Lily arrived at the guild just past noon, sunlight catching in her pale green hair as petals seemed to drift in her wake without wind. Conversations dimmed the moment the S-Rank Flower Mage stepped through the doors. Even among elites, she carried presence lightly — and intentionally.
"Eira," she called gently.
He turned from the request board, surprised. "Lily."
They moved toward one of the long wooden tables. Vesa watched from the upper balcony. Ark leaned against a pillar, arms folded. Reya was already staring.
Lily smiled — warm, but measured. "I came on two matters. One official. One… personal."
Eira raised a brow. "That sounds dangerous."
She lowered her voice. "Has anyone been asking about you? Your origin. Your records before joining this guild. Old war deployments. Anything unusual?"
The question landed too carefully to be casual.
Eira didn't answer immediately. "Why?"
Lily's eyes flickered, just briefly. "The King issued a discreet order to my guild master. A background investigation. Monitoring. It was to remain confidential."
Silence stretched.
Vesa descended the stairs without haste.
"And you're telling us because?" he asked calmly.
Lily met his gaze. "Because I don't like secrets that smell like traps."
Ark pushed off the pillar. "Monitoring him? For what?"
"The sword reacting may have accelerated suspicion," Lily replied. "The crown is uneasy."
Noctryx, seated by the window, gave a faint hum. "They should be."
Lily straightened slightly. "The official matter — I was sent to deliver invitations. The coronation ceremony for Ark. Representatives from every major nation will attend."
The hall shifted.
Ark's jaw tightened, though pride flickered in his eyes.
Reya stepped forward before anyone else could respond. "Coronation?" she said flatly. "Already?"
"It has been decided," Lily answered.
Reya looked at Ark without softness. "You're not fit to lead."
The air thickened.
Ark's expression hardened instantly. "Careful."
"You only chase power," Reya continued. "Titles. Strength. Status. Even Neo — if you hadn't known she was a princess, you would have chosen her anyway. Not for her heart. For her mana. Because it surpasses mine."
The words cut deeper than shouted accusations.
Ark didn't deny it.
Lily exhaled quietly. "She's not entirely wrong."
Ark's head snapped toward her.
"You've always measured worth by strength," Lily said gently. "And by proximity to power."
Something dark passed through Ark's eyes.
"He grew up clawing for acknowledgment," Lily continued more softly, glancing at Eira. "An illegitimate son in a palace that pretended he didn't exist. Power was the only language that made people look at him."
Ark said nothing.
The silence was answer enough.
Reya crossed her arms. "That doesn't mean he should rule."
Her gaze shifted upward — toward Vesa.
"I wish Vesa were king."
The hall went still.
Vesa's expression did not change.
Ark laughed once — sharp, humorless. "Of course you do."
Eira stepped in before the tension snapped. "Enough."
He turned slightly toward the Snow Goddess, who stood near the far pillar, half-hidden in shadow.
"Is there a way?" he asked quietly. "To change what's coming?"
She looked at him — and for once, there was no certainty in her eyes.
"I do not see the future," she said. "And most memories that would grant you advantage were erased when I descended. Divinity does not come intact."
He frowned. "Then we're blind?"
"Not entirely."
Her gaze shifted inward, distant.
"I remember one thing," she said slowly. "The previous Hero once found a book. During a mission beyond the northern forests. A tome that answered any question asked of it."
Frey, who had been silently observing from the corner, stepped forward immediately. His internal library stirred.
"A self-responding artifact?" he asked, intrigued. "Sentient record? Divine script?"
"It required blessing to open," the Snow Goddess replied. "Reserved for those touched by divine power."
Noctryx's lips curved faintly. "That narrows it."
"A quest then," Eira said.
Vesa nodded once. "We move quietly."
—
Tracking the book was not simple.
Old ruins led to abandoned monasteries. Monasteries led to sealed vaults. Vaults led to nothing but false inscriptions and dust.
Dead end after dead end.
Meanwhile, in the guild's quieter evenings, a far stranger development occurred.
Noctryx discovered board games.
The Snow Goddess discovered sweets.
What began as curiosity became obsession.
They would sit cross-legged across from one another, a board between them, arguing over rules as if war depended on it.
"You moved twice," Noctryx would accuse.
"You blinked," the Snow Goddess would counter calmly. "That is consent."
"That is not how consent works."
Frey once walked in to witness them aggressively stacking carved wooden pieces while a plate of pastries sat entirely demolished between them.
"You are divine beings," he observed.
They ignored him.
On one unfortunate night, a minor frost storm formed indoors after the Snow Goddess lost three rounds in a row.
Noctryx claimed victory with far too much satisfaction.
It was the most childish either of them had ever appeared.
And somehow, the most human.
—
Eventually, the trail shifted.
An inscription deep beneath a collapsed cathedral mentioned "the Garden That Devours."
Frey's eyes brightened. "Roses," he murmured. "A dungeon domain disguised as beauty."
The Snow Goddess nodded faintly. "That is the place."
Three days later, Eira, Vesa, and Frey stood before a stone entrance swallowed entirely by blooming crimson vines.
The air smelled sweet.
Too sweet.
Petals drifted downward like snow.
Thorns pulsed subtly as if breathing.
"A dungeon filled with roses," Vesa said quietly.
"No," Frey corrected. "A rose that is the dungeon."
The entrance parted slowly at Eira's approach.
Not to Vesa.
Not to Frey.
To him.
Noctryx stepped beside him, dark aura brushing the vines.
They recoiled.
"Divine locks," Noctryx murmured. "It recognizes blessing."
Inside, corridors spiraled through living walls of intertwined stems. Thorns shifted. Blooms opened and closed like watching eyes.
At the heart of the garden lay a pedestal wrapped in white roses untouched by red.
And upon it rested a book.
Silver-bound.
Unmarked.
Waiting.
Frey swallowed softly. "Only one of you should attempt it."
Eira stepped forward.
Noctryx moved with him.
The moment Eira's hand touched the cover, frost shimmered across the roses.
When Noctryx's shadow brushed it, darkness threaded through the silver edges.
The book opened.
Not to pages.
But to light.
And the roses around them began to close.