Mandira furrowed her brow, visibly confused. "What are you even talking about?"
She turned to Shennong, hoping for so explanation.
"Do you know what she’s talking about?"
Shennong simply shrugged. "No idea."
Princess Maria stood by the doorway, her expression unreadable. Without saying another word, she raised her hand slightly, and the guards around her dispersed without protest. The doors clicked shut behind her as she stepped fully into the room, her boots making soft thuds against the polished stone floor.
"I can feel it," Maria muttered. "Sothing’s going on here."
Mandira stiffened, preparing for confrontation, but Maria’s gaze remained locked on Shennong.
"But that’s not what I’m interested in," Maria added, eyes narrowing. "It’s you."
She marched forward, closing the distance between her and Shennong in an instant. Her eyes scanned him, intense and focused, traveling from his face down to his boots as if asuring every inch of him.
Shennong tilted his head slightly, clearly unimpressed. "Can I help you?"
Suddenly, Maria unsheathed her slender blade with a tallic shing! and swung it in one smooth arc.
"Wait—!" Mandira gasped, taking a step back in alarm.
But it was already over.
The only thing that had been cut... was Shennong’s shirt. A clean line across the fabric left it falling in two pieces, revealing his torso—muscular, scarred, and honed like a warrior who had survived many battles.
Mandira blinked. "Why did you—?"
Maria didn’t answer. She just stared.
So did Mandira.
"...Wow," Mandira muttered under her breath, quickly looking away.
Shennong looked down at his ruined shirt, then up at Maria with a bored expression. "Is it over now? Can I leave? We just ca to pick up a few things."
"No," Maria said firmly. "You’re not leaving. Not until you tell who you really are."
Shennong let out a long sigh. "I’m a crafter. My shop is crafting. I have no ill intentions. I’m just doing my best to survive in this insane world."
"That’s not what I ant," Maria said, stepping closer again. Her eyes, normally playful and sweet, now burned with determination. "I’m not asking what you do. I’m asking where you co from."
"I don’t know," Shennong replied flatly. "I was abandoned as a child. No mories of my parents or where I ca from. A kind woman found and raised . That’s all."
Maria’s eyes widened, sparkling with emotion. "No way..."
Shennong raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
"All this ti... my feelings weren’t wrong," Maria whispered, her voice trembling. "The vision that mage woman showed ... she said I’d et soone special here. I thought it was a joke. But—"
"What do you an?" Mandira asked, still catching up.
Maria took a deep breath, then shouted, "This man—he’s my brother!"
The room fell silent.
"I still rember the day he was born!" Maria continued. "That day... the palace was in chaos. My mother—she gave birth, I saw it! I heard his cries. But then the emperor—my father—declared that the child had died."
Her hands clenched into fists.
"But I knew he was alive. I knew it in my heart!"
Mandira looked between the two of them, eyes wide. "Now that you ntion it... I can’t help but notice the resemblance."
Both Shennong and Maria had similar sharp eyes, a similar nose. The shape of their jaw. The more Mandira looked, the more obvious it beca.
Shennong, however, didn’t look moved.
"If I am... then I don’t care," he said, brushing off the remaining scraps of his shirt. "I wasn’t expecting to et this so-called family. I already have one."
He turned, beginning to gather up the items Mandira had collected earlier.
"I’m not interested in royal drama," he added, storing the tools, crystals, and scrolls into his inventory one by one. "Princess Maria, you shouldn’t waste your ti on . There are more pressing matters. This land... it’s on the brink of war."
Mandira gave a small nod. "He’s right. Things are escalating. Fast."
But Maria shook her head.
"No," she said. "You’re coming with . Whether you like it or not."
Shennong paused. "What?"
"You’re my brother," Maria said, pointing a finger at his chest. "And I’m going to prove to you how amazing our bond is. I’ll show you what it ans to be family. You’ve spent too long alone."
"Congratulations," Shennong replied dryly, turning away. "Hope that goes well."
And with that, he walked straight past her, heading for the exit.
"Wait—!" Maria called out.
But Shennong didn’t stop. As he reached the door, he turned slightly. "Mandira, let’s go."
Mandira hesitated only a second before nodding. "I’ll explain everything later," she told Maria. "But right now, I’ve got to go."
"W-Wait! Mandira!" Maria reached out, but the Archmage had already joined Shennong.
Shennong suddenly jumped into the tunnel he built..
And just like that, the two vanished into the tunnel after shennong masterfully closed the entrance of the tunnel as if there was no sign of any digging.
Maria stood frozen in the room, clutching the torn piece of Shennong’s shirt that had fluttered to the floor. Her grip trembled.
"...I found you," she whispered. "I won’t let you leave just like that. You’re the reaosn why our mother went insane."
***
Back in the heart of the dungeon, the main chamber buzzed with movent. Crystal lamps glowed along the walls, casting soft light over the polished stone and the busy figures inside.
Mandira stood in the center with Shennong, surrounded by magical tools, scrolls, and components. They were preparing sothing important—sothing risky. By their side were Rilith and Velara, the ever-grinning succubus duo, and Cassandra Percival, the baroness who had once employed Shennong and now looked at him very differently.
Cassandra’s eyes lingered on him as he set down a crate of summoning chalks. There was a quiet thoughtfulness in her expression, almost disbelief.
Mandira leaned in beside her and whispered under her breath, "She called him her brother. That ans if it’s true, he’s not just a prince... he’s the prince. Heir to the Empire’s bloodline."
Cassandra blinked hard. "I knew this boy was special... but this special? I don’t even know how to react."
"If word of this reaches the Empire or Sturgon, it’ll cause a storm," Mandira muttered. "Especially now—with tensions as high as they are..."
Cassandra nodded. "And the Emperor—he declared the boy dead. aning he knows. If Shennong is alive... then what was the reason for hiding him?"
Mandira frowned. "Exactly."
As they continued whispering, Shennong was busy drawing runes into the floor with precision, surrounded by glowing strands of mana. He wasn’t deaf, though. He gave a heavy sigh, his hands still working.
"Will you two stop whispering already?" Shennong said without looking back. "I’m not going to be a prince. I don’t care what blood is in my veins. I’m a crafter. I was, I am, and I’ll stay that way."
Mandira blinked and looked at Cassandra. Cassandra only smiled faintly.
"It’s your choice," she said gently. "And frankly, if the Empire wants to pretend you’re dead, that’s their loss. They threw away a jewel and called it dust."
"Poetic," Shennong muttered.
Compared to the humans, the succubi—Rilith and Velara—were completely uninterested in the royal discussion.
"I don’t care if he’s a prince or a pauper," Velara said, kneeling beside the runes. "This circle’s off by a hair."
"Agreed," Rilith chid in, eyes glowing faintly pink as she adjusted the glyph placent. "Fix the angle. We’re summoning sothing from the Djinn’s domain—not calling it for tea."
Shennong moved over and made the adjustnts they pointed out. "Good catch."
The summoning circle was being created in a new chamber Shennong had carved himself—sealed, reinforced, and isolated from the rest of the dungeon. It had thick walls of enchanted stone and zero connection to the main core, just in case sothing went wrong.
Mandira paced around the outer edge, checking each sigil with her own magic. "Don’t worry. Unlike last ti, this summoning won’t affect the land. We’re only calling forth a projection—not the real entity. Unless soone deliberately lets it anchor to a vessel, it can’t cross over."
"Just like what Juno did," Shennong said, frowning.
"Exactly," Mandira replied. "But this ti, we’re in control. Every sigil here is designed for containnt."
"Then let’s get on with it," Shennong said. "Mandira, prep the tool."
Mandira crossed her arms. "We’ll need a lot of mana crystals. We’re calling a being from the outer boundary of our reality. This isn’t a backyard summoning—"
Before she could finish, Shennong stepped aside, opened his inventory, and with a faint shimr, dropped a mountain of glowing crystals on the ground beside her.
Clink! Crack! Tumble!
The crystals spilled like a treasure hoard—raw blue, violet, and pale white stones radiating pure mana.
Mandira’s jaw dropped slightly. "...Seriously?"
Shennong smirked. "Is this enough?"
Mandira broke into a laugh, shaking her head. "Of course you had them with you."
"I mined half of it myself," he said. "So ca from the deeper floors of the dungeon."
"Of course you did," Mandira muttered, already kneeling beside the pile to sort them by type and grade. "We’ll need the purer ones for the core channeling. Cassandra, can you charge the capacitor array?"
Cassandra stepped forward and placed both hands on a prepared conduit rod. "On it."
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