That morning at the king's palace?
Total disaster.
And not the fun kind of disaster, like when a training dummy explodes or someone accidentally launches a chicken across the courtyard with a catapult.
No. This was the stressful, everybody-yelling kind of disaster.
See, the Annual United Royals Feast between the Samian towns was happening the next day. Which meant the entire palace had officially entered panic mode.
And the king and queen?
Yeah. They weren't even there.
They had already left earlier that morning to visit Amazon Village.
Which meant one man was running the palace.
Stephane.
The king's right-hand man.
And when the king wasn't around?
Stephane basically transformed into the human version of a war trumpet.
He had been yelling since sunrise.
Knights.
Servants.
Entertainers.
Chefs.
Pretty much every living person inside the palace walls.
Except the king's children.
Those three were supposed to stay locked safely in their rooms.
At least… that was the plan.
Stephane stood in the kitchen, glaring at a group of terrified cooks like they had personally offended the gods of baking.
"I said softer!" he barked. "These pastries are for the king, not for hammering nails!"
Stephane had this weird combination of looks. His build was like a knight, broad shoulders, strong posture, the kind of guy who could probably break a door open with one kick.
But his face?
The kind that made people trust him immediately.
The kind that probably made half the ladies in town feel very comfortable talking to him.
Which made it extra terrifying when he got angry.
Two nurses suddenly ran into the kitchen.
Stephane turned slowly toward them.
"And why," he said calmly, "are you not at your posts?"
You could practically hear him preparing to yell again.
One nurse bent over, trying to catch her breath.
"We're not sneaking into the kitchen, you have to believe—"
Stephane blinked.
That was not the answer he expected.
Then the second nurse spoke between breaths.
"The girls…"
Stephane frowned.
Wait.
Then his eyes widened.
"The girls—"
"They got out somehow!" the nurse blurted.
The first nurse completely panicked.
"I was the only one watching them but I only looked away for a minute I swear I didn't—"
Stephane facepalmed.
Hard.
In the palace, even the smallest movement from him could scare people.
And that facepalm?
Yeah. That one had the emotional weight of a thunderstorm.
"You four," Stephane sighed, "somehow always manage to let those girls out of the castle."
He slowly lowered his hand and looked at them.
Not angry.
Not yelling.
Just calm.
Like a tiger politely giving injured gazelles a chance to run.
"…Leave."
And run they did.
Fast.
Meanwhile, the three runaway princesses were already deep into town.
Princess Ava, the oldest at twenty-one, walked in front like she owned the entire street, which, technically, she kind of did.
Next to her was Lana, nineteen, who looked about as interested in the world around her as someone watching paint dry.
And bringing up the rear was fourteen-year-old Tama.
Who had absolutely zero interest in walking calmly.
At that exact moment, Kiseki was heading toward the palace.
He carried a heavy crate packed with hinge pins, spearheads, rivets, and other weapon parts from Ganja Town's famous smithery.
Basically a box full of sharp metal things.
As the princesses walked past him, Ava lifted her hand fan and hid the annoyed look on her face.
Lana didn't even acknowledge him.
But Tama?
Tama lit up like someone had just handed her a birthday cake.
"Weapon boy!"
She ran straight toward Kiseki.
For the record, this excitement was completely one-sided.
Tama believed Kiseki was her best friend.
Mostly because he was the only person her age she ever talked to.
And also because she forced most of those conversations.
Kiseki, meanwhile, wasn't exactly what you'd call social.
He just kept walking with his usual neutral expression.
"Ki-se-ki!" she said happily.
"Yeah, yeah. Kiseki," she repeated proudly, following him.
"Are you coming to our palace?"
Kiseki pretended not to hear.
Tama didn't care.
"Are you staying over after you drop the box?"
Then she gasped dramatically.
"Are you coming to see me?!"
"Tama!"
Ava's voice cut through the street like a command.
"Come."
She gave Kiseki a quick look filled with royal superiority.
"We have better things to do."
Tama sighed and turned back toward her sisters.
Then she waved enthusiastically.
"Okay, bye weapon boy!"
"It's Kis—"
Kiseki's hands slipped.
Just slightly.
But when you're carrying a heavy crate full of metal parts, slightly is enough to ruin your entire day.
He tightened his grip and kept walking, teeth clenched.
The crate kept sliding.
His hands kept slipping.
And then,
Crash.
The crate hit the ground.
Kiseki sighed.
Then he noticed something strange.
He looked up.
And suddenly his mood changed.
Because he had stopped right in front of Mr. Jerome's store.
His day instantly got better.
Come on.
This had to be fate.
Without hesitation, Kiseki stepped inside the shop, leaving the crate outside.
Nobody would dare touch it anyway.
The box carried the king's symbol.
And in times like these?
Being caught holding royal weapons when you weren't a weaponsmith was a great way to get labeled a traitor.
Which was basically the fastest way to ruin your life.
The three girls were sneaking toward the town gate like they weren't about to get in trouble.
Which, obviously, meant they were definitely about to get in trouble.
A red carriage rolled past them, slow, dramatic, the kind of entrance that screams "important people inside, probably dangerous, definitely annoying."
Lana glanced at it like she was watching paint dry.
"Are you sure we should be leaving? Those could be Daddy's visitors."
You know that tone people use when they're pretending not to care but actually care a lot? Yeah. That.
Ava didn't even look. Not once.
"Stephane will deal with it. He always does. What's the worst that can happen?"
Quick note, whenever someone says that, the universe immediately starts taking it as a challenge.
"Now come on," Ava added. "Let's leave before the others go without us."
And just like that, boom. Poor decision number one.
Meanwhile, because chaos loves multitasking, there was Kiseki in a bookstore.
Now, I've seen monsters, Warlords, and gods with anger issues, but nothing, and I mean nothing, is scarier than a determined kid looking for a specific book.
The shop owner, Mr. Jerome, had this evil genius habit of rearranging everything every week.
"Helps sales," he'd probably say.
Yeah. Also helps create emotional breakdowns.
Kiseki wasn't browsing. He was on a mission.
"Major Warlord, Volume 8…" he muttered, scanning shelves like a detective tracking a criminal.
After what felt like hours,
"Aha!"
He rushed toward a stand.
Volume 6.
…Close enough to hurt.
Now here's where it gets painful. Each chapter cost 15 points. And the currency here? Ryoko, rk. Kiseki's weekly allowance was 11.
Which should've been a problem.
Except this kid? He'd been saving like his life depended on it.
He dumped his coin sack right there on the floor.
Clink. Clink. Clatter.
Everyone in the store froze.
Other customers? Horrified.
Mr. Jerome? Watching like it was free entertainment.
"Three twos… four ones… and a five…" Kiseki counted, completely ignoring the judgmental stares.
He looked up at the book.
I swear, if books could glow, this one was practically ascending into heaven.
"So close…"
He reached out,
"Move."
A hand shot in.
A young woman grabbed the exact chapter.
Her four-year-old lit up like it was his birthday.
Kiseki just stood there.
"…Huuuh?"
Yeah. That sound? Universal language of heartbreak.
Now, back at the palace, because remember that "what's the worst that can happen" thing?
Yeah. This.
The red carriage was parked outside.
Inside? Absolute chaos.
Guards were running in circles, literally, hauling stuff from the treasury like ants who forgot where the nest was.
And right in the middle of it all was Stephane, trying very hard not to panic.
Which is difficult when a guy with a knife is casually resting it under your neck.
"Man," said Kushino, grinning like this was a fun weekend activity, "these guys don't go any faster, do they?"
Stephane laughed nervously. You know, the kind of laugh that says please don't kill me, I have responsibilities.
"Th-they're moving! See? Very fast!"
"Hmm," Kushino said. "I guess I'll just have to get rid of you and do it myself."
Stephane's soul basically left his body.
Across the room, leaning like he had all the time in the world, was Crimson.
No expression. No panic. Just… calm.
The scary kind of calm.
"Our task does not include death," Crimson said.
Kushino sighed. "I know."
Stephane almost cried in relief.
"But that doesn't mean I won't hurt him."
Relief revoked.
"Th-They'll move faster, I promise!" Stephane blurted.
Honestly? At this point, I'd promise anything too.
Upstairs, things somehow got worse.
There was a six-year-old named Mendo.
And if you think ancient monsters are hard to deal with, try explaining danger to a kid who's bored.
"Why can't I go outside?" he asked.
The nurse, who definitely didn't sign up for this. smiled nervously.
"Because… um… it's not safe."
"Why?"
"Because… reasons."
"Which reasons?"
Yeah. She was losing that battle.
She hadn't even checked outside, but she knew something was wrong. No constant announcements from Stephane. A mysterious carriage. Weird silence.
That's never good.
Mendo narrowed his eyes.
Even at six, he knew he wasn't getting the truth.
Which, obviously, meant he needed to find it himself.
He started running around the room, fast.
The nurse tried to grab him.
Missed.
He dodged again, honestly, pretty impressive footwork, knocking over furniture like he was in some kind of obstacle course.
Then, boom.
Opening.
He slipped right past her, ducked under her arms, and bolted for the door.
It flew open.
He ran out.
Behind him, the nurse froze, hand over her mouth.
Because if her instincts were right…
This wasn't just a kid running into trouble.
This was a kid running straight into a disaster that hadn't even finished unfolding yet.
And somewhere downstairs,
Yeah.
Things were about to get a whole lot worse.
Kiseki was approaching the palace holding the weapons crate, from only a few metres away he could tell something wasn't right in the palace. He saw the royal guards and soldiers loading chests into a red carriage which was weird on its own, but no soldiers stood at any duty posts, Kiseki circled round the palace to get to the reserved entrance which was for deliveries and trusted subjects. As he got to the entrance those two nurses from earlier who were with Stephane before ran out the reserved entrance. Neither of them stopped by Kiseki, they both ran past him and kept running as faraway as they needed to not be visible from the palace. "Well that's new", Kiseki squinted his eyes in confusion and concern. He shrugged it off and turned back to the entrance, "Man. Stephane must be on extra boss mode today", he walked into the palace with the heavy crate.
Kiseki made his way to the weaponry and set the crate down. He looked around to see all the racks were empty and the only tools were all sorts of old broken blades on the floor.
Kiseki didn't realise at this point that the palace was defenseless but he could hear a slight echo of Stephanes voice. Stepping out of the weaponry, walking down the halls with his back against the wall he moved towards the sound. Turning a corner, there they were, a couple of terrorist swordsmen and a scared Stephane. Kiseki quickly hid behind a couple of large wooden boxes
Kiseki had about three seconds to figure out a plan before everything went completely, spectacularly wrong.
No pressure.
So there he was, crouched in the worst hiding spot in history, watching a bunch of guards march back and forth like they were in some kind of extremely boring parade, except, you know, with actual danger and terrorists involved. They moved in a straight line from the palace to the carriage and back, carrying treasure out like it was just another Tuesday.
Meanwhile, Kiseki had a crate of weapons hidden behind him. Heavy. Loud. Completely useless… unless he could somehow get it to the guards without getting caught and immediately turned into a cautionary tale.
"Okay," he muttered under his breath, "easy. Just… magically teleport the crate into their hands."
Yeah. Great plan. Zero flaws. Totally doable.
And then, because the universe has a sick sense of humor, Mendo showed up.
Running.
Full speed.
Like his life depended on it.
Behind him? No one.
Absolutely no one.
Which made it even worse.
"Mendo!" Kiseki hissed, waving his arms like a man trying to land a plane. "Stop! STOP!"
Did Mendo stop?
Of course not.
He kept sprinting straight ahead like he was being chased by invisible demons, eyes wide, completely oblivious to the fact that he was about to run straight past two armed terrorists.
Kiseki watched this unfold in slow motion.
This is it, he thought. This is how we die. Not in battle. Not heroically. But because Mendo doesn't know how to stop running.
Just as Mendo was about to breeze past them,
*Grab.*
Kushino caught him by the collar like he was picking up a stray cat.
"Well, what do we have here?" Kushino said, raising an eyebrow.
Mendo blinked.
"…I feel like I missed something important," he said.
Kiseki didn't stick around to hear the rest.
Because suddenly, finally, he had an opening.
He slipped back into the weapons room, heart pounding like a war drum. The crate sat exactly where he'd left it, like it had been waiting for him to come back and make better life decisions.
"If this doesn't work," Kiseki muttered, "I'm officially out of ideas."
He grabbed the crate.
Immediately regretted it.
"Why," he groaned, lifting it with effort, "is it always the crate?"
Step by step, he dragged it through the secret passage, every movement feeling ten times louder than it should've been. He half-expected someone to burst in and yell, *Hey! Stop doing that suspiciously helpful thing!*
But no one came.
So he kept going.
Out the hidden exit.
Around the palace.
Toward the guards.
And then, right at the perfect moment,
He dropped the crate.
*BANG.*
Loud. Echoing. Impossible to ignore.
Every guard turned.
Perfect.
Kiseki didn't wait. He backed off, trying to look like he definitely hadn't just done that.
The guards moved fast. One by one, without breaking formation, they grabbed weapons from the crate. Blades gleamed in their hands as they turned and headed back into the palace.
Now it wasn't just a bunch of guys carrying treasure.
Now it was a counterattack.
Kiseki watched as the last of them disappeared inside.
Then,
Chaos.
War cries erupted.
Steel clashed against steel.
The sound of a full-blown fight exploded through the palace walls.
Kiseki let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"Okay," he said quietly. "That… actually worked."
For about five seconds, he felt like a genius.
Then he heard footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Coming from inside.
Kiseki's confidence vanished instantly.
"Or not," he whispered.
He ducked into hiding just as the palace doors opened.
Kushino stepped out.
And he wasn't alone.
Mendo dangled from his grip, still held by the collar like some kind of very confused handbag.
Mendo looked around, squinting like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
"…Are we winning?" he asked.
Kiseki almost facepalmed from his hiding spot.
Kushino didn't answer. He just walked to the red carriage, opened the door, and tossed Mendo inside before stepping in himself.
The door shut.
The carriage started moving.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
And Kiseki could only watch.
Frozen.
Helpless.
As it rolled away.
His chest tightened.
Not fear exactly.
Not yet.
But something close.
Because now the fight was inside the palace,
And Mendo was being taken somewhere unknown,
And Kiseki had no idea what he was supposed to do next.
For the first time since this whole mess started…
He didn't have a plan.