Two days had passed since the tragic murder of the bride and groom. The scandal surrounding Lady Caroline Roselle now graced the front pages of the capital's newspapers.
To the nobility, this news was like a stain on silk. Earl Roselle, Caroline's eldest brother, could no longer hold his head high among his peers. Even worse, James Percival, one of the most powerful and respected nobles, had openly voiced support for the common people, further humiliating the Roselle family.
Lady Caroline faced severe punishment for sacrificing the lives of commoners and murdering the Ashford heir, an act tantamount to blood treason in the eyes of the monarchy.
William stood in the main courtyard of the Sancantum Misericordiae church. The morning sun filtered through the clouds, warming the cool air. Elizabeth stood before him, her dress reflecting a soft light.
"William, thank you," she said, her voice sincere and calm. "You have done more to solve this case than we, the official Sentinels."
For anyone else, that sincerity might have been enough to make their heart tremble. But William had known Elizabeth long before all this, before she changed her name and identity, so those words touched an empty space in his heart. In that space, a small star began to shine. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him pause for a moment.
He smiled lopsidedly, trying to hide the flash of emotion. "It doesn't matter. If it weren't for me, those orphanage children would've gotten me into more trouble."
Elizabeth smiled thinly. Louis, on the other hand, only gave a curt nod. It was flat and almost cold. For a moment, William thought the man was like a living marble statue—beautiful to look at, but lifeless.
Without saying goodbye, William walked away with Sister Margaret. They returned to the orphanage. Upon arrival, the children greeted him with cheers. Father Albert wiped away tears with his sleeve, either from emotion or relief. But William was irritated by their behavior. Even though he himself had died.
---
The capital of Valmorra.
Louis stood on the main road that led from the courtyard for a moment. Even though before him lay a majestic sight—a gleaming white marble path flanked by towering pillars carved with statues of past Sentinelese heroes—his feet felt heavy as he walked.
The statues stared back at him with stone eyes—faces that never changed yet held stories of struggle and sacrifice. Louis knew that each Sentinel depicted there had once stood in his spot, bearing the same burden.
At the end of the path stood a magnificent building. A beautiful and imposing palace with dozens of towering steps, it was the seat of the Royal Order of Valmorra's power. Its silver domes glinted and its large windows reflected the sunlight. This was the Great Hall of the Palace and the official residence of His Highness, Edmund Ravensworth.
***
The sky above the Royal Order of Valmorra was clear and cloudless, the color of its blue so sharp it seemed unreal. The main road leading to the seat of government stretched majestically, carved precisely from white marble and flanked by rows of tall pillars on which stood statues of legendary Sentinels, silent sentinels themselves. The faces of each statue were a reminder of the glory paid for with blood and sacrifice.
In the distance stood the largest building of all. Its gleaming silver dome reflected sunlight, and stained glass windows adorned its sides. It was the Great Hall of the Palace, unmatched in its splendor. It was the center of all official Sentinel business, as well as the residence of Edmund Ravensworth. However, Louis knew that Edmund was rarely there. He was more often abroad or traveling the world.
Louis sighed softly as he calmly walked toward the palace. The Captains of the Order had been invited to attend an important meeting today. His Majesty the Great was not present.
As he entered the hall, he was greeted by a large, towering door with such detailed carvings that it seemed to come alive. As soon as the door opened, the scent of luxurious candles and aged wood filled his senses.
"Louis," a warm, calm voice called out. "Thank you for your contribution to the case of the murdered bride and groom."
Louis turned around. A man with blond hair, calm eyes, and a face nearly identical to his own stood before him, only slightly older. They were about the same height, with only a slight difference. The official white robes of the Sentinel were neatly draped around the man, giving him the air of a true aristocrat.
James Percival, his older brother. Captain of the Order of the Flower Shield.
"It's nothing, Brother," Louis replied in a low voice. "If I have any regrets, it's that I was too slow to see those who truly needed help."
Those words weren't just a formality. The orphanage teenager's sharp voice, who had so unhesitatingly criticized the Royal Order for its neglect of the common people, still rang in his head.
James patted him gently on the shoulder. "It's okay. I was busy with other things, too. The important thing is that the case was resolved successfully."
They walked side by side through the hall. Several mid- and lower-rank sentinels who passed by bowed respectfully, gazing at the pair of noble brothers with awe. They were alike—not just in appearance, but in their commanding authority that compelled others to make way.
"I heard," James said, his tone more curious this time, "that a teenager was involved in your mission while you were working on that case. Who was he?"
Louis stared straight ahead. "William Langley. He was an orphanage boy under the care of Sister Margaret and Father Albert. She was the primary witness in the Lady Caroline Roselle case."
He paused briefly, then continued walking. There was something else he hadn't revealed about William's identity, especially since this was his first time meeting the teenager. Especially regarding the young man's Sentinel-like powers.
***
Although the meeting room was smaller than the main hall where His Majesty usually presided, its opulence was no less striking. Mahogany panels carved with the Order's crest adorned the walls, and a thick red carpet stretched from the door to the large oval table in the center of the room. A crystal chandelier cast a warm light, giving the room an undeniably aristocratic feel.
Only a few of the Order's captains were present today. Some chairs were empty; others were filled by representatives. Louis's eyes swept around the room; there was no sign of Elizabeth. She had disappeared after the murder of the bride and groom. She hadn't spoken a word and was doing something Louis didn't know.
Though there weren't many people, the sound of conversation echoed throughout the room, creating a din that contrasted with its grandeur.
"Lady Caroline..." a nobleman's voice broke through, half in admiration and half in disgust. "A beautiful, dangerous woman. It's a shame Lord Asher isn't here. Perhaps he's too embarrassed by his beloved's actions, aren't you, Sir Michael?"
Louis glanced over. There stood Captain Garrick Howard, striking in his dark suit adorned with gold embroidery and with his raven-brown hair perfectly combed. His tone was soft, but every word was laced with sarcasm.
Sir Michael sat upright across from him and responded without a trace of irritation. His handsome face remained calm and his voice was even.
"Their relationship is in the past, and even then, it was one-sided." Lady Caroline was after Lord Asher's fortune. That relationship ended long ago."
Lord Garrick rolled his eyes idly, then fanned his face with a feathered hand fan. His movements were feigned.
"Whatever their past, his actions are unjustifiable. Moreover, she's working with Velmire—we all know who she is: A Wrath-Level Demon. His track record of murder spans not just the past three years but over half a century. And us? We're Sentinels with divine magical powers, leaving the people unprotected?" Captain James said calmly.
Louis could feel the tension in the air, as if it were a violin string pulled too tight.
Then, the voice came. It was calm and profound yet carried a weight that forced all heads to turn:
James Percival.
He said little, but enough to make Garrick close his fan and fall silent. Even the other captains and their assistants pressed their lips together. Besides His Majesty, only James could command such silence.
Sir Damian Crowhurst—a large, broad-shouldered man with a voice like a distant rumble—sighed heavily.
"I understand your unease, Captain James. No one expected us to face a Wrath-level demon, which is one level below Destruction. That demon had slaughtered over a hundred people."