Unveils
Three weeks felt both like an eternity and a fleeting moment. For Asep, the days blurred into a predictable cycle of training drills, town patrols, and evenings spent either at the *Water Lilies' Embrace* or bickering with Treste over her increasingly ambitious—and occasionally explosive—alchemical experiments. He'd settled into a comfortable groove, the life of a mercenary suiting him better than he'd expected. But beneath the surface of Loriana's deceptively peaceful routine, a current of anticipation was building. Everyone knew the peace talks in Silvercreek were looming. Everyone knew that the fate of the kingdom was hanging in the balance.
The day finally arrived, not with the crash of thunder and the clash of steel, but with the quiet dignity of a royal entourage. Princess Adreana returned to Loriana, this time not as a disguised refugee, but as the sovereign she was born to be. She met Zachary in his office, the chamber now transformed into a war council room. Sylvanne and Stark were present, as were the senior members of the Castalia Company. Adreana, dressed in a striking ensemble of scarlet and royal blue, her blonde hair braided with threads of gold, exuded a regal calm that quieted the room. She carried herself not with the arrogance of power, but with the sober gravity of one who intimately understood its weight.
"My brother's forces—the Royal Army along with elements of the Black Thorns—are already marching towards Silvercreek," she began, her clear and steady voice filling the room. Her gaze swept over the gathered mercenaries, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "They will serve as Ardenia's official delegation. The Castalia Company, under Commander Zachary's leadership, will march alongside them. You will be our kingdom's vanguard and its shield. To the world, this is a show of force, a declaration that we will not bow to Albion's intimidation."
Zachary nodded. "We are honored, Your Highness. We will fulfill our duty to the kingdom."
"I have no doubt," Adreana replied, a faint smile touching her lips. But then her expression grew more serious. "However... that is only half of the plan. The main contingent will draw Lord William's attention. He will be watching my brother, watching you. He will be expecting a conventional confrontation." She walked over to the large map spread across the central table, her gloved finger tracing a winding, treacherous path through the rugged, snow-capped peaks of the northern mountains. "While all eyes are on the main force, I will be taking a different route. A shortcut through the mountains. It is a dangerous path, but it will allow me to reach Silvercreek unseen."
Stark's brow furrowed. "Your Highness, if I may... traversing the northern range is perilous even for experienced mountaineers. To do so with only a small guard..."
"Which is precisely why it is the perfect route," Adreana interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "No one will expect it. My goal is to reach my lady-in-waiting, Brenda, before the peace talks begin. Lord William intends to present her, claiming she is proof that I am his captive—that my brother's regency is illegitimate and that Albion is merely acting to 'stabilize' the region and bring 'peace and freedom' to our land. But I will not allow my friend to be used as a political pawn." Her voice was laced with a cold, hard resolve. "I will infiltrate the manor where she is being held. Then I will take her place. When Lord William calls for his 'proof,' it will be me who walks out. Not a captive, but a sovereign. In that moment, his lies will unravel before the eyes of every delegation present. The truth will be our weapon."
A ripple of stunned silence passed through the room. It was an audacious plan, a high-stakes gamble that relied on stealth, precision, and an almost reckless amount of courage.
Sylvanne let out a low whistle. "Damn, Princess. You've got guts."
"To do this," Adreana continued, her gaze now fixed on Zachary, "I will need a small team to accompany me. A handful of your best. People who are skilled, resourceful, and, above all, trustworthy. I trust your judgment in selecting them, Commander." She paused, letting the weight of her request settle in. "I have already made arrangements. I have... a contact within the Avalon Knight Order. She will ensure a path is cleared for us once we are inside the manor. The infiltration itself will not be a problem. The true challenge is getting there."
Zachary closed his eyes, processing the enormity of the plan. It was incredibly risky. If she were captured, the entire kingdom would fall. But if it succeeded, it could turn the tide, expose Albion's treachery, and rally the fractured noble houses to their cause. It was a gambit worthy of a queen.
"... I see, Your Highness," Zachary said as he opened his eyes. "So, you'll be the ace card. And a huge gamble at the same time."
"Indeed. That's why I need your help, Zachary."
Zachary nodded. "I have just the people for the job, Your Highness."
---
Later, in the *Water Lilies' Embrace* tavern, Asep was leaning back in his chair, rolling a handful of tobacco into nypa leaves—well, not exactly nypa, but a locally grown plant more akin to fern—rolling it just thick enough to make it similar to his index finger in diameter. He then lit the end of his self-made 'cigarette' and took a long, satisfying drag.
"There you are." Stark's voice cut through his moment of bliss. "I thought you'd be holed up somewhere. We've got a mission."
"Hah... You guys are lucky I'm not with that little witch in her lab," Asep replied, exhaling a plume of fragrant smoke. "So, what's up? More rogue sorcerers? A griffin infestation? I heard Clara saw one the other day."
Stark pulled up a chair and sat down. "Actually, our squad will be escorting someone important."
"Someone important? The princess?" Asep asked.
"Yeah. The princess. Zachary requested our squad to be her escort through the northern mountains."
"Hmm... Mountains, huh? It's been a long time since I've hiked," Asep said. "So, the mission is just to escort her until we reach Silvercreek? Very well then, I'm in."
"It's settled then," Stark said, a hint of relief in his voice. "Let's get Karl and Bob. We're leaving tomorrow at dawn."
---
"Eehh? You're going too?" Treste's voice was a high-pitched squeak of indignation. She stood in the doorway of her bakery-turned-laboratory, her arms crossed and a pout that could curdle milk firmly in place. Her pointed hat was slightly askew. "But... but who's going to help me calibrate the Phlogiston Condenser? And test the resonance frequencies of the new Lumite batch? And... and reach the things on the high shelves?!"
"That's why I'm telling you now... Anyway, where is the 'portable heater' we made last week? I need to bring it with me," Asep replied, unfazed by her outburst. He was already busy stuffing a few essentials into a worn leather satchel; a waterskin, some dried rations, and most importantly, his precious, dwindling supply of nypa leaves and tobacco. "You're a 'Great Sorceress,' aren't you? Figure it out. Levitate something. Or better yet, build yourself a stepping stool. It's called 'applied engineering.' You should try it sometime."
"Hmph! Insolent brute!" Treste huffed, though there was no real heat behind the words. "It's not my fault you're an abnormally tall specimen! And this is important work! My research could revolutionize the principles of domestic comfort! Imagine... a world without cold tea!"
"A noble cause, I'm sure," Asep said dryly, slinging the satchel over his shoulder. He then strapped the small, coppery device they had cobbled together to his belt. It looked like a miniature boiler, with a small Lumite crystal at its core. "But saving a kingdom from a diplomatic incident that might lead to a full-blown war, which would definitely lead to the complete and utter collapse of the international tobacco trade, takes a slight precedence. Priorities, kid."
Treste just grumbled, kicking at the floorboards. Her gaze, however, was fixed on the small heating device hanging from his belt. "You'd better bring my prototype back in one piece, you hear me? The crystalline matrix is keyed to a very specific thermal harmonic! If you drop it, the whole thing could go into resonant cascade!"
"Uh-huh. 'Resonant cascade.' Got it," Asep said, already halfway out the door. "Means 'big boom,' right? Don't worry, I'll be careful. Try not to blow up the neighborhood while I'm gone. Or turn anyone into a newt for real. Sylvanne would have a fit if she had to deal with that paperwork." He gave her a final, lazy wave before stepping out into the pre-dawn air.
The rest of the squad was already waiting in the town square, their forms little more than dark silhouettes against the first pearly grey light of morning. Stark, Karl, and Bob were there, their gear checked and ready, their faces set with a professional solemnity. And with them was the princess. Adreana was dressed for the journey. She wore sturdy leather boots and a fur-lined traveling cloak with a deep hood that obscured her features. Her regal bearing was still there, but it was muted, concealed beneath the practical attire.
"Everyone's here," Stark said, his voice low in the quiet square. "We need to move before the town fully awakens. The main contingent under Zachary's command will be making a very public departure in an hour. We need to be well clear of Loriana by then, heading in the opposite direction."
"So, what is the plan?" Asep asked as he approached.
"Straight to the north. Hank is already up ahead, scouting the mountain pass," Princess Adreana said, joining the conversation. "Once we reach the foothills, the real journey begins. The path is treacherous and rarely used. But it will lead us to the outskirts of Silvercreek in under three days, if we keep a steady pace."
"And once we get there, Your Highness?" Bob asked, his hand instinctively resting on the stock of his crossbow.
"My contact within the Avalon Knights is Paladin Lady Orwella," she said. "She's one of the few who still uphold the old chivalric codes. She knows Lord William's ambition oversteps the bounds of honor. She'll provide us with a window of opportunity, a moment when the guards around Brenda's holding are pulled away. That's when we'll make our move. Until then, our only enemy is the mountain itself."
Their small band of five—an unlikely mix of hardened mercenaries and a determined princess—finally set off without another word.
---
Meanwhile, at the headquarters, Zachary was standing on the second-floor balcony, watching as the main contingent of Castalia mercenaries and the Royal Army forces assembled in the main courtyard, ready to march to Silvercreek. His expression was a mask of stoicism, but his knuckles were white where he gripped the cold stone railing. Sylvanne stood beside him, her usual boisterous energy replaced by a quiet, focused intensity. She was already clad in her full battle gear, her massive cleaver looking even more intimidating in the harsh morning light.
"They're off," Sylvanne said. "Think they'll be alright? That princess is taking one hell of a risk."
"She knows the stakes," Zachary replied, his gaze still fixed on the departing procession, his eyes following the small, hooded figure of the princess until she disappeared from view. "In war, sometimes the greatest risk yields the greatest reward. Stark will protect her. He's the most reliable man I know."
"Yeah, Starky's a boy scout like that," Sylvanne grunted, though there was a clear undercurrent of respect in her tone. "But that Asep guy... You sure about sending him along? We still don't know a damn thing about him, other than the fact that he fights and is obsessed with tobacco." She shifted her weight. "And what about you? Are you really letting those refugees join the fight? You know what they say about child soldiers, right?"
"Adeline's volunteers are no longer children, Sylvanne. Most of them lost their parents and children in Merlesia. They have more than enough reason to fight. The least I can do is make sure they're not just cannon fodder," Zachary said. Then he turned his gaze to her. "As for Asep... Just hope he will stick with us as long as the cigarette supply exists. Well, at least it kind of relieves me that he's not entirely driven by money. It's much easier to deal with a man who has principles, however strange they might be."
"Hah! Strange is one word for it," Sylvanne chuckled, the sound a bit sharper than usual. "Guess we'll just have to trust Stark's gut. And hope that Asep's craving for a good smoke is strong enough to keep him on the right side of this mess." She stretched up, her arms reaching for the sky. "Well, no use standing here and worrying. I've got a contingent to lead and a bunch of green-horned Royal Army boys to whip into shape. Try not to miss me too much, boss." She gave him a mock salute before turning and striding away, her heavy boots echoing on the stone floor.
Zachary remained on the balcony for a long time after she had gone, a solitary figure watching over his town. He watched as the last of the combined forces marched out of the gates, their banners snapping in the morning breeze, a river of steel and determination flowing out to meet an uncertain future. His expression remained unreadable, but a single, unspoken prayer formed in the quiet depths of his mind. *Adreana... may the fortunes of war favor the bold.*
After that, he found himself walking to the old bakery-turned-laboratory of his newest 'guest'—or rather, his newest pain in the neck. The small sorceress had a knack for creating minor, and sometimes not-so-minor, magical mishaps, and he felt a certain responsibility to ensure his town was still standing by the end of the week.
"Miss Treste? Are you in here?" he called out.
After a moment of silence, there was a loud *clang* followed by a yelp.
"Ouch! I'm here! Oof, can you help me??"
Zachary let out a soft, weary sigh before pushing the door open. He was greeted by the sight of Treste pinned to the floor by a fallen bookshelf, a cascade of heavy tomes and assorted alchemical ingredients scattered around her. She was wriggling ineffectually, her pointed hat knocked sideways, a look of utter humiliation on her face.
"What are you doing? Why didn't you use a ladder or something?"
"I... I was trying to reach *The Comprehensive Compendium of Thaumaturgical Resonance*!" she explained, her voice muffled by a particularly large, leather-bound volume resting on her chest. "But the shelf was... wobbly! And because Asep just left this morning and Sylvanne also just left, I have no one to help me reach it. So I tried to do it myself..."
He stared down at her for a few moments before helping her out of the mess.
"... Well, thank you, Mr. Zachary. Now you're officially on my 'Treste's Trusted Friend' list," Treste said with a cheeky smile.
"I'd rather not," Zachary said, dusting off his pristine uniform.
"Wha~at?!"
"First of all, what were you trying to do, Treste? It's not been a whole day and you're already making a mess of your lab," he said with a sigh. "I wonder what would happen if I left you here for much longer."
Treste just pouted. "I did this for the future of mankind!" she declared grandly.
"Oh, really? I thought you were doing this for your personal comfort."
"B-both... I mean, who doesn't want to live in a warm house during winter?" she said. "Besides, I think if I can make it real, it will be very profitable. And if so, I can make a lot of money to fund my research! What a genius I am!" Her eyes sparkled with the light of inspiration. "And with my newest prototype, I believe I can make a better version of the 'portable heater' I made with Asep!"
"Portable heater? What's that?" Zachary asked, genuinely curious now. "Don't tell me you just... invented something?"
"W-well... It's all Asep's idea!" She gestured wildly, like a child afraid of being caught in the act. "He said that with Lumite, we can trap heat from a flame spell... and then release it in a controlled manner... It's all his idea! I just helped him with the theory and the enchanting! That's all!"
Zachary's eyes widened slightly. *Asep again? There's no way a mere peat cutter could have such an idea. No, wait. If he could think that way, isn't the idea itself rather... revolutionary?* The military applications alone were staggering. Portable, reusable heat sources for soldiers in the field... it could change the face of winter warfare. And the civilian applications like heating homes, cooking food, powering workshops... it could fundamentally reshape Ardenian society.
"... Tell me more about this. And what kind of ideas did Asep have when you discussed this?"
"Huhuhuu~ So you're interested too, right?!" Her mood swung back to its usual smug pride in an instant. "Very well! Although this is just a prototype and needs more research and funds, he laid out the drawings. Take a look at this..." She rummaged through a pile of scrolls and parchments on a nearby table, finally pulling one out with a triumphant flourish. She unrolled it, revealing a series of complex diagrams and equations that, to Zachary's untrained eye, looked like a chaotic mess of lines and strange symbols.
"What is this?" Zachary pointed at one of the drawings.
"Uh... It's 'P...Pun-k OG'? I don't really know what that is, but it's not the important part." She continued, her finger tracing a path through the chaotic drawings between a tube-like thing and something that suspiciously resembled male genitalia.
"So, you see? Asep explained that the trapped heat and pressure from the spell could be used for *moving* things. He said the principle is similar to boiling water and using the resulting steam to power a piston... but with Lumite, we eliminate the need for water. By channeling the heat through a series of containment runes and focusing lenses, we can create a sustainable, high-pressure system. Asep called it a 'combustion engine.'"
Zachary stared at the diagrams. He knew of the rudimentary steam engines used in some Albion-made contraptions that Ardenia imported, such as the steam pumps by the Mining Friend company of Caledon. But 'Combustion Engine'? That was a new word to him.
"This is..." Zachary said in a low voice. "This is beyond anything I've ever seen. Anything else?"
"Uuuhh... Yes! Wait a minute..." Treste rummaged through her belongings again, this time pulling out a much more refined drawing. It showed a series of diagrams depicting a mechanism of rotating pistons. "He called it a 'Hydraulic Motor' or something along those lines. He explained that by using pressurized liquid channeled through some sort of tubes, we can create a powerful force multiplier. A simple lever and-and-and he said it could lift objects a hundred times their own weight! I-I still don't understand the principle of it... but his drawings are very logical from an engineering point of view! He even pointed out that this thing can be used in many other things, like a forging hammer. And..." She took a deep breath, her eyes shining with an almost manic glee. "He mentioned to me... that by combining the Combustion Engine with some gears and the Hydraulic Motor, we can craft a 'self-propelled chariot'!"
"Self-propelled... chariot..." Zachary repeated the words, his mind struggling to grasp the sheer, paradigm-shifting magnitude of what he was hearing. "So... a horseless carriage that moves... with Lumite?"
"Y-yes! That's what he said! I mean, I know that 'Golemancy' exists in the Grand Sanctuary, but it requires a huge amount of Lumite. With his idea... it's possible to mass-produce it at half the price a golem costs!"
Zachary felt a shiver run down his spine. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time—the dizzying, terrifying thrill of standing on the precipice of a new era. "Wait a minute... What year is this?"
"Year? It's Year 998 of the Radiant Calendar. What's wrong?" Treste asked in confusion.
*As I thought. We're at the end of a millennium.* There was a prophecy, an old one from the age of sages of Ancient Ardenia: When the thousandth year ends, the world will see changes—a great turmoil that will bring salvation to mankind and usher in an age of prosperity. *Is this what the prophecy meant?*
"... If we can realize even a fraction of these concepts..." he muttered, "The balance of power... not just in Ardenia, but the entire continent... it would be shattered. This... this will change everything."
He looked at Treste, no longer seeing a troublesome child, but a key—a vital, unpredictable, and incredibly valuable key. And Asep... Asep was the locksmith, the mysterious figure who held the knowledge to turn that key.
"Tre— Miss Treste," he began, his voice taking on a new, urgent intensity. "Your research... I will personally fund it. You will have access to the Guild's resources, our best craftsmen, all the Lumite you require. But your work must remain an absolute secret. No one, outside of myself and you, is to know the true nature of what you are building here. Do you understand?"
Treste blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden, overwhelming offer. "F-fund? You'll... you'll really fund all of this?"
"I will." Zachary's gaze was like granite. "In return, the Castalia Company—and by extension, the Kingdom of Ardenia—will have exclusive rights to any practical applications that result from your research. This is no longer merely a matter of academic curiosity, Miss Treste. This is a matter of national security. We are on the verge of a great leap in civilization, and I intend to ensure that Ardenia is the one that takes that leap, not our enemies."
*I've finally found it... What I've been searching for. The path that will lead the kingdom to the future!* Zachary thought. *No, not just the kingdom. But the continent... and the world!*
"I-I... I understand, Commander Zachary!" Treste stammered, her earlier flippancy completely gone, replaced by the dawning realization of the incredible, terrifying opportunity that had just been dropped into her lap. "I... I will do my best!"
Zachary nodded, a grim, determined smile touching his lips for the first time that day. He turned and walked to the door, a hundred new plans and strategies already beginning to form in his mind. "Then get to work, Miss Treste," he said, pausing at the threshold. "The future is waiting. And we will be the first to see it."
---