Hols stood with his hands behind his back and let out a long sigh. "You've probably realized it by now," he said. "Those who ca chasing the bounty—more precisely, chasing you to the Jacob Ruins—were all trusted elites, ticulously cultivated by the major powers at great expense."
"And today, they've all died here in this ruin. Even if you try to deny it, rumors will start spreading among the nations that you were the one who killed them. As a result, these powerful factions will stop at nothing. They'll send even more elite agents to hunt you down."
"That alone is troubleso enough, but the real threats are the NK Kingdom and the elusive Dark Mage Mutual Aid Society. The forr cares deeply about its international image—its so-called dignity. With their Sixth Prince dead by your hand, the British royal family will be outraged and will demand your head as compensation. If they don't retaliate, the entire NK Kingdom will beco the laughingstock of other nations."
"And the Dark Mage Mutual Aid Society? They're even more dangerous. They're a small organization to begin with, and training a competent mber takes enormous effort. That's why their leader values each and every mber as if they were precious gems."
"There are even rumors that the mbers call each other 'family.' Killing that shadow mage… to them, it's no different than committing patricide or matricide. Do you think they'll just let that go?"
At this point, Hols paused, watching Alan closely for a reaction.
"And one more thing I must remind you of," he continued. "The Jacob Ruins are located within the borders of the Kent Kingdom. Although all the factions want you dead, they still need the cover of the official bounty to move against you in public."
"After all, they can't afford to trample on the host nation's dignity too blatantly."
"But this latest failure will teach them a lesson. They'll realize that things like the rule of law and moral constraints don't matter when it cos to accomplishing their mission. The next wave of attacks will be more brutal—more dangerous."
Alan nodded solemnly, then gave Hols a respectful bow.
"Thank you for the warning, Mr. Hols. I'll keep your words in mind."
Hols chuckled.
"Haha, no need to be so stiff. The current international climate is like a tightly strung web—tug one thread, and the whole thing shakes. Everyone wants you dead, but no one dares act rashly. As the saying goes, 'the bird that sticks its head out gets shot.' If any nation sends too many elites abroad, their own internal defense will weaken. That's a risk none of them are willing to take."
"Except for one nation."
Hols smiled mysteriously as he looked at Alan.
"Do you know which one?"
Alan shook his head. "I don't."
Hols revealed the answer with a grin. "Why, the Principality of Felice, of course. Just like Claude's holand—the United Kingdom of Braid—it's a democratic nation. While the major powers do have so influence in our country, the ones truly in charge are the people."
"Because of this system, Felice is a land where almost everyone is a mage—from the elderly to children. Compared to the Plantagenet Kingdom, Felice offers a far richer environnt for magical growth. I look forward to seeing you there soday."
With that, Hols finally activated a teleportation array. As it glowed beneath him, he gave Alan a wave, and his figure vanished into thin air.
Francis stared at the spot where Hols had disappeared, his expression strange. After a mont, he scratched his chin and muttered, "So after all that speech… he was just inviting us to go visit the Principality of Felice?"
Third Princess Rosalia scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. He was clearly inviting Alan. What does that have to do with you?"
"Felice might not be well-known internationally these days, but that doesn't an they're weak. Like Hols said, almost every citizen is a mage. When quantity reaches a certain point, it creates quality. That's why any mage who receives an invitation to visit Felice must be a top-tier powerhouse."
"The only reason Hols extended such a generous invitation to Alan is because he genuinely acknowledges his strength and wants to build a connection. As for you… not even remotely related."
Francis lowered his head at once. He hadn't expected his offhand remark to earn him such a thorough dressing-down.
Clearly, Rosalia was still holding a grudge over his earlier jab about her and Alan's ambiguous relationship.
Seeing that Francis was practically curled up on the floor, Rosalia sighed and turned her attention back to Alan.
"You should leave," she said.
"Leave?" Alan blinked. "Leave where?"
Rosalia casually pointed off in a random direction. Her tone was serious. "Anywhere. As long as it's not here—not the Plantagenet Kingdom. Go sowhere desolate and uninhabited. The farther, the better."
Alan imdiately understood her aning—and flatly refused. "I'm not leaving."
"Why not?"
Rosalia stood up abruptly and grabbed Alan's arm with both hands.
"You heard what Hols said! Every major faction is going to be targeting you now. Not even I, or the entire Plantagenet Kingdom's elite, can guarantee your safety from those assassins."
"Leaving is your only chance."
"My grandfather once told that soone who faces danger head-on is a hero—but soone who walks blindly into certain death is just a fool!"
"I… I don't want you to be a fool…"
Alan grinned and spread his hands. "Then I'm sorry, Princess. I am the fool you're talking about."
"And... Your Highness, have you ever considered this?"
"Considered what?"
Alan turned serious. "If I leave... what happens to our upperclassman? To Francis? What about Sirius Academy?"
"Isabella and I—we're used to running. We can pack up and hit the road at a mont's notice. But the others? They can't. For the upperclassman, Sirius Academy is her ho. And Stephen didn't just place a bounty on —he marked everyone at Sirius Academy."
"The only reason they're not being targeted yet is because they're too weak, or because my bounty is higher. But if I disappear, those enemies will shift their focus. They'll go after them."
"Maybe even... you."
Alan slowly lifted his hand and pointed directly at Rosalia.
The last thing he wanted was for anyone close to him to get hurt because of him.
Isabella was his family. But all these friends—these companions who had been by his side—Alan saw them as family too.
Sensing that the atmosphere was getting too heavy, Francis tried to force a smile. He patted his chest and said, "Hey, my good brother, why worry so much? When push cos to shove, we'll figure it out. The most important thing right now is that you and little Isabella—"
Before he could finish, Alan cut him off. "Don't say another word."
He then pulled Isabella tightly into his embrace.
Word by word, with a voice full of resolve, Alan declared, "The trouble we've stirred up... my sister and I will face it ourselves."
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