「THE NEXT DAY…」
The three dark figures stood atop a hill, silently watching the column of knights retreat from Greenhill Village. The dawn light did nothing to soften their silhouettes.
"Do you plan to keep his existence a secret?" Zen asked, gesturing subtly toward the presence behind them.
"What benefit is there in being discovered with an old pup in tow?" G6 replied, voice flat.
"I told you to show some respect, Reise." Daunt's voice grumbled from behind them, a whisper in the wind only they could hear.
"Then I suppose we should consider this task void," Edmund noted, adjusting his cloak.
"Why are they traveling on foot? Their very presence makes me want to puke," G6 commented, annoyed that the Knights' slow departure was delaying their own.
"Animals add significant weight to teleportation devices; marching is more efficient," Zen answered.
"Then even the tools in this world are useless. What's the point if it can't handle a few horses?" G6 grumbled.
"If only a single direct descendant of House Sertiz had remained..." Zen murmured, gaze drifting toward the horizon.
"What was that?" G6 asked, interest piqued.
"House Sertiz. Long ago, the entire direct lineage perished in a… convenient fire. A tragedy of unknown causes. They pioneered teleportation tools, based on the theories of their unique family affinity: Spatial Magic."
"However, Spatial magic is notoriously difficult to manifest outside the main bloodline. When the main family died, a tertiary branch house assumed the title… despite possessing no Spatial affinity whatsoever." His expression darkened. "The incident is a court taboo. Many believe it was foul play. The new 'Marquess' was promptly elevated, largely by presenting research authored by the true Marquess. A lack of evidence buried the case."
"Hmm. Typical bullshit," G6 said, unimpressed.
"Indeed. A tiresome narrative. I have heard it like before," Daunt chimed in, tone dripping with ancient boredom.
Edmund and Zen exchanged a glance. The similarity between master and familiar in their cynicism was becoming unnerving.
"There's a hearsay that the heir might still be alive. His was the only body never recovered," Zen added. "But the relatives insist a two-year-old could only have been turned to ash. That was fourteen years ago."
"How does a Spatial affinity holder function?" G6 asked, ignoring the tragedy, focusing on utility.
"Limitless transport. That's why they were vital. The original Marquess Sertiz was once head of the High Court."
"Hmm. Entertaining if that kid were still alive." G6's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I'm certain many power-hungry vultures would come after a lad like that."
She paused, a slow, predatory grin spreading—the same she wore when targeting a new 'pawn.'
"I may not be 'power-hungry' in the traditional sense... but I am down for convenience. A personal teleporter sounds like a dream."
The two men felt a familiar chill. G6 wasn't interested in justice for a lost heir; she was looking for a way to never ride a horse again.
❈.❈.❈
After waiting nearly an hour for the knights' dust to settle, the trio mounted and set off at a punishing pace, Daunt loping beside them as a streak of silver and shadow. Just before the capital gates, they halted. With a flash of light, Daunt dissolved into the intricate lines of G6's tattoo.
They arrived at the capital gates as the sun bled into the horizon.
Now, they stood before Liam's desk.
"So… the task is void?" Liam asked, skepticism plain.
"As it turns out, the reported wolf disturbance had already vanished by the time we arrived," Edmund lied smoothly, voice a perfect mask of disappointment.
"Is that so? Then, I shall trust your word." Liam knew better than to press. "Take these fifty silver coins as compensation." He slid a heavy leather pouch across the counter.
"Great. You actually possess a conscience," G6 commented dryly, leaning against a nearby pillar.
"Hehe. Of course, G6... thank you for... nothing, I suppose," Liam said, scratching his head with a nervous chuckle.
"Should we rest?" Edmund suggested.
G6 offered a curt nod and led toward a table in the furthest, darkest corner.
"Oh... hey! Take off those goddamn cloaks, you freaks!" a drunk adventurer bellowed.
The trio ignored him. The drunkard stood, stumbling, and reached to yank down Zen's hood.
Before his hand touched fabric, Zen's fingers clamped around the man's wrist like a steel vice. A suffocating, murderous aura flooded the area.
"Get lost," Zen said, voice a low, vibrating growl of lethal intent.
The drunk man paled, sobriety returning in a flash of primal fear.
"Hey, let them be! Just drink!" a colleague interjected, scrambling to pull the terrified man away. "Forgive him! He's had too much!"
Zen didn't respond, releasing the wrist and sitting in silence. G6 watched, arms crossed, expression hidden behind her shades, looking as if she'd hoped for more entertainment.
"I'll have a beer," G6 stated.
"Me too," Zen added.
"Then I suppose that order is directed at me," Edmund sighed. "Fine. I'll fetch the drinks."
As Edmund stepped toward the bar, the guild's heavy doors chimed open. The atmosphere shifted instantly as two men in polished silver armor entered.
Vice Captain Cortez and Lieutenant Libert.
Without a word, G6 and Zen leaned back into the shadows.
"How may I assist the Imperial Guard?" Liam asked, voice gaining a cautious edge.
"We are here to inquire if any tasks were recently issued regarding Greenhill Village," Libert asked.
"Ah, there was! But the adventurers dispatched there just returned; the task was voided."
"Why so?" Cortez pressed, eyes scanning the room.
Liam's mind raced. Don't tell me those three caused trouble? "They reported the wolves had already disappeared. I trust their assessment; they are capable regulars. Did they cause trouble?"
"'They'? How many were there?" Cortez asked, tactical mind at work.
"Eh... five?" Liam lied, throwing the count off.
"There were only three, right?" Libert whispered to Cortez.
"I see. Thank you for your time." Cortez signaled to Libert, and they turned to depart.
"Why is the Captain so obsessed with them, anyway?" Libert whined as they walked toward the door. "Just some mysterious adventurers."
Just before exiting, Cortez's gaze swept the room one last time. His eyes fell for a split second on the two figures in the far corner. G6 sat perfectly still, posture unnervingly straight, as if staring directly through his soul from behind her dark lenses.
Cortez lingered a heartbeat too long, a sense of recognition tugging at his mind, before he finally turned and followed Libert into the night.
"Well, they are proving persistent pests," Zen murmured, watching the door.
"I was unaware they had become so attached to us," Edmund noted, returning with three frothing beers.
"They likely lost their 'wings' the moment they saw us end that trash in a minute, after they struggled so pathetically," G6 said, a ghost of a smirk on her lips. "The whisper of their own inadequacy makes them uneasy. Fun to watch."
No, Zen thought, taking a slow sip while watching her. It isn't just that. You are simply far more calculative... and far more dangerous than anyone realizes, Lady Reise.
❈.❈.❈
"So, what's our next move?" Zen asked, wiping foam from his lip.
"How do you bypass the Palace gates, Zero?" G6 asked, mind already calculating re-entry.
"By climbing."
"Is the wall not protected by the same barrier as the gate?"
"No. The walls are considered high enough to be a barrier. Did you know the outer walls are deemed impenetrable?" Zen asked with a hint of challenge.
"Hmm. Then how do you scale a 'giant, impenetrable' wall?"
"A precise combination of strength and speed via physical enhancement magic. Focus mana into your feet with perfect coordination," Zen explained. "I have mastered the physical arts; only my innate affinity remains a work in progress."
G6 turned to her butler. "Can you do this, Edmund?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Tsk. Then why didn't you use this skill before?" G6's voice held a sharp edge of irritation.
"I apologize, Captain. Previously, my primary concern was your safety and the risk of exposure. But things are different now." Edmund lowered his voice as he leaned in. "We can utilize the walls as our new 'gate.'"
G6 looked out the window, watching city lights flicker as darkness deepened. "It's late enough. Let's move."
"We shall return home through the back door," Zen said, draining his beer to the last drop.
❈.❈.❈
The trio halted a kilometer from the iron gates, beneath the shadow of an ancient oak. Edmund gave a low, sharp whistle. A stableman emerged from the gloom, took the reins without a word, and vanished back into the trees.
The three cloaked figures ran. They moved under the dense canopy like predators, like seasoned intruders, until the treeline ended and the sheer stone of the Palace wall loomed before them.
Zen offered a sharp nod. From the highest branch overlooking the perimeter, he leaped. A surge of mana let his feet stick to the vertical stone for a heartbeat before he vaulted up and over the battlement.
Edmund followed—a mirror of that same disciplined, quiet power.
G6 was last. She activated Reaper's Ascent. Her body became a blur of dark motion defying gravity, her cloak snapping as she cleared the stone lip.
They landed in silence within the Palace gardens, melting into the utility department's deep shadows. They moved like ghosts, slipping past patrols until they reached the window of their private chambers.
One by one, they vaulted through the casement. G6 pulled back her hood and removed her shades, her grey eyes catching the moonlight.
"Now," she said, a thread of cold satisfaction in her voice. "This feels more like me."
…❈…
They parted. In her room, G6 removed the Quicksilver Band. A shimmer, and her practical clothes vanished, replaced by training gear.
Her tattoo pulsed with faint blue light. With a surge of cold air, Daunt materialized in the center of the room.
"Reise, your hair is... different. And your eyes. So this is your true appearance without those dark lenses," Daunt observed, tilting his great head.
"I said: tell me about the All-Seers," G6 repeated, voice dropping an octave.
Daunt sighed, settling onto the rug. "I have lived for two millennia. I have never met them, but they are the architects of this world. I was born from their divine resonance, blessed by the God of War, the Goddess of Death, the God of Prosperity, and the God of Fate."
"Continue."
"They never directly intervene in the mortal realm. Until, in a distant age, they bestowed their first blessings upon the four kingdoms. The West received Prosperity; the East, the Holy Kingdom, was given Lumina, the purest divine light; the North gained the Power of the Spirit King; the South, an indomitable Warrior's Aura." He turned his piercing gaze back to her. "Do you believe they were simply being generous?"
"No. They gave their blessings for a singular purpose: to halt the Great Wave." Daunt.
"The Great Wave?" G6.
"The uprising of the Outcasts. Humans tainted by demonic—more accurately, devilish—lineage. They hailed from the heart of the four kingdoms…"
"The Charnel Land," G6 filled in.
"Precisely. It was once 'The All-Domain,' where all species coexisted. Until five hundred years before the blessings, it began with a human woman from the North who fell in love with a demon prince. A violation of universal law. The All-Seers remained silent but sent a single message: 'You must bear the consequence.'"
"Generations passed. The Outcasts—shunned by all four kingdoms and eventually unwelcome even in their own home—multiplied. They were seen as sin incarnate, a living disgrace."
"Hatred festered. Anger consumed them. They asked, 'What is wrong? What is wrong with loving someone different?' Anchored by black magic and righteous fury, they revolted."
Daunt's form seemed to grow heavier. "The All-Seers foresaw this. They knew blood would drown the world. But why did they not intervene? Are gods not meant to be merciful?" His majestic face fell. "Then, a messenger's voice echoed: 'So that these beings will remember the cost of failing to bear the consequence.' The blessings were not gifts. They were weapons forged to annihilate those who dared defy cosmic law."
Hmm. The consequence is endless prejudice. Their freedom taken away. The cost of not bearing it is… genocide.
"The war dragged on for five hundred years. Finally, the All-Seers converged their power into a single, perfect mortal vessel, who led the final, cataclysmic charge that pushed the Outcasts back into the All-Domain. The four kingdoms 'won.' They sealed the borders and scrubbed the name from history, renaming it the 'Charnel Land.' Then the All-Seers, they erased the memory of the war from the survivors. This was one thousand years ago. And as centuries pass, the power of those blessings weakens and fades. A sign of peace."
G6's voice was dry as bone. "So, is the home of these All-Seers in Hell?" A hint of mockery laced the question.
Daunt's laugh was sharp, without true mirth. "The reason I tell you this, Reise, is because you are a Chosen One. But I am afraid this is all the information I can give. You must now deduce why you were chosen."
G6 leaned back, grey eyes fixed on the ceiling. Moonlight painted her features in stark monochrome. "Perhaps," she murmured, "because our moral compass aligned."
And so, the Reaper learned the first true history of her new world. Not a tale of heroes and monsters, but a ledger of love punished, of difference purged, of blessings born from blood. The gilded cage of the palace, the petty games of nobles—all of it was set dressing on a stage built over a mass grave. The curtain had fallen on the prologue.
The next act would not be about survival, but about choice. And the weapon known as G6 finally knew what she might be meant to destroy.
Daunt said the fading of the blessings was a sign of peace.
No one had yet asked what their return signified.
But the answer was already given.
—END OF SEASON 01—