“Your Highness, it’s an honor to meet you at this banquet! Only nobles like you are truly worthy of our loyalty.”
“For the Iris Princess to give up the interests that rightfully belong to the nobility and hand them to the commoners—it’s simply disgraceful.”
If Cielsa heard this, she would have laughed mockingly without mercy. The cake was hers to make bigger, and she could share it with whomever she wanted. She didn’t touch yours, so what’s your hurry?
“Viscount Locke, I’m pleased by your appreciation,” Phyllis replied.
Every ounce of power was worth pursuing; the pressure from his sister was simply overwhelming.
Phew—after dealing with all the nobles, he escaped to a corner and let out a breath.
In the glittering, golden hall, the banquet was already halfway through, and most of the castle’s nobles wore tipsy expressions.
It was time.
So thought Phyllis, gently crushing the magic crystal in his hand.
Tonight’s plan could not fail… He looked off into the distance, at the Kant Manor shrouded in night.
***
At a Pasture within the manor, an Alchemical Golem awakened.
It shouted into the empty field, “Stupid dragon, time to wake up. Stupid dragon, time to wake up!”
It lifted a huge transparent cloth, revealing a massive figure slumbering before it—a Red Dragon.
A menacing head, muscular limbs—seen from afar, it looked like a small mountain. With each breath, its gigantic heart beat so powerfully that the ground seemed to tremble.
A killing machine. Yet the Golem was unfazed. Seeing that its ruckus had no effect, its fist shifted and transformed, and a drill emerged in its hand.
“This is such a pain, waking up this stupid dragon is always so much trouble.”
The drill on the Golem’s hand began to spin at high speed, stabbing at the Red Dragon’s neck and scraping against the hard scales, sending a shower of sparks flying.
“Mmm… Jack? Is it time?”
The Red Dragon finally awoke, its molten gold eyes opening into vertical slits.
“Nonsense, hurry up and spit me out. I always have to do this to wake you.” The Golem complained.
“No choice, a short hibernation like this still damages a dragon’s body. It’s just that lowering my vital signs to the minimum makes it harder to be discovered.”
The Red Dragon spoke, opening its huge jaws.
A black hole appeared in its mouth, and one after another, black-robed figures stepped out from within.
“I was suffocating in there—Ude’s mouth is just too stifling. It’s all the Academy’s ‘Sage’s’ fault; under his prophecy spells, we’ve been living like rats. But now, it’s time to make a little chaos.”
One figure landed first, speaking excitedly, emitting a crisp sound of metal clashing.
“With all due respect, Jack. Your task is to keep that Sword Saint occupied. That’s no easy feat, but as for that Mage Duke, that’s actually much simpler.”
A hunched black-robed figure said, his voice as raspy as withered wood.
“I really envy you. You just have to catch a young noble, and yet they send out three Masters. Meanwhile, I have to face two Masters all on my own,” Jack said.
“Why don’t we switch? I’ve always wanted to fight that Sword Saint—I heard he killed a dragon,” said the Red Dragon, Ude.
“No. I like a challenge,” Jack refused.
“Alright, alright, let’s begin as planned. We must show our partners our sincerity.” The black-robed figure who had been silent finally spoke, a knight’s sword hanging at his waist.
El held the “White Rose” in his hands, his expression complicated.
In the end, just as he said, he couldn’t bear to let his lover suffer so much. So, even during their cold war (to be precise, it was only one-sided), he still cared deeply about Aurelia’s feelings.
He never blamed Aurelia; he completely understood her actions, and she had explained much in her letters.
El admitted that he still loved Aurelia deeply, but he also felt that his Lia had betrayed their love—in the end, she was the one who suggested the breakup.
That experience left him with wounds too deep, and he needed time for them to heal.
Aurelia didn’t linger on it. She gave El a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s alright, I can wait for that day.”
“Thank you for understanding, Lia.”
El felt a bit awkward. Strictly speaking, they weren’t really a couple right now. But tonight, after accepting Aurelia’s gift, he couldn’t just turn her down.
“Hehe… why are you still shy? It’s like when we first met.” She chuckled. “But that’s good too. We can start over.”
Suddenly, a deep voice rang out from the sky: “Sorry to interrupt your date, Miss Godefiel, but might we borrow your companion for a moment?”
The moonlight—no, the entire sky—was blotted out, casting an immense shadow.
Then, after a thunderous crash and the dust settled, El recognized what it was.
A living, crimson Red Dragon, with two black-robed men on its back.
Aurelia sensed their ill intent. “What are you planning? I warn you, this is the Second Prince’s banquet. Whatever you do, the Empire will bring justice upon you.”
“The Second Prince? He can barely protect himself now. Miss Godefiel, we wish to resolve this peacefully—after all, we really don’t want to rough up a lady.”
“If you’re wise, please stay out of this. We’ll end this little farce quickly, and hope it won’t spoil your evening…”
Before the black-robed man could finish, Aurelia’s flying sword blasted his head apart.
Waves of golden ripples unfolded behind Aurelia, forming a screen of light—the sword had just flown from within those ripples.
But the feeling was off. Aurelia frowned.
Sure enough, as the black sludge squirmed at his neck, the black-robed man’s head gradually regenerated. Through the “Arcane Eye,” El saw that his body was formed by a strange ritual.
“Miss Godefiel, it’s not too late to regret. Blades are blind, and though we won’t take your life, it would be a shame if a lady’s face were to be scarred…”
The Red Dragon interrupted, “Enough, stop wasting words. This girl’s eyes say it all—she won’t be swayed by your petty threats. Let’s get to it, Taiwen.”
Taiwen… It was really him! Aurelia had heard that name before—a knight of the North who had broken his oath.
Once a most promising Titled Knight, but after causing the Blood Massacre, he vanished without a trace. In the end, he joined the Demonic Cult.
“The Demonic Cult—are you targeting El?” Aurelia demanded.
“Bingo, Miss Godefiel. You’re right, but there’s no prize for you.” The black-robed man swept his knight’s sword in a broad arc.