~He's not going to make it.

Apophis hissed, his purple eyes fixed out the window.

Damn it. I know.

Claude's unmistakable carriage was mid-turn, wheels grinding against the road in protest, but the shadow behind him was gaining fast. It was too close. He wasn't going to outrun it.

I grit my teeth.

Claude Noire was a dangerous person whom I had countless reasons to be wary of. But I owed him one. He had done me a massive favor in the previous Round; one I wasn't even sure he was aware of having provided, given that I hadn't allowed him time to record the tattoo. Such was the magnitude of his cost.

And even if he had forgotten, I had not.

"Leona!" I called out, not bothering with Illusion Magic in my haste, even though Remlend was seated across from me. "Eat that carriage! I know it won't taste good, but if you do, in exchange, I'll have Arnold follow you into the desert. He'll cook you whatever you want."

Stillness. Then—CRASH!

Glass exploded outward as one of the carriage windows shattered. Glass shards clattered to the carriage floor like a spilled box of crystal.

~She must have been quite famished among the monks in the last loop if that was sufficient incentive, Apophis noted with a hint of amusement to his voice.

"Young master, are you alright?" Henry yelled out. He galloped beside the carriage window. His face had a look of concern.

"Yes, don't worry, Henry. It was my fault the window shattered," I replied.

Exhaling, I carefully brushed glittering fragments from my lap.

Ah, I should have opened the window first. Knowing Leona's mind is unstable, that request was too hasty on my part, even with the urgency of the situation.

I leaned toward the open frame, wind tugging at my hair as I leaned out for a better view of Claude's carriage.

I blinked and… Gone.

The carriage disappeared without a trace.

An empty road and flying dust remained where it had been just a moment earlier.

The dark shadow was still following behind, but the disappearing act caught it off guard as well. Or it was merely my wishful thinking. In any case, a moment later, it darted into the depths of the Humton Forest, vanishing into the tangle of blackened and twisted trees.

Human, Leona's voice sounded into my mind, and I felt her subtle warmth returning to my right shoulder. I'm afraid the three I ate do not agree with my stomach.

"Remlend, please switch seats," I ordered, tapping the cushion beside me.

Despite the recent commotion, none of which fell anywhere within what one might expect during a typical trip through the Humton Forest, Remlend's expression and body language betrayed no surprise or curiosity. It lacked any noteworthy emotion at all.

Remlend switched seats, without so much as a comment.

The perfect attendant.

"Henry," I called out. "Don't be too surprised—I'm going to have a couple of acquaintances teleported into the carriage."

"What?" Henry had a confused expression, as his face turned from facing forward to back at me through the broken window.

Whatever, he'll realize it soon enough, given the broken window and all. I at least did the due diligence to warn him.

[[ Go ahead, Leona ]]]

I told her using Illusion Magic, motioning toward the now-empty seats across from me.

[[ Return them here. ]]

Even if the gig was up with Remlend, I still had my driver and guards. With the window broken as it was, any conversation could be overheard. And unlike Remlend, the others were a bit more animated in their reactions.

A pulse of heat and magic surged, and suddenly, there they were: Claude Noire, his elderly mage companion, and the wide-eyed coachman, now seated directly across from me in my plush carriage.

The vehicle rocked slightly with the added weight. Hooves clattered outside, wind whistled through the broken window, and loose glass shards clinked gently against the floor with every turn of the wheels.

Claude's driver looked understandably stunned. His mouth was half open, eyes wide and sweeping across the carriage's interior. Of everyone present, his reaction felt the most normal.

The elderly mage on the other side of Claude narrowed her eyes, eyebrows furrowed with suspicion, though her posture remained stiffly composed. Her gaze locked onto Apophis atop my left shoulder.

The evil black snake gave a slow hiss in return, tongue flicking lazily, unbothered by the attention.

And in the center, sat Claude Noire.

He was taller and leaner than his companions and appeared entirely at ease. He wore a long coat, black with a silver trim that caught the light in delicate flashes. His gloved hands rested calmly on his thighs, which he allowed to comfortably spread out, as if this were his carriage.

His black hair, shoulder-length and strikingly dark, framed his pale face. The overall look was tousled but intentional, like a well-groomed wolf. His eyes, deep-set and the shade of moss, stared at me with unnerving attention.

There was no fear. No inkling of confusion.

He oozed the cool, calculating amusement of a predator thoroughly enjoying the turn of events. Measured. Dangerous. Like a wolf who'd stumbled upon something far more interesting than prey.

"Luca Frey," he said, voice smooth and low. "A pleasure to meet you. Again—though I admit, my memory of our past conversations is somewhat… secondhand."

He leaned to the right, looking out the shattered window.

"It appears that thing is gone," he noted, almost idly.

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"You're welcome," I replied dryly.

His eyes whipped back toward me, and a sly smile emerged across his pale complexion.

"Well, I'm certainly grateful for the chance to sit across from you like this," he said, gesturing faintly. "But as for that thing," he pointed out the window, "I assure you, Beletris and I could've handled ourselves."

The mage beside him, Beletris, nodded slightly.

I frowned.

Could they really? Does that mean that I still owe him a favor? Damn it.

"I originally thought I had a few things to discuss with you," Claude continued, casually brushing an invisible speck of dust from his coat. "But it seems the list has only grown. You're quite the enigma, Luca Frey. Full of surprises."

He let out a low chuckle.

"But what I wish to say would be best left for a more… private conversation, given our relationship." His eyes slid to Remlend, the gaze unmistakably pointed.

His words sent a shiver running up my legs and arms, with hair standing on end.

Why is everyone I meet like this? Why can't even a single Awakened or Aware be normal?

No.

There was just one: Sedna Ozeryn. Sedna was normal.

"We can talk once we reach the Town of Ascot," I said aloud, exhaling as I leaned back. I gazed out the broken window, and the scenery of twisted, black trees moved past.

Even though Claude Noire was incredibly dangerous and his peculiar attention toward me was unnerving, I couldn't deny that he was an invaluable ally to have. Far better to be an ally than an enemy.

Ah, Sedna. I hadn't seen her or spoken so much as a word with her in Round 9. Yet that wonderful human being had sent her contributions to fund Adovoria's military strength as promised, without complaint or delay. A miracle of a person.

She was the one sane and kind soul amongst this nightmare of tangled timelines and unstable individuals. How I wished all these other Aware and Awakened could be more like her.

And what have I done for her to repay all her kindness? Absolutely nothing.

Once Arnold's skill is high enough, perhaps he can cure whatever illness that poor angel is suffering.

I had already promised him to Leona during her training with the monks, but perhaps before he leaves, he can whip up a batch of his health-enhancing cookies that I can send her?

[[ System, put in a reminder for me to feed Arnold Bumblefudge's cooking to Sedna Ozeryn. ]]

[ Noted. ]

***

"Welcome, young master Luca," Ben greeted us at the top of the hill in front of the villa. "It is a pleasure to—"

His voice stopped.

Claude had just stepped down from the carriage behind me.

Ben's smile didn't falter, but the air sharpened. His tone, still outwardly polite, took on a rather vicious undercurrent, like a dagger being drawn.

"And what," he said smoothly, "is that gentleman doing here?"

The question came with perfect manners, but beneath the facade was a subtle threat. It wasn't just a query. It was a warning.

A dozen of the household staff stood behind Ben, all present to greet me. However, I noted how their hands had slipped inside jackets and sleeves, posture shifting almost imperceptibly, holding various actual daggers and weapons no doubt. All were prepared for matters to take a rather bloody turn.

Bringing along the head of one of the most dangerous syndicates on the continent to my grandmother's home warranted at least this much of a reaction.

I smiled. "Claude Noire," I announced, my voice light for show. "Head of the Spider Syndicate, and someone I have a few important matters to discuss with."

Everyone already knew who he was, so the introduction was partially for formality's sake. It was also my signal to Ben and the others: I know exactly who he is, and I brought him anyway.

"If it's too much trouble," I offered mildly, "we can speak at an inn in town instead."

Ben's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile widened.

"Oh no," he said, with the same amount of warmth as a cup of tea having sat out for an hour. "It would be far more comfortable for your grandmother if such discussions were held here. Under the comfort of her roof. With our staff attending to any of your needs after your long travel."

"Thank you, Ben," I said. We both understood the message clearly.

They didn't want Claude here. But if he was going to meet with the beloved grandson of the matriarch, regardless, it was better to keep him where there were watchful eyes at every turn.

Ben's gaze flicked toward Claude's two companions, still lingering near the carriage.

"And the other two?" he asked evenly.

[[ Leona, feel free to spit out Claude's carriage. ]]

[[ I know you are eager to be rid of it. ]]

There was a soft gasp from the household staff as Claude's plain wooden carriage shimmered into existence beside ours.

"I believe they'll stay with the carriage," Claude said, stepping forward with an elegant ease. "I won't be long. I'll head out shortly after my talk with Luca Frey concludes."

"Of course," Ben replied, with a tight smile. "We'll ensure their comfort while they wait for you in the courtyard."

"And Ben? Please pass this along to Arnold," I handed over the journal to him. "Please instruct him to start practicing these recipes right away."

***

With a pot of hot tea between us, and a pair of crisp white tea cups with dark blue designs of flowers sat on the low table between us.

We'd been granted privacy in one of the villa's side rooms. Not without resistance; Ben's protests had been sharp, but a small demonstration of my Illusion Magic had been enough to override his concerns.

Having learned that illusions can extend beyond the visual has certainly been a game-changer.

I lifted my cup. The tea was a deep shade of red, its scent warm and layered: wood, caramel, and a faint trace of honey.

"This is rooibos tea, only found to be capable of growing on the Soslan Islands," Claude commented, clearly well-versed. His voice was calm, almost academic.

I nodded. "It is. But I'm quite certain you didn't wish to meet with me to discuss tea."

I took a sip, eyes fixed over the rim, locking onto the man seated across from me.

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" Claude smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. "That's quite all right. I imagine you're busy. But do know, I am quite intent on improving my standing with you."

"I know," I muttered and instantly regretted it.

"Do you, now?" Claude broke out into a large, unsettling smile. It didn't fit him. "I'm happy to hear you're aware of my sincere desire to build a solid relationship with you."

I nearly choked on my tea.

This man…

Meeting with Chase Daylan had felt like walking on eggshells, with all the various misunderstandings. Still, at least I had a grasp of what those misunderstandings were and knew how to choose the appropriate words to negate potentially troublesome situations.

With Claude? I couldn't even begin to unravel why he was behaving the way he was.

In Round 9, he'd provided me crucial information about Ra Sol and his daughter, completely unprompted and without demanding anything in return. And when I needed time to reset, he'd practically sacrificed himself to make it happen.

Why?

My eyes landed on the various tattoos that peeked out from beneath Claude's attire. The explanation must have been among his tattoos, but until Micah's people could decode them, there was little I could do except ask Claude himself.

"Claude," I said, "I'd like you to be very clear with me—what do you want by aligning yourself with me? Because there are... a few obstacles we'll have to address before I can agree to anything."

Claude didn't hesitate. "The same thing Sedna Ozeryn wants."

I flinched.

Of all the names I expected from his mouth, hers was not on the list. Sedna Ozeryn, who gave quietly, selflessly, and with no expectation of reward. Sedna, who never once showed interest in power.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" I asked, wary.

"I want the loops to end," he said simply. "And I want to live a long, healthy life. Those goals," he leaned forward slightly, "are only possible with your help."

I frowned, gazing into my cup of red tea.

I became acutely aware of the flaw in my original thinking. Simply because I was unaware of Claude's involvement in the upcoming war didn't mean he didn't have a hand. He was shrouded in secrecy, operating from the shadows, with even the System having no knowledge of him. Yet he most certainly had lived through the many loops. And even if he couldn't remember the loops, there was likely a toll on him, nonetheless.

And besides…

My gaze shifted to the man himself.

This Claude is technically not the same person. Just as Fin will never be the one I knew from the previous timeline, neither will Claude be the same villain.

Even with all the evil that the Spider Syndicate was involved in, the most horrendous crimes were yet to occur. That didn't excuse recent past crimes, but I could perhaps turn a blind eye to those. However, I could not ignore his current crimes.

"If you're serious about working with me," I said slowly, "then you'll need to shut down your operations in the mage trade. Completely."

Claude nodded. "Done."

I blinked. "Just like that?"

"You seem surprised." Claude took a sip of his tea.

"I expected… more pushback," I replied. "Isn't that your syndicate's primary business model?"

I wasn't sure what reaction I expected, but this wasn't it.

"It is," he replied. "But the supply's thinning. Quality declines every month. It's an unsustainable market. Of course, there's still profit to be made, but if you're offering an alternative…"

He smiled again, like the calculating wolf that he was.

"With Sarka Jarbez under your wing, I assume you could help me pivot to something far more viable."

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