"It would be good for them if we allowed a small part of the residential area," one general suggested.
"But leaving them there with no real benefits—does it justify rebuilding the buildings for strangers from another country?" another replied.
"If they discover who's truly behind all of this… I can't imagine the chaos that would follow."
Bjorn sat at the left side of the large oval table, listening quietly. Across from him, General Vermillion . The discussion focused on solutions for the refugees. Bjorn's gaze flicked to Wulfric from time to time, expressionless except for a thoughtful nod here and there.
Might be daydreaming about his little nine-tailed fox, Bjorn thought, smirking slightly.
Wulfric finally spoke. His cold tone silenced the room immediately:
"With the so-called humanitarian forces we agreed upon, we must cover up everything after the campaign. It's been five months since their disappearance without explanation. Transporting these refugees to temporary housing without their consent could be considered—" He hesitated. "—taking away their… whatever rights. And the massacre of the clan's leaders—how many deaths were recorded? Or did you all just close your eyes and act as you pleased?"
Bjorn sipped his tea calmly. "The main mansion families were completely eliminated by an unknown assailant. Our Special Forces have yet to determine the species responsible."
Robert noted the careful use of the word species. This was no ordinary situation; something mysterious was at work, possibly a grudge against the family.
"I'd call this campaign a failure," Vermillion commented, "since we couldn't rescue the lady or her family."
Wulfric's fingers tightened. "The Lady, her servants, and guards were eliminated. We attempted to rescue their daughter, but she vanished despite our efforts. Special Forces found a secret path behind the bookshelf—it has been opened, but too narrow and possibly trapped. His Majesty will decide what to do."
Wulfric's shoulders tensed further at the mention of the secret path, tied to the prophecy only certain people could know. He had insisted she survive at all costs, and now, after so long, worry consumed him.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. A figure stepped in, carrying a person over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, their head covered with a bag. The figure tossed the person to the floor with a loud thud. "Ouch!!" muffled through the bag.
All eyes turned to the struggling human.
Bjorn's voice cut through the tension: "Sir Cypher, not only late to the meeting… but what exactly is this? A little courtesy—knock before entering any room—wouldn't hurt."
Cypher grinned. "Just checking on my teammates in the infirmary, Your Majesty. But by chance… I caught a sneaky little fox wandering near the restricted area."
He kicked the bag. Another muffled yelp echoed. Vermillion moved to intervene. "Even if wandering into restricted areas is a problem, this is excessive. Stop acting like a madman. His Majesty will decide the consequences."
Cypher shrugged, arms crossed. "Right. Let's see what he does. I'm curious about the punishment for this little fox. Am I right, Your Majesty?"
Wulfric rose, unease flooding him. He stepped to the fallen figure and crouched, carefully removing the bag. His heart stopped.
Her hair. That iconic hair, unique to her and her mother. He had waited so long to see it again. Instinctively, he reached to untie her blindfold.
"What color are her eyes… yellow? No… blue?"
Their eyes met as the bandage fell. Crimson. Deep, unforgettable crimson.
"I've always wanted to see these eyes again, to feel this… expression," Wulfric whispered, almost to himself. "She's grown into a breathtaking woman… Does she remember me, or are we strangers now?"
He touched the faint marks on her face. Yueyao recoiled, hissing, annoyed by both his touch and the stares of the others. His lips twitched in amusement. She never changed.
Bjorn's eyes flicked to Cypher. "Someone's going to die here," he muttered.
Wulfric's grip on her worn robes tightened. Cypher sneered. It was clear she had been tortured—likely for interrogation, as an enemy intruder.
Yueyao struggled against her restraints, anger flaring. "I'm not doing anything! I got lost trying to find my room! Why must you always use violence?! Don't you understand HUMAN RIGHTS?!"
Veins popped on Wulfric's forehead. Bjorn stood slowly, eyes like bullets on Cypher. "Cypher… we'll have a private conversation in my garden later this evening. Some issues with the campaign need discussion."
Cypher's grin widened, unhinged with excitement. "As you please, Your Majesty!" He bowed and clapped, delighting in the thought of private time with Wulfric. Everyone else found him sickening.
Yueyao looked at Bjorn—he was the one she first met. He might understand her family's situation now. Before she could speak, Bjorn's calm voice interrupted:
"She's one of the refugees. Wandering without permission in a restricted area violates national property. Punishment is required."
Wulfric clenched his hands tightly but remained silent. He could not act publicly without compromising his image. Finally, he commanded:
"Lock her in a cell. No food or water for six days. Await my final decision on her fate."
Yueyao gritted her teeth but complied, passing Wulfric and shooting a glare at Cypher over her shoulder. Bjorn observed Wulfric's tense posture, relieved that the little fox was alive.
Wulfric returned to his palace, collapsing into his chair. His chamberlain presented fresh clothes.
"Bath is ready, Your Majesty. Do you wish to eat first? The chefs prepared herbal soup with a special winter treatment—clove flowers for your lungs."
Wulfric sighed heavily. Nothing mattered but seeing her. He rubbed his eyes. "I'll bathe first. Soup warm, not too hot. Fix the seasoning. If they can't, replace the chefs. I don't pay for incompetence."
The chamberlain nodded, accustomed to Wulfric's meticulous care for his health. Wulfric sank into the warm water, tension leaving his shoulders. Servants brought herbal soaps and oils, attending to him with gentle care. Even luxury women sent by Bjorn could not distract him from thoughts of Yueyao.
Afterward, he dressed. A tray of freshly prepared food awaited him. The main chef bowed, "We measured the salt carefully, Your Majesty. We apologize for previous mistakes."
The chamberlain announced, "Your Majesty, General Bjorn and Sir Vermillion are here, as requested."
Bjorn leaned casually against the bookshelf. Wulfric dismissed the servants and chamberlain.
"Sit," he commanded, dark eyes fixed on them as he poured the soup, still simmering with thought and tension.