"What's with these outfits?" Lohan asked, squirming as several women fussed over her clothes and hair. "I thought you guys didn't do this kind of stuff?"
The room had descended into a peculiar sort of organised chaos.
Freshly tailored white garments adorned the four girls, their quality immediately apparent despite having only just been finished. Tailors hurried from person to person carrying needles, measuring cords and strips of fabric, while the rhythmic snipping of specialised scissors blended with quiet conversations over hems, seams and final adjustments. The entire workshop buzzed with purpose as everyone laboured to perfect the uniforms.
"...We don't," Lavere answered simply, standing with her arms folded as an elderly seamstress meticulously inspected the silver stitching on her coat. "But today is different."
"Different?" Lohan tilted her head, only for it to be gently but firmly pulled upright again so another woman could continue fixing her ponytail. She let out a sharp yelp before shrinking under the collective stare of the older ladies. "I was just asking..."
Selene chuckled, her entire demeanour screaming that she was deeply amused by something as her pink locs were gathered into an elegant high bun.
"The Chieftain said that since we're meeting important people from the outside world, appearances carry meaning," Lavere explained with a weary sigh. "So Father prepared the materials, and the armoury has been working alongside the seamstresses for the past several hours to finish these."
Just then, Cisco stepped into the room from the opposite side after finishing his own preparations. His brow furrowed briefly before he released a quiet sigh, still absentmindedly rubbing at his scalp where an overzealous comb had dragged through his hair.
"And how did they know what we were doing?" he asked. "Last I checked, Reoloy only shared the details with us."
Lavere hesitated, her gaze drifting upward as she gathered her thoughts. A moment later, just as the seamstresses finished the last adjustments and stepped back to admire their work, she looked at Cisco again.
"I imagine it came up during the council meeting," she said with a small shrug.
Cisco wasn't entirely convinced.
Still, with no better explanation—and no reason to press her further—he let the matter rest and followed the others out into the corridor, where the rest of the boys were already waiting.
Roy and Amali turned away from their playful argument with Avron, Edren, and Digo, the former letting out an appreciative whistle as he looked over the newly dressed group.
"You guys look good too," he said, giving an approving nod.
The white uniforms, despite their individual variations, were clearly built from the same design philosophy: a Cardanian interpretation of noble and military aesthetics.
The foundation was a clean, formal coat crafted for both presentation and movement, featuring a split rear hem that allowed for unrestricted mobility. Each coat carried the same restrained elegance—thin silver stitching traced along the edges and seams, subtle enough to avoid appearing decorative, yet precise enough to highlight the craftsmanship behind every piece.
The inner lining carried a warmer bronze tone. The integrated shoulder guards that flowed seamlessly from the coats followed the same colour scheme, forged in bronze. They were sleek and minimal, less like traditional armour and more like a quiet declaration of readiness.
White reinforced formal boots and individually coloured sashes completed the uniforms.
Despite their noble influences, the designs were not attempts to imitate the extravagant garments of foreign aristocracy. They remained unmistakably Cardanian.
Practical.
Disciplined.
Built for battle.
The individuality of each uniform came through in the finer details—the coat lengths, lower garments, and especially the sashes.
The male coats generally ended around the upper thigh, while the female coats extended slightly above the knee. The only exceptions were Edren and Lohan; the former possessed an ankle-length coat inspired by his preference for capes, while the latter's was dialled up to mid-thigh, fitted to her more close combat-oriented style.
Most wore full-length trousers, though Selene's uniform broke the pattern with puffed short shorts that matched her more unconventional sense of style. Belonica similarly deviated from the standard design, wearing a long skirt with a side part that maintained the uniform's elegance while reflecting her personal preference.
The sashes, while designed to be worn around the waist and tied to the right side, had become the clearest expression of individuality.
Selene's light pink sash was noticeably longer than the others, allowing her to drape it across her torso in a more scout-like style.
Lohan's light blue sash remained traditional, worn neatly around her waist.
Cisco's faded green sash subtly reflected his bright hair colour without overpowering the rest of his uniform.
Lavere's purple sash added a regal touch to her appearance, complementing the elegance she naturally carried.
Edren's brown sash matched his grounded, simple nature and his preference and expertise in earth attribute spells.
Digo's orange sash was tied directly at the centre of his waist, resembling the style of a martial artist rather than a soldier.
Avron's grey sash followed the same central placement but was instead tied toward the back, a small deviation that somehow matched his habit of doing things his own way.
And finally, Belonica's maroon sash provided the deepest contrast among the group, reinforcing the colder and sharper impression of her overall design.
Amali looked over them quietly, then frowned.
A brief sense of being left out surfaced before she quickly pushed it aside.
"Where's Reollie?" she asked, looking around.
Right on cue, footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.
The group turned as Reoloy approached, flanked by Leno, Gordoi, and Meyer.
The first thing they noticed was his hair.
Usually wild and untamed, it had been carefully slicked back, though a few stubborn strands still fell naturally across his forehead, preserving the familiar look that made him unmistakably himself.
The second thing was the outfit.
Or rather, the difference.
He wore the same overall design as the others—a formal coat built with the same principles of practicality and elegance—but the contrast was immediately obvious.
His coat matched Lohan's length, falling to around the mid-thigh, though the similarities ended there.
The uniform was black.
Not the near-void darkness of his usual clothing, but still a deep, refined black that carried a weight of its own. Where the others' clothes were defined by white fabric and silver stitching, his possessed gold accents carefully woven along the edges and seams. The bronze lining and shoulder guards of the others were replaced by silver-blue, creating a direct visual connection to Luvarne itself.
His shoulder guards were also slightly more pronounced—not excessive, but enough to make the difference unmistakable.
The sash around his waist was a dark green, the excess fabric flowing down from the knot to just above his upper thigh. Unlike the others, however, it carried additional decoration: thin silver chains worn over the surface, each embedded with small purple gemstones that caught the light with every movement.
His boots followed the same philosophy as the rest of his attire but appeared far sturdier and more stylish than the others, clearly designed with travel and combat in mind on top of ceremony.
The final difference was the collar.
While the others wore low, structured collars that framed their coats comfortably, Reoloy's rose higher around his neck. It was firm enough to create a commanding silhouette but carefully designed so that it never felt restrictive or uncomfortable.
It was, in every possible way, a different uniform.
A higher position.
A different role.
A fact that everyone in the room seemed to understand.
Everyone except him.
Reoloy stopped in front of the group and immediately frowned.
His eyes moved from one person to another, then down toward himself. He tugged lightly at one sleeve, looked over the unfamiliar details, and glanced back at the others.
"...Why," he asked slowly, "...am I dressed differently from everyone else?"
Silence held as Lavere and the three older men exchanged subtle glances and nods.
The blonde clapped her hands, calling attention to herself.
"It's already past midnight," she said. "Unless you've forgotten, we're supposed to be at our destination by now, and we haven't even started sneaking in."
Reoloy's frown deepened.
He recognised the blatant attempt to redirect the conversation immediately.
Still, he couldn't deny the timing.
Regardless of Cale and Wynn's position within the Lindis royal family, they were still royals. Arriving late to a meeting he had arranged himself would only create unnecessary assumptions of disrespect.
With a resigned sigh, he adjusted the chains over his waist sash and turned his gaze toward Leno, Gordoi, and Meyer.
"I only wore these because you threatened me last minute," he muttered, leaning in so only they could hear "I want an actual explanation when I get back."
The three men remained composed.
Which, somehow, only made him more suspicious.
That odd feeling from the council meeting earlier screamed from the back of his mind as he huddled against the others and they exchanged final pleasantries with Roy and Amali.
"Bring me with you for the next thing," Roy said brightly, snapping Reoloy out of his thoughts.
"Me too," Amali added, puffing out her cheeks slightly.
A faint smile formed on Reoloy's face.
Their reactions were almost childish—the two of them clearly annoyed at being excluded from whatever interesting situation awaited the group next.
'What strange guys...'
"Sure," Reoloy said, smirking. "But it might be a dangerous one, plus you know how things usually go when I'm involved."
"That's what makes it fun," Roy laughed.
Amali, however, crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.
"Take care of yourself out there. And don't get mutilated by any crazy princesses."
Reoloy scoffed. "Speaking of..."
His gaze shifted toward Avron, who was in the middle of rolling up the sleeves of his new coat.
"Tangerine. Where's Longinus?"
The orange-haired spearman frowned slightly before raising both hands lazily.
"I left it behind this time."
The reincarnator nodded, summoning the familiar grey system screen.
"Good."
The previous tension, the strange behaviour, and the unanswered questions all slipped away beneath the simple momentum of the moment. Surrounded by familiar faces and preparing for another ridiculous situation, he found himself falling back into the usual rhythm.
He looked over everyone one last time.
"Well then..." The others braced for the instantaneous mode of travel. "Off we go."
A flash of silver light swallowed the group, and with it, the uniformed teens vanished.
---
- Anselt -
- Mist Garden -
They landed much more gently than the last time, enough to immediately take stock of their surroundings.
"Cisco," Reoloy called.
The lime-green-haired teen was already standing still, eyes closed as his senses stretched outward.
"There's no one nearby for at least a few hundred metres," he reported, further expanding his sensory radius. "I can detect several paths to the castle with reduced patrol activity, but..."
"They seem like traps," Reoloy finished.
Cisco nodded.
This was all within expectations. With each of the assembled members' specialities, they could bypass the defences with ease—unless, of course, they ran into one of the regional prominent figures from the game.
"Tangerine, coat us in nature attribute mana," he instructed calmly. "Edren, silence our movements. And Digo, prepare wind magic to control our trajectory and slow our descent... the rest of you, be ready in case something goes wrong."
The group immediately moved. No questions. No hesitation.
They had already come to understand that when Reoloy spoke with that tone, there was usually a ridiculous—but effective—plan following shortly after.
His attention then shifted to Selene.
"If you use Cisco as a medium to access his abilities, how far into the castle could you look without passing out?"
The pinkette hummed, placing a finger against her chin as she exaggeratedly pretended to consider the question.
"For a castle that size..." she said, dragging out the pause. "Probably all the way to the king's chambers."
Reoloy blinked twice.
That was... far better than expected.
"Find a gap in the western wing's courtyard or something," he said, psyching himself up for what he was about to do.
Lavere, however, narrowed her eyes.
She knew that expression.
"What exactly did you mean by 'control our motion and slow our descent'?"
"We're behind schedule, so we're flying in."
"...What?"
"You heard me."
Selene removed her hand from Cisco's head and nodded.
"Everyone hold onto each other and on the count of three..." Reoloy glanced at Digo, silently conveying trust. "Cover us in wind."
He inhaled and mustered the energy in his brain, carefully drawing it out with moderately decent control.
"One."
Leafy green mana flowed from Avron and surrounded the group, hiding their individual presences and making it so they blended in with the energy of nature.
"Two."
Edren finished casting, and a translucent barrier formed around them, isolating all their sound within its boundaries and preventing even the slightest noise from escaping.
"Three!"
Reoloy's casis surged.
His face strained trying to telekinetically lift their combined weight, the energy's glow intensifying before he flung them all at once into the night sky.
At the same moment, Digo's spell activated.
A torrent of wind erupted directly beneath the sound barrier, compressing into a dense sphere that held the group as they were hurled upward.
The acceleration drove the breath from their lungs.
Digo immediately wrestled for control, redirecting the mass hurtling through the air with his wind magic. But surprisingly, slowing something the novice casis user had launched at full force proved to be harder than they'd thought.
The castle's outer wall was approaching much earlier than expected, and they were descending before the intended section. At a speed that would almost certainly kill them on impact.
"Reoloy!" Lohan shouted over the roaring wind, instinctively grabbing the back of his coat. "That doesn't look good!"
The words broke whatever composure had existed.
"What do you mean, 'doesn't look good'?!"
"We're going to hit the wall!"
"Digo, do something!"
"He's trying!"
Their voices piled on top of one another, panic spreading through the group in an instant.
Reoloy's eyes flicked toward Digo.
The brunet mage's concentration had visibly begun to falter beneath the barrage of shouting, the wind sphere wavering ever so slightly.
The dark-clad boy's jaw tightened, then he snapped.
"Will you all just shut up and trust him, damn it!"