The room lit up in a flash of blue.
Magic snapped at the air like static before fading, leaving only the echo of its weight behind. Katsu stumbled forward as his boots hit the velvet rug, shoulders sagging, mana flickering unsteadily at his fingertips.
He was home.
The air inside his suite was still—thick with warmth, lined with the familiar scent of old books and lavender-soaked fabric. No cold wind. No broken sky. Just his bed, his walls, his silence.
Sydney hung from his shoulder, barely upright.
With a tired grunt, Katsu helped guide her to the edge of his bed. "Easy…"
She dropped onto it with a wheeze, rolled sideways—
—and promptly slipped off the other side.
Thud.
She hit the floor with all the grace of a stunned bird.
There was a long pause.
Sydney didn't even lift her head. She just pressed her cheek to the cold wood and mumbled, "That felt terrible… and I'm tired."
Katsu blinked, still standing there like he wasn't sure what to do next. "You, uh… you okay?"
"Ask me again when I'm not the consistency of soup."
Before he could answer, the air cracked again.
A second pulse of blue light burst through the room—and Juju appeared, dragging Rei over her shoulder like an unwrapped package.
"Ugh," she groaned, dropping him with a dull flop onto the floor beside the bookshelf. "He's gonna pay me next time. Up front. No 'I'll heal you when we land'—I want coin."
Rei didn't move.
Juju stared at him for a beat, then gave him a casual kick in the side with the toe of her boot.
He made a faint, protesting noise.
"Good. Alive," she muttered, stepping over him and heading straight for the library annex like she hadn't just teleported half a corpse.
Katsu sat down on the bed—then laid back fully, arms outstretched, staring up at the ceiling.
No one said anything for a while.
Just the sound of shallow breathing, clothes rustling, bodies settling. A moment stretched thin by exhaustion.
Sydney eventually rolled onto her back and leaned up against the wall. Her eyes were open, but barely.
"That mission sucked," she said simply. "Trying to get away from everyone in that village..."
"Yeah," Katsu murmured. "Felt like running through a dream that didn't want to end."
Juju didn't look up from the book she'd pulled off his shelf. "It wasn't a dream. It was a fracture. Which is somehow worse."
Sydney let her head tip back. "I'm never doing that again."
"Don't say that," Katsu muttered from the bed, voice muffled by one of the pillows. "Because we all know you're lying."
She didn't argue.
She just closed her eyes again.
And in the quiet that followed, soft footsteps approached from the outer hall.
Someone knocked.
Then the door creaked open—
And Mari stepped into the room.
The door opened with a soft click.
Mari stepped inside without hesitation—her posture perfect, the heels of her boots barely making a sound against the polished floor.
"Good evening, Katsu," she said, folding her hands. "I assume the mission with your party went well?"
Katsu didn't lift his head from the bed.
"No," he said flatly. "It didn't. We failed. It was terrible."
He exhaled, voice low and heavy. "The mayor's office we were supposed to investigate? It smelled like dead bodies. And fetus."
There was a pause.
Mari's expression didn't change. She simply inclined her head. "Understood."
Katsu sat up slowly, dragging a hand across his face. His gaze swept the room—first to Sydney, who was half-melted into the floor beside the bed, eyes glassy.
Then to Rei, still face-down where Juju had dropped him. No movement.
Then toward the library annex, where Juju sat slouched in a reading chair, legs over one armrest, leafing through one of his books with casual disinterest.
"…Yeah," Katsu muttered. "Flawless execution."
Mari didn't flinch. "Regardless, you have visitors."
"Right now?"
She nodded once. "Two Tieflings from the land of Orador. They've requested a personal audience with the new heir of House Velthra. They've come to see if you are who your ancestors were."
Katsu groaned and tilted his head toward the ceiling. "I just got back."
"I know."
"I'm tired."
"I see."
He gave her a look. "Can you tell them to come back later?"
"No," she said gently. "You get up now."
Her tone never rose. No irritation. No pressure. Just quiet expectation wrapped in velvet.
Katsu sighed like it physically hurt. "Fine…"
He pushed himself off the bed with a wince.
Before he could move further, Levii shimmered into view beside him, half-solid, half-shadow. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, her touch already numbing the pain in his ribs.
"You're lucky I like you," she murmured.
Katsu gave her a tired smile—small, but real.
He turned to leave.
Behind him, Mari stepped toward the others.
"There are guest bedrooms available on the second and third floors," she said politely. "You're welcome to rest in any of them. However…"
Her gold eyes scanned the wreckage of the room—Sydney curled up on the floor, Rei unmoving, and Juju flipping a page like she lived there.
"…please refrain from using Katsu's bedroom as a makeshift graveyard. Kindly give him his space."
Juju didn't look up. "Mmm. Fine."
Sydney raised a hand and gave a weak thumbs-up.
Mari nodded. "Thank you."
Then she turned, following Katsu toward the front of the manor.
He descended the stairs, rubbing at his neck as he exhaled through his nose.
Missions were exhausting. But not unbearable. In fact, he could probably take another one before week's end.
"Mari," he called, turning the corner. "Did you let them in already?"
"The manor's guards should be escorting them up now," came Mari's voice—cool, efficient, distant as ever.
Katsu stepped into the receiving hall just as the doors opened.
Two figures crossed the threshold.
Both Tieflings.
The first was tall, relaxed, with crimson burnished horns curving wide above a smirk that spoke in riddles.
A lute slung over his back, gold embroidery catching the light like it was part of the performance.
His amber eyes flicked to Katsu immediately, curious. Calculating.
The second moved with sharper edges. Shorter, broader shoulders, skin like twilight and eyes like stormglass.
She wore leathers layered with dust and purpose. A sword on one hip, a dagger already resting lightly in one hand.
Not drawn, but not concealed either.
Katsu didn't move.
The three of them just stood there for a moment. Watching. Waiting.
Then the bard gave a slow bow, just low enough to be polite.
"Velthra's heir, I presume," he said, voice a velvet drawl. "You're shorter than I imagined. But sharper, too."
The girl beside him said nothing. Just met Katsu's gaze with that same unreadable stillness.
He folded his arms.
"And you are?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she stepped forward—boots silent against the marble, each motion deliberate and without hesitation. She passed through the doorway he'd just entered from, closing the space between them with quiet grace.
Before he could speak again, she took his hand.
And kissed him.
Soft. Certain.
Katsu's eyes shot open—his pulse staggered, breath caught halfway to his lungs.
For one terrifying second, he felt his soul begin to slip, lifting out of his chest like thread through a needle—
—and then Leviathan pulled it back.
Hard.
The surge of Envy coiled inside him like a snake disturbed in its den, and he staggered. But she held him steady.
When she pulled away, her face was as calm as before. Not a flicker of change. Not a hint of explanation.
Then she spoke.
"My name is Maedra Sha'dr," she said evenly. "I serve as a Custodes in my village."
She motioned toward the tiefling beside her with the lute.
"That bard is my junior. He is still learning, but loyal. We have long stood in quiet alliance with House Velthra, since your great-great-grandfather crossed our land, wounded but alive. We healed him."
Her eyes met Katsu's again, more steel than shadow.
"And now we offer our strength. Whatever aid the new heir requires, we will provide—if, in return, House Velthra will answer when our village calls."
Katsu didn't speak.
He couldn't—not yet.
Because the kiss still burned on his lips, and Leviathan's voice was breathing against the inside of his skull, low and possessive.
She knows who you are
The Leviathan whispered.
And she wants to serve.