Sans passed beneath the raised portcullis gate, curiously observing its jagged teeth as if he were entering the mouth of an ancient beast. The king’s palace loomed in the distance with its tall and sharp peaks like trees in a stone forest.

He walked in the middle of the pathway, surrounded by rows of uniformed guardsmen, while Elsie, uncaring and bemused, lightly skipped along beside him. The wind lifted the fringes of her white coat, revealing her comfortable grey garments. Sans admired her for a brief moment before casting his eyes toward the head of the group, where Commander Ramon impassively led the way.

“Elsie.”

“Hmm?”

She tilted her head toward him.

“Would you say Commander Ramon is strong?”

Sans squinted at the stalwart figure. The commander’s broad shoulders seemed wider than five men stuck together, but it was just a trick of the eyes given his naturally imposing nature.

“Rammy?”

Elsie traced her lips with her index finger and thought for a moment.

“He’s stronger than you.”

“I see…”

Sans glanced at the man with renewed interest.

“But that doesn’t mean very much in this place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rammy is just an underling of the king, but do you really think he’s the king’s most powerful subordinate?”

Elsie shrugged her shoulders and the surrounding guards all chuckled as if on cue. Their conversation wasn’t particularly being held in secret.

Perhaps the king’s advisor is the most powerful one? Or is it the twilight fox that Elder Hoplin mentioned?

Sans speculated on the different possibilities before turning to his partner once again.

“What about you?”

His voice dropped lower as he continued speaking.

“Are you stronger than Commander Ramon?”

Elsie glanced at him, her mouth forming a sly crease, both playful and enigmatic.

“What do you think?”

Sans contemplated in silence while Elsie resumed her careless gait. Their attention was soon captured by the palace’s entrance, which was so massive it looked like even a giant could comfortably walk through.

A steady flow of traffic entered and exited the palace. Merchants, nobles, and even young children could be seen roaming about. However, all such movement came to a halt once Commander Ramon entered their view. Standing off to the side, the busybodies of the upper class all watched as Sans and Elsie were marched deeper into the palace.

Carefully spaced columns of white stone rose from the floor and traveled endlessly upward to support an unseeable ceiling. Radiant lamps decorated the columns as well as the side walls, revealing the many different hallways that split off from the main entrance. However, the most striking pieces of architecture were the massive double doors that were positioned at the far end of the entrance.

“Return to your proper duties! Dismissed!”

Commander Ramon yelled out and the guardsmen all dispersed, leaving him alone Sans and Elsie.

“The king awaits us beyond those doors.”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“This area can be considered the outer palace. However, once we pass through that doorway we will have entered the inner palace, and that is the king’s domain. Whether you already knew or not, King Anthor holds another title, The Illusion King. Be careful of what you do and say, for he will be able to see and hear all.”

Sans gave the man a dubious look.

Isn’t he the king’s subordinate? It almost seems like he’s trying to help us.

“If that is understood, then let us go meet the king, sir alchemist.”

Commander Ramon turned heel and strode toward the inner palace. Sans and Elsie followed closely behind. Sans whispered urgently to Elsie, his heart a mess of possibilities.

“Do you think the king will be friendly? What if I become friends with the king? How will I complete my trial if-“

“Shush, you’re thinking too much.”

The double doors swung open with a certain heaviness. Although Sans and Elsie had yet to enter, they could see a collection of people inside the room, conversing amongst themselves in low voices.

“Remember what I said, this is the king’s domain.”

Commander Ramon spoke as he stood off to the side and invited Sans and Elsie in with a gesture.

“Right, thank you Commander Ramon.”

Sans tilted his head and walked onward while Elsie matched his pace.

“Good job, Commander Rammy.”

Elsie held her nose up high as if she were pretending to blend in with the haughty group that awaited them. Sans made a wry smile and passed through the doorway.

Huh…

An unsettling sensation passed over his body, causing him to wrinkle his brow in confusion.

It feels like I passed through a veil of sorts. Is this the domain-

Before Sans could finish his thought, the ground quaked!

His eyes went wide in alarm as he watched the panicked people get tossed to the floor like crumpling dolls. The walls creaked and groaned as a palpable tension, ominous and foreboding, brewed within the air.

“Elsie, let’s-”

Sans swallowed his words upon seeing her face. Icy like a frozen tundra, her complexion was emotionless, but her eyes burned with a deep hatred. Her fierce intensity was as if she carried the weight of unspoken fury like a bottle of captured lightning that threatened to burst.

“Elsie?”

He nudged her arm, which seemed to dispel the strange trance that had overcome her. With a slow blink, she glanced around, witnessing the fluster and confusion. Now that the unfathomable pressure had disappeared, the people in the crowd pointed to the small cracks in the floor in amazement.

“I’ve never seen such a thing happen in the palace!”

“Do you think a pair of experts are dueling somewhere?”

“Didn’t you hear? Princess Ling returned today, perhaps…”

Sans listened to the surrounding gossip, but he knew precisely where all the chaos originated from, which was the unassuming girl by his side.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered, but to his surprise… she threw herself at him!

“Ah! Oh my! That was terrifying!”

Elsie cried out as she clung onto Sans’ coat. Her voice then lowered to barely a whisper.

“If things become dangerous, I will take us out of here. Don’t be afraid and just do what you feel is right.”

She peered up at him with watery eyes and blinked out a tear. All of this, Sans knew was just an act. Alas, her exaggerations were witnessed by the others, sparking a new wave of gossip.

“Aw, what a precious couple!”

A woman called out before glancing disdainfully at the dumbfounded man by her side.

“If only my husband were as dependable as that youngster. Hmpf!”

The man turned to the woman with a blank look. How did this suddenly become his problem?!

“Silence!”

A deep voice echoed from the back of the chamber, just in front of the throne. The king had arrived at some unknown point. A powerful presence permeated throughout the room, one that seemed to command an unquestionable authority.

Sans observed the king with scrutiny. The monarch was tall while his hair was long, black, and streaked with silver. His face and body were youthful and imposing, but at the same time there was a hazy aura that encompassed him.

Is the king also using an illusion? I suppose that would make sense, considering his title.

Sans flicked his eyes toward Elsie without turning his head. Her appearance was wildly toned down from the day he first met her, which could be chalked up as a masterful display of her skill in illusions. Even though he dabbled in the art of illusions and inherited Kaima’s memories, he still couldn’t unravel Elsie’s perpetual mask that veiled her entire being.

It was blatantly obvious to him how much more mastery Elsie had over illusions in comparison to the king. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her true appearance before. For all he knew, she could be an old and withered hag that liked to be playful, but somehow he doubted this was the case.

“Oh! It’s Madam Altoro!”

Elsie pointed toward an elegant woman that stood off to the side. Madam Altores stared back, her eyes hiding a subtle flash of surprise.

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“Who’s Madam Altoro?”

Sans whispered by Elsie’s side, only just now taking note of all the different personalities that filled the room.

“She’s one of our dear customers.”

A cough rung out from the woman, followed by a quiet reminder.

“It’s Madam Altores…”

The next moment, more people filtered into the room. In the lead was a decrepit bag of bones that hobbled with the support of his cane. His black and red robes flowed like a wave of bloodstained oil. Despite the man’s elderly display, Sans could sense a subdued, yet frightening, aura which even rivaled that of the king’s.

Behind the man was a collection of people that wore a familiar set of robes.

Those are all alchemists. Two of them are even wearing white robes, which means they can be considered elders within the Alchemist’s Association.

Sans narrowed his eyes upon noticing another familiar face. It was a burly man, who was lost in conversation with the elder alchemist by his side.

“Elder Binks, it was just as you said when I adjusted the rate of heat transfer. Now if only we could replicate the process with the new batch…”

“Of course I’m right. Hush now, we’ll talk about this later. I heard Advisor Karbone has found us a talented helper.”

Sans’ lips curled into a sardonic smile as he watched the interaction.

What was that alchemist’s name again? Moron? Morris? Moro? Ah, who cares. You reap what you sow.

The alchemist made his way toward a smartly dressed fellow. It was only then that Sans caught sight of another familiar face.

That’s Lord Orbos. I wonder if his side business took a hit ever since my cure hit the streets.

Sans grinned and nodded his head toward the two, both of which stared back curiously for different reasons. Neither had forgotten him, but at the same time neither could figure out why he was here.

While the group of alchemists mingled together with the nobility. The older man positioned himself by the king’s side and whispered quietly.

“King Anthor, did you find the cause of the tremors? The disturbance was not on our end.”

King Anthor shook his head with a grim look and responded.

“No, I didn’t find anything. Did the rampant energy ruin anything of importance?”

“Not that we’re aware of, but-”

The king held up a hand, silencing further conversation.

“Actually Karbone, we’ll talk about this later.”

King Anthor gazed into the audience with a strange look before palming his face in silent disappointment.

“My damn son is lost again…”

A side door slammed open, followed by a boisterous laugh.

“Hah! Foolish alchemist! It is I, Prince Marlow, that have brought you here today!”

The young prince stared off into space as he yelled, causing a wave of awkward glances to be shared amongst the nobility.

“Prince Marlow, stop the nonsense. Your sister is arriving any moment. She’s just down the hall. You don’t want to be in her way, do you?”

Bobo called out from behind the prince, who suddenly became withdrawn like a frightened cat.

“N-No, we have to go-“

Prince Marlow sprinted off in a random direction, and the deafening crash of metal meeting stone filled the air as he collided against a supporting column. A wave of sighs, followed by snorts of contempt, sounded from the crowd.

“Marlow!”

“Yes father!”

The prince scrambled to his feet and saluted the column.

“Behave yourself.”

“I will father!”

Before Bobo could steer the young prince away, a new voice seeped into the air, emotionless and cold like steel on a frosty winter morning.

“A bumbling idiot and his foolish lapdog.”

Prince Marlow froze in place as the rhythmic clack of metallic greaves heralded his worst nightmare.

“S-Sister Ling…”

“Don’t speak to me, or you’ll lose more than just eyesight.”

The imposing woman, armed from head to toe in a suit of dark and metallic scales, finally arrived before the prince. Her strands of raven and crimson-streaked hair were like smoldering coals wildly scattered across her shoulders. Strapped to her back was a massive greatsword—almost taller than the princess herself.

Although much of her face was hidden within her helm, one could still make out a sadistic smile as she stared down at her own brother like a dragon deciding the life or death of a house cat.

The king sighed upon seeing their unfriendly interaction, but what could he do?

“You called me here for a reason?”

Princess Ling spoke to the king without ever facing him. Her complete disregard for his presence seemed to strike a nerve. His eyes briefly squinted and twitched in annoyance.

“My trusted advisor has brought to my attention the rumors of an unsanctioned alchemist performing miracles. Although I retrieved you for a different reason, it doesn’t change the fact that you are present today. I would ask my wonderful daughter to be so kind in assisting us by using your Eyes of Purity. Advisor Karbone, if you please.”

Princess Ling scoffed in disdain while King Anthor gestured toward the decrepit man, who rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck like a statue that had just gained sentience.

“Of course. Young man, please step forward.”

Advisor Karbone bore his gaze onto Sans, who glanced at Elsie with uncertainty.

“Well, go on then.”

She pushed him forward with a light tap on the back. Seeing this, Advisor Karbone spoke out once more.

“As many of you know, our honored princess chanced upon a special opportunity during her adventures. The Eyes of Purity, able to see through any lies and falsehoods. Additionally-”

“You ignorant fossil. I can only use the skill for less than a minute a day, and you wish for me to use it for this farce? I tire of this, and it has interfered with my training—I’m leaving.”

Princess Ling’s word cut through the air. Her irritation was evident, but both the king and advisor wore determined looks.

“Ling, don’t you dare leave this room.”

King Anthor’s presence filled the room like a suffocating blanket, causing a wave of unease amongst the crowd. Princess Ling was entirely unfazed, but for time since entering the room, she turned toward her father. After a brief staring contest, the king finally relented and spoke again.

“If you do this for us, and it’s a desirable result, then you will no longer be confined to the palace. You will be free to continue your adventures as before.”

With everyone waiting for Princess Ling’s reply, the room was so silent that it was almost deafening.

“Fine, ask him your question.”

Advisor Karbone smiled before staring fervently back toward Sans.

“Excellent, excellent! Now first, what is your name boy? What is your name and where did you learn alchemy?”

“My name is Sans. I am mostly self-taught.”

The old man cackled before rubbing his hands together.

“Self-taught you say? Good, good. Now, I will ask you a couple yes or no questions, and if you don’t respond within a minute… there will be consequences. However, if your response in favorable—then I wish for us to have a healthy business relationship!”

Sans’ eyes flickered around the room. He saw the gloating expression on Moro’s face, along with Madam Altores’ distraught expression. Finally, his eyes landed on the armored princess, who simultaneously turned to face him.

A sudden sense of danger washed over his heart and soul as if he were being stalked by an apex predator. Although he couldn’t clearly see her face, Sans could tell that Princess Ling was assessing his combat capabilities with disdain and scrutiny.

This is the gaze of a battle maniac…

Pushed by some primal instinct, Sans refused to avert his eyes and challenged her back. It was like an unspoken test of willpower that he refused to lose.

“Sure, ask your questions.”

Sans called out as he became increasingly comfortable staring into Princess Ling’s fiery eyes. A chaotic smile formed on her lips and her hand slowly reached for the handle of her massive sword.

“Perfect. Princess Ling, we will begin now, please activate your Eyes of Purity!”

The princess’ battle-crazed look was at its absolute peak when Advisor Karbone spoke. Just when her fingertips reached the handle of her weapon, her eyes bloomed with a golden aureole. The next moment, her smile disappeared entirely and she froze in place. The woman grew incredibly still, causing Sans to wonder if she were even breathing.

“Alchemist Sans, yes or no! Do you know the cause of Prince Marlow’s loss of sight?”

Advisor Karbone’s voice thundered throughout the room.

“Yes.”

“Alchemist Sans, yes or no! Can you cure Prince Marlow’s blindness?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room turned toward Princess Ling, who remained stock-still. The king, who noticed that her hand was about ready to grasp her weapon, let out a light cough.

“Daughter, stop looking for an opponent here. Did our alchemist answer truthfully?”

The golden glow faded away from Princess Ling’s eyes, which simultaneously seemed to return her breath back. She inhaled deeply before taking a step back and turning toward the exit.

“Yes, he answered honestly.”

Her voice sounded like a gentle breeze, a bewildering experience for everyone present. King Anthor’s mouth hung agape as he stared at his daughter.

“Who are you and what did you do with my daughter?”

He joked as the familiar clack of her metallic greaves hit the floor.

“I will be training for the next two days. Don’t disturb me.”

Just like that, her emotionless voice returned as if her previous response were merely a trick of the ears. She marched out of the room, leaving behind an awkward silence.

“Huh. It is strange that she didn’t immediately choose to return to the ninth floor…”

The king shook his head as if to clear his head. He continued speaking.

“Advisor Karbone, it would seem our back up plans are no longer needed. We have our miracle alchemist.”

“Yes, quite so! I wish to strike a partnership with you. We will supply anything and everything we can in order for you to cure Prince Marlow’s eyesight. In return, you may request something of the kingdom. Although, it’s extraordinary how someone so young could master-”

Advisor Karbone paused upon seeing the king raise his hand.

“Wait. Before anything else… it’s time for you to come clean.”

The king gave Sans a playful smirk, who merely stared back in confusion.

“Um…”

Sans glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure no one was standing behind him, before pointing to himself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Come on, ancient monsters like us… we like to feel young, but in reality…”

King Anthor ran a hand through his sleek black hair, causing a portion of it to grey before regaining its vigor.

“Did you forget, Sans? You’re in my domain now. I can see the illusionary mask that covers your body. If anything, your face is like a grey blur to me, but I want to make something clear—this is my palace, and I won’t have anyone using illusions under my watch. So, if you would please unveil yourself such that us elders can greet one another properly.”

The king’s eyebrows wiggled in amusement, likely proud of his superiority.

“Ah, so our alchemist friend isn’t as young as we took him to be?”

Advisor Karbone spoke out and nodded with newfound understanding. Everything suddenly made sense, how the miracle alchemist could have been so talented.

“Pfft-oops.”

Elsie forcefully held a giggle as she watched the spectacle.

“King Anthor, I think there’s a misunderstanding-”

“Are you suggesting you are not using an illusion? Are you suggesting that I am wrong?”

The king adopted a fierce look, to which Sans could only let out a sigh of annoyance. With a snap of his fingers, his carefully crafted illusion melted away.

The pock marks and abrasions that once littered his cheeks disappeared, leaving clear and plush skin in their wake. His bushy and unkempt eyebrows suddenly faded and became naturally sharp, causing onlookers to be subconsciously drawn into his mysteriously deep eyes and parted lips.

Every aspect of his being now garnered attention. Even the gentle drop of his hand was enough to capture the gaze of the audience. There was only one word that could accurately describe him—perfection, which was the unfortunate, or fortunate, result of maximum charm.

“H-How is this possible? He’s actually so young?”

A random nobleman spoke out from the crowd, which seemed to be the spark to cause a wildfire.

“Ridiculous! He must have cast a more intense illusion!”

A man raged out!

“Oh shut it, you’re just jealous! I think he’s quite nice…”

A woman bashfully called out, and she wasn’t the only one.

“A think he’s quite nice too…”

A man subconsciously agreed with the previous speaker. His eyes widened in alarm upon realizing the words he just uttered. Chaos ensued amongst the populace, possible even resulting in some of the more fickle relationships dissolving!

“S-Silence… Quiet! Damn all of you! Shut your mouths!”

King Anthor roared from his throne and let loose his unrestrained aura. A stifling pressure once more filled the room, resulting in an immediate hush.

“I did what you asked. Can we move on to business?”

Sans revealed a devilishly handsome smile as he questioned the king.

“Your illusion… put it back on. Advisor Karbone, you handle the business. I’ll be retiring early.”

King Anthor kneaded the side of his head while Sans once more adopted his lesser self. The next moment, the king disappeared from the spot, leaving the baffled advisor to shake himself out of his stupor.

“Ahem, young alchemist. The conditions? What materials will you require, and what do you wish from us in return?”

Sans puffed his chest out confidently.

“The materials I need, we can talk about those later, but I will warn you right now that they are rare. So don’t think that the cure to the prince’s blindness will be cheap! If you wish to back out now, just tell me…”

Advisor Karbone let out a sigh of relief.

“That will be fine. The Anthor Kingdom has quite the reserve. I highly doubt we will have an issue with the materials. Curing the prince is of upmost importance. If that will be all?”

“No, that isn’t all.”

Sans, now once more veiled by an illusion, formed a dark smile as his eyes scanned the crowd, landing on a certain individual.

“You. Moron.”

“Huh, me?”

The people standing around Moro all scattered, leaving the burly oaf to stare back with a dumb look. Sans’ current appearance almost seemed evil in comparison to his former handsome countenance.

“Did you think that I had forgotten about you?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Moro’s forehead.

“I-Is this because of my attempts to get you to join the king’s faction? Look, I’m sorry. You’re here anyway, so no harm… right?”

Sans shook his head before turning to Advisor Karbone.

“It will take some experimentation and time, but if you provide me the materials, I will help cure your prince. In return, I demand that man over there to eat his shoe. Right here, right now.”

Moro’s jaw hung open in shock. There was no way, right? He robotically turned toward Advisor Karbone with a pleading expression but was doomed to be disappointed.

“Well?! What are you waiting for?! I want both of those shoes to be inside your stomach within the next 10 minutes, or I’ll have your head!”