"Mirantha, perfect timing! Hold this guy down for me—I’m taking him!"

The Princess Royal’s face lit up at the sight of Mirantha.

*Ahem.* "Your Highness, please mind your language. That’s rather crude."

Mirantha’s rebuke was stern and proper.

*Hey now, Knight Lady—* Wenwu wanted to protest that wording was the least concern here, but the sword in Mirantha’s hand convinced him to stay silent.

"Insolent wretch! Daring to assassinate the Princess Royal for the second time?"

Mirantha advanced on Wenwu, blade raised.

"Misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!" Wenwu yelped, though he was the one who’d been attacked twice by the princess.

"Misunderstanding? You haven’t moved an inch since I walked in! Die, you shameless cur!"

Mirantha raised her sword and swung for Wenwu’s neck.

"Mirantha!" The princess snapped. "Did you not hear me? I said *hold* him—not kill him."

"But Your Highness, what he did to you—"

"Do you not understand my orders?"

"You’re betrothed! If word gets out—"

"Enough! If you won’t help, wait outside. I don’t need lessons on how to act."

"…Understood."

Mirantha retreated, shooting Wenwu a glare that promised vengeance if he harmed the princess. Wenwu nodded vigorously, as if he’d deciphered the threat.

After Mirantha left, the princess snapped her fingers. "Your Puppetry is fully undone. Get up. I’ve abruptly lost interest."

Wenwu breathed a sigh of relief—he’d narrowly escaped death.

"Your Highness," he ventured, "let’s discuss business. You brought me from the execution grounds for more than… *that*, surely?"

"True," the princess said, dressing herself. "I need a favor."

"A favor?" Wenwu was baffled. What could a royal princess possibly want from an obscure commoner like him?

"Frankly," she continued, "during our… *activities* to balance my yin-yang energies, I used Dark Magic to absorb some of your Essence Energy. At the end, you released a liquid packed with massive Essence Energy. I don’t know why it’s so potent, but you’re different—you possess a vast reservoir, far beyond ordinary people."

Bold as her actions were, the princess seemed oddly naive about basic biology.

"Ah, pardon my interruption, Your Highness," Wenwu asked carefully, "but whose Essence Energy have you absorbed besides mine?"

"Mirantha’s."

"And the method?"

"Kissing."

Wenwu’s mind instantly conjured two women embracing—a breathtaking image.

"Problem?" she pressed.

"N-no! Of course not. Please continue."

"The Essence Energy I drew from Mirantha was less than a tenth of yours. And you can release far more whenever I wish—without risking your life."

Wenwu had doubted Silver’s earlier claim about his uniqueness in the dungeon. Now, hearing it from the princess herself, he finally believed he wasn’t ordinary.

"I suspected absorbing your Essence Energy enabled my new Dark Magic. Just now, I confirmed it: this spell demands massive Essence Energy. Repeating *that* every time is impractical. I need a vessel to store it."

"Your Highness," Wenwu interjected, "I’m no mage, but isn’t magic usually powered by *mana*? Why Essence Energy?"

"Because it’s *Dark* Magic."

The brief explanation made unsettling sense.

"So… what do you need me to do?"

"I just said: fetch the vessel to store Essence Energy."

"What is it?"

"An Elf’s Heart!"