Daisuke and Lyndoria's gaze swept across the silent ballroom. The musicians stood frozen, as if trapped in a moment of suspended animation. One man's fingers remained poised over the note holes of his flute, another clutched his violin and bow, while a third had his index finger still curled around the string of a harp.
"It's so bizarre," Lyndoria murmured.
"Tell me about it," Daisuke muttered back.
They were the only ones who didn't get whisked away by Lumielle's spell. Everyone else stood with eyes closed and heads bowed like lifeless marionettes while the princess carried out her plan to corner the Mhaledictus mastermind and their loyalists.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Daisuke noticed Zephyr's MP bar flickering. His HP remained at a hundred percent, but that did little to ease his nerves.
Would the canine be alright on his own? Where had Midnight rushed them off to—and who in the city could they possibly be fighting?
"Impeccable timing," Daisuke muttered as the Djinn emerged from his shadow and leapt onto his shoulder. But the feline's sudden arrival only deepened the knot in his chest. "Does Zephyr need backup?"
The deity inclined his head.
"Alright. But before we head out, I need a quick favor." Daisuke turned to the girl beside him. "Lynn, we're short on time—can you show Midnight the top officials so he can mark them like we planned?"
"Okay," she replied with a nod.
Just as the feline completed the task, anchoring a fragment of his own shadow to Lord Zerbst's, the ballroom doors burst open and a wave of soldiers flooded in with weapons at the ready. Behind them, a party of mages began chanting in unison, their incantation swiftly unraveling the spell cast by the songstress.
One by one, the aristocrats snapped back to awareness with startled gasps—but many of them didn't awaken in confusion. They rose in rage.
"Secure the room!" Vaerythos bellowed, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Lines of fury etched deep into his face. "No one leaves unless I say so!"
"Seize the princess," Cassius added coldly, lifting a hand in command.
The soldiers froze, glancing at one another in uncertainty. "Your Excellency…?"
"You heard me," he growled, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "My word carries the weight of the king's will. Follow the order. And find her assistant. Detain them both—immediately."
Lumielle glowered at the man as a soldier clutched her arm.
Cassius held her gaze, unflinching. "Did you truly believe there would be no consequences for your actions? Royal blood or not, no one stands above the law—not even you, Princess."
She pursed her lips.
"What if innocent lives are caught in the crossfire because of your little spectacle?"
Lumielle's expression tightened. "You and I both know that, dark guild or not, Absolution doesn't pass judgment without undeniable proof. So, unless someone has something to hide… there's no reason to be afraid."
Cassius's frown deepened, but he said nothing.
Meanwhile, the lieutenant general who led the raid leaned in close and urgently whispered something into his superior's ear.
Varrick's jaw tightened as he listened, then swept his arm forward. "Spread out!" he barked. "Search every corner—he's here, I can feel it!"
The soldiers, clearly briefed prior to the raid, fanned out across the room—searching, interrogating, and appraising every guest. Their confident strides and coordinated movements left no doubt: they knew exactly what they were looking for. But who, and why?
One of the guards approached a silver-haired woman. The sly grin curling his lips made it apparent he was hoping to achieve a tad more than his job description.
"Don't move," he ordered, slipping his sword back into its sheath.
A lecherous glint lit his eyes as he looked her over, drinking in every detail. Then, with far too much enthusiasm, he crouched and tapped at her ankles—his hands lingering too long as they slid slowly up the length of her legs. He paused at the back of her thighs, fingers pressing just enough to feel the curve of her rear.
Suppressing a smug chuckle, he finally stepped back. "Arms up."
As she obeyed, a flush crept across his face, eyes fixating on the way her breasts subtly shifted with the motion. His gaze drifted—from the line of her cleavage to her armpits, then to the delicate curve of her shoulders—each detail feeding his crude fascination.
"Your hair, eye color, and youth match the description," he murmured before brazenly cupping the soft mound of one breast. Then squeezed. "Ah, it's warm—otto!"
The bastard quickly stepped back when her face twisted into a fierce snarl.
"…Th-the only difference is that you're a woman, and quite a feisty one at that," he muttered, turning to leave after being certain she wasn't wearing a disguise.
Daisuke lowered his arms and exhaled, searing the soldier's vile face into memory as the man walked off. It took every ounce of his willpower to refrain from pounding the pervert into paste. But now wasn't the time to blow his cover—he couldn't afford to jeopardize the plan.
As the soldiers frantically combed the venue for a boy with silver hair and orange-brown eyes, he couldn't help but wonder. They clearly knew exactly who they were after—Haxks Starfrost. But Hynes had no idea he was here, much less tied to Lumielle.
So how did the soldiers—or more precisely, the Mhaledictus—know who to target? Was it Adrian? Or Ranger? Still, what were the odds of either man being in the capital?
Leopold's trembling gaze stayed glued to his feet, his thoughts spiraling as he replayed everything that had unfolded in the mental realm. He'd been so focused on a single man and his vile deeds that he failed to grasp the depth of the rot spreading through the palace.
The king—poisoned by a traitor. Members of the royal court—collaborating with the Mhaledictus. It sounded unthinkable, and yet, it explained the chill that had settled over the palace in recent months. The heaviness. The silence. The dread.
As if compelled by the gods themselves, Leopold lifted his gaze—and there, directly in his line of sight, stood Ignatius Pembroke. Surrounded by his peers, yet stripped of his usual arrogance. There was no carefree laughter this time. No smug grin. Only the frantic chattering of teeth and eyes flicking about like a cornered tranquilid.
Those weren't the eyes of an innocent man. And as Leopold mulled over the sins that might have driven him to such despair, his own expression twisted as a dark and chilling thought took root.
"Grand Chancellor Cassius," Reneal called out as he approached, no trace of hesitation or cowardice in his demeanor. "What do you plan to do with my sister?"
Cassius shifted his gaze—from Lyndoria, just escorted forward by a soldier, to Lumielle, whose eyes gleamed with thinly veiled contempt.
"If the king has truly recovered enough to speak," he replied coolly, "then I'll raise the matter with him directly. If not… I'll bring it before the council."
Reneal frowned, his lips pressed into a firm, confident line. "I expect to be kept informed on this matter—and present at the meeting."
Cassius schooled his features into a mask of polite indifference. "But of course… I'll see to it that you're—"
"I'm not finished," Reneal interjected sharply. "Once matters here are settled, I want a private word regarding my father's condition. If he has been drugged, then it's evident your security protocols have failed."
A muscle twitched in Cassius's jaw, but he held both his tongue and his composure and dipped into a shallow bow. "Your Highness."
Stynx's anger simmered as he watched the unfolding scene. Just yesterday, Reneal would have been paralyzed by the pressure of such an affair, his presence only earning sneers and dismissive glances from the aristocrats. His words would have been worthless in their eyes, ignored or mocked.
But now, after his courageous actions earlier that day, the prince had transformed. He stood tall, unwavering, commanding respect—even from the Grand Chancellor, who, despite his disdain, was forced to lower his pride and acknowledge the prince's words. Even if it meant losing favor with the crowd.
Stynx clicked his tongue in displeasure. Dammit! I can't let it end like this. I have to say something—do something right this instant, or I may never get another chance to prove myself.
Just then, the bastard prince caught the defiant curve of Lumielle's lips and the ever-stoic expression worn by her assistant. But something was off. A third figure—one who had lately become a constant beside them—was missing. The silver-haired wench who had wormed her way into their lives. The insufferable thorn in his side.
A glint sparked in his eye as realization struck. At last, a crack of opportunity he could sink his claws into, however miniscule.
Without hesitation or shame, he stepped up to Vaerythos and leaned in. "My Lord," he whispered, just loud enough to be heard. "Shouldn't we order the soldiers to find Sophia as well? The woman who allegedly funded the dark guild? If we can squeeze the truth from her…"
Hynes narrowed his eyes at the exchange and quietly activated a skill that heightened his senses—especially his hearing.
Suddenly, "Soldiers!" Vaerythos barked, sweeping his arm like a blade. "Long silver hair, orange-brown eyes—Sophia Everwinter. Find her at once! It's imperative she's taken into custody immediately!"
"Sir!" The soldiers saluted before disposing themselves to the deed.
Stynx grinned.
Hynes and Leopold frowned.
Lyndoria glanced in the general direction where she had last seen Haxks Starfrost, but he had already disappeared. She wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved or concerned. But when she shifted her attention to Lumielle to offer comfort, the princess's expression was mostly unperturbed.
She allowed a small smile. I guess I was worried for nothing.
Without a word, Vaerythos craned his head toward Stynx, bloodshot eyes wide and unblinking. "Kill Lumielle," he demanded. "If you want to redeem yourself, get rid of both her and Everwinter."
Hynes' breath caught in his throat.