Knock knock knock.

After hearing the knocks at the door, Oren slowly opened his eyes. After a dazed pause, he felt warm breath on his cheek. Turning his head, he saw Lia still asleep beside him.

Oren gently lifted the ink-black hair spilling over the pillow—like dark seaweed—with his fingers. Her defenseless sleeping face came into view: fair skin, slightly upturned lashes fine as black threads, a petite nose, and delicate rosy lips holding a hint of childish innocence. Most striking was her long hair, flowing like seaweed, blooming like a black rose.

If you looked closely, she was truly beautiful.

I wonder if Mother looked like this too, Oren thought, sighing heavily. His parents’ faces had nearly vanished from his memory. Just as he wondered how to face Lia in the future, the knocking sounded again.

Hearing it, Oren rose slowly. After tidying his clothes, he walked to the door. Opening it, he found Shiafa—the Helistar Academy student council president—smiling at him.

“Looks like you had quite a night, classmate Oren.”

“Guess.”

Unfazed by Shiafa’s teasing tone, Oren shot back. But she didn’t take it to heart, stepping back with a smile.

“Master William sent me to fetch you. Please come along.”

“Huh? Why you?”

As they left the dorm, Oren murmured, “Isn’t it always Ellen who delivers William’s messages?”

“Well, Lord Ellen ran into trouble,” Shiafa said, chin in hand. She turned to him. “She’s under house arrest by Master William. I hoped you’d share some insider details.”

Shiafa hadn’t been told.

Last night’s incident must have enraged William, Oren thought, rubbing his nose bridge. “I’m not sure. Thanks to you, I got a very… unexpected welcome.”

“Haha~ Wonderful!”

Shiafa strode ahead. Oren followed leisurely. Soon, they reached the academy building. After climbing stairs, they stopped at a small room’s door.

“Here.”

Shiafa opened it for him, then stepped back. “I wasn’t invited to this meeting. Good luck, Lord Oren.”

“Mm.”

Oren entered. Inside the book-cluttered room, Dysaia, Yamwen, and Lontan stood waiting. At the far end, William sat on a stone chair, gazing out the window.

“Ah, Oren. Finally here.”

Dysaia smiled. Oren nodded slightly but sensed grim weight in her expression. Yamwen looked equally troubled. Before Oren could ponder, William turned.

“Welcome, Oren. Rough night?”

“Within my limits.”

Oren moved to William’s desk. The old man stood, gripping his cane tightly. After a pause, he spoke softly.

“Straight to the point: my spies intercepted Aston’s message. He’s requesting the Knights of the Hammer of Humanity be sent to the Duchy of Sidius.”

“Knights of the Hammer of Humanity?”

Oren knew only the Oathbound and Bloodline Knights. Sensing his confusion, Dysaia whispered beside him.

“Not surprising. The Hammer of Humanity was formed by ‘Former King’ Iris to target non-humans. Knights drink Demon Blood for superhuman strength. In the Ancient Epoch, they were Iris’s vanguard in countless battles.”

Yamwen nodded. “After the wars, with non-humans fading, they became secret police. They roam the continent, hunting survivors. I saw small non-human groups crushed by them before joining the Crimson Dragon.”

“The critical point,” William added, chin in hand, “is keeping Princess Silver Dragon hidden. If Isaerel learns we collaborate with non-humans, he may break our pact and invade the Duchy. The Elvis Family despises non-humans.”

He fixed Oren with a look that spelled trouble.

“But they’ll send only one knight. Rescue the elf Lacres—taken by Aston last night—and kill that Human Hammer Knight. The knights will chase the elf, ignoring Sidius.”

Oren’s brow furrowed deeply. He leaned over the desk. “Will you shelter that elf?”

“Shelter him? Are you joking?” William’s expression turned strange. “We detained him for leverage. We can’t possibly keep him now.”

“So you’re just thinking of your convenience?” Oren snapped back. “They’re not tools! They have lives! You say ‘save’ him, but where can he run? He’ll be killed by your knights!”

Oren shouted. William slammed his hand on the table, roaring, “What do you know, human raised by non-humans!”

Oren stepped back. William surged forward. “I respect non-humans! But I protect this last ember! Sidius is humanity’s final bastion of freedom and progress! I won’t let the Alliance’s darkness return!”

He gripped Oren’s shoulder, breath heavy. “Humanity must rise! Sidius must never fall! I think for all humans! What do you know? Your mind isn’t human! You’re not human!”

Each word hammered Oren’s chest. Though suffocated, he grabbed William’s arm, locking eyes. “But I am also—”

“Enough, Oren.”

Dysaia pulled him back, shielding him. She faced William calmly. “We accept. We’ll rescue Lacres.”

“Dysaia!”

She pressed a finger to Oren’s lips, then turned to William. “But we have one condition.”

“Speak. I don’t believe in free lunches.”

Dysaia smiled faintly. “I’ve promised the Duke to save his daughter after killing Isaerel. Now this mission. My request is simple and fair.” She took a deep breath. “Afterward, I demand an autonomous zone for non-humans within Sidius. This pact must be magically bound—break it, and your heart explodes.”

Watching William’s tense face, she smiled. “So, Lord William, do you accept?”