In the middle of the bedroom, at the oak table, Lan Qi Huperion and the imperial princess sat facing each other.
Their gazes converged on the three sheets of parchnt laid out before them, as if the secrets of the entire Kreyth Empire were hidden within those pages.
It was deep into the night. The world outside was so quiet it felt abandoned, leaving this room alone, suspended outside the river of ti.
The overwhelming fear that had nearly drowned Alexia receded along with the disappearance of the Poet of Great Love. She breathed deeply, like soone breaking the water’s surface after nearly drowning, finally regaining control of her emotions.
A long silence.
“I believe your intelligence is accurate… but… who exactly are you?”
Alexia’s eyes tightened at the corners, her lips stiff. Even now, her voice couldn’t shake off that indescribable tension.
“I’m an ecologist, currently researching the subject of bloodkin.”
Lan Qi’s gaze was sharp as a blade, every word heavy, as if carrying real weight.
Although, with his platinum-level card master credentials, he could already secure a teaching position at Ikerite Academy, the path to becoming its headmaster was still far ahead.
Currently, the principal’s seat at Ikerite was vacant. Professor Polao of the School of Magi-Engineering had no interest in power, the head of the Knight Academy was a retired veteran rehired temporarily, the Sage Academy’s dean Loren was also High Priest of the Goddess of Fate and had little ti, while the Alchemy Dean was endlessly tied up in lawsuits due to his newspaper’s copyright disputes—he might end up imprisoned at any mont.
To assu leadership of such a prestigious institution—officially recognized by both the Southern Continent Shadow World Managent Association and the United Parliant of the Southern Kingdoms—required not just reputation, but an academic feat of the highest order.
One of the most difficult requirents: authoring a thesis recognized as having the highest academic value in the entire Southern Continent.
Even within all of Ikerite, only a handful of professors t this condition—evidence of just how impossibly demanding it was.
For Lan Qi, the most formidable topic he could think of was “On Ecological Balance and the Governance of Bloodkin.”
He wasn’t sure if the academic community would recognize it.
But research, after all, required that attitude: to give it your all, aiming for the summit.
“...?”
Alexia had never heard of an “ecologist who could govern bloodkin.”
anwhile, Huperion glanced sideways at Lan Qi, eyelids twitching—this guy was about to stir up big trouble again!
The northern expedition to study the ancient stone tablets wasn’t even underway yet, and here he was already planning research into the Kreyth Empire’s ecological crisis!
If you’re not headmaster material, then who is?
And if things kept going this way, even if Huperion didn’t want to involve Lan Qi in the Duke’s murder mystery, he’d throw himself into the heart of the empire’s bloody entanglents anyway!
Alexia, however, took Lan Qi’s answer as a joke. After pondering a mont, she pressed again:
“What is your relationship with the bloodkin?”
Her nerves were taut, full of vigilance.
This boy knew far too many secrets.
Only two possibilities:
Either he was a dog of the bloodkin.
Or their sworn enemy.
Alexia was sure Lan Qi wasn’t one of them—the bloodkin were the easiest race to identify. In sunlight, their strength dropped drastically; at noon, they were reduced to a re fraction of their power. No way could soone like Lan Qi stroll around under the blazing sun so effortlessly.
But… could he be a thrall?
It was more believable than assuming he simply possessed supernatural foresight.
Lan Qi shrugged, almost sympathetically.
“Tomorrow, you’ll know exactly what my relationship with the bloodkin is.”
Indeed, there was no way to explain his sources.
But that didn’t matter.
He could prove it in action—tonight.
“Tomorrow? Even if you know more than anyone, what difference does it make?”
Her brief spark of hope guttered out at his words, replaced by the grim reality:
In this Shadow World, death was inevitable.
Against a seventh-tier bloodkin count, there was no chance.
No challenger had ever lasted until the sixth dawn.
“...”
Lan Qi drumd his fingers lightly on the table, the sound cutting through the silence like a blade.
At last, he spoke:
“To think a re bloodkin count could scare you like this. If the entire royal family of Kreyth is like you, no wonder the empire was taken so easily.”
Huperion looked at him in surprise. She’d never seen Lan Qi speak so harshly to a girl.
But those words struck sothing deep in Alexia.
Like a puppet wound back to life, she jerked upright, glaring at him, eyes reddening—her deepest pride had been touched.
“You… you can call a useless princess… but you are not allowed to insult the Kreyth Empire!”
Her eyes brimd with tears, the last of her stubborn dignity shining through.
Even when she had given up, so things she simply could not let go.
“You say there’s no tomorrow—then what are you even clinging to?”
Lan Qi smiled faintly at her sudden fire, satisfied.
“Insulting the royal family—that’s a cri. Don’t think I’ll forget it!” she warned through tears.
“Good. Then take to court later. I’ll show you what it ans to be the Southern Continent’s unbeatable player.”
He grinned easily.
“Fine then! Go kill that count first, big talker!”
“And if I really do kill him? What then?”
“Then… whatever you say goes. Not that you could ever do it.”
“...”
To Huperion, Lan Qi sounded like he was teasing a child. But sohow, those taunts only kept fanning the flas of Alexia’s stubborn will.
Even she didn’t realize her survival instinct had been quietly reignited.
“Alright.”
Lan Qi rose, smiling, and pushed his chair neatly under the table. The scrape of wood against stone echoed in the large room.
He walked with Huperion to the door.
The princess didn’t need to fight tonight. Better, in fact, if the outside world believed she had done nothing, stayed uninvolved.
After all, she still had to live under the bloodkin’s watchful eyes in the empire. Raising suspicion now would be dangerous.
He closed the door gently behind him.
“Please rest well, Your Highness. I promise the sun will rise tomorrow.”
As the door shut, his voice and his face both disappeared into the darkness.
Alexia stared at the locked door, dazed.
His promise sounded empty, like a lie.
Yet… her heart burned with a strange fire again.
She turned to the window.
The stars were faint, blurred. It would be a long night.
But if she could really see the sun rise again tomorrow…
Then the one who brought that light to her—how could he be anything less than the sun itself?
“Save … no matter what kind of sun you are…”
Her words, soft as a prayer, drifted into the night sky that hung over her like a cage.
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