A lone figure stood before a monolithic pair of 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 that had been ground into the dust of history. On her breastplate, the golden crest of Aurelyth was cracked — a sun that had finally set — yet it caught the reflection of a glowing cross, an emblem curiously crowned with a silver circle and a crescent moon symbol at its peak, like a silent observer of the night.
"Enter, o' brave knight of Aurelyth."
The voice was like a chime of silver against marble, echoing from the depths of the sanctuary.
The knight took a long, shuddering breath, her eyelids fluttering shut for a heartbeat before they snapped open with a renewed, hollow determination. She placed her palm upon the pommel of her sword — a familiar weight in an unfamiliar world — and pushed. The gates groaned open, yielding to her touch.
Past the doors lay a realm of crystalline brilliance. The ceilings were vast spans of architectural glass, and towering windows acted as conduits for the sunlight above, turning the atmosphere into a sea of swimming white.
In the center of this radiance stood a man. He was of a height that commanded respect without needing to tower, his hair as white as a mountain peak and his eyes a piercing, liquid gold. He held a leather-bound book, the same crescent-cross logo embossed upon its cover in gold leaf.
"Answer our lord and savior, knight of Aurelyth," he said, the sound of the book snapping shut echoing like a gunshot as he turned his golden gaze toward her "What has exactly happened on that day?"
The knight collapsed onto one knee, her movements robotic and heavy. She drove her sword into the floor, her hands gripping the handle as if it were the only thing keeping her from drifting away into the light.
"We attacked Crimvane on that day, fully aware of their supposed inferiority... but even with the high priests 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 narrowing.
"We were winning," the knight whispered, her chin tilting down as a bead of sweat traced a path through the grime on her face. "But suddenly, a massive surge of magic erupted — a tidal wave of Aether that claimed hundreds in an instant. But... more than that, a human arrived at the battlefield. He moved like a madman, slaughtering anyone in his path with a smile that defied logic. He took the second prince's life as if it were a common weed. He changed the percentages of war into a grim certainty in mere seconds."
The man's eyes sharpened, his pupils contracting into fine points. He turned slowly, looking up at a towering, featureless statue that loomed behind him in the shadows.
"What was this man like? And what of Duke Gemsh's calculated plan?"
"The man seemed... normal at first glance, except for his personality. And 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 of the deception."
"Crimvane's ruler?" The man turned back, a ghost of a sneer on his lips. "You mean that doll princess?"
"She does not match the rumors in the slightest," the knight countered, her voice trembling. "She manipulated my mind — perhaps a skill beyond my understanding — and she spared no one, not even those who threw down their steel. She was just like the man. She claimed they were partners."
"Then, how did you escape her judgment? You are not to lie in front of our god."
"She ordered me to take my own life, but I survived through the grace of my skill. I fled the moment her attention wavered and came here to report."
The man stared at her for a long, suffocating silence. He finally closed his eyes and sighed, a mix of annoyance and cold calculation washing over his features.
"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 then smiled, a thin, predatory expression that didn't reach his eyes. "You are dismissed, knight of Aurelyth. We shall dissect the smaller details later."
The knight stood up, her armor clanking as she turned back toward the doors. As she walked away, the man's voice followed her, whispered like a curse.
"Be our god's mercy upon you."
***
Kaelen moved his body forward with slow, rhythmic steps. His hand rested habitually on his sword's pommel, his other arm swaying with a knight's economy of motion, his eyes scanning the urban surroundings with the vigilance of a hawk.
This time, however, he was clad in pure black armor that seemed to drink the light of the city. It fitted his frame with surgical precision, with a faint crimson glow emanating from the seams at certain angles as thorns of dark metal pulled out from the pauldrons and gauntlets. The armor looked less like a defensive shell and more like an outfit itself.
It was a Low Mythic Grade masterpiece — a gift from Vionette. Since they couldn't hold a formal ceremony for his new station, she had provided this instead. The dragon girl, Elina, had complained about her scales being used for the tempering, the blacksmith had nearly worked himself into a coma, and the final design had been all Noa's doing.
"I'll get anything that is delicious and expensive," Rose spoke beside him, her voice carrying a rare, hungry edge.
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, her posture a perfect line of domestic authority.
"Good then," Vionette said, turning toward the waiter with a regal air that even casual clothes couldn't hide. "We'll have... this, this, and this."
She was draped in her new striking black attire—the outfit she had gotten on the very day Elina had gotten hers. Her one arm was tucked snugly beneath the curve of her chest, while her other elbow rested in that hand's palm, her chin propped up as she surveyed the menu.
"That looks almost like Kimchi Stew," Noa muttered, leaning in to look closely at the magical parchment. "I guess it's because the picture's made from magic? It looks... familiar."
"That doesn't change anything, moron," Vionette replied, ignoring his nostalgia. She turned toward a vacant table, her eyes already dismissing him. "Let's go sit and wait for our food."
They walked toward the table, the atmosphere of the restaurant shifting as they passed. 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, let alone royals, but it possessed a clean, intellectual charm. White glass spheres hung from the ceiling, absorbing Aether from the air and emitting a soft, steady glow. The concrete walls were a pristine white, decorated with portraits and the shadows cast by heavy stone pillars. The tables were made of polished wood, and the chairs had just enough padding to feel like a luxury to a weary traveler.
It was the kind of place where normal people could enjoy a moment of peace with a bit of coin — exactly the kind of environment Noa and Vionette preferred.
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 place where secrets were the primary currency and the libraries were considered holy ground.
"Here is your order, please enjoy."
After a long wait that felt like an eternity to their hungry stomachs, the waiters arrived with a parade of bowls. They placed the food with practiced speed before vanishing back into the steam of the kitchen. The reflection of the hot meals appeared in the sparkling eyes of the four companions as they looked down with pure, unadulterated delight.
Creak.
"These are orders from the Church of the God Liara! Everyone stop moving!"
Noa had just lowered his spoon toward the stew, his hunger reaching a breaking point, when the doors were kicked open. A group of men clad in white armor surged into the room, their voices booming with the arrogance of the divine.
While every other patron froze in their seats, the four at the central table didn't even look up. They simply continued to enjoy their meal as if the interruption were nothing more than a buzzing fly.
Tap.
"Didn't you hear what we said? Don't move a muscle."
A knight stepped forward, the cold edge of his sword coming to rest on Noa's shoulder, inches from the skin of his neck.
"What are your identities?" A woman's voice cut through the tension. She was the leader, closing in on them with a grace that was as sharp as her spear. "We ask you to tell us the truth before anyone gets harmed."
She had golden hair pulled back into a high ponytail that transitioned into an intricate braid at the end. Her armor was a pristine white, bearing a crest of a golden cross with a blooming golden rose behind it. She was slightly shorter than Vionette, her face possessing a remarkable, sharpened beauty that felt like a polished blade.
A maid, a knight, a beautiful woman with a thin aura, and... a man with no aura at all.
Jain Fumwor scanned the party. She knew that if there was a maid, there had to be a noble present, yet no one here wore the heavy fabrics or jewels of the high-born. Furthermore, a maid would never sit and eat as an equal with her lords in any kingdom Jain had ever visited.
"Our identities?" Noa asked, finally looking up. His black eyes met her blue ones, the contrast like ink dropping into a clear lake. "And who exactly 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 for the restaurant's décor, knowing Noa's nature all too well. Poor knight, just trying to do his job, about to meet a monster.
Jain stared into those purple-tinted black irises, and for a fleeting second, a primal chill ran down her spine. Her instincts screamed at her to jump back, but she forced herself to blink, maintaining her composure. She lowered her head slightly and smiled, a practiced, diplomatic expression.
"There have been some incidents around here, and we are here to ensure the safety of the populace. So, we kindly ask you to reveal your identities. We won't do any harm if you cooperate."
"I don—"
"Okay, we'll give you our information," Vionette interrupted, turning toward the Saint with a disarming, sweet 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... heheh~ how very interesting." Vionette's smile took on a mischievous, feline quality. "I'm Vionette. Vionette Crimvane."
A royal? What's a royal doing in a common restaurant like this? Jain thought, but her suspicion didn't waver.
Even after hearing the name of a ruling house, the knights behind her didn't lower their weapons. Their intensity remained high, a wall of cold, divine steel.
Noa watched them, and the sight of the swords staying level with Vionette made his eyebrows curl upward. His eyes began to swim with a dark, fragmented insanity, his mouth curving into a sinister smile.
"My apologies for our rudeness, your majesty Vionette," Jain said, offering a shallow bow that felt more like a formality than a sign of respect. "But your titles do not hold weight in this city-state. So, please, coopera—"
"Exactly, you fucker."
Jain snapped her head toward the voice. Noa was smiling now, a wide, terrifying expression, even with the knight's sword still hovering inches from his jugular.
"Our titles don't matter here... and that includes you," Noa said, his voice dropping into a low, predatory growl.
He didn't turn his head, but his irises slid to the side to lock onto the knight holding the sword.
"So, get this guy away from me before he sees the gates of the underworld. 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 wood, a black sword was trembling. It wasn't a tremor of fear; it was a violent, evil vibration, an intensity of bloodlust so thick it seemed to be screaming to be drawn so it could feast on the knight's life.
"Nick, back off. Lower your steel," Jain ordered, her grip tightening around her spear.
"Don't worry, he's just a bit cranky because he had a rough morning," Vionette said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Jain's shoulder with a casual air that made the Saint flinch. "Isn't that right, Noa?"
Noa's terrifying smile vanished instantly. It was replaced by a blank, wide-eyed expression of pure, unadulterated confusion. His mouth hung half-open, his eyes blinking rapidly.
"W-wha—Ah! Yes! Yes! My bad! I was just... thinking about something else that made me mad! I'm so sorry!"
"See~?" Vionette turned back to the stunned Jain, her smile like that of an innocent kitten. "No problemo at all."
From the side, Rose looked at Kaelen, her own bewilderment written across her face. They both watched the sudden shift in the couple's personality with a sense of whiplash.
What the hell is going on with them? Rose's eyes screamed.
Kaelen merely looked back, his stoic face twitching in a silent 'I don't know either'.
…
The chaos was eventually quelled, and the atmosphere in the restaurant settled into an uneasy truce. Jain now sat opposite Noa and Vionette, while Kaelen and Rose stood like silent sentinels behind them. The other knights were busy cross-referencing information with the other cowering patrons.
"I apologize for that scene again," Vionette said, tilting her head with a grace that felt like silk.
"Please, do not worry about it," Jain replied, shaking 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 as she watched Vionette's warm demeanor.
While Jain was coming to the conclusion that they were just eccentric travelers, Noa was looking at Vionette out of the corner of his eye.
...
...
[Character Illustrations]