The mirror stood tall and clean before him, holding the presence of a dutiful and celebrated captain. Then the words from that day echoed like thunder in his ears, creasing his forehead.
— "Enough." Lumielle's voice had been firm, unwavering. "You speak out of turn. I decide who belongs in my circle. I decide who walks beside me. And I will not tolerate this petty jealousy, especially when it veils itself in loyalty. Have you forgotten who you serve, Hynes? You are my vassal. Not my keeper."
Hynes stood in silence, eyes locked with his reflection. His jaw was clenched, his expression stormy. She's my queen. My goddess. My savior… then why—why has she forsaken me?
His eyes dropped to the royal crest emblazoned across his chest plate. The symbol felt like a weight. A mockery. I gave everything. And still… she keeps me in the dark.
With a snarl, he drove his gauntleted fist into the mirror.
CRASHHH!
Glass split and rained down in shimmering shards. He stood still, breathing hard, staring at the fragmented reflections of himself. There were a dozen fractured versions; a dozen paths. Each one a different future. He wondered which one to choose, knowing the decision would curb the rest of his life from this very moment onwards.
She hinted at corruption in the palace… then today's tragedy—was it part of that? Another orchestrated move in this web of deceit?
He clenched his teeth. The fire in his chest spread like a fever. Why must I grope blindly while they whisper behind closed doors? I am her shield. Her sword. Why am I not one of them?
In a second burst of rage, Hynes clutched the broken frame and ripped it from the wall, throwing it down with a thunderous crash. Then he turned and stormed out of the room, his sabatons clinking hard against the marbled floors.
***
The alley was swallowed in shadow. The buildings leaned like eavesdropping giants. At the far end, two figures stood just beyond a beam of light. Only their feet were visible—one clad in armor, the other in tall leather boots beneath a flowing cloak.
A silence hung between them like a noose.
"And you'll definitely keep your word that Princess Lumielle will be given to me in exchange?" asked the man in armor.
The individual in garments let out a low breath. "She's likely marked for death if she stays in that palace. Everyone knows it. If you're truly serious about taking her…" he stepped forward slightly, the cloak brushing against stone, "…then you'd best make sure she's never seen in this kingdom again."
There was no hesitation in the armored man's reply. "I understand."
***
Hidden in the shadows of the partially destroyed apothecary, Midnight's ears twitched at the faint sound of someone's approach. Olive-green eyes blinked open, his pupils narrowing as he sensed a strange aura drawing near—fire and ice, light and darkness, an enchanting eclipse.
To the Djinn of darkness, it was like sweet honey. The feline arched his back in curiosity and padded silently toward the edge of the rafters, eyes fixed on the entrance.
Outside, the last sliver of sunlight sank behind the distant mountains. The city shimmered in the glow of twilight, yet the air felt wrong—heavy, grim, like something terrible had occurred or was about to.
Fay stumbled around the bend of the byroad, panting and breathless, a woven basket on her arm. Earlier that day, she had gone alone to the market to buy ingredients for supper.
She'd wanted to show her gratitude independently this time, to return a piece of the kindness the Dravenharts had given her. But the Dungeon Break had thrown a wrench in her plans. A city-wide lockdown kept her trapped inside a shop for hours. All that mattered now was getting home.
Then she froze.
Her crimson eyes widened, and the basket slipped from her fingers, thudding softly against the grassy road.
"No…" she murmured, her voice cracking.
Before her stood the ruins of the apothecary—walls partially collapsed, glass glinting in the rubble like scattered stars. Horror seized her as she bolted forward.
"Silvie!" she screamed, stumbling toward the wreckage. "Mrs. Lefahne! Mr. Zurrel!"
She forced her way through the collapsed doorway, ignoring the jagged edges scraping her skin. She stopped breathing when she saw two familiar figures buried beneath the rubble. She dropped to her knees beside them, trembling.
"No. Th-This can't be happening. Please—wake up!" she cried, shaking them with frantic hands. "You can't be gone! You just can't—!"
Their skin was cold. Lifeless.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sobs muffled by the debris-strewn floor. Her mind scrambled for answers. Did the monsters from the Dungeon Break reach all the way here?
That shouldn't have been possible.
But what else could explain this?
Then her eyes lit up with a flicker of hope. "Silvie…" she gasped, then scrambled to her feet. "Silvie!"
She raced down the corridor, dodging broken beams and crushed shelves, navigating a path through spilled elixirs and shattered vials. Glass crunched underfoot as she reached Silvestia's room.
"No…" she whispered, staring in horror.
The roof had collapsed over the bed they used to share, the walls were cracked, the air thick with dust. Everything was broken—everything except the desk.
Her legs shaking, Fay stumbled toward it. She found a note pinned beneath a mana crystal paperweight and carefully slid it out.
To whoever finds this, all is not what it seems. Our deaths were no accident—they were orchestrated. The Kaelmonts—Lugene and Rue—they're behind this. They've allied themselves with the Mhaledictus. They're distributing pixie crystal drugs throughout the kingdom.
I'm scared… for myself and for my family. But I refuse to keep quiet. I won't. I was going to expose them. But, if you're reading this, it probably means I was not able to bring them to justice. I sincerely hope that you will be able to succeed where I have failed. Avenge our deaths by seeing to it that these monsters are punished for what they have done.
And, Fay. If you're reading this… I'm sorry… sorry for squandering the life you gave back to me. Don't try to avenge us. Don't try to play a hero… just leave the city as soon as you can and look after yourself.
There's a gift for you on my desk. If you're alive… please take it… a small token for all you've done.
I love you.
P.S. Don't forget about the egg. There's still a life left that you can save.
Fay's lips quivered as more tears flowed. Mr. Rue and Mrs. Lugene? It can't be! There has to be some kind of mistake. Is someone trying to blackmail them? But who—and why?
With slow, careful hands, she brushed aside the debris atop the desk until her fingers closed around something cool and metallic.
She lifted it up.
It was a beautifully handmade souvenir, crafted from gold-painted metal shaped like a rocky outcrop. Long, crimson, pentagon-shaped gemstones jutted out in elegant arcs, entwined with winding, vine-like accents.
Fay hugged it to her chest and fell to her knees. Her small shoulders shook as she wept. Then—
"Meow~"
She blinked several times, her vision blurred with tears. Through the watery haze, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A cat—sleek and black as night—leapt down soundlessly from the windowsill onto the desk.
She gasped softly.
The feline's olive-green eyes met hers—calm, penetrating, intelligent. It didn't move like an ordinary cat. There was something purposeful, something knowing in its steps. Still trembling, Fay didn't flinch or move away. Somehow, she understood that it meant her no harm.
The creature crept closer. Its tail swayed once, then gently touched her forehead.
Fay's breath stilled in her throat.
Suddenly, light burst behind her eyes. A flood of visions washed over her like ripples on a moonlit lake.
She saw Rue and Lugene Kaelmont, their voices like poison, their laughter cold. She saw Lefahne and Zurrel being struck down by a monstrous figure. Not a person. Not quite. It was a humanoid beast—its eyes black and empty, its movements feral. And although the creatures were slain in the end, their bodies were no longer on the premises, likely disposed of to hide the evidence.
Then came the worst—the final memory of Silvestia's scream as her parents were slain before her. Then she was rendered unconscious before being thrown over Rue's shoulder and taken away. The horrid image burned into Fay's heart.
Her knees buckled, and she curled into a ball against the table. "They didn't just die," she whispered hoarsely. "They were murdered. And Silvie saw it all…"
Her sobs came harder now, raw and broken. "I should've been here… I could've… I—" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't finish. What could she have done? She was just a girl.
The feline was nearly weightless as it leapt atop her slumped form. It purred softly, a warm, steady sound that vibrated against her skull.
But it was more than comfort. Somehow, the sound conveyed meaning. Recognition. Sympathy. And reassurance that she wasn't alone.
Then, without a sound, it leapt from her head and stepped into a nearby shadow. Its form dissolved, swallowed by the dark as if it had never been there at all.