"So that's how it is, Mother… Her Majesty and Quinn have already received your warning. Actually, the Shadow Knights added a number of new patrols two weeks ago, and we've been closely monitoring the Five Great Houses for some time."
In Linen's room, the boy sat beneath the moonlight, fingers gently tapping against the desk.
From the crystal orb on the table, Novie's gentle, clear voice delivered her report smoothly.
Secrets upon secrets—enough to change countless lives, even the fate of the entire nation—filtered steadily into Linen's mind.
Ever since Novie had returned to the palace, Linen had rarely contacted her.
It wasn't that he was cold-hearted or deliberately distant. Rather, trump cards—like underwear—were best revealed at just the right moment.
He still regularly exchanged messages with Quinn, but Linen couldn't fully trust her either. Who knew what that drama-loving Silver Dragon might do if boredom set in?
Hence, he and Novie had agreed to only contact each other at critical junctures—just in case.
Tonight's call had been Novie's initiative.
The sheer amount of intel she provided exceeded Linen's expectations.
The old noble factions in the capital despised his mother, and his barbarian Empress mother would gladly slaughter those imperial parasites to the last.
The South family was a perfect example.
The depth of mutual distrust and scheming between the two sides was even worse than he'd imagined.
As for the Northern Duke's sudden arrival in the capital, Linen had initially assumed it was spontaneous. But according to Novie, though the palace's reception seemed hasty, everything had been managed smoothly—as if planned in advance. That raised Linen's eyebrows.
Too much was hidden behind such silent coordination.
"Anything else?"
"Sorry, Onii-chan, that's all I have for now. I'm useless—I could only get this much…"
Her voice from the crystal orb became somewhat gloomy.
After a brief hesitation, Novie changed the topic, softly asking:
"By the way, Onii-chan, about the festival, and your—"
But Linen shook his head with a gentle smile.
"It's fine, Novie. You've done more than enough. Actually, if you hadn't contacted me tonight, I would've reached out anyway."
"I'm sorry… I was too slow in reporting…"
The girl's voice filled again with apology.
"No, that's not what I meant."
Linen's smile softened further.
"I just wanted to remind you—say hello to the Royal Guard tomorrow. There might be something waiting for you."
"Is it new intel or instructions?"
Inside the crystal orb, Novie—wearing just a silk camisole, kneeling atop her bed—sat upright, tiny fists clenching atop her thighs.
"Of course not, nothing boring like that. Just a new dress. I commissioned it from a master at the Diamond Guild specifically for you."
Linen's smile widened.
"A present… for me?"
Novie was momentarily speechless, overwhelmed.
Across the dorm room, Teresia—wearing just a breezy sports top and shorts, still doing her one-handed handstand—caught Linen's intentions and couldn't help rolling her eyes.
But Linen ignored her, nodding warmly:
"Of course. Quinn said you're now one of the Shadow Knights' leaders, right? I never congratulated you properly."
"But honestly, I had no idea what to get a Shadow Knight leader… So, instead, I'm giving a gift from a brother to his little sister. You don't mind, do you?"
"Onii-chan!"
Novie's eyes welled with tears.
How could she possibly mind?
Even after resolving her previous feelings—no longer resenting Hysteria or Elena, because with such a perfect brother, why cling possessively?—Novie sometimes worried that if separated for too long, Onii-chan might drift away.
Yet today she finally realized—Linen had never forgotten her. She always had a place in his heart!
Choking back joyful tears, she said goodnight and ended the call, promising to work even harder tomorrow—to become an even better tool for Onii-chan.
She'd surprise him properly at the Dragonblood Festival!
Speaking of the festival, Novie suddenly remembered her other reason for tonight's call: to ask whom he planned to bring as his guest.
But in her excitement, she'd completely forgotten…
Yet, a small hope began blossoming within her heart.
He'd gifted her a new dress—did that mean he was planning to invite her?
Her thoughts ran wild.
As she imagined herself wearing the new dress, clinging tightly to her brother's strong arm, stepping gracefully across the grand ballroom, Novie's breathing quickened, and her cheeks flushed deep red.
Her soft arms lowered slowly, and—driven by a thrilling impulse—her hand quietly slipped beneath her skirt.
Onii-chan~!
...
Meanwhile, back in the dorm, seeing Linen end the call, Teresia finished her exercises and sat at the desk, coldly pronouncing judgment:
"Scum."
"Thank you for the compliment, Miss Teresia."
Linen wasn't bothered by the label, quietly sorting his thoughts.
The capital's Eight Great Houses—old nobility from the Empire's founding—always stuck together, privately feuding but quickly uniting whenever external threats appeared, even if the threat was an emperor.
That unity was why they had survived so long.
But that was all in the past.
After generations of infighting, that alleged solidarity was long gone. When faced with profit, old loyalties weren't worth a damn.
The Mistry and Callenica families had once been betrayed by the other six. Furious, they switched sides, becoming the Empress's loyal hounds.
As for the South family, once their insane plot was revealed, the others quickly cut ties, terrified of guilt by association.
Thus, in the "normal" timeline, it was five great houses on one side, the two Empress-loyalist houses plus Her Majesty on the other—a relatively balanced standoff.
But now, just as the dragon and wolves faced off, a wild lion had entered the fray.
Reinhardt, the mighty northern lion—no matter whose side he took, the balance would tip drastically.
Yet, in all known timelines, even if Reinhardt's loyalty was questionable, he never betrayed without reason.
In most scenarios, the old lion maintained his bottom line, guarding the north until the end. Only rarely did he rebel.
There must be some trigger. Linen tapped the desk thoughtfully, finally arriving at a chilling conclusion.
In every timeline where Reinhardt rebelled, Linen died late in the story.
Meaning—two conditions were necessary for his rebellion: chaos within the Empire, and Linen still alive…
Yet if Linen died early, sacrificed by the Empress as a bargaining chip, the old lion always remained loyal.
Am I… his damn anchor?!
Realizing this, Linen thought bitterly: Calling himself Farao's wild dad had been far too gentle. If he'd known, he would've claimed to be the kid's grandfather!
Wait a second—thinking it through, Reinhardt's rebellion wasn't because of my existence, but because of the original host's.
Linen felt he'd caught hold of a thread of truth, but couldn't unravel it further.
Well, whatever. If I want the heroines to hate me, I'll have to pull off something spectacular at the Dragonblood Festival anyway—so Reinhardt, you're the target!
But aside from Reinhardt… there was someone else.
If the Five Great Houses planned trouble at the festival, they'd definitely pull in every influential figure near the capital.
Besides Reinhardt, the only recent arrival with enough power and prestige to shift the balance… was that seductively mature figure Linen had been deliberately avoiding for a while.
...
Capital City, Morris Estate—one of the Eight Great Houses.
Tonight, their palatial residence blazed with lights. Teams of dancers, beauties, and handsome attendants moved gracefully among the guests; goblets filled with priceless wine were drained casually; a steady stream of delicacies arrived nonstop.
Even the word "extravagant" seemed inadequate for this banquet, yet to the head of House Morris, it still felt lacking compared to the guests of honor.
At the honored seat on the left, beyond the heads of the other four houses, sat none other than Duke Reinhardt of the North—who, despite clashing with Linen that morning, had still accepted House Morris's invitation.
And on the right: an equally striking figure.
A tight black dress accentuated every alluring curve, her purple hair spilled gracefully over bare shoulders, distinctive elven ears marking her identity clearly, and a languid, captivating aura—Elena's current artifactcraft teacher and renowned "Miracle-maker," Holly Orlando.
Yes, Holly was the second key figure the Five Great Houses had decided they must win over.
Unlike Reinhardt, who commanded the entire Northern Legion's loyalty, Holly—with her unusual personality and pride—held the absolute respect of every artificer in Zijinghua, yet few would truly rally under her banner.
In a sense, that was why the upper ranks of the Artificer's Guild were rumored to be full of traitors, yet Holly herself remained untouched.
But the Five Great Houses absolutely did not underestimate this exotic beauty.
After all, not every artificer could claim the title "Miracle-maker."
As a long-lived elf, Holly's collection and creations surpassed even Headmaster Sorgana's. If she wished, she could equip an entire army herself.
More importantly, as a foreigner in Zijinghua, her loyalty to the Empress likely wasn't strong.
After careful deliberation, the Five Great Houses placed Holly on equal footing with Reinhardt—both were top priorities.
Noticing the Morris patriarch's gaze, Holly returned his smile. An Arcana message softly reached his ear just in time:
"Apologies, Lord Morris—I don't hold my liquor well. I'll step out briefly."
The patriarch quickly nodded, and Holly quietly slipped away into the shadows.
...
"Good evening, Master Holly."
The moment she exited the banquet hall, Holly beckoned lightly, and a crystal orb floated from her storage ring, hovering at her side. Linen's casual voice came from within.
"Heh, good evening, Linen. I don't recall giving you my contact info, though?"
A spark of amusement flickered in Holly's amethyst eyes.
After an evening spent among scheming noblemen, Holly felt thoroughly drained. Seeing Linen's face in the orb felt like cleansing her eyes with cool spring water; even her breathing grew easier, and she couldn't resist teasing him a little.
Yet Linen's next words suddenly made her heart quicken, her cheeks flushing faintly pink.
Through the orb came Linen's slightly shy, apologetic voice:
"Sorry, Master Holly. Headmaster Sorgana happily shared your contact with me, and I just couldn't wait until tomorrow. I had to call right now, because… I really missed you."
"I wanted to apologize. Things ended so awkwardly last time—I was too impulsive."
He said… he missed me?
Holly's heart raced even faster.
If any other man had said something like that, she'd have been disgusted enough to wish for new ears. But from Linen's lips, she actually… didn't mind at all.
And seeing that charming mix of intelligence and shy awkwardness on Linen's face only made Holly want to tease him even more. She knew she was basically an older woman seducing an innocent boy, yet Holly found herself enjoying the feeling immensely.
Seeing Linen's troubled expression, Holly had the sudden urge to pull him into her arms and spoil him senseless.
Still maintaining appearances, Holly replied lightly:
"Heh. Your Highness Linen, that's quite the bold confession."
Half-covering her flushed cheeks with one hand, Holly leaned forward, her violet eyes glittering with seductive playfulness:
"So—tell me, what exactly do you miss about me?"
"I… I miss…"
Linen hesitated, then clenched his teeth and blurted out earnestly:
"I miss your six-chambered thick metal tubes."
Metal tubes? Six chambers? Do I even have something like that?
A question mark floated above Holly's head—until Linen continued:
"I miss your clockwork trigger, your mana-charging magazine… your liquid cooling system, and the sleek curves of your design."
"I think… maybe you should return those Maxim blueprints you left in the classroom to me, don't you?"
Holly: "…"
So all that "missing me" talk was about this?!
---
T/N: mmmm thick metal tubes
everyone is on vacation so no character notes this week
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