group.

“Ah, I can’t believe I actually did it!” Furita sighed in relief, rubbing her adventurer’s card against her cheek. Hornado and Kui had done the same a while ago, and the six were now enjoying their picnic on the edge of the battlefield.

“The way you screamed after that dead killer machine moved its arm was hilarious!” Kui said, pointing at Furita and laughing while stuffing her face with a sandwich.

“It almost sliced me in half!” Furita protested.

“You would’ve been fine,” her mother said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I didn’t take my eyes off you for a moment. It’s been years since I last attended one of these—I forgot how much fun they could be.”

“You were amazing, ma’am!” Hornado exclaimed, her eyes shining with admiration. “The way you shot that light arrow at the undead king was incredible!”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Furita’s mom replied, blushing and rubbing the back of her neck.

“Don’t forget about Miss Morocho!” Kui added, pointing at their teacher. “I didn’t even know ice dragons could be frozen!”

“They don’t call me the Ice Witch for nothing,” Miss Morocho said with a chuckle.

Their pleasant conversation was interrupted by another monster roar, the loudest of the day.

“It’s an alabast dragon!” the guard announced, peering down into the hole and spotting a gigantic white dragon climbing to the gate.

“I’ll take care of it!” the headmaster declared, rolling up his sleeves and readying his staff.

“Are you sure about this?” one of the teachers questioned, a slight tremor in his voice. “You know the deal—these things require a team effort.”

Alabast dragons were the bane of the Crimson Magic Clan for a reason: they had incredibly high magic resistance, meaning it took a tremendous amount of powerful spells to damage them. Not only that, but their special scales absorbed and reflected magic, making them nearly the perfect counter for an Archwizard. The only reliable way to deal with one was through physical combat or by overwhelming it with magic. Standard procedure dictated that several Archwizards attack it simultaneously.

“No, that’s okay,” the headmaster replied with a confident smile. “I’ve got a new spell I’m dying to try!”

The attention of most picnics shifted to the headmaster, who stood on top of a large rock overlooking the gate. He began chanting as the ground shook with the dragon’s approach.

Darkness beyond twilight,

Crimson beyond blood that flows,

Magic began leaking from the tip of his staff, multicolored streams flowing in every direction.

I desire for my torrent of power a destructive force:

A destructive force without equal!

Return all creation to cinders and come from the abyss!

This is the mightiest means of attack known to man,

The ultimate attack magic!

Large magic rings appeared above the gate, encompassing it and bathing the surroundings in crimson light.

The tower of rebellion creeps upon man’s world…

The unspoken faith displayed before me…

The time has come!

Now, awaken from your slumber, and by my madness, be wrought!

The dragon’s roars were deafening as it got closer to the gate, making the ground shake violently.

Let the fools who stand before me be destroyed!

The dragon quickly emerged from the gate and made a beeline for the headmaster, but he stood his ground, his eyes glowing with intense crimson light.

“Explosion!” he shouted, thrusting his staff forward.

The blast was nothing short of cataclysmic. A deafening roar tore through the landscape, sending shockwaves that rippled outward with terrifying force. The ground quaked violently as the explosion obliterated the remaining dead trees, and the corpses of fallen monsters were hurled into the air like ragdolls.  An immense cloud of smoke and debris surged upward, towering over the Gate of Hell and darkening the sky, visible from Minmin far away. The sheer power of the explosion echoed across the entire island.

When the smoke cleared, the alabast dragon was reduced to mere ashes.

“W-What the hell was that!?” Furita screamed, coughing as she struggled to see through the thick dust coating her from head to toe.

“Wow, Explosion magic! I can’t believe it!” Papitas exclaimed, grinning widely despite being suspended upside down from the branches of an uprooted tree.

All around the Gate of Hell, the scene repeated—people rising shakily to their feet, covered in dust, dirt, and even monster guts, as they surveyed the aftermath of the colossal explosion. Their collective groans filled the air when they turned and saw that the Gate of Hell had also significantly expanded, though there were no monsters around to be found.

“Oh man, closing this again is going to be a pain!” the guard grumbled, running a hand through his hair, which now stood on end, thanks to the blast.

With the chaos subsiding, the group slowly reassembled around the headmaster, who was sprawled face down on the ground, utterly immobile.

“Ahem!” Miss Morocho cleared her throat, her witch’s hat nowhere to be seen.

“Please help me…” the headmaster groaned weakly, still lying motionless on the ground.

“Let this be a lesson to everyone!” Miss Morocho's voice boomed as she looked around, ensuring all the students were paying attention. “This! This is why explosion magic is a waste. None of you want to end up like this withered old fool, now do you?”

“M-Miss Morocho, that’s not necessary—” the headmaster tried to protest, his voice feeble.

“Look how easily I can hit him now that he can’t move at all!” Miss Morocho declared, grabbing the headmaster by the collar and giving him a series of powerful slaps. “This is the fate of anyone foolish enough to follow the path of explosions!”

“P-Please stop!” the headmaster begged; his voice full of despair.

“Look how pathetic he is!” she resumed, this time pinching his nose and giving it a twist for good measure.

Most of the students shuddered at the sight, quickly resolving never to dabble in explosion magic. But Papitas was the exception. She remained entranced, her eyes shining with admiration at the remnants of the cloud left behind by the explosion, her heart racing, the first time she’d gotten this reaction from seeing magic.

“Clean yourselves as best as you can,” Miss Morocho instructed, letting go of the headmaster, who slumped back to the ground with a groan. “Those who can use water magic, please help out. We’ll be heading back to the station in less than an hour—the train will be waiting for us by noon.”

After 1 p.m., the south train station in Minmin was abuzz with activity once more as the train disgorged its passengers—children and their families scattered in every direction, the air filled with laughter and chatter. Papitas, Furita, Hornado, and Kui were caught up in their own lively conversation, sharing exaggerated retellings of the day’s events, mostly at Furita’s expense.

“I knew I’d find you here!” Salchi’s voice suddenly cut through the jovial atmosphere as he grabbed Papitas by the arm.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!” Papitas protested, turning to her friends for support, but Salchi didn’t relent.

“You knew Father is leaving,” he said, his expression serious. “He told me he wanted a photo of the whole family for the media. He was furious when he didn’t find you at home this morning. I’ve been looking for you all day!” Despite her struggles, Salchi’s grip remained firm. “Come on, we might just make it!” he urged, glancing at her uniform, still dirt-stained from the day’s events.

At the main train station in Minmin, a group of well-dressed individuals gathered, waiting for the train bound for Zankocho. Among them was Papitas’ father, his impatience evident as he tapped his foot, surrounded by journalists holding magical cameras, yawning in boredom.

Salchi finally pushed through the crowd, still holding Papitas by the arm. “We’re here, Father. Papitas was helping her classmates at the Gate of Hell, she’s not exactly presentable…”

The sudden appearance of the chief’s children immediately drew the attention of the onlookers, especially the journalists. His expression shifted as he quickly masked his irritation with a broad smile, raising his arms in a show of celebration.

“Of course, my dear daughter,” he declared, his voice smooth and practiced. “Always the supportive and caring kind. It’s clear where she got it from!” His tone was warm, but there was a calculated edge to it—every word carefully chosen to play to the crowd.

The surrounding crowd responded with polite applause; he gestured for his children to join him. “Regrettably, I will be unable to attend my daughter’s graduation, but before I depart, I’ll have a picture with my family!” He motioned to the journalists to ready their cameras, striking a pose with Papitas and Salchi on either side.

The cameras flashed rapidly, the light overwhelming Papitas, who instinctively raised her hands to shield her eyes, her sunglasses barely providing any relief from the blinding lights.

“I know my daughter will make the whole city proud, just as she’s always made me!” he continued, signaling the end of the photoshoot with a final, charismatic smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re running rather late.” He gave his children a brief, perfunctory hug before turning to board the train, never once making eye contact with either Salchi or Papitas.

“Chief Poyo, a question!”, Chief Poyo when will the waiting times for the trains decrease?”, “Chief Poyo, why do you allow the foreigners to stay here for so long?” Seemingly dozens of questions were fired at once as the journalist asked questions to the fleeing chief.

“Alright, that wasn’t too bad,” Salchi remarked, trying to sound relieved. “Hopefully, he won’t remember by the time he returns. Right, Papitas—?”

But when he turned, his sister was nowhere to be seen.

She was already making her way home, eager to clean up and change into something fresh. As she walked, her eyes drifted toward the harbor, her gaze lingering on the docked ships with a sharp, calculating look.

Saturday

The harbor was unusually quiet, almost eerie. Considering it was the last full day of the market, most of the foreign merchants and sailors were busy trying to sell off their remaining goods. Meanwhile, the harbor itself was practically deserted—just what Papitas had been hoping for all week.

She spent the entire morning wandering around the harbor, mentally mapping it out. Every detail mattered; she couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance. She had her eyes set on several ships, but Captain Dori’s vessel was still her preferred choice.

Of course, there was still one big problem: the insides of the ships. Papitas had never actually been inside one before. Sure, she’d read about them in books, but who knew if that info was still accurate? She briefly considered sneaking onto a ship right then and there but getting caught was out of the question. She’d have to wing it when the time came.

She sighed and sat down at the water's edge, dipping her feet into the cool sea. The rhythmic sound of the waves against the docks usually soothed her, but today it did little to ease her anxiety. Glancing up at the clock tower of the Crimson Magic Academy, she realized it was nearly noon. Her stomach growled, reminding her it was time for lunch.

Papitas made her way to Furita’s family restaurant. “One large bowl, please!” she called out with her usual grin, looking around for her friend. Furita was nowhere in sight, though, “Hey, where’s Furita?”

For years, the two had met up at the restaurant on weekends, usually hanging out after lunch. This was the first time Furita wasn’t waiting for her.

“Welcome, Papitas,” greeted Furita’s mom as she prepared the order. “Furita went out with Hornado and Kui. She said they’d head to your place, but I guess you weren’t home.”

Papitas blinked in surprise. “Hornado and Kui? Seriously?”

“You should’ve seen them!” Furita’s mom said with a laugh. “Furita invited them over yesterday after your brother dragged you off. They were laughing like crazy the whole time!” She suddenly sliced through some meat with a bit too much enthusiasm. “They even stayed the night here. I had to shoo them to bed at midnight because they were so noisy.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect them to get along so well,” Papitas said, twirling her chopsticks absentmindedly. “But hey, that’s great news. Furita’s usually just with me.”

“I know, right?” Furita’s mom chimed in, placing the steaming bowl in front of her. “I honestly thought she didn’t have any other friends besides you.”

As Furita’s mom chatted away, Papitas quietly finished her meal, nodding here and there while she kept talking, “The trio left early this morning. Furita mentioned going to your house, but who knows where they are now. You should go look for them.”

Papitas stood up, thanking for the food before heading out, “I’ll see you at dinner!”

The smile faded from her face as soon as she was outside, replaced by a more serious expression. As much as she wanted to hang out with Furita, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Taking the main road, she headed straight for the Crimson Magic Academy.

The academy’s pool, tucked away in the back, was deserted. Normally, it’d be bustling with the swimming club, but with classes over, the pool was all hers. Papitas had been coming here regularly after hours, training with single-minded determination. Today, she had the pool to herself for the entire afternoon.

She submerged herself completely, holding onto the edge of the pool as bubbles drifted lazily to the surface. After what seemed like an eternity, she resurfaced, gasping for air, her grip tight around an empty balloon in her right hand. She glanced at her wristwatch, safely tucked away on the poolside. “Twenty… minutes…” she panted, catching her breath before filling the balloon again and diving back in.

After her grueling training session, Papitas made her way to the market one last time. Stalls were beginning to pack up, and she spotted some earth golems hauling goods to the harbor. A list in hand, she quickly scanned to see if the foreigners were selling some things she needed, namely: a waterproof bag.

By the time the sun had set, Papitas was heading back to Furita’s family restaurant, her hair still damp from the pool. She announced her arrival with a cheerful “Hey, I’m back!” only to find Furita deep in conversation with Hornado and Kui. The three greeted her enthusiastically as she walked over.

“Papitas!” Furita called out, waving. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you all day!”

“I’ve been kinda busy,” Papitas replied, her voice a bit hoarse from the day’s exertion. “What have you guys been up to?”

“Oh man, you missed out,” Hornado said with a grin. “I had no idea shy little Furita could be so much fun!”

As Furita’s mom served dinner, the trio launched into a lively recount of the day’s events, laughing and teasing each other. Papitas, sitting at the edge of the group, listened quietly, occasionally chiming in. In the corner of her eye, she noticed how genuinely happy Furita looked, and a bittersweet feeling settled in her chest.

Finishing her meal well before the others, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh. “Ah… that hit the spot,” she said, standing up to leave. “Well, I’ll be heading out. See ya—!”

“Wait, Papitas!” Furita jumped up, “Can’t you stay the night? We’re having another sleepover.”

“Yeah, stay!” Kui chimed in with a grin. “I wanna see if half the stuff Furita said about you is true. She talked about you all day.” Hornado burst into laughter as Furita turned bright red.

“Of course, your friends are always welcome here,” Furita’s mom added, prompting Hornado and Kui to cheer. “But this time, lights out by 10!”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Papitas replied, bursting their bubble. “Salchi and I will do an inspection of the foreign ships tomorrow, on behalf of our Father. And you can’t rely on a NEET—if I don’t do it myself, it won’t get done. I need to get ready. I’ll try to come by for dinner tomorrow, though.”

As she made her exit, Furita followed her outside, making sure they were alone. “Papitas, wait!”

Papitas turned around to face her friend.

“My mom also invited Hornado and Kui to come with us to Patakon. You’re coming too, right?” Furita asked, her voice soft, eyes downcast.

Papitas’ heart ached as she looked at her friend, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped Furita in a warm hug, holding her close. Furita was too surprised to respond, her arms hanging limply by her sides.

“Furita, come on!” Kui’s voice echoed from inside as Papitas let go, giving Furita a small smile before silently walking away.

Papitas stayed up late that night, perched on her windowsill, staring out at the harbor, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.

Sunday

The busy sounds of the street outside echoed in Papitas' room. She’d been awake for a while but hadn’t moved, staring at the ceiling, just thinking, quietly thinking.

She glanced at her wristwatch. She needed to get to the harbor soon or risk being late. With a decisive leap, she quickly got up, dressed, and headed out.

The market would officially close by noon, but most stalls were already packed. The market had been a success once again, the satisfied looks on the faces of the foreign merchants as they shook hands with the locals were proof of that. A large queue of Earth Golems was diligently moving to and from the harbor, transporting the mostly empty crates and barrels back to the ships.

Before heading to the harbor, Papitas made a quick trip to what remained of the market. There were only a dozen stalls still operating from the fifty at its peak. Aside from the golems, most of the activity was focused on cleaning up, restoring the plaza to its usual state. Papitas had hoped to see Captain Dori, but his stall was already gone. With nothing else to do there, she made her way to the harbor, carrying a large file organizer.

Her job was straightforward: ensure that all the foreigners who arrived nearly a week ago were still accounted for. The coast guard would take care of the rest tomorrow, checking that the ships weren’t taking anything, or anyone, they weren’t supposed to take with them.

The harbor was bustling, a stark contrast to the previous day. The activity was comparable only to the day the ships first arrived, with sailors busily loading the empty crates back onto the ships. Papitas sat by one of the docks, waiting—or rather hoping—that Salchi would show up. She hadn’t seen him all morning.

As the day progressed, Papitas made her way from boat to boat, checking the files she held against the registries of each sailor. It was a tedious task, made even more so by the vast difference in the size of the ships. Some boats had only a handful of crew members, while the larger ships were practically floating villages, with nearly a hundred sailors on board.

Well past noon, after a quick lunch in a nearby pub, Papitas finally reached Captain Dori’s ship.

“Good afternoon, Miss Papitas,” the captain greeted her respectfully, his demeanor towards her having changed since their talk on Thursday night. “Is Mr. Salchi not with you? Don’t tell me you’re doing the registry all on your own.”

“Ugh…” Papitas replied with a loud groan. Her brain felt fried from the monotonous work, and the intense heat didn’t help. Summer was clearly on the way. She’d gladly trade doing this for a five-hour lesson with Miss Morocho. “Remember what I told you when we met? You can’t trust wizards. If there isn’t a way to use magic and make things easier, they’re nowhere to be found. And my brother is not just a wizard; he’s a NEET!” Steam practically flowed out of her mouth as she spoke.

“Oh! Ah, well. We won’t waste your time. I’ve had my men line up on the deck. Please, come aboard,” the captain said, motioning for her to follow him onto the ship. The crew was lined up alphabetically across the deck, making Papitas’ job easier.

The captain and Papitas made small talk as she finished up and prepared to leave the ship. She took the opportunity to get a good look at the deck and all its entrances. As they reached the edge of the deck, she suddenly asked, “I take it you haven’t changed your mind?”

The captain’s previously calm demeanor turned serious. “No, lass, and I hope you won’t insist,” he said firmly.

“Right. Oh, by the way, where are you headed?” she asked, her tone still playful.

“We should be arriving in Port Altria by Wednesday noon. It’s a town northwest of here, right by the mouth of the Gulf of Elroad,” the captain answered nonchalantly.

“Well then,” Papitas said, turning to face him and dropping her sunglasses to give him a playful wink. “Have a safe trip!” She waved goodbye and walked off.

“Wait, lass! We’re leaving tomorrow morning!” The captain called after her, but Papitas didn’t look back.

Her duty continued into the night. After dinner at the same pub, she made her way back to the harbor to finish checking the last few boats. “I wanted to eat that ramen one more time…” she murmured to herself, when she suddenly heard a voice behind her that made her blood boil.

“Hey, Papitas! How’s the work going? You done, yeEEEEEE—!” Salchi called out cheerfully, but as soon as he got close, Papitas forcefully smacked him on the head with the file container. The wooden dock beneath him gave way, plunging him into the water.

“Hey, what gives—!” he protested after surfacing, just in time to catch the file container with his face.

“You finish. I’m going home,” she said dryly, her tone full of anger, and walked off.

Papitas stopped by the bakery on her way home and took a few bites of the sweets she bought, trying to calm herself down. As she reached her front door, she took a deep breath, trying to relax as much as possible before going in. “I’m home…” she said softly, stepping into the dark house and taking off her shoes.

Lighting a candle by her mother’s altar, Papitas slowly sat before it. “Good night, Mom,” she said, taking the remaining sweets out of her bag and placing them on the altar. She silently prayed for a long time, her expression steady and focused, until she heard someone else enter the house.

“Papitas?” Salchi called out. He hadn’t paid respects in years, but he remained silent until Papitas released her hands and lifted her head, “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Without turning to face him, Papitas looked at her mother’s photograph for a moment before replying, “Yeah, I am.” She then stood up quietly and headed to her room.

As she reached the top of the stairs, Salchi called out again, “Hey, what time is the ceremony?”

“I have to be at the academy by 8,” she replied dryly, looking down at him.

“I’m going drinking now; you should get some sleep. The ships will start leaving around 7. You can come to say your goodbyes if you want, but don’t be late. I won’t miss the ceremony,” he said, his voice filled with affection.

“Sure,” Papitas replied with a reassuring smile before heading into her room and closing the door.

Later

The city had fallen into a hushed silence, except for the occasional sound of bars closing for the night. Minmin was quiet.

Papitas sat on the roof of her home, having quietly slipped out through her window. She overlooked the city, nearly all the lights in the houses were out, with only the streetlights illuminating the empty streets. She glanced in the direction of Furita’s family restaurant, obscured by the many buildings in between, before taking a final look at her bag. Her adventurer’s card, some spare underwear, dried food, water, and the money Captain Dori had refused to take—all in order. She closed the bag and slung it over her shoulder, just as the clock tower struck 2 a.m.

“Alright then,” she whispered, standing up and getting a good look at the harbor. She leaped to the house in front of hers and began her journey, moving as directly as possible to her destination

Monday, the next morning.

Salchi stood at the harbor early in the morning, though whether he woke up early or just slept there after drinking all night was anyone's guess. Either way, the chief’s son was present to see off the foreign ships depart.

By 7 a.m., most of the smaller vessels had already set sail, becoming tiny dots on the horizon as they made way for the larger ships, including Captain Dori’s. Only a few massive ships remained in the harbor.

“Well, Captain,” Salchi began with a smirk, “I hope to see you again in a few months,” he leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “And don’t forget about that very special delivery. My library is in dire need of new content.”

“Of course not, lad,” replied the captain with a matching smirk, pulling out a weathered ledger. “I’ve noted your requests here. You have my word; we’ll bring the highest quality material next time.”

Their exchange was cut short by a coast guard officer who approached briskly. “All in order. You’re cleared for departure,” he said before moving on to the next ship.

“Well, lad, this is goodbye for now,” the captain said, shaking Salchi’s hand. “A shame your lovely sister couldn’t be here.”

“Her graduation is today. I guess she’s nervous or something. I knocked on her door, but got no response,” Salchi replied, scratching the back of his head.

The captain boarded his ship, and a few minutes later, with the powerful sound of its steam engines, the boat left the harbor. Salchi waited until the ships on the horizon seemed like toys, content to see all the ships leave. After all, he had time to waste before the ceremony.

About half an hour later, Furita was getting ready herself. Hornado and Kui had already left to fetch their uniforms. The three girls had slept little, spending most of the night whispering excitedly.

As she packed some gifts for her classmates and teachers into her bag, something unusual caught her eye—a large package she didn’t recognize. Curiosity piqued, she opened it and found a worn, battered book inside. The cover was so damaged that the title was illegible. She flipped it open and read the first page: Basics of Martial Arts.

Furita’s breath caught in her throat. This was Papitas’ treasured book, the one she’d always guarded so fiercely. The first page bore a dedication, but what really grabbed Furita’s attention was a hastily scribbled folded note in Papitas’ terrible handwriting

[Please take good care of it]

Her hands trembled as she held the book, her mind reeling. How long she stood there, she couldn’t say, until her mother’s hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality.

“What are you doing? You need to get going!” her mother scolded before noticing Furita’s tear-streaked face. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?”

“Papitas!” Salchi banged furiously on his sister’s door with a mix of irritation and concern. “Hey, we’re running late, come on!”

After a frustrated sigh, he decided to force the door open, fully expecting to find her still asleep. Maybe she hadn’t slept well the night before, too nervous about the graduation, but the sight that greeted him left him speechless.

Papitas’ uniform lay neatly folded on her bed, but the bed itself was empty. “What the hell?” he muttered under his breath, noticing a few envelopes on her desk. The one on top had his name scrawled across it.

The room was eerily tidy, a stark contrast to Papitas’ usual messiness. The shelves were neatly arranged, except for one glaring absence.

By 9 a.m., the Crimson Magic Academy was packed with the families of soon-to-be Archwizards. The air buzzed with excitement as the ceremony was about to begin.

The graduates, dressed in their caps and gowns, fidgeted nervously as Miss Morocho gave them last-minute instructions. “—remember, after unlocking Advanced Magic, do your signature introduction, and don’t forget to refer to yourselves as Archwizards,” she said, fussing over their attires to ensure everything was perfect.

Furita stood among her classmates, clutching her bag tightly. Hornado and Kui whispered among themselves nearby.

“Furita! Furita!” Kui called out, finally grabbing her attention.

“Huh? What?” Furita replied, her voice distant.

“Tonight’s the big night, right? We’re leaving for Patakon?” Kui asked. “How are we getting there? I thought trains didn’t run that late.”

“We’ll use Teleport,” Furita answered absentmindedly. “My mom has the location saved.”

Hornado and Kui exchanged concerned looks. Furita had been acting strangely all morning, and they suspected it had something to do with the absent Papitas. Hornado motioned for Kui to let it go, thinking they might have had a fight. Before she could press further, Miss Morocho signaled for everyone to line up.

The headmaster’s speech was wrapping up as the graduates were called one by one. Each new Archwizard proudly proclaimed their new class as the auditorium erupted in cheers.

“I am Marakuya!” she declared, striking a dramatic pose. “The most beautiful girl in Minmin and its newest Archwizard! There are some who will regret crossing me!” She pointed at the ceiling, ready to unleash a spell. “Cursed light—!”

“Absolutely no magic here, Marakuya!” Miss Morocho’s voice cut through the air, her hand clamping down on Marakuya’s shoulder. The new Archwizard turned pale and quickly apologized.

After the ceremony, the sky above the academy was alive with magic as the new Archwizards tested their powers. Lightning bolts, ice shards, fireballs, and water streams shot into the air, exploding in a dazzling display of color and sound.

“Light of Saber!” Hornado shouted, sending a beam of light skyward, where it burst in a spectacular flash. “Hahaha! This is awesome!”

“Cursed lightning!” A black lightning bolt followed, cracking loudly as it exploded. “Where is she?” Marakuya demanded, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Where is that muscle-bound fool? Was she too scared to show up for her own graduation? Oh, right—this is for Archwizards only.”

Furita, still clutching her bag, remained silent.

“Come on, spill it! Where’s that dumb brute?” Marakuya snarled, pointing her wand at Furita.

“How about you shut up, Marakuya?” Kui snapped, stepping forward with a glare.

“How dare you speak to me like that? Have some respect; I’m an Archwizard!” Marakuya snapped.

“We’re all Archwizards, dumbass! And if you want a fight, I’ll be happy to give you one!” Hornado added, gripping her staff.

While they were distracted, Furita quietly slipped away toward the academy’s entrance. There, she saw Salchi leaning against the metallic door, smoking a cigarette and staring at the sky.

“Did she...?” she murmured, her eyes downcast as she grabbed Salchi’s sleeve.

“Seems so,” he replied dryly, not turning to face her. A heavy silence hung between them before he handed her a stack of letters, the top one addressed to Furita. “Please hand these out,” he said before wordlessly walking away.

Far out at sea, in the lower decks of a ship, a girl clung desperately to the railing, trying to keep her breakfast from making a reappearance. The relentless motion of the waves was doing a number on her.

The Crimson Magic Islands were no longer visible on the horizon.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: A Crimson Fist! - Part 2

Part 1

Port Altria welcomed ships arriving from all over the Crimson Magic Islands, its vast harbor easily dwarfing the entire city of Minmin. This bustling port was one of the Kingdom of Belzerg's major seaways, nestled along the small coastal region between the Kingdom of Elroad and the Analess Republic. As the primary entry point for goods and travelers from across the eastern ocean, Port Altria boasted a harbor that stretched far and wide, with towering cranes and endless rows of docked ships. A colossal statue of the goddess Eris stood at the harbor’s entrance, a landmark for all arriving ships.

Exhausted sailors hurried off their boats, eager to reunite with their families after a week away or simply craving a drink. The pubs surrounding the harbor were packed, their lively atmospheres spilling out into the streets, while merchants, their pockets jingling with earnings, made their way to the nearby banks escorted by rugged adventurers and greedy royal officials eager to collect taxes.

From one of the larger ships that had just docked, a loud crash reverberated across the docks as a piece of its hull flew into the sea. Moments later, an exhausted girl dropped herself into the water below. It was Papitas, having punched her way out with such force that part of the ship gave way. After a brief moment of struggling in the water, she hauled herself onto the docks, dripping wet and panting heavily, clutching her bag.

As she caught her breath, Papitas took in the sight before her. The sun bathed the city in a golden light, casting long shadows across the streets. The view was unlike anything she had ever seen in Minmin, and for a moment, she was completely at a loss for words. But then, with a surge of energy, she sprang to her feet and shouted, "YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" Her triumphant scream echoed across the harbor, drawing curious glances from the bustling crowd.

Taking a deep breath, she savored the unfamiliar yet exhilarating taste of the city's air. It felt so different from what she was used to, so full of possibilities. Laughing like a madwoman, she sprinted toward the city, her heart racing with excitement.

Nearby, Captain Dori was arguing with a dock worker. Having left the unloading of his ship to his underlings, he was tired and hungry, eager to get home and enjoy a meal with his wife. But the man in front of him insisted he stay until the ship was fully unloaded.

"Listen, lad, there are perfectly capable people handling the boat," Captain Dori said, his patience wearing thin. "I've been doing this job since before you were a glint in your father's eye. Now, let me leave—" His words trailed off as he noticed someone behind the worker.

There, amidst the crowd, stood Papitas, a triumphant smile on her face. She lowered her sunglasses and gave the captain a playful wink before disappearing into the throng of people.

The captain pushed the dock worker aside, suddenly pale as if he'd seen a ghost. He hurried after her but couldn't find her in the sea of faces.

Papitas continued to wander through the unfamiliar city, her eyes wide with wonder. Everything was so different from Minmin—the architecture, the people, the fashion—it was like stepping onto another planet. The further she got from the harbor, the quieter the buzz of the city became, yet the vibrant colors of the buildings and the lively atmosphere kept her enthralled.

Port Altria was a city that mixed old-world charm with the energy of modern life. Cobblestone streets wound through neighborhoods filled with ornate buildings that had stood for centuries, their facades adorned with intricate carvings and ironwork. Tall, narrow tenements sat side by side with grand, sprawling mansions, creating a tapestry of architectural styles that told the story of the city's long history. Signs in front of shops and restaurants were a kaleidoscope of unknown words, and even some unknown symbols.

A strong growl from her stomach reminded her of how hungry she was. She had run out of food a day ago, the dry rations she had left with tasted awful anyway. On the little sleep she got the night before she dreamed of eating a huge bowl of ramen, her mouth watering at the thought.

While wandering through the streets, she stumbled upon an odd-looking restaurant. "Ham-bur-ger?" she read aloud, struggling with the unfamiliar word. The sign outside advertised a meal for 1,000 Eris, a price so low it made her suspicious. In Minmin, the cheapest plate at a restaurant cost no less than 50,000 Eris.

"Hey, little lady!" The restaurant clerk called out, noticing her hesitation. "Come on in! You won't find anything like this where you're from, right? Take your pick!"

"Don't you have anything with duxion meat?" she asked, scanning the menu with a hint of hope.

"Duxion?!" The clerk was taken aback. "Heavens no! Maybe in the noble district you'll find that, but it's way too expensive for me, hahahaha!" He chuckled before pointing to a burger on the menu. "Try this one; it's perfect for your first burger. The meat’s from giant frogs—it's a little tough, but very filling."

"One of those then!" Her hunger got the better of her, and she ordered without much thought.

"A double frog burger coming right up!" the clerk said, turning to face the grill. "Please take a seat; it'll be ready in no time."

Papitas sat at a table facing the street, still captivated by the city outside. A hamburger, she thought, the word sounding so strange to her. Before she knew it, a plate with a towering burger was placed in front of her.

"Here you go, I hope you like it," the clerk said, setting the burger down.

Papitas stared at it, perplexed. "How do I eat this?" she asked, looking around for utensils. "You didn’t give me chopsticks or anything."

"Chopsticks?" The man was equally puzzled. "Just where are you from, little lady?" He pointed to a young girl at another table. "See that? Just grab it by the sides and take a bite."

Papitas imitated the girl, taking a huge bite out of the burger. "Hmm!? Thish ish amazhing!" she mumbled through a mouthful, quickly devouring the entire burger.

"That hungry, huh?" the clerk chuckled, amused by her appetite.

"And still am! Give me two more!" Papitas demanded, her face smeared with sauce but beaming with satisfaction.

Later, after having eaten no fewer than ten burgers, a high stack of plates and glasses in the table, Papitas finally asked, "How much do I owe you?"

The clerk, somewhat disturbed by how much this petite girl had eaten, replied, "I've never seen anyone your size eat so much. That'll be 15,000 Eris for all the burgers and the neroid drinks."

Papitas casually opened her bag and pulled out a large wad of cash, causing the man's eyes to nearly pop out of his head. "I only have 10,000 Eris bills. Keep the change," she said, handing him the money.

"Are you crazy, girl? Put that money away!" he hissed, clearly concerned. "I don't know where you got that, but you'd better keep it hidden. This town isn't as safe as it used to be."

Papitas looked at him curiously, "A-alright," she said, tucking the money back into her bag. "Thanks for the food!" With that, she sprinted back into the city, the thrill of exploring this new world still coursing through her veins.

Papitas spent hours wandering the city, marveling at the endless streets and towering buildings. She’d expected to reach the outskirts eventually, but the city seemed to stretch on forever, each corner revealing new alleyways and bustling markets. By the time she realized she was lost, the harbor was a distant memory.

Unbeknownst to her, she wandered into a shady neighborhood. Several unsavory figures noticed the lone girl making her way through the area, and more than a few had begun to quietly follow her.

As she tried to find her way back to a main road, she turned into a narrow alley, only to be met by a figure blocking her path. Two more appeared behind her, cutting off any escape.

"The bag. Hand it over," the person in front demanded.

"No," Papitas replied dryly, shifting into a fighting stance. She'd read about situations like this before—being ambushed by thieves. But instead of fear, she felt a rush of excitement. Finally, she could use martial arts without holding back.

"Well, we wanted to make this easy for you," the masked leader sneered, raising a hand that began to glow. "Steal!"

The sudden flash of light caught Papitas off guard, her sunglasses doing little to shield her eyes. When the light faded, she blinked, trying to refocus. The leader now held a small piece of white cloth in his hand.

"Huh? What is this?" He unfurled the cloth, revealing it to be a pair of girl's panties. "W-what the hell!"

Papitas' face turned beet red as she frantically checked her bag. "Y-You are worse than mere thieves! Perverts! Molesters!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the alley.

"W-wait, this is a misunderstanding! I'm not a pervert, I just wanted to steal your money!" the man stammered, clearly panicking.

But Papitas was done talking. She charged at him with fire in her eyes, but just as she was about to land a blow, she tripped, her momentum sending her flying to the leader, the two crashing with unexpected force.

"What are you two idiots doing?" the leader groaned from the ground. "Get her! Get the bag!"

The thugs exchanged nervous glances, but quickly they steeled themselves and charged at Papitas. She quickly regained her footing, dusted off her clothes, and braced herself.

The first thug swung at her, but Papitas was faster. “Too slow!” she taunted, grinning and sidestepped his punch with a swift, almost effortless movement, and immediately countered with a strike of her own. But her fist stopped an inch from the thug’s nose. He flinched, but Papitas cursed under her breath. The timing was off.

She had put too much power into the punch, and now she was off balance. The thug didn’t waste any time, charging her again. Papitas ducked, spinning around to deliver a kick. But just as her foot was about to hit its target, the thug sidestepped, and her kick smashed into the wall instead, leaving a deep crack.

“Ugh, hold still!” she bounced on her feet, trying to find her rhythm, but her timing was all over the place. Every time she threw a punch or a kick, the thugs dodged, or she overshot, her strikes slamming into the pavement or buildings around them. Each impact was powerful enough to send debris flying, but none of it was hitting where it mattered.

A thug stumbled back, eyes wide with fear. The power behind her attack was undeniable—even though she hadn’t hit him, the air pressure alone had ruffled his clothes. He hesitated, clearly shaken, but the fear of his boss kept him from running.

Papitas took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline rushing through her veins. Her feet moved instinctively, dodging and weaving as the other thug tried to close in on her. But every time she threw a punch or kick, something went wrong—she’d overestimate the distance, her footwork would slip, or her body would move faster than she expected.

She spun on her heel, launching a roundhouse kick, but the thug ducked just in time, her leg sailing over his head and crashing into the brick wall behind him. The impact left a large crack, and the thug stared at the damage with a mix of awe and terror.

“Stop moving, dammit!” Papitas growled, launching another series of punches. But no matter how hard she tried, her strikes either whiffed past their targets or failed to reach them to begin with.

“B-Boss, we gotta get outta here! This girl’s a freakin’ monster!” one of the thugs pleaded, ducking another wild swing.

“Stay still, cowards!” Papitas yelled, frustration boiling over as she punched in the air. The walls behind the thug were now riddled with cracks and dents, each one a missed opportunity.

The leader, still holding the piece of underwear he’d accidentally stolen, grit his teeth. “She’s strong, but she can’t hit for shit! Just grab the bag and let’s go!”

But his words only spurred Papitas on, her movements growing more frantic as she tried to land even one clean hit. She could feel her strength surging through her muscles, but it was like trying to control a runaway cart—every move was either too fast, too slow, or just plain off-target.

"Steal!" the leader shouted again. Another flash of light filled the alley.

Papitas clung tightly to her bag. When the light cleared, one thug was desperately trying to pry it from her hands, but she wouldn't budge. Meanwhile, the leader stood there, holding yet another piece of her underwear.

"Is this all you have in that bag—!?" he began, but his voice was cut off by another's.

"What’s all this noise?" A voice echoed through the alley, polite yet ominous, sending chills down everyone's spine.

Papitas had never felt such fear before—not even the worst of the Gate of Hell had terrified her so much.

From the shadows, a man dressed in a butler's outfit emerged, a mask covering most of his face, one side black, the other white, the number II right in the middle. He held a shopping bag in one hand and wore a wide grin.

"I believe I told you ruffians never to show up here again," he said, his tone mocking.

"Damn, it’s the old man again," the leader muttered through gritted teeth. "Let’s get out of here!" He signaled his cohorts, and the trio bolted.

"Where do you think you’re going? Give me back my panties!" Papitas tried to chase after them, but the masked man quickly grabbed her by the head.

"Let go of me!" she protested, struggling against his surprisingly gentle yet immovable grip.

"It’ll be of no use, young girl with no more clean undergarments," the man said with a chuckle, his grin widening. "The alleys here are like a maze. You won’t find them."

"Grr… thanks for saving me, I guess. But they still took my underwear..." Papitas trailed off as the man leaned closer, his curiosity evident despite the mask.

"My, my," he mused, bringing his mask close enough to feel like he was peering into her soul. "I haven't seen one like you in a very, very long time."

"E-Excuse me, could you back off a bit?" Papitas asked, unnerved. She’d usually respond with force, but something told her it wouldn’t work against this man.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, pulling back. "That’s interesting. Very interesting indeed. Fuahahahahaha!" He laughed, the sound both eerie and amused. "The gears of destiny work in mysterious ways. To think that the only non-wiard from a clan of wizards would be the one!"

"Wha...?" Papitas was utterly confused.

"You have the most intriguing future, young girl. No doubt about it. My all-seeing eye is never wrong, fuahahahaha!"

"Uh, okay?" Papitas replied, edging away. "All right then, bye!" She turned, ready to sprint off.

"You’ve been looking for the adventurer’s guild, have you not?" the man asked, his tone still casual, “There are none in this town, you are wasting your time.”

Papitas froze. "How did you—?"

"You were hoping to save time here but are truly after Axel, once known as home of rookie adventurers," he continued, putting a hand on the mask. "A caravan will be departing for Axel in a few minutes, but it’ll take you over an hour to get from here to the caravan station," he smiled, his gaze shifting to her bag.

"Really? I better get going—" she started to dash off, then stopped. "Uh, which way is it?"

"Not even a lizard runner could make it in time," the man said with a mock sigh. "However, I have something that may help." He reached into his coat and pulled out a metallic box with a bright red button on top. "This is a magic item, a special teleportation device. Sadly, it won’t take you to Axel, it has a rather limited range, but it will get you to the caravan station in the blink of an eye." He waved the device enticingly.

"That’s perfect, thanks!" Papitas reached for it, but the man pulled it out of her reach.

"I’d love to help you for free," he said, his grin never fading. "But I’m a businessman first and foremost, there's a certain clumsy shop owner who won’t eat if I don’t make money. Normally, this item would sell for twenty million Eris, but for this special occasion, I’m willing to let it go for just nine… and a half million."

"Aw, that’s nearly all my money," Papitas sighed. "No thanks, I can go tomorrow. I’ll just find a place to sleep." She turned to leave but was stopped again.

"I most certainly doubt you’ll find a free room anywhere in this town, not with the multitude of sailors and merchants that just arrived. Most will rest for the day before departing for their hometowns tomorrow. Leaving in a caravan, or even by train, will be most difficult, I would imagine," the man said, his voice so calm it was almost convincing.

Papitas hesitated, glancing at the darkening sky. The sun was setting, she was running out of time.

"But you won’t be out of money, you know?" the man continued. "That adventurer’s card you have; it can be used at any bank." His smile grew even more unsettling.

"Oh yeah!" Papitas slapped her forehead. How could she forget? The bank teller told her she could withdraw up to five million Eris per day. Spending nine million now wouldn’t be a problem, "All right," she said, digging into her bag. "Here you go!"

"Pleasure doing business with you, fuahahahaha!" the man cackled, counting the money. "Better make use of it quickly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must visit a certain charred store owner." He turned and walked away.

Papitas felt uneasy about the whole encounter, but there was no time to dwell on it. She quickly pressed the button, and her vision was filled with light.

“Ten minutes, the caravan leaves in ten minutes!”

Papitas could hear voices echoing around her, along with the distinct clatter of horses trotting on stone roads. By the time her vision cleared, she found herself standing in front of some kind of booth. The sun hadn’t moved, confirming it—she’d definitely teleported.

"Alright!" she cheered, grinning ear to ear. "This thing is great—what the—!?" She glanced down at the magic item in her hand just in time to see it disintegrate into pieces. "Arrgh, that guy totally conned me!"

She clenched her fists, ready to storm back into the city and give that scammer a piece of her mind. But just as she turned, an announcer's voice from the booth caught her attention, “Only a handful of seats available!”

Frustration battled with defeat as Papitas huffed and approached the booth. “How much for a ticket to Axel?” she asked, the anger in her voice barely contained.

“That’d be 30,000 Eris for third-class seats, 80,000 for first class,” the woman in the booth replied without missing a beat.

Papitas didn't hesitate. “Give me a first-class seat,” she said, digging into her bag and slapping down a wad of cash. As she handed over the money, she noticed her bag looked much thinner than it had when she first arrived—missing not only plenty of cash but also plenty of underwear.

“Thanks. Head to the second carriage,” the booth lady instructed, handing her the ticket. “You should be arriving in Axel in time for breakfast tomorrow morning. Have a nice trip.”

Papitas passed through the caravan, counting at least twenty carriages, each topped with stacks of goods and supplies. By the time she reached her designated carriage, she found herself in a well-cushioned seat, the last to arrive and sharing the space with a few wealthy-looking passengers.

Less than ten minutes later, the caravan set into motion. Papitas leaned back in her seat, the gentle sway of the carriage lulling her into a relaxed state. Finally, she was on her way to Axel, the city she had read so much about.

As she gazed up at the moon through the carriage window, her mind wandered to thoughts of the adventures that awaited her. Before long, the rhythm of the road and her own excitement had carried her off to sleep, her dreams filled with images of the new challenges and wonders she’d soon face.

Part 2

The sudden rocking of the carriage woke Papitas as the morning light seeped through the window. She yawned heavily and stretched her sore muscles as much as she could. It had been days since she slept on a bed, and her body was really feeling it.

She turned around and noticed a little girl staring at her intently. "Mom, the girl who was drooling all morning just woke up!" the girl exclaimed, calling out to her mother.

She quickly moved the girl away. "Don't look at her," she said.

Papitas wiped the corner of her mouth and looked away in embarrassment, hoping nobody else noticed.

The walls surrounding Axel finally came into view through the window, and Papitas could barely contain her excitement. She tapped her feet, itching to bolt out of the carriage and sprint straight to the gates.

As they got closer, she spotted a sign: [Welcome to Axel]

She’d read that, long ago, this town was where most rookie adventurers got their start. Nowadays, it’s mostly known as the place where the legendary party had lived for a long time. Are there statues of them? I'd like to see what the clanswoman from that party looked like she thought.

Once the carriage stopped, Papitas finally gave her body a good stretch after deboarding, feeling the stiffness from the ride ease a bit. The rest of the passengers scattered in different directions, but she made her way over to one of the carriage drivers. "Excuse me, where's the adventurer's guild?" she asked.

"Why, that's in the heart of the city," a man with a large mustache answered. "It'll take you all day to walk there. Go to the trolley station over there and take one that heads to the Noble District. The guild’s just a few blocks away. Should take you about an hour or so to get there."

Trolley? Papitas wondered as she walked away, trying to figure out what that was until she spotted a streetcar in the distance. Oh, a wain. Guess people here call them trolleys. Haha, what a weird name.

After eating breakfast at a nearby restaurant, she finally made her way to the wain station, mentally planning her day. Alright, things should be simple. First, change my class to Martial Artist at the guild. Then, unlock as many skills as I can and show them off.

“Good morning,” a faint voice called out, but Papitas was too focused to notice.

Second, after wowing everyone with my abilities, several adventurer parties will beg me to join them. I’ll have to weed out the weaklings.

“Hello?” the voice continued.

Third, beat up some monsters with my new skills.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” the voice grew louder.

Fourth, go to the bank and get another withdrawal. I wonder if five million will be enough to buy a house here? Everything’s so cheap anyway. That breakfast was only 500 Eris.

“HEEEEEY!” The loud yell finally snapped Papitas out of her thoughts.

“What!? What do you want!?” she shouted back, finally taking a good look at the person who so rudely interrupted her thoughts.

It was girl, not much older than her, dressed in some kind of nun outfit, deep blue in color, adorned with gold and white.

“Ahem, you’re a foreigner, aren’t you?” said the nun, pretending she hadn’t just shaken Papitas, “I can tell by your outfit. You may not be familiar with this, but all foreigners must sign a waiver when entering the city. Here,” she handed Papitas a paper and a pen.

Papitas had never heard of such a rule, but wanting to get on with her day, she grabbed the paper and was about to sign it when another loud voice interrupted.

“Stop right there!” Another nun suddenly appeared, but her outfit was mainly white, adorned with purple and gold.

The blue nun immediately clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Have you Axis Cultists no shame!?” The white nun approached, stomping her feet, then forcefully grabbed the paper from Papitas' hand. “This is an Axis Church recruitment form! You almost fell for this witch’s scheme!”

The blue nun spat on the ground. “Who are you calling a witch, you padded goddess worshipper! I am doing the work of Lady Aqua, the more followers she has, the safer this world becomes!” She lifted her hands in prayer.

“Come, my child,” the white nun grabbed Papitas' hand, who was now utterly confused by this exchange, “People in whatever godless lands you come from must not know about the blessings of Lady Eris.” She tried to pull Papitas away, she girl didn’t budge an inch.

“Ha! See that? This foreigner has clearly seen the light of Lady Aqua,” the blue nun snickered. “Now, please sign this, and we’ll be on our way.” She handed Papitas another paper.

However, the white nun immediately snatched the paper and tore it to shreds right in front of the blue nun’s face.

“So, that’s how you want it, Eris loser?” the blue nun said, fire in her eyes.

“Bring it—!” the white nun replied, just as a punch was thrown to her face.

As much as Papitas wanted to see the nuns duke it out, this was the perfect opportunity to slip away. Luckily, they were still fighting by the time she boarded the wain. She managed to catch a glimpse of the police arriving to break up the brawl as the wain made its way to downtown Axel.

Papitas gazed out of the wain’s window as it clattered along the tracks, taking in the cityscape that unfolded before her. Axel was a far cry from Port Altria. Every few blocks brought a new architectural style, each neighborhood telling a different story. Some areas had quaint, older homes with thatched roofs and cobblestone streets, hinting at the city’s humble beginnings before the Demon King’s defeat. Others boasted modern, grand structures with intricate stonework, tall spires, and wide avenues—evidence of the city’s rapid expansion since those days.

The wain passed through a bustling commercial district, where small shops with colorful awnings lined the streets. Papitas spotted a bakery with a window full of fresh pastries, the sweet scent wafting through the air. Next door, an old apothecary displayed herbs and potions in glass jars. In another block, she noticed a blacksmith hammering away at a sword, his face glistening with sweat. This part of Axel had a lively, working-class vibe, with people chatting animatedly and children running about.

As the journey continued, the buildings grew taller and more opulent. The cobblestone streets gave way to smooth, paved roads, and the simple shop signs were replaced with grandiose banners and elegant storefronts. Wealthier citizens strolled along the sidewalks, dressed in fine clothes adorned with gold and jewels. High-end boutiques displayed the latest fashion, and gourmet restaurants with fancy menus catered to those with deep pockets. There were jewelry stores glittering with precious stones, and even a few art galleries showcasing paintings and sculptures.

Nearly an hour later, the houses were noticeably larger, each one more magnificent than the last. The people walking the streets here exuded an air of aristocracy, their noses slightly upturned as they passed by. Papitas saw a blonde woman in a long, flowing gown that sparkled in the sunlight, her fingers weighed down by several rings. A man in a tailored suit walked briskly, a cane in one hand and a top hat perched on his head. The streets were lined with horse-drawn carriages, some of which were so luxurious they looked fit for royalty.

The wain driver’s voice broke through her thoughts as they announced the stop. “Noble District, next stop!” Papitas jumped off with a spring in her step, eager to continue her adventure. But as she landed on the ground, her excitement turned to confusion as she looked around at the maze of carriages and wains moving in every direction.

“A few blocks from the station, huh? But in which direction?” she muttered, cursing the carriage driver for being so vague.

Papitas tried asking for directions, but the noble residents of Axel merely glanced at her with disdain before quickly looking away, pretending she didn’t exist. After all, she hadn’t bathed in days, and her clothes were worn and dirty from her journey. To them, she appeared as nothing more than a homeless urchin.

She approached a well-dressed man with a monocle and a pocket watch. “Excuse me, can you—”

But the man turned on his heel and walked away without so much as a word, his nose in the air. A finely dressed woman, wearing a feathered hat and pearls, also gave her a wide berth, pulling her child closer as they passed.

Frustrated, Papitas decided to wander around. “I’ll find it eventually,” she grumbled.

She soon found herself on an uphill street lined with grandiose mansions, each one more extravagant than the last. The names of the noble families were engraved on large plaques outside each gate, but the foreign names only amused her.

“Lilac? Alexey? What kind of names are these?” she chuckled, her laughter echoing through the quiet street.

Finally, she reached the largest mansion on the block and stopped in front of the family plaque. She squinted at the name before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “Pffffft! Dustiness! Hahahahaha!” Tears streamed down her face as she doubled over, clutching her sides.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted her fit of laughter. Papitas wiped her eyes and turned around to see a female guard standing next to her, looking less than amused, “If I may ask, what are you doing here?” the guard said, her tone polite but firm.

“You may,“ Papitas smirked, still trying to suppress her laughter. “I’m looking for the adventurer’s guild and got lost. Do you think the Dustiness’ here might know about it? Hahahaha!” She pointed at the family plaque, bursting into laughter once more.

The guard raised an eyebrow but maintained her composure. “You’re going the wrong way, I’ll draw you a map.” She pulled out a small notebook and quickly sketched a crude map, handing it to Papitas. “You’re lucky no one from the great Dustiness house was here to hear your mockery. I advise you to leave before any of them show up. And please, take a bath… as soon as possible.”

Papitas nodded, still grinning as she watched the guard walk past her. “Hehe, Dustiness,” she muttered under her breath before following the map toward the guild.

The adventurer’s guild stood out from the more modern buildings surrounding it, likely one of the oldest structures in Axel. Inside, it was bustling with life. Adventurers filled the room, the atmosphere a lively mix of camaraderie and competition. The place doubled as a bar and restaurant, with groups of adventurers eating hearty meals or clinking their mugs together in celebration.

Men and women crowded around tables, discussing future quests or negotiating terms for new party members. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat mixed with beer. The quest board at the far end of the room was covered in requests, a few adventurers stood there, examining the available jobs.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a powerful kick, drawing everyone’s attention. A girl wearing sunglasses stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the bright sunlight streaming in behind her. The guild fell silent, all eyes on her, waiting to see what she would do. But as the minutes ticked by and she remained still, the initial tension fizzled out, and everyone returned to their business.

Papitas joined the queue at the receptionist’s desk, waiting her turn behind a few adventurers who were claiming their rewards after completing successful quests. She could barely contain her excitement as she envisioned herself in their place soon enough.

“Hey there, what can I do for you?” the receptionist greeted Papitas with a friendly smile when her turn finally came.

“I want to change classes,” Papitas handed over her adventurer’s card. “Martial Artist, please!” Her heart raced with anticipation.

“Alright then, let me take a look.” The receptionist inspected the card, her expression shifting to one of mild confusion. “Miss… Papitas?” She looked up at Papitas with a puzzled expression. “Seems like someone tampered with your card…”

“What? What do you mean?” Papitas leaned in, slightly annoyed. “Let me see,” she took the card back, scanning it quickly. “No, all in order.”

“Your name is Papitas?” the receptionist asked, sounding incredulous.

“You got any problems with my name?” Papitas shot back, stepping closer and causing the receptionist to shrink back slightly.

“N-No, of course not!” The receptionist stammered, raising her hands in surrender. “You wanted a class change, right? Let me see.” She inserted Papitas’ adventurer card into a magical device, which hummed softly as it analyzed the card.

“We can change your class since you haven’t unlocked any skills yet, which makes it easier. But before we proceed, you’re aware that none of your skill points as a Wizard will carry over, right?”

Papitas froze, her excitement quickly draining away. “…Come again?”

“Skill points earned as a Wizard can’t be transferred to a Martial Artist,” the receptionist explained matter-of-factly. “Only classes with certain affinities allow for some skill points to transfer. For instance, if you became a Scholar, you’d retain most of your skill points. But because Wizards and Martial Artists are so different, none of your points will carry over.”

Papitas felt as if the ground had crumbled beneath her. Not a single point transfers over… I’m going to have to start from level 1!? The thought made her want to scream, but she managed to keep it together. Then, a thought crossed her mind: The bank! I have five million Eris per day. As long as Salchi doesn’t rat me out, I’ll have a lot of money for a while. I’ll just buy a bunch of skill potions; they probably go for peanuts here. This won’t be a problem!

“Uh… yeah, please change my class. That’s fine,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.

The receptionist confirmed the request, placing the card on the magical device. After a few moments, it shone brightly, and the text on it changed.

“Here you go,” the receptionist said with a smile, handing the card back. “You’re now Papitas, the Martial Artist.”

“Yeah…” Papitas stared at the card, covering her mouth with her hand as she started to shake, trying her best to hold back tears. “The Martial Artist! Hahahahahaha!” she declared, raising her fists in the air.

“Congratulations. On behalf of the Axel adventurer’s guild, we wish you success in your future adventures,” the receptionist said, bowing respectfully before adding, “That’ll be a hundred thousand Eris, please.”

Papitas slammed the money on the counter. “Where’s the nearest bank!?” she demanded.

Calmly taking the money, the receptionist replied, “There’s one just across the street. Most adventurers go there to make a deposit as soon as they get paid—” But Papitas was already gone, bolting out the door as soon as she heard the words “across the street.”

Fortunately, there wasn’t a queue at the bank. Papitas’ heart raced as she walked up to the teller, her mind focused on getting the money, buying the potions, and unlocking new skills. She handed her adventurer’s card to the teller, who looked at it for a moment before frowning.

“Crimson Magic Bank? I’ve never heard of such a thing, and Papitas? Couldn’t you come up with a more ridiculous name?” The teller looked at her skeptically.

“What!?” Papitas exclaimed in surprise.

“This is obviously a forgery!” the man shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the bank. “This bank doesn’t appear in our system. You won’t be swindling any money from us! Security!” He called for the guards stationed at the entrance, who began to close in on Papitas.

Seeing she was outnumbered, Papitas snatched her card back and bolted for the door, skillfully dodging the guards before sprinting away from the bank as fast as she could.

Part 3

A while later.

After sprinting several blocks, Papitas finally slumped onto a park bench, trying to catch her breath. She’d left the bank’s security far behind, but her mind was still racing. What the hell was that?! she thought, staring up at the sky. Why couldn’t that guy find the bank? Argh, what am I supposed to do now?

Her frustration only grew until something important clicked in her mind. Wait… Miss Morocho mentioned that aside from adventurer’s cards, there’s barely any connection between the islands and the continent. Does that mean the banks are disconnected? Am I stuck with what I have?

She hurriedly opened her bag and counted her remaining money. Less than two hundred thousand Eris… If not for that damned butler!

Her shoulders slumped as she stared down at her dwindling funds. Her face drooped like a wilted flower, eyes wide with worry. She let out a long sigh, her entire posture screaming ‘defeated,’ as if the world’s weight had just crushed her dreams.

“It’ll make things harder, but I’ll just have to spend what I have on skill potions, join a party and complete a few quests”, she muttered, her resolve slowly returning. “I guess buying a house will have to wait, but at least I should have enough to eat well and sleep in a comfortable bed.” She stood up, determination rekindling, when something caught her eye.

In the middle of the park stood a large stone statue of a woman in armor, her hair tied in a ponytail, holding a sword with both hands, its tip resting on the ground. Papitas approached it, her curiosity piqued.

[THE NOBLE CRUSADER] the plaque read.

“Huh,” Papitas mumbled, getting a closer look. “So, this is what she looked like. Just as dignified as I pictured her.” She admired the statue for a moment, then wondered aloud, “Does that mean there’s a statue of the clanswoman too?”

“That’s correct, young lady,” came an unexpected voice. Papitas turned to see an overweight man approaching her. “There are statues of the four legendary heroes across the four main parks in town. The clanswoman’s statue is a ways from here, in the park on the northwest end of town.” He casually placed his hand on Papitas’ shoulder, making her do a double take. “Ah, young people these days, no respect for the heroes who made this town what it is,” he said, shaking his head. “But I can see you’re different. Hey, why don’t you treat me to lunch, and I’ll tell you all about the heroes?”

Papitas’ eye twitched. Already burned once, she wasn’t about to fall for another con. She plastered on a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, I’m sure your stories are fascinating, but I’m a bit short on cash, you see…”

The man’s grip tightened slightly. “Come on, just a quick bite. I can tell you all about the deeds—”

Before he could finish, Papitas grabbed his hand, twisted it off her shoulder, and gave him a light shove. Or, what was supposed to be a light shove. The old man went flying through the air, his cries of surprise echoing through the park as he landed in a nearby fountain with a resounding splash.

Papitas froze, staring at her hand in disbelief. “Oops.” Then, without missing a beat, she bolted away, leaving the drenched old man to sputter indignantly in the fountain.

She wandered around until finding a magic tool shop, still flustered from the encounter. The inside of the shop was dimly lit, with shelves crammed with all sorts of strange and dusty items. Behind the counter sat an old woman, who seemed to be fighting a losing battle with sleep.

“How much are skill potions?” Papitas asked, putting on her best smile.

“Mmh, skill potions? Those are uncommon, let me see… fifty thousand Eris,” the old woman replied after checking a ledger.

“What!?” Papitas gasped. In the islands, they’re as cheap as water—only five thousand! Why are they so much more expensive here?

The old woman shrugged. “I think I maybe have five of them, and they’re all quite old, so that’s with a good discount, girl. Brand new ones would probably be over three hundred thousand Eris apiece.”

“Uh, is there another magic store nearby…?” Papitas tried to keep her voice steady, not wanting to sound too desperate.

“What hole did you crawl from? It’s easy for some Archwizards to make skill potions, but there’s very few in this country. I doubt there’s a thousand skill potions in all the country, and most are likely in the possession of nobles. You won’t find any shortcuts in Axel. If you want to level up, you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way—go out there and beat some monsters.” The old woman chuckled, clearly amused by Papitas’ shock. “But, heh, I don’t even remember when I got those potions. I’ll sell them all to you for a hundred thousand. How’s that sound?”

Papitas’ mind raced. Starting from scratch wasn’t what she planned, but a few skill points could give her the edge she needed. She weighed her options—if she bought the potions, she’d have less money left for food and lodging. But without them, leveling up would be a much steeper climb.

After a moment, she sighed, her determination to master martial arts pushing her to agree. “Uh, okay… I’ll take them.”

Walking back to the guild, Papitas examined her adventurer’s card. With her newly acquired skill points, she had two options: use all five to unlock Fist Rush or spend four on Focus Punch and increase her accuracy a bit. Remembering her fight with the thugs in Port Altria, she chose the latter.

Alright, alright, so I have very little money and only one basic skill, Papitas thought, trying her best to hold her composure. But this isn’t over. I’ll join a good party, go on a quest, and get some money and experience. I’ll get all my skill points back in no time!

Scanning the quest board at the guild, she spotted several parties recruiting new members. With a confident smile, she read one and briskly approached a group of beginner looking adventurers.

“You’re looking for new party members, aren’t you?” she announced herself, making sure the whole guild—or maybe even the whole block—could hear. “You’re in luck! I am Papitas, a Martial Artist, and I’m willing to lend you my fists!”

A group of girls eyed her somewhat oddly until the leader spoke up. “Uh, sorry, but I don’t think you’ll fit with us. We protect fields from monsters, but we fight from a distance. We’re looking for a Wizard,” she explained as she and her group walked away. Papitas could hear them murmuring, “What kind of name is that?”

Unfazed, she approached another target, a man dressed in heavy armor. His helmet gleamed in the dim guild light, and his voice was as monotone as his expression after examining Papitas’ adventurer card. “Only one skill? I’m sorry, but we’re looking for someone with more experience. We don’t run a daycare; we need someone who can look after themselves.” He then waved her away dismissively. While frustrated, Papitas didn’t want to make unwanted trouble, so she walked away, but her patience wore thinner when she heard his party talking about her name.

For the next couple of hours, Papitas approached every party looking for members, but all gave her similar rejections. “We need someone who can use magic,” “We want someone with more skills,” “Our job is dangerous; we need someone with a higher level.” The words “higher level-more experience-more skills” echoed in her mind, growing more irritating with each repetition. But nothing grated on her nerves more than people questioning or mocking her name.

Near her boiling point, she grabbed the last recruitment notice and approached her final target. A large, muscular man with a thick beard and a single piercing eye under an eyepatch sized her up. His hair, white with age, gave him a grizzled look, and a massive broadsword rested against the table beside him.

“Is that your nom de guerre or something? And we have no use for a Martial Artist as thin as you. With those scrawny arms, I bet you couldn’t even punch a neroid, hahahaha!” His laughter boomed across the guild, and several surrounding adventurers joined in. Unbeknownst to Papitas, she had approached the most veteran adventurer in town.

“If anyone here has a problem with my name, I’m willing to hear it!” Papitas declared, slamming her fists on the table, causing the adventurers’ drinks to spill. The laughter abruptly stopped, and the guild fell silent.

The man stood up, towering over her like a mountain. “You don’t know who you’re messing with, little—”

“Yeah, yeah, the old cyclops is going to lecture me on what I should do?” she interrupted, showing not a hint of intimidation. “Let me tell you, you don’t impress me at all.” She scanned him up and down, then added with a smirk, “I bet you’re a weak... little... bitch!” Each word was delivered with increasing emphasis, making the collective guild gasp in amazement.

A vein bulged on the man’s forehead as he placed his elbow on the table. “You better not be all talk,” he said, his tone sending shivers through the crowd. His posture made it clear—he was challenging her to an arm-wrestling match. Papitas nodded and placed her arm on the table. The difference in their sizes was so stark that when he closed his hand around hers, it nearly enclosed her entire forearm. A large crowd immediately gathered around them.

“How about a bet, old man?” Papitas said, a smug grin spreading across her face. “If I win, I join your party. If you win, I’ll give you all the money I have—it’s quite a sum, I assure you.”

“Fine,” the old man replied, his voice full of confidence. “Hope missing an arm won’t stop you, little Martial Artist.” With a loud grunt, he pulled his shoulder, seemingly putting plenty of power into his arm.

But Papitas’ arm didn’t budge an inch. As the man’s face grew redder and redder, she let out an exaggerated yawn. “Is that all you got? Come oooooooooooooooooon!” she taunted, as the onlookers leaned in closer.

“Why are you playing with the little girl, Marcus?” a voice called from the crowd. “Yeah, beat her already and use the money to buy us all drinks!” “Don’t hurt her too much!” more voices chimed in, all in mocking tones.

The man’s face turned a shade of purple as he strained, putting every ounce of his strength into beating Papitas. Slowly, her arm began to lower, and it seemed like he might actually win.

“That’s enough,” Papitas said, flashing a grin, before casually moving her arm and sending the man flying, so strong that he flew through of the guild’s walls, sending him crashing into the street outside. The entire guild fell silent, mouths agape.

“Everyone who mocked my name, line up! It’s payback time!” she shouted, pounding her fists together, filling the faces of all the mocking adventurers with dread.

“I-I have to go, my quests won’t complete themselves!” one adventurer stammered. “Yeah, we all have work to do, let’s go!” another added, panic in their voice.

Before Papitas could do anything, the guild was nearly emptied. She remained standing as the receptionist approached, a forced smile on her face, but with an angry vein pulsing on her forehead.

“Miss Papitas,” she said, struggling to contain her irritation, “that’s public property you just destroyed. I’m afraid you’ll have to be fined.”

“Put it on the old man; we’re a party now, after all—” Papitas began, turning to where the man crashed, only to find he and his party had used the hole in the wall to escape.

“It’s your fine, Papitas,” the receptionist replied, her tone turning icy. “This will need to be appraised, but seeing how this is a historical building I’d estimate it’d cost at least two hundred thousand Eris. It’ll be deducted from your quest rewards. We hope to see a first payment soon.” She turned to leave, then paused to add, “And you may not be able to get far from the city until you pay your debt.”

A defeated Papitas slumped into one of the many now-vacant chairs, her face flat against the table. Aaaargh! Why does this keep getting worse? she thought miserably. I just got to this town—how am I in debt, with no money, no party, and no skills!?

Some minutes later, the guild door swung open, and a group of youthful voices filled the room as they approached the receptionist.

“Hey there, we’re a newbie party and we’re looking for a new member. How does the process work?” asked the leader, a boy clad in leather armor, a purple beanie perched on his head, and a sword strapped to his back. Two girls trailed behind him.

The receptionist handed him a sheet of paper. “Here, write a description of the person you’re looking for and post it on the quest board. But be warned, you might be waiting a while,” she said eyeing the empty guild.

“No, he won’t!” Papitas declared, appearing behind them, startling the group, “I’m the most veteran adventurer in the guild right now, and I’m ready to join your party. Name’s Papitas, Martial Artist. No need for introductions, just grab a quest and let’s get to work!”

Before the boy could protest, Papitas practically dragged him to the quest board, ignoring the surprised looks from the girls and the receptionist’s raised eyebrow.

With the quest accepted, the group headed to the outskirts of the city. Their task was simple: exterminate some recently awakened Giant Frogs, a basic quest most adventuring parties had completed multiple times.

As they walked through a field outside the city, the boy took the lead and said, “Oh yeah, we haven’t introduced ourselves, have we? I’m Victor, Adventurer class for now, but I’m planning to become a Warrior soon,” he added with a wink.

“I’m Barbara,” one of the girls introduced herself, her hair tied up in a high ponytail that cascaded down her back. “I’m a novice Wizard. I don’t know many spells yet, but I’ll do my best. Hope we can get along,” she said, extending a hand. She wore a deep blue outfit with a black cape, a whip coiled at her right side.

“And I’m Gabrielle, Vic’s older sister,” the other girl said. She was taller than the others, with long chestnut hair flowing freely. “I’m a Priest, and unlike these two, I’ve got some experience. I’ll make sure to keep us all safe,” she added, lifting a large silver staff. She sported a white overcoat with a silver breastplate, a metallic tiara adorning her forehead.

Just as introductions finished, a Giant Frog emerged from the ground ahead, immediately spotting them and slowly hopping in their direction.

“Alright, here it comes!” Victor said, drawing his sword while the girls readied their weapons. “Papitas, you distract it with your speed. I’ll cut its legs so it can’t move, then Barbara will finish it off with magic. Gabi, cast some protection spells.”

Papitas dashed toward the frog before Victor could finish giving orders. Distract it? Get out of here, I’m punching that frog’s head off! she thought, charging forward—only to trip over an uprooted root and faceplant into the ground. By the time she looked up, the towering frog loomed over her.

Before she could react, the frog lowered its head and promptly put her in its mouth. “Aaaaah! Help me!” she screamed, struggling, her entire body drenched in slime.

“What the hell are you doing? Follow the plan!” Victor shouted, sprinting toward her, with Barbara and Gabrielle close behind.

“Are you sure that girl’s a veteran adventurer?!” Barbara asked, preparing a spell.

With a swift strike, Victor severed one of the frog’s legs, causing it to collapse and spit Papitas out in the process. “Tinder!” Barbara yelled, and with a crack of her whip, she launched a fireball at the fallen frog, bursting into flames.

“Are you hurt?” Gabrielle hurried over to Papitas. “What were you thinking? Those things eat anything that moves! You have to be careful!”

Covered head to toe in slime, Papitas tried to clean herself off when a second frog appeared in the distance.

“There’s another one,” Barbara pointed out. “Let’s work as a team this time— Wait!” she protested as Papitas recklessly charged at it again.

“These damn monsters just insulted my honor! This won’t go unpunished!” Papitas shouted, racing toward the frog. “Feel the power of my new skill!” she yelled, her right fist glowing faintly. “Focus Punch!” she screamed, aiming for the frog’s belly.

Or rather, an inch in front of it, her attack failing to connect at all.

The frog looked down at her incredulously before also attempting to eat her, leaving her legs flailing outside its mouth.

“Why doesn’t she listen?!” the rest of the group cried out in unison as they rushed to save her once again.

Some time later, the group was catching their breath, surrounded by several dead frogs. “Hey, I went up a couple of levels!” Victor celebrated, checking his adventurer’s card.

“Me too!” Barbara grinned. “I’ve got enough skill points to unlock Zap!”

Their celebration was cut short by the sight of a slime-covered girl using the dead frogs as punching bags. “How about you try to eat me now, huh? Come on, get up! I’m ready for round two!” Papitas yelled, pounding the frogs.

“Is it really a good idea to have her in our party? I’m not so sure, Vic,” Gabrielle said, casting a wary glance at her brother.

“She did say she was a veteran adventurer. And hey, she was great bait,” he chuckled. “I don’t think we could’ve beaten so many frogs without her.”

“But she didn’t even land a hit!” Barbara protested. “What kind of Martial Artist is that…” she trailed off as her eyes caught sight of a giant frog flying through the air.

Papitas began kicking the frogs soaring to the horizon, disappearing from view, “Yeaaaaaaah! It’s out of the park! Who said frogs couldn’t fly!” she cheered, preparing to send another one flying.

“Wait! We’re supposed to sell their meat! That’s where most of the money comes from!” Victor shouted, trying to stop the deranged girl.

By nighttime, the group returned to town, with Papitas stopping at a public bathhouse to clean off the slime. Luckily, the bath was mostly empty, but it took a lot of effort to get the slime out of her hair, leaving a mess in the process.

“Mom, look, that girl has a tattoo on her bu—!” a young girl pointed at Papitas as she dressed, only for her mother to quickly cover her mouth, apologize, and hurry her away.

Finally clean after days, Papitas made her way back to the guild, enjoying the city’s nighttime lights as she walked. The guild’s atmosphere was lively, with groups celebrating another successful day, mugs of beer clinking together amid cheers and laughter.

Papitas found her new party doing the same, with dinner and beer waiting for her. “Hey, she’s finally here!” Gabrielle greeted her, face flushed from drinking a bit too much.

“What a day, eh Papitas?” Victor said, wiping his hands after devouring giant frog meat. “Here’s your cut. The receptionist told us you’re paying off some debt, so they took a bit off,” he said, handing Papitas a thin envelope.

Her mind was on the booze—finally, she’d get to see what all the fuss was about. She grabbed the mug and took a big gulp, only to almost immediately spit it out. “Guah! This tastes awful!” she exclaimed, prompting the party to erupt in laughter.

“Don’t tell me that’s your first beer!” Barbara teased, grinning. “Well, get ready—if today’s anything to go by, you’ll be having one every night!” she laughed.

Papitas was too exhausted to enjoy the lively atmosphere. With little rest over the past few days, she was nearly collapsing and decided to leave early to find somewhere decent to sleep.

Counting the money she’d earned from the quest, it was just a thousand Eris. Since she hadn’t done any actual fighting, she gained no experience, let alone skill points. It was a tough day, but that was fine. This was just the beginning. Things will get better tomorrow, she told herself, raising her fist in determination.

Part 4

Two months later...

Papitas stared at the wooden ceiling above her, large bags under her eyes as the morning light seeped through the cracks. The stables weren’t exactly luxury accommodations, but seeing how she ran out of money in less than a week, this is the best she could afford.

Things had not improved with Victor and the party, they could only handle simple quests with low rewards, and with part of her cut going straight to the guild to pay off her debt, she barely earned enough to get by.

To make matters worse, she had to take on part-time jobs just to survive. But things never seemed to go smoothly. Whether it was working as a clerk, saleswoman, barista, dog walker, tour guide, library assistant, or nanny, something always went wrong. Her temper got the best of her, some jerk pushed the wrong buttons, or the weird customs of the locals threw her off. Whatever the case, each job lasted a few days at best.

There was that time at the café where a customer complained about the foam on their coffee being ‘too fluffy.’ Too fluffy! What did that even mean? In her frustration, she nearly threw the entire cup at them, which, unsurprisingly, got her fired on the spot. Or the time she was a nanny, and the kid asked her if she was "as dumb as she looked." Her response? "You’ll find out if you keep talking," followed by the sound of a slammed door as she stormed out.

At least leveling up was going better, relatively speaking. Victor let her deal the finishing blow to some frogs, and she used the earned skill points mostly to improve her accuracy. She was still far from being the Martial Artist she wanted to be, but at least she could hit things now—more often than not at least. But as Victor and the rest leveled up faster, they started taking on more difficult quests that required them to leave town for days. Much to her frustration, Papitas wasn’t allowed to join them.

She tried sneaking out of town with them a few times, but the guards stationed at the gates knew her by now.

With Victor and the others often out of town, she had to search for a job more seriously. Thankfully, about a week ago, she found one. Construction work wasn’t glamorous, but it was steady, and her strength made it easy. The boss was nice and even asked her to join full-time. Maybe she could pay off her debt faster that way, but...

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” she screamed, startling the horses nearby, causing them to shriek in terror. “This wasn’t supposed to go like this! I came here to become an adventurer, not a construction workeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer—!”

“Hey, cut that out, we’re trying to sleep here!” a voice called out from across the wall.

“I’LL SHOW YOU WHO NEEDS TO SHUT UP!” Papitas snapped, getting up with the fury of a berserker. She stomped over to the next stall, ready to give someone a piece of her mind.

Later that morning, Papitas was back at the construction site, working on the wall surrounding the city. Her job was simple: pull a rope from the top of the wall to lift heavy supplies. While the physical labor was satisfying, it was hard not to feel a pang of disappointment seeing adventurer parties coming and going. She had to learn the hard way to control her anger after almost dropping a load of materials on some coworkers in a fit of rage.

As she whistled and pulled up a large cinder block with ease, among the dozens of adventuring parties, she spotted Victor and the rest returning to town. Finally! she thought. They’ve been gone for nearly a week. I can’t wait to smack some frogs!

During lunch break, she hurried to the guild, expecting to see them there. But outside the guild, an odd sight awaited her: several adventurers were gathering, with knights in bright armor among them.

“What’s going on here?” she asked Barbara, finally spotting her.

Barbara gasped at the sight of Papitas. “Oh, hi, Papitas…” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “Please talk with Victor.” She pointed to where Victor was in conversation with one of the knights.

“Hey, miss!” the knight greeted Papitas with a friendly tone, interrupting Victor as he was about to speak. “May I see your adventurer’s card?” His politeness caught her off guard, and she handed it over. “I see, I see…” he said after a quick scan. “Thank you very much, here you go!” He returned the card and walked away.

“What’s his deal?” Papitas asked Victor.

Victor scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Listen, Papitas... There’s no easy way to say this, so here I go: We’re leaving town. We were offered positions in the Royal Army after that dungeon raid. Seems like most of the adventurers here were offered the same deal. Everyone’s leaving.” He gestured to several familiar faces among the crowd.

“I’m sorry, Papitas,” Gabrielle appeared, placing a comforting hand on Papitas’ shoulder. “We told them we had a fourth party member, but the guild receptionist told the army that you can’t leave town.” Papitas glanced toward the guild entrance, spotting the receptionist standing there, a smug grin on her face.

“You were a great ally,” Victor tried to reassure her. “I know it won’t take long for you to find another party. Hey, maybe we’ll see each other again some time?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Papitas said, her voice carrying the weight of disappointment. Her sunglasses masked her emotions, but her tone gave her away. “You’ll hear from me again after I beat the Demon Queen. So, you better not forget about me. You’ll be able to say you were once party members with Papitas, the demon slayer!” She lifted her thumb in a determined gesture.

Less than half an hour later, all the adventurers had left, teleported away by the knights to who knows where. Papitas stayed until the end, waving goodbye to Victor and the others as they vanished from sight.

Alone once again, she went back to the guild, her stomach growling from hunger.

Papitas slammed down an empty beer jug and let out a loud sigh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she took off her sunglasses. She looked around the nearly empty guild with an expression of hopelessness. There were only a few non-adventurer patrons quietly eating lunch.

Still over a hundred thousand Eris in debt, no allies, and barely any skills... I failed as an adventurer, she thought, grinding her teeth. Maybe I should just go back home. There’s probably a magic telegraph in the guild. I could write to Salchi or Father to come for me. It won’t be fun, but it beats pulling rocks and sleeping in stables. Being an Archwizard can’t be that bad, right? Furita and the others must be doing okay... No, screw that!

She slammed the table and stood up, the sunglasses falling to the ground, I can’t give up, that’s not what she’d… what she’d would’ve wanted. I’ll just go on adventures on my own, who needs a party anyway?

Grabbing a quest from the board without even reading it, she approached the receptionist, “Hey, I want to take this quest.”

“A quest on your own? I’m not sure you can… do… that…?” the receptionist trailed off as she finally looked at Papitas eyes directly. Her eyes widened, and she started trembling like if she’d seen a ghost.

“What are you looking at? Is there a monster behind me or something—?” Papitas began turning around, but the receptionist suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her face uncomfortably close, staring into her eyes.

“W-what’s the matter with you!? Let go of me!” Papitas shoved her away, but the receptionist was sweating bullets, her breathing heavy.

“P-P-P-Papitas, y-you’re a foreigner, right? Haha, could you tell me where you’re from…?” the receptionist stammered, her words tumbling out in a nervous mess.

“Huh?” Papitas blinked in surprise. “I’m from Minmin.” She answered casually, thinking that humoring the receptionist might get her to back off.

“And that’s in—?”

“The Crimson Magic Islands,” Papitas interrupted, growing impatient. “So, can I take the quest or not? I—”

“M-MANAGER!! MANAGER!!” the receptionist suddenly screamed, causing a commotion that drew the attention of the other guild employees, who began crowding around them.

Feeling trapped, Papitas tried to defend herself, “I-I haven’t done anything, she just suddenly went… nuts?” Her expression turned to horror when she saw that the other staff were looking at her with the same wide-eyed terror as the receptionist. “Z-Zombies!? Have you people turned into zombies?” she screamed, before relaxing and taking a fighting stance. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you all to the afterlife!”

As Papitas prepared to go on the offensive, the guild manager, an old man with a large white mustache, appeared. “What’s going on? What’s with all the yelling?” he asked, looking confused.

“M-M-M-Manager, this-this-this girl, she, she’s a, she’s a…” the receptionist stammered, barely managing to get the words out.

The manager turned to the rest of the staff, but they were equally flustered, so he approached Papitas. “Excuse me, miss. Could you explain to me what—!” His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw her. “R-red eyes…” he muttered in disbelief.

“T-that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. She’s the one central has been looking for, Code: Crimson!” the receptionist exclaimed, pointing at Papitas like she was some sort of dangerous creature.

“What the hell is going on?” Papitas demanded. “Listen, I need to go—”

“Y-yes, of course, miss, anything you like! We just need to confirm a few things first. Tell me, are both of your parents from the Crimson Magic Clan?” the supervisor asked, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Huh?” Papitas flinched at the sudden question. “Well, my father once showed me our family lineage, and according to it, all my ancestors came from the clan, going way back to when the clan lived in this country. But why do you ask—?”

Papitas was interrupted by a collective gasp from the staff.

“Everyone, this young lady here is our most honored guest. Fulfill her every request until we sort this out. I’ll be back right away!” the supervisor barked orders before sprinting out of the guild.

“Wha…?” Papitas stared in disbelief, then turned to the receptionist. “…My every demand, huh?” she said with a mischievous grin.

Less than an hour later, the guild manager returned, carrying a device that looked like some kind of scale. Papitas had used the time to get as much payback as possible from the receptionist, who was now diligently cutting meat from the most expensive dish on the menu.

“Thank goodness you’re still here,” the manager said, looking relieved as placed the device on the table. “Miss, if you could kindly place your hand here.”

“What is this?” Papitas asked, opening her mouth and signaling the receptionist to feed her more.

“This magic item can identify the ancestry of whoever uses it. Nobles use it to verify if their children are truly theirs. I had to call in a few favors to get it,” he explained, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Not that we doubt you, but we need to confirm your lineage. It’s of utmost importance.”

Papitas placed her hand on one of the scales without much thought, as it tipped the other side began to glow. Everyone in the room held their breath until a hologram appeared above the scale, leaving the room in stunned silence.

[ANCESTRY: CRIMSON MAGIC CLAN. RELIABILITY: 100%]

“I need to send a telegram to Arcanletia, right away…” the supervisor muttered, his face pale with shock.

Papitas, having downed some of the most expensive booze in the guild, was napping peacefully on one of the tables. She had no idea why the guild’s behavior had changed so suddenly, but it wasn’t really bothering her. Nonetheless, everyone seemed too scared to explain anything.

When she was woken up, there was a row of knights standing in front of her, their armor far more ornate than the one Victor and the rest left with earlier. These guys seemed the real deal, their presence majestic and intimidating, in stark contrast to the half-drunk Papitas, who had drool coming out of her mouth and her hair all over her face.

“Are you sure this is her?” the leader of the knights asked, his voice sharp, never taking his eyes off Papitas.

“Y-yes, we used the magic identifier to make sure...” the manager answered timidly.

With a glance, the leader ordered one of his knights to pull out a magic scale of their own and set it in front of Papitas. “Miss, if you will,” he instructed, his gaze dead serious.

“Ugh...” Papitas grunted, slapping her hand onto the scale. The knights remained stoic as the results appeared once again.

[ANCESTRY: CRIMSON MAGIC CLAN. RELIABILITY: 100%]

The knights’ expressions shifted to disbelief. The leader took a knee, followed by the rest of his men.

“Miss Papitas, on behalf of the King of Belzerg himself, I must ask you to come with us to Arcanletia. The fate of our very world may rest in your hands...”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: A Captive Noble! – Part 1

Part 1

Arcanletia was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, a testament to the deep winter that had settled over the city. The rooftops were covered in white, and the streets sparkled under the pale sunlight, reflecting the untouched beauty of the season. The air was crisp, yet not biting, creating a picturesque winter scene that was both lively and serene.

The Axis Cathedral was perched at the city’s highest point, its spires reaching toward the heavens, visible from almost anywhere in the city.

Despite the snow-covered streets, the city remained vibrant, with carriages rolling by and merchants setting up shop, their goods protected from the elements by makeshift canopies. The holy water, immune to the cold, flowed steadily through the city's aqueducts, a constant, reassuring presence. It was more than just water—it was the city's lifeblood, a sacred force that kept the city safe from the Demon Queen, its holy power so potent that not even the Demon Queen Army generals could set foot on the city.

The streets were alive with people, bundled up in warm clothing yet moving about with the ease of those accustomed to the cold. Children laughed and played in the snow; their breath visible in the crisp air as they chased each other through the streets. Here and there, you could see people using magic to thaw the snow from their doorsteps or clear paths for carriages that rolled by their wheels crunching over the packed snow.

In the heart of the city, the Royal Residence stood as a testament to the royalty that had ruled from this so-called temporary capital for centuries. Although not a castle, the luxurious mansion was a grand structure in its own right, with a sprawling garden and ornate architecture that spoke of the wealth and power of the royal family.

On the garden, a young woman was building a large snowman. Her cheeks flushed a bright rosy hue from the cold, which only served to highlight her striking features. She had radiant blonde hair that gleamed even under the overcast sky, cut stylishly to just below her chin, framing her face perfectly. Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and joy as she rolled a large snowball across the ground. Long, elegant eyelashes fluttered each time she blinked away a stray snowflake. Her lips, a natural soft pink, curved into a satisfied smile as the snowman began to take shape.

She was dressed in a chic, fashionable winter outfit—a tailored coat of deep navy blue, lined with soft fur at the collar and cuffs, and a pair of matching boots that hugged her legs just right. Her gloves, though now covered in ice and frost, were a stylish contrast in white, detailed with delicate embroidery.

“Lady Lalemana, please go back inside—you’ll get sick!” a maid called out, hurrying over to her. The maid's concern was evident as she watched the young woman lift a sizable snowball.

“I’ll be fine,” the young woman replied between breaths. “Just a little more, and it'll be perfect.” She carefully placed the snowball atop the others, completing the snowman. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

“Lady Dustiness,” came a sterner voice. Turning around, she saw a knight approaching, his armor gleaming even in the subdued light. “Please return indoors and warm up. You know we can't risk your health,” he said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, the young woman cast one last look at her snowman before heading back inside the Royal Residence. She pulled off her gloves, revealing her well-manicured nails painted a soft, pastel pink. Blowing warm air onto her hands, she slowly began to feel the warmth return to her fingers. The knight did not leave her side until she was safely seated in front of a large fireplace, its flames crackling merrily.

“Lulú!” another voice called out just as the knight left the room. “Good heavens, where have you been? I've been looking for you all morning.” A woman entered, her presence commanding yet graceful. She appeared to be in her early forties, though her youthful features made it hard to tell. Her long, golden hair cascaded over her shoulders in elegant waves, mirroring her daughter's but longer and more mature in style. Her eyes, the same deep blue, held a mix of concern and mild exasperation.

“Mom, I told you to stop calling me that outside our wing,” Lalemana replied, her tone half-annoyed, half-resigned. “I’m Lalemana out here,” she insisted, shooting her mother a sharp look, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

"Stop being such a pain for the staff," her mother teased as she sat beside Lalemana, whacking her softly on the head. "Why are you so eager to be out in the cold anyway?"

Before Lalemana could answer, a maid entered with a tray of steaming drinks. She handed one to each of them with a bow.

"I was building a snowman," Lalemana replied, her eyes fixed on the fire, watching as the flames danced. "The biggest one I could, all the way in the corner of the garden. Maybe she’ll be able to see it from her window.” Her voice trailed off, tinged with a quiet sadness.

Her mother placed an arm around her shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. "She’ll get better soon. You’ll see. Don't worry so much."

They sat together in comfortable silence for a while, letting the warmth of the fire slowly bring color back to Lalemana’s face. As her rosy cheeks faded to their usual hue, she sighed, "I guess I never realized just how much of a prisoner I am here until recently," she said softly.

"Don't talk like that," her mother interrupted gently, her eyes locking with Lalemana's. "You have something important to do, something only you can do." Her gaze was intent, but Lalemana didn’t respond. She stood abruptly, causing her mother to look at her with concern. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going for a walk. I won’t leave the residence, don’t worry." Lalemana waved a hand dismissively and headed out the door, the knight stationed outside the room immediately falling into step behind her.

The knight’s armor clinked softly behind her, a constant reminder of the ever-present guard as they reached the second floor. Lalemana had long since given up on trying engaging them in conversation. She knew most of the knights resented her, viewing her as nothing more than a burden. The thought of trying to make even small talk felt pointless.

Finally, she reached the large balcony on the third floor, the snowman in the garden below still visible.

Leaning against the railing, Lalemana pulled a small box from under her coat, taking out a cigarette. With a snap of her fingers, she lit it with a flicker of magic and took a long drag. Exhaling, she glanced at the knight standing just inside the doorway, his expression as rigid as always.

"This will kill me eventually, you know?" she remarked with a smirk, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Aren’t you supposed to stop me from doing stupid things like this?"

The knight didn’t respond, only standing there as stoically as ever.

Lalemana turned her gaze outward, looking over the snow-covered rooftops of Arcanletia. Guards patrolled every corner of the residence, and she knew they had eyes on her from almost every direction. Privacy was a luxury she had never known—not that it had bothered her much before. But now… everything felt different.

Yet, beyond the fence of the royal compound, life continued as usual. Nobles strolled the streets, carriages rolled by, trolleys silently passed by, and merchants peddled their goods. The city buzzed with energy, and she couldn’t help but feel envious of the freedom the people below enjoyed.

"Let’s go back inside, Lady Dustiness," the knight finally said, breaking the silence.

She took one last puff and glanced back at him, the cigarette almost burned to the filter. "Yeah, I’ll be going alright," she muttered, though her voice held a hint of defiance.

The knight watched her closely as the cigarette in her hand seemed to smoke far more than it should. He squinted, barely able to see her through the smoke. "Wait..." he finally realized something was off.

"You’re a bit slow," she said with a mischievous grin. Glowing symbols suddenly appearing on the cigarette butt. With a flick, she tossed it to the ground, and in an instant, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped the balcony, spilling into the garden below.

“Lady Dustiness!” he yelled, waving his sword in an attempt to clear the air. “Not again!”

With a frustrated grunt, the knight waved his sword, clearing the smoke. But by the time the air was clear, Lalemana had vanished.

He cursed under his breath, pulling out a flare gun and firing it into the sky. A puff of blue smoke bloomed overhead, signaling to the other guards that the ‘Most Valuable Princess’ had slipped away, again.

Alarm bells rang out sharply across the Royal Residence, echoing throughout the city. Knights and soldiers immediately sprang into action, their armor clanking as they rushed about the grounds. Little time passed before puffs of smoke rose over the city’s heavily guarded entrances, signaling the alert. The gates were now on lockdown, and more puffs of smoke began dotting the sky as every possible exit from the city was sealed. No one, especially not the MVP, was leaving unnoticed.

Meanwhile, several blocks away from the Royal Residence, a manhole cover quietly lifted. From it emerged a large figure draped in a heavy winter coat, softly setting the cover back in place with a soft thud. “That should keep them busy for a while,” murmured the figure, a scarf obscuring her face. Pulling down the scarf, the figure revealed herself to be none other than Lalemana, disguised in layers upon layers of clothes to hide her identity and figure.

She tugged her coat tighter and hurried toward one of the main streets, her breath coming out in labored puffs. “Ugh... this is exhausting,” she sighed, clearly struggling under the weight of her disguise. “This is going to take a while,” she muttered under her breath, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure no one was following.

A while later, chaos reigned outside the Axis Cathedral. The main gate was choked with a massive crowd of believers. The cathedral grounds were surrounded by a large, ornate metal gate, beyond which lay the lush gardens and imposing structure of the Axis Cathedral itself. A row of knights stood outside the gate, blocking the flow of people from entering.

“Let us pass!”, “We’ll be late, move out of the way!”, “No one is above Lady Aqua!” The crowd’s angry shouts rang out in unison, their frustration mounting as the knights held their ground.

The leader of the garrison, a heavily armored man with a distinctive scar running down his cheek, raised his voice above the shouting, “We are here on official royal business!” he barked, his voice cutting through the clamor. “We’re searching for someone, and we have reason to believe they’ve taken refuge inside the cathedral. Let us pass, and we’ll be on our way—!”

But before he could say more, a booming voice interrupted. “What’s this commotion?”

The captain groaned internally as a man dressed in priestly robes strode confidently toward the gate, flanked by a group of nuns and priests who carried large sacks over their shoulders. His long, flowing robes flapped dramatically in the cold breeze, and his thick mustache twirled majestically as he surveyed the scene with gleeful arrogance.

“The Royal Army may not interfere with the holy grounds of Lady Aqua’s church!” the man declared, his voice resonating with over-the-top zeal. His followers cheered wildly, as if he’d just delivered the punchline of a brilliant joke. “You know the rules! Lady Aqua’s faithful shall not be impeded by the whims of some misplaced knights!”

“Archbishop Auberon!” The captain’s frustration was palpable as he tried to remain calm. “We are looking for the MVP! Based on what happened in a previous incident, we have strong reasons to believe this person is here! Let us search the grounds, and we’ll be on our way!”

Archbishop Auberon’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he crossed his arms. “That person, whoever they may be, is free to do as they please. The Axis Church teaches forgiveness and freedom above all else! We do not deny anyone their desires. And if they are here, they are under our protection!”

The crowd roared again, and the nuns behind him looked positively giddy, tomatoes and powdered slime at the ready.

Archbishop Auberon smirked, twirling his mustache with glee. “If the person you seek is here, I’ll personally ensure their safe return to you.” He leaned forward with a sly grin. “That solves your problem, right?”

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “N-no! The last thing we need is for them to meet any of your… followers. Please, just let us search…”

Archbishop Auberon only laughed heartily. “No one sets foot in the Axis Cathedral unless they see the light of Lady Aqua!” The zeal in his voice only made the crowd wilder. His eyes gleamed mischievously as he turned to his nuns, who were eagerly preparing their projectiles. “Well then,” he said, barely concealing a chuckle, “you’d best leave now before things get... messy.”

Sighing in defeat, the captain motioned to his men. “Let them through,” he muttered, stepping aside as the crowd of Axis followers swarmed past. As the wave of believers surged into the cathedral, a large woman in a winter coat slipped through the crowd unnoticed.

The captain sat down heavily in the snow, rubbing his temples. “Get comfortable, people” he grumbled to his knights, “we’ll be here for a while.”

Lalemana tried to pry away from the crowd, her true objective was the dormitories for the priests, there is the reason she came all the way through, but no matter how politely, or impolitely, she tried to make her way, the crowd wouldn’t budge, and soon enough she found herself inside the cathedral.

She sat quietly near the back, trying to blend in, ready to take the first chance to escape. Her heart was racing—this wasn’t the first time she’d escape her escort, won’t be long before protection around her increases. But within these walls, she felt safe. The royal family’s agreement with the Axis Church meant no royal official could step foot inside the Axis Cathedral, making it the only place in Arcanletia where she could truly hide.

Unfortunately, ‘safe’ was a relative term when it came to the Axis Church. Mass had just started, and Lalemana already felt like she’d stepped into another dimension.

“Brothers and sisters!” Archbishop Auberon began, arms raised high, “Lady Aqua teaches us the greatest lesson of all—forgiveness! But more than that, she teaches us to never take responsibility for our actions! Everything is someone else’s fault!”

The crowd cheered wildly, nodding in agreement.

“If you were rude to someone today, that’s on them! If you forgot something important, blame your genes! Lady Aqua will forgive all!”

Lalemana’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was this… normal?

He continued, his sermon growing more absurd by the minute. “And when you die, brothers and sisters, you will be reborn in the holy land of Japan! There, your hobbies will be embraced! Your perversions, your laziness—all will be celebrated!”

The crowd was practically vibrating with excitement, shouting, “Praise Aqua!”

Lalemana tugged at her coat’s collar nervously as the chaos of the mass unfolded before her. She’d heard about the Axis Church’s eccentricities but seeing them firsthand was overwhelming. The cathedral, with its high vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows, seemed like the perfect place for solemn worship. However, the reality inside was quite the opposite.

The seats were packed with rowdy followers, some standing on the benches, others lounging with their legs kicked up, and a few lying down across the seats as if they were sunbathing. The cathedral was alive with activity, with people chatting, shouting, and laughing all at once.

Archbishop Auberon continued, waving his arms theatrically, “If you have desires, embrace them! If you have vices, nurture them! If you want to sleep until noon, then do it! Blame society, blame the world, but never blame yourselves!”

The congregation erupted into cheers, and some people were even dancing in the aisles. One man was holding up a large, colorful banner that read [LONG LIVE LADY AQUA!] while another was twirling glow sticks as if he were at a concert.

Lalemana blinked in disbelief as she watched the bizarre display unfold. The entire mass was like nothing she’d ever seen—there were no hymns, no solemn prayers, no moments of quiet reflection. Instead, it was a full-blown celebration of everything strange, chaotic, and, frankly, irresponsible. Axis followers were clapping, singing songs about slacking off, and shouting things like “I’ll never do another day of work!” and “I’m blaming my parents for everything from now on!”

At one point, a nun carrying a basket of pastries walked down the aisle, casually offering snacks to the congregants. “They’re sweetened with powdered slime!” she chirped, as though that was the most important thing in the world.

Archbishop Auberon’s voice boomed once more. “If you failed your studies, brothers and sisters, fear not! You’re not to blame! The system failed you! If you skipped work, it’s because work is a curse! Lady Aqua herself forgives you for embracing her path!”

“I quit my job last week!” a man shouted from the middle of the crowd, pumping his fist in the air as the congregation cheered him on.

“Praise Aqua! You’ve taken the first step toward freedom!” Archbishop Auberon pointed at the man with pride, encouraging the crowd to give him a round of applause.

Lalemana could barely contain her bewilderment. Her head was spinning as she tried to make sense of it all. This is the Axis Church? The place that so many make fun off? She had expected something outlandish, but this was a whole new level of absurdity.

She shook her head, trying to focus. She came here looking for someone, not to get caught up in this madness.

“And remember, brothers and sisters, there are no responsibilities here! Everything that goes wrong in your life is because of others! Society, genetics, even the weather—it’s all out of your control! So why worry? Lady Aqua has freed us from guilt!”

The crowd roared with approval again, and Lalemana found herself edging closer to the door, feeling the absurdity of the situation pulling her in like a whirlwind.

But before she could leave, Archbishop Auberon pointed directly at her. “And you, young traveler in the heavy coat! Yes, you!” he called, his eyes locking onto hers. “Come, join us in the light of Aqua! Cast aside your burdens and be reborn as an Axis follower! You, too, can be free from all responsibility!”

Lalemana froze, feeling the eyes of the entire congregation on her. She clutched her coat tighter around herself, her mind racing. What have I gotten myself into?

Not wanting to cause a scene, she quietly returned to her seat. She glanced up at the chaotic display in front of her—people were still shouting praises to Aqua, dancing in the aisles, and indulging in the oddest ‘worship’ rituals she had ever seen. It can't go on for much longer, she reassured herself. It's already been an hour, right?

Part 2

Three hours later...

The streets surrounding the Axis Cathedral were filled with streams of people heading home, their breath fogging in the icy air. Snow fell lightly from the sky, the moon casting a silvery glow over the scene. The air was biting, colder than it had been earlier, seeping through the layers of Lalemana's winter coats.

But the cold wasn’t the worst of her problems. It was the headache—a pounding, unforgiving ache at her temples that seemed to only get worse with each passing minute. How do they believe in this stuff? Three solid hours of the most absurd sermon she had ever endured left her feeling like her brain had been scrambled. These people may be even worse than the Demon Queen! She was not one to exaggerate, but the bizarre teachings she was subjected to during mass were enough to make anyone reconsider the perils of humanity.

Previously, she had snuck away from the guards, wandered the city streets, and somehow ended up at the Axis Cathedral. That time, she'd bumped into a young priest who, despite being as strange as Archbishop Auberon, was a little more... approachable. Or maybe just less fanatical. She had no idea why he had taken an interest in her, but he had. And after some weird sermon, she'd befriended him. He had no clue who she really was, of course—she came off as some runaway noble. That suited her just fine.

Approaching the dormitories, Lalemana sighed. The last thing she needed was more chaos from the Axis Church, but there was something else on her mind tonight. Despite her pounding headache and the urge to flee, she had to find him again. He was her one connection in the Axis Church, and no matter how bizarre things got, he was still a friend—well, as much of a friend as an eccentric Axis priest could be.

In a room of the upper floors of the dormitories, a young man was leaning back in his chair, a lamp beside him as he read. The room was small and cluttered, with clothes strewn about, books stacked haphazardly on a desk, and a bed that looked like it hadn't been made in weeks.

His eyes glinted mischievously as he murmured to himself, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “Oh yes... this is very... educational.”

The dim light flickered over his unkempt hair, slightly long and uneven, and the beginnings of a scraggly beard that clung to his chin like a teenager trying to look older than he was.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startled him. He yelped, almost dropping the magazine and narrowly avoiding knocking over the lamp.

“Can’t you read?” he called, his voice muffled as he tried to shove the magazine under his desk. “There’s a ‘do not disturb’ sign out there for a reason!”

The knocks came again, this time louder and more insistent.

“All right, all right!” he grumbled, getting up to open the door. “This better be important. I’m doing valuable church business!” His grumbling stopped the moment he opened the door and saw who was standing there.

A towering woman, bundled in a massive winter coat, stood in the doorway. Arthur’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping. “L-Lady Aqua has finally answered my prayers—” he began to say; only to be shoved backward as the woman pushed her way inside.

Before he could finish the thought, the woman began peeling off her layers. His face turned bright red; hands clasped together as if in a prayer. “H-hold on! I mean, I know you're eager, but maybe we should get to know each other—”

The words died in his throat as the bulky coat fell away, revealing not a curvy goddess, but a slim, athletic figure underneath. His shoulders slumped. “Oh... it’s just you again.”

Lalemana, now seated on the bed, gave him a sharp look, “What’s that supposed to mean? Is that how you greet a beautiful girl who comes to see you?” she huffed, sitting on his bed. She stretched her arms out wide, arching her back dramatically, causing her coat to slip off her shoulders, exposing her slim waist and making her chest more prominent.

He adjusted his glasses, trying not to gawk too obviously, but failed miserably. “You’re… uh, pretty, sure. But you're a bit too... thin for my tastes.”

Lalemana’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “You know, it’s because you say things like that, women avoid you, Arthur” she retorted, “oh, and because you're a priest of the Axis Church.”

She laid on her stomach, propping her chin on her hands and kicking her feet up in the air, trying to strike a pose she thought would look cute. But her legs moved awkwardly, her position resembling a tangled cat more than anything seductive.

Arthur let out a huff. “Anyway, what are you doing here?” he asked, hastily trying to hide the magazine he had been reading earlier. "Didn’t you say you were going to make up with your family or something?"

Lalemana shrugged, trying again to act nonchalant and alluring, though it just came off as bizarre. “Yeah, but you said I was welcome here whenever.”

“Yes, within reasonable hours!” he protested, lifting his arms. “I’m a valuable priest here. Who knows what kind of sensitive information could be lying around on my desk?”

“You were reading an adult magazine,” she said flatly, pointing at the one he had tried to hide. “There’s another one on top of your closet, one under your pillow, and another under your bed.”

His face flushed bright red as she listed his secret stash. “B-being true to one’s desires is the most important thing! It’s what Lady Aqua teaches us!” he said, raising his hands dramatically.

Lalemana cringed, remembering the ridiculous things Archbishop Auberon had preached during mass.

“But seriously, why are you here?" he asked, dropping his tone to something more sincere as he leaned back in his chair. “Of course, the church will expect some... compensation.” He rifled through a drawer, pulling out a sheet of paper. “You could sign this, or, well, the church is always in need of donations.”

Lalemana didn’t even glance at him. Instead, she stared out the window, watching the snow falling softly over the city. “Last time I left, I overheard you were pretty talented at healing magic...” she said, her voice soft, her thoughts clearly somewhere else.

He straightened up, adjusting his glasses with a proud smile. “You bet! Probably the best after Archbishop Auberon! But you don’t look hurt. What are you really after?” He leaned forward, his observant side kicking in.

“There’s someone,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care, “in the Royal Residence who’s been needing special care for a few months. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it?” Lalemana’s gaze turned dead serious as she looked at him.

“I can’t confirm or deny that!” he replied with a big smile, though his eyes gave him away—she had hit the mark.

“Could you at least—”

“No can do, sorry!” he interrupted her mid-sentence. “That could get me in a lot of trouble, you know? Axis priests aren’t even supposed to be able to enter the Royal Residence to begin with.” He scratched the back of his head, his eyes shifting away from hers. “But this explains a lot about you, though,” he added with the same gentle smile.

She leaned closer, her eyes scanning the floor. “I need to know!” Lalemana pleaded, her voice soft but intense, before locking eyes with him again. Her striking blue eyes shimmered with determination.

Arthur sighed, avoiding her gaze as much as possible—especially now that Lalemana had shifted her position, attempting to sit in a way that accentuated her chest. She thought it looked seductive, but to Arthur, she came off like a weird dork trying too hard.

His face flushed. He was about to say something when—

“Hey, Artie, you done with those magazines yet? I wanna read them again!” Archbishop Auberon suddenly barged in, catching Lalemana off guard. She yelped and covered herself, her face bright red.

Arthur frantically gestured toward Lalemana, desperately trying to cover up the scattered clothes and magazines. “Uh, Archbishop Auberon! Can you come back later?” he stammered, clearly panicked.

With Lalemana blushing furiously, the room scattered with clothes, and Arthur's frantic attempts to cover up, the scene gave an impression far from innocent. Archbishop Auberon's hearty laugh didn’t help matters.

“Oh… oooooooh!” Archbishop Auberon’s eyes widened as a knowing smile crept onto his face. “Didn’t think you had it in you, boy! Congratulations! And she’s quite the catch, too!” He slapped Arthur on the back, laughing heartily.

Lalemana’s face flushed even redder. “As if!” she screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at both priests. “I wouldn’t let this creep lay a finger on me! I’m still a maiden of noble birth!”

Archbishop Auberon raised an eyebrow, looking at her more intently. “Hmm,” he murmured, squinting a bit. “Now that I think about it… haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

Arthur looked confused, “Um, Archbishop Auberon?” he asked cautiously. He had never seen his mentor this serious.

The older priest stroked his mustache. “Yes… yes…” he muttered, the realization dawning on him. His eyes sparkled with recognition.

“Archbishop Auberon?” Arthur pressed again, his concern growing.

But Archbishop Auberon waved away his worries with a chuckle. “Don’t mind it, Artie.” Then, turning to Lalemana, he said, “Miss, it’s getting rather late, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

Lalemana’s eyes darted toward Arthur, silently pleading for help. But all Arthur could do was offer a sheepish shrug, there was no arguing with him.

Huffing, she gathered her coats and rushed out of the room, her face still burning with embarrassment. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye.

As she made her way toward the exit of the cathedral grounds, she heard a voice call from behind her.

“Lady Dustiness, may I have a word?”

Her heart dropped. Had her cover been blown? She turned around slowly to find Archbishop Auberon standing under a small lamppost, his face illuminated by its soft glow, a knowing yet gentle smile playing on his lips.

“How did you…?” she began, but her voice cracked.

“Please,” Archbishop Auberon said softly, his tone far more serious than before. “There’s no need to be frightened. I mean you no harm.”

Lalemana’s expression turned icy. “What do you want?” she asked sharply. “Am I supposed to join the Axis Church now? Or do you want a bribe?”

Archbishop Auberon’s serene expression faltered. “Hey! I said I meant no harm!” he exclaimed, waving his hands defensively. “You may think you know your importance, but you clearly don’t understand it fully. These escapades aren’t helping anyone.”

Important, special, chosen—yeah, I've heard it all my life, and all it’s ever meant is chains. Lalemana thought bitterly, narrowing her eyes.

Archbishop Auberon sighed deeply, the cold air turning his breath into mist. He pointed toward a garden beyond the dormitories. “There’s another entrance over there, hardly used. You should be able to sneak out that way. Every other exit is guarded.”

Lalemana bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then turned to leave without another word. But just before stepping away, she hesitated. Without turning to face him, she spoke in a shaky voice. “I came here to find out how t—”

“My lips are sealed,” Archbishop Auberon interrupted gently, but firmly. She turned back to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, her frustration evident.

“It’s not because of the king or something like that,” Archbishop Auberon explained, his tone softening. “It’s because of her. She made it clear—she doesn’t want anyone, least of all you, to know.”

Her face fell, and without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away. The snow crunched under her boots as she pulled her coat tighter, trying to fend off the cold.

Back in the Royal Residence, things were getting tense. Lalemana had been missing since the early afternoon, and the search throughout the city had yielded no results. Every location she frequented had been checked, and roadblocks were set up. Carriages, trolleys, subway stations—everything was being inspected, even trains leaving the city. Entire garrisons of soldiers were stationed outside Axis Church facilities, leading to massive delays and disruptions.

Only one place remained unchecked: the Dustiness family wing, the only part of the Royal Residence where the Royal Guard couldn’t enter without permission. A group of knights stood in front of the imposing double doors but were met by the steadfast maids inside, determined not to let them through.

"Let us in! We work for the king!" one knight barked, his frustration growing. "We've searched everywhere else—just step aside!" shouted another.

But the maids stood firm, expressions like they could cut steel.

“She’s not here!” one maid declared, glaring daggers at the knights.  “You brutes have no right to violate Lady Lalemana's sanctuary!” another one retorted, her arms crossed, her glare sharp enough to pierce armor.  Another maid chimed in, “I recognize some of you as Axis Cultists! Are you here to peek at the young lady’s undergarments?”

The knights found themselves utterly defeated by the maids’ fierce resistance, flinching under their accusations. It wasn’t until a high-ranking officer of the Royal Guard appeared that the situation calmed down. The man—a towering, bald figure with a thick beard—approached, speaking politely yet firmly.

“Excuse me, Lady Marcella,” he addressed Lalemana’s mother, who was casually sipping tea amidst the commotion. “We haven’t informed the king about this yet. I know you value your daughter’s freedom, but orders from above forbid her disappearance from being ignored. I humbly ask you to allow me, and only me, to enter and confirm she’s not here. I promise, under your supervision, to act with nothing but propriety.”

With a resigned sigh, Lady Marcella signaled the maids to step aside, though they continued to glare daggers at the knights. “Very well. Follow me.”

The bald knight, Major Bertram, gave a respectful nod before entering the ornate halls of the Dustiness wing. The maids stayed close, their glares never leaving him as he moved through the grand space, unable to even touch a door without several eyes watching him.

The Dustiness wing, though tucked away, was no less opulent than the rest of the Royal Residence. The hallways were adorned with gilded wooden panels, candle sconces casting soft, warm light against the crimson and gold tapestries. Rich carpets muffled every footstep, and the entire space had a refined elegance fitting for nobility.

Returning to the main hall after checking all the rooms, Beltram said. “If you’ll allow me, ma’am, I’d like to check her bedroom too.”

Her room was hidden—an elaborate precaution taken for her safety. The entrance was hidden behind a staircase leading underground, where a thick metallic door led to the final hallway to her bedroom.

Lady Marcella sighed, her patience wearing thin, but motioned forward. The maids grumbled but followed closely behind as they descended into a long, lavishly decorated hallway. The underground passage was just as beautiful as the wing above, wooden walls, and expensive-looking carpets that stretched on.

Meanwhile, Lalemana had returned to her room just minutes earlier, through her private bathroom. Where she’d constructed a secret tunnel leading to a higher level of the sewers, the only way she could move about without supervision.

After sneaking back, exhausted from a long day of eluding everyone, she took a quick bath, sweat and grime washing away as steam filled the room.

Lady Marcella knocked lightly on the door leading to the bedroom, “Lulú, dear? Are you in there?” she called softly; her tone soothing but with an edge that only a mother could deliver. “We’ve been looking for you all afternoon.”

The door creaked open just as Lalemana, fresh from her bath, walked in from the other entrance. Both parties froze in place. Lalemana stood in her room, dripping wet, with a towel barely covering her waist and another just about managing to shield her chest.

Lady Marcella opened the door wider, “As you can see, she’s—” The words caught in her throat when she spotted her daughter, in all her freshly-bathed glory.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lalemana screamed, loud enough for the entire residence to hear.

Major Bertram, startled by the ear-piercing scream, instinctively stepped back. Before he could say anything, one of the maids hurled herself in front of him, blocking his eyes. The other maids followed, tackling him to the ground.

“Don’t you dare look at Lady Lalemana!”, “You pervert!”, “Cover his eyes!”

“I didn’t—! Wait! I apologize!” Bertram stammered, utterly embarrassed as he was dragged away by the enraged maids.

"Lalemana Silver-Blade Dustiness!" Lady Marcella exclaimed, swiftly shutting the door behind them. She turned back to her daughter with a smile, but her grip on her shoe was unmistakable. The dreaded shoe—the ultimate mom weapon, “You’ve had the entire royal guard scouring the city! Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused?”

Lalemana paled and sat on the floor, curling up defensively, “I was, uh… indisposed, mom. You know… uh, lady stuff.” She fidgeted, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Without a word, Lady Marcella whacked her daughter squarely on the head with the shoe, a large bump instantly forming. “You idiot! I told you to tell me when that… stuff happens!” she scolded, waving the shoe in the air.

“I-I’m sorry!” Lalemana whimpered, clutching her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

“That’s it, young lady. You’re not leaving this room without my permission!” her mother declared, turning towards the door.

“B-but...!” Lalemana tried to protest, but quickly fell silent under her mother’s stern glare.

“Fine,” her mother relented, exasperated. “Get dressed and come up for dinner. You can talk to her—briefly—but after that, you’re under my watchful eye. Understood?”

Lalemana nodded quickly, her expression brightening, as she dashed to get dressed.

The royal guard’s council chamber buzzed with frustration as a heated discussion was taking place. The heads of the guard, dressed in elaborate armor, sat in stern debate.

One man with a twirling mustache, his polished breastplate gleaming, slammed the table, his gauntleted hand sending shockwaves through the room. “We must increase security around her!” he bellowed, his voice matching the intensity of his action. "That girl cannot be allowed to roam unchecked!" His fist pounded the table again, nearly spilling the drinks set before the other guards. “No step without supervision!”

Another man, younger and clearly less experienced, adjusted his large round glasses as he interjected, “The future of our kingdom may depend on that girl!” His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up with a determined glare. “We need to get rid of those special privileges the Dustiness family has!”

Arguments flew around the room, bouncing between heavy-laden voices, each carrying different concerns: "She's a valuable asset, not a free-spirited princess!", "If we tighten the grip, she’ll just wriggle free again!", "Her family’s privileges have gone too far. This is a national security issue!"

General Brocken, the head of the Royal Guard, sat silently at the head of the table. An old warrior, his face was marked by deep lines of wisdom and battle. His graying hair was cropped close, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation as he sat with his elbows on the table and his hands covering his mouth.

Just as he seemed ready to speak, a younger officer at the far end raised his hand with a confident smile. “General, if I may…”

General Brocken gestured to him to continue.

“I believe my colleagues here are all looking at this the wrong way. The harder we push, the harder she’ll push back.” The young officer’s armor, while plain, had a youthful shine to it.

Murmurs spread across the room.

“She's not some rabid prisoner,” the young man continued, “and increasing guards or taking away privileges will only make her more rebellious. In fact, it’ll make things worse.”

The bald major, still recovering from his encounter with the maids earlier that day, groaned as he rubbed one of the bumps on his scalp. “What do you propose then? Giving her more liberties? That’s out of the question, orders from above.”

The young man grinned confidently, clasping his hands together. “Not more liberties… the illusion of more liberties.” He stepped from his seat and paced the room, his boots clinking against the stone floor. “If my younger sister is anything to go by, teenage girls hate being watched over by grown men. They want their privacy respected. If we place a lady knight with her, she might feel less restricted, but in truth, we’d have even closer supervision.”

Several guards murmured in response:

“Maybe he has a point. It could reduce friction…”, “Or it could lead to even more trouble if they bond too closely.”, “I’m not sure. This could be risky.”

The murmurs died down as the general lifted his hand, his sharp eyes boring into the young man. “Do we have anyone capable of such a task?” his voice was gravelly.

“As a matter of fact,” the young man responded, a triumphant grin on his face, “there’s a lady knight in the lower ranks. She’s from a low-ranking noble family and around the same age as the MVP—uh, I mean Lady Lalemana.”

More murmurs followed:

“If she’s from the lower ranks, she may not be prepared for this…”, “But if she’s the right age, that could be exactly what we need.”, “Risky, but we’re running out of options…”

The general raised his hand again, silencing the room. “We’ll give your idea a chance. Call for her immediately.”

“Yes, sir!” The young man saluted, then hurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Lalemana sneaked down the quiet halls. Dressed in a pink nightgown, her bare feet made no sound as she hurried along the carpeted floors. She moved with purpose, flipping light switches on and off as she briskly made her way through the dimly lit corridors.

The residence was still, almost eerie, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards. The lamps cast soft, golden light across the hallways, highlighting portraits of past royalty and intricate tapestries.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a large set of double doors. The ornate wood, carved with the royal family’s crest, seemed to tower over her. Lalemana crouched down, peering at the narrow gap between the doors and the floor. A faint light was visible.

With a small sigh, she sat cross-legged in front of the doors and leaned forward, resting her head against the door. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice soft and tender. “How are you?”

She paused, waiting for any sign of response. There was none, but Lalemana continued speaking as though someone were right there. “I had the craziest day today. You wouldn’t believe it!” A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she scratched her chin absentmindedly. “Oh, yeah. Did you see the snowman?”

Part 3

A loud alarm woke Lalemana the next morning. 

Waving her hand in the direction of the noise, she silenced the alarm and flicked on the dim lights, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dull glow. The ceiling above her looked the same as always, ornate, with golden accents, but familiar to the point of boredom. She stretched lazily before swinging her legs out of bed. That’s when her still groggy eyes caught sight of a figure in armor standing next to her bed.

“G-good morning, milady—”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Lalemana screamed so loud it nearly rattled the walls.

“M-Milady, please! I’m your new escort! No need to be alarmed!” The lady knight, clad in armor, raised her hands in a panic, trying to defuse the situation.

But Lalemana was already out of bed, holding a sword, her hands trembling but ready to fight. “Royal guards aren’t allowed in here! You’re an assassin, a spy—or worse, some kind of pervert!” she stammered, wielding her sheathed blade.

“N-no, I swear! Your mother gave me special permission to be here!” The knight instinctively moved her hand to the hilt of her own sword, though she didn’t want to draw it.

Now fully awake, Lalemana scrutinized the intruder. The knight was a bit taller than her, with sharp, angular features that hinted at distant roots. Her almond-shaped eyes were striking, their deep brown hue contrasting with her fair but warm-toned skin. Straight black hair framed her face, with neatly cut bangs just above her eyebrows. The rest of her hair was tied back into a ponytail, the tip resting neatly on her chest over her armor. She carried herself with a calm yet disciplined air, though the faint flush of panic on her face betrayed her nervousness.

Lalemana’s eyes narrowed. “As if! My mom would never allow that! You’ve probably already gotten rid of her—poison, I bet! You’re some invading foreigner! The shape of your eyes gives it away!” she drew her glowing blade and lunged, forcing the knight to parry hastily as Lalemana moved with unexpected speed.

“Milady, I’m Daisy Arlenfelt, daughter of Baronet Arlenfelt. I’m with the Royal Guard! They told me last night that I would be escorting you—” Daisy barely managed to deflect another blow, trying not to escalate the fight.

“Lies! On the honor of the Dustiness family, I will defeat you and avenge my mother!” Lalemana shouted, raising her sword for another attack.

But before the duel could continue, a firm voice interrupted them, “Avenge me for what, Lulú?” 

Lalemana froze mid-swing, eyes wide in horror. Standing in the doorway was her mother, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Ma’am!” Daisy shouted in surprise, freezing in place.

“M-Mom?!” Lalemana echoed, wide-eyed.

Lady Marcella sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Both of you, come upstairs. We need to talk.”

After a tense explanation over breakfast, Lalemana found herself sulking at the table. Across from her, Lady Marcella sat gracefully, cutting into her meal with the composed authority of a woman who had long since mastered the art of silent scolding. Daisy stood beside Lalemana, her armor still slightly disheveled and her long black hair clearly untouched by a brush. She looked every bit like someone who had been abruptly pulled into duty, though her posture remained formal.

General Brocken arrived early, half-dragging a bleary-eyed Daisy to formally introduce her as Lalemana’s new personal escort. The general had insisted, and Lady Marcella had reluctantly agreed, on allowing Daisy entry within the family wing of the Royal Residence.

“Lady Daisy will be guarding you from now on, Lulú,” Lady Marcella announced, casually stirring the metal straw of an odd bulb shaped cup. Steam curled up from it, the bitter herbal scent filling the room. She sipped from the straw with ease, her posture relaxed but commanding, “She’s about your age and from a noble family we know. I talked with her for a while, she’s polite and capable. Do try to get along.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Daisy said, bowing slightly. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and her hurried appearance, there was a quiet dignity in her tone. “I swear, milady, to protect you with my life, as is my duty,” She knelt beside Lalemana, her speech so formal and polite it caused even the nearby maids to murmur in awe.

Lalemana, however, was less impressed. “But mooooooooooooom,” her face crumpled in frustration, “This is my only private space!” She took a big gulp from a bulb shaped cup of her own.

Daisy’s eye twitched, clearly holding back irritation, but maintaining her poise for the sake of propriety.

“And it would still be your private space if not for your antics yesterday, Lulú!” Lady Marcella replied firmly, not bothering to look up from her plate. “Lady Daisy will guard you, and that’s final!” Her knife sliced through a piece of meat with a soft snap, the sound punctuating her words. “For what it’s worth, you’ll be allowed more freedom around town with her as your escort.”

Daisy offered a soft, polite smile. “Just Daisy is fine, ma’am. There’s no need for such formality with a low-ranking noble like me.” Her gentle demeanor and respectful speech made her seem effortlessly kind, enough to make Lalemana’s mother blush a bit.

“O-of course, Daisy. If you wish,” Lady Marcella stammered slightly, clearly charmed. “Do sit with us. You arrived so early; you must not have had breakfast.”

Daisy tried to decline, but a loud growl from her stomach betrayed her. “...I would be honored, ma’am.”

After breakfast, Lalemana stormed back to her room with Daisy in tow. The sound of hammering caught her attention, and she noticed several maids and earth golems hard at work near her bedroom door.

“What is this?” Lalemana asked, her curiosity piqued.

One of the maids, her face smudged with dirt and cement, looked up. “Good morning, Lady Lalemana. We’re constructing Lady Daisy’s quarters here. Your mother’s orders.”

“You’re moving in here!?” Lalemana turned on Daisy, incredulous.

“My apologies, milady,” Daisy said with a slight bow. “I was ordered to stay close to you at all times.”

Lalemana groaned in exasperation as she entered her room.

Despite being underground, her room was far from dreary—soft carpets underfoot, plush blankets draped over a massive bed, silk curtains framing the walls, and a chandelier casting a soft glow from above. The shelves were lined with a collection of plush toys, each one carefully arranged. The closet doors were slightly ajar, revealing rows of exquisite dresses and outfits fit for a noblewoman.

But the room, luxurious as it was, had begun to feel like a cage, and with Daisy now watching her every move, it only seemed smaller.

“Hey, I know you’re a girl too, but do you really need to stand there while I’m getting dressed?” Lalemana complained, tossing her nightgown aside and reaching for her clothes.

“I-I’m so sorry!” Daisy squeaked, her face turning red as she hurriedly turned her back.

Once Lalemana finished dressing, she sat down in front of her massive hairdresser—filled with rows of beauty products. There were brushes of every shape and size, shiny combs, and a variety of makeup ranging from powders to creams. The drawers housed lipsticks, eyeshadows, and glittering nail polishes, while the countertop displayed a collection of perfumes and luxurious skincare bottles. Small, ornate containers held scented lotions and oils, each with their own delicate fragrance.

“What’s the plan today, milady?” Daisy asked after Lalemana finally finished fussing with her hair.

“Nothing for a while,” Lalemana muttered, examining her collection of makeup before slowly picking up a brush. She began applying foundation with the precision of someone who had far too much practice and too little else to do.

Lalemana’s preparation stretched on like some kind of bizarre endurance test for Daisy, who had gone from cheerful smiles to a faint grin, then to a look of barely contained frustration. By the time Lalemana reapplied her foundation for the second—or was it third?—time, Daisy was struggling to keep her eyes open.

She applied the makeup sparingly, smoothing it over her skin in such a way that it concealed imperfections while remaining almost invisible. Every step was agonizingly slow, as if she were painting fine art instead of her own face.

Daisy, by now, had nearly dozed off standing when Lalemana finally broke the silence. “Hey, what do you think of this?” She shoved her wrist under Daisy’s nose, the scent of some expensive perfume wafting through the air.

“It smells… very nice, milady,” Daisy coughed, blinking awake. She tried not to gag on the overwhelming fragrance. When General Brocken told her this was ‘one of the most important assignments in the kingdom’, she hadn’t expected watching a noblewoman put on makeup for two hours to be part of the deal.

Lalemana tilted her head, studying Daisy for a moment, she then sighed, stepping back with an exaggerated expression of dissatisfaction. “You look terrible.”

Daisy’s heart skipped a beat, a wave of embarrassment rising, but Lalemana quickly clarified, “I don’t mean that you’re ugly! If anything, you’re quite pretty. But right now, you look… well, exhausted.”

Daisy smiled politely, unsure how to respond.

Lalemana’s eyes lit up with an idea. “Here, sit down. I’ll fix you up.”

“N-no, milady, I couldn’t possibly—” Daisy’s protests were useless as Lalemana physically pushed her into the chair in front of the hairdresser.

“If you’re going to follow me around all day, you need to look your best!” she grabbed a small jar of cream, the same one she had been using on herself, “Close your eyes.”

Daisy hesitated, then complied. The cool touch of the cream was soothing, and despite her initial reluctance, she began to relax under Lalemana’s gentle, surprisingly skilled hands. The minutes slipped by in silence, the only sound the soft sweep of brushes and the occasional hum of approval. By the time the makeover was done, Daisy’s skin was glowing like she’d just come back from a vacation, and all signs of exhaustion were hidden under layers of high-quality products.

Lalemana was satisfied, the sun had climbed high in the sky, marking the approach of noon. The two made their way through the Royal Residence, their footsteps echoing in the grand halls.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need a winter coat? It’s still snowing,” Lalemana asked, glancing at Daisy with mild concern.

“I’ll be fine, milady,” Daisy responded with a soft smile, her face still glowing from the makeup. “My armor retains heat well enough.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” Lalemana said, shrugging as she opened the gate to reveal the snow-covered garden. Both girls immediately hugged themselves against the cold.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Daisy continued, “aren’t we having lunch in the residence? Where are we going?”

“My mom is busy with business affairs,” Lalemana answered, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s never around for lunch. And with you as my escort, I can wander the city a bit, right?” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “There’s a special restaurant I want to visit.”

Lalemana fished a small box from her coat and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced motion. She took a long puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted lazily upward.

The streets of Arcanletia stretched before them, wide and immaculate, bordered by grand buildings that reflected the wealth and power of the city’s elite. Tall, refined structures of polished stone and marble stood shoulder to shoulder, their windows adorned with intricate ironwork. Luxurious carriages, drawn by finely groomed horses, moved gracefully through the avenues, sharing space with the sleek trolleys that glided along on invisible tracks. Above, aqueducts wove through the city, carrying the ever-flowing holy water.

The two walked side by side, their boots crunching through the snow. On their right stretched a large park, its sprawling lawns blanketed in white. Tall trees, their bare branches laden with snow, lined the paths that cut through the park, and in the distance, small groups of nobles could be seen strolling under fur-lined cloaks. To their left, an avenue bustled with activity, the sounds of horses, trolleys, and voices blending into a harmonious din. Despite the cold, the city pulsed with life.

Lalemana puffed on her cigarette like some kind of rebellious noble while Daisy kept glancing around, trying to keep up with her.

“Milady, where are we going?” Daisy asked, her breath misting in the frigid air.

“We’re almost there,” Lalemana replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she flicked her cigarette butt into the snow. “It’s a bit out of the way, not many people know about this place.”

Sandwiched between two squat buildings, a modest stall barely stood out. The sign above the entrance was faded, the characters barely legible under years of grime. Icicles hung from the edges of the roof, and the faint scent of broth and spices permeated the air around the building. A small sliding door was the only way in, offering just enough space for two or three customers at a time. Inside, the clatter of pots and pans was nearly drowned out by the hiss of a nearby stove. A red paper lantern swayed gently in the wind.

Daisy squinted at the sign, tilting her head. “Ra-men?” she said slowly, testing the unfamiliar word.

Lalemana slid open the door, her face lighting up as the warmth from inside greeted her. “Miss! It’s been ages since you last came!” The owner, a broad-shouldered man with a towel slung over his neck, beamed from behind the counter, his voice booming.

“Way too long,” Lalemana sighed dramatically, taking off her snow-dusted hat and settling down on one of the stools. “I haven’t had my precious ramen in forever. It’s practically a crime! Oh, and I brought a guest.” She swiveled around, expecting Daisy to be beside her. Instead, the knight remained frozen at the entrance, awkwardly trying to blend into the background, “Daisy!” Lalemana barked, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “Get in here, you dummy!”

“Milady, I should stand guard—” Daisy began, her usual stoic tone masking her reluctance to enter the cramped restaurant.

Lalemana yanked her inside by the wrist. “No way! You’ll freeze to death out there. Besides, I brought you here to eat, not to stand around like a statue. I bet you’ve never even heard of ramen!”

Daisy shook her head, still uncertain. “No, milady... I haven't.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat!” Lalemana plopped down on a wooden stool and took off her gloves, excitement dancing across her face. “Two bowls! One extra spicy shrimp ramen for me, and whatever you think a newbie would like best for her.” She winked at the owner.

“Shrimp and shoyu comin’ right up!” he said, already turning back to his bubbling pots. The sounds of sizzling, chopping, and ladles scraping pots filled the air.

Daisy sat down stiffly beside Lalemana, trying her best to look composed. She was taken aback by how excited Lalemana seemed, almost childlike in her anticipation.

Moments later, two steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of them. The rich aroma of broth, garlic, and spices filled the small stall, making Daisy’s stomach growl involuntarily. She stared down at the wooden sticks placed beside the bowl, completely at a loss.

“Oh, right. You probably don’t know how to use these.” Lalemana grinned through a mouthful of noodles, speaking in between slurps. “You... haff to holff them like thiff...” She chewed, barely swallowing her food before splitting Daisy’s chopsticks. “Here, like this. Uh… mirror what I’m doing,” she took a brief pause after showing the chopsticks with her left hand.

Daisy clumsily tried to mimic Lalemana’s hand movements, fumbling with the chopsticks as her fingers slipped. Eventually, after a few failed attempts and a stubborn refusal to ask for help, she sighed. “I think I need a fork...”

Lalemana chuckled, setting down her bowl and giving the owner a knowing look. “A fork for the knight! Hurry up, we’ve got a ramen virgin over here!”

The owner laughed heartily and handed Daisy a fork. She took it with a nod of thanks, her cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment, before finally tasting the food.

Meanwhile, Lalemana devoured her bowl with the kind of zeal Daisy only imagined warriors showing in battle. She finished long before Daisy, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and sighing contentedly. “Ahh! That hit the spot!”

The owner leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Miss, I swear, I thought I was gonna go outta business without you. You’re practically payin’ for my kids’ school with all you’ve eaten here!”

Lalemana stuck her tongue out at him playfully before standing up. “You’re welcome! Now, if you’ll excuse me, nature calls.”

As she disappeared towards the back, Daisy hesitated for a moment before turning to the owner. “Where is this food from?”

He scratched his chin, brow furrowed. “Ah, now that’s a good question. I’ve heard it came from Axel, right around when the Demon King was taken down, but no one really knows for sure. Ain’t that funny? One day, it just showed up, and folks started making it. Rumor has it, though, that it’s the most popular dish in the Crimson Magic Islands. That’s probably why most folks think it’s foreign. It’s not very popular here, I think this may be the only restaurant in town.”

Daisy nodded, half-listening as the man rambled on about the origins of ramen. She was more intrigued by why Lalemana—a noble of all people—would be so addicted to such a small, humble place like this. She had so many questions, but before she could ask, Lalemana returned.

“Alright, we’re off! I’ll pay for both.”

Daisy stood abruptly. “But milady, I can—”

“Nope! My treat!” Lalemana winked and waved her hand dismissively, striding towards the door. “Come on, we’ve still got places to be.”

They briskly left the shop, their pace quickening as Lalemana headed straight for a waiting trolley.

“Milady, why don’t we take the subway?” Daisy pointed at an entrance of the relatively new Arcanletia Subway System, “It’s not as cold.”

The cold had set in deeper now, Daisy’s breath clearly visible as she spoke, “It doesn’t pass through where we’re going,” Lalemana denied her, as she boarded the trolley.

“We’re not supposed to go beyond Grand Central, milady,” Daisy warned, eyeing the route map.

“Relax, we’re getting off before that.” Lalemana’s gaze shifted to the window, her expression softening as the snow-covered city passed by. The trolley clattered over a bridge above a frozen river, marking the boundary between the old town and the new part of Arcanletia. The ancient, worn stone buildings of the old city gave way to sleek, modern architecture as they crossed the divide. Daisy watched the stations pass, silently counting them, determined to keep Lalemana from going any further than allowed.

“Here. This is our stop,” Lalemana said a while later, standing up as the trolley slowed.

They stepped off into a shabby neighborhood, far removed from the gleaming streets they had just traveled through. The streets were packed with people despite the cold—stall vendors calling out their wares, children running through the alleys, and workers in shabby clothes hurrying past. A group of old men huddled around a barrel fire, rubbing their hands together for warmth. Overhead, laundry lines sagged under the weight of snow-covered clothes, while stray cats darted between piles of debris.

“This place... doesn’t look safe,” Daisy muttered, a hand firmly on the hilt of her sword. She wasn’t used to seeing this side of the city. Not at all.

Her cheeks reddened from the cold as she hurried after Lalemana, who marched directly toward a large building.

The faded sign above its entrance was unreadable, its letters worn away by years of neglect. People bustled in and out, most of them dressed plainly, their faces etched with fatigue.

“What are we doing here?” Daisy asked, her breath visible in the chill air.

Lalemana’s tone grew serious, the playfulness gone. “We’re here to help.”

“Oh, not you again...” a receptionist buried her face in her hands before peeking through her fingers as soon as Lalemana passed through the door, “Please stop coming here, miss. This place is not suitable for a noblewoman like you.”

“Hey, it’s not like you have staff to spare,” Lalemana remarked, matter-of-factly. “I learn from my mistakes—it won’t go like last time... I hope.” She whispered the last part so softly that only Daisy, standing close by, barely caught it.

The receptionist sighed, clearly unimpressed. “Ugh… well, they've been asking about you almost every day,” she muttered, standing up and gesturing for them to follow. “Come, just… try not to make a mess this time, alright?”

Daisy followed; her curiosity piqued by the growing chatter echoing through the hallways. She saw people dressed in casual clothes moving about, accompanied by nurses bustling in and out of rooms. Is this a hospital? she wondered.

After a few minutes, the receptionist stopped in front of a door. “Wait here,” she said before slipping inside. Moments later, her stern demeanor vanished as her tone shifted to one of warmth, “Hey, everyone! There’s someone here for you!”

Daisy heard voices within the room cheer in response. As Lalemana stepped inside, she was immediately wrapped in a tight hug by a wizard, one missing his right hand.

Scanning the room, Daisy saw a diverse group of bedridden veterans: knights, soldiers, priests, more wizards, and further classes, each with their own unique injuries. Some sat in quiet conversation, others were adjusting prosthetics or engaging in quiet hobbies. Toward the back, a man with bandages covering his eyes leaned over and asked his neighbor, “What’s going on?”

“It’s nice to see you all again!” Lalemana said, her voice full of heart. “How’ve you all been without me?”

“The food’s been better!” a voice called from across the room, triggering a burst of laughter from the group.

A knight with his arm in a sling chimed in, “Yeah, and nobody’s tried to help by tripping into our lunch trays lately!”

Lalemana's face flushed. “H-Hey! That only happened once!”

“Three times, actually,” corrected the wizard she had hugged moments ago, sparking even more laughter.

Daisy, still standing near the doorway, tugged on Lalemana’s sleeve, her voice low but urgent. “Milady, what is this?”

“This,” Lalemana said, gesturing broadly to the room, “is a rehabilitation clinic. All these people here are members of the Royal Army. They were injured in the line of duty.”

“Milady, do you have to do community service?” Daisy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Lalemana gave a small chuckle. “You’re not the first to ask that. Do I really come off as that vain?” She cast a wry glance at Daisy, “This is something I do out of my own choice,”  she then raised her voice to address the room. “Everyone, this is Daisy. She’s my new escort.”

“You better not treat her like the asshole before!” called a bearded man in the back, who was playing checkers with a gladiator, a hearing device perched on his right ear.

Lalemana turned a little red, but she waved off glares aimed at Daisy. “No worries, she’s nice. Don’t scare her off.” She walked back to the wizard she had hugged earlier, a soft smile on her lips.

“Lean, how’s the prosthetic treating you?” She gestured to a mechanical hand resting on a nearby table.

The wizard gave her a sheepish smile. “Still clumsy with my left hand. I have trouble getting it on by myself.”

“I’ll help.” Lalemana grabbed the arm gently and placed it over his stump. “I’ll hold it, and you tighten the straps. Being left-handed isn’t so bad. It’s been an advantage for me in more ways than one.”

As they worked together, it became clear Lalemana was guiding him through something she had practiced. Her actions were careful, precise, but there was an air of someone who had learned from a guidebook rather than real experience.

After a few minutes, Lean was flexing his new hand and smiling appreciatively. “Thanks. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“You’ll be able to do it yourself soon enough,” Lalemana reassured him. “But don’t hesitate to ask for help when you need it.”

“That armor… you're from the Royal Guard, aren’t you?” a female priest suddenly asked, her face partially covered in bandages. Her one visible eye tracked Daisy as she stood awkwardly at the edge of the room.

“Y-yes,” Daisy replied, startled by the directness of the question.

“Must be nice,” the priest continued, her tone dripping with bitterness. “While we’re out there risking life and limb, you get to hang out with nobles, sipping tea and eating cake.”

“Hey, no fighting here!” another patient interrupted from across the room, but the priest ignored them.

“No, it’s fine,” she muttered, the sarcasm thick in her voice. “After all, thanks to us, there’s no fighting here, right? While your lot lounges in luxury, my friends are dying out there!” Her eye brimmed with tears, and she stormed out of the room and leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.

“You should leave the armor with the receptionist, Daisy,” Lalemana suggested gently, her voice soft but firm. “Let’s just say the Royal Guard doesn’t have the best reputation here.”

Lalemana busied herself helping the other veterans, assisting one woman missing an arm to apply makeup—an activity that turned surprisingly cheerful as they joked about how difficult eyeliner could be even with two hands. Meanwhile, Daisy watched in silent awe as Lalemana moved from person to person with a practiced ease, her clumsiness and awkward charm shining through but never overshadowing her sincerity.

Hours passed as she worked, and Daisy’s sharp hearing tuned into a conversation at the far end of the room. Two old warriors sat over a checkers board, speaking in low tones as they moved their pieces.

“Got any news from our unit?” one asked, moving a piece defensively.

The other man sighed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Got a letter from Andreas. Said they had to retreat again. That damn Magus is tearing through the south.”

“Aamon?” the first man replied, his brow furrowed as he moved his pieces offensively. “They’re cutting us off slowly… like they’re choking us from the south. I just hope the boys and girls there can hold the line until—”

“Daisy!” Lalemana’s shout broke through the room, snapping Daisy’s attention back. “We’re heading to physiotherapy. Help those missing legs move up.” She stood holding the hand of a woman about ten years older, her dark hair was pulled back, revealing deep circles under her eyes, a prosthetic leg where her right leg should’ve been.

“Y-yes, milady,” Daisy replied, hurrying over to assist.

Part 4

After leaving the room, most veterans opted to continue on their own, some using crutches while others leaned against the walls for support. Lalemana watched them briefly before using the moment to stretch, trying to ease the weariness in her muscles. The sound of hurried footsteps broke the quiet.

"Hey-hey-hey!" A priest suddenly appeared, his tone as obnoxious as ever. "You’re finally back! It’s been a while!"

“Oh hi, Arthur—” Lalemana began, but before she could finish, Daisy swiftly stepped in front of her, pushing Lalemana behind her while drawing her sword on the unsuspecting priest.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” Daisy’s voice was firm, but her hands shook slightly as she pointed the blade toward Arthur.

He froze, his smile fading as he raised his hands defensively. “Whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Who’s this girl?”

“Daisy!?” Lalemana shouted, bewildered.

“I-I was told not to let any members of the Axis Church near you, milady!” Daisy stammered, visibly shaken. “Stand back! We’re leaving, now!”

Lalemana sighed, softly placing her hand on Daisy’s sword, gently forcing it down. “Arthur may be a creepy, disgusting, obnoxious and virgin Axis Priest, but he’s harmless. And he's here to help, just like us.”

Arthur, although looking deeply offended by her comments, puffed out his chest and raised a fist to the sky. “That’s right! As a proud messenger of Lady Aqua’s divine word, I’m here to aid her flock in their times of greatest need!” He struck a dramatic pose, hands raised in reverence.

Daisy, still tense, frowned. “I-I was ordered to protect milady from your cult’s… influence,” she said, her confidence wavering.

“Influence!?” Arthur’s voice boomed with exaggerated righteousness. “We, the Axis Church, have done nothing but help those who bravely defend this country!” He leaned closer, his round glasses glinting ominously as he got in Daisy’s face, causing her to blush in confusion.

“I-I…” Daisy stuttered, trying to find her words, her gaze dropping as her voice became small. “I was just… following orders…”

Arthur took the opportunity to drive the point home, leaning in even closer. “And do you have any evidence, any proof, that I, a high up of the sacred Axis Church, have ever committed any misdeed?” His voice dripped with self-righteousness.

“Well, no, but—” Daisy tried to answer, her voice barely audible now, her shoulders slumping under the weight of his accusations.

“Of course not!” Arthur cut her off, his tone scolding. “You drew your blade on someone completely innocent!” His words were met with a huff, clearly pleased with himself.

Lalemana, standing awkwardly to the side, tried to intervene. “Arthur, come on, let’s not—”

But Arthur waved her off dramatically. “No, no! It’s unforgivable!” He turned his back on Daisy, covering his face with one hand in mock anguish. “Only because of our mutual friend here will I let this grievous insult slide. But if it were just the two of us, young lady, you’d be licking my toes right about now!”

Daisy’s expression twisted from embarrassment to frustration, her teeth grinding together audibly. “I-I’m very sorry! This won’t happen again,” she muttered, her head practically bowing in apology.

Arthur, still basking in his perceived superiority, reached over and smacked Daisy on the back of the head. “Instead of letting that pervy body of yours run wild, you should focus on nurturing your brain—OW!”

His triumphant speech was cut short as Lalemana delivered a well-placed punch to his liver. Arthur crumpled, clutching his abdomen as he gasped for breath.

“Stop bullying her,” Lalemana scolded, before turning to Daisy. “Come on, Daisy. Let’s get out of here.”

In a large auditorium, veterans missing legs were scattered across the space, each with their own struggles. Volunteers and clinic staff bustled about offering support as some veterans navigated parallel bars, leaning heavily on the metal rails as beads of sweat dripped from their brows, others fared slightly better, managing with crutches as they hobbled around with determined expressions.

Staff moved about offering guidance, while both Axis and Eris Church members moved about. Despite their best intentions, the rivalry between the two churches was on full display.

"Step aside, I’ll handle this," an Eris priest huffed, standing squarely in front of an Axis nun who was assisting a veteran.

"I had this first!" the Axis nun snapped back, stubbornly pulling the veteran in her direction.

The veteran in question awkwardly glanced between the two, unsure of who to choose, while Lalemana watched the chaos unfold with mild amusement.

She stood near besides the woman she was aiding prior, as she practiced walking along a set of parallel bars. The woman, in her mid-thirties, had lost one leg below the knee, but with every step she took now, her movements were growing steadier.

"That's it!" Lalemana cheered. "You could barely stand last time I saw you—now look at you!"

Panting, she managed a weary smile. "It’s still hard without help, but… yeah, I’m getting there," she shifted her weight onto Lalemana’s shoulder without even asking, like it had become second nature for them. “Mind helping me sit?”

As Lalemana helped her to a nearby bench, Daisy’s gaze wandered around the room. It was clear she’d never encountered anything like this before. Despite technically being part of the Royal Army, the sight of soldiers in recovery was foreign to her—she had never given much thought to what happened to those wounded in battle.

Meanwhile, a piano played a simple melody, adding a peaceful, if slightly off-key, backdrop to the scene.

“How have things been going, Arthur?” Lalemana asked, as the priest approached again. She lowered her voice, ensuring the veterans were out of earshot.

Arthur shrugged, crossing his arms. “Up and down, honestly. Some people from last time have gone home, but new people keep coming in. There’s no rest around here.” He glanced across the room, gesturing toward an older man with a long beard and a cane. “See that guy over there? That’s Father Johnny. He’s the one who started this whole thing—got the Eris church involved, blacmai—I mean roped in some nobles for funding. Without him, these people would be in a real mess.”

Lalemana watched Father Johnny for a moment, a flicker of admiration crossing her face. “Yeah, I’ve seen him before,” she said softly, reminiscing about her own history here—specifically, the time she first met Arthur a few weeks prior.

The conversation was interrupted by Arthur rummaging through his pockets. “Oh, right—check this out.” He pulled out a small, folded pamphlet, which was immediately blocked by Daisy’s sword, gleaming dangerously close to Arthur’s hand.

“If you hand her a recruitment form, I will slice it—and any body part in its vicinity!” Daisy snapped.

Arthur stumbled back, holding up the piece of paper. “It’s just a pamphlet, geez! Relax!”

He carefully opened the paper, revealing an innocent flyer. “We’ve got the annual Axis Pilgrimage to visit the Sapphire Spirit coming up,” he explained, puffing out his chest with pride. “Thought she might want to see it.”

“THE WHAT!?” Lalemana shoved Daisy aside with surprising force, eyes wide with curiosity. “The Axis Church goes to see the Sapphire Spirit!?”

Arthur nodded sagely. “Naturally! The Sapphire Spirit is obviously a manifestation of Lady Aqua in this world. Every good Axis follower makes the pilgrimage at least once in their life.”

“When?!” Lalemana grabbed Arthur by the collar, pulling him close until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

“Urghh—” Arthur wheezed, struggling to breathe. “In… in the middle of summer! It’s the only time traveling deep south is safe! I-I’ll be leading the congregation this year—could you loosen your grip a bit?—and, uh, this might be the last pilgrimage for a while. The Demon Queen’s army has been making advances in that region, it could get cut off—"

Lalemana snatched the pamphlet from his hands and walked away without another word, leaving Arthur and Daisy dumbfounded.

After a few more hours of helping, it was time to head back to the royal residence—Daisy had strict orders not to let Lalemana stay out after dark, “Milady, we must get going.”

Lalemana nodded absently, her eyes lingering on the way the late afternoon sunlight bathed the windows in a soft glow.

After a round of goodbyes, they made their way back to the trolley station. The streets outside the clinic seemed to come alive as the cold night deepened. Restaurants and street stalls lit by warm golden lanterns lined the roads, each puff of steam from cooking food contrasting sharply with the frosty air. Merchants called out, while children, bundled in layers, chased each other around with bright laughter.

"Wait up!" Lalemana suddenly halted, her eyes drawn to a nearby food stall. Daisy glanced nervously at the sky, noting the sun dipping lower.

“Milady, if we don’t make it back before dark, I’ll be in trouble!” Daisy protested, grabbing Lalemana’s wrist in a futile attempt to pull her along. Instead, a warm bun was shoved into her mouth.

"Arcan buns," Lalemana declared proudly, grabbing one for herself from the small paper bag. "Tasty, aren’t they?" She smirked, already halfway to the trolley that had just arrived.

Daisy, with no choice but to follow, took a bite. The soft, steaming dough and rich filling instantly melted on her tongue. It really is tasty...

Still, the thought of being late gnawed at her, and she anxiously bobbed her knees up and down on the trolley seat as they rode back. I can’t lose this job! she fretted, stealing a glance at Lalemana, who had already dozed off beside her, head gently leaning against the window.

I hope the subway gets expanded soon, it’ll make moving through the city much easier, Daisy thought as she wished the trolley would go faster.

When they finally arrived at the station near the Royal Residence, the sun had all but set. Daisy shot to her feet, practically dragging Lalemana by the wrist as they sprinted back. She cursed under her breath as they dodged pedestrians and barely managed to avoid a lamppost.

By the time they burst through the grand entrance of the residence, both were gasping for breath. Daisy checked the clock and exhaled in relief. "We made it... just in time," she panted, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, great work," Lalemana replied between breaths, patting Daisy on the back, already making her way toward the Dustiness family wing.

As they neared her quarters, one of the maids approached Lalemana, insisting she eat dinner. “Milady, surely you must be hungry after such a long day.”

"I’m full, thanks," Lalemana replied, still thinking of the buns, brushing off the maid’s concerns. “I’ll just take a bath and head to bed.” She headed straight for her bedroom, Daisy trailing behind.

Noticing that Daisy’s quarters, just outside her own room, had been completed, Lalemana stopped for a moment. The small space had all the basics: a bed, nightstand, closet, and desk.

Lalemana entered her bath with only a white towel covering her. The large bath was deep and filled with steaming water, surrounded by smooth stone tiles and wooden accents. The warm air rose in swirls, filling the room. Lalemana lowered herself into the water, her body sinking slowly into the warmth.

“Ahhhh…” she sighed in bliss, her head tipping back as she felt the steam work its magic on her tired muscles. Tilting her head back, eyes closed—until she caught sight of a figure behind her.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lalemana shrieked, jumping to her feet and frantically clutching her towel to her chest. “What the—?!”

“Milady! It’s me!” Daisy yelped in response, also desperately holding onto the towel barely covering her body.

Lalemana blinked, her pulse still racing. "What are you doing here!?"

“I-I’m sorry, milady, but I was ordered to watch over you... even in these… situations…” Daisy stammered, trying to avert her eyes.

Lalemana sighed, sinking back into the water and turning her back to Daisy. “Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and get in. You’ll catch a cold just standing there.”

Reluctantly, Daisy obeyed, sliding into the water on the opposite side of the bath. They sat in awkward silence for a while, the gentle splash of water the only sound between them. Lalemana, still turned away, quietly scrubbed her arms, while Daisy focused on washing herself, her hands trembling slightly from nerves.

Eventually, Lalemana got up, wrapping her towel tightly around her as she moved toward the door. “Don’t stay too long. You’ll get dizzy,” she said curtly before exiting the bath.

By the time Daisy returned to the bedroom, Lalemana was seated at her dresser, applying her nightly creams. Daisy grabbed her folded clothes from the nearby chair, but before she could slip out unnoticed, Lalemana spoke.

“Wait a moment, Daisy,” She kept her eyes fixed on the mirror. “I couldn’t help but notice you don’t have any bags in your room. Don’t tell me you don’t have clean clothes?”

“U-uhm, yes, milady. They haven’t brought my things yet,” Daisy admitted.

Without a word, Lalemana stood, moving to her wardrobe and pulling out several nightgowns. “Try one of these. They might be tight for you, but it’ll work for tonight.” She thrust them toward Daisy, who hesitated, her face flushed.

Daisy’s face flushed. “Milady, I can’t possibly—”

“You’ve been wearing the same clothes since last night,” Lalemana interrupted, holding the gowns out firmly. “It’s not as if I’m short on them. Just try one.”

Eventually, Daisy managed to slip into one, though it was tight around her larger frame. Lalemana, paying no mind, gestured for her to sit on the bed. Taking a hairbrush, she began gently working through Daisy’s tangled hair. The strokes were careful, and for the first time that day, the atmosphere felt peaceful.

“I bet you’ve heard some awful things about me from the Royal Guard,” Lalemana started softly, continuing to brush. Daisy remained silent for a moment before nodding.

“They all hate me,” Lalemana sighed, untangling a knot in Daisy’s hair. “Most think having a constant guard around me is a waste of time and resources. Honestly, I agree.”

Daisy thought quietly, reflecting on the day. Why does she need such heavy guardship? She wondered, recalling how none of her superiors ever answered. Lalemana just seemed like a normal girl.

“You’re the first knight to say anything other than bark orders in years,” Lalemana continued, the hint of sadness creeping into her voice. “The recent ones didn’t even bother with introductions.”

She tapped Daisy’s shoulder, signaling that she was done. Daisy opened her mouth to say something but stopped when she saw Lalemana already tucked under her blankets.

“Good night, Daisy. Try to rest, okay?” Lalemana said, her back to her.

“Good night, milady,” Daisy replied, leaving the room quietly.

A while later, a faint noise interrupted Daisy as she was dozing off. Someone was moving quietly down the hall. She opened her door, peeking out just in time to see Lalemana silently walking toward the stairs. Intrigued, she followed.

Lalemana moved swiftly through the dark halls of the Royal Residence, her destination clear. Daisy, unfamiliar with the building’s layout, struggled to keep up but didn’t let herself lose sight of her. They eventually reached a large door adorned with the royal family’s crest.

Lalemana sat cross-legged in front of it and talked to herself, for nearly an hour.

Part 5

A few weeks later.

“Lulú, open this door!” Lady Marcella commanded, her fist banging on the wooden door with a force that belied her elegant appearance. She stood in front of her daughter’s chambers, dressed in a gown fit for the ball they were soon to attend. The rich burgundy fabric clung to her in all the right places, with her corset enhancing her already formidable figure. “Stop being such a stubborn, girl. You have to come too! This is an important event; you can’t just lock yourself in there.”

“I don’t wanna!” came Lalemana’s muffled, petulant voice from the other side. “Everyone up there hates me anyway!”

“That’s not true, milady!” Daisy, standing beside Lady Marcella, chimed in. Despite the formal occasion, her armor was neatly fitted, and her hair had been tied back in a sleek ponytail, giving her a composed, polished look.

Lady Marcella was not amused, her tone turned sharper, the patience in her voice evaporating, “I’m not playing around here! If you don’t open this door, I’ll have Daisy knock it down and drag you upstairs if necessary!”

“Ma’am!?” Daisy gasped, horrified by the idea, “Please don’t make me—”

“I’ll also take away your hairdresser!” Lady Marcella added the final threat. “You have until the count of three. One!” She started counting, her voice firm.

“Two!”

Daisy looked to the door helplessly, her armored feet shifting uncomfortably on the carpet.

Just as Lady Marcella took a deep breath to call “Three!”, there was the sound of a lock clicking, the door creaked open ever so slightly. From behind it, Lalemana appeared, looking every bit as if she were being marched to her doom.

The dress she wore was a soft, icy blue that was both regal and understated, with layers of flowing fabric that billowed softly as she moved. It was elegant, and painstakingly tight at the waist thanks to the corset that cinched her figure dramatically, pushing up her generous bust. Her neckline was adorned with an ornate collar holding the Dustiness family crest, identical to her mother’s. Around her neck and wrists, delicate silver jewelry shimmered—dangling earrings that caught the light, bracelets stacked elegantly, and a few rings adorning her fingers.

“Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms puffing her chest. “But I’m making sure I don’t enjoy it at all!”

“Stop talking nonsense,” her mother retorted, stepping back to let Lalemana pass. “This is a great chance for you to socialize with people your age.”

Lalemana’s eyes darkened, and she shot a pointed glare at her mother. “There’s only one person I care to socialize with,” she muttered bitterly as she swept past, “and she’s not coming!”

Daisy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could follow, Lady Marcella gently grabbed her arm. “Give her some space,” she advised quietly. “Watch over her, but from a distance tonight. Let her be.”

The grand ballroom on the third floor of the Royal Residence glittered under the warm glow of chandeliers, which sparkled like stars in the night sky. The vast space was lined with towering windows draped in lush velvet curtains. Polished marble floors reflected the light, the air was thick with wealth, and everyone present seemed eager to flaunt it.

Around the room, nobles from every corner of the kingdom—and even a few from beyond—paraded their extravagant outfits. The men boasted tailored suits in outlandish colors, some with capes that seemed designed more for dramatic effect than warmth. One man even twirled a cane with a diamond-encrusted handle while adjusting his monocle. As for the women, their gowns were marvels of silk, lace, and impracticality, with hairstyles so high and elaborate that some looked like they were trying to compete with the chandeliers.

In one corner, a small band played a delicate tune on string instruments, providing a soothing backdrop to the bustling scene. The crowd mingled with drinks in hand, waiters offering trays laden with sparkling beverages and dainty hors d'oeuvres.

But amidst all the opulence and chatter, Lalemana stood out for entirely different reasons. Leaning against the wall, a sizable cup of alcohol gripped firmly in her hand, her face wore an expression that said, ‘Come near me, and you'll regret it.’

"Lulú!" Lady Marcella appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her cheeks and pulling them into a wide, forced smile. "Stop looking so gloomy and make some friends! Some of these guests came from the farthest reaches of the country and beyond just to meet you."

"Mmmmmmmmmm!" Lalemana's attempt to protest was muffled by her mother's iron grip on her cheeks.

"No buts, young lady!" her mother hissed, her eyes flashing with a fierceness that could make a Demon Queen's general think twice. "Or do you want to make me angry?"

Lalemana's eyes widened in fear. "A-alright, alright!" she yelped as soon as her mother let go, downing her drink in a single gulp before stomping toward tables filled with sweets.

"Good evening," a young man, practically glowing with princely charm, approached. His golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, and his blue eyes sparkled with the kind of confidence only a nobleman accustomed to admiration could possess. "You must be Lady Lalemana."

Lalemana blinked at him, seemingly mesmerized—but not by his handsome features. "Oh my gosh," she muttered, her eyes fixating on something else entirely. "Where did you get that cake?"

The nobleman, holding a small, perfectly frosted cupcake, hesitated. "Oh, um, there’s a bunch in the table over there." He pointed to a table behind him, clearly hoping to continue the conversation, but Lalemana had already swept past him.

Within moments, Lalemana was on her third—or her fourth?—cupcake, her face smeared with cream. "These are amazing," she mumbled through a mouthful of frosting, reaching for a drink.

“I’m Patrick Meade Wilhelm, I got to say I’ve heard plenty of you, Lady Dustiness,” he bowed elegantly, introducing himself.

“I haven’t heard about you at all,” she said stuffing another cupcake.

“Of course, someone of her standing hasn’t heard of someone like you!” a second nobleman suddenly appeared, “I am Edward Ford Kuiper, my family... uh... we own a very large library, and I—”

Patrick glared at him. “A library? Is that supposed to impress her?”

Edward’s face went crimson, and he fumbled with his sleeves. “Well, it’s a very large library! We have, uh, books about, um... swords?”

“You don’t even know what books you own, do you?” Patrick sneered.

“I do too! We’ve got... literature. A lot of it!” Edward shot back, though it was clear he was grasping at straws.

Lalemana watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes, clearly unimpressed. She slowly turned away while the two noblemen began bickering like children, looking for her next snack.

Just as she was about to make a clean getaway, another figure popped up out of nowhere.

A boy of about 12, standing nervously in his oversized attire. His suit, a dark blue lined with gold trim, practically swallowed him. His face was flush, and his hands fidgeted as he approached.

“G-good evening, Lady Dustiness,” he stammered. “M-my name is—I am Alphonse Russo Chase, youngest son of Marquess Chase... um, may I have a dance with you?”

Lalemana stared at him, cocking her head in surprise. "Hey little man, how old are you?"

“T-twelve, milady…”

She glanced around for a moment, leaned in close, and whispered, “And why did you come over here?”

The boy glanced sideways nervously before pointing over to a woman who was obviously his mother. She was standing on the far side of the ballroom, giving her son a hopeful thumb-up and encouraging nods.

“Oh,” Lalemana sighed. She placed a hand on his head, ruffling his already neat hair. “Tell your mom you tried. That’ll get you through this evening, yeah?”

Lady Chase again? What’s the problem with that woman, that’s the third of her sons she’s tried to pair me with, and they only get younger! Lalemana thought as she saw Lady Chase, who instantly covered her face with a fan.

The boy nodded vigorously, grateful for the out, and practically sprinted back to his mother’s side.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, two older noblemen were having a not-so-subtle conversation about strategy.

“She’s clearly avoiding the younger ones, Marcus,” whispered Lord Frederick Barnes Melodio, a man in his thirties with a beard so thick it looked like it might be alive. “It’s time for an experienced touch. I’ll woo her with stories of my grand adventures!”

“You mean the time you accidentally fell into a well?” Marcus Bons Coleslaw, a slightly younger noble, whispered back. “You’ve never been on an adventure in your life, Freddy.”

“It’s called embellishment, Marcus! Learn it!”

Both men approached Lalemana, who was now eyeing a fruit tart with suspicious intensity.

“Lady Dustiness,” Frederick began, puffing out his chest. “Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off a pack of wild wolves with nothing but a spoon?”

Lalemana blinked. “I’m pretty sure spoons aren’t for fighting.”

“It was a special spoon,” Frederick corrected, his face deadly serious.

“Oh really?” she deadpanned. “What did it do, ladle them to death?”

Frederick hesitated, then blurted out, “Yes, actually—!”

Lalemana’s expression didn’t change as she took a bite of the fruit tart and casually walked away mid-story.

Frederick stood there, dumbfounded, as Marcus patted him on the back. “Tough break, old friend.”

The chaos only escalated as multiple noblemen started to gather around her, each more desperate than the last. Some tried to compliment her beauty (and not-so-subtly glance at her chest), others boasted about their estates, and one unfortunate soul dropped a glass of wine all over her shoes while nervously asking for her favorite color.

And then came the dancing.

Lalemana, now slightly tipsy and resigned to her fate, agreed to a dance just to get away from her reverse harem. The first suitor, Gregory Rod Lilac, was a competent dancer but couldn’t stop talking about his "legendary" swordsmanship, despite clearly having never held a sword in battle.

Before she could escape, another nobleman swooped in, practically snatching her out of Gregory’s hands mid-spin. This one was Victor Clever Oxton, and he wasted no time twirling her around, boasting about his collection of rare gemstones.

“Oh, please,” interrupted the noblewoman who cut in next, “gemstones are old news. What about my rare magical creatures? Surely, you’d prefer that?”, she said as she strongly intertwined fingers with her.

Lalemana blinked in confusion. “Huh… what are you doing?” she said looking at her suspiciously.

“I heard about you at church, my name is Melissa Smedius Lindholm,” the noblewoman said with a wink, “You should know that at the Axis Church we’re open minded!”

“If I may ask, from whom did you hear about me?” Lalemana tried to loosen the grip on her hand, but Melissa just grabbed her by the waist strongly.

“From my priest, he said wonderful things about you!” Melissa replied with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

I’ll have a stern talk with Arthur next time I see him! She thought, but before she could say more, she was forcefully pried away by someone else.

“Lady Lalemana, may I have this dance?” Edward Kuiper had swooped back into the fray, offering his hand, that after essentially kicking Melissa away.

Lalemana was swept, but before the song had even ended, another noble slipped in between them. “I believe it’s my turn now,” he declared with a bow.

Kuiper looked flustered. “Excuse me, I wasn’t done yet!”

“Yes, you were,” he grinned, snatching Lalemana’s hand. She barely had time to process it before she was whirled away into another waltz. Before the next spin, Trevor Cameron awkwardly elbowed his way in, mumbling, “Uh, sorry, my turn.”

As the dance progressed, the nobles became more aggressive, each one more desperate to impress her. Ferdinand boasted about his lavish estates, while Alfred went on about his ‘unparalleled fencing skills.’ Trevor nervously mentioned that he had recently purchased a ‘very large octopus.’ Each noble’s bragging became more absurd by the minute. Lalemana found herself passed around like a prized trophy. One nobleman even tried to impress her by lifting her into the air, only to nearly drop her in the process.

An hour dragged on, Lalemana going from one partner to the next, each nobleman—or noblewoman—whisking her away before she could even catch her breath. Lalemana’s had become a mess, her makeup smudged, and she was so exhausted she could barely stand. When the next suitor approached her with an eager grin, she raised her hand and said, “Please let me rest for a bit…”

The poor man looked heartbroken, but she couldn’t care less. She made her way to a corner, finally free from the gauntlet of suitors, and collapsed into a chair, wiping the sweat from her forehead, with a relieved groan, she kicked off her shoes, letting the cool marble soothe her aching feet.

Slumped back, she glanced down at her once-elegant dress, now wrinkled and slightly askew from all the movement. A lock of hair clung stubbornly to the side of her face, as if mocking her for even trying to maintain composure.

“Lady Dustiness, perhaps I could offer you a foot rub—” came the voice of yet another suitor.

“Do not touch my feet,” Lalemana quickly interrupted, “But I wouldn’t say no to a drink.”

Before she could finish, several voices chimed in: “Anything for you, Lady Dustiness!” “I’ll crush the grapes myself!” “The finest drink, coming right up!”

She cringed at the eager mob assembled before her. “Just bring me the strongest drink you can find,” she commanded, waving them off. In an instant, the group scattered.

Daisy, watching the whole scene from afar, had to stifle laughter. As if Lalemana was getting some well-deserved comeuppance. This was turning into a far more entertaining night than she'd expected.

As Daisy wandered through the crowd, keeping an eye on Lalemana, her sharp ears couldn’t help but pick up on the conversation of some of the wealthiest nobles. 

“How much do you think he’ll gouge us this time?” said a short, bald man with a walrus moustache and a monocle, his belly straining against his coat. 

“Our taxes are already outrageous; I can barely afford my five villas!” added another man with a pointy beard, his top hat casting a sharp shadow over his face. “Raise the taxes on the commoners. Not only are we paying for this war, but it's our soldiers and our weapons fighting it. We deserve a break.”

“An envoy is being sent to Elroad soon to squeeze more tributes from them, if only the pr—” A noblewoman cut in, her voice hoarse with age, but Daisy couldn’t hear the rest as the music swelled.

“I don’t see why we can’t get tributes from the Crimson Magic Islands,” said another nobleman, taller and thin with a hawk-like nose and gaudy rings on his fingers. “Those edgy dorks are richer than half the continent! They could spare a little pocket change.”

“The last time we tried, they sent a storm that ravaged the coast,” a man in high-grade armor replied, his voice heavy with authority. He had the bearing of a seasoned general, his stern face marked with deep lines that matched the gray streaks in his short-cropped hair. “We’re still paying reparations to the Analess Republic for the damages. Not worth the headache.” 

“Why is that girl still here, anyway?” walrus moustache spoke again, casting a glance toward Lalemana, as she was quickly downing the drinks a group of pretenders brought, “Isn’t she old enough by now? Why are we wasting precious resources on her? Send her off, let her fulfill her duty.” 

Daisy’s stomach tightened; she leaned in closer.

“The king is unwilling to risk her, the Dustiness family holds too much influence over him,” the general said, his tone carrying an edge of frustration. “Believe me, nearly everyone in high command agrees with you, but the king remains stubborn. He insists on waiting for ‘things to unfold naturally.’”

“Bah!” scoffed the older woman, her wrinkled hand waving dismissively. “Marry her off at least. Maybe she’ll pop out the one we need! That’d solve everything, wouldn’t it?”

“We can’t keep wasting time. It’s not as if we’re winning,” another woman chimed in, her dress elaborate, but her face lined with worry. Her silver hair was piled high in a tower of curls, making her look even more severe. “If anything, we’re being pushed back, and that girl’s doing nothing but twirling in dresses.” She narrowed her eyes at the general, “Isn’t that right?” 

“Afraid so,” the general replied, his voice betraying a note of unease. “We’ve been losing ground in the south. Ferrantia’s practically next door to the frontlines. The holy water only helps so much, we can only move a limited amount after all.”

“My daughter’s stationed in Xeloria,” pointy beard chimed in. “She told me the Demon Queen’s Army has been targeting the railroads. Troops further south are in danger—plus, I have, uh, certain investments in that region…” He trailed off, adjusting his collar nervously. 

“Luckily, the manatite mines near Ilyora are nearly depleted. My company saw to that,” walrus moustache said smugly, stroking his whiskers, “But further south…” 

“My sources—,” another man added, leaning forward conspiratorially. His sleek appearance, from his oiled hair to the gleaming rings on his fingers, marked him as someone who traded in secrets. He was an information magnate, the owner of several newspapers. “—Tell me yet another expedition to capture the Sapphire Spirit failed miserably. General, care to comment? That puts us in quite the pickle, doesn’t it?” 

The general’s face paled. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “It’s… complicated. Whatever protects that spirit is absurdly strong. We sent one of our best squads, and they brought everything the ritual required—the finest alcohol, sweets, you name it. But the spirit wouldn’t budge. Its protector… well, let’s just say they didn’t leave much room for negotiation.”

“Just send the girl,” said the silver-haired noblewoman, her lips curling into a sneer. “If she convinces the spirit, great. If she fails, we lose nothing of value. If things are as dire as you all say, we’re running out of time.” 

“We must be firm with the king,” added walrus moustache, his voice hardening. “If he wants us to keep paying for this war, then let that girl do the duty she was born for. Or at least have Archduke Dustiness heavily increase his quota, where is he anyway?” 

Daisy’s stomach churned, a mix of anger and frustration bubbling up inside her. She clenched her fists tightly, then redirected her gaze toward Lalemana, who was being approached by a group of young noblewomen. With a determined step, Daisy moved to rejoin her, hoping to overhear the conversation—until another noblewoman blocked her path.

“Good evening! You must be Miss—oh, I mean Lady Arlenfelt,” the woman said, scratching her cheek awkwardly. “I’ve got a fantastic business proposal for you, if you’d just come along with me.”

“Ah, but I—” Daisy started, only to be dragged forcefully in the opposite direction. The woman was doing an excellent job of making sure Daisy’s view of Lalemana was thoroughly blocked.

Meanwhile, Lalemana had her own problems.

“Well, if it isn’t ‘Lady’ Dustiness,” one of the noblewomen sneered, her bow a grand, mocking gesture. “How generous of you to grace us with your presence.” The woman gave a deep, mocking bow.

Lalemana groaned as she turned to see her tormentor. “Ugh, that dreadful voice… If it isn’t Lady Panpan,” she clapped sarcastically with each syllable of the name, “What an absolute displeasure to run into you tonight.” Her words cut with venom.

“That’s Lady Sumer to you!” Panpan snapped, a vein visibly pulsing in her forehead. Her crimson eyes, only remnants of some far-removed Crimson Magic Clan ancestry, flared as she tried to keep her composure. “Don’t think just because your family outranks mine that you’re better than me!”

While the two argued, a group noblewomen swiftly surrounded Lalemana.

Lalemana leaned in slightly, “Oh, but Panpan, darling, that’s exactly what noble titles are for. To let the lesser nobles—like you—know who’s better.” She stood tall, her face a mask of faux pity. “Though I suppose someone with a brain as small as yours might have a hard time keeping up.”

The tension between them could have frozen over the entire ballroom. The other noblewomen watched with wide eyes as the verbal daggers flew back and forth, yet both girls kept their rigid smiles plastered on.

“I see you’re still as charming as a wild boar,” Panpan said, giving a sickly-sweet smile. “I’m surprised you even bothered showing up tonight. Aren’t you supposed to be off on some grand quest? Oh, I simply can’t wait for the day you leave this city.”

“I’m prepared to leave at any time,” Lalemana replied, feigning regret as she raised a hand to her lips. “Oh, but how could I forget? You weren’t deemed worthy to join me.” Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she delivered the line, her smile twisting into the smuggest expression she could muster.

Panpan’s jaw tightened, and her hands balled into fists. “It’s no loss,” she hissed, though her smile stayed unnaturally bright. “Honestly, spending more than a minute with you would be unbearable. The thought alone makes me sick to my stomach.”

Before Lalemana could retort, a shriek cut through the air as one of the noblewomen behind her stumbled theatrically, a concealed blade in hand. With a single swift motion, she sliced through Lalemana’s dress, exposing her entire left leg.

A chorus of gasps followed.

Panpan’s eyes glittered with cruel satisfaction. “Oh my, how unsightly, Dustiness,” she said, covering her mouth with a fan, though her grin was barely hidden behind it. “Exposing so much skin like that… but I suppose someone as charmless as you must resort to such tactics to catch the eye of any man. Why don’t you scream for me, Dustiness,” Panpan said in disdain, “Maybe some boys will help you out of pity. Or perhaps your father? I don’t think I’ve seen him all night, does he really care about you?”

Lalemana stood perfectly still, her expression the very definition of calm—except for the slight twitch at the corner of her eye. She smiled, though her voice wavered slightly. “You must be joking if you think this will make me lose my composure. My father has far more important things to do than attending some frivolous party. Of course, I’m sure your father understands, given that he works for mine.”

Panpan’s face twitched, her forced smile faltering as the insult struck home. “Careful,” she whispered, signaling to one of the noblewomen standing behind Lalemana. “Let’s see if you’re still composed after losing a bit more than just your dignity.”

“Lady Dustiness,” the noblewoman behind Lalemana said, stepping closer and reaching out as if to offer help. “Perhaps we should take care of your dress…”

Before the woman could touch Lalemana, Daisy appeared, her hand seizing the noblewoman’s wrist with swift precision. The woman yelped softly, dropping a hidden pair of scissors. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Daisy said, her voice calm but her grip firm.

Panpan’s gaze shifted to Daisy, her crimson eyes sharp. “You truly don’t know your place, do you?” she sneered. “I take it you declined my offer? Tell me, do you really prefer working for this worthless girl?” 

Daisy shot her a cold smile. “I suggest you watch your words, Lady Sumer,” she said, stepping closer. “As you’re well aware, disrespecting a higher-ranking noble is a serious offense. Attacking one is a grave crime.” She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, just enough to send a clear message. “And Lady Lalemana is under my protection from everything—and everyone.”

The rising tension had drawn the attention of several knights nearby, and it seemed the situation was about to spiral out of control—until a booming voice echoed through the ballroom. 

“Dear friends, I’m delighted to see you all here tonight!” The voice of the king reverberated through the hall, commanding the room’s attention.

Panpan and her entourage seized the moment, dispersing quickly into the crowd. Daisy turned to speak to Lalemana, only to find that she, too, had vanished.

“As you know,” the king kept talking as he moved through the room, carefully shaking hands with every noble in his way, as two towering paladins followed after his every move, “Our country is at its most critical moment, it is now that we need to come together more than anything—”

Daisy glanced at the king, surprised. His finely embroidered black coat and fur-lined collar spoke of royalty, but his unkempt hair and graying beard told a different story. Dark circles under his eyes and his worn posture revealed a man exhausted from the frontlines, though still maintaining a dignified presence.

She couldn’t afford to be distracted and quickly resumed her search for Lalemana. It didn’t take long before she spotted her smoking on the balcony outside the ballroom, gazing up at the sky. Daisy slipped outside, quietly shutting the glass door behind her.

Lalemana took a long puff, then pointed towards a light in a nearby building. “See that? Someone over there is watching us.” She waved, and sure enough, the light flickered as if in response. “And that one over there,” she added, pointing toward another building.

Lalemana slumped, resting her arms and head on the balcony railing. “Always observed. Rarely left alone. I can never be myself. And those people in there? They either hate me or just care about my family’s influence.” She took another drag, exhaling with frustration. “Screw this…”

Daisy hesitated, the cold biting in her face. “Milady, if I may ask… why do you need such heavy protection? Who… exactly are you?”

Lalemana chuckled and flicked the cigarette away. “Guess they didn’t tell you, huh?” She turned to face Daisy and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come with me.”

They hurried back inside, Lalemana leading Daisy straight to the library. Passing through towering shelves, they stopped in front of a large, guarded metal door.

“I’m sorry, Lady Dustiness,” said the guard firmly, “but your escort is not permitted beyond this point.”

Lalemana tapped the pendant hanging around her neck, bearing the Dustiness family crest. “This proves my family is part of the king’s inner circle. I’m allowed through.”

“Yes, milady, but your escort—”

“If you deny her entry, you're interfering with my escort, aren’t you? That’s a grave offense, a very grave offense,” Lalemana smirked, arms crossed. The guard hesitated before reluctantly stepping aside.

Daisy, still confused, followed her through the door into a short hallway. They boarded a large elevator, Lalemana pressing the only button. The descent was long, the air heavy.

“Um, milady—”

“We’re almost there,” Lalemana interrupted as the elevator clunked to a stop. They stepped out into a dimly lit corridor lined with torches, leading to a vast underground chamber. A table stood in the center, piled with several large, worn books and scattered notes.

Lalemana walked to the far end of the table while Daisy cautiously approached the books. She touched the cover of one, bright red and unmarked. “W-what are these…?”

Lalemana’s tone grew serious. “This, Daisy, is the most highly guarded secret of the crown. The most accurate record of the fall of the Demon King. The Crimson Codex.”

Daisy’s eyes widened in shock as Lalemana opened one of the books. Lalemana explained, pacing slowly, “They were discovered decades ago in the ruins of the original Crimson Magic Village north of here.”

“It’s the story of the legendary party…” Daisy muttered, her voice trembling as she read the page Lalemana opened.

“That’s right,” Lalemana nodded, “The full complete story, as told from the memoirs of the Crimson Magic clanswoman, or that’s what the prologue says, at least.”

“But how can we know if it’s accurate? All of that information was lost when—”

“When the Royal Capital fell centuries ago?” Lalemana cut her off. “Scholars have studied these books for a long time. It’s been determined they were written about five hundred years ago, shortly after the Demon King’s defeat.”

Daisy’s eyes darted across the pages, struggling to comprehend the gravity of it all. “But… why keep it a secret? This is crucial history!”

Lalemana opened the book to a specific page, gesturing for Daisy to read it. After a moment of silent reading, Daisy’s expression shifted to one of shock. “Milady… you… you’re…”

“Yes,” Lalemana said with a tired sigh, “one of my ancestors was the noble crusader. She went by the name ‘Darkness’ for some reason. Scholars are still baffled as to why.” Lalemana again took the book, opening on one of the last pages, and signaled her to read a final time.

Daisy’s face paled as she read aloud: “When the world is near the edge of darkness, the legendary party will come together once again. The Crimson Magic clanswoman, the Dustiness noblewoman, the blue-haired archpriest will reunite to save the world…” She paused, squinting at the last line, “and… maybe some… NEET?”

“Surprise! I’m one of the chosen ones to save the world!” Lalemana’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she fiddled with the clasp of her dress. “Oh, but it gets better, generations of the royal family have believed in this prophecy. They’ve been waiting, waiting for me—the first Dustiness woman born in a long time. But instead of letting me reunite the party, they keep me locked up here like some precious artifact.”

Daisy’s mind raced. “If this is true, you should be out there gathering the legendary party!”

Lalemana’s frustration boiled over. “That’s what I’ve been saying for years! But no, I’m too ‘precious.’ What if something happens to me? What about this prophecy then? I haven’t been allowed to leave the city in over ten years, Daisy. Ten years!”

“Milady…”

Lalemana sighed. “Remember that assface from before, Panpan? She was considered for the role of the Crimson Magic clanswoman at one point. Lived here, too. Hates me because I was ‘chosen’ and she wasn’t.”

“But the Crimson Magic Clan is so isolated!” Daisy exclaimed. “There are no records of anyone leaving the islands in a very long time, and they don’t accept foreigners aside of merchants!”

“Exactly!” Lalemana gritted her teeth. “Tell that to the king! Apparently, we’re just supposed to hope one wanders into town!” She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “But there’s another. You’ve heard of the Sapphire Spirit, right?”

Daisy nodded hesitantly, “The spirit said to have healing powers beyond even the best Archpriests…? The blue haired—!”

Lalemana nodded. “Yeah. But even after all these years, the king refuses to let me go see it. There have been dozens of attempts to bring the spirit here by force, and every single one failed.”

Her frustration boiled over, and she slammed a book onto the ground, scattering papers everywhere. “I’m not even allowed to bathe on my own, yet I’m supposed to save the world…”

Daisy tried to speak, but Lalemana cut her off with a forced smile. “Anyway, I hope that cleared up your questions, Daisy. Let’s head back, the guard up there may rat us out.”

With that, Lalemana led the way back to the elevator, leaving Daisy stunned.

She absentmindedly followed Lalemana, not noticing they were heading toward the front door instead of the ballroom. It wasn’t until the freezing gust of wind hit her that she snapped out of it.

“M-Milady, where are you—?” Her words were cut off as a snowball smacked her square in the face.

“Hahahaha!” Lalemana’s laugh rang out, her cheeks bright red from the cold and her amusement. She bounced a snowball in her hand, eyes gleaming mischievously. “You gotta be ready for anything!” she said, tossing another snowball and hitting Daisy once again.

“Milady, please, you could catch a cold,” Daisy replied in her usual deadpan tone, brushing snow off her face and hair.

“Aww, come on, play with me,” Lalemana pouted, already forming more snowballs. “I don’t have anyone else!”

“Milady—” Daisy was cut off by another snowball. “I’m supposed to protect you—” And another one hit. “—from everything, including yourself,” she muttered as another snowball smacked into her. With each hit, Daisy’s patience frayed a little more.

Lalemana had built a small snow fort by now, gleefully launching snowballs from behind her makeshift defenses.

“Alright, that’s it! If getting you back inside means defeating you, then so be it!” Daisy declared, finally grabbing a handful of snow and forming her own snowball. She tossed it back, and soon both girls were fully engaged in an all-out snowball fight, laughter echoing through the dark garden.

Their fun only came to a halt when Lady Marcella appeared, hands on her hips, giving them both a stern scolding for their antics.

Later that night, Lalemana sat slumped in front of the usual door, shivering under a blanket, holding a cloth to her nose. “Heh, are you okkay?” she mumbled, her voice muffled and nasally from her blocked nose. She blew into the cloth with a loud honk. “I tink I got sick…” she sniffled, her shoulders shaking as she shivered from the cold.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: A Captive Noble! – Part 2

Part 1

It’s been days since the last of the snow melted, and Arcanletia basked in the warm glow of spring. The streets buzzed with activity now that it was easier to move, vibrant with people setting up market stalls, children playing, and colorful flowers blooming along the walkways.

In the garden of the Royal Residence, guards and gardeners busily moved about, doing their best to avert their eyes from a certain sunbathing figure.

Lalemana, dressed in a skimpy bikini, reclined on a pool chair, determined to banish her winter paleness. A drink sat on a table beside her, and she casually flipped through a book, a lit cigarette dangling lazily from her lips.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat, casting an annoying shadow over her.

“Hi, Daisy,” Lalemana muttered without looking up, eyes still on her book. “Want a sip?” she offered, gesturing toward her drink with no real intent to hand it over.

“Milady, must you really do this in the main garden?” Daisy asked, her forced smile barely concealing her exasperation.

“Yes.”

“But surely, there’s a more appropriate place for sunbathing. Like the garden within the Dustiness wing? You know, the one where people won’t stare?” Daisy gestured toward the gawking onlookers who had gathered beyond the Royal Residence’s fence, their whispers and murmurs barely concealed.

“Nah, I don’t like it there,” Lalemana said flatly.

Daisy sighed, her patience fraying. “Could you at least… cover yourself a bit more?”

Lalemana finally lifted her gaze, “Daisy, for people like us, beauty is power.” She dramatically waved a hand over her body. “Modesty is for the weak.”

Daisy pinched the bridge of her nose. “I tried to warn you.” She gave a slight nod toward the residence’s entrance, where a maid was quietly waiting.

“Huh?” Lalemana blinked in confusion, taking a big sip of her drink. “What do you mean?”

Before Daisy could answer, a voice roared across the garden. “LULÚ! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!” Lalemana jumped in her seat, spilling her drink as her mother stormed into view, flanked by a few maids. The vein on her forehead threatened to burst. “I told you to be ready by now! And here you are, parading yourself like this for the entire town to see?!”

“M-Mom!?” Lalemana scrambled to use Daisy as a shield, but the traitorous knight deftly stepped aside, allowing her mother’s wrath to land squarely on her.

“Are you betraying me—? Ack!” Lalemana yelped as her mother smacked her with a shoe, not once, but several times. “Waaaaah! I’m sorry!” She bolted toward the residence, her hands flailing as Lady Marcella chased after her with the determination of a mother who’s had enough.

“Young lady, you have five minutes to get dressed properly!” Lady Marcella barked, brandishing the shoe like a weapon. “If you take a second longer, I’m confiscating that hairdresser!”

“Waaaaaaah!” Lalemana fled, vanishing into the residence, a couple of maids following after.

Daisy chuckled softly. In the months she’d been escorting Lalemana, she had come to realize that guarding her wasn’t like protecting a high-value target—it was more like babysitting a bratty little sister.

A few minutes later, Lalemana reemerged, wearing a chic spring outfit. Her head was adorned with a black, wide-brimmed hat, and dark sunglasses covered her eyes, giving her the air of a celebrity ready for the spotlight.

Lady Marcella’s eye twitched. “Are you seriously wearing those?” she pointed at the sunglasses.

Lalemana lifted them just enough to peer over the top. “The future is now, old lady. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Hmph!” Lady Marcella puffed her cheeks in indignation. “Well, new spring, new fashion! I suppose I could take a look at those myself.” She waved for a nearby carriage. “Now that we’re ready, let’s go.”

The Dustiness women, along with Daisy, a few maids and knights, headed to the city’s wealthiest shopping district. They swept through clothing and jewelry stores, accumulating dresses, hats, shoes, and jewelry at a staggering rate. Hours passed, and the sheer amount of bags trailing behind them could outfit an entire family.

Daisy watched as Lalemana idly flipped through racks of scarves, occasionally glancing across wandering groups of girls her age. They giggled amongst themselves, pointing at trinkets and holding up new accessories, the sounds of their laughter blending into the busy streets.

The Dustiness women, however, were cordoned off from the rest of the city’s bustling social life, surrounded by knights while the maids struggled carrying all their shopping. Daisy couldn’t ignore the longing look in Lalemana’s eyes, a gaze that lingered on other girls.

“What do you think of this scarf, Lulú?” her mother asked, draping a bright, colorful scarf around her neck.

Lalemana, half-heartedly watching from a distance, nodded without really looking. “Yeah, it suits you. Really brings out your eyes.”

But Daisy noticed something off. Lalemana, usually so lively when out of the residence, looked distant. She wasn’t her usual self, hardly engaging in her surroundings. Instead, she stared longingly at a group of girls, now sitting at a café across the street, laughing and gossiping.

That’s when it hit Daisy—Lalemana had no friends. In the months she’d been guarding her, no one visited her. And excluding the rehabilitation clinic, she visited nobody.

“Milady, are you alright?” Daisy asked, approaching quietly.

“Huh?” Lalemana snapped out of her daze, her eyes still on the laughing girls. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Before Daisy could press further, Lady Marcella called out again. “Lulú, come try this on!”

Lalemana stood up with a tired sigh and made her way over, but Daisy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

The next morning

Daisy leisurely polished her breastplate. There was no reason to rush her morning routine—Lalemana would spend at least two hours getting herself ready. If anything, Daisy appreciated the free time. It gave her a chance to catch up on her reading. After fastening her armor, she reached for a new copy of The Romance of the Dragon Knight, a retelling of one of her favorite stories. She had read it many times but was looking forward to this fresh version.

“Good morning, milady,” Daisy announced as she entered Lalemana’s bedroom, expecting to find her lounging in a nightgown in front of the hairdresser.

“Oh, hey, Daisy! Could you help me with this?” Lalemana emerged from behind a folding screen, her voice as casual as ever. But her appearance was anything but.

She was dressed like a knight, though with a flair only she could pull off. Her breastplate gleamed white and gold, polished to perfection, with an elegant shoulder pauldron on her left and a wing-like adornment draping over her right. A crimson red bow was fastened to her cuirass, which paired with a miniskirt alternating with yellow and white stripes that gave her a decidedly less formal air. Metallic boots rose to her knees, their steel finish sharp and clean. Her left gauntlet hung loose on her hand, and she pointed to it, “Tighten this please”

Daisy blinked in confusion but stepped forward. "Uh, sure..." She took hold of the gauntlet, feeling the cool material, her fingers tracing strange engravings across the surface. It was a magical alloy, a rare and expensive one.

"Nice," Lalemana said, as she grabbed her sword from its resting place and unsheathed it for a brief glance. With a satisfied nod, she strapped it to her waist. "Alright, I’m ready! Let’s go!"

“M-milady, where are we going? And why are you dressed like that?” Daisy stammered, utterly baffled.

“What do you mean, didn’t they tell you?” Lalemana asked, walking briskly past her. "Winter break is over. I’m part of the Royal Army too, you know! Time to get back to training—onward to the Royal Army Academy!”

Daisy expected Lady Marcella to stop her daughter to make anything stupid, but was shocked when the head of the house simply told her not to overexert herself.

They took the subway south to the academy. Lalemana could barely contain her excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. Daisy had a hundred questions, but she kept them to herself.

The Royal Army Academy sprawled across several city blocks in the southern district of Arcanletia. The complex was a towering bastion of stone and steel, its tall walls punctuated by high arches and expansive windows. Multiple floors housed various training centers for warriors, crusaders, wizards, priests, archers, and more. The surrounding fields were teeming with soldiers of every class, busy in rigorous training.

Daisy recognized several of the instructors, a few offering her nods of acknowledgment. She trained here herself and knew the grueling routines that awaited those serious about joining the Royal Army.

Lalemana approached the receptionist with her usual confidence. The young woman’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh, hey, Miss—I mean, Lady Dustiness,” she stammered, clearly unused to speaking with nobles. “Finally back after winter break, huh?”

“Yes! Finally!” Lalemana stretched dramatically. “Has Mireya arrived yet?”

“Colonel Duffy? She got here about an hour ago. She’s waiting for you on your private training grounds,” the receptionist said, rifling through some papers before finding a note. “She left you a message too—it says, ‘If you make me wait too long, I’m going to beat your ass.’” The receptionist’s tone turned awkward. “You, uh, should probably get going.”

Lalemana didn’t bat an eye and hurried off towards her instructor.

Her private training grounds were on the second floor, overlooking the academy's busy courtyard. The area was spacious, lined with practice dummies clad in armor and various racks filled with wooden weapons. As Daisy followed Lalemana in, she spotted a lone figure standing at the far end—a tall woman with free-flowing, fiery red hair that danced in the wind.

Lalemana skidded to a stop, gasping for air. “I-I’m here! Not late at all!”

The woman, turned to face them. Her piercing green eyes were framed by thick eyeliner, and her muscled frame was impossible to ignore. She wore her armor casually, with the midriff exposed, showing off toned abs and an intricate tattoo. Without a word, she marched over to Lalemana and grabbed her by the cheeks.

“Ah, you’re still so cute,” she cooed mockingly. “Tell me, how was the most valuable princess during her winter break?”

Lalemana started to respond with her usual confidence. “Well, of course—EEEEE!” she shrieked as Mireya yanked her cheeks harder.

“I told you not to waste my time,” Mireya said, her voice ice-cold. She only released Lalemana when she noticed Daisy reaching for her weapon. “And this? Your new puppy?”

“She’s my new escort,” Lalemana muttered, rubbing her reddened cheeks. “Daisy, this is Colonel Mireya Duffy, my swordfighting instructor.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. The name ‘Duffy’ wasn’t unfamiliar, and seeing the woman up close confirmed it. Colonel Mireya Duffy—better known by the nickname ‘the beast’—was one of the most feared and respected swordfighters in the country. She only trained the best, and her methods were known to be brutal.

Mireya tossed a wooden sword to Lalemana. “Hope the winter didn’t soften you up. Today we’re training hard.”

Lalemana grabbed the sword with both hands, excitement gleaming in her eyes. “I’ve been dying to wield a sword again!”

“One hand.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be fighting one-handed from now on. It’ll make more sense when you meet with Mildred,” Mireya said nonchalantly, holding her own sword in one hand. “Come at me when you’re ready.”

Lalemana took a deep breath, carefully studying Mireya’s posture. Every muscle in her body tensed as she dashed forward, aiming her first strike at Mireya’s right side. The attack was fast and precise, but Mireya effortlessly parried it, her arm moving with the ease of someone who's done this countless times. Lalemana staggered but quickly recovered, launching into another assault, this time aiming for Mireya’s torso.

Her strikes were fluid, each movement a display of grace and power. She pivoted on her heel, driving her sword down toward Mireya’s shoulder, only to be met with another swift block. Lalemana pushed herself, attacking relentlessly from different angles, trying to catch Mireya off guard. But every strike, no matter how refined or fast, was met with an equally quick defense. Mireya’s eyes never wavered, her reactions instinctual, as if she could predict every move.

Daisy, watching from the sidelines, could see it all too clearly. Lalemana was quick and skillful, but her lack of combat experience showed. Her movements were readable, and while her techniques were sharp, there was hesitation in her strikes. In contrast, Mireya fought like a seasoned warrior. Every movement was precise and purposeful, driven by instinct honed through countless battles.

An hour passed, and Lalemana was drenched in sweat, her breathing labored. Yet Mireya, still calm, hadn’t lost her breath. Lalemana attacked again, her arm trembling from exhaustion, only to be met with the same, effortless parry.

“Not bad for a first try,” Mireya said, casting the wooden sword aside. "But you’ve got a long way to go."

Lalemana dropped her sword, wiping her brow. “I’m exhausted... I need to drink something and take a big break…”

Mireya’s expression hardened. “What makes you think we’re done? You’re not taking any breaks until you break my guard.”

Lalemana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Haaaaaah!?"

Mireya pointed to the track in the main courtyard. "Now go down there and give me fifty laps. We'll continue once you’re back."

The despair in Lalemana’s eyes was palpable, but there was no use arguing. She sprinted past Daisy, heading toward the track, her legs already shaking from fatigue.

“You stay here, puppy,” Mireya said, smirking, as Daisy was about to chase after Lalemana, “We need you well-rested to carry her back.”

The grueling routine continued well into the evening. Lalemana was put through a relentless cycle of sword fighting, and a changing punishment of running, pushups and the like, with barely a moment to rest.

By sunset, Lalemana could barely hold the sword. Her legs buckled beneath her as she collapsed to the ground, unable to continue. Mireya stood over her, arms crossed, her face devoid of any sympathy.

“I expect her here on time tomorrow,” Mireya said coldly to Daisy. “I forgave her today, but if she’s late again, there’ll be real punishment.”

Daisy, too shocked to speak, simply nodded as she lifted Lalemana’s unconscious body onto her back, carrying her back to the Royal Residence.

After a long bath to soothe her aching muscles, Lalemana devoured her dinner, eating like someone who hadn’t seen food in days. Once finished, she collapsed onto her bed, the soft sheets welcoming her sore body. Daisy assumed she would stay in for the night, but late into the evening, Lalemana quietly slipped out of bed. Limping and using the walls for support, she made her way the same path as every other night.

The light in the familiar room was on, as if waiting for her arrival.

“Every fiber in my body is screaming in pain,” Lalemana muttered, standing in the doorway. She gave a weary smile. “If I sit, I’m afraid I won’t be able to get back up. But, anyway, how are you?” Her exhaustion seemed to melt away as she looked into door, her voice softening. “I hope the warm spring airs will make you feel better.”

A week later.

Daisy and Lalemana made their way back to the academy. Lalemana had only taken the previous day off, recovering from a training regime that bordered on torture. Mireya hadn’t let up for a moment, leaving Daisy to haul Lalemana back to the residence, utterly drained from the relentless sessions. Despite the exhaustion, Daisy couldn’t deny that Lalemana’s one-handed swordsmanship had improved significantly.

Still a thousand years away from landing a blow on Colonel Duffy, but progress is progress, Daisy thought.

After spending another day at the rehabilitation clinic, they returned, Lalemana still filled with determination. But today, she headed to a different room on the first floor.

“Milady, I don’t think you should keep Colonel Duffy waiting,” Daisy said, concerned.

Lalemana waved her off. “She’s not here. Other poor souls will suffer with her today. We’re doing something else.”

She knocked on a sturdy wooden door adorned with a brass plaque reading [Shooting Range]. As the door creaked open, the sight of an Archwizard levitating midair, her legs crossed and a massive grimoire floating in front of her, greeted them. A staff hovered beside her like a loyal dog. Her wild, untamed hair parted in the center. She looked up from her book and smiled, “Ah, welcome!” lowering herself onto her bare feet and approaching Lalemana into a crushing hug. “It’s been way too long! I’ve missed you!”

Lalemana wriggled free, her face squished between the woman’s chest. “Yeah, nice to see you too, Mildred.”

She grinned and turned to Daisy, who was blushing, wide-eyed. “Oh, so this is your new guardian? She’s definitely looks nicer than the last ones,” she teased.

“Daisy, this is Mildred Harcourt. She’s my magic instructor.” Mildred bowed after the introduction, and Daisy returned the gesture.

After a moment, Daisy raised her hand. “Excuse me, but magic? Milady isn’t a wizard… what’s she supposed to do?”

Lalemana and Mildred looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

“You haven’t told her? That’s cruel!” Mildred laughed, clutching her sides.

“It’s her fault for not asking.” Lalemana shrugged, then raised her left hand. “I’m a Rune Knight, Daisy. Not just a boring knight.” At that, the runes on her gauntlet flared up, glowing a bright red as a flame appeared in her hand. “See? I can use magic, too.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. Rune Knight? she thought. A class that tries to merge the might of a knight with the spells of a wizard, but in reality, they’re worse at both. They’re slow learners, struggling to master the basics of swordplay or magic. Most knights swing a sword better, and wizards can cast stronger spells long before a Rune Knight even gets started. They’re rare, because most people consider it a waste of time.

“Teaching her magic is almost a losing battle,” Mildred, wiping away tears of laughter, smirked, “if only she weren’t so dumb.”

“Hey!”

Mildred chuckled and patted Lalemana’s head. “Starting today, we’re shifting your training. Mireya’s got you working one-handed for a reason.”

“She didn’t explain anything,” Lalemana sighed. “What’s the plan?”

Mildred waved her hand, and a metallic briefcase floated over. “We’re integrating sword and magic in a more… creative way.” She flipped the case open, revealing a sleek revolver, its polished metal gleaming. “Meet the Manaflare, a prototype from the Royal Magic Research Institute.”

“A gun?” Lalemana raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t a regular gun, silly.” Mildred smirked. “It uses mana, not gunpowder. It’s a catalyst, think of it as a wand or staff.”

Mildred spun the Manaflare in her hand with expert precision, aimed at the range’s target, and commanded, “Tinder!” The revolver’s chambers glowed, firing a shot that exploded into a fiery burst upon impact with the target.

“Pretty neat, huh? It’s still limited to basic and some intermediate spells, though. Anything too strong and it’ll blow up in your face. But for your level, it’s perfect.” She handed the Manaflare to Lalemana, “One hand for the sword, the other for the Manaflare. It’ll take time, but this is how we bridge the gap between swordplay and magic.” Mildred grinned. “You barely know how to use catalysts, so this is going to be rough. Though I believe you didn’t relent on those exercises I taught you during your break?”

Lalemana shut her mouth tight and looked away, sweating slightly.

“Ugh…” Mildred groaned, “Well, go on, give it a try.”

Lalemana took aim at the target, her gauntlet’s runes glowing a pale blue. “O Spirits of Water, heed my call! Create Water!” she yelled, a powerful jet of water shot from the Manaflare—and completely missed its target.

“No, no, no!” Mildred groaned. “Just mana, no runes. The spirits are getting real tired of you bothering them so often. Seal!” With a wave, all the runes on Lalemana’s gauntlet darkened.

“No runes? But then—” Lalemana muttered, frowning.

“You rely too much on the runes,” Mildred said, wagging her finger. “If they break or you run out of chalk, what then? You need to learn how to properly use your raw mana. Try again.”

With a frustrated huff, Lalemana aimed again. “Create water!” This time, only a tiny splash sputtered out, barely reaching past the barrel.

Mildred leaned in, smirking. “See, what did I say?”

Lalemana scowled as Mildred floated back over to Daisy. “We’ll keep at it until you can hit the target. After that, we’ll work on using both sword and Manaflare at once. It’ll be fun!”

As Lalemana continued struggling, Mildred sidled closer to Daisy. “So, what’s she been up to since you joined her? I need to know everything.”

Caught off guard, Daisy started recounting her days with Lalemana, the two exchanging laughs as Lalemana kept floundering with her training. Despite Mildred’s playful attitude, Daisy remained on edge. She’d heard plenty about Mildred Harcourt—the Midnight Sage—a prodigious Archwizard, widely regarded as the country’s top mage. She was known for being obsessed with magical research and for training the best mages, though rumors said she wasn’t quite right in the head.

Mildred listened intently to Daisy’s stories, her bright yellow eyes never leaving Lalemana as she struggled with the Manaflare.

The day’s training passed in lighter spirits than Mireya’s brutal sessions, with Lalemana getting short breaks. But by sunset, she was pale, her mana completely drained.

“This girl, she didn’t listen to me at all,” Mildred said, as she and Daisy help give the barely conscious Lalemana a health potion.

“If I may ask, what do you mean by that?” Daisy questioned, as she tried to hold Lalemana’s head steady.

“Look at how weak she got, not even a novice Wizard would get this pale after training,” Mildred finish pouring the potion on Lalemana’s mouth, “It’s called mana leakage, it happens when someone who doesn’t have high enough Intelligence uses magic. She used way more than needed on each attack. Ugh, and I sent her work for winter break to try to solve this!”

Once again, Daisy had to carry her back. Before they could leave, Mildred stopped them with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I hope to hear more from you tomorrow, Daisy. You’re quite observant…”She winked, her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

Daisy nodded quickly, all too eager to escape with the exhausted Lalemana in tow.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into months as Lalemana’s grueling training continued. Her schedule alternated between Mireya one week and Mildred the next, leaving her with only one free day between their exhausting lessons.

Lalemana had gotten better, occasionally surprising even Mireya, and now the Manaflare reached halfway down the shooting range. Skilled? Absolutely. Hardworking? No doubt about it. But to Daisy, it felt like watching an incredibly sharp sword rust away, tucked in its scabbard, never drawn in a real fight.

And like that, two months passed.

On one of her free days, Lalemana walked alongside Daisy up a bustling street, having spent the better part of the morning getting herself ready. But instead of heading to the rehabilitation clinic or the ramen stall as usual, she had a different destination in mind—a place Daisy had grown to despise.

“Milady, why do you keep insisting we come here?” Daisy grumbled, licking an ice cream cone with little enthusiasm.

“What do you mean? I always have fun here,” Lalemana said with a smile, casually licking her own cone. “Plus, I need some information.”

“Fun at my expense!” Daisy shot back, nearly dropping her ice cream. Her eyes widened in horror. “W-wait, milady, you couldn’t possibly mean—!”

“It’s not that,” Lalemana waved her hand dismissively. “We’re almost there.”

Daisy groaned as the Axis Cathedral came into view.

Despite her protests, Lalemana had insisted on visiting this place on some of her free days. The cathedral was the one place Daisy was forbidden to enter. And Lalemana enjoyed seeing the cultists mess with her.

But today, she was here for information, not amusement. Hopefully, the one Axis cultist she could sort of trust would finally be around.

As they approached the gates, Daisy noticed several large carriages full of cargo leaving the cathedral grounds. “What’s going on with those?” she wondered aloud.

Before Lalemana could respond, Archbishop Auberon appeared out of nowhere. “Ah! If it isn’t my favorite nobles!” he called, waving them down with a grin.

“Eeek!” Lalemana and Daisy recoiled in unison, Daisy instinctively stepping in front of Lalemana.

“What kind of reaction is that?” Archbishop Auberon frowned. “I offer you sanctuary, and this is my thanks? Outrageous! But... a kiss from the young lady, and all will be forgiven!” He puckered his lips, leaning dangerously close to Lalemana.

Before Daisy could draw her weapon, a nun stomped on Archbishop Auberon’s robe, sending him sprawling face-first into the ground. “Archbishop Auberon!” she scolded, smacking him repeatedly with a broom. “How many times have the police warned you about that?!”

Lalemana gave Daisy a sidelong glance. “See? I told you it’s always fun.”

The nun sighed, stepping over the now-unconscious Archbishop Auberon. “You may go in,” she grumbled to Lalemana before thrusting the broom into Daisy’s hands. “And you, at least make yourself useful. This place doesn’t clean itself!”

“B-but—” Daisy protested weakly, watching Lalemana disappear through the gates. “MILADY! NO MORE THAN THIRTY MINUTES, OR I’M TELLING YOUR MOTHER!”

Inside, Lalemana made a beeline for the dormitories. She nearly bumped into a priest along the way and asked, “Is Arthur back yet?”

“Yeah, they arrived last night,” the priest said. “I saw him in the cafeteria.”

She found Arthur there, eating lunch alone, dressed casually in just a shirt and boxers. Without warning, Lalemana swatted him in the back of the head.

“What the—!?” Arthur wiped soup off his face, staring up at her in confusion.

“Damn priest!” Lalemana fumed, keeping his head down. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be away for so long? I’ve needed to talk to you!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need to tell you? What are we, a couple or something?” He leaned in, making Lalemana blush. “If I was dating you, sure, maybe I'd tell you. But, nah, you're not my type. Too thin.”

Lalemana punched him square in the cheek, sending him flying backward.

“Alright, alright!” Arthur laughed, rubbing his face. “I had to leave last minute, okay? I was sent to the Axis Monastery, and it was super sudden. Two days after we last talked.”

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pilgrimage,” Lalemana muttered, her voice tense.

“Huh? No, that’s still away,” Arthur waved her off. “You hit me for that? Listen, buy me a good lunch, and we’ll talk.”

After buying Arthur a meal far fancier than he deserved, Lalemana pressed him again. “So, about the pilgrimage—”

“Relax, Lady Dustiness,” Arthur said, taking a big bite of food. “You could’ve asked anyone in the church, you know. All you’d have to do is sign a simple form—”

“Cut the nonsense. I need to know more,” Lalemana leaned in closer. “Daisy confiscated that paper you gave me.”

Arthur chuckled, pushing his plate aside. “Alright, alright. But if you’re unwilling to tell me why you want to know, there’s only so much I’d be willing to tell you. Say, three questions, think carefully.”

Lalemana bit her lip, aware of the time ticking away. “When are you leaving?”

“The date isn’t fixed, but around a month before Autumn starts, say August 20-ish. We already sent call to Axis believers of nearby towns; we’ll wait until most are in town.”

“How will you get there?”

“Three-day train ride to Ilyora, then five days on foot to Verdant Heights, the nearest settlement to the spirit. Too risky to use Teleport with so many people. But we’ll be back here before the leaves turn red.”

“The Sapphire Spirit—what’s the best offering?”

Arthur paused, tapping his fingers on the table. “Not fully understood, but high-grade alcohol almost always works. Cheap stuff won’t cut it. Cakes are usually good too, but it’s better to buy fresh ones in Verdant Heights.”

Lalemana still had more questions, but a glance at her watch told her time was running out. “Thanks. I’ll see you around,” she said, standing up.

As she turned to leave, Arthur leaned back in his chair. “By the way, not that you’d ever be dumb enough to try, but if someone were planning to stow away, hiding in the luggage of a high-ranking church member would be the safest bet. Guards never check that.” He winked.

Outside, Daisy was sweeping over a dirt-covered unconscious Archbishop Auberon. “Only a minute to spare, milady,” she said, glancing at her watch.

Carriages continued leaving the cathedral grounds, Lalemana stared at them curiously. “That’s a lot, what are they moving?”

“They’re carrying holy water,” Daisy replied. “The nun told me. It’s headed for the Crimson Magic Islands, for their biannual open market.”

“Oh,” Lalemana said, gazing into the distance. “Maybe something interesting will come back with the merchant ships, you never know.”

Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she bolted down the street. “Come on, Daisy! We can’t be late to the clinic!”

Part 2

The summer sun was relentless, the air thick with heat that shimmered over the city. The streets were alive with people in light, breathable clothes, skirts and shorts becoming the norm. Nearly every corner hosted a vendor selling ice cream or shaved ice, the sweet, icy treats vanishing almost as fast as they were made. Fountains, usually majestic symbols of the city's beauty, were today playgrounds for children who splashed and giggled in the holy water, using it to cool off as the aqueducts shimmered in the sunlight.

Even under the relentless sun, Lalemana’s training never stopped. Daisy and her approached the Royal Army Academy, already drenched in sweat from their walk. Daisy was lugging a box of cold energy drinks, hoping to convince Mireya to allow Lalemana to take a break. She’d already downed one herself during the ride over.

As they arrived at the special training grounds, they were greeted by the unmistakable sound of ice clinking. There, sitting comfortably, was Mireya, casually chugging a beer from a large bucket filled to the brim with icy bottles.

“Finally!” Mireya let out a loud belch, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“N-No, we’re early!” Lalemana stammered, pointing at her watch. She had learned from bitter experience to never, ever keep Mireya waiting.

“Relax, kiddo, I’m just messing with you,” Mireya grinned, tossing the empty bottle to the side. “Let’s get to work.”

As Lalemana instinctively reached for a wooden training sword, Mireya’s hand shot out to stop her. “No toys today. We’re going full throttle. Real sword, real magic.”

“Huh?” Lalemana blinked in disbelief, her hand hovering over the wooden weapon.

Mireya tossed something her way. Lalemana barely caught it, her eyes widening after realizing what it was—the Manaflare, "We’re using everything you’ve got today. Sword, runes, magic. No half-measures."

“But how did you get this? Mildred said I wasn’t ready to use this in tandem with my sword yet!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mireya waved her hand dismissively, clearly hiding something with a terrible poker face. “Look, you’ve hit a plateau. You’re fast, and you’re clever, but your attacks—they’re soft. You hesitate. And that makes you weak.” Her gaze shifted to Daisy. “Ain’t that right, puppy?”

Daisy, long resigned to Mireya's refusal to use her actual name, nodded silently. Much as she hated the nickname, Mireya wasn’t wrong. Training without risk was just going through the motions.

“Use everything you got.” Mireya leveled her wooden sword at Lalemana, her tone suddenly serious. “No holding back today. Fight me until you can’t stand.”

Lalemana steeled herself, unsheathing her sword. The blade gleamed under the sun, and as Daisy watched, she noticed the subtle runes that began to glow across the steel. Lalemana whispered something under her breath, and the sword crackled to life, arcs of electricity dancing along its length.

Mireya grinned. “Oh, nice. I hope you’ve got some ice magic in there, ‘cause that’s what I’ll be needing in this heat.”

Without a word, Lalemana squeezed the trigger of the Manaflare. The chambers lit up, and a magical bullet shot forth. Mireya attempted to deflect it, but it exploded into a cloud of smoke. Lalemana didn’t waste a second, rushing through the cover, sword raised high.

But as the smoke cleared, Mireya was there, smiling, her wooden sword firmly blocking the electrified blade. “You’re still hesitating, kid,” she taunted, effortlessly pushing Lalemana back, she quickly recovered, her sword morphing in her hand as the blade split into segments, transforming into a whip.

Lalemana gritted her teeth, switching to fire runes. The blade ignited in a blaze of red and orange, the heat from it rivaling the sun overhead. She slashed and jabbed, firing bursts of magic from the Manaflare in between. For a moment, it looked like she had Mireya on the defensive. But no matter how hard she tried, each time Lalemana’s attacks closed in, that split-second hesitation crept in, just enough for Mireya to dodge or block.

Each of Lalemana’s attacks, no matter how creative or elemental, was parried with almost mocking ease. Mireya blocked the rune sword as if it were nothing, sidestepped flames, and smirked as frost formed around her wooden blade.

“You’re trying to show off again, aren’t you?” Mireya taunted, dodging a particularly wild slash. “Flashy, but what’s the point if you’re not committed?”

The battle raged on. Lalemana’s movements were sharp, but there was always a split-second hesitation before her strikes. She would hesitate, reconsider, overthink, and then commit, but by then, it was too late. She gasped for breath, her mana running dangerously low.

Mireya was panting too, but it was hard to tell if it was from the fight or just the oppressive heat.

Just when it seemed like Lalemana was on the verge of collapsing, Mireya took a step back. “You’re still too green,” she said, tossing her wooden sword over her shoulder. But just as she did, something zipped past her—a shard of Lalemana’s blade, expertly aimed, narrowly missed Mireya’s cheek.

Finally caught off guard, it was all Lalemana needed. She closed the distance, her sword turned whip surrounding Mireya, trapping her. The Manaflare was pointed directly at her face, crackling with energy.

“Not so green,” Lalemana panted, a tired but triumphant smile creeping onto her face. “Looks like I finally—”

Before she could finish, Mireya delivered a swift kick to her stomach, sending her flying. Daisy scrambled to catch her before she crashed into the walls.

“Way too green,” Mireya sighed, walking over as Daisy helped Lalemana to her feet. “You had me. You could’ve won. But you hesitated again—this time to gloat.” She shook her head. “If this were a real battle, you’d be dead.”

“But,” Mireya added, “you caught me off guard. Not many can claim that. Rest, we’re done for today.”

They made their way to the ice bucket with beers, Mireya immediately grabbing another, while Daisy handed Lalemana an energy drink, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Cheer up,” Mireya said after downing her beer in one gulp. “I was gonna let you hit me, but, y’know… gotta keep up appearances.” She winked, tossing the bottle aside. “Got a gig tonight.”

Lalemana reached for a beer herself, but Daisy intercepted her hand. “Milady, your mother was clear. You can’t drink without her supervision, not with after happened last time.”

Lalemana groaned, “Ugh, Daisy! I’m not a child!”

“No, but your mother won’t care for the distinction,” Daisy replied firmly, handing her the energy drink instead.

Mireya laughed, standing up and stretching. “Hey, if you’re free tonight, come to Sinners. Midnight show. My band’s playing. Would be a great chance for you to blow off some steam.”

Before Lalemana could agree, Daisy shook her head. “I’m afraid milady isn’t allowed out after dark.”

“Buzzkill,” Mireya teased, playfully tapping Daisy’s chin. “Alright, puppy. I’ll be out of time for a few weeks. No training until I’m back. Take care, oh, and return the gun for me.”

Late that night, Daisy remained awake. It had become routine by now, waiting for Lalemana to return from her nightly escapades. But tonight was different. Even after she slipped back into her room, Daisy remained awake. She got up, pulled on casual summer clothes, and marched straight to Lalemana’s room, finding her perched on the bed, trying—and failing—to look innocent.

“D-Daisy?!” Lalemana stammered, eyes wide. “I just... uh... came back from the bathroom! No need to worry, everything’s fine. Go back to bed, okay?”

Without a word, Daisy turned on the lights, yanked some fresh clothes from the wardrobe, and tossed them over, “Change into these, milady. We’re going out.”

The streets outside the Royal Residence buzzed with energy, even late at night Arcanletia was far from quiet. Carriages rattled by, laughter echoed from nearby taverns, and shops with brightly glowing signs advertised everything from late-night karaoke to street food stalls. The soft hum of conversations mixed with the occasional clink of glassware as the night owls of the city went about their lively routines.

At one the residence’s rear entrance, servants bustled about, unloading crates of provisions—everything from fresh produce to packages of all kinds of meat. The large stone archway leading to the kitchens was wide enough to allow a wagon through, while a pair of royal guards stood nearby, ensuring everything went smoothly. Daisy appeared amidst the activity; a very large travel bag slung over her back.

“Lady Arlenfelt, shouldn’t you be on duty?” one of the guards asked, eyeing Daisy’s uncharacteristically casual attire with suspicion.

“I need to send these over to my parents,” she gestured to the hefty bag on her back. “Can’t do it any other time of day and asking a servant’s out of the question. You know how unfriendly the Dustiness staff are with us royal guards.”

The guard frowned, scratching his chin. “What about the MVP? Aren’t you supposed to stay by her side?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Daisy said with an exaggerated wave, acting far more casual than usual. “She’s out cold after today. I even bolted her door—she won’t be wandering off anywhere.”

The guard chuckled, amused. “You’ve done an exceptional job, you know? Might be the longest anyone’s lasted as her escort. Fine, but I’ll need to check your bag.”

Daisy hefted the bag, her face expressionless. “If you really need to search through a girl’s clothes...” She let the bag hit the ground with a loud thud, the weight of it clear.

The guard’s face reddened as he took a step back, avoiding eye contact. “U-um... no need. I’m sure it’s fine. Just don’t take too long, alright?”

Daisy smirked, hoisting the bag back over her shoulder and strolling off into the city, blending into the night. Once she was far enough from the Royal Residence, she ducked into a quiet alley and dropped the bag again. This time, Lalemana unceremoniously emerged from it, her expression more than a little annoyed.

“Did you really need to drop me like that?” she grumbled, coughing as she dusted herself off.

“Consider it payback, milady.” Daisy stretched, rubbing her back, clearly strained from lugging Lalemana around. “So... you wouldn’t happen to know where the place Colonel Duffy mentioned is, would you?”

Lalemana barely heard her, instead, gazing around, wide-eyed, at the glowing signs and neon-lit storefronts. A giant, flashing karaoke sign caught her attention, followed by another advertising late-night fortune telling. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Milady, when was the last time you were out at night?” Daisy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lalemana paused, placing a finger to her chin. “Hmm... it’s been about a year, I think?” There was a soft melancholy in her voice, but it was fleeting. “Come on, Daisy, let’s go explore!” She darted ahead, her mood instantly switching back to excitement.

They wandered through the bustling streets, passing shops filled with odd trinkets, food stalls selling sweet arcan buns, and taverns where rowdy patrons spilled out into the street. Lalemana, in an attempt to disguise herself, had donned dark sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat. She pointed at nearly every neon sign they passed—karaoke, fortune tellers, even a shop offering something called ‘magical piercings.’

An hour or so later, they were on a trolley moving through the busy streets, with Lalemana fighting to stay awake. By the time the conductor announced the next stop, Daisy had to nudge her awake.

“According to what the patrolman said, this is it, milady,” Daisy signaled to get off, offering her arm to the sleepy Lalemana to help her stand.

Far away from the noble district, they found themselves walking through a bustling commoner street. Vendors called out, offering their goods as the smell of fried food and sweet treats filled the air. Lanterns illuminated the street, casting a warm glow through the steam rising from food stalls, while smoke from roasted meats curled up into the night sky. Crowds bustled between carts and small shops, everyone looking for a late-night snack or a drink.

Following directions, they made their way toward their destination. Lalemana was starting to grow impatient, “We’re going to miss it, Daisy!” she whined.

“Wait, milady, I think it’s here,” Daisy stopped, pointing to a small wooden sign with the word [SINNERS] etched into it. It was hanging by the entrance to a narrow staircase leading underground. Unlike the lively shops around it, the bar was almost hidden, tucked away from sight as if it didn’t want to be found.

Inside, the place was anything but what its modest entrance suggested. It was packed, dimly lit by colored lanterns hanging from the ceiling. A low stage took up one corner of the room, with a band already performing, their music thrumming through the crowd. The air was thick with excitement, and the smell of alcohol hung heavily. Wooden tables were scattered around, some closer to the stage where people stood cheering, while others nearer to the bar were quieter.

Lalemana’s eyes lit up at the sight, she made a beeline to an open seat by the bar, positioning herself with a good view of the stage. “Hey, give me a pint!” she called to the bartender, who expertly slid a drink her way in an instant.

Daisy struggled to push through the crowd to get to her. “Wait, milady—” but by the time she made it over, Lalemana had already gulped down half her pint.

With a content sigh, Lalemana set the glass down. “Ahhh! Nothing quite hits like commoner beer!” She turned, smirking at Daisy, who was glaring at her. “What? If you rat me out for drinking, I’ll tell them you let me out at night. We’ll both lose.” She gave a mischievous grin. “Come on, Daisy, loosen up a little. Hey, bartender, one for my friend too!”

Reluctantly, Daisy accepted the drink, although she knew she needed it just as much as Lalemana. She hadn’t had a single day off in six months of escorting her, and the allure of a cold pint after all this time was too tempting to resist.

Moments later, the crowd hushed as Mireya and her band took onto the stage. Her voice rang out clear and confident, “Good night, Sinners!”

A few cheers echoed back, though most of the crowd remained focused on their drinks.

Mireya leaned into the mic, her playful smile widening. “I said, Good night, Sinners!” This time much louder.

This time a blonde girl on the bar counter yelled as she had just seen the most famous singer in the country, her outburst catching a few glances, but most laughed it off, including Mireya, who chuckled from the stage.

“We’re Driven, and we call this piece ‘I Wanna Go Back Home.’ One, two, three!"

The music kicked off with a fast tempo, filling the room with energy.

“Leaving the house without saying a word, 

I’ve made it all the way out here…”

Lalemana grabbed Daisy’s hand, dragging her toward the crowd that had gathered near the stage. They pushed in between dancers, both of them laughing as Lalemana exaggeratedly acted out the song, pretending to be sneaking out of the royal residence once again.

“But once the sun goes down, 

I turn into a hopeless, sniveling mess…”

Lalemana clutched Daisy dramatically, faking tears as she mimicked the ‘hopeless, sniveling mess’ in the song. Daisy, unable to keep a straight face, burst into laughter, her frustration melting away as the lively atmosphere swept her up.

“The sky above the city is stained red, 

A crow cries as it passes on by…”

A man in a tattered jacket stumbled past them, looking every bit like someone who fit the song’s description. He paused to give a nod of approval to the two girls before disappearing into the crowd.

Lalemana, beaming with excitement, grabbed a stranger and joined a growing circle, twirling around in time with the beat. Daisy hesitated at first, but eventually, she too was dragged into the fun, letting herself enjoy the night.

“My long shadow, stretching out along this path, 

Pulls at my sleeve, urging me to head home…”

The lights of the bar flashed and pulsed with the music as the whole place seemed to come alive. People clapped, cheered, without a care in the world. Lalemana and Daisy spun in circles with a group of commoners, the atmosphere electric.

“The smell of grilled fish… 

The wonderful smell of dinner…”

Someone handed Lalemana a roasted skewer from a vendor near the back, and without missing a beat, she took a bite, grinning ear to ear. Daisy gave her a mock scolding look, but soon found herself laughing too, taking a bite when Lalemana offered her the skewer.

“Even my stomach begins to cry out, 

And I’m getting tired of being stubborn…”

Lalemana swung her arm around Daisy’s shoulder, pulling her into a rough embrace as the two laughed together, swept up in the night. Both of them let go of any pretense, joining in with the crowd as the music flowed through the bar.

“I really should go apologize right away—

Ahh, I wanna go back home!”

The song ended, the crowd roaring in approval, but the band kept playing, launching into another upbeat number. Time seemed to melt away, Daisy and Lalemana, red-faced and breathless.

"Encore, come on!" Lalemana shouted, as the band made their leave after playing a full set, waving yet another empty pint in the air, her face flushed bright red from all the drinking. "Driven! Driven! Driven!" she chanted, trying to rally the crowd behind her, but before she could get carried away, Daisy—equally flustered but still managing to keep her wits about her—grabbed Lalemana by the arm and dragged her back to the counter.

“Please, help me sober her up a bit!” Daisy pleaded with the bartender, half-dragging, half-guiding Lalemana back onto a stool. She tugged at Lalemana’s clothing, trying to cover her up a little more as she leaned over the bar. “A coffee, please!”

Just as the bartender was setting down a steaming mug, a voice that chilled Daisy to her core interrupted.

“My, my, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find you two here,” Mildred’s voice floated over the noise, her figure levitating a few seats away. Her face, though flushed like the others, bore the same sharp gaze as always. She floated closer, grabbing Daisy firmly by the shoulders, her smile both friendly and terrifying. "I can't wait to hear this story in full."

Daisy’s heart raced as her mind scrambled through a thousand disastrous outcomes.  Before she could stammer out a reply, another voice cut, just as unsettling.

"I guess I misjudged you, puppy," Mireya slurred slightly, appearing from behind with a pint of her own, looking more exhausted than on any training session with Lalemana, “I’ve invited her dozens of times, but you’re the first to actually bring her.” She clapped hands with Mildred, a handshake so intense it was like watching two titans collide.

Lalemana, oblivious to all, threw herself onto Mireya, her mouth moving a mile a minute in a drunken, unintelligible stream of praise, “—Annnnd you’re jusht soooo amazzzzing up there, with the thing and the... loud noises, I mean... the song! It wassss... wowww! Mireyaaaa... amazing... the bestshhh!"

“Y-yeah, thanks,” Mireya awkwardly patted Lalemana on the back before nudging her over to Daisy, who had now resorted to trying to force-feed Lalemana the coffee. “Finally made time to show up, huh?” Mireya gave a sly glance toward Mildred, shaking her head.

“I had a premonition,” Mildred said airily, “That something unusual would happen tonight, and lo and behold...” She gave a knowing smile. “I’d prefer to be invited to more intellectual events in the future, though,” she added, eyeing the scene around them.

Daisy, desperate to shift attention from the embarrassment unfolding in front of her, suddenly asked, “How do you two know each other?” She was practically shoving the cup into Lalemana’s mouth, who was still too far gone to resist.

“We’re old party members,” Mildred answered with a fond smile, pinching Mireya’s cheek.

“We go way back,” Mireya nodded, a little too proud of the cheek-pinching for Daisy’s comfort. “Started off as childhood friends with big dreams. I’d love to bore you with our tragic backstory, but seeing as it’s getting late...” She glanced meaningfully at the door, then at Daisy. “You might want to make your way back before someone notices.”

Daisy snapped into action, bowing heavily in front of them, so quickly that she accidentally let Lalemana slip out of her grip and plop onto the floor with a thud. “P-please keep what happened tonight between us!” Her voice shook as she lifted Lalemana back onto her feet, clearly panicked.

Mireya and Mildred burst into laughter, nearly doubling over from the absurdity.

“Relax, puppy,” Mireya said between giggles, wiping a tear from her eye. “Nothing happened tonight.”

“Yeah,” Mildred added with a wink. “I just saw an old friend here.”

Daisy bowed repeatedly, almost forgetting to hold Lalemana upright as she did so. "Thank you! Th-thank you!" She grabbed Lalemana, half-carrying her toward the exit, as Mildred and Mireya continued to laugh.

On their way back through the darkened streets, Lalemana needed to stop not once, but twice to throw up into the nearest bush or alley, Daisy grimacing each time. “How do you even hold that much beer, milady...?” Daisy muttered, trying to keep her composure as they continued their not-so-graceful journey home.

Part 3

A few days later.

Arcanletia was bustling like never before. Axis followers from across the country—and even from neighboring lands—poured into the already crowded city. The streets, usually chaotic, were overflowing with excited pilgrims, their energy palpable.

Back at the Royal Residence, Daisy hurried behind a maid, still confused by the urgency of Lady Marcella’s request. It was early morning, Lalemana should still be busy with her elaborate beauty routine. There was no real rush, or so she thought.

She noticed an unusual amount of activity. Maids were bustling around, arranging what seemed to be fancy dishes and decorations. “What’s going on?” Daisy asked the maid leading her.

“The Lady will explain it all, Daisy,” the maid replied with a cheerful smile. “Don’t worry, it’s a good thing. We just need your help.”

Daisy barely had time to register the scene before Lady Marcella swept in, hugging her tightly. “Ah, Daisy! Good, you’re here. We’ve got a big day ahead!”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Daisy greeted, bowing politely. “What’s happening today?”

Lady Marcella looked genuinely surprised. “She didn’t tell you? Ugh, why is that girl like this?” Daisy waited, a bit awkwardly, as Lady Marcella rubbed her temples. After a moment, she clapped her hands. “It’s Lulú’s 18th birthday! She’s officially an adult today!”

Daisy’s eyes widened in surprise, finally understanding the commotion around her. The maids were preparing for a celebration—fancy food, decorations, and likely a cake as well.

“I need you to keep Lulú in her room until the surprise is ready,” Lady Marcella continued. “Play dress-up with her or something—she loves that, and it’ll keep her distracted for hours. Just don’t let her out for a while, okay?”

“Yes, of course!” Daisy beamed. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face. What’s the surprise, if I may ask?”

“Not what, but who. Her father’s coming from Axel,” she said, placing a hand on her cheek with a fond smile. “Though who knows when he’ll get here. That man is always busy.”

Daisy nodded and made her way to Lalemana’s bedroom, expecting to find her busy with her usual morning routine. But when she opened the door, she was met with an unexpected sight—Lalemana was still lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Milady, are you all right?” Daisy asked, concern creeping into her voice.

“Huh?” Lalemana responded distantly, barely registering Daisy’s presence. “Yeah, all good.”

Daisy was taken aback. Lalemana was usually vibrant, especially on important days. “Aren’t you going to get ready?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“No, I don’t think so.” Lalemana’s tone was flat. “I want to be alone today. You can go back to your room. Just have a maid bring my meals.”

Something was clearly off, but Daisy pressed on, determined to keep her busy. “How about a sparring match?” she offered. “I’ll even stand in for Colonel Duffy if you’d like. Though I’m not sure I could keep up.”

Lalemana groaned and finally sat up, rubbing her face. “Ugh,” she muttered before dragging herself into the bathroom.

Left alone, Daisy’s gaze wandered to a stack of books on the nightstand. Lalemana’s odd collection of nursing manuals and sci-fi novels was expected, but one book caught her attention—Laws of the Kingdom of Belzerg? Why is she reading that? Daisy wondered.

She picked it up, flipping it open to the bookmarked page, only for her thoughts to be interrupted by a loud crash from the bathroom.

“Milady!?” Daisy rushed in, only to freeze in shock. There was a large hole in the stone wall, big enough for a person to crawl through.

Lalemana stood by the damage, trying in vain to cover it up. “H-Hey, uh, you want to help me get ready, right?” she stammered, clearly flustered. “Let’s just, uh, start, yeah?”

Daisy’s mind raced with questions, but she let herself be pulled back into the bedroom. Over the next hour, Lalemana went through her makeup routine, though without her usual precision or enthusiasm. Daisy did her best to make small talk, but her thoughts kept drifting back to that book and the mysterious hole in the wall.

A gentle knock on the door broke the tension. Lady Marcella stepped in with a wide smile. “Are you ready?” Lalemana barely had time to respond before being swept into a tight embrace. “Oh, Lulú, my precious little girl!” her mother cooed, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Morning, ma’am,” Daisy greeted with a polite bow.

“Come, let’s have breakfast,” Lady Marcella said, linking arms with her daughter and leading her out.

In the main hall of the Dustiness wing, a group of maids stood in formation, smiling brightly. “Happy Birthday, Lady Lalemana!” they said in unison.

Lady Marcella wiped her eyes dramatically. “Oh, my little girl is finally a woman!” she exclaimed, hugging her again.

“Congratulations on your birthday, milady,” Daisy said, bowing respectfully.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Lalemana mumbled, awkwardly shifting. “Isn’t Da—?”

“Ah, that stupid man!” Lady Marcella snapped. “Valerius, stop your dumb theatrics and come congratulate your daughter!”

Suddenly, a cloud of smoke appeared atop the grand staircase. A cloaked figure emerged, striking a dramatic pose. “Did you really need to ruin my entrance?” the figure groaned. “I had a whole thing planned—”

“Dad!” Lalemana beamed, running to him and pulling back the hood to reveal a middle-aged man with a blond mustache.

“Oh, Lally, since when did you get so big! I still remember when I was able to lift you—” he exclaimed, lifting her up by the hips—only for his knees to buckle, sending both of them crashing to the floor.

“Dad!?” Lalemana screamed in horror, her father knocked out cold.

A little later, the Dustiness family gathered for breakfast. The table was laden with fine food, but the mood was a little tense.

“So, Lally,” her father asked, rubbing his still-sore knees. “How does it feel to turn eighteen?”

Lalemana, her mouth full of hotcakes, mumbled, “Same as yesterday. I’m still a prisoner here, my life hasn’t changed.”

Her father nearly spat out his tea, coughing in surprise. “Ohohoho! Uh, well—Lady Arlenfelt!” He turned to Daisy with an exaggerated grin, as though desperately trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness. “I’ve heard you’ve been doing a wonderful job looking after my daughter.”

“Thank you, Archduke Dustiness,” Daisy replied with a polite bow. “Guarding Lady Lalemana is… certainly stimulating.”

Her father chuckled. “Yes, she’s quite a handful, isn’t she? Anyway, Lally, it’s your day. Whatever you want, we’ll make it happen!”

Lalemana finally paused, taking a sip of tea before answering flatly, “I want to leave the city.”

Both her parents coughed in shock. “Well,” her mother stammered, “I think that would be terrific Lulú—!” she stopped as her husband suddenly glared at her, “But I was thinking we could take a trip through the city, have lunch together… maybe do some shopping. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lalemana replied, sounding utterly uninterested.

Her cold demeanor cast a shadow over the breakfast table, and everyone—her parents, Daisy, even the maids—exchanged nervous glances.

After taking a trip around the city, the Archduke suggested they head to one of Arcanletia’s best restaurants for lunch. They chose a cozy spot near the city’s famous hot springs; one the Dustiness family had frequented for years. As they walked, the Archduke tried to keep the conversation lively, bringing up stories from his travels and cracking the occasional joke, but Lalemana stayed distant. She’d smile once in a while, but the spark in her eyes was dim.

Lunch proceeded smoothly, with Lalemana eating in silence while her father tried to poke fun at her more than once, at one point challenging her to eat more dumplings than him, saying he could still ‘out-eat his little Lally any day.’ He dramatically fanned himself after just two helpings, which made Lalemana give a small chuckle.

From there, the group decided to take a walk through the bustling markets, which were packed with Axis pilgrims and street performers, adding even more color to the already vibrant streets of Arcanletia. Lalemana’s father spotted a vendor selling unique gemstones and eagerly approached, pointing to a sapphire necklace.

Lalemana shook her head with a faint smile, “I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad.”

“Oh, so you think you’re too grown-up for presents now, huh?” He pretended to sulk, which finally elicited a smirk from her. But she still declined.

The day dragged on, each fleeting moment of connection between Lalemana and her parents interrupted by long silences. They visited an old bookshop that her father used to love, where he eagerly tried to get her interested in a rare volume of travel tales. Lalemana barely flipped through it before setting it down with a disinterested sigh.

Later, they wandered into a small amusement park. Her father, ever the optimist, insisted they try their hand at some of the games. Lalemana, thanks to her training with the Manaflare, had near-perfect aim, much to her father’s dismay. She easily won a large stuffed one-punch bear and handed it over to Daisy with a half-hearted wave.

Throughout the day, Lady Marcella tried to talk with her husband, but he swiftly avoided her every time.

By sunset, the mood had settled into a strange mix of melancholy and nostalgia. Lalemana wasn’t completely cold, but she was quieter than usual. Her father, sensing the mood, led them back to the Royal Residence with a final joke about how even though she was now an adult, she still couldn’t keep up with his boundless energy.

They returned home just as the sky turned a deep orange, the day concluding with an unspoken tension hanging in the air, something was weighing heavily on the mind of both Dustiness women.

After a brief rest, the Dustiness family gathered around for a lavish dinner, punctuated by light conversation. The maids had already started cutting the large birthday cake, meticulously dividing slices.

Archduke Dustiness cleared his throat, trying to bring back some levity. He placed a hand on Lalemana’s shoulder. “You still haven’t made your birthday wish, right? Go on, let’s hear it.”

“I already told you,” Lalemana said, as she took a sip from the herbal drink in the bulb shaped cup, just as her mother did, “I want to leave the city.”

The atmosphere shifted again. Her parents exchanged uneasy glances, the light conversation from earlier completely gone. Her father sighed, as he covered his wife’s mouth with his hand, “Lally, sweetheart, we’ve already discussed this. I just think it’s a bit too early for—”

“I don’t think you understand,” Lalemana cut in, her voice eerily calm. “I am leaving. As per the Kingdom of Belzerg’s Law, Chapter 14, Section 3, Subsection B, it states that, ‘Any citizen over the age of eighteen is recognized as a legal adult, free to do as they please within the bounds of the law.’” She recited the text with precision, clearly practiced. “Which means, I don’t have to obey you, or the Royal Guard, anymore.”

Her father’s face twitched, while her mother was ready to cheer.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love you both,” she continued, softening her tone just a little. “But I’m done living like this. I’m leaving with the Axis pilgrimage to Verdant Heights to meet the Sapphire Spirit.”

“Axis?!” her parents echoed in unison, panic flaring in their voices.

She waved them off. “Relax, I’m not joining the Axis Church or anything. It’s just the safest route. I’m supposed to be the chosen one, right? Well, I won’t be wasting any more time in this gilded cage.” Her voice turned quieter as she added, “I’ll recruit the Sapphire Spirit and defeat the Demon Queen.”

The last words hung heavy in the air. Her parents exchanged another glance, the weight of her decision sinking in. Lady Marcella tried to signal her husband to say something, but Lalemana cut her off again. “I’m doing this. With or without your support.” She stood up abruptly, bowing her head slightly. “But I’d really like your support.”

The tension was palpable as Archduke Dustiness scratched his chin, weighing his options. He placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder, “Phew... I’ll talk to the king. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Lalemana clenched her jaw, clearly dissatisfied with his answer. Without another word, she picked up her two slices of cake and made for the door.

“Wait, Lally, we haven’t—” her father called after her.

“I’m exhausted,” she replied curtly, not stopping. “I’m going to bed.” Daisy, ever dutiful, hurried after her.

Left in the dining room, Archduke Dustiness leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. His wife massaged her temples, clearly stressed.

Later that night, after a quick bath (Lalemana hastily covered a suspicious hole with a towel and shot Daisy a glare when she tried to peek), the two sat on the bed. It had become routine for Lalemana to brush Daisy’s hair at night while recapping the day. But tonight, her strokes were rough—borderline aggressive.

“Ow!” Daisy yelped, grabbing at a chunk of her hair that had been yanked a bit too forcefully.

Lalemana paused. “Sorry… I’m in a bad mood.”

Daisy tried to laugh it off, wincing as she touched the tangles. “I-it’s fine, milady. Your father said he’d talk to the king. I’m sure everything will be—”

Lalemana let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t know him. ‘I’ll talk to the king’ is code for ‘forget it, kiddo.’ He’s said that a thousand times since I was little, and the king’s never once agreed to anything I asked.”

She tossed the brush aside, ending the nightly ritual earlier than usual. “Sleep well, Daisy,” Lalemana murmured as she slid under her blankets.

Hours later, Daisy lay awake, listening for the now-familiar sound of Lalemana sneaking out. When she finally heard the soft creak of footsteps, she slipped out of bed, moving to follow her.

Stepping lightly, she trailed Lalemana down the darkened halls until they reached a familiar door. The faint glow of light slipped out from beneath it. Lalemana placed a plate with a slice of cake in front of it, sitting silently.

“I brought you some cake,” Lalemana whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s been a very long time, I really thought by now…” Her fists clenched, nails biting into her skin until she suddenly slammed her hand onto the floor. “…that you’d be better.”

Daisy held her breath as she watched. Tears shimmered in Lalemana’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

Then, across the hallway, a faint whisper broke the tension. Two young women stood by another door, beckoning Lalemana over. Without a word, she stood up and followed.

Inside, the space was unexpectedly luxurious for what was supposed to be a servant’s quarters. The two women hugged Lalemana tightly the moment she entered.

Lalemana’s eyes lit up the moment she saw them. “Sherry! Snow!” she called out, her voice louder than it should have been.

Sherry, a tall and poised noblewoman with a shock of blonde hair streaked with blue, immediately hushed her, placing a firm hand over Lalemana’s mouth. “Not so loud! Do you want to get us caught?”

Snow, the younger of the two with pale blond hair and a softer demeanor, hurried to the door, making sure it was securely closed. “She’s right,” Snow whispered. “If anyone finds out we’re meeting you, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Sorry,” Lalemana muttered, stepping back a little. Her heart raced—this was the first time she’d seen them in ages, and yet something about their faces told her this wasn’t just a reunion.

“Happy birthday. We wanted to go see you, but… well, you know how things are.” Snow said, resting a hand on Lalemana’s shoulder.

“How is she?” Lalemana swallowed, her eyes darting between them.  “Nobody tells me anything. I’ve been completely shut out.”

The air in the room thickened, Sherry and Snow exchanged. “That’s why we called you,” Snow began, her tone serious but still gentle. “She’s forbidden us from telling you… but we can’t stay quiet anymore.”

Sherry took over, her confident gaze faltering as she looked away. “She hasn’t improved. If anything… she’s worse. She can barely lift a sword these days.”

Lalemana’s heart sank. “But… they brought in the best priests, right? The healers? Someone must be able to help!”

Snow winced, her grip tightening on Lalemana’s shoulder. “They’ve tried everything. The priests say there’s nothing wrong with her body… nothing they can find, anyway. But she’s fading. Every day, she gets weaker.”

Sherry looked devastated. “She’s losing time. If something isn’t done soon…” Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Lalemana’s hands trembled. She felt like the world had just collapsed around her, but she refused to let it show. Not in front of them. “Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

“She didn’t want you to know,” Snow said softly. “She thought… it would be easier for you not to see her like this.”

Lalemana let out a bitter laugh. “Easier? How is any of this supposed to be easier? I’ve been running around wasting my time, and she’s…” She couldn’t finish. Her throat tightened, and tears pricked at her eyes.

Sherry stepped forward. “We couldn’t stand by anymore. You deserve to know the truth. She wouldn’t let us near you, but tonight… we couldn’t stay silent.”

Snow joined them, wrapping her arms around both of them. “I’m sorry. But you needed to hear it.”

Lalemana closed her eyes, taking in the comfort of their embrace, but inside mind was racing. She couldn’t stay idle. She pulled away after a moment, wiping her eyes and forcing a smile. “Thank you… for telling me.”

Snow nodded, her face still drawn with concern. “We’ll keep an eye on her. But…”

“You do what you need to do,” Sherry added quietly. “We know you won’t sit still after hearing this.”

Lalemana’s lips pressed into a thin line, determination steeling in her gaze. “No,” she said quietly. “I won’t.”

The next morning.

Daisy hurried to Lalemana’s room, her nerves on edge. The sounds coming from behind the door—a mix of clattering and thuds—had her worried, especially after the conversation the night before.

“Milady, is everything all right?” she called, pushing the door open.

Lalemana stood in the middle of the room, suited in full armor, her back turned to Daisy. She was furiously shoving clothes into a large travel bag with no sense of order.

“Just peachy, Daisy,” Lalemana replied flatly, not even glancing over her shoulder.

“What are you doing—?” Daisy started, her eyes going wide as Lalemana thrust a sparkling golden collar in her face, “Do you think this is worth much? I’ve got a dozen of these lying around. Should fetch a good price, don’t you think?”

Daisy blinked at the collar in disbelief. It was covered in intricate engravings and studded with precious stones, "M-Milady, of course it is, but what—"

Lalemana snapped her bag shut, cutting her off. “Well then, Daisy, goodbye.”

“W-wait! Milady, where are you going?” Daisy rushed to catch up as Lalemana breezed past her.

“I’m leaving,” Lalemana said, marching down the hallway without looking back. “I heard the Axis Church followers have flocked the city; the pilgrimage must be leaving soon. I’ll meet up with Arthur, he’ll give me a place to stay until they leave. I’m done with this house, with this life.”

The determination in Lalemana’s voice left no room for argument. Daisy knew there was no convincing her otherwise.

As they passed through the Dustiness wing, the maids, who would usually offer cheerful greetings, looked at Lalemana with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Many averted their eyes as she strode past.

When they reached the main doors, a row of knights stood in her path. At their head was the captain who had first entered the Dustiness wing months ago, wearing an unreadable expression.

“Out of my way,” Lalemana commanded, her voice barely contained.

“Good morning, Lady Dustiness,” the captain said, bowing slightly. He held out a sealed scroll, the king’s emblem visible on it. “I bring a message from His Majesty.”

“I said, out of my way,” Lalemana repeated, her tone sharpening. Some of the knights shifted uncomfortably, but the captain remained still, calm, and unwavering.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” The captain unrolled a scroll, ignoring Lalemana’s growing ire. “By decree of His Majesty, the King of Belzerg: ‘To Lady Lalemana Silver-Blade Dustiness, by virtue of her importance to the kingdom and her exceptional lineage, it has been deemed necessary to adjust—’”

“I don’t care about your royal decree!” Lalemana moved to push past him, but the captain held his ground, continuing to read.

“‘—to adjust her legal status in accordance with the needs of the country. From this day forth, certain rights, privileges, and responsibilities—’”

“Lalemana. Go back to your room,” came a cold voice from the stairs above.

Everyone, including the knights, turned to see Lady Marcella descending the main staircase with slow, deliberate steps. Her words carried an authority that made the air in the hall grow heavy.

“Mom, I’m lea—” Lalemana tried to speak, but her mother cut her off.

“Back. To. Your. Room,” she repeated, each word landing like a hammer.

The maids and knights alike seemed to shrink under her gaze, frozen in place. The captain, who had continued reading, now stood silent, waiting for permission to speak.

“Lady Marcella, I must—” he began, but Lady Marcella, without missing a beat, marched over and slammed the door shut in his face. The sound echoed throughout the hall.

For a long, tense moment, Lalemana and her mother stood facing each other, an unspoken battle of wills playing out between them. But even as an adult, fully armored and ready to fight the world, Lalemana was no match for the steely authority of her mother. She clicked her tongue in frustration, relenting with a sharp look.

Daisy followed, heart pounding, as Lalemana stormed back to her room. Lalemana slammed the door so hard that Daisy had to leap back to avoid it.

“Milady, please open the door!” Daisy pleaded, hearing a loud crash from inside.

Before she could try again, Lady Marcella appeared behind her, towering, battle axe in hand. “Tear down the door,” she said, voice cold and flat.

Daisy spun around, startled. “But ma’am—!”

“Tear down the door,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. “If you don’t, I’ll do it myself.”

Swallowing her fear, Daisy unsheathed her sword and carefully cracked open the lock. When she pushed the door open, the scene inside stopped her cold.

The room was in shambles. Lalemana stood in the center, sword in hand, surrounded by the wreckage of her furniture. Her hairdresser was broken into pieces, the once-pristine beauty products scattered and ruined. Her bed shredded.

And yet, Lalemana stood there, still armored, still with her bag on her back, her breathing heavy and ragged.

Daisy could only stare in stunned silence as Lalemana turned her eyes toward them—wild, defiant, but at the same time, lost.

Daisy cautiously stepped forward, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword as she moved toward Lalemana, who spun around to face her with eyes blazing. Daisy’s body reacted on instinct, leaping back, blocking the bathroom door. Her heart raced, and her mind flashed to when she’d fought monsters.

“Move,” Lalemana commanded, pointing her sword directly at Daisy. The intensity in her voice, sharper than the blade itself, sent a shiver down Daisy’s spine.

“M-milady, please calm do—” Daisy stammered, sweat trickling down her forehead as fear took root.

“I said, move,” Lalemana's sword crackled with light as its runes began to glow ominously. “If you stand in my way, you're my enemy. And I will strike you down.”

For a brief moment, Daisy glanced toward Lady Marcella, hoping for intervention. But she hadn’t even stepped into the room. It was just the two of them, and Daisy had to make a decision. With a deep breath, she straightened her back, calm washing over her as she released the strap keeping her sword at her waist.

“You misunderstand me, milady,” Daisy said quietly, holding her sheathed sword in both hands. Slowly, she approached Lalemana, keeping her movements deliberate and careful. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Lalemana’s gaze flickered in confusion, the runes on her sword dimming ever so slightly. The intensity in her eyes wavered, but she didn’t lower her weapon.

Daisy slowly knelt before her, lowering her head and extending her sword as an offering. “From this moment on, I, Daisy Arlenfelt, swear my loyalty to you. Not as your servant, but as your sword—to strike down your enemies, to shield you from harm. Whatever you ask of me, I will do.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Lalemana, completely taken aback, stared at Daisy, her face growing redder by the second. “...Eh?”

The tension dissolved like a popped balloon, leaving nothing but the stunned expressions of both girls.

“Well, well,” Lady Marcella chimed in from the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. “I didn’t think you’d steal the moment, Daisy.”

“M-mom, don’t try to stop me!” Lalemana stammered, trying and failing to sound tough. “I’m leaving and that’s final!”

“That you are, Lulú,” her mother replied, unfazed. She let go of the battle axe, the heavy weapon crashing to the floor with a thud. “But we’re going to do this the smart way. If you try to fight your way through the Royal Guard alone, you’ll only make things worse.”

“Mom…?” Lalemana blinked, her fiery resolve faltering for the first time. Before she could say anything else, her mother grabbed her by the sides of her head and lightly smacked her, earning a surprised yelp.

“Don’t go blaming your father for this,” her mother said, shaking her head. “He and I always want what’s best for you—we just disagree on the details. But, if you’re going to run off anyway, we might as well make sure you don’t end up a fugitive, and Daisy doesn’t end up in chains for helping you.”

Lalemana and Daisy stood there, dumbfounded as Lady Marcella calmly began formulating a plan.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” she said, crossing her arms. “We need to time this perfectly, so you leave with the Axis pilgrimage, unnoticed. Daisy, you’ll find out exactly when they’re departing.”

Daisy blinked, suddenly thrust into action. “M-me, ma’am? But if I’m seen wandering without milady, it might raise suspicion—”

“You’ll use Lulú’s secret exit, obviously. And drop the armor for something less... knightly. I doubt anybody’ll recognize you.”

“S-secret exit!? What are you talking about…?” Lalemana asked, eyes wide.

Lady Marcella flicked her forehead with a teasing grin. “Nothing happens in this house without me knowing, dummy. Now, get out of that armor before the staff starts asking questions. We’ll raid the treasure room and find something suitable for the Sapphire Spirit to take as tribute.”

Both girls, without further protest, hurried to change as Lady Marcella dictated, exchanging their battle gear for more casual clothes. Once ready, Lady Marcella led them to the bathroom. With the mighty battle axe in hand, she smashed through the hidden panel that Lalemana had tried so hard to conceal, turning it into a passage.

“Follow this,” Lady Marcella instructed Daisy, “it’ll take you to the sewer systems. From there, find a manhole to sneak out of. Be quick.”

With a nervous nod, Daisy squeezed into the passage and disappeared.

“Now, Lulú,” her mother said, gesturing for her to follow. Together, they made their way to her private quarters, where a hidden door led to the family’s treasure room.

Inside was a vast collection of valuables. The room gleamed with gemstones, glittering jewelry, and antique weapons displayed with care. Ornate chandeliers cast golden light on everything, the walls lined up with all sorts of fine art.

“This should do,” her mother finally said, selecting a large, ancient wine bottle from one of the shelves. “Over a hundred years old. Good enough I bet, but let’s grab a couple more, just in case.”

Lalemana, however, wasn’t looking at the bottle. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice small.

Her mother paused, then placed a hand gently on Lalemana’s cheek. “Because, Lulú, I’ll always support you. No matter what.” Then, without warning, she pinched Lalemana’s cheek so hard that she winced in pain. “You’re my bratty, stubborn daughter who never thinks things through. But I know you’re not doing this just for yourself. So, if I’m going to help, I’m going to help all the way.”

Later, back in Lalemana’s room, they waited for Daisy. Hours passed before the sound of shuffling from the bathroom caught their attention.

Covered in dust and panting, Daisy finally reappeared. “I-I met with Arthur,” she gasped. “The pilgrimage leaves tomorrow morning, at noon. He’s agreed to help us if we can meet him at the dormitories by dawn.”

“Well done,” Lady Marcella said with a nod. “Now, get your things ready. We still have some time to prepare.”

Battle axe in hand, she started hacking away at the secret exit, widening it so they could move through more easily. By noon, the three women, covered in dust, sat among the wreckage of the room, catching their breath.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed down the hall. A maid appeared, breathless, at the door. “Lady Lalemana—what in Eris’ name happened here?!”

“What’s the matter, Emily?” Lady Marcella asked nonchalantly, wiping the dust from her face. “As you can see, we’re quite busy.”

“Y-yes,” the maid stammered, trying to compose herself. “You’ve been summoned by the king immediately! Someone very important has arrived in the city!”

Daisy and Lalemana exchanged glances. “Someone important, huh?” Lalemana said with a smirk. “Wonder who that could be.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: A fateful meeting!

Part 1

A few days earlier.

The Axis Cathedral grounds buzzed with tension as church leaders bickered over recent concerns. Archbishop Auberon, lounging in his chair with his feet propped up on a lavish desk, seemed the only one unfazed.

“Yes, yes, that’s quite the pickle,” he mused, taking a lazy swig of tea.

“Huh, yeah,” Arthur, standing among the concerned group of priests and priestesses gathered in front of him, adjusted his glasses with a frown. “Look, Archbishop Auberon, I think we should consider canceling this year’s pilgrimage. It’s too dangerous.”

Auberon raised an eyebrow, finally pushing himself to sit up. “Tell you what, Artie: I’ll cancel it, if you’re the one to break the news to the thousands of Lady Aqua’s followers who’ve already flooded the city.”

“Archbishop Auberon, I enjoy a good prank as much as anyone,” Arthur continued, adjusting his glasses, “But this is serious, you read the report from the Royal Army, the Demon Queen’s Army has been advancing much faster, I just think—”

“Dangerous, schdangerous,” Auberon interrupted with a grin, waving his hand dismissively. “Artie, you’re underestimating the sheer might of Lady Aqua’s followers! We’ve got adventurers with advanced classes, you know?”

Arthur, eyebrows raised, clearly wasn’t convinced. “But even if we do… I just think calling in a brigade or two from the Royal Army wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fine, fine,” Auberon sighed dramatically. “I’ll request a full brigade from the king. Happy? The pilgrimage can’t be canceled, Artie. Not this year.”

Arthur tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “Why this year, though? It’s not like we haven’t canceled before. Remember five years ago? We had to scrap the whole thing because everyone in charge got plastered the night before departure!”

Auberon’s face grew oddly solemn. “I don’t know why, but… it feels like a sign from Lady Aqua herself. I have this… feeling. This pilgrimage is important, more than any before.”

Arthur gave him a skeptical look. “And, uh, this ‘feeling’ came to you…?”

Auberon’s seriousness vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Just came to me! Strong hunch,” he said, leaning back again. “Anyway, relax. I’ll handle the extra protection. Just… try to remind me a few times, alright?”

Part 2

A grand city materialized around Papitas as the blinding light of teleportation faded, revealing the vibrant streets and towering architecture of Arcanletia. Excited, she dashed forward, finally free to explore the first new city she’s seen in weeks.

“Wow, so this is the capital of this country!” she exclaimed, stopping to take in the sights.

“Temporary capital,” the knight captain corrected with a sigh. “Miss, I’ve already explained this to you.”

“Sure, because something that’s lasted for over two hundred years is really ‘temporary,’ right?” Papitas shot back with a playful smirk, “Anyway, good riddance, Axel. Here’s hoping I never see that dump again!”

“Let’s keep moving,” the captain said briskly, gesturing toward a waiting carriage beyond the bustling gate. “A carriage is ready to take us to the Royal Residence, you got a very important meeting.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Papitas replied, waving him off before throwing a glance at the circle of heavily armored knights around her. “Mind telling your people to back off a bit? You said I’m not a prisoner, remember?”

The captain cleared his throat. “Of course, miss. It’s just a precaution. Direct orders from the king—to ensure your safety.”

Papitas rolled her eyes as the group passed under the large gate leading to the city, though she craned her neck to catch glimpses of the sprawling cityscape. Her interest piqued as they approached a massive towering statue depicting two women.

“Who are they?” she asked, shoving through the guards to get a better look.

The captain pointed. “The city’s patrons. On the right, Lady Aqua, the goddess of the Axis Church, and on the left, Lady Serena, the first Grand Cardinal of the church. They say Lady Serena’s deeds are the reason the church is living in a golden age.” He delivered the speech with the precision of someone who’d recited it a hundred times.

Papitas eyed him suspiciously, “You happen to know a lot about the Axis, huh?”

“Well of course I do!” he replied proudly, “I never miss mass at the Axis Cathedral!”

Papitas grimaced, her mind flashing to her chaotic encounters with the Axis cultists back in Axel. She hurried into the carriage, not eager to continue the conversation. Her previous encounters taught her one thing quite clearly: she doesn’t want anything to do with the Axis.

Inside the carriage, she slumped into a seat far from the windows, surrounded by a wall of armored knights. Her irritation simmered as the captain joined, ensuring her every move was boxed in.

“Let me sit by the window,” she muttered, slipping on her sunglasses.

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question,” the captain replied sternly. “Orders are to keep you from attracting any unwanted attention.”

Papitas shot up. “Listen, you haven’t explained what the king wants with me, and since I’m apparently not a prisoner, I don’t see why I should follow your orders. If this is how it’s going to be, I’m leaving.”

The knights shifted nervously as Papitas grabbed the door handle. “W-wait, miss!” the captain stammered before hastily shoving one of the knights out of the window seat. “Here—please, sit by the window. Just… don’t draw attention.”

Papitas flopped down by the window, smirking as she took in the unfamiliar streets rolling by, glad to see a different view. The scene brought to mind her arrival back in Axel when the knights had found her at the guild.

“Send word to the Royal Residence!” the captain had barked back in Axel, half-panicked. “Tell them Code: Crimson is confirmed! Make preparations; we’re leaving at once!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” she’d deadpanned, to the utter disbelief of everyone in the guild.

“B-b-but, miss!” the captain had spluttered.

“Listen,” she’d said, folding her arms. “First of all, I have no idea where Arcanletia even is or why you’re after me. I can’t leave town anyway, I have a little debt and I’m pretty sure I’m not a wanted criminal, so I’ll just take a quest and be on my way—”

“Please, miss!” The captain had practically grabbed her by the arm, looking like he’d throw himself at her feet, “We don’t know the details ourselves; we just know that the king has been looking for a someone of the Crimson Magic Clan, and we were told to take one to him as soon as one was found!”

“Mmh…” Papitas had pretended to consider it, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “Well we are amazing after all, I mean all the adventurer parties in this town ran away, intimidated by my power. But I still can’t leave, you know, debt and all.”

With a determined flourish, the captain had placed a sealed decree on the guild counter. “By the king’s command, any and all debts held by Miss Papitas in Axel are hereby nullified.”

Papitas had raised an eyebrow, impressed but hiding it with a sly smile. “Debt’s cleared, huh? Well, you know… I still can’t go around on an empty wallet.”

Without missing a beat, the captain had dropped a bulging sack of coins at her feet. “One million Eris. Consider it an advance.”

“…well, you see—” Papitas scratched her cheek, searching for words.

“Miss, we’ve been given orders—and resources—to do everything necessary to bring you safely to Arcanletia,” the captain interjected, raising an eyebrow. “Within reason, of course. Please cooperate.”

Papitas groaned, lifting her arms in a halfhearted surrender, “Ugh, fine. But you better don’t be annoying.”

The knights erupted in cheers, and the captain sighed, relieved. “Hopefully, we’ll get a reward for this,” he muttered, barely hiding his exhaustion.

Before long, one of his underlings arrived with a message from Arcanletia: preparations were complete for the MVG, “Most Valuable Guest,” as he’d proudly proclaimed. The captain ordered his team to gather outside the guild.

“Well then, we’re off, come Miss Papitas,” the captain ordered his team to get ready.

“Yeah, yeah,” Papitas said while yawning and stretching, “I still want to know what you want from me though…”

Outside the guild, the captain ordered his team to group up, ready to cast Teleportation magic, “Alright, let’s go—!”

“Hold on,” Papitas interrupted, turning on her heel. “I just remembered—I need to buy something real quick. Be back in a bit!”

Before she could take two steps, all the knights practically screamed, “No!” in unison, their faces pale with panic.

“M-Miss!” the captain stammered, recovering from the collective heart attack. “Please, don’t run off like that! We can’t afford to lose you.”

“I wasn’t going to run off!” Papitas huffed, visibly offended. “Just wanted something for the trip, is all!”

“I’m sure whatever you need is readily available in Arcanletia,” the captain resumed, catching his breath, “Let’s just please go, we already reported to Arcanletia, we can’t make them wait.”

“Ohohohohohoho,” Papitas chuckled to herself as the carriage rolled forward, passing through increasingly extravagant streets. She didn’t notice the knights’ looks of horror as she tried out a series of over-the-top villainous laughs.

The traffic was also getting lighter and lighter, as the route the caravan that took Papitas moved to closed streets, by the time the reach a major avenue the caravan were the only vehicles in the street. Crowds of people gathered in the sidewalks to see what was happening, this kind of treatment was only reserved to very important foreign dignitaries after all, and there hasn’t been any announcement of one coming.

Papitas, of course, liked the attention, waving and blowing kisses, which promptly threw the captain into a tizzy. “Miss, please! A bit of discretion!” he hissed, eyes darting nervously at the crowd.

They finally arrived at an opulent mansion surrounded by rows of soldiers, blocking almost every inch of space. Rows of knights leading to the mansion’s main entrance, right where Papitas carriage stopped, stood a short man accompanied by a butler and a maid.

The carriage door swung open, and Papitas kicked it the rest of the way, standing proud in front of the army that came receive her, “Yes, it is I, Papitas of the Crim—!”, she was interrupted the by the captain, who hastily covered her mouth, causing them both to fall on the ground, “What are you doing!?” Papitas yelled after forcefully getting the captain off her.

“Miss, please I told you not to say where you’re from!” the captain retorted, dusting himself.

“Didn’t you say I was some kind of savior—!?” Papitas continued, her face full of dirt.

“Ahem,” the short, balding man in a crisp, expensive suit cleared his throat, eyeing the two with a mix of amusement and annoyance. His suit was exquisitely tailored, his mustache meticulously groomed, though his gleaming forehead hinted that his hairline had long since declared independence.

“What do you want fatty? Can’t you see we’re having a talk here?” Papitas got into the man’s face, before the captain forcefully got her to back off.

“P-prime Minister!” the captain yelled, “This is her, Miss Papitas, Code: Crimson. As you can see, she’s a bit …feisty.”

“Miss, could you remove the sunglasses,” the prime minister asked Papitas, seemingly unbothered.

“Not even introducing yourself and barking orders, do people in this country have no manners?” Papitas said, finally dusting herself off.

“Of course, how could I be so rude?” the prime minister said, “I am Gerald Frost, prime minister of the Kingdom of Belzerg…” his words trailed off as Papitas took off her sunglasses mid speech, revealing her bright crimson eyes. Frost paled as he began to sweat, the butler and maid behind him doing the same, “… have you fully checked!?” he turned to the captain.

“Y-yes of course, she was checked in the adventurer’s guild in Axel and we double checked ourselves, there’s no doubt. Miss Papitas is from the Crimson Magic Clan.”

“That’s right!” Papitas grinned, striking a ridiculous pose. “You wanted me because of the legendary power of my clan, right?”

Frost regained his composure, dabbing his bald forehead with a handkerchief. “Y-yes, of course. This way, please, Miss Papitas. His Majesty the King is expected to be back from the front lines shortly. Meanwhile, these two will attend to your every need and show you to our finest guest quarters,” he signaled to the butler and maid, he then leaned closer to them, making sure Papitas couldn’t listen, “Make absolutely sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Yes, sir!” both replied, nerves rattled but determined.

“N-now, please excuse me.” Frost shook Papitas’ hand, attempting a smile. “Make yourself at home, Miss Papitas. I’ll see you soon for your meeting with the king.”

As the prime minister scurried off, the butler and maid gestured for Papitas to follow.

Papitas placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “Well, whatever-your-name-was, I’m sure my upcoming heroics will make you proud. Later!” She trotted after the staff, barely containing her excitement.

Papitas barely kept her jaw from dropping at the sheer opulence of the Royal Residence’s main hall. An immense chandelier dominated the ceiling, dripping with hundreds of shimmering crystals, casting a soft, golden light across the polished marble floors below. In the center, a grand staircase rose like something out of a book, carpeted in rich scarlet with golden accents. Paintings and statues lined the walls, with gilded frames and busts of past rulers, each artwork more extravagant than the last. Maids and guards moved seamlessly about, glancing her way but keeping their distance, clearly aware of their peculiar guest.

“This way,” the butler intoned, gesturing up the staircase with an almost theatrical bow.

As they climbed, a maid sidled up to Papitas. “Miss, would you like anything to eat or drink? We have only the finest ingredients, the chefs will make anything you desire,” she said, her gaze lingering a bit too long.

Papitas gave a polite smile. “Thanks, but I’m good. Already stuffed myself at the Axel adventurer’s guild.” She rolled her shoulder, wincing a little. “Though, I could use a quick nap...”

The maid perked up immediately, moving in just a little too close. “Oh, the bed in your room is very comfortable. But if you’d like,” she leaned in, a mischievous gleam in her eye, “I could give you a nice, relaxing massage first. I know my way around every muscle of the female body...” She wiggled her fingers in a strange, wavy motion, her face flushed.

Papitas chuckled nervously, edging away from the maid’s intense gaze as they reached the third floor. A knight followed them, his eyes sharp and watchful.

The butler led her to a massive, luxurious bedroom fit for royalty. The bed was a four-poster draped in thick, silk curtains, with pillows fluffed to a height that could practically swallow a person whole. A large, ornate hairdresser sat in the corner, lined with neatly arranged bottles and brushes. To the side was a marble-tiled bathroom complete with a spacious sunken tub that could fit several people comfortably.

Papitas practically threw herself onto the bed, letting out a long, contented sigh as she sank into the mattress. “Ahhhhhhh… First time I’ve laid on a real bed in weeks!”

The butler bowed at the doorway. “Miss, Erika here will attend to your every need,” he said, motioning toward the maid, who grinned with an enthusiasm that seemed over-eager. “If you require anything else, you may call for me as well. But please, do stay in this room until you’ve had your audience with the king.”

Erika’s eyes gleamed. “M-miss, why don’t you take a bath to unwind?” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, inching a bit closer. “I could help wash your hair, o-or scrub your back if you’d like... heh-heh-heh!”

Papitas barely heard her, already half-asleep on the bed, lost in blissful relaxation.

“Well then, Erika, she’s in your care.” The butler nodded and exited, turning to the knight stationed outside. “You’re aware of her importance but let me reiterate: under no circumstances is she to leave this room until her audience. Understood?”

“Of course,” the knight replied crisply, standing at attention.

A couple of hours later

“Ow! Erika not so rough…” Papitas said, her voice muffled.

“Ah, I’m so sorry, Miss Papitas!” Erika said, her voice breathy and just a tad too eager. “It’s just…your body is so beautiful.”

“It’s my first time, please be a little gentler…”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and the butler entered with a tray laden with refreshments. “Miss Papitas, Erika, are you—?” the butler dropped mid-sentence, and stopped for a moment, regaining his composure before resuming, “Erika, why are you only wearing a towel?”

“H-huh!? W-well, my uniform got all wet when I helped Miss Papitas bathe,” Erika replied looking away a big smile on her face, only a towel covering her curvy figure. In front of her laid Papitas, also covered in just a towel, on a massage table.

“Very well.” The butler cleared his throat, snapping back to attention. “Now, Miss Papitas, I’m here to assist you before you meet His Majesty.” He gestured, and several maids entered, carrying trays laden with finely embroidered gowns in a variety of vibrant colors.

Papitas sat up, eyeing the dresses with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, no, I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Miss Papitas, that attire you were wearing was clearly dirty and battered,” the butler said forcing a smile, “it may not be fitting to wear before the king.”

“I’m not wearing a dress,” Papitas insisted more sternly, “My clothes are… traditional Crimson Magic Clan clothes, wouldn’t that be better? I mean, you want me because I’m from the Crimson Magic Clan and all.”

The butler hesitated, looking to the collection of dresses in despair. “You have a point… a Crimson Magic attire would indeed be fitting. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” He looked around. “Now, if only we had it washed…”

“Where are my clothes anyway?” Papitas said, looking around the room.

“Oh! Um… here!” A maid sheepishly lifted Papitas’ clothes hidden behind some furniture. Erika turned her head away, but a tiny, guilty smile lingered on her face.

After hurriedly getting dressed, Papitas made her way toward the door, but the butler blocked her path, gesturing to a dressing table where two maids stood armed with hairbrushes.

“A moment, Miss Papitas,” he insisted, his expression brooking no argument. “We can’t allow you to meet the king with such, ah… disheveled appearance,” then after a brief pause, “Erika, please get dressed,” the butler suddenly ordered to the maid that hadn’t taken her eyes off Papitas for an instant.

To the maids, used to work with the fine hair of nobles, working with Papitas poorly kept and wild hair was quite the struggle, made worst of all because the owner of said hair was wholly uncooperative in the whole process. It took several rounds of brushing, sighing, and muttering, Papitas wincing every few seconds, until they finally got it to a state that might—at a stretch—pass as presentable.

The butler gave a polite nod of approval, leading her out of the room and down the corridors of the Royal Residence. Papitas couldn’t help but stare as they moved further up passing even grander tapestries, each floor more extravagantly adorned than the last.

Eventually, they stopped in front of an enormous set of double doors, flanked by two towering knights in full armor, gleaming and imposing.

“This is as far as I go,” the butler said, his expression serious. “Please do mind your manners before His Majesty.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Papitas’ eyebrow quirked up as she stared at the imposing doors.

With a quick glance at the waiting knights, she put her hands on the doors and gave them a shove. They swung open with a groan, far heavier than they looked. The knights exchanged stunned glances as Papitas strolled in, leaving them scrambling to close the doors behind her.

At the far end of the room sat a man who looked more worn-out than regal, his chin propped up on one hand as he studied her approach. He wore no crown, and his relaxed posture made it hard to believe he was the king at all.

Prime Minister Frost hurried over, practically wringing his hands as he whispered, “M-Miss Papitas, it’s customary to kneel before His Majesty.”

“The Crimson Magic Clan bows to no one,” Papitas didn’t break eye contact with the king,  she stopped a few paces away and pointed at him. “Alright, I’m here. So, what’s this about?”

“Your Majesty—!” Frost desperately attempted to lower Papitas’ arm.

The king chuckled, lifting a hand to quiet him. “No need, Minister. When you called her wild, it was no exaggeration.” He grinned at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Frankly, I was expecting a big hat and a staff. From the looks of you, I’d have guessed Martial Artist, not Archwizard.”

Papitas blinked. “Huh? That’s because—”

“No matter.” The king waved her off, rising from the throne, “Miss Papitas, your arrival is nothing short of a miracle. We have much to discuss…”

Part 3

As Lallemana delicately cleaned her face, deliberately slow and with a hint of defiance, the lead maid behind her wrung her hands anxiously. “Milady, please hurry! The Royal Guard said the king’s summons is urgent. The King’s already waiting in the throne room!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lalemana said, clearly not caring, “He’s never hurried for me, I don’t see why I should—ack!”

“Stop acting like a spoiled brat, Lulú!” Lady Marcella strongly whacked her daughter in the head, “Don’t make the king wait, quickly clean yourself and go!”

“Alright, alright!” she quickly dusted herself off, and left the room, softly touching the spot where her mother hit her, “Ugh, what a bother.”

“Cheer up, milady,” Daisy said, catching up with her and attempting a comforting smile. “Maybe whatever your father told the king worked! …And maybe we trashed your bedroom for no reason…” Her voice trailed off at Lallemana’s doubtful expression.

“Yeah, right,” Lalemana scoffed, “It must be related to that royal decree that pinhead tried to show me earlier.”

The two ascended through the Royal Residence’s upper halls, Lallemana’s icy glare enough to keep any passing servants or guards from even looking at her way. As they approached the grand hallway to the throne room, they saw a small balding man nervously pacing back and forward in front of the large double doors.

“Lady Dustiness, finally! What kept you—?” Minister Frost barked, visibly relieved yet annoyed as he hurried toward her.

Without so much as a glance at him, Lalemana strode past, stopping in front of the doors. “Well? Are you opening these doors or are you going to stand here all day?” she demanded with a tone that left no room for discussion.

The towering knights on either side exchanged wide-eyed glances before scrambling to pull the heavy doors open, visibly straining as they created just enough space for her to pass through.

“Lady Arlenfelt,” Frost said hastily, stepping in front of Daisy as she attempted to follow. “Only Lady Dustiness is permitted inside. This meeting is of utmost secrecy.”

Daisy stopped, looking uncertainly at Lalemana, who gave her a brief nod before slipping through the gap. As the doors shut behind her, she found herself in the throne room. A lone figure leaned against one of the grand pillars nearby, but Lalemana didn’t so much as glance in their direction as she made her way to the throne.

“Ah, Lady Dustiness, finally you’ve arrived!” The king, in an unusually buoyant mood, lifted his arms as though he intended to embrace her. “I have the most wonderful news!”

Lallemana paused, her gaze unwavering as she sharply knelt in respect. “Let me guess,” she said dryly, rising just as quickly. “You’re promoting me from ‘MVP to ‘Gilded Prisoner’? Can we drop the act?” She held her wrists together, presenting them as though expecting to be cuffed. “Come on, throw me in a cell. What’s stopping you?”

The king’s expression faltered; his enthusiasm visibly dampened by her biting words. An awkward silence settled over the room until a voice casually broke through.

“Is this her? What’s her deal?” The girl by the pillar, wearing sunglasses and munching on sweets, raised an eyebrow. “Did she chip a nail on the way here or something?” She popped another snack in her mouth, the crunch echoing in the quiet room.

Lalemana’s jaw practically hit the floor, her anger dissolving into utter disbelief. “Wha…? Who is this?” she finally managed, staring at the commoner chomping on sweets in the throne room.

“Oh! Right, let me explain,” the king stammered, looking momentarily flustered. “Miss Papitas here is the reason for your urgent summon. It seems Lady Eris has finally answered our prayers!”

What kind of name is that!? Lalemana’s mind raced, trying to comprehend what “Papitas” was doing here of all places.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me,” Papitas said, waving her hand dismissively as she popped another sweet in her mouth.

“I… I don’t understand,” Lalemana said, her voice edging on desperation. “Who is she? What’s going on?”

“Of course!” the king replied, smacking his forehead as if just remembering something. “Miss Papitas, would you kindly remove your sunglasses?”

Lallemana’s eyes widened as Papitas slowly pulled off her sunglasses, revealing brilliant red eyes. Her thoughts leaped from one conclusion to the next before finally landing on one undeniable fact: C-Crimson Magic Clan!? She’s from the Crimson Magic Clan!

“Name’s Papitas,” the girl said, extending her hand for a shake with the confidence of someone who had just introduced herself to nobility while talking with her mouth full. “Guess we’ll be working together, huh?”

“Uh… gwah… aaah…” Lalemana could barely string a syllable together, her mind still in shock.

“Nice to meet you, uh… Uwa, was it?” Papitas said with a grin, giving Lallemana’s limp hand a shake. “Finally, a somewhat normal name around here. You know the king’s name is Magnus? I mean, what kind of name is that, right?” She burst into a chuckle, evidently pleased with herself.

The king joined in, chuckling warmly. “Ah, no, no! She’s Lady Lalemana Silver-Blade Dustiness, daughter of a dear friend of mine. She’s been waiting for this day her entire life—hence the shock.”

“Well, anybody’d be stunned in the face of my power! Ohohohohoho!” Papitas let out an odd, over-the-top laugh that jolted Lalemana from her daze.

“B-but then… t-this girl… we can f-finally…” Lalemana talked at a speed making it hard to understand.

“Yes, Lady Dustiness,” the king proclaimed, chest puffed with pride. “The prophecy is finally falling into place. We’re halfway to the legendary party! Now we just need the blue—”

“S-spirit… S-sapphire… P-pilgrimage…” Lallemana murmured, clenching a fist and shaking it excitedly, though her words were hardly coherent.

“Ah, I see you know of it too!” the king said, nodding in approval. “Just yesterday I met with Archbishop Auberon. Tomorrow, the Axis Pilgrimage will leave to visit the Sapphire Spirit, and he’s asked me to provide extra protection. Destiny is unfolding, Lady Dustiness! Everything is aligning at last!”

“I-I’m… g-going…!?” Lalemana wheezed, face turning bright red as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Of course you are, Lady Dustiness! This is what you’ve trained for your whole life! And with Miss Papitas at your side, I’m sure you’ll succeed in recruiting the Sapphire Spirit’s aid. She’s a highly capable adventurer, after all. Together, you’re bound for greatness!” the king said, holding her by the shoulders, his enthusiasm palpable.

Lalemana could only let out a strangled gasp, eyes rolling as she wobbled, her pale face going slack. Then, with all the grace of a toppled statue, she collapsed in the king’s arms.

Papitas tilted her head, nonplused as she watched Lalemana faint, her eyes going blank. “Did she just pass out? Yeah, I get it. People get overwhelmed by my sheer strength all the time.” She shrugged, returning to her sweets as if fainting nobility were an everyday sight.

“Miss Papitas, please bring some water!” the king called, as the large double doors swung open and Minister Frost came hurrying in—though “hurrying” for him was more of a winded, shuffling jog.

"Y-Your Majesty..." Frost wheezed, dabbing at his brow, "I—I really must insist... It’s too risky. Lady Lallemana and Miss Papitas should stay here. Let’s send an elite regiment to retrieve the Sapphire Spirit—"

“I’m not staying here,” Papitas muttered, popping yet another sweet. “Your king said I’m supposed to save the world, so I’m not wasting my time sitting around this city. There’s a Demon Queen out there, and she needs her ass kicked.”

“Miss Papitas, we can’t allow that, you must—” Frost began, his tone dripping with forced patience.

“Hold on there, shorty,” Papitas interrupted, casually shadowboxing as she stepped toward him, causing Frost to flinch and stumble back. “I don’t take orders from you, or anyone else for that matter. I’m going to find that spirit, and then I’m gonna whoop the Demon Queen’s ass—prophecy or not. How did you listen to what we were saying anyway? Those doors are very heavy—”

“Y-your Majesty—!” Frost turned, appealing to the king.

“I’m not staying either,” Lallemana declared, setting down her now-empty glass of water with a flourish. “This is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. We’re getting the spirit.”

Frost glanced desperately at the king, who only shrugged. “It’s fate, Minister. We can’t afford to delay, not with the Demon Queen’s forces advancing in the south. And with the Axis Pilgrimage tomorrow…” the king mused aloud. “It’s simply too perfect a timing. I’ll speak with General Brocker—we’ll arrange for an elite squad to escort these two. We may even need additional reinforcements; Archbishop Auberon’s request couldn’t be a coincidence either…”

With that, the king strode past Frost, the two girls following close behind. The minister remained frozen in place, his face a mask of suppressed frustration, fists clenched tightly.

“Well!” the king said over his shoulder as he continued down the corridor. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted! You’re a party now, after all! Good time to become friends!”

I’m finally in a party again! Papitas thought, barely containing her grin.

I’m finally getting out of this city! thought Lallemana, wearing the same mischievous smile.

For a moment, the two looked more like aspiring villains rather than heroes.

“Actually, hold up!” Papitas suddenly paused. “I want to check out that book you mentioned earlier.”

“The Crimson Codex?” The king raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Surely you must have read it on the Crimson Magic Islands—it must be a foundational text for your people.”

“…oh, yeah, totally!” Papitas said with a dismissive wave. “I just need to see if it’s… y’know, any different here.”

“Ah, splendid idea! Having a Clanswoman examine it herself could yield insights.” The king’s eyes brightened as he gestured at the heavy double doors. “I’ll summon some of our scholars—they’d have plenty of questions for you, no doubt. This way,” after the knights opened the heavy double doors of the throne rooms, the king gave quick orders to some aids and then led the way to the library.

As the group moved forward, Lalemana followed with her mind racing, too distracted to hear the soft voice at her side.

“MILADY!” Daisy pinched Lalemana’s cheek, finally getting her attention.

“Ow! Daisy, what’s your problem?” Lallemana snapped, snapping out of her daze.

“What’s yours, milady? I’ve never seen you like this before! Who’s that girl with the king?” Daisy asked, pointing at Papitas as she casually conversed with the king.

Lallemana’s eyes sharpened. “Change of plans Daisy, go tell my mom to stop. I’ll explain everything later, there’s a lot to sort out,” she added, already hurrying off after the king and Papitas.

As Papitas and the king walked through the grand corridors like old friends, her laid-back chatter turned heads among guards and servants alike. But the king, for all his rank, just chuckled along, unconcerned. When they finally reached the royal library, he gestured grandly to two waiting scholars.

“These two are our foremost experts on The Crimson Codex,” he announced, gesturing to a woman and her young assistant in scholarly robes. The lead scholar adjusted her spectacles and broke into a broad grin.

“It’s such an honor!” she gushed, vigorously shaking Papitas’ hand. “My name is Jessica Angels—my family has studied the codex for generations!”

“Yes, nobody knows more about the codex than Miss Angels here,” the king gave her a pat in the back, “I’m sure she’ll be able to answer any questions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to, I’ll be sure you see you off with the pilgrimage tomorrow,” and with that the king took his leave, two towering knights following his every move.

Jessica’s assistant, carrying an armful of parchment, nodded enthusiastically. Papitas barely had time to nod back before Jessica bombarded her with questions about the Crimson Magic Clan, like an excited fan meeting their hero.

“Uh, could you maybe… let go?” Papitas finally muttered, gently prying her hands free.

“Oh! Sorry!” Jessica stammered, her voice going high with embarrassment. “It’s just… I’ve waited all my life to meet someone from the Crimson Magic Clan in person! They never allow scholars like us to visit, only merchants get approved…” She sighed wistfully. “You have no idea how rare it is to speak to someone from your clan. …it’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, I get it, I’m very special,” Papitas puffed up, hands on her hips. “Now, show me the book. And, oh—” she turned pointedly to Lalemana, “I don’t think you need to tag along, really.”

Lalemana blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I forgive you. I don’t just mean to see the book, this whole quest thing, you know?” Papitas drawled, eyeing Lalemana’s smudged eyeliner, “I need serious allies for this whole ‘save-the-world’ thing. You know, ones who can break a sweat without wrecking their makeup.”

Jessica looked horrified. “But—b-but the prophecy says—”

“You will be the one assisting me, commoner” Lalemana cut in icily, “and I can assure you, I am more than capable of holding my own.”

The room chilled as the two exchanged a hard, silent glare.

“Uh, this way, please!” Jessica squeaked, guiding them to an elevator that led to the codex chamber. Papitas and Lalemana followed in tense silence, the faint hum of the elevator ticking away the seconds of their unspoken rivalry.

“Here we are, Miss Papitas.” Jessica gestured to three ancient tomes on a pedestal. “These are the volumes of The Crimson Codex. They cover everything from the legendary party’s journey to various historical legends of the time: the silver-haired thief that terrorized nobles, the first Idol group in Axel, the magic ring that… um, never mind that last one. And many more!”

Lalemana ignored her, flipping a tome open to the prophecy’s page, “This is the part that matters to us,” showing her the page that mentioned the prophecy.

Papitas squinted. “Right. Well, I am from the Crimson Magic Clan, but you don’t exactly look like a Crusader to me. A little… frail, maybe.”

“Excuse me?” Lalemana’s tone was dangerously calm. “The prophecy only says, ‘Dustiness noblewoman.’ I’m the first one in generations. Whether you approve or not is irrelevant.”

“Uh huh, well, I don’t really care about this prophecy, but the story of the legendary party is the same from the islands, except for your family being involved. Still though, I’d rather have a truly powerful companion—”

“Are you questioning my abilities, commoner?” Lalemana interrupted, fire in her eyes.

“M-miss Papitas, is there anything interesting in the tomes that you can find, maybe you know something about its author?” Jessica again desperately tried to stop a fight from breaking out.

Papitas skimmed one of the tomes and froze, staring at the title:

[THE GREATEST STORY EVER TOLD

by

Arue]

She forcefully slammed the book shut.

Jessica flinched, “Please be careful, they’re quite old! But, um, tell me, do you know anything about… Arue?”

Papias averted her gaze from Jessica and Lalemana as the two curiously started looking at the girl. Oh, I know about Arue, everybody in the Crimson Magic Islands knows about her, she’s usually regarded as the mother of Crimson Magic Literature, several of her stories are still popular to this day, Papitas thought, but Arue’s history went deeper, Miss Morocho once told us that while she wrote several history books, scholars agree that as cool as they may sound maybe 30% of their contents are actual history, it’s better to just regard her as a fiction writer.

Jessica and Lalemana got closer to the girl, who paled as if she’d seen a ghost.

These people based the future of their country on something a girl wrote 500 years ago just to hook readers!

She cleared her throat., “All good, this is just how we close books in the Crimson Magic Islands. Arue is a well-known historian, and everything in these books is 100% factually correct.”

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh what have I gotten myself into!? She thought, resisting the urge to scream. I even told that Magnus guy I was an Archwizard so he’d give me money and send me on an epic quest, and now I’m supposed to save the world with a pampered noble and some blue ghost?

“Well,” Lalemana interjected smoothly, “I’m sure you can see the importance of our partnership now. The prophecy clearly—”

Papitas gave her a sidelong look, unimpressed. “I mean, maybe the blue spirit thing works, but we need more firepower other than me… well I could beat the Demon Queen on my own of course, but… you? You’d probably faint if you chipped a nail.”

“I won’t take that from some country bumpkin that has never even brushed her hair,” Lalemana’s anger finally got to her, “I’m fully capable of beating anyone …even you.”

“Oh yeah?” Papitas dropped the book, stepping toward her. “You sure talk big for someone who’s probably never thrown a punch.”

Jessica flailed, desperate to stop them. “Uh, Miss Papitas! Lady Dustiness! M-maybe we can—”

“I’ll gladly demonstrate, commoner,” Lalemana replied, standing tall, “if you’re so eager to humiliate yourself.”

“How about here and now then?” Papitas said, her eyes glowing, “I’m ready to kick your ass,” the tension in the room so palpable neither Jessica nor Lalemana noticed Papitas standing on the tips of her toes to meet Lalemana at eye level.

Minister Frost entered the room just then. “Now, now,” he said, holding up his hands. “Perhaps a spar in the Royal Guard’s training grounds would be appropriate. It’s useful for allies to understand each other’s skills, don’t you agree?”

Neither woman looked his way, locked in their own private war.

“I hope you don’t mind a little bruise on that pretty face, noble,” Papitas said, her eyes narrowing.

“You’ll eat your words, commoner,” Lalemana said, as she turned to leave, “I’ll go for my armor.”

“Lead the way, baldy. By the way, how did you hear what we were talking about?” Papitas barked to Frost, her eyes blazing with anticipation.

A short while later, a fully armored Lalemana stormed down the corridor to the royal training room, Daisy in tow.

“Are you sure this is a good idea milady?” Daisy asked, not for the first time, “If she’s truly from the Crimson Magic Clan, that means she’s an Archwizard—and a powerful one at that. A duel could be…well, risky.”

“No one insults me and gets away with it,” Lalemana huffed, her armored boots clicking with resolve. “If I’m forced to travel with that commoner, she’s going to learn some manners.”

They reached the training room just as a loud thud reverberated through the door. Inside, they saw Papitas hitting a heavy sandbag with such intensity that the bag swung erratically. Several royal guards and even Minister Frost stood around, clearly stunned by the petite girl’s strength.

“Finally! I was beginning to think you chickened out,” Papitas smirked, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead as she turned toward them.

The training room sprawled before them, a grand space lit by large windows casting dappled sunlight over training dummies in armor, stacks of sandbags, and racks of wooden weapons. Above, balconies lined the walls, with royal guards peering down to watch. Clearly, word had spread of the impromptu match.

“Don’t intervene,” she muttered to Daisy, selecting a wooden sword from the rack. She pointed it squarely at Papitas. “You! Where’s your staff or wand or…whatever?”

Papitas raised a brow, crossing her arms in disinterest. “Don’t need any of that to take you down,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll fight bare-handed. That’ll be enough.”

“What? An Archwizard without magic?” Lalemana said incredulously.

Minister Frost, standing nearby as the designated referee, interjected, “Actually, Lady Dustiness, it’s not uncommon for Archwizards to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Advanced magic requires a bit of preparation, and wielding advanced magic at close range could…well, blow up half the building.”

Lalemana glanced at Daisy for confirmation.

She nodded. “Many of my wizard colleagues trained in hand-to-hand combat. In closed spaces, it’s safer for everyone.”

Lalemana sneered. “It still feels unfair to use a sword against someone bare-handed, even if it’s an uneducated commoner,” she muttered, casting a side-eyed glance at Papitas.

Papitas, unfazed, stretched her arms nonchalantly. “I know how to use spears,” she offered, then grinned. “But really, my fists are more than enough for you. So, come at me, noble.”

In the crowd above, guards exchanged eager murmurs. One guard nudged his colleague. “My money’s on the little one,” he said, eyeing Papitas.

“The foreigner?” his friend scoffed. “She’s strong, but that sword’s enough to knock her out cold if it lands, she’s so small.”

“I just want to see her knock that spoiled brat down a peg,” another guard muttered, earning chuckles of agreement from his fellows.

Lalemana clenched her jaw, drawing herself into a fighting stance. Minister Frost raised his hand, signaling the start. “Friendly sparring only. Nothing too extreme…though the winner may just be crowned our legendary party leader. Ready? Begin!”

Lalemana lunged forward, the tip of her sword aimed at Papitas’ side. But Papitas sidestepped with a flourish, using Lalemana’s head for support as she leapt over her. Lalemana staggered, thrown off balance.

“Too slow!” Papitas taunted, throwing a light jab toward Lalemana’s face that stopped just short, the force stirring the air. Lalemana flinched but held her ground, her glare intensifying.

She clicked her tongue before going into the offensive again, swinging the wooden sword in a broad arc. Papitas hopped backward, taunting her with a playful salute.

“Aw, just missed me! Was that your best swing?”

Another thrust, and Papitas effortlessly dodged, casually twisting aside. She barely seemed to exert herself, her laughter echoing as she kept taunting: “Almost got me!”, “Come on, don’t be shy!”, “Oops, that one was close—oh, wait, no, it wasn’t.”

Lalemana’s movements grew more frantic, her irritation mounting. Her swings began to lose precision, leaving openings that Papitas danced through with ease. On the balconies above, the guards were trying to stifle their laughter.

“So…those gauntlets,” Papitas said, ducking under another wild swing, “what’s with the runes?”

Lalemana’s response was a furious snarl as she swung again, her sword whooshing past Papitas’ ear.

“Feel free to use them! Not like it’ll help you,” Papitas continued, flashing a grin as she shadowboxed a few mock punches.

Wordlessly, Lalemana lunged herself at Papitas, point of the sword first only for Papitas to effortlessly parry it with the back of her hand, “You know, I should be attacking too!” she said as she tried to punch Lalemana with her other hand, her fist passing right by Lalemana’s ear.

Lalemana jumped back to get some space, but Papitas was faster—her fist came in low, aimed at Lalemana’s stomach, narrowly missing. Her next kick arced past Lalemana’s legs, missing by mere inches.

Undeterred, Papitas continued her assault, each strike barely glancing past her target. Her punches were forceful but poorly coordinated, one narrowly grazing past Lalemana’s shoulder, another just barely missing her nose. Lalemana could feel the rush of air from each near-hit, her heart racing as she parried desperately.

In a last-ditch move, Lalemana lunged into the air, her sword raised. But just as she closed in, Papitas swept her leg forward in a powerful kick. Lalemana managed to block it with her sword, Papitas’ strike sending her flying to the other end of the training room, the sword shaking out of the power impact. Before Lalemana could gather her thoughts, Papitas was on the offensive again.

What is that girl doing? Daisy thought, her hand hovering on her sword's hilt, Is she actually trying, or just messing with milady on purpose? A confident smile formed on her lips as she watched Lalemana fumble forward, But milady isn’t giving her all, this is nothing like how she spars with Captain Duffy.

In contrast, Papitas' thoughts were a world away from calm. Aaaaaargh, stop moving! Why can’t I hit her!? I’ve improved my accuracy a bit, why do I keep missing?

The air snapped as Papitas’ fist met Lalemana’s wooden sword, sending both of them sliding back. Lalemana leapt forward again, barely giving Papitas a chance to steady herself, as her gauntlet runes flashed. The sword bent mid-swing, landing solidly against Papitas’ cheek and sending her skidding back.

Papitas rolled to her feet, rubbing her cheek with a fiery grin. “Now we’re talking! Come on!”

A gust kicked up dust around Lalemana as she lunged again, dust swirling toward Papitas’ eyes. She threw up an arm, blocking the worst of it, only to catch the impact of Lalemana’s sword with her shoulder. The force sent her flying back, crashing into a training dummy.

There was a collective gasp amongst the audience, as Daisy looked at Lalemana proudly, it seems she finally learned what Captain Duffy was after, she thought

“I doubt you’ll be able to, but don’t get up, commoner,” a hint of triumph in her tone, “We’re done.”

Papitas, lying flat on the floor, started to laugh—a low, defiant chuckle that grew into a full-blown cackle. She kicked up and landed in a crouch, her lips curling with satisfaction. “Now that stung a bit.” She rotated her shoulder. “I’m impressed, noble! But you’ll need way more than that to bring down someone from Crimson Magic Clan.” She waved at the shocked Lalemana with a smug gesture. “Come on, we’re not done.”

Without a word, Lalemana charged again, bringing her sword down hard. Papitas sidestepped, and the sword whistled through the air, hitting the dummy instead. She thought to have avoided it, but the sword again moved oddly after Lalemana’s runes glowed, and the sword flew from Lalemana’s hand, the sword propelled by a strong gust of wind, impacting Papitas directly in the center of the chest.

She flew back with a sharp gasp, the air knocked out of her as she crashed into yet another dummy.

Lalemana caught her breath for a while, mana leakage taking a toll on her, “Hit directly below the heart, that should’ve blown the air off her… that’s always the weak point for an Archwizard, completely blocks mana, this is over…” she chuckled, “Easy to hit considering she doesn’t have much there.”

With a loud groan, Papitas got up once again, holding the wooden sword by the blade, “Bitch, that really hurt,” nonetheless a big smile on her face, a small trail of blood dripping from her mouth.

The unarmed Lalemana flinched and staggered back, what the hell!? I’m sure that hit the right spot, it should completely block her mana! How is she still moving?

Papitas held the sword by both ends and easily broke it in half, “Let me get serious too,” she cracked her knuckles with an ominous grin.

Daisy tensed, preparing to intervene as Papitas eyes sparking with dangerous glee. Just as she moved to step forward, a firm hand stopped her.

“It’d be a shame to interrupt this show, wouldn’t it, Daisy?” Mildred's soft voice cut through the tense moment. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, her gaze transfixed on Papitas.

“Miss Harcourt, why are you here!?” Daisy tried to free herself, but Mildred wouldn’t budge.

Mildred smiled. “When I heard there was someone from the Crimson Magic Clan here, I had to come see for myself.” She cocked her head, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes uncharacteristically narrowed at Papitas. “But there’s something… unusual about that girl.”

“I think she may be above the average Archwizard,” Daisy said, “I know they all know hand to hand combat, but she feels closer to a Martial Artist, she’s very strong.”

“Yes, it’s odd,” Mildred, finally let Daisy go, wanting to get a better look at Papitas, “Her mana feels tremendous, but… locked up somehow. Like a geyser that’s never erupted.” Mildred’s smile faded as she watched Papitas take a sudden step forward, raising her fist with newfound intensity.

“Time for some payback!” Papitas shouted, rushing Lalemana in a blur. Her eyes blazed with unfiltered glee.

A shiver ran down Lalemana’s spine as time seemed to slow down, Papitas’ eyes showed true bloodlust. Papitas’ punch cut through the air, barely grazing Lalemana’s cheek as she moved just in time. Her fist hitting one of the dummies directly in the head, sending the head flying with tremendous force as it impacted one of the walls, causing the entire room to shake, the force of the attack sending both Lalemana and Papitas flying as a large dust cloud appeared through the room.

Minister Frost’s eyes practically bulged from their sockets as he took in the scene: the dummy’s head embedded deep in the stone wall, a crater of fractured stone radiating outward from the impact point. “T-those things are made of adamantite. They’re supposed to withstand cannonballs…!”

As the dust settled, Lalemana staggered to her feet, coughing, her gaze fixed on the demolished dummy with a dawning realization. That could’ve been me! That girl nearly punched my head clean off!

Meanwhile, Papitas stood frozen, maintaining an outward air of calm, but her mind raced wildly. Waaaaaaah! I almost punched her head off!

A silence filled the room, tense as a drawn bow.

Mildred, standing calmly in front of Daisy, held the worried knight in place with a firm hand on her shoulder. Her attention was glued to Papitas, an intrigued gleam in her eyes.

Finally, Papitas cleared her throat, dusting off her clothes and trying her best to sound casual. “I, uh… I think we can call it a day here,” she said, eyeing Lalemana. , “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said, you’re strong. No need to hurt yourself more.”

But her attempt at truce fell flat. Lalemana was too busy scanning the room, noting the stares of the royal guards—the same guards who’d watched her every move since she could remember, the people that isolated her. She wouldn’t let some outsider humiliate her in front of them. No matter how rattled she felt, she wasn’t backing down. She clenched her fists, looking straight at Papitas, the tremor in her legs giving away her exhaustion even as she forced herself to stand tall.

Minister Frost stepped forward, nervous but trying to sound authoritative. “Yes, yes, I think it would be best if—”

“Are you satisfied, Lady Dustiness?” Mildred’s voice cut through the room, uncharacteristically loud, turning every head. Papitas shot her a quick look of surprise. “Are you satisfied with this result?”

“Miss Mildred—!” Daisy started, but a raised hand from the archwizard silenced her.

Lalemana’s jaw tightened. “No,” she said firmly, locking eyes with Papitas.

Without missing a beat, Mildred flicked her fingers, and a wooden sword from the rack flew into Lalemana’s hand. The runes on her gauntlet glowed faintly, a small fireball sparking to life at the tip of the sword. Papitas sighed, adopting a fighting stance once more as Lalemana, undeterred, surged forward.

As the fight progressed, nearly everyone in the Royal Residence—guards, maids, even some of the kitchen workers—gathered to witness the spectacle. The once-orderly hallways were deserted as the curious flooded into the training room, their collective cheers and gasps filling the air with tension. They shouted back and forth, egging both girls on.

The floor was cracked, and only a handful of training dummies remained standing; the rest lay scattered across the walls and even ceiling, casualties of the intense brawl.

“This won’t go for much longer, look at the foreigner,” a royal guard said to a colleague, pointing at Papitas with the little wiggle room in the crowded space, “Her arms have gone limp from all the bruises, and I don’t think she can’t open her right eye.”

“The MVP may not be hurt, but she’s exhausted,” another one pointed at Lalemana, “Look at her, she’s drenched in sweat, is very pale, and has trouble breathing.”

A faint glow emanated from Lalemana’s gauntlet as her wooden sword crackled with an aura of electricity, smoke curling from the blade. She was at her limit, but she steadied herself, preparing for one final strike.

In a flash, Lalemana leapt forward, bringing the sword down hard. Papitas caught it with both hands, and a bright light exploded on impact. Papitas gritted her teeth, her palms burning, but she held on.

“RAAAAAAAAH!” Papitas roared, pulling the sword—and Lalemana—down with her, slamming her shoulder into Lalemana’s chest with bone-jarring force. Lalemana couldn’t even cry out; the impact drove the air from her lungs, sending her hurtling backward. She crashed into a training dummy, which splintered beneath her, before she slumped to the ground, unmoving.

“Milady!” Daisy broke free from Mildred’s grip, rushing to Lalemana’s side.

A collective awe shook the room as Papitas remained standing.

Minister Frost’s voice broke the tension, tentative and awestruck. “What… what a display. Well then, it’s clear that we have a winner, and it’s Miss Pa—”

Before he could finish, Papitas swayed, then dropped backward with a heavy thud, unconscious, her sparring gloves charred and ruined, burns marking her hands.

Mildred drifted forward, kneeling beside her, gently brushing the bruised girl’s cheek with a fond smile. This girl is no ordinary Archwizard all right, she chuckled slightly, as the crowd of guards began shouting.

“It’s a tie, isn’t it?” one guard shouted.

“No way! The foreigner only landed one attack; Lady Dustiness wins on points!” another argued.

“Look at the damage! This is no points match—no one won that fight!” a third guard laughed, shaking his head.

“Would anyone please call a couple of priests,” Mildred’s gentle yet commanding voice brought the room back under control, “We have two rather battered young ladies here in need of care.”

Part 4

“Ugh…” Papitas groaned as her eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar ceiling, her head pounding. She instinctively reached out to feel the soft sheets around her before wincing at the sharp, burning pain in her hands.

“Please don’t move, miss!” a concerned voice called out.

She blinked groggily and sat up despite the protest, her gaze landing on a small gathering of people at the foot of the bed: a flustered maid, a nervous scholar, a woman floating eerily, and someone who looked like a priestess in full attire.

“Lie back down,” the priestess said gently, moving closer. “Your burns haven’t fully healed. Let my magic finish its work.”

“I’m fine. Really,” Papitas grumbled, rubbing her temples. Her hands stung even more when she tried to move them. “What happened, I won right?”

The floating woman let out a soft chuckle. “Calling it a tie seems more accurate. Still, it was quite the spectacle, Miss Papitas.”

Papitas squinted at her, the splitting headache making it hard to focus. “Who… wait… what the hell am I wearing?!” She suddenly yanked the sheets up to her chin, realizing the nightgown she had on was far too revealing for comfort.

“Your clothes were a mess after the fight,” the maid said matter-of-factly, raising her hand as though in apology. “I had to… thoroughly clean your battered body, so they needed to come off!”

“You did not need to do that,” the scholar interjected sharply.

“Nonsense,” the maid replied with a serene smile, though her gaze remained fixed on Papitas. “I was ordered to look after Miss Papitas’ every need. In fact, I’ve failed her by not warming her beautiful body myself—”

“Moving on!” the priestess interrupted loudly, her tone strained as everyone else in the room made a concerted effort to ignore the maid, “Miss, please try not to overexert yourself. You’re healing faster than expected, but you still need to rest.” She leaned in and gently checked Papitas’ hands, “I’ll return shortly to finish the healing process.”

With a polite bow, the priestess exited the room, leaving Papitas to stretch her aching limbs. “Ugh, I feel like I got run over. Are we eating soon? I’m starving after that fight.” She paused, rubbing her stomach. “Wait—what about the noble? How’s she doing?”

“She’s likely better off than you,” the floating woman said with a teasing smile, twirling a lock of her hair. “You only landed one solid hit, after all. Lady Dustiness is tougher than she looks. But don’t worry—you’ll get to see her soon. You’ve been invited to dinner with her family.”

“What?!” Papitas sat bolt upright, her headache forgotten for a moment. “Like hell I’m eating with her! I don’t want to see her for another second!”

“But the prophecy!” the scholar exclaimed, clutching her notebook as if it were sacred scripture. “You two are destined to lead a party to defeat the Demon Queen! You must become friends!”

“Hmph!” Papitas puffed out her chest and looked away, crossing her arms. “I only agreed to be in a party with her, not to be her friend. If she becomes a pain, I’ll just kick her out!” Papitas then went for a change of clothes, “I’ll just go out and eat, where’s the nearest adventurer’s guild, or some good restaurant? I finally have money for a decent meal too…”

The floating woman let out another chuckle, this time more amused. “Too late. I’ve already accepted the invitation on your behalf. Consider this a golden opportunity to build bridges, as Miss Angels suggested.”

“What!? Wait, who are you? Don’t’ ignore the question!” Papitas exclaimed.

“Oh, how rude of me.” The floating woman hovered closer; her tone laced with playful mockery. “I’m Mildred Harcourt, Archwizard and head of the Royal Magic Research Institute.”

Papitas froze as Mildred leaned in, cupping her cheeks with a mischievous grin. Their eyes locked, and Papitas immediately recognized the look—the piercing, knowing glare that practically screamed: I know what you are, so play along.

“As a fellow Archwizard,” Mildred said softly, her grip firm as Papitas tried to turn away, “We should have plenty to discuss, how about you tell me about life on the Crimson Magic Islands? I’m most curious about your upbringing.”

“Uh…” Papitas broke into a sweat, her mind racing.

“Me too!” the scholar, suddenly popped into view, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Please, Miss Papitas! I’d love to hear all about your homeland before you join Lady Dustiness!”

“Yes, Miss Papitas,” Mildred said with finality, her smirk deepening. “Let’s talk.”

***

“Mom! What is this!? Why’d you invite that uneducated commoner!?” Lalemana demanded of her mother, a few bruises on her face.

“Milady, you haven’t fully healed! Please lie down and rest!” Daisy pleaded, trying to calm her.

“That girl is simply a tool to get me out of this city! I don’t need to, or want to, have the displeasure of seeing her more than absolutely necessary! Mom, are you even listening to me!? Mom! Moooom! Ack!” Lalemana yelped as her mother thwacked her on the head.

“Why do you have to be such a pain, Lulú!?” Lady Marcella barked, whacking her daughter after every word for emphasis. “A member of the Crimson Magic Clan finally shows up to fulfill the prophecy, you’re finally able to leave this city to meet the spirit, and what do you do? Pick a fight the moment you meet her!” Whack. Whack. “Are you the daughter of a noble family or some brawler off the streets!? Because I don’t remember raising such an idiot daughter!”

Lalemana curled up into a ball, hands shielding her head as tears welled up in her eyes. “Waaaaaah! Stop it, Mom, that huuuurts!”

“Ma’am, please stop!” Daisy protested, throwing herself between them. “You’re hurting her more than she was hurt in the fight!”

Lady Marcella let out an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms. “We’re having a wonderful dinner with your new party member as a farewell before you leave tomorrow, and that’s final!” She turned her heel, ready to leave, “Now go get ready. I’ll summon, uh, Miss… Potato Chips or whatever her name is shortly.”

“It’s Miss Papitas,” Daisy corrected hesitantly, glancing at Lalemana, who was mumbling incoherently while limping away.

“Mom—!” Lalemana turned back to argue but froze at her mother’s steely glare, retreating without another word.

A while later.

A pouting Lalemana sat at the grand dining table in the Dustiness wing, her hair impeccably styled, a lit cigarette in her mouth. Daisy stood behind her, subtly watching her fidget with a scowl that deepened with every passing minute. The aromas of fine cuisine filled the air, mixing with tobacco, the only thing stopping Lalemana from storming off in protest.

Meanwhile, at the wing’s entrance, Lady Marcella paced, flanked by a line of maids. She paused at the sound of a knock and rushed to open the door, her face lighting up as she greeted the guests.

“Ah, Miss Harcourt! It’s been far too long!” Lady Marcella exclaimed, pulling Mildred into a warm hug. “You look as ethereal as ever. Won’t you stay for dinner?”

Mildred smiled faintly. “I’d love to, but alas, I’ve got pressing matters. I just came to deliver your… esteemed guest.” She gestured to Papitas, who stood awkwardly behind her, pouting and avoiding eye contact.

“My name’s Papitas,” the girl muttered after a nudge from Mildred. “Uh… sorry for beating your daughter, I guess.” She gave an awkward bow, her sunglasses slipping down her nose slightly.

“She’s spirited, but a good girl,” Mildred said with a chuckle. “I think the two will… sort themselves out. Eventually.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lady Marcella said, her gaze sharp as ever as she gestured Papitas inside. “I hope you’re hungry, dear. Dinner’s just about ready.”

Papitas hesitated, sniffing the air as the aroma hit her. Her stomach growled audibly, her attempt to conceal her hunger was utterly unconvincing.

Lady Marcella smiled knowingly. “Let’s not keep you waiting, then.”

Papitas shuffled into the dining hall, freezing the moment her eyes locked with Lalemana’s. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Lalemana glared daggers at Papitas, who returned her icy stare with her own brand of quiet defiance. Daisy, sensing a storm brewing, instinctively placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Now, now,” Lady Marcella interjected, clapping her hands lightly as she placed a reassuring hand on Papitas’ shoulder and cast a pointed glance at Lalemana. “We’re going to have a civilized dinner.”

With a snap of her fingers, a procession of maids entered, each bearing trays laden with steaming dishes. Papitas’ glare evaporated, her focus shifting to the food as her mouth watered.

As the food was set down, Papitas immediately dug in, shoveling bites into her mouth with reckless abandon.

“So rude,” Lalemana hissed, arms crossed. “Couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to be served.”

“She’s hungry, Lulú,” Lady Marcella said, cutting her food gracefully. “I seem to recall you being just like that after training sessions.”

Lalemana blushed furiously. “That’s completely different!”

“You have sauce on your chin, dear.”

“Wha—!?” Lalemana swiped at her chin, realizing too late she’d been tricked. Daisy barely stifled a laugh.

Papitas paused, mid-bite. “Thank you for this food! It’s really good! Like, really REALLY good!” she mumbled through a full mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I thought I’d never eat this well again!”

Quietly eating, Daisy noticed a mischievous glint in Lady Marcella’s eyes, something that deeply concerned her given the few times she’d seen that similar look.

Lady Marcella smiled smugly. “Good, then this dinner’s off to a fine start. Now, let’s all chat and get to know each other.”

Lalemana groaned and sank into her chair. “Mom, please, not that.”

Papitas awkwardly cleared her throat and half-stood. “Uh, thank you for the meal, ma’am, but I think I’ll just—”

“Miss Papitas.” Lady Marcella’s voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. “Since I’m not your mother, I can’t order you like I do with Lulú.” Papitas began to relax, only for Lady Marcella to add, “But because your mother isn’t here, I’ll take that responsibility. Now sit down!

“You two are not leaving this table until you’re on speaking terms,” Lady Marcella declared. She snapped her fingers, and a maid entered, carrying an oversized dice. Its faces gleamed, each engraved with a conversational topic, “This is the Magic Dice of Harmony. It decides topics of conversation. You roll, share something relevant, and—voilà!—friendship blossoms,” she said with flair.

Both girls groaned. Papitas rested her chin in her hand, while Lalemana covered her face with both hands. Clearly, Lady Marcella’s strategy was already working—if only to unite them in mutual misery.

The maid rolled the dice. The glowing face read: Why did you pick your class?

“Great question!” Lady Marcella said brightly.

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Lalemana said looking away, annoyed.

“…That’s a personal matter, I won’t say more than that,” said Papitas, tightly clenching her jaws.

Lady Marcella sighed, clearly disappointed in the weak start. “Alright, moving on.” She rolled the dice again. The face lit up: Describe your most embarrassing moment.

Lalemana visibly froze, her cheeks reddening. “Mom, no. Pick another topic.”

Lady Marcella smirked. “Come now, Lulú, this is a classic. Everyone goes through embarrassing moments—it’s character-building!”

Papitas leaned back, grinning. “Oh, this I have to hear.”

“Fine!” Lalemana snapped, glaring at both her mother and Papitas. “I tripped at a ball once, okay? The floor was slippery, and I lost my balance. End of story.”

“...And?” Lady Marcella prompted, her expression delightfully innocent.

“And I fell into the punch bowl,” Lalemana muttered, barely audible.

The room went silent for a moment before Papitas burst out laughing. “You fell into the punch? Oh man, that’s too good. Please tell me you splashed everyone!”

“I was ten years old!” Lalemana shouted, slamming her fists on the table, “And people still remind me of it every time I’m forced to go to one of those stupid events!”

Papitas was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “I can’t believe you just admitted that. That’s amazing.”

“Let’s just move on,” Lalemana growled, arms crossed, as Daisy stifled her giggles behind a napkin.

Throwing the dice again, it said: What’s your favorite reading material?

“That’s an interesting topic,” Lady Marcella said, leaning forward with a glint of curiosity. “Tell me, Miss Papitas, does Wata still write?”

“Huh?” Papitas was caught off guard, “Wata? You’ve heard of him? His books are popular here?”

“They aren’t,” Lady Marcella replied, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “My father was a merchant who traded with the Crimson Magic Islands. He took me along on a few trips to a big city called Fanesuka, I believe. I picked up a few of Wata’s books there as a little girl. You’re not the first Crimson Magic Clanswoman I’ve met either. Honestly, seeing you got me nostalgic. You look a lot like my childhood friend from those days.”

“What?!” Lalemana interjected, equally caught off guard. “Mom, why have you never mentioned this before?”

Lady Marcella waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it was a long time ago, Lulú. I must’ve been ten the last time I visited. I don’t even remember my friend’s name.” Her tone turned wistful for a moment before she clapped her hands lightly. “Anyway, let’s not lose focus. Miss Papitas, as an Archwizard, I imagine you read extensively.”

Papitas flinched slightly, something that didn’t went by unnoticed by Lalemana, “Oh! …well, I haven’t read much since I came here, but I don’t think books are all that different. I guess I like history and fantasy books.”

Lalemana snorted. “Fantasy? How fitting. Only children read those.”

Papitas shot her a glare. “Oh yeah? And what do you read, Miss I’m-So-Mature?”

“Books on strategy and combat,” Lalemana said with a smug smirk, puffing out her chest. “I train too much to waste time on silly stories.”

Lady Marcella and Daisy exchanged knowing looks at Lalemana failing to mention her huge collection of sci-fi books, but noticing this was another bust, Lady Marcella picked the dice again, continuing the game, this time: Share your greatest fear, appeared.

Papitas immediately stiffened. “The Crimson Magic Clan isn’t afraid of anything.”

Lalemana snorted. “Oh please. Everyone’s afraid of something.”

Papitas glared at her. “Not me. I—” Her voice faltered under Lady Marcella’s calm but knowing gaze. “...tomatoes,” she mumbled.

“What was that?” Lalemana asked, leaning closer with mock curiosity. “Did you say tomatoes?”

“Yes, okay?! Tomatoes freak me out!” Papitas admitted, throwing up her hands. “It’s part of my tragic back story! When I was little, I unknowingly wandered into a tomato field, and well you know how those things use acid to defend themselves…”

Lalemana smirked. “Hold on then, do you have like scars or something?”

“No, thankfully they were small tomatoes” Papitas averted her gaze, her cheeks burning. “They only melted my clothes …I had to walk back home naked.”

After a big pause, giving Lalemana time to rest after nearly laughing herself unconscious, Lady Marcella tossed the dice yet again, this time landing on: Who do you idolize?

“This one sounds intriguing,” Lady Marcella remarked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “I’ve never heard much about the heroes of the Crimson Magic Clan. Surely there must be many legendary Archwizards, right?”

Papitas perked up slightly, puffing out her chest. “Oh, plenty!” She began counting on her fingers as she recited, her tone brimming with pride. “There’s Piyoko, who led the clan to settle by an active volcano—no better spot to train in fire magic! Then Wanabana, who was the clan chief during the war with the Suzuki Empire. Oh, and…”

Lalemana, struggling to contain herself, stifled a laugh after every name.

“What?” Papitas snapped, her face turning as red as her eyes.

“Nothing, nothing!” Lalemana said, waving her hand dismissively, though her smirk said otherwise.

Papitas huffed and continued, “Many girls in my class really admired a woman simply known as The Loner. She was chief during some big events. Teenagers think she’s super cool because of the whole ‘mysterious, nobody-knows-anything-about-her’ angle. Supposedly, she didn’t have any friends or talked to anyone—total enigma.”

“Fascinating,” Lady Marcella mused. “And who’s your personal favorite, Miss Papitas?”

Papitas grinned, her pride returning. “Oh, that’s easy. My idol is Blue Three!”

“Blue Three?” Lalemana repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of name is that? Sounds like a bad code name.”

“It is a code name!” Papitas snapped back, undeterred. “He’s a famous martial artist. He’s strong, fast, and always one step ahead of the bad guys. The coolest part? His name implies there’s a Blue One and Blue Two out there somewhere—but they’ve never been found. Total mystery! Isn’t that awesome?”

The evening slip by unnoticed. The dice rolled again, glowing faintly before landing on: What’s your favorite type of weather?

Papitas jumped to her feet, striking a dramatic pose as if she were announcing an epic battle. “Thunderstorms! They’re the perfect backdrop for an epic battle! The rumble of the thunder, the crack of lightning—it's like the world itself is cheering you on!”

Lalemana raised a hand, unimpressed. “It’s just wet and inconvenient.”

“You have no imagination,” Papitas declared, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Thunderstorms are art! They’re nature’s way of hyping you up!”

And rolled again, eventually landing on: What do you look for in a significant other?

An awkward silence filled the room.

Papitas glanced away, rubbing the back of her neck. “Uhh… pass?”

Lalemana looked equally uncomfortable, pretending to be very interested in the pattern of her chair’s upholstery. “No comment.”

Topic after topic failed miserably. Lady Marcella stifled a yawn as exhaustion crept up on her. The girls sat with their arms crossed, refusing to even look at each other. It was as if fate itself had decided they were destined to clash forever.

With a resigned wave, Lady Marcella signaled the maid again. The glowing dice tumbled onto the final, untouched face: What’s your favorite food?

“Alright, last chance,” she said, yawning mid-sentence. “Please, for my sanity, find something in common. Miss Papitas, tell me, how’s the food in the Crimson Magic Islands?”

Papitas perked up. “Oh, it’s pretty different from here. From where I’m from there’s lots of seafood—fish, shrimp, crab, you name it.” Her expression darkened slightly. “Lately, though, I’ve mostly been eating fried giant frog. Good protein, but the novelty wears off after, oh, eating it for fifty days straight.”

Lalemana paled. “Seafood? Absolutely not! Just the smell of fish makes me sick.”

Papitas raised an eyebrow. “What? That’s ridiculous. How do you survive without seafood?”

“As if, I survive perfectly fine on actual food,” Lalemana snapped, her tone dripping with disdain. “This conversation is over. See, Mom? I told you this was a waste of time. This commoner and I have nothing in common!”

Lady Marcella pinched the bridge of her nose. “At least try, Lulú.”

“Hmph!” Lalemana crossed her arms. “Fine! If you must know, my favorite food is... ramen!”

She barked the word like a challenge, as though daring anyone to make fun of her choice.

The room froze for a second before Papitas suddenly leaped to her feet, her eyes wide as saucers. “Ramen? Did you just say ramen?!”

Her outburst startled everyone, even Lady Marcella.

“There’s ramen here?!” Papitas exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “I looked everywhere in Axel for a ramen restaurant, but nobody in the entire city even knew what it was!”

“You like ramen, Miss Papitas?” Lady Marcella asked, a flicker of hope returning to her weary expression.

“Like it? It’s my favorite food!” Papitas declared, practically glowing. “I used to eat it every single day back home! I almost gave up on finding any, figured this country didn’t have it! But now...” She turned to Lalemana, grabbing her hands with a fervor that made the latter recoil. “You know where it is, right? Right?! Where’s the ramen? I need it. Right now!”

Lalemana froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of Papitas’ enthusiasm. “Uh, well, there’s this place in the city...”

“Yes!” Papitas shouted, raising her fists in triumph. “Finally, my beloved ramen is within reach!”

“Well, well!” Lady Marcella said with a triumphant clap. “It seems we’ve found common ground at last! It’s a shame it’s so late,” she added, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Lulú, take Miss Papitas to that restaurant tomorrow morning. You’ll have time before the pilgrimage leaves, and it’ll be a good opportunity to... bond.”

“What?! But, Mom—!” Lalemana tried to protest, her voice rising in panic.

“No buts,” Lady Marcella cut her off, her exhaustion beginning to show in her curt tone. “Miss Papitas, you’ll finally get your ramen. Now off to bed—you all got a big day tomorrow. Daisy, take Miss Papitas to her bedroom, I’ll stay with Lulú, we have to deal with her… sleeping arrangements.”

Papitas bowed dramatically. “Lady Marcella, you are a saint among saints! A hero! You’ve saved a poor, ramen-less soul and given her a reason to live!” She straightened up, then added with a cheeky grin, “Seriously, though, I owe you one. You’re the best!”

“I know, dear, I know” Lady Marcella said with a slight sigh.

Lalemana groaned as Papitas skipped away, chanting, “Ramen, ramen, la-la-la!” Daisy trailed behind her.

Daisy and Papitas strolled through the quiet halls of the Royal Residence, their footsteps echoing faintly in the stillness. Most of the staff had retired for the evening, leaving an almost eerie calm.

“So, uh, are you like her cousin or what?” Papitas blurted out suddenly, breaking the silence.

Daisy blinked, startled by the abrupt question. “No, no, Lady Lalemana and I aren’t related,” she replied, her tone crisp and professional despite the exhaustion etched on her face. “I’m her escort. My duty is to watch over her at all times.”

Papitas squinted, as if trying to read Daisy’s soul. “Hmm?” She stopped walking, crossing her arms. “So, you’re a real knight, then? Like, actually strong?”

Daisy hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Well, I suppose—”

Before she could finish, Papitas’ fist shot out toward her face.

Daisy yelped and jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow.

Papitas grinned, her enthusiasm boundless. “Just checking! Nice reflexes. So, you’ll be coming along with us, huh?” She gave Daisy an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Good to know someone capable is tagging along. I’ll be counting on you!”

She spun on her heel and continued down the hall, leaving Daisy rooted in place, clutching her chest as she tried to steady her breathing, trailing after Papitas, who had already reached the door to her guest room.

An armored knight stood silently at attention outside. Papitas gave the knight a cheerful wave before disappearing inside, the door closing behind her.

Daisy lingered in front of the door, staring at it as muffled voices carried through the wood.

“Miss Papitas, it’s so late! You must rest that beautiful body of yours. Allow me to assist you in undressing and slipping into a nightgown!”

“Huh? No, no, Erika, I can handle it myself—wait, what are you doing? Don’t touch me there!”

Daisy’s eyes widened as the sounds of a mild scuffle grew louder. She took a deliberate step back.

“Sometimes I think I don’t get paid enough for this,” she muttered, turning on her heel and walking away before things escalated further.

Later that night.

Papitas laid on her comfy bed, unable to sleep. After sending Erika away with a half-hearted goodnight, she feigned sleep just to be left alone. Too much happened. Just yesterday, she was a failed adventurer curled up in the stables after eating a vegetable soup without any vegetables. And now? She was a “chosen one,” destined to save the world and sleeping in a bed that probably cost more than all the rewards she’d gained in the past month.

Papitas groaned, rolling out of bed. She wandered to one of the massive windows that stretched from the floor to the towering ceiling. Cracking it open, she slipped through and leaped up to the roof with ease.

Sitting cross on the cool tiles, she gazed at the sprawling city. Most homes were dark, their occupants fast asleep, but the streetlights stretched endlessly, creating rivers of golden light that disappeared into the horizon. Papitas squinted toward what she assumed was east. “Two months since I left…” she murmured, her fingers absentmindedly tracing constellations in the sky. “I hope Furita and the others are doing okay.”

Lying back, she held her hand up, framing the moon between her fingers like a coin. The moment of peace was short-lived, though. The sound of a door closing snapped her attention to the right.

Curious, Papitas sat up and peered toward the source. From her vantage point, she spotted a walled garden taking up a large portion of the second floor. In its center, under a small rain-shielding pavilion, stood a table with a tea set and an open book. Before she could make sense of the scene, the door to the garden burst open with a loud bang.

A blonde-haired woman stormed out, sword in hand, her voice cutting through the still night. “Who’s out there? This area is strictly off-limits!”

Papitas barely managed to duck, pressing herself flat against the roof. Her eyes flicked to the glowing sword in the woman’s grip. Its radiant blade illuminated her features just enough for Papitas to catch streams of blue in her hair.

“Show yourself!” the woman barked.

Papitas scrambled toward the roof’s edge, her still-healing hands stinging with every movement. As the woman’s footsteps grew louder, Papitas made a split-second decision. With no better options, she let go and dropped two floors below.

She landed on a slanted roof above a back entryway, wincing as her feet hit the tiles. Down below, royal staff were bustling about, restocking the residence with crates of food and other supplies. Peering over the edge, Papitas frowned. Great. Now what?

The woman’s voice above got closer. Papitas needed to act fast. Spotting a balcony above, she leaped again, barely landing with a muffled thud. From there, she slipped through a slightly ajar door, finding herself on the dark and quiet second floor of the Royal Residence.

She caught her breath, leaning against the wall. “Okay,” she whispered to herself, “now how do I get back to my room without getting caught?”

She wandered through the winding hallways, her memory hazy about which turns she had taken earlier. Eventually, she found herself back in the familiar Dustiness wing.

“I came from here, but where—?” she muttered, only to freeze when the sound of a door creaking open reached her ears.

Quickly ducking behind a pillar, Papitas watched as Lalemana, clad in a flowing nightgown and carrying a flickering candle, stepped into the hall. Her movements were deliberate, her expression serious. Intrigued—and hoping Lalemana might unknowingly lead her back to her room—Papitas tailed her.

Lalemana walked with purpose through the second floor, eventually stopping before a grand set of double doors adorned with a crest. She stood still for a moment, staring at the doors before sinking to the floor.

From her hiding spot, Papitas could hear her voice, low and trembling.

“I’m finally leaving tomorrow,” Lalemana said, her words wavering between laughter and tears. “Can you believe it? A completely uneducated commoner from the Crimson Magic Clan appeared… but she’ll have to do.”

Papitas bristled, ready to storm out and give her a piece of her mind. But before she could, Lalemana’s voice cracked.

“I’ll leave with her and get the spirit,” she continued, her tone softening as she buried her face in her hands. “The spirit will heal you, and everything will go back to normal… we’ll go back to normal…”

Papitas hesitated. Her initial anger ebbed as she watched Lalemana crumble into quiet sobs. Without a word, she turned and walked away.

She didn’t know how, but she eventually found her way back to her room. Crawling into bed, she stared at the ceiling again.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be another long day,” she muttered.

Part 5

“Come on, hurry!” Papitas tugged at Lalemana’s hand like an overeager child dragging their parent. The three of them—Papitas, Lalemana, and a perpetually exasperated Daisy—navigated one of Arcanletia’s bustling avenues, their destination set on a small ramen restaurant. Papitas had banged on the door of the Dustiness wing early in the morning, eager to eat her beloved food.

“Why did you make me wait so long anyway?” Papitas huffed, noticing Lalemana deliberately lagging behind.

Lalemana sighed dramatically, flipping open a hand mirror to check her hair, “I had to get ready. Look,” She displayed her freshly painted nails like a prized trophy.

“Ugh,” Papitas groaned, “Why’d you waste time making yourself up? We’re going adventuring; won’t it take a week to get to the spirit, what’s the point?”

“Looking good is never a waste,” Lalemana closed the hand mirror, signaling to her right, “That way, we’re almost there. Though I doubt it’ll be open, that guy never opens so early.”

“I’m sure it will, milady,” Daisy interjected, “Your mother sent to notify the owner.”

Arriving at a dead-end street, Papitas’ eyes lit up as she read the sign. “It’s real! The restaurant is reaaaaaaaaaaaal!” She bolted ahead, nearly tripping on the step as she burst through the door.

“Hiya, Miss Dustiness, this another friend of yours?” the restaurant owner greeted the more collected Lalemana and Daisy.

“No,” replied Lalemana coolly, “But, sadly, she is with me, hit us up with a couple of bowls,” she sat down as Papitas did the same next to her. Daisy would be skipping the ramen this time, having had a proper breakfast.

“Aww, you don’t have anything with duxion!” Papitas said after eyeing the menu, “Mmh, this one looks good, extra spicy—”

Lalemana smirked, settling into her seat. “Extra spicy? Bold words for someone who looks like they’ve never handled real spice.”

“Excuse me?” replied an incredulous Papitas, “I won’t take that from some foreigner, I’ve eaten spicy food since I was little, this is nothing for me. I just picked it because I liked he ingredients.”

“You’re still little, and for the last time, you’re the foreigner here, commoner. Regardless, I’ll teach you the proper way to eat ramen,” Lalemana signaled to the restaurant owner, “Give me this one,” she pointed at one of the spiciest dishes on the menu.

“Oh, you’re on!” Papitas said, “Give me one of those too!”

“Please don’t overdo it,” Daisy felt her brow, “Remember, we’ve got less than two hours before we leave.”

The owner returned, balancing two steaming bowls of ramen. He placed two particularly vibrant red bowls in front of the girls. “Here ya go, the hottest we’ve got. Don’t blame me if your mouths never work right again.”

“This is nothing, barely any kick,” Papitas said after slurping up a mouthful of noodles, tears immediately pooling in her eyes.

“Might as well be warm water,” Lalemana added, though her trembling hand betrayed her words.

The competition escalated. Papitas reached for a bottle of hot sauce, shaking it over her bowl, only for the lid to pop off and dump half the bottle into her ramen. She froze as Lalemana burst out laughing.

“You’re going to eat that, right?” Lalemana teased. “No way a Crimson Magic clanswoman would back down.”

“O-of course not!” Papitas declared, mixing the sauce with a flourish before stuffing a bite into her mouth. Her face went beet red as she fought the urge to cry. “T-tastes great!”

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Lalemana said, taking the remaining hot sauce and pouring it l over her bowl. “Weaklings couldn’t handle this.” But her smug confidence faltered as Papitas dumped the entire bottle’s contents into her bowl.

“Go ahead, you’re not scared, right?” Papitas now teased her.

“Milady, I don’t think—,” Daisy tried to intervene.

“Don’t,” Lalemana stopped Daisy, as she and Papitas glared at each other like duelists in a standoff, slurping down mouthfuls of the impossibly spicy food. Sweat poured down their faces, their lips burning as if they’d kissed a volcano.

Papitas leaned forward with an annoyed expression. “Hey, boss! Another one over here! Double the… uh, that spicy stuff!” she called out, snapping her fingers. “You know, the one that makes your nose burn.”

The restaurant owner looked visibly worried, wiping his hands on his apron. “Miss, I think you two’ve had plenty. I mean, look at ya—sweatin’ like ya ran a marathon! Maybe some water instead, eh?”

“Triple it on mine,” Lalemana chimed in coolly, adjusting her posture as though she weren’t just as red-faced and teary-eyed. “We’ll see who’s really sweating, shall we?”

Daisy sighed from the corner. “This will end poorly…”

The next round arrived. The bowls practically glowed with an ominous red hue, the steam alone making the air around them thick and hard to breathe.

Papitas sniffed dramatically, her eyes watering from the sheer scent of the food. “Pfft, smells like home,” she said, though her voice cracked halfway through. “Watch closely, noble, you might learn a thing or two.” She leaned in, taking an enormous mouthful.

Lalemana smirked—though her lips trembled slightly. “Child’s play. You think this is spicy? For me, this is breakfast.” Her words were accompanied by a delicate dab at her face with a napkin, though it did little to hide the beads of sweat forming on her brow.

Papitas chewed furiously, her face flushing a vivid crimson. “Haaa… ha! See? Easy. Barely… barely even felt it,” she gasped, her words stumbling as her mouth betrayed her.

“Oh? Then you won’t mind a little twist,” Lalemana said with a sharp smile. She reached into the back of the shop and retrieved a vial of bright orange liquid. “Red neroid extract. Was used to torture prisoners long ago.”

The restaurant owner froze. “Now, hold on—no one in their right mind uses that stuff. One drop’s enough to knock out a grown man!”

“Perfect,” Papitas declared, snatching the bottle and pouring a generous amount into both bowls. She stirred them in with dramatic flair, the broth sizzling ominously.

“Milady…” Daisy began, looking alarmed.

With synchronized determination, the two dug into their molten red bowls. The moment the noodles hit their tongues; both froze. Their eyes widened. Sweat poured down their faces like rivers. Papitas twitched slightly, her chopsticks trembling in her grip. Lalemana’s fingers clenched so hard on her spoon that it bent.

As the competition continued, the restaurant owner retreated behind the counter for his own safety. Daisy sat in the corner, quietly praying to keep them both alive.

The two girls locked eyes, bowls raised like duelists about to clash swords. Both shoved noodles into their mouths simultaneously, refusing to be the first to back down. The air was filled with muffled groans and exaggerated chewing noises as they battled to swallow the hellish concoction.

Papitas, face swollen and eyes bulging, gestured wildly with her hands, attempting to signal a truce. Lalemana, her tongue hanging out comically, mimed wiping sweat from her brow, but her hand missed and smacked herself in the face instead.

Daisy finally stepped in. “Milady, we’re out of time,” she said firmly, standing between the two combatants.

“Mmmm mmmph mmmaaahhh,” Lalemana mumbled, her mouth too full to form words.

“If we’re late, you won’t be able to say your goodbyes,” Daisy added. “And your mother will be furious.”

“You’re right,” she said after forcefully swallowing what remained of her hellish ramen, “I’ll just take a quick stop in the bathroom.”

Not to be outdone, Papitas also shoved the remaining food into her mouth and dashed toward the bathroom. “I call dibs!” she shouted through muffled speech, nearly tripping over her own feet as Lalemana fought to get there first.

By the time they returned to the Royal Residence, their stomachs were swollen, their faces pale, and their tongues numb. Neither said a word. Daisy, however, looked oddly serene.

The garden of the Royal Residence buzzed with activity. Workers darted around, loading supplies into a heavily armored carriage as Lady Marcella oversaw the entire operation personally.

By the time Lalemana, Daisy, and Papitas returned, Lady Marcella was already glancing at her ornate wristwatch. “Just in time, Lulú,” she called out, her tone brisk but not without warmth. “A moment longer, and there’d have been punishment. Don’t think I wouldn’t,” she pointed toward the residence. “Yours and Daisy’s gear is being loaded onto the carriage. Go inside, put on your armor, and make it quick. You’ll have just enough time for a goodbye before the king arrives.”

Lalemana nodded, before wordlessly going inside, Lady Marcella stopping Daisy as she was about to follow, “Hold on, Daisy,” she said, “I need a word with you.”

In her room, Lalemana adjusted the straps of her gauntlets. The familiar weight of her armor settled over her shoulders, grounding her as she reached for her sword. She took a moment to scan the room. Or at least what was left of it.

This could be the last time I see this place, she thought, her gaze lingering on the cracked mirror above the wrecked hairdresser.

Her eyes landed on a stray tube of lipstick, half-buried in the wreckage. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. With a faint smirk, she uncapped it and scrawled a quick message on the wall next to the door.

Satisfied, she capped the lipstick, turned off the light, and shut the door.

Her footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway as she approached the familiar door, one she hadn’t visited during daylight in a long time. The sight of it stopped her in her tracks. She stared at the handle, her hand hovering uncertainly.

She clenched her fist, jaw tightening as emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Slowly, she placed her hand on the door.

“I-I…” The words caught in her throat, trembling with the weight of everything she wanted to say. “I’m leaving… finally leaving. I’ll get the spirit, and…”

Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip, fighting back the tears welling in her eyes. Clenching her fist, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath before punching the door. “Nina! Wait for me!” she shouted, her voice strong and resolute. “I’ll bring the spirit for you! I’ll save you!” she yelled strongly enough to make sure anybody on the other side would hear.

The hallway fell silent, her words hanging in the air. She waited, straining to hear even the faintest response. None came.

“…Wait for me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible now.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, but just as she turned to leave, something caught her eye—a small piece of paper sliding out from under the door. She froze, staring at it in disbelief.

Lowering herself to pick it up, she unfolded the note with shaking hands. The writing was messy, almost childlike, but unmistakably heartfelt.

[Good luck, Lulú]

Lalemana smiled, folding the piece of paper and putting it close to her heart, walking away.

Lady Marcella led Daisy to a secluded corner of the garden, glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were alone. Her usual composed demeanor had cracks in it.

“What’s the matter, ma’am?” Daisy asked gently. She’d never seen her so nervous

For a moment, Marcella stood with her back to Daisy, gripping her arms together tightly. “Did you know…” Her voice was softer than usual, wavering slightly. “Did you know that Lulú and I have never been apart for more than a day? Not 24 hours since the day she was born.”

“Ma’am…” Daisy stepped forward; her tone filled with concern. The scene was painfully familiar. Her own mother had been just like this when she first left home.

Lady Marcella inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. “I knew this day would come eventually. We were even planning for it yesterday morning, for Eris’ sake. But…” Her voice faltered. “It’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I-I’m her mother. What if something happens to her, Daisy? What if—”

“Milady,” Daisy interrupted gently, resting her hands on Lady Marcella’s shoulders. Her voice was steady, but her grip was firm. “You don’t need to worry. I promise you, I will make sure no harm comes to her. I’ll fight to the very end to protect her. You have my word.”

Marcella turned slowly, her piercing eyes glistening faintly. “Thank you, Daisy. Truly.” She exhaled, letting the tension in her shoulders relax just a bit. “I suppose I needed to hear that.”

Daisy gave her a reassuring nod, Lady Marcella turned her, catching glimpse of Lalemana entering the garden, “Come on, now.”

“What are we waiting foooooooooooooor?” Papitas yelled from her perch on the carriage’s edge, swinging her legs impatiently.

Lady Marcella appeared, brushing away an errant tear as though it were an unruly hair strand. “The king will be arriving shortly. He wanted to see you off personally.”

Papitas groaned, slumping theatrically. “Oh great. A royal sendoff. Just what I always wanted.”

As if on cue, a bright flash of light erupted in the center of the garden. When it faded, the king stood there, flanked by Minister Frost.

“Apologies for the delay,” the king said, his tone kind but weary, deep bags under his eyes betraying his exhaustion. He signaled to a servant standing nearby, who quickly hurried into the residence.

“I still believe we’re too early, Your Majesty—” Frost said, his voice bordering on a whine.

“We’re leaving, shorty,” Papitas interrupted with a carefree wave. She hopped off the carriage and strolled right up to Frost, making him lean back uneasily. “Unless, of course…” She squinted at him suspiciously, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “You’re in cahoots with the Demon Queen and were told to stop us.”

Frost recoiled; his eyes wide with alarm. “W-what?!”

The king chuckled, a deep, genuine laugh that contrasted sharply with his tired appearance. “Miss Papitas, Minister Frost has been serving this kingdom since I was but a boy. I assure you, he has only the nation’s best interests at heart.”

“Y-yes, precisely!” Frost spluttered. “It’s an insult to even suggest such a thing!”

Papitas grinned slyly. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. You just don’t strike me as her type. Too fat. Too bald.”

“Excuse me?” Frost’s face turned crimson, but before he could protest further, the servant returned, carrying a small, ornate treasure chest. He opened it carefully, revealing a bottle of wine nestled in velvet.

“This,” the king said, lifting the bottle reverently, “is a very special vintage from the royal family’s private winery. Smaller than most, yes, but its quality is unparalleled.” The bottle itself was a masterpiece—its glass etched with delicate silver vines and a sapphire-blue seal shimmering faintly in the light. “If this does not serve as a worthy tribute for the Sapphire Spirit, then I doubt anything else will.”

He placed it back into the chest with care, and the servant closed it, bowing deeply before retreating.

“If I may,” came a voice from behind Lalemana, startling everyone. Mildred had appeared out of nowhere, her presence as sudden as a shadow. “I brought something as well.”

“Mildred!” Lalemana exclaimed, her surprise quickly shifting to curiosity as Mildred approached, holding an elegant, rune-covered artifact. The Manaflare.

“It’s hard to believe the day has finally come,” Mildred said, smiling fondly at Lalemana. “Take it.”

Lalemana hesitated, her fingers brushing against the artifact. “Are you sure? This is…”

Mildred nodded, her expression turning serious. “You’re not fully ready yet, but we may not get another chance. Take it.” Her smile returned, softer this time. “Mireya would’ve loved to see this moment. I tried reaching her, but she’s… you know.”

“Unreachable?” Lalemana ventured, half-smiling.

“Exactly. But she’d want me to tell you this,” she mimicked Mireya’s mannerisms, lowering her voice and raising her hands, “If you don’t get the spirit, I’ll kick your ass!”

Lalemana blinked, she stepped back, cradling the Manaflare in her hands. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” Mildred replied, patting her on the shoulder. “And when you do, I’ll be waiting to hear all about it. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“Let’s go alreadyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Papitas yelled, slamming her fist against the carriage door with a resounding thud.

“Easy there!” the carriage driver called nervously, eyeing the shaking door. “I do believe it’s time we depart, though. Archbishop Auberon won’t wait forever—you know how he gets.”

The king placed a steadying hand on Lalemana’s shoulder, his tired eyes managing a flicker of encouragement. “Lady Lalemana, you have my utmost trust. With your efforts, we’ll turn the tides of this war. I know you’ll succeed.”

Lalemana nodded but couldn’t help glancing at her mother. Both women stood frozen for a moment, their composure cracking like porcelain under pressure.

“Oh, Lulú…” Lady Marcella broke first, rushing forward to wrap her daughter in a fierce hug. “Come on now, get out of here before I lose my nerve!” Her voice wavered, but her grip was strong, as if trying to hold Lalemana together as much as herself. Tears streamed freely down her face as she pushed her daughter away.

“Mom…” Lalemana said softly, her own tears threatening to spill as her mother cupped her face.

“Listen to me, Lulú,” Lady Marcella said firmly, her voice thick with emotion. “Don’t let your heart waver. This is everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve dreamed of! Now go out there and make us proud. Do you hear me?” She gave her daughter a final, trembling push.

Lalemana stepped back, bowing deeply to her mother, the king, and everyone present. Daisy mirrored the gesture, her movements as precise as they were solemn, before following Lalemana into the carriage.

Inside, Papitas lounged on her seat, munching on something she’d apparently snuck on board. “Finally! I thought we’d be here until next week! Move it along, noble.”

Lalemana sat by the window, her gaze fixed on her mother until the carriage rolled too far for her to see. She blinked rapidly, suppressing the tears that threatened to spill.

Arcanletia’s Grand Central Station was a tempest of noise and chaos. Steam hissed from the monstrous trains waiting on the platforms, their glossy black exteriors gleaming. The station’s high-vaulted ceilings, crisscrossed with iron girders, amplified the mess of shouts, whistles, and frenzied singing.

Hundreds of Axis followers surged through the station like a tidal wave, their brightly patterned clothes clashing with the drab uniforms of the overwhelmed station staff. Axis priests and nuns barked orders that were promptly ignored as believers scrambled to find their luggage—or their trains—in the ever-shifting tide of humanity. Soldiers, red-faced and sweating, struggled to maintain some semblance of order, their voices drowned out by a mix of chanting and bickering.

“Can you believe it, Artie?” Archbishop Auberon said, his voice almost gleeful as he surveyed the chaos from the steps of the station. “At long last! Make this a pilgrimage they’ll never forget!”

Arthur, who looked like he hadn’t slept in days, groaned audibly. “Archbishop Auberon, why didn’t you listen when I begged you to schedule these groups? We could’ve avoided—” He gestured wildly at the chaos. “—this!”

Archbishop Auberon slapped him on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. “Oh, that’s on me! I forgot. But if you think about it, isn’t it our fault for not reminding me more? Wahahahaha!”

Arthur stared at him, deadpan. “That doesn’t even make—ugh, never mind.”

The chaotic crowd spilled out into the surrounding streets, blocking traffic for several blocks in every direction. The carriage, trapped and utterly useless, had been abandoned long before they reached the station.

Papitas stood out easily, towering over the crowd with the party’s luggage balanced effortlessly on her shoulders.

Lalemana grimaced as she tried to maneuver through the crowd. “How are we supposed to find our way through all this?”

Daisy remained calm, leading the way with surprising ease. “Don’t worry, milady. A full squadron of the Royal Guard is accompanying us. They’ve been briefed on both you and Miss Papitas’ appearances. If we get separated, they’ll find us and guide us. We’re taking the first train departing from Platform A, alongside the other nobles.”

Papitas cocked an eyebrow. “Great. First class chaos.”

Steam hissed from the train’s engine, curling into the air as whistles pierced through the chaos. Arthur paced back and forth on the platform, “Are you sure they’re not here yet? This train has to leave!” he barked, his voice laced with impatience.

One of the nearby army commanders snapped back, “I told you—we’re looking! Watch for white flare smoke; that means someone’s found them and they’re on the way!”

As if on cue, a plume of white smoke billowed into the sky a short distance away. Arthur’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he immediately took off running. When he reached the group, he found Lalemana, Daisy, and Papitas drenched in sweat and visibly tired from the scorching summer heat.

“Finally! Do you three have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?!” he scolded, his frustration boiling over.

“I-I’m sorry—!” Daisy began, bowing deeply in apology.

“It’s a miracle we made it through this mess!” Lalemana cut in, gesturing at the crowd behind them. “There must be over a thousand people out there! Who planned this circus? An idiot?”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, just save the complaints and follow me. We need to get moving before the train leaves without you.” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and marched back toward the platform.

Once at the train, Arthur directed them toward the first-class cart, where staff hurried to help Papitas load their luggage. Daisy chatted briefly with a group of Royal Guards, her voice carrying calm efficiency.

Arthur handed Lalemana off to the train staff with a quick wave. “This’ll be a long trip, but you’ll be comfortable here. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Lalemana frowned, her hands on her hips. “Wait, Arthur—are you not coming with us?”

Arthur paused, glancing at her over his shoulder with a smirk. “Babysit a runaway noble? Nah. There are plenty of guards for that.” He nodded toward the Royal Guard stationed at the cart’s entrance. “I’ll catch the last train out after making sure everyone else boards safely. If Lady Aqua wills it, I’ll see you in Ilyora before the hard part of the pilgrimage starts.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he waved lazily and strode off, his ledger tucked under one arm.

Lalemana puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “Hmph!” she muttered, watching his retreating back.

Papitas stretched her arms with an exaggerated yawn. “About time. Let’s get on already,” she said, her tone as casual as if Lalemana wasn’t leaving the only home she’d ever known.

The three boarded the train, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpet as they entered the first-class cart.

The interior gleamed with opulence. Polished mahogany paneling framed walls adorned with gilded sconces and silk drapes. The soft hum of the train’s machinery barely intruded on the serene atmosphere, muffled by thick carpets and velvet upholstery.

The trio found their seats in an alcove near the front of the cart. It was an inviting space with a low table dividing two rows of ample, cushioned seats. Daisy and Lalemana slid into one side, the latter claiming the window seat. Papitas plopped into the seat across from them, stretching her legs beneath the table as though she owned the place.

Lalemana leaned back, glancing around the cart. “This almost makes up for the disaster outside,” she muttered. Papitas didn’t respond—she had already started to doze, her snores rising steadily above the faint clatter of the train.

Despite the constant whistles and shouts, it took another two hours before the train jolted into motion. The gradual hum of acceleration replaced the clamor outside, and the muffled cheers of the crowd faded into the distance. Lalemana rested her chin on her hand, her gaze fixed on the window as the cityscape of Arcanletia began to melt away.

The familiar cobbled streets and pastel rooftops of her home blurred together before vanishing entirely. The towering spires of Axis temples that had dominated the skyline gave way to stretches of green fields and the vast, open horizon. The train rumbled past the city’s perimeter wall, marking the boundary between the world Lalemana had known her whole life and the unknown awaiting her.

This was it. She was officially gone.

Yet, instead of triumph or even relief, her chest felt unbearably heavy. Her thoughts churned, an unrelenting tide of worry and self-doubt. What’s waiting for me out there? What happens if I fail? What happens if I... don’t come back?

Her mother’s words from earlier echoed in her mind. Don’t let your heart waver. But the knot in her stomach only tightened. Her hand curled into a fist against her knee.

Daisy noticed her expression and leaned closer. “Milady, are you alright?”

Lalemana forced a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Daisy hesitated but nodded, letting the conversation drop. Lalemana returned her gaze to the window, watching as the city faded entirely from view. She placed a hand on the cool glass, her fingers trembling slightly.

Goodbye, Arcanletia.

Part 6

Miles west, deep within the ruins of the former Royal Capital, an unusual flurry of activity had taken hold.

For over a century, no human had dared to tread on what remained of the once-thriving city. The verdant greenery that had once surrounded it had long since succumbed to the harsh desert that now stretched endlessly across the region. Between the unforgiving environment and the countless monsters prowling its dunes, any attempt to recover treasures or relics from the ruins was nothing short of suicidal.

But for the Demon Queen’s forces, this desolate wasteland served a far greater purpose. The ruins had become a major base of operations—a critical waypoint between the Demon Capital and the frontlines against the Kingdom of Belzerg. Yet even for a site as strategically important as this, the current level of activity was extraordinary. Hundreds of monsters swarmed through the city, making several kinds of engravements across the ruins.

High above the chaos, atop the last standing tower of the crumbling Royal Castle, a dimly lit room hummed with tension.

Shadows danced along the cracked stone walls, the flickering light from a single candelabrum casting long, distorted shapes across the chamber. Around a massive, weathered table sat several high-ranking demons, their faces obscured by the low light.

Amid the chaos, a single figure reclined lazily in their chair, seeming entirely unbothered by the heated debate. An amused smile on its lips carried an unsettling edge. It held a small piece of paper  in one hand, its edges slightly singed as if the message had been delivered via magical means.

The text, short and cryptic, was all too clear:

[MVP en route. Verdant Heights.]

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: A peaceful trip? Not on my watch!

Part 1

Papitas found herself standing in a barren wasteland. The sky above was a swirling mix of red and black, with flashes of lightning lighting up jagged mountains in the distance. The ground was littered with broken weapons, cracked armor, and the fading forms of defeated enemies.

In front of her knelt the Demon Queen. Head on the ground, her wings drooping and torn, and her horns gave off faint, flickering sparks. She looked up at Papitas, her face a mix of pride and exhaustion.

“Ooooooohohohoho!” Papitas laughed, planting a foot firmly on the Demon Queen’s behind. “Evil has been defeated! My crimson fists prevailed!”

“I... I was completely defeated…” the Demon Queen gasped, clutching at the ground. “Please… spare me…”

“Spare you?!” Papitas raised her fist to the sky, grinning wide. “From now on, the world will know me as Papitas, the greatest adventurer ever!”

“Yes… you are the greatest… for defeating me…” the Demon Queen muttered, her voice fading.

“Ooooooohohohoho!” Papitas’ laughter echoed across the battlefield. But her triumph was cut short when her nose twitched. “Wait… what’s that smell? Is something burning?”

Before she could figure it out, the whole scene blurred and vanished.

Papitas jolted awake as the train gave a sharp lurch. She groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Ugh… what’s that smell?”

Opening her eyes fully, she found herself staring at Lalemana, who sat across from her by the window. A lit cigarette in her hand, the ashtray on the table was piled high with cigarette butts. Thick smoke hung in the air.

“Seriously? Did you smoke all that yourself?” Papitas waved her hand in front of her nose.

“As if!” Lalemana snapped, not taking her eyes off the window. The cigarette in her hand shook slightly. “I—I didn’t smoke…”

“Milady always smokes when she’s nervous,” Daisy explained as she tried to wave away the smoke. “This is her first time leaving the city in a long while.”

“Daisy!” Lalemana hissed, crushing the cigarette into the ashtray. She grabbed for another one, only to find her pack empty. “Ugh, you didn’t have to tell her that!”

Papitas leaned over and shoved the train window open, letting in a rush of cool air. “My dad and brother smoke too, and I can’t stand it. Don’t light another one while I’m here.”

“You don’t give me orders, commoner!” Lalemana shot back, though her voice was less forceful than usual.

Daisy nodded, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll have to agree with Miss Papitas, milady. You should take a break. Smoking isn’t good for you, and it’s my duty to keep you safe.”

“Ugh…” Lalemana groaned, slumping forward to rest her head on the table.

Meanwhile, Papitas leaned her head out the window, letting the wind whip through her hair. When she pulled back inside, her hair had puffed into a ridiculous pompadour.

“How long have we been traveling?” she asked, running a hand through her hair. “Where are we?”

“It’s been a few hours,” Daisy said, looking out the window. The sky had started to turn orange with the setting sun. “We should be close to Axel. The train stops there to pick up more passengers, so we’ll have a chance to stretch our legs.”

“Axel?!” Papitas leaned in close to Daisy, her expression twisting into a scowl. “Why do we have to pass through that awful place?!”

“Did something happen to you there, Miss Papitas?”

“Actually…” Papitas’ mood shifted in an instant. She leaned back, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Can we stop by the adventurers’ guild? There’s someone I’d love to see.”

Daisy shook her head. “The train station is on the edge of the city, and the guild’s downtown. If we go there, we might miss the train. We should stick around the station and grab dinner nearby.”

“Aww…” Papitas sighed dramatically, flopping back into her seat. “Fine. Not like it matters. That bitch will hear about my amazing feats soon enough anyway! Hehehe…”

Daisy didn’t know how to respond to Papitas’ bizarre train of thought and decided silence was the safer option. After a moment, she clapped her hands together, her usual cheerful energy returning.

“Oh, I know! Now that Miss Papitas is awake, how about you tell us about your adventures? It’ll be a great way for you two to get to know each other in a more peaceful way,” she said, gently patting Lalemana on the back. Lalemana, however, remained unmoving, her face still buried in the table.

“I couldn’t care less about this commoner’s so-called stories,” Lalemana muttered, her voice muffled by the table.

“In Axel, they used to call me the Great Crimson Demon because of my incredible power!” Papitas declared, puffing out her chest. Her words were bold, but her eyes darted away from Daisy, avoiding direct contact. “I was always the first to take on the most dangerous quests. It got to the point where every other adventurer party fled town because they couldn’t compete with me!”

“Really? That’s amazing! I’ve heard the Royal Army’s been recruiting adventurers from all over the country. Was that how they found you?”

“Uh, y-yeah, obviously!” Papitas stammered, adjusting her sunglasses. “They wanted to send me straight to the frontlines, but then one of them noticed my striking crimson eyes!” She lowered her sunglasses dramatically.

“Must be destiny, right, milady?” Daisy said, glancing at Lalemana with an encouraging smile. “What would we have done without Miss Papitas?”

“Ugh…” Lalemana lifted her head again with a loud groan, sitting back and crossing her arms.

Daisy, undeterred, leaned forward with a friendly smile. “We’ve got plenty of time, Miss Papitas. Why don’t you tell us more about your adventures? I’m sure milady will enjoy hearing them, too.”

“Ah, well…” Papitas cleared her throat, clearly enjoying the attention. “The first time I arrived in Axel, I spotted a helpless party of beginner adventurers battling some giant frogs. Naturally, I rushed in to assist them…”

Sometime later...

“…supposedly the Mobile Fortress Destroyer was destroyed near Axel,” Papitas finished, leaning back in her seat. Night had fallen, and the world outside the window was pitch black except for a few glowing lights in the distance.

“I’m not sure the Destroyer was real,” Daisy said, clearly engrossed in the conversation. She was now chatting easily with Papitas. Lalemana, on the other hand, hadn’t uttered a word the entire time. “There’s hardly any evidence it—or that so-called magical kingdom it came from—ever existed.”

“I’m telling you, it was real!” Papitas insisted, gesturing wildly. “There are craters everywhere around Axel! If it wasn’t the Destroyer, then there must’ve been some kind of massive fight—”

The sharp whistle of the train cut her off, and the cabin jolted slightly as the train began to slow. Outside, the silhouettes of houses and fields came into view, the city’s barrier wall just visible in the distance. The darkness gave way to rows of lit buildings as the train pulled closer to the station.

“Finally!” Lalemana groaned as she stretched dramatically outside the train, lifting her arms. The bustling station was packed with people, many wearing the unmistakable robes of Axis Church believers. “Of course, even here, this town is crawling with them.”

“They said the train will resume in about an hour,” Daisy mimicked her stretch with a cheerful yawn. “That should give us plenty of time to rest.”

“Hey, commoner,” Lalemana’s tone dripped with condescension as she shot a glare toward Papitas, who was perched precariously on the roof of the train. “Why don’t you go on your own? Better yet, just stay in this city for good. I’m sure everyone would be better off.”

Papitas hopped down with a flourish, landing beside Lalemana with an overly dramatic bow. Placing a hand firmly on Lalemana’s shoulder, she grinned. “Sorry to disappoint, noble, but you’re stuck with me. You’ll just have to watch as I get that spirit and use it to beat the Demon Queen! Oooooohohohohoho!”

“Grrh—!” Lalemana’s frustration was practically visible as she ground her teeth.

“We’d better get moving,” Daisy interjected quickly, placing herself between the two with a practiced smile. “The restaurants around here are bound to fill up fast. Let’s grab a table before it’s too late.”

The trio made their way through Axel’s crowded streets. The city was alive with activity, every block near the train station buzzing. After wandering for what felt like forever, they finally stumbled upon a modest restaurant with a few empty tables.

Once seated, Daisy flipped through a menu, still multitasking as she checked on the Royal Guard. She spent most of the day ensuring her colleagues were at their posts, they were once again slacking off.

“What’s the specialty here?” Lalemana asked, scanning her menu with a skeptical eye.

“Fried frog,” Papitas answered with an exaggerated shudder. “And let me tell you, I’d be happy to never eat that again!” She sighed and closed her menu with an air of relief. “Finally, I can have some decent food!”

Lalemana wrinkled her nose. “What kind of barbarian eats frogs?”

“Adventurers, obviously,” Papitas shot back, smirking.

After placing their orders, an awkward silence descended over the table. Daisy shifted uncomfortably, the tension between Lalemana and Papitas thicker than the gravy on fried frog. Lalemana and Papitas not only refused to talk to each other, but even to look at each other unless really needed.

“Oh, um, how about we go over our journey?” Daisy suggested pulling out a map and spreading it across the table. “We left Arcanletia five hours ago and stopped here in Axel.” She pointed to the map, tracing their route.

Papitas leaned in, her curiosity piqued. “I’ve never seen a map of this country before. Where exactly are we heading?”

“Our final destination is Verdant Heights,” Daisy explained, sliding her finger southward across the map. “But the train only goes as far as Ilyora.” She moved her hand north. “The rest of the way is on foot. It’s mountainous terrain, and the Great Spirit of the Storm makes it nearly impassable most of the year with constant rain. This pilgrimage has a short window while the spirit travels northeast.”

“Arthur mentioned that the hardest part is on foot,” Lalemana added, finally joining the conversation.

“That’s right, milady,” Daisy nodded, “It’ll take us two days to reach Ilyora by train. It’s Monday night, we should arrive there by Wednesday around noon. From there, it’ll take another five days to reach Verdant Heights.” She scratched her cheek thoughtfully. “I don’t know much about the second part of the pilgrimage, though. Arthur insisted the less we know the better.”

Papitas groaned, leaning back in her chair. “An entire day on a train? That sounds like torture.”

“The train will stop to refuel and pick up passengers a few more times before we reach Ilyora,” Daisy explained, tracing a route on the map. “We’ll pass through some large cities like Cragspire, Dristlyn, and Fenrith Hollow. I’m from Dristlyn, so I’m looking forward to visiting, even if just briefly.”

“Dristlyn? I didn’t know that,” Lalemana said, glancing up from her menu. “You should visit your family, Daisy. We’ve been together every day for months. They must miss you.”

“It’s been over a year since I last saw them,” Daisy replied, her voice calm but wistful. “Not since I joined the Royal Army. But I can’t make it in time. My family’s estate is pretty far from the station.”

Lalemana frowned. “Still, you’ve worked. It’s not fair—”

“Wait a minute,” Papitas interrupted, pointing her fork at Daisy. “Estate? You’re a noble? What’s a noble doing in the army? Shouldn’t you be molesting your maids or something?”

“Really?” Lalemana huffed, glaring at Papitas. “Daisy is nothing like that! She’s dignified, dependable, and an excellent knight!” She gestured dramatically at Daisy, as if presenting a flawless statue. “She’s a noble like me!”

Daisy, blushing slightly, raised her hand. “Um, very low-ranking noble, actually.”

Papitas smirked. “So low-ranking you joined the army for kicks? Let me guess, you’re also the black sheep of your family?”

“Well…” Daisy hesitated, folding her hands on the table. “It’s a bit more complicated. My family isn’t doing well financially. With the war, the Royal Army offers the best-paying jobs in the country. I joined to make sure my younger brothers could stay in school.”

Daisy paused, then flashed a tired but hopeful smile, making a casual victory sign with her fingers.

For once, Papitas didn’t have a comeback. She and Lalemana exchanged a quick glance, silently agreeing to let the topic drop. The silence was broken by the arrival of their food, prompting a collective sigh of relief.

“Well, no use letting it get cold!” Daisy said cheerfully, clapping her hands together. “Let’s eat. Judging by the crowd outside, just getting back to the train will take a miracle.”

Later that night.

The train rattled on through the dark countryside, its lights dimmed to near blackness. Inside their car, Papitas was sprawled across her seat like an overturned sack of potatoes, snoring loud enough to scare off wildlife.

Lalemana, by contrast, sat perfectly upright, arms crossed delicately over her chest, every strand of her hair somehow still in place.

Daisy sat, rubbing her bleary eyes, dark circles etched beneath them. Her head bobbed forward, only for her to jolt awake each time. A quick glance around the dim train car confirmed her suspicion—no sign of her fellow Royal Guards to relieve her of her duty and let her rest.

They’re probably helping manage the passengers she thought under her breath, though the excuse rang hollow. This wasn’t the first time her colleagues had been ‘delayed’. If she didn’t know better, she might’ve thought they were avoiding her entirely.

She sighed, resting her forehead on the window, the cold glass a welcome relief. Whatever was going on, she didn’t have the energy to solve it now.

“I’ll have to talk to them tomorrow,” she mumbled, though deep down, she wasn’t sure what good it would do.

Part 2

…No, no, no! You’re doing it all wrong!” Papitas exclaimed, slamming the table for good measure.

“I don’t get it,” Lalemana said, frowning as she studied the cards in her hand. She gestured toward the cards on the table between them.

“Do you have any 2s?” Papitas asked, her tone suddenly all business.

“Yeah.”

“I just threw a 2! If you play a matching card, that’s a strike—two points. Or, you could play a 7. See how there’s a 2 and a 5 on the table? 2 plus 5 equals 7, so you’d scoop all three cards. If your move clears the table completely, that’s called a sweep—also worth two points. First to forty wins. Got it?”

“Ohhhhh, okay,” Lalemana nodded, her expression lighting up with understanding. Then she frowned again. “But why do you get to play twice?”

“The game’s meant for teams of two, but there’s only three of us. So, I’m playing solo, but as my own team,” Papitas explained, smugly tapping the cards in front of her.

“I know! But you’re using two hands to play instead of alternating turns—it’s basically cheating!”

“It’s not cheating! I’d know all the cards anyway! What’s the difference?” Papitas shot back, folding her arms smugly.

At least they’re talking, Daisy thought, her head bobbing slightly as exhaustion dragged at her eyelids. Deep bags shadowed her face, she tried to make the strongest coffee she could manage that morning, but even that hadn’t helped.

Talking with her colleagues of the Royal Guard got her no results, even the commander was seemingly unaware they were supposed to guard Lalemana and wouldn’t listen to a lower ranking soldier like Daisy. What was the Royal Guard supposed to do then? She tried to argue, but the commander was unwilling to listen.

She resigned herself to the fact that she’d have to guard them completely on her own through the whole pilgrimage.

“Daisy! Helloooo?” Lalemana’s sharp tone jolted her back to reality. “It’s your turn!”

“Huh?” Daisy blinked, half-dazed. “Oh, right…” She reached for a card—in Lalemana’s hand.

“Hey, what are you doing!” Lalemana hissed, yanking her cards away.

“Oh, sorry! I’m just a little tired,” Daisy mumbled, to everyone’s surprise, her move struck Papitas and cleared the table in a sweep, causing the sunglasses wearing martial artist to yelp.

“I’d say you’re more than just tired,” Papitas muttered after recovering. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night.”

Before Daisy could reply, a shrill whistle pierced the air, and the train screeched to an abrupt halt. The sudden braking sent everyone in their car tumbling, along a cacophony of crashing tableware.

“What in the world was that?!” a nobleman barked; his expensive suit now splattered with what smelled like hot soup.

A flustered train worker stumbled in from the adjoining car, “Apologies, esteemed passengers! We’ve encountered a minor issue. Please remain calm; we’ll be moving again shortly!”

“Minor issue?” The nobleman jabbed an accusatory finger at the worker. “We paid handsomely to ensure a smooth, uninterrupted journey! This train is not to stop anywhere but at designated stations!”

“I-I know sir!” the worker said, raising his palms, “I assure you it’ll be a very brief stop, we’re already working on solving it!”

“What happened?” Daisy approached, her soft tone easing both the worker and the nobleman.

“There’s an obstruction on the tracks, boulders. Must’ve been some rockslide, I’m sure it’ll be cleared up soon.”

Papitas looked out the window, there were no mountains or hills anywhere nearby, the train had been traveling through flatlands for hours.

A woman’s panicked voice suddenly rang out from another part of the car. “It’s a trap! Bandits are stopping the train! They’re going to rob us!”

Chaos erupted as murmurs of fear spread through the passengers.

Almost as if on cue, a loud bang echoed outside, followed by monstrous roars that sent shivers through the train car.

“It’s an army of goblins!” shouted a nobleman, his face pale as he peered out the window. A second later, a hail of arrows crashed into the train, shattering several windows and sending passengers diving for cover.

The train car erupted into chaos. A series of metallic screeches reverberated as the sliding doors along the train opened, and a defensive line of mercenaries and Royal Army

Daisy immediately took charge. “Milady, Miss Papitas, please remain here!” she ordered, her voice unusually firm as she unholstered her sword.

Outside, the soldiers and mercenaries scrambled to get ready. The commander of the Royal Army, a grizzled man with a voice that could rival a thunderstorm, barked orders. “Swordsmen to the front! Mages, form a casting line at the rear! Priests, prepare support spells! Muskets—steady aim and wait for my command!”

“What in the world, there’s thousands of them!” a mage getting ready said, as he took a good look at the goblin army.

“Ha!” A mocking voice rang out, loud enough to overshadow the clamor of preparations. “Is this the best the Demon Queen can send to stop me?”

Papitas stood triumphantly atop the train carriage, her arms spread wide in a theatrical pose. Below her, the goblin army stretched across the field, their dark green forms contrasting starkly with the lush, bright grass of the flatlands. The goblins are typical of what one might find in a bestiary—short, scrawny creatures with thin limbs and leathery skin. Their tiny, beady black eyes darted nervously, and their long tongues flicked out of their mouths in grotesque, serpentine motions. Most were armed with crude clubs or sticks, their armor nothing more than wooden scraps bound together with twine.

From this vantage point, Papitas could see the chaotic army in its entirety. The goblins swarmed like a green tide, though their formation looked more like a squabble over scraps than an organized attack.

“What are you doing!? Get down from there!” Lalemana shouted, climbing up after her.

Before Lalemana could stop her, Papitas leaped dramatically from the roof of the carriage. She landed with a heavy thud, creating a small cloud of dust between the Royal Army’s defensive line and the goblin horde. “Prepare yourselves!” she declared, thrusting a finger toward the enemy. “For after today, I’ll be known as Papitas, the Goblin Slayer!”

Her eyes lit up with an eerie crimson glow, which made some goblins visibly flinch. Their instincts screamed at them to run, though their tiny brains hadn’t caught up with the idea.

“Miss Papitas! Stop!” Daisy called out, her voice full of panic.

“Quickly, draw their attention!” barked a nearby commander. The defensive line sprang into action, launching volleys of spells and bullets into the goblin masses. But even the chaos of the battlefield couldn’t overshadow Papitas’ reckless charge.

“Daaaaaaaaaaah!” Papitas screamed as she ran headlong toward the horde. The goblins, emboldened by her lone presence, began charging back with frenzied shrieks.

“Wah—!” Papitas’ war cry abruptly turned into a yelp as her foot caught on a slight rise in the uneven ground. She tripped spectacularly, landing flat on her face. The goblins closest to her skidded to a halt, their high-pitched screeches turning into confused mutters as they crept closer, weapons raised.

“Miss Papitas!” Daisy sprinted toward her, though the short girl proved to be much faster than she looked.

Papitas stirred, rising shakily to her feet. The ground beneath her shifted, cracks spiderwebbing outward. Suddenly, with a loud rumble, a massive chunk of earth erupted from the ground, lifting a dozen goblins into the air with it. Papitas grabbed the massive chunk and began to spin, hurling the boulder high into the air. It vanished into the sky, the tiny goblins clinging to it screaming as they disappeared from sight.

Dirt-covered but triumphant, Papitas struck a pose. “Alright, who’s next!?”

A goblin lunged at her with a crude spear, and Papitas quickly raised her leg to counter. But her kick missed entirely, her foot swinging wide. The goblin’s makeshift spear tore through the bandages on her left leg, drawing blood.

“Aaargh!” Papitas howled, clutching her leg. The goblin grinned wickedly, its tiny, sharp teeth gleaming. Just as it began to cackle in victory, Papitas lashed out with her uninjured leg.

Her kick connected this time—and with such force that a thunderous boom echoed across the battlefield. The goblin rocketed into the sky, a tiny green dot growing smaller and smaller until it vanished entirely.

“See that?” Papitas yelled, turning to the goblins still hesitating on the edge of the battlefield. “You’re next!”

The chaos of the battlefield was abruptly silenced by a deep, guttural roar. A larger goblin emerged, perched atop a snorting war hog. Its crude helmet, fashioned from the skull of some beast, added an air of authority. With one powerful cry, it bellowed a commanding roar that echoed across the field, snapping the goblins into formation. Their chaotic scrambling became an organized, though ragged, line.

“What are you waiting for? Are we seriously going to let a little girl do all the work!?” barked one of the commanders. “Attack!”

The soldiers jolted back into action. Muskets cracked and bolts of magic streaked across the field, tearing through the goblin ranks. Behind the front lines, priests raised their hands, casting shimmering barriers over their allies, while knights and mercenaries surged forward, weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

“Now this is a real battle!” Papitas shouted, her grin widening as she leapt high into the air and landed with a crash in the thick of the goblin ranks.

“Miss Papitas!” Daisy called out, still weaving through the chaos in pursuit of the reckless girl. Unfortunately, the newly organized goblins stood in her way, snarling and brandishing their crude weapons.

“Daisy, I’ll handle this! You go after that idiot!” Lalemana appeared beside her, sword and Manaflare in hand.

“Milady, please return to the train! I can take care of it,” Daisy insisted, her voice edged with concern.

“I know how to fight too, Daisy! Let me help!” Lalemana snapped, frustration clear in her voice. Daisy hesitated. The cacophony of battle around them—the clash of steel, the roar of spells, and the snarls of goblins—made it impossible to think clearly.

Amidst the chaos, Papitas' battle cries somehow drowned out even the thunder of muskets and the explosions of magic. Her crimson eyes burned with excitement as she waded through the goblin horde, fists swinging. Though for every twenty swings, maybe one goblin was sent soaring to the sky.

The goblins’ morale crumbled as their comrades were launched into the air. Many began to flee, their weapons abandoned in favor of survival.

“Get back here, you cowards!” Papitas yelled, chasing after a pair of fleeing goblins. Her enthusiasm waned as she realized she was running out of targets.

Meanwhile, the knights carved effortlessly through the goblin ranks. Their shining armor gleamed under the midday sun, each strike precise and devastating. Goblins fell like wheat before a scythe, their armor offering little resistance to the sharpened blades. The tide of battle was entirely one-sided; the goblins stood no chance against the disciplined Royal Army.

“Damn it!” Papitas grumbled, slowing her pursuit. She paused as something caught her eye. A group of goblins stood stock-still in the middle of the battlefield, oddly rigid compared to the fleeing horde.

“What’s going on over there?” she muttered. Before she could make sense of it, her attention was drawn to the shouts of nearby soldiers.

“There are kobolds here too!” one cried, his voice filled with alarm.

“And junior lizardmen! I’ve never heard of monsters like this working together!” another added, panic creeping into his tone.

Papitas’ grin returned. “Finally, a challenge!” She redirected her charge, bolting toward the unmoving goblins. Their unnatural stillness made them stand out, but she didn’t care. With a mighty punch, she struck the nearest one square in the face.

Instead of being sent flying like its comrades, the goblin’s body bent backward unnaturally, its torso arching like rubber.

“Huh?” Papitas muttered, confused. Before she could process what had happened, the goblin snapped back into shape, its rebound delivering an immense force that struck her square in the chest.

Papitas groaned but quickly scrambled to her feet, her eyes blazing with determination. “Oh, it’s on now!” she roared, charging back toward whatever had struck her.

This time, Papitas landed in between the funny looking goblins before unleashing a powerful roundhouse kick that connected all of them. As before, instead of flying away, the creatures bent unnaturally backward before snapping forward like a rubber band. Papitas found herself clobbered on all sides as the other odd creatures joined in, ricocheting back with the same strength as her attack.

“…not…gob…” she heard a faint, familiar voice as her head spun, the world tilting dangerously. Shadows danced in her blurred vision, moving closer at an alarming speed.

What’s going on? She groaned internally, barely able to steady herself. It felt like she had been hit by a runaway cart.

“Miss Papitas, get out of there! Those are not goblins!” Daisy’s voice broke through the haze.

“Huh?” Papitas muttered, blinking as the ground beneath her shifted ominously. Suddenly, the earth split open, revealing a towering monster rising from below. The funny-looking goblins were grotesque appendages attached to its thrashing tail, now revealed as fleshy, bulbous organs.

“That’s a Mimic Marionette!” Daisy shouted, her sword drawn. “They have decoy organs that look like weak monsters to lure adventurers! They’re incredibly dangerous!”

The Mimic Marionette loomed over Papitas, its body resembling a monstrous salamander. Its glossy skin reflecting the light like polished obsidian. Its toothless mouth twisted into something almost resembling a grin. It lashed its tail, sending the goblin-shaped appendages whipping through the air. Its long, forked tongue flicked across its lips as if savoring its next meal.

With terrifying speed, the monster lunged forward, one massive paw swiping at Papitas. She managed to block with her forearms crossed but was still sent flying back, tumbling across the battlefield.

Bruised and battered, Papitas stared at the sky, her mind racing. I-I can’t move! she realized in panic as the heavy, deliberate steps of the monster grew closer. Forcing her head up, she saw its hulking figure looming above her, paws raised to deliver the finishing blow.

Aaaargh, this is such a lame way to die! she yelled internally, squeezing her eyes shut.

Just as the paws descended, a shadow darted across her vision. A figure moved with breathtaking speed, her movements fluid and precise, slicing across the Mimic Marionette like a whirlwind. The monster froze, its body trembling, before collapsing with a thud that shook the ground.

Daisy stood behind it, her posture flawless, the tip of her sword pointed toward the ground.

“What happened? Did you kill it?” Papitas staggered to her feet, still aching all over. She stared at the motionless monster, puzzled. “There are no cut marks or blood. But it’s not breathing—”

Before she could finish, Lalemana rushed past her. “Daisy, that was amazing! What did you do!?” Her eyes sparkled with admiration, practically glowing.

“Oh, um, that was a skill called Razor Serenade,” Daisy explained, cleaning her blade with practiced ease. “It’s my preferred technique. It’s clean, efficient… and doesn’t leave a mess behind.”

“Serenade?” Papitas interjected, shoving Lalemana aside. “What kind of knight serenades their opponent?”

“Oh, ‘knight’ is just my job title,” Daisy replied matter-of-factly, sliding her sword back into its scabbard. “My class is Sword Dancer.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?” Both girls exclaimed, their heads whipping around to face her, cheeks colliding.

“Why am I just finding out about this?” Lalemana pushed closer to Daisy, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Well, you never asked, milady,” Daisy said, brushing her hair aside. “We mostly talk about you, after all. I’ve loved dancing since I was little, and had Dancer registered as my starting class, after joining the army, it was easy to move to Sword Dancer as my advanced class.”

“Hold on,” Papitas interjected, narrowing her eyes. “Aren’t Sword Dancers supposed to use two swords?”

“We are, but in the Royal Guard, it’s standard to use only one. I got used to it,” Daisy explained with a small shrug.

“Here!” Lalemana exclaimed, handing Daisy her own sword. “Use this! I want to see more Sword Dancer skills!”

“Uh…” Daisy hesitated, glancing between the eager pair.

“Yes, come on!” Papitas added, clapping her hands together. “I’ve heard Sword Dancer fights are better than any theater performance! Show us some moves!”

The two girls began hyping up Sword Dancers as if discussing their favorite action hero. “Their elegance!” Lalemana exclaimed. “Their precision!” Papitas added. “The way they can turn a battlefield into a stage!”

Daisy sighed, relenting. She took both swords and stepped forward, her posture shifting gracefully. She crossed one foot in front of the other, leaving a small gap between them, her front heel aligned with the arch of her back foot. Her stance was poised yet firm, balancing elegance and readiness. Both swords angled downward, their tips nearly touching. Despite her delicate stance, an aura of deadly focus radiated from her.

“Very well,” Daisy said, her voice calm yet commanding. “But only if you two return to the train immediately.”

“Aww, but—” Papitas and Lalemana whined in unison.

“No buts,” Daisy said firmly, her unwavering tone leaving no room for argument. “If you don’t head to safety, I won’t move a muscle.”

Grumbling, the two finally began retreating. Satisfied, Daisy adjusted her grip on the swords. With a deep breath, she leapt into the fray, her movements as graceful as a dancer’s, cutting through the chaos like a whirlwind of steel and elegance.

She twirled between the goblins, her swords weaving intricate arcs of gleaming steel. Each strike was precise, severing weapons, disarming foes, and incapacitating them with swift, fluid motions. As she spun, the rhythm of her steps seemed almost hypnotic, her feet gliding across the battlefield with the finesse of a performer on stage. Within moments, the once-chaotic cluster of goblins had fallen into disarray, many retreating in fear of the deadly yet mesmerizing figure.

The battle ended less than an hour later as the goblin army retreated, leaving the once-vibrant grass field littered with the remains of defeated monsters. Smoke from small fires drifted lazily into the sky, mingling with the scent of blood. A few injured adventurers sat against the train cars, their wounds being tended to by priests, while others worked to gather the fallen monsters into a single pile.

Daisy sat atop a Mimic Marionette’s lifeless body, her breathing steady despite her earlier exertion. Not a speck of dirt or blood tarnished her pristine armor, her hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders as if untouched by the chaos.

“Well, howdy there, missy. You’re Royal Guard, ain’tcha?” A female archer approached. She extended a glass toward Daisy, her bow slung over her shoulder, a quiver half-emptied by the fight.

“Thank you,” Daisy replied, accepting gracefully and taking a sip. “And yes, you’re right.”

“Figured,” the archer said, tipping her wide-brimmed hat. “Ain’t often you see one of y’all actually doin’ somethin’ useful.” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at a small group of Royal Guards some distance away. “Your buddies there? Might as well’ve been statues. Didn’t lift a finger while we were fightin’ tooth and nail out here.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval, her gaze returning to Daisy. “Guess you’re the exception.”

Daisy remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line. The archer’s words echoed with her own frustrations; her comrades stayed behind during the battle, contributing nothing, even now as others were tending to the injured and clearing the battlefield.

“Somethin’ about this whole mess feels off,” the archer continued, her voice dropping slightly.

“What do you mean?” Daisy asked, though her attention wavered, her eyes flicking toward the idle Royal Guards again.

“Well, goblins don’t work like this, not normally. They’re pests, sure, but organizin’ an army? That ain’t their style. And attackin’ a train like this?” The archer paused, adjusting her hat. “They never stood a chance against us. So why even try?”

Daisy’s mind raced as the archer spoke. She had been asking herself the same questions. Where did the goblin army come from? Who lead them? The Demon Queen’s involvement was the only explanation that made sense, but the train was far from the frontlines. And, why target a pilgrimage anyway? Her gaze instinctively drifted to the train car near the front, where Lalemana and Papitas were likely resting.

Could they be the reason? No... that’s impossible.

“Anyway, you should probably head back to your post,” the archer said, snapping Daisy out of her thoughts. “It’s rare to see a hardworkin’ Royal Guard, so keep it up, y’hear?” She gave Daisy a casual wave before walking off.

Near the front of the train, a heated argument broke the relative quiet. Daisy turned to see a rotund noble in an elaborate, feathered hat gesticulating wildly as he barked orders at a Royal Guard commander. The commander, an older man with chiseled features and a near bald head, stood unmoved, his polished armor gleaming in the sun.

“Get those damn rocks off the tracks!” the noble shouted, jabbing his finger into the commander’s chest plate. “We have a limited window for this trip, and I will not disappoint Lady Aqua!”

The commander’s expression didn’t waver. “We were sent to look over this train, not to move boulders,” his voice calm but edged with authority. “The army or those mercenaries can handle it.”

“The army and mercenaries are exhausted after the battle!” the train conductor interjected; his face flushed with frustration. His uniform was neatly pressed despite the chaos. “The train isn’t sturdy enough to power through those rocks. If they’re not cleared, we’ll be stuck here indefinitely!”

The noble huffed, his face reddening further. “Then do something, Commander! Or are you as useless as the rest of the Royal Guard?”

Daisy clenched her fists, watching the exchange from a distance, the tension rising like the smoke on the battlefield.

Daisy squinted at the boulders blocking the tracks. Among the cluster of stones, the largest one stood out—it towered over the train itself, easily twice its height. She might’ve wondered how such massive rocks had ended up here if her sharp eyes hadn’t caught sight of two familiar figures by the colossal boulder. A petite girl with a mass of voluminous black hair stood next to a taller, blonde-haired girl whose posture radiated calm authority.

“Listen,” the Royal Guard commander was still arguing with the noble, his patience clearly thinning. “I don’t get paid to move rocks, nor do I take orders from—” His voice faltered as the gigantic boulder began to rise, drawing gasps from the gathered crowd.

“No, no! Don’t drop it here!” Lalemana’s voice rang out, her hands on her hips as she tilted her head up at the enormous stone. “If you damage the tracks, we’re not going anywhere. Walk a bit further over there, then drop it.”

Papitas, veins bulging in her arms and her face crimson from the strain, hoisting the boulder overhead. “Easy for you to say! This thing’s really heavy!” she groaned, her legs trembling slightly with each step. The ground quaked underfoot with every move, drawing more onlookers as the scene unfolded.

“Alright, that’s far enough. Toss it over there,” Lalemana ordered, pointing to a nearby open area.

Papitas let out a strained cry and hurled the massive stone with all her might. It landed with a thunderous crash, splintering into jagged chunks and sending tremors through the ground. A faint cloud of dust rose from the impact site, leaving an awestruck silence in its wake.

“Phew!” Papitas stretched her arms overhead, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “That must’ve been the heaviest one. Let’s move the rest and—wait a second,” her eyes narrowed at Lalemana. “Why’d you make me lift it like that? I could’ve just rolled it away!”

Lalemana’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, her blue eyes sparkling with playful malice. “Hehe… because it’s more fun watching you struggle, Monkey.”

Papitas froze, her expression twisting into outrage. “What did you just call me!?” She stomped closer, jabbing a finger at Lalemana’s smirking face. “Don’t look at me like that, you—”

Daisy stepped in before things could escalate. “Enough!” she said firmly, placing herself between the two. “Let’s just focus on clearing the tracks so we can leave.”

Papitas, still grumbling under her breath, moved on to the smaller boulders. By the time she finished, cheers erupted from the Axis followers.

“Praise be to Lady Aqua! Thank you miss!” a man shouted, sparking a wave of celebration.

A group of overenthusiastic believers rushed toward Papitas, surrounding her before hoisting her into the air. She flailed her arms and legs, her protests drowned out by their jubilant chanting.

“Put me down!” Papitas yelled, her voice rising to a panicked shriek as they tossed her upward. “I’m serious! Stop it! Stop! Ahhhh!”

“Praise the monkey!” a blond girl shouted, making no effort to hide her laughter.

Once everyone boarded the train again, the pilgrimage resumed. The train’s whistle blew, and the wheels began to turn, but Daisy couldn’t shake her unease. As she looked out the window, she noticed the Royal Guard commander glaring in their direction, his lips pressed into a thin line. The way his fingers drummed against the hilt of his sword made her stomach churn. Something about his frustration felt ominous.

Part 3

“I think there should be one around here,” That night, Daisy led the group through the night streets of Dristlyn, walking up through a particularly steep road.

Dristlyn sprawled across the base of a towering mountain, its streets weaving through the rolling hills like a chaotic tapestry. At night, the city glowed with a mix of lantern light and flickering magical bulbs, illuminating the lively streets where carriages rattled over uneven cobblestones, bicycles zipped past, and street vendors called out to potential customers. From nearly every vantage point, the massive stone carvings of the Axis and Eris church emblems loomed high above, carved directly into the mountain face and bathed in golden light. Their presence was impossible to ignore—one of many reminders that this was a city where faith ran deep, whether people liked it or not.

“I really don’t like that,” Papitas grumbled, glancing up at the twin emblems with clear distaste. The illuminated symbols of both churches sat side by side. “The further we get from the Axis, the better…!” She started to walk faster, but then suddenly stopped, looking at Daisy with wide eyes. “Wait. Don’t tell me you—?”

Daisy chuckled. “No, no, Miss Papitas. But this city is historically significant for the Axis Church, which is why the pilgrimage passes through here. That Eris Church carving has been here since this was just a tiny village barely anyone knew about. According to the story, back when Lady Serena was just a priest apprentice in the Axis Church, she lived here for some time. And because of how important she is to them, the Axis… ‘requested’—for a lack of a better word—that their church get a monument as well.”

“Gotta say, you’re quite knowledgeable,” Papitas remarked, then smirked. “Not like the airhead over here.”

“Don’t you dare look down on me just because you keep winning that stupid card game, you monkey!” Lalemana, who had been lagging at the back of the group, immediately snapped to attention and pointed an accusing finger at Papitas.

“Stop calling me that!” While Papitas walked with her hands on the back of her head, she turned to face the irate Lalemana, “And it’s not my fault your feeble little brain can’t keep up with it. It’s clear why you need the Crimson Magic Clan’s well-known high intelligence to get in the nitty gritty of it.”

“High intelligence!? You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met! Who the heck wears sunglasses at night!? You nearly ran into half the light posts on the way here!”

“Whaaaaaaaat!?” Papitas shrieked, making several pedestrians turn their heads. “If you wanna see an idiot, just take that hand mirror you keep pulling out every five minutes!”

Before things could escalate into yet another fight, Daisy smoothly intervened. “Ah! Here we are. Let’s enjoy some of Dristlyn’s local cuisine.”

The two girls shot one last glare at each other before begrudgingly following Daisy around the corner. Then, as they rounded the bend, both of them instinctively jumped into each other’s arms in sheer terror.

A gigantic boar.

Not just any boar—this thing could swallow a person whole. It’s massive head seemingly welcoming everyone to some kind of restaurant.

“Please don’t be alarmed. This is what we came for.” Daisy’s calm voice was unsettling given the sheer size of the beast. “This is a Granbestia Boar. Its meat is the base for the region’s most famous dish: Roastark. I assure you it’s worth the trip.”

Lalemana and Papitas slowly detached themselves from each other, blushing as they awkwardly looked away.

“I trust your judgment, Daisy,” Lalemana muttered, coughing into her fist.

“I’m always open-minded about trying new food,” Papitas added hastily.

Daisy simply smiled and led them into the restaurant.

The restaurant was a lively, open-air eatery with wooden beams supporting a red-tiled roof, the scent of roasting meat and sizzling spices thick in the air. A group of musicians played cheerful tunes on guitars and drums in one corner, while waiters in loose white shirts and bright woven sashes carried massive plates stacked with food to hungry patrons.

After a brief wait, their food arrived.

A monstrous plate of steaming golden pork, crispy on the outside, tender and glistening on the inside, was placed in front of each of them. The Granbestia Boar was slow-roasted for hours, its skin crackling under a honey-glazed sauce. The dish was served with thick rice stuffed with vegetables, as well as fried plantains drizzled with spicy-sweet sauce. And on the side? A massive, frosted glass of soda, bubbling furiously.

“Uhm, Daisy?” Lalemana peeked over the plate that was almost as big as her torso. “I think this is way too much for all of us. Let alone each of us.”

“Oh, believe me, milady, once you taste it, it won’t be enough.” Daisy, uncharacteristically eager, was already pouring sauce over her food before taking a huge bite. “I’ve mishhed thish sho much—” she mumbled through a full mouth.

Lalemana and Papitas exchanged a look. Then, hesitantly, they each took a bite.

Their eyes widened.

The boar meat melted in their mouths, he rice was rich and savory, the plantains added the perfect contrast, and the soda fizzed delightfully against their tongues.

Silence. Then—

“Holy crap,” Lalemana mumbled, already reaching for another bite.

“This is divine,” Papitas said, shoveling food into her mouth like she was afraid it might vanish.

For the next several minutes, the only sounds were of furious chewing and the occasional clatter of utensils.

A while later.

“I’m full,” Lalemana finally leaned back, patting her stomach. “I think this might be my second favorite food, after ramen.”

“I agree,” Papitas burped unceremoniously, chunks of food somehow making their way into her hair. “On both. This was amazing, but ramen is king.”

“I’m glad you liked it, it’s a shame that this can only be cooked here,” Daisy picked her teeth with a toothpick. While some food remained in both Lalemana and Papitas’ plates, hers was completely empty.

Both raised their eyebrows, intrigued.

“Ah, well, you see, the Granbestia Boar is immune to magic, so the meat can’t be stored. That boar was hunted just today, and its meat goes bad in less than a day, not something—” Daisy suddenly let out a loud burp. “Oh, please excuse me!” she quickly apologized, blushing heavily. “Not something that can be frozen or teleported, it must be consumed on the spot.”

“Ohhhhh…” both girls echoed.

“The boars mostly feed on the Matsutake mushrooms that grow in this area, and the combination of both makes for a dish that’s not only delicious but also packed with experience points. It’s not unusual for hunters to wait for the boars and mushrooms to fight and then take them both down when they’re weakened. But it’s a dangerous job—Dristlyn has one of the biggest hunters’ guilds in the country because of it.”

Lalemana cleaned her mouth. “Sounds like an interesting place. Shame we can’t stay here for long, seems like there’s plenty to do—”

“Oh, there’s plenty to do,” Daisy’s eyes lit up. “For one, there’s the Forest of Resting just east of here. A massive fire rock deep in the woods naturally heats the ponds and waterfalls, so people come to soak and relax. I used to go there with my friends after school to cool off.”

Papitas, surprisingly, seemed interested. “A naturally heated pond? Huh, that actually sounds nice.”

“And if you like cats,” Daisy continued excitedly, “the famous Whisker Park is a must-visit. The entire park is home to hundreds of wandering cats, and local artists have made dozens of cat statues throughout. People bring food, play with them, and even adopt strays. You’d love it, milady.”

Lalemana huffed. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daisy ignored her and kept going. “Up near the Axis and Eris monuments is the Hill of the Two Churches. You get a spectacular view of the entire city from there, especially at night. It’s a famous spot for lovers, so… maybe not ideal for us, haha.”

Papitas clicked her tongue. “I don’t like the sound of that place already.”

“Well, if historical sites are more your thing, there are plenty of ancient churches scattered around the city, some dating back centuries. There’s even one that belonged to a forgotten goddess. No one worships there anymore, but it’s maintained as a heritage site.”

“And if you prefer something modern,” Daisy added, “there’s this new thing people are trying out… a Shopping Mall. A bunch of stores gathered inside a single building, selling all kinds of goods, food, and clothes. It’s getting pretty popular…”

Papitas and Lalemana sat there, half in awe and half overwhelmed, as Daisy kept rattling off facts about her hometown. It was impressive, really, how much she loves this place—especially considering how little the two of them knew about their own native cities.

“…so yes, there’s plenty to do here,” Daisy finally wrapped up after what felt like an eternity.

“Um, thank you, Daisy,” Lalemana said, scratching her cheek. “I-I’d like to see some of the, um, dozens of places you just told us about.” She turned to Papitas for backup—only to find her lightly snoring.

Lalemana pouted. “So, how about we get going? It’s been a while, and we can’t miss the train—”

“Hold on!” Papitas suddenly snapped awake, stretching with a loud yawn. “Now that you’re all talkative, there’s something I wanna know. But first.” She waved to a waitress. “One more soda. Extra cold.” Then, turning to Daisy, she pointed. “And second—what’s your deal? How does a noble end up as the bodyguard of another noble?”

Daisy let out a sigh and looked away.

“You monkey!” Lalemana hissed at Papitas before quickly turning back to Daisy. “It’s fine, you needn’t say anything you don’t want to.”

Daisy gave a tired chuckle. “It’s fine, milady. I know everything about you and your family, so it’s only fair. Besides…” she rubbed her eyes, clearly struggling to stay awake, “…I’m sure you’ve been wondering the same thing.”

When the waitress arrived, Daisy asked for something with plenty of caffeine and sugar. As she took the first sip, she exhaled deeply, like she was bracing herself.

“The answer’s simple: money.” She swirled the drink in her hands. “Despite being noble, my family isn’t wealthy. In fact, we’ve been losing status for generations. At this rate, we’re barely even considered nobility.”

Lalemana and Papitas leaned in.

“My family used to own a big chunk of the land around here, back when the city was smaller. We controlled most of the boar meat and mushroom trade. But, well…” Daisy took a deep breath. “We made a mistake. Sold off land in all the wrong places. One of them had a natural water source, and the people who bought it built over it. The land dried up. The mushrooms disappeared. The boars followed. And just like that, we lost everything that made our land valuable.”

She took another gulp of her drink, rubbing her temples. “Since then, my family’s just been trying to stay afloat. Selling off more and more land. Now we own less than an acre—half of it’s rented out. My parents do what they can. My mother works as a teacher. My father tends to the rented fields. And, well…” Daisy let out a tired chuckle. “They also take on the extremely dangerous work of growing mangos.”

Mangos? Lalemana has heard of them but never eaten one. The fruit takes years to ripen and is notoriously difficult to grow and handle. They’re also called bomb fruits for good reason—if shaken too much, they explode with enough force to take out an entire city block. So dangerous that even the Royal Army refuses to weaponize them. Rare, expensive, and supposedly so delicious that the wealthiest nobles are willing to risk their lives for a taste.

“Contrary to what you’d think, finding buyers is tough. Most people don’t want to risk keeping a fruit that could, blow up their house.” Daisy rubbed her forehead. “And since they take so long to grow, I’ve only ever seen one ripen in my entire life. When I was a little girl.”

Papitas took a sip of her drink. “Alright, that’s a wild story. But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“Shh! Monkey!” Lalemana hissed, clearly absorbed.

Daisy sighed, stretching her arms. “Well… after graduating, I wanted to help my family. My original class is Dancer, so I thought maybe I could make it big as an idol or something. Some friends and I started a group. We performed at the Hunters’ Guild, where I also worked as a waitress.”

She stifled a yawn but kept talking.

“One night, a fight broke out between some drunk soldiers passing through. I managed to subdue them before things got ugly. Their commander was there and, instead of scolding me, she pulled me aside. Told me she was impressed.” Daisy let out a small laugh. “Said I should join the Royal Army.”

She took another big gulp of her drink. Her eyelids were drooping now.

“I didn’t think much of it at first. But not long after, there was a bad drought. One of the mango trees died. Most of the crops did too. Money got even tighter. And the worst part? We were at risk of losing our noble status. No money, no nobility. And if we lost that, my parents would lose connections to the few rich nobles who do buy our mangos.”

Lalemana leaned in, listening intently.

“And…” Daisy looked away, “There was also my little brothers’ tuition. Nobles have to study in private schools, and the only one in this city is very expensive.”

“So, you joined the army for them,” Lalemana said softly.

Daisy nodded. “My parents didn’t want me to, but they knew it was the best option. My mom—her class is FeatherSword—trained me herself before I left. She’s from the kingdoms far west.” She gave a sleepy smile. “A real tough teacher.”

She let out a deep breath. “After passing the preliminary tests, I trained in Arcanletia for six months and earned the SwordDancer advanced class. Then I was assigned to the Fifth Royal Vanguard Battalion.” Her voice carried a hint of pride despite how tired she was. “We specialized in fast, close-range combat. Always in the thick of it.”

Lalemana and Papitas listened in silence.

“Most nobles join the Royal Army for prestige, but their families pull strings to keep them safe. My father tried. Didn’t work. Two months in, I was on the frontlines.”

She blinked slowly, her head tilting slightly. “We were sent to guard a village near the front. It was next to a freshwater basin. If the Demon Queen’s Army poisoned it, a million people would lose clean water. We fought off wave after wave of monsters. But just defending wasn’t enough—we had to go on the offensive.”

Daisy exhaled. “Long story short… my squad was part of the attack. I saved a few of my comrades. Landed the final blow on the enemy commander. Forced them to retreat.”

“Ohhhhhh,” both girls echoed, their eyes sparkling.

Neither of them noticed that Daisy had propped her chin on her hand, her eyes barely open.

“When I got back to Arcanletia, they offered me a spot in the Royal Guard. My parents insisted I take it. Said it’d be safer. And, well, the pay was good.” She gave a sleepy chuckle. “I do miss my brothers-in-arms. But my family’s doing well now, so that’s a weight off my shoulders. I don’t need that much money as Lady Marcella covers most of my expenses, so I sent most of my pay to them.”

“You must really miss them, Daisy,” Lalemana said. “It’s a shame we couldn’t visit.”

Daisy smiled faintly. “It’s fine, milady. I write to my friends and family every day. My mom told me that at dinner, they all gather to read my letters—The Daily Daisy Dispatch, they call it.” She reached into her coat and pulled out a worn leather wallet. Inside, tucked carefully behind a few crumpled bills, was a photograph.

“This is my father and mother,” she said, holding it up for them to see. The image was slightly faded, but the smiles were clear. A tall, weathered man stood beside a woman with kind, slanted eyes, both dressed in simple but well-kept clothes. In front of them, two boys grinned mischievously, one making a peace sign behind the other’s head. “And these are my little brothers—Aster and Basil.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms.

“A war hero turned babysitter,” Papitas said, standing to stretch. “Cool story, lame ending.”

Lalemana bristled. “Daisy is not babysitting me, monkey! I can protect myself just fine!”

“Sure, sure, princess. As long as you don’t mess up your hair, right?”

Lalemana growled. “I should’ve made you drop one of those boulders on yourself—”

Papitas put a finger to her lips, shushing her.

“Don’t you dare shush me—!”

Papitas grabbed her by the head and turned her toward Daisy.

She was fast asleep.

The two girls exchanged glances and nodded in silent agreement.

Rushing back through the night streets of Dristlyn, Lalemana lead the way as Papitas carried the fast asleep Daisy on her back.

“Soooo…” Papitas asked, “You do know how to get back to the train, right?”

Part 4

“Ugh,” Papitas groaned, flopping onto the roof of the train. “How long is this going to taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!?”

The station at Illyora was pure chaos. Hundreds—no, thousands—of Axis believers crowded every available space. Most of the trains that departed Arcanletia days ago already arrived, waiting for the final one carrying the so-called leader of this mess.

Beyond the city limits, preparations for the second leg of the pilgrimage were in full swing. Carriages stretched as far as the eye could see, horses restless in their harnesses.

“Could you stop screaming, monkey?” Lalemana snapped, seated beside her and doing her best to keep her hair in place against the humid air. “You’re not making this wait any easier.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I am just as mad as you and will personally ensure Arthur gets an earful! Just look at this!” She gestured toward the sea of noisy pilgrims. “Where are the Royal Guard? The Royal Army? This pilgrimage was supposed to be heavily guarded, and yet I barely see anyone in armor!”

“I share your frustration, milady.” Daisy approached, carrying cold drinks in hand. “Many of my colleagues abandoned the pilgrimage at our previous stops, claiming they were reassigned to ‘urgent duty.’” She made air quotes. “There should be a full garrison of the Royal Army here, alongside a Royal Guard squadron—at least, that’s what the king ordered. Instead, there’s maybe a few dozen soldiers. Every single one of them is an Axis believer.”

“There it is!” A priest’s voice rang out from the edge of the platform.

A cloud of steam billowed as the final train pulled into the station. A deafening cheer erupted from the gathered Axis faithful, the crowd parting in anticipation.

The moment the train stopped, passengers began pouring out, station workers scrambling to unload luggage. The reunion of friends and family played out across the platform, but Lalemana’s focus was on one man—

At the very end of the group, disheveled, sweat-soaked, and looking half-dead, Arthur emerged. He lifted his eyes to the sky and muttered a solemn prayer.

“By the graces of Lady Aqua, we have arrived at our destination. And in her name, may we—”

“Father Arthur! You’re finally here!” A nun rushed forward, followed closely by several more priests and sisters.

“Shhhhhhh!” Arthur placed a single finger against her lips. “Please, sister. First, we must thank Lady Aqua.”

“B-but—!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!” He struck a dramatic pose, his eyes closed in feigned reverence. The gathered clergy stared, but others weren’t so patient. Nobles, merchants, and what few soldiers remained began crowding around him.

Arthur coughed into his fist. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, we ran into some unforeseen obstacles! The rainy season seems to be arriving earlier and most of our guards abandoned us! But! Lady Aqua has blessed us with safe passage! So before we proceed, let us all take a five-minute—no, twenty-minute—prayer break.”

“ARTHUR!”

A furious voice cut through the crowd.

“Oh, hi.” Arthur’s smile twitched as Lalemana stormed toward him. “I heard you guys had some goblin problems—”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” Lalemana grabbed him by the collar. “What is this mess!? Wasn’t this supposed to be a highly secured, important pilgrimage? It’s worse than a circus! How did you mess this up so badly!?”

Arthur struggled against her grip. “Hey, this isn’t my fault! There weren’t any Royal Guard or Royal Army on my train! I have no idea why they left! I—I bet it’s her fault!” He pointed wildly—at Daisy.

“Huh!?” Daisy’s eyes twitched.

“Yeah! I bet she did something!” Arthur waved his arms, then turned to a noblewoman. “Or maybe she bribed the guards to leave! Or—wait!—he did it!” He pointed at a random priest. “Or—hang on!—it was them!” He gestured at an entire group of merchants. “Actually, you all look suspicious—”

A ripple of outrage spread through the crowd as every person he blamed turned against him.

“Is this guy supposed to be in charge?” Papitas asked, appearing behind Daisy, taking a long sip from her drink.

Arthur scoffed. “And who’s this arrogant little brat? Your kid sister or something?” He looked at Lalemana. “Yeah, I see the resemblance. Neither of you are my type.”

Lalemana and Papitas twitched in unison.

“This man is annoying me,” Papitas said, cracking her knuckles. “Can I punch him?”

“Yes!” the crowd answered in unison.

“Oh, come on, lighten up! I was just messin’ around—”

THWACK!

Arthur collapsed like a sack of potatoes, clutching his liver.

Later that day.

The leaders of the pilgrimage gathered for a meeting inside the Axis Church’s makeshift headquarters—formerly a restaurant, now forcibly ‘repurposed’ over the loud objections of its owner.

“Alright, people, listen up,” Arthur declared, pacing in front of a large map pinned to the wall. Even after a couple of priests healed him after Papitas’ attack, he still had trouble walking. “I know that train ride was exhausting, but we don’t have time to waste. The real challenge of our pilgrimage begins now.”

The map behind him showed the southeastern region of the Kingdom of Belzerg. Ilyora sat near the top, their destination—Verdant Heights—lay further south, and to the west, dangerously close, were the frontlines. A large portion of the western map was labeled [Captured Territory].

Arthur gestured toward the window. “See those mountains?” In the distance, two towering peaks stood sharp against the sky. “Verdant Heights is just beyond them, past the Storm Mountains.”

He let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

“Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, here’s the problem—those peaks are usually buried under storm clouds. For ten months of the year, this region is battered by relentless rain, thanks to the Great Spirit of the Storm. She lingers in this area, bringing downpours that make travel nearly impossible.”

He tapped the map near the mountains.

“But every year, when the Great Spirit of Summer moves in, the intense heat forces the Storm Spirit northeastward. That’s what triggers the rainy season on the coasts and sends storms toward neighboring countries as the spirit makes it way towards the Crimson Magic Islands.”

“Yeah! Crimson Magic Islands!” a voice from the crowd cheered.

Arthur blinked. “Uh… right.” He cleared his throat and pressed on, “Normally, spirits like these wander unchecked, and there’s little we can do about them. But the Crimson Magic Clan doesn’t do ‘unchecked.’ Every year, they blast the Storm Spirit to oblivion before it reaches their shores.”

“A weakling spirit has nothing against us!” the same voice rang out.

“Shut up, monkey!” someone else shot back.

Arthur exhaled sharply. “Anyway.” His tone made it clear he would tolerate no more interruptions. “The problem is, once the spirit gets driven back, she returns here in a foul mood. But the Great Spirit of Summer isn’t keen on leaving just yet, so the two clash. The result? Weeks of unbearable heat and torrential rain—what locals call the Monsoon Duel.”

He gestured at the map’s southern half. “During this time, everything between Ilyora and Verdant Heights turns into an unlivable swamp. Even the monsters and wildlife flee. Travel is impossible. And when the Great Spirit of Summer finally moves on, the Storm Spirit settles in again… and the cycle repeats.”

Arthur let that hang in the air for a moment, then leaned forward. “This is why the pilgrimage has to happen now. We have a narrow window before the Storm Spirit returns. And according to the Axis Church’s information network, she’s moving faster than expected. We have less than three weeks.”

He pointed at Verdant Heights. “Under ideal conditions, it should take us about five days to reach our destination. That means we’re leaving in a few hours. Our first stop will be Swanson, a small trading post just south of here. We should reach it by sunset.” He tapped a smaller dot on the map. “That’ll be our last chance for supplies before we head into the mountains.”

“In order to make sure that we’re back here before the Great Spirit of the Storm returns, we’ll spend only five days at Verdant Heights before making our way back, so all and all we should be back here in just over a couple of weeks. It’ll be a tight schedule, but I’m sure that should give enough time for everyone to give their offering to the Sapphire Spirit.”

He wiped the sweat off his forehead. Even now, the air was thick with humidity. “If you read the pamphlet, you know what to expect. If you haven’t, listen up—and pass this information along.”

Arthur’s expression turned serious. “Beyond Swanson, we’re on our own. The forest through the mountains will be brutally hot, humid, and with monsters. There’s also the risk of black fever—” he paused, watching for reactions, “—a disease that spreads through insect bites. It starts with chills and headaches, and if untreated, can be fatal. So if you can’t handle the trip to Swanson, don’t even think about continuing.”

He let that warning settle before continuing.

“Our supplies are limited. Our manpower is even more limited. The Axis Church staff can use Teleport magic to send sick or injured people back to Ilyora, but we can only do that so many times, there’s also the trip back to consider.”

He looked over the crowd. “And then there’s the Demon Queen’s Army.” A hush fell over the room. “We’re far from the frontlines, but lately, her forces have been getting more aggressive. Scouts have been spotted further south. Verdant Heights should be safe—the presence of the Sapphire Spirit keeps monsters and demons at bay—but we’re not taking any chances.”

Arthur scanned the faces in the room. Most were seasoned pilgrims who had made this journey before, but even they looked uneasy.

“Now that I think about it, I probably should’ve mentioned all this back in Arcanletia,” he muttered under his breath. “Oh well.”

With a practiced motion, he flipped the map over, revealing a more detailed view of Verdant Heights.

“The town itself is small—barely a thousand people. There aren’t enough inns for all of us, so we’ll set up camp in the main plaza and on the outskirts.” His hand traced a large dark area west of the town. “And here… is the Veilbind Forest.”

A noticeable shift ran through the crowd.

“This is one of the most dangerous places in the country,” Arthur said flatly. “This place isn’t just a forest—it’s a labyrinth. The moment you step inside, the layout shifts. No two people see the same path. The deeper you go, the more it changes. The few people who have escaped it spent years trapped there.”

He paused, then added, “To put it simply: it’s a living dungeon. Don’t go near it.”

A few murmurs spread through the group, but Arthur didn’t let them grow.

“Unfortunately, our main objective is right at the edge of this forest.” He pointed to a star marking the Shrine of the Sapphire Spirit. “This is the only place where the Sapphire Spirit is known to appear. The shrine itself is safe—but do not stray from the path.”

His gaze hardened. “Once you get there, place your offerings—high-grade alcohol and food—and ask for the spirit’s blessing. If all goes well, it'll cast some powerful magic on you. This spirit is a manifestation of Lady Aqua’s will in this world, so make sure to grateful!”

He straightened up. “I know you probably have questions, but I’m not answering any. Try to rest as much as you can, we’ll leave shortly.”

Before anyone could protest, Arthur turned on his heel and made a beeline for the back of the shop—just as dozens of Axis believers surged forward to bombard him with inquiries.

“Ahhhhhh!” Lalemana let out a roar of frustration.

“Please settle down, milady!” Daisy pleaded, trying to keep her calm. The group was making their way toward their carriage, along with hundreds of Axis believers. While Lalemana seethed, Papitas was the exact opposite.

“I don’t get why everyone’s so frustrated. This is what an adventure should be like!” she said, shadowboxing. “Things aren’t supposed to be easy! Victory is hard-earned! I sure hope we run into some monsters so I can fight them!”

“I think this is our carriage,” Daisy said, pointing to what might as well have been a heavily armored tank—a massive, reinforced carriage drawn by four sturdy draft, armored horses. Thick iron plates reinforced its wooden frame, and heavy metal shutters covered what little window space it had. The door looked sturdy enough to withstand a siege.

“You must be Lady Arlenfelt,” a man called out as he dismounted from the driver’s seat. “Yeah, this one’s for you and your ‘cargo,’” he said, air-quoting the word. “The Royal Guard hired me to make sure you had the most secure transport available. Please take good care of it, have a nice trip.” Without another word, he turned and walked off.

“Well, it certainly looks secure,” Daisy murmured, giving the carriage’s exterior a few light taps. The thick walls barely made a sound. However, when she opened the door, her expression immediately shifted.

With no windows for ventilation, the velvet-lined interior was like an oven in the sweltering heat. Just cracking the door open let out a blast of stifling air. The seats, upholstered in plush crimson fabric, looked luxurious, and a small chandelier hung from the ceiling, but none of that mattered when it felt like a furnace inside.

“I call shotgun!” Papitas shot her hand up.

“As if, monkey!” Lalemana snapped. “Daisy is coming with me. You’re a stowaway—you go with the luggage inside!”

“Whaaaaaaaat!?” Papitas shrieked at ear-splitting volume. “What if monsters attack us!? You need someone strong up front to fight right away! You stay inside and make sure your hair stays put, princess!”

“Enough!” Daisy cut in before the argument escalated. “You’ll both go inside where you’ll be safe. I have an important job for you: make sure the offerings all arrive intact. Milady, you can use magic—cast some freezing spells to keep yourselves cool. I’m sure an Archwizard like Miss Papitas must know a few cooling spells too.”

“Uh, ah. Yeah, totally…” Papitas mumbled, looking away.

“Hey!” a familiar voice called out. Arthur approached, flanked by a young nun and a man hauling a cart piled with luggage. “Here are our MVPs. You ready for the trip—?”

The moment Papitas glared at him, Arthur instinctively ducked behind the nun. “Make sure you keep that girl away from me!”

“Settle down, Arthur,” Lalemana scoffed. “As long as you don’t annoy me, I’ll keep the monkey here from attacking you.”

Papitas’ eye twitched.

“Well, I’ve got some news for you,” Arthur continued, ignoring them. “First, here’s your stuff.” The man with the luggage cart silently began loading everything into the sweltering carriage.

Lalemana watched carefully, making sure the chest containing the bottle from the king—as well as the ones her mother had given her were safely stowed.

“And also, her.” Arthur gestured to the nun. “This is Sister Alondra, a very talented healer from the city’s church. Since you’re so gosh-darn important—though no one will tell me why—she’ll be joining you in case you need healing or whatever.”

“I was going to personally assist you,” Arthur muttered, shooting a look at Daisy, “but someone thoroughly rejected that idea,” he placed his hand on his chest, feigning heartache.

“G-good afternoon!” the nun suddenly shouted, her voice far louder than necessary.

She stood a head shorter than Arthur, only slightly taller than Papitas. Her large, curly hair framed a delicate, pretty face, though her nun’s attire covered nearly everything else.

“M-m-my name is Alondra Stacy! I-I-I’ll heal you if needed! But if you don’t need healing, that’s fine too!”

Everyone flinched and covered their ears.

“Ahhhhh! Make her stop!” Papitas screamed, making the sheepish nun flinch.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, rubbing one ear. “She may not look like much, but she’s capable. I’m sure she’ll keep you safe.” Then, his tone turned serious. “Remember what I said earlier—if by Swanson you don’t feel capable, then go home—”

“I’m not giving up. I’m seeing that spirit.” Lalemana’s voice was so cold that it felt like the very air around them had frozen.

Arthur, rather than looking surprised, smirked in approval.

“Anyway, I’ll mostly be staying toward the back of the pilgrimage, making sure things go smoothly. But I’ll be making rounds to check on everyone, so I’ll see you now and then.” He waved a hand. “You can depend on Sister Alondra. See ya.”

Almost on cue, the carriages at the front began moving.

“Let’s go then,” Daisy said. “Milady, Miss Papitas, please head inside. I’ll be handling the reins with Sister Alondra. If you need anything, knock.”

“But Daisyyyyyyyyyy!” Lalemana whined. “You can’t force me to spend five days locked up with this monkey!”

“No buts, milady. You’ll be safest inside.” She motioned toward the carriage. After some grumbling, Lalemana reluctantly climbed in. Papitas, just as irritated, followed without a word.

“Let’s go, Sister Alondra.” Daisy helped the nun up to the driver’s bench before giving the reins a gentle flick, urging the horses into motion.

Part 5

“You’re not the talkative type, huh?” Daisy broke the silence, wiping sweat from her brow.

It had been a couple of hours since they left Ilyora, the city now long out of sight. So far, the unusually sheepish Axis nun hadn’t uttered a single word. Lalemana and Papitas, on the other hand, had complained plenty. Right now, they were arguing inside the carriage, but Daisy had long since learned how to tune them out.

The dirt road was slowly turning into mud as the humidity grew stronger the closer they got to the Storm Mountains. With the sun hanging low in the western sky, they had a few more hours to go before reaching Swanson.

“Um, I’m not very talkative. I apologize,” Sister Alondra replied, looking down. She’d been avoiding eye contact the whole time.

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Daisy gave the reins a flick, prompting a fresh round of bickering from the carriage behind her. “I grew up in Dristlyn and spent a lot of time in Arcanletia, so I’m well accustomed to the Axis Church. And, well, you’re the most reserved member I’ve ever met. You haven’t even tried to convert me yet.”

“Oh, um. I guess that’s true. I’m… a bit different from my brothers and sisters.” Sister Alondra’s speech softened, losing some of its formality.

Daisy glanced at her. “Sister, is this your first pilgrimage? Do you know what we might run into?”

“No, no, I’ve done this several times,” Alondra puffed her chest proudly. “I manage the Axis Church branch in Ilyora, so they’ve requested my assistance for years now. Father Arthur exaggerated a bit to make sure people take this seriously, but we should still be careful. Right now, most monsters and animals are probably fleeing before the Great Spirit of the Storm returns, so we shouldn’t run into too many.”

Daisy gave a slow nod. Alondra had been watching her closely, clearly waiting for a response.

“Moon-kissed Crocodiles and Komodo Assassins are our biggest concern, but the former only get aggressive during a full moon, and the latter aren’t too bad as long as we have adventurers or thieves with Enemy Detection skills. Some monkeys might try to steal our belongings, but otherwise, they won’t harm us. Really, our biggest problem will be mosquitoes. Black fever can be fatal, and we only have so much medicine. Healing magic doesn’t work on diseases, after all.”

“Hmm?” Daisy perked up, interested.

“Ah, don’t you know? Diseases are caused by teeny-tiny organisms called ‘viruses.’ Healing magic just enhances the body’s natural healing ability, but if you cast it on a sick person, you might power up the virus too, making things worse. If someone gets sick and we can’t cure them or teleport them away, our best bet is to take them to the Sapphire Spirit. Its holy magic—beyond even the best Archpriests—is the only thing that can cure diseases. I can attest to that.” Sister Alondra’s cheerful tone turned serious.

Daisy hesitated, unsure if she should press further. A sudden screech from inside the carriage made the decision for her—anything to distract herself from whatever was happening back there.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you mean by that?”

Sister Alondra remained silent for a moment, then averted her gaze again. “It was my father,” she admitted quietly. “He fell sick—a very strong disease. This was seven years ago. Not knowing where else to turn, I sought help from the Axis Church. At the time, there was only a tiny church here, but they told me to take him on the pilgrimage. He got so ill on the way that I had to push him in a wheelchair just to reach the spirit. I wasn’t sure it would work—I could only afford very cheap wine—but the spirit graciously healed him. To the point that he rode a horse on the way back!” She brightened up as she spoke, her voice gaining warmth. “That’s why I joined the Axis Church. I wanted to give back somehow, to help others the way they helped me.”

“That’s very noble of you. Though, you know, you could’ve helped people without joining the Axis Church.”

“Hahaha, many people have told me that.” Sister Alondra chuckled. “It’s true, I didn’t really know what I was getting into, and I probably don’t believe in… oh, maybe 90% of the church’s teachings. But I mostly do it to help people. My, uh, more diligent work ethic compared to my peers got me promoted quickly. I may be a nun, but I run the church in Ilyora and use most of our resources to help those in need.”

She smiled. “Lady Aqua teaches us to do whatever we want, and what I want is to help others. So in a way, I’m a devout believer, haha. Besides, if the Sapphire Spirit really is a manifestation of her will, then she does more for this world than Eris does.”

She spat after saying Eris’ name, something Daisy definitely noticed. Seems she’s more into the Axis Church than she thinks, Daisy mused.

Their conversation continued amiably as they got to know each other. As they were safely positioned in the middle of the pilgrimage, not much happened along the way, and they arrived at Swanson after nightfall.

When Daisy opened the carriage door, it was like stepping into a sauna. A thick cloud of steam billowed out as soon as she unlocked it.

“Ahhhhh! Give me some water!” Papitas immediately bolted, her clothes soaked in sweat, her usually wild hair hanging wet and limp.

“Wait, Miss Papitas!” Daisy moved to follow, only for a ghostly pale Lalemana to collapse onto her. “Milady!?”

“That… monkey…” Lalemana’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “…refused to… use her… magic… I’m exhausted…”

“Sister Alondra, please look after milady! She suffers from mana leakage!” Daisy carefully laid Lalemana down. “I’ll go get Miss Papitas!”

Later that night…

The group gathered for dinner around a large campfire. Dozens of similar fires dotted the outskirts of Swanson, as the various carriages clustered together. Papitas tore ferociously into a lamb leg while Lalemana, still weak, was being spoon-fed by Sister Alondra.

“Damn monkey!” Lalemana growled, her movements sluggish. “Why were you so against using some of your magic!?”

Papitas avoided eye contact, still chewing. “…Uh, I’m saving it for a truly important moment. I only know super-powerful spells—no beginner magic or whatever.”

“Grr—!” Lalemana was ready to start another fight when Daisy returned.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find anything to help with cooling in this city. It’s all woodworkers and blacksmiths. And, well, the locals don’t seem too happy about me working for the central government…”

“Ah, that’s just how folks are here,” Sister Alondra said. “They love their wood, love their meat, and hate the government. But they’re good, hardworking people.”

“How are you feeling, milady?” Daisy asked gently. “Please don’t push yourself too hard.”

“She’s still weak—used a lot of mana,” Sister Alondra answered for her. “I tried using Drain Mana to help, but my own isn’t high enough to fully heal her.”

“Monkey! Give me your mana!” Lalemana pointed accusingly, making Sister Alondra nearly drop the soup.

Papitas blinked, sauce dripping from her mouth. “And why should I share my precious Crimson Magic mana with you?”

“It’s your fault I’m like this!”

Daisy stepped in. “Miss Papitas, please help. I think we’d all be happier if milady was in a better mood.”

“…Ugh, fine.” Papitas scooted closer, still eating.

“Excuse me,” Sister Alondra said, placing a hand on both their necks. Papitas’ mana flowed through her into Lalemana.

“Wooooah!” Lalemana flared up almost immediately, color rushing back to her cheeks. Sister Alondra reacted the same way, quickly letting go of both girls. Papitas, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.

“I feel invincible! What the heck was that?” Lalemana bounced on her feet, buzzing with energy.

“2700 years of Archwizard ancestry,” Papitas said, lazily tossing aside a lamb bone, picked clean. “Barely felt it. So, where are we sleeping? Not in the carriage, right?”

“No, no. I’ll set up a tent. You must be exhausted,” Daisy said, already getting to work.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sister Alondra perked up, then clasped her hands and began chanting. A moment later, she stretched out her arms.

“Holy Barrier!”

A glowing magic circle spread from her feet, encircling the carriages gathered around the bonfire. A soft white light rose toward the night sky.

“That’ll keep us safe till morning. It repels undead monsters and will alert us if anything else approaches.”

As if on cue, similar barriers flickered to life at the other bonfires, cast by the Axis Priests.

“Try to rest while you can,” Sister Alondra winked. “Things will only get harder from here.”

Lalemana and Papitas exchanged glances. Their journey was just beginning.

The next morning.

They departed Swanson nearly as soon as the sun rose, with Daisy carefully placing the still-sleeping Lalemana and Papitas inside the carriage. The road became steeper as they neared the Storm Mountains, and the air grew thick with heat and humidity. Sister Alondra fanned herself relentlessly, while Daisy kept brushing her damp hair from her eyes.

The pilgrimage moved at a slow but steady pace as the muddy roads became more treacherous. The temperature continued to rise, and with the Great Spirit of Summer heating the rain-soaked earth, a thick mist engulfed the area, trapping them in stifling heat. What, according to Sister Alondra, locals call warm fog.

“Good morning!” Arthur's voice rang out from behind them, his hair as drenched as theirs. He rode a tall white horse, his priestly robe clinging to his chest. “Nice to see you’re still here! How was your first night?”

“Good morning, Arthur,” Daisy pushed her hair back once more. “It’s unbearably hot, but we’re managing.”

“That’s the spirit! Keep your eyes open—things will likely get rough. Sister Alondra, they’re in your hands!” He clicked his tongue and rode past them, continuing ahead.

“Father Arthur, wait!” Sister Alondra called after him, but he had already disappeared into the warm fog.

Daisy glanced at her. “Something wrong?”

Sister Alondra hesitated, then sighed. “Your group isn’t part of the Axis Church, and none of you seem unwell, so... why are you here? I was hoping Father Arthur would explain.”

Daisy wiped the sweat from her brow. “Unfortunately, I can’t answer that, and neither would Arthur. Let’s just say it’s a top-secret mission—”

“Are you here to capture the Sapphire Spirit?” Sister Alondra’s tone sharpened. “If so, you’re wasting your time. I’ve lost track of how many knights and mercenaries I’ve guided through the mountains for so-called ‘top-secret missions.’ It’s always the same—they're some kind of super elite team here to claim the spirit for the war against the Demon Queen, but they never make it past its protector. You should turn back now.”

Daisy met her gaze calmly. “I think you misunderstand. While it’s true we seek the spirit, we have no intention of using force. I can’t say more for now, but everything will make sense in due time.”

Sister Alondra remained unconvinced, looking away in frustration. Daisy chose not to press further.

“That being said,” she continued, “could you tell me more about the spirit’s protector?”

Sister Alondra exhaled sharply. “You knights are all the same. Always looking for a fight. The Sapphire Spirit blesses the people here, and yet you’re so eager to drag it into a war...” She trailed off, then muttered, “But we have a long journey ahead, so I might as well answer.”

She adjusted her grip on her fan before continuing. “I’ve guided many to the shrine, but I’ve never gotten a clear look at the protector. It’s some kind of shadow—an entity that moves at incredible speed, cutting down anyone who draws their sword. It’s strong too, more than capable of holding its own against several advanced classes at once.”

Daisy listened intently.

“The locals believe it’s a fallen angel atoning for past sins by guarding Lady Aqua’s holy presence, but who knows? It can’t be reasoned with—it attacks anything that even thinks of harming the spirit.”

Daisy made a mental note. Then milady and Miss Papitas' attitudes will definitely be a problem. I’ll have to talk to them later.

The climb grew steeper, Daisy focused on steadying the horses.

As the morning wore on, Sister Alondra cooled off, and their conversation turned to lighter topics—though they were frequently interrupted by loud voices from inside the carriage.

“It’s like a sauna out here, and we’re outside,” Sister Alondra muttered, tugging at her sweat-soaked habit, the fabric turning slightly translucent in places.

Daisy kept a hand on her forehead, holding her hair back. “I feel terrible for them, but there’s nothing I can do. I need to focus on keeping them safe. Also…” She swatted at the air. “I’ve been noticing more mosquitoes the deeper we go.”

“The heat actually helps with that,” Sister Alondra replied. “They can’t land on sweaty skin. Haha! But seriously, if you notice a rash or feel the slightest bit feverish, tell me right awa—”

A thunderous crash cut her off. The horses shrieked in terror as the ground quaked beneath them.

“What was that?!” Daisy tightened her grip on the reins.

“I have no idea—!” Another impact. This one even stronger. A deep, guttural roar echoed through the fog.

Loud banging erupted from inside the carriage. Daisy opened the small sliding hatch behind the driver's seat.

“What’s going on? That felt like an explosion!” Lalemana’s voice came through, along with a wave of steaming hot air.

“Is there a fight? I wanna fight! Let me out!” Papitas shoved Lalemana aside.

“You two stay inside!” Daisy ordered. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with—”

A sharp metallic clash rang through the fog, the unmistakable sound of steel meeting steel.

Sister Alondra straightened, projecting her voice so the surrounding carriages could hear. “Stay calm! We have plenty of mercenaries protecting the pilgrimage, many of them advanced classes. Hold the reins steady and be ready to move as soon as the road is clear!”

The sounds of battle continued in the distance, the warm fog concealing whatever was happening up ahead. Everyone held their breath. Daisy’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword.

“Let me out!” Papitas screamed, followed by another loud bang, this time coming from inside the carriage.

“Miss Papitas, please calm down!” Daisy barely managed to catch a glimpse of Papitas standing in front of the locked door, in a fighting stance, about to deliver another strike.

“FOCUS PUNCH!” With a powerful strike, the door was blasted off its hinges, flying through the forest like a cannon ball, the force of the impact echoing through the trees—right alongside the chaos of the battle in the distance.

Not just the door—the entire side of the carriage had been blasted open. The metal frame twisted and buckled as if a monster had broken out.

“Wait, monkey—!” Lalemana tried to grab Papitas, but the girl had already leaped from the carriage, sprinting ahead.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Papitas let out a battle cry as she charged toward the source of the commotion.

“Why won’t she listen!?” Daisy groaned, looking between Papitas and the gaping hole in the carriage, hesitation gripping her.

“Go after her! I’ll handle things here!” Sister Alondra urged. “She could get lost in the forest!”

With a reluctant nod, Daisy took off after Papitas. The sound of fighting grew louder as she ran—but then, suddenly, it stopped. The warm fog thinned, replaced by the acrid scent of smoke. Flickers of firelight danced through the trees. Then, at last, Daisy emerged into a clearing.

Papitas stood there, shoulders slumped, a deep frown on her face.

“Haa… haa… Miss Papitas, I finally caught up to you—” Daisy panted, slowing to a stop—then froze. The words caught in her throat.

A monstrous figure lay sprawled before them—a massive humanoid monster, covered in jagged blue scales, its sharp claws curled lifelessly into the dirt. In its massive hand, it clutched a tree trunk, seemingly as some sort of crude weapon.

“A gigantos…” Daisy whispered, instinctively grabbing onto Papitas’ sleeve.

“Not just one. Look.” Papitas pointed ahead.

The clearing was littered with bodies—more than a dozen gigantos lay strewn about, an entire pack of these massive creatures, all dead.

Driven by curiosity, the two girls cautiously moved forward. The fog was sparse here, revealing the dirt road beyond. Several carriages stood parked nearby, and a growing crowd of travelers and adventurers was approaching the battlefield.

“Please stand back, everyone!” a short-haired priestess called out, raising her hands to stop them. “We haven’t confirmed if all the monsters are truly dead!”

“Ugggggh! I wanted to fight them! I’m so stressed ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!” Papitas groaned, kicking the nearest fallen gigantos in the head. Even lying face-down, the monster towered over her.

“Miss Papitas, please be careful!” Daisy yelped, grabbing her by the back of her shirt. “These creatures are supposed to be incredibly dangerous—a single stomp could flatten an entire village!”

“They’re already dead! Just let me relieve my frustratioooooooooooooooon!” Papitas whined, struggling to break free.

Then both girls froze.

A single enormous eye snapped open, staring directly at them.

A chill ran down Daisy’s spine. She barely had time to react before the monster let out a deafening roar, the force of it sending both girls tumbling backward.

With its last remaining strength, the wounded gigantos lifted its makeshift club, ready to bring it crashing down upon them.

Daisy’s breath caught in her throat. She fumbled for her sword, but with Papitas on top of her, she couldn’t move fast enough—

“Raaaaaaaaah!”

A battle cry, louder than even the monster’s roar, split the air.

A massive figure came hurtling down from above, slamming a colossal warhammer onto the gigantos’ skull. The sheer force of the impact crushed the monster’s head into the ground, shaking the earth itself. The girls were thrown clear just as the tree trunk crashed to the side, missing them by inches.

As the dust settled, their rescuer came into view—a towering, armored warrior. His power armor gleamed, covering him almost entirely, save for his head, where a thick mane of white hair and a long beard framed his scarred face. One of his eyes was completely white, a deep scar running across it.

“Please, stay back, young ladies!” his deep voice carrying a heavy foreign accent, “These beasts can be quite dangerous.”

“U-um, sir,” Daisy stammered as she helped Papitas to her feet. “Could you tell us what happened here?”

“I vould like to know that myself, fräulein,” The man hopped down from the monster’s corpse, landing with a weighty thud. Daisy had to crane her neck upwards just to meet his gaze.

“These cursed ungeheuer appeared from nowhere and began attacking us,” he grumbled. “Bah! I have guarded Lady Aqua’s pilgrimage for decades, und zis is ze first time I have seen such creatures here.”

All around them, veteran adventurers checked the fallen monsters, priests tended to the wounded, and mages used water magic to extinguish the lingering fires.

“I had no idea gigantos were real…” Daisy murmured, stepping toward the now-definitely-dead monster. “I’ve only ever read about them in books.”

“Ja, me too! But zey were no match for ze mighty Wilhelm!” The old warrior flexed his arms, striking a series of exaggerated poses.

CRACK!

A sharp pop from his back made him freeze mid-pose. Slowly, he straightened up, rubbing his lower back with a sheepish chuckle. “Hrrm! But zis is troubling. Supposedly, these monsters roam alone, yet this pack attacked the pilgrimage like they were searching for something.”

“So… they’re not native to this area?” Daisy asked.

“No, they're not,” another voice answered.

Arthur arrived, surveying the battlefield with a critical eye. “Gigantos aren’t just monsters—they’re devils. You usually find them in the lower levels of dungeons controlled by powerful Dark Lords—”

“Or from gates of hell,” Papitas interjected. “I’ve seen them since I was little. They’re pretty common where I’m from, some people keep them as pets.”

“Was!?” Wilhelm’s eyes widened in shock. “Just where are you from, young lady?”

“The Cri—”

“She’s just confusing them with another monster! Please pay her no mind!” Daisy quickly clamped a hand over Papitas’ mouth. “W-with the monsters defeated, the pilgrimage will continue, r-right, Arthur?”

“Yeah, we can’t afford to waste time. The carriages are already moving again. Go wait over there for Sister Alondra—she’ll be coming to pick you up. I’ll stay behind to help with cleanup.”

Papitas took off ahead, but Daisy lingered, lowering her voice. “Arthur… this wasn’t just a coincidence, was it?”

“You think it’s the Demon Queen’s Army?” Arthur muttered, his eyes darkening. “Yeah. I thought the same when I heard about the gigantos. This isn’t the first attack on the pilgrimage, either. You guys must be really important, huh?”

As Daisy turned to leave, Arthur caught her wrist, leaning in to whisper one last warning.

“Sister Alondra knows Teleport. If things get really bad—get out.”

Daisy hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes, but nodded.

As their carriage rolled up, Sister Alondra reined in the horses, while Lalemana sat beside her, a pocket mirror in hand, desperately trying to comb her drenched hair.

The rest of the day passed without much incident. A few more monsters attacked, but nothing nearly as dangerous as the gigantos.

The pilgrimage pressed on.

Daisy remained on edge the entire time, her mind racing through the implications of Arthur’s warning and the gigantos’ attack. If he’s right, then we’re at great risk, she thought. If the Demon Queen somehow knows about milady and Miss Papitas—

“Lady Daisy!” Sister Alondra’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “The sun is about to set. It’s too dangerous to travel at night. Time to set up camp again. There should be a clearing ahead. Make sure to stick to the left side of the road—we don’t want to fall into that valley.”

For the past few hours, they had been traveling along the edge of a vast gorge, as the forest in between the Storm mountains is too risky, they instead travel around them. The valley’s depths are obscured by a thick cloud of warm fog.

“What’s up with that, anyway?” Papitas called from the roof of the battered carriage. Lalemana was inside, having used her newfound freedom to chat with Daisy during the ride. With the wall ruined and no way to repair it, Daisy gave up on keeping them inside.

“That’s the main source of most of the fog,” Sister Elora explained, sweeping her arm over the valley, its far side hidden behind drifting clouds. “For most of the year, this valley is a lake. The Great Spirit of Summer evaporates the water in this season, but the near-constant rain from the Great Spirit of the Storm keeps it flooded most of the year. Don’t be fooled—it’s deep. The fog hides the bottom, but in some places, it drops nearly a thousand meters.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Daisy said, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re right. It’s too risky to keep moving at night.”

“Over there! That’s the clearing.” Sister Elora pointed to their left, “We’ll rest here tonight.”

Daisy couldn’t sleep.

Too many things clawed at her mind—the gobbling attack from days ago, the gigantos. She lay in the tent, staring at the ceiling, her eyes wide open. Next to her, Papitas and Lalemana snored loudly. Sister Alondra, in contrast, slept soundlessly, her Axis Church emblem clutched in her hands.

They’re really not so different after all. She sat up, looking at the two girls she was supposed to protect. Needing space and silence, she slipped out of the tent.

The night was nearly pitch black, the only illumination coming from a handful of torchlights atop the carriages where night guards kept watch for monsters. Daisy has excellent night vision—perhaps an inheritance from her mother. Even through the thick, warm fog, the faint glow of the stars was enough for her to see. She moved as quietly as possible, pacing through the camp, hoping to clear her mind.

The Crimson Codex, milady and Miss Papitas’ role in the prophecy are supposed to be highly secretive. Not even I’m supposed to know.

Yet the Demon Queen seemingly does.

A chill crept down her spine. How?

We left Arcanletia in secret. Only Lady Marcella and the king know the full details. No one else should know we’re here. So how…?

Her brow furrowed. Something gnawed at her, something she had ignored before—pushed aside because it had seemed too absurd, too unlikely.

But then—

It clicked.

The Royal Guard. The Army. They conveniently left too, despite orders from the king, very few remain here now, all staunch Axis believers.

The attack by that goblin army days ago, the gigantos attack today. Monsters acting oddly and in areas they’re not common in—it can’t just be a coincidence.

Her breath hitched.

I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.

Her stomach twisted. Damn it! I should’ve realized sooner. How could I have let this happen?

I have to get them out of here. This is too risky. Milady will have to forgive me, but we’ll have to wait to get the Sapphire Spirit another ti—

A faint wailing sound interrupted her thoughts.

A woman’s cry.

Daisy stiffened. She wandered outside the carriage circle, deeper into the woods. The trees loomed around her, their outlines barely visible through the fog.

The wailing came again. A woman, somewhere nearby. In pain.

“Is somebody there?” Daisy called, hand on her sword’s hilt. “It’s dangerous out here! Hold on, I’m coming!”

She moved carefully, keeping the starlight in view so she could find her way back. The cries guided her forward. And then, just beyond the trees, she saw her.

A lone, tall woman crouched against a tree, sobbing. Her long, black hair veiled her face.

Daisy slowed her steps. “Are you hurt?”

No response. The woman kept wailing as though she hadn’t heard her.

Daisy hesitated, then stepped closer. “Come on, we need to return to the pilgrimage. I can’t help you on my own.”

Still no response. The woman’s body trembled, but she wouldn’t lift her face.

Daisy sighed and bent down, wrapping the woman’s right arm over her shoulders to help her up. The woman didn’t resist but kept her head turned away, her sobs growing louder with each step.

“Are your children missing?” Daisy tried again. “Don’t worry—I’ll get you help.”

The woman didn’t answer. She only wept harder, her cries rising to a near inhuman pitch.

Daisy gritted her teeth. The journey back felt longer than before. The woman was heavy—unnaturally so. Daisy was nearly stumbling by the time they reached the pilgrimage.

“Help! We have an emergency!” she gasped, nearly collapsing to her knees.

At once, tents rustled open. Several people rushed over, including some of the guards.

“What’s going on?” one of them asked, eyeing the woman warily.

Daisy caught her breath. “This woman—something happened to her—”

She stopped.

The wailing ceased the moment they entered the carriage circle.

Daisy turned her head, only to find the woman standing upright, completely still.

Her long hair still obscured her face.

“Hey lady, what’s wrong?” the mercenary asked, stepping closer.

Slowly, the woman lifted her hands, placing them on either side of her head.

And then, in one swift motion, she pulled her head off her shoulders.

The mercenary recoiled with a curse. Daisy barely had time to react before the body shuddered violently—

—and exploded.

The woman’s dress burst apart, dozens of severed heads erupting from beneath her robes, each trailing a long, tangled mass of entrails as they scattered in every direction.

Daisy barely had time to process what she was seeing. The air filled with the sound of shrieking, the heads twisting and writhing as they hovered in the air, their wide, grinning mouths dripping with blood. Their eyes snapped toward the nearest people.

Then, with unnatural speed, they lunged.

“It’s a swarm of penanggalan!” an archer screamed as he readied his weapon. The disembodied, ghastly heads let out piercing shrieks that sent shockwaves through the camp—waking even the most soundly sleeping tents as they desperately searched for fresh victims. The man who first approached the wailing woman now sported one of these hideous heads clinging to his neck.

Daisy unsheathed her sword, she'd never encountered this creature before. The penanggalan appeared as a floating head with ragged, pallid skin, bloodshot eyes that burned with malice, and long, writhing tendrils of entrails trailing behind it like grotesque ribbons.

Glancing back to their tent, she noted it was closed and still. Lalemana and Papitas should be still asleep. Determined to handle this before they could interfere, Daisy stepped forward.

In an instant, one of the penanggalan swooped at her. She quickly assumed a fighting stance and swung her blade—but the sword passed straight through the creature’s head, as if it were nothing more than a smoke.

“An undead monster!?” Daisy gasped, barely able to process the sight as she darted away.

Undead, reanimated beings that defied the natural order and seethed with hatred for the living, they’re notoriously impervious to physical attacks. Only magic, especially holy magic, can harm them. This realization left Daisy with no effective way to fight; as she attempted to stand, exhaustion overpowered her, and she could only watch helplessly as the penanggalan descended upon the pilgrims, their sharp fangs digging into unsuspecting necks.

“Ah! What’s going on here!?”

Sister Alondra erupted from the tent, her expression caught somewhere between fury and sheer indignation. Her sharp eyes darted around the battlefield, taking in the grotesque, floating heads with their slimy, trailing entrails. Her hands trembled—not with fear, but with unfiltered rage.

“Penanggalan!?” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “These damn undead dare attack Lady Aqua’s pilgrimage!?”

A bloodcurdling shriek cut through the air as one of the penanggalan hurled itself toward her, its jaw unhinging unnaturally wide, rows of needle-like teeth poised to rip into her throat.

Daisy tried to move to protect her, but her legs wouldn’t respond. But her body locked up, her muscles stiff as stone. She could only watch as the monster closed in—

“Holy Blow!”

A streak of light flashed past her.

Sister Alondra’s fist connected with the creature’s face with all the force of a comet. The moment her knuckles made impact, the pananggalan exploded into mist, its final, agonized scream fading into the night.

She straightened, exhaling deeply, before throwing her arms wide.

“AXIS BROTHERS AND SISTERS!” she roared. “THE LOWEST OF THE LOW—THE FILTHIEST OF FILTH, UNDEAD—DARE TO DEFILE LADY AQUA’S HOLY PILGRIMAGE!!”

For a second, there was silence. Then—

The entire camp erupted.

From tents, from carriages, from seemingly every shadow and hiding place, Axis priests and nuns poured into the battlefield, their eyes wild, their faces twisted in righteous, unholy delight. Some clutched prayer beads. Others brandished weapons. A few simply held out their hands, as if preparing to strangle the undead with their bare fingers.

“UNDEAD!?” someone shrieked.

“THE ABSOLUTE LOWEST OF THE LOW!” another howled.

“The Axis Church has only two commandments—”

“—DO AS YOU PLEASE—”

“—AND EXTERMINATE ALL UNDEAD!!!”

Did they sleep through the first attack? Or just ignore it? Daisy couldn't say.

Because the moment the Axis Church joined the battle, it became something else entirely.

“Turn Undead!”, “Exorcism!”, “Holy Blow!”

Wave after wave of holy magic blasted through the night, cutting through the penanggalan like divine artillery fire. The grotesque, floating heads wailed as they were purified into oblivion, their slimy entrails sizzling away under the onslaught. Some tried to flee—only for Axis priests to leap onto them mid-air, clinging to them like deranged zealots as they screamed purification magic into their rotting faces.

A penanggalan managed to grab one nun by the shoulders—only for her to grab it back, yanking its entrails like a rope and swinging it into the dirt.

Another undead tried to slip away, retreating into the darkness. A priest spotted it instantly.

“Ohhh no you don’t.”

With an ear-splitting battle cry, he tackled the penanggalan out of the air, dragging it to the ground and beating it to death with a giant pillow of his goddess.

Within moments, the remaining undead had seen enough.

With panicked shrieks, the surviving monsters scattered, fleeing in every direction, their slimy forms vanishing into the night. A handful of Axis priests chased after them, screaming obscenities.

Daisy swallowed.

It was hard to say who the real monsters were.

At one point, Sister Alondra advanced on a particularly large penanggalan that had already been reduced to half its form. “You! Filthy! Monster!” she roared, stomping on it repeatedly. The creature, barely able to move, let out weak, pitiful cries—almost as if it were begging for mercy from the deranged nun who was mercilessly torturing it.

Daisy’s vision grew hazy as she watched in disbelief.

“Ahahahahahaha!” Sister Alondra laughed maniacally, her voice echoing across the clearing. “I’ll send all of your kind straight to hell!” With arms spread wide, she began chanting, “Sacred Turn Undead!”

A large, glowing magic circle burst forth, launching searing light into the sky. One by one, the remaining undead monsters vanished with agonized shrieks until only a faint echo remained.

Within that cascade of white light, Daisy’s strength ebbed away—and she collapsed onto the ground.

Part 6

Daisy could hear the rustling of leaves and the creak of the carriage wheels. Her throat was sore, and her head throbbed with a pain that made the world spin uncontrollably.

“Ugh,” she murmured as she finally opened her eyes, the morning sun blinding her. Clutching her head with both hands, she felt as though it might explode.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” Sister Alondra said softly, placing a comforting hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “You’re still weak. Here—Heal!”

A flash of radiant light washed over Daisy, dulling the pain just enough for her to open her eyes fully. She found herself seated in the driver’s seat of the carriage, with Sister Alondra at the reins. The pilgrimage continued during her unconscious state, and now they were traveling along the valley road.

“What happened?” Daisy asked, gulping down a bottle of water as she brushed her hair from her eyes.

“Undead monsters drain your health simply by being near them—an entire swarm of penanggalan drained yours,” Sister Alondra explained gently. “I did all I could to heal you. You’re fine, but you’ll feel weak for a while. I must say, you’re pretty strong—anyone else would’ve been down for days.”

“The monsters—?” Daisy started, struggling to process the information.

“Penanggalan are unique in that they disguise themselves as humans to lure in victims. That’s why one managed to bypass my barrier when you tried to help it. But don’t worry—we took care of them, and we’ve healed the injured. Things have been very tough; we’re only on day two, and over a hundred people have already abandoned the pilgrimage.”

“Ah! Daisy, are you okay?” Lalemana suddenly appeared at the front of the carriage, her concerned eyes peering through the opening.

“I am, milady, thank you for your concern,” Daisy replied, though her vision was so blurred that Lalemana appeared like an abstract painting. “I’m glad to see you’re fine.”

“Of course we are—the nun used Sleep on us as soon as the battle sounds woke me up!” Papitas grumbled irritably from the back.

“When I woke up and saw you were gone, I had to make sure everyone was safe, I didn’t want the sunglasses girl to run away again,” Sister Alora added, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I tried to wake you before we continued, but the noble girl insisted you sleep.”

“Of course! Daisy has worked so hard; she must rest as much as possible!” Lalemana agreed.

“Thank you, milady, but my duty is to guard you—I must remain alert—ow!” Daisy winced, clutching her head as she turned to her right. The dizzying height of the valley made her stomach churn.

“Try to keep your eyes closed; you’ll be dizzy for a while,” Sister Alondra cast healing magic over her again, “And you two, go back inside the carriage and keep quiet! Your friend needs peace to heal faster. You’ve been arguing, very loudly, all morning!”

Lalemana pouted but obeyed, and Papitas simply gazed out the large opening on the side of the carriage. They exchanged looks of mutual annoyance.

Ugh, I feel like I’ve been repeatedly hit on the head—this is worse than any hangover, Daisy thought. There’s something important I need to do… but I can’t remember what. Clutching the side of the carriage, her vision slowly cleared.

In the far distance, she faintly heard the sound of something being shot. The noise grew louder, closer, until it seemed as if a cannonball flew overhead.

“Sister Alondra,” she called, turning toward the nun, “did you not hear that?”

“Hmm—?” came the puzzled reply. But before she could answer, the sound returned—a large projectile streaked between them and the carriage ahead, exploding violently in the forest.

Daisy sprang to her feet, her hand on the hilt of her sword, but the sudden movement sent her collapsing to her knees. She raised her head just in time to see another projectile hurtling straight for her.

And then, her vision turned black.

The impact tore through the front of the carriage with a deafening blast, obliterating the driver’s bench and ripping the reinforced coach apart, severing the reinforced steel box from the horses and sending the two in front flying into the forest.

The explosion rocked the carriage, tilting it dangerously toward the cliffside. For a terrifying second, it teetered on the edge—but before it could fall, another projectile slammed into the valley wall. The combined force sent a thunderous crack through the stone.

And then, everything gave way.

A chunk of the cliff crumbled, dragging the steel box—and its two passengers—down into the abyss below.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Blessings to this eccentric spirit!

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”

Papitas and Lalemana screamed in unison as the carriage tumbled off the cliff, spinning wildly in midair.

Inside, bags slammed into walls, luggage burst open, and both girls bounced around. Several bags shot out through the broken side of the carriage, disappearing into the foggy abyss.

“Hey, listen!” Papitas shouted as they crashed into one of the walls together. She grabbed Lalemana’s arm, steadying her. “We’ve been falling for a while now. This canyon’s huge. If we don’t slow down, we’re done for!”

“Then use your magic, monkey!” Lalemana cried back, “Why are you trying to shove this onto me!?”

“I’m not! J-just hear me out—!”

As she spoke, the carriage plunged into a thick cloud of warm fog. Everything went white.

“Once we’re through this cloud, aim for the ground and blast it with wind magic! That’ll slow us enough, I’ll take the rest of the fall!”

“Wha—? I-I can’t possibly—!”

“You can! I know you can!” Papitas voice was nearly lost to the howling wind. “You just have to trust me! I’ll catch it!”

“Wait! Monkey—!”

Papitas already shoved open what was left of the wall and crawled halfway out of the spinning wreck.

Inside the wreckage, Lalemana gritted her teeth. She fumbled for the manaflare, her hand trembling as she pulled it free.

Her vision blurred, was it nerves, the spin, or both?

No, no, no, no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

Her heart pounded.

This can’t end here. I have to reach the spirit. I must—

The cloud suddenly parted.

The forest floor rushed up to meet them.

“NOW! DO IT NOW!!” Papitas roared from outside.

Lalemana froze. The spinning made it nearly impossible to aim. Her breathing caught.

Don’t let your heart waver.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind.

No more hesitation.

“I—I’m doing it!!” she cried, “O Great Spirit of the Storm, lend me your power, GUST!!”

The manaflare’s chamber glowed bright green as the shot fired.

A burst of air detonated on the forest floor, trees whipping back violently as the carriage slowed mid-descent, bobbing momentarily like a balloon.

“Great work, princess!” Papitas called. “My turn!”

With the carriage still suspended, Papitas shifted forward and launched herself from the edge, landing hard, knees bent, arms out. Catching the full weight of the carriage with a grunt.

The whole thing crunched above her. She dropped it down beside her, then flopped into a sitting position, gasping for air.

Well, she thought, staring up at the fog above, this is a mess.

She couldn’t see the canyon’s top anymore. The warm fog completely hiding it.

And… I lost my sunglasses.

Her most sacred treasure, gone to the abyss.

Around her, the forest was alive with wet, heavy stillness. The clearing they landed in was ringed by towering trees, their trunks wide and moss-covered. Vines draped from the canopy high above, and the earth beneath her was thick with mud, soaked, sticky, squelching under any movement. The air was thick enough to chew.

“NO, NO, NO!!” Lalemana screamed from inside the carriage.

Papitas bolted upright, “What!? What’s wrong?! Are you okay—” she ducked, barely avoiding a flying bottle coming from her face, “Hey!!”

“This one’s broken too! No waaaaaaaaaay!!” Lalemana wailed as she tossed another bottle. Glass shards glittered across the wet ground.

“Geez, I thought you were hurt or something!”

“This is worse than being hurt! All the tributes are ruined!!”

Lalemana collapsed in the middle of the carriage, surrounded by a shallow pool of booze and broken glass. In front of her lay the ornate chest the king gave her, crushed and soaked.

“I think we got bigger things to worry about,” Papitas peered back up at the fog. “We fell for a while. I don’t even know if anyone can find us down here…”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” Lalemana dissolved into another fit of wailing.

“Come on, cheer up,” Papitas awkwardly patted her back, “Your knight’s tough. I bet she’s already planning how to get down here—”

“You don’t understand, monkey!” Lalemana slapped her hand away, eyes red and puffy, “I can’t miss this! I have to reach the spirit, that’s what matters now!”

“I get that, but—”

“No, you don’t!”

She shook her head furiously, “Even if Daisy’s okay, she’ll drag me back to Arcanletia. She’ll make me return, and I can’t. I don’t have the time! I can’t afford to sit there and wait!”

Before Papitas could reply, Lalemana turned and began tearing through the wreckage again.

Turning away, Papitas noticed a large bag that had somehow stayed mostly intact. Peeking inside, she spotted a single, untouched wine bottle.

“Hey,” she grabbed it, “This one’s still good—”

Before she could finish, Lalemana snatched it from her hands and shoved her aside.

“It’s the one my mom gave me,” she hugged it tightly.

“Okay, good. Look, why don’t we talk to the knight? Maybe we can still keep going—”

Lalemana gently placed the bottle back in the bag, zipped it up, and flung it out of the carriage.

“Miss Papitas,” her tone was composed and dignified, “your assistance has been noted and appreciated. However, I no longer require it. I shall proceed to Verdant Heights alone and fulfill my mission. Please remain here and await rescue. I deeply apologize for involving you in this matter,” she removed a ring and placed it on Papitas’s hand, “This bears the Dustiness family crest. With it, you should have no issue traveling within the country. Farewell.”

Bag slung on her back, Lalemana marched toward the edge of the clearing.

“…Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Y-yeah! I’ve got a compass! And I know I have to head south! How hard could it be!”

Her voice cracked under the weight of the bag.

Papitas watched as she trudged forward, barely three meters, before the bag slipped halfway off her shoulder and dragged along the mud.

A few minutes passed, she hadn’t left the clearing.

Papitas sighed, rolled her eyes, walked up and effortlessly lifted the bag off Lalemana’s back.

“H-Hey! What are you doing!?”

“You’re not doing this alone, princess. We’ll find the spirit, and save your friend. I’m with you.”

She marched ahead in the same direction Lalemana had been heading.

“W-wait—” Lalemana stammered.

“Come on, use that compass and lead the way!” Papitas called back. “We’ve only got, what, twenty days before this place floods, right? Move it!”

Lalemana stood frozen, mouth slightly open.

Then her eyes sparkled.

She wiped her nose, took a deep breath, and dashed after Papitas.

Day 1

The girls were deep in the forest after walking for a few hours. They decided to stay close to the cliff; Lalemana said that, according to the map Daisy showed her, the pilgrimage would follow the cliff’s edge for a while.

Papitas wasn’t entirely convinced, but it was their best bet. The cliff’s elevation might change as they went, and if anyone came searching for them, it made sense to stay near the route the others would be taking.

“The heat’s even worse down here,” Papitas shook her head. Her hair hung loose and heavy from the thick humidity.

“It’s also dark with all these huge trees. Watch your step, monkey,” Lalemana grumbled, wiping her forehead. She looked just as sweaty and disheveled.

“What’s in this bag anyway? It’d be better to travel light,” Papitas gave the bag a suspicious glance.

“Daisy told me to pack the essentials, so, you know—”

“Oh, so food and water and stuff? That knight’s really smart,” Papitas dropped the bag with a heavy thud, “I’m getting hungry, and we need to stay hydrated.”

“Hmm, yeah…” Lalemana looked away.

“…What the hell is this?” Papitas narrowed her eyes as she opened the bag.

“…Essentials…” Lalemana mumbled, still refusing to look at her.

“This bag is filled with cosmetics!”

Inside was a chaotic pile of cosmetics, lipsticks, fancy hairbrushes, glittering bottles of nail polish, a rainbow of creams and moisturizers, at least three tiny jars of what looked like facial masks, a set of ornamental combs, a heavy mirror, all surrounding the wine bottle. Not a single scrap of food or water. The bag was so full Papitas could barely close it again.

“As I said, essentials!” Lalemana yelped, her face turning beet red. “Daisy told me to pack essentials, and those are all essential to me!”

“This is all junk! We’re going to be traveling for who knows how long, and you brought a mirror! We need food, water, medical supplies! We can’t do anything with this garbage!”

“Of course we can! Or, I can! I can use all that to look amazing! You wouldn’t understand, monkey!”

“Are you insane!? You’re completely out of your depth here, princess!” Papitas cracked her knuckles, ready to crush a few of the bottles. “And you were going to go on alone like this? No wonder you have a babysitter!”

“Daisy is not my babysitter!” Lalemana barked, “And listen, monkey! I said I didn’t need your help! If you don’t like my essentials, that’s your problem—!”

“Although,” Papitas suddenly grinned, mischief twinkling in her eyes, “this would be a perfect start to my legend. I had to do everything for this worthless noble at the beginning of my grand adventure to save the world.”

“What did you just call me!?”

“Yeah, I can work with that. I’m a veteran adventurer, after all. Oooooooohohohoho!”

Lalemana covered her ears at Papitas’ awful laugh.

“Listen up!” Papitas pointed at her dramatically. “You’ve proven yourself to be a worthless adventurer, so I’m taking command! From now on, I’m the leader of this party! Our top priority is reaching the spirit, but we won’t make it without food and water! So, let’s keep moving, and keep your eyes open for fruit. That’ll help with hydration, and if we’re lucky, we’ll find animals, or monsters, we can use for protein.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You can’t possibly mean you’re going to make me eat monsters!?” Lalemana tried to protest as Papitas walked away, “H-hey! We can’t leave this here! There’s valuable stuff inside!”

“All of it is worthless garbage. I’m not carrying that. Just take the wine bottle and let’s go.”

Lalemana fidgeted, glancing left and right, “B-but we can totally use this!”

Papitas turned, unconvinced, “Really.”

“I mean it! Try to break this!” Lalemana dug into the bag and tossed her a tiny perfume bottle.

Papitas caught it in one hand and tried to crush it.

Nothing.

She gritted her teeth and used both hands, but the little bottle didn’t even creak. Frustrated, she tried punching it.

“What the hell is this made of!?”

“Ozmanite! Nothing short of holy magic can harm it!”

“…Ozmanite? The strongest glass in the world? For …perfume?”

“Nobles only use the finest materials. A commoner like you wouldn’t understand—” she cut herself off when Papitas gave her a sharp side-eye, “A-a-anyway, listen! How about this? We surround the wine bottle with the ozmanite flasks inside the bag. That way, it’ll be safe from harm!”

Papitas rubbed her chin. “Mmmh. That might actually work. And it’d be one less thing to worry about. You’re already useless enough.”

Lalemana grumbled, but stayed silent.

“Alright fine,” Papitas grabbed the bag again, “Let’s get going then!”

Day 2

“Ugh, my stomach feels weird…” Lalemana groaned, rubbing her stomach with a queasy look.

“At least we ate,” Papitas scanned the underbrush, “Still need water, though.”

“What eggs were those, anyway? They had those weird blue spots…”

“Some kind of lizard, I’d guess. Nest was on the ground, right? Stay alert, the mother might be looking for us.”

That morning, after going with no food the day before, they found large eggs. Papitas ate the eggs without hesitation, and Lalemana reluctantly followed after holding out as long as she could. Now, stomachs half-full but throats dry, they pushed forward in search of water.

The terrain did not make it easy. This lowland is usually submerged for most of the year; the soil beneath their feet squelched with every step. Each stride dragged like they were walking through soup, the air around them thick with moisture.

“You should be grateful you even got to eat! You should thank your party leader!”

“As if! Shut up, monkey!”

“Don’t talk to your leader like tha—”

“No, I mean seriously, shut up.” Lalemana pressed a hand over Papitas’ mouth, her eyes darting. “I think I hear running water.”

They froze, listening. The canopy buzzed with insect wings, birds chirped overhead, and the leaves murmured under a faint breeze, but underneath it all, a steady, rhythmic gurgling.

“This area floods often, right? Might be a pond or something,” Papitas guessed.

“No, no, it’s moving. Definitely moving. It’s a river. Come on!” Lalemana darted forward.

Sure enough, there was water, but not quite how they hoped.

“Well,” Papitas catched up besides Lalemana. “There’s the water alright. All the way down there.”

They stood at the edge of yet another cliff. A deep, sheer drop yawned in front of them, and at the bottom, far beneath the one they’d already fallen into, a narrow river ran between massive rocks. It looked nearly impossible to climb back up from if they went down.

Lalemana surveyed the area. A gap too wide separated their edge from the other side of the chasm. To their left was the wall of the cliff they fell from. To the right, the forest thickened.

“Let’s go right,” she turned away. “Maybe we’ll find a narrower point, or a tall enough tree to fell and use as a bridge.”

Papitas stayed where she was, arms crossed. “Why not just jump across?”

Lalemana turned on her heel. “What? Are you stupid? That’s like, what, ten meters across?”

“Looks less than that to me,” Papitas shrugged. “Besides, I’ve got strong legs. I can make that.”

“Okay, let’s pretend you somehow do. How do I get across?”

Papitas smiled. “I’ll toss you.”

Lalemana blinked, then burst into laughter. “You’ll what? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—HEY! Put me down!!”

Papitas grabbed her around the hips, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.

“You said it yourself, princess, we don’t have time to waste!”

Papitas began spinning in place as Lalemana screamed her heart out, “No, no! Put me down! Put me down! AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Lalemana sailed through the air, flailing and screaming, before vanishing into the underbrush across the gap with a crash.

“See? That wasn’t so bad!” Papitas grinned, “Wait right there, I’m coming over.”

She disappeared into the woods behind her, then sprinted back at full speed. With the heavy bag on her back, she took a mighty leap, but the weight shifted midair, she barely landed on the edge. Her boots slipped on the crumbling dirt.

She flailed, “Whoa—!”

Then a hand burst out from the bush. Lalemana, still breathless from the landing, grabbed Papitas and yanked with everything she had. Both girl, and bag, tumbled down, landing in a heap.

“Haa… See?” Papitas wheezed, sprawled on top of Lalemana, “Told you we’d make it.”

“Shut up, monkey,” Lalemana groaned beneath her.

That night.

They sat on opposite ends of a flickering fire. The flame’s glow barely pierced the dense foliage. Everything beyond the light felt like a black curtain.

They silently ate wild berries Papitas found before nightfall. They were small, bitter, and barely satisfying, but they were edible. They’d had nothing since the eggs that morning. Worse, they still hadn’t found any water.

Papitas lay on her back using the bag as a pillow, while Lalemana sat upright, staring into the fire.

“What do you keep seeing in those flames, princess?” Papitas asked.

Lalemana didn’t answer right away.

“Tell me,” she finally said. “Are you sure you don’t know some kind of levitation spell?”

“Huh?”

“Archwizards are supposed to know all sorts of fancy magic, right?”

Papitas sighed and sat up, legs crossed. “Well… guess it’s about time I came clean.” She looked at the fire, “I’m not an Archwizard. I’m a Martial Artist. Can’t use magic.”

Lalemana turned slowly to glare at her, “…This is not the time for jokes.”

“I’m serious! Look at me, do I look like an Archwizard? Do you see a staff? A robe? I’m telling you, I’m a Martial Artist.”

“Really, now? The Crimson Magic Clan, known for exclusively raising Archwizards, just so happen to send their one and only Martial Artist just in time to fulfill the prophecy? Stop messing with me!” Lalemana got up grabbing Papitas by the collar.

“That’s why I left the Crimson Magic Islands! Only Archwizards are considered adults there! I left so I could live the life I wanted, to become a Martial Artist and go on adventures!” Papitas quickly pried her off.

“No, no, no! I remember the king said you were an Archwizard!”

“W-well, he told me all about your prophecy and how I was supposed to be this great Archwizard, so I played along so I could get some food…”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH!” she howled, falling to her knees. “They sent me the most useless one of aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!! Why is misfortune always after me!?”

The two girls remained quiet for a moment, avoiding looking at one another.

“So then, martial artist monkey. Just how did the only Martial Artist in a clan of Archwizards end up here?”

“In the Crimson Magic Islands only Archwizards are considered adults, and only adults get to move around the islands as they please,” Papitas was now looking at the fire, “My dream since I was little—”

“You’re still little.”

“—was to become a Martial Artist and become an adventurer here,” Papitas continued, slightly irked, “magic never interested me, everyone in the Clan thinks it’s so good, but me? Nah,” she remained silent for a moment, “The day I left was supposed to be my graduation from the Crimson Magic Academy, when all kids my age become Archwizards. Not wanting any of that, I sneaked into one of the ships leaving for this country, one thing left to another, and I ended up here. Filling the role of the Crimson Magic Clanswoman from your country’s prophecy.”

“Your story sucks,” Lalemana said, flopping onto her back to stare at the dark canopy.

“…Your turn.”

“What?”

“You got my story. It’s only fair.”

“As if!”

“This is how adventuring parties bond! Listen to your leader!”

Lalemana groaned, then sat up slowly, “Someone important to me… is hurt. Badly. The Sapphire Spirit is the only thing that might be able to help her,” she stared at the fire, “That’s why I’m doing all this. That’s the only reason I came.”

Papitas squinted. “And…?”

“What do you mean, and?”

“That’s not the whole story and you know it!”

Lalemana glared, “Neither was yours.”

Their eyes met across the fire. Both smirked.

“Rest, monkey. I’ll take first watch.”

“From what? We haven’t seen a single monster since the fall.”

Day 4

The forest exploded with noise.

Branches cracked. Rocks shattered. Something was moving, fast. Too fast. It sounded like a siege from all directions at once.

Papitas and Lalemana sprinted between trees, stumbling over roots.

“There, hide there!” Lalemana gasped, pointing to a wide-trunked tree. They dove behind it without thinking, pressing flat against the bark.

Their chests heaved. Sweat clung to their brows.

Neither spoke.

“…What the hell are those things!?” Lalemana finally burst out. “They came out of nowhere!”

Papitas wiped her forehead, “No clue. Maybe they don’t like your perfume.”

The sounds got closer, as if it was chasing them directly.

A crash echoed nearby.

The air went still.

CRACK

The tree split in half.

A blur slammed down in front of them, hitting the ground hard enough to make it quake.

It unfurled like a spring uncoiling. Brown scales the size of roof tiles rippled across its body. Its forelimbs were thick, clawed, built to dig or kill. A long, toothless snout sniffed the air, but its eyes, small, black, and gleaming, locked onto them with unshakable intent.

More crashes followed, deeper in the forest. Dozens.

The whole place began to shake as similar creatures rolled and smashed their way toward them, ripping through trees and brush without slowing down.

The monster in front raised a claw and swung.

Papitas ducked, arms up, but Lalemana moved first.

Steel clashed with claw. Her blade caught the strike just in time.

“Move!” she fired the manaflare point-blank.

A blinding burst of white smoke exploded in the monster’s face, it reared back with a shriek.

They ran.

The monster’s roar thundered behind them, and suddenly the sounds shifted. The other rolling creatures began crashing toward the same point, converging with renewed aggression.

“What do we do now?!” Lalemana shouted, “There’s a bunch of them chasing us! How are we going to outrun them!?”

Papitas glanced back, “I have a plan!” she called over her shoulder, “I don’t need to outrun them, I just need to outrun you!”

Papitas leaned forward, arms tucked tight, her posture shifting. With a burst of speed, she surged ahead, form tight, strides sharp, breathing steadily.

“Ahhhhh!” Lalemana yelped, “Don’t you dare leave me behind, monkey!”

She pushed herself harder, but she could barely keep up with Papitas, who was already gaining distance. She didn’t look back.

Lalemana screamed, charged forward, and hurled herself onto the bag in Papitas’ back, gripping it as tightly as she could.

“Get off! You’re ruining my plan!” Papitas staggered, nearly losing her balance.

“No way! You’re not ditching me!”

Behind them, the crashing grew louder. A row of trees fell like dominoes.

Lalemana clung to the bag with all her strength. “FASTER, MONKEY! RUN FASTER!!”

“I’M TRYING!”

The monsters surged forward in a blur of rolling scales and shattering bark, hungry and unstoppable.

Papitas kept running, her legs a blur, dragging both of them away from the sound of destruction screaming ever closer.

Another beast zipped past, tearing through a bush and ricocheting off a tree like it was made of rubber.

“MONKEY!”

“I KNOW, I KNOW!”

A monster landed just ahead, the ground cracking under its weight.

Papitas planted one foot hard, kicked off, and vaulted over the monster’s rolling back.

She landed rough, knees nearly giving, but she didn’t stop.

Behind them, more trees went down like matchsticks.

“They’re getting faster!” Lalemana shouted.

“So am I!”

Papitas leaned forward, legs pumping so hard the ground barely felt them anymore.

Lalemana buried her face into the bag. “Run, monkey, run!”

They didn’t stop.

The crashing didn’t stop.

And neither did the screaming.

Day 5

“Come on, I’m pretty sure it’s close by. We need more water,” Lalemana’s hair and face were immaculate after an extensive morning makeup session.

Papitas, exhausted beyond complaint, trudged along in silence. She’d spent most of the night running for her life.

“Just let me rest some more. I can barely move,” her legs were shaking as she clung to the bag, “I had to run for hours while you screamed like a maniac. And you haven’t even thanked me for outrunning those monsters!”

“You didn’t really outrun them,” Lalemana sniffed, “They all rolled off after that giant snake appeared and swallowed one of them. You were just so scared, you kept running even after I tried to stop you.”

“Ugh,” Papitas looked away.

That night, part of the warm fog condensed, and it rained, giving them much needed water. Enough for maybe a couple of glasses, but better than nothing.

Nonetheless, after another scorching hot morning, they’re very thirsty once again.

On the bright side, Lalemana noted during the sprint that the terrain had been steadily uphill. It was hard to tell through all the fog, but she was fairly sure they were getting closer to the canyon’s top.

“I’d carry you, monkey, but then who’s going to carry the bag? Its got the important stuff,” Lalemana winked, slicing through the overgrowth with her sword.

They’d been chasing the sound of running water, a difficult task given the chorus of animals around them, birds shrieking, insects buzzing, frogs croaking echoing between the trees.

“Let’s just dump some of these stupid perfume flasks,” Papitas muttered, hefting the bag. The short girl was clearly on her last legs, “Hopefully it rains again soon. I want a proper bath.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I reek. This is awful—” Lalemana stopped mid sentence as they stumbled into a forest clearing.

A shallow creek cut through the middle, its water whispering softly over the rocks.

“Monkey, look—wah!” Lalemana turned, just in time for Papitas to shove her aside and dive toward the creek, dropping the bag with a thud.

“Ahhh, this feels amazing!” Papitas sighed, her legs submerged as she scooped water into her mouth with both hands.

Lalemana, huffing, immediately checked the bag to make sure the wine bottle was fine. Satisfied, she joined her companion at the water’s edge.

“What are you, some wild beast? Drinking with your hands?” she scoffed, pulling a glass from the bag and filling it with careful grace.

“You brought soap, right?”

“Of course I did. But this water’s freezing! How can you stand it?” Lalemana stared at her in disbelief.

“It’s not that bad. I used to swim in the sea all the time. This is actually pretty nice,” Papitas rinsed her face.

“The sea!?” Lalemana perked up, startling Papitas, “Right, you said you were from near the sea!”

“Y-yeah. Born and raised in Minmin. I’ve been swimming in the ocean since I could walk.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the sea!” Lalemana clasped her hands, “Hard to do when you’ve spent most of your life locked up…”

“O-okay,” Papitas tried to change the subject, “We’ve got water now, so hand me the soap. Let’s dump the perfume and fill the flasks. Once I’m cleaned up and rested, we’ll move on. Seeing as how the water’s too cold for the princess.”

Papitas tease made Lalemana irk, looking at the crimson eyed girl with annoyance. She wanted a proper bath too, but the cold water was simply unacceptable.

After a brief pause, she had an idea, “Not so fast, monkey,” she pulled out a manaflare, spun it dramatically and pointed it upstream, “Tinder!”

With a bang, the flare burst in a small fiery explosion. Several upstream rocks began to glow with heat, warming the water flowing over them. Papitas immediately felt the temperature rise.

“Ooooooh, that’s so much better,” Papitas lowered herself into the now-comfortable stream until she was fully submerged.

Lalemana wasted no time. She stripped off her armor and leapt in, reacting with the same blissful sigh.

A while later.

Difficult to say how much, but probably several hours.

Both girls were soaking in their improvised hot spring. Papitas, still in her regular clothes, was mostly underwater. Lalemana wore nothing but a towel, her armor placed neatly besides the bag, hair tied up and face slathered in lotion.

“Can’t we just stay here?” Papitas murmured, only her eyes and nose above the surface.

“I wish,” Lalemana replied, “But we’ve got to keep moving. I might have a few more shots left in the manaflare. I need to save some mana to dry your clothes anyway. Shame none of mine fit you, but hey, it’s not my fault you have the physique of a little boy.”

“Shut up, princess.”

“No, you shut up, monkey.”

Silence returned as both girls settled deeper into the warmth.

“…Hey, monkey,” Lalemana turned to glance at her companion.

“Hmm?”

“Tell me more about your hometown. About the sea.”

Papitas blinked, surprised. Then she grinned, rising just slightly as their eyes met for the first time in a while.

“Well, you see… Minmin is one of the most important towns in the Crimson Magic Islands…”

Day 7

“Could you stop doing that!” Papitas spun around, fists clenched.

“What?” Lalemana feigned innocence as she flicked her wrist, twirling the manaflare in increasingly elaborate spins.

“That stupid trick! You’re driving me insane!”

“But it’s really cool, watch this!” Lalemana flipped the manaflare backwards over her hand, caught it in a reverse grip, spun it between her fingers like a baton, and ended with a dramatic flourish as it clicked perfectly into the holster strapped to her back. She puffed her chest out with pride, “Don’t tell me that isn’t neat!”

“I cannot handle this, not while starving,” Papitas groaned, her stomach audibly growling as she rubbed it, “We’ve had nothing but those bitter berries since yesterday!”

They were surrounded by dense forest, tangled with undergrowth and towering trees. Ferns brushed their legs with every step, and the thick canopy above let through only faint beams of sunlight. The tall grass was so thick it was hard to tell what direction they were even going in.

Lalemana looked up thoughtfully, “There! I’ve seen those weird white birds flying around the treetops. If there’s a nest, there’ll be eggs, and at least we’ll finally get a decent view. We must be near the top of the canyon by now. It’s been uphill forever,” she turned to Papitas, “Climb up, monkey. I’ll stay with the bag.”

“What?! Why me?!”

Lalemana held up her hand, flashing her freshly painted sky-blue nails, “You can’t possibly expect these to climb anything. Besides, you’re the monkey. Climbing is your job.”

“Oh yeah?” Papitas squinted, stepping closer, “Let me see those for a sec.”

“Ha! Even you should be able to appreciate this—AHH!”

CRACK.

Papitas flicked her finger right across Lalemana’s nails, instantly chipping most of the left hand.

“AAAHHHH! Monkey, what did you just—WAAAH!” Lalemana shrieked as Papitas dumped the heavy bag on her, pinning her down.

“Admire them while I get us breakfast,” Papitas was already climbing a nearby tree, “That is, unless I eat it all myself.”

Several minutes later, Papitas was high in the trees, the world below almost invisible through the green haze. The rustling of birds and insects dulled to a soft hush. The cloud of warm fog was right above them, Papitas almost felt as if she could touch it.

She sat on a sturdy branch and scanned the view. Nothing stood out, no nests, no fruit, just birds flitting through the upper branches. Her stomach groaned again.

I swear, I’m going to lose all my muscle if I don’t get some real food soon… she thought, eyeing the birds, I’d kill for some ramen.

One of the white birds fluttered nearby and landed a few branches over, casually grooming itself.

It had bright, snow-white feathers that gleamed in the light, and a waxy black beak that curved like a horn. Hanging from its forehead was a long, fleshy, cord-like wattle that bounced lightly with each movement. It was about the size of a large dog, at least three times bigger than any bird Papitas had ever seen.

She stared, briefly forgetting her hunger, It’s sort of beautiful… her stomach growled again …and I bet it tastes amazing roasted!

Quiet as a cat, she crept forward along the thin branch, eyes fixed on the bird. Just as she braced to pounce, the bird puffed up like a balloon and opened its beak.

The sound that came out wasn’t just loud. It was earth-shaking.

A blaring blast like a foghorn fused with a war trumpet erupted from its throat, so powerful it sent visible vibrations through the air, stronger even than even Explosion magic. Papitas’ entire body recoiled. Her ears screamed in agony, she instinctively covered them, but that meant letting go of the branch.

The trees around her trembled violently, leaves and twigs raining down like a miniature storm.

As the bird let out a second shriek, even louder than the first, Papitas lost her grip and plummeted.

Branches slammed into her from every direction as she fell, and though her mouth was open in a scream, she couldn’t hear it.

Down below, Lalemana spun the manaflare with another exaggerated flourish and caught it in a mock-heroic pose.

“Hmph. That monkey just doesn’t understand elegance,” she muttered.

Her smugness wilted as she caught a glimpse of her chipped nails.

Just then, a thunderous blast echoed from above.

“Wha—?!” Lalemana jumped, yanking out the manaflare and aiming it skyward.

A second blast followed, this one so loud it made her teeth chatter. She froze.

Then, silence.

A soft thump knocked her out of it. Something landed on her forehead.

“Huh?” She looked up. An apple.

It bounced off her head and into her hand.

She blinked, then took a bite. “Hmm. Not bad.”

A massive thud shook the ground beside her. Several more apples followed, raining from above.

“Excellent work, monkey,” she said cheerfully, mouth full. “Not quite what I expected, but possibly the best apple I’ve ever had.”

A few feet away, a battered, branch-covered Papitas staggered up from a pile of leaves.

“WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Papitas stood up, “SPEAK UP, I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

Day 9

“LOOK! OVER THERE!” Papitas pointed towards a clearing up ahead, just past a thick cluster of hanging vines.

“I told you, I’m not the one with hearing problems!” Lalemana snapped, clutching her ear, “You don’t need to shout!”

“WHAT?”

After the incident with the bird, Papitas has had a hard time hearing, to the point that Lalemana’s been forced to hold her by the hand to make sure she doesn’t get away on her own.

Her hearing has been coming back. Slowly. Too slowly.

And so, the two now marched through the forest hand-in-hand.

They looked oddly charming.

They pushed through the final wall of leaves and stepped into the clearing.

Ruins stood before them.

A structure towered the area, half-swallowed by colossal roots and shrouded in warm fog. Tiered rooftops jutted from thick walls, carved in curling lines and sharp ridges. Moss, broken steps that led to faded stone reliefs, dragons mid-flight, lions curled and glaring from ledges. The geometry twisted upward like coiled snakes, interrupted by steep towers with flared eaves and crumbling turrets, their edges eaten by time.

In the center stood a massive gate, sealed by a cracked slab ringed in rusted charms and faded glyphs. Statues with lopsided eyes and open mouths stared out from the fog.

“A DUNGEON!” Papitas beamed, eyes practically transforming into stars.

“It is…” Lalemana echoed, her voice soft with awe, before catching herself, “But! We can’t waste time here. The Great Spirit of the Storm is coming, we don’t even know how far we are from Verdant Heights.”

She turned to leave.

Papitas didn’t move.

“LET’S GO, MONKEY, WE CAN’T WASTE TIME HERE!” Lalemana shouted right into her ear this time.

“NO WAY! IT’S A DUNGEON!” Papitas bellowed, gripping the bag like a child, “EVERY ADVENTURER DREAMS OF EXPLORING ONE! WE COULD FIND A SACRED TREASURE!”

“I know! But we’re not here for that!”

“I’M GOING IN.”

“You’re not even listening!”

“WHAT?”

“I SAID—!”

As the girls very loudly argued, they failed to notice the area around them beginning to dim at an impossible pace.

Not twilight. Not clouds. This was black ink smeared across the world.

And then came the sound.

A low, distorted howl, like someone humming into a broken flute. It reverberated through Lalemana’s spine, chilling the backs of her teeth.

She froze.

Something crept out of the dungeon’s gate. Not walked, crept. Like it didn’t need legs, or had too many.

Black smoke slithered forward in tendrils, curling along the stone and dirt like fingers groping for prey. Faces, or things like faces, swirled in the smoke, only to vanish when looked at directly.

Lalemana backed up a step. Her hand slipped into her pouch and wrapped around the manaflare.

(Monkey!) she whispered.

Papitas, already halfway toward the gate, didn’t respond.

“Monkey!” Lalemana hissed louder.

Papitas stopped. Turned slightly, “WHAT IS IT?”

Lalemana opened her mouth to yell again, but stopped.

The smoke froze in place. The pressure around them dropped like they were on a mountaintop.

Then it moved again. Behind Papitas.

She scratched her head.

Lalemana’s pupils shrank to dots.

The smoke recoiled. Then moved again. In a zigzag. Always circling behind Papitas no matter which way she turned.

Lalemana grabbed a pebble and tossed it at Papitas to try and draw her attention.

It passed straight through the smoke, and something growled.

Papitas flinched, “Huh?”

Lalemana yanked Papitas’ arm with both hands, nearly dislocating her shoulder as she screamed,

“Run!!”

“WHAT?!”

“JUST RUN, MONKEY!”

Papitas stumbled after her, still facing the wrong way.

Behind them, the smoke shrieked, a bone-rattling wail like boiling metal being poured. The ground shook. Trees groaned. Something heavy and ancient dragged itself across the clearing.

Lalemana yanked harder. Papitas tripped and skidded. They turned through a narrow path of vines, where the sunlight barely trickled through. Behind them, the smoke didn’t chase so much as spread, crawling through branches, shadowing them from every angle, yet always staying just outside Papitas’ line of sight.

The trees ahead twisted as the warm fog thickened. Voices whispered in their ears, but the words were garbled, like prayers spoken backward underwater.

Lalemana held the manaflare strongly, magic starting to leak from the chamber as she nervously exhaled mana.

The smoke surged again. Shadows stretched, and from within them, something clicked. Not claws. Not bones. Something deeper.

The cold spiked so fast that Lalemana’s teeth chattered mid-word. Her magic flared uncontrollably, sparks flying.

One sparked off Papitas’ ear.

There was a pop.

Then silence.

Then—

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Papitas’ hearing came back all at once.

And with it, the full brunt of the monster’s scream, a guttural, split-voice shriek.

Her eyes widened. She turned around.

The smoke paused.

A face emerged. Not a whole one, just a grin. Upside down. Too many teeth.

A flicker of pale hands stretching where there should be none.

Hair that moved like water. No eyes. Or too many.

Then the grin vanished. The thing crouched.

And Papitas vaulted, “GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!!”

She took off as fast as she could. Lalemana clinging on as Papitas dragged her at full speed.

They tore through the forest like demons were chasing them, because one was. Every time they glanced back, the smoke was just beyond the trees.

They burst into another clearing. A mess of stone and vines, broken relics and collapsed statues.

The monster surged forward.

“DO SOMETHING!” Papitas yelled, flinging her arm out.

Lalemana jerked her hand up. The manaflare whined, magic rattling in its chamber.

The monster roared and struck the ground.

The earth cracked, the shockwave flung the girls into the air. Separated from the bag, Papitas flew above the monster, Lalemana was face to face with it.

Her eyes met with the monster’s. All of them, if whatever she was seeing were eyes.

With a scream, she fired.

Bolts of lightning lashed out, threading through the smoke. The monster jerked. Its form flickered. For one terrible instant, Lalemana saw it.

Twisted limbs. Fingers bending inward. A grin across the ribs.

Papitas landed on top of it.

Her arms locked the creature’s torso. Her legs whipped into position.

And they fell.

Hard.

With a piledriver that struck like thunder, in a huge dirt explosion.

The smoke vanished with a shriek like breaking glass and splintered bones.

Lalemana approached the crater. Papitas stood in it, triumphant, coughing up dust.

“…My hearing’s back,” she said, dazed.

“Shut up, monkey!” she rushed to check the bag, which landed in a nearby bush. Sure enough, the wine bottle was safe.

Papitas climbed out of the crater, for a moment, there was silence.

Then.

A shriek. Far behind them, from the direction of the dungeon.

Not angry. Not injured.

Hungry.

The two girls turned, slowly.

Black smoke still curled around the dungeon’s sealed gate, thick and deliberate.

“…It’s still coming after us,” Lalemana whispered.

Papitas nodded. She didn’t grin this time, “Then we better not stop.”

They walked off, bruised, scratched, and pale as ghosts.

But side by side, still hand in hand. Neither of them noticed.

They were too busy not looking back.

That night.

The girls sat on opposite sides of the fire, orange light flickering between them.

Lalemana calmly brushed her hair with methodical care.

Papitas, cross-legged and barefoot, munched through the last of their fruit, flicking seeds into the flames.

A rustling in the trees froze both girls. Their hands tensed, eyes darted to the dark. Neither moved, nor breathed.

Only when the leaves stilled again did their shoulders loosen, just slightly.

“A dungeon,” Lalemana scoffed, her voice high and mocking, “‘It’s bound to be amazing!’” she pitched it even higher, “‘There’s going to be a sacred treasure inside!’”

Papitas snorted, “Hey, I don’t recall hearing any complaints!”

“You weren’t hearing anything then!”

Papitas grinned, undeterred, “Yeah, but come on! That’s what happens in real adventures! Don’t tell me you weren’t curious about those ruins.”

“I was not.”

“Oh, get real. You owe me. I saved your noble ass again. And days ago, you got me to open up. It’s been your turn for a while, princess.”

Lalemana didn’t answer. She simply kept brushing, eyes low.

Papitas gave her a side glance, waited a beat, then huffed and flopped onto her side with her back turned.

A few quiet moments passed. The fire cracked and popped.

“…Yes,” Lalemana said softly, “Of course I wanted to be an adventurer. How could I not?”

Papitas didn’t move, but her ears perked.

“I grew up being told I’d go on some grand quest. That I’d inherit the same destiny as my long-past ancestor. That I’d save the world. I used to dream about dungeons like that one,” she paused, brushing slower, “But I don’t care about that anymore. The only thing that matters is getting the Sapphire Spirit back to Arcanletia. That’s it. That’s everything.”

“So what, after you heal your friend, you’ll go adventuring?” Papitas asked quietly.

“…Maybe,” Lalemana admitted.

Papitas chuckled, “Your story sucks.”

They both went quiet again, leaving only the steady rhythm of crickets and flame.

“Hey, get over here,” Lalemana said suddenly, a tiny smile on her lips. “Let me brush your hair.”

“Huh?” Papitas turned, suspicious, “No thanks, I’m good.”

“Come on. Your hair’s a disaster.”

“I don’t really care about that sort of stuff—”

“JUST GET OVER HERE!”

“Fine, fine!” Papitas stood up, then sat in front of Lalemana with exaggerated reluctance, “J-Just don’t pull too hard, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Lalemana muttered, already working through the first few strands, “Your hair’s like Daisy’s. I used to do this with her…”

Papitas stayed quiet. The brushing continued.

“You know,” Lalemana added, “this is relaxing. All girls do this. It’s like a rite of passage.”

“I’ve missed a few rites,” Papitas replied dryly.

“Clearly. Gosh, your hair is a mess. It’s like you’ve never taken care of it in your life!”

“I barely do.”

“This is no way for a lady to live! Just how were you raised? I’d like to speak to your mother!”

“…Yeah,” Papitas’ voice dropped, “I’d like to talk to her too.”

Her voice changed, the teasing edge was gone.

Lalemana froze. Her hands hovered in place, strands of tangled hair still caught in her brush, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t know,” Papitas stood up, “You’re done right? I want to sleep.”

She didn’t look back. Just walked to the bag and laid down. Her back stayed turned.

Lalemana watched her, the brush still dangled from her hand.

She wanted to say something, anything, but no words came.

Eventually, she set the brush down beside the fire.

The flames crackled on.

Day 13

“Let’s take a break,” Lalemana panted, leaning against a tree, her bangs clinging wetly to her forehead.

Papitas turned, just as drenched, “Again? You’ve been begging for breaks ever since we got through the cloud. Come on, we might be near the top!”

“The humidity is killing me. I’m not built for this weather,” Lalemana muttered, sliding down to sit with her back to the trunk.

They’ve been wandering blindly for two days since passing through the cloud of warm fog, but Lalemana hadn’t been the same since. Slower. Unsteady.

The top of the canyon still nowhere in sight.

Papitas crouched nearby, frowning, “Are you sure you’re not sick? That priest mentioned something about a disease here, didn’t he?”

“I’m fine, monkey,” Lalemana waved her hand dismissively, “Just overheated. We can’t waste time. The Great Spirit of the Storm is getting closer by the day.”

She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling slightly. Papitas didn’t look convinced but followed without argument.

As they kept moving, Lalemana began falling behind. Her steps dragged. Her eyes lost focus. Sometimes she’d stop entirely, disoriented, and blink as if Papitas had just vanished.

Their pace slowed to a crawl, the slowest they’d moved since crashing into the canyon.

“You’re clearly sick, dumbass! Stop being so stubborn!” Papitas protested after forcefully feeling her forehead, “You almost feel like boiling water, and you’ll get worse easily in this heat.”

“It’s just an allergic reaction,” Lalemana insisted weakly, “These trees, maybe the leaves have something, just help me up…”

Her cheeks were flushed a deep red. Sweat poured down her pale face, and her usually styled hair now hung wild and unkept.

Papitas sighed deeply, slung off the bag, and crouched down, “Fine. Get on. I’ll tie you so you don’t fall off. You definitely caught that disease. The Spirit might be able to fix you, but not if you drop dead halfway there.”

Lalemana didn’t budge.

Instead, she staggered forward on her own, “I said I’m fine,” she grumbled, “I won’t be anyone’s luggage.”

“Aaaargh, why are you so stubborn?!”

The forest grew eerily quiet as they kept walking. Sounds of birds were absent, with the air still in humidity, not even the rustling of the leaves could be heard. The only sounds filling the silence were their steps and Lalemana’s constant panting.

“I don’t like this,” Papitas’ eyes darted side to side.

“Me neither. I hate this place,” Lalemana moved ahead, constantly wiping sweat off her brow.

“Not that, there’s something here, I’m pretty sure.”

“There’s trees,” Lalemana shot back, “Fog. You see monsters in every shadow now?”

Papitas stopped, clearly annoyed, “What’s with the attitude!?”

Lalemana whirled on her, “Because this heat is killing me! I want water! I want out of this damn place! You think I’m not trying—!?”

As she ranted, Papitas’ attention drifted, something moved. Not leaves. Not branches.

A shape.

“—and why the hell are you even a Martial Ar—WAH!”

A shadow dropped from above.

Papitas shoved Lalemana aside just as a massive beak slammed into the dirt where she’d been standing. The ground exploded with splinters and mud.

“What the hell is—!?” Lalemana cried before Papitas tackled her again, narrowly dodging a second strike.

The trees shifted.

No, legs.

Grey, bark-colored, knobby legs that had stood still as trunks. They moved now, snapping twigs underfoot. Above them, nothing but swirling fog.

The beak struck again, fast, silent. Almost surgical.

Despite its size, the monster barely made a sound.

Lalemana scrambled away, drawing her sword. Being the larger target, the monster seemed to prefer her. The runes on her gauntlets shone to life, as did the ones on her sword, breaking into segments and unraveling into a whip, arcs of electricity dancing between links.

She raised her arm to strike, then buckled face-first into the mud.

“Haa…haa… I can’t move…” she groaned.

Her skin turned ghostly. Lips pale. Pupils slow to track. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably, barely keeping a grip on her sword.

Papitas’ eyes flicked up, the monster was moving.

She dove without thinking, intercepting the next strike. Her fist connected with the monstrous beak.

THWACK!

The shockwave snapped through her wrist. The monster reeled back.

Finally, she got a clear look at it.

A massive bird appeared, its beak large enough to swallow them in one go.

Its eyes were fixed on Papitas.

Huge. Glassy. Frozen in a stare that never shifted, never blinked. Too wide, too still. They weren’t the eyes of a beast. They looked like glass marbles jammed into a human skull. Empty, yet watching.

Something about it felt wrong. Not wild, not mindless.

The bird’s head rose up again, hiding in the warm fog. Then, a thunderous rattling, like cannons firing in a tight, rapid sequence, CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK, echoing across the forest.

Papitas winced. The trees shuddered from the force.

The fog churned upward. Wind gusted and branches bent.

And then, silence.

“I think it flew off…” Papitas panted hard. She was standing over Lalemana, fists still raised, “I couldn’t hit it properly. It was too fast…”

Lalemana lay motionless beneath her, breathing heavily.

Papitas dropped to a knee beside her, checked her forehead again, still blazing.

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, “A noble, fevered, stubborn idiot. Hopefully we won’t be seeing that bird again.”

Day 15

Papitas crouched behind a thick tree, breath ragged, a few bruises on her cheek.

Lalemana, a few dozen meters ahead, wasn’t faring much better.

They tried communicating with wild hand gestures through the warm fog, though based on their frustrated expressions, it wasn’t working. The rain that morning only made the fog denser. They could barely see each other.

The forest was quiet. No wind, no birds, not even the rustling of leaves.

They knew what that meant. They’ve barely gotten any rest the past couple of days fighting off that bird.

Now, enough was enough. With Lalemana’s fever worsening and Verdant Heights still nowhere in sight, they agreed to make a stand.

That thing was going down.

Earlier, it ambushed them again, splitting them up. They regrouped, lightly wounded, now lying in wait for even the slightest motion.

Lalemana pointed insistently at the manaflare and then toward the trees.

Papitas waved both arms in an exaggerated X, No mana! You’ll pass out again, idiot!

Nonetheless, Lalemana kept scanning the area, manaflare in hand in wait for the bird to make the slightest hint of its location.

After what felt like hours to her feverish head. Frustrated, she pointed in a random direction away from Papitas and fired. The chambers of the manaflare lighting in reddish light as the magical bullet flew through the air, making a fiery explosion upon contact with a tree.

“Dumbass!” Papitas shouted.

But the blast worked. A cluster of trees shook to the side, something massive flinched.

Papitas darted toward the movement without thinking.

Behind her, Lalemana dropped to her knees, bracing herself against a tree.

“Raaaah!” Papitas launched herself toward the monster’s limb, only for it to vanish from view in a blur. Her foot met nothing. She sailed forward and crashed into a real tree, splitting its trunk in half.

No time to stop. She spun, just in time to duck the creature’s beak as it came down like a guillotine. She met its eyes, those glassy, death-still eyes.

What followed was a blur of chaos.

Papitas darted, lunged, leapt from branches, but every punch and kick was just a bit off. She kept missing what should have been clean hits. One fist crushed a boulder. Another sent her punching through a tree.

Meanwhile, Lalemana, still dizzy, tried to steady herself. She raised the manaflare again but nearly dropped it. Her vision doubled.

“…not yet,” she mumbled, “Not yet…”

The bird lunged for her.

Papitas intercepted it mid-charge with a flying knee, enough to take the bird off balance.

Lalemana summoned her last ounce of strength, she unsheathed her sword and rolled under the bird’s leg. Slicing deep into the joint as she moved.

The bird shrieked.

Papitas jumped up, eyes flashing. “Great work princess! My turn!”

The bird staggered, just enough.

“FOCUS…” she reared back, channeling all her strength, “...PUUUUUUUUNCH!”

Her fist slammed squarely into the bird’s skull with a sound like a cracked boulder.

The bird shrieked again and with a thud, it collapsed.

The girls stood side by side, panting, muddy and scraped.

They turned to each other. A silent nod.

Then, together, “Yeah!” they clapped hands, the strike echoing like a thunderclap through the fog.

With Lalemana exhausted by the creeping fever, the girls had to rest next to the bird’s body. Lalemana supported herself on a tree, while Papitas kept the bird.

“Hey, gimme your sword,” Papitas walked over.

“Huh?” Lalemana blinked, her head still swimming, “What the heck are you planning?”

“I dunno about you, but I’m starving. And that?” she pointed at the bird, “Looks like dinner to me.”

“Are you insane!?” Lalemana recoiled, “I’m not eating a monster!”

“Well, suit yourself,” Papitas shrugged, “But that thing’s basically a huge chicken. Some soup might do your fever some good… even if it’s just boiled meat and water.”

“Absolutely not, monkey, I will not eat that—!”

A loud groan coming from Lalemana’s stomach made it clear what she really thought.

“Just give me the sword.”

That night

Once again, the girls sat at opposite ends of a bonfire.

Lalemana looked far better after the makeshift soup. She was polishing her armor with practiced care, the bonfire’s light gleaming off the clean metal surface.

Papitas, meanwhile, was devouring a giant chunk of roasted meat, “This is so good,” her mouth was full, “This will be the first night I’ll sleep with a full stomach in weeks.”

Behind her lay the gnawed remains of the bird’s leg.

Lalemana stayed quiet, breastplate in hand, almost lovingly wiping it clean. Papitas glanced her way, a frown slowly forming, though it was hard to tell whether she was annoyed by Lalemana’s routine or her chest.

“Why are you cleaning that so thoroughly? It’s just armor.”

“It’s not just an armor, monkey. This is the armor of the Dustiness family. A sacred relic modeled after what my ancestor wore when fighting the Demon King centuries ago.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides, it’s made of manatite, if anything attacks me I want to be well protected, and it also needs to look nice. Of course you wouldn’t understand—” she looked pointedly at Papitas’ dirt-streaked clothes, “—you’ve been wearing the same outfit since we met.”

“Could you stop calling me that? Papitas, that’s my name, the awesome name my mom gave me. Get it through your head, Pa-pi-tas!”

Lalemana sighed, “Ugh, I just can’t do it! Your name is so ridiculous!” her sudden jump made Papitas blink in surprise, “Like, I know your clan likes weird names, but if you’d been named something less silly, like I don’t know, Funifura or Dodonko, maybe I’d be able to take your name seriously! Yours sounds like a dumb pun! Even Daisy had to hold back laughter whenever she pronounced it!”

“Hey—!”

“And you don’t call me by my name either, I’m no ‘princess’!”

“Well, it’s difficult for me to tell, the Crimson Magic Islands have moved away from the primitive concept of monarchy of your country.”

“Wha—?”

“In the Crimson Magic Islands, whoever proves to be the strongest in each village gets to be the chief, a much better way of doing things,” Papitas put her finger on her chin. “My father is a chief. I guess that makes me a princess, hehe.”

“Tell you what, you call me by my name, and I’ll call you by yours,” Lalemana put her breastplate back on.

“I could just call you what your mom called you. What was it? Loo-loo?”

“Shut up, monkey.”

Day 16

“Looks like we reached the end.”

“Yup.”

The girls stood at the base of a cliff, more like a dead-end corner, boxed in by steep canyon walls on both sides. After over two weeks of travel, this was where the canyon seemingly ended.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Lalemana shouted, practically clawing at her own hair, “There’s no way this is it! Just how deep are we!?”

Warm fog clung to the air, thick and suffocating. It was impossible to tell how far below the surface they were, hundreds of meters, maybe more.

“I think I saw a tree up there,” Papitas pointed toward one of the cliff faces.

“What!? Where!?” Lalemana darted next to her.

“Right there,” she gestured again, “I caught a glimpse before the cloud covered it.”

Without a word, Lalemana whipped out a manaflare, “O Great Spirit of the Storm, lend me your power, Gust!”

The spell burst against the canyon wall, the blast of wind ripping the fog away and clearing the air. Sure enough, several trees crowned the ridge above them, just as Papitas said.

“Hey, we did make it!” Papitas turned to Lalemana, only to see the blonde girl hunched over, hands on her knees, wheezing for breath, “You’re still sick! You didn’t have to use that much mana!”

“I’m fine,” Lalemana muttered between gasps, “We made it. That’s what matters,” she stretched her back and stumbled toward the cliffside, “Come on. Let’s climb.”

She made it a few steps before stopping, staring up at the wall, clearly gathering what strength she had left.

“Hop on,” Papitas motioned to the big bag strapped to her back.

“I can do it myself, monkey.”

“Sure, and you’ll probably be at it all day, if you make it. Just get on.”

Reluctantly, Lalemana grabbed the bag as Papitas began climbing.

“I’ve been wondering,” Lalemana muttered halfway up, “Why haven’t you shown any symptoms?”

“The Crimson Magic Clan can’t get sick,” Papitas replied confidently, “Hold on tighter, your grip’s getting weak.”

A while later, they reached the top. Papitas stretched out her arms, taking in the view.

They emerged into a forest, but this one looked different from the canyon. The trees were taller, sturdier, the air less humid. The ground wasn’t as moist, less overgrown. This area probably didn’t flood.

“We’re finally out of the canyon,” Papitas turned to check on Lalemana. She found her leaning against a tree, staring blankly at the ground, “You sure you’re okay, princess?”

“Stop worrying about me, monkey.” she straightened up, face pale, “Let’s go. We might be close.”

There were spots on her skin. Dark, uneven patches she hadn’t noticed until this morning.

They weren’t obvious, hidden beneath armor, but she could feel them now.

She didn't know what it meant. But it couldn’t be good.

“I think there’s a clearing ahead,” Lalemana pointed, voice low.

Faded though it was, it was undeniably a road. Wheel tracks, boot prints, all visible in the damp earth.

They stood in silence, then exploded.

“We made it, we made it!”

“It’s the road, it’s the road!”

They hugged and spun in giddy circles, until they realized what they were doing and broke apart, each facing the opposite direction.

“Excellent work, monkey,” Lalemana blushed.

“Yes, princess. We’re finally back on track,” Papitas coughed and pointed toward the mountains in the distance, “Hey! Aren’t those the peaks we saw when we arrived by train?”

“You’re right! That’s the Storm Mountains Arthur told us about!” Lalemana’s finger shot to a dark horizon just behind the peaks, the clouds above them already a dark grey, “And those clouds… that’s the Great Spirit of the Storm! We’ve still got a few days before it gets here. Things are finally looking up! Come on, the town must be this way!”

Even with the canyon behind them, the heat was brutal. The storm’s approach dragged heavy humidity across the area, and the rain from the night before turned the dirt road to slop.

Every step was a struggle. Papitas lagged behind, her boots sticking to the road like glue.

“Wah!” she cried as she faceplanted into the mud. One boot stayed buried.

“You alright?” Lalemana rushed over and pulled her up.

“Yeah, just got stuck,” Papitas groaned as she turned back to retrieve her boot.

“WAIT!” Lalemana shrieked.

Papitas raised her guard, alert, “What!? Monsters!?”

“No, your foot!” Lalemana pointed in horror.

Papitas looked, “What about it? It’s not injured.”

“No! Your toenails! They’re painted! I can’t believe it!”

Sure enough, peeking through the mud, her toenails were a deep, polished black.

“Oh. Yeah. My mom used to do that stuff. She’d paint them when I was little. I just… kept doing it,” her voice dropped a notch, somewhere between embarrassed and nostalgic.

But Lalemana was too absorbed to notice, “Black!? That’s hideous! And what a sloppy job! Who paints their toenails black?! You should go with soft colors, pastels! Light blue, mint green, lemon yellow, pale pink at most…!” She went on. And on. And on, “...Black is so aggressive! And don’t get me started on red, either, unless you want to look like some tavern floozy from—hey, are you listening?”

By the time she turned to face Papitas again, the girl was already halfway up the road.

“MONKEY!”

Lalemana’s vision had been blurry for a while. Her feet felt like anvils, her breath ragged. She stumbled after Papitas, every step got harder.

“Smoke!” Papitas pointed ahead, “That’s gotta be from a blacksmith, or maybe someone cooking! There’s a town up there!”

She turned, but her smile dropped.

Lalemana stood swaying, pale and shaking, armor streaked with sweat and mud.

“Geez, you look terrible!” Papitas ran back, grabbing her by the shoulder, “Just hang on. We’re so close. You’ll be able to rest, just a little more.”

With Papitas supporting her, the two girls made the final push.

At the edge of town, a lone guard leaned lazily on his spear, eyes half-opened. Verdant Heights doesn’t get much excitement.

Soon enough he spotted them. Two figures trudging up the only road, still tiny in the distance.

As they got closer, their silhouettes sharpened. A short girl with long black hair, lugging a massive bag and supporting a blonde girl in battered armor.

“Hey! You two!” the guard called out, “Don’t tell me you walked here! Nobody’s done that in a long time!”

“What’s the name of this town?” the blonde girl rasped.

“Verdant Heights, of course. Closest town for days. If you weren’t aiming for here, you got seriously lost.”

“The pilgrimage,” she continued, “Are they still here?”

“Ah, figures you came with them. No, sadly they left a while ago. Apparently, they ran into many troubles getting here so they left as soon as they were done—”

“Where’s the shrine?”

“Oh, that’s just down the main street, past—hey, wait,” he squinted, trying to get a closer look at her, “Miss, you don’t look too good—whoa!” he jumped back, “She’s got black fever! And it’s bad! Look at her skin!”

Blotchy marks bloomed across Lalemana’s arms and face.

“If you’ve got a tribute, we need to get you to the spirit fast—”

“NO!” Lalemana shoved him away, “I can’t waste it on that! Just tell me where the shrine is!”

“You’ll die without treatment! The doctor here knows how to deal with it, he’s treated tons of cases—”

“I don’t have time—!” Lalemana suddenly collapsed.

Papitas stood behind her, arm extended.

“Excuse my dumb companion, Tell me where the doctor is. I’ll carry her.”

“I think she’s still awake.”

“Why the hell did you do that, monkey!?” Lalemana sprung back up.

“Whoops! Was supposed to knock you out. Let me try again.”

WHACK!

This time, Papitas punched her straight in the face.

Lalemana hit the ground with a thud.

“She’s extremely dumb and extremely stubborn. This is the only way she’s getting treated.”

“Uhh… she’s still conscious…”

“Damn. That wasn’t enough? Okay, hold still.”

“Monkey, wait! Stop! Okay, I give up! Let’s go to the doctor—!”

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

“I think she’s already unconscious…” the guard said nervously.

“I need to make absolutely sure.”

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

Day 20

Faint voices and the clatter of carriage wheels echoed in Lalemana’s mind. Slowly opening her eyes, she found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling beneath a thin blanket.

Sitting up, she saw that she was in a wide, sunlit room with wooden floors and pale plastered walls. Next to her was an empty bed. On the nearby dresser sat her armor and the large bag, now empty. The wine bottle stood on a table beside it.

She glanced down, white pajamas.

“Where am I…?” she murmured, lifting her sleeves to inspect her arms.

The patches were gone. No fever. No light-headedness. She felt fine, and hungry.

She pushed open the window. From the second floor of a building, the entire town sprawled before her, a tapestry of low, steep-roofed houses built from dark, richly stained wood and bright clay tiles. Their eaves curled gently upward at the corners, some adorned with painted carvings, homages to the Sapphire Spirit.

The main plaza below bustled with movement. Market stalls lined the square, shaded by woven canopies. The air carried the scent of grilled fish, herbs, and sweet rice.

People dressed in loose tunics, wrap skirts, and vibrant sashes moved around. Wide straw hats shielded some from the sun.

On the opposite end of the plaza stood a small Axis Church made out of stone, unmistakable for the stain glass logo above its gate. In front of it, a nun lazily swept the floor.

Lalemana took in the fresh air, “So we did make it,” she exhaled, “But where is that monkey?”

Footsteps approached. She turned just as Papitas entered the room.

“Oh, hey, you’re finally awake!” she greeted with a smile, “You almost died, y’know. The doctor said if we’d arrived a day later, you wouldn’t have made it.”

Lalemana’s expression darkened, but before she could speak.

“Here, have some water,” Papitas handed her a bottle, “You’ve been sleeping for three whole days!”

Lalemana chugged half of it, “I barely remember anything after we reached the canyon edge,” she wiped her lips.

“Y-yeah?” Papitas looked away, “You were so weak, I had to carry you the whole way. You passed out just as we reached town,” she puffed out her chest.

Lalemana groaned, “I’m starving…”

“I bet! Come on, princess. The food here’s good. It’s past lunch, but we can still grab something,” Papitas grinned.

Lalemana smiled, and approached the bag, “Huh? Monkey, where’s the stuff? I had some lotions here I want to put on, my skin is all sore, I need to look my best before we see the spirit.”

“Oh, that junk? I pawned it all, how do you think I paid for your treatment and this inn?”

“You what—,” Lalemana did a double take before checking the bag thoroughly, just as Papitas mentioned, it was completely empty, not a single item remaining.

“I mean, we needed cash, right? I put all the money I was paid back in Arcanletia in the bank, and there’s none here. I did what had to be done. But don’t worry! After I paid the doctor and the stay for the inn so far, I still have some left, we should be able to stay here and eat well for a few days.”

“MONKEY!” Lalemana leaped at Papitas, grabbing her by the shoulders, “Just what did you pawn all my treasures for!?”

“A-about a hundred thousand Eris!”

“All that was worth several millions! The cheapest perfume flask was over 150.000 Eris!” she began shaking Papitas.

“I couldn’t tell the difference, it all looked like junk to meeeeeeee!”

The pawn shop was closed.

On the door hung a scrawled note: [Gonna get rich in a real town. See ya, suckers!]

Lalemana, with no makeup and no mercy, stared at the sign in silence.

“Oh well,” Papitas shrugged, “No use crying over spilled lotion. Let’s go eat.”

Lalemana grabbed her by the collar, dragging her back.

“Monkeeeeeey!”

“L-listen! I’ll make it up to you! Once we’re back in Arcanletia, I’ll tell the king to give me more money!”

“Monkeeeeeey!”

“I-I’ll eat less and buy you some discount cosmetics! That’s something, right!?”

“Monkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!”

After a fulfilling meal, not so much for Papitas, the two were back at the inn. Lalemana spent about an hour in front of a mirror trying to make herself look as good as possible given the cheap cosmetics they were able to afford.

“This is the best I can do with these,” she sheathed her sword and fastened the manaflare to her belt, “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Huh?” Papitas tilted her head, “You look the same as always!”

“My natural beauty is doing the heavy lifting, obviously,” Lalemana held up a cracked compact, “Look at this! This so-called eyeshadow is barely visible. You see, monkey, a good eyeshadow—”

“I don’t want another lesson on makeup, let’s just get going,” Papitas began walking away.

Lelamana grabbed the wine bottle and chased after her.

They made their way toward the shrine, the narrow paths giving way to quiet woods.

“I checked out the shrine while you were asleep,” Papitas said, kicking a loose stone. “The spirit didn’t show up, but I felt something moving through the trees. Must be the protector.”

“It won’t matter,” Lalemana replied calmly. “I know how to do the ritual. Once I present the wine and say the words, the spirit will recognize us.”

“About that,” Papitas looked away, “Listen, let’s say that the prophecy doesn’t quite work out, what then?”

“It will work.”

“Okay, but if it doesn’t—”

“It has to.”

The girls walked a narrow, well-marked trail, its stony edge warm from the afternoon sun. Above them, the sky blazed a deep orange, the final glows of sunset casting long shadows.

On their left, a battered metal sign stood, its red lettering rusted but unmistakable: [DANGER: VEILBIND FOREST BEYOND THIS POINT.]

Beyond the sign, the trees changed. They bent at unnatural angles, their bark blackened, their leaves long, serrated. Dense bushes and razor-thin grass blocked the way, as though nature itself were guarding whatever lay deeper within.

Eventually, the path widened, opening into a weathered stone clearing.

“This must be it…” Lalemana whispered, her voice catching in her throat, “The Shrine of the Sapphire Spirit…”

It was an ancient, crumbling ruin overtaken by grass and moss. At its heart, a stone circle was etched into the ground, cracked but intact. Two rows of pillars extended from it, leading toward a steep, but not tall hill at the far edge of the clearing, behind it loomed the Veilbind Forest’s twisted treeline.

Whatever this place had once been, had long since fallen into ruin. The fence encircling the site was low and incomplete, and other half-buried stone remnants scattered the edges like old bones. The pillars themselves varied in height and condition, their once-polished stone now chipped and carved with the deep gouges of battle. Some still bore the scorch marks of magic, others were broken in half.

Lalemana approached the center of the circle and gently placed the wine bottle at its center, “Monkey, keep quiet. I’m doing the talking, I don’t want you angering the spirit.”

Papitas raised her hands in mock surrender but said nothing. Her gaze drifted toward the hill. The orange light of the sunset filtered through the twisted trees beyond, casting shifting shadows that made the forest appear to breathe.

Lalemana dropped to one knee. Head bowed, voice steady and low, she spoke with solemn reverence, “I am here humbly calling the holy Sapphire Spirit for assistance!” she clapped hard enough to make sure it’d be audible, “I bring you a fine offering of wine, please grant us an audience!”

The clearing fell into absolute stillness.

Then, light.

From atop the hill, the fading orange hue of the sunset gave way to a sapphire blue. It poured through the trees like mist, swirling with soft glimmers. A figure emerged, graceful, radiant, feminine. Arms outstretched, with wing-like veils of light trailing from her back, it seemed almost weightless.

Lalemana’s breath caught. Papitas took a single step forward, mesmerized.

Lalemana seized her wrist tightly, (Don’t mess this up, monkey!) she hissed, “We come before you with an offering of the finest wine,” she called out, louder now, her voice trembling slightly, “It has aged over a century… P-p-please, accept it.”

The wind stirred.

Leaves scattered. A pulse of air swept over them, and the bottle vanished.

Papitas blinked. For just an instant, through the trees behind the spirit, she spotted movement, a second figure, leaping between branches with inhuman speed.

Lalemana kept going, “Thank you…! Th-thank you so much!” she stammered, eyes shining, her thoughts screaming it’s working it’s working it’s working—”M-m-m-m-my n-n-n-name is Lalemana—”

The spirit raised her hands.

A magic circle blazed to life around Lalemana and Papitas. Light shot upward from the ground, white and searing, and warm.

Both girls gasped.

Pain and fatigue disappeared, evaporating like mist. The spirit’s blessing left them restored to perfect health, and something more. They felt lighter, clearer, as if their very souls had been cleansed.

But—

“W-wait!” Lalemana’s voice cracked, “We didn’t come here for healing!” still on her knees, she trembled, “We came all the way from Arcanletia to ask for your aid—”

Papitas watched the trees. The shadow was still moving, circling, watching, “I don’t think she’s listening.”

Lalemana’s jaw clenched. Her voice grew desperate, “I-I came to beg for your help in healing someone dear to me! Her name is Nina a-and—”

The spirit began to fade. Slowly, deliberately. Her light receded towards the Veilbind Forest.

The shadowy figure moved again.

“It’s leaving,” Papitas warned, voice rising.

“Shut up!” Lalemana cried, “Please! Lady Spirit, don’t go—I-I am Lalemana, I was raised alongside Nina—I’ll do anything—!”

“It’s leaving,” Papitas snapped, “We need to move now!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Tears welled up in Lalemana’s eyes, spilling freely. Her voice cracked from emotion,”Please don’t go—!”

Papitas stepped forward, Lalemana grabbed her wrist again, lighter than before. Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, “Monkey…”

Papitas gently pulled free, “We have to save your friend, right?” she winked, “So let’s go get it.”

With a leap, she landed atop one of the worn pillars.

“I am Papitas!” she declared, “I am of the occupation Martial Artist, the most powerful of the Crimson Magic Clan!” She struck a ridiculous pose, fingers splayed dramatically across her face. “And you’re coming with me!”

She launched from the pillar, soaring straight toward the fading spirit. And as she did, a blur lunged from the trees.

Papitas spun midair, arms raised, “Gotcha!” she grinned, fingers curling, not in a strike, but in a grapple.

Grabbing the shadowy figure by the neck, Papitas hurled it down like a sack of flour. The shadow landed without a sound and leapt backward, cloaked in darkness as it faced her once more.

Papitas squared up, fists raised close to her face, elbows tucked in tight to guard her body. Her chin dipped low behind her knuckles, eyes locked forward, focused, “Once I beat you, that spirit’s as good as ours. Come on!”

She charged, fists blazing. A flurry of jabs punched through the air with enough force to shake the trees, each near-miss whipping up dust and wind, the sound of displaced air snapping around them.

The figure wasn’t much taller than her, wrapped in a heavy black cloak with no face, no limbs visible, just a void in motion.

Her fists shot forward again and again, mixing footwork with raw, merciless strength. But the shadow moved unnaturally, drifting instead of dodging, like it wasn’t bound to the ground. Even as it evaded her attacks, it never fought back.

It was studying her.

Then, without warning, it sidestepped a roundhouse kick and drove its fist square into Papitas’ stomach.

She smashed into the hillside like a cannonball, a blast of dust and shattered stone erupting from the impact.

The shadow landed lightly before it, motionless.

A hand emerged from the dust. Papitas pulled herself out, clutching her ribs, bruises all over her.

“That stung a bit,” Her body trembled, her breathing shallow, “But it’ll take more to take me down!”

She forced herself upright, fists raised again, though her stance was looser.

“Hey, princess!” she shouted at Lalemana, “I can totally take it down myself, but if you wanna help, that’d be cool!”

“B-but…!” Lalemana hesitated, her eyes locked on the shadow.

Papitas didn’t wait. She launched another assault, keeping the shadow moving, relentless even as her punches missed.

She wasn’t trying to land a clean hit this time, she was herding it.

The shadow felt it too, its heel brushed something behind.

A pillar.

Before it could react, Papitas roared, “FOCUS PUNCH!”

Her fist collided with the stone.

The pillar exploded, stone shards screamed into the forest like shrapnel, entire chunks of rock blown away from the force. But the shadow twisted away just in time.

Papitas was reeling, sweat pouring from her face. Her lungs burned. Her knees wobbled.

Another hit sent her flying again, she steadied herself as much as she could. Her body folding as she slid to a stop, dropping to one knee. Her breath came in ragged gasps, shoulders trembling as she tried to steady herself.

The shadow watched in silence. Papitas snarled and pushed against the ground, but her arms wobbled under her weight. She barely made it upright before the shadow lunged again.

“Monkey, get down!” Lalemana’s voice cracked through the air.

Without thinking, Papitas leaned back, her whole torso folding like a hinge, the shadow’s slicing inches above her face.

BOOM.

A fire spell hit on the shadow.

The shockwave reignited Papitas. From her bent position, she kicked up, catching the shadow off-guard and launching it into the hillside.

Lalemana stood behind her, manaflare in her hand.

She unsheathed her sword in one fluid motion, the runes on her gauntlets and on the blade cracking to life with electricity.

She pointed it forward, eyes hard, “The spirit is coming with us.”

The shadow rose again. The fire tore a few holes in the shadow’s cloak, revealing brown leather boots beneath.

Papitas grinned, “Yeah, that’s more like it!”

The shadow reached inside its cloak and drew a weapon, twin curved blades attached at the hilt. It held it in reverse grip, its posture suddenly shifting.

It surged forward. Papitas aimed a punch, it slid beneath it.

Lalemana's sword turned into a whip, twisting toward its leg, but the shadow flipped through the air, landing in front of her with blade swinging. She parried, barely, sparks flying.

Their swords clashed. Lalemana fought with precision, her form crisp and drilled, but the shadow overwhelmed her, forcing her to retreat step by step. Every time she used her whip to try and catch it from afar, it closed the distance in a blink, forcing her back into blade-to-blade combat.

Papitas lunged, too slow. The shadow ducked, her strike missing by inches.

Again.

Again.

Still missing.

She turned to grab the shadow, but it leapt away again.

“Damn it, hold still—!”

She lunged and, grabbed a pillar instead, lifting the entire column over her shoulder.

With a primal scream, she backdropped the stone into the earth. The pillar cracked in two, dust shot out like a shockwave.

Even the shadow paused for a moment.

It landed on Papitas’ neck, she staggered under the weight. Then stepped on her chest with both feet strongly, Papitas’ tiny body bouncing on the ground.

Lalemana ran up from behind. Her blade surged with lightning again. She lashed out, turning it into a whip again.

But the shadow caught it mid-swing, twisting the whip around its own blade, and kicked her square in the chest.

She flew back, crashing into the stone circle. Her vision spun. Her arms trembled. The manaflare nearly slipped from her fingers.

Everything hurt.

The runes on her gauntlets dimmed.

As the shadow turned to the weak Lalemana, Papitas grabbed it by the leg.

“You and I aren’t done…” her voice, just as her grip, was weak.

The shadow ignored her as it leaped away, her sword pointing to stab the blonde girl in the throat.

Lalemana tried to parry the attack, but her arms wouldn’t respond, the runes from her gauntlets faded.

The shadow’s blade stopped an inch in front of her throat, both it and Lalemana shocked as they noticed Papitas grabbing the shadow by the waist.

“Don’t you dare… turn your back on meeeeeeeeee!”

With a roar, she backdropped it, slamming it into the ground so hard the earth cracked.

She didn’t let go.

She stood.

Backdrop.

Again.

An even bigger crater this time.

Again.

Rock and debris flew with each slam.

On the third backdrop, they landed far from Lalemana, the shadow dazed. Papitas stood, spinning and tossing it in the air.

Lalemana lifted her trembling arm. The manaflare chambers glowed, “O Great Spirit of the Flames lend me your power, Tinder!”

BOOM.

A fireball engulfed the shadow midair.

Papitas leapt and grabbed it mid-flip, then drove it head-first into the earth with a spinning piledriver.

The ground split, dust billowed out in all directions.

Lalemana staggered forward, clearing the dust with a sweep of her sword. Papitas lay in the center of a massive crater, arms spread, gasping for breath.

“W-Where is it…?” Lalemana muttered.

All around, torn bits of cloak fluttered to the ground. Some on fire.

No shadow in sight.

“It probably exploded,” Papitas grinned weakly, “That combo was crazy… Just let me rest for a sec and we’ll get that spirit—”

“You will not lay a finger on my mistress,” another voice echoed from above.

Both girls looked up.

Standing atop the last intact pillar, framed by the twilight sky, was a new figure.

A broad double-bladed sword rested across one shoulder, the metal faintly glinting. Bruises dotted her exposed forearms, only half-covered by worn black gloves. A long quiver jostled at her hip, packed full of sleek arrows.

Her tunic, forest green, finely stitched, clung to her frame with a strange formality, cinched at the waist with a black belt. Dirt-stained thigh-high boots framed her torn shorts. Short silver hair framed her face in neat twin braids, shimmering like silk. Her skin was porcelain-smooth, her expression unreadable, and her eyes, bright green, glowed faintly in the dim light.

And ears, long and stretching nearly the length of a hand.

“An elf!?” both girls shouted.

Silently, and without taking her eyes off them, the elf girl plucked an arrow from her quiver. She slid it into the center of her sword.

A pulse of magic shimmered through the air.

A translucent string of light snapped into existence as she pulled back, revealing the weapon’s true form, a bow.

She loosed the arrow. It screamed through the air.

BOOM.

The explosion lit up the area. Trees bent from the shockwave. Fire and dust surged outward, swallowing everything.

From the smoke, Papitas burst forth, teeth gritted, one arm cradling the limp body of Lalemana. She landed hard on the stone circle, staggering as she set her down.

“What the heck is an elf doing here!?”

The elf stood untouched, lowering her bow, “Leave now and stay with your lives, or stay here and die.”

Papitas grit her teeth, “Not happening.”

Lalemana pushed herself upright with trembling arms. Her sword glowed faintly, barely responding, “We’re not leaving without the spirit,” her voice hoarse.

“…As you wish,” the elf girl placed a hand on the center of her bow and twisted. It split cleanly into two swords.

Without hesitation, she charged.

What followed wasn’t a battle. It was a dismantling.

Papitas lunged, throwing a wild punch, the elf dodged with a single sidestep and countered with the hilt of her sword, knocking her off-balance.

Lalemana swung her sword, but the elf intercepted it mid-air, spun around, and kicked her. She collapsed, gasping.

Papitas tried again, a diving tackle, only for the elf to catch her arm mid-flight, flip her over, and slam her into the ground.

A blur of movement, a flash of steel.

And it was over.

Papitas lay flat, face scraped against the stone, one boot pressing down on the side of her head.

Across from her, Lalemana was on her knees, her sword arm pinned behind her back. The elf’s blade rested just beneath her chin.

She pulled back to strike—

“STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”

The cry rang out like a bell, cracking through the standoff.

All three turned toward the hill.

The Sapphire Spirit stood there.

The light that had once cloaked her was gone, and her true form stood revealed beneath the moonlight.

A young woman, slim and radiant, her presence almost otherworldly. Light blue waist-length hair shimmered, part of it looped back with a softly glowing clip.

She wore a dark-blue outfit trimmed in white, the fabric fluttering with each graceful motion. Long, detached sleeves trailed behind her like streamers, and a faint, pink veil shimmered at her back.

She looked at them, tilting her head.

“…You two,” she said slowly, one hand on her chin while the other settled lazily on her hip, “You look kinda familiar?”

Konosuba +500 Vol. 1: The Sapphire Spirit /END

Epilogue

Day 1

Daisy was trapped in darkness.

No lights.

No sounds.

Is this what it’s like to be dead? her mind wandered. She couldn’t feel her body. There was nothing to move, nowhere to go.

She didn’t know how long it’d been, seconds, minutes, days. Maybe none had passed at all. But it felt like forever.

Then, a soft glow began to seep through the void. It pierced the black like morning through a shuttered window.

Her vision returned in fragments. Blurry outlines. A lap beneath her, her own hands resting lightly there. A dull pain pulsed behind her eyes.

Across from her sat a girl.

They were alone in a dark void. No walls. No sky. Only the two chairs they occupied, glowing faintly as if lit from within.

“Hi there,” the girl said with a bright smile.

Her voice was soft and friendly. Familiar, in a way Daisy couldn’t place.

Daisy tried to lift her head. Tried to speak. The words barely made it past her lips.

“You’re not really supposed to be here yet, you know?” The girl giggled and scratched her cheek with one finger, “Something must’ve gone sideways down there. That happens, sometimes.”

Daisy squinted, but her vision remained hazy. The girl’s features were hard to make out. She looked young, younger than herself, with a glow about her skin that made it hard to tell where light ended and shadow began. There was a shimmer behind her, something feathery. She wore a combination of white and purple. There was a gem glinting at her neck.

She lifted a hand and gave a small wave, “Well... off you go. And be more careful next time, okay?”

The void burst into white. No explosion, no pain, just a rush of warmth, and a sense of falling upward.

The girl’s smile lingered in her mind as everything else dissolved.

Day 18

A ceiling.

Wooden planks. The sway of movement. A curtain flapping at the window.

A carriage.

Daisy gasped and sat up halfway, then winced and slumped back down. Her entire body screamed.

“Whoa, hey—easy! Stay down!” a voice called out, “Hold on, I’ll get someone!” There was the clatter of boots and the creak of a door swinging wide, “Father Arthur! Father Arthuuuur!”

A moment later, Arthur appeared, a fuzz that passed for a beard adorning his mouth, “Well, sleeping beauty finally woke up,” he smiled, “I was wondering if you’d need a kiss to wake up,” he helped Daisy sit up, “Didn’t think I’d be talking to you again, to be honest. Not after what I saw.”

Daisy blinked hard, rubbing at her eyes, “Where’s Milady? Was she hurt?”

Arthur’s expression shifted. His gaze dropped, “…She’s in Lady Aqua’s care now.”

“What?” Daisy froze, “W-where is she!?”

“W-well, given what happened at the canyon days ago…I’d assume at the bottom…”

Her face went pale, “What!?”

“Easy, don’t get up too fast—”

“What do you mean bottom of the canyon!? Where are we!?” she gasped, grabbing by the shoulders.

Arthur hesitated, “…We passed Verdant Heights about a week ago. We’re nearly to Swanson now. On the way back.”

“You left her!?” Daisy’s voice cracked, “What the hell happened!?”

“We have no idea, you were hit by some scary powerful magic, as were about another twenty people, half of which didn’t survive,” Arthur turned serious, “Listen, we wanted to go save them, but they fell off that cliff, and that place is super dangerous, there was no way of knowing what happened to them. And if we sent someone, well, we could’ve lost them too,” he exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck, “We had to get to the Sapphire Spirit. It was our only shot to save the wounded. Even with that, we lost a few along the way.”

Daisy’s vision blurred again. Arthur reached out to steady her before she toppled forward.

“It wasn’t an easy choice. But that’s how the pilgrimage goes. Not everyone makes it.”

“…Sister Alondra?” Daisy’s voice was hoarse.

“She’s safe,” Arthur blinked, “She teleported home from Verdant Heights with others. Told me to thank you. She wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t shielded her from the brunt of the blast.”

Daisy clenched her fists, “So… the Spirit healed me.”

“I’ll spare you the details, but you weren’t quite in, hum… one piece, when we took you to it.”

There was silence. Then she looked up, “I need a horse.”

Arthur blinked, “Come again?”

“I’m going back.”

“Hey—”

“She’s alive, I’m sure of it.”

“Look, I get it. You two were close, but—”

“I’m not asking,” Daisy stood up, “I will go. With or without your help.”

Arthur swore under his breath, “You’ve lost your damn mind. The Great Spirit of the Storm is nearly overhead. You’ve never seen rain like what’s coming. These roads are about to vanish.”

“I don’t care,” she barked back, “It’ll take more than a fall to kill milady.”

Arthur groaned and covered his face with his hand, “…Fine,” he muttered, “But I’m going with you. Someone’s gotta drag your stubborn butt back when this goes sideways.”

Daisy exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders.

“But!” Arthur raised a finger, “If the rain gets too bad, or we find proof she’s with Lady Aqua—I’m turning us around, and we’re heading straight back to Arcanletia. No arguments.”

She nodded.

After a heated argument with a nun, in which Arthur was slapped a few times, he finally got a horse for Daisy and him.

“Hope you’re right about this,” he took the reins, Daisy behind him. A bag with provisions further back.

“Milady is alive, I’m sure of it.”

He grunted and clicked his tongue, urging the horse forward, “Then let’s go find out.”

The wind was rising. In the distance, dark clouds poured over the peaks of the Stormy Mountains, rumbling with thunder.

Together, they rode straight toward them.

Day 20

“Alright, this should be the place,” Arthur and Daisy dismounted the horse.

After days of hard travel, they had finally returned to the cliffside where Lalemana and Papitas fell. The storm hadn't let up once in the last two days, thick clouds loomed above, and crackling bolts of lightning sent the horse skittering every few minutes.

The rain was lukewarm. With the Great Spirit of the Storm approaching, the Great Spirit of Summer stirred in response, heating up in anticipation of their clash. The result was a sweltering downpour that felt like being inside a boiling bathhouse with a leaking roof.

“See this?” Arthur pointed to the trees flanking the left side of the road. The trunks were blackened and skeletal, a few still coughing up thin pillars of smoke. “Whatever hit you that day… it was really bad. These trees hold moisture like crazy. Takes serious magic to burn. When I first saw it, it looked like hell. Even Create Holy Water couldn’t put the fires out.”

Daisy wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on the broken edge of the road, where a massive chunk of stone collapsed into the foggy abyss below. A thick, white fog blocked the canyon floor.

“They must be down there,” she murmured.

“Yup,” Arthur took the heavy provision pack off the horse. “Been waiting to ask this, fall’s a few hundred meters easy. How exactly do you plan on getting down there?”

“I’ve got a landing skill,” Daisy finally turned to meet his gaze, “One that works no matter the height. Don’t worry.”

“Alright, then you’re out of here, buddy,” Arthur patted the horse on its side, “Teleport!”

The horse vanished in a flash of light.

“Hold on to me,” Daisy stepped toward the edge, crouching slightly in preparation.

“Don’t mind if I do—!”

“Move your hands away from there unless you want to lose them.”

Arthur yelped. “Hey! You said ‘hold on’—Aaaaaaaaah!”

The moment his hands repositioned from her chest to her waist, Daisy vaulted off the cliff.

The wind howled around them as they plummeted, hugging the canyon wall to avoid smashing straight down. They tore through the cloud layer, and the forest floor below finally came into view.

“H-Hey, how about you use that skill already!” Arthur pleaded, holding onto her as strongly as he could.

“I need to be closer to the ground, else we’ll still crash!”

As they neared the tree line, Daisy twisted her body and raised a leg, then kicked the cliff behind them with a shout, “Skyline Waltz!”

A ripple of magic spread from the impact, a magic ring forming beneath them. The momentum reversed sharply. Their fall slowed into a graceful spiral, like leaves twirling on the wind, before they touched down between the trees with the softness of a dancer’s final step.

Arthur collapsed onto all fours, gasping. “By the grace of Lady Aqua, we made it! I never want to do that again!”

They landed in a deep part of the forest, surrounded by thick trees in every direction. The rain still poured, but here the canopy dimmed it to a gentle patter.

“I think I saw a clearing that way during the descent,” Daisy walked away, “There was something odd there. Let’s check it out.”

“Hey, let me breathe for a second!”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Arthur stood in front of the fallen carriage, he could hear Daisy inside looking around, “This thing must be really strong to survive the fall—”

“It’s not,” Daisy emerged, holding up the shattered king’s treasure chest, “Nothing could survive that kind of fall in one piece. This landed softly. Someone caught it.”

Arthur raised a brow, “Come on now, you can’t seriously be saying—”

“There are no bodies. No sign of a struggle. Miss Papitas must’ve caught the carriage. Maybe after milady slowed it down mid-fall.”

“Alright, fine. Let’s follow that logic,” he said, hands on hips, “Let’s say they survived the fall. Where’d they go next?”

“Which way is Verdant Heights?”

Arthur blinked, “Uhh… roughly that way,” he pointed southeast.

“Then they went that way,” Daisy nodded, already stepping off.

“Come on! You can’t just—”

“I know milady would stop at nothing from getting to the spirit,” Daisy turned to see him, “And she knows where the city is. She would’ve gone that way.”

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temple, “Alright, let me try something first. Might get us an answer faster,” he turned to a nearby tree and called out, “Hey, you there! Mind coming over for a sec?”

Daisy remained silent as it seemed Arthur was talking to thin air, turning his head at the top of the fallen carriage.

“Say, we’re looking for a couple of girls, a pretty blond girl with short hair and a short brunette with terrible attitude. They must’ve been here a few weeks ago, did you see them?”

“You’ve gone mad from the heat,” Daisy muttered, “You’re talking to the carriage.”

“Huh?” Arthur looked at her, then grinned. “Oh, right. You can’t see her, of course. Not enough faith for your type. Here, I’ll help. Just don’t freak out, alright?” he extended his hand towards Daisy, “Eyes of Providence!”

A sudden bright light blinded Daisy, she reeled back, shielding her face. When she opened her eyes again, the forest was no longer empty.

Hundreds, no, thousands, of ethereal beings floated through the air. Wisps of violet and gold light curled around tree trunks. Tiny dragons with translucent wings slithered through leaves. A cluster of glowing songbirds wheeled overhead in hypnotic spirals. Beneath her feet, the soil pulsed faintly as if breathing.

And sitting on the ruined carriage was a woman no larger than a dove, legs swinging carelessly over the edge. A pixie.

Her hair flared out in every direction, wild and bright like a living flame, each strand swaying on its own as if catching some invisible breeze. Her outfit looked like a robe cut too short, deep blue with flowing sleeves and tied tight with vivid red cords, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh. Long, pointed ears poked through her fiery hair, and her feet were bare save for simple red wooden sandals that clicked softly when she hovered. From her back sprouted four shimmering wings, thin, translucent, and insect-like, twitching faintly like a dragonfly resting mid-flight.

“W-what—?” Daisy barely managed the words.

“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in,” Arthur said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder, “But this is what the world really looks like.”

Daisy stared at the pixie on the carriage.

The creature stared back.

Then slapped her thighs with a sharp clap and barked, “Hey broad, I know these gams are amazing, but try not to gawk, huh?”

Daisy flinched.

Her voice was gravelly, like someone who drank black coffee for breakfast and smoked cigars for lunch.

“She’s just stunned. Don’t mind her,” Arthur chuckled, “Anyway, did you happen to see the girls?”

The pixie shrugged, “Eh… maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” She leaned back lazily, arms crossed, “Memory’s kinda fuzzy, y’know what I mean?”

The pixie, Daisy thought, is asking for a bribe?

“Of course,” Arthur set the bag down with a smile. “Some holy water would be good, right?”

“Do I look like I want piss water?” the pixie spat, arms out in disbelief. “Just look around ya daffy cleric, this whole place is soaked! We’re practically swimmin’ in it!”

“Uh, what then?”

“You humans always carry booze, don’t ya?” She snapped her fingers, “I’m sure if I had a little drink, my memory might suddenly come back.”

Arthur looked at Daisy.

“...N-no,” she said too quickly, “Not at all.”

“For real?” The pixie’s wings sagged as her whole body dropped in disappointment, “Tch. Forget it, I got places to be—”

“Miss pixie, wait!” Daisy stepped forward as the pixie fluttered up, “Is there anything else you’d take… to help you remember?”

The pixie floated midair, rubbing her chin with her tiny knuckle. “Hmm… How about some smokes? You know, puff-puff.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Sorry. Don’t carry that sort of—”

“Aha!” Daisy lit up, rummaging through a skirt pocket, “Milady’s filthy habit finally proves useful!” she triumphantly held up a slightly crushed box of cigarettes, “I confiscated this on the train.”

“That’s the stuff, broad!” the pixie grinned like a gremlin, grabbing the cigarette with both hands and lighting it using her hair. She shoved nearly half the stick into her mouth with a pop, her tiny stomach expanding like a balloon as she took in, “Yeahhh, that hit the spot…”

“Um… Miss pixie?”

“Don’t call me that,” she exhaled a thick plume of smoke with a gravelly chuckle, “The name’s Giselbrecht Friedegard von Hohenwald.”

Daisy blinked. “O-Okay… Miss… Hohenwald?”

“Just Hohenwald’s fine, broad.”

“R-right…Hohenwald. Did you see milady?”

Hohenwald nodded, “Yeah, I saw your girls alright. I was takin’ a nap in my favorite branch, real comfy, perfect breeze, when this whirlwind slaps me right off it. I get up all mad, ready to give somebody the ol’ what for and there they are. A tall blonde, a tiny terror, yellin’ at each other, tossin’ junk from this box. Couldn't hear me, of course. But they marched off that-a-way, carryin’ some big black bag.”

Daisy rushed into the carriage. Her voice came out muffled from within, “She’s right, it’s gone!”

Arthur leaned in, “What’s gone?”

“I asked milady to make a bag with essentials, I put one of the tributes there. It’s true, they must’ve taken it to the spirit,” she emerged from the carriage and gave a deep, sincere bow, “Thank you very much, Miss Hohenwald. Arthur, we can’t waste another second.”

Arthur gave a polite nod to the pixie and slung the bag over his shoulder, hurrying to catch up with Daisy.

But a flutter of wings zipped in front of them.

“Hold it,” Hohenwald floated up and planted herself on Daisy’s shoulder like a parrot, kicking her feet back and forth, “You got more of them sticks, right? I’m in.”

Daisy paused, “In?”

“I’ll tag along,” the pixie shrugged, “You two seem like you find trouble easy, and this place gets real boring once the storm spirit shows up and starts wreckin’ the place. Plus, I got some pals in these parts. Could come in handy.”

Arthur blinked, “Wait, are you seriously—”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” she snapped, flipping Arthur off.

Daisy smiled faintly. “We’d be glad to have you.”

With that, the mismatched trio pushed deeper into the wild forest, the shadows of enormous trees swallowing them in green and gray. The storm churned in the skies above, each rumble of thunder a distant drumbeat to what lay ahead.

Chapter Text

Side Chapter: The Princess in the Garden!

Part 1

Faint sunlight spilled through the tall, curtainless window, painting long shapes across the marble floor. Beyond the glass stretched a snow-covered garden, its white stillness interrupted only by the silhouettes of trees. The faint warmth of noon did little to soften the cold.

A quiet grunt came from beneath the heavy blankets of a large bed. A pale arm emerged, then a young woman followed, icy blonde hair in disarray, the left side of her face hidden behind long bangs. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, blinking at the hazy light.

The room around her was spacious but unassuming. A high arched ceiling, white walls trimmed with gold, a fireplace of polished stone long gone cold. In front of the bed stood a grand set of double doors.

The girl stretched her arm, and intently looked at the back of her hand for a while.

She pushed the blanket back, with a soft sigh, she leaned over and felt along the bedframe until her fingers found the smooth handle of her crutches. The nightgown she wore hung loosely, its hem carefully pinned to keep it from tangling. She took a breath, steadied herself, and rose, a single, practiced motion that still cost her a faint groan.

“Your Majesty, please!” came a panicked voice. The doors burst open, and a young woman in a maid’s uniform hurried in, “You mustn’t force yourself so much!”

“Good morning to you too, Snow,” the young woman winked, bags under her eye, “And for the thousandth time, call me Nina. As you always did.”

“I-I know, but still! You should rest more. If you need to stand, I can help—”

“Give it up, Snow,” another voice interrupted.

The second woman who entered was clad in a military attire, the navy-blue coat trimmed in white and gold. A polished rapier rested at her hip, and her blonde hair was tied neatly behind her, strays of blue in some parts, “For me, I’m happy to see her up and about, you look better Nina.”

“If that’s what you think, Sherry,” Nina limped toward the window, “then your vision’s worse than mine.”

The two attendants froze, exchanging worried looks. Nina ignored them, gazing at the white-dusted garden.

“Sherry,” she said after a pause, “the narcissus are covered in snow. Be a dear and go clear them, will you? And gently this time, don’t massacre the poor things again.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty!” Sherry saluted and hurried off, nearly tripping over herself in her rush.

Nina sighed and made her way toward her hairdresser. She sat before the mirror as Snow approached with a brush, “Nina, Prime Minister Frost requested an audience again.”

“I have no business with that man. He’s not to set foot here,” Nina waved her hand dismissively. Then she reached for her headband, a slim circlet decorated with silver leaves and plums that glinted in the light. She adjusted it, letting the plums cover her left eye along with her hair, “Ah-no, not like that!” she snapped suddenly, glancing at the window, “Not a shovel! You have to scoop around the flowers, not uproot them! That idiot. Fine, I’ll do it myself—”

Before she could move, Snow stepped quickly in front of her, “Please, Nina, you can’t risk your health. You must stay indoors.”

“I’ve been trapped inside these walls for weeks. I can’t just watch her bury my plants alive!”

“If you don’t want to see these walls anymore,” Snow retorted, trying to sound smug, “you’re free to move through the residence. You’re the one locking yourself in.”

Nina stared at her flatly until Snow’s confidence dropped, “R-right, I’ll go help Sherry clear the garden!” she stammered, rushing out of the room.

Nina chuckled softly, then sat at a small round white table in the hall. Tall windows to her right overlooked the garden, while those ahead framed the main courtyard below. Another door led toward the hallway.

Before her lay a modest meal, a plate of fruit slices, soft bread, and a bowl of thin soup beside several bottles of medicine and vials of health potion. She ate quickly and without appetite, even the sweetest pear tasted like ash. She took small bites, forcing herself through each one, chasing the bitterness down with sips of lukewarm coffee.

“The garden has been cleared, Your Majesty!” Sherry announced proudly as she returned, hair covered in snow, “And I can assure you most of the flowers survived!”

“Uh-huh,” Nina murmured, half-listening, “News from the frontlines?”

Snow exchanged a glance with Sherry, then took a steadying breath, “Your father still leads the defense of the Axel River dam. Progress is slow, but the Demon Queen’s forces are being pushed back.”

“...And?” Nina asked after swallowing a handful of pills, wincing as the bitterness hit her throat.

“W-well, there are several s-skirmishes going on around the s-south of the country, but the Royal A-army is also pushing them back!” Snow sounded a bit too eager.

She still hasn’t noticed she always stutters when she lies

“Sherry,” Nina said after a moment, “clean yourself off. You didn’t need to push so hard. I’d rather not have a second patient.”

Sherry saluted again, half-dazed, and shuffled toward the corridor.

A few hours later.

Nina sat in her usual spot, a soft couch facing the tall windows overlooking the Royal Residence’s main garden below. She held a small carving knife and a block of wood, her hands trembling slightly with each motion.

Through the glass, she caught sight of a large snowman standing crookedly, its stick arms drooping, its head tilting to one side. Despite herself, Nina chuckled.

Hope she won’t get sick from that, I wonder how her training is going… she must be on break because of the winter.

Her thoughts were cut short by a sudden pop echoing in the distance, the muffled sound of a flare gun going off. A thin trail of smoke drifted above the rooftops, right over the Royal Residence.

Nina pressed her cheek to the cold window, squinting, “...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What’s the matter, Nina?” Sherry leaned in beside her.

“It’s Lulú,” Nina groaned, “That knucklehead escaped again!”

Of course, Lalemana’s previous escape attempt caused probably the biggest mess the Royal Residence had ever seen, the Royal Guard was so desperate some even dared to pound on Nina’s door in their frantic search.

“Sherry, go out there and find her! Who knows what that dumbass is capable of doing now!” Nina waved her arms wildly, as more puffs of smoke rose deeper in the city.

“Please calm down,” Snow approached with a tray of tea, “She’s not that reckless. I’m sure she’ll be found soon enough. She probably just wanted to wander around the city for a bit... as we... used to do…”

Nina bit her lip, her gaze drifting away.

“I-I’ll go notify the guards to report any updates!!” Sherry stammered, already halfway to the door, “But yeah, as Snow said, Lalemana isn’t that dumb. I’m sure she’ll be back tonight as usual!”

Tonight, yeah… Nina thought as she made her way back to the chair, “Make sure to keep me informed, she can’t go missing. Can’t risk the prophecy, right?”

That night.

The room was dim, Snow and Sherry stood near the door, ready to retire for the evening. Nina remained seated near the exit, her eyes heavy with thought.

“Will that be all for today?” Snow asked softly.

“Yes. Thank you for your work,” Nina replied without looking up.

Sherry hesitated, gathering courage, “Nina... why not let her see you already? It’s been months, and she’s been coming every day—”

“No,” the word came sharp and immediate, “Lulú is not to see me in this state. Stop asking.”

Sherry and Snow exchanged a look, but neither spoke further. They bowed and slipped out, leaving Nina alone.

She stayed there long after the footsteps faded. Her eyes were fixed on the crack beneath the door.

Eventually, faint steps approached, soft, hesitant.

“Hey,” a muffled whisper, “How are you?”

Could be better, Nina wanted to say. But she swallowed the words. Her voice had grown hoarse. She didn’t want Lalemana to hear it.

“I had the craziest day today. You wouldn’t believe it!” the whispering continued, "Oh, yeah. Did you see the snowman?"

You bet I did.

Lalemana spoke for a long while, her words tumbling in half-laughs and quiet sighs. Nina stayed silent, listening. The sound of that voice alone was enough to fill the cold air of the room.

Even after Lalemana’s steps faded away, Nina didn’t move. She remained in her chair, staring blankly ahead. Only when the candle finally burned out did she stir, dragging herself toward the window.

Outside, the snowman stood crooked under a lamp post, its pebble eyes uneven, one close to slipping loose. Nina pressed her hand against the glass. The cold bit her palm; her breath misted the surface, then, for a heartbeat, the snow outside was clear, white and untouched.

“Ninaaa! I can’t get it to roll! It keeps breaking apart!”

A younger voice echoed across the same garden, years ago. Lalemana lay sprawled in the snow, hair dusted white, glaring at a sad pile of snow.

Nina laughed from nearby, “You can’t give up so easily, Lulú! A crybaby’s not going to beat the Demon Queen!”

“I-I’m not crying!” Lalemana puffed her cheeks, grabbing at the snow again, “I’ll make a big snowman! Huge! You’ll see it from your room!”

“Sure you will. Here, let me—no, not like that, you’re supposed to pack it—ah, Lulú! Not on my face!”

Snow flew, chaos followed. Laughter rang through the cold air as both girls rolled down the small slope, leaving a trail of crushed snow and shrieks behind them. What they built in the end looked more like a lumpy blob than a snowman, but they were too busy laughing to care.

And just like that, the sound was gone.

Only the still, empty garden remained. The loose pebble fell from the snowman’s face, landing softly on the white ground.

Part 2

A few days later.

“There they are again,” Nina, perched by her usual window seat, pointed toward the courtyard.

Sherry leaned beside her, “Oh, yeah, Lalemana and Lady Arlenfelt. I’ve heard they’ve been getting along well.”

Below, Lalemana and Daisy made their way through the snowy garden, their breath misting in the cold.

“What’s up with that girl?” Nina muttered, pressing her face close to the glass, “How’s Lulú getting along so well with her?”

“Are you jealous?” Snow asked casually from behind, dusting the bookshelf.

“O-Of course not!” Nina turned, cheeks tinged red, “I’m just worried! That Arlenfelt girl’s an unknown!”

“From what I heard from the Royal Guard,” Sherry teased, “she’s apparently perfect. Praises all around.”

Nina puffed her cheeks, “Perfect, huh? That’s suspicious.”

“If you’re that concerned for Lalemana,” Sherry continued, “why not just let her visit you? You wouldn’t need to spy through the window every day.”

“Grrr!” Nina’s face scrunched into an exaggerated pout.

“Or maybe,” Snow said with a grin, “you could go out with them when spring comes?”

The suggestion earned her a glare so sharp she immediately went back to dusting.

“What’s she even going out for, anyway?” Nina huffed, turning back to the window. “Lulú hates winter. Can’t show off her nails if she has to wear gloves.”

“I-I’m p-pretty sure she’s s-shopping,” Snow stammered, clearly bluffing.

Watching Lalemana and Daisy disappear behind the distant walls, Sherry checked her wristwatch, “The Axis Priests should be arriving soon. You should get ready, Nina.”

“Ugh, those two...” Nina muttered. Still in her nightgown, she grabbed her crutches and made her way to her room.

A few minutes later, the scent of tea filled the hall. Sherry and Snow sat at the table, waiting. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily against the glass.

“How’d she seem today?” Sherry stirred her cup.

“More eager than usual,” Snow nibbled on a cookie, “But otherwise the same,” She sighed, watching the steam rise from her tea, “To think we had to call the Axis Church of all people... Still, they say those priests are the best when it comes to healing magic. Let’s just hope the spell they cast the other day finally starts taking effect.”

“If that priest tries that stunt again, I’ll cut his hand off, I swear!” Sherry nearly crushed her mug between her fingers, “If anyone’s touching the princess like that, it’s me—I-I mean, nobody gets to touch her!”

While Snow gave her the side eye, there came a loud, impatient knock on the door. Both women turned at once.

“Nobody’s allowed in here!” Sherry barked, her tone all steel.

“Lady Symphonia, it’s me, Prime Minister Frost!” a muffled voice replied from the other side, “I’ve brought the Axis Priests as scheduled. Please open up!”

“Yeah, open up!” another voice shouted, far too cheerfully.

“I want to see the princess!” came a third, equally uninvited.

Sherry pinched the bridge of her nose and began undoing the door’s absurd number of locks, each with its own distinct sound, a bolt, a heavy bar, three mechanical latches, and finally, a short chain that let her open just a sliver.

Minister Frost’s round face appeared in the gap, “Ah, Lady Symphonia! Radiant as always—”

“Ugh,” Sherry ignored him entirely, glaring past his shoulder at the two men beside him.

Archbishop Auberon and Arthur.

“We’re guests in the Royal Residence and we’re treated like this!” Archbishop Auberon pushed the door open, slamming Sherry’s nose, “We came here hidden in a cabbage carriage!”

“As you know, Archbishop,” Frost quickly interjected, “The agreement with the Royal Family and the Axis Church says that while we may not enter Axis Church ground, your church may not step on royal ground either. Technically, you’re here illegally. Smuggling you in was the only option.”

Arthur crossed his arms, unfazed, “Didn’t bother me. I was just thinking about the reward we’ll get once we heal the princess,” He rubbed his hands together with a greedy grin.

“Let’s not waste time,” Frost clapped, trying to move things along, “Let’s see the princess, she must be waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Minister,” Sherry snapped, raising her arm to block him, “The priests are permitted entry, but you are not,” Without giving him a chance to protest, she slammed the door shut and relocked every bolt.

“Her majesty is waiting in her chambers, I’ll go get her,” Snow went to the princess’ room.

“I’ll stay here,” Sherry muttered, unsheathed her rapier with a soft hiss, “And if either of you so much as think something improper, I’ll make sure the only thing you’ll be healing is each other!!”

A moment later, the princess appeared, moving slowly, balanced on her crutches, Snow walking a respectful distance behind.

Her attire was simple but regal, a long navy gown of fine silk, its cut modest yet elegant. A single glove, black, smooth, and reaching past the shoulder, covered her left arm entirely. Her bodice was high-collared, leaving no trace of skin exposed, and the hem of her dress brushed the floor. She looked every bit a royal, though the faint tremor in her steps betrayed her.

“Good morning, your majesty,” Archbishop Auberon vowed, “Must say you look as radiant as always!”

While the Archbishop beamed, Nina grimaced as hard as she could, “Just do your job and get out of here.”

“You heard the princess!” Sherry stepped forward, blocking their way.

Arthur raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Just… take off the glove so I can see the arm.”

He approached, her guard’s sword following every step. Nina hesitated, then slipped off the glove.

Her left arm had a strange appearance, the skin hard and gray, almost stone-like. Black veins branched beneath the surface, pulsing weakly, while her fingers ended in uneven nails. A faint shimmer flickered and died as the light touched her skin.

“I haven’t noticed any recovery,” Nina’s tone was flat, rotating her arm with clear effort.

“Hmm… curious,” Arthur muttered, tracing his hand across her arm, “Even concentrated holy water didn’t react.”

“Ah! He’s touching the princess!” Snow had to forcibly hold Sherry back.

“Has it spread further—?” Arthur began, reaching toward her face, but Nina slapped his hand away.

“You don’t need to see that,” Her voice sharpened, the words trembling slightly. She adjusted her hairband.

Arthur caught a glimpse, just enough to see the faintest shadow creeping along her jawline, where veins darkened the skin, but he wisely looked away.

“Awww, I wanted to see the princess’ body!!” Archbishop Auberon began to laugh.

“Ahhhh! I knew you Axis priests would be useless, just get out of here!!” Snow was barely able to contain the irate Sherry.

“Ahem!” Auberon straightened his posture quickly, “Well? What do you think, Artie? Am I right or am I right?”

Arthur sighed, scratching his head, “Not sure if you’re right, but it does seem I’m wrong.”

“Would you let go of my hand already?” Nina hissed.

Arthur shrugged, “I’d rather not. Even if it’s all weird and sick, a girl’s hand still feels nice. Don’t worry, princess, you’re not my type anyway. Too small.”

“T-too small?!” Sherry’s hair bristled, “The princess is perfect! Now let go of her!!”

With a single furious lunge, her rapier shot forward.

Arthur blinked, once, twice, and found the tip of her blade hovering right before his nose. He hadn’t even seen her move.

He looked up, confused, only to find Nina standing between them. She caught the weapon mid-swing, fingers gripping the blade just beyond the guard.

The steel trembled in her grasp, but she held it steady, her expression unreadable.

“Behave,” her tone cut through the silence.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!” Sherry stumbled back and dropped to her knees, bowing her head, “How could I be so foolish, my deepest apologies!”

“Aaaaaaanyway!” Archbishop Auberon clapped loudly, the sound startling everyone, “Now that everyone’s calmed down, let’s try my idea. Told you, I’ve got a nose for these things!”

Arthur exhaled, straightening up, “If you say so—”

“Let go of my hand alre—”

“It’s worth a shot,” Arthur cut her off with a grin, “Don’t worry, princess. The Archbishop’s not quite as dumb as he looks. Just mostly.”

Auberon ignored the jab, circling Nina as she tugged her glove back on, “Back when we last met, your majesty, you mentioned this… condition was spreading, yes? How far now?”

Before Nina could answer, Snow quickly interjected, “Y-Yes, it’s spreading to the right side of her body as well.”

“Troublesome, most troublesome,” Archbishop Auberon began walking around the princess, “But not unexpected, I believe this proves my theory…Hey, Artie you done yet?”

“Yeah, I think this is good enough,” a few steps away, Arthur rose to his feet, holding a piece of chalk in his hand, a large magic circle drawn on the floor.

“How dare you doodle on the princess’—!” Sherry clamped her hand over her mouth before finishing that thought.

“Yeah, this should do the trick.”

“An exorcism?” Nina arched an eyebrow as she limped toward the circle, “Eris priests already tried. No results.”

“Ha! Of course those losers wouldn’t be able to do anything, they wouldn’t be able to see a curse if it bit them in the ass!” Archbishop Auberon began laughing, Arthur doing much of the same.

With an irritated sigh, Nina sat at the circle’s center. Auberon and Arthur stood opposite each other, raising their hands.

“All right, Artie. Ready?”

“You bet!” Arthur grinned as both began chanting. Magic gathered in their palms, flooding the room with blinding light.

“Brace yourself, Your Majesty! This may take several attempts!” Archbishop Auberon warned, “Holy Exorcism!”

The light swallowed everything.

Hours later.

The chamber was hazy, filled with thin white smoke that shimmered in the lingering traces of holy energy. Arthur knelt on the floor, drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged.

“I-I’m out of mana… can’t keep doing this…”

“Indeed,” Archbishop Auberon said, fanning himself with his hat, “A good day’s work, wouldn’t you say?”

Nina sat silently in the circle’s center, glove off, examining her hand. The skin remained dull and gray, the veins still black and stark, “I see no changes.”

“It may be so for now,” Auberon took a deep sniff of the smoky air, “but I can smell it, faint, nearly imperceptible, yet there. The scent of a curse!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Snow snapped, “We’ve had priests from half the continent examine her! She’s even been fully submerged in holy water with no effect!”

“Yes, yes, most odd indeed!” Auberon twirled his mustache excitedly, “A curse so potent it resists both Lady Aqua’s holy water and our magic! But I’m certain we’re on the right track. A few dozen more sessions and we’ll chip it away bit by bit!”

“Do me a favor and start chipping somewhere else,” Nina deadpanned.

“Alas, Artie and I are spent,” Auberon ignored her tone, “We shall return in a few days, fully restored, and continue from there!”

“I truly hope you won’t,” she muttered.

Arthur, already halfway to the door, waved weakly, “Not sure if it’s a disease or a curse, but we’ll fix it. We’ve got Lady Aqua on our side, after all!”

Sherry immediately began unlocking the door, “I’ll escort you out. Keep your mouths shut, nobody’s to know you were here or about the princess’ condition.”

The priests stumbled out, muttering about payment and cabbage carriages.

Nina sighed, turning toward the window, her reflection pale in the glass, “Do you think Lulú and the Arlenfelt girl are back yet?”

Part 3

“I think this one will be perfect,” Snow held up a fine dress.

“No, no, that doesn’t flatter her figure at all! This one will do,” Sherry yanked out another dress, nearly toppling the wardrobe.

“I am not going to that event,” Nina said flatly, sitting on her bed while staring at the moonlit garden beyond the window, “And there’s nothing you can do to force me. I just want this cursed winter to end so I can tend my plants. Sherry already killed more than the cold did.”

Sherry hid behind the wardrobe door. Snow, undeterred, sighed, “Nina, this event is vital. The kingdom needs the funds for the war effort. Nobles from all over are attending, some traveled here just to meet you.”

“And what will they do if I don’t go?” Nina scoffed, “Stop funding the army? Whatever money they save won’t save them from the Demon Queen. They’re vultures, all they want are favors and positions. The only blessing in my condition is that I no longer have to smile at them,” She turned slightly, her tone softening, “Besides, I’m corresponding with Princess Evelyn and Princess Wendolyne. Elroad’s support will hold. That’s what matters.”

“Well, Lalemana is going,” Sherry teased, “Or so Lady Marcella told me when I ran into her. It’d be nice if you two could spend time together.”

Nina’s expression flickered, “No. It’s not the time. She seems better since that Arlenfelt girl arrived, I won’t get in their way.”

Sherry and Snow exchanged looks.

“Nina,” Snow spoke carefully, “your father personally requested your presence. It will look bad if he attends without you at his side.”

“My father can handle a few snobby nobles… but,” Nina turned toward Snow, “I want you to go in my stead. Keep me posted on what happens.”

“Huh!?”

“And that’s an order,” Nina added with a sly smile, “Put on that dress and get ready quickly. The ball should be starting soon. Perhaps wear one of those gaudy masks. We wouldn’t want Lulú spotting you. Though, without me around, I’m sure her suitors will keep her plenty busy.”

“B-but—!”

“You know, I’ve a mountain of letters to send. Most of their recipients will be there anyway, so why not deliver them directly? Think of it as if I were there myself, problem solved.”

Snow opened her mouth, closed it again, then resigned herself to the inevitable.

Several hours later, the sound of distant music drifted faintly, soft strings and laughter echoing through the halls. Nina sat by the window, the pale light of chandeliers spilling faintly over the snow outside.

“You can turn in for the day, Sherry. Snow will be exhausted by the time she returns. Better she finds you waiting.”

“Umm… it’s still a bit too early, I think,” Sherry was uncertain.

“It’s fine. The castle’s crawling with guards tonight, and I’d like a moment alone.”

Sherry hesitated before bowing, “Goodnight, Nina.”

The door clicked shut, the locks humming faintly as it sealed.

Moments later, the sound of the main gates echoed faintly through the courtyard. Nina peered from her window just in time to catch sight of two familiar silhouettes stepping into the snow, Lalemana and her new companion.

Below, the girls exchanged a few words before Lalemana scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it. The startled shriek that followed made Nina’s lips twitch. The two tumbled into a snowball skirmish, laughing under the light.

Nina lingered longer than she meant to. Eventually, she sighed and reached for her crutches, “She’s not coming tonight. Not after all that fun.”

Then came the sound of a sudden sneeze, loud enough to echo through the corridor.

“Heh… are you okkay?” a muffled voice called through the door, followed by a wet sniff. “I tink I got sick…”

Nina pressed a hand to her lips, trying not to laugh as Lalemana rambled on and on.

Part 4

“Now, take plenty of sunlight so you can grow nice and healthy,” Nina spoke warmly to the flowers, “You’ve been patient all winter, haven’t you?”

The garden glowed with new life. The snow had long melted, leaving a sea of green and color beneath a clear spring sky. The space was vast for a private terrace, iron fencing ringed the edges, shrouded by high hedges that shielded the garden from view. At the center stood a rain pavilion with a small round table and chairs beneath it, surrounded by flowering beds, rows of small trees, trays of herbs, and a corner devoted entirely to bonsai.

Nina moved among them with her grace, or what was left of it. Every step on her crutches drew a soft creak, her body thinner now, her arms trembling faintly as she leaned. The dark marks had crept further up her right side, snaking just below her collarbone.

“Nina,” Snow called gently, stepping through the door with a tray, “It’s time for your medicine.”

Nina turned, trying to hide her grimace.

“Don’t make that face. You’ve grown thinner, I can tell. Come on, eat, too.”

“Ugh, fine,” Nina sighed, tossing back her medicine with the indifference of someone taking a bad drink, “Happy?”

Snow smiled softly, “Delighted.”

“Good. Then I’ll get back to real work,” Nina turned again toward her plants, brushing her hand along a newly budding rose, “You’re doing far better than I am,” she muttered to it.

“Nina, something for you!” Sherry’s voice rang from the main room.

On the table sat a large wooden crate.

“What is this?” Nina asked, moving slowly toward it.

“I’m not sure,” Sherry began prying open the top, “It’s from Minister Frost. Said it was a get-well gift, and that you’d ‘get it.’”

Inside was a large birdcage. Perched within was a magnificent white bird, long-legged, elegant, its feathers shimmering faintly with blue hues under the light.

“A bird?” Snow tilted her head, leaning closer.

“It’s beautiful,” Sherry breathed, “But why a bird? Is it magical or something?”

The creature chirped softly, tilting its head at them with gentle curiosity.

“You could say that,” Nina said after a pause, her voice unreadable, “That’s a Caladrius. They’re very rare, found only in the valleys of the Elroad Alps.”

Both women turned toward her.

“He sent me a bird that shouldn’t be here,” Nina murmured, “I always wanted to see one, but not… like this,” her gaze hardened as she studied the cage, “Take care of it, Snow. It eats berries. See that it has enough.”

She turned and left for the garden without another word.

Snow and Sherry exchanged puzzled looks, but neither commented.

The bird, meanwhile, remained perfectly still, bright-eyed and chirping at them, but when Nina had looked at it, it hadn’t moved. Not once.

That night.

Nina sat beside her door, the moonlight filtering through the windows. Across the room, the Caladrius stood motionless on its perch, feathers gleaming like frost.

She watched it for a long time.

Then came the familiar sound of steps outside, slower than usual.

“Every fiber in my body is screaming in pain,” came Lalemana’s muffled voice, “I hope the warm spring air will make you feel better.”

It still hadn’t looked at her.

Nina turned to see the bird once again. Her reflection wavered in the glass behind the cage, and her gaze softened.

Then, she remembered.

“Yaaah!”

Nina swung hard, her flail’s wooden ball whistling through the air before colliding against Lalemana’s wooden sword. The impact rattled through the young girl’s arms, sending her weapon flying into the dirt.

Lalemana staggered back and dropped to one knee, gasping, bruises blooming across her forearms.

“You’re lowering your guard again!” Nina barked between breaths, her flail’s chain clinking as it coiled back into her grasp. Sweat dripped down her temple, the spring sun blazing high above the training grounds.

Lalemana retrieved her wooden sword and took her stance again, expression tightening, “I won’t this time!”

“Oh? Let’s see it then!”

They circled each other, the flail was heavy but Nina swung it as if it were an extension of her own arm, the chain tracing sharp arcs that hissed through the air. Lalemana darted in, ducking the first swing and sidestepping the second. Her wooden blade cut upward, grazing the hem of Nina’s sleeve.

“That’s better!” Nina grinned.

Lalemana pressed the attack, forcing Nina back. Each strike was precise, trained, but at the very last second, always, the edge of her blow softened. Her wrists slowed, the intent faltered.

Nina saw it. She always saw it.

She twisted her wrist, the chain tightening mid-swing, “Got you!”

Nina swung her flail in a wide arc. The ball collided with Lalemana and sent her sprawling onto the ground.

“All right girls, take a break,” a booming voice cut through the tension.

Both turned as a veteran appeared, his white hair pulled back, his scarred face softened by a rare, fatherly smile.

“You’re too soft on them, old man! The princess is fine, but that puppy is weak! You’ll never toughen her up by treating her like that!”

“Mireya,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I trained you the same way, and you turned out fine, didn’t you? Lady Dustiness has potential, I’m sure you’ll be able to exploit her full potential once you become her mentor—”

Mireya crossed her arms, “Don’t give me that, you coddler!”

“Girls, take a break before she bites my head off,” he said with a grin, gesturing toward a bench beneath a cherry tree.

The two young girls obeyed.

Nina sat first, fanning herself with one hand. Petals fell around her, pink specks against her hair, “Crazy that not even Master Alrulus can handle Mireya,” she turned to see Lalemana, “I don’t get it, Lulú. Why don’t you fight seriously? You could’ve had me twice, but you always pull back at the last moment.”

Lalemana didn’t answer right away. She was still catching her breath, hands clenched in the fabric of her skirt.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

For a moment, Nina’s hand hovered over Lalemana’s shoulder. But she drew it back.

A breeze rustled the petals between them. The sound of Mireya yelling at Alrulus filled the distance.

Neither spoke again.

The memory faded like falling blossoms, and Nina found herself once more in her dim chamber. The Caladrius was still awake, white feathers gleaming faintly, its black eyes fixed on the moon.

Part 5

The next morning.

“All right, birdy,” Sherry said as she poured a small handful of feed into the cage, “I don’t know what your deal is, but I need you to cure the princess.”

The Caladrius tilted its head, chirping cheerfully as it pecked. Its feathers shimmered faintly in the light, almost too white for the eye.

“You know,” Sherry stretched her shoulders, “I’ve been having some soreness lately, but today I woke up feeling terrific. Maybe you are helping, huh?”

Her words froze the moment she looked up.

Nina was standing at the far end of the garden, dressed in light training clothes. The morning breeze played with her hair as she leaned heavily on her crutches, a flail gripped in her right hand.

“Spare with me.”

“Um… no,” Sherry answered immediately, “No way.”

“I haven’t practiced in months,” Nina ignored her, “I’m rusty. My muscles are stiff. I need to stretch,” her leg trembled, but her grip on the flail was steady. “Spare with me.”

“Nina, you’re in no condi—”

“Don’t you dare pity me,” Nina’s raised her arm, her whole body shaking, “I can very much take you on.”

A single swing sent a gust through the garden. The flail’s chain rattled, the iron ball whistling past the flowerbeds. Leaves scattered in the air, circling her like a small storm.

“Absolutely not!” Snow’s voice came from behind as she hurried forward, a basket of fruit still in her hands, “Nina, you mustn’t—!”

“I’m sorry, since when do you two give me orders?” She slammed the flail into the ground. The stone cracked, “I am the princess of this country. Now, draw your sword.”

An uneasy silence filled the garden, broken only by the Caladrius chirps.

Sherry sighed, unsheathing her rapier, “Three touches, after that, you’ll sit next to the bird and let it heal you. Deal?”

Nina smirked.

The flail moved first, whipping forward with a hiss. Sherry darted to the side, her rapier gleaming as she tapped the chain midair and slipped through the opening.

“That’s one,” Her voice came from behind Nina, the tip of her blade brushing the back of the princess’ neck.

Nina spun, eyes blazing, the chain snapping like a whip. The flail tore through the air, forcing Sherry to leap back as petals burst upward in a swirl of color. Snow squeaked and ducked behind a pillar.

“That’s two,” Sherry’s voice steady but her eyes tense. She reappeared beside Nina, the blade resting lightly against her ribs, “Enough, Nina. You’re pushing too hard.”

Nina’s breath was ragged. Her pale face glistened with sweat, her arms trembling. Still, she refused to yield, “We’re done when I say we’re done.”

She raised her arm again, only for Sherry to nudge one of the crutches with her boot. Nina stumbled forward, the flail clattering against the stones. Sherry caught her before she hit the ground.

“I hope you finally understand—”

“She passed out,” Sherry stood up, carrying Nina in her arms, “Got a fever too.”

The Caladrius chirped from its cage, head tilted, watching as they disappeared through the door.

“Please don’t let this get to your head”, “…Wait until my little sister hears about this!”

Voices, muffled and disjointed. Laughter. The clatter of armor.

“…fall back!”, “Everyone take cover!”

And then silence.

Nina could hear her own heartbeat echoing in the dark.

“…I entrust you with this now,” a familiar, weathered voice, fading away, “Fill the rest of the pages for me.”

“Ahhhh!” Nina woke with a strangled cry. Her body convulsed as she clutched her ribs, the pain stabbing deep enough to tear a scream from her throat. Black bile trickled from the corners of her mouth as she tried to breathe.

“Nina! Nina!” Voices reached her faintly, distant through the haze.

Her vision blurred.

A hand forced her mouth open. Bitter liquid poured down her throat. For a long, suffocating moment, the pain refused to fade, then, slowly, it receded.

“Wh… what happened…?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“You passed out after sparring with Sherry,” came a faint reply, “You’ve been out for hours. We just gave you a megalixir…”

She didn’t hear the rest.

The next day.

The world came into focus slowly. Nina blinked, wincing at the light. Her body felt heavy, her throat dry.

“Good morning, Nina,” Snow stood at her bedside, “Breakfast is ready, or rather, lunch. You slept through the morning.”

“…ugh…”

Sherry entered, holding something behind her back, “Nina, I think it’s time we start using this.”

She revealed a wheelchair.

Nina’s expression hardened immediately, “For as long as I can walk, I will walk,” she reached for her crutches, forcing herself upright.

Snow hesitated, then quietly pushed the chair aside and helped her balance.

Later that afternoon, after tending to her flowers, Nina sat beneath the pavilion. A worn, half-burned ledger rested on her lap. She’d been staring at it for a long while, sighing every few minutes.

Snow worked quietly inside, and Sherry stood by the door, arms crossed, watching over her. The Caladrius’ cage had attracted a crowd of small birds, their chirping rising in chaotic harmony.

Nina brushed a finger over the charred edge of the ledger and opened it, “Okay, Master Alrulus,” she murmured. “Let’s see what nonsense you left me.”

Part 6

“The heat is killing me,” Sherry complained, fanning herself under the pavilion.

Nina, wearing a wide straw hat and light gloves, knelt among the flowers. Her movements were slower than before, careful and deliberate. The sun beat down mercilessly, drawing a wavering haze from the stone paths. Even the air shimmered, thick with the scent of blooming lilies and hot earth.

“Plants don’t grow without a little suffering,” Nina’s tone half-playful, half-tired. She sprinkled water over a patch of delicate blue irises, pausing to wipe her brow.

“Please take a rest, Nina,” Sherry returned with a silver tray and a sweating glass of lemonade, “Sherry will water the plants. It’s far too hot for you to be out here. Sit by the caladrius, if you will.”

“What? Why me—!?”

“Fine,” Nina sighed, cutting herself off. She drank deeply, her pale skin glistening despite the heat. Standing took a moment longer than it should have, “Make sure the azaleas only get a little water, or they’ll wilt. The lavender can take more, and the white roses, don’t water them until sunset, the roots burn easily.”

Sherry nodded quickly, trying to write everything down, “U-understood!”

Nina walked back indoors, leaning on her crutches. Her steps echoed faintly against the marble. From her window seat, she could see the main garden below, the caladrius turning its head lazily toward the light.

On the table beside her lay the worn leather ledger, she opened it to the bookmarked page.

[April 28th

Man, what a heavy day. The princess is improving too fast for her own good. That flail hurts.

I’ll say though, she’s got instincts. She’ll do well once she’s on the battlefield. Still don’t get why she has to fight though. Call me old-fashioned, but princesses should stay nice and safe in the castle.

The King’s holding the front just fine anyway. Try getting her to understand.

Not that I’m not looking forward to going back myself, just not for fighting. There’s plenty of faces I’d like to see again. Friends, mostly. I just want to make sure the princess will be in good hands.

Good day overall. Ate some nice veal. Lost another bet to Mireya, I’m running out of money…]

He was such an awful writer, this goes nowhere, Nina thought as she quickly scanned the remaining pages, there were maybe a few dozen extra pages written.

A few weeks later.

The afternoon sun was weaker now, slanting in gold through the same window. Nina sat in her chair, staring absently toward the horizon.

“...Say, Sherry. Today’s your father’s birthday, isn’t it?”

“Huh? Y–yeah, I sent him a card this morning.”

“Go see him, give him my regards. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“I-I can’t just leave my post. I’m supposed to guard you at all times—”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Nina smiled faintly, “Snow will stay with me. Go celebrate your father.”

Sherry hesitated, then turned to Snow, who gave her an approving wink.

“O-okay! I’ll come back before it gets too late! Thanks, Nina!”

Her footsteps faded quickly down the hall.

Snow arrived soon after with a tea tray, “Here’s some jasmine, freshly steeped.”

“Thank you,” Nina reached out, but her hand drifted slightly to the left, missing the cup. A second attempt knocked it over. The porcelain shattered, and tea bled across the floor, “Ah—!!”

Her hand jerked, and she coughed suddenly, a deep, wet sound that made her whole body shudder. Something black splattered against her palm and the floor. Snow was already pulling a crystal vial from her apron.

“Nina!”

The liquid inside glowed faintly, a megalixir. Snow uncorked it and pressed it to Nina’s lips. Nina swallowed, then winced, gripping the chair’s armrest as the potion took hold.

It dulled the pain but didn’t erase it. The magic’s shimmer faded faster than it should have.

“...They’re losing effect,” Nina wiped her mouth, “Take me to bed…I’m…really tired…”

Snow dabbed a cloth over Nina’s forehead after laying her on the bed; her breath was shallow, her skin hot to the touch.

“Nina, please rest,” Snow whispered.

But Nina’s lips moved faintly, as if chasing the echo of a dream.

“We attacked… that night…”

And just like that, the room fell away.

“Listen, we’ll break through here,” Nina’s gauntlet tapped the map, her voice sharp and confident. A dozen officers leaned in, “With the lake on the east, we trap their commander. Cavalry will spearhead the charge. The heavy armors will hold the western flank and box them in. Rifles and cannons behind them, constant fire. We’ll use the river to the west in case we need to retreat, make sure there are plenty of boats. What’s the status of the griffins?”

“Not fully healed, Your Majesty,” said a middle-aged woman with cropped hair, “Only two can fly, but they can’t fight yet, at most they’ll be able to move cargo.”

“Then they’ll serve as our trump card. Load them with kaboom-infused gems,” Nina crossed her arms, “If things go south, we’ll turn the entire valley into a crater. If there are no objections, that’s our plan.”

Silence. A few glances exchanged.

“Your Majesty,” the intelligence adjusted his glasses, “scouts report an unidentified creature advancing from the northwest. It cut through our defenses, ignored civilians and scouts. It’s not behaving like anything we’ve seen before.”

“It ignored them?” Nina frowned.

“The mages engaged from a distance. Spells had no effect. The creature didn’t retaliate either.”

“It must be coming to support our enemies, more reason to act quickly. When is it expected to arrive?”

“From when the scouts last saw it, at least a couple of days.”

“Then we move before it arrives,” Nina slammed a marker onto the map, “If it’s not with them, it’s something worse, and I won’t let it find us unprepared.”

Alrulus, standing beside her, folded his arms, “We should wait for reinforcements, or at least until the griffins are combat ready for air support. I’ve seen too many ‘invincible’ creatures in my time. Those that get cocky don’t live to brag about it.”

“We can’t wait, master,” Nina’s tone softened for just a heartbeat, “If we stall, we lose the refugees. We lose the villages we just reclaimed. Every delay costs lives,” Her blue eyes flared again, “We move tonight.”

Alrulus sighed, the sound of an old man who’d fought too many lost causes, “You always did get that look from your mother.”

She smiled faintly, “And her stubbornness.”

“Too right.”

The officers saluted, “Glory to the crown!”

“Glory,” Nina echoed, eyes unfocused. The word rasped in her throat. Snow pressed another damp towel to her lips.

“Nina, please stop talking—”

But the fever had already pulled her back.

The camp was alive with motion. Tents fluttered, armor clanged, the scent of oil and gunpowder hung in the air. Wounded soldiers shared rations with recruits too nervous to eat.

“Oh dear, just when did you get so full of yourself?” Alrulus muttered as he matched Nina’s brisk stride.

“After nine victories in a row,” she teased. She was radiant, armor gleaming silver-blue, her long ice-blonde hair tied up with a golden clasp. Even covered in steel, she carried herself like royalty, “We can win this, I’m pretty confident, whatever that monster coming here is won’t be an issue, it’ll be too late anyway.”

They entered the command tent.

“Finally! The food’s been getting cold!” bellowed a young man with a massive shield strapped to his back, “I don’t even wait for my little sister!”

“You’re insufferable even when your mouth’s full,” a priest replied, lazily flicking a piece of meat on his plate. His tone was flat, his smirk infuriating, “If you died mid-battle, I’d finally get to eat in peace.”

“Say that again, you smug little—”

“Gris! Mira! Enough!” a woman in unusually revealing armor stepped between them, “The princess is here. Sit down and behave, both of you.”

“Yes, thanks, Kaela,” Nina’s eyes swept over the group as she sat at the head of the table, “Two questions. Where’s Tess, and… where’s the rest of your armor?”

“I’m right here!” a small girl under a towering witch’s hat peeked over a massive book, “I was reading my new grimoire, but don’t worry, I’ll be ready for tonight!”

Kaela’s face reddened, “Parts of my armor flew off during sparring. The squires are… recovering the pieces.”

Alrulus exhaled and took his seat, opening his journal, “The princess is going to brute-force her plan, so we proceed as we talked last night. We stay behind the cavalry lines. Kaela scouts ahead. Gris guards the princess directly, alongside me. Mira and Tess stay close, aiding the battle as needed.”

“Hahaha! I can’t wait!” Gris shoved a chunk of meat in his mouth, “I’ll write my little sister a letter before we set off! This will be glorious!”

“You mean a posthumous one,” Mira murmured.

“You want a posthumous punch!?”

“It’s exciting, though,” Tess chimed, flipping through her grimoire, “This is our biggest fight in months. Look at how much ground we’ve regained since the princess took command!”

“I’ve been wondering Master Alrulus,” Kaela tied her hair in a ponytail, “What are you always writing? I’ve seen you write in that journal everyday since you got here.”

“I don’t want to sound cliché, but I love writing,” Alrulus grinned, closing the journal, “And I think I’m watching history happen right before my eyes. It has to be recorded. The princess can defeat the Demon Queen, and I’ll make sure I have a front-row seat. Besides, once the war ends, I’ll need to make money somehow… a novel sounds perfect! Wahahahaha!”

“This will be a night to remember for sure,” Nina winked.

“...It was,” Nina breathed, barely conscious now.

Snow’s hand froze mid-motion, “Nina?”

Nina’s eyes flickered, seeing something that wasn’t there. “A night to remember…” she murmured again, voice trembling between pride and pain.

“Horyaaaaaa!!” Nina’s shout tore through the air as her flail slammed into a stone golem’s chest, the impact shattering its torso. The chain recoiled, whistling back into her gauntlet as the battle raged around her, smoke, light, screams, the stench of burning.

“Push forward! We’re near the lake, our cavalry’s almost at their commander!”

The troops around her roared back in triumph and surged ahead. Then the ground trembled. A second later, an explosion tore through the night, showering the field in dirt and fire.

A roar followed, low and guttural.

Soldiers froze, eyes wide. Then came the screaming.

Not long after, a couple of red flares appeared in the sky.

“Retreat?” Alrulus caught up to Nina, “What’s going on up there?”

“Like hell we’re retreating!” Nina shot back, sprinting ahead, only for a spear to crash into the dirt in front of her.

Kaela landed a second later, several pieces of armor missing, “Princess! It’s chaos up there! Some kind of monster came out of the woods, cut through both lines! We nearly reached the lake but…” She swallowed hard, “We got heavy losses!”

Nina hesitated, just for a second. Then she clenched her flail, “We take it down. Now.”

Alrulus cursed under his breath, drawing his broadsword as he and Kaela followed her into the smoke.

“Your Majesty, please, your heart is racing—”

“Wait… wait…” Nina’s voice was faint, delirious. “I can still… see it…”

Snow froze as the princess’s lips moved

The monster loomed ahead.

Four meters tall, its body wrapped in plates of glowing blue armor that pulsed. Three toed feet rooted it to the ground, horns curving skyward like blades, and from its hands hung two massive scimitars that seemed too heavy even for its frame, each one as long as a wagon.

Its three eyes turned toward Nina. Then it roared, so loud the air itself seemed to shatter. Pebbles bounced, soldiers staggered, the sky flickered white with the force of it.

“What the hell is this thing?” Nina got her flail ready.

“It’s the monster that was heading this way, somehow it got here much earlier than anticipated! I saw Wizards fire magic point blank at it without even making it flinch!” Kaela catched up.

“Oh, you knew about our new friend already,” came a voice from the haze.

A woman-like demon stepped out, her skin rough like scales, her hair alive with writhing serpents. Her eyes glowed yellow, pupils vertical slits; her grin showed jagged teeth. Rows of golems and undead behind her.

“Erisiviel,” Nina spat, her tone like poison.

“Oh, the princess remembers me? What an honor,” the demon grinned, “It’s such a shame your story ends here, with—”

Before she could finish, the monster cleaved her in two.

There wasn’t even time to scream. Erisiviel’s body hit the dirt, and in the same motion, the creature turned and carved through her troops, shattering them like toys.

“What the hell!?” Kaela shouted, nearly dropping her spear, “It just killed its allies!”

“That thing’s lost control,” Alrulus readied his stance, “Princess, we should retreat, this isn’t natural.”

“We spent months fighting back Erisiviel only for that thing to slice her in one go, we can’t just let it roam free, we have to take it down here and now!”

The monster raised its twin blades high.

“Parry!” Nina shouted, and her flail glowed bright white. The impact shook the field as metal struck, the force rippled outward, knocking soldiers off their feet.

Alrulus and Kaela lunged in. Kaela leapt, spear plunging into the creature’s shoulder, like fireworks. Alrulus went low, slashing across its torso sparks bursting on impact.

“I don’t know what it’s made off, but it's really tough, it chipped the blade of my sword,” Alrulus and Kaela stepped back.

Nina bit her lip, “Buy me some time, I’ll try something out!” the chain of her flail began extending as the ball moved around Nina, lighting up a magic circle as she began to chant.

Before the monster could move again, two magic circles flared under its feet.

“Hexfall!” Tess’s voice rang through the smoke, her hat tilted low as the magic circle expanded.

“Sacred Break Spell!” Mira followed, staff raised high, light surging upward in a column that made the beast howl.

“Wait for all your allies! It’s hard to run with this huge shield you know!?” Gris caught up to them.

“Sacred Lightning Flare!” Nina pushed her hands forward, making a giant beam of light descend from the heavens, completely covering the monster as it roared in pain.

“Fullheal!” with another spell Mira got everyone ready, “Aaaand Blessing!”

When the smoke cleared, the creature stood again, its armor gone, body raw and light brown, steaming where divine light scorched it.

“It shed its armor!” Tess yelled, “Its body’s exposed, now’s our chance!”

“Then let’s make it count!” Gris charged in first, slamming his shield into the monster’s chest with enough force to shake the ground. The creature staggered backward, pinned against its own weight.

Kaela didn’t waste the opening, “Hraaah!” Her spear flashed, tearing clean through one of the monster’s arms. The limb disintegrated, as a blue flame emerged from the open wound.

The monster howled in rage, lashing out with its remaining sword. The blow struck Gris full on, hurling him back and shattering his guard, “Not bad,” he grunted, blood running down his lip.

Before the monster could finish him, Nina’s flail shot forward, the chain coiling around its wrist and yanking the massive blade off course.

Alrulus’s sword ignited crimson, “Ruby-Eye Sword!” he swung upward, cutting through the monster’s other arm.

Tess’s voice rose over the chaos, her grimoire glowing, “Cursed Crystal Prison!”

Pillars of ice erupted from the ground, locking the monster’s legs in place just long enough for Nina to gather her strength. Her gauntlet burned bright, magic circles flaring along her arm.

“Sacred Exploooooooooooode!”

The flail struck true, smashing into the monster’s head with a burst of pure light. For a heartbeat, the world went white.

When the glow faded, the creature’s body was falling apart, blue flames bursting from its torso, its head gone, its arms nothing but fire.

“Hahahahaha! And we’re victorious again!” Gris bellowed, throwing his arms up. “Wait until my sister hears about this one!”

Around them, the troops cheered, clashing swords against shields in triumph.

The light in her room flared, then dimmed again. Snow gasped as the feverish princess stirred, her lips trembling.

“It wasn’t… over,” Nina whispered. Her voice was so faint Snow had to lean in to hear.

“What… wasn’t over?”

Nina’s eyes opened slightly, pupils dilated, unfocused, “The flames… didn’t die…”

Outside, the wind howled.

And somewhere in her memory, the blue fire still burned.

“Hahahahaha! And we’re victorious again! Wait until my little sister hears about this!” Gris dropped his shield, lifting his arms in celebration. The soldiers around him joined in, their cheers echoing across the lakeside.

Nina stayed still, hands on her knees, breathing heavily before letting out a tired smile. The monster’s corpse still burned blue in the night, its strange fire refusing to die out.

“Please don’t let this get to your head,” Alrulus patted her on the back, “I’ve never seen or heard of a monster like this before. If the Demon Queen has more of them—”

“Then we’ll just keep cutting them down,” Nina straightened up, “Scout the area. Make sure there are no enemies around, and gather our fallen. They deserve a proper—”

Her words froze as Kaela grabbed her by the waist and leapt backward, just as a massive pair of jaws burst from the monster’s chest, snapping shut where Nina stood.

The monster’s burned body convulsed and twisted, its color turning a sickly green. A distorted face bulged out from its chest, two glaring eyes, a dripping maw.

“It’s still alive!?” Mira shouted in disbelief. The monster spat a glob of acid at him, hissing as it melted through the stone beneath his feet.

“Fall back—!” Alrulus shouted, but his words were drowned out by the creature’s next roar.

It wasn’t a sound, it was a force. A wave of screams and wails layered into one, echoing not through the air but directly in their skulls. Soldiers clutched their heads, blood running from their noses and ears as their knees buckled.

“Cursed Lightning!” Tess yelled, flinging her staff forward. Bolts of dark lightning struck the beast, only to vanish into its body.

The fires in its severed sockets extinguished. In their place, new limbs sprouted, massive, jagged, ending in four black claws. It swung once, and the shockwave sent dozens of soldiers flying.

“Everyone, regroup!” Nina barked, tearing herself free from Kaela’s grasp.

The monster convulsed, its torso twisting as a new head emerged, crowned with curved horns and fanged jaws. Both mouths opened and roared in unison, sending a storm of fireballs into the sky.

“Those are Inferno Fireballs!” Tess screamed, “Everyone take cover!”

The fireballs exploded midair, showering the entire battlefield in smaller embers, lighting the surrounding forest ablaze.

Kaela charged first, her spear flashing silver—then, in an instant, was gone. The creature’s claw swung, and she vanished into the fire and smoke without a sound.

“Kaela!” Nina shouted, her heart seizing.

The beast raised both heads, energy swelling in their throats before they fired twin beams of light.

“Brace yourselves!” Alrulus shouted.

The creature unleashed a twin barrage of energy, one beam sweeping left to right, the other cutting the opposite arc. The two crossed through the battlefield like scythes.

Nina dove aside, but the blast grazed one of her legs. She hit the ground hard, numbness spreading through her body. The other beam carved into the hill behind them, detonating in a huge explosion that threw soldiers and debris into the air.

“Nina!” Alrulus rushed to her side, just as the monster’s arms spread wide, a dark shimmer pulsing across its chest.

“Wait, no, that’s—!” Tess’s voice cracked, The pulse erupted outward, a wave of distorted magic rippling across the field, “Disruption Wave!”

The shock struck everyone at once. Barriers shattered like glass. The glow of magic circles and blessings flickered out. Armor lost its shimmer, turning dull and heavy. Mages and Priests screamed as their staves and wands exploded in their hands.

Tess fell to her knees, staring at the faded grimoire.

Mira hissed under his breath, clutching his burned hand, “You’ve got to be kidding me—!”

The monster roared again, its claws digging into the ground as it advanced.

Nina struggled to pull herself up, reaching for her belt, her fingers closing around the signal flares, “Yellow flare!” she gasped, “Master, signal general retreat—!”

Alrulus took it, firing it skyward with a snap of his wrist. The yellow light cut through the firestorm above.

The monster’s eyes flashed. A bolt of green light lanced out and struck Nina in the chest. It didn’t pierce or burn, it simply sank in.

“Princess—!” Alrulus shouted, blade igniting crimson.

The monster lunged. One massive claw descended—

—and Gris appeared between them, shield-first. The impact shattered it instantly, the shockwave sending dust and blood into the air.

“Gris!!” Mira screamed, rushing forward.

The monster’s claw tore through Gris’s armor, slamming him to one knee. The blow’s aftershock sent Alrulus skidding back, his arm hanging limp at his side as he carried Nina over his shoulder.

Gris coughed, blood trailing from his lips.

“Don’t move!” Mira snapped, trying to heal him, but his magic fizzled uselessly.

As the two of them argued, Tess rose shakily, blood running down her face. She lifted her broken grimoire and forced a last spell, “Cursed Crystal—!”

The monster’s claw pierced through her chest before she could finish. Her spell died with her voice.

Gris turned halfway, blood streaming down his face but still wearing that crooked grin. “Hey, Mira. Remember when you said I had more muscle than sense?”

Mira clenched his jaw, “Now’s not the time—”

“You were right,” He slammed his battered shield into the ground, raising his arms,  “Decoy!”

His body lit up. The monster’s gaze snapped toward him instantly, both heads and five eyes twisting to focus on the lone Hoplite standing before them.

The monster’s roar shook the air. Gris laughed right back at it, “Come on, ugly! Over here!”

Mira glanced back and nodded, “Get her out of here.”

Nina stirred weakly, her voice barely a whisper. “No… we can still fight… we can still—”

Alrulus’s face twisted, but he didn’t answer. He turned and ran, boots pounding over broken ground.

Behind them, Gris and Mira moved in sync for the first time in their lives.

“Alright, genius,” Mira muttered, summoning what little magic he could still muster. “You take the bottom, I’ll blind the top.”

“Just make sure it hurts.”

“Always do.”

Mira raised his cracked staff; it sparked once, twice, before bursting in his hands. A blinding flash of light seared across the monster’s eyes. Gris charged through the glow, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Cover the princess!” someone shouted, “Get Her Highness out of here!” “Form a line! Don’t let it through!” “Protect Lady Antonina!”

The last of Nina’s commanders, bloodied, limping, half their armor gone, rushed to form ranks between her and the monster.

“No!” Nina’s voice was faint but urgent, “Let me fight… I can still…”

“Enough,” Alrulus growled, tightening his hold as he stumbled over the uneven ground.

Alrulus didn’t look back. He could barely stand, his arm hanging uselessly, but he kept going.

Another blast hit the ground nearby, throwing him and Nina off their feet. The shockwave tore through the trees and sent her tumbling into darkness.

When she came to, the world was quiet, except for the distant rumble of battle.

Alrulus staggered through the forest, face bloodied, one eye swollen shut. He carried Nina over his shoulder, every step leaving a trail of red. The forest behind them glowed with fire and lightning.

He reached the riverbank. A single boat bobbed, the last escape craft.

He laid Nina inside gently, brushing her hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open for an instant.

He pulled a small ledger from his coat, pressing it into her hands, “…I entrust you with this now, fill the rest of the pages for me.”

“Wait—” she reached weakly for him.

He smiled faintly.

From her belt, he took the white flare. Raising it high as the monster’s distant roar echoed closer, “Forgive me,” he murmured, firing it into the sky and kicking the boat downstream.

The flare burst overhead, painting the night sky with white.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then came the cry, sharp and distant, the unmistakable call of the griffons.

Alrulus watched Nina’s boat drift downstream, the current carrying her farther with each passing second.

He allowed himself one long breath.

The ground trembled. Branches split apart as the monster forced its way through the burning trees, its two heads howling in fury.

Alrulus turned, sword in hand. His left arm hung useless at his side, but his stance was steady.

From above came the rush of wings, and the forest lit white.

An instant later, the world vanished in fire.

Nina stirred sometime later. The air was still, thick with ash. Her body refused to move, but she managed to lift her head just enough to look back.

Over the forest, a vast plume of smoke rose into the night sky, glowing faintly red beneath the moonlight.

“They found me the next day… drifting down the stream.”

Nina’s voice trembled as she wiped at her tears, though more kept falling, “All those people died for me. I was supposed to heal, continue onward, defeat the Demon Queen, and look at me,” she laughed bitterly, her shoulders shaking, “It’s been almost a year, and I’m just getting worse. I can barely even stand…”

“Nina…” Snow knelt beside her, reaching for her hand, but Nina jerked away, coughing violently. Black bile spilled from her lips, staining her sleeve.

Snow grabbed a cloth, panic flashing across her face, “Please, stop talking, you’ll—”

“I can barely see with my left eye anymore,” Nina muttered between gasps, “My arm doesn’t move half the time… my skin burns, my body’s rotting from the inside… I’m—”

Her voice broke. Snow froze, unsure whether to speak or simply hold her.

Nina’s breathing slowed. Her head drooped against Snow’s shoulder, words slurring. “I’m just… going to die soon, aren’t I? So what’s the point of it all…”

Snow brushed a hand through her hair, whispering, “Please don’t say that, Nina...”

But Nina didn’t answer.

Her eyes closed, and at last, she slept.

Part 7

“I still think we should put the birdie in the room with her,” Sherry was playing with the caladrius through the cage bars, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling healthier since it got here.”

“I agree,” Snow replied, arranging Nina’s breakfast tray, “But remember the tantrum she threw when she woke up and the birdcage was there? No can do. I just hope that after the priests—”

A creaking sound interrupted her. Both women froze as the door slowly opened.

Nina appeared, leaning on her crutches. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes looked cloudy from sleep. She took a step forward, yawned, and croaked, “Good morning… Did we drink a lot last night or something? I feel like I’m hungover…”

“Nina!” Sherry nearly dropped the cage.

“What? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost. I know I’m not looking good, but it’s not that bad.”

“N-No, it’s not that,” Snow stammered, quickly collecting herself. “Nina, you’ve been drifting in and out of sleep. This is the first time you’ve really been awake in days, since…”

“Huh?” Nina sat at the table as if nothing happened, “So that’s why the garden’s a mess. Nobody’s been tending to it.”

“Uhm, Nina…” Snow hesitated before placing something beside her plate, “Lalemana’s birthday was yesterday. She brought you this slice of cake.”

Nina quietly took it with her right hand and ate it in a single bite.

“…So, do you plan to do anything for her?” Sherry asked carefully, “I mean—”

“It’s better if she forgets about me,” Nina cut her off, finishing her meal with brisk efficiency, “I’ll tend the garden. It looks like several days of work need to be done.”

A few hours later, the sun had climbed higher, and the secluded upper garden was filled with the rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds.

“Wonder what’s going on down there?” Sherry whispered, parting the bushes to peer into the main garden below.

“What is it?” Snow asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“There’s a row of soldiers by the front gate… an armored carriage just arrived. I think I saw Minister Frost talking with some girl, looked oddly young.”

“Foreign diplomats again?” Snow frowned, “Almost all of them ask to see Nina. Strange we haven’t been notified.”

“Well, if Frost’s dealing with it, it’s better for us, right? Let Nina rest.”

By late afternoon, the garden was quiet again.

“Lulú didn’t come out today, did she?” Nina asked from her seat by the window, “Or did she leave early?”

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen her,” Sherry said, “But she was rather an—”

A thunderous crash shook the building. The walls trembled, the tea set clattered, and Snow shrieked, “What the hell was that!? Are we under attack!?”

“It felt like a cannonball hit the building!”

“Snow, I’ll stay here,” Sherry drew her rapier, “Go check what happened. If it looks dangerous, come right back!”

“R-right!” Snow unlocked the door and bolted out.

The next few minutes stretched endlessly. Sherry stood tense by the door, blade ready, while Nina simply watched the window, unbothered, lazily carving a piece of wood.

At last, a frantic knocking came, “It’s me, open up!” Snow’s voice was breathless on the other side.

“What is it? What happened!?”

Snow burst through the door, gasping, “Crim… Ma…”

“Crima? What are you talking about?”

“Crimson Magic Clan!” Snow finally managed, clutching her chest, “A girl from the Crimson Magic Clan is here!”

Sherry’s rapier slipped from her hands, clattering against the floor. Nina’s expression froze, disbelief washing over her face.

Later that night

“They got away,” Sherry entered from the garden in her pajamas, sheathing her sword, “Someone triggered my alarms, I’m sure of it.”

“You sure it wasn’t another bird?” Nina asked, “Not the first time that’s happened.”

“No, no, I fixed that. It was definitely a person. I’ll stay alert,” she turned to leave, pausing at the door, “Don’t stay up too late, Nina. Not sure if Lalemana will come tonight, she must be exhausted after that fight.”

“I’ll go to bed soon. Good night, Sherry.”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Sherry lingered a moment longer, “Someone from the Crimson Magic Clan actually came. Maybe the prophecy’s true after all.”

Nina’s gaze lingered on the door as it clicked shut, The prophecy… that foolish tale my father and the generals can’t let go off. The thing that’s kept Lulú trapped in this house since birth. At this point, even I’m willing to believe it.

She chuckled softly, Oh yeah, Lulú got into a fight, didn’t she? That knuckle-brained girl… first time she meets someone from the supposed legendary party and she picks a fight, with an Archwizard, no less.

Footsteps echoed outside the door. After a long pause, Lalemana’s voice came, faint but steady.

"I'm finally leaving tomorrow," her words wavered between laughter and tears, "Can you believe it? A completely uneducated commoner from the Crimson Magic Clan appeared… but she'll have to do."

"I'll leave with her and get the spirit," her tone softened, "The spirit will heal you, and everything will go back to normal… we'll go back to normal…"

Nina remained silent, the Sapphire Spirit, huh? Is that the final chance for me…?

The next morning.

Nina sat in her usual chair overlooking the main garden. A large carriage waited by the gate, sunlight glinting off its polished surface as servants moved luggage into place.

“She’s really leaving, isn’t she?” Nina murmured.

“Yup,” Sherry approached, folding her arms, “Preparations are ready. She’ll go with the Axis Pilgrimage, together with the Crimson Magic Clan girl. It’s all happening so fast.”

“Nina, please excuse my rudeness,” Snow added softly, “but this could be the last time she comes here. Let Lalemana see you, please. It’ll do you both good.”

“I want you and Sherry out of this room until Lulú leaves,” without turning, Nina’s tone was calm but absolute, “I’ll consider it. But for now… leave me alone.”

Neither dared to argue. They exchanged a look, bowed slightly, and slipped out.

Nina remained still for a long moment, then moved to her chair in front of the door.

The ticking of the wall clock filled the silence. Then, metallic footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.

Nina slowly rose, steadying herself on her crutches, and placed her right hand against the door.

"I-I…" the voice on the other hand began, taking a long pause, "I'm leaving… finally leaving. I'll get the spirit, and…"

Nina shut her eyes.

Lulú…

Her heart pounded in her ears, louder than the words themselves. She wanted to say something, to tell her to be careful, to promise she’d be waiting, but when she tried to speak, her throat tightened.

Then came the thud of a fist striking the door.

“Nina! Wait for me!” Her voice, trembling but fierce, carried through the wood, “I’ll bring the spirit for you! I’ll save you!”

The words echoed down the hallway. Then, silence.

Nina pressed her palm harder against the door. Her teeth clenched. Her breath came shallow and uneven.

Say something. Anything.

But nothing came out.

“…Wait for me,” Lalemana’s voice finally whispered.

Nina bit down a sob and turned away sharply. She nearly tripped, catching herself against the table. Her hand landed on Alrulu’s journal. She opened it, scrawling a few words with trembling fingers, then tore out the page and slipped it under the door.

After that, only footsteps. Fading slowly. Then gone.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Nina waited until she was sure Lalemana left, then she screamed, a hoarse, broken sound that tore through her throat.

When it was over, she wiped her eyes and limped toward the window.

Outside, in the courtyard below, she saw the large carriage preparing to depart. A black-haired girl sat on its roof. Beside the carriage, Lalemana was hugging her mother tightly. Daisy stood near.

Nina’s gaze locked onto Lalemana. For just a heartbeat, just a heartbeat, she was certain their eyes met. Then the carriage door closed, and it began to roll away from the Royal Residence.

The sound of hooves faded into the distance.

In the quiet of the enclosed garden, the caladrius stood inside its cage, preening its pale feathers in the sunlight.

Nina approached, the bird turned, and for the first time, its eyes met hers.

The caladrius blinked, tilting its head.

Nina rested her hand on the cage door, she took a breath, “You don’t belong here any more than I do.”

The lock clicked.

“Go on,” she whispered, “Fly, fly for both of us.”

The bird hesitated only for a moment before spreading its wings. With a rush of air, it rose, spiraling higher and higher until it vanished into the sky.

Nina followed it with her eyes, the sunlight catching on her tears.

“Freedom looks good on you,” she murmured, “Don’t look back.”

The garden fell quiet again. Only the breeze remained, soft, warm, carrying the faint echo of wings long gone.

AN: Hey everyone, sorry for taking so long with this one. This chapter was rather difficult to do, I scrapped it a few times, that and some real life complications made for the long delay, I was really hoping to get it out three months ago! I haven't just been working on this, planning for the next few chapters is well underway. so hopefully the next update won't take so long

Thanks a lot for reading!