Xander moved like the wind, his figure a blur as he stormed through the bustling city streets toward the castle. He weaved effortlessly through the throng of people, his movements precise and fluid, like an acrobat performing at breakneck speed.

Niles, on the other hand, lagged far behind. The aftermath of the previous night’s ball weighed heavily on him, every ache a reminder of his bruises—and his less-than-athletic past. Back on Earth, his diet of fast food and reliance on cars instead of physical exertion was catching up with him. As he hit a dense pocket of the crowd, he groaned, stuck in a sluggish, human-made traffic jam. Sweat dripping down his face, he muttered to himself, “When I level up, first thing I’m upgrading is my stamina stat.”

The young woman trailed just a step behind him, her cheeks flushed a feverish red. Niles glanced over his shoulder, panting heavily, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, though her breaths were shallow, her hand gripping her chest. “Yes... I can manage,” she insisted, though the strain was clear in her voice.

Niles slowed his pace, raising an eyebrow. “You know what,” he said, taking a long, labored breath and straightening his posture, “I think it’s safe to leave this to Xander.”

Her gaze flicked to him, puzzled but kind. “Are you sure?”

Niles gave her a lopsided grin. “Trust me, if there’s anyone who can handle this, it’s him. Let’s take it easy and catch up in our own time.”

Though hesitant at first, the young woman nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. “If you’re certain…”

“I am,” Niles reassured her, “and I’m sure our lungs will thank us for it.”

They both took a moment to catch their breath, leaning against the edge of a shop’s wall. Once their pulses steadied, they began the ascent to the castle, walking at a slower, more forgiving pace.

Xander sprinted across the moat bridge, his heart pounding like a war drum. The guards stationed along the way barely had time to react; some stumbled back, startled by the prince’s sudden charge, their tension from yesterday’s bloody ball still palpable.

Reaching the castle’s inner corridors, Xander didn’t pause. His grip tightened on his sword, every fiber of his being bracing for a fight. He rounded the final corner toward the room where Felix, Roy, Gustavus, and Xhiva were supposed to be. The door was ajar, smoke curling from the edges where the lock had been completely incinerated. Murmurs spilled into the hallway, and dread clawed at Xander’s chest.

Was he too late?

With a prayer in his heart, he burst through the doorway, expecting chaos—but was met with something entirely different.

The scene inside froze him mid-step. The room was bathed in sunlight, glinting off the polished snarling helmets of the Xargian Guard. They were scattered across chairs and tables, engrossed in a heated game of cards. The remnants of the door smoldered in a corner, and the tension in the air was... not battle but competitive fervor.

Xander’s presence drew every helmeted head toward him, their gaze briefly assessing him before dismissing his concern entirely. They returned to their cards.

“What in the name of the crown is going on here?” Xander barked, his breath labored from the run.

His gaze darted to Felix, who lay in bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over him—Felix was alive. But the absurdity of the situation only deepened.

Xhiva looked up from his chair, a sly grin plastered across his face. “The emergency is right here, brother,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “Wolf here has plummeted six times in a row. If he folds again, his honor will be worth less than a copper coin—shame so deep not even the Golden Bank could buy it back.”

Xander blinked, his sword lowering slightly as his mind struggled to process. Xhiva wagged his tongue mockingly at the soldier across the table, whose body language—even under his fearsome helmet—radiated annoyance.

“Are you serious?” Xander growled, his voice laden with disbelief.

It made no sense, but Xhiva’s taunting expression and carefree attitude made one thing clear: the Xargian Guard’s code of honor was on the line, and it revolved around this absurd game.

Xemena strode down the hallway alongside Dragon, the imposing leader of the Xargian Guard. The two were deep in conversation, their voices low and measured. As they neared, Xemena noticed her usually composed brother standing frozen, an uncharacteristic expression of bafflement plastered across his face.

“Hello, brother,” Xemena greeted, lifting a hand in a small wave. Her sharp eyes scanned him. “You look as though you’ve seen something... otherworldly.”

Xander didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the activity inside the room.

Xemena and Dragon exchanged a look before stepping closer to peer inside. The moment they did, Xemena’s lip curled in amusement. “So this was your grand secret? A pastime gathering?” She gestured toward the scattered guards hunched over their Plump game. “I understand why you’d want to keep such an... event hidden.”

Her attention shifted to the doorframe, now blackened and still faintly smoking. “And what exactly happened here? Did someone think setting the door on fire would add to the stakes?”

Xander finally spoke, though his voice was distant, still grappling with the absurdity of it all. “Perhaps I’ll join their game,” he muttered.

Xemena raised a skeptical brow, folding her arms. “Did Niles put you up to this nonsense?”

Before Xander could reply, Dragon turned sharply toward the sound of approaching footsteps. “Speaking of the man,” she said.

Niles jogged into view, looking slightly winded, while the young woman trailed behind, her patchworked dress fluttering as she struggled to keep her breaths steady.

“And look what he dragged in,” Xemena added, her tone edged with distaste as her gaze locked onto the disheveled young woman. “Why is someone like her in this castle?” She pinched her nose dramatically, as though the very sight of her carried an unpleasant odor.

Niles ignored the jab, his focus on Xander. “How did it go?” he asked quickly.

Xander hesitated, glancing back at the room. “That’s a good... question.”

Curious, Niles peeked inside. “Hello, everyone!” he called cheerily.

Gustavus shouted back from his seat, “Oy, Niles! We’re playing Plump. You in?”

Niles’s face lit up like a child invited to their favorite game. “I love Plump!” he said, stepping toward the table with evident enthusiasm. But then he remembered why he was there. “Oh, right. Felix.”

He moved to Felix’s bedside and leaned in, listening closely. The soft sound of breathing met his ears, and he sighed with relief. “Good. We’re in time.”

Roy stood abruptly. “Did you bring someone with a skill to help him?”

The room, Xargian guards included, turned their attention to Niles, awaiting his answer.

“Well, skill-ish,” Niles admitted with a casual shrug. “It’s worth a shot.”

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He turned to the young woman and gestured for her to step forward. “Come on in. Don’t be shy.”

She hesitated for a moment, her hands nervously clutching her patchwork dress, but Niles offered her a reassuring smile, stepping aside to make room for her.

She stepped hesitantly to Niles’s side, her gaze falling on the man lying in the bed. She had never seen him before, but it was clear he was teetering on the edge of life. His face was ashen, devoid of color, with deep, exhausted hollows beneath his closed eyes. His chest rose and fell faintly, each breath a labor.

The room was silent now, the card game abandoned. All eyes were on her, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken hope. “What do you want me to do?” she asked softly, her voice barely breaking the tense quiet.

She studied the man again. His short-cropped hair, icy blue like a glacier, framed a face that must have once been strikingly handsome, with high cheekbones and a noble structure now dulled by his frailty.

Niles handed her the bouquet, his expression urgent but kind. “I need you to give this to him,” he said simply.

Her brows knit in confusion. “That’s it?”

Niles nodded, his voice tinged with resolve. “We don’t have much time. I believe in Felix’s will to survive, but his body’s nearly given out. Maybe your skill can give him the boost he needs. Even if it’s just a little.”

He stepped back to make room for her, and everyone in the room stood, their breaths held, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Even Xemena and Dragon joined the onlookers, curiosity pulling them closer.

The young woman approached the bed, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the bouquet. “Hello,” she said softly, her voice wavering as she addressed the unconscious man. “I hope this bouquet finds you well... and that you recover soon.”

Carefully, she placed the bouquet into his limp hand, adjusting his fingers to grip it gently. The room seemed to hold its collective breath, a silence so profound that even the faint creak of the bed seemed deafening.

Nothing happened.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking as she stepped back. “I don’t think it worked.” Her shoulders sagged, and the weight of the room’s expectations bore down on her. She felt every glance, every ounce of judgment. An outsider brought into a crisis, only to fail.

“What are you talking about?” Niles said, stepping forward, his tone brimming with determination. “We’ve only just begun. Your skill doesn’t have a limit, does it?”

She blinked, confused. “I... I don’t know.”

Niles turned to the room, his voice rising in an impassioned command. “Everyone, listen up! This girl’s skill has the power to bring joy. Everything she gives—be it an item or even a compliment—instills a small, warm sense of happiness in the receiver. We’re going to use that to help Felix!”

He raised his voice even further. “So, gather anything you can find—small items, tokens, whatever you have. Bring them to her so she can pass them on to Felix. We’ll force his recovery through sheer happiness!”

Xander, ever the leader, took up the call. “You heard him! Move!”

The Xargian guards abandoned their seats and began scouring the room for anything they could contribute. Coins, trinkets, even playing cards—they piled everything they could find in front of her.

Niles turned to her with a spark in his eyes. “And you,” he said, his voice dropping to an encouraging tone, “give him lots of compliments. Every word of encouragement counts.”

She stared at him, startled but unwilling to falter. With the room’s collective effort fueling her resolve, she nodded and prepared to try again.

Her hands moved steadily, taking item after item from the growing pile and passing them to Felix. With each token, she offered a compliment—gentle, warm words meant to reach the unconscious man. “You’re strong,” she murmured, placing a coin in his hand. “You’ve got people who believe in you,” she added, tucking a small charm by his side.

Niles had stepped back, not just to give her space but to keep replenishing the pile with whatever he could find. His movements were purposeful, his focus unwavering as he scanned the room for more trinkets to sustain the effort.

From across the room, Xemena scoffed, her smirk sharp as a blade. She approached Niles, arms crossed, her tone dripping with condescension. “Really? You’re trying to bring someone back with happiness? Do you even hear yourself? That’s ridiculous. You’d be better off following the doctors’ advice while there’s still time to claim his experience points.”

Niles paused, his usual optimistic demeanor giving way to something colder, sharper. His shoulders tensed, and when he spoke, his irritation was unmistakable. “I’m not trying to revive him—he’s still alive. And he’s not some commodity to harvest like crops in a field. It’s not over until we stop trying.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and moved to Xander, whispering something too low for the others to hear.

Xemena’s frown deepened, her cheeks flushed with indignation. “Did that banished nobody just insult me?” she hissed, her voice rising. She turned on her heel. “We’re leaving.”

But Dragon, standing at her side, didn’t move. Her voice was calm but resolute. “It always seems impossible until it’s done,” she said, her gaze fixed on Niles. “That man fights until miracles are possible.” She gestured toward him with a nod. “Let’s stay and see this through.”

Xemena rolled her eyes, exasperated. Her gaze shifted to a nearby cart laden with freshly replenished food and delicacies. “Fine,” she muttered, heading toward it. Grabbing a chair and a slice of cake, she seated herself at a table with a huff.

Across the room, Xhiva gave her a cheerful thumbs-up, a gesture he’d recently picked up from Roy and Gustavus, the summoned champions from Earth. Xemena’s lips curled into a grimace, and she muttered under her breath, “This entire castle has lost its mind.” She stabbed her spoon into the cake, taking a bite as if it were the only sane thing left to do.

As the hours slipped into night, the room gradually emptied. Only the royal siblings—except Xhiva, who had left earlier—the summoned champions, and the young woman remained. She knelt by Felix’s bedside, her voice soft but persistent. “Please wake up. You’re so important to so many people,” she murmured, placing another small trinket atop the mound already covering his still form.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” Xander said, standing beside her. “Perhaps you should take a break?”

She shook her head, her exhaustion visible in her trembling hands and hoarse voice. Summoning a polite tone, she replied, “Thank you, Prince, but I want to keep going.”

Xander studied her for a moment, recognizing her determination despite her evident fatigue. He nodded and stepped back.

“Please come back to us,” she whispered to Felix, leaning closer. “I really wish I could talk to you. You have such a kind face.” But Felix gave no response, his body unmoving, as if his soul hovered between this world and the next.

Across the room, Niles sat with Roy and Gustavus, listening intently as they recounted the earlier events. Lion had used his skill, Flame On, to burn through the door, leading a contingent of Xargian Guards intent on ending Felix’s life. But Xhiva had intervened, halting them and somehow persuading them to resolve the conflict through a card game of Plump. It was then that Squeaky had flown off to alert Xander. Roy had also threatened to use his devastating skill, The Cannon, to blow up the castle, his status as the prince’s ward lending weight to his words.

Somewhere close in the room but yet so far.

Darkness embraced him, endless and consuming. It felt peaceful, like the closing of a book after a long journey. But then—a voice, soft and distant, drifted through the void.

“Please wake up. You’re so important to so many people.”

The words stirred something in the nothingness, like a faint breeze in the stillness. The voice came again, gentler this time, weaving through the abyss.

“Your hair is so beautiful. I wish I could see what color your eyes are.”

A flicker of light broke through, fragile yet insistent. Strength, faint but growing, seeped into his spirit. Slowly, Felix’s eyelids fluttered open. The light of the room was blurry, the world beyond it hazy, but one figure stood out—a girl, framed by the glow of candlelight. Her form seemed almost ethereal, like a haloed vision.

“Are you an angel?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Startled, the young woman leaned closer, her eyes widening in surprise before softening into a smile. “No, I’m just a poor girl from the slums,” she replied, tucking a strand of her short, dark blonde hair behind her ear.

Felix gazed at her, his strength fading as quickly as it had come. “What’s your name?”

“Lina,” she said gently, her voice trembling with relief.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he murmured before his eyes closed again, the effort of consciousness too much.

“FELIX!” Niles shouted, his voice breaking the spell of silence. Everyone rushed to the bedside, gathering around Felix. Though exhausted, his faint smile and slightly flushed cheeks gave hope.

Dragon stepped forward, her keen eyes inspecting him closely. “He’ll survive,” she said with certainty. “But he needs rest.”

“We should leave,” she added, looking to Xemena.

The princess rose from her chair, glancing briefly at Felix before turning to Niles. Her gaze lingered, her expression unreadable. “Yes,” she said finally, following Dragon out of the room.

“I’ll have a court assistant bring an extra bed here,” Xander announced. “Rest for now, and we’ll reconvene tomorrow.” He placed a reassuring hand on Niles’s shoulder before leaving.

Roy and Gustavus lingered a moment longer, exchanging tired smiles with Niles before heading out themselves.

Finally, the prince turned to Lina. “I’ll escort you out,” Xander said. “Before you go, we’ll provide food and clothing as thanks for your help.”

Lina hesitated, glancing at both Bander and Niles. “Thank you,” she said softly. “My brother and I will be very grateful.”

Niles turned to Squeaky. “Make a bond with her,” he said.

The bird fluttered to Lina’s shoulder, tapping it gently before returning to Niles.

“In case we need your help again,” Niles explained, offering her a warm smile.

She returned the smile, bowing slightly before following Xander out.

As the room grew quieter, Niles looked at Squeaky, his face lighting up. “Well done buddy, I’ll make sure you get some grilled fish tomorrow” he said warmly.

The bird chirped in delight, and Niles chuckled.

The night was winding down for Niles, Roy, Gustavus, and Felix.

But for Xander, Xemena, and Dragon, the night was far from over. A strategy meeting loomed, its gravity pulling them toward the aftermath of yesterday’s bloody attack on the ball. And they were already late.