Vyrelda arrived at the castle entrance with an expression that could only be described as unamused. Her presence was unmistakable: tall and imposing, her figure encased in light armor that seemed to blend strength and elegance. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a braid, and her deep, piercing blue eyes were full of unwavering determination. Vyrelda was, in every sense, the embodiment of a knight—unyielding, strong, and dedicated. Her presence brought a sense of security, though not necessarily comfort, as her demeanor carried a chill to it that matched her stare.
She approached Mikhailis and Lira, and the contrast in her greetings couldn't have been more pronounced.
"Good morning, Lira," Vyrelda said, her voice polite but with a trace of warmth as she acknowledged the maid.
Lira smiled back, nodding respectfully.
"Morning, Lady Vyrelda."
Then Vyrelda turned to Mikhailis, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Your Highness," she greeted him curtly, her tone as cold as the winter wind.
Mikhailis raised an eyebrow and gave her a wry smile.
"Why, Vyrelda, I think that's the warmest greeting you've ever given me."
Vyrelda gave him a sharp look. "I assure you, Your Highness, my job isn't to provide warmth."
Lira stifled a giggle behind her hand, and Mikhailis couldn't resist the opportunity for a verbal jab.
"You know, Vyrelda, they say a little warmth never hurt anyone. I mean, unless you're secretly a snow golem. Then I suppose it could be fatal."
Vyrelda frowned, her eyes narrowing further as she attempted to come up with a witty response, but it was evident she wasn't quite used to verbal sparring of this nature. Mikhailis's smile only widened.
"I mean, you might be strong and headstrong, Vyrelda, but you know what they say—men don't really go for too powerful and stubborn women. Hard to date someone who looks like they'd beat you up if you forget an anniversary."
That got Lira. She let out a soft, almost-snorting laugh, trying but failing to hold back her amusement.
Vyrelda, on the other hand, clenched her jaw.
"Your Highness," she said, her tone icy.
"I suggest we avoid further nonsense. There is an important meeting today, in case you've forgotten."
Mikhailis shrugged, still grinning as the coachman cleared his throat. It was clear that it was time to go.
"Alright, alright. Let's get moving before you decide to throw me into the carriage," Mikhailis said, taking a step towards the coach. He could still feel Vyrelda's disapproving gaze on his back.
They boarded the carriage—Mikhailis, Lira, and Vyrelda. As the door closed behind them, the air inside felt undeniably awkward. Vyrelda sat stiffly across from him, her gaze occasionally flicking to Lira, who simply looked out of the window, her face still carrying a trace of amusement.
Mikhailis decided to save everyone the trouble of forced conversation. Instead, he tapped the side of his head and whispered quietly.
"Rodion, display the chimera colony's progress."
Mikhailis focused on the virtual overlay only he could see. The display projected the image of the chimera ant colony, where the worker ants were diligently expanding tunnels and creating new chambers. The food storage chamber was an interesting sight—various corpses of magical bugs had been gathered, their remains already partially disassembled and sorted.
Mikhailis smiled, trying not to draw attention to himself as Vyrelda eyed him suspiciously. He had to admit, the ants were exceeding his expectations. The food storage chamber looked well-stocked, and the luminescent beetle shells embedded into the walls provided a soft glow throughout the tunnels.
"Good job, my little army," he muttered under his breath.
Mikhailis nodded subtly, his excitement building.
"Noted, Rodion."
Mikhailis glanced up to see Lira giving him a curious look. He flashed her a reassuring smile, to which she only raised an eyebrow, her lips curling up just slightly.
They continued their journey, the carriage rolling along the cobbled road. The tension between Vyrelda and Mikhailis seemed to simmer down, replaced by an uneasy silence that filled the carriage.
But then, the stillness shattered.
It happened.
Out of nowhere, the carriage jolted violently to a halt, throwing Mikhailis forward. Vyrelda's hand shot out to steady herself, her eyes instantly narrowing with suspicion.
"What the—"
Before she could finish, the air was filled with the sound of clashing metal and distant shouts. Vyrelda immediately drew her sword, her eyes flashing with determination as she looked out the carriage window.
"Mikhailis, stay inside!" she commanded sharply, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Completely disregarding the honorifics in the heated moment, aren't you now, not very professional, Vyrelda.
The door was wrenched open by one of the knights escorting them.
"Lady Vyrelda, we're under attack! Masked men—well-armed, possibly Technomancers!"
Vyrelda's eyes widened, her knuckles whitening around her sword's hilt. "
"Technomancers?" she hissed, her gaze darkening.
Mikhailis peeked out the window, his eyes scanning the scene. The attackers were dressed in dark cloaks, their faces hidden by masks, and they moved with a kind of precision that set off alarms in his head. Some carried swords glowing with a strange, purple energy, while others had strange talismans etched into their clothing—talismans that looked unnervingly advanced.
Rodion's voice echoed in his mind, confirming his suspicions.
Mikhailis's eyes narrowed as Vyrelda and the five knights outside engaged the attackers. The clash of swords filled the air, and he could see Vyrelda fighting fiercely, her movements swift and precise as she parried an attack and countered with a powerful strike. She was shouting something—a curse directed at the Technomancers.
"You Technomancer bastards, are you trying to start another war?!"
Despite the urgency of the situation, Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a strange sense of curiosity.
Why now?
Why attack them now, on their way to meet the Saintess?
Mikhailis's eyes darted towards Lira, who was still in the carriage. He could see it—just the faintest shadow moving silently towards her, a blade glinting in the light. The assassin was good, blending in almost perfectly, but not good enough.
He knew Lira was tough.
She always had a knife strapped to her leg, and she'd shown more than once that she knew how to use it.
But this wasn't a regular skirmish.
This was different—deadlier.
Without another thought, Mikhailis moved.
He lunged across the carriage, grabbing Lira and pulling her into a tight embrace.
"M-Mikhailis?!" Lira gasped, her eyes wide with shock.
He didn't respond. Instead, he kicked open the carriage door, leaping out and holding Lira close as he landed on the ground. He heard Rodion's voice again, urging him to retreat.
But he could see it clearly—there wasn't enough time. Vyrelda was occupied with three attackers, and the assassin was closing in fast. If he moved towards Vyrelda, they wouldn't make it.
Mikhailis gritted his teeth, calculating his options. There was only one thing he could do.
"Lira," he whispered, looking at her with a serious expression.
"Trust me."
Before she could respond, he threw her—literally threw her—towards Vyrelda.
Lira's scream was cut off as she flew through the air, landing just behind Vyrelda, who quickly turned, her eyes widening in shock.
"Your Highness!" Vyrelda shouted, her voice filled with disbelief and anger.
She turned, parrying an incoming strike as she tried to make her way towards Mikhailis.
Mikhailis stood his ground, his eyes locked on the assassin.
First, he needs to assess the situation, no, the intention of the assassin.
If he's trying to kill him, he would need to retaliate, but then-
He could see it—the intent behind the masked figure's movements.
This wasn't a kill. This was a capture.
The assassin closed in, his blade swinging towards Mikhailis's head. At the last moment, Mikhailis made no attempt to dodge or block. He simply stood there, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Rodion's voice echoed in his mind, filled with panic.