Kaiser felt an unfamiliar sensation as Lord Zilean approved of his command, relief mixed with genuine surprise, almost bordering on satisfaction. For a fleeting moment, Kaiser allowed himself to think that perhaps royalty here, in this strange and maddeningly complicated world, wasn't as insufferably dense as the nobles and royals he'd known back home. Even his own 'father', that man who had raised him out of cold obligation rather than affection, always insisted on emphasizing his superiority over common men. It was an arrogance Kaiser found infuriating, a hubris he vowed he would never suffer quietly again.

Yet just as quickly as it arose, that quiet joy was snuffed out like a candle before a hurricane.

Lord Zilean shifted again, a subtle movement laden with implications. The metallic voice beneath his helmet resonated clearly. "However, I cannot comply with your plan, Kaiser."

Celestine's expression immediately dimmed. Kaiser's jaw tightened slightly, suspicion flickering behind his crimson gaze. The entire room seemed to tense as the enormity of Zilean's refusal registered.

The armored lord continued, addressing the entire room but focusing his unseen gaze firmly on Kaiser. "I did not come here to involve myself in this particular Tale. My presence here, young Liberator, was prompted solely by reports of a certain individual—a man who, much like myself, was born without a soul."

Kaiser's eyes narrowed at the strange statement, mentally filing away yet another cryptic term: Soulless. It clearly meant something significant here, something he'd need to understand quickly. And then there was that other phrase Zilean had used before, the War-Den. It carried the weight of a powerful place, or perhaps a clandestine organization under the direct oversight of the king's own brother. Whatever its nature, it was clearly important, and Kaiser decided he would interrogate someone, Celestine most likely, later to understand exactly what he was dealing with.

Zilean, oblivious or uncaring of Kaiser's inward calculations, pressed onward. "My priority must remain capturing this Soulless individual and bringing him to the War-Den immediately. However…" He turned, and despite the lack of visible eyes beneath the helm, everyone felt his gaze settle upon Elsie's defiant visage, frozen in ink and canvas. "…Since this young woman appears to be a friend of my little rose, I am willing to offer a small exception."

Celestine's eyes widened in immediate hope. "Uncle, can you help Elsie or not?"

Zilean inclined his head slightly, visor reflecting the strange light of the ruined village. "If we are to be exact, the affliction woven into her is of a particularly intricate nature, a curse that acts as a conduit, not simply binding her Sol, but continuously siphoning it into a system I cannot map, nor disrupt. Its matrix is foreign, woven with patterns and logic wholly alien to the established constructs of Sol. It is not a binding I can unweave or break by conventional means, nor does it allow for reversal, as the path of her Sol is neither fixed nor reciprocal."

"However," he continued, "While I cannot perceive the origin or destination of the siphoned Sol, cannot, in truth, even define the precise channel by which it travels—I am able to introduce a compensatory field. By distorting the temporal ratio within the network that draws upon her Sol, I can exponentially slow the rate at which the curse extracts from its source. Think of it as introducing friction into a current of water, while I cannot dam the river, I can thicken the channel, forcing the flow to crawl rather than surge. The loss will not cease, but what would be hours might become days."

He looked down at Elsie's painted form, visor dimming. "It is not a true cure. It is, at best, a buffer. In the end, the underlying mechanism remains beyond my grasp, but this delay should prove sufficient for you to pursue a true solution, or at the very least prevent further harm until then."

Instantly, the mood in the room shifted again, this time toward cautious optimism. Celestine exhaled shakily, relief evident in her tense shoulders finally relaxing. Aria clapped a hand over her mouth, blinking rapidly, clearly fighting tears. Even Ivan, still hovering nervously by the doorway, let out a sigh, though guilt lingered in his eyes.

Kaiser, though still wary, allowed himself a measured nod of respect. He was not a man given to emotional outbursts, nor excessive gratitude, but even he understood the significance of the gesture. "Thank you, Lord Zilean."

The lord's response was a simple, dignified nod. "It is a minor alteration in the grand scheme, Kaiser, but it will buy you time. Time you must use wisely."

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Kaiser's expression softened slightly, a rare moment of open acknowledgment. He turned back towards Celestine and Aria, shifting quickly from gratitude back to the pragmatic strategist he was. "Then we should leave immediately. Ivan, prepare the survivors for transport. Aria, ready yourself to leave as soon as the portal is recharged. Every second counts."

He turned to Celestine, lowering his voice but making sure everyone could hear. "There is also a slight change of plans, Princess. Ivan, you're free to go with Aria, escort the villagers and make sure they are in the Liberatorium. Lord Zilean has his own work here, and frankly, we'll only slow each other down if we you stay with us here."

Ivan blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Wait, I thought—aren't we splitting into three groups? I mean—"

"Not anymore." Kaiser's tone was final. "If what Lord Zilean suggested is true, and it takes hours for a portrait to become a monster, then we have a limited window. The more time we spend searching every house, the more villagers might cross that threshold and become lost to us forever. Our best bet is to cut this at the root."

Aria frowned, glancing between Kaiser and Celestine. "So you're going after the source? Just you two?"

Celestine nodded, her eyes shining with sudden resolve. "It's riskier, but it might be the only way to save the most lives. If we keep chasing survivors, we might be too late for everyone."

Ivan hesitated, torn between duty and worry for his friends. "I… I get it."

Kaiser nodded, giving Ivan a rare look of approval. "Good. You're responsible for those lives now, Ivan. Don't let any of them out of your sight. Understood?"

Ivan swallowed, the enormity of the task settling on his shoulders like a physical weight. For all his bravado, he'd never felt more vulnerable, or more vital. "I won't let you down," he added softly, almost to himself.

Kaiser turned to Aria, his tone softer than usual. "Be careful, Aria. Don't take unnecessary risks."

Aria grinned, the tension easing a little from her shoulders. "Worried about me, old man?"

He allowed himself the faintest of smiles. "Don't make me regret trusting you."

She nudged him with her elbow, her eyes alight. "Please, I'm the least trouble you'll have all day."

Kaiser shook his head, mock-exasperated. "Just come back in one piece."

Aria gave him a quick thumbs-up, sadness, but still sincerity in her voice. "You too, Kaiser. Don't go hogging all the glory from our first Tale."

For a split second, something unspoken passed between them, before they broke apart to face their separate paths.

Kaiser smirked, then turned back to Celestine, meeting her gaze with cool determination. "Let's move."

Celestine, regaining her composure quickly, nodded firmly. "Right. Let's get moving."

Just as Kaiser moved to lead the others out, he paused, turning back to Lord Zilean. "Is it acceptable for us to leave you here alone? You did mention urgency."

Zilean chuckled softly, a metallic rumble carrying amusement rather than offense. "Your consideration is noted, Kaiser, but unnecessary. There is little threat in this village that could hope to trouble me. Besides, my work here is delicate. I must remain and stabilize this girl's Sol flow until it reaches a sustainable pace. It will take around half an hour. Use that time productively and then return."

Kaiser nodded once again, deeply appreciative but careful to show only respectful acknowledgment. "Understood. Thirty minutes, then."

As he turned back, Celestine lingered behind, stepping closer to her towering uncle. Her voice was soft but carried clearly through the quiet room. "Uncle… thank you. Elsie is—"

"Dear to you, I know," Zilean finished gently. His armored gauntlet rested lightly on her shoulder, impossibly careful despite its size. "Go now, Little Rose. Trust your companion's plan. You are stronger together."

She smiled faintly, warmth briefly lighting her golden eyes. "We'll be back soon."

Aria joined Celestine's side, nodding gratefully at Zilean, though clearly still somewhat overwhelmed by his intimidating presence. "Thank you, my lord. Elsie…Elsie means a lot to all of us."

Zilean gave another nod, acknowledging Aria's words kindly before turning back towards Elsie's painting, summoning intricate, glowing runes from the orb hovering in front of him. They danced silently around Elsie's image, gently coaxing her Sol to slow its escape.

Outside, Ivan quietly instructed the gathered clones. Villagers, battered and weak, were being prepared for transport to safety. He looked back at Kaiser, eyes filled with lingering confusion but newfound respect. "I…I'll take care of everything, Kaiser. I remember where the building was."

Kaiser only nodded firmly, a simple gesture of quiet trust that spoke louder than words. It was enough. Ivan straightened, determined to live up to the unspoken expectation.

Finally, with the plan clear, and no time left to waste, they moved swiftly out onto the village streets, splitting into their assigned tasks. Celestine broke away , slipping quietly into the shadows to begin her own search, heading where she thought she remembered the painter lived. Aria and Ivan rushed toward the teleportation pad, ready to alert the Liberatorium and request reinforcements. Kaiser stood alone for a brief moment, taking stock of the eerie silence now blanketing the village.

He glanced back toward the house where Zilean continued his careful work. As the armored figure bent protectively over Elsie's painted form, Kaiser felt a strange, grudging respect for the mysterious lord, despite himself. Perhaps this man truly was different from the arrogant royalty he had known. Perhaps this world itself was different...

Who was he kidding? Different world or not, men in armor were still men in armor. Crowns changed, but nothing else did. It was never the world that changed, only the players.

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