Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Drayle villa, warm and gentle, completely unaware of how fast peace could end. I woke before the others—not because of habit this time, but because something felt off. The kind of pressure you feel before a storm breaks, when the air grows heavy and your chest tightens for no reason you can explain.
I dressed quickly and stepped into the hall.
Everyone else was already awake.
That alone was enough to set my nerves on edge.
We gathered in the main living room not long after, the wide space still carrying traces of last night's laughter—chairs slightly out of place, a faint scent of salt and citrus from dinner, sunlight reflecting off polished floors. It should've felt safe.
It didn't.
Instructor Aldred stood near the center of the room, arms folded behind his back. His posture was straight. Too straight. His expression wasn't stern in the usual way—it was controlled, like something was being held down under sheer discipline.
"Sit," he said.
Not asked. Told.
That did it.
The room shifted immediately. Jokes died before they could form. Kai stopped mid-stretch. Seraphyne straightened, pink hair falling still. Kazen's relaxed lean vanished as he took a seat properly. Varein's eyes sharpened. Aelira folded her hands in her lap. Theon planted his feet. Liam's usual ease faded. Liraeth adjusted her shield. Arion swallowed.
I sat too.
Aldred waited until everyone was quiet.
Then he exhaled once, slow and measured.
"We have news," he said.
The words landed heavier than they should have.
"General Izekel," Aldred continued, "has sent us a message."
The room went dead silent.
My spine stiffened instantly.
General Izekel.
The name alone carried weight—authority carved into every syllable. The highest-ranking military power in Lionhearth outside of the royal family. A man who didn't speak unless something mattered. A man whose attention you did not want unless absolutely necessary.
Liam blinked. "The… General?"
Kai let out a low whistle before catching himself. "For us?"
Varein's jaw tightened. "That's not good."
I didn't say anything.
I just had a bad feeling.
Aldred reached into his coat and placed a compact, metallic device on the table. It was circular, etched with runes that pulsed faintly blue—mana-reactive, high-grade. A magically engineered sonar transmission device.
My stomach sank.
I flinched internally.
I did tell Sir Zenite we were heading to Newoaga.
Everyone's eyes slid toward me.
I gave an awkward smile. "…So. Small chance this is my fault."
No one laughed.
Aldred adjusted a dial.
The device hummed, then projected light upward.
A figure formed.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Clad in a dark military coat trimmed with silver insignia. Short-cropped hair. Sharp eyes that looked like they could see through walls—and people.
General Izekel.
The room reacted instantly.
We stood.
Every one of us bowed deeply.
"It is an honor," we said together.
The General nodded once. "At ease."
We obeyed immediately.
His gaze swept over us—slow, deliberate. When it passed over me, I felt like I'd been weighed, measured, and cataloged in the span of a heartbeat.
"How is your summer break?" he asked calmly. "It has only been two weeks."
The question felt… strange. Casual, coming from someone like him.
"It's been good," Kazen said carefully. "We've been resting. And training."
The others nodded.
I added, "No incidents."
That was technically true.
The General hummed. "Good."
Then his expression shifted.
Not visibly—but the air changed.
"I have a task for you."
My shoulders tensed.
A task.
For us?
Sir Aldred's jaw tightened. Sweat beaded at his temple.
"We received intel from one of our Knight Captains," General Izekel continued.
I froze.
Yep. Definitely my fault.
"We have reason to believe," he said, "that a Saintess from Arcana has recently landed in Okrith. Her destination is Newoaga."
A Saintess?
I frowned slightly, keeping my mouth shut.
Aldred looked… worse.
He didn't hide it well. His shoulders stiffened, his eyes narrowing with concern. Whatever a Saintess was, it wasn't good news to have one wandering around during a monster outbreak.
"The Temple of Luminaran has sent us a letter," the General continued. "Its contents are restricted to Knight Captains and above."
That made my unease deepen.
"Normally," he went on, "we would never commission first-year students—especially not academy students—for a matter of this sensitivity."
The room felt smaller.
"However," he said, voice firm, "circumstances have forced our hand."
Monster outbreaks near the coast.
Delays in reinforcements.
Diplomatic tensions with Arcana.
The Leviacrests.
The sirens.
Pieces clicked together in my head.
Something wasn't right.
"And so," General Izekel said, eyes hard, "Class 1-S of the Lionhearth Academy—along with Instructor Aldred—will be tasked with guarding the Second Saintess of the Temple of Luminaran."
Silence.
Heavy. Crushing.
Guarding.
Not escorting. Not observing.
Guarding.
This wasn't ceremonial.
This was protection detail.
This was dangerous.
"This assignment," the General continued, "is critical. Relations with Arcana are already strained. Any incident—any mistake—will have consequences far beyond your understanding."
His gaze sharpened.
"I am trusting you with this."
The room felt like it was holding its breath.
"Do you understand?"
We nodded. Every single one of us.
"Yes, sir," we said.
"Good," he replied. "She is expected to arrive within the next few hours."
He paused.
"Eat. Rest. Prepare yourselves."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Aldred.
"Be at the Newoaga gates by three o'clock. And watch your students, Instructor."
Aldred bowed his head. "With my life."
The General gave a final nod.
"Good luck."
The projection vanished.
The device powered down.
And the room collapsed into noise.
Someone exhaled sharply. Someone else rubbed their face. Arion slumped back against the couch. Kai stared at the ceiling.
"…So that's what pressure feels like," Varein muttered.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah."
Aldred ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "What timing."
Then he looked at us—hard.
"All of you know what this means," he said. "If we mess this up…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
A chill ran down my spine.
Then I frowned.
"…So," I said carefully, breaking the tension, "What exactly is a Saintess?"
Every head turned toward me.
Blank stares.
Then synchronized facepalms.
"Oh right," Kai groaned. "You."
Aelira sighed and explained, patient as ever. "A Saintess is a divine representative of a major temple. Chosen. Empowered. Political and spiritual figures of immense importance."
She hesitated.
"The Second Saintess of the Temple of Luminara is named Saintess Lumiel of the Golden Sun."
I processed that slowly.
"…That sounds important," I said.
"It is," Liam replied dryly.
"And dangerous," Kazen added.
I exhaled.
"Alright," I said. "So we get ready?"
Aldred nodded grimly.
"Yes," he said. "You do."
I leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as the weight of it all settled in.
Summer break was basically over.
I looked at the clock, and it was ten o'clock.
And that meant,
Five hours.
That was how long we had until one of the most important figures from Arcana stepped foot into Newoaga—and somehow, we were the ones expected to greet her.
I stood near the staircase of the villa, adjusting the strap of my sheath, when everyone finally gathered downstairs.
Silence.
Not the tense kind.
The confused kind.
I felt it before anyone said anything—the weight of their stares crawling over me.
Kazen blinked once.
Then again.
"…That's it?" he asked.
I frowned. "What?"
Their eyes flicked over me—plain dark shirt, travel trousers, worn boots. Functional. Clean. But next to them?
I looked like I was about to mug the saintess instead of protect her.
Seraphyne leaned closer to Aelira and whispered, loudly, "He really does look like he's casing the place."
"He looks like he wants to rob me," Arion added, arms crossed.
Varein sighed, rubbing his face. "Oh man. This is already doomed."
I glanced down at myself. "…What?"
Kazen pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rain. We are about to meet one of the three Saintesses of Arcana."
"I know," I said. "That's why I'm standing here."
"That's why you're standing here like a criminal," Arion muttered.
"Do you seriously only own plain clothes?" Aelira asked, disbelief clear in her voice.
I hesitated. "…Yes."
Collective sigh.
Liraeth clicked her tongue and stepped forward, resting her shield against the wall. "We still have five hours. That's enough time to fix this."
Fix me, apparently.
"We can get proper attire," she continued. "Newoaga has elite tailors."
Seraphyne perked up instantly. "Shopping."
Kai nodded solemnly. "A necessary mission."
I raised a hand. "Wait. Important question."
They all looked at me.
"…Did anyone bring money?"
Every head turned slowly toward Kazen.
He froze.
Then sighed—deep, resigned, defeated. "I knew this day would come."
Relief washed through the group.
"Thank you," Liam said earnestly.
"My condolences," Theon added.
Kazen gestured weakly. "Let's just go before I change my mind."
Breakfast was… restrained.
Normally, the table would've been chaos—arguments, stolen food, Seraphyne trying to stab Kai with a fork.
Today?
Everyone ate lightly.
I stuck to a single steak, chewing slowly, mind elsewhere. The last thing I needed was vomiting in front of a saintess. Judging by the plates around me, everyone had the same thought.
Between bites, we talked formation.
Kazen and Varein would watch from range—eyes everywhere.
Sir Aldred front and center, with Liam, Kai, and Liraeth forming the immediate guard.
Arion, Theon, and Seraphyne in the rear.
Aelira and I in the middle.
Balanced. Clean. Efficient.
Once we finished, we moved.
Kazen led us through Newoaga's upper district—marble streets, sunlit banners, the air filled with salt and incense—until we reached a shop that looked more like a gallery than a tailor.
"This one," he said. "Best in the city."
Inside, my breath caught.
Not because of the luxury.
Because something pulled at me.
It was hanging slightly apart from the others.
Black. White. Silver aiguillettes draped cleanly over the shoulders. Elegant, but restrained. Authority without excess.
I stepped closer without realizing it.
"What's that called?" I asked.
The owner—a shorter man with sharp eyes—smiled faintly. "Not many wear it anymore," he said. "Everyone prefers gold these days."
He lifted it gently.
"A Royal Knight's Regalia."
I swallowed.
I liked it.
I liked it too much.
Kazen stepped beside me. "That one suits you."
I nodded instinctively—then froze. "W–What? No."
Heat crept to my ears.
He smiled. "Get it."
"…Are you sure?"
"Rain," he said calmly, "the Drayles will survive."
I hesitated only a second longer before nodding.
When I stepped out wearing it, the room went quiet.
I avoided the mirror at first.
Then I looked.
Black and white fabric fit cleanly against my frame. Silver aiguillettes caught the light. A fur-lined collar rested around my neck—warm, steady.
It didn't feel like a costume.
It felt… right.
"Whoa," Theon said. "You look—cool."
"Like," Arion corrected, "a real knight."
Seraphyne clapped. "Okay, rude. Why does he look that good?"
The owner stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he studied me. He reached out—hesitated—then pressed two fingers lightly against my chest.
The same place.
The white figure.
"You look just like him," he murmured.
"…Like who?" I asked.
He blinked, then waved it off. "Never mind."
He disappeared into the back.
When he returned, he carried a black half-cape.
"One of one," he said, fastening it over my left shoulder. "Belonged to someone important. It suits you now."
I didn't refuse.
When I looked again, something settled.
Seraphyne grinned. "We should match."
Kai's eyes lit up. "Like a unit."
"A secret unit," Liam added.
I shrugged. "If you want…"
They did.
The owner warned them—no capes, no fur collars. Those were mine alone.
Still, when we finished…
We looked like a squad.
Black and white. Silver aiguillettes. But the girls had skirts instead of pants. It felt like we had a purpose.
Sir Aldred remained in his instructor's coat, arms crossed, faintly amused.
Arion laughed. "It's like Rain's our captain."
Kai nodded enthusiastically. "It fits."
I muttered, "Shut up."
Sir Aldred clapped once. "Two hours. Move."
I stepped forward instinctively. "Let's go."
The cringe hit immediately.
"Show-off," Varein said.
Kazen paid.
We left.
And as the doors closed behind us, I felt it settle—not pride.
Responsibility.