The underground chamber felt smaller than before.The air, heavy with ash and oil, trembled faintly as a soft, rhythmic tapping echoed from beyond the curtain at the far end. Every soldier in the room stiffened, posture straightening, eyes locked toward the sound.
Himmel, Texan, and Recon waited in silence.Then the curtain shifted.
From behind it emerged a woman — orcish, but unlike any the three had ever seen. Her skin was pale green streaked with silver veins that shimmered faintly beneath the torchlight. One arm was wrapped in bandages from shoulder to wrist, still damp with the dark stain of blood. Her gaze burned amber, sharp and cold, yet clear enough to see the exhaustion beneath it.
The Seventh Princess had arrived.
The soldiers bowed immediately. Even Himmel lowered his head out of respect. The Princess lifted her uninjured hand slightly, signaling for them to rise.
"Enough," she said. Her voice was smooth but brittle — like glass that had been reforged too many times. "If I wanted worship, I would have built a church, not an army."
Her golden eyes fixed on the three strangers standing at the back of the room. "You. Step forward."
Himmel led the way. Texan followed, casual but cautious, while Recon hung back a step, trying to look confident and mostly failing.
The Princess studied them in silence for what felt like an eternity. "You still decided to come down here even after what you saw up there," she said finally. "Few who walk into a graveyard expect to find life waiting below."
Himmel met her gaze. "Well, we came here to join your faction."
Her lips curved faintly — not quite a smile. "So I heard. From Marth."
At the name, the room shifted. Even the soldiers flinched. Himmel's jaw tightened.
"He's alive," the Princess said quietly. "Barely. His wounds will not heal, but his words reached me. He like you three and said you were stubborn."
Texan smirked. "At least that guys alive."
The Princess tilted her head. "And you? The loud one with the smirk. What do they call you?"
"Texan," he said simply.
"And you?" she asked, turning to Recon.
"Recon."
"Short for something?"
He shrugged. "Not really. It's just… me."
The Princess arched a brow but said nothing. Her gaze finally returned to Himmel. "And you?"
"Himmel."
Her expression shifted, the faintest ghost of interest crossing her face. "No title. No bloodline."
"Don't need one," he said.
That earned him a real smile this time. "Confident and foolish, what a great pair."
She began pacing slowly, her bandaged arm cradled against her chest. "I have questions. You will answer truthfully."
"Fine," Himmel said.
"Why come here?"
"Because the world above is dying," Himmel replied. "And if you fall, so does every chance we have at survival."
Her eyes flicked to Texan. "And you? Why follow him?"
Texan leaned back slightly. "Because I've been following him this long and I'm not dead yet."
A small laugh escaped the Princess before she could stop it. "Practical. I like that."
Her gaze landed on Recon last. "And you?"
Recon hesitated. "Honestly? Because I've got nowhere else to go. Everyone else either hates me or doesn't need me. He does."
For a moment, her expression softened. Then she stepped back, her tone turning formal. "So you want to join my faction. To fight, to kill, to die for a throne that may never be yours. You understand what that means?"
Himmel nodded. "We do."
"Good," she said. "Because if you're lying—"
Her hand lifted, palm glowing faintly with pale silver light. "—I will know."
The light swirled into sigils that hung in the air between them — ancient runes, sharp-edged and alive with quiet hums of energy.
"These," the Princess said, "are slave marks. They are not punishment. They are insurance."
Texan frowned. "Insurance against what?"
"Betrayal."
Himmel's expression didn't change, but the tension in his shoulders did. "If we're to serve you, shouldn't trust come first?"
"It will," she said. "When you've earned it."
She stepped closer to Himmel, then to Texan, then to Recon, placing a single glowing mark on each of their backs. The runes sank into their skin, burning briefly before fading from sight.
Recon hissed. "Ow—holy shit, that stings."
The Princess ignored him. "If you betray me, or act against this faction, the mark will burn. I will know where you are and what you've done."
Himmel rolled his shoulder. "How visible are they?"
"You can't see them unless you use identification magic," she replied. "They're hidden beneath your aura."
Recon blinked. "Okay, but like… what if someone just, you know, hits my back?"
The Princess frowned. "Excuse me?"
"You know—if someone smacks me. Does that activate it?"
"You need magic," she said slowly, as though speaking to a child.
Recon nodded. "Right, right, but like—what if they're higher level than me and they smack me?"
Before she could answer, Texan broke in, voice dripping with mockery. "Magwic, Rewcon. They gotta use magwic."
Even the Princess cracked a grin. A low laugh slipped past her lips, genuine and brief, cutting through the heaviness like sunlight.
"You three," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know if you'll save my faction or burn it down."
Texan smirked. "Why not both?"
That earned another laugh, short but real.
When her amusement faded, her expression sharpened again. "If you want to serve under me, then you will earn it. You will start with five objectives. Succeed in any one of them, and you'll be paid in full. Succeed in all of them, and you will have my trust."
She lifted a scroll from a nearby table and unrolled it.
"Condition One: Find dirt on the Second Princess—proof strong enough to remove her from the throne's contention."
Himmel's eyes narrowed. "Information gathering."
"Condition Two: Bring me ten level-fours and two level-fives willing to swear loyalty."
Texan whistled. "So, recruiting and conscripting."
"Condition Three: Obtain more political backing—families, merchants, soldiers, anything that grants influence."
"Condition Four," she continued, "secure a royal recommendation. One from any noble family still alive."
"And Condition Five…" She paused. Her gaze hardened. "Become my eyes. Find out how the Second Princess killed five factions without a trace. Be my spies."
A hush fell over the room.
"Those are your terms," she said. "Complete even one, and you will be rewarded. Fail all five, and you will be forgotten."
Himmel stepped forward. "And if we succeed?"
Her golden eyes gleamed. "Then you will never have to bow again."
She turned to a nearby chest, opening it with her bandaged hand. Inside lay three items — strange, but clearly powerful.
She gestured to Texan first. "I've learned to invest in my soldiers so I have some helpful tools. For you. Boots forged from temporal ore. They will let you step back five seconds in time. Use them wisely."
Texan's grin widened. "You serious? I can rewind?"
"For five seconds," she said. "you will go back to where you stood five seconds ago. no extra healing, no extra energy. Just going back five precious seconds."
She turned to Recon, lifting a small black gem that shimmered with dozens of colors just beneath its surface. "For you. The Gem of Aptitude. It can grant you a talent once in your lifetime—any you wish."
Recon's eyes lit up like a child's. "Anything?"
"Anything," she confirmed.
Finally, she faced Himmel. "And for you… this."
She held out a wooden object — a training dummy, carved with dozens of runic lines spiraling across its surface.
"A joke?" Recon muttered under his breath.
The Princess ignored him. "This dummy will never break. It will record every strike, every motion, every ounce of energy you release. Train with it, and it will show you your own soul."
Himmel took it silently. "Thank you."
"You'll need it," she said softly.
As they turned to leave, the Princess's voice followed them. "Remember your marks, your gifts, and your oaths. Succeed, and I will erase the sigils. Fail, and I will remember your names forever."
They bowed, and for the first time since entering, the soldiers around them lowered their weapons.
When they emerged from the hidden stairway, the air outside the mansion felt new again — thin, sharp, and full of noise.
The capital was waking.
They found a quiet alley behind the ruined estate to rest and talk. The fire crackled low, and for a good while, their laughter returned.
Texan stretched, flexing his new boots. "So… spies, killers, recruiters, and noble negotiators. Guess we're really moving up in the world."
Recon spun his gem between his fingers, the colors reflecting in his eyes. "We're not just mercs anymore."
Himmel nodded, quiet but thoughtful. "We're players now."
There was a long pause before Recon spoke again. "I think I'm gonna go solo for a bit."
Texan looked up sharply. "You serious?"
"Yeah," Recon said. "I wanna prove I can do something without holding your shadows. Every time something big happens, it's always Himmel leading, or you saving our asses. I wanna show I can pull my own weight."
Himmel's eyes softened. "Are you certain of this? We are in possibly the most dangerous capitol in the entire world. I want you to remember what happened last time we split apart."
Recon though deeply, but he kept pushing it. "I'm not a kid, I don't need your hand."
Texan leaned back with a grin. "Try not to die, alright? We already got one dramatic guy in the party."
Recon smirked faintly. "No promises."
He stood, slipping the gem into his pouch. The morning light painted his face half gold, half shadow. "See you both in the wild lands."
As he walked away, Texan stared after him, then sighed. "He's gonna screw something up."
"Probably," Himmel said.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the city breathe above the ruins.
Texan nudged Himmel's shoulder. "You think we'll pull this off?"
Himmel's answer came quiet, certain. "We have to."
The fire crackled once more, then faded, leaving only the soft sound of the wind carrying the scent of ash and blood through the streets.
Above them, the banners of seven factions fluttered faintly — the first whispers of a war that would drown the world.