"Fuck!"

Moen cursed loudly as he suddenly bolted upright from the water, his mind a complete mess.

What the hell was going on?

Why had he lost consciousness again?

Why did his head, stomach, and butt all hurt like hell?

And also—

Why was he naked in a river?

Still dazed, he was startled by a deep voice coming from nearby.

"You've woken up, Master Campbell."

Moen turned his head to see several brawny men in knight armor standing at the riverbank, their expressions stoic as they silently observed him.

The one who had spoken, a particularly handsome knight with an ornate suit of armor, extended a hand to him and said considerately, "Come, let me help you up."

"Oh... oh," Moen mumbled, instinctively reaching out his hand. But halfway through, he froze, sensing that something wasn't quite right.

He glanced around at the group of armored warriors surrounding him, then looked down at his own unclothed body...

Armored men.

Staring.

Naked.

Sore butt?

Some unsettling thoughts began to form. Combined with certain traumatic experiences from his past...

Moen's face instantly twisted in horror. Wrapping his arms around his chest, he scrambled backward frantically.

"You... what did you all do to me?!"

"What?"

The lead knight looked genuinely confused, frowning as he replied, "We didn't do anything to you."

"Then why am I in the river, and why am I not wearing any clothes?!"

"Because..."

The knight hesitated for a moment before his expression turned slightly awkward.

"That was under the orders of Princess Celicia. She instructed us to toss you into the river and give you... a good rinse. A very thorough rinse."

"Oh... is that so?"

Moen blinked in confusion.

"Then why does my ass hurt?!"

The knight's expression grew even more awkward.

"I suppose that's because when we were leaving, Her Highness gave you a particularly hard kick in the backside."

The knight recalled the earlier scene.

As his subordinate knights carried Moen past Celicia, it seemed she had taken offense at Moen's unreasonably perfect rear and, without a second thought, delivered a high, swift kick.

Sharp, precise, and ruthless.

That flawless strike, combined with the pinpoint accuracy, had even earned his admiration as a man trained in martial skills since childhood.

The blow was so fierce that the stretcher they were using to carry Moen nearly snapped in two.

It was fortunate that the princess wasn’t wearing high heels at the time—otherwise, the aftermath would have been unthinkable.

"Is... is that so?"

Moen scratched his head, still a bit bewildered.

But after thoroughly feeling the lingering pain in his buttocks...

Hmm. The sensation was remarkably similar to the one in his stomach. It must have been Celicia's doing.

Still, as soon as this realization settled in, Moen couldn’t help but feel irked.

Damn it, was it really necessary to go that far just because I teased you a little bit?

A punch to the stomach wasn’t enough—did you really have to go for the butt too?

And on top of that, leaving me stark naked to bathe in an icy river during autumn?

Were you planning to murder your future husband?

Moen gritted his teeth and resolved silently.

**Grudges will be remembered!**

She’ll regret this. I’ll pay her back... twice over!

"...And you are?"

Moen finally asked, turning his attention back to the armored group.

"The Royal Knights, Rose Legion, Deputy Commander Lawrence Hawke."

The knight presented his insignia, his expression visibly more formal.

"Under orders from His Majesty, we are here to escort you, Moen Campbell, to the Royal Palace."

"The Royal Palace..."

Moen froze for a moment as realization struck.

Oh, that's right. There was indeed something about that...

Damn it. He had completely forgotten.

They were right—overindulgence really does mess with your memory.

"I see... I owe you an apology for misunderstanding."

Moen sighed in relief and shook the hand Lawrence had extended toward him, adding thoughtfully,

"But to escort me personally, and for a Deputy Commander to make the trip himself—I'm really flattered."

There were only four divisions under the Royal Knights, and a Deputy Commander was essentially the core of the organization. Assigning someone of such rank to perform what was essentially a trivial task seemed almost excessive.

"No, given your status, it’s only fitting for me to make the trip.

And besides, it’s an order from above."

"From above? His Majesty?"

Lawrence pulled Moen onto the riverbank, shaking his head with a faint, apologetic smile but saying no more.

With a light motion of his hand, the knights behind him raised a curtain, enclosing the area into a private space.

"It was Her Highness the Princess's order, and we had no choice but to comply. Please forgive the offense," Lawrence said with some regret.

"Freshly made garments tailored by the Campbell family's own seamstress have been prepared for you to wear when meeting the His Majesty. Please."

"Thank you," Moen replied courteously. With that, he stepped into the enclosed space.

A few minutes later, when he reemerged wearing a meticulously tailored gentleman’s suit, even Lawrence couldn’t suppress a brief moment of admiration.

Regardless of his notorious reputation, or the uproar caused by the rumored engagement between him and Princess Celicia...

At least in terms of appearance—

He was undeniably a perfect match for the princess.

---

The Royal Palace.

Led by Lawrence, their progress went seamlessly.

However, upon reaching the inner sanctum, even Lawrence had to undergo questioning and inspection.

Naturally, Moen was no exception.

Although the entire palace was enveloped in a powerful barrier that nullified magic, no weapons or magical artifacts of any kind were permitted without explicit permission.

After surrendering his weapon, Lawrence turned to Moen with an apologetic smile.

"This month, it’s the Tulip Legion on guard duty, so even I have to follow protocol."

"Understandable," Moen replied calmly.

The two continued down the long, echoing corridor, heading deeper into the palace.

Moen’s curious gaze roamed over his surroundings.

From his fragmented childhood memories, he faintly recalled visiting the palace once before. But he was so young at the time that most of the details were too blurry to discern.

As such, everything here felt fresh and novel to him.

"It feels like..."

Moen withdrew his gaze and commented thoughtfully,

"The palace seems a bit quiet."

"That’s likely because most people are still recovering," Lawrence explained.

"Recovering..."

Moen stopped briefly before quickly catching on.

Despite all the previous tangled web of colorful escapades made him feel like time was passing slowly.

The events surrounding the **Moon of Silence** had only concluded the day before.

At that time, while he had been desperately trying to save his Senior, the upper echelons of Belland were confronting the catastrophic pressures brought by the Moon of Silence.

In truth, the real battlefield had been on their side.

"It must have been harsh," Moen murmured.

"It was indeed harsh, but we won, didn’t we?" Lawrence replied nonchalantly.

However, beneath his stoic features, Moen could sense a profound exhaustion seeping out from his very core.

Moen’s gaze flickered slightly.

To be honest, he still couldn’t fathom why the king had summoned him so abruptly.

The day following the resolution of such a major crisis had to be an incredibly busy time for the monarch.

No matter how he analyzed it, the king's urgency seemed somewhat... excessive.

"Master Campbell, I’ll be leaving you here," Lawrence suddenly said, stopping in his tracks.

He turned and offered a polite smile.

"Just around that corner is His Majesty’s receiving room. He’s waiting for you there."

Hmm? Leaving already? Not even staying to report back to the king?

Moen furrowed his brows imperceptibly but quickly replaced the expression with a flawlessly pleasant smile.

"Thank you, Commander Lawrence, for bringing me this far."

"It’s no trouble—only my duty."

Lawrence gave a small nod of acknowledgment and then began to walk away.

As they passed each other, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through the hallway from a nearby window.

Amidst the swirling wind, Moen faintly caught a murmured warning in Lawrence’s voice.

"Moen Campbell, be careful... Someone might be trying to kill you..."