G6 occupied the entire bench, a sprawl of simmering irritation. Prince Dio's behavior was a glitch—unnecessary, illogical, and therefore infuriating.
She lay on her back, hands laced behind her head, staring at the sky as if it held a tactical report on princely insanity. Freak.
"I wonder if Lady Reise is angry," Lilia whispered.
"She is," Tina confirmed, voice low. "You know her stance on unsolicited orders. Or touch."
Charade's over. G6's thoughts cut clean. I've learned enough. Stamina builds in real fights, not drills. Time to move.
"But how?" she murmured.
A slow, cunning smile surfaced, irritation burned away by a new objective. Keep the Queen placated with morning drills. Afternoons… are mine.
She sat up, fluid and precise. One boot planted on the bench, arm resting on her knee—a posture of pure, defiant ownership. Her focus snapped to Earl drilling Brenda and Zen.
Need that Vault. Can't wait for him to deem me 'ready.' Need it now.
"Hmm… planning to assassinate Earl?" Keith's voice intruded as he dropped beside her, nudging her boot off.
"How dare you." Her tone was flat, deadly.
"Your expression is murderous."
"Bad luck. That thought hadn't occurred to me. Yet."
"What scheme involves him, then?" Keith pressed, as if reading her schematics.
"Nothing." Her eyes locked onto the simple silver stud in his ear. "Hey. How do I get one of those without going through Earl?"
"This?" He tapped it. "Requisition it. You're Collegium staff. Ask that brat, Brenda."
"Brenda? The librarian?"
"She handles acquisitions. You got your training gear from her. Storage for Omnia and Sanctum is linked. Tap your Professional Card on the secure cabinet. Department logs it. Security."
So I don't need him after all. The realization was a clean victory. Still owes me for that book, though.
"I see." Her reply was a sniper's bullet—short, final.
"Lord Keith, shall we begin?" Eliza's honeyed voice cut in.
"Go ahead. I'll follow," Keith dismissed.
Eliza turned her saccharine smile on G6. "Lady Reise. You seem to have regained your energy."
G6's head turned. Slowly. Her gaze was permafrost. "Don't talk to me."
The command was so absolute it made Keith blink.
This girl ticks me off. Maybe her saintly aura repels mine. Her whole face screams 'pick me.'
"Oh… I apologize. That was improper," Eliza layered her voice with practiced shame.
"What is happening?" Prince Dio returned, a bottle of chilled water in hand.
"Nothing, Your Highness…" Eliza's tone shifted to subtle victim. "I believe I've offended Lady Reise…"
Tch. This bitch. Just sleep with him and be done with it. Don't use me as your prop.
"I told her not to talk to me," G6 stated, rising. "She keeps forgetting I'm not nice." She took a step, her presence collapsing the space between them. "Unless you have something worth my time, refrain from speaking to me." The dismissal was scorched earth. She shoved her hands in her pockets and strode toward her servants.
Eliza stood perfectly still, a statue of humiliated shock.
"Gossip was right," Keith muttered. "Reise is in a foul mood."
"Do not mind her. Focus on your task," Prince Dio told Eliza, his tone a clinical reminder of her utility. "Keith, attend to your duty." He followed G6.
G6 tapped Edmund's shoulder. A silent command. He made room.
"Are you quite angry, Lady Reise?" Lilia whispered.
"Not angry," G6 corrected, voice still cool. "I show no interest in things unworthy of my attention."
"So it was not jealousy? That she encroaches upon your… territory?" Prince Dio offered the water.
Why does he keep approaching? Was being a silent observer not enough?
"Shut up and get lost." She snatched the bottle, cracked the seal, gave it a professional sniff. Drank.
"Reise…" His voice changed. Lower. Intent.
Interrogation tone.
"Not answering questions."
"I have not asked one."
"You were about to. Now move. I'd rather look at people with actual color in their faces." She waved a hand at his pale complexion.
Prince Dio sighed, prepared to press—when G6's head snapped to the side. Her face contorted. A sharp, silent gasp. Her hand clutched her temple.
"Reise!" Prince Dio's composure cracked. He stepped closer. Her servants rose as one, a protective wall.
Fuck. What is this ringing? Her fingers dug into her hair. Not pain. Signal interference.
"Reise! Can you hear me?" Prince Dio's voice was distant, muffled.
'The author died 50 years ago…'
'Witherby…'
'The Wonder of a Wonderful World?'
What is this? Seeing Witherby's book… in a place I've never been.
A flash. An echo. A stark, alien memory that felt intimately hers.
"REISE!"
Prince Dio's shout cut the static. His hands gripped her shoulders, a firm shake. The world snapped back into brutal focus.
His yell had frozen the arena. Keith and Earl were already sprinting over.
"What's wrong?" Earl's voice held genuine alarm.
"I…" G6's voice was unsteady. She mastered it in the next breath. "Need to return to the West Villa. Now."
"Are you unwell?" Prince Dio's concern was raw, undisguised.
She met his eyes where he knelt before her. The intensity was… disorienting.
Get your hands off me. The command was cold, automatic. She stood, movements deliberate. "I was reminded of a pressing matter at the villa." She layered her tone with forced neutrality. It sounded brittle.
"Lady Reise, you look pale," Lilia said.
"Are you certain you are alright?" Tina pressed.
The entire group watched her, a gallery of undisguised worry.
"I'm fine. Merely remembered something… important." The confusion bled through the steel.
Without another word, she turned and walked. Swift. Purposeful. Leaving a vacuum of stunned silence.
"What's happening to Lady Reise?" Lilia's voice trembled.
"I do not know…" Tina's composure was fissured.
"Our lady is likely exhausted," Edmund stated, taking charge. "Tina, Lilia, gather our things from her office. I will ensure she returns safely." A curt nod. He strode after her.
Tina and Lilia offered flustered bows and hurried off.
"What was that?" Keith mused.
"Is Lady Reise going to be alright?" Brenda's sharpness was softened.
"Hmm. She was not her usual… neutral self," Earl analyzed, adjusting his glasses.
"She is exhausted," Prince Dio said, his voice dropping to a low accusation as he turned on Earl. "Someone pushed her beyond her limits."
"Whoa. Someone's still hung up," Keith fired back.
"It was a consensual exercise for advanced control," Earl retorted, temper fraying.
"I suppose her sitting atop you was also part of her 'control'?" Prince Dio's jealousy was a naked blade.
"Both of you, shut up!" Brenda stepped between them. "Let's return to training. I need to conclude early."
"First day and you're slacking?" Keith accused.
"I intend to visit the West Villa. To ensure Lady Reise is well." Brenda's statement was firm.
"Let's do that." Prince Dio, Keith, and Earl spoke in unison. They glared at each other, suspicious.
"Shall we… begin?" Zen interjected, the lone rational voice.
"Ah. Right. Reise is not here," Prince Dio said, the fight draining. "No further reason to stay. I have paperwork." He turned and left, a storm contained in a straight spine.
"Tch. That lying jerk! He said he's done!" Keith barked at his back.
"Prince Dio is quite… interested in Lady Reise," Eliza observed, her words dripping sweet poison.
The group turned. The air thickened.
"She is to be his wife," Zen stated. A flat, indisputable fact. A verdict.
The arena fell quiet. The morning's fierce energy dissipated into confusion. Sparks of rivalry smoldered, overshadowed by a single, pressing question: what ghost had reached out to reclaim the unflappable Lady Reise? The game had changed. No one knew the new rules.
「WEST VILLA」
G6 slammed her door open. Edmund hovered at her back.
Not a memory. A summon. A direct line to that damn book.
She went straight to the bedside table, yanked the drawer. Her fingers closed around the worn leather of Witherby's book. The artifact.
She flipped it open. The first page, unchanged. The next—the once-blank parchment now bore a message, the ink gleaming wet:
'The vessel nears its purpose. The call you hear is the echo of a door beginning to open. The truth you seek is a shadow stretching long in the setting sun, soon to be revealed. Fear not the unraveling of the unknown, for it is the price and the prize of a second dawn.'
-Witherby, a Resonance of the All-Seers
G6's eyes narrowed, dissecting the poetry. "What the hell is this psychotic riddle?" she growled. She threw the book back, slammed the drawer.
She stalked to the tea table, dropped into a chair, crossed her arms. Edmund remained a silent sentinel.
"It's time." Her voice cut the air.
"My lady?" Edmund asked, foreboding coiling in his gut.
"Didn't I tell you back then? I'd tell you when the time is right." Her words dragged him back to day one in the arena. To their dangerous understanding.
Edmund's eye twitched. He knew what she's talking about. "I recall."
"I want to go to the Adventurers' Guild." G6.
"But your body… the mana strain…" Edmund.
"My body adapts under real threat. The arena is slowing me down." Her look was absolute. "Too many things to find out, Edmund. The guild was a curiosity. Now it's a pull." Her gaze drifted to the balcony.
"Your absence will be noted. Tina and Lilia would never permit it." Edmund.
"I'll handle them. I'll keep my morning appearances. We sneak out in the afternoons." G6.
"Are you determined?" Edmund.
"I am." G6.
"Then our first order is a perfect alibi." Edmund shifted seamlessly into strategist. He sat across from her. "A suggestion: use the pursuit of Utility Magic as your pretext." Edmund.
"Explain." G6.
"To master Utility Magic, one trains at its dedicated department. A building nearly as large as this villa. On the main grounds, near the outer walls. Sparsely staffed. Operates under House Worthon authority."
"So I manipulate them into vouching for me? Flimsy." G6.
"You underestimate your House's loyalty. Their fealty is to the Worthon name first. The Crown, a distant second." His voice was low, intent. "They will do anything for the family. Their discretion is absolute."
Deep-seated loyalty. Well-trained dogs. Useful. Despicable. Perfect.
"And Tina? Lilia?" G6.
"Assign them tasks in your office—paperwork, inventory—enough to occupy an entire afternoon. The palace grounds are vast. Equivalent to three small towns. The walk from here to Utility takes thirty minutes. Teleportation tools are for royal summons or emergencies only."
Edmund, you sly, brilliant bastard. A genuine, proud smile touched G6's lips—a master appreciating a flawless move.
"Settled. We address the main problem first." The plan crystallized. "We see the Queen. Inform her I'll spend half my days at Utility."
"Very well. I will send advanced notice while you prepare."
A knock. Tina and Lilia entered. "Lady Reise," Tina greeted, concern lining her face.
"Perfect timing. Fetch my black dress. Draw a bath. I'm seeing the Queen."
The Queen? Tina's mind reeled. She offered a curt nod.
"Lilia. Tell Alistair to bring me something small. I'm hungry."
"Right away!"
"Then, I will see to my part." Edmund stood, offered a deep bow. His eyes met hers—a glint of shared conspiracy—before he left.
Alone, G6 let her head fall back.
Witherby, a Resonance of the All-Seers… Maybe Pisces was right. Buying a book from that dusty shop in Cairo was a catastrophically bad idea.
She closed her eyes. The oddities were deepening. The case board was a mess.
G6 strode through the corridors, a slash of black against sunlit stone. Her servants trailed her, a silent, concerned shadow.
"I wonder what business Lady Reise has with Her Majesty," Lilia whispered.
"Likely nothing grave. Do not trouble yourself," Edmund interjected, smooth and final.
"What does our lady require from the Queen?" Tina pressed, her voice low. She could sense his evasion.
"All will be clear in due time."
I hope this Witch doesn't get suspicious. Creeps me out. Like she can see through me.
G6's thoughts whirred behind an impassive mask.
They reached the private gardens, the Queen's mansion looming. G6 didn't slow. Guards opened the doors. Inside, servants bowed as Leo, the Queen's butler, glided forward.
"A pleasure, Lady Reise." A deep bow.
"Is the Queen available?"
"She is in her study. Follow me."
G6 ascended, her servants trailing. At the study doors, Leo opened them without a sound. The Queen sat behind a mountain of documents.
The three servants dropped into deep bows.
"Your Majesty." G6 offered a curt nod.
"A rare sight outside the Collegium at this hour," the Queen remarked, not looking up.
G6 took a seat on the facing couch. "My control has improved. Minimal strain now."
"So I've heard. Sir Keith was… enthusiastic in his report this morning."
That idiot. Why does he always run and tell my business to this old hag?
"He seems fond of you. Seizes every chance to pester his busy aunt," the Queen added, a knowing glint.
"He's a simpleton." G6 wouldn't be derailed. "I'm here to inform you I'll spend the latter half of my days at the Utility Magic Department."
The Queen's pen stilled. Her eyes lifted, sharp. "So you are not here to ask permission."
"I did not believe it was required. But it seemed appropriate to keep you apprised." A faint, cold smile. "As you are my master."
The Queen's lips curved. A smile that didn't touch her eyes. "How thoughtful." She leaned forward. "And the afternoon paperwork I assigned you? The oversight of new inventions?"
Ah. Right. That bureaucratic busywork she dumped on me.
"Tina is capable of the initial review. Her knowledge is extensive. After Utility, I'll review her work. Efficiency will be greater."
A slow, knowing smirk. "You've given this considerable thought."
"I have."
"Very well. If you have your office in hand, I have no objection." The Queen's tone was light. Her gaze was heavy.
A duel. Two players reading hidden cards.
"Thank you for your understanding." G6's smile was all sharp edges. She rose, offered a bow.
As she straightened, her eyes flickered to a specific ledger on the desk's corner. Stark black leather.
The Black Ledger. The name surfaced with professional coldness.
"Until next time." The Queen's smile held.
G6 turned. Paused on the threshold. A final glance over her shoulder at the book.
The aura from it is… ridiculously familiar.
She walked out. The image burned. Her old profession supplied the context: a book like that wasn't for accounting. It was a register. A list of names for whom public justice was impossible, or scandal too costly. A hit list. A target roster for shadow work.
The audience was over. Permission granted. But the real discovery wasn't the alibi—it was the ledger.
A simple request had unearthed a darker mystery: what sins were so grave a monarch kept a personal record? The path to the Adventurers' Guild now felt less like an escape, and more like the first step into a deeper, more dangerous game.
—To Be Continued…—