"Your Majesty!" Thackeray, seeing Lancaster in peril, staggered toward him. His weakened body could barely support him, and after just a few steps, he collapsed to the ground. He struggled to lift his upper body with his hands and crawled inch by inch toward Lancaster, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Step by step by step...
"Lancaster, brother, Thackeray, brother!" His voice, though meant to be a cry, was no more than a hoarse whisper. For the first time, Lief despised his own weakness, his inability to protect those he cherished. Cain's fists clenched tightly, his eyes burning with rage, yet he too could do nothing.
Manning, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "What's the point, Thackeray? Crawling toward him like this is nothing more than a death wish."
Without turning his head, Thackeray replied, "At least I can die with him. That's all the meaning I need."
"Oh, Tahl, is this your cruel jest?" Manning closed his eyes. When he reopened them, they gleamed with sharp clarity. "Thackeray, if you truly wish to save Lancaster, then listen to me."
Thackeray paused.
"Focus all your strength on the man to the left—every last bit. Hold nothing back!"
Without hesitation, Thackeray raised his hand, and a blue flame shot through the air. "The Flame of Life? Does he mean so much to you?" Manning murmured to himself, as he too released a flame aimed at the lead man. Cain and Lief, gathering the last vestiges of their strength, directed their energy toward the man as well.
Feeling the overwhelming force of the attack, the man tried to resist. But cracks began to form in the once-impenetrable formation. His sword fell a fraction too fast, stopping just a centimeter above Lancaster's head, blocking the other four blades. The man at the center of the formation collapsed to his knees, coughed up blood, and lost consciousness. The rest of the Fensa team lowered their swords.
The referee rushed onto the stage, clearly conflicted. While one member of the Fensa team was incapacitated, Cain, Lief, Thackeray, and Lancaster were all on the verge of collapse, barely holding on.
"We can still fight!" Lancaster, Thackeray, Cain, and Lief stood up, raising their hands in declaration. Though their bodies were battered and bloodied, their spirit remained unbroken.
The middle-aged man lowered his hand. "We've lost."
The referee quickly raised Lancaster's hand. "The Queen's team, victorious!"
"Queen's team! Queen's team! Queen's team!" The crowd erupted into rhythmic cheers and applause. The five teammates exchanged smiles, and in the next moment, all collapsed on the stage.
"Lancaster! Come out, come out!" Outside the door, Lief called out with a wave. Lancaster stood up from beside Thackeray's bed and walked out the door. "What is it, kid?"
"Someone's here to see you."
"Who could it be this late?"
"I don't know!"
"Kid, your wounds haven't healed yet. Don't run around like that—you'll leave yourself with lasting damage."
"I'm fine, Lancaster!" Lief stuck out his tongue and ran off into the distance. Lancaster shook his head helplessly.
Three days had passed since the brutal battle, and everyone was slowly recovering. But Thackeray... Lancaster frowned. Perhaps the injuries were too severe, or maybe he was simply exhausted, but Thackeray had been unconscious since the end of the fight. He had woken up once, briefly, asked Lancaster if he was okay, then slipped back into a deep sleep.
Hoping for the best, Lancaster pushed aside the strange unease in his chest and walked out into the courtyard. "Huh, it's you?" Standing at the gate was the leader of the Fensa team, the middle-aged man. He nodded at Lancaster, motioning for him to follow. The two walked silently through the empty streets of Naye, bathed in moonlight, for what seemed like hours before the man finally spoke.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"We shouldn't have exploited your injury."
Understanding that he was referring to the attack on his injured arm, Lancaster shrugged it off. "It doesn't matter. Combat is about results, not methods. I only see it as a smart move. You're worthy opponents."
The man fell silent again, his presence heavy and solid like a mountain.
"I'm more curious about something else," Lancaster continued. "Who are you? And why do you hide your faces?"
The man hesitated before replying, "We are the royal guards of the Sevan court."
"Damn! I should've known. I really am an idiot. Your team name should've given it away. No wonder we were beaten so badly."
Sevan was a small country in the center of the continent, known for its music, art, and literature, but lacking in military prowess. To avoid becoming prey to its neighbors, Sevan had voluntarily given up its army and all forms of armed forces, retaining only minimal self-defense measures in exchange for absolute neutrality—this became the Sevan Covenant. Sevan citizens were forbidden from using force anywhere on the continent; if they did, the covenant would be nullified. Hence, they had to participate in the Knights' Festival in disguise. If their true identities were discovered, it would lead to disaster. Given Sevan's vast libraries, it wasn't surprising that they knew such long-lost forbidden techniques.
"So why take the risk of coming here?" Lancaster asked.
"Because the royal treasury is nearly empty."
Sevan's people were talented in art and philosophy, not in labor or commerce, so their treasury was often depleted. But this time, it seemed particularly dire.
"So you came to the Knights' Festival to earn money?" Lancaster asked, and the man nodded.
"What now?"
"We'll look for another job."
"So you're basically mercenaries?" Lancaster raised an eyebrow.
The man nodded again.
"How about I recommend a job to you? Great benefits, high salary!" Lancaster's sly, fox-like smile returned as he began his recruitment pitch.
While Lancaster was busy trying to recruit the Sevan royal guards, Manning sat in his room, sipping wine by moonlight. The crescent moon outside was reflected in the wine, curving like a silver hook in his cup. He swirled the glass, shattering the reflection of the moon.
"Are you coming in, or must I extend an invitation?" he called.
A black bird flew in through the window, transforming into a man clad in dark armor as it landed. "Your Highness, I greet you."
"Speak quickly," Manning said impatiently.
"His Majesty sent me to ask if you've found 'the one.'"
"Tell him it's far too early."
"But, Your Highness, you've been gone for so long. His Majesty, and even the second and third princes, are beginning to complain…"
"If they're so unhappy, they can strip me of my title. He's got plenty of sons to choose from. As long as he has 'the one,' it doesn't matter."
The man on the floor lifted his head in horror. "Your Highness, that's treasonous!"
"Humph, what does it matter? Tell him exactly that if you wish." Manning took another sip of wine, his smile dazzling yet chilling. "Still here?"
"N-no, Your Highness. I'll take my leave!" The man quickly retreated, thankful to have escaped with his life. He knew all too well that when the eldest prince smiled like that, it meant his mood was foul, and one was lucky to walk away unscathed.
Manning raised his glass. "Father, you're so eager to meet 'the one,' aren't you? Let's hope you won't regret it when you do."
"Done deal!" Lancaster eagerly shook the Sevan guard's hand. The man, still bewildered by Lancaster's fast-talking pitch, found himself nodding along. "Trust me!" Lancaster grinned, satisfied. "By the way, do you know why your formation broke when Thackeray and the others attacked?"
The man shook his head honestly. "I don't. There's no mention of it in the texts."
"Oh, really?"
After parting ways with the Sevan man, Lancaster strolled back to his quarters.
"Hey, where've you been off to? Thackeray's still unconscious, and here you are sneaking around!" Manning teased from the rooftop.
Lancaster leapt up, landing beside him. "You're in a fine mood, sitting here drinking."
"We made it to the finals. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Hah, fair enough. But how did you break the Five-Petaled Orchid?" Lancaster asked directly.
"What's so strange about that?" Manning deflected.
"I know about the Five-Petaled Orchid, and I know the Five-Spanning Plum is its only counter. To break the Five-Spanning Plum, a bloodstained petal must be sacrificed. But I don't know the exact method. And what you did isn't documented in any human library. Manning, who are you really?"
"Me? I'm an Elder of the High Council of the Federation, of course. Who else would I be?" Manning's face grew solemn, his presence shifting into something far more intense.
There was something about the man sitting under the moon that felt different from the usual Manning, but Lancaster couldn't quite put it into words. The restrained aura Manning usually carried was now fully unleashed, suffocating in its intensity.
"Instead of wasting your time with me, Your Majesty, shouldn't you check on Thackeray? He might already be"Awake already!" Manning's killing intent vanished in an instant, and he returned to his usual gentle and harmless demeanor.
"Hmph!" Lancaster shot him a fierce glare. "You planned all along to make Thackeray the bloodstained petal, didn't you? You never intended to save me, did you?"
"Oh? And why would I do that?" Manning raised his glass, responding calmly.
"Manning, I don't care who you are, but let me warn you. You can do whatever you want with me, but if you harm Thackeray again, I won't let you off so easily. Remember my words!"
With that, Lancaster leaped down, not looking back as he headed toward the room.
"I hurt him? And you're the one protecting him? Hahaha, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard! Hahaha…" Manning laughed so hard he doubled over, a single tear glistening at the corner of his eye.
Under the moonlight, his once-black hair shimmered with a faint blue glow.