A few minutes earlier, Kaito's group had stepped into the grand entrance of Balmount Castle.
The sheer scale of the place seemed to swallow them whole. The floors stretched endlessly, reflecting the glow of hanging chandeliers. The walls were carved with golden inscriptions of ancient paintings, and above them, murals of long-forgotten wars gazed down in silence.
Nina stopped first, her lips parting in wonder. "Wow," she whispered, her eyes darting across every detail. "It looks… amazing."
"Of course it does," Mael said quickly, puffing out his chest as if he had built the castle himself. "It's Balmount Castle, after all."
"Quiet," Mira cut in, her voice sharp but low, slicing through their awe. "Not a sound."
Both Nina and Mael froze. Nina lowered her head, cheeks burning. "I… I'm sorry," she murmured.
Mira's gaze softened for a moment, and she gave Nina a faint, reassuring smile. The girl's face lit up instantly, as though that small kindness was enough to chase away her nerves.
"We will soon be close to the Queen, and my lady," Kaito said flatly as he began to ascend the grand staircase, his hands resting behind his back. His voice, calm but absolute, cut away the moment of levity.
Mira followed at his side, her eyes scanning the towering archways and dim corridors. Something about the stillness pressed against her chest. "Mr. Kaito," she asked quietly, "is the inside of the castle always this quiet?"
"Mostly," he replied without looking at her. His sharp eyes drifted across the shadows as though they could pierce the walls themselves. "But not this quiet."
Astrid lingered a step behind, her gaze drifting over every carved pillar, every grand painting. So this is what Balmount Castle looks like. You lied about the inside, Daddy.
The group's footsteps echoed across the endless floor, a hollow rhythm that grew heavier with each step. The silence was suffocating, the kind that made the air feel thick. Then, from somewhere ahead, the sound shattered.
A crack. The sharp slap of flesh meeting flesh.
The sound echoed down the hall like a whip. Mael's face drained of color. "Should we… should we be worried?"
Mira turned toward him, ready to speak, but Kaito's voice cut in first. "No." His tone was soft, almost a whisper, yet chilling in its certainty. "We shouldn't."
The words silenced them all. Even Mira found her lips pressed shut, unsettled by how calmly he had said it.
They pressed on, the silence no longer empty but filled with a suffocating weight. Chains rattled faintly in the distance, their metallic clatter mixing with hushed voices. Each sound drew them forward like a snare closing in.
Then, a voice. Smooth, low, dripping with cruel amusement. "Ah… it seems more must be captured."
The corridor widened abruptly, spilling them into another hall.
There, waiting as though the scene had been staged, stood the High Chancellor, Dorian, flanked by seven robed men. The air around them pulsed with restrained power. And held within their grasp, bound in chains, were Morganya, the Countess, Rosette, and Angelo.
The sight froze the group in place. The High Chancellor's jaw tightened the moment his eyes met the Countess. For an instant, his carefully measured composure cracked, and in his gaze burned raw betrayal and fury.
His mouth opened, words forming on his lips—
—but Mira was already moving. Her eyes hardened, her hand twitching toward her blade.
"Takashi," she said, her voice low, sharp, commanding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Takashi's expression emptied, every trace of hesitation wiped away. His body stilled, yet the world itself seemed to bend around him. In the span of a heartbeat, he moved. To the onlookers, it was as if he had never taken a step—one moment he stood still, the next he was upon his enemies. Faster than the blink of an eye. Faster than thought.
The High Chancellor flinched, certain Takashi would come for him, but the boy slipped past without sparing him a glance. His intent was already clear.
The robed man holding Morganna had only enough time to register a blur before Takashi's fist crashed into his chest. The impact was like a hammer striking stone. Bone shattered, air exploded from his lungs, and his body was lifted clear off the ground, hurled back into the wall. The sickening crack of breaking ribs echoed before his crumpled form slid lifeless to the floor.
The second robed man—the one restraining the Countess—moved with desperate precision, his hand flaring with the start of a spell. But Takashi's eyes narrowed, and in that instant, he had already seen the man's intent. He was already there.
His own hand shot forward, intercepting the strike. Instead of forcing back, Takashi turned the man's force against him, pivoting his stance with fluid grace. The movement drew his katana free in one smooth whisper of steel. He did not hack or swing wildly—he let the blade's momentum carry itself. The strike was clean, surgical. A single slash.
The man's scream split the air as his severed hand, fell to the floor. Blood splattered, hot and wild, across the stone.
Morganna, breath caught in her throat, called out. "Boy… the chains!"
But Takashi was already in motion. His eyes burned with clarity, reading the future intent of those who held them captive. His blade became a streak of silver in the torchlight. With a blur of slashes, the shackles fell one by one, the heavy chains clattering to the ground at Morganna's feet, then the Countess's, then Angelo's, as Takashi killed his captor in the process. Freedom came like thunder rolling across the hall.
And in that breath of chaos, Dorian made his move. Seizing Rosette from one of the robed men, he dragged her forward, pressing a dagger toward her throat. His lips curled in desperation.
But Morganna was already upon him. Fury, sharp and consuming, blazed in her eyes. Her hand shot out, striking his wrist with bone-breaking force. The dagger clattered uselessly to the ground. Before Dorian could gasp, her palm drove upward into his throat, pinning him brutally against the wall.
A wet crunch followed. Blood smeared across the stone as his head snapped back. Dorian's mouth opened in broken pleas, terror flashing in his gaze. "My Queen… please! Please!"
"You should not have touched my maid," Morganna whispered, her voice like ice.
Her hand ignited with a soft, ethereal glow, light that was warm yet merciless. With one final strike, she slammed her palm into his skull. The sound was sickening, the wall cracking faintly with the force. Dorian went limp, his skull collapsing under the blow, and slid to the ground like a discarded husk.
Rosette's leg felt weak as she fell to the ground, her chest heaving as she stared at her Queen. Awe and fear clashed violently in her eyes. Her gaze dropped to the glow still lingering in Morganna's hand. My lady...
The High Chancellor's eyes went wide, his thoughts unraveling in panic. How? One boy… in how many seconds? My entire plan… falling apart before me.
"Protect me!" he screamed, spittle flying from his lips.
The robed man who had been holding Rosette staggered forward, but Astrid's cord flashed before him, a streak of silvery-white weaving through the air. The Moonbind lashed tight around his torso, dragging him back toward her with ruthless force.
Mael stepped in, his sword already bare. With one decisive strike, he cut clean through the man's chest. The body collapsed before it could even scream.
Nina, silent until now, moved like a storm unleashed. Her blade flashed as she dove between the last three robed men. Their eyes widened, spells forming at their fingertips, but Takashi's gift echoed in her movements—her anticipation sharpened by training beside him. Her strikes came swift and sure. A twirl of grace, a flicker of steel—then blood sprayed the walls as all three men fell, their throats split wide. They collapsed with a sickening thump, lifeless before they touched the ground.
The hall fell into chaos and silence all at once.
The High Chancellor, trembling, tried to flee. But Mira was already there. One step was all it took for her to appear before him, her presence filling the corridor like an unyielding wall.
Her fist struck. A clean, brutal punch that sent him skidding across the floor, his body bouncing before he sprawled on his back. Groaning, gasping, he forced his eyes open searching desperately for the robed man Takashi had first struck down.
But the space where the body should have been was empty.
Gone.
As if the man had never existed at all.
Takashi stood in the center of the wreckage, his chest rising and falling steadily. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the crackle of fading mana. He flicked his wrist, scattering crimson droplets from the edge of his katana. With deliberate calm, he guided the blade back into its sheath. The faint click echoed across the chamber like a final verdict.
Mael exhaled slowly, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles.
Morganna knelt beside Rosette, who was still trembling from the violence. Morganna's voice softened, warm but commanding. "Are you all right, Rosette?"
Rosette blinked rapidly, her eyes wide, still drinking in the sight of her queen. Her lips trembled before she found her voice. "Yes, my lady," she whispered, though awe shone more strongly than fear.
From the ground, the High Chancellor shifted, forcing himself upright against the pain that wracked his body. His face twisted into a snarl. "You all… this is not the end of it." His words dripped venom, but the edge of desperation clung to them.
Astrid let out a weary sigh, the glow of her Moonbind Cord fading as the weapon recoiled neatly to her side. Mael sheathed his blade with a practiced motion, his eyes never leaving the fallen Chancellor.
"From the way it looks," the Countess said, stepping forward with measured elegance, "it is." Her chin lifted, her voice holding both relief and scorn. Angelo moved protectively to her side, his presence steady, and Mael instinctively yielded the space to him.
The High Chancellor's glare burned at the Countess, but he turned his face aside, feigning indifference.
Morganna rose to her full height, her gaze cold and unwavering. "Chancellor," she said, her tone carrying the weight of command. "I prefer… if you don't speak anymore."
The words cut deeper than steel. The man fell silent, his jaw tightening though his eyes still simmered with rage.
Morganna's attention shifted. Her eyes softened slightly as they found Mira. "You must be Mira."
Mira bowed low, her movements filled with respect. When she lifted her head, her gaze held both reverence and steel. "Greetings, Queen Morganna."
A small chuckle escaped Morganna's lips, warm but edged with weariness. "Drop the title. It is always good to see a Paladin Knight, especially one who took my place."
"I am deeply honored by your grace," Mira replied, bowing again, her voice thick with sincerity.
At the Countess's side, Kaito stepped forward and inclined his head. "My lady."
Astrid had drifted closer to Takashi, her shoulder brushing lightly against his. With a playful nudge of her elbow, she whispered, "You did a good job." A small smile tugged at her lips, but her voice carried quiet pride.
Takashi lowered his eyes, a sheepish sigh escaping him, as if uncomfortable with the praise.
The Countess turned toward Kaito, her expression poised. "You did a good job," she said, her tone measured but not without warmth.
"Anything to make my lady's work easier," Kaito answered immediately, his voice steady.
"Yes," the Countess said, her lips curling into a smile that never quite reached her eyes. "But you did come awfully late."
Kaito bowed his head slightly. "I apologize." His voice was respectful, but when his gaze flicked toward Angelo, something unspoken passed between them. A flicker of tension, sharp and fleeting. Angelo met his eyes evenly, the weight of unspoken understanding binding them in silence.
The Countess, too focused on her own words, noticed nothing. She clasped her hands lightly. "My lady, what now?"
Morganna lifted her hand, her brow furrowed as she brushed her fingers against her ring. Her eyes narrowed. "I would say wait, but it seems my ring's transmission is not reaching Thorn's own." Her voice was troubled. With a sharp motion, she slipped the ring from her finger and placed it into Rosette's palm. "Hold on to this."
Rosette nodded quickly, closing her hand around the ring with care.
From the floor, the High Chancellor chuckled, the sound low and cruel.
The Countess's eyes narrowed at him. "That's strange," she said, suspicion lacing her tone.
Morganna turned her gaze back on him, her voice dropping into a chilling calm. "Chancellor… if you already know why the transmission isn't reaching my husband, speak now."
His eyes gleamed with defiance, even as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "I would rather die than talk."
Mira exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with frustration. Without hesitation, she seized a fistful of the High Chancellor's hair and yanked him upward as if he weighed nothing. He barely managed a gasp before she slammed her boot down on his leg.
A sickening crunch echoed through the floor hall.
The Chancellor screamed, his body convulsing in agony as his leg twisted at a grotesque angle. His cry rattled against the walls, sharp and desperate.
"Talk," Mira demanded, her voice low and edged with steel. Every syllable carried the promise of more pain. Meanwhile, Nina sheathed her weapon, a smile playing on her lips.
Tears of terror welled in his eyes. "It's Zephyr!" he shrieked, his words tumbling out in a panicked rush.
Mira's grip tightened, fury flashing across her face. She raised her hand, ready to do far worse, but Morganna's voice cut through the moment with commanding clarity.
"Please, Mira," Morganna said, calm but firm, her tone laced with an unyielding authority. "Whatever grudge you carry against this Zephyr, do not take it out on the High Chancellor… not yet."
Her gaze sharpened on the broken man at Mira's feet. "Now, Chancellor. What did this Zephyr do?"
The man's body shook as he tried to speak through the pain. "From what I know," he stammered, "the plan… was to isolate the whole kingdom… from the outside world."
The Countess narrowed her eyes, her sharp mind immediately threading the pieces together. "Ah…" she murmured, a dangerous light flickering in her expression. "A very good plan." Her tone carried reluctant admiration, though it chilled the air around her.
Morganna's mind raced. Isolation… then Thorn won't be able to get my transmission. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned toward Rosette and the Countess.
"Rosette," she ordered, her voice unflinching, "you and the Countess will go to where the children are. You will both be safe there."
The Countess's head snapped toward her, her voice sharp with both fear and defiance. "No, my lady. The Ki…"
"My husband will not mind," Morganna said, cutting across her words, her tone final and unyielding.
The Countess opened her mouth to argue further, desperation etched across her face, but Morganna's gaze did not waver. Rosette's wide eyes darted between them, clutching the Queen's ring as if it were her only anchor.
Mira, seizing the pause, yanked the Chancellor's head back by his hair, her voice dropping into a snarl. "Where is Zephyr?"
The Chancellor's eyes widened, raw fear spilling from them. "I… I don't know!" he whimpered, trembling like a cornered animal. "I don't know where Zephyr is!"
Morganna, her expression as unreadable as stone, finally gave Mira a small nod. "Mira. Let him go."
Mira's fingers released him with visible reluctance. The Chancellor collapsed to the ground in a pathetic heap, whimpering as pain wracked his body.
Without hesitation, Morganna tore a strip of fabric from the hem of her dress. She knelt gracefully beside him, the gesture at once merciful and unnerving. "Chancellor," she said softly, her tone cold enough to still his trembling. "It seems you will be coming with me."
Her hands moved quickly, wrapping the cloth around his shattered leg. It was no act of kindness, merely a practical measure to keep him alive.
She rose, her gaze cutting toward Mira. "Mira, you and your subordinates will come with me. We must find this Zephyr… and end whatever scheme the convenant has set into motion."
Mira inclined her head, her voice steady, though her eyes burned with resolve. "Very well, Lady Morganna. But what of the transmission to the King?"
Morganna turned to Rosette, her tone softening just slightly. "Rosette will keep trying. You know how the ring works, do you not, Rosette?"
Rosette nodded quickly, her grip tightening around the precious band. Her voice wavered but carried hope. "Yes, my lady."
Morganna smiled, but it was not warmth that touched her lips. It was a cold, controlled curve, as if to steady the hearts around her. "Alright. That's that."
A ragged sound rose from the floor. The High Chancellor let out a cruel, broken laugh, the kind that scraped against the air like rusted metal. His voice, hoarse but venomous, carried through the hall.
"Morganna… if you think this little gathering of strays can stop what is coming… then you are gravely mistaken."
The queen's smile vanished, her eyes narrowing. "Hmm?"
The Countess's gaze sharpened, her voice silk-wrapped steel. "And why do you say so, Chancellor?"
He lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes. Even through the mask of pain, triumph gleamed there. "Because of the inhuman thing that walks among the covenant," he rasped, his certainty chilling.
Morganna's mind sparked with unease. Inhuman thing? Does he mean an unnatural being? Is that what Thorn spoke about? Her voice was calm, but edged with curiosity. "Are you saying this creature is not of natural flesh?"
His lips twisted into a bloody sneer. "Flesh or unnatural as it may be… it will kill every last soul in this hall."
The Countess paled, fear flashing openly across her features. She turned to Morganna, her tone suddenly urgent, almost pleading. "My lady… I advise again, come with me. Do not take this lightly."
Before Morganna could answer, Mira's voice cut through like a blade. Firm, resolute, dismissing the weight of the words. "Unnatural or not, I have dealt with monsters before. This will be no different."
The Chancellor let out a laugh that was half a cough, half a mockery. His eyes settled on her with twisted pity. "I do not care what you claim. Even if your entire order of Paladin Knights stood at your side, they would fall. You cannot even touch him."
The words hung in the air like poison. For a moment, the hall seemed colder.
"Enough," Morganna said finally, turning her back on him with regal finality. "You will still be coming with me." She began to walk, her stride purposeful.
Mira turned to Mael. "Mael, you can handle him."
Mael's grin widened, sharp and wolfish. Without hesitation, he seized the Chancellor by his good leg and began dragging him across the floor, the man's muffled groans following behind them.
As the group moved forward, Astrid drew closer to Mira . Her voice dropped low, barely above a whisper. "Captain… what about the slaves?"
Mira's expression hardened, her mind flashing back to the slaves. She nodded once, decisive. "You and Takashi will move together. Once we reach them, we split. Understood?"
Astrid gave a faint smile, her eyes softening with gratitude. She reached over, brushing her elbow against Takashi's arm. "We're partners," she said gently.
Takashi's breath caught. For a heartbeat, he was transported back to a memory: the sewer water, and her voice, which sounded hauntingly the same. His eyes burned, though no tears fell. Partners… always partners. He lowered his head, silent in his grief.
Morganna, walking ahead, leaned slightly toward the Countess, her words soft, meant only for her. "Countess… you will have to be extra careful. Make certain Rosette does exactly as she is told."
The Countess inclined her head, her lips curling in a smile that was almost too smooth. "As you command, my lady. But tell me… what will you do with the High Chancellor once all is finished?" Her voice was silk, but her eyes gleamed with cold calculation.
Morganna tilted her head just enough for her words to carry back. A shadow of a smile curved across her lips — dark, resolute. "My husband will kill him."
The Countess chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement and perfect understanding. Two women — a queen and a schemer — shared the same cruel humor, bound by the inevitability of a man's death.