"Luca, my dear, it's so good to see you!"

My grandmother's warm voice floated across the dining room as she entered. Her cane tapped against the marble floor, announcing her arrival with quiet authority. Her smile blossomed across her face, radiant even as faint shadows of fatigue and inevitable death clung on beneath her eyes.

I rose from my seat to greet her, and she immediately pulled me into a tight, enveloping hug.

Apophis shifted on my left shoulder, sliding slightly to avoid being squished between us, while Leona leaped off my right shoulder and onto the top of my head.

"It's good to see you too," I mumbled, relaxing into her warm and soft embrace. The familiar scent of honeysuckle enveloped me like a blanket, and I felt a childlike peace.

She drew back, hands resting lightly on my arms, her eyes scanning me up and down with exaggerated scrutiny. "Why are you so thin? Are your parents not feeding you properly?"

Her dark red lips pursed, and her tongue clicked softly as her gaze swept from my face to the rest of my body.

I couldn't help but smile.

Some things never changed between loops.

Her gaze flicked to Apophis, still perched neatly on my shoulder, his purple eyes glinting with amusement.

"And I see you've acquired a new pet?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Yes," I replied, "in a manner of speaking."

~Hah. In a manner of speaking, indeed.

Apophis' voice slithered through my mind, rich with a smug tone.

My grandmother merely chuckled and gestured toward the table. "Come, sit. Let's put a little meat on those bones of yours."

She nudged me back toward my chair and lowered herself into the seat across from mine.

I sat down, and my gaze drifted to the tall arched windows on my right. The view beyond was breathtaking. Night had fallen, and the area twinkled with golden lights—those within the town were clustered together, while others scattered like fireflies across the patchwork of distant farmland. Above the land, stars were beginning to emerge in the dark night sky. The whole scene felt suspended in stillness, peaceful and serene.

The hush of the moment was gently interrupted by the soft, synchronized footsteps of incoming staff. Ben led the procession, timing it as impeccably as ever.

Silver trays were carried in one after another. Steam rose from each dish as they were uncovered and placed between us. It was far too much food for the two of us, but I suspected it would all be gone by dinner's end.

"Several of these were prepared by Arnold Bumblefudge, as requested," Ben noted, pointing toward three dishes near the end of the table. "The others were made by other kitchen staff."

Tsk.

In my haste, I hadn't sent the journal ahead of the carriage, as I had done in the prior loop. Instead, I had handed it over upon my arrival. And that had diminished the number of dishes that Arnold learned to prepare in time for dinner.

[[ System, set a reminder to send the journal ahead on my next loop. ]]

[ Noted. ]

"Grandmother, please try these," I said, carefully heaping generous portions of Arnold's dishes onto her plate. Even if only three of the many dishes were prepared by him, I wanted to make sure she ate as much of his cooking as possible.

She accepted the food with amused curiosity. "Aren't you the attentive grandson?" she mused.

"Please eat a lot," I replied, and then quickly began to pile food on my plate.

It might've looked like I was starving from the sheer amount of food I was piling onto my plate, but I wasn't eating for one. Two, technically—though ten would've been more accurate.

Finally, proper food!

Leona swooped in and pounced on the food on my plate. One might have imagined that I had starved her all day, when the opposite couldn't be more true.

Given she was invisible, I couldn't see her eat, but the quickly disappearing food made her presence obvious.

"It seems we have a rather ravenous ghost at the table," Grandma remarked, lifting a brow in amusement.

"Something along those lines," I replied, smiling and not attempting an explanation.

Apophis, by contrast, remained coiled around my left shoulder like an ornament, not bothering with so much as a crumb of the food before us.

Just what in the world does he eat?

I decided to pose the question to Apophis via Illusion Magic.

~Master, you genuinely want to know? Apophis hissed by my ear, his tone too pleased. Another time may be better. I wouldn't want to spoil your appetite—and I agree with your grandmother: you're far too thin. Take this opportunity to eat.

"Ben mentioned you had Claude Noire as a guest here," Grandmother said, cutting through my silent conversation with the snake. Her eyes gleamed with interest. "I'm rather intrigued by that. What brought about such an... unlikely meeting?"

I slowly chewed a roasted brussel sprout, buying time.

Honestly, I still didn't quite understand it myself.

"The connection came about through a lucky coincidence," I said at last.

Technically true. It had to be some cosmic, preposterous stroke of coincidence that we'd ended up on friendly terms.

I took a long sip of water, washing down the sprout and collecting my thoughts.

"There are quite a few differences between us," I admitted. "But we've come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. In exchange for helping him restructure his syndicate away from the sale of mages toward something more profitable, he's agreed to halt those operations entirely—and to publicly support mage rights."

My grandmother's dark red lips curved wider.

"Is he now? A champion of mage rights?" she said, and let out a light, elegant laugh. "I see I've lived long enough to witness the impossible."

"And I wish you to live even longer," I said. "There's plenty of impossibilities I'd love for you to witness."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

She smiled toward me. Her eyes twinkled with a slight melancholy and perhaps pride. "Luca, I'm sure you'll pave the way to making many impossibilities a reality. But I have less sand in my hourglass than either of us would like."

I clenched my jaw.

I knew she wouldn't be able to live long in this loop. I accepted it. Arnold still had a long way to go before his cooking could reattach limbs, much less recover someone from their deathbed. That would require years and many loops. But it still pained me.

"Now, away with that. Your birthday is coming up," she changed the subject.

"Not for a couple of months," I replied with a smile, going along with the change in topic.

"Tomorrow the Summer Festival is taking place—you should go," she suggested. "Buy yourself a present, whichever catches your fancy. Price is not an issue."

I nodded. "I'll do that, but grandmother," I said. "Could I request for another item as well? It's something you already have in your possession."

My grandmother arched her brow.

"Perhaps," she said slowly. "Depending on what it is. What could you possibly want, dear?"

I set my fork down.

"Years ago, I found a ring," I began. "It didn't look like much. It appears to be a cracked steel band. But I carved my name into it, so I can easily recognize it if I see it again."

I noted that my grandmother's expression didn't change, but there was a slight flicker in her eyes. Recognition, perhaps?

"Mother had it taken into storage afterward," I continued. "I assume she recognized it for what it was. I would like it back."

That drew a clearer reaction. My grandmother's lips pressed together, not in displeasure, but in quiet contemplation.

"That's not a simple ring, Luca," she said, her voice cooling. "It's dangerous."

"I know," I replied.

"I'll need to have a few mages transport it for you," she added.

Apophis stirred slightly on my shoulder, his interest piqued.

"No need." I lifted a hand and shook my head. "That'll be more trouble than it's worth. I can retrieve it myself. I know where it is. It's below the villa. I just thought it courteous to let you know."

She studied me, her eyes sharp behind the warmth. She didn't bother asking me how I knew about the room below the villa.

"And you must know I can handle it," I added. "Afterall, I had found it and even inscribed my name into it without facing any repercussions."

Finally, she nodded.

"Very well," she said. "It is yours, originally. I'll have Ben escort you there. But Luca…" Her tone cooled just a touch. "Do not take lightly what you're asking for. That ring is no mere trinket—Chaos magic is a hazardous sort of magic."

Her eyes focused on Apophis atop my shoulder.

~She knows.

[[ Of course she does. ]]

I smiled faintly.

This was Ruth Arankagul, the matriarch of House Arankagul and guardian of half the kingdom's darkest secrets. She had a supposedly extinct dragon hidden in the caverns deep below and a collection of Chaos artifacts sealed away in her vaults. She had recognized Apophis on sight, just as I suspected she saw right through Leona's invisibility—at the very least to discern that she was of no notable danger to us.

I glanced at the table that had practically been licked free of any food by the hungry phoenix.

But my grandmother was not the kind of person to say aloud all that she knew. Her power, like everything else about her, ran quiet and deep.

"I'm aware," I said softly. "I'll be careful."

Before she could reply, Ben entered the room with a small glass vial in hand.

"Madame," he said, presenting the Red Poppy Potion.

It was a gentle but sobering reminder, the kind that made the air feel a touch heavier. My grandmother was gravely ill, with barely any days left.

My grandmother accepted the vial without a word and drank it in one fluid motion.

"Thank you, Ben," she said. "Luca here wishes to go down—"

"Ah, before that—" I interrupted, quickly. "Would you play a game of chess with me first?"

She paused. Then a smile appeared across her face, radiant and full of mischief, like sunlight breaking through a dark cloud.

"Ben, bring the board and pieces," she ordered, her voice warm with amusement.

He gave a slight bow and turned to fetch them, while the servants quietly cleared the table.

"Prepare to lose," she added with a playful smile.

"I can't wait," I replied, excited about the new insight I would glean from our match and about spending time with my grandmother.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Claude Noire?" a voice called from down the hall.

A smiling woman with neatly styled black hair appeared. "This is quite unusual for you. It's late. We didn't expect you to appear."

Claude offered her a slow grin as he passed her without pause, his black coat fanning out like a shadow behind him. "Ah, but appear I have."

She jogged to catch up, heels clicking against the stone floor. "Ah! It's—this way. I'll take you to our VVIP room."

"After you," he said smoothly, matching her pace now that she led the way.

The hallway curved gently, lined in familiar indigo wallpaper and silver-framed paintings. They passed door after door, each practically identical, polished, and anonymous, with no sound coming from within.

Curated discretion.

"This way," she said again, motioning him around the final corner. She stopped in front of a tall silver-plated door etched with the scene of a warrior impaling another with a jagged spear. It was a subtle artistic message.

Claude took a moment to study it. Then, with one gloved hand, he pushed the door open and stepped through.

A hush fell over the circular chamber, with its jade pillars, silver inlays, and soft ambient lighting from the scattered light stones.

Claude's gaze swept the five figures seated around the circular crystal table.

"Ah, the person I most hoped to see," Dion said first, grinning wide enough to flash the gold-plated teeth that gleamed in the light.

"Isn't this past your bedtime?" came a lazy drawl from beside him.

Blythe 'The Menace' Calabrese had his filthy boots propped on the table and a silver flask swinging in one hand. His smirk was the kind that always preceded a barfight, though Claude doubted he'd be foolish enough to swing a fist in here.

"Late hour or not, it's a treat to have you," Lady Agnese Hensley said smoothly, her teacup poised mid-sip. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Every gesture she made radiated pedigree—chin high, posture immaculate. She had the poise of high nobility, but ultimately her bread and butter came from integrating herself with those of low brow and questionable status, seated here.

"You missed out on some profitable discussions," Marianna Gerlita added, her feathered fan fluttering near her face. "We even behaved ourselves. Can you believe it?"

"Is that so?" Claude smiled, but his eyes flicked toward the only person at the table who hadn't said a word.

Micah Frey.

The silence between them wasn't accidental. There was a quiet evaluation of their standing in the current timeline.

"Let's cut the pleasantries," Dion grunted, finally breaking the pause. "Claude, sit down, will ya? I haven't got all night for this idle chit-chat—I've got my own shit to attend to."

Claude's eyes lingered on Micah just a beat longer. He was unreadable, but Claude suspected that he was also well aware of the reality of the loops.

So be it.

"Very well, let's get to it then," Claude replied toward Dion, and took a seat across the table from Micah. "Who's next on the agenda?"

Marianna fanned herself lightly. "Lady Agnese has no topics this time, and I always go last—for fairness, of course. That would make it your turn, Micah."

Micah glanced at Dion, then said smoothly, "Given how pressed Dion seems to be, I propose we let him speak first."

Claude arched a brow.

Micah wasn't one to adjust the order without purpose. This was calculated.

But to what end?

"No take-backs," Dion said quickly, seizing the opportunity.

Marianna turned toward him with a honeyed smile. "Very well, Dion dear. What matter did you wish to bring before us?"

Dion leaned forward, resting his elbows on the crystal table. One of his golden teeth caught the light as he smiled again.

"I've come across a new opportunity," he said. "A mage line. Young, raw, and untouched. Found on the second continent in an isolated village with no affiliations. The kind that's easy to mold and easy on the eyes."

He glanced toward Marianna. "A few might even suit your tastes, especially now that The Ogre's retired."

The room went still.

"But I'll need help moving them across borders," Dion continued smoothly. "And setting up the distribution. Micah, your existing merchant network would make it clean and efficient."

Micah didn't blink. "Not my kind of business."

Dion waved a hand dismissively. "Didn't think so. The Freys have always been squeamish about making a coin off mages."

His gaze slid next toward Blythe and Claude.

"But the Hogshead Syndicate? And Spider Syndicate? You two know how to move product. This is an opportunity to expand your operation into the second continent. Interested in a share of the profit?"

Blythe leaned back with a lazy grin. "The Hogshead Syndicate deals in weapons, not pretty faces. Best of luck, old man."

Dion's smile faded slightly as he turned to Claude.

Claude held his stare for a moment. The room waited.

"Not interested," Claude said coolly.

Dion blinked. "What?"

He looked genuinely surprised, as did more than half the table.

"Why?" Dion asked.

Claude didn't elaborate, simply adding, "Personal reasons. And changing business priorities."

Lady Agnese's smile was tight and curious. "Personal reasons?"

Claude felt a heaviness press in, evidence of her attempts to probe into his mind. He was wearing a mind-repelling coat, but she attempted to try her luck nonetheless.

Marianna's fan snapped shut in the air. "Changing business priorities? How novel."

Claude merely shrugged and leaned back, unbothered.

He wasn't giving up on expanding his syndicate's mage ranks. There were still ways to honor his agreement with Luca through ethical recruitment and expressions of protection.

But if he wanted to earn Luca's trust?

Partnering with Dion is a line I can't cross. Not anymore.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.