James stood in a grassy field, the bright sky stretching endlessly above him. The wind gently rustled the grass, creating a soothing rhythm. In his right hand, he gripped a steel sword. Before him stood a woman with cascading white hair that fell to her waist. Her gray eyes were sharp, and her peach-toned skin contrasted with the gleaming silver armor she wore.
The woman held a black blade in her right hand, gripping it tightly.
"James, are you sure you don't want me to use a steel sword as well?"
James shook his head.
"I'm sure. This is better training for me."
The woman sighed, then got into a sword stance, the tip of her blade aimed at James.
"You make the first move."
James gathered all his strength in his legs and dashed toward her.
James's eyes fluttered open. His vision was blurry, and the bright sun above only made it worse, blinding him further.
James rested his head on the woman's soft lap. She had removed her armor, leaving her in a sleek black bodysuit, ensuring he could rest more comfortably.
As she looked down at him, her white hair fell over his face. Flustered, James sat up abruptly, his cheeks burning.
"W-What happened, Sylvrae?" he stuttered.
Sylvrae smiled gently and rose to her feet. She walked toward her armor, which lay beneath a tree nearby.
"You didn't last very long, James,"
She said.
James sighed and stood up. He retrieved his blade from where it had fallen, carefully sheathing it as he tried to hide his embarrassment.
"James, what's wrong? It's not like you to go down this fast," Sylvrae said.
"I guess today's just not my day."
James answered.
Sylvrae shook her head.
"That's not true. Does this have to do with your father?"
James turned away and began walking toward a towering kingdom in the distance, surrounded by massive stone walls. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back at her.
"I'd rather not talk about him right now. How about we go get some food instead?"
Sylvrae smiled softly as she began putting on her silver armor.
"Sure, food sounds nice."
James resumed his walk toward the kingdom. Once Sylvrae had finished putting on her armor, she ran to catch up with him.
The two entered the bustling kingdom, the streets packed with carriages and people weaving through the chaos. James and Sylvrae found a small wooden table in a cozy restaurant and sat across from each other.
A man with jet-black hair, dressed in a butler'suniform, approached their table and bowed.
"Prince James and Lady Sylvrae, you come once again to our small establishment! Will both of you be having the usual?"
They both nodded, and the butler departed. James reached into his pocket, pulling out an ace card, which he placed on the table between them. Sylvrae tilted her head.
"Do you want to play blackjack?"
James shook his head, his tone lowering.
"No. Sylvrae… someone's been following me."
Sylvrae blinked in surprise.
"Following you? What do you mean?"
James leaned back in his chair, crossed his fingers, and placed them under his chin.
"Wherever I go, I feel them. It's like they're always there, watching me. Except when I'm in crowded places like this restaurant. That's why I brought you here—to talk about it."
"Do you have some sort of ability to sense people? Or… have you seen them?"
Asked Sylvrae.
James shook his head.
"No, I haven't seen them, nor do I have an ability like that. But I know they're there. When we sparred earlier, I felt them watching us the whole time."
Sylvrae crossed her arms, her gaze thoughtful.
"Maybe it's just the stress getting to you? I mean, knowing you're about to become king would put pressure on anyone."
James flipped the ace card over, revealing words scrawled on the back:
"Soon your time comes, false king."
"Someone slipped this into my pocket yesterday. I've only just now had the chance to show you,"
James said.
Sylvrae clasped her hands together and placed them on the table, giving him a soft smile.
"James, I'm your personal guard. I won't let anyone hurt you. Or have you forgotten who I am? I'm Sylvrae, the hero who's defeated the strongest of adversaries. That's the name you gave me."
James chuckled, some of the tension easing from his face.
"You're right. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I do have you on my side, after all."
Their conversation was briefly interrupted as the waiter approached. He set down two cups of tea and plates of chicken, mashed potatoes, and bread before quietly walking away.
James took a sip of his tea before speaking again.
"Sylvrae, do you have any updates on the Feather Guild? Especially on Cacophony. She's the biggest threat out of all of them right now."
Sylvrae nodded.
"I've placed a bounty on her like you asked, but other than that, we haven't gotten any news about her whereabouts. Why is she the one worrying you the most? She's not even the strongest in the Feather Guild."
"She might not be the strongest, but she's the smartest. Damn… I just have so much on my plate right now, I don't even know what to prioritize anymore."
"James, you'll be king soon. Focus on that. I'll hunt down Cacophony and make sure I bring you her head."
Sylvrae's voice was calm, but her words carried an edge of determination.
Someone entered the restaurant—a familiar face. James immediately recognized him: Luke Shmichender. Luke walked up to their table, his posture perfect as he looked down at James.
"Prince James, I've been looking all over for you!"
"Oh, Luke. Do you need something?"
Asked James.
Luke nodded.
"I do, Prince James. Your older brother, Jiro, has been getting in my way recently. I was hoping you could, uh—well, you know—tell him to back off."
"Jiro? Is he still ruling the kingdom on the eighth floor?"
Asked James.
Luke nodded.
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but there's not much I can do. He's still a reigning king, and that gives him more authority than me. You'll just have to wait until his son takes the throne."
Luke sighed deeply, his frustration evident.
"Well, that's a shame. Prince James, you're planning on creating a kingdom on the ninety-fourth floor once you've become king, right?"
James nodded, tilting his head slightly.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"I'd recommend waiting—say, twenty-seven years—before even attempting that goal. Reaching the ninety-fourth floor is practically a death wish as things stand. And, to be frank, it might interfere with some of my research."
"Interfere how?"
James asked, his tone firm.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Prince James," Luke replied.
"Look, Luke, I know you're one of the—if not the—greatest minds the tower has ever seen. But I have my priorities. I need to reach Floor Ninety-Four by the next full moon, and I must start building something there within five."
Luke sighed
"Understood"
Luke walked out of the restaurant, and Sylvrae looked at James.
"How would reaching a higher floor interfere with his research? If anything, it should help, we'd find new resources to advance."
James grabbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes, ate, and swallowed before speaking.
"Twenty-seven years? Has Luke lost his mind? In that time, my father advanced the kingdom from the sixty-second floor to the seventy-seventh."
Sylvrae sipped her tea.
"James, you don't need to be better than your father. He sacrificed millions of men to get here."
James looked down at his food.
"I still want to live up to his expectations."
Suddenly, the entire restaurant exploded, and everyone except James and Sylvrae was killed. James was trapped under the rubble, his legs broken.
Covered in dust and smoke, Sylvrae stood and unsheathed her blade. Through the haze, she spotted two stainless crystal robots approaching.
"Puppets?"
she murmured to herself, then remembered James.
"JAMES!"
she screamed, rushing toward him. But before she could reach him, one of the robots kicked her in the back, sending her crashing to the ground.
She hit the floor hard, landing on a burnt corpse. Gripping her sword, Sylvrae glanced up.
"Who sent you?!"
One of the robots replied, its voice cold.
"Our creator's identity shall not be revealed."
Sylvrae stood and, with a surge of power, summoned a bright light that enveloped James. The light lifted him from the rubble and began healing his injuries.
Once James was gently placed back on the ground, Sylvrae prepared to face the robots. With a fierce cry, she dashed toward them.