Deep within the Royal Capital of the Kingdom of Lunaris, tucked away in a secluded corner of the gardens, stood a sealed workshop.
It was a sanctuary belonging solely to the Lunar Monarch. Since its completion by the previous King, no second soul had ever been permitted to cross its threshold.
On this particular day, the courtyard was unusually restless.
Attendants hurried back and forth, hauling crate after crate of materials to the workshop's heavy doors. Metals, rare herbs, runestones, and crystals... they were piled into a silent mountain of resources. No one knew their purpose; they knew only that this was the Queen's absolute command.
Once the final crate was lowered, the order was given for everyone to withdraw.
Silence reclaimed the courtyard, leaving only a single figure behind.
The Queen stepped forward, her pace slow and deliberate. Her gaze swept over the gathered materials as if she were inspecting the front lines of a battle yet to begin. After a long moment, she offered a sharp, singular nod.
She lifted a finger.
An invisible ripple of power distorted the air. In the next heartbeat, every piece of material drifted upward simultaneously. Guided by unseen threads, they glided into the workshop one by one, disappearing behind the yawning darkness of the doorway.
The heavy doors groaned shut, sealing out the world—and with it, the light.
Inside the workshop, the gloom was absolute.
The Queen stood at the center of the chamber. From the heap of resources, she retrieved two crystals, each the size of a human head. They were flawlessly clear, yet possessed a depth so profound they seemed capable of swallowing light itself.
"Nine days remains..." she murmured to herself. Her voice echoed hollowly in the cavernous space.
"Rather than squandering mana daily on forces insufficient to turn the tides of war..." Her gaze darkened with a cold intensity. "It is better... to gamble it all on a single throw."
She placed the twin crystals upon the central ritual altar and slowly raised her hands.
In an instant, a torrent of incantations surged from her fingertips. Radiant light—spun into threads and ribbons—intertwined and spiraled through the air, weaving a dense, suffocating magic circle. Slowly, the array began to sink into the hollow shell of a "Puppet" that had yet to take form.
The very fabric of space seemed to warp around it.
Time became slow and heavy, dragging through the stifling air of the workshop.
After an immeasurable silence, the radiance finally began to recede. The Queen ceased her movements at last, a thin veil of perspiration glistening upon her brow as she exhaled a long, weary breath.
"I truly have no talent for this sort of craft..." she murmured to herself. Her tone was flat, yet it carried a trace of exhaustion so faint it was nearly imperceptible. "But... it is enough."
She turned her gaze toward the ritual altar. The two crystals had been utterly transformed; their sharp, jagged edges were gone, replaced by smooth, perfectly rounded orbs. Within their translucent depths, a wisp of dark crimson light ebbed and flowed—a dormant life force that had yet to open its eyes.
The Queen scrutinized them with a cold, clinical intensity.
"If all goes according to plan..." Her voice was so calm it bordered on indifference. "These will be more than sufficient to take her life."
She hesitated for a fleeting second. "And if... we have not succeeded before the full moon arrives—" Her eyes lingered on that crimson swirl within the crystal. "No matter."
Her voice dropped an octave, growing even more resolute. "At the very least, they will serve another purpose."
She turned away and pushed open the heavy workshop doors. The light of the outside world surged back in, reclaiming the gloom.
"Someone, come here."
From the distance, a guardsman heard the command and approached at a dead run, dropping to one knee. "Your Majesty, what are your orders?"
"What of the Grand General?" the Queen asked, not deigning to look at him. Her voice was thin and sharp. "Has he located Lunethia yet?"
The guard lowered his head further. "To answer Your Majesty... there have been no reports as of yet. The Grand General... he is still committing all forces to the search."
The air grew still for a heartbeat. The Queen's brow knit into a slight, dangerous furrow.
"...Useless."
The word was uttered softly, yet it was so frigid that the guard dared not lift his gaze. Shortly after, as if having reached a final decision, her composure returned to its usual icy calm.
"Pass down my decree."
"For the coming days, I shall remain secluded within this workshop." She paused. "Aside from news regarding Lunethia... I am to be disturbed with nothing else."
She hesitated once more, as if a sudden thought had crossed her mind, and added with an air of casual detachment:
"And one more thing—should any small animals approach the Royal Capital, do not drive them away."
The guardsman faltered for a fraction of a second.
The command was utterly jarring, a bizarre non sequitur amidst orders of war and assassination. Yet, he dared not voice his confusion. He merely pressed his forehead lower and replied, "As you command, Your Majesty."
The Queen offered no further word. She turned and retreated into the depths of the workshop. The heavy doors groaned shut behind her, as if sealing every dark intent within the cold stone.
[Starfall Cliff · The Frostline]
The wind cut like a jagged blade.
Upon the mountain's peak, the swirling snow blurred the world into a singular, blinding canvas of white. A soldier struggled through the drifts to deliver his report.
"General, the search of the summit is complete. No hiding places were discovered. The blizzard has scoured away every trace... even the hounds have lost the scent."
The Grand General stood amidst the biting cold, his eyes narrowing as he glared into the white void. After a long silence, he let out a sharp, frigid huff.
"A waste of breath and blood."
His voice was thick with an impatience he no longer bothered to suppress. "To think I was dispatched to endure this wretched misery." He muttered a low curse, the sound nearly swallowed by the howling gale. "Sooner or later, I'll ensure she learns exactly who truly rules this Kingdom."
The soldier's expression shifted, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper. "General, such words..."
"Enough."
The Grand General dismissed him with a sharp, irritant wave of his hand. "If the girl cannot be found, then she will not be found." He spoke with a blunt finality, as if declaring a universal truth. "Break the search. Establish camp at the foot of the mountain."
A cold sneer twisted his lips. "She gave us seven days, did she not? Very well. We shall spend the first four days in rest and recreation. On the fifth, we return to deliver our failure."
The soldier hesitated, unable to bite back his worry. "But... should she demand an accounting for this..."
The Grand General turned his head. The look in his eyes was so predatory it strangled the soldier's words in his throat.
"She?" He let out a short, derisive bark of laughter, dripping with pure contempt. "What would she dare do?"
The blizzard roared around them. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low growl that held no shadow of respect.
"She is nothing more than a woman devoid of a single drop of Royal blood." He paused, his smirk widening into something jagged and dangerous. "She has sat upon that throne for ten years on nothing but pure, blind luck."
"Her time is up."
The soldier's brow broke into a fine cold sweat. He offered a cautious, trembling reminder: "But... General, regardless of the past, she remains Her Majesty the Queen."
"Her Majesty?"
The Grand General repeated the title slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue. Then, he let out a sharp, jagged laugh.
"Ten years ago, perhaps she was truly a creature of terror. But these last ten years—" He lifted his head slowly, an icy, predatory light flashing in his eyes. "They have proven everything. The Kingdom of Lunaris today..." He slowly tightened his fist. "...is nothing more than a bird trapped within my palm."
Inside the command tent, the firelight flickered unevenly. He raised his chalice and drained the wine in a single, aggressive gulp. As the liquid burned down his throat, his gaze grew increasingly feverish and gluttonous.
"Mobilizing the grand army... still requires a breath more time," he murmured with a low, dark chuckle. "Let that little Princess enjoy her final few days of 'happiness'."
[Starfall Cliff · The Shelter]
The massive stone walls of the cavern held the blizzard at bay, yet the interior was thick with an unbearable, stifling silence. The group huddled in their respective corners, their very breathing hushed as if the mountain itself had ears.
Rhine leaned back against the damp rock, a low grumble escaping his throat. "Dammit... there are more soldiers out there by the hour. We can't even speak at a normal volume. This silence is killing me."
Gareth clutched his stomach, his face a mask of theatrical agony. "Lunchtime passed ages ago... Why haven't they left yet? I don't even dare light a fire. The fish are starting to look at me with hunger in their eyes."
Rena rolled her eyes and snapped in a harsh whisper, "Is it the fish that are hungry, or just your fat head? Instead of complaining, why don't you practice your Chakras circulation or do some strength training?"
Owen, meanwhile, sat perched to the side, calmly gnawing on a half-frozen fish. "It's actually edible raw," he noted tonelessly. "Chip away the ice, carve out the entrails and the blood clots... the flavor is tolerable."
Milia couldn't help but lean in, her face etched with genuine concern. "Owen... eating it like that... are you sure you won't get sick?"
It was then that Lunethia spoke up softly.
"Actually... can't Rhine's Divine Fire be used to control the temperature?"
The group blinked in unison, momentarily stunned. Her tone remained gentle and earnest. "If we use just a tiny flame to heat things slowly, it shouldn't produce any smoke... which means we won't expose our position."
Rhine froze. He looked at her, as if a lightbulb had suddenly flickered on in his mind. Then, he let out a low, rare chuckle.
"...Good idea."
Rena's brow arched, her gaze instantly becoming thick with implication. "Did I hear that correctly?"
Gareth joined in, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard it too... Did the Boss just actually compliment someone?"
Rhine stiffened. He immediately knit his brows, his tone snapping back to its usual prickly edge. "Shut it. I just think—" He paused, averting his eyes. "It's a perfect opportunity to practice my precision control over the Divine Fire."
Rena narrowed her eyes, her gaze flitting between the two of them as a slow, knowing smirk spread across her lips. "Ooh—is that so?" She dragged out the syllables. "I was wondering, you two—"
"Be quiet."
Rhine cut her off almost instantly, his voice a frantic, low-volume hiss. He waved his hand dismissively, as if trying to swat away her words. "Don't go imagining things. There's nothing to tell."
A beat of silence descended upon the cavern. But this silence... carried a far more delicate, unnamable atmosphere than the one before.
Lunethia gave it some serious thought, then nodded slowly. "Mm... we just talked for a while, and then we fell asleep." She paused, tilting her head slightly in confusion. "Wait... was something supposed to happen?"
The air in the cave seemed to solidify. Rena's eyes snapped wide, shimmering with excitement.
"Wait—are you saying..." Her whisper was desperate to remain quiet yet vibrated with thrill. "You two slept together!?"
Gareth and Owen shared a look before simultaneously flashing Rhine a thumbs-up, their grins dripping with subtext.
"Not bad, Boss." "Rapid progress indeed."
"Yes," Lunethia looked at them, her expression purely puzzled. "Is there something wrong with that?"
Milia's cheeks instantly flared a deep crimson as she stammered in a small, frantic voice, "B-but... he's a man... you can't just—"
"Hey, you lot—!"
Rhine's face turned a thunderous shade of red. Just as he was about to explode, Gareth and Owen lunged from both sides, clamping their hands over his mouth.
"Shhh! Keep it down!" "There are soldiers right outside, Boss!"
Their lips were offering caution, but their ears were practically twitching with the intensity of their eavesdropping.
Lunethia blinked, tilting her head in genuine contemplation. "A boy... is there a problem with that?" She looked at them with wide, innocent eyes. "I used to sleep alongside Mr. White Rabbit all the time when I was little. He was a man, too."
"..."
An eerie, heavy silence descended upon the cavern. Rena slapped a hand to her forehead with a weary sigh, reaching out to give the Princess a gentle, pitying pat on the shoulder.
"You..." she muttered. "You are truly, hopelessly innocent."
Rhine finally tore himself free from his captors, taking a sharp, jagged breath before hissing in a suppressed fury, "What kind of twisted nonsense are you all imagining!? Do I look like that kind of man to you!?"
"It's exactly because you don't that we're so curious," Gareth noted, nodding with profound solemnity.
Owen delivered the clinical finishing blow from the sidelines. "Indeed. It makes the whole situation far more suspicious."
"You—!" A vein throbbed visibly at Rhine's temple.
Gareth, as if struck by a sudden realization, let out a mischievous snicker. "Come to think of it, hasn't Gerald been playing matchmaker for you for years? All those noble ladies, and you didn't spare a single one a second glance." He narrowed his eyes. "We were all starting to suspect... that you simply weren't interested in women at all."
Milia couldn't help but hide a giggle behind her hand, her eyes dancing with playfulness. "And wasn't there a plan to set you up with Rena at one point?"
"Hey!" Rena's face flushed. "Why are you dragging me into this? You were one of the potential brides on that list too, you know!"
Gareth froze, looking back at her as if he'd suddenly lost the ability to process human speech. "...What?"
The next second, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"WHAT!? Milia, you too!?"
Milia's face flushed a frantic crimson. She waved her hands in a blur of denial, her voice a jumble of panicked syllables. "I—I never said that! It was Rhine himself who said he had no interest in me!"
"HUH!?"
Gareth's expression shifted again. This time, he practically slammed his hand onto the stone table, his voice low but vibrating with indignant fury. "Rhine! That is going way too far!"
He glared at Rhine with utter disbelief. "A girl as wonderful as Milia, and you have 'no interest'? Just what kind of impossible standards are you harboring!?"
"WHAT did you just say!?"
A vein throbbed violently at Rhine's temple. He couldn't help but hiss back in a strangled roar, "Weren't you the one just accusing me of not being interested in women at all!?"
He stared at Gareth, looking like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. "And now suddenly I'm the one going too far!? What exactly do you want from me!?"
The stifling gloom of the cavern was thoroughly shattered by this hushed, chaotic bickering. Yet, even amidst the teasing and the tempers, no one's voice dared to cross that invisible "danger line"—the boundary beyond which the soldiers outside might hear.
Lunethia quickly stepped in, her hands raised in a shushing gesture. "Lower your voices... we are still in hiding. Don't let the soldiers outside hear us."
The group froze, falling into an instant, heavy silence. The air grew taut once more. After a moment, Rena tilted her head, listening intently for any movement above. Only when she was certain the silence held did she let out a slow, cautious breath.
"...I don't think we were heard." She turned her sharp gaze to Gareth. "Go up and confirm."
"Yeah, yeah, fine," Gareth grumbled. He lowered the makeshift drawbridge and cautiously scaled the rope ladder.
Silence reclaimed the cavern. A short while later, his head poked back down through the opening, his voice a low whisper: "Confirmed. They've pulled out. The coast is clear."
A collective wave of relief washed over the group. Rhine exhaled a long breath, his tone dropping back into its habitual low, steady resonance.
"Good."
He looked at his companions, his gaze once again clear and sobering. "Factoring in the travel time to the Royal Capital, we still need to remain hidden for another six days. We cannot afford an early exposure."
"Then what are we waiting for—" Gareth, having instantly recovered his spirits, spun around with an energetic shout. "Boss! Roast us some meat already—"
THWACK.
Rhine delivered a blunt, unsympathetic flick to the back of Gareth's head.
"You idiot," Rhine grumbled, his brow furrowed. "The enemy is gone. Can't you light a damn fire yourself?"
A ripple of suppressed laughter echoed softly through the cave.
The lingering tension was finally, fitfully, dispelled.
It was then that Rena suddenly wiped the mirth from her face. She turned to Lunethia, her gaze sharpening into something profoundly serious. "Thea, there is something I must ask you. Clearly."
Lunethia blinked, offering a small, steady nod. "Yes, go ahead."
Rena looked her straight in the eye. "Are you... absolutely certain that the current Queen is a pretender?"
The words fell like stones into a still pool. The laughter from moments ago was instantly reclaimed by the silence. Lunethia fell quiet for a heartbeat. Then, a faint, bittersweet smile touched her lips.
"Rhine... he already told me his thoughts," she said, her voice soft but devoid of any urge to hide. "But regardless of truth or falsehood—" She lifted her head, her gaze quiet and unyielding. "I want to face her myself. I want to know what the truth really is."
She took a shallow, steadying breath. "Perhaps, if we just have one honest conversation... many things can be unraveled."
Rena stared at her, a tremor of emotion flickering in her eyes. In the next instant, she threw her arms wide and pulled Lunethia into a fierce embrace.
"Thea—you're way too strong for your own good!" her voice cracked with a hint of a sob, though she fought to keep it low. "Don't be afraid. Big sister is here for you!"
Lunethia froze for a second, then gave a gentle laugh, reaching up to pat Rena's back. "...Thank you."
Rhine leaned against the cavern wall, arms crossed, silently observing the scene. After a moment, he spoke. His voice wasn't loud, yet it caused the atmosphere to sink once more into gravity.
"Regardless of truth or falsehood—" His gaze turned frigid. "On the day of the Winter Moon Festival, if the enemy appears, we must fight." He paused. "And... the Scarlet Witch is highly likely to show herself as well."
The air in the cave grew leaden. He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the Princess.
"Thea." His voice dropped an octave. "If that person... truly is your mother..." He looked away, his gaze falling into the shifting shadows. "You can walk away when the time comes."
His tone was flat, almost mechanical in its calm. "Leave the rest—to us."
Silence reclaimed the cave. Owen, leaning nearby as he gnawed on a strip of dried frozen fish, spoke up with his usual toneless detachment. "Thinking too much is useless." He glanced at the group. "We'll deal with things as they come. One step at a time."
"For now—all we can do is wait."
Rhine let out a short, helpless huff. "Only a brain as simple as yours could make it sound so easy." He paused, as if forcibly pushing his spiraling thoughts back into a box. "We'll wait for the old man to wake up, then we'll decide our next move together."
The candle flame flickered rhythmically.
The amber light danced against the stone walls, stretching their shadows into elongated, wavering silhouettes. Outside, the blizzard showed no sign of relenting. Low, rhythmic howls drifted in from the distance—an omen of a storm yet to break.
And they simply sat there, in the quiet dark, waiting.