It was late in the evening when a tall, dark-haired man escorted a young lady to her quarters. "Good night," he said as she entered her room and turned around one last time.

"Wait, I have a question," she said as she saw him start to walk away, "how do you know the guard will find the men from before? The capital is crowded."

He had indeed alerted the guard to the problematic individuals, but from their descriptions alone, anyone from the south could have been the culprit. She had been busy dealing with Anya Epstein when he had made the report.

"I saw their group's logo on the merchandise and sketched it. They have the shard and the report of what happened, so they will have no problem prosecuting them."

It's not like he could have done anything at the scene, he wasn't a citizen of the Lodden Empire, he didn't even know their laws. The Imperial Guard, however, would know how to deal with the situation appropriately.

"Anya would have to make a report as well, right?"

"Yes, and the boy as well. I gave them her name since she was kind enough to introduce herself."

Rowena had to laugh at his words, spoken so dryly. She didn't dislike the woman, she even liked her a little. But she needed to talk to her more to see if that held true.

She did mention that she would be attending the banquet tomorrow.

She wasn't a noble, but she had bought herself a family name in the Lodden Empire. Therefore, she was of high enough standing among the commoners to attend the banquet even though she was not a noble.

"In that case, good night," she repeated his words, "I hope you will arrive in time for the banquet."

"Do you trust me so little?" he said, "I can't let my little sister go to her first banquet alone."

Normally, as per etiquette, she would have to go alone because she could only attend as a guest. Invitations could only be sent to people who were officially part of society, which meant that she would have made her debut. But at a banquet like this, where social status was irrelevant, since she was part of the delegation that had been named as the reason for the banquet in the first place, she could receive written requests to attend as her partner.

Or be asked personally, as Lucan had done before. Though she didn't really want to think about that lying guy.

"Good night, Rowena," he said again, then turned and walked down the corridor.

She stood there thinking about all the things that had happened that day and could not even close the door until Norina came to help her out of her dress. Of course, the maid noticed her slightly reddened eyes, but didn't ask because her mistress already looked tired and lost in thought. She would ask another time.

Who would have thought that a simple request for a dance could have such an exhausting outcome?

"So, do you think you can attend the banquet tomorrow, Crown Prince?"

"Your Majesty, it is but a scratch, I can hardly feel it anymore."

"You can't be serious," the Emperor said angrily, "I know you wanted to go and observe the nobles, but this is not the time for that. You are not yet sitting on this throne, there is no need for you to force yourself like this!"

"I am not forcing myself, Your Majesty; I simply wish to attend to show my sincerity to the Arlen Empire."

The Emperor, hearing his son speak such nonsense with great confidence, felt a headache looming on the horizon and rubbed his temples. "I see what you are trying to say, but I hope you are aware of the fact that this incident could have ended very differently."

Had the prince not learned to control the Mana he was capable of wielding, he would surely have died. The thought still numbed his mind, even if it only touched it faintly.

He had heard the story when they had returned and kept his mind clear for as long as it was necessary, but this whole maneuver could have easily ended his life. Thanks to the young Duke and the Duke's daughter, he had been saved, according to his son.

"The daughter of Varnhagen used salt to keep the Visitor from attacking me, while the young Duke used that time to come out and pacify it," he had reported. Of course, he had made the butter knife arrow disappear from the face of the earth before coming back and telling lies. He hadn't felt good about it, but it was something he owed her, he thought.

Sure, he could have given her more credit if he had told the truth, but if she had wanted them to know about her questionable expertise in handicrafts, she would have told them instead of sneaking around behind their backs. At least that's what the prince thought.

She also hadn't objected to any of the things he had brought to the table. But there was still something he needed to ask, and since they hadn't had a chance to talk since their time at the mine, he had no choice but to attend the banquet.

"I started the rumors about the importance of salt. Merchants from all over the Empire are to arrive during the night and tomorrow," the Emperor said, "those from further away will surely be here by the end of next week.

"We will be able to establish a whole new trade route. With what the ducal daughter said about the use of silver in a new kind of weapon, even silver may soon rise in value."

"It certainly will," the aging man said, "and we have already sent a messenger to the Vatican to announce the end of our age-old agreement."

"I will be the one to go and finalize the termination." He had to meet with the Pope, and the Emperor himself could not leave the Empire so easily. "I have decided to enter the Church and learn more about Mana."

Wide eyed, the old man looked at his son, knowing what it meant for him to say that. "I thought you hated the Church more than anyone. That I would ever hear you say that..."

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"It doesn't matter anymore. I have seen how much I am lacking."

That was even more shocking. For the child who had always been so sure of himself. "I understand. You have to decide what is right for you, just know that I will support you even if you change your mind". As long as he was not tied to a glorified chair like himself, freedom was still within reach.

With a look that told him he understood, the Crown Prince smiled and said, "Good night, Your Majesty." With that, he bowed politely as he was about to leave.

"I suppose you are going to rest for the night?" the Emperor asked.

"I'm afraid I can't, as there is one person I must speak to," he added casually.

With another sigh, his father sank back into his throne. "Right, how foolish of me. Don't overdo it, Prince Lucan."

"I won't, Father," he said, and walked toward the palace where his mother had once resided.

Slowly, she drew a deep breath, smelling the various stenches and odors of the plain. It was horrid. Putrid, stale air vibrated around her as she opened her eyes and exhaled through her mouth, tasting a sense of dread.

What she saw was a picture of what she could already feel with her other senses, but she didn't want to believe it, even after seeing it. "Everything is dead."

Simple words, yet too crass, coming without emotion from those pale, soft lips, that would normally spell salvation. The truth hurt her heart.

The once beautiful plain bordering Duncan County was now nothing but a wasteland. Polluted with the ashes of disintegrated or decaying human bodies and pacified Visitors. It could be healed with blessings, but it was not a task one man could do alone.

In fact, this area was so bad that even ten High Priests couldn't easily cleanse it. Since they had just finished the cleanup, they had to act quickly to restore security to all sides of Granbell Mountain and the forest that belonged to it.

This plain would not be a blooming place within a week, but it would have to be clean enough for people to go there, as the Victory Banquet would be held soon, and they would hold a festival in this area soon after.

"O' venerable Saintess," someone called to the young woman as she sighed heavily, "I brought you some water. Are you tired? Do you need some rest?"

Did she look tired already? "I told you not to address me that way, Illic."

The brown-haired servant blinked at his mistress as if she had asked him about the origins of the universe. "I don't understand, how else would I address you?"

"You know you can call me by my name. Or young lady, like you used to." Before she had become everyone's revered "Saintess".

It was downright hysterical how people made her out to be some kind of messiah, just because she had the same Numbered at her side as the first Saintess that ever graced this green earth. They could not even remember who that Saintess was, yet they looked up to her.

Would she make the same impression one day? She had to laugh a little.

"You look even more beautiful when you laugh." The comment made her face a man who approached her.

He was handsome, that was no secret. But she couldn't see beyond that yet, so she shrugged off his flattery and gave him a friendly smile. Her servant, Illic, wrinkled his nose at that and stepped forward a bit to be one step closer to the Crown Prince than his mistress, who was standing next to him.

Cedric didn't even bother to look at the scrawny boy, though he was aware of the hostility he had shown him. Loyal servants were surely a sign of a good master,' he thought, not feeling threatened by a mere errand boy who, judging by his skinny arms, had never held a sword in his life.

On the other hand, it made him wonder how he could have been a useful servant, barely able to scurry around but incapable of doing any heavy lifting - literally or figuratively.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the Saintess, Scarlett Raylee Baldwin, daughter of the Marquis of Baldwin. It was a rather young Marquisate, but it had already made a name for itself.

The Second Coming of the Saintess appearing as one of their children was certainly a factor that made them stand out, but the brother, Holden Gray Baldwin, was just as outstanding. The man could probably hold his own in a sword fight with the young heir to the Grand Duchy.

His reminiscence was cut short by a fake cough that drew a stern look from the Saintess as she wordlessly scolded the scrawny boy next to her. Cedric realized that he must have stared into space for a while and cleared his throat as well.

"How are the preparations going? Are you sure you can handle the purification by yourself?" He had been in awe of her powers just hearing about them, but now she said she would do it all by herself. Wouldn't that be too much at once?

He understood that they were pressed for time, for the cleanup had taken much longer after the Grand Duke and his first brigade had been recalled so that the Imperial Knights could take care of the rest. It was a sad display, he had to admit.

He didn't really like the Grand Duke of Varnhagen, but the Duchy was indeed powerful. Sometimes it made him want to tear it down. But then they would lose a considerable force in the fight against the Visitors. And Visitors were just one of the enemies an Empire could have.

After all, politics was also a rough battlefield. Whenever someone said that the climate on the North-Western Continent was mild, it only meant that there was neither heat nor cold. They remained amicable as long as everyone held on to their cards. But he dared not imagine what would happen if one of their hands wavered even a tad.

He tossed the thought over his shoulder, met the Saintess' eyes in front of him, and graced her with a brilliant smile. "Please, let me know if you need anything."

"I will be there to help in such a case, Your Highness the Crown Prince." He didn't even bow.

The First Prince of Arlen wondered if he was acting like this because he thought no one could touch him if he hid behind Scarlett forever, or if he was so blind in his loyalty that he didn't even care about his neck?

With a sigh, he shook his head and walked away, leaving the Saintess to do her work while she continued to smile awkwardly until he had distanced himself enough.

"Don't ever talk like that again." Her voice was unusually cold.

"My sincerest apologies, o' ven-" Illic stopped and fumbled with the water flask in his hands, "my lady, it will never happen again."

She could only hope that this time he was telling the truth. "If you do it again, I will ask to replace you on my travels."

With a shocked expression on his face, he seemed almost ready to cry. "I truly mean it!"

"I trust you. Now please return to camp." Of course, he did as he was told, even more pale than usual.

She felt a little sorry for him, but she couldn't help it, otherwise her saving him years ago would mean nothing, because one day he would be executed for his behavior.

Another sigh was heard, this time from the lady of Baldwin. She had something to do, but looking up at the clouds, she felt like the sky was about to fall on her.

'Are you unwell?' the question came from a place far outside this dimension.

'I am fine, thank you for caring.'

'Hmm,' the clear voice rang loudly in Scarlett's head again, 'when will you meet that girl again?'

"That girl" - the young lady from the Duchy of Varnhagen. Scarlett hadn't spoken to Uriel about her, but Uriel had made it clear that she was interested in her before, so it was obvious who she was referring to now.

'I can't let you meet her, it might traumatize her,' Scarlett reasoned, even though she knew that her Numbered's angelic appearance was definitely preferable to that of many others.

It wasn't necessarily the way she looked, though there were one or two things that stood out, but the oppressive air that came with them when they materialized on Unholy Ground. And then there was that ominous feeling she had that just wouldn't go away.

It was a good thing she was alone now, because her worries were certainly showing on her face. "Uriel, I would like to offer a Gamble."

A second later, when the ground was no longer blessed and thus easily penetrable, there she was, risen from the Surface, hovering a few centimeters above the ground with her wide, softly swinging wings outstretched. 'I hear you. What do you wish to wager?'

She opened her lips, which were tinted with a pearly luster, but Scarlett knew that only she could hear her words. "I will cleanse this polluted plain within twenty minutes, therefore, I will need your powers."

With a barely visible nod, the angel-like creature opened her hands, fingertips dusted with the same pearly luster as her lips and the streaky lines on both cheeks that ran from her eyes down to her chin, the number 46 glowing in a faintly golden sheen on her neck. All the while she looked at her contractor through her tightly sewn lids, as if she could see her through them.

'Let the Gamble begin.'