Satisfied with his allocation to speed and mental acuity, Jade rose as the final chime sounded.
In the Gateway Chamber, Zero was already waiting. Together, they stepped into the portal.
The transition was a soft, disorienting dissolve. The sterile white light of the Sanctuary was replaced by the warm, golden glow of a thousand enchanted crystals. They stood at the edge of a ballroom of impossible opulence.
Nobles and ladies in silks and jewels laughed and gossiped. It was a majestic royal ball.
Jade's first instinct was to summon his scythe. Nothing. He tried to activate Observer's Eye. Dormant. A glance at Zero confirmed the same; his partner's hand twitched toward a Gesshilla that was not there.
They were disarmed.
Their attire had changed. Jade was clad in a deep obsidian-black doublet, embroidered with silver thread that mimicked his Nether-Flame. His long, white hair flowed like silk over his shoulders, his handsome, glacial features set in cold calculation. He looked like a brooding prince from a dark fairy tale.
Zero wore contrasting shades of silver and storm-gray, his blonde hair impeccably styled, his stoic features holding a noble, ethereal air. They were disguised as royalty.
A hush fell. All eyes turned to the grand staircase.
She descended.
Every step was a study in grace, a slow, deliberate punctuation in the room's murmur. She was ethereally, devastatingly beautiful. Her hair was the color of spun cotton candy and cherry blossoms, a long, flowing cascade of silken pink that fell to the small of her back, catching the light with every movement. Her face was a perfect heart shape, with high cheekbones dusted with a subtle shimmer. Her eyes, large and luminous, were the shade of rare amethysts, framed by long, dark lashes. Her lips were full, painted a soft, glossy rose, and currently curved in a small, polite smile.
She wore a gown of layered lavender and silver silk that seemed to float around her slender form, the bodice embroidered with tiny, glittering crystals that mimicked a starry night sky. The neckline was tastefully daring, hinting at the gentle swell of her breasts before the fabric swept down into a flowing skirt that whispered against the stairs. She moved with an innate, captivating elegance that made the very air seem to still around her.
She glided through the parted crowd, a vision of pure, untouchable royalty, and came to stand demurely beside a man seated on a raised, ornate throne of gold and ivory. The King. His presence was a physical weight, a man in his prime with a stern, weathered face, a closely trimmed beard of silver and black, and eyes that held the terrifying, absolute authority of one accustomed to unthinking obedience.
The moment the Princess took her place, a System prompt, elegant and script-like, burned before Jade and Zero's eyes:
Primary Objective: Dance with the Princess.
Warning: A single misstep is a fatal error. All offensive and defensive skills are temporarily sealed.
Jade and Zero stared at the message, then at each other. The sheer, absurd lethality of the objective, wrapped in such finery, was staggering.
On their faces, a rare, unified expression of pure, unadulterated disbelief formed.
"...What the hell?" they muttered in near-perfect unison.
And from the shadowed periphery of the ballroom, nestled between two marble pillars, a pair of ancient, hungry eyes the color of dried blood watched the two new, beautifully dressed players. A tall, voluptuous woman with raven hair and crimson lips smiled, her gaze lingering on Jade with a possessive intensity that promised both pleasure and pain. The predator was already among them, and the hunt had begun in silk and crystal.
Jade's mind, forced to work without his usual analytical skills, raced over the System's words. His eyes, sharp with deduction, narrowed.
"The objective says 'Dance with the Princess.' It does not specify who must do it," he stated, the logic cold and clear. "Only one of us needs to complete this."
A slow, utterly psychotic smile spread across Jade's face, a stark contrast to his princely attire. He turned his head, the smile widening as he looked directly at Zero.
Zero saw the look. His eyes widened a fraction in dawning horror. "No," he said, his voice flat and absolute. "There is absolutely no way I am doing that."
"But Zero," Jade countered, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "You were just regaling me with your vast... experience. The playboy of the Kageyama clan. The one who knew which flowers to send. Was it all just empty boasting?"
He took a step closer, his expression one of pure, unadulterated mischief. He reached out and patted Zero's shoulder twice, a gesture that was both condescending and full of grim expectation.
"Don't disappoint me," Jade said, the words a soft, laughing command.
Zero stared at him, a silent war raging behind his silver-green eyes. The weight of his own bravado had become an anchor. With a sound of pure, exasperated defeat that was entirely new for him, he smoothed down his silver jacket, squared his shoulders, and began to walk.
He cut through the opulent crowd like a blade. Whispers followed him. "What family is he from?" "Who is that?" "Look at his bearing..." The noblemen who had been rejected shot him jealous glares, which he ignored with practiced, aristocratic disdain.
He arrived before the dais where the pink-haired Princess stood beside her father, the King. He executed a flawless, respectful bow, his blonde hair catching the light.
"Your Highness," Zero began, his voice a low, magnetic baritone, smooth as aged whiskey and just as intoxicating. It was the voice of the heir to the Kageyama, the playboy who had charmed a dozen courts. "The music hangs in the air, longing for a partner worthy of its melody. The flowers seem to bloom only in the direction of your grace. I would be honored if you would allow this humble servant to guide you through its notes, so that for a moment, the very stars might pause to envy our dance."
It was a perfect, beautiful, utterly corny line, delivered with such sincere, stoic charm it should have worked.
The Princess looked at him, her amethyst eyes blinking once. A small, polite, utterly disinterested smile touched her lips.
"I appreciate the offer, my lord," she said, her voice like tinkling bells, "but I must decline."
The silence that followed was deafening. The entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath.
Zero froze. For the first time since his clan's massacre, a completely new emotion flashed across his face: pure, unadulterated, ego-shattered pissed-off-ness. His cheek twitched.
From across the room, a sound erupted.
It started as a low chuckle, then grew into a full-bodied, shoulder-shaking laugh. "HAHAHAHAHAHA," Jade was bent over, one hand on his stomach, laughing so hard he was almost crying. It was a raw, unfiltered sound of pure schadenfreude, echoing in the stunned quiet of the ballroom. Tears of mirth gathered in the corners of his eyes.
Zero turned, his face a magnificent palette of embarrassment and fury. The great Empty Sword Saint, the master of the void, the former playboy... had been publicly, decisively, and politely shot down.
The majestic dance had begun with the most humiliating step imaginable.
Zero stalked back through the crowd, the whispers now feeling like needles. He arrived before a still-chuckling Jade, his composure utterly shattered.
"You think it's so easy?!" Zero hissed, his voice a low, uncharacteristic snarl. The great void within him felt like it was filled with boiling water. "Why don't you go and try your 'logical' charm on her, you block of ice!"
Jade's laughter slowly subsided. He wiped a tear from his eye, his psychotic grin returning. "Fine. Watch closely. This is how it's done."
He didn't smooth his jacket or practice a bow. He simply walked toward the dais with a casual, almost bored nonchalance, his hands in his pockets, his long white hair flowing with each step. He ignored the protocol, the courtly etiquette, everything. He stopped before the Princess, not with a bow, but with a slight, arrogant tilt of his head.
"Your Highness," Jade began, his voice flat and raw, devoid of any of Zero's practiced charm. "This entire farce is a waste of time. You're the objective. I'm the participant. Let's get this over with. One dance. Then we can both move on to more important things."
It was brutally honest, utterly rude, and delivered with the chilling confidence of a king addressing a servant.
The Princess looked at him, her amethyst eyes widening slightly at his audacity. A faint, intrigued smile might have been expected. Instead, the same polite, disinterested mask returned.
"I appreciate your… directness, my lord," she said, her voice still like bells, but now with a hint of frost. "But I must decline."
The silence returned, somehow even heavier than before.
Jade stood there, his nonchalant expression frozen solid. The raw data point of 'REJECTION' slammed into his Obsidian Core with the force of a physical blow.
And from across the room, a sound erupted.
It started as a sharp, disbelieving exhale. Then it grew. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH", It was a low, rumbling chuckle that built into a genuine, deep, and unrestrained laugh. Zero was laughing. His head was thrown back, his shoulders shaking, a hand pressed to his stomach. It was the first real, full laugh that had escaped him since the Crimson Night, since the ashes of his family had grown cold. It was the sound of a decade of grief and silence being shattered by the sheer, cosmic irony of the moment.
Tears of a different kind, tears of pure, unadulterated release, streamed down his face as he watched the ever-calm, ever-logical Jade get shot down even harder than he had been.
The two deadliest ascendants in the Sanctuary stood on either side of the ballroom, one frozen in humiliated shock, the other weeping with laughter, both utterly defeated by a princess with pink hair.
The Masquerade had become a comedy of errors, and the real test had only just begun.