Nestled among rolling green hills, Gorging Village lay cradled within stout stone walls.
"Theal, I need a ride to Port Ravenous." Siah stretched lazily, taking a seat across from Theal and snatching the last piece of bread from his hands.
Theal ignored Siah's act, calmly sipping his tea.
"What made you take Mr. Michael's offer?" he asked, his voice even.
Siah scoffed. "How do you plan on performing your knightly duties blindfolded?"
Theal placed his teacup down gently, the motion deliberate. He rose to his feet, his posture straight and composed, ready to leave.
Siah grinned mischievously and reached out to pull Theal's blindfold off—but his hand was stopped midair by Theal's tight grip. The pressure made Siah flinch, his grin fading into a grimace.
"Such strength… so you got your Stillness," Siah muttered, rubbing his arm as Theal released him.
Theal's tone remained calm, unshaken. "Go prepare yourself. The carriage will be arriving soon."
Siah sneered. "You are finally a Stillness, yet you still act so stuck up."
Theal ignored the remark and walked out of the house.
---
Drawn by a chestnut steed, the carriage rolled with stately grace—its polished wood gleaming, its gilded edges catching the afternoon sun. Theal handed the coachman a five Grelly note before stepping inside.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of cedar and worn leather.
---
Meanwhile, Siah tossed his bedsheets aside, searching frantically. "Damn it! Where is it? That bastard Theal will leave without me—I can't walk all the way to Port Ravenous!"
After a futile search, he gave up and instead grabbed Theal's neatly folded white shirt from the table. Grinning, he slipped it on.
"It smells good. This way, I get a clean top—and if he doesn't like it, he can reveal his new mysterious power and beat it off me," Siah chuckled to himself.
He dashed outside, catching sight of the moving carriage. Without hesitation, he sprinted forward, jumped, and swung himself inside, landing with a thud across from Theal.
Theal's nose twitched slightly at the familiar scent. Without turning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty Grelly note. His tone was calm, almost indifferent.
"Get yourself new clothes. You should look presentable to a potential employer."
Siah snatched the note, sneering. "So now that you're a knight, help me figure out what the black lines on my chest are."
Theal rested his chin on his palm, his gaze still turned to the window. When he spoke, his voice carried a quiet weight.
"The only thing I will do for you is seek a way to remove them."
Siah furrowed his brows, his tone turning mocking. "Are you jealous that I'm special?"
Theal didn't respond.
Siah clicked his tongue. "With your eyes wrapped up like that, I'm guessing the Pantheon did something to you."
Still, Theal remained silent.
Siah chuckled darkly. "I knew you hated your eyes. We share the same color as Mother's—I wouldn't be surprised if you somehow altered them."
For a moment, Theal's calm faltered; a faint frown creased his lips. But just as quickly, his expression returned to its usual serenity.
Siah nodded in satisfaction. "Now you and I don't share any traits. That's good. Now that you've removed the only physical trait tying you to Mother, I'm not angry that you're a Pantheon dog anymore."
Theal's voice dropped to a low, sorrowful tone. "It's unfortunate that my foul blood can't be changed."
Siah's expression hardened, his features twisting with furious intensity. Silence filled the carriage.
Moments later, the carriage came to a stop.
Siah stood, ready to step out. But just as his foot crossed the doorway, he noticed Theal—lost in thought—turned slightly, the sunlight piercing the carriage and catching his face. His pulled off the blind, meeting Theal's pupil less eyes inked completely black.
Siah froze one leg off the carriage.
In a low, controlled voice, Theal chanted, "Adhesion: Tensile Fracture."
In Theal's line of sight, he focus his gaze on a stone wall separating the nearby street vendors. Before Siah could react, he was yanked toward the wall by a sticky force, crashing through the wall as a thunderous shockwave rippled through the busy market street.
The crowd screamed. Dust filled the air.
Inside the carriage, Theal exhaled softly, shutting the door close. With a gentle knock on the door, he signaled the coachman to continue their journey.
Groaning, Siah pushed himself up from the rubble, dazed. Vendors hurried to his side, helping him stand. He staggered, clutching his shoulder, his eyes wide with disbelief that quickly turned to exhilaration.
"That freak… his Stillness technique is amazing!" he shouted, laughing wildly.
The vendors exchanged uneasy glances as Siah's laughter echoed through the street. Eventually, he calmed himself, realizing the attention he'd drawn.
He wiped the blood from his shoulder, his torn shirt hanging loose. Turning to a young female vendor, he smiled despite his pain.
"Do you know where the Moonshine Bar is?"
The girl pointed toward a magnificent tower that loomed at the end of the street, its twin spires piercing the sky.
"The Moonshine is only open at noon—in the basement. The building now is open to the Moonshine Express Company."
Siah nodded, confusion and dizziness still swirling in his head. Yet he smiled faintly as he began walking toward the tower, everyone's eyes still lingering on him.
---
NORTHERN HEMISPHERE — ANTILLA ISLANDS — PIRIAH ISLAND
An ocean-gray war tessel lay anchored beside a sunlit shoreline — its metallic hull gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. The colossal tessel stretched across the white sands like a sleeping giant. The turquoise water lapped softly at its armored flanks, contrasting its brutal design with the serenity of the sea. Beyond it, a city of white marble and glass curved along the coast — towers shaped like crescents and rings rising around a palm-lined promenade. The entire scene looked like a collision between two paradise and war. The tessel's shadow stretched over the beach, swallowing the sand in steel-blue gloom.
Queen Charlotte Acasta wore a thick, dark brown fur coat that enveloped her slender frame, reaching down to her knees — the texture dense and heavy. Her hair fell messily from beneath a soft navy ushanka, a winter military cap stitched with the seven-star insignia of the Shurur Empire at its front. Beneath the fur, hints of dark gloves clung to her fingers. Her eyes shut as she was guided by her maid while boarding the colossal tessel.
The maid's long, black hair framed a face both noble and distant — high cheekbones, eyes soft yet unyielding, lips tinted with a faint natural color. Her attire was a blend of elegance and grace: a long dress of embroidered velvet, dark navy in hue, trimmed with intricate patterns of gold thread and white lace at the cuffs and collar. Around her neck hung a pendant of faint blue crystal that shimmered under the light. She fixed Queen Charlotte's hair as she spoke in a serene tone.
"Your Majesty, we are still on the warm islands. Why did you insist on wearing such an outfit?"
Queen Charlotte smiled faintly. "Diana, I am a married woman. I don't need to show off. Or do you think the Almighty should share His woman?"
Diana tensed, replying nervously in a repentant tone. "Your Majesty, how could I suggest such a blasphemous thing?"
Queen Charlotte chuckled teasingly. "Don't fret, Diana. Our Lord doesn't take jokes to heart. But He has been gone for a long time… I do need to reveal some skin to feel young again. Sigh—if I weren't blind, perhaps I would have many male admirers like Shurur's other queens."
Diana smiled softly. "My Lady, a lot of men would die to receive your attention. But many wouldn't dare harbor any thoughts about you since you are the Almighty's favorite among all Shurur's queens — and it's impossible for you to show any skin with Shurur's weather forever cruel."
Queen Charlotte reached the deck. Thousands of soldiers saluted her in unison. They wore olive-green military coats, their shoulders crowned with black fur and gold trim. Beneath the coats, high-collared tunics were buttoned tightly. Heavy cloaks hung from their shoulders — forest green on the outside, lined with deep amber on the inside — flowing down to their boots. Their trousers were sharply pressed, tucked neatly into polished black boots that reflected the sunlight. Around their waists, leather belts with brass buckles bore the seven-star insignia of the Shurur Empire. On their heads sat peaked caps trimmed with gold thread. Their gloved hands rested calmly at their sides after their salute, their bearing straight and proud.
From the aisle between the thousands of soldiers in formation emerged a man with greased-back black hair and a pencil mustache. His lean, expressive face was marked by age and discipline. His uniform was tailored in deep obsidian fabric with sharp crimson piping tracing every edge and seam. Its double-breasted front was adorned with rows of medals and iron insignias, each gleaming like captured sparks. A dark leather strap crossed diagonally from shoulder to waist, securing a ceremonial sword at his side. The high collar, embroidered with gold thread, rose stiff against his neck — a symbol of his rank. Every brass button gleamed with precision.
With a stern salute, he greeted her. "Your Majesty, Chained General Duncan Keller at your service."
Queen Charlotte looked around at the massive number of soldiers still standing at attention. She spoke with a soft, low voice that seemed almost fleeting to the ear. "At ease."
In perfect unison, the soldiers eased from their rigid posture — as if her soft, fleeting command had reverberated throughout the colossal tessel itself.
Diana frowned slightly at the Chained General. "Her Majesty needs to rest. What preparations have you made?"
Chained General Duncan Keller called out in a booming voice, "Lieutenant General Ziah!"
A woman suddenly appeared beside him, her posture both elegant and commanding. A long military coat, dark as iron, draped over her shoulders, the fur-lined collar brushing against strands of silver-white hair cascading past her shoulders. Gold epaulets glinted faintly in the sunlight. Her gloved hand rested on the hilt of a sheathed saber hanging from a broad leather belt. Her gaze — calm yet piercing — fixed on the Queen as she saluted sharply.
Chained General Duncan Keller ordered, "Make sure Her Majesty lacks nothing."
Queen Charlotte Acasta spoke softly, her tone steady. "Chained General, I want you to stay behind and guard the Zircon mines from the rebelling natives whom Grelon is planning to fund."
Duncan Keller frowned. "Your Majesty, with Vex's treason we are restricted from the Karman Line. You will need my protection for the month long voyage that awaits you."
Queen Charlotte sighed deeply. "I know that the voyage will be six hundred and sixty-nine thousand, three hundred and twelve nautical miles — a hundred and twenty days across the Lost Sea of the Northern Hemisphere's Antilla Islands, entering the Wiseman Sea of the Eastern Hemisphere to reach the Shurur Empire without the Karman Line."
Diana and Lieutenant General Ziah exchanged worried glances.
The Chained General spoke again, hesitantly. "With Vex Bates — a Status Nine Stillness, the Shurur Empire's strongest Chained General — switching sides, and the persecution of Chained General Lai Taylor, a Status Eight Stillness, now leaves only three Chained Generals. With Chained General Asher Flowers and myself away from the Empire, we are currently the weakest among the Big Three Empires. Our enemies will soon realize that and invade — it's all the more reason for me not to stay behind."
Queen Charlotte's frown deepened. "I sent Chained General Asher Flowers to obstruct our Western Hemisphere enemies on the Checkered Sea so that we can deal solely with our Eastern Hemisphere foes. The most crucial point of this conflict is our most valuable resource — the most powerful Hue Source on the Dyson planet Zircon Crystals. We must protect the mines here on the Antilla Islands with all our might. Even if we cannot keep Antilla as our colony, we must salvage the Zircon Crystal mines. Our economy and strength rely on them."
Chained General Duncan Keller fell silent, worry etched into his face. "Your Majesty, crossing the Lost Sea directly is suicidal. Hue Beasts from legend roam those waters. With only one Status Seven Stillness — Lieutenant General Ziah — it's not enough to guarantee your safety. Even with the number of soldiers aboard the Abysm, all of them are Stillness bound to the physical plane, below Status Seven. Against an Ascendant Echelon Stillness, their fate is hopeless."
Queen Charlotte Acasta smiled faintly. "Do not worry. The Almighty will watch over us and even punish Vex Bates's treason. Do you think He would let sea monsters eat His wife?"
Chained General Duncan Keller fell silent again, unable to respond.
Lieutenant General Ziah suddenly shouted at a soldier dozing on the deck. "Private Stetto! How dare you show Her Majesty such unsightly conduct!"
Stetto — with long white-blond hair and deep blue eyes — stood, dusting himself off lazily. He groaned, "The Queen is blind. How is my conduct unsightly to her?"
The deck fell silent. The remark reached the Queen's ears, along with those of Chained General Duncan Keller, Diana, and Lieutenant General Ziah. Their faces contorted with anger — but before they could speak, Queen Charlotte giggled, clearly amused.
"It's rare to see such a free spirited child in our Empire," she said, her face bright beneath the afternoon sun.
With Queen Charlotte seemingly unaffected by the young soldier's rude remark, the anger of the Chained General and Lieutenant General was forced to be swallowed.
Queen Charlotte spoke joyfully. "Diana, guide Ziah with the preparations. As for you, Duncan — do not let Shurur down."
Chained General Duncan Keller nodded as his figure vanished from the spot.
Her expression turned solemn as she faced the vast sea. "Stetto, was it? You hurt my feelings with such an insensitive remark. Now, tell me a story to make me feel better."
Stetto, frozen and expecting punishment, blinked in disbelief. He scratched the back of his head, utterly confused by the Queen's unexpected command.