While Lance lay collapsed, Fulin stayed awake, like a lone lantern holding out in fog.

She was conscious, but Lance’s eyes were shut like drawn curtains, so no light came in, and his mind was drowned like a bell under water.

Fulin could end the Dual Incarnation, yet fear rose like frost on glass; she didn’t know if anyone lurked nearby, what room held her, or what storm Lance’s body faced.

She only knew Lance’s life-essence trickled back like a thin spring, and that if she didn’t show herself, risk wouldn’t bloom like a red flag in daylight.

So Fulin chose to wait, to float in a one-person ocean of night, to face old memories like stars surfacing on black water.

“So, Marcus Aurelius thought that the rougher the world rides you like a tired horse, the more you should seek inner stillness like a moon on a lake.”

“An interesting thought… mm, can you tell me your name, like a bell in a quiet hall?”

“My name is—”

From today, Fulin Belit—this is your name, like a seal pressed in hot wax. It’s my first command after gifting you new life, and there’s no room to struggle like a fish in a net.

Fulin Belit—ah, my good child, well done! One more human nation wiped like chalk from a slate. Come tonight, I’ll reward you; that’s an order, like thunder over a field.

Fulin Belit—oh, my sweet daughter, I hear you made a human friend. Tell Mother her name, like a bird bringing a twig. I won’t order you this time.

Its name is—

I’m Lance Morrison! From today on, this open ground is under me like a banner in wind. Without my say, none of you plays here! … Huh? Woman, didn’t you hear? … Remember this, I’ll come back like a storm!

Don’t push people too far! Just ’cause you’ve got brute strength like a bull, you don’t rule the barn! Remember this, I’ll come back like a boomerang!

I’ll never lose, not once, like a stubborn mountain! What?! Call you big sis if I lose again? No way, absolutely not! … Big sis, I was wrong—tch! Remember this, I’ll come back like a drumbeat!

I won’t… I won’t lose… thanks—no, not that! Even if you hand me a towel like a white flag, I won’t… My dream from now on? Ugh ugh ugh! Don’t ask me riddles like knotted vines! … Anyway, carve it in stone—I’ll be back!

I asked Princess Alice… Big sis, why’re you mad like a cat with its tail stepped on! … She said a dream is guarding the Doran Kingdom’s happiness, like a wall in a storm. Sounds boring to me, ugh ugh ugh! You girls are hard to get like clouds in spring! Maybe I’ll think the same… What? My own dream? Next time, I’ll have it ready like an arrow on the string!

Listen up. My dream is—

Time in that dark ocean stretched like a century of winter, then snapped like a twig.

The Lance Fulin wore finally woke, like an arrow fluttering out of sleep.

He opened his eyes to a strange ceiling, pale and still like a sheet of ice. Reina’s sister maids stood left and right, studying him like twin owls.

“Ah, sister, sister, the scum’s opened his eyes, like a worm poking from dirt. The scum who hogged the guest bed all day can move, thank the sun it didn’t rot the sheets.”

“Yo, younger sister, younger sister, even if he’s a maggot buzzing near Lady Reina like a fly to honey, we’re professional maids; even maggots get courtesy like a ribbon on trash, understood?”

Scum and maggot—what is this, a compost heap? Heat flared in Fulin’s chest like sparks in dry straw.

She swallowed the fire like a snake folding its tongue. She had to play Lance, light and flippant like a leaf skimming a stream.

“Yo! Beautiful ladies, you’ve stared so long like cats at cream. Look away, or you’ll fall for the great Blazing Fire Knight—me—like moths to a flame!”

“Uwaa, sister, sister, this scum’s gross like stale fish. He wakes cranky as thunder and hits on girls who aren’t our lady.”

“Aiya, younger sister, younger sister, men are flies; where there’s food, they buzz like brown clouds. So, as Lady commanded, we keep this fly watched like a jar with a lid.”

Fulin’s temper churned like boiling tea; so the pair came to tickle Lance’s ribs?

Outwardly, Lance kept laughing like sunlight on glass. “Evolving me into a fly? Thanks a lot; I’ll buzz with pride like a brass horn!”

“Sister, sister, the scum admits he’s a fly—buzz buzz like summer.”

“Younger sister, younger sister, growth takes steps like stairs. With patience, even a fly may evolve into a white-horse prince, like a grub into a moth.”

Fulin’s mind dipped like a hawk. Decision planted like a seed—if chance came, she’d taste these two maids like berries at dusk.

It wasn’t Fulin’s fault; they shouldn’t chirp at a Chaos Vampire like finches at a hawk.

“Sister, sister, the fly’s gaze turned scary like a stormcloud. Should we call milady like a bell?”

“Younger sister, younger sister, let’s do as you say. Milady seldom cooks; we’ll fetch her like a breeze down a hall.”

What? A novice at cooking? A picture rose like ink in water—Reina, brimming with love, serving dark cuisine like a night stew, spooning Lance into foaming at the mouth.

Cold sweat slid on the Lance-mask like dew.

She remembered the staff and knight’s cloak left at training, likely stored by someone like goods in a vault.

So Lance grabbed a reason like a rope. “I just recalled something precious I dropped. A staff wrapped in a cloak. I’ll go check. Ladies, excuse me.”

He swung his legs off the bed like oars.

He hit the floor and his body went soft like wet clay. His step wobbled like a reed in wind. Without funneling Battle Aura to brace the frame, he’d eat floor like a falling dog.

Even reinforced by Battle Aura, he only managed a shaky stand like a fence in a gale. Fulin didn’t get why a Charge Knight’s body was this frail; she could only act Lance and inch forward like a crab on sand.

“Aiya, sister, sister, Lance wants to slip out before our lady arrives, like a fish through weeds. He’s hunting something. Is he searching for this?”

Holy shells! The younger maid—tidy as a blood-bag on legs—held the magical girl staff like a lollipop wand. How was it in her hands, like a coin in a magpie’s nest?

“Oh my, such a cute shape, like a ribboned wand. Is this a gift for Lady Reina? But it’s a staff, right?”

“Sister, sister, maybe it’s for Princess Alice, like a star to a mage. Alice has gifts like a sky full of sparks.”

“That’s trouble. We must destroy it before Lance can gift it, like snuffing a candle before dawn. Let me think.”

Panic snapped inside Fulin like a taut string. Lance lunged, “Give it back, that’s very valuable!” He reached to snatch the staff like a falcon stooping.

But this weak body lost to a girl like a broken bow to a willow switch. The elder maid glided aside like a dancer.

Lance pounced again, and she slipped away like rain off oilskin.

On the fourth try, the elder maid raised a hand like a wand of order.

“No roughhousing. Guests should lie in bed nicely like quilts in a chest.”

The elder maid twirled her staff like a falling leaf and flicked it. Levitation whooshed out like a soft wind, catching Lance mid-pounce and floating him back to bed like a leaf on a stream.

Damn it! Discomfort twisted in Fulin like a knot. She had no time for maid games; the hourglass bled like sand.

That girlish staff was Layne’s token, a trust like a sealed letter. Fulin had to see it reach Jasmine someday like a bird carrying spring.

She knew the two maids meant no harm, like kittens batting yarn, but she had to take the staff back like reclaiming a heartbeat.

“Cat, come!” Lance used his ace like a hidden knife, summoning the big cat.

“Rooaaar!” Cats are liquid, they say; even this leopard-beast, bigger than a fine warhorse, poured into the sixty-square-meter room like shadow-water. With a flash of black like a wink, before the elder maid could blink, the staff was already in the big cat’s jaws like a twig, then placed into Lance’s hands, obedient as a hound.

“Younger sister, younger sister, calling a helper is despicable like sand in soup. I can’t match it. Seems this fly wants more than our lady, like a wasp eyeing two plums. What now?”

“Then let’s simply have milady marry by child, like sealing a knot with wax. That way Lance belongs to her forever, and she won’t toil in Golden Bay City running quests like a courier. Two birds, one stone!”

Reina almost dropped the hot porridge like a comet. Her face flushed like sunset. “What are you two saying?!”

“Marry by child, la~” the younger maid sang like a flute.

The elder maid’s tone turned businesslike, cool as slate. “Milady, I think it’s reasonable, like a bridge across a gorge. Even if your venture in Golden Bay City fails, faced with a fact like a mountain, your father must change his decision.”

“Both of you, out!” Reina’s shyness reddened to her ears like cherry tips. Eyes shut, she shouted like a bell.

The maids had to leave, their bustle fading like sparrows.

The room fell quiet like snow.

Reina fed Lance porridge, a spoon at a time like raindrops. “You burned too much Battle Aura yesterday. It overdrafted your body like a bank in red. Rest well and you’ll be fine.”

It matched Fulin’s guess like two halves of jade. She relaxed, and the porridge tasted better than feared, a classic meat-grain congee like hearth soup, heavy with spices. Hot as a small fire, it spread in the mouth like warm light, turned into gentle streams that soothed the body like spring melt. The ease settled her like a blanket.

“Not bad,” Lance praised, like a thumb up to the cookfire.

Reina preened a little like a peacock, then grew reserved like a folded fan. “I do have confidence in cooking. Rest easy~”

Spoon by spoon, the bowl emptied like a waning moon, leaving a soft aftertaste like a lingering breeze.

Fulin recalled the maids mentioning Reina’s father, a matter that sounded heavy like an iron gate.

Reina seemed here for that family matter like a pilgrim, but the task at hand involved vampires—Mind-Tell had hinted, like a whisper in reeds.

And it sounded worse than the vampire problem, like thunder behind hills. What was it? Curiosity stirred in Fulin like fish beneath ice.

“Miss Reina, why did you come to Golden Bay City? Is there anything I can help with?” Lance asked, words gentle as a lantern.

Maybe Lance shouldn’t have pressed; Reina’s fingers pinched and cracked the bowl’s rim like thin ice.

She turned her head away like a flower in wind, not daring to meet Lance’s eyes. “No need. It would trouble you like a stone in your shoe, and it’s also my duty like a soldier’s watch.”

“I see…” The words fell like leaves.

“Yes, Lance. And about that matter—I’ve thought it through. I don’t want you entangled, like silk around wings.”

It wasn’t simple, like a knot tied in rain. Fulin lacked history on Reina like a map missing roads.

Lance didn’t push. He only said, warm as a small fire, “All right. Be careful.”

“Mm. I will.” Reina’s gaze drifted like a boat in mist.

Time slid past in awkward silence like shadows moving along a wall.

Reina broke it like a pebble in a pond. “I heard Mr. George has a very cute niece. I remember her name is Fulin. Lance, do you know her?”