Every time the bandages on his shoulder were changed, Juanky remembered that night. The assassin's hands, cold as ice. The pain piercing his shoulder. And beyond the sea of blood, those golden eyes burning with fury, staring down at him. He should have been terrified, but for some reason, that face alone didn't frighten him. "[gentle]Looks like the bandages can come off soon." In his usual sleepy voice, Sebas finished wrapping the fresh cloth. His fingertips were gentle, his movements deft. Juanky gave a small bow of his head. "[gentle]Thank you very much, Sebas-san..." "[gentle]No thanks needed. More importantly, today's the big job. Do your best at the ball." At those words, Juanky's chest tightened. Today was the day. The real test of the ki-vision he'd practiced so many times with Luna. The grand hall, Löwensaal, would be filled with countless nobles and envoys. Among them, there might be an assassin in disguise. (*I have to find them.*) Sweat beaded faintly on his palms. *** Night. The royal palace's grand hall, "Löwensaal," was a veritable flood of light. The chandeliers were studded with hundreds of ki-vein stones, casting a pale, divine radiance. The floor was polished marble. Along the walls, eight golden lion statues glared down at the hall, as if alive. The gentle tones of string instruments trembled in the air. Nobles in formal dress and envoys from various nations mingled, chatting with glasses in hand. The rustle of silk dresses, the scent of perfume, the amber wine swirling in crystal glasses. Everything glittered, and to Juanky, it felt like another world entirely. (*A place like this... I'm way too out of place...*) Juanky stood by the wall, squinting intently. Just as Luna had taught him, he focused all his nerves on the space one centimeter outside a person's outline. A serving maid passed by, holding up a silver tray. Juanky stared hard at her back. (*Normal. No distortion.*) Another maid passed. This time, she was pouring wine for a gentleman. (*She's fine too. Her outline is solid.*) One by one, he checked carefully. It was terribly plain, terribly exhausting work. His eyes grew dry. A throbbing pain began to pulse in his temples. Perhaps from the tension, even his right shoulder, only just healed, seemed to ache. (*Focus, I have to focus...*) Even as he chanted this in his mind, the dazzling crowd wore down his nerves. Laughter, chatter, the sound of instruments. Everything mixed together in his head, so noisy it made him want to cry. (*Maybe I can't do this after all.*) Cowardice slowly spread through his heart. Just then. "My, what a bored-looking child." Suddenly, a voice called out from beside him. He looked and saw a noblewoman in a luxurious crimson dress, holding a small plate piled with sweets. Juanky had been staring blankly at one spot, so he must have looked utterly foolish. "Huh, ah, no, that's not..." As Juanky waved his hands in a fluster, the lady chuckled. "[laughing]It's fine, these formal affairs are so stuffy. Here, eat this and cheer up." She pressed the baked sweet she was holding into Juanky's hand without waiting for an answer. Then, she turned and melted back into her circle of friends. Juanky watched her go, dumbfounded, then looked down at the sweet in his hand. It was faintly warm. (*W-what is this...*) His tension eased, just a little. The stiffness left his shoulders. Like Sebas's honey bread, it was a sweet filled with human warmth. But he didn't feel like eating it now, so he just squeezed it tightly. That was when it happened. At the center of the hall, on a throne set upon a raised platform, Leonhart slowly rose to his feet. His long golden hair, reaching down to his waist, caught the light of the ki-vein stones and shone like a river of molten gold. In that instant, the atmosphere in the hall tightened sharply. (*The King...*) Juanky unconsciously held his breath. As always, his mere presence exuded a pressure that dominated his surroundings. Every time his golden eyes glittered, a chill ran down Juanky's spine. But the face from that night flickered in his mind, and it wasn't just fear he felt—it was a strange, complicated feeling. A maid approached Leonhart's side. On her silver tray rested a single goblet filled with wine. The King extended his long fingers to accept it. Unconsciously, Juanky traced the maid's outline. (*Normal. Normal, normal...*) In that instant. His breath stopped. The outside of her outline was wavering. A faint distortion, like oil dropped on water, just as Luna had shown him. Right there, in his line of sight, the air definitely seemed to warp. (*That's it.*) His heart leaped, almost to the point of bursting. (*That's the assassin!*) There was distance. People were in the way. The King was already reaching for the goblet. Even if he ran, he might not make it in time. (*But if I don't move, the King will...*) The baked sweet slipped from Juanky's grasp. It fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. (*I'm scared. I'm scared, but—*) His feet moved. "[scared]Th-that person, it's not them!!" Juanky dashed through the crowd, blind with desperation. His shoulder bumped into people. Someone's wine splashed onto his back. Voices of reproach from the nobles. The orchestra's performance came to an awkward halt. At the edge of his vision, he saw Luna's purple eyes wide with shock. Sebas's sleepy eyes had widened just a fraction. But he couldn't stop now. "[crying]That person, it's not them, I'm telling you it's not them!!" Tears blurred his vision. His feet tangled, threatening to trip him at any moment. Even so, Juanky screamed and threw his own body between the King's hand and the goblet. Crash! With a sharp sound, the goblet was struck to the floor. Red wine splattered across the marble. At the same time. A dull sound, as if tearing through the air. Crack. Leonhart's hand had seized the maid's neck with lightning speed. The usual playful smile was gone from his face. It was expressionless. Expressionless, he simply applied pressure with his fingers, as if snapping a twig. The sound of crushing bone echoed with terrible clarity through the now-silent hall. "Wh-what is..." "An assassin!" "Eek...!" The uproar spread like a tidal wave a moment later. The thing that had taken the form of a maid had already gone limp, collapsing at the foot of a golden lion statue. Blood slowly stained the marble floor. Silence. Royal guards rushed over in a panic and carried the corpse away. The nobles watched the King, and Juanky sprawled on the floor, with eyes mixed with terror and curiosity. Juanky remained collapsed, unable to move. His whole body trembled. He was scared. He hurt. His legs had no strength. (*Did I... do it?*) The gravity of what he had done slowly seeped into his body. When he looked up, he saw the hem of the King's garment, stained with splattered blood. Leonhart slowly turned towards him. Juanky cowered under those golden eyes looking down at him. He might be angry. He might be dragged back to the game room for his insolence. Fear spiraled through his head. However. "[serious]...How interesting." That voice wasn't the usual sweet, cat-like purr. Yet, it wasn't filled with anger either. There was only pure surprise and interest, as if he had found a rare toy. "[serious]I didn't expect you to do that." With his bloodied hand, Leonhart ruffled Juanky's hair roughly. It was violent, yet strangely didn't hurt. It must have been his imagination that the hand seemed to tremble. "[scared]Ah... uh..." Scared, proud, utterly confused—only tears spilled out uncontrollably. He didn't want anyone to see this face. But just for now, he couldn't seem to stop crying. When the chaos finally subsided and awkward music returned to the hall, Juanky was crouched in the shadow of a pillar by the wall. He had no energy left. "[gentle]Here you go, your reward honey bread." A voice fell from above him. Looking up, he saw Sebas standing there, holding out a steaming piece of honey bread. "[sad]...Did I do enough to earn it?" "[gentle]More than enough. Though, it seems I've had to pay an additional reward myself." "[surprised]Huh?" Sebas glanced briefly towards a corner of the hall. There, Luna was watching them with a complicated, yet somewhat relieved expression. When her eyes met Juanky's, she abruptly turned away and buried her face back into a mountain of documents. But just for that instant, the corners of her mouth had softened slightly. Sebas murmured with a sigh. "[sarcastic]'Juanky will definitely do it, but don't push him too hard.' I was thoroughly warned, you see. You're worried about far more than you realize." Lost for words, Juanky looked at Luna again. She was still looking at her documents. But he felt like the tip of her braid was swaying faintly. A warmth spread deep in his chest. "[whispers]...That's weird." He was scared. He trembled. But he did it. Even as a crybaby, he had properly been useful to the people important to him. That fact alone filled him with nothing but pride. *** Late night. The east wing of the royal palace, where the clamor of the ball had vanished like a lie. In the office of the civil official Sebas, there were half-written documents and a single cup of tea, now completely cold. A messenger soldier burst in, out of breath. "[urgent]Sebas-sama, an urgent report!" Sebas received the letter and broke the seal. The moment he read the few lines of text, all the sleepiness vanished from his usually drowsy eyes. The letter read: *'The Parliament of the Republic of Vishar has today resolved to invade the Empire with its regular army. The army is expected to march within three weeks.'* Sebas let out a long, deep breath. "[serious]...Honestly, I didn't think they were the type to stop at mere assassination." The murmur dissolved into the quiet office air, meant for no one's ears. Meanwhile, Juanky was leaning against the window in his room, gazing absently at the quiet night view of the imperial capital. The events of the day replayed in his head. The King's words. Luna's profile. Pride, and then—an indescribable unease, as if something huge had begun to move. (*I smell war.*) Was he overthinking it? The sky was heavily clouded, no stars visible. Far in the western sky, the invisible war banners of the Republic fluttered in the wind.