Roselight Hollow, Red House District
Main Hall
Thea sighed as she walked past the line of men — faces bare, nerves plain as daylight.
Brush… brush…
The faint rhythm of brooms sweeping across polished marble lingered in the air, mingling with a perfume that refused to fade.
"Groza really went overboard this time — sending me this many from the Frostcrystal auction? We're running out of space already."
Her gaze slid toward the window. "And Lesomagiya's auction isn't even finished yet… I hope he restrains himself this time."
"Do… does that mean we ca-can't stay here?" one asked, voice trembling. His eyes lowered, lips quivering.
"When did I say that?" Thea's tone softened, curiosity curling through her words. "You're new here — young men who've yet to learn how to survive. This isn't a prison, nor a place where you'll be forced."
The man looked up, hope flickering in his eyes.
"Live and earn here until you find what you want in life," Thea continued, a faint smile touching her lips. "And if what you want isn't out there, you're welcome to work under me."
With that, she gestured for the servants to lead the newcomers away, then turned toward the stairs.
<
A voice echoed through her mind — calm, resonant, carrying a warmth that brushed against her thoughts.
Thea stopped mid-step, smiling faintly.
Fourth Floor
Seraphyx sat upon the bed, his legs draped in a soft rose-coloured blanket. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, scattering across his face in gentle gold.
"I am here as you asked, Mother. Is there something you need?" Thea asked as she stepped inside, bowing lightly.
"I want you to clear some doubts I have regarding Lady Iris," Seraphyx said, turning his gaze toward her. His voice was tranquil — yet carried an undercurrent of weight.
"Duke Glykeria's daughter?" Thea asked, her tone sharpening slightly.
"Yes," he replied, his eyes drifting back toward the light. "She may be hiding something beyond her usual life. Look into it for me."
"As you wish, Mother." Thea bowed once more and turned toward the door, her footsteps light and composed as she left the room.
Eastern Gate of Arian Core
A crowd of men straddled their horses beneath the towering eastern gate — a heavy lattice of iron that gleamed dull silver beneath the morning sun. Armor clinked, reins creaked, and the low snorts of restless mounts filled the air.
"Everyone is here?" Silus asked, turning slightly to the knight beside him.
"Yes, all one hundred and twenty knights," Mellus replied, brushing a strand of greenish-blond hair from his eyes. "Except poor Varyn — he ran off to relieve himself again. Said the nerves were killing him."
A few nearby knights snickered.
"Tell him to make it quick," Silus said dryly. "If he's not back in two minutes, he's running behind us on foot."
Laughter rippled through the formation, light but fleeting. The tension eased — only a little.
Beyond the gate, a few girls from the nearby quarter lingered by the stone railings, whispering among themselves. Their dresses fluttered faintly in the wind as they watched the armoured riders prepare to leave. One of them sighed, her voice carrying softly over the clatter of hooves.
"They always ride out like heroes," she murmured. "And half never come back."
Mellus glanced over his shoulder — just briefly — before adjusting his gloves. "They're watching again."
"They always do," Silus said. "Hope fades slower than we think."
A shout rose from the back — "Varyn's back!"
"Then let's move," Silus commanded, raising his hand.
The gate chains rattled as it began to lift, sunlight spilling through the widening gap.
Thak, thak.
Hooves struck the cobblestones in unison as the knights rode out behind Grandmaster Silus — a river of silver and steel flowing toward the wild green horizon.
"It'll be half a day's journey to Lesomagiya Forest. If we weren't bringing so many, we'd make better time."
"I know," Silus muttered. "But it won't matter if we can't subdue the auction house and rescue every slave. My sources confirmed the number of guards and captives there."
"Strange, isn't it? Matron Thea could charge gold for information like that."
"She prefers supplies — food, fabric, medicine," Silus replied. "Her reasons are her own."
Then, lowering his voice, he added, "And don't say her name out loud, Mellus. The fewer who know our source, the better."
Half a day later — Near the outskirts of Lesomagiya Forest
Hah… ha… huff… "Finally… outside…"
Groza's breath trembled as he staggered from the tree line, air scraping his lungs. Behind him, Julie's soft voice broke through the haze…
"You don't have to push yourself so hard, mister," Julie frowned from his back, her hands gripping his shoulders. "The Pale Wyrm's dead now."
"But the elemental energy inside… it's still too thick for you," Groza said between ragged breaths. "We need to find… a cleaner place… to rest."
"We're already out of the forest. Please, rest for a moment," Julie pleaded, her palm brushing gently across his back.
"Just a bit more… to make sure you're safe…" His voice broke with every breath.
Then his eyes caught something beyond the treeline — the faint shimmer of sunlight on steel.
"Wait—what's that?"
The thunder of hooves rolled across the plains.
Thak thak… thak thak… thak thak…
The rhythmic thunder of hooves echoed over the plains. A line of silver-armoured riders advanced in tight formation, sunlight flashing on their blades.
Groza exhaled, half-relieved. "Arian Knights… finally." His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Julie quickly slid off his back, stepping in front of him defensively as the riders approached. "Stay back!"
Silus was the first to dismount, his boots crunching against the earth. "Did you two escape from the slave auction?"
"What if we did?" Julie snapped. "Mr. Groza and I would've died like the others if we hadn't! Don't try to hurt us."
"Ha… hah…" Groza gasped weakly behind her.
Silus's eyes widened. "Wait—Groza? From Roselight Brothel?" He gestured to a nearby knight. "Bring water, now!"
"The dome… it's gone…" Groza muttered, still struggling to breathe.
"Easy, easy," Silus said, taking the waterskin from his knight. He opened it, then offered it to Julie with a faint smile. "Here. It's clean."
Julie eyed him suspiciously, sniffing the water before tasting it. "...It's fine."
"I told you," Silus chuckled softly.
"Here, Mr. Groza." She helped him sit upright and drink.
Gulp. Gulp.
"Ahh… that's better," Groza said, smiling faintly. "Julie, have some too."
"Now then, Groza," Silus straightened. "What happened at the Auction House?"
"The Pale Wyrm attacked the Dome," Groza said flatly, his tone void of hesitation.
Silus's expression hardened. "That's impossible. I was there when His Majesty slew the Pale Wyrm twenty years ago." He studied Groza's eyes. "Are you sure you weren't hallucinating?"
"I don't know for sure…" Groza replied slowly. "But this Pale Wyrm looked the same as that one — only different. Its severed body's still inside the forest, half a day's walk east."
He paused, his breath faltering. "A red-haired man killed it — effortlessly. Before he vanished, he said it was born because of him…"
"It's already dead?" Silus asked, voice low.
Groza nodded once, then collapsed backward, eyes slipping shut. "Yeah… dead."
Julie sighed, lifting his head and resting it gently on her lap. "Looks like Mr. Groza fell asleep."
Silus's expression darkened as he rose. "Excellent work making it out alive. Leave the rest to me."
Mellus frowned as he dismounted. "You actually believe him, Grandmaster? There's no way a Pale Wyrm still exists."
"We'll know soon enough," Silus replied, gaze fixed toward the treeline. "Once we see what's left of the forest — and that auction house."
Aethercastle, Arian Core
Far from the dirt and ruin of Lesomagiya, a silver carriage trimmed with gold and Frost Dragon carvings rolled through Aethercastle's radiant gates.
Inside, Lady Iris sat poised in a long gown of deep violet, golden crystal jewellery glittering at her throat. Her hands rested gracefully on her lap as she sighed.
"If you hadn't made us dance all day in the Main Market, you'd have more time to prepare for this visit."
"But it was fun, wasn't it?" Iris teased, glancing at her with mock offense. "You turn into such a killjoy without wine."
Flora groaned softly. "Let's hope this visit gives us an excuse to cancel your wedding."
Iris smirked faintly, her reflection glimmering against the window. "Let's hope so."
Crown Prince's Chambers
"Your Grace, Lady Iris is here to meet you."
An elderly maid bowed lightly after closing the tall oak doors behind her.
"She's already here, huh? I would've had more time to prepare if Grandma hadn't kept me for lunch."
Orion sighed, combing through his long silver hair. His reflection frowned back at him in the mirror.
"Her roasted Highfin was still bland — just like last time," he muttered, setting the comb aside.
"May I assume that means you snuck out of Aethercastle again?"
The maid straightened, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear and adjusting the red-framed glasses that sat neatly on her nose. "Judging by the timing, I'd say you left last night for Roselight Hollow. I'll have to inform the Crown about this."
"Don't be like that, Silvia," Orion said, his brows creasing as he lightly caught her sleeve. "You know Father would scold me for weeks if he found out I slipped out so close to the coronation."
"His concerns aren't without reason," Silvia replied, her tone calm but firm. "If anyone had recognized you, it could've turned into tomorrow's headline—or worse."
"Please…" Orion leaned a little closer, voice softening. "Just forget it, for me."
Silvia exhaled, her composure faltering just slightly. "As you wish, Your Royal Grace."
A faint warmth touched her cheeks as she turned away.
He still makes that same face… just like when he was five, she thought with a quiet, nostalgic smile.
Orion straightened again, fingers running down the intricate embroidery on his tunic. "That should do."
"I'll take my leave now," Silvia said, regaining her formal tone. "Lady Iris will arrive any moment."
"Thanks, Silvia."
She bowed gracefully and slipped out, closing the door with a soft click—leaving Orion alone with the silence of his chamber and the faint echo of his heartbeat.