The group fell roughly onto the beach, sand spraying everywhere as they hit the ground.
Reoloy was the first to his feet. Coughing, he waved away the airborne grit before immediately turning his attention to Avron, his system-enhanced eyes rapidly scanning the spearman for any trace of inhuman mana markings.
Finding none, he released a long sigh of relief.
"We made it out..."
Lavere sat up, rubbing the spot on her lower back where she'd landed.
"So," she said, looking at him. "Can you explain what just happened?"
Reoloy met their expectant stares—everyone's except Cisco's and Selene's. The latter was currently leaning her head back to stave off a nosebleed while the former knelt beside her with mild concern.
"We're meeting the youngest prince of Lindis," Reoloy said simply before pointing at Avron. "This guy just so happened to attract the attention of his older sister."
Belonica frowned. "And?"
"She cuts people's fingers as a hobby."
"Ah," they all said.
Suddenly, all eyes shifted to the spearman, who immediately began fidgeting under the scrutiny.
"It's not his fault… mostly." Reoloy ran his hands through his hair, brushing sand from it. "She was probably drawn to Longinus rather than him specifically."
His eyes slightly narrowed.
"Which is why I told him to leave it behind on the ship."
Avron cleared his throat.
"You're the one who gave it to me."
"Because it was in my inventory, and Gordoi and the Chieftain asked me to," Reoloy replied. "I understand being excited about getting a Mythic Grade Regalia, but you're not at the level where you should be openly flaunting something like that in the outside world."
Though he had to admit, the blame wasn't entirely Avron's. He had known that and still let him walk around with it anyway.
The exchange was interrupted by Belonica's laughter—sharp and unexpected enough that it immediately drew attention, given how she barely ever laughed.
"What's up with you...?" Reoloy asked cautiously. 'Is it a dream laikern's influence?'
"It's just that for a second, it looked like him of all people managed to get a princess to like him," she said between bursts of laughter.
That was all it took.
The rest of the Cardanians and Lohan snapped, joining in almost immediately.
"The world might as well be ending if that ever happens," Digo said, chortling.
"Ending?" Lavere echoed, a faint smile playing on her face. "We'd already be in hell."
"Avron... being liked... by a girl..." Belonica was practically doubled over at this point, one hand on the sand as she struggled to breathe through laughter. "Even the words sound too stupid to be real."
Avron's teeth ground together audibly, though he quickly tried to mask it with his usual indifferent expression.
"Guys," Edren said calmly, as if discussing the weather. "It's not that absurd a concept."
Avron shot him a surprised, almost grateful look.
"That said, I can admit it is strange," Edren continued, tilting his head. "But the way you're all reacting is making him look unnecessarily pitiful…"
The gratitude vanished instantly.
Avron turned on him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but it did nothing to stop the laughter that followed. His ears went red as the teasing only intensified, the group thoroughly ignoring his attempts to reclaim any sense of dignity.
Reoloy smiled lightly, quietly enjoying the ease in the air as his earlier tension slowly eased out of his shoulders.
"Oh, right," Lavere said suddenly. "I saw some interesting stuff on that news pamphlet thing."
"Newspaper," Reoloy corrected automatically.
"That." She nodded. "Something about recent troubles in the city after an earthquake about a week ago."
'Not shocking,' Reoloy mused. 'Ripping a large chunk of ground out was bound to rock the whole continent to a degree, but since there's the barrier in the south, we'll be fine.'
"Some names were in there too," Lavere added, her brow furrowing. "Brunfor and Alonright. It was talking about how they butted heads."
That drew all of Reoloy's attention as he scowled.
"Brunford and Alonbright? Why?"
As far as he knew, the relationship between the two factions was supposed to be a pseudo-cold-war type of dynamic. Nothing notable was supposed to have happened between them by this point in the story.
"Something about some differences at a high council meeting."
Wynn's words about Elisia leaving the capital not long ago resurfaced.
'If it's her... but no, she wouldn't...'
He exhaled, pushing the thought aside.
"Well, it's none of our business. We're just here to pop in and pop out."
The rhythmic crashing of the unnatural waves carried across the beach, mingling with the others' occasional snickering at Avron's expense—which, at some point, had somehow come to involve Selene as well, only further deepening his humiliation.
Then the laughter died as a faint rustling came from the treeline.
A few seconds later, branches parted, and a familiar figure stepped out from the shade, his hands tucked into his pockets as though he had merely been out for a leisurely stroll.
Roy blinked at the sight of the entire group gathered on the sand.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Master Gordoi was right. You really did come back."
Roy took in their appearance with mild amusement and curiosity. Sand clung to their clothes, several of them looked as though they hadn't slept, and, most unmistakable to him, Avron looked absolutely miserable.
For a moment, the group simply stared at him. Then Belonica smirked and pointed at the object of their entertainment.
"Avron thought he was getting a girlfriend."
"I never said that!"
The future captain of the militia nearly fell over on the spot. He caught himself at the last second, however, remembering why he had come in the first place.
"That's actually hilarious," Roy said, muffled snickers still shaking his shoulders.
"I'll kill you," Avron gritted out.
"I almost wish I had time to hear the full story." Roy continued unbothered, letting his gaze drift to Reoloy instead. "But the big wigs want to see you."
The reincarnator blinked. "Me? Now?"
He paused, watching Roy give a small nod before letting out a quiet sigh of resignation.
"I might as well."
---
- Main Council Chambers -
Unlike the grand hall Reoloy had been brought to on his first day in Cardana, this chamber was far more modest. The room was circular, its walls lined with more comfortable, hovering seats arranged in a wide arc.
Only one chair remained unoccupied.
It sat at the very centre of the back wall, slightly elevated above the others and upholstered in a distinct shade of deep crimson.
Assuming it was simply the last available seat, Reoloy walked over and dropped into it.
Without hesitation, everyone else took their places in the chairs lining either side of him. Then, once the room had settled into silence, the seats gently lifted higher into the air.
Reoloy's eyes widened.
For a brief moment, he forgot to maintain his composure.
He quickly straightened himself, folding his arms, and pretending that having furniture suddenly ascend into the air was a perfectly ordinary occurrence.
'This is pretty high up...' he thought, then remembered they were literally on a flying turtle-shaped ship. He had no place being afraid of heights now.
The meeting room carried a different atmosphere from the beach—professional, contained, deliberate, and heavy with expectation.
Reoloy sat a fair distance away from most of the thirteen elders he had met only a handful of times before. The closest people to him were Leno and Gordoi to his right, and Meyer to his left. Altogether, the arrangement felt unmistakably like a council rather than a casual conversation.
The old men and women's gazes were fixed on him with varying degrees of scrutiny, as though they were collectively trying to define something they did not understand.
Reoloy, meanwhile, looked like he was trying very hard to appear less lost than he actually was.
"We called for you in the middle of your endeavour," one of the male elders began at last, his voice calm but weighted. "Because we would like to understand your future intentions."
"My future intentions?" Reoloy repeated, blinking once. "Regarding what?"
Leno leaned toward him slightly. "Regarding Cardana's position going forward."
A pause.
Reoloy's expression shifted. He visibly processed the words, then settled into certainty.
"Oh," he said. "You're worried I might interfere with your way of life."
The subtle flicker of exchanged glances around the room suggested that this was not the answer they had been expecting.
"That isn't… wrong," Gordoi said carefully. "For example, we would like to know what you would have us do with the space that was once Greater Cardana."
Reoloy nodded in understanding.
"I heard Nameless forbade you from expanding your territory, and that was why you didn't build further out into the forest," he said, addressing the room. "I don't particularly care. You can build as far as you'd like. I'm just using the interior facilities anyway."
Silence.
"So…" a female elder began slowly, glancing at her peers. "It is within your will for us to expand?"
Reoloy frowned.
The wording struck him as strange, but he reasoned that they were simply apprehensive, much like tenants speaking to a landlord.
"Yeah, sure. Put it like that if you'd like," he sighed.
Immediately, murmurs broke out among the elders.
Meanwhile, Leno, Gordoi, and Meyer exchanged a long, unreadable look.
After a moment, the elders all nodded, seemingly concluding their deliberation.
"We understand," the first elder said. "Is there anything else you would like to clarify regarding our arrangement?"
Once again, Reoloy frowned before slowly shaking his head.
"...No," he replied. "Not right now, at least."
And with that, the seats descended, and before long, everyone filed out of the chamber.
Catching sight of Lavere waiting just outside, Reoloy gave her instructions regarding the time they would depart for the castle before heading off in search of some much-needed rest.
A nagging feeling lingered at the back of his mind, but he was too preoccupied with what he considered far more pressing matters—the upcoming meeting with the royals.
"Lavere," Leno called, approaching her alongside her father and the militia captain.
The blonde immediately straightened upon seeing them, even more so after noticing the expressions on their faces.
---
- Anselt -
- The Castle -
In a section of the castle annexed specifically for the third prince, Cale and his sister, Wynn, sat within his personal study.
Cale rested by the window where the light was strongest, though even there it seemed reluctant to reach him fully. The faint pallor beneath his skin had long since become familiar enough to those around him that they no longer reacted to it.
More noticeable in the muted light, however, was his physique.
Despite being thirteen years old, Cale appeared more akin to an eight-or nine-year-old, though much more malnourished and weakened.
A servant quietly refilled his cup with medicinal tea without being asked. Another adjusted the curtains so the breeze would not touch him too harshly. No one spoke of it directly. They simply moved around the fact of his condition in the same way one might avoid disturbing something fragile yet cherished.
And yet nothing about him felt diminished.
Even like this, Cale smiled easily across from Wynn, his expression softening at her presence.
"You came back late yesterday," he said lightly, though there was no reprimand in it—only familiarity.
Wynn hesitated briefly before stepping forward and placing something on the table beside him: the finely bottled potion she had received, carefully sealed once more.
It was still mostly full, vividly glowing just as it had under the night sky.
"It's at least a high-grade healing potion," she said. "I didn't drink much of it. Just enough to confirm it worked."
Cale's gaze sharpened slightly, not with suspicion, but interest.
"Why would you need a healing potion?"
Wynn flinched, avoiding his gaze.
He hummed softly, then leaned slightly to the side to examine it more closely. A small cough slipped from him into his sleeve before he settled back again, as though even that brief movement had cost him more than it should have.
"That's… quite something," he murmured, faintly impressed. His tone carried none of the envy or desperation that others might have had in his position, only curiosity. "How effective was it?"
"It erased my injuries nearly instantly," Wynn replied, facing him again. "Even older wounds from some days ago."
A faint flash of tired interest crossed Cale's face. "That's unfairly convenient."
Despite the weakness in his voice, there was something warm in the way he said it, as if he were commenting on a well-made tool rather than something that could have easily changed his own condition.
At the edges of the room, several servants shifted subtly, their expressions tightening with restrained emotion. Cale simply raised a hand slightly to ease them.
"No need to look like that," he said gently. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"
The words were meant to lighten the air, but they seemingly did the opposite.
Wynn exhaled quietly and stood up from the low shelf she'd been sitting on.
"I met a boy," she began. "At the temple."
That alone made Cale's attention return fully to her.
"You...?" he said apprehensively. "I mean, you are at that age..."
"Not like that," Wynn shot down flatly.
The prince let out a weak laugh, shaking his head slightly before looking at her with gentle curiosity.
"So, he's the one who gave this to you?" he asked, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable. "Tell me about him."
Wynn hesitated, thinking back to the weird stranger, but seeing the look in Cale's eyes, she sighed.
'It's almost as if he's already decided.'
She described the encounter plainly at first—the timing and the strange certainty in his words. Then, as she continued, the details became harder to dismiss. The accuracy of what he had known. The way he had spoken about the poison as though he had already seen their situation from beginning to end. The potion he had given without hesitation. The calmness and bluntness in his tone despite his apparent age.
Cale listened without interrupting.
When she finished, the room remained still for a moment longer than usual.
"That's… interesting," Cale said at last, voice faint but thoughtful. His eyes lingered on the bottle again, then shifted upward slightly as though trying to connect unseen pieces. "A boy who knows that much, and can produce something like this…"
He coughed once, more sharply this time, and one of the servants immediately stepped forward, but he waved them off again with the same gentle ease as always.
"I'm fine," he reassured them automatically.
There was something different in his expression now. Not excitement in the loud sense, but a quiet spark of genuine intrigue that cut through even his weakness.
"I would like to meet him," Cale said softly. Then, after a brief pause, a faint, almost amused but appreciative smile formed. "Since you're telling me this, you must have set up a meeting already."
He laughed before breaking into a coughing fit.
Wynn watched him with a heavy gaze, but held resolute that this would all end soon.
"He's coming tonight," she said quietly. "Apparently, he'll handle entry into the castle himself."
Cale wiped his lips, shoulders relaxing slightly as if the words themselves eased something unseen.
"…I'm looking forward to it," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
And for the first time in a while, even through his visible exhaustion, the light in his eyes seemed more alive than ever.