"Oh no... This is truly devastating, Justice."

On a sunny morning, a gentle breeze seeped in from the window, softly swaying the beige curtains. The air carried the scent of morning dew and earth. Bright yet not harsh sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow inside the bedroom turned into a makeshift infirmary.

But the scene in the room and the lazy atmosphere of early morning didn't quite match up...

The beds intended for rest and recovery were cluttered with papers and documents, with the steward collapsed over the short table, hand that once held a quill now dropped on the bedsheet, red ink staining the fabric where it had been used to mark papers. Mixed in with the mess were scattered papers thrown around, as if the scene resembled a writer collapsing from overwork while on deadline.

"Justice... Are you still alive?" Tiran cautiously reached out to poke the steward, who had lost consciousness over the desk filled with documents, asking with a hint of unease.

"Don't go casually handing out death sentences. He's still breathing," Aya added, closing the window before turning to survey the grim workspace. If news about a young office worker working himself to death for seventy-two hours straight or a university student collapsing from studying late into the night made it out, this scene would surely grab attention.

Mimi really doesn't treat themselves as a human being...although they weren't one to begin with. Judging by Mimi's surveillance calculations, Justice had probably been working intensively for over three days. Coupled with the existing injury, this pace was truly pushing to the brink of collapse.

Luckily, as Aya said, Justice was still alive. Being a high-ranking swordsman, even when overworked, he could perform at legendary levels, so the current situation was likely just fatigue and not an illness. With proper rest, there shouldn't be any major issues.

Could it be considered fortunate that Lady Tiran had low alcohol tolerance? Despite passing out quickly, she woke up fast. In contrast, Mimi, who had been drinking with Aya for a while, was asleep for a long time and showing signs of a severe hangover.

"Well, for now, it seems we've managed to handle Mimi," Tiran sighed casually after laying Justice back in bed and tidying up the room with Aya.

"Let's hope so...But honestly, it feels like we've just buried a landmine that's bound to explode sooner or later. Mimi will probably figure it out soon, right?" Aya said helplessly.

"Hmm, afraid?" Tiran teased, looking at Aya with a playful smile, attempting to lift Aya's chin with her left hand. "If you regret it, this lady can give you a chance to back out. After all, marrying the Silver War Maiden isn't an easy task."

"Of course, I'm scared, but I also really like you," Aya blurted out, catching the princess off guard, causing her to stammer and wave her half-raised hand in a flustered manner.

"Why are you saying something like that?" Princess Tiran was taken aback by the unexpected confession, feeling quite perplexed.

Well, in a way, that was probably one of the reasons why she liked Aya. It was because of this that she fully believed every word Aya said.

"...Just say that I'm an utterly clueless fool without a hidden agenda," Tiran said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Are you eavesdropping on my thoughts?" Tiran grinned mischievously, baring her fangs as if to nip at Aya.

"It's because you didn't shield the effect of the contract yourself!" Tiran shrugged, "Well, forget it. With the contract in place, you can't escape."

"Hehe... Coach, can I return this? I don't want this princess anymore," Aya joked, albeit unwillingly.

"Enough chatter, you have to keep it today," Tiran scoffed.

"Act serious; Mimi will find out sooner or later," Tiran advised.

"That's why I can delay it a bit," Tiran chuckled, looking quite pleased with herself.

Spending days cooped up in the castle and constantly seeing each other raised the question – did Tiran want Aya to play hide-and-seek in the castle?

"Oh, no, of course not. We're setting out for a mission today," Aya responded, surprised.

...

Aya felt like a child being suddenly informed by her parents that she had to go out for dinner with a group of unfamiliar relatives. While fleeing was shameful, it was indeed effective. The reason for her escape was something Aya hadn't anticipated. Only a few days ago, everything was calm and mundane – she almost forgot there was a war going on outside!

"Do you really think I did nothing during these days?" Tiran confidently buckled her sword belt and patted her non-existent chest, exuding a sense of self-assurance.

"I feel like it's a terrible idea," Aya remarked as she descended the spiral staircase, using magic to change her clothing from casual wear to knightly attire, tailored in shades of sky blue that surprisingly matched Tiran's colors.

Outside the castle, the remaining personnel awaited them on the lawn. The winds were strong that day, causing the untrimmed wild grass to create a wave-like effect as it swayed resiliently.

This mission was special, devoid of any escorts or additional troops – more of a special operations scenario. Hence, there was no grand send-off ceremony, only the loyal attendants who had served Tiran for years bidding them farewell.

And then there was...

"Chirp..."

"I'm sorry, little Chirp! After resolving this, I'll definitely accompany you on a trip. How does that sound?" Aya, squatting in front of Chirp, resembled a clueless mother.

"A clear flag, Aya. Instead of 'let's get married when the battle ends,' you might as well say it to me," the princess chimed brazenly, standing nearby.

"Will you just shut up already?" Aya was caught off guard by the reference. Mimi's gaze turned menacing instantly, conveying an intent to murder!

After calming down the tearful Chirp, Aya was hit with a pleasant fragrance. Looking up, she found Mimi standing before her, donning an elegant smile and offering good wishes, crossing her hands in a bow as she watched the duo.

"May victory be with you," Mimi stated, exuding a sense of grace Aya had never witnessed before, associating this demeanor as fitting for a head maid, unlike the violent woman who relentlessly wielded a whip.

But in the next moment, Mimi stepped forward, nearly brushing her nose against Aya's face, eyes shifting to a deep red as she emanated an unreserved aura of hostility. "Remember this, you sneaky cat. When you return, I won't spare you!" The sudden surge of intensity even reminded Aya of facing a fearsome dragon – albeit on the intimidation level alone.

Nevertheless, Mimi then retreated, reverting to her amiable smile, as if the threat hadn't originated from her at all, leaving Aya feeling a chill and slightly flustered. Aya returned to her dragon form, carrying Tiran as they ascended into the sky.

Spreading her fifteen-meter long dragon wings felt incredibly comfortable, and with the altitude reaching above the clouds, the outside noise was dampened by the magical barrier.

It felt oddly familiar to Aya; it was akin to when she and Tiran were constantly on the run from Little Angel.

Stretching her neck, Aya glanced back at Tiran on her back. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Oh? I'm just making myself comfortable. Your scales are so hard; you wouldn't want me to sit directly on them throughout the journey, would you?" Tiran fetched cushions and a pillow from her storage bracelet and attempted to wedge them on Aya's back, securing the corners into the gaps between scales.

"Are you treating me like a transportation service?" Aya protested.

"Tsk, stingy," the princess sighed in disappointment but perked up upon seeing a gap in the scales where she could insert the cushion.

"So, what's this 'perfect plan' of yours, really?" Aya inquired.

"Just let me finish this last bite," Aya retorted before hungrily swallowing the cake Tiran tossed at her.

Mimi's honey cake was indeed delicious, though not entirely suitable for Aya's dragon form.

Satisfied that Aya had calmed down, Tiran elaborated on their so-called "perfect plan." Militarily, Milanía was at a strategic disadvantage, with the eastern front and Maston at a standoff, dividing the main forces. The western coast lacked the strength to deter subsequent landings by the Glevus fleet. At the Holy Rank level, Tiran and Aya wouldn't be able to simultaneously handle the two opposing Holy Ranks separately.

To shift from a passive to an active stance, they had to take the initiative, and the direction of this proactive move was clear...

"Towards the capital, Maston," Tiran decisively drew a straight line on a scale of Aya.

Understood. All tactics reversed.