With a brisk pace, we reached the end of the street. Mox veered right toward the girls’ dormitory, her eyes fixed ahead, while I made my way to an empty bench beneath a tree. The rain had left it damp, so I wiped it down with my hand before sitting. The air smelled fresh, a mix of wet earth and faint greenery. It was a spacious, round plaza with the boys’ and girls’ dormitories on opposite sides. Trees lined the area, some with leaves that had already turned yellow, others still clinging to their green. The faint rustle of the breeze stirred the branches, adding to the quiet rhythm of the city.

Minutes passed. I sat with my elbows on my knees, watching students stroll by in pairs or small groups, some talking, others just walking in silence. It wasn't long before Mox reappeared, stepping out of the dormitory with two shields balanced on one arm and two swords gripped in her hands. They looked far too heavy for her size, but she moved like it was no big deal.

I stood up, crossing the plaza to meet her. “Here, I got it,” I said, taking the shields in one hand and the swords in the other.

The shields had proper grips, so holding them was easy enough. But the swords were a different story. I held one by the hilt while the other dangled awkwardly between my wrist and forearm, the weight tugging it down like an unruly child.

“You have a sheath,” Mox said, glancing at my back. “Hold still.”

I raised a brow. “Huh?”

Before I could react, she grabbed one of the swords and slid it smoothly into the sheath on my back. I hadn’t even realized it was there. Her hands moved fast, making sure it was secured tight before giving my shoulder a quick pat.

“Didn’t know I had that,” I muttered, rolling my shoulder to test the fit.

I could’ve just tossed everything into my inventory using the translucent box menu, but that wasn’t something people here were used to seeing. No need to raise eyebrows over a bit of extra weight.

“Ready?” she asked, stepping ahead of me.

“Yeah.”

She pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, her eyes scanning it briefly before tucking it away. I caught a glimpse—a map, from what I could tell.

“It’s kind of far,” she said over her shoulder, motioning for me to follow. “Stick close.”

“Got it.”

She glanced at me as we started walking, eyes flicking toward the shields in my hand. “Heavy?”

“Kinda,” I admitted, shifting them around to get a better grip.

She grinned. “You should’ve seen me hauling them up to my room. Used a wind spell to float the shields. Thought I was smart until it drained all my mana.” She shook her head with a quiet laugh. “Still haven’t fully recovered.”

I nodded and fell into step behind her. Carrying all this gear felt surprisingly manageable. I wasn’t exactly built for heavy lifting, but thanks to that translucent box system, I’d put a few points into strength without even thinking much of it. Good thing too. Without it, I’d be dropping these swords every other step.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted two familiar figures walking toward the boys’ dormitory—Leo and Aiden. Their faces were tight with worry, their pace brisk. Looked like they still hadn’t found Seker. Not surprising, given everything that had happened with her mother. Some people just needed space.

At the far end of the street, the clatter of hooves on cobblestone drew my attention. A large carriage rolled in, nearly as big as the Queen’s, pulled by a pair of sturdy horses. It came to a slow halt, its polished exterior gleaming despite the rain-slicked roads. The door swung open, and a man stepped out. Round in figure, clean-shaven, with a bald head that caught the daylight like polished stone. His clothes were too fine—rich fabrics that practically screamed, Look at me, I’m important. Two guards, each clad in heavy armor, flanked him as he descended. Their movements were sharp, their eyes scanning the area like they expected trouble.

I tilted my head toward the scene. “Who’s that guy?”

“Who cares,” Mox replied, barely glancing his way. “Just another rich guy with too much free time. Probably here to watch the training.” She snorted. “Bet he doesn’t even know it’s canceled. He’s that out of touch.”

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I shifted my gaze back to the man, watching as he dusted off his sleeves and barked something at the guards. They moved in sync, like cogs in a machine,

ready to escort him wherever he pleased.

“This tournament pulls in a crowd, huh?”

“Big one,” she said, eyes forward. “People take it seriously. Too seriously, if you ask me.”

“Five-versus-five matches, right?” I asked, gripping the sword's hilt a little tighter.

“Yep,” she said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Redwood’s gonna hold a pre-tournament first. Teams fight each other, and whoever wins gets to enter the main event.”

“Sounds exciting,” I muttered, voice flat as ever.

“More like corrupt,” she replied with a small scoff.

“Yeah,” I added, glancing around the street. “Bet there’s a ton of backroom deals. Bribes, threats—people telling other teams to throw matches so the team they bet on can win.”

Mox turned her head, giving me a curious look. “You seem to know a lot about that.”

“Everyone knows that,” I said with a shrug, eyes locked on the path ahead. "Seen it happen before."

However, it seemed like Mox was wrong. He wasn’t just some random rich jerk. The fat man’s gaze locked onto me the moment he spun around, his face lighting up with a grin that sent a jolt of unease down my spine. His eyes didn’t waver as he strode toward me, his polished shoes clicking softly against the wet cobblestone. Beside me, Mox slowed her pace, one brow arched, her eyes darting from him to me. I mirrored her look, though I kept my face neutral, my eyes steady on the man’s approach.

‘Do I know him?’ I thought, scanning his features. Bald, clean-shaven, finely dressed like he owned half the city---nope, no clue. And I had no desire to know him either.

He stopped just a few paces from me, his thick frame casting a short shadow in the cloudy daylight. Without even glancing at Mox, he bowed his head ever so slightly, his gaze fixed solely on me. I returned the nod slowly, saying nothing. If he wanted to talk, he’d have to start the conversation himself.

“Mr. Millo,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge of arrogance. “The Queen wishes to thank you personally. You are cordially invited to dine with Her Majesty this evening. There will be other guests in attendance as well.”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. “I… what?” My voice came out flat, as if the words didn’t register properly. “Why?”

“You saved her life,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Her Majesty believes such heroism deserves recognition. And, of course, gratitude.” He smiled wider. “A carriage will arrive at seven to escort you to the palace.”

“There’s really no need for that,” I replied, stepping back a little. “I’m fine without dinner. Really.”

His smile didn’t fade right away, but I saw the shift in his eyes—that brief flicker of annoyance. He turned his head slightly, his gaze cutting toward his guards. “Boys, execu---”

“On second thought,” I interrupted, raising my hand. “I’ll be there.”

The smile snapped back into place. “Wonderful news, Mr. Millo.” He clasped his hands together like a man who’d just closed a business deal. “Wear your finest attire. We wouldn’t want you to stand out for the wrong reasons. See you tonight.”

With that, he pivoted on his heel, his coat swishing as he strode toward his carriage. Mox and I stood still, watching him leave. My shoulders sagged as I let out a long sigh, eyes closing for a brief second to process the mess I’d just been dragged into. Dinner with the Queen or death by hanging. Fantastic options. Just fantastic.

Mox clicked her tongue, giving me a side glance. “Royal treatment, huh?”

“Yeah, royal treatment,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Bet they’ll serve me poison as dessert.”

The fat man reached the carriage but didn’t climb in just yet. Instead, he turned to face me, one hand on the door handle. His grin returned, sharper this time, his eyes squinting like he’d just remembered something important.

“Oh, and one last thing, Mr. Millo,” he called out. “Be mindful of the company you keep.” His gaze flicked briefly to Mox, the implication clear. “After all, you can’t trust anyone but your own kind.”

“Asswipe,” Mox muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing into sharp slits.

I didn’t say anything, just hummed in quiet agreement, my eyes fixed on him. He wouldn't hear it, but it wasn’t meant for him anyway.

“Goodbye, Mr. Millo,” he added, his smile never faltering. “And do check your pockets after being around… questionable sorts. You never know what might go missing. See you tonight.”

The carriage door shut with a firm thud, and a moment later, the horses snorted and began trotting forward. Their hooves clicked against the wet stone, splashing through shallow puddles. Mox and I stayed rooted in place, eyes following the carriage until it reached the end of the street, made a left turn, and vanished behind the buildings.

The weight of the moment settled in my chest. I glanced down at the swords and shields in my hands, then up at the gray sky. The clouds had thinned, letting bits of pale sunlight break through.

“Bring my best attire?” I muttered to myself. “I don’t even have any.”