In the distance, Lady Mirielle and her group continued their slow trek along the narrow, snow-covered trail. The biting cold pierced their skin, and their footprints were etched clearly into the white surface. Leading the group, Mirielle suddenly halted and raised her hand, signaling them to stop.
"Something's not right," she said in a low but firm voice.
One of her companions, a tall man wrapped in a thick cloak, glanced around nervously. "What do you sense, Lady Mirielle?"
Mirielle furrowed her brow, her eyes scanning the path ahead. "We're being watched."
At the observation post, Hughes received a signal from the motion sensors placed along the trail. He immediately signaled to his team. "They've entered the ambush zone. Team One, ready at the front. Team Two, what's your status?"
"Team Two is in position," came the reply through his handheld radio.
"Good," Hughes said. "Execute in three."
On the snowy path, Mirielle took a deep breath, her gaze still shifting warily. "We need to proceed cautiously. I feel we're surrounded."
But before she could issue any orders, a small explosion sounded ahead. A flashbang detonated, unleashing a blinding light and deafening noise that echoed between the cliffs. Members of Mirielle's group cried out, some falling as they lost their balance.
Mirielle instinctively shielded her eyes, but she felt someone roughly grab her arm. In an instant, they were surrounded by figures clad in white camouflage uniforms, holding weapons that appeared strange and unfamiliar.
"Don't move!" one of the Arcana soldiers barked in the local language, their weapons aimed directly at Mirielle's group.
"Who are you?!" Mirielle shouted, trying to remain composed despite the chaos.
Hughes stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "We should be the ones asking that. Who are you, and what's your purpose here?"
One of Mirielle's companions attempted to draw his weapon, but before he could act, a warning shot from Hughes' rifle rang out, sending the sword clattering to the ground.
"I said, don't move," Hughes said coldly.
Mirielle raised her hands, signaling her intent not to resist. "We don't mean anyone harm. We're just passing through."
"Passing through?" Hughes smirked faintly. "This road leads nowhere except Dralven. Unless you have a good reason, I suggest you stop wasting my time with lies."
Hours later, the report of the ambush reached Cero's desk. He read it carefully, his thin smile betraying both interest and amusement. "So, they're already in the military prison?"
Standing nearby, Sarah asked, "What's your next step, Director? Shall we interrogate them?"
Cero's narrowed gaze shifted toward Sarah as he tapped his fingers rhythmically against his large wooden desk. "Of course. Interrogate them. Ensure we extract any information we need." His voice was cold and decisive, leaving no room for doubt.
Sarah nodded swiftly. "Understood, Director. I'll instruct the team to begin the process immediately."
Before she could leave, a familiar electronic voice echoed in Cero's mind—a notification from the System that always seemed to choose inconvenient moments.
[New Quest: Personal Interrogation – Opportunity to Gain Verified Critical Information. Reward: Additional Insights and Strategic Advantages.]
Cero raised an eyebrow. Of course, he thought wryly, this System always knows when to pile on the workload.
Taking a deep breath, he raised a hand, stopping Sarah in her tracks. "Wait."
Sarah turned back, puzzled. "Director?"
"For this interrogation, I'll handle it myself," Cero said firmly. Rising from his chair, he adjusted his black military jacket and gave Sarah a sharp look. "We're already here in Dralven, not on Arcana Island. Besides, there's something intriguing about the boldness of this group."
Though hesitant, Sarah eventually nodded. "Understood, Director. But make sure to bring adequate security. They may be a small group, but they could still pose a threat."
Cero smirked faintly. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."
The interrogation room beneath Dralven headquarters was simple but functional. The cold stone walls and bright hanging lights created a tense atmosphere. At the center of the room was a sturdy steel table with chairs on either side.
Lady Mirielle and her group sat on one side, their hands bound behind their chairs. Although Mirielle's expression remained calm, her sharp eyes meticulously studied every detail of the room. Her companions, on the other hand, appeared far more anxious, still shaken from their earlier encounter with Arcana's soldiers.
The door to the room creaked open, and Cero entered with steady steps, flanked by two armed guards. His black military jacket, adorned with the Arcana insignia on the sleeve, exuded an undeniable aura of authority.
Mirielle's gaze immediately locked onto him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. So, this is the leader they spoke of, she thought.
Cero took the seat opposite them, folding his hands on the cold steel table. His sharp eyes scanned each of them in turn, as though evaluating their worth. His gaze, calm yet piercing, filled the room with a heavy tension.
"All right," he began, his tone flat but authoritative. "Let's get straight to the point. Who are you, and what is your purpose here?"
Mirielle maintained her composure, though the tension in her chest was unmistakable. She took a deep breath, willing her heartbeat to steady. Her previous experience in delicate situations had hardened her resolve, but this was different. Across from her sat not a typical noble or military officer bound by the kingdom's hierarchy—this was the leader of a mysterious faction wielding technology and power she had never seen before.
She glanced at Renard, one of her personal guards, who seemed ready to speak. Mirielle raised a hand to silence him. Renard might be a knight trained at the royal academy, but he lacked her finesse in political maneuvering.
"I'll handle this," Mirielle said softly yet firmly, her gaze never leaving Cero.
Cero arched an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you'll do the talking? Good. At least that'll save me some time."
"I am Lady Mirielle Varnell, daughter of Viscount Eremund. We are not here to attack but to observe. Rumors about this region have drawn the kingdom's attention, and my father wishes to ensure there is no threat near our borders."
Cero leaned back in his chair, his smile fading. "Observe? That's an interesting word to describe what looks an awful lot like espionage. So tell me—what exactly were you hoping to find here?"
Mirielle leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady on Cero. "Iron ships. Foreign technology. Rumors of a red dragon. Do you think such things wouldn't draw attention?"
Cero tapped his fingers against the table, the slow rhythm heightening the tension in the room. "And you thought sneaking into my territory was the best way to get answers? Did it ever cross your mind to send a formal envoy?"
"A formal envoy?" Mirielle let out a small, humorless laugh. "You speak as if your group is a recognized kingdom or power. In reality, you're a mysterious faction that suddenly appeared, occupying land and implementing drastic changes we don't understand."
Cero stopped tapping the table, his eyes narrowing. "So, you see me as a threat?"
Mirielle didn't flinch. "I didn't say that directly. But if your actions make the kingdom feel threatened, that's something you should take into account."
Cero rose slowly, walking around the table with a calm yet imposing stride. "Mirielle, you speak as though I am the threat, but look at yourself. You entered my territory with royal knights, trying to gather information without my permission. If anyone should feel threatened here, it's you."
Mirielle's jaw tightened slightly as she held his gaze. "I'm not here to provoke conflict, but if you interpret my actions as a threat, it only proves you're no better than the rumors suggest."
Cero paused, standing directly behind Mirielle's chair. "Rumors? Tell me, what do these rumors say?"
Mirielle turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze from the corner of her eye. "That your group wields power beyond our comprehension. That you may be the greatest threat this world has ever faced."
Cero gave a small smile before returning to his seat. "Interesting. So, you're here to determine if those rumors are true?"
"It's not for me to decide," Mirielle answered quickly. "But my father and the other nobles in the kingdom will. And if I don't return with enough information, they'll assume the worst."
Cero chuckled softly, though his tone carried an icy edge. "So, essentially, you're threatening me with your kingdom? Do you think I'm afraid of them?"
Mirielle remained composed, though her heart raced. "I'm not threatening you. I'm giving you the facts. The Delos Kingdom wields power that shouldn't be underestimated, even by you."
Cero nodded slowly, though his eyes gleamed with dangerous calm. "Delos may have power. But they don't know who they're dealing with. Do you know the difference between me and your kingdom, Mirielle?"
"And what's that?" she asked, her voice steady.
"I'm not bound by ancient traditions or hierarchies. I make my own rules, and I play on a field they don't even know exists. Now, I have one last question for you."
Cero leaned forward, his intense gaze locking onto hers, the sheer weight of it making Mirielle struggle to keep her breathing steady.
"What will you do if I decide not to let you leave?"
The room fell into a suffocating silence. Mirielle's guards appeared ready to act, but a subtle glance from her held them in check. She understood that one wrong move could prove fatal.
Mirielle inhaled deeply before speaking, her voice measured. "If you detain us, it will only worsen relations between your territory and the kingdom. But if you're wise, you'll let us go and use this as an opportunity to open a better dialogue."
Cero's faint smile returned, though it carried no warmth. "You believe in diplomacy. That's commendable, but also naive. The world doesn't always work that way, Mirielle."
He stood once more, gesturing toward the guards in the room. "Take them to temporary holding. I'll decide what to do with them later."