This was a narrow room located underground. It was dimly lit, spanning only about 10 square meters.
The walls were made of rough stone, covered in moss and the mottled marks left by time.
A crude wooden table sat in the center of the room, its surface covered in scratches from long years of use. Several equally simple wooden chairs were arranged around the table.
Their legs were somewhat unstable, letting out a *creak* with even a little pressure.
A few oil lamps hung on the walls. Their weak light could only illuminate a small area, making the entire room feel even more oppressive. Near the door sat a clay pitcher, its body worn down.
At this moment, a man wearing a coarse linen shirt stood in the center of the room with his hands behind his back, seemingly lost in thought.
His shirt was covered in patches but washed clean and tidy, showing he was a man who paid attention to detail. The man’s brow was furrowed and his face was clouded with worry; he clearly had many troubles on his mind.
Suddenly, a rapid knocking at the door broke the silence of the room.
The man turned around to see a cat-eared girl enter. Her ears twitched slightly, and her eyes betrayed exhaustion and unease.
“Phil?” he asked, his tone carrying a sense of concern.
“Captain… I’m back.”
Phil’s expression was grave. Her hands were clenched tightly in front of her, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force. She averted her gaze, not daring to look the man in the eye.
“What did you go and do?” the man’s voice was low and serious.
Phil took a deep breath and finally recounted everything — how she had pretended to be a member of the Alliance in an attempt to intercept Tii. Her voice trembled slightly, yet she struggled to remain firm, as if defending herself or perhaps waiting for punishment.
After hearing her words, Fesca’s expression changed instantly. Shock and anger flashed in his eyes. His fists clenched involuntarily, his knuckles making a faint popping sound.
“How could you do such a thing! It was too dangerous!”
“That is a Black Feather assassin! You lack experience; how could you possibly be her match?”
His tone was full of reproach, yet it carried an even deeper sense of worry.
“Furthermore, if you damage our relationship with the Alliance, what will we do in the future?”
Phil lowered her head, her ears drooping as she appeared utterly dejected.
“I’m sorry… Captain…” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “But that woman… she let me go.”
Fesca paused, frowning at her.
Phil continued, “Tii used to be a maid in the Castle. We worked together back then. Perhaps because of that, she didn’t report me to the Alliance.”
Hearing this, Fesca finally breathed a small sigh of relief, though his expression remained solemn.
“I understand. But Phil, this is a critical period. Do not take independent action again.”
Phil nodded. After a moment of silence, she gathered her courage and spoke again.
“Captain, there is one more thing I want to say.”
Fesca was slightly taken aback. “What is it?”
Phil took a deep breath, her voice trembling.
“Should we… consider cooperating with the Blood Clan?”
These words were like a sudden clap of thunder.
Fesca’s pupils constricted. He took a sharp step back, his heels making a harsh scraping sound against the floor. Almost instinctively, he pressed his hand against the hilt of the sword at his waist, his gaze locking onto Phil.
The air seemed to freeze.
However, a moment later, his hand slowly relaxed.
The girl before him was a comrade who had fought alongside him for many years. Her cat ears twitched slightly, and her eyes held a mix of unease and stubbornness. No matter how he looked at her, she didn’t seem to be lying.
Fesca took a deep breath, his voice low. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
Phil’s body trembled slightly, but she met his gaze nonetheless.
“I know it sounds absurd… but we must consider the possibility.”
She slowly lowered her head as memories of Assam City surfaced in her mind. The banner of the Rebels being trampled, the blood of her comrades staining the earth. The death of Blitz had pierced her heart like a sharp blade.
“Do you still remember the failure at Assam City?” her voice gradually grew hoarse, and the rims of her eyes reddened. “Back then, even with the combined strength of us humans and the beastfolk, we were no match for the Blood Clan. They destroyed our hopes with ease.”
“Most of the people in Ansels live under the mental control of the Blood Clan. It’s impossible to form a true resistance force.”
“Our uprising was nothing more than an egg striking a stone.”
Fesca remained silent. He knew these things, of course; he just wasn’t willing to admit them.
Phil continued, “I know the Blood Clan has caused harm. I’ve lost many comrades too. But we cannot be blinded by hatred. The Ansels of today needs new strength. Only by uniting different races do we have a chance of changing this Kingdom.”
Her voice became increasingly steady.
“Cooperating with the Blood Clan isn’t about forgetting the hatred; it’s about making sure the tragedy doesn’t repeat itself!”
The room fell into silence.
Fesca’s gaze shifted back and forth between her and the corner of the room, a fierce struggle raging within him.
Not long ago, they had received news — the Holy White River Alliance was already secretly supporting Princess Sista. This meant the situation was changing. If the Flame Society continued to cling to its original stance, it would only be left behind by the era.
Finally, Fesca nodded slowly.
“…I will call a meeting.”
—
Over the next 3 days, a massive uproar broke out within the Flame Society. Arguments were constant in the meeting room.
“Cooperate with the Blood Clan? Are you insane!” A burly man with a face full of scars slammed the table and stood up, roaring, “How many of our comrades died at their hands! This is betrayal!”
Phil bit her lip, her cat ears pinned back, yet she looked up stubbornly. “Do we have any other choice? Relying on ourselves, we cannot possibly stand against Moria and her Knight Order!”
“Then start an uprising!” another person yelled.
“Easier said than done!” Fesca suddenly spoke, his voice low and powerful. “The commoners have been oppressed for a long time; they can’t form an effective force. Furthermore, our operating space is being constantly squeezed.”
At that moment, Shesha, who had been silent all along, spoke up. “I understand Phil’s thinking… perhaps this is the only way out.”
The room fell silent once more.
Finally, after repeated arguments and a vote, they reached a difficult consensus — they would attempt to make contact with the Blood Clan.
—
After the meeting ended, Phil slumped into her chair. These 3 days felt like 3 centuries to her. She didn’t know if this decision was right or wrong. But she knew — they had no way back.
—
A foggy late autumn morning.
Fesca walked to her side and gently patted her shoulder. “Phil, are you ready? Once we step onto this path, there is no turning back.”
Phil looked up, her gaze resolute. “I’m ready.”
Fesca patted the black horse in front of her, his expression complicated. “Safe travels.”
Phil nodded and looked past him toward the comrades watching her from behind. The wind blew through her twin-tails, and her expression gradually became determined.
She would serve as the representative of the Flame Society to seek out that Blood Noble Princess — Sista. This was for the revolution, and for the future.
At the same time, a hidden trace of expectation was buried deep in her heart.
—
‘Su Ling…’
‘Is she still by Sista’s side?’
The Kingdom was in turmoil, and even the Princess was displaced. It had been a long time since she had seen that silver-haired girl.
‘If we can meet again —’
‘This time, I must rescue Su Ling.’
She was no longer the palace maid who only fought for small gains. Today, she was an indispensable member of the Flame Society, a comrade worth relying on.
And because of that — she could no longer run away.
She would win this revolution. Then, she would repay everything she had once owed.