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27.36% Reborn As Papa Silva / Chapter 26: The Secret Order!

Capítulo 26: The Secret Order!

Under the full moon's glow, three figures huddled beneath a tree on a cliff, their eyes fixed on an enigmatic, gray-bricked structure below.

"Disguise?" Damnatio blinked, making sure he hadn't misheard. Alfred pulled out three plain, white masks from his satchel, each featureless—no eye or mouth holes—and handed one to Damnatio and the other to Sebastian.

Haze Mask, Damnatio narrowed his eyes, examining the object. [1]

Among nobles, there are countless times they must perform "dirty" deeds that can't be traced back to them. To manage this, they often pool resources to craft magic tools that help conceal their tracks. The Haze Mask was one such device.

When worn, it bonds with the user's body, molding to their face and adopting a unique pattern that reflects their mana. Beyond that, it transforms the wearer entirely, altering their body shape to something general and unremarkable, and clothing them in pure black like a shadowed silhouette.

These masks are prized tools of the aristocracy, never to be found in public markets. Any attempts by smugglers to replicate and circulate them on the dark market are swiftly... handled by the nobility. Only a select few lower-ranking nobles have access to them, and only if they pledge allegiance to higher houses.

The Haze Mask was the result of a rare partnership between House Silva and House Kira, shortly after Conrad took office as Wizard King. Despite their mutual disdain, Sebastian and Lux had put aside their differences, knowing that to continue their work undetected, they'd need a tool even Conrad's sharp gaze couldn't pierce.

Needless to say, the artisan who crafted this device—after many sleepless nights and promises of wealth—had also been "removed" from the world. He knew too much.

The Haze Masks in the possession of House Silva and House Kira, however, were even more refined. After all, royalty could never settle for mere nobility's tools. Theirs not only concealed their bodies but also disguised their grimoires. Their covers and spines turned featureless black, and their auras dulled to a muted gray.

Sebastian nodded, his voice calm and steady. "Who knows who might be watching? It's only natural to take precautions. After all, we're about to hunt a general—something as high-profile as this will definitely attract attention."

Damnatio returned the nod, understanding the logic. Precautions were sensible, given the circumstances. What threw him off was the faint smile threatening to form on Sebastian's face.

Why does Lord Silva seem so… excited? Damnatio wondered, trying to make sense of it. Could it be nerves about the upcoming battle?

But anxiety wasn't even close to what Sebastian felt. No, the battle itself was a mere formality—a minor engagement. Just an Eight Shining General, he thought dismissively. Though the generals were ranked among the Clover Kingdom's captains and the Heart Kingdom's Spirit Guardians, everyone knew they were far from the same caliber. And this general? Even among the "elite," he was hardly worth a second thought. Fodder among fodder. 

Sebastian Silva's excitement stemmed from something entirely different. What man doesn't secretly dream of becoming a shadowy figure, dressed in black, slipping through the night like some legendary shinobi? He could feel the thrill building as he imagined it: an unknown operative from a hidden organization, carrying out high-stakes missions while the world scrambled to uncover his identity, never suspecting House Silva's unassuming patriarch.

Holding the mask, Sebastian's fingers trembled with excitement. I can already see it—the world on edge, speculating, theorizing, never once suspecting me. A thrill of satisfaction washed over him. Is this what Cid Kagenou feels?

For a brief moment, he felt the addictive allure of becoming an "eminence in the shadows," of being the figure who moves unseen, taunting others with the barest hints, skirting the line of discovery yet always remaining hidden.

Does this make me a pervert? Sebastian chuckled to himself. But Damnatio's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Lord Silva… you're trembling…" Damnatio's voice held a note of hesitance. Sebastian felt a sheepish grin trying to surface, catching Damnatio's unsure, bewildered expression as he did.

Clearing his throat to regain his composure, Sebastian took a moment to look Damnatio over, a thought stirring that seemed to make the younger man visibly uncomfortable.

"Damnatio…" Sebastian began, his tone a little too casual, hoping to cut through the awkwardness.

"Yes, Lord Silva?" Damnatio straightened, trying to resume his indifferent, professional stance.

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. "You can call me uncle, if you like."

An awkward silence swallowed the group. House Silva's Head Butler, Alfred Pennyworth, lowered his head, pretending not to have heard a thing. Damnatio, however, immediately recoiled, taking a step back, his hair practically standing on end as he stared at Sebastian with undisguised horror.

Pinching his nose, he replied nasally, "Lord Silva, please conduct yourself with appropriate decorum. That's Lord Kira to you."

Whatever tenuous partnership they'd had, Damnatio had now drawn a clear line, and the gap between them widened into a chasm.

Sebastian struggled to brush it off, forcing a casual shrug. Forget it, he thought wryly. If there were an FBI in this world, I wouldn't have a defense. I even gave myself the creeps saying that.

Without another word, Sebastian lifted the mask and placed it over his face. Instantly, the mask shifted, molding itself to fit him like a second skin. The featureless surface transformed: sharp, eagle-like eye slits opened, outlined in blue, revealing Sebastian's striking blue eyes beneath. A mouth hole shaped like an eagle's beak formed, and sleek silver feather patterns adorned the rest, giving it a fierce, dignified elegance.

His entire outfit morphed, flowing into a seamless black stealth suit from top to toe. His grimoire satchel melded into a belt pouch, and his grimoire itself lost all its markings, becoming a shadowed, featureless black.

When he spoke, his voice emerged altered—devoid of emotion, flat and mechanical, erasing any trace of his usual tone. "Gentlemen, it's your turn."

Alfred nodded and donned his own mask. It reshaped itself into a silver-gray wolf, with subtle fur-like patterns along its edges. Instantly, his clothing turned to match Sebastian's, a sleek black suit cloaking his now noticeably more athletic frame, adding a layer of muscle until he matched Sebastian's build.

Damnatio sighed, reluctantly following suit. His mask settled into the shape of a green owl, accented with brown feathers. His transformation was the most dramatic: his height increased, and his entire silhouette altered, making him nearly indistinguishable from the other two. [2]

Sebastian surveyed them with satisfaction. He pointed to himself. "I'm Blue Eagle," he said, then gestured to Alfred, "you're Gray Wolf," and finally to Damnatio, "and you're Green Owl."

Alfred and Damnatio nodded, both keeping their expressions neutral. Damnatio spoke, his voice equally robotic. "So, are we ambushing them here, over the dungeon?" He gestured to the arcane gray structure below.

Sebastian gave him a flat look, showing no inclination to answer.

Damnatio bit back an impending headache and sighed, though the Haze Mask rendered the sound completely devoid of feeling. "Are we ambushing them here, Blue Eagle?" he emphasized the name, earning a nod of approval from Sebastian.

"Negative, Green Owl," Sebastian replied, shaking his head. "The White Serpent will be here soon, and even if they're inside the dungeon, they might have ways to monitor what happens outside. Initiating a conflict here could alert them—and expose us."

He then looked over at Alfred, who nodded and pointed toward a distant mountain range beyond the dungeon. "As Blue Eagle previously instructed, I mapped out the direction from which the Diamond forces are likely to approach. The quickest and most discreet route for crossing our borders is through that mountain pass—the Galen Heights. That's where we'll set our ambush." [3]

Damnatio nodded in agreement, as Sebastian addressed them one final time. "Alright, gentlemen, it's time for the Secret Organization to make its mark on the world. We can't let Master L down!" Sebastian declared passionately, clenching his fist.

Damnatio blinked. Who's Master L?

Alfred made no comment, simply nodding in silent agreement. As long as my lord is having fun, that's all that matters.

Four Hours Later:

The horizon began to brighten as the first hints of sunlight crept up, casting an orange-red glow over the Galen Heights. The mountain range, usually untouched and empty of human presence, was soon disturbed by the arrival of a single cart—a cart made entirely of smoke, barreling forward across the rugged terrain.

Yes, a smoke cart, carrying around ten people.

Among them were seven indistinct figures—extras who needed no description.

At the front of the cart stood a young, striking man with a grimoire floating before him. His medium-length black hair framed a subtle mustache and a goatee, which gave him a mature, if slightly rakish, look. A triple-diamond headpiece adorned the right side of his forehead, marking him as someone of notable rank. He was Lotus Whomalt, a 22-year-old Adjutant General of the Diamond Kingdom—one of the youngest to ever hold such a title, and the mage responsible for the smoke construct propelling them forward.

To his left sat a young man of average height with messy red hair, blue eyes, and a frown that seemed too heavy for his sixteen-year-old face. He was Fanzell Kruger, one of the Diamond Kingdom's most promising talents in recent years, praised and groomed for greatness by his superiors—and even the king.

In the back seat of the cart, perched alone on a bench, sat one man in solitary dignity, his rank and presence setting him apart from the others. He was a short, elderly man with a hunched back and hair so gray it nearly obscured his eyes. His expression was unreadable save for the smug grin that crept from his nose down. Clad in a Diamond Kingdom uniform, he was none other than Yagos—one of the Eight Shining Generals, senior to most in the Diamond military, respected not only for his rank but also for his age and experience.

As they approached the Galen Heights, Yagos cast a sidelong glance at Fanzell, his voice rasping with a hollow, eerie cheerfulness. "Don't tell me, you're still on the fence about this mission, Fanzell?"

Fanzell stiffened, then quickly stood and saluted. "Sir, no, Sir!" His face turned impassive as he locked eyes with where he imagined Yagos' eyes to be, his tone resolute.

Yagos' grin didn't falter—in fact, it seemed to deepen as he let out a chilling chuckle. "Good, good. It would dishearten me to have to snuff out such a promising talent... for insubordination."

"I wouldn't dare, Sir!" Fanzell replied sharply, ignoring the burning glares from his so-called comrades.

Neither Fanzell nor Yagos caught the brief narrowing of Lotus' eyes or the fleeting frown that crossed his face as he listened from the front of the cart, controlling the smoke spell with his back turned to them.

Yagos paused, nodding slowly. "Everything we do is for the sake of the Diamond Kingdom. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir!" Fanzell answered firmly.

Yagos' twisted grin stretched wider, almost grotesque, as he finished his probing. "At ease, soldier."

Fanzell dropped his salute and returned to his seat, his expression unchanging. On the surface, he looked calm, composed. But inwardly, he sneered.

Sake of the Diamond Kingdom—don't give me that! Fanzell seethed inwardly, clenching his fist to release even a fraction of his disgust.

He wasn't some naive idealist; he had no illusions about his role as a soldier. Killing was part of his duty—especially eliminating enemy troops who threatened Diamond. He would strike down the White Serpent's soldiers without hesitation. But not like this, he thought bitterly. Taking lives in an honest fight on the battlefield, where everyone accepted the risk of dying—that he could stomach. But a sneak attack? That was just a massacre waiting to happen. This isn't a battle; it's a slaughter.

Yet, even a slaughter was something he might swallow in the name of duty. Not every fight happens on even ground, and Diamond's best chance lay in being the predator, not the prey. But what made Fanzell truly sick, what tore at his conscience, was the twisted deals with Clover Kingdom's nobility, the trafficking of lives, and his complicity in the horrific experiments that awaited those captives.

And not just them, he thought, horrified. Even our own—the children of Diamond—will be fed to that bastard's ambitions.

A face flashed in his mind: short, blond hair, tinted glasses. Morris Libardirt—the so-called Magic Scholar, the other prized prodigy of his generation.

Fanzell had once tried to understand where it had all gone wrong. Diamond had always struggled, forced to work its mines to survive. Their incursions into Clover weren't mindless aggression but desperate attempts to seize fertile land and resources to pull themselves out of poverty. Yet, even in their hardships, they had once been a people of honor, tempered by struggle, united in resilience.

It was that fierce spirit that had driven Fanzell to grow stronger, to join the military and fight for his kingdom—to find a way out for his people.

But everything changed once that bastard got his grimoire.

Fanzell and Morris had known each other since childhood. Growing up in the same area, attending the same magic school, visiting the same shops and training facilities—they'd crossed paths countless times. But they weren't friends, not even close. They'd simply... known of each other.

Fanzell and Morris couldn't have been more different. The only real bond they shared was the label of "orphan." Fanzell was strong, healthy, driven, outgoing, with a natural talent for magic. Morris, by contrast, was a withdrawn bookworm, a blind, crippled child in a kingdom that valued strength and capability above all else.

In Diamond, where power was everything, a boy like Morris had no choice but to endure relentless scorn. He was bullied, spat on, treated as little more than a burden. Unable even to work the mines like most of the impoverished, he was an outcast in every sense.

Fanzell had pitied Morris, but he'd had no time to protect him or play caretaker. They weren't close, and Fanzell had his own dream: to grow strong, rise in the ranks, and one day change the kingdom so it wouldn't oppress people like Morris.

So he'd thrown Morris a few hollow words of encouragement and returned to his training, determined to carve out his path.

And I used to feel guilty about that, Fanzell thought darkly, but if I'd known then what he was really like... I might have joined his bullies.

A year ago, everything changed when they received their grimoires. Morris, who had once been meek and submissive, flipped completely. The boy who'd endured years of abuse turned into a vicious, unrecognizable creature, lashing out at anyone who'd ever wronged him.

Over the next few months, one by one, all of his tormentors disappeared. When Fanzell and his superiors finally investigated, they found a scene so grotesque it still haunted Fanzell, a sickening memory he couldn't erase. Beneath Morris' hovel was a hidden cellar—a lab. And in that lab, Fanzell saw something that would scar him forever.

Morris was cackling, a maniacal, perverse grin twisting his face as he stood amidst the dismembered bodies of those who had tormented him. But they weren't just dead—they were mutilated, their remains pieced together in grotesque, unnatural forms. Animals, magical beasts, and even plant life had been sewn into the bodies in twisted mockery of life itself.

Morris shouted at them with such fervor that it still sent chills down Fanzell's spine. "I've done it! I've done it, you ingrates! I discovered the truth of this world!"

It didn't take long for Morris to be captured, dragged before the king. Fanzell, like the rest of them, expected to hear him beg for mercy, confess his sins, and then face the executioner's axe. But that wasn't what happened.

Instead, the kingdom was thrown into chaos when word spread that not only had Morris not been punished, but he was actually praised by His Majesty. In a matter of days, Morris was elevated to the position of chief of magical development—one of the most powerful figures in the kingdom.

He got everything he wanted—money, resources, lab equipment, and materials. Most of those materials were human lives. Our lives. His experiments, twisted and cruel as they were, bore results. Morris had found ways to create powerful magical devices, even biologically enhancing the magic of living creatures. And the more successful he became, the more freedom he gained to continue his work unchecked.

And that, Fanzell thought bitterly, was when everything truly went downhill.

I regret hesitating and not striking him down when I first had the chance, Fanzell thought bitterly, the weight of his regret pressing heavily on him. Now Morris is too highly valued, too protected by the kingdom. Even if I wanted to take him down, I couldn't. And even if I succeeded, the consequences... the fate awaiting me— and them—would be far worse!

He thought of several faces, faces he could never forget. The beautiful witch with orange hair, who followed him out of the Witch Forest, becoming a craftsman for the kingdom. The children he had been ordered to train, innocent, unaware of the dark future that awaited them under Morris' cruel plans. Among them, two in particular weighed on his heart: Dominante, Mars, Fana... He felt helpless, like the walls were closing in on him.

It was as if Morris had the king, the whole kingdom, under his spell. No matter how morally corrupt or depraved his actions were, he received only praise, support, and power. The day Morris had received his grimoire was the day Diamond Kingdom's darkest secrets were set loose. I feel like a stranger in my own kingdom, Fanzell thought, his heart heavy. The streets, the faces—everything is the same, but everyone's different.

Fanzell wanted to confront Morris. He wanted to do something, anything to stop him. But there were others who tried before him. They all failed. And they were either executed for 'insubordination' or simply disappeared without a trace. One of them was even a member of the Eight Shining Generals—a person of great standing—yet they met the same brutal fate.

The generals, those who should have opposed Morris, who had worked hard and trained the right way, said nothing. They didn't even blink at the horrors unfolding. They refused to act, or maybe they didn't dare. If even the generals, the pillars of this kingdom, are silent, what can people like us do?

Fanzell had been ready to risk everything, to take down Morris and bring the kingdom back to its senses, even if it meant mutual destruction. But then, someone stopped him.

He glanced to his side, studying the back of the man who had stopped him: Lotus Whomalt. The one person who seemed to agree with Fanzell that Morris had to be stopped.

At first, Fanzell didn't understand why Lotus had intervened. If they were of the same mind, why not work together to end this nightmare? But Lotus had stopped him and made him see a different path.

"You can't do it, Fanzell," Lotus had said, his voice serious. "If you go down that road, the people you care about, and many others, will face a terrible fate." Lotus paused, his eyes clouding with concern. "I've just gotten married. I can't risk losing everything."

Fanzell's frustration boiled over. What should I do, then? he demanded.

And that was when Lotus gave him his answer.

"Climb."

"Climb?" Fanzell had echoed, confused.

"Climb the ladder. Rise through the ranks of the military, reach the top, and become someone they cannot ignore. Become someone whose opinions matter more than Morris." Lotus had said it with such conviction. "Reach a level higher than the Eight Shining Generals, and prove that your value to this kingdom is greater than his. Fix this."

"Like the Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom?"

"Exactly," Lotus had nodded. But then his gaze turned solemn. "But it's an unrealistic goal, Fanzell. You don't have the kind of talent that would allow you to reach such a height."

Fanzell had thought about it. He knew Lotus was right. Reaching the level of an Eight Shining General was already an immense challenge, and going beyond that was a feat he could only dream of. But even if I did manage to do it, he wondered, would it even be worth it?

The time it would take—how many lives would be lost to Morris' twisted experiments in that span? How many people, possibly even those he cared for, would suffer before he could stop it?

Fanzell felt hopeless. The fire that once burned inside of me, to serve the kingdom, to rise up and become stronger, it's almost gone. I can barely recognize the man I once was. His neatly combed hair was now messy. His once-groomed facial hair was unkempt. He had been a soldier—someone who stood with honor and determination. But now, everything seems meaningless.

If it weren't for the few people still shining light into his life, Fanzell wondered if he would have already given up.

At the very least, I have to find a way to save those children! Fanzell clenched his fists in frustration, only to jerk forward when the cart stopped abruptly.

"Ack!" One of his comrades grunted in annoyance at the sudden halt.

Fanzel shared the sentiment, glancing up at Lotus to voice his confusion—only to fall silent as he took in Lotus's uncharacteristically grim expression and furrowed brows.

"G-General Lotus—" another comrade began.

"Silence!" Yagos cut him off sharply, making everyone stiffen as they turned toward him. Like Lotus, his usual grin was absent, replaced by a deadly seriousness. Beneath his wild hair, his right eye glinted as he spoke clearly.

"We have company. Everyone, be on guard—"

Yagos trailed off, his eyes widening as he noticed several tiny drops of water hovering in the air around them—ten in total.

Lotus broke into a sweat, barely managing to choke out three words. "Enemy attack, dodge—"

The droplets instantly transformed into beams of high-pressure water, firing at everyone.

Lotus lunged sideways, tackling Fanzel out of the way just as a beam zipped past, narrowly missing them both.

As for Yagos, he reacted in a flash, trying to contain the beam targeting him within a yellow, mucus-like membrane. But his eyes widened in shock as the beam tore through it, only slightly slowed. He jerked his head to the side just in time.

The beam grazed his cheek before punching a hole through the smoke cart, finally dissipating after traveling a few more meters. Yagos stared at the damage in horror.

But the other seven weren't as lucky. Each beam struck dead center, piercing their chests where their hearts were. Those fast enough to try raising a magical defense didn't stand a chance—the beams sliced through their spells like a knife through butter.

As the smoke cart dissolved around them, Yagos landed lightly on the ground with a grace unexpected for someone his age.

"General Lotus, are you alright?!" Fanzell asked, looking up at Lotus, who was still lying on top of him.

Lotus paused, frowning slightly before nodding. He got to his feet and offered Fanzell a hand. "I should be asking you that, Fanzell," he said, trying to muster a smile.

Fanzell nodded, his face damp with sweat as he accepted the hand. "Yes, sir… And thank you for saving my life!"

If they weren't on a battlefield, he'd have bowed and saluted, but right now, staying alert was the priority.

Lotus nodded, waving off the thanks. "It was nothing." It really was nothing. He narrowed his eyes. When he'd tackled Fanzell, ready to sacrifice himself to save the kid with such a promising future, he'd noticed something strange—the beams heading toward them had suddenly shifted, skimming just past his leg instead.

What is this about? Lotus's gaze shifted to his seven fallen comrades, their grimoires flickering out, confirming the worst—they were dead. He glanced over at Yagos, the only other and true survivor, his powers barely enough to save him.

Noticing Yagos scanning the area, too preoccupied to focus on them, Lotus felt a mix of emotions. I don't know if I should be thankful, happy, or scared. Thankful that Yagos hadn't noticed the odd shift in the attack—didn't see it and wonder if they were somehow connected to the ambusher; happy that their superior was alive, keeping some hope alive; or scared that the attacker seemed to have… other plans for them.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Yagos yelled, fury radiating from him as his mana flared, searching for their assailant. His usual smug pride was gone, replaced by a desperate edge.

Was this a Clover Kingdom trap?! Yagos's mind raced, immediately suspecting Lux had betrayed them, or maybe had been playing them all along.

Unaware that Lux was dead, Yagos hadn't received the news yet. Word spread slowly, even with spies, and the Diamond Kingdom had only recently been informed. They hadn't had the chance to pass it along to him, and even if they had, Yagos likely wouldn't retreat. Losing their promised payment mattered, but wiping out a squad of magic knights and striking at the Clover Kingdom's power was too tempting.

While Yagos continued cursing the dead Lux, inching closer to Lotus and Fanzell with the plan to use them as shields in case of another attack, he stopped, startled, as the unexpected happened.

Lotus and Fanzell froze too, watching as a puddle of water spread across the path in front of them. Suddenly, three figures leaped out of it.

They were of the same height and build, each clad in identical black, featureless stealth suits. Their only distinguishing features were the masks covering their faces.

The figure in the middle, arms folded behind his back, wore a blue eagle-like mask. To his right, standing slightly behind him with hands clasped in front, was another figure in a wolf-like mask, and on his left, arms at his sides, stood the last one with a green owl-like mask.

"Who are you?! What force do you belong to? State your affiliation immediately!" Yagos demanded, his grimoire floating before him as he edged closer to Lotus and Fanzell.

Lotus and Fanzell mirrored his actions, their grimoires hovering in front of them as they studied the mysterious trio.

The middle figure spoke, his voice altered and emotionless. "Our organization is not something sinners like you deserve to know. For now, you may call us the Secret Order."

Secret Order? Lotus, Fanzell, and Yagos exchanged subtle glances, none of them showing any hint of recognition.

"What is that?! Explain yourself!" Yagos snapped, his usual arrogance in full display. Used to commanding respect, he ordered them as if they were his subordinates, failing to grasp that these people owed him no answers.

The man in the blue mask ignored him and turned his back to face the other two masked figures.

That infuriated the trio—being shown someone's back in battle meant one of two things: either the person was inexperienced or didn't see them as a threat.

Lotus, Fanzell, and Yagos weren't geniuses, but they were seasoned enough to understand it was definitely the latter.

A vein popped in Yagos's forehead as his mana flared again. He pointed angrily at the man in the blue mask. "Don't you dare ignore me, boy!"

"Mucus Magic: Mucus Wave!" he bellowed, sending a huge wave of yellow mucus hurtling toward the trio, ready to engulf and suffocate them.

But the scene he'd envisioned—of them writhing and burning under his attack—never happened. Instead, Yagos and his comrades watched in shock as the mucus wave froze just before it reached the masked figures. Then, before their stunned eyes, the yellow slime shifted to a pure ocean blue and reversed direction, surging back toward them.

Shit! Lotus cursed inwardly, reacting quickly. He conjured smoke platforms beneath all three of them, and with a swift gesture, Fanzell summoned a gust of wind that lifted them just in time to dodge the massive wave, that flooded the area below.

Hovering in the air, Yagos trembled as he pointed at the man in the blue mask, still turned away. "H-How did you do that?!"

Yagos was rattled. In all his years, he'd never experienced someone not only wrest control of his magic but also turn it against him. Yet the man in the blue mask ignored him, speaking in that same emotionless tone to his companions.

"Gray Wolf, Green Owl," he said, turning to face the three Diamond soldiers at last. Pointing to Lotus and Fanzel, he commanded, "Capture them. Master L wants them alive." Then, gesturing dismissively at Yagos, he continued, "As for this trash, I'll eliminate him."

Gray Wolf nodded, his body cloaked in a silver-gray aura that extended to Green Owl, lifting them both into the air to face Lotus and Fanzell.

Green Owl blinked under his mask. Who's Master L?

Meanwhile, the man in the blue mask stepped forward, summoning steps of solidified water beneath him. The pressurized water formed stable platforms, though it wasn't ice, and he ascended without so much as a splash.

As he climbed the steps with calm, measured strides, hands clasped behind his back, he finally addressed Yagos.

"Remember the man who killed you," he said coolly. "Blue Eagle."

Omake:

As the trio of masked figures observed the smoke cart near Galen Heights from a cliff, Blue Eagle turned to the others.

"Green Owl, Gray Wolf, I need your input on something."

Green Owl ignored him, giving the silent treatment, so Gray Wolf cleared his throat. "Yes, what is it, mast— Blue Eagle?" he stammered, quickly correcting himself under Blue Eagle's intense gaze. Blue Eagle gave an approving nod before moving closer to the cliff's edge.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he peered down at the distant scene. "How should we approach this group?"

Green Owl's focus snapped back. Finally, he's being serious, he thought, seeing a chance to contribute something useful. "If either of you can get me near the cart without being seen, I can restrain their magic—"

"Stop." Blue Eagle cut him off with a dismissive wave.

Was the plan really that bad? Green Owl wondered, frowning, until Blue Eagle spoke again.

"These are just fodder. We don't need anything fancy to handle them. No, I'm talking about something far more important!"

Green Owl blinked, confused. "And what… would that be?"

"Our entrance, of course!"

Huh? Green Owl blinked again, while Gray Wolf quickly looked down, pretending not to hear.

"Every team needs to make a memorable debut!" Blue Eagle declared, raising a finger to the sky as he continued with conviction. "This is more crucial than life itself. Our aura and reputation are on the line! If we don't make an impact when we appear, no one will ever take us seriously!"

Silence settled over the group as Green Owl blinked yet again. Then, abruptly turning on his heel, he began walking away. I'm done here.

"Come back, Green Owl!" Blue Eagle called, but he was met with nothing but silence. "This is insubordination! If you return now, I'll personally vouch for you to Master L—"

Green Owl stopped and spun around, his voice dripping with exasperation. "Who the hell is Master L?!"

Meanwhile, far away in the Clover Kingdom, in the base of the Grey Deer, Julius slumped over a mountain of paperwork, signing off the tasks he'd let pile up. I need an assistant, he sighed inwardly, rubbing his left eye in frustration.

"Weird, why does my eye suddenly feel so itchy?" he murmured.

If Julius had a mirror, he would have noticed a swirl of darkness in his eye—something was unsettled.

Author's Notes:

[1] It is not a canon device, made by me

[2] Owls are seen as wise, and in many literature depictions as forces of justice and judgment. I would think if Damnatio had a spirit animal, it would be an owl

[3] Galen is Greek for calm and peaceful, a name inspired by Golan Heights

[4] Join the Discord Server at: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar


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Updates are going to be slow till December 9th.

Capítulo 27: You All Think Too Much

Fanzell and Lotus began to circulate their mana as the two figures—Gray Wolf and Green Owl, as they'd come to know—floated upwards to meet them.

Both pairs landed on a nearby cliff, facing each other on level ground. Blue Eagle had already briefed Gray Wolf and Green Owl on Fanzell and Lotus' magical attributes, with Fanzell being a wind mage. And Fanzell and Lotus had watched Gray Wolf and Green Owl take to the skies with such ease that neither side was confident they'd have any advantage in aerial combat. Better to stick to the comfort zone, Fanzell thought. Solid ground.

As the two groups stared each other down, each waiting for the other to make a move, Lotus decided to break the silence. Scratching his chin, he studied the masked duo and, with narrowed eyes, asked, "Mind telling us what this 'Master L' of yours wants with little old me and the kid here?"

Lotus was baffled. Sure, he was talented enough to reach Adjutant General at his age, but he doubted he'd get much farther up the military ladder. And as for Fanzell, though Lotus recognized his genius, he knew that potential meant little without time to grow. A genius only becomes a real threat when they're allowed to develop.

If Master L wanted to capture someone, Lotus reasoned, surely it should be General Yagos. Yagos was the oldest and most knowledgeable of the 8 Shining Generals; he held secrets of the Diamond Kingdom far above anything Lotus or Fanzell could know. So why us? Lotus narrowed his eyes. Maybe he doesn't think he could make someone like the General talk. Or worse... maybe there's something specific about us that he's after. If he's even a 'he,' to begin with.

Lotus watched the two, waiting for an answer, but they remained silent.

Even if Green Owl wanted to answer, he was lost in his own thoughts. Does he mean Lord Leto? he wondered. But that doesn't make sense. We're supposed to avoid Lord Leto's attention, not attract it. Green Owl resisted the urge to rub his temples in frustration. He couldn't understand Blue Eagle's thinking at all.

Green Owl was used to being above everyone else, trusted with every detail of any mission he joined, even when he wasn't in charge. His superiors treated him with respect—some even tried to curry his favor. That was his right as the young master of House Kira. He was used to being told what he wanted to know. But now? He was being kept on a need-to-know basis, as if he were any other subordinate. Who does Blue Eagle think he is? he thought bitterly. We're supposed to be partners. So where do you get off treating me like another one of your servants?

He glanced sideways at Blue Eagle who was locked in combat, squinting slightly at what he saw, before turning away, deciding it wasn't worth pursuing further. I thought you were just a support mage, he thought to himself.

Gray Wolf noticed that Green Owl wasn't planning to speak up anytime soon, so he set aside his own reserved nature, coughed, and cleared his throat to deliver the lines Blue Eagle had drilled into them. His voice, muffled and flattened by the Haze Mask's filter, came out stripped of any nuance or feeling. Trying to appear as unthreatening as possible, he spoke in an eerie monotone.

"Master L is the selfless savior of this world. Our messiah! Our god! Sinner Yagos is too far gone, his only pardon is through death. But you two are still young and can be saved. As long as you lay down your arms, don't resist, and come before Master L, you can seek forgiveness."

An awkward silence settled over the group, Gray Wolf's overly fervent speech landing with all the intensity of a wet sponge thanks to his emotionless tone. Green Owl, snapping out of his daze, looked away in embarrassment, wishing he could melt into the ground.

Fanzell and Lotus exchanged a look, each thinking the same thing: Damn cultists. Despite Gray Wolf's flat delivery, his words had the same fanatical vibe that brought back memories of the worst zealots they'd dealt with. A certain blind bespectacled one, among them, came to mind. Done with trying to get more information, Lotus wasted no time.

Extending his hand toward the masked pair, he unleashed the spell he'd been preparing. "Smoke Weakening Magic: Smoke Garden of Usurpation!"

A subtle, translucent haze began to drift around Gray Wolf and Green Owl, seeping into the air without a sound. Both of them blinked, their vision starting to blur as they felt an odd, creeping weakness in their limbs. They looked at each other in confusion, wobbling as they sank to their knees.

As seasoned players in the cutthroat aristocratic world, they knew the signs immediately. We've been poisoned!

Watching the two struggle, Lotus scratched his cheek, letting out an internal sigh of relief. Smoke Garden Usurpation, he thought. Invisible to the naked eye, this smoke seeps poison into the air, dulling awareness even for those with a sharp mana sense. And lucky me, I'm immune to my own spell. And my allies as well.

The poison would take a little more time to fully incapacitate them, but Lotus wasn't one to leave things to chance. Snapping his fingers, he signaled to his partner.

"Wind Creation Magic: Slicing Wind Emperor!" Fanzell stepped forward as a broad sword of swirling wind formed in his right hand. He moved swiftly toward the masked duo, aiming to finish them before they had any chance to react.

It was a good plan, but Green Owl was anything but incompetent—or hesitant. The instant he sensed his body weakening, his grimoire had already floated up before him. A balance scale appeared in his left hand, held firmly by the top ring. Just as Fanzell lunged at them, Green Owl activated his spell from his knees.

"Scale Regulate!" With that, the scales tipped drastically in favor of Green Owl and Gray Wolf, and both Lotus' and Fanzell's spells were suppressed.

But this was no mere suppression—if the difference in mana between two parties was significant enough, Green Owl could outright erase their spells. As a member of the Clover Kingdom's main royal line, Green Owl possessed more mana than Lotus and Fanzell combined. In the future, he would even be capable of suppressing the entire Black Bull squad at once; though he wasn't yet in his prime, neither were Lotus and Fanzell.

As the scales tipped, Lotus and Fanzell felt their control over their spells slip entirely. Straining even to summon their mana, they were left exposed. Fanzell reacted quickly, throwing a right hook, hoping to end things physically. But now it was Gray Wolf's turn.

Gray Wolf extended his hands, which began to glow in a silver-gray hue, and with a sudden burst, an invisible force launched Fanzell backward, sending him crashing straight into Lotus.

Before the two could even grunt in pain or try to recover, they felt themselves being lifted off the ground by the same invisible force, an intense pressure pinning their ribs and hoisting them into the air.

"Acck!"

"Gahh!"

Lotus and Fanzell gasped and struggled against whatever was holding them. They squirmed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to break free, but they couldn't. Physical strength wasn't enough, and with Green Owl's spell blocking their mana, they were utterly helpless.

If anyone with heightened mana perception or eye magic were watching, they'd see the invisible, silver-gray hands clutching Lotus and Fanzell, squeezing the air from their lungs.

The two struggled, trying to muster some form of resistance, but the nightmare wasn't over yet. From their satchels, their grimoires began to glow with the same silver-gray aura, drawn out of their possession and floating uncontrollably toward Gray Wolf. The grimoires hovered briefly before being encased in silver-gray cubes, then fell heavily to the ground, their connection to their wielders severed.

Lotus, wincing, forced one eye open and glanced down at Gray Wolf and Green Owl, who stood silently below with their expressions unreadable behind their masks. With a resigned sigh, he pushed through the pain. "A-alright, w-we s-surrender… you… h-have us beat."

Fanzell groaned. "G-General Lotus, what are you doing?" He couldn't believe it—soldiers were supposed to fight to the death for their kingdom, not surrender.

Lotus gave a pained chuckle. "J-just trust me, k-kid." He wheezed, a figure flashing through his mind. Sorry, kid, I've got someone waiting for me back home. Can't afford to die here.

His eyes narrowed as they fell on Green Owl's scale. According to intel, there's only one person across the four kingdoms with this kind of magic. If House Kira's heir himself was here to capture them, things were more serious than he'd initially thought. They probably have ways to force our cooperation, he thought. They're just giving us one last courtesy.

All Fanzell could do was nod weakly. Yeah, we're completely outmatched. If this had been a fair fight, neither side aware of the other's powers, things might've gone differently. Lotus and Fanzell were seasoned warriors, veterans of countless battles, whereas Gray Wolf and Green Owl, though powerful, were products of privilege, untested by the same hardships. But Gray Wolf and Green Owl's magic attributes complemented each other far too well, leaving little room for resistance.

Gray Wolf gave a nod, loosening the grip on their bodies just enough to let them breathe while Green Owl continued to suppress their mana. Two clip-point knives with semicircular notches near the handles floated from Gray Wolf's utility belt. Paralyze knives, Green Owl observed, narrowing his eyes. [1]

Gray Wolf watched without expression as he maneuvered the knives to hover near Lotus and Fanzell's necks, pressing them lightly against their skin. As the blades touched, a purple hexagram magic circle flared to life, and the two men stiffened instantly, their eyes fluttering shut as they slipped into unconsciousness.

Gray Wolf set Lotus and Fanzell down by a nearby tree before a rope laced with esoteric runes slipped from his belt and hovered in mid-air. Moving methodically, he began tying them to the tree with practiced precision.

Mana Binding Cable… Green Owl's brow twitched as he observed Gray Wolf's efficiency. He spoke softly, his tone flat. "You came quite prepared." And seem right at home with this sort of thing. [2]

Gray Wolf responded with a silent nod, leaving Green Owl with unsettling thoughts. What else does Blue Eagle have him do?

If Green Owl had realized he was even using code names in his own thoughts, he might've wanted to scream. Instead, his head jerked backward as he heard a hoarse, desperate voice begging from nearby, "S-spare me, please!"

Five Minutes Earlier:

As Blue Eagle ascended the watery staircase toward Yagos, his opponent wasn't about to wait for him to reach the top. Gritting his teeth, Yagos flipped through his grimoire, landing on his ace spell. "Mucus Creation Magic: Mucus Nail!"

With a sickly yellow glow, a massive snail of mucus materialized around Yagos. Without a moment's hesitation, he directed the snail to charge down the staircase, barreling toward Blue Eagle, who watched impassively.

The snail engulfed Blue Eagle, rocketing down and slamming into the ground with enough force to leave a crater. Yagos threw back his head, cackling at the sky. "Now that you're trapped, boy, my mucus will weaken and burn you until you die—"

He stopped, his laughter dying in his throat as his gaze fell on Blue Eagle. The sight he'd anticipated—Blue Eagle struggling helplessly—never came. Instead, Yagos stared, wide-eyed, as the mucus within the snail seemed to part on its own, leaving Blue Eagle untouched in a strange air pocket.

"H-how?" Yagos's pride and arrogance were gone; he just wanted an answer. How is he controlling my spell?

Blue Eagle sighed in his robotic monotone. "Mucus is water, you fool. Trying to use it against me is just asking for a beating."

With a casual swipe of his hand, Blue Eagle's grimoire floated open, and he spoke emotionlessly. "Water Magic: Water Control."

Once more, Yagos watched helplessly as his magic transformed, the sickly yellow sludge becoming clear, blue water before it cascaded around them. The water parted easily around Blue Eagle, leaving him completely unaffected. Yagos, however, wasn't so lucky, sputtering and drenched as he staggered up from the flood, coughing up water and staring at Blue Eagle with undisguised horror.

Yagos trembled as his fear shifted to fury. He summoned countless bubbles of viscous mucus around him and flung them toward Blue Eagle. Let's see you manage this, controlling attacks from every direction! He cackled inwardly, convinced he'd finally have the upper hand.

Blue Eagle simply shook his head, sighing in his robotic tone. "Too slow."

Before Yagos's bubbles could close in, a massive, spiraling orb of water formed above Blue Eagle, its whirlpool-like pull creating an unseen force. Yagos watched in disbelief as his bubbles veered off course, drawn helplessly into the vortex. The orb momentarily turned sickly yellow, then shifted back to blue, shrinking as it absorbed Yagos's magic until it finally disintegrated from existence.

"My turn." Blue Eagle spoke calmly, lifting his right index finger. A single drop of water formed at its tip before shooting out in a high-pressure jet. Water Jet.

This again? How much do you look down on me?! Yagos sneered, conjuring a thick mucus membrane, confident it would capture the attack. But just like before, the jet of water cut through effortlessly, grazing Yagos's cheek and leaving a bloody trail as it tore through a boulder behind him.

"Agh!" Yagos clutched his cheek in pain, his hand glowing yellow as mucus seeped out to heal the wound, slowly mending his face.

"Sinner Yagos." Blue Eagle's voice remained eerily calm, drawing Yagos's attention despite his pain, his face damp with blood-sweat. "If you don't resist, I can defy Master L's orders and grant you a painless death. Choose wisely." Blue Eagle clasped his hands behind his back, waiting, his expression unreadable behind his mask.

"M-mercy?" Yagos stammered in shock. You're offering me mercy? Taking pity on me? He was beyond stunned; never in his life had he felt so utterly disregarded.

He gritted his teeth, defiance flaring up. "I'm one of the Eight Shining Generals, boy! It's not your place to look down on me!"

If speed's the problem, let's see you dodge this! Yagos's eyes gleamed with ferocity as he chanted, "Mucus Creation Magic: Rain of Blades!" Hundreds of tiny, needle-like knives materialized around him, then shot at Blue Eagle at blistering speed.

Rather than defend, Blue Eagle charged straight at the blades. Yagos cackled, smugly confident. Stupid boy! My mucus can burn through diamond; one touch and you're done for!

But touch was the critical word here—one that would remain meaningless in the face of Blue Eagle's next move. Yagos's eyes went wide as Blue Eagle's form began to twist and turn, his body melting into water. Whenever a blade was about to pierce him, his body shifted, reshaping to avoid contact. One blade aiming right for his chest passed harmlessly through a gap as Blue Eagle split his form around it, his body rejoining seamlessly after each evasion.

Like a liquid serpent, Blue Eagle dodged with unnatural fluidity, contorting his form to avoid each knife with inhuman agility as he inched closer to Yagos.

Fine, Yagos thought, gritting his teeth as he poured more mana into his spell, bloodshot eyes blazing with fury. I'll increase the number—you can't dodge them all! Thousands of mucus blades poured from Yagos's grimoire, raining down in an all-out assault.

Blue Eagle was caught in a storm of knives. Yagos's mouth stretched into a triumphant grin as he watched a plume of debris and burnt mucus explode from the impact.

As the dust settled, Yagos looked down into the crater, expecting to see some pitiful remnants. But his eyes widened when he saw nothing, not even a scrap of clothing.

His earlier arrogance faded entirely as he scanned the battlefield, desperately trying to sense Blue Eagle's mana. His gaze snapped to movement—a thousand droplets of water coalescing from the air, merging into a swirling orb before him. The orb formed a silhouette, which solidified into the familiar figure that had haunted Yagos's every desperate thought during their battle.

Blue Eagle stood before him, unscathed, his clothes pristine, his skin untouched by sweat or dust. Hands clasped behind his back, Blue Eagle regarded Yagos with that same impassive gaze, unbothered and entirely in control.

For Yagos, it was the sight that would haunt his final moments—if he'd ever live to dream again.

"How?!" Yagos screamed, reaching out desperately as he scraped the last remnants of his mana, struggling to resist. But before he could act, his body froze, then began to twist and contort as if seized by an invisible force, lifting him into the air, limbs pinned like a puppet on strings.

Blue Eagle looked up at him with a cold, indifferent expression. "The human body is made up of 60 percent water. Blood is water-based. Did you really think I couldn't control you?"

He released Yagos's throat just enough for him to speak, and Yagos's terrified eyes widened, his unkempt hair revealing the sheer panic in his gaze. "W-why?" he gasped. If Blue Eagle had such power, why didn't he use it from the start? Was it just to toy with him? To dangle hope only to snatch it away?

Blue Eagle's voice was as unfeeling as ever. "There are many reasons. First, I wanted to give you a chance to die painlessly. Consider it common courtesy," he said, as if explaining basic manners. "Although I detest you, your strength and experience aren't entirely dismissible. It's not every day I encounter an opponent of your caliber. Using this spell at the start would've been a waste."

Yagos seethed, every fiber in him wanting to spit at Blue Eagle, to curse him. He didn't care about his so-called "courtesy."

But Blue Eagle continued, undeterred. "If you're concerned about the consequences of my actions, don't be. Master L is all-forgiving. I'm sure he'll pardon a 'sinner' like me." Blue Eagle's gaze remained steady, his face an impenetrable mask.

I don't give a damn! Yagos raged inwardly.

Finally, Blue Eagle's expression shifted slightly as he considered his final reason. "And lastly, this spell only truly works on actual people when there's a significant gap in mana. I had to wait for you to exhaust your reserves."

"Anyway," Blue Eagle said, snapping back to focus before Yagos could utter another word, "any last words?"

"Last words?" Yagos echoed, confused. "What do you mean? You've captured me! Aren't you going to torture me for information? Extract every secret I hold?"

Blue Eagle suddenly paused and made the sign of the cross, touching his forehead, chest, then his left and right shoulders. In the same emotionless tone, he clasped his hands in prayer. "Oh Master L, please save this sinner. To think he would assume I'd commit such a heinous act. Guide this lost soul."

An awkward silence fell over them, and Yagos's face reddened with anger. "How much longer are you going to insult me, Blue Eagle?! Torture me all you want—I'll never betray my Kingdom!"

Blue Eagle relaxed his hands, as if the prayer had never happened, and replied indifferently. "I'm not lying. I have no intention of torturing you. I simply intend to release you from this world. So say your piece and be on with it."

"What are you talking about?!" Yagos spat, disbelief mingling with his fury. "Isn't that why you captured me and spared those other two? To extract our secrets?"

"Or do you think I'm not worth the effort?" Yagos sneered bitterly. "You believe it'll be easier to get those two brats to talk? I'll tell you now, those boys are as loyal as they come. Even if you manage to make them talk, anything they reveal is surface level. They don't know the truth of the Diamond King's greatness. You might as well kill all three of us and be done with it!"

I can't say much about loyalty; after all, both Fanzell and Lotus deserted Diamond in the original work. Blue Eagle blinked beneath his mask, and though the voice changer distorted his tone, Yagos could still pick up a certain emotion there, like he was speaking to an idiot.

"For the last time, when did I say anything about extracting secrets?" Blue Eagle's voice was exasperated, almost like he was explaining something obvious to a child. "Don't just jump to conclusions. Master L wants them for something else."

What is with this Xianxia-level IQ in everyone I meet? Blue Eagle thought, baffled. I don't remember the Black Clover universe being full of people this daft.

Blue Eagle shook his head as his grimoire flipped through its pages. Seeing Yagos' stunned expression, he sighed, speaking flatly. "We're done here."

With a snap of his fingers, Yagos—who had been floating—began to swell, yes, swell like a balloon.

"Aughh!" Yagos cried out as his body bloated uncontrollably. He felt his bones, organs, and blood shifting in unnatural ways, straining against his skin as if he were on the verge of bursting.

It hurts! His mind screamed, desperate and raw. Hoarsely, he begged aloud, "W-wait, s-spare me, please!" Death he had accepted; this kind of pain, he hadn't.

Blue Eagle shook his head again, his tone icy. "First, I can't cancel this spell once it's started. And second, I already gave you a chance to kill yourself—a painless way out. You passed on it."

And you call me the sinner? was Yagos' last thought as he floated high into the air and finally burst.

A rain of blood, bones, and organs cascaded from the sky, yet somehow, it all parted to fall around Blue Eagle, leaving him untouched.

A moment passed as Blue Eagle surveyed the remains, clenching his fist in frustration.

In my past life, I was a coward, flinching at the slightest hint of pain, the kind who couldn't even stomach horror movies unless they were animated. But now? Here I am, watching a scene a thousand times more graphic than anything on screen—and I'm responsible for it. I should be on my knees throwing up, purging everything I've eaten since last week. Trembling like a damn coward. And yet... I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing!

Blue Eagle couldn't understand. Sure, his predecessor had been cold, an apathetic man who had seen his share of blood and gore as a healer, but he was the one in charge of this body now, not the original Sebastian Silva.

As he turned to regroup with Gray Wolf and Green Owl, he sighed. Something is very wrong with me. I need to get that checked out.

A Couple Minutes Later:

The effects of the Paralyze Knife were wearing off as Lotus and Fanzell slowly opened their eyes, taking in the scene before them.

They were chained to a tree, bound with ropes that seemed to sever their connection to mana. Looking up, they saw Gray Wolf and Green Owl flanking the Man in Blue, who stood calmly in the center as if he were the undisputed leader of the group.

As though reading their thoughts, the Man in Blue spoke with an indifferent tone. "You may call me Blue Eagle."

Blue Eagle paused briefly before continuing, "Naturally, my being here means your leader is dead. So don't waste energy struggling or calling for help. No one's coming to save you."

As Blue Eagle's words sank in, Fanzell nodded weakly, his eyes drifting to the grimoires caged in those same strange, floating gray cubes. Beside him, Lotus narrowed his eyes on the group, studying them closely.

He fixated on Green Owl first, nodding slightly to himself. I'm fairly certain that's Damnatio Kira—unless he has some unknown bastard sibling. His build doesn't match the reports, though. Must be using a magical tool, like the one disguising their grimoires.

His gaze shifted to their plain black grimoires, and then to Gray Wolf. No idea who that is.

Finally, he focused on Blue Eagle, standing confidently in the center. There's only one man in the Clover Kingdom who's both a water mage and associated with eagles. But could Sebastian Silva really be strong enough to kill the general? Or is our intelligence completely off?

The thought unsettled Lotus. If their intel on someone that high-profile was wrong, that meant their painstakingly groomed spies were either incompetent—or, worse, compromised.

But that, I could accept, Lotus thought, trying to make sense of the possibility. What I can't understand is why a royal patriarch would be so reckless, leaving such obvious clues to his identity. What's the point of disguising yourself if you're going to practically announce who you are?

That can only mean one thing! Lotus froze, his breath hitching as he clamped his mouth shut, barely containing his excitement, as though he'd just uncovered a massive secret. This guy dressed like that on purpose, so we'd think he's Sebastian Silva. That means he's probably going to spare us and let us go… so we can run back to Diamond, blame Silva for the death of an Eight Shining General, and spark a conflict between our kingdoms. That would lead to full-blown war.

Lotus convinced himself he'd pieced it all together. Diamond would demand justice, pressing Clover to either hand over Sebastian Silva or execute him. But Clover would do neither. Turning over Silva wasn't an option—he knew far too many of their secrets. Executing him would be unthinkable; after all, he'd killed an Eight Shining General, saved a Magic Knight squad, and disrupted this intricate plot. He should be hailed as a hero, not condemned.

And if Clover did go down that road? House Silva would never stand for it, Lotus thought, picturing the chaos that would unfold. They'd consider it an outrage, a blow to Clover's pride and its nobility—a humiliating insult Clover's classist society could never accept!

In the end, only one option would be left—a bloody war that would consume lands and snuff out countless lives, all because neither side could admit their wrongs or back down. And during that chaos, this Secret Order would be free to pursue its true goals, while both kingdoms were too distracted to notice.

A chill ran down Lotus's spine as he looked at Blue Eagle, feeling as if he were staring at the devil himself.

The only thing Lotus couldn't piece together was Damnatio Kira's involvement. Why is he here? Lotus wondered. Is he an impostor too? Scale Magic didn't exist before his mother. Unless…

His pupils dilated. We suspected Damnatio harbored resentment toward his father for what happened to his mother. What if that resentment has grown to encompass the entire Clover Kingdom?

Lotus subtly studied Green Owl. He wants revenge—he wants to see Clover burn. The more he thought about it, the more terrifying possibilities lined up in his mind. Keeping his face impassive, Lotus hid his theories. If they realize I've seen through their scheme, they'll kill us for sure.

"Lotus Whomalt and Fanzell Kruger…" Blue Eagle's calm voice broke his thoughts, pulling both men's attention back to him.

This is it, Lotus thought grimly. I need to play my cards right, convince them to let us go. And I'll keep Fanzell in the dark about the truth. This is for His Majesty's ears only!

"...What do the two of you say about joining the Clover Kingdom?" Blue Eagle finished.

An awkward silence settled over the group as Lotus and Fanzell processed his words. They exchanged confused glances, blinking before turning back to Blue Eagle.

"Huh?" Their voices came out in unison. Whatever they had expected, this wasn't it.

Omake:

"Not joining us?" Acier asked, tilting her head as she looked at a fidgeting Dorothy from her bed.

Noelle sat in Acier's lap, while Nozel sat across from Nebra and Solid, who were eating at the coffee table beside their mother's bed on Victorian-style sofas. Dorothy shifted nervously. "Dad said he had somewhere to go," she replied.

Acier sighed, then nodded. "That's fine." After a pause, she gave Dorothy a gentle smile. "Why don't you go sit next to Nozel, dear, and have your dinner."

As Dorothy nodded, Nozel spoke up. "I've already filled your plate—come and sit." He'd left a spot next to him, patting the seat. Dorothy gave him a small smile, causing him to blush inwardly, though he maintained a calm expression as she skipped over and sat beside him.

Dorothy took a light sip of her tea. Tea at dinner? Nobles have such strange habits. She glanced around, noticing the tension in the room. Mom seems disappointed Dad isn't here. I don't know what's going on in little Noelle's world, and Solid and Nebra seem comfortable enough—but I swear I caught a flicker of disappointment in their eyes.

Her gaze slid over to Nozel, her fiancé. He's acting indifferent, but I think he's a little bummed out too. Dorothy narrowed her eyes in determination. I've got to break this atmosphere. Small talk, Dorothy—make it funny, but not too weird. Just funny enough…

What could I say? She scrambled mentally. "Hey, want to hear how I almost got mauled crossing a strong magic zone to get here?" No, not exactly kid-friendly. Or maybe, "Want to hear how I traumatized the child of your mom's savior?" No, that's a hard no.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly blurted out loud, "Hey, Nozel, how do you think our kids are going to look?"

She froze as a loud clunk broke the silence. Nebra and Solid had both spilled their tea, staring at her, wide-eyed. "Huh? What happened?" Dorothy asked, confused, as she looked around the room. Noelle was pointing at her, giggling uncontrollably, and Acier's eyes were equally wide with surprise.

Dorothy turned to see Nozel struggling to meet her gaze, his face flushed bright red. Oh. She blinked, realization hitting her. Did I just say that out loud?

"Mom…did I really just say that?" Dorothy asked in a small voice, feeling her face heat up.

Acier gave her an awkward nod.

Before anyone could respond, Dorothy disappeared in a swirl of purple and pink, fleeing to her Glamor World for refuge.

"W-wait, Dorothy!" Nozel called, reaching out, but she was already gone. Silence filled the room, broken only by Noelle's mad giggling and clapping, delighted at the spectacle.

Nebra and Solid kept their heads down, not daring to look at their older brother. Nozel's eyes, however, landed on Acier as she cleared her throat.

"Nozel Silva," she said, her voice awkward, "the two of you haven't…already done it, right—?"

"Mother!" Nozel burst out, his face as red as a tomato. "I'm only sixteen!"

Acier lowered her head, muttering under her breath, though loud enough for everyone to hear, "And I'm just about to turn thirty-three."

Nozel blinked. Oh.

Author's Notes:

[1] A real magic tool in the Black Clover verse. 

[2] Made by me


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