“Are you sure it’s her?”

At Snowpeak, inside the Iron Fortress, Venia Ilenfono sat by the fireplace, slowly sipping red wine to the sound of classical music. Behind him, a woman in silver Might Armor knelt on one knee.

The fireplace was the room’s only source of light. Outside the window, a blizzard raged, shutting out every trace of light.

“We’re certain, Young Master,” Yelena said, head bowed, golden hair falling smoothly from either side of her face. “She’s the Sixth Seat of the Blade of Babel, the Pure White Fireworks. She killed Aleph Stello during the Charon District Rebellion.”

“If you’re certain, then I’ll leave her to you.”

Venia set his wineglass on the table and slowly rose to his feet—

“The Angel of the Iron Covenant Guard has never let me down.”

Yelena raised her head. Venia was looking down at her, his black hair—just like his father’s—gleaming gold in the firelight.

“Thank you for your trust. The investigators under my command have already located the target and are tracking her in real time.” Yelena slowly stood. With the help of her Might Armor, she was about a head taller than Venia. “The moment we get an opening...”

“You’ll take her out on the spot. Right?”

As he spoke, Venia poured red wine into another glass on the table.

“Yes,” Yelena replied firmly.

“Mm... I don’t need to teach you how to deal with Academy trash, do I?” Venia handed Yelena the glass of wine. “Take care of this properly.”

“Understood.” Yelena took the wine and drained it in one go. Watching her drink with such gusto, Venia gave a faint smile.

The doorbell rang. As if he’d known who was coming all along, Venia chuckled softly, returned to the chair by the fire, and turned his back to Yelena.

“All right. My dear brother’s here... Go do what you have to do, Angel.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

As she spoke, Yelena set her glass on the table and turned toward the door. She opened it to find a cloaked figure standing outside.

“Wow, what lovely golden hair, miss,” the figure beneath the hood said, looking Yelena up and down. “Happy hunting.”

“Worry about yourself, Scavenger.” Yelena stared at the figure, her tone no longer remotely respectful. “This isn’t the Federation. No one’s going to collect your corpse for you.”

“All right, all right. I get it. You Dibithe people are tough.”

Ivar Saikepasi pulled down his hood. His dark green eyes narrowed in the blizzard, but the murderous look in them was impossible to hide.

The famous Third Seat of the Blade of Babel, Ivar Saikepasi, the Scavenger. In Yelena’s eyes, he was nothing more than another lapdog of the Federation.

Yelena clicked her tongue in disdain, then brushed past Ivar and walked alone into the vast white expanse.

“Wow... She’s not very friendly, is she? Heh heh heh...”

Ivar’s laughter came from behind her, but Yelena ignored him. In the blizzard, she lifted her head. A pair of iron wings suddenly unfolded from the back of her Might Armor. Blue Factor Energy slowly filled the tips of their feathers, shining brilliantly through the storm.

Yelena, the Angel of the Dibithe Iron Covenant Guard.

Federation people... Not a decent one among them. With that thought, Yelena gathered her strength and shot straight into the sky. She was going to Lodun. She was going to find the Pure White Fireworks and kill her.

......

“Looks like you’ve been followed.”

When the investigator in Might Armor ducked into the tavern, everyone inside panicked and retreated to a corner. Pace couldn’t blame them. An investigator in Might Armor stood at least two meters tall, and rain from outside still clung to the gray steel plating over the exoskeleton.

The investigator’s visor was open. Their eyes slowly swept over the people in the tavern before finally settling on Pollyce.

MK-21 “Rampart” Might Armor, a military model from Dibithe. Sweat beaded at Pace’s temple. This was a real Dibithe soldier...

“I’m an investigator with Dibithe’s Infinite Iron Legion. I’m searching for outsiders who’ve infiltrated Lodun.” The investigator fixed their gaze on Pollyce, as if checking that they had the right target. “If you’d be so kind...”

Pollyce tightened her grip on the Butterfly Knife and started forward, but Pace instinctively stepped in front of her to shield her.

“Huh?”

Pace’s instinctive move caught Pollyce off guard. Like an older brother protecting his little sister, he gently nudged her back and stepped forward himself.

“The tavern’s closed. Please leave,” Pace said, his earlier flippant tone gone. Now he sounded every bit the head of a family. “The Legion isn’t welcome here.”

The investigator watched Pace for a moment, then smiled knowingly.

“I can understand why you’d resent the Legion, heir to the Monak Family. I hear business is so bad your family can barely scrape by in this dump of a city.”

“How do I put this... I think dying as a Dibithe dog would be more pitiful than starving to death.” Pace slowly reached for the axe behind his back. The tension in the air thickened again. “Want me to take pity on you?”

“You can insult me all you want. I don’t care. That’s all a defeated dog can do—bark.” The investigator raised their voice by an octave. “I had no reason to cause trouble for you today...”

“You never had a reason... Since when do you get to—”

“But,” the investigator shouted, cutting Pace off. Their gaze shifted to Pollyce, hidden behind him. “Are you sure you want to give the Iron Lord a reason to wipe out your entire family?”

The investigator extended an arm covered in Might Armor and pointed at Pollyce:

“Are you trying to hide a member of the Blade of Babel?”

“....”

For a while, no one in the tavern said a word. In the heavy silence, the rain outside seemed to grow even harder.

“Wait... what?”

Pace turned around, looking at Pollyce in disbelief.

“You’re with the Blade of Babel?”

“Mm-hm... I am...” Pollyce tilted her head and answered uncertainly. “Why?”

“The Blade of Babel, the Academy Federation’s strongest fighting force?”

“I said I was...”

“Then how’d they track you here, with your elite counter-surveillance skills?” Pace practically shouted, leaning right into Pollyce’s face. She flinched back. “Are you sure you’re not just pretending to be one of them?”

Pollyce stared at Pace, looking more and more confused. The next words out of her mouth stunned everyone:

“Counter-surveillance... Mm... But I’m not very good at counter-surveillance...”

“.....”

The tavern fell silent. Pace turned around with a dark look on his face. The Dibithe investigator in Might Armor was nearly a head taller than him. What kind of rotten luck did he have to run into this today...?

“Are you two done talking?”

The investigator drew a large-caliber revolver from their waist and aimed it at Pace.

“If you’re done, put your hands where I can see them. I’m arresting all of you for hiding an unauthorized outsider.”

Ah... Damn. This was really the end of the line. Pace nervously gripped the axe at his waist behind him. At this distance, he had no chance of fighting a Dibithe investigator with a gun. The tavern staff all had guns, but their enemy was wearing Might Armor. Bullets weren’t going to punch through those steel plates so easily.

“Ah... This is bad...”

Just as Pace struggled to figure out what to do, a streak of white darted past him—

“You!”

The investigator reacted instantly and fired two shots from the revolver, but the white blur deflected them.

“How could—”

The next second, Pollyce swung with pinpoint precision at the investigator’s neck. Her Butterfly Knife spun, brimming with Factor Energy, and sliced through the armor as easily as if it were paper, severing their neck.

“Gah... aaah... ah...”

The massive figure clutched at their neck and fell to the floor. They convulsed a few times, then stopped moving.

From Pace’s perspective, the fight was over before he’d even managed to see what happened.

“You... Ah... How... They just...?”

Pace stared in shock as Pollyce expertly spun her Butterfly Knife twice and slipped it back into her sleeve. She’d just taken down a Dibithe investigator in Might Armor in an instant, but she didn’t seem to have any strange victory speech or anything to say about it.

“See? They’re weak. Counter-surveillance is such a pain. It’s much easier to let them come to you.” Pollyce walked slowly up to Pace. Her usually blank face suddenly broke into a mischievous smile. “They couldn’t beat me anyway. Ehehe~”

“Ah... Okay...”

Pace covered his head, clearly still trying to process what had happened. Hearing someone say “Might Armor is weak” made reality feel surreal. He’d never seen Might Armor go down in his life, let alone watched a seemingly delicate girl knock one out with such ease.

Remembering how he’d just tried to sneak up on Pollyce with an axe, Pace broke out in a cold sweat.

If she hadn’t found him useful, he’d probably be on his way to his own funeral by now.

The thought made Pace clear his throat uneasily before speaking:

“So, Miss Blade of Babel, what exactly do you want with me?”

“I’m looking for someone.” Pollyce’s mischievous smile faded, and her usual detached expression returned. “I want to ask about a name.”

“So... why are you asking me to help you find someone?” Pace looked at Pollyce, baffled. “Do I look like an information broker?”

“How should I know...? I just saw two idiots on the street acting like they were on patrol. They didn’t seem like those annoying Dibithe soldiers...”

“Hey...” Vance felt personally attacked. “Could you be any ruder?”

“...I just thought their boss might be somebody important...” Pollyce continued mumbling, ignoring Vance. “Who knew it’d be you... some fallen Young Master.”

“Hey, could you stop badmouthing people to their faces?” Pace covered his face and sighed, then gave in with a resigned look. “Fine. Since you helped me, who is it you want to ask about?”

At the mention of the person she was looking for, the light in Pollyce’s eyes dimmed a little.

“His name...”

Pollyce’s voice dropped, her tone turning colder.

“Ivar Saikepasi.”

“....”

“I-Ivar?” Vance suddenly blurted out, making Pollyce flinch. “You mean Ivar Saikepasi?”

“Mm... Y-yes.” Pollyce pursed her lips in surprise at his unexpectedly intense reaction. “Do you know him?”

“Of course I fucking know that damn Ivar Saikepasi!” Vance exclaimed as he walked over to Pace and patted him on the shoulder. “You came to the right place, man—”

Pace suddenly raised a hand, stopping Vance from saying anything more. Only then did Pollyce notice that Pace, who’d been so full of energy moments ago, had his head bowed, his face hidden in shadow. No one in the tavern dared to speak. The old butler watched his young master, worry spreading across his aged face.

Wait... Did he really know him...?

“The person you’re looking for,” Pace said, raising his head. His eyes blazed with such fury that Pollyce flinched again. “You mean Ivar Saikepasi, the Third Seat of the Blade of Babel, known as the Scavenger. Right?”

“Y-yes.” Faced with this completely different side of Pace, Pollyce didn’t know what to do. “D-do you know him?”

Pace stared at Pollyce. Memories of the past flickered in his dark eyes.

“I know him.”

The little girl by the frozen lake, running toward him.

“Of course I know him.”

The corpse lying beside the fireplace.

Pace Monak’s eyes were bloodshot, reflecting his hatred.

“Ivar Saikepasi...”

“Big brother, when are you coming home?”

His little sister’s young voice rang in his ears. Years later, hatred filled Pace’s heart once more.

“He killed my little sister.”

......