Chapter 611 – Behind the Smiles
The royal court of Aetherion wasted no time after Kanzaki's bold declaration. By nightfall, the nobles had transformed the great hall into a glittering venue for a feast, announcing that a banquet would be held to welcome the "heroes from another world."
Long tables were laid with silver platters, crystal goblets, and dishes whose aromas filled the air—spiced meats, roasted game, vegetables drizzled with golden oil, and fruits arranged like art. Music drifted through the room from a group of bards, but the melody, though beautiful, sounded strange to ears used to a different world.
For Class 2-B, this was their first night in this world, and already, they felt like pieces on a board.
Princess Celestina sat at the high table with the king, the nobles fanning out beside them. Below, twenty-two chairs had been prepared for the summoned heroes.
As they took their seats, the students couldn't help noticing the way the nobles' eyes lingered on them—measuring, weighing, and smiling with polite interest.
Kanzaki, sitting near the front, looked thrilled, his posture perfect, as if he were already part of the court. The others, however, were far less enthusiastic.
Celestina rose, her blue and silver dress glittering in the torchlight.
"Honored ones," she said, "you have come to us from beyond the veil, summoned in our hour of greatest need. This night, we welcome you as friends, as allies, and—" her voice softened—"as hope."
Applause rippled through the hall. Kanzaki smiled and nodded proudly. But at the table where Haruto and his friends sat, the reaction was different.
"Hope," Matsuda Kenta muttered under his breath, his chopsticks still untouched. "That's a nice way of saying 'tools.'"
"Keep your voice down," Fujimoto Saki whispered, though her lips barely moved. "They're all watching."
Tachibana Yui glanced toward the high table, her blue eyes sharp. "Just eat quietly. If we start a scene, Kanzaki will use it as an excuse to speak for us again."
Haruto, calm as always, used his fork to turn over a piece of roasted meat, examining it more than tasting it. His voice was low. "They're already planning. Look at their eyes. They think we've agreed."
Shiratori Aoi, sitting beside him, nodded faintly. "And Kanzaki doesn't see it."
Okabe Riku grinned humorlessly. "Why would he? This is his dream. Nobles, magic, princesses—he probably thinks this whole banquet was thrown just for him."
Halfway through the meal, Princess Celestina left her seat and began walking down the length of the table, greeting each student with a soft smile and a few kind words.
When she reached Kanzaki, she lingered, speaking warmly to him, her golden hair catching the light as she praised his "bravery and leadership." Kanzaki practically glowed under the attention.
But when she moved on to the others, her approach was more measured. She asked polite questions:
"What do you think of our kingdom?""Are the dishes to your taste?""Do you have worries about life here?"
Each time, the students answered courteously, but there was a distance in their tone.
And as soon as she turned her back, the whispers began again.
The banquet lasted late into the night. Finally, the students were escorted to the rooms prepared for them in a quiet wing of the palace.
Kanzaki, exhausted but proud, went straight to his chamber without a second thought, already imagining the next day's glory.
But Haruto and six others—Saki, Yui, Kenta, Reina, Aoi, and Riku—did not sleep. They slipped quietly out of their rooms, gathering in a small unused study on the second floor. A faint lamp lit their faces, and the murmur of music from the banquet hall below had long since faded.
Kenta broke the silence first.
"That idiot nearly signed all of us up for a war tonight."
Fujimoto Saki crossed her arms. "Not 'nearly.' He did. The way those nobles were smiling? They think we're already enlisted."
Tachibana Yui's voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "We need to decide something now. From this point on, Kanzaki does not speak for us."
Haruto leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable. "They see him as the leader because he was loud. That's all it takes in a place like this. But from now on, we need to be careful. We stick together, and we speak for ourselves."
Yamamoto Reina adjusted her glasses, her tone precise. "From this moment forward, none of us agrees to anything without discussing it as a group first. No matter what they offer."
Aoi's soft voice followed. "If they separate us, we meet again after. Always."
Okabe Riku leaned back in his chair, smirking faintly. "So the rule is: no solo hero speeches. And no more letting Kanzaki write checks the rest of us can't cash."
Haruto nodded. "Exactly."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation settling in.
"This isn't a game," Reina said. "We can't forget that."
Before they left, Yui spoke once more.
"We don't know why we were summoned. We don't know if there's a way home. But from now on, our first priority is making sure none of us gets dragged into something because of Kanzaki's mouth."
Everyone nodded.
One by one, they slipped back to their rooms. The palace was quiet, the moonlight pouring through the hallways.
Far away, at the high tower of the castle, the princess stood alone on her balcony, looking out at the city below. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, but in her eyes there was a flicker of something—curiosity, and the beginning of a plan.
The banquet hall had finally emptied, leaving only the faint glow of candlelight and the scent of spiced wine. Celestina stood at the balcony overlooking the silent courtyard. Her expression remained composed, but her advisor, a tall elf with silver hair, waited quietly in the shadows behind her.
"They are not ordinary," the elf said softly.
Celestina's fingers tightened slightly on the railing. "No. Even without affinities, I could feel it the moment they appeared. Their bodies… the strength in their movements. They are untrained, but they are each on par with our best commanders."
"That strength could change the war."
"It will," Celestina said. "It must."
She turned her head slightly, her golden hair catching the moonlight. Her voice lowered. "But do not mistake their strength for loyalty. You saw it, didn't you? How they whispered among themselves at the table? They do not trust me. And their leader…" She paused, eyes narrowing faintly. "That boy Kanzaki may believe he speaks for all of them, but the others… they do not follow him. Not yet."
The elf advisor stepped forward. "Then should we try to separate them?"
"No. Separation breeds rebellion. Let them remain close to each other. But I need them to fight. For that, they need to see this world not as a hall of luxury, but as a battlefield. When they see the blood, when they see what the Demon King has done, they will have no choice but to act."
Her voice hardened.
"This kingdom cannot afford hesitation. If these twenty-two do not fight, the Demon King's armies will overrun everything. I have done many things for this crown—things I will never admit, things that stain my hands forever. If I must lie to them, if I must use them, I will. My people come first."
She stepped back into the chamber, her dress whispering against the marble floor. "Assassins, bribes, spies—I have done it all. Compared to those, this is almost clean. I will give them a reason to hate the Demon King. I will throw them into a war they cannot ignore."
The elf bowed his head. "And if they resist?"
Celestina looked out the window again, her voice like cold water. "Then we will push them where they need to go. They will either break… or they will become the blades this kingdom needs."
Her golden eyes reflected the moonlight as if they could see far beyond the city walls, past the forests, and into the war waiting on the horizon.
The next morning came quickly, and the palace was already awake long before the sun had fully risen. Servants knocked on the doors of each of the twenty-two students, guiding them out to the royal training grounds.
The air was cool, the grass still damp with dew, and the field stretched wide, ringed by stone walls and towers where soldiers stood watching. Knights in full armor, instructors, and court mages lined the perimeter. All of them had gathered to see the newly summoned heroes for themselves.
Class 2-B walked out together, still in their school uniforms, their steps light on the stone path. The nobles and knights whispered among themselves at the sight—these weren't warriors. They looked like children.
"This is a joke," a young knight muttered to another. "They look like they've never even held a sword."
"I heard the princess say they had no training," another replied. "We'll be lucky if they can even lift a blade."
The captain of the knights, a man in his thirties with broad shoulders and a scar across his jaw, stepped forward. "Princess Celestina has ordered that we evaluate your capabilities," he said, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "You will begin with physical tests. After that, we will see your control over mana, if you have any at all."
Kanzaki smiled as if this was his stage. "Leave it to us," he said, walking to the front.
But Haruto and the others hung back. They weren't interested in showing off.
The first test was simple: a heavy stone block, the weight of a small horse, was placed at the center of the field. "Move it ten steps," the captain instructed. "Those who cannot move it, we will know your limits."
Several soldiers tried to lift it as a demonstration. It took four of them straining together to drag it just a few inches.
When it was Kanzaki's turn, he grabbed the edge with both hands and lifted. His arms trembled at first, but the block began to rise, and with a loud shout, he carried it forward, step by step, until he reached the tenth line.
The knights were surprised, but before they could react, Matsuda Kenta walked up silently. He crouched, gripped the same stone with one hand, and lifted it as if it were no more than a bag of flour. He walked ten steps with no sound, no effort, and set it down.
A ripple of shock went through the field.
"Impossible," one of the mages whispered.
Then Yui, Reina, Riku, and Saki each took their turns. None of them struggled. Even Aoi, slender and quiet, carried it easily with both hands, her expression calm.
The murmurs of the watching knights grew louder.
"These… these children," one said, "their bodies are as strong as our best captains. Without a day of training."
When Haruto stepped forward, he didn't even look at the stone for long. He crouched, lifted it with one hand, then tossed it into the air and caught it again just to test the balance. The block landed with a thud that made the ground shake.
The knights stepped back, staring at him.
"This is strength beyond mana," the captain muttered.
The tests continued: sprints across the yard, climbing ropes, lifting weighted logs. Every single one of them completed the tasks without breaking a sweat. Some soldiers began whispering nervously, others stared with awe.
Then came the mana test. A row of crystal orbs was laid out, meant to measure magical capacity. One by one, the students touched the orbs, and each time, the glass lit up with a brightness the instructors had never seen. Even without affinities, their mana reserves were deep, far beyond what the knights and mages had expected.
By the end of the morning, the field was silent.
Princess Celestina, standing at the edge with her advisor, watched every moment. She didn't speak until the last crystal dimmed.
"They are everything I thought," she said softly. "Strength without training. Mana without discipline. If we shape them, they will be unstoppable."
The advisor nodded, still stunned. "But unshaped, they are… dangerous."
Celestina's lips curved into a faint, calculated smile. "Then we will shape them quickly."
From the field, Haruto and his friends glanced at each other. None of them missed the way the princess was looking at them.
They understood now why they had been summoned.
The sun had climbed higher by the time the sparring portion of the evaluation began.
After the tests of strength and mana, the knights looked unsettled, but the captain barked orders, trying to recover their composure. Wooden practice weapons—swords, spears, and shields—were brought out and laid across the field.
"Strength is one thing," the captain said, raising his voice for all to hear. "But battle is not just strength. Technique, composure, and experience win wars. Let's see if you can stand in a fight."
He called for volunteers from his men. A handful of knights stepped forward, grinning with confidence despite what they had just witnessed.
"They can swing a rock around," one knight whispered to another as he tightened his gauntlets. "Let's see what they do against someone who knows how to fight."
The captain paired them up: one student against one knight at a time. Kanzaki, naturally, stepped up first.
His opponent lunged without hesitation, blade aimed at Kanzaki's shoulder. Kanzaki's movements were clumsy—he had no footwork, no form—but the raw speed and power behind his parry sent the knight's weapon spinning out of his hands. A second later, Kanzaki's wooden sword was pressed against the man's chest. The match ended in three seconds.
The watching soldiers fell silent.
"Beginner's luck," someone muttered.
Next came Matsuda Kenta. His stance was loose, unrefined. He didn't even bother to hold the sword correctly. When his opponent lunged, Kenta sidestepped instinctively and swung down with a strength so great the knight's shield shattered. A follow-up sweep knocked the man to the ground, breathless and disarmed.
Riku laughed as he watched. "Guess that's two."
One by one, the students stepped forward. Yui was matched against a spear-wielding knight. She didn't block; she simply stepped in at the last moment, grabbed the shaft with both hands, and yanked. The knight stumbled, and Yui's wooden sword tapped him lightly on the side of the head before he could regain balance.
Reina faced a mage-knight, one who relied on wind magic to accelerate his strikes. Even so, she never faltered. The man's strikes glanced harmlessly against her guard. With careful timing, she deflected the blade and countered with a clean strike to his chest that knocked him flat.
Saki's match ended in a single blow. Her opponent charged with a shield, confident he could overpower her. She met the shield with a forward swing, the wooden sword cracking against the center. The shield was wrenched from his grasp and thrown aside as if hit by a falling tree. He had no time to react before the next swing tapped his neck.
Aoi was quiet as she stepped up, her eyes calm, posture almost careless. When the knight lunged, she turned slightly, letting the attack pass by her, and flicked her weapon upward into his chin. It wasn't enough to hurt him badly, but he fell backward, stunned, staring up at the sky.
The murmurs around the training ground rose to full whispers now. The soldiers couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Then came Haruto.
He didn't grip the sword like the others. He held it loosely, looking more curious than tense. When the captain called "Begin," the knight rushed forward with perfect form, sword raised for a precise, crushing downward strike. Haruto didn't even swing. He moved half a step to the side, tapped the knight's wrist with the flat of the wooden blade, and with that simple touch, the knight dropped his weapon. A second later, the tip of Haruto's sword was pressed against his throat.
It was over before anyone even understood what had happened.
A heavy silence blanketed the training yard.
The captain's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "Again."
They tried sparring with groups, three knights against one student. It didn't change the outcome. The students had no style, no technique, but their overwhelming strength, speed, and instinctive reactions turned every clash into an easy victory. They dodged blows without thinking, blocked without effort, and when they struck, the knights could barely stay on their feet.
At the edge of the field, Celestina watched it all. Her golden eyes didn't blink, didn't miss a moment.
When the final match ended and the last knight was thrown to the ground, breathing hard, the captain stepped forward, looking pale. "Princess… these summoned ones… they are monsters. Even untrained, they fight as if they were born for war."
Celestina's lips curved into that same faint, unreadable smile. "Good," she said softly, her voice carrying across the yard. "Then we will make them into the heroes this kingdom needs."
Her words sent a chill through the students who heard them.
Haruto glanced at Saki, Yui, and the others standing beside him. Even Kanzaki, smiling proudly at his victory, didn't seem to notice the way the knights were looking at them now—with awe, yes, but also with a quiet fear.
And above them all, the princess stood, her eyes sharp as blades, already planning the next step.
The training yard had emptied by the time they were led back to the wing of the palace set aside for them. The corridors were silent, lit by faint lamps, but Haruto and the others didn't go to their rooms immediately. Instead, when Kanzaki left with a grin, already boasting about how well he had done, they gathered in the same unused study as the night before.
Saki was the first to break the silence. "I don't like the way she looked at us."
Yui sat cross-legged on a chair, her expression thoughtful. "It wasn't admiration. Not like she saw hope. It was like she was… measuring pieces on a board."
"She's planning to use us," Reina said plainly. "From the moment we arrived, that was obvious. But today confirmed it."
Kenta let out a breath and leaned against the table. "You saw her face, right? Even when we beat her knights like they were nothing? She didn't look surprised. She looked satisfied."
"She already knew," Riku said. "That's why she summoned us."
Aoi sat quietly by the window, her gaze turned to the night outside. "Those knights weren't weak," she said softly. "Even if we don't know much about this world, it's clear they were strong here. But she never cared that they lost. She only cared that we could win."
Saki tightened her grip on her arms. "So what now? It's not like we can just walk away."
"We'll stick to what we agreed yesterday," Reina replied. "No one speaks for us. No one makes a decision alone."
"And we watch her," Yui added. "She wants to turn us into weapons. Fine. But if she tries to push us, we need to know what she's planning."
Kenta laughed without humor. "Feels like we traded one world's problems for another."
Riku grinned faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "At least back home, if someone looked at me like that, I could walk away."
The room fell quiet for a moment. Aoi glanced toward Haruto, who had been silent since they came in, leaning against the far wall. "You've been quiet," she said softly. "What are you thinking?"
Haruto slowly lifted his eyes to the group. "I saw something today," he said, his voice calm, steady. "The princess is clever. Dangerous. And she's not going to give us time to decide what we want. She's going to make sure we have no choice."
"And?" Yui asked. "You sound like you're holding back something."
"I wasn't planning to say this yet," Haruto said. "But you all need to know. We talked about affinities yesterday. About how none of us have them."
Everyone turned to look at him.
"I do," he said finally. "I didn't realize it until after mana awakened back home, and I've kept it hidden. My affinity is darkness."
The room went still.
Darkness affinity—something so rare that even in their world, it was almost unheard of.
Saki stared at him. "You're serious?"
"Yes," Haruto said. "I can't use it well. I barely know what I'm doing. But if she finds out, she'll use me first. And I'm not giving her that advantage."
Yui leaned forward. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying we need to be ready," Haruto said. "For her. For whatever's coming next. If we don't want to be her weapons, we can't show her everything."
The group exchanged looks, silent but united.
Outside, the cold wind brushed against the stone walls of the palace, carrying the faint echo of the knights' earlier training. Somewhere far above them, Celestina looked out over her kingdom, unaware that seven of the summoned heroes had already decided to keep a part of themselves hidden from her.
And in the quiet of that room, Haruto's eyes reflected the dim lamplight—deep, dark, and steady.
Chapter 612 – Blades in the Dark
The moon was high over the palace, its pale glow cutting through thin clouds and spilling across the silent courtyards. Most of the summoned class slept in their rooms after the exhausting training session, but one room on the second floor remained lit by a faint lamp.
Inside, Haruto sat with Saki, Yui, Reina, Kenta, Riku, and Aoi. The wooden table between them was scattered with cups of untouched tea, their conversation low and serious.
"What happened today… proves it," Saki said, leaning forward. "She's not planning to wait. That look in her eyes—she's going to throw us into a war whether we like it or not."
Kenta crossed his arms. "And Kanzaki? He's eating out of her hand. He'll drag us along with him if we're not careful."
"We'll handle Kanzaki," Reina said firmly. "The bigger problem is her. I don't believe a word she says about this war anymore."
Yui nodded. "There's something off. It's too neat. Too perfect. A summoning ritual right when she needs heroes, a speech ready the moment we arrive… even that training field felt staged."
Haruto listened quietly, the shadows of the room clinging to him like a second skin. "You're right. Today was a test. She wanted to see what we could do, and she got her answer."
"And now she'll plan her next move," Riku muttered. "I hate sitting around waiting."
Aoi's voice was soft but clear. "Then maybe we shouldn't wait."
Before Haruto could reply, the air shifted. Faint, but sharp, like the sudden change before a blade falls. Every muscle in his body tensed.
"Do you feel that?" Yui whispered.
Haruto's eyes narrowed. "Someone's here."
They rose silently, instinct guiding them to move without a sound. Mana pulsed faintly at the edge of their senses. It wasn't the heavy presence of knights or the clumsy flow of inexperienced soldiers—it was quiet, smooth, practiced.
Haruto gestured for the others to stay back. He stepped into the corridor, the light behind him throwing long, thin shadows along the floor. The faintest scuff of a boot echoed from the far end.
And then the night exploded.
Figures moved out of the darkness, fast and silent. Blades glinted in the dim light, their approach soundless. Their forms were lean, their movements almost animal—beastkin.
Haruto reacted instantly. Darkness spread from his feet like a pool of ink, thick and cold. It wrapped around him, muffling the sound of his steps, and in that moment, he vanished into the shadow.
The assassins lunged—but they never reached the door. One by one, they were dragged into the darkness as if swallowed by the floor. Wooden blades snapped from their hands, a whisper of movement behind them, and then silence.
When Haruto reappeared, five beastkin assassins were on the ground, pinned and disarmed, their breathing ragged but alive. His friends stared, wide-eyed, at the faint traces of shadow still coiling around his arms before fading.
Saki exhaled. "So that's what darkness affinity looks like."
The assassins didn't struggle. Their leader, a tall wolf beastkin with silver-gray fur, raised his eyes to Haruto. "You could have killed us," he said quietly. "But you didn't."
"You attacked first," Haruto replied. "Talk."
"We were sent here," the beastkin said, his voice low and even. "Not to kill you. My mission was to take you out of this kingdom."
The group exchanged confused glances.
"What do you mean?" Yui asked, stepping closer.
The beastkin's golden eyes narrowed. "What that princess told you about this war is a lie. The so-called Demon King you were summoned to fight—he rules demons, yes. But he has not declared war. The demons, beastkin, and vampires are in alliance. It is this kingdom that seeks war."
Reina's voice was cold. "You're saying this whole story is false?"
The beastkin nodded. "The princess wants weapons. You. She summoned you because she knows that if you fight under her banner, the alliance will fracture. The beastkin continent sent me to prevent that. To take you away before she can use you."
Kenta frowned. "So this whole Demon King thing—"
"Is propaganda," the assassin interrupted. "She wants you to believe you're fighting evil. But what you are really fighting… are nations she cannot control."
The words hung heavy in the silent corridor.
Haruto crouched, looking the beastkin directly in the eye. "If what you're saying is true, then why tell us? Why not just take us?"
The beastkin's ears flicked. "Because you deserve to choose for yourselves. If you come with me, I can get you out of this kingdom tonight. If you stay, the next time you walk onto a battlefield, you will be fighting under her lies."
The shadows around Haruto's shoulders shifted faintly, restless. Behind him, his friends exchanged uncertain looks.
None of them trusted Celestina. But could they trust this stranger?
Before anyone could answer, footsteps echoed from the far hall—knights rushing toward the noise. Time was running out.
The beastkin looked at Haruto one last time. "Decide quickly. Do you stay here and become her tools… or do you leave with me and learn the truth for yourselves?"
The question burned in the air as the sound of armored boots closed in.
Haruto's hand clenched around the hilt of the wooden sword he still held. His eyes, dark as night, locked on the assassin.
And in that moment, the chapter ended.
Haruto's eyes stayed on the beastkin leader, reading his face for a long, silent moment. Behind him, the sound of metal boots was getting closer, echoing through the long corridor like a drumbeat. There was no time left to argue or weigh every angle.
He made the choice.
"Move," Haruto said quietly. "We're going."
Saki's eyes widened. "Haruto—"
"We can't stay here," he said, his voice calm, final. "If what he's saying is a lie, we'll know soon enough. But if it's true, and we wait, we'll end up in a war that isn't ours."
Yui was already on her feet. "Fine. I trust your call."
Kenta's mouth twitched into a grin that had no humor. "This is insane, but… better than being someone's dog."
Reina and Aoi both nodded silently, already understanding the risk.
Riku exhaled, shaking his head as he stood. "Guess we're really doing this. Alright, lead the way, wolf-man."
The beastkin smiled faintly, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Follow me. And stay close to the shadows. If the knights see you now, even your strength won't keep this quiet."
Haruto raised a hand. "Go. I'll cover the sound."
The corridor darkened, the faint light of the lamps snuffed out as if someone had pressed a black cloth over the walls. The shadows spilled out from Haruto's feet, rolling like fog, softening every sound.
"Stay inside this," Haruto said. "As long as you're near me, they won't hear us."
The beastkin's ears twitched as he glanced back, impressed despite himself. "So this is darkness affinity…"
They moved quickly. The group followed the beastkin down side halls, past sleeping rooms and long stretches of marble lit only by thin strips of moonlight. Twice, they slipped into servant corridors to avoid patrols.
The closer they came to the outer wall, the more beastkin Haruto's senses picked up. Hidden figures, scattered like pieces on a board. Every time one of them saw the group, they vanished, moving ahead. It was clear this rescue had been planned.
Near the edge of the palace, a faint whistle echoed—so soft it was almost lost under the wind. The beastkin leader answered with a low growl. A moment later, a section of the stone wall shifted aside, revealing a narrow passage.
"This way," he said.
They ducked into the darkness, and the wall sealed behind them.
The passage was tight and sloped downward. The air smelled of earth and stone. After a long, tense descent, the tunnel opened onto the outside.
The night air hit them like cold water. Before them stretched the forest beyond the city walls, the trees black and silver under the moonlight. Waiting there were half a dozen more beastkin, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"We move fast," the leader said. "We have to be clear of the capital before they realize you're gone."
Yui glanced back at the towering city walls, lit with torchlight. "And if they catch us?"
"They won't," the beastkin said. "Not if you trust me."
For a moment, Haruto looked back as well, the dark stone towers cutting into the sky like knives. Somewhere up there, in one of those towers, Celestina was likely still awake, believing all twenty-two summoned heroes were exactly where she wanted them.
Without another word, Haruto turned away and followed the beastkin into the trees.
The forest swallowed them whole.
Chapter 613 – The Camp in the Silent Forest
The forest seemed endless.
Tall trunks blocked out the moonlight, and the wind hissed through the leaves like whispers. For hours they ran, guided only by the beastkin scouts ahead of them. Haruto's group didn't complain; even without training, their bodies had long since surpassed human limits, and they could keep up with the beastkin without losing breath.
It was only when the first orange glow of dawn touched the treetops that the leader finally slowed. He raised a hand. The others melted into the shadows, scanning the trees for danger.
They came to a stop in a hollow covered by roots and rock. A wooden hatch, invisible at first glance, opened silently at the leader's touch. Beneath it was a sloping tunnel, the smell of pine and earth thick inside.
"This way," he said.
Inside was nothing like the cold stone of the palace. The tunnel opened into a wide cavern, lit with warm lanterns. There were furs laid over the floor, low tables, and a fire pit in the center. Beastkin—wolves, foxes, and cats—looked up as they entered, ears twitching in surprise, then dipped their heads respectfully to the leader.
"You can rest here," the leader said. "You'll be safe for now."
Riku collapsed onto a fur mat with a sigh. "Finally. I thought we'd run forever."
Saki sat down beside him, eyes sharp as she looked around. "I'm not sitting until you explain everything. If we're going to risk being hunted as traitors, you'd better have more than a story."
The leader sat across from them, the firelight throwing his gray fur into sharp relief. He gestured for one of the younger fox beastkin to bring water.
"My name is Cael," he said. "I serve as a scout and spy for the beastkin council. What I told you last night was not a trick."
"Then start from the beginning," Haruto said.
Cael's yellow eyes narrowed. "You were summoned here with lies. The so-called Demon King—his name is Ardan. He rules the demons, yes, but he has never declared war on the human kingdoms. Two years ago, the demon race, the beastkin, and the vampires formed an alliance to stand against the human kingdoms that were expanding into our lands. We wanted only to hold our borders."
"And the kingdom that summoned us?" Reina asked.
Cael's expression hardened. "Arveila. Princess Celestina has been looking for a way to turn the balance. With your power, she could crush the alliance before it grows too strong. So she spread a story: that Ardan was attacking, that he is a 'Demon King' bringing chaos, and that they needed heroes from another world to save them."
"Then why summon us?" Yui said. "If they wanted soldiers, they already have knights and mages."
Cael's tail flicked. "Because you're stronger than any knight or mage. We know what you did yesterday. Those knights never had a chance. She doesn't just want soldiers. She wants gods she can control."
Kenta let out a low whistle. "So that's why she was smiling like that. She doesn't just want us to fight. She wants us to tip the whole war in her favor."
"And what about the vampires?" Saki asked. "She said they serve this Demon King."
Cael shook his head. "Another lie. The vampires have chosen neutrality for centuries. They only joined us because Celestina's father started sending armies into their lands. And the beastkin? We just want to be left alone."
Haruto's voice was quiet but steady. "So if we fight for her, we're not fighting monsters. We're fighting people who are trying to protect themselves."
Cael nodded. "Exactly. That's why I came to take you away. We don't want you to fight for her. If you return to her, she will drag you to the front lines and use you until you are nothing."
Silence fell over the group. The flicker of the fire reflected in their eyes as they processed his words.
Saki broke it first. "So what do we do now? Just… hide here?"
"No," Cael said. "I will take you to the beastkin continent. There, you can decide for yourselves. Meet the leaders of the alliance. See with your own eyes what this war truly is before you choose which side you fight for—or if you fight at all."
Riku leaned back on his hands. "And if we choose to walk away?"
"Then you walk away," Cael said. "No one will chain you. We only ask that you don't return to her."
Aoi's soft voice carried through the quiet. "She'll come after us."
"Yes," Cael admitted. "She will not let you go easily."
Haruto looked at the others. None of them argued. None of them looked back toward the kingdom they had just left.
He finally spoke. "Then we go with you. Until we see the truth for ourselves."
Cael smiled faintly. "Good. Rest now. Tonight, we move."
As the others began to settle on the mats, Haruto stayed awake by the dying fire, the faint curl of shadows moving at the edge of his fingertips. Somewhere behind those distant walls, he could almost feel Celestina's eyes searching for them.
And for the first time since they'd arrived in this world, he felt like they were finally moving on their own path.
By the time the first light of morning slipped through the cracks of the wooden hatch above, the camp had already begun to stir.
The smell of roasted roots and smoked meat filled the cavern as the younger beastkin prepared a simple breakfast. Haruto's group gathered near the fire pit, their voices low, the memories of the previous night still weighing heavily on their thoughts.
Riku bit into a piece of dried meat and glanced at Cael, who was sharpening a curved dagger with slow, deliberate movements. "You've told us about the demons, the beastkin, and the vampires," he said, his voice breaking the morning quiet. "But what about elves and dwarves? Where do they stand in all of this?"
Saki nodded, leaning forward. "Yeah. Back home, they were always part of the same stories. Do they pick sides here?"
Cael stopped sharpening the blade and looked at them. "The elves and dwarves are different. They are neutral. By choice and by tradition."
Yui tilted her head. "Completely neutral?"
"Yes," Cael said. "The elves of Aetherion do not care about the kingdoms of men, or the lands of demons, or even us. They guard their forests, and as long as no one crosses their borders, they do not interfere."
"And the dwarves?" Reina asked.
"The dwarves are the same, but for different reasons," Cael explained. "They live deep underground. They trade with anyone who can pay their price, whether beastkin or human, but they will never fight someone else's war. They've done it before, centuries ago. It cost them so much that now their only loyalty is to their own clans and their forges."
Kenta leaned back against the wall of the cavern, arms crossed. "So they're just watching while everyone else tears each other apart?"
Cael's golden eyes flicked toward him. "They see it as survival. In their minds, the humans bring their wars on themselves. The elves and dwarves will not risk their people for that."
Saki let out a low breath. "So we can't expect help from them."
"No," Cael said. "Not unless one of your own forces them to care. Even then, their help comes with a price."
Riku smirked slightly. "Figures. Some things never change. Even in another world."
Cael slid the dagger back into its sheath. "Do not assume neutrality means harmless. If you step into their lands without permission, the elves will kill you before you see them. The dwarves will bury you under stone. Stay away from their territories unless you are invited."
The group fell into thoughtful silence. The warmth of the fire didn't change the cold understanding that was settling in their minds: in this world, alliances were fragile, and trust even more so.
Aoi's voice, soft but steady, finally broke the quiet. "So it's really just us, isn't it? We can't trust anyone but each other."
Haruto looked at her, then at the rest of the group. "That hasn't changed since the moment we were summoned."
No one disagreed.
Outside, above the hidden cavern, the morning wind moved through the forest, carrying with it the faintest sound of distant horns from the capital—a sign that, somewhere far away, the search for them had already begun.
The midday sun filtered faintly through the dense forest canopy by the time the group began moving again. Word had come from Cael's scouts: the capital had mobilized. Patrols were combing the outer roads. Scent hounds and mages were being used to trace mana trails. Celestina had noticed their absence, and now she wanted them back—badly.
Haruto and his friends stood just beyond the hidden hatch as Cael gave quiet instructions to his scouts. The beastkin moved with practiced discipline—no loud voices, no wasted motion. The urgency in their movements wasn't panic. It was efficiency born of experience.
"The fastest way to the beastkin continent is through the southern marshes," Cael explained as he knelt over a crude map drawn in charcoal on bark. "Then past the Sylrath Mountain border. From there, a boat will be waiting near the forest delta. Three days on foot if we move quickly."
Yui crouched beside him, frowning. "What about roads?"
"We avoid them," Cael said. "Celestina's forces will control every path, every bridge. They'll expect you to take the easy route. We won't."
Reina raised her hand slightly, her tone dry. "And the monsters?"
Cael's eyes narrowed faintly. "We'll handle them if they come. Just don't draw attention."
Riku patted the back of his head. "Guess subtlety isn't really Kanzaki's thing…"
Everyone looked at each other for a moment. Then, almost in unison, they shared a breath of relief—Kanzaki wasn't here. It was one less variable.
They set out at once, slipping into the green-gold world beneath the trees. The forest seemed to welcome them at first—cool shade, soft soil, birdsong echoing between moss-covered trunks. But it was only a matter of hours before the land began to change.
The trees grew stranger the farther south they went. The bark twisted into unfamiliar shapes. Vines moved slightly even when no wind touched them. At one point, Saki swore the shadows of the branches above had eyes.
Haruto remained silent but alert. His senses were stretched thin across the surroundings. At times he felt something watching them—but every time he reached out with his mana, it vanished.
They made camp at dusk beneath the overhang of a stone cliff, building no fire. Beastkin guards kept watch. The rest of the class sat in a circle, sharing dry rations and sipping filtered water.
Kenta leaned against his pack. "This place is way more intense than it looks."
"You can feel it too?" Aoi whispered. "Like the forest isn't empty?"
"It isn't," Cael said from the shadows. "There are things here that don't care about war or kingdoms. Things that sleep beneath roots and bones. They only stir if you get too close."
Saki frowned. "That's comforting."
Despite the tension, the group stayed close, watchful. At one point during the night, one of the younger beastkin returned breathless with a report: a royal scout party had passed just an hour to the west, still following old trails.
"We're ahead of them for now," Cael said. "But we can't slow down."
The next day was worse. The trees thinned, replaced by tall grasses and wet ground. The marshes stretched like a half-drowned graveyard—muddy, buzzing with unseen insects, and filled with still pools of dark water that didn't reflect the sky.
They walked for hours with boots sinking into muck and the sound of splashes behind them when nothing had moved.
At one point, they passed a half-sunken ruin—an ancient stone tower tilted at an angle, the upper floors barely visible above the black water. The beastkin gave it a wide berth.
"What's in there?" Riku asked.
Cael shook his head. "Nothing that knows the sun anymore."
By evening of the second day, they reached the rise before Sylrath Ridge.
From the top, they saw it: beyond the misty cliffs, in the distant lowlands, vast forest plains bathed in orange sunlight stretched toward the ocean. And near the farthest edge, almost hidden beneath the coastal cliffs, was the faint gleam of light reflecting off sails—the beastkin port.
"That's the last checkpoint," Cael said. "Once we cross the mountains, we're out of Arveila's reach."
But even as hope rose, Haruto's senses stirred again. A shift in the wind. A foreign presence on the trail below. He turned toward it—still too far to see clearly—but his shadow stretched without his movement. Something was coming.
Yui narrowed her eyes. "Did they catch us?"
"No," Haruto said, his voice low. "Not yet. But they're not far."
Cael stepped forward. "We reach the port by nightfall tomorrow. If they find us before that, we'll be forced to fight."
Reina looked at him. "Can we win?"
"We can run," Cael said. "That's better than winning."
As the sun set behind the forest, the group prepared for the final stretch, knowing that tomorrow would decide everything.
Chapter 614 – The Narrow Path
Dawn broke like blood across the horizon—sharp, fast, and hot. The forest mist had vanished, leaving the air dry and tense. Cael had the group moving before the sun had fully risen, their path narrowing into rocky slopes and winding ridges that forced them to march in single file.
The beastkin scouts had confirmed it an hour before: royal trackers were behind them. Fast. Skilled. And getting closer.
"We have until sundown," Cael said as they jogged along a narrow ridge. "After that, the port departs with or without us. If they catch us before then…" He didn't finish.
They all understood.
Haruto led the center of the line, eyes constantly shifting through the trees and cliffs. His shadow moved unnaturally now—longer than the light should've allowed, twitching slightly when his concentration rose. His control was growing, quietly.
Behind him, Yui, Reina, and Saki moved in rhythm, scanning every gap in the trees. Kenta and Riku handled the rear, staying alert for any signs of pursuit. Aoi kept to the sides, quiet but observant.
They descended into the lower trail just past midday—a sharp switchback of ancient stone steps overgrown with moss. That was when the sound came.
A distant hornblast. One short, two long.
Riku flinched. "They found us."
Cael bared his teeth. "Scouts saw us. They'll signal their main force. Maybe six, eight knights. They'll try to block the pass."
Saki's eyes narrowed. "Then we go faster."
"No," Haruto said, stepping in front of her. "We don't outrun them. Not completely. I'll slow them down. The rest of you go ahead."
"You can't fight all of them alone," Yui said sharply.
"I'm not going to fight them," Haruto replied. "Just delay them. I'll use the shadows to mislead them. I'll catch up before the cliffs."
Cael met his gaze for a moment, then nodded once. "If you're sure, do it quickly. We'll hold the path until you return."
The group split. Haruto peeled off into the treeline, moving with complete silence. Shadow peeled from his boots and hands, trailing behind him like smoke. He moved along the cliffs, weaving illusions—false footprints, faint scents, soft echoes in the air—using every instinct his affinity gave him.
He didn't face the knights. He simply vanished from sight, spreading false trails like a net.
Back on the main path, the group descended toward the sea cliffs. The wind grew stronger now, carrying the scent of salt and tides. In the distance, sails glinted. The port was real. The ship was still there.
But so were the knights.
As the group reached the last bend before the rocky shoreline, six mounted soldiers appeared at the far edge of the path, armored and grim.
Kenta swore. "They came around another way!"
Reina stepped forward, one hand raised. "We're not going to kill them. Just disable them."
Cael's scouts melted into the sides of the cliffs, ready to ambush if needed.
One of the knights raised his hand. "By order of Her Highness Princess Celestina of Arveila, stand down. You are under royal custody. If you come peacefully, no harm will come to you."
Riku muttered, "Yeah, sure. That line never changes."
The knights moved in. Fast. Coordinated. Well-trained. But not trained for opponents like them.
Yui lunged first, her movement fluid as wind. Her wooden training blade smashed the leading knight's helmet off with a single swing, sending him sprawling before he could react.
Kenta met a charging lance with his bare hands, grabbing the shaft mid-thrust and twisting the rider out of the saddle like a rag doll.
Saki struck with focused speed, dropping two with swift, bone-snapping strikes to the knees and shoulders. Reina and Aoi worked in tandem—precise and controlled, their strikes careful to disable without killing.
Even as the knights tried to recover, it became clear: these weren't ordinary students. This wasn't a fair fight. It was over in less than thirty seconds.
The knights groaned on the ground, stunned and disarmed. One reached for a whistle—until Cael's knife pinned his hand to the dirt.
"We don't kill," Cael growled. "But make another move, and I'll change my mind."
Haruto arrived a moment later, his coat streaked with faint wisps of shadow. "The others are misdirected. We have ten minutes. Maybe less."
Cael nodded once. "That's all we need. Go."
The final path was steep, carved into the side of the cliff itself. Waves crashed far below. The ship waited at the base—a sleek vessel of dark wood, sails already unfurled, crew ready to depart.
As they descended, one of the beastkin scouts ran ahead and waved his signal. The gangplank dropped.
"Move!" Cael barked.
They sprinted the last stretch. Feet slammed into wood as they crossed onto the deck. The captain—a tall tiger beastkin with one eye and silver earrings—nodded once, then shouted, "Pull anchor!"
Ropes tightened. The sails snapped. And slowly, the ship began to drift away from the cliff.
Behind them, on the ridge, a new wave of knights appeared—dozens, too late to stop them.
Celestina was not among them.
Saki leaned over the railing, chest rising and falling. "We made it."
Haruto didn't respond immediately. He was staring back at the shore, eyes unreadable.
Yui touched his arm. "You okay?"
He nodded. "Just wondering how long before she chases us again."
The ship turned into the wind, and before them stretched the open sea—deep, cold, and vast. Somewhere across those waves, the truth of this war waited.
And for the first time, the path ahead belonged entirely to them.
The ship sailed for two nights and a day, cutting through cold winds and gray waters. Though the weather remained clear, an invisible weight hung in the air—none of the students spoke much, still digesting what they'd left behind and what lay ahead.
At dawn on the third day, land came into view.
It began as a jagged dark line against the horizon, but as they drew closer, the coastline revealed itself: cliffs of blue-gray stone rising from foamy surf, and beyond them, a vast forest of crimson trees and golden plains bathed in morning light. Wooden watchtowers stood like sentinels at intervals along the cliffs, and behind them, faint plumes of smoke rose from distant cities.
"This is the beastkin continent," Cael said quietly as he joined them on the upper deck. "We call it Velhara."
As the ship approached the shore, a dock emerged from the trees—broad, fortified, made from pale wood shaped with precision and care. Dozens of beastkin waited: guards in armor, scouts with bows, and a few figures in elegant robes that marked them as something more.
From a distance, they looked like humans—tall, graceful, serious. But as they came closer, the differences were clear. Their ears were pointed or furred, twitching as they tracked sound; their tails flicked or swayed behind them, controlled and expressive.
One of the waiting figures stepped forward as the gangplank was lowered. She was tall, with dark brown hair braided to the side and wolf ears poking through her head covering. Her furred tail swayed behind her with quiet authority. Her eyes were sharp amber.
"You brought them," she said to Cael without preamble.
"I did," Cael said. "No injuries. They escaped Arveila's grasp."
The woman turned to face Haruto and his group. "My name is Tyrra. I speak for the Beastkin Council. You are welcome here—but know that you are being watched. Many in our alliance do not trust humans, especially those summoned by a kingdom like Arveila."
"We're not here to serve Arveila," Haruto said. "Not anymore."
"Good," Tyrra replied. "Then follow me. The leaders are waiting."
They were led down a winding forest path, carefully cleared but surrounded by ancient trees. Along the way, other beastkin paused their tasks to glance at them—some with curiosity, others with quiet suspicion. Most looked no older than their teens or twenties, but their eyes carried the weight of long experience.
At the center of the forest stood a circular structure built into the trees themselves, like a natural cathedral. Branches arched to form a roof, and carved platforms served as walkways. Guards lined the entrance, bowing slightly as the group passed.
Inside, the temperature cooled, and the forest light filtered through the leaves above like stained glass.
Three figures waited at the raised center platform.
The first was a beastkin—an older man with silver fox ears, dressed in ceremonial armor and marked with tribal beads.
The second was a vampire—pale skin, crimson eyes, long black hair pulled into a regal braid. Her aura was ice-cold, composed, and unreadable.
The third was a demon—tall, with red skin like burned clay, short black horns curving back, and robes of deep blue. His presence was quiet but impossibly heavy.
"You are the summoned ones?" the demon asked first. His voice was deep, calm. "The children of Earth?"
"We are," Yui said.
"You left Arveila," the vampire woman said. "Why?"
Saki stepped forward. "Because they lied to us. About the war. About the Demon King. About all of you."
The beastkin elder watched them in silence for a moment, then said, "And yet you came here. You crossed the sea, passed the borders of our lands. You have no allies here."
"We didn't come as enemies," Reina said. "We came to find the truth."
The vampire's crimson gaze sharpened. "Truth is a luxury in war."
"And lies are cheaper in kingdoms built on blood," Riku replied.
A faint smile curved the edge of her lips. "You may not be completely foolish."
The demon finally stood. "Then sit. Listen. And we will tell you what your princess would never have said."
The students lowered themselves onto the offered mats as the forest fell still.
And then, the truth of the war began to unfold—how the alliance was formed not out of aggression, but out of necessity… how the demon lands had suffered invasions long before Arveila claimed to be the victim… how Celestina's kingdom sought control of leyline-rich regions… and how the summoning spell had been designed not to save the world—but to conquer it.
As the story deepened, a single truth became clear to Haruto and the others:
They had not been summoned as heroes.
They had been summoned as weapons.
And now, for the first time since they arrived in this world…
they had a choice.
The fire crackled softly in the heart of the forest hall as the students listened. The vampire's voice was smooth, deliberate, but carried a cold sharpness beneath every word.
"This war didn't begin with Celestina," she said. "It began with her father—King Joffrey of Arveila. A man with a golden tongue and an iron grip, whose smile hides a hunger deeper than any demon's."
The demon lord nodded. "Before he took the throne, the human kingdoms were disunited. Fractured. He changed that. Not with unity—but with conquest."
Tyrra stepped forward from the shadows. Her voice was low, steady. "He took borderlands first. Lands shared by beastkin villages and nomadic clans. Said we were trespassers. Invaders. He called it 'reclaiming'."
Cael's tail twitched beside Haruto. "Some of those villages were older than his entire bloodline."
"And when we resisted?" the vampire added, her red eyes narrowing. "He called it war. The first skirmishes were small—he sent knights, mercenaries, claimed the villages were overrun with monsters."
Reina leaned forward. "Let me guess. He blamed the demons next."
The demon lord's gaze darkened. "He used words like 'corruption' and 'dark influence.' Said we were spreading chaos beyond our lands. And when we refused to kneel, he sent fire. Then steel."
Haruto's hands clenched silently on his knees. "And the vampires?"
The vampire's tone didn't change, but the firelight caught a flicker in her eyes. "He claimed we were feeding on travelers. Staged attacks. Hired rogue bloodmages. Created stories of villages drained overnight—when it was his own soldiers who had slaughtered them."
Kenta cursed under his breath. "And Celestina just smiled through it all?"
"She was never a fool," Tyrra said. "But she played the dutiful daughter. Every move she's made since the summoning has followed her father's blueprint."
Saki's voice was tight. "So all that talk of the Demon King… was a lie her father crafted years ago."
The demon lord nodded. "The name 'Demon King' was created by Joffrey himself. To give the world a villain to rally against. We—" he gestured to the three of them—"have been fighting for survival, not conquest."
Aoi looked toward Haruto. "Then the real king is still on the throne."
"Yes," Tyrra said. "And Celestina acts as his shadow. Charming. Beautiful. Deceptively gentle. But every lie, every sacrifice, every summoning—began with Joffrey."
Cael added quietly, "And now that you've escaped… they'll do anything to get you back."
The group sat in heavy silence. The truth hadn't just changed the battlefield—it had shattered the entire map.
Reina finally said what they were all thinking. "So what do we do? Go back and expose him? Or stay here and fight?"
"You'll need to decide that for yourselves," Tyrra said.
The flickering light danced across their uncertain faces. But in each of them, something had changed. The curtain of illusion had been torn away—and whatever choice they made from this moment forward would be entirely their own.
Chapter 615 – The Names That Shape the War
The forest hall emptied slowly after the meeting. Alliance guards, aides, and scouts retreated to the outer walkways, leaving only a small circle around the central fire. The beastkin had brought a fresh pot of herbal tea, its aroma sharp and earthy, and set it between Haruto's group and the three leaders seated across from them.
Tyrra, who had acted as both guide and speaker, remained standing beside the fox-eared elder, her posture composed but alert.
Now that the students had heard the truth of the war, it was time to meet the ones who shaped it.
The fox-eared elder rose first. Though old in appearance, his presence carried undeniable strength—his silver ears flicked subtly, and his tail moved with slow grace.
"I am High Councilor Rhogar, First Fang of Velhara," he said. "I was born during the last war between beastkin and men. I swore then I would not see another. Yet here we are."
He bowed his head—not low, but respectfully.
"I recognize your strength. I do not yet recognize your loyalty. But if you are willing to listen, I will treat you as kin until you prove otherwise."
Haruto gave a small nod. "We understand."
Next, the demon lord stood. His steps were deliberate, silent despite his massive frame. His horns were curved backward like blackened stone, and though his skin was the color of ancient brick, his deep blue robes moved with a regal stillness.
"I am Velnor, Sovereign of the Eastern Demon Tribes," he said. "In your world, I would be called a king. But here, I am simply one voice among many. The demons no longer seek conquest. We seek only survival. The fire that once consumed us has faded… and we have no desire to stoke it again."
He looked at each of them in turn, his eyes deep-set and ageless.
"Know this: if you had drawn your blades against us, I would have met you in battle without anger. But if you choose to stand beside us instead, then I will offer you shelter, steel, and truth."
Saki met his gaze and gave a single nod. "We came here for exactly that."
Then the vampire rose.
She was shorter than the other two, but there was something otherworldly in the way she moved—quiet, smooth, like mist clinging to moonlight. Her crimson eyes gleamed softly in the forest glow.
"I am Lady Selvaria Nightveil, Warden of the Blood Court, and the youngest of the Nine Vampire Lords," she said. "I am older than your country. Perhaps older than your world remembers."
She tilted her head slightly, studying each of them with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"The others refused to attend this meeting. Vampires rarely interfere. We prefer shadows to stages. But I came for one reason: to see the summoned children with my own eyes. And now that I have… I understand why the humans feared you enough to chain you with lies."
She turned, her gaze settling on Haruto. "Especially you."
Haruto didn't flinch. "I'm not your enemy."
"No," she murmured. "You're something much more dangerous than that."
Then she stepped back.
Tyrra looked between them all. "These are the voices of the alliance. They do not always agree. But they stand together—for now."
Yui crossed her arms lightly. "So what happens now? You've told us the truth. Do you expect us to fight with you?"
Rhogar's ears twitched. "We do not demand. But we ask."
Velnor nodded. "You may rest, speak, wander. This forest is neutral ground. But soon, we will need an answer."
Riku raised an eyebrow. "Why the rush?"
Selvaria's smile vanished.
"Because," she said softly, "Joffrey will not wait. And even now, his shadows move."
The fire in the center of the hall dimmed slightly as a cold wind whispered through the trees.
Far away, beyond the forests and the sea, Arveila's banners stirred beneath morning sunlight—unaware that the summoned weapons they had hoped to wield now sat among the very forces they called enemies.
And the war they thought they controlled… was beginning to shift.
Saki leaned back slightly, arms crossed, her sharp eyes studying Selvaria with open curiosity.
"Blood Court," she said aloud, as if tasting the words. "Sounds a lot like the Crimson Court from our world."
Selvaria arched one brow, her expression still and cool. "Crimson Court?" she repeated.
"Yeah," Saki nodded. "It's a vampire organization back in our world. Old, secretive, full of ancient nobles and night-dwellers. Pretty much all the major vampire clans answer to it. At the top is a queen—Vampire Queen Ileana Draculesti. She's the ruler of their hidden society. Terrifying. Elegant. Practically immortal."
Selvaria blinked slowly, but her posture didn't shift. "A queen?"
"Yeah." Saki tilted her head. "What, you don't have one here?"
Selvaria's gaze narrowed, and for a brief moment, her perfectly sculpted expression fractured—just slightly. A flicker of amusement? Surprise? It was gone before anyone could name it.
"No," she said simply. "In this world, there is no Vampire Queen."
Reina leaned forward. "Then who rules the vampires here?"
"The Blood Court is a council of nine," Selvaria answered. "Each of us holds dominion over our own territory. We govern by consensus—when we must—but most of the time, we remain separate. We have no monarch. We do not bow to a crown."
"Must be chaotic," Riku muttered.
Selvaria glanced at him, her smile returning, thin and dry. "It keeps us from growing too comfortable."
Saki frowned thoughtfully. "So there's no central power among the vampires. No unified leadership."
"No," Selvaria said again, her tone firmer. "And no Queen Ileana."
For a heartbeat, Haruto noticed the faintest flicker of something unreadable in her expression—like a shadow brushing the edge of a long-forgotten memory. But it passed.
"Still," Selvaria continued, folding her hands smoothly in her lap, "your Crimson Court intrigues me. I wonder… if such a queen existed here, what would she be like? Regal and distant? Or savage and bloodthirsty?"
"She was both," Saki said, a little more quietly. "But she protected her people."
Selvaria's crimson eyes locked with hers. "Then perhaps your world is luckier than you know."
An uneasy silence lingered around the fire.
Reina shifted. "So, in this world, you lead one part of the vampire race—but you don't speak for them all."
"No," Selvaria said once more. "But when I speak, they listen."
Yui glanced at Haruto, then back at the three alliance leaders. "Sounds like even without a crown… the war is giving all of you a reason to stand together."
Velnor's voice rumbled quietly. "For now. If we survive it."
Rhogar's tail swayed slowly behind him. "And if you truly mean to help us, that survival begins with what you decide next."
Haruto nodded, absorbing every word.
The fires were low now, flickering between roots. Outside, the forest began to stir with the light of a new day—and with it, the weight of the world that had waited far too long for someone to finally see through the lies.
Riku leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tapped the side of his temple.
"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that there's no Vampire Queen here… and none of you have seen what one can really do?"
Selvaria arched a brow. "Do you mean to imply that your 'Queen Ileana' is more than just a political leader?"
Riku grinned. "Oh, way more."
Rhogar and Velnor turned their attention to him as well now, their postures sharpening ever so slightly.
"In our world," Riku continued, "Queen Ileana is said to have power equal to that of a god. Not exaggerating. There was a moment, about two years ago… hold on."
He reached into the pocket of his school blazer and pulled out something small and rectangular—his normal phone. The screen was cracked, battery low, but it still worked. He flicked through the gallery with a few practiced swipes.
"Got it," he said, holding the phone out. "Here's a video. Not mine—news coverage, but someone recorded it before the data was suppressed."
The three leaders leaned closer. Selvaria's crimson eyes narrowed.
On the small screen, grainy footage played:
A vast mountaintop under a stormy sky. Two female figures stood atop it, their power palpable even through the low-resolution recording.
One was Queen Ileana, her long black silver whipping in the wind, crimson eyes glowing, and her gothic royal dress flowing like liquid shadow.
The other was Ishtar, the Mesopotamian goddess of war and love—golden armor, radiant wings, fury dancing in her eyes.
They stood face to face, arguing in a language the camera couldn't pick up—but the hostility was clear. Words turned into shouts. Then, without warning, they attacked.
Power erupted. Shadow met starlight. Waves of destruction tore through the mountain. The clouds above split. The earth below cracked open. For minutes, they fought—fast, lethal, apocalyptic. From a distance, it looked like gods clashing at the end of the world.
And then, as suddenly as it began, the fight ended.
The two women stood apart again—breathing heavily, not a scratch on either of them. The mountain around them was gone. Flattened. A smoking crater remained where a sacred peak once stood.
And then the video cut out.
Riku lowered the phone. "They had a disagreement. Fought like it was to the death. Wiped out a mountain. And a few days later? They met again for tea. Like nothing ever happened."
The silence in the hall was absolute.
Selvaria's gaze had lost all pretense of calm. Her lips parted slightly—not from fear, but from stunned awe.
Velnor's arms folded slowly across his chest. "You claim a vampire fought a goddess to a standstill… and left unscathed."
"I don't claim it," Riku said casually. "I watched it."
Rhogar's tail was still, frozen mid-sway. "No being in this world—vampire or otherwise—has ever stood against a true god and walked away."
"Well," Saki muttered, "Queen Ileana's not from this world."
Selvaria leaned closer, her voice soft and low. "What kind of world do you come from… where such beings are not worshiped, but invited to tea?"
Riku smirked. "A complicated one."
Selvaria sat back slowly, a flicker of something dangerous—perhaps admiration, perhaps envy—flashing in her crimson eyes.
"No Vampire Queen," she murmured. "Perhaps… that was our mistake."
Haruto, though quiet, had been watching their reactions carefully. The weight of their silence said more than words ever could.