The Steel Vanguard headquarters was alive with laughter, drinking, and celebration. Some men drank to drown their grief, while others toasted their new alliance. The air was thick with the scent of ale and roasted meat, a stark contrast to the battlefield they had left behind.
At the center of the drinking competition stood Belial, his usual elegance replaced with an air of mild amusement. Ten men had already fallen, slumped over tables, groaning in defeat. Meanwhile, Belial sat completely unaffected, his cup still in hand.
"Impossible…" one mercenary muttered, his head spinning. "How… are you not drunk?"
Belial smirked, placing his cup down with a soft clink. "I suppose alcohol doesn't work on me," he said smoothly. "Pity, really—I was beginning to enjoy this little contest."
Laughter erupted from the crowd, though most of it was slurred and half-conscious.
Up on the second-floor balcony, Theodore stood with Mimi, gazing down at the chaos with quiet amusement.
Cahir made his way up the stairs, his face flushed with excitement. "I see you two are enjoying the view! I'd invite you for a drink, but you're still a minor," he teased.
Theodore chuckled, his expression warm and innocent. "I appreciate the offer, but I did have something on my mind," he said, tilting his head. "Since your guild is stationed inside Donovan territory, what will you do when the Marquis retaliates? Won't he just banish your men and send his soldiers after you?"
Cahir stroked his beard, grinning. "You're sharp, kid. That's a real concern, but I've already got a plan. I've been meaning to relocate our guild to a bigger city—somewhere with more power, more opportunities. In fact, we were thinking of moving to Rhonwen… where your father rules."
(Ah, so that's what this is about…)
Theodore's smile didn't waver, but inside, his mind sharpened. (This man may act straightforward, but he's calculating. He wants to use my authority to establish a branch in my father's city, ensuring he has protection under royal law. Clever, but predictable.)
Instead of confronting him, Theodore simply beamed. "That sounds like an excellent idea!" he said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I'll talk to my father about it. I'm sure he'll be delighted to grant permission."
Cahir's eyes widened in surprise, before he burst into laughter. "You're a good kid, Theodore! I appreciate it."
Then, hesitation flickered across his face. "But… the rumors say that you and your father don't get along. Are you sure he'll listen to you?"
Theodore let out a sigh, rubbing his arm like a boy struggling with family issues. "That's true. We're not exactly close. But now that I've awakened my aura and magic, I'm sure he'll see my worth. He'll probably ask if I want a reward, and when he does…" Theodore's eyes gleamed. "I'll ask him to personally grant land for your guild."
Cahir beamed, clasping Theodore's shoulder in excitement. "Then I owe you one, boy!"
He rushed back downstairs, roaring the news to the rest of the mercenaries, who cheered even louder at the idea of expanding their influence.
Meanwhile, on the balcony…
Mimi turned to Theodore, her lips curling in amusement. "My lord… will the king really agree to this?"
Theodore chuckled, resting his hands behind his back. "Oh, he will. Because his dear wife, Bianca, is dead. And I've already replaced her with a shadow copy."
Mimi's grin widened. "So you'll have her convince the king for you?"
"Exactly." Theodore's eyes gleamed. "By the time my father realizes how deep he's been played, it'll be too late."
He watched the drunken mercenaries below, their cheers deafening, their trust unshakable.
"And that…" he murmured, smiling to himself, "is how you play the game."
After hours of drinking, laughter, and celebration, Belial finally made his way up the stairs, his presence cutting through the noise like a blade. He stepped onto the balcony where Theodore and Mimi stood, quietly observing the festivities below.
"My lord," Belial said smoothly, "it's time for us to return. We've been gone for a full day—if we linger any longer, the academy may start asking questions."
Theodore sighed, stretching his arms. "True. It would be troublesome if someone started digging around."
Just as he was about to summon a portal, Cahir bounded up the stairs, his face still flushed from the celebration. "Leaving already?" he asked, slightly out of breath. "At least allow me to prepare a carriage for your journey, my prince. It's the least I can do."
Theodore shook his head, offering a polite yet distant smile. "No need. I prefer to walk."
"But it's already past midnight. The roads aren't safe," Cahir insisted.
"We have our own ways," Theodore said simply, his tone final.
Cahir hesitated before nodding. "Very well, then." He glanced at Jennet, who had followed him upstairs, and then back at Theodore. "You always have a place here, my prince."
Theodore offered a charming smile, but inwardly, his mind was already elsewhere.
Theodore, Belial, and Mimi slipped away from the mercenary guild, moving through the darkened streets like ghosts. Once they reached the city outskirts, Belial raised a hand, summoning a swirling black portal. The air around them thickened, crackling with energy as the gateway formed—a direct passage back to Theodore's dormitory.
As they stepped through, the quiet of the forest dissolved, replaced by the stillness of Theodore's private chambers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of aged parchment and polished wood filling the air. Theodore immediately collapsed into his chair, exhaling in satisfaction.
Belial leaned against the bookshelf, his crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You seem pleased, my lord," he noted. "But I have to ask—why didn't you deal with the Marquess directly? He's an obvious threat, and you had the perfect opportunity."
Theodore chuckled, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "Because patience, Belial, is the key to true victory."
Belial tilted his head. "Oh?"
Theodore leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes flickering with cold amusement. "Kallistar Donovan isn't just some noble—he's an influential figure with deep connections across the Kiran Continent. Killing him now would cause immediate chaos, but it would also alert my true enemies. Right now, I need information more than I need his head."
Belial smirked, impressed. "So you're unraveling the web before you burn it down?"
"Exactly," Theodore murmured. "If I strike too soon, I risk missing the bigger picture. Donovan is a piece, but not the piece."
Mimi, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "And what of the Queen? What role does she play now?"
Theodore's grin widened, his fingers lacing together. "She will be my eyes and ears in the palace. Through her, I'll know everything about my father—the king—and the Marquis. They'll never suspect a thing."
Belial chuckled, shaking his head. "You truly are a master of the long game, my lord."
Theodore closed his eyes, letting a smirk settle on his lips.
"The Marquess, he won't even realize he already lost."
Theodore's smirk deepened as he leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. "But first… Door, come forth."
The air shifted, and a massive dark door materialized before them, its obsidian surface pulsing with eerie energy. As the door creaked open, it revealed the familiar gloom of the Dark Soul Realm. Inside, Shadow Commander stood near the towering black fortress, watching as Luna gleefully ran in circles, chasing little wisps of dark mana that flickered like fireflies.
The moment Shadow Commander sensed Theodore's presence, he immediately dropped to one knee, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. "Greetings, my lord."
Theodore glanced past him, raising an eyebrow. "I see you've been… busy."
Shadow Commander cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "Ahem—Well, the little miss was bored. She requested to play, and… I simply obliged."
Luna, upon spotting Mimi, let out a delighted squeal and bolted toward the portal, crashing into her with a tight hug. "Mimi!"
Mimi smiled, patting Luna's head gently. "Did you behave while I was gone?"
Luna nodded enthusiastically. "Mhm! Shadow Commander played with me!"
Theodore smirked as he glanced at the towering warrior. "Good work, Shadow Commander. You're more useful than I expected."
Shadow Commander straightened his posture, bowing his head. "I am honored to serve, my lord."
With a wave of Theodore's hand, the massive door began to dissolve, its inky form melting into the shadows until it completely vanished.
Mimi and Luna turned to Theodore, offering a respectful bow. "We'll be heading to our dormitory now, my lord," Mimi said.
Theodore nodded dismissively. "Go on, get some rest."
As they left, the room fell into silence.
Belial was about to leave when the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted.
Standing at the door was Principal Roman. His sharp gaze bore into the room like a blade, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something far colder. The weight of his presence alone was enough to make most students break into a sweat.
Belial, unfazed, offered a polite bow. "Good evening, Principal Roman."
Roman, however, didn't return the greeting. His eyes flicked between Theodore and Belial, his expression unreadable.
"It's late," Roman said finally. "Yet here you are, still in your master's chambers. Strange, wouldn't you say?"
Theodore emerged from the shadows of his room, his crimson eyes glinting in the dim candlelight. "Mr. Roman, please excuse my butler," he said smoothly. "He was assisting me with my nightly training session."
Roman's brows furrowed, clearly unconvinced. His piercing gaze locked onto Theodore, as if trying to see straight through him.
"Training, is it?" Roman's voice was skeptical. He let out a slow breath before cutting straight to the point. "Enough with the games. We need to talk."
Theodore feigned innocence, tilting his head. "Talk? But Mr. Roman, it's already late. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"
Roman's voice turned ice-cold. "You will either cooperate, or I will ensure your punishment for sneaking out of the academy is far more severe."
Theodore's expression didn't falter, but his mind raced. (Tch. He caught on faster than I expected. This man is sharp.) Still, he refused to let any hint of concern show on his face.
Instead, he sighed theatrically, crossing his arms. "I can't believe you'd accuse me of sneaking out without proof!" He let the words hang for a moment before finally stepping aside, gesturing toward the room. "But please, come in. Let's hear what you have to say."
As Belial silently poured tea, Roman took a seat, his posture rigid with suspicion. His sharp gaze never left Theodore.
"I'll be direct," Roman said. "Two nights ago, I sensed a massive wave of mana. Dark magic. It came from the forest—where you and the other students were training."
(So that's it. He must have felt it when I freed Luna.) Theodore processed the information in an instant, keeping his face a perfect mask of confusion. He slowly raised an eyebrow, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.
"Dark magic?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous."
Roman's gaze hardened. "Don't lie to me, boy. I've lived long enough to recognize when someone is deceiving me."
Theodore's expression didn't waver. "With all due respect, Mr. Roman, I've been in my room for the past two days," he said smoothly. "You've seen my magic—it's elemental. I have no connection to dark magic."
(Fool. Do you think you'll catch me that easily? I've already prepared for this. Thanks to the Book of Shadows, I've acquired a skill that suppresses all traces of my dark mana. Even if you search my body, you won't find a thing.)
Roman wasn't convinced. Without warning, he lunged forward, gripping Theodore's wrist. A surge of mana pulsed from his palm, flowing through Theodore's veins, searching—probing for any trace of darkness.
For a moment, the room was completely silent.
Then… nothing.
Roman's expression shifted, his brows knitting together in visible confusion. He could sense Theodore's mana circuits—but they were completely clean. No corruption, no traces of dark magic. Only pure mana and aura coursed through his veins.
Roman's grip loosened, his hands falling away. "Impossible," he muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes flickering with uncertainty. "I could've sworn…"
Theodore saw his opening.
His voice trembled, perfectly feigning frustration. "I can't believe this, Mr. Roman." His hands clenched into fists, his body trembling slightly—not with fear, but with the perfect amount of anger. "I always knew people looked down on me because of my curse, but to think even you, my principal, would accuse me without proof?"
Roman hesitated.
Theodore pressed further, his voice layered with just the right amount of hurt. "It's always the same. Because I was weak, because I was different, everyone treated me like I was nothing. And now that I've awakened my powers, instead of congratulating me, you blame me for something I didn't do?"
Roman shifted uncomfortably. "That's not what I—"
"It's fine." Theodore forced a bitter smile, shaking his head. "I get it. To you, I'm just the cursed prince. If something bad happens, then it must be my fault, right?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
For the first time, doubt crept into Roman's expression. The hard lines of his face softened, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"I may have misjudged you," Roman admitted reluctantly, standing up. "I'll look into the matter further."
Theodore hid his smirk. (Got you.)
Roman hesitated at the door, then glanced at Belial. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, studying him with quiet scrutiny.
"…Your face," Roman murmured. "It feels… familiar."
Belial's entire body tensed. But he didn't respond. He simply stood there, silent.
After a long moment, Roman sighed, shaking his head. "Forget it." He turned back to Theodore, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You may have fooled me for now, boy, but I'm watching you. Closely."
With that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
The room remained silent for a long moment.
Then—
Theodore exhaled slowly, his usual smirk returning. "That man is relentless," he mused, leaning back against his bedpost.
Belial chuckled, shaking his head. "He's dangerous. But my lord… your acting was perfect."
Theodore's smirk widened. "Of course it was. He was already suspicious, but now? Now he'll start doubting himself."
Belial grinned. "Still, he won't give up easily. He'll keep investigating."
"I know," Theodore said calmly. "And when he does… I'll be ready."