Anwir was positioned at Selvaria's shoulder, his posture entirely still, his eyes roving over the rippling sea of silk, bodies and venom in the ballroom. That duel with that third-rate noble was fading into mere background noise of courtly intrigues, but his brain snagged on a detail he'd missed-one pair at the edge of the crowd. The boy's stance, how he shielded the girl with his body, the low angry line of his jaw. His resemblance to someone he'd known was agonizingly familiar.
Kael.
The name hit Anwir like a cold splash of water. Kael Veyron. Future Sword Saint. One of the Five Heroes.
His heart skipped a beat, then hammered with sudden panic. How had he not recognized him before? In the game, Kael was a legend-a late-game powerhouse, a protagonist whose route was infamous for its difficulty and for the body count it left behind. Here, he looked like any other fallen noble, just another casualty of the ballroom's cruelty.
'Why didn't I remember? Anwir's thoughts spiraled. Is it the difference between pixels and flesh? The way memory blurs when you're not looking at a stats screen or a glowing quest marker? Or maybe it's just that this world isn't 3D anymore-no UI, no pop-ups, just faces in a crowd.'
He risked another glance. Kael's presence radiated a quiet, coiled strength, even now, even in exile. And the girl-Lira, wasn't it? The future Spirit Master. Another one of the Five.
'How many death flags are in this room tonight? he wondered, a cold sweat prickling at his collar.'
His mind raced through possible outcomes. If Kael awakened, if Lira's powers surfaced, if either of them decided Selvaria was an enemy…
'No. No, no, no. I do not need to be on the wrong side of a Sword Saint and a Spirit Master. Not when my own life is chained to Selvaria's survival.'
He forced himself to breathe, to focus. Just background characters, he'd thought before. Just faces in a crowd. But that was before the memory clicked into place. Now, every instinct screamed at him to tread carefully. To not make enemies where he could make…well, at least not make enemies.
Across the room, Marius Viridiel nursed his wine, eyes flicking between Selvaria and Kael with a toxic blend of envy and hunger. His gaze lingered on Selvaria-cold, untouchable, a prize he could never claim. But his lips twisted into a sneer as he watched Kael and Lira, the little lamb that had slipped from his grasp thanks to Selvaria's and Anwir's intervention.
"I'll get my hands on her for sure, Marius thought, his hatred simmering just beneath the surface. If I can't have the ice queen, I'll settle for breaking her toys. That little spirit girl will beg before the night is through."
Anwir caught the look, the way Marius's fingers tightened around his empty glass. He felt the tension coil tighter in the room-a storm brewing, old rivalries and new ambitions colliding beneath the chandeliers.
This is it, Anwir realized. The real story is starting. The heroes are gathering, the villains are watching, and I'm stuck in the middle, praying my meta knowledge doesn't fail me when it matters most.
He straightened his cuffs, forcing his face into its usual mask of calm.
No more missed details. No more treating legends like extras. 'If I want to survive this act-and keep Selvaria alive-I'll need to remember every route, every flag, every face… before it's too late.'
Selene sidled up to Anwir, her usual mischief replaced by a rare note of concern. She peered at his face, then nudged his arm with her clipboard. "You're sweating," she whispered, voice pitched for his ears alone. "Don't tell me that little duel rattled you. Or is it the crowd? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Anwir forced a faint smirk, wiping his brow with a gloved hand. "It's nothing. Just a little warm under all these chandeliers."
He kept his tone light, but inside, his thoughts were still a storm: Kael Veyron. Sword Saint. Five Heroes. How did I almost miss that? If I mess up, it's not just my life on the line-Selvaria's, too. And now there's a future protagonist in the room.
Selene eyed him for a moment longer, then grinned. "Well, whatever it was, you handled that noble like a pro. Trust me, our Mistress noticed. She might not say it, but she loves it when you put those arrogant types in their place." She winked. "You're the talk of the staff now. Even the kitchen girls are swooning."
He managed a real smile at that, tension easing just a little. "Glad to know I'm good for morale."
Selene's eyes shone bright. "Go get some air, fox boy. You look like you are about to pass out. If you bring me a snack I will cover for you if the Mistress asks."
Anwir nodded gratefully and, with a short bow to Selvaria, excused himself and slipped away from the writhing crowd. He moved to the table laden with refreshments, where he helped himself to a tall glass of chocolate milkshake and a plate of pretty pastries-stuff to have something sweet to take the edge off. He slipped out a side door and once outside, the cool night air soothed his overheated flesh.
He turned toward the edge of the terrace, seeking solitude while the rhythm of laughter and music faded behind him. The gardens were calm and peaceful, moonlight painting silver shadows over the stone path.
And that is when he saw her-a slight figure sitting on the edge of a marble bench, knees pulled to her chest, and staring longingly at the stars. Lira- the girl who would one day command spirits and shape the fates of empires. Right now, she simply looked out of place.
Anwir hesitated, but finally took a few steps closer and placed the milkshake and pastries beside her on the bench. "You look like you're could use something sweet," he said softly
Lira blinked, surprise dancing in her wide eyes. "Oh— I thank you." Her fingers encircled the glass, the cold glass causing her to shiver and smile at the same time. It was chilling— and now the chilled glass conspired to keep her from wincing when she lost her smile with embarrassment.
He maintained a polite distance while she gradually settled into her unfamiliar, personal sparkling milkshake. He allowed the silence to settle between them. For a moment, nothing was said. Anwir absently watched Lira out of the corner of his eye, the rest of his mind reeled around half-remembered game history and one thought, one direction: Don't make an enemy of this one. Ever.
Lira took her sips, and a small, heartfelt smile appeared on her lips. "It's real good," she said softly. "I've never had anything like this."
Anwir's lips twitched. "First time for everything."
And in that very fleeting moment, the real world—the machinations, the rivalries, the threats to every living thing in the galaxy—ceased to exist outside the ballroom, feeling far, far away.
Lira took another quick sip of the drink, her eyes darting from Anwir to the milkshake and then back, whereupon she glanced away. She played grasped the rim of the glass, now bordering on a shy smile.
"You were… really cool back there," she said, her voice soft but earnest. "When you stepped in and stopped that noble-I've never seen anyone move like that. I thought you were going to yell, but you just… handled it. And then when you looked at me, I…" She trailed off, cheeks coloring. "You kind of scared me for a second, but it was still really cool."
Anwir blinked, caught off guard by the praise. He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Sorry if I startled you," he said, voice gentle. "It wasn't my intention."
Even if someone else hurt you, I'd probably apologize anyway, he thought wryly. I've seen what happens to people who end up on a future Spirit Master's bad side. My name does not need to be on your kill list, thank you very much.
He glanced at her, a teasing glint in his eye. "You think my face is cool? Most people say these slit eyes make me look sly or scary. Not exactly the hero type."
Lira laughed, a sound as light as wind chimes. "Maybe that's why it was so surprising. You looked like you belonged in a story-just… not the villain's story."
Anwir smiled, a little more genuine this time. "I'll take that as a compliment. And for what it's worth, I think you handled yourself pretty well too just before."
She ducked her head, hiding her grin behind the glass. "Thank you."
For a moment, under the moonlit sky and the hush of the gardens, the world felt simple-just a girl, a butler, and a shared moment of peace far from the ballroom's storm