"Trouble?" Lance asked, confusion creasing his brow like a cloud snagged on a ridge.

"Yeah… me, for example—" Thunderlight Knight Liya said, regret flickering like a dim lantern.

It turned out her thunderblade, Zoficar, wasn’t only a saint-tier relic. It was also the key to a royal secret treasure, a lock carved in lightning.

Such a crucial thing, yet lost like a banner torn in a storm. She had to shoulder the blame, and was demoted—from Royal Guard Knight to a border garrison, a life in the wind and dust.

"Is that so…" Lance nodded as he listened, sympathy drifting like warm rain between words.

"And you?" Liya asked, her gaze steady as a spear.

"You mean me? Well—" Lance let out a heavy sigh, the sound like ash falling. He spoke of the past month in the Republic: clashes with warlords, then an ambush by the Shadowspirit Legion, a night of knives.

Liya listened, pity softening her eyes like thawing ice. "You’ve had it rough."

"Yeah. The Republic’s a lovely place. Not getting blown up by arcane artillery was a blessing, huh."

They sat in a wound-licking silence, quiet as dusk after thunder. Then Liya spoke. "You still haven’t answered, Lance. Why did you come here?"

He drank the plateau tea she brewed, steam curling like mountain mist. "Didn’t I say? I have to send them home."

"That’s not right." Liya’s puzzlement tilted like a bird’s head. "Once they’re on the ship, your job’s done. Why board with them?"

"Coming here means you want to enter the Empire, right?" she pressed, voice like a drawn bow.

Lance gave a small nod, simple as a stone.

"Why? You’re a knight, respected, but you’re human—of the Doran Kingdom. In the Empire, a human’s right to life isn’t protected. There’s only ownership. Are you seeking trouble?"

She scolded him like an older sister tugging a stubborn little brother, words pecking like sparrows.

In the old days, Lance would’ve mouthed off. Not now. He held his silence like a shield, then reached behind him.

He placed a long item wrapped in oilcloth on the table. Even a gentle set-down thudded like a drum—solid, undeniable.

"What’s that?" Liya’s gaze fixed on it, drawn by a familiar hum, like thunder far off.

Lance said nothing. He peeled the oilcloth, circle by circle, a ritual like uncoiling a storm. When the last layer fell, light burst like a bolt.

"Zoficar?!" Liya’s shock snapped like a bowstring.

She snatched it from the table. One hand gripped the hilt; the other stroked the blade as if soothing a hawk. Her voice trembled with love. "Great… now I can return to my mistress."

Lance watched her for a heartbeat. His tone tightened, careful as a surgeon’s hand. "There’s something else. Please don’t panic."

Her face went grave, the air tightening like the moment before rain.

Lance held Liya’s gaze for several seconds. Then he ordered the woman behind him, "Drop your disguise. Let her see you."

Shelika had slipped along the road unseen thanks to a high-grade arcane glamour, a face paint for the soul. In common eyes, she was the plainest human woman. That trick let her burrow through the Doran Kingdom for decades.

At Lance’s word, Shelika shed the veil. The disguise unfurled like bat wings from a cloak.

The wings opened from around her true form. Shelika stepped out of shadow into herself—

A lush, beautiful woman of the Blood Clan. From the angle, only Shelika’s side could see her full figure. And she stared straight at Liya across the table, eyes like midnight glass.

"W-what—?!" Liya cried, startled like a deer spooked by a snap.

Shock flared into action. She leapt back with a quick rear step, widening the space inside the tent, breath sharp as flint.

Zoficar leveled at Lance. "Did she seduce you?!"

The blade swung to Shelika. "You vicious Blood Clan with twisted taste—using Lance to set me up?!"

They held their tongues. Silence pressed in, heavy as a sealed tomb.

After a few seconds, Lance tried. "Thunderlight Knight, hear me—"

"Even you want to beguile me?!" Sparks crawled over Liya’s skin, lightning whispering at the edge, ready to strike.

Even so, Lance kept steady, calm like a stone in a flood.

"The Imperial royal family owes money. Does that make sense to you?"

"Owes… money?" The topic was simple, yet not. Liya’s stance eased, like a fist unclenching. She began to listen.

"Yes. Five hundred years ago, the Kingdom had just been restored. Your Empire was launching fiat currency. The Feng Wolf Knight donated a vast sum to back its credit—"

"There was such a thing," Liya nodded, then frowned. "But wasn’t that the royal family’s achievement? How was it the Feng Wolf Knight’s donation?"

So the lore had gaps. Lance’s brow creased, a shadow crossing snow. "Anyway, it’s an investment with hard documents in an Imperial bank, with a foundation set up for it—"

He reached into Yuna’s pack and pulled out a folder with a silver base and a crystal lid. The thing gleamed like ice on moonlit stone. Through the costly, clear crystal, bank papers lay pressed, lines crisp as etched steel, matching his words.

"I see." Liya scanned them and nodded. Yet questions budded like spring shoots, one after another.

"Then just ask the bank to pay out, right?"

"And you, and this Blood Clan woman, and my Zoficar—you still haven’t answered any of that!"

Lance didn’t chase each question. He sighed, long and heavy, like wind dragging through pines.

He rewrapped the folder in oilcloth and slid it back into the pack. His hands opened. "First, the royal family requisitioned the funds."

"So you’re using her to threaten me?" Liya’s thoughts shot down odd alleys like a rabbit.

Lance shook his head, weary as dusk. "Hear me out—"

He summoned a lifetime’s patience. He laid out the Empire’s latest legal revisions, and how they hit foreign assets inside Imperial borders. He gave the royal family’s justification for requisition. He sketched the upheaval on the Republic’s coastal front lines. Then the royal court and the military’s shadow tug-of-war. Shelika’s surrender. Using Shelika and Zoficar as bargaining chips. And the need to reclaim the requisitioned investment.

In short, he said almost everything he could. He laced it with clear logic, tying each strand to what he was doing now, weaving a map for Liya to see.

"I—I see?" Among knights, Liya wasn’t the sharpest blade. Lance’s words left her head swimming, thoughts like fish flashing and gone.

It took nearly ten full minutes before she managed to grasp his plan, barely.

Pressing her fingertips to a tight temple, face pinched with worry, she tried to confirm. "So, Lance, you plan to use the intel Shelika holds, plus the merit of recovering Zoficar, and trade those with the royal family. Right?"

"That’s about it." Lance exhaled, fatigue dropping like rain.

"As a deal, that’s fair." Liya’s nerves eased. She put on a thinking face, calm as a pond after ripples.

"And you even tamed her." She shot Shelika a wary glance, doubtful yet grudgingly impressed, praise like a pebble tossed.

Lance noted Shelika’s hand still clamped on Zoficar’s hilt. To soothe Liya, he lied by kindness. "I know you hate her. Let that go. Agree to my deal. Let her face the Empire’s thorough, impartial trial. That’s justice for everyone."

"And you’ve got Zoficar back, haven’t you?" he added, quiet as dew.

Liya blinked, shame lowering her head like a bending stalk. "You’re after your own gain, yet you’re more upright, more clever than I thought…"

She lifted her eyes and smiled, warm as sunlight breaking cloud. "You truly live up to your name, Blazing Fire Knight~~"

"I’m flattered."

Liya agreed to Lance’s plan.

They chatted for a few minutes, words drifting like smoke over coals.

"Blazing Fire Knight, you plan to go to the Imperial capital and seek an audience with royal members, right?" Liya asked.

"Yes." Lance answered and named a few other members of the royal family, each name a stone on a path.

"I get it. They’re fair and upright. To guard royal dignity, they’ll accept this trade."

"That’s why I have to go to the capital."

But worry crept back into Liya’s voice, a shadow over a field. "Lance, remember what I said. In the Empire, humans have no right to life, only ownership. You don’t even have an owner. Many people hate humans. Many knights do too—"

"At this point, you want to stop me?" Lance sounded incredulous, a spark popping.

Liya shook her head, the fine lock by her brow swaying like grass in wind. "No. I mean this: since it’s a trade, you can work with my mistress—"

Thunderlight Knight Liya spoke. Her mistress was also of the royal family, named Shadia. Like Weirlit, she was a princess.

"But my mistress is different! She’s more beautiful, more graceful, and nobler—her succession order is within ten. She’s a core member of the Prince Council. She has huge sway among the councillors. Even the Emperor has to consult her. Many people admire her like I do—" Liya’s joy bubbled, starry light in her eyes, praise flowing like a clear spring.

From her glow, you could see how deep her reverence ran.

Lance didn’t quite understand it. Yet Liya’s devotion was lovely to watch, a blossom opening. Beautiful. Quietly moving.

Then he remembered that devotion wasn’t for him. It was for her mistress. That thought sank like a small stone, a touch of loss.

He masked it well, a face like calm water.

Mid-praise, Liya’s mood dipped. "My demotion worried her. She left the capital for the border…"

Loss twisted into indignation. "No. She wouldn’t leave just for me. Those people must’ve done it!"

Indignation edged into anger. "They pushed her out of the political center on purpose… how could they—"

Anger warmed into secret glee. "Heh~~ but now I’ve got Zoficar back, and I’ve captured an evil Blood Clan. With this, my mistress will—"

Liya’s expressions shifted like May skies—sun then cloud, clear then mist. The maiden’s charm turned through five colors, each hue a breath.

Yuna cut in. "Seems you care a lot about your mistress."

Liya was a Celestial Spirit, of the Celestial Race. She usually looked down on humans. Lance was an exception. She’d have disliked Yuna chiming in, but the topic fit. She let it slide.

For dialogue’s sake, Liya resumed a Celestial’s native pride when facing a human. "Human, why do you follow your mistress?"

"She’s kind and decisive. I admire her," Yuna said simply, words like clean water.

Hearing that, Liya turned to Lance. For the sake of talk, she set pride aside and praised him openly. "Lance, even your servant says that. You truly are a righteous knight!"

Lance joked. "You don’t suspect she’s buttering me up?"

Liya frowned, tangled like a skein. "Blazing Fire Knight, why are you so suspicious at times like this?"

Seeing her mild ire, Lance groaned. "You didn’t notice I was joking?"

Stubborn as iron, Liya blinked in dismay. "You were joking?"

And so their conversation drifted into a bit of absurdity, like leaves chasing each other in a breeze.

Soon the small talk ended, and the topic returned.

"All right, Thunderlight Knight Liya. You said to trade with your mistress. How exactly?"

"Mm. My mistress has come to the Imperial border too. Let’s speak with her."

"She’s here?" Lance’s eyes widened, surprise a spark.

Liya shook her head. "No." She pointed outside the tent. The open flap faced the mountains backing the camp.

"In the plateau city Losric. Cross the Desolation Range and you’re there. The scenery’s lovely. I’ll board the ship with you later~~" Her voice fluttered with excitement, like a kite catching wind.