Oliver sighed and quickly stepped between them. "Right, right, okay — maybe next time, uh, ask for permission before doing that."

Seraphine blinked, processing that.

"Acknowledged. Permission protocol: acquired."

Isolde pinched the bridge of her nose. "If that's what counts as 'permission protocol,' I'm going to lose my mind before we even leave this forest."

Elisha chuckled softly from behind them, her hood half-pulled over her hair. "She's not doing any harm. It's actually… fascinating. It's like seeing a lost civilization walking beside us."

"Yeah," Oliver muttered. "One that doesn't understand boundaries."

Still, he couldn't help but notice — as strange and unnerving as Seraphine was, there was something oddly innocent about her. She moved with perfect grace, yet her gaze lingered on the smallest things: dew on leaves, birds darting between branches, Ariana's glowing staff when she cast her morning restoration spells.

At one point, she crouched beside a patch of wildflowers, her metallic fingers brushing gently over their petals.

"Organic structures exhibit fragility," she murmured softly. "Yet persist through chaos. Remarkable."

Ariana, who'd been walking beside her, smiled a little. "They're flowers. Fragile's what makes them pretty."

"Pretty…" Seraphine repeated, as though testing the word for texture. Her eyes dimmed briefly, like she was recording it. "Pretty equals valuable?"

Ariana chuckled. "Not always."

Oliver glanced back from the front of the line. "Careful, she's going to take that literally and start cataloguing beauty standards."

"Already processing," Seraphine replied instantly.

Isolde groaned audibly. "You've unleashed something dangerous, Oliver."

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that."

The group continued their slow march through the forest. Morning light broke through the canopy in golden beams, and for a few rare hours, there were no monsters, no screams — just the sound of their boots on dirt and Seraphine asking questions about everything.

"Why do humans require both food and sleep?"

"Why do biological units cry?"

"If death equals termination, why do you fear it?"

The questions came one after another, sometimes profound, sometimes absurd.

Ariana answered most with genuine patience, while Oliver mostly groaned or deflected. Isolde, on the other hand, looked like she was fighting the urge to bind Seraphine's mouth shut with a silence spell.

By noon, they stopped to rest near a small stream. The knights refilled their waterskins, Elisha tended to her notes, and Oliver sat with his boots off, letting the water cool his feet.

Seraphine knelt beside him, watching curiously.

"You remove your coverings to expose skin to liquid."

"It's called relaxing," Oliver said, eyes half-lidded.

"Relaxing…" she echoed. "This activity… appears inefficient."

Oliver chuckled. "Not everything's about efficiency."

Her head tilted again, the faintest crease of confusion forming on her otherwise perfect face. "Then what is it about?"

He opened one eye, meeting her gaze. "It's about feeling alive."

She blinked once, twice — then looked down at the running water. Her reflection rippled, fragmented, almost human.

"Alive," she murmured, almost to herself. "...I see."

Isolde, watching from a short distance, crossed her arms. "She's learning faster than I expected," she said under her breath.

Elisha glanced at her. "Is that good or bad?"

Isolde's eyes stayed on Seraphine, who was still watching the stream as though trying to decode its meaning.

"Ask me when she figures out what feeling really means," Isolde said quietly.

********

The days on the road passed in a blur of sunlight and dust.

The heavy air of the forest gave way to open plains, the scent of earth and green grass replacing the thick, damp musk of leaves and monsters. It was almost strange — the silence of survival replaced by the rhythm of hooves and the chatter of merchants on distant roads.

By the time the group reached the outer trade routes of Hestia Kingdom, the tension that had lingered since the ruin's collapse had begun to fade. They were alive. They had what they came for — and far more than they expected.

Elisha had decided not to return to the Valtaine territory. Instead, she declared they were heading straight to the capital. Her reasons were simple: to present her findings, the relics, and the proof of her expedition's success directly to the Emperor himself.

When she turned to Oliver's party and said, "You're coming with me," there was no hesitation in her voice — and surprisingly, no objection from anyone.

Oliver stretched lazily, grinning. "Well, I did say I was tired of staring at the same inn walls. Might as well see what a royal city looks like."

Ariana adjusted her staff, brushing back her auburn hair. "As long as we don't have to fight any more forest beasts, I'm fine with anywhere."

Isolde just gave a small, amused smile. "Wherever you go, I go. You know that already."

And then there was Seraphine. She had no opinion — she simply turned her glowing eyes toward Oliver and stated,

"Destination: Hestia Capital. Confirmed. Following Master."

Oliver sighed softly. "Right. Can't argue with that."

And so, their path was set.

Three days later —

The capital appeared over the horizon like something out of a painting.

Even from miles away, its towering walls gleamed under the midday sun — silver-white stone etched with faint golden runes that shimmered faintly in the light. The twin banners of Hestia, the flame and the crown, rippled high in the wind. Beyond the gates, the city sprawled endlessly, vibrant and alive.

Compared to the quiet charm of Valtaine County, this was an entirely different world.

As their carriages rolled through the massive gate, the difference was immediate — the air was alive.

Merchants shouted over each other from crowded stalls, hawking spices, jewels, and enchanted trinkets. Children darted between carts, laughter echoing down the streets. The smell of fresh bread, roasting meat, and mana incense mingled in the air — strange but oddly pleasant.

Ariana pressed close to the window, eyes wide. "There's so many people…"

Isolde smirked faintly. "Welcome to the heart of the kingdom. This is where the power, wealth, and corruption of the world meet."

Oliver leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes scanning everything with fascination. "You weren't kidding. Valtaine looks like a village compared to this."

And she was right. The capital was massive — layered streets and arched bridges connecting districts stacked on different elevations. Grand towers of marble and enchanted glass rose high above common rooftops, glowing faintly with mana circuits.

But what caught Oliver's eye most wasn't the size — it was the diversity.

People of all races walked the streets freely — humans, elves, beastkin, dwarves, even a few robed lizardfolk. There were blacksmiths chanting forge-runes in dwarvish, elven mages selling scrolls, and beastkin mercenaries laughing rowdily near taverns.

"Guess this is what a real kingdom looks like," he muttered. "Like the whole continent gathered in one place."

Elisha, who was seated opposite him, smiled faintly. "Hestia's strength has always been unity. At least, that's what the crown claims."

Outside, the crowd parted as royal knights cleared the road for their convoy. The polished armor of Hestia's guards gleamed beneath the sun, and the symbol of the royal flame adorned their cloaks. Their presence alone kept the noise at bay — though their eyes stayed sharp, watching every shadow.

"Security's tight," Isolde noted, glancing out the window.

Elisha nodded. "The capital's been on edge recently. Tensions between noble houses have been growing — especially with my brother's faction gaining strength."

Oliver frowned slightly. "Sounds like the kind of place where getting caught in the wrong conversation can get you killed."

"That's politics," Isolde said dryly.

As they entered the inner district, the chaos of the streets faded into orderly cobblestone paths lined with trees and fountains. The architecture shifted from colorful merchant houses to grand estates of white stone and gold-trimmed gates. Carriages became fewer, but far more lavish.

Even Ariana looked uneasy now. "We're really going to stay here?"

Elisha chuckled softly. "Don't worry. I'll make arrangements at the royal guest quarters. You'll have more comfort than you'll know what to do with."

Oliver leaned back in his seat. "As long as it's got a bed, food, and no monsters trying to kill us, I'll take it."

From the other side of the carriage, Seraphine's calm voice cut through.

"Clarification: monsters will not be present within urban settlements. Threat level: minimal."

Ariana blinked at her. "You're… really good at ruining punchlines, you know that?"

Seraphine tilted her head, confused. "Punchlines?"

Isolde sighed. "Oh gods, here we go again."

Oliver chuckled under his breath. "You'll learn eventually, Seraphine."

"Learning… ongoing," she replied simply, her glowing eyes turning back to the window.

The carriage continued its way toward the heart of the city — toward the towering silhouette of the royal palace, its crystal spires cutting through the sky like blades.

For the first time in weeks, the road ahead didn't lead to ruins or death — but to the center of power.

And though no one said it aloud, they all felt it.

This was not the end of their journey.

This was the beginning of a far more dangerous one.

*****

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