A lone figure stood before a pair of massive doors, her silhouette cast long by the flickering, divine light of the cathedral halls. Her armor, once a testament to a proud heritage, now bore the scars of a kingdom reduced to dust.
On her breastplate, the golden crest of Aurelyth was fractured, yet it still caught the reflection of a cross suspended above the church doors—an emblem crowned with a silver circle and a crescent moon at its peak, acting as a silent observer of the night.
“Enter, oh brave knight of Aurelyth.” The voice echoed from the depths of the sanctuary.
The knight took a long breath, her eyelids fluttering shut for a heartbeat before snapping open with renewed determination. She rested her palm upon the pommel of her sword and pushed the gates open.
Past the threshold lay a realm of crystalline brilliance. The ceilings were vast spans of architectural glass, and towering windows acted as conduits for the sunlight, turning the atmosphere into a sea of blinding white.
In the center of this radiance stood a man, his hair as white as a mountain peak and his eyes a vivid blue. He held a leather-bound tome, the same crescent-cross insignia embossed upon its cover.
“Answer our lord and savior, knight of Aurelyth,” he said. The sound of the book snapping shut echoed like a gunshot as he turned his bluish gaze toward her. “What exactly happened on that day?”
The knight dropped to one knee. She planted her sheathed sword against the marble floor, her hands gripping the hilt in reverence.
“We began our march toward Crimvane on that day, fully aware of their supposed inferiority. But, contrary to our expectations, Crimvane also advanced instead of conserving their stamina… and even with the resources the church offered our ranks, we lost overwhelmingly.”
“How could a kingdom of our grace lose to such a backwater province?” the man asked, his voice calm and flat.
“We were winning,” the knight whispered, her chin tilting down as a shadow crossed her face. “But suddenly, a beautiful fire magic ruthlessly melted hundreds in an instant. Then, a human arrived at the battlefield, took the second prince’s head, and moved like a madman, slaughtering anyone in his path.”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the knight. He turned slowly, gazing up at a towering, featureless statue looming behind him in the shadows.
“What was this man like? And what of Duke Gemsh’s plan?”
“The man seemed normal at first glance, except for his eyes... they were bottomless black voids. As for the Duke... his plan was exposed before it even began. The ruler of Crimvane saw through every layer.”
“Crimvane’s ruler?” The man turned back, the ghost of a sneer on his lips. “You mean that doll princess?”
“We were mistaken, My Lord. She does not match the rumors in the slightest,” the knight said, her voice trembling. “She manipulated my mind using a skill, and spared no one, not even those who threw down their steel. She was just like the man. She claimed they were partners.”
The man stepped toward the kneeling knight, halting just a few paces away. A radiant light began to pool in his palm as he extended it toward her. “Then, how did you escape her judgment? Do not lie in the presence of our god.”
“She ordered me to take my own life, but I resurrected using my skill. I fled the moment her attention wavered and came here to report.”
The man stared at her in silence for a long moment before the light in his hand dissipated.
“A powerful mage, a madman, and an intelligent ruler. This kingdom is no longer a footnote; it is a tumor upon our god’s future.” He smiled, a thin, predatory expression. “You are dismissed, knight of Aurelyth. We shall dissect the smaller details later.”
The knight rose, her armor clanking as she turned back toward the doors. As she walked away, the man’s voice followed her, whispered like a curse.
“May our god’s mercy be upon you.”
***
Kaelen moved forward with measured steps. His hand rested habitually on his sword’s pommel, his eyes sweeping the surroundings.
This time, however, he was clad in pitch-black armor that seemed to drink the light of the city. It fit his frame with surgical precision; a faint crimson glow bled from the seams at certain angles, while jagged thorns of dark metal jutted from the pauldrons and gauntlets.
The dragon girl had complained about her scales being used, the blacksmith had nearly worked himself into a coma, and the final design had been all the rulers’ doing.
“I’ll get anything that is delicious and expensive,” Rose said beside him.
They came to a halt in front of a restaurant counter. Rose stood beside Kaelen in her usual head maid attire, her arms elegantly crossed.
“Good then,” Vionette turned toward the waiter. “We’ll have... this, this, and this.”
One arm was tucked comfortably beneath her chest, while her other elbow rested in her palm, her chin propped delicately on her fingers as she surveyed the menu.
“That looks almost like Kimchi Stew,” Noa muttered, leaning in to study the picture closely. “I guess it’s because the images are made from magic? It looks... familiar.”
“That doesn’t change anything, Noa.” Vionette turned toward an empty table, her gaze already dismissing him. “Let’s go sit and wait for our food.”
They walked to their table, the atmosphere of the restaurant shifting subtly in their wake. Other patrons watched them with a mix of curiosity and instinctive fear. They sat—Rose and Kaelen on one side, Vionette and Noa opposite them.
The establishment wasn’t designed for high nobles, but it possessed an intellectual charm. White glass spheres hung from the ceiling, absorbing Aether from the air and emitting a soft, steady glow. The walls were a pristine white, adorned with painted portraits and patterned by the long shadows of stone pillars.
They were in Cirelith now, a city-state ruled not by bloodlines, but by those who hungered for knowledge. Many called it the Information City, a sanctuary where secrets were the primary currency and libraries were treated as holy ground.
After a brief wait, the waiters arrived with laden plates. “Here is your order. Please, enjoy.”
They set the food down with practiced efficiency before vanishing back into the steam of the kitchen. The reflection of the piping hot meals danced in the sparkling eyes of the four companions as they looked down in delight.
Noa had just lowered his spoon toward the stew when the front doors were suddenly kicked open.
“By the orders of the Church of Liara! Everyone stop moving!”
A squadron of knights clad in white armor surged into the room, their voices echoing through the restaurant. While every other patron froze in their seats, the four at the central table simply continued to eat, treating the armed interruption as nothing more than a buzzing fly.
A knight stepped forward, the flat of his drawn blade coming to rest on Noa’s shoulder, inches from the skin of his neck. “Didn’t you hear what we said? Don’t move a muscle.”
“What’s going on, Nill?” A woman’s voice cut through the tension as she closed in on their table, her grip firm around the shaft of her spear. “What are your identities?”
She possessed cascading golden hair and matching golden eyes, accented by a small birthmark below her left eye. Her armor was a pristine white, bearing the crest of a cross entwined with a blooming golden flower. Her face held a remarkable beauty, yet it felt like a polished blade.
A maid, a knight, a beautiful woman with a faint aura, and... a man with no aura at all. The woman scanned the eccentric party.
She knew that if a maid was present, there had to be a lord nearby. Yet no one here wore the fine fabrics or jewels of the high-born. Furthermore, a maid would never sit and eat as an equal with her lords in any kingdom she had ever visited.
“Our identities?” Noa asked, finally looking up. His vivid purple eyes met her golden ones. “And who do you think you are to order us around while we’re eating?”
He’s done it again... Rose thought, closing her eyes in a silent prayer. Poor knight, just trying to do his job, about to meet a monster. Just put your sword away already.
The woman stared into those purple irises, and for a fleeting second, a chill raced down her spine. She dipped her head slightly and offered a knowing smile.
“There have been some incidents around here, and we are here to ensure the safety of the citizens. So, we kindly ask you to reveal your identities. We won’t do any harm if you cooperate.”
“I don—”
“Alright, we’ll give you our information,” Vionette interrupted Noa, turning toward the Saint with a sugary smile. “But first, I’d like to know the name of the person interrupting our lunch.”
“I am Jain Fumwor, a Saint from the Church of the God Liara, sent here to resolve certain... anomalies.”
“The God Liara…” Vionette let out a light laugh. “How very interesting.” Her smile took on a mischievous edge. “I’m Vionette—Vionette Crimvane.”
Crimvane… A royal? What is a royal doing in a common restaurant like this? Jain thought, though her suspicion did not waver.
Even after hearing the name of a ruling house, the knights around them refused to lower their weapons.
“My apologies for our rudeness, Your Majesty Vionette,” Jain said, dipping into a formal curtsy with one leg swept back. “But your titles hold no weight in this city-state. So, please, coopera—”
“Exactly.”
Jain snapped her head toward the voice. Noa was smiling now, even with the knight’s bare steel still hovering inches from his jugular.
“Our titles don’t matter here... and that includes yours.” Noa’s gaze slid to the side, locking onto the knight holding the sword at his neck. “So, get this fucker away from me before I send him to hell. My sword is getting pretty impatient, you know?”
He was now looking toward the corner of the table, and Jain followed his gaze. There, leaning against the polished wood, a black sword was trembling in its scabbard—a bloodlust so thick it seemed to be screaming to be drawn.
“Nill, back off. Lower your sword,” Jain ordered, her grip tightening around the shaft of her spear.
“Don’t worry, he’s just a bit cranky because he had a bad morning.” Vionette gestured toward Noa with an innocent smile. “Isn’t that right, Noa darling?”
Noa’s threatening smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a wide-eyed, vacant expression. His mouth hung slightly open as he blinked rapidly.
“Wha…? Ah! Yes! My bad! I was just... thinking about something else that made me mad.”
“See~?” Vionette turned back to the stunned Jain, flashing a smile as innocent as a kitten's. “No problemo.”
From the opposite seat, Rose looked at Kaelen, raw bewilderment written across her face. What the hell is going on with them?
Kaelen merely looked back, a subtle twitch in his stoic expression conveying a silent, ‘I don’t know either.’
…
The chaos was eventually quelled. Jain now sat opposite Noa and Vionette, while Kaelen and Rose stood behind them. The remaining knights were busy cross-referencing information with the cowering patrons.
“I apologize for that scene again,” Vionette said, tilting her head with practiced grace.
“Please, do not worry about it,” Jain shook her head. “Our entrance was quite aggressive. It’s understandable that people would react defensively.”
Maybe they actually were just in a bad mood... it is also our fault for being so blunt, Jain concluded, her guard beginning to lower.
While Jain was coming to the conclusion that they were merely eccentric nobles, Noa was watching Vionette out of the corner of his eye.
<When the hell did we go from Villains to Heroes?>
<Just go along with it, you idiot,> Vionette replied as she continued to eat from her plate. <I think we’ll find something very exciting here. So just play nice for once.>
<This better be interesting,> Noa replied, closing his eyes for a moment before locking his gaze back onto Jain. <But one thing’s for sure,>
<Hmm...?>
<She’s stronger than me.>
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