Their prison room's window overlooked a city that seemed unable to find peace. The Knight of Courage, usually restless, now stood quiet, her eyes tracing the streets teeming with activity.
"This war…it's not just chaos," she finally said, her voice quieter than usual. "It's calculated. There's something holding them here, trapping them in this conflict…"
Oriole ran a finger over the faded lines on the city map. "They worship a fragment of something…a relic. It's in the old cathedral, a twisted symbol of their desperate hope."
The Knight considered this. "It's the key, then. A direct assault would be madness, but…there might be another way."
His mind raced. Deception, not brute force, was his strength. "The chaos of battle. I can vanish within it, unnoticed. The perfect cover to reach their treasure."
