The sun of Alius had begun its slow descent toward the horizon, tinting the foliage of Exilia with a molten gold that seemed almost magical if it weren't for Hayjin's cold scientific awareness, which promptly classified it as simple atmospheric light refraction. Rhaegalur, motionless as a basalt monument, observed the two youths with a gaze that mixed ancient severity with a strange, almost imperceptible form of fatherly pride.
"Well," the giant began, his deep voice seeming to vibrate the ground beneath Hayjin's feet. "If the pact is sealed and everything has been accepted, there is no point in wasting more time. Zhilian is right on one point: the bureaucracy of the Mages' Association is as slow as a glacier and as relentless as an avalanche. If we want Hayjin to be officially registered as your Support, we must reach Opes before the Palace gates close for the evening hearings."
Zhilian nodded vigorously, adjusting the heavy folds of her cloak. "Rhaegalur is right. If we arrive late, I would have to give too many explanations to the night guards, and I'd prefer to avoid being interrogated sooner than necessary."
Rhaegalur leaned down, offering his broad shoulders once more. "Climb on. I will take you through the high paths. It is the fastest route, though the least comfortable for those who suffer from vertigo."
As Rhaegalur proceeded with prodigious leaps among the rocks and steep slopes, overcoming obstacles that would have required hours of walking on foot, Hayjin found himself squeezed between the former God's massive body and Zhilian's slender figure. The wind whistled fiercely in his ears that wind which Hayjin now felt like an old acquaintance, a fluid whose density and pressure against his skin he could finally perceive and calculate.
"Zhilian," Hayjin started, trying to raise his voice above the roar of their displacement. "There's one thing that's been rattling around my head since you arrived at the cabin. Now that I think about it... it seems absurd. You are the Crown Princess of Opes. How on earth is it possible that you got here, in the heart of a forest as dangerous as Exilia, completely alone? Where is your royal escort? Where are the knights in shining armor who are supposed to protect you even when you go to the bathroom?"
Zhilian remained silent for a few moments, her fingers gripping Rhaegalur's shoulders. Then, she let out a nervous laugh, a sound that held none of her usual royal solemnity.
"Promise me you won't call me crazy," she replied, turning her head slightly toward him. "The truth is, I lied. I told the Sages of the Council that I was going to play in the outer gardens, near the kingdom walls, to 'meditate' and connect with the energy of the soil. They believed me because I've been very diligent lately."
Hayjin arched an eyebrow, incredulous. "And then?"
"And then, as soon as I was out of sight, I started running. I did more than four hours of forced marching, bypassing the secondary checkpoints. When I reached the edge of the wooded zone, I used my powers to accelerate my pace, consuming almost half of my mana reserve just to get to you in time. If they had discovered me, by now I'd be locked in the Tower studying for the next three months."
Hayjin stared at her, completely stunned. "You... you risked an accident and your personal safety, running a marathon in enemy territory, just to come and ask me to be your Support? Zhilian, your logic is seriously compromised. It's a high-risk move with a very low immediate yield."
"On the contrary, Hayjin," she countered with a sly, confident smile. "It was the most logical move of my life. If I had asked for permission, they would have assigned me a Support of their choosing. Instead, now, when we arrive, it will be a fait accompli. Rhaegalur will testify that we met by 'pure chance' and that I recognized exceptional talent in you. They won't be able to say no to me in front of the former Dragon God."
As the white walls of Opes began to loom in the distance, shining like pearls embedded in the jagged rock, Hayjin decided to clarify the technical parameters.
"Speaking of the exam," he said, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his stomach as Rhaegalur leapt effortlessly across a massive crevice. "What kind of mission should we expect? You said it's an 'official mission,' but there must be a protocol. Exploration? Culling creatures? Artifact recovery? I need to know what to put in my contingency plan."
Zhilian sighed, her expression turning more thoughtful, the royal mask slipping back into place. "That's where it gets interesting or terrifying, depending on how you look at it. The Association's exam changes radically every year. The Sages and S-Rank Masters create specific scenarios to test not just strength, but adaptability. They could send us to seal a dungeon full of monsters or escort a VIP through a demon-infested forest. No one knows what the trial will be until the seal on the official scroll is broken before the Grand Master."
Noticing Hayjin's grim look, Zhilian squeezed his arm warmly. "But that is precisely why I chose you, Hayjin. If it were a test of pure strength, I could have picked anyone. But the Association exam often hides mental traps, environmental puzzles, or situations where brute magic is useless. If it turns out to be a test of intelligence or the understanding of complex phenomena... well, that's where you come in. I'll be your sword, but you must be my compass."
Then, with a hint of genuine shame, she added in a lower voice: "And, I must admit... despite the fact that I can use magic better than most of my peers, I'm a disaster at remembering theoretical formulas or spirit classifications. I never liked studying. I prefer action. If they ask me to calculate the refraction of a magic shield, I just freeze up."
Hayjin shook his head, letting out an ironic whistle. "So, what you're telling me is that I've been hired as your assistant for a potentially deadly mission? I'm almost regretting accepting. You sold me an academic opportunity, but in reality, I'm just your 'backup brain' because you're too lazy to open a textbook."
"Hey!" she protested, laughing and nudging him playfully with her shoulder. "I'm not lazy, I'm... practice-oriented! There's a big difference. And stop complaining; I know perfectly well you love being the smartest person in the room."
After a few minutes of banter, the atmosphere grew serious again. Hayjin, looking toward the castle spires now towering majestically above them, thought of the little girl who had welcomed him with such curiosity at the start of his adventure.
"And Wren? How is she?" Hayjin asked, his voice softening imperceptibly. "I'd like to show her the progress I've made. I haven't seen her since I was taken to Rhaegalur's cabin. I hope she isn't feeling too much pressure from the palace."
Zhilian's smile vanished instantly, replaced by a heavy veil of worry. "Wren... she's fine, physically. But I'm worried about her, Hayjin. Since you left, she seems to have entered a sort of frenzy. She trains all day, from morning till night, without ever stopping. She's trying to master spells that should be studied two years from now. It's as if she's in a desperate hurry to become strong, to prove something to someone... or perhaps to herself."
Zhilian looked down, where the stone houses of the Opes suburbs were beginning to flash by beneath them. "I think she's overdoing it. She should take it slow, enjoy her childhood, but every time I try to talk to her, she shuts down or tells me that 'there is no time.' I don't know what's going through her head, but I'm afraid that for her own sake, she's pushing her body and her mana far beyond the safety limit."
Hayjin reflected on those words. He remembered Wren's intense blue eyes so similar to those of a child seeking approval but hiding a burden too great to bear. He knew exactly what it felt like to feel "not enough"; he had lived through that exact same suffocating ambition back in London.
"Maybe she feels the world is changing," Hayjin murmured, his voice laced with uncharacteristic empathy. "Or maybe she's just afraid of being left behind. When we see her, I'll try to talk to her. Sometimes an outside perspective, maybe a cynical one like mine, helps put things back into perspective."
"I hope so, Hayjin," Zhilian replied, clenching her teeth. "Because if she keeps this up, I fear she'll break before she can even fully bloom."
Rhaegalur, who had been listening in, interrupted the conversation with his thundering voice: "We have arrived. Prepare yourselves. From here on, words weigh as much as swords. Zhilian, resume your royal bearing."
"Hayjin… a word of advice," Zhilian added quietly. "Try not to look too smart, or the Sages will mistake you for a threat instead of an ally."
The giant landed in the Royal Palace's private garden with the grace of a calming storm, just as the guards of honor, instantly alerted by the sudden rush of displaced air, began to converge on them with spears leveled.
The polished tips of the spears glistened under the setting sun of Opes, reflecting a cold, clinical, and entirely impersonal light. The guards of honor, clad in pristine platinum armor and cerulean silk, moved with a mechanical, almost eerie superhuman coordination. But as soon as the smoke and dust kicked up by Rhaegalur's thunderous landing cleared, revealing Zhilian's slender silhouette and Hayjin's unruly hair, the heavy clangor of metal stopped abruptly.
There was no royal salute. No formal bow. There was absolutely none of the traditional, rhythmic beating of spears against shields that usually greeted members of the sovereign bloodline.
Instead, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the lawn. The guards sheathed their weapons with chilling precision and, with an almost imperceptible, cold nod, turned in unison. They resumed their patrol positions, completely ignoring the Crown Princess, treating the newcomers not as royalty, but as mere passing ghosts.
It wasn't just rigid discipline; it was a silent, political statement. In the heart of the palace, the military apparatus answered strictly to the unyielding authority of the Council of Sages. Until Zhilian cleared her professional evaluation, to them, she was an unverified asset a temporary occupant of a title, stripped of actual power.
Zhilian, though her eyes flashed with a brief, knowing sharpness, instantly chose to break the tension. She raised a hand and waved her fingers with a radiant, entirely defiant smile.
"Hey! Good watch, boys! Next time try not to skewer me before I can get down, alright?" she exclaimed, her warm, casual tone clashing beautifully with the austere, oppressive setting.
Hayjin watched the stiff, retreating backs of the guards, then turned his gaze to the girl, arching an eyebrow as his analytical mind immediately calculated the hostile political climate.
"Geez, Zhilian. A truly heartwarming welcome," Hayjin observed, his voice laced with his usual hint of dark sarcasm. "For a moment I feared they might actually smile at you, or worse, acknowledge your existence. I wonder how you manage such... iron discipline. They're so obedient it almost seems like they're afraid of staining the floor with your shadow. Or perhaps they've been explicitly ordered to treat you like a civilian until the Sages say otherwise."
Zhilian burst into a crystalline laugh, though it carried a slightly sharper edge as she walked casually toward the great marble portico. "Oh, come on, Hayjin! Did you see how fast they turned? It's pure efficiency. They know that if they stayed here chatting with me, they'd end up having to listen to all my stories about outings with Rhaegalur, and they have strict orders from the high chambers not to be distracted by my 'royal frivolities.' In reality, I think they're just terrified I might ask them to help me polish my boots, hahaha."
"Or maybe they're just experts at pretending you don't exist to avoid the Sages' bureaucratic paperwork," Hayjin countered, though his posture relaxed slightly as they moved away from the perimeter.
As they ventured into the heart of the Palace, walking between towering columns that seemed to touch the sky and corridors where the air smelled of heavy incense and ancient, institutional magic, Hayjin's anxiety returned. The weight of the impending mission and the upcoming meeting with the Sages weighed on his shoulders more than his travel bag.
"Speaking of authority and people who would rather ignore me," Hayjin said, lowering his voice as their footsteps echoed sharply on the polished obsidian floor. "Do you really think these Sages will take me into consideration? I mean, where I come from, elderly people in positions of power have a sort of congenital allergy to the young. Especially those who don't follow the rules. If they see me as a 'magicless intruder,' they might decide I'm just dead weight. Or worse, a threat to their precious tradition."
Zhilian stopped for a moment, turning toward him. The fading light filtering through the massive stained-glass windows painted her face with colored reflections, making her expression suddenly solemn and deeply regal.
"Hayjin, listen to me. The Sages of Opes are not like the politicians or bureaucrats of your world. They are harsh, it's true. They will strip away every weakness and look at you as if you were an insect under a magnifying glass. But there is a reason we call them Sages. Their sight goes beyond raw mana and brute force. They read intent. They will understand why I chose you. They will understand that mine wasn't some sentimental infatuation with a stranger, but a calculated move to bring a perspective that this kingdom has lacked for centuries."
She took a step forward, approaching him with a contagious, unyielding confidence. "And besides, don't forget our ace in the hole."
She gestured with a nod toward Rhaegalur, who walked a short distance away, his massive presence making the very foundations of the obsidian corridor vibrate slightly.
"We have the Dragon God with us. Do you really think they will dare to question your presence when the oldest and most powerful creature on the continent has allowed you to ride on his back? Basically, there is zero chance of failing the audience. If Rhaegalur says you're one of us, the Sages will accept it even if they have to do so through gritted teeth."
Hayjin looked at the dragon in his human form, then back at Zhilian. A small, uncertain but genuine smile appeared on his face.
"Well, when you put it like that... it's hard to argue. Although the idea of being 'accepted through gritted teeth' isn't exactly a massive boost for my self-esteem. But I trust you, Zhilian. I trust your vision, even if sometimes it seems like pure madness to me."
"Madness is just wisdom ahead of its time, Hayjin," she replied with a sharp, knowing wink, before resuming the march toward the heavy doors of the Council Chamber.