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Join the ServerThroughout their journey, the group exchanged few words. They walked in silence, surrounded by the dilapidated streets. Though the city’s order was slowly being restored, the vibrant prosperity it knew before the war remained a distant memory.
Led by the lone wolf knight, Gern and his companions traversed the slightly chaotic town. They arrived at a relatively intact noble residence, situated further back from the main thoroughfare.
Evidently, the mansion had been temporarily requisitioned to serve as a command post and quarters for important personnel.
Inside the mansion’s grand hall, Mina sat at a desk, clad in smart, casual attire, engrossed in writing.
A beam of sunlight illuminated her cheek, casting her shadow long across the floor.
A bead of sweat trickled from her forehead, landing on the paper where she wrote.
Observing her deep concentration, the knight felt reluctant to disturb Miss Mina. He cast a meaningful glance at Gern and the others, then quietly retreated from the room.
The four exchanged glances, none daring to interrupt Mina. They simply watched her, lost in thought one moment, then furiously scribbling the next.
Just then, her pensive gaze shifted towards the entrance. Spotting the figures standing by the door, a hint of surprise flickered across her face.
“Oh? When did you all arrive? Please, come in, take a seat! Why didn’t you let me know you were here?”
Mina offered an apologetic smile to the group, then quickly brought over several chairs, gesturing for them to sit.
“Miss Gern, Miss Lilia, I called you here for no other reason than to reward you both for your efforts.”
“Your Highness Mina, please call me Mr. Gern, thank you.”
Gern corrected her softly from the side.
“Hm? It’s fine, it’s all the same.”
“Alright, I’ll continue.”
Gern’s mouth twitched, and he helplessly massaged his forehead.
“The Academy will send people to handle matters here after a while. How about we all return together when they do?”
After the events of the past few days, both Gern and Lilia regarded Mina with a subtly altered gaze.
While Mina hadn’t made any shocking moves since, a certain unease had settled in their hearts.
“Ahem, well… Your Highness Mina, we actually have urgent matters to attend to back at the Academy, so we shouldn’t trouble you any further.”
Gern politely declined, only to see Mina’s eyes narrow slightly. She rose and moved between Lilia and Gern, leaning in slightly to observe their profiles.
“My dear sirs, this humble maiden actually has one more request,” she purred. “I need your help to resolve some internal conflicts within my Fox race.”
Her soft breath brushed against their ears, causing both Lilia and Gern a flicker of discomfort.
“This—”
“Miss Gern, oh no, Mr. Gern, rest assured, you will be amply compensated for your troubles.”
“Fine! I agree!”
Lilia’s eyes widened in shock.
“Since Mr. Gern has agreed, I would like to invite both of you to our Fox race’s ball tonight. Would that be convenient for you?”
Upon hearing the word “ball,” Gern immediately felt disinclined to attend. As a commoner, such an event felt far too high-class for him.
He would rather die than go.
Lilia took in Gern’s reaction, sensing the deep emotional turmoil within him.
A subtle curve appeared on her lips, and as if in a fit of pique, she spoke first.
“Certainly, Miss Mina. Both of us will be there.”
Gern blinked his wide eyes, looking at Lilia with a face full of confusion. He questioned her in his mind:
‘Lilia, I don’t know how to dance, you…’
‘Hmph, who told you to agree so quickly?’
Lilia hummed dismissively, turning her head away as if unwilling to engage in further conversation with Gern.
Gern sighed in resignation, finally nodding his head in agreement to Mina’s invitation.
****
As night fell, the temporarily requisitioned noble residence was meticulously adorned.
While it couldn’t compare to the ultimate luxury of a royal palace ball, in the war-torn border city, it was a rare and magnificent spectacle.
Inside the mansion, crystal chandeliers swayed, casting warm glows, and soothing music permeated the air, temporarily dispelling the lingering gloom of war.
Fox race nobles, military officers, and meritorious individuals gathered, clinking glasses and conversing in hushed tones.
Even some Serpentfolk could be seen among the guests.
It was evident that Mina, as the hostess, had invited Serpentfolk warriors who had participated in resisting Chaos.
Given the tense relations between the two nations, Mina’s gesture seemed rather audacious.
Gern and Lilia held little interest in the ball, opting for simple casual attire, which made them feel somewhat out of place among the other guests.
Both felt a subtle, shared nervousness, entirely due to never having danced together in front of others.
Gern, in particular, was even more anxious. He had never learned to dance, his knowledge of it a complete blank slate.
Lilia, sensing the deep emotions emanating from Gern, firmly grasped his outstretched hand.
“It’s alright, my little Luoya,” she whispered. “We have a soul contract, remember? What’s there to fear about making a mistake?”
Gern nodded noncommittally, yet his internal tension remained. He cast his gaze around, hoping to use the surroundings to alleviate his anxiety.
As his gaze swept the room, it landed on a figure in the corner, and his body instantly stiffened. His blood seemed to freeze in his veins at that moment.
A tall, graceful figure stood quietly by a pillar, holding a glass of crimson wine.
Her long black hair cascaded like a waterfall, and her gray, lifeless eyes, though vacant, were precisely fixed on Gern.
The familiar, yet chilling, arc of her lips, twisted with a morbid fascination—who else could it be but Evelyn?!
‘How could she be here?!’
Gern’s heart pounded wildly, and he instinctively wanted to grab Lilia and flee.
‘Being targeted by that madwoman never boded well!’
Lilia immediately noticed Gern’s unusual behavior. Following his gaze, her cerulean eyes instantly grew cold, as if glazed over with ice.
It was the woman who had clashed with Gern that day.
Lilia, privy to all of Gern’s secrets, naturally recognized the identity of the woman before them.
A Fifth-tier knight, her power was formidable.
Far from retreating, she tightened her grip on Gern’s wrist, subtly raising her chin to meet Evelyn’s gaze with undisguised hostility and defiance.
Evelyn, however, completely ignored Lilia’s hostility. Her eyes seemed to hold only Gern.
She raised the wine glass in her hand, giving a slight nod in Gern’s direction across the crowd. Then, she took a delicate sip, her movements elegant yet imbued with a dangerous undertone.
Gern felt a prickling sensation on his scalp. Yet, as he looked at his current body, a slight sense of calm settled within him.
‘It must be a delusion, or perhaps a mere coincidence,’ he thought. ‘Evelyn couldn’t possibly know I’m the Serpentwoman disguised as Quade.’
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