I crouch down in my small bedroom, the cool floorboards pressing against my knees. My M4 rifle feels heavy and comforting in my hands as I peer through the keyhole, watching as a group of soldiers in blue uniforms march through the hallway outside. Their movements are confident and intimidating like they're not afraid of anything.

The reason why they are here is that the two sides agree to negotiate. Those two twin military officers will be the observer and middle-man in this negotiation. Personally, I think this is only a ruse to regroup and rearm each side.

I let out a sigh and lower my M4, resting it on my bed next to me. As much as I love developing and crafting new firearms, I know that peace is the most important thing. Without it, I doubt I'll ever be able to fulfill my dream of building a fighter jet.

The harsh reality of life on Earth and this world is that no nation can truly know peace without being prepared for war. Even Switzerland, a country known for its commitment to neutrality, understands the importance of being able to defend itself.

Their defensive doctrine can be summarized as a stern warning to any would-be invaders: "if you try to come through here, we will fight back with all our might. You may eventually win, but it will come at a great cost to you. It won't be worth it."

Or, in Latin, “Si vis pacem, armis parare.”

Rachel then touches my shoulder, “What does that mean?”

I then answer, “Neo-pacifism. If you want peace, prepare with arms.”

Rachel then further scratches her head even further. I doubt Rachel knows much about politics, mainly because she is more intrigued by learning science and alchemy magic than politics. I shouldn’t be surprised, our father isn’t exactly fond of teaching us politics either.

I don’t know whether to take it as my father wants to keep us out of the family’s affair or our father doesn’t want a woman or girl to take care of business in his family. Personally, I want to believe that it’s the former even though culture dictates that the latter is the true reason.

I peek at my back, looking at Rachel that kept smiling and giggling, a huge contrast from last night when the cannons and rifles are thundering last night. Well, I guess this is it, no need to worry about further attacks. For now, I can continue doing what I do best, making weapons and guns with Albert.

No need to carry the MH rifle or hug the M4 while I’m sleeping, I can return back to the peaceful slow life as the daughter of nobility. I already have plans for more firearms, even armor, but for now, I prefer to have peace. I also want to study magic more.

I think it’s safe to head outside. Innocently, I put my hand on the door lever and pull it in my direction to open the door towards the hallway. I step out of the room alongside Rachel on my side. Both of us are unarmed, unlike the protocols of lockdown suggest.

I don’t know why Rachel follows me. Is she really curious about the situation? Nevertheless, even a stranger will have an idea that she is really happy about the changing condition for the better. Soldiers in blue uniforms fill the hallway alongside some mercenaries in different uniforms.

Some are wearing whites, and some of the others are black or even gray. None of the mercenaries wears blue uniforms. It is perhaps to differentiate them from the regular Aldurian army. I continue walking until I arrive at the front of my father’s office.

A lot of shouting comes from inside the room. I doubt the discussion is going well at all. However, Rachel crosses her hands, probably praying for the safety of herself and our family. Negotiation with a lot of shouting won’t end up well.

I then put my hand on Rachel’s shoulder, “We should get back into our room, or at least, somewhere far away from these soldiers.”

“C’mon, Helen, they won’t bite,” Rachel puts my hand away from her shoulder.

“Yes, they won’t bite, but I doubt they like us around,” I notice some of the soldiers are looking at me with grim and grudging expressions as if they don’t like me at all even though I haven’t met them whatsoever. Are they jealous of us?

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I then push Rachel away from the room with both of my hands pushing her away from the front of my father’s office. Next stop, library, as usual. Rachel's feet are against my push, but my strength makes sure that she moves out of the front of the room.

Opening the white door of the library, I shove Rachel inside and close the door. She sits down on one of the chairs, and I notice two people that I don’t expect to meet whatsoever sitting down in front of one another. Those two people are our teachers, the dark elf and the materialmancer.

“Ah, young missus, what brought you two here?” Albert asks as he waves his hand in our direction.

Rachel then looks at Ostwald, “Sir, I thought you were on Landin.”

“I was on Landin, but hearing about your situation, I came here immediately,” Ostwald answers.

Weird. As far as I recall, even a regular courier couldn’t get through the soldier's checkpoint, much less a former court magician like Ostwald. However, when I turn my head to Albert, he then winks his eye at me. Yeah, it’s all Albert’s doing.

“Anyway, what you two are doing in here?” I ask.

“Just visiting, young miss,” Albert adds.

“That doesn’t sound too convincing,” I answer before Albert pulls me using his larger arms.

As I stand there, trying to keep my composure, I feel a sudden chill run down my spine as Albert's menacing voice whispers into my ear. His words seem to hang in the air, dripping with a sinister intent that I can't quite place.

"How much do you want to know, dear Helen?" he asks, his voice low and guttural, full of malevolent energy that seems to radiate from him in waves. I can feel the tension in the air, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a physical force. I can't help but wonder what he knows, what secrets he is holding onto so tightly that Rachel shouldn’t even know.

“Enough,” I reply with a stern voice, filled with determination.

“The fact that the twins approach the enemy’s camp last night, or the fact that some mercenaries have started packing things up and leaving?” Albert replies while putting his hand on his chin, with a sinister evil smile on his face.

Ostwald then glares at Albert, “Why the heck did you tell her that?”

Albert then looks back at Ostwald, with a calm demeanor and a flat voice, “Tell what? Can you say it again?” He then winks. Ostwald just replies with a nod.

“Go on,” Ostwald adds. He then walks over to Rachel and greets her, probably to take her attention away from both Albert and me. I should be grateful for having Albert as my teacher, he spills every single secret that a 10-year-old shouldn’t have known.

“Isn’t it normal for two sides to talk in negotiation?” I ask Albert.

“The twins are not fond of throwing their men against their own brother and sisters, if you get what I meant,” Albert says.

With the little civil war going on outside, I have no doubt that there is something scummy that will eventually happen. However, I am not sure who was fighting who for the last two nights. However, I have a really bad feeling about this.

“What do you know?” I ask Albert.

“Well, Helen, besides the fact that the mercenaries are going to leave and those two twins going into the enemy’s commander tent, I think you should put two and two together,” Albert adds.

It’s either the mercenaries were betraying us making those twins have to sign an agreement with the enemies, or those twins have already signed an agreement of ceasefire making the mercenaries left on their own to fight against the people in blue uniforms. Those two conclusions are equally bad, though.

“What do you think about it?” I ask Albert again.

“I think you all should get the hell out of here,” Albert says. “The negotiation won’t end well, considering that your father is too naive and too prideful for the principle that he stands up for.”

“How? I’m 10, Rachel is 13, and our parents are as hard as rocks,” I answer.

"Well, Helen," Albert begins, his tone full of concern. "It's a hard situation, but you have to remember that your safety is the most important thing here. If you don't leave now, you won’t get a chance to leave. It’s either do or die. You have to be practical and think about what's best for your survival. It's not an easy decision, but it's one you have to make."

"But what about Rachel?" I ask, feeling a sense of concern rising within me. "She's only 13 and I’m 10. We’re not ready for this."

"I know it's hard, Helen," Albert says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But you have to trust me when I say that you are both stronger than you think. Your determination of recreating Stoner’s rifle proves that. Your chance of survival is better if you run away now.”

And with that, Albert places a heck of a weight on my shoulder. Rationally, Rachel won’t even accept my offer, that girl also has common sense. I’m younger, and probably fooler in her eyes. I also don’t think we can run away that easily. There are too many unknown possibilities outside, with most of them resulting in our death.

I put my hand on my head. What a pain.