An entire week of relative mundanity passed by in the blink of an eye.

He’d been a bit concerned with Dame Mordred’s fate given how the trope of someone staying behind to buy time usually ended up. But a few hours after Reivan arrived at the embassy, she had shown up with a grand total of eleven heads swinging from her hands.

According to her, Arkhanian Ascendants kept on coming, so she kept on killing them until they stopped. Nobody got to scry the crime scene’s past in the end, so the truth of what happened there remained a mystery to the Tower for now. And because all the silver cloaks died without knowing who killed them, those who scry the dead’s memories wouldn’t get much information either.

She also stayed in the area to observe and reported that his squadmates were understandably devastated by what they thought happened to him and Mira.

Alini passed out from shock when she saw the crime scene. And Aldimir adamantly looked through the ruins for Clover Salwyn despite the others telling him to stop. In the end, the usually perverted young man had to be knocked out to get him out of the area, as the others feared the possibility of the culprit remaining nearby.

Surprisingly, Kantor took it well, stepping up as the squad’s pillar of rationality after their officers up and vanished. As for Inaria, she seemed a bit distant—but with Dame Mordred scrutinizing her, she couldn’t hide her trembling hands by simply stuffing them into the pockets of her robes.

In any case, about a hundred Ascendant battlemages arrived eventually, long after the time limit for scrying passed. One of them was the Gold Cloak and he was, in Mordred’s words, “very cranky” about the loss of yet another spirit king seed. Inaria and the others were interrogated less than gently, but were ultimately let off because many witnesses in the village testified to their innocence.

And besides, the scale of the destruction and the missing silver cloaks were enough of a sign that this wasn’t something a bunch of first-years could accomplish.

Ultimately, the ruined wasteland produced to stage Clover and Mira’s deaths was destroyed a second time by the Gold Cloak’s “cranky tantrum”. Dame Mordred was understandably not crazy enough to do anything when a hundred Ascendant battlemages were around, so she’d retreated after a job well done.

And that was how she eventually ended up back in the embassy, showing off her severed head collection to Reivan and asking if he wanted help starting his own—an invitation he respectfully declined.

As it turned out, she initially planned to leave the heads in random cities all over the republic just to fuck with the Gold Cloak’s head. But she refrained from doing so because the battlemage’s temper tantrum was enough to satisfy her. She promised to do it next time, however. But by then, the heads she possessed would have already dissolved into energy, so she complained about the need to replenish her dwindling stock.

With all that said, a knight of Mordred’s skillset couldn’t remain idle for long, so she left with an excited smile shortly after. Reivan blissfully remained in the embassy with Jiji, trying hard to re-acclimate to his own body again. He was so out of touch that even his little sister stole a few bouts from him when they sparred, much to his frustration.

Reivan wasn’t an unsportsmanlike asshole, so he gave credit to her growth. But he definitely noticed how dulled his fighting instincts were. If Helen wasn’t in the middle of some mysterious training with his mother, she would have mopped the floor with him ten out of ten times. It was, in a way, amazing what a few months of inactivity did to him. His daily routine had been understandably messed up because of his duties.

Valter theorized that it had more to do with how he was stuck in a body that lacked his original body’s physical capabilities for so long. The guardian knight had also spent extended periods of inaction whenever he attempted Transcendence, but his instincts had never dulled the same way Reivan’s did.

Fortunately, things were going well. Or as well as they could, at least. Getting the shit beaten out of him by a cat-eared girl one year younger was excellent motivation to not suck. Her smugness about each victory was like a steroid or that shot of energy someone listening to Phonk music got when they heard the beat drop.

Gwen was there too. And despite being the administrative prodigy that she was, she was still a knight. As such, she enjoyed a good spar when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately, she was also far too strong for Reivan’s current state, especially when she made use of her precognitive special ability. So rather than a spar, he ended up roleplaying as her punching bag. She may not have looked bulky, but the force behind her punches was cataclysmic due to her mastery of the [Earth] attribute and its gravity-controlling aspect.

All things considered, things were progressing smoothly. He wished he could say the same thing about Mira.

“So. She’s still refusing food?” Reivan after, once again, getting beaten up by Gwen in a spar. Luckily, his healing prowess made sure none of the bruises and broken bones would stay that way.

“Affirmative. She’s refusing all meals, throwing it back to the knights delivering it,” she recounted while using a towel to dry her sweaty hair.

Unintentionally, Reivan’s gaze ran down her tight form. She wasn’t wearing a uniform at the moment, but a tight tank top and those absolutely fantastic breeches that female knights preferred. It was one of the reasons why he kept on sparring with her even though the current gap between their conditions placed her far above him.

‘Damn.’

A white chick flew over and glared at him, however. This was Grace, the [Light] attribute swan-type spirit beast he’d given Gwen as a souvenir. She was in her energy-saving form and was clearly quite protective of her new mistress. They had a true bond, so it was par for the course. Gwen was apparently a very tantalizing partner for Grace, and the spirit dew pills made from his blood were a very alluring resource that made it impossible for the spirit beast to refuse.

In any case, a true contract had been formed just like that and now Grace was clingy toward the relatively aloof Gwen.

He shooed Grace away while wishing she wouldn’t tell Gwen he’d been leering a little. Really, it was only a little. “It’s been a week… I thought she’d fold faster. But I guess not.”

“She’s surprisingly determined.” Gwen slung the towel over her shoulder and leaned on the blunted spear she’d been using as a handicap in their spars. “I believe it’s time for you to go and see her. Personally.”

“You really think so…?”

Given how he betrayed Mira, Reivan thought it was a good idea to refrain from meeting her directly this past week, giving her space and time to calm down. Or at least hate his guts a little less. She was assigned an exquisite room and served the finest cuisine, but she’d rejected their hospitality in every way. Reports even mentioned her sleeping on the floor, refusing to use the comfortable amenities she was provided.

That had started a week ago, and Mira hadn't eaten a single thing nor did she drink a single drop of water since. The only aspect of her room she interacted with was the bathroom, and she seemed to still be bathing at least. But she insisted on using the same clothes she arrived with instead of the ones they offered—that said, she had multiple pairs to cycle through since her spatial ring wasn't confiscated.

‘Fine… I guess there’s nothing to it. I’ll go see my damsel in distress.’

Reivan sighed and stood up. He would strike while the iron was hot. But first, he should pick out a peace offering of some kind.

"The bath is ready, Your Highness,” Gwen reminded him with aptly concealed distaste. "If you would be so kind."

Correction, he should bathe first.

----------------------------------------

Since he was in a safe place now, Reivan had summoned both Dom and Dippy, letting the wolf and the… black-furred blob-thing roam around the embassy freely.

Dom was obviously forbidden from going after Mira or anywhere near her. The giant wolf had immediately sensed the presence of worthy prey, but Reivan didn’t allow him to. And strangely enough, Dom reluctantly acquiesced. This was because, apparently, Reivan was the “leader” of the pack after he defeated Dom. And that meant what Reivan said goes. But one of these days, a challenge would be offered once again.

That was evidently something he had to watch out for.

But when he presented the spirit dew pills and told Dom he could produce it infinitely, the wolf reluctantly admitted to a hundred-year truce. Now, he was in a constant state of hibernation because of the pills he ate. Dom would wake up once every ten hours, eat three pills, then fall asleep again. His newest canine companion certainly wasn't winning any congeniality contests with this type of reclusive lifestyle.

Dippy, on the other hand, was a curious little blob that explored everywhere, utterly ignoring the pills he showed it. If the knights guarding the embassy hadn’t stopped it and if it wasn’t tethered to Reivan, Dippy would have likely gone out into the city. Maybe it would have gotten run over by a magitech carriage or something.

Reivan rarely got to see it these days, even when he knew where it was at all times, but Dippy just so happened to be lingering on the way to Mira’s chambers. As such, he picked it up while he was at it.

To his amusement, Dippy was trying to gnaw on a troubled knight’s leg. It didn’t hurt, however, so the knight just let it be.

“Don’t bother people like that, okay? They have important jobs to do.” Reivan scolded it, holding it in front of his face with both hands. "Or else, I’ll bring you around with me all the time.”

“Wee!” Dippy squealed, its beady little red eyes staring at him with confusion. It apparently didn’t know what he meant by bothering people. And it also didn’t particularly hate the idea of him bringing it along all the time.

Reivan playfully squished it, finding the texture and elasticity satisfying. The victim of his squishing squealed in happiness and mentally told him that he liked what was happening. Its mouth momentarily opened, jaw slack and revealing rows of serrated teeth before snapping shut.

Sensing its desire, Reivan pulled out an apple, holding it over Dippy’s mouth. Almost immediately, his entire hand was enveloped by the black blob-thing’s mouth, teeth gnashing on his skin before it retreated with a squeal of joy.

“Want more?” he asked as he wiped his saliva-coated hand on its soft ebony fur. It made him recall a few days ago, when Dippy was still careful not to accidentally nick him with its very sharp chompers. That all stopped when he demonstrated just how durable he really was.

Nothing Dippy could do would hurt him—unless it went for his eye or something.

After a bit of walking and seventeen premium-grade apples from a famous orchard in Shinobu City, they finally arrived in front of Mira’s room. At Reivan’s orders, the room was fit for a member of the royal family to stay in. Honestly, it was structured a bit like a high-end apartment—complete with a bathroom, a dining area, and an enclosed space that housed a king-sized bed along with a few other amenities.

There were also a few adjoining rooms for guards or servants to stay in. This was where a few knights kept an eye on Mira, making sure she didn’t kill herself or break the furniture. Reivan had also informed them that Mira could melt floors, so the guards were watching out for that too.

Naturally, all of said knights were female. Of which there was strangely a lot of in the knighthood these days.

"Hello." Reivan knocked on the door and spoke aloud. “It’s me. I’m opening the door in a minute so if you're naked or something, make yourself presentable.”

There was no response, which was as expected. Mira hadn’t said a thing since she woke up, according to her observers. She didn’t even manifest her spirit beasts—though nobody could be sure if they weren’t around, just not materialized. For all he knew, Fawks was right next to him, dancing whatever dance foxes did.

When a full minute passed, Reivan knocked again before granting an extra five seconds just in case. Maybe he was being hyper-aware of any romcom-like plot developments, but it didn't hurt to be sure. After enough time went by, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Only to be met by a burst of magic power heading right for his face.

To Reivan, whose perception and reflexes went beyond the natural, the light practically traveled in slow motion. As such, he had plenty of time to dodge or respond. But instead, he leaned forward to deliberately shorten the spell’s travel time, taking it straight to the face.

He ended up being blinded by the light for a moment but was otherwise fine. The Penetration Spell she just used was a very efficient spell of considerable lethality for its easiness and mana cost, but it wasn’t quite meant to go up against people of his caliber.

No armor was needed and no qi was focused on protecting him. The spell simply connected with the tip of his nose and caused it to wiggle a little bit, but otherwise bounced off before fizzling out.

Reivan gently placed Dippy down on the floor before smiling at the hostile lady in the room. Then he spoke in fluent Arkhanian so they could actually converse. “Good morning to you too. I see you’re putting the wand I didn’t confiscate to good use. But really, though. A murder attempt already? I didn't know you were such a violent person.”

“What do you want?” she rasped, her once beautiful voice coming out in dry gasps as she kept the tip of her wand pointed at him.

After a week of forcefully submitting herself to bad living conditions, Mira Serandina was understandably worse for wear. She looked pale, her soft cheeks were just a little less meaty, and there were dark circles under her eyes that were different from the ones she usually got due to a lack of sleep.

All things considered, she still looked clean and her clothes were neat. Her hair looked a little silkier than it once was, strangely enough. Must've been the soap, he thought.

“I heard you haven’t been eating. Or drinking water.” Reivan didn’t draw too close, closing the door behind him and choosing a nearby sofa to park his ass on.

Sensing an opportunity for more food, Dippy happily hopped into his lap and opened its mouth so he could stuff it with very expensive things. He gladly gave it another apple, though he was slightly concerned with how much it was depleting his stock. They were fantastic snacks and he enjoyed them a lot. But when the blob-thing asked so nicely, how could he refuse? Well, he could always just eat something else. No harm done, now that he thought about it.

“I don’t accept handouts from the enemy, much less a bastard like you.” Mira glared at him, though her gaze momentarily lingered on Dippy, no doubt because of its similarities to Boop, the white version of the eldritch blob. “For all I know, there could be mind-controlling crap in there.”

“I suppose that’s a valid concern. Though I could only wish we had such means at our disposal. It would make things a lot easier for us if we could just brainwash people by feeding them. We could also simply force people into eating this hypothetical brainwashing substance instead of coaxing would-be victims into not starving themselves to death.”

She snorted, crossed her arms, and refused the logic behind his words. “I won’t eat anything you people give me.”

“I heard some of the dishes were your favorites.”

“I don't care.”

“There are dire consequences to fasting for so long, you know? You are slightly stronger than ordinary mundane people, but still.”

“I don’t care,” she repeated, her grip on the wand tightening as she donned a brave face. “Where’s Clover?”

Reivan hummed in thought. “Now, who was that again…? Would you be so kind as to remind me?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Mira screeched, the tip of her wand glowing menacingly. She must have already realized nothing she did could hurt him, but tried to act tough anyway. A common response for cornered rats. “He’s the man you impersonated!”

“Ah, I see. You seem very concerned about him. Who was he to you anyway?”

“Answer the question!”

“Well.” Reivan chuckled. “It seems we are at an impasse. I want you to eat and drink. You want me to answer questions. While I see no problem with answering your inquiries, I can sense that you’re not very receptive to my own wants. As such, let’s make a deal.”

With a snap of his fingers, a tray of donuts appeared on a nearby table. Dippy tried to jump for it, but Reivan stopped it immediately. It struggled though, but it wasn't quite strong enough to break free.

“You eat one of those pastries over there,” Reivan said, lazily motioning at the tray. “And I will truthfully answer as much as I am allowed. Do we have terms?”

Mira grimaced and averted her gaze, making it clear she wasn’t taking the offer.

But again, Reivan hadn’t expected her to. So instead, he took out multiple trays of freshly baked donuts and laid them out right next to the first one. Then, while holding down a rabid Dippy, he procured a fan made of peacock feathers.

Actually, he stole it from his sister when she wasn't looking and it seems she forgot about it entirely, but that wasn't important.

A few seconds of fanning later, the scent of donuts filled the room. Of course, there was no way ordinary donuts could permeate a chamber as large as this one with their scent at such speed. And it was correct, seeing as the donuts were specifically mixed with materials that released an intensely tantalizing smell, like vanilla extract among other things.

Reivan was also receiving the aid of a knight with the [Wind] attribute—which was, honestly, the largest contributor. The fan he took out was purely to piss her off.

Mira groaned quietly, but remained stubborn, not even giving the donuts a glance. In fact, she moved farther away, squatting on a spot as far removed from him as possible.

“These are called donuts and they’re a common pastry in my homeland.” Reivan took one and deftly kept it away from Dippy’s long tongue. He held it up to his eye and peeked through the hole in the middle. “Kids love these. Honestly, I do too. And these were made by a very talented baker we brought over from the kingdom. Before we had to ship him back, that is.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I. Don’t. Care,” Mira snarled.

“Is that so? Well. Don’t mind me, then.”

Reivan took a deliberate bite and chewed very slowly, making a point of producing noises of enjoyment. It was delicious, though. He wasn't necessarily faking. So he just had to play up his reactions rather than pretend. “Mm… Delicious.”

“Wee!” Dippy cried out in betrayal, its beady red eyes trained on the donut. Since he had taken a bite, it was reluctant to snatch it out of his hand. But even then, it really wanted the donut.

As a reward for its good behavior, he gave it the rest of the one he was holding before picking up another for himself. This cycle repeated for a while, with him taking a bite before giving the rest to his ever-hungry pet—or rather, his second ever-hungry pet.

‘Fuck, I just realized there’s two of them now…’

The first one liked to sleep a lot though, which was good for his expenses.

“Mhmm… Yummy.”

“Wee…!”

“This is so tasty, right Dippy? Ah, this flavor's nice too. Here, try it.”

“Wee!”

“You like it, huh? Want some more?”

“Wee?”

“Yes, you can try eating three at once. Actually, keep your mouth open. It's time to do some limit testing. Lemme see how many I can fit...”

Reivan then made a game out of seeing how many donuts fit in Dippy’s mouth, dumped tray after tray into it.

In the end, the answer was never found because he ran out of donuts.

“Oh, dear! It seems I am out of donuts. Whatever shall I do?” Reivan theatrically cried out, slapping his forehead and causing Dippy to go into a bit of a panic. “I know! I can just snap my fingers and magic them from thin air, just like all princes can do!”

He did just that, and tray after tray of different pastries appeared before him, filling the air with their appetizing aroma.

“There we go. Now we can get right back to—”

Reivan’s one-man-one-blob play was interrupted by the sound of a stomach growling. It wasn't particularly loud, but he had very good hearing and the way he stopped talking made it very clear to the culprit that he'd heard. Besides, after the amount of donuts he and Dippy ate, it was obvious who was still hungry in the room.

Mira, her ears blushing crimson, bit her lip and stood up. With a glare that a certain subset of people would pay good money to receive, she stomped over to the sofa opposite him and picked up a random pastry. She then stuffed it into her mouth and tried very hard not to look like she was enjoying it.

Afterward, she took the glass of water he left for her and slammed it down on the table. “There. Now answer the question. Where is Clover and what have you done to him?”

“I believe you only ate one, so I’ll only answer the first one.” Reivan smiled. “Currently, Clover Salwyn is in an underground city in Aizen. They're new, but they're great places to live.”

Mira grimaced, took a cream puff, and stuffed it into her mouth. Before she even finished chewing, she asked the question again. “Whaff haf foo funn foo fim?”

“We have granted him a home of respectable size and provided him a modest stipend to financially support himself and whoever he wishes to support.”

The strangeness of his answer must have irked her in some way, because her grimace only deepened. Swallowing, she drank another cup of water before wiping her lips with her thumb. “You’re hiding something.”

"I won't deny it." Reivan nodded. “I am, in fact, hiding a lot of things."

"Bastard..."

"Since it seems you'll have a lot of questions, let's make another deal. If you manage to consume an entire tray's worth of pastries, with some glasses of water sprinkled here and there so you don't choke to death, you get unlimited questions for the rest of the hour that I’m here. How's that?"

Mira clicked her tongue but hastily brought pastry after pastry into her mouth, obviously enjoying them but schooling her expression to seem indifferent. It was a good ten minutes before she was done, seemingly full of unhealthy junk food. But at least she wasn't about to die of hunger any time soon.

“The deal,” she said. “I’ve held up my end.”

“Indeed you have. Now, ask.”

“For how long have you been impersonating Clover?”

Reivan grinned. “Before he even stepped foot in the Tower.”

“...Huh?” Mira’s brows shot up. “So… So the person I know has been…”

“It has been me all along."

"Wha... That can't be! The Tower has really deep background checks! You can't fool me!"

Reivan plucked out a meat bun from one of the trays and broke it in half, giving one part to Dippy. "Clover Salwyn is a real person and a talented young mage who would have benefited the republic had he been nurtured. Unfortunately, we helped him cure his mother’s illness when Arkhan did nothing. As such, he was more than happy to cooperate with my plans to infiltrate the Spirit Tower in exchange for a quiet life in Aizen, together with his mother, the love of his life, and his in-laws. Maybe they'll get a dog, one of these days.”

“But… But the spells…”

“I learned them all in my spare time. Actually, I have reason to believe that I know more spells than you do. What with all the books Aizen have stolen from dead battlemages throughout the centuries.”

Mira clenched her fists. “Then… Then…”

Reivan smiled sadly, but chose not to lie. “I was genuinely attracted to you to a certain extent, but not enough to want to seduce you. That was because I wanted to earn your trust—which would increase the chance that you would agree to go overseas with me. Then we would abduct you like we did last week. Ultimately, as you can see, that ended up not being necessary because the Tower foolishly allowed you to leave with a mere three Ascendant guards.”

Ignoring the hurt expression on her face, Reivan then began explaining why she was necessary at all. Going into how the spirit king seeds worked and how he slowly pieced it all together—though of course, he didn’t mention his special ability. Some people would have berated him for revealing such information to a potential enemy, but at this point, there was nothing Mira could do. And besides, in a week or two, the attack on the Sage King would commence—making everything he was telling her worthless knowledge.

Mira listened to it all with a pensive look on her face, her hands lying uselessly on her lap. He didn’t know if she was still processing his words or if she wasn’t listening at all, but he kept on going anyway.

But just as he finished, she spoke with a voice devoid of hope. “I see. So? What’s going to happen to me now? Are you going to kill me, then? If you are, then just get on with it. Why keep me alive for so long.”

“That will depend on you.” Reivan reclined and crossed his legs. “I don’t want to kill you though.”

She scoffed, momentarily looking him in the eye like he was dirt. “I get it. You want to keep me around as a plaything, don’t you? Gonna rape me? Pass me around like a rag?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed, accidentally letting Dippy go. "What the fuck!"

The blob immediately surged forth to devour the rest of the pastries Mira hadn’t eaten, attracting Mira’s curiosity.

“I can’t possibly believe you. But never mind that.” Mira pointed at Dippy, who had voraciously eaten two trays worth of pastries in just a few seconds. “Who is that?”

“This is Dippy.” Reivan flicked his wrist nonchalantly. “I made a contract with him back when I entered the Sanctuary.”

“Hah? If you’ve been the Clover Salwyn I know from the start, isn’t Sen your spirit beast?”

He nodded. “She is. But I caught Sen with an orb. Dippy is with me because it wants to. Right, Dippy?”

The eldritch black blob stopped eating to bounce up and down on the remnants of its gluttony. “Wee! Wee!”

“See? He loves me. Or rather, the food I give him. In fact, he only formed a permanent bond with me because I gave him the crappy jerky the Tower gave out as rations.”

“Pff.” Mira accidentally giggled, covering her mouth immediately after and pretending it never happened. “It’s… It’s very similar to mine…”

“That’s because they’re the same species. Apparently, they have an ability that makes them change appearance depending on the beings they’re around with. You mentioned Boop being gray when you were young, right?”

“I see. That makes sense. This poor creature must look like this because it’s near you all the time.”

Reivan’s cheek twitched. “Okay, first of all, Dippy was like this when I saw it. Second, we’ve been apart all this time because I was afraid the Tower would find out about my additional spirit beast. Third, it’s a bit much to assume black is a bad color, no? That's really racist... No, colorist...?”

“Whatever.” Mira crossed her arms and harrumphed, looking away as if he was a demon that corrupted her just by being looked at. “I don’t trust you at all. Kill me, rape me, or do whatever. I can’t stop you anyway.”

‘I kinda expected this, but she really hates my guts!’

He’d looked at it earlier, but thought that it wouldn’t hurt to check her Favor again after their conversation.

Favor: (Distrust / Hostility)-65 / 100

‘Oh. Well, that’s not as bad as I thought, actually.’

All his work raising it had gone to waste, in a way. But as a wise man once said, the opposite of love wasn’t hate, it was indifference. The fact that she disliked him so much was a measure of just how strong her previous feelings were.

Well, that was how he wanted to interpret it, at least. He could be wrong. Girls were hard and didn't really make sense to him most of the time. Even Valter hadn’t completely figured out the female psyche and he was a thousand years old. Trying had merit but any man saying they completely understood women were either lying or were women in disguise.

Of course, if one spent enough time with one, then a man could accumulate a decent level of understanding. But that wasn’t the case right now.

“There are a number of things that can happen to you.” Reivan popped some food into his mouth, letting the ensuing silence overcome the room before swallowing. Only then did he continue. “One, the Tower somehow gets you back and the Sage King survives. In which case, Fawks will ultimately be devoured by another spirit beast. Probably the Sage King’s spirit beast. But it’s also likely that she’ll be eaten by some other spirit king seed that’s been alive for a long time.”

Mira clenched her fist. “All this stuff about spirit king seeds… They’re a bit too far-fetched.”

“Well-founded doubt. But I believe you’ve mentioned before that the Tower seems to be placing special care of you.”

“That’s…”

“Remember Lageton? A silver cloak was worried sick about you. In particular, she was concerned with your Spirit Beast, no?”

“E-Even so—”

“And do you really think Aizen would have done all this without being sure? Do we seem that incompetent to you?”

Mira gulped, seemingly starting to believe. “Let’s say that it’s real… What do you intend to do to me?”

“Well.” Reivan hummed in thought and let her stew in suspense for a few moments before answering. “There are voices calling for your death. You’re a variable, after all. We would rather remove the chances of the Sage King making use of you permanently. And by that, I mean you die.”

She stiffened, but seemed to master herself quickly after by taking a deep breath. “And yet I’m alive.”

“And yet, you’re alive,” he repeated with a bot of his head.

“Why?”

“Because I have a spirit king seed too.” Reivan chuckled, causing her to grip her wand tightly. “And there’s also the possibility of using you as bait to lure out the Sage King.”

Mira gulped when she realized what his words implied. “You plan to kill the Sage King…”

“Indeed. There’s a whole plan for it. A plan I won’t be telling you, that is.”

“...And after?”

Reivan regarded her calmly before sighing. “After, I will have my spirit beast devour yours. Then you’ll be free to go. If you want, I can even take you in as a concu—”

“Like hell, I will,” she instantly said. "Eat shit."

“Yeah, didn't think so...” He laughed, picking up Dippy, who’d cleansed the table of anything edible. “I suppose you wouldn’t like that anymore, given everything that’s happened.”

“Of course. Who would continue admiring a piece of trash like you?”

Mira then began unloading a string of curses and expletives that amazed him because she was quite creative. There were some that he couldn’t quite understand, like being the son of what was probably an animal he didn’t know or the lint under the testicles of yet another creature he didn’t know about.

In any case, Reivan spent the next dozen minutes letting her finish before laying out his ultimatum.

“Very soon, I will obtain possession of your parents.”

“What…” Mira’s face fell. “You wouldn’t…”

“Relax. I’m actually doing you a favor. After the Sage King’s death, the empire is going to begin its invasion. And where do you live again? Right. The northern part of the republic, right next to the Argonia Empire. It’ll obviously be struck first. So, you see? I’m saving your family from a tragedy they will never see coming.”

She bit her lip. “You say that you’re doing me a favor, but they’re your hostages, aren’t they? To make me do what you want!”

“Exactly. So I sincerely ask for your cooperation. No more of this…” Reivan gestured at her and then to the rest of the room’s interior. “Hard-headedness. Or whatever it is you call what you’ve been doing. Eat properly. Drink properly. Sleep properly. Dress properly. Do this, and your family will be treated well when we extract them.”

Mira pursed her lips, and remained silent. No longer did she have the guts to cuss him out, but the hate behind her eyes had yet to abate.

‘Wow, she really hates me.’

Reivan was just about to check her Favor again, but stopped himself. It was pointless. He was quite obviously human-shaped dog feces in her eyes.

“You know…” he scratched his head. “I’m not your enemy, Mira.”

“Don’t call me so familiarly.”

“There is another outcome.” Reivan uncrossed his legs, slowly stroking Dippy’s soft fur. “An outcome where Fawks doesn’t get devoured by my spirit beast or the Tower’s seeds.”

Mira looked at him skeptically. “What do you…”

“I mean, it would be better for Aizen to have two spirit beasts capable of advancing through the devouring of spirit king seeds instead of just one. At least, that's my excuse.”

Reivan took a deep breath and sighed.

“What I mean,” he said. “is that you should join the kingdom’s side. Or at least stop being on the Tower’s side. If you do, Fawks will survive. You and your family can relocate to Aizen. Or Lageton, if you hate our people's guts. I can even grant you free access to that library that you said you wanted to see. Plus a large stipend so you won’t ever have to work to support yourself. You can live the life of a slacker for the rest of your life.”

“That…”

"Mira, I can give you everything you have ever wanted. And more. If you just cooperate."

Mira shifted in her seat, her brows furrowed in thought. “That’s way too good to be true. There’s a catch. There has to be.”

Reivan shook his head and raised both hands. “No, there’s no catch. And before you ask, no, the offer doesn’t come with the condition to marry me or provide… uh, sexual favors and whatnot. You’ll be under constant watch, but as long as you live quietly, you’ll be allowed to do whatever you want.”

His offer was quite unexpected, it seemed, because Mira was at a loss for words.

“Think about it,” Reivan said as he stood up, then he knelt down next to her. She twitched in surprise before trying to scoot away, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Make the right choice, Mira. I’m not your enemy. And Aizen isn’t some evil nation—we just really love our country and can’t tolerate some old bastard growing powerful enough to destroy everything that our ancestors have left us.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but couldn’t muster much strength given her foolish lifestyle choices in the past week. But to a certain extent, it seemed his words had some effect.

And that was all that mattered.

‘It won't be like last time.’

Reivan recalled Maya, the problematic girl he had to kill in the Sanctuary.

That time, he didn’t have the leeway to even try to save her or come up with a way where she survived.

But this time was different.

Now he had the time to think and plan. He could set the board in a way advantageous to him. There were people all around him to ask for counsel or direct aid. Communication was within his reach, allowing him to make sure his own actions wouldn't ruin other national-level plans.

Mira didn’t have to end up like Maya. He could get what he wanted, what the country needed, and save himself from slaying someone he formed a connection with. Because when given the choice of doing what was right and what was easy, Reivan wanted to be a person who chose the former.

Even if future circumstances forced him to take paths that could be interpreted as evil.

“Mira.” Reivan stared deeply into her trembling eyes. “It’s still me. At some point, I think the Clover you knew was more me than him. The person you shared those fun times with? That’s me. It always was.”

“Liar…” Mira muttered, her blue eyes still locked onto his own.

“Look, I’m just a lot more handsome and taller now. And maybe less cranky and snarky too. That’s quite literally the only difference. Believe me.” He tightened his grip. “Not all of it was a lie.”

She bit her lip and averted her gaze. “How can I be sure…”

“I don’t know. I’m actually pretty stumped on that part.” Reivan chuckled, scratching his head and moving to sit right next to her. “The only thing I can think of is to prove it over time. Through actions.”

“Actions…”

“Here’s the first one.” Reivan placed a box on the table and pried it open, revealing dozens of pills, each one emanating a faint purple vapor. “Spirit Dew Pills. They’re better than the potions they gave us. The spirit beast only sleeps for ten hours and you can even feed these to spirit beasts directly. Fawks will love them.”

Mira peered down at the box and was just about to say something when a red fox appeared out of nowhere to snatch the box out of the table, bringing it to the corner of the room.

“Well, there’s proof. Kind of.” He gestured at Fawks, who carefully swallowed three pills seemingly without asking permission from Mira, given how she’d almost jumped out of her seat to stop the beast. “Think about it, I wouldn’t be strengthening Fawks if I planned to have my spirit beast eat her, right?”

“That’s true… But you could still be trying to trick me…”

Reivan could only chuckle sheepishly at that, because she was right. “Like I said, I guess only time will tell.”

With that, he let go of her hand and stood up, smoothing out the edges of his clothes before walking slowly toward the door. “Remember, take care of yourself. And from now on, you’re allowed out of your room as long as there aren’t any visitors.”

“Wha—Really?” she squeaked in surprise.

“Yes, yes. Oh, and I almost forgot…” Reivan turned around just as he reached the door. “While your parents and loved ones will be evacuated to save them from the coming imperial invasion, there is plenty of room to bring over some personal effects. Do you have any sentimental possessions that you wish to be retrieved?”

Mira’s brows shot up for a beat before she turned away. “I… There’s no need to do that...”

“Really?” He smiled, trying to look reassuring. “We have hundreds of the highest-grade spatial storage rings, so we can literally bring your entire house if we wanted. Piece by piece, that is. A few items are no trouble at all.”

“...Then, there’s a box under my bed…”

“Box under the bed. Alright. Any more?”

Mira clenched her fingers and lowered her gaze. “There is a really old stuffed rabbit in the wardrobe by my bed…”

‘A stuffed toy. How cute.’

Reivan nodded and mentally noted it down for later. “Mira.”

She looked up. “...What?”

“I’m not your enemy. And I never will be. As long as you cooperate. So please cooperate.”

Leaving those words behind, Reivan turned around and left, but not before taking one last parting glance at her Favor.

Favor: (Uncertainty) 43 / 100

‘It’s still low and I'm not even sure if that's positive, but it’s a great improvement.’

Reivan closed the door while thinking about how to raise it higher. Everything he’d said was true. He truly didn’t want to be her enemy and fully intended to make good on his promises as long as she didn't cause trouble.

As for the romance they could have had, Reivan didn’t see it going anywhere. His face wasn’t blessed with skin thick enough to bear the shame of still wanting her affection after he’d essentially tricked her for months.

He wouldn’t apologize, because he’d done it for a reason. But even so, he would reach the heights of shamelessness if he continued pursuing her at this point. At most, he hoped they could be awkward friends.

Realistically, however, she would cut ties after things settled down.

‘At least I didn’t have to kill her in cold blood.’

A grim silver lining, but a silver lining nonetheless. His heart was thankful for it.