Lira stood stiffly in the guest chamber when Ryn and Alia entered, her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron. Her pale-blonde hair was already tied back neatly—she had done that herself, as if preparing for judgnt.
She swallowed when she saw them.
Ryn closed the door behind him.
"We’ll be direct," he said.
Lira nodded, though her posture was trembling.
Alia stepped closer. "Baron Hayes told you why you’re here?"
Lira hesitated before answering.
"That soone... wants you dead, my lady. And that they don’t know your face."
Alia exhaled. "Then you understand what we need."
Ryn’s voice ca next, calm but firm.
"They’re searching by na. If they believe you’re Alia, even briefly, then their focus stays off the real one."
"You won’t fight and will stay in a heavily guarded area. Your job is only to be seen."
Lira stood straight, but Ryn could see the tremble in her hands. Alia stepped closer, not as the noble heir, but as a girl next to another.
Alia hesitated. Then, softly:
"Lira... before we go any further, I need to ask you sothing."
Lira blinked, breath catching. "My lady...?"
"This is dangerous," Alia said, almost whispering it.
"More dangerous than the Baron explained. If you feel pressured, or if you agreed because nobles asked it of you... then say so. We will not force you."
A beat of silence.
Lira looked down at her own hands — then slowly curled them into fists.
"I didn’t agree because of pressure," she whispered. "Or because you’re nobles."
She looked up, and there was no hesitation left in her eyes.
"I agreed because... if the monster wave hits Dumos, my family won’t survive the evacuation."
Alia’s breath stilled.
Lira continued, voice steady despite the tremor in her throat:
"My mother can’t walk far. And my little brother...he tends the eastern fields. Monsters will reach them first. If pretending to be you keeps the attackers confused... even for a little while... that’s more ti for you to handle the wave."
She swallowed hard.
"I know the risk. Truly, I do. But if this gives them a chance... I’ll take it."
Alia’s expression softened with a mix of guilt and sothing like admiration.
"Lira... you shouldn’t have to make that kind of sacrifice."
Lira shook her head firmly.
"You’re protecting the entire territory, my lady. This is the one thing I can do.
And if that ans standing in your place... then I will."
Alia nodded and didn’t press any further.
Ryn decided to step outside the room. Seed like Alia had the situation handled.
He barely closed the door before Ardan rounded the corner, boots heavy from long patrols. The captain took one look at Ryn’s expression and matched his pace without a word.
Ryn spoke first, voice low.
"Any news from the rchants?"
Ardan shook his head once—curt, frustrated.
"Nothing. We questioned the handlers you flagged, discreetly. They gave the sa story: late contracts, anonymous buyers, paid in advance."
Ryn’s jaw tightened. "So nothing useful."
"Nothing new," Ardan corrected. "And the ones handling raw shipnts? Vanished. As if they never existed in the first place."
Ardan’s expression darkened. "They’re thorough..."
"I’ll keep digging. But Young Master... this feels like a dead trail."
Ryn’s gaze sharpened, sensing the shift in the air again.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "They will."
He didn’t get a chance to say more, as Alia erged from the guest room with Lira at her side.
Or rather... with another Alia.
Lira wore Alia’s cloak now, the Grandal crest pinned to her chest, her pale hair tied the sa way, her posture held with practiced nobility. A touch of powder softened her features, muting her fear into sothing that looked like quiet dignity.
For a split second, even Ardan blinked—his eyes flicking between the real Alia and the imitation.
"Good," Alia said softly, though the tightness in her jaw betrayed her nerves.
"Stay close to the knights. Don’t speak unless spoken to. And if anyone asks you to move sowhere alone—"
Lira finished for her, voice thin but firm,
"I refuse. And I stay in sight."
"Exactly."
At twenty paces, in poor lighting, with guards flanking her... she would absolutely pass.
He nodded.
"You’ll do fine."
Alia hesitated, then squeezed Lira’s hand.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Lira shook her head.
"Just... keep the real danger away from my family. That’s all I ask."
Ardan motioned with two fingers.
"Escort Lady Alia."
Four Arctis knights fell into formation around her—shields out, spears angled. The performance was flawless.
Once Lira and her escorts stepped into full view of the courtyard, the murmurs from below swelled. Exactly what the decoy was ant to inspire.
Ryn watched just long enough to confirm the disguise was holding.
Then he leaned slightly toward Alia.
"Let’s go," he murmured.
Alia pulled her hood down lower, letting the shadow swallow half her face.
Together, with practiced subtlety, they slipped into the side passage while every pair of eyes remained fixed on the "Lady Alia" waving from the balcony.
The mont they rounded the corner, Alia let out a tight breath.
"I hate how easy that was."
Ryn shrugged. "People see what they want to see."
From a side passage, they quickly reached the city central.
The plaza was tense. People hurried across the open square carrying crates, water barrels, and bags of grain. Scouts moved between rooftops. A pair of priests alongside dics had made camps nearby, already treating so injured.
Alia slowed for a mont, stunned by how fast Deimos was turning into a fortress.
Ryn nudged her forward. "Don’t stop. We’re almost there."
After several turns, the narrow path opened up to the eastern stone wall towered above the district. The stairs leading up to it were crowded with knights.
Ryn and Alia rged in with a group of soldiers carrying crates, using them as cover to ascend unnoticed.
The higher they climbed, the clearer the tension beca.
The eastern wall buzzed with activity.
Ballista crews mounted weapons, archers lined the ramparts, and runners carried urgent ssages from one end to the other.
Waiting for them near the central battlent tower stood a broad-shouldered man in steel half-plate, arms folded as if carved from the wall itself.
The Deimos Knight Commander.
His graying hair was tied back, his scarred cheek catching the cold light. When he spotted the two cloaked figures stepping onto the wall, he lifted his chin in silent recognition.
"Young Master Arctis. Lady Alia."
"The Baron sent word you’d co."
Alia stiffened under her hood. "Did he now..."
"He said to expect the real pair," the commander added, lowering his voice.
"And to treat anyone else as a decoy."
Ryn blinked.
Baron Hayes really was two steps ahead.
The commander gave a curt bow.
"Thank you for coming. Deimos is honored."
"No need for that," Ryn said. "Status?"
"Everything is prepared, we’ve co up with a strategy." the commander said, pulling a small map out from his back pocket.
"Now, this part concerns the two of you."
The commander lowered his voice.
"Lady Alia... the Baron instructed that you are to be treated as our trump card."
Alia blinked. "Trump card?"
He nodded firmly.
"Your Blessing is known. Your power is... with all due respect—excessive. If you unleash your full flas, you could destroy our fertile lands."
Alia frowned, but nodded.
"But," the commander continued, "that’s why we won’t use you unless absolutely necessary."
Ryn narrowed his eyes slightly. "Explain."
The commander pointed at the wall.
"If the monsters breach the primary line, we’ll use a signal, pulling the line back to safety so Lady Grandal can strike."
The commander continued.
"One decisive burst. Enough to break montum, not enough for enemies to identify your full capabilities."
Ryn nodded slowly. "So minimize exposure."
"Exactly," the commander said. "We can’t risk information about your power spreading to whoever is pulling the strings behind this."
Alia exhaled. "Understood."
The commander then turned to Ryn.
"And you, Young Master Arctis. You’ll operate as mobile reinforcent behind the first—"
"No," Ryn said.
The Commander stopped mid-breath. Alia turned to him, eyes narrowing beneath her hood.
Ryn kept his gaze on the map, but his mind was already racing.
He couldn’t afford to stand in the back. Not anymore. Every fight he’d survived so far had pushed his stats higher.
And with the way things were escalating...he needed that growth.
The Cult wasn’t slowing down. Whatever was driving the monster wave wasn’t either. If he stayed passive, the opportunity would pass—like what happened before his regression. Then he’d be useless when Alia needed him most.
Ryn curled his hand into a fist. He couldn’t rely on his Blessings and luck anymore. He needed to level up as aggressively as possible. After all, he did possess the only ’Unique Panel’ in the world.
Ti to put it to good use.
He lifted his head, voice firm.
"Put in the front lines."
The Commander blinked. "That’s where casualties hit first."
"I know."
Alia’s eyes widened beneath her hood.
"Ryn—why would you—?"
He just smiled.
"I’ll be fine. A little progression wouldn’t hurt."
She froze. "What?!"
"Progress," Ryn corrected smoothly. "Growth. Whatever you want to call it."
The Commander exhaled, resigned.
"Front line it is. You’ll be on the right flank."
The Commander had barely finished speaking when Ryn’s head snapped up.
A faint vibration brushed against his senses
The others hadn’t noticed, but thanks to his Blessing, a chill crawled down his spine.
...Tremor?
He stepped toward the battlent edge, scanning the wheat fields.
Ryn’s eyes narrowed. "Commander."
The man turned. "What is it—"
A third tremor hit, rattling a loose bolt on the nearest ballista.
Ryn’s voice dropped.
"They’re close."
Alia stiffened. "Already?"
He didn’t answer. His gaze stayed locked on the golden fields as the first ripple cut through them—subtle at first, then widening, bending the stalks against the wind.
The Commander paled. "Archers! Ready!"
More soldiers scrambled into position.
Ryn exhaled once, steady and sharp.
"Get ready."
A heartbeat later, the earth split open with a roar, as the first monsters broke into sight.
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