Elara walked the winding corridor of the City Lord's Mansion, her steps echoing softly against the polished stone floor. Beside her, Yanlu's silver hair gleamed faintly beneath the lantern light, while Nijisha followed with a quiet, measured grace.

Ahead of them, two familiar figures appeared — Liyi Yi and Sophia, both descending the grand stairway.

"Where are you going?" Elara asked, her tone calm, yet touched with mild curiosity.

Sophia straightened and bowed respectfully. "Lady Elara, I'm taking Miss Liyi Yi to dinner."

Elara gave a faint nod, her silver eyes softening. "Go ahead. I'll come find you later."

"Understood." Liyi Yi smiled — a small, hopeful smile that hinted at the excitement swelling quietly in her heart.

As the pair disappeared down the corridor, Elara continued toward the study with her two companions in tow.

The corridor beyond was silent but for the soft shuffle of boots.

"When did you join Black Tortoise City?" Nijisha asked suddenly, curiosity threading her tone.

Elara's lips curved faintly. "It's been a while now."

Her answer was simple, guarded. The story of how she had come here — and why she stayed — was not one she offered freely.

"I joined today," Yanlu said curtly, her cool voice breaking through the air like frost on glass.

Nijisha's brows lifted in surprise. "Today? Why didn't you join together? Weren't you on the same team?"

Yanlu's expression stiffened. She turned her head aside, violet eyes shadowed. The question dug at old wounds — mistakes born of pride, of misguided loyalty.

"Don't ask," Elara said softly, her tone quiet but firm. "You'll understand later."

Nijisha sighed, sensing the line she had crossed. "Alright…"

She tried to change the subject, tempted to ask about the commercial street — the one she had glimpsed earlier, so full of life and color — but before she could, Elara halted before an open doorway.

"The study," Elara said, tapping gently on the carved doorframe.

"Come in," came the calm voice from within.

Luciel sat at his desk, a porcelain cup in his hand. His gaze lifted as the trio entered.

Elara led them in with quiet composure, then stepped aside, folding her hands behind her back. This was not her conversation to lead.

Luciel's eyes rested on the newcomer. "You must be Nijisha," he said, his tone mild, yet commanding.

Nijisha bowed her head slightly, her long cyan hair rippling like water down her shoulders. A dark cloth covered the lower half of her face, revealing only sharp, intelligent blue eyes.

"Yes, Lord Lucien," she replied respectfully. "We meet again."

"Sit," Luciel said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

She obeyed, but only perched lightly on the edge of the seat, posture straight, hands resting on her knees.

Luciel smiled faintly, swirling the tea in his cup. "Tell me," he said, his eyes steady, "how have you thought it over?"

Nijisha took a quiet breath. "My lord, I have three questions — if you would answer them."

"Go on," Luciel replied, motioning with his hand.

Her first question came with quiet gravity. "If we join Black Tortoise City, what will become of us? What duties would we serve?"

Luciel set the cup down, a faint clink of porcelain punctuating the silence. "You would handle intelligence, surveillance, and assassination."

The words were calm, but heavy. He had already decided her role long before this meeting. Nijisha and her people would become the Ghost Special Forces — unseen, unheard, indispensable. Their identities were dangerous to expose, and secrecy was their shield.

"There are many matters in Black Tortoise City now," Luciel continued. "Elara and her people cannot handle them all. The high ground near the outer wall is still unguarded. You and your team could take charge of that."

"That suits us," Nijisha said, a flicker of relief in her voice. It was the kind of work they understood — the kind that didn't demand they change who they were.

Her gaze lifted again. "My second question, Lord Black Tortoise — how many of us would you be willing to accept?"

The question was double-edged — about numbers, and about whether their secret affliction, the infection, would make them unwanted.

Luciel's eyes softened. "As many as wish to come," he said without hesitation. "I have no shortage of work… or of trust."

He studied her for a moment longer, then added, almost casually, "And personally, I don't find what's on your faces ugly. On the contrary—" his lips curved in a faint smile, "—it lends you a certain charm."

Nijisha blinked, stunned. Her blue eyes widened, unsure if she had heard correctly.

"Charm?" Yanlu murmured beside her, fingertips brushing against her own cheek as if to test the idea.

Luciel's smile deepened. "You'll see what I mean, in time."

A sharp crack shattered the stillness.

Mirean Moon, who had been standing quietly by the shelves, had clenched her cup too tightly. Porcelain split in her hand, scattering shards and tea across the desk.

Her aqua-blue eyes fixed on Luciel — wide, hurt, and disbelieving.

In front of everyone… he had just praised another woman.

"Are you hurt?" Luciel asked quickly. He rose, pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve and offering it to her.

Mirean shook her head stiffly, her lips tightening. "No… it's fine."

Her tone was polite, but the edges of her voice trembled.

Luciel met her eyes, his own gaze warm, calm. "Don't think too much," he said gently. His hand brushed over hers, a light touch against the back of her palm — a promise meant only for her.

Some words didn't need to be spoken. Between them, understanding passed in silence.

He had reasons for everything — and truths yet to be revealed. When the time was right, he would tell Mirean and Agni Moon everything about the virtual ghost infection. For now, it was better that they learned through trust rather than fear.

"Alright," Mirean whispered, her cheeks coloring faintly. She lowered her gaze, her earlier anger dissolving into shy confusion.

Mino, standing near the door, let out a quiet huff, crossing her arms. Elara caught her eye, and the two women exchanged a knowing glance. They understood more than the others — they had seen the bond between Luciel and Mirean deepen with each passing day.

"Interesting," Nijisha murmured under her breath. Her blue eyes flicked between Mirean, Elara, and Mino — three women, each with her own quiet fondness for the Lord of Black Tortoise.

She smiled faintly, half amused, half intrigued.

Yanlu, meanwhile, looked utterly lost. The tension in the room, the subtle glances — all of it seemed beyond her comprehension.

Luciel's voice drew them back. "You said you had a third question."

Nijisha straightened, her expression turning serious again. She cleared her throat softly. "Yes, my lord. If my team and I join Black Tortoise City… can you truly defend us from Amestris City's wrath?"

Her words dropped like stones into still water.

The assassination squad she commanded was one of Amestris City's hidden blades. If she defected — if too many followed her — war would be inevitable.

Luciel leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice low and steady, he said:

"As long as you swear loyalty to Black Tortoise City… no one will dare lay a hand on you."

His aura surged — invisible, immense, and suffocating. The very air in the study thickened, pressing down like a storm about to break.

Yanlu gasped softly, her violet eyes shrinking. Her body trembled, one hand gripping the chair as her knees threatened to give way.

Elara and Mirean both felt the power roll through the room — but the energy curved around them like a tide that knew its masters.

"I… I understand," Nijisha stammered, her face pale. Her blue eyes blazed with awe and conviction.

This was the answer she needed — a promise bold enough to risk everything for. If Luciel could face Amestris City without fear, then she would follow him, no matter the cost.

The air shifted again. The pages of an open book fluttered, though no breeze touched them.

Luciel's aura faded as swiftly as it had risen. Calm once more, he said simply, "You'll have a few days to prepare. Bring your people when you're ready."

His gaze lingered briefly on her white hair, the mark of her condition. "As for Amestris City's blockade… leave that to me."

He smiled — a small, dangerous smile. "It may even be convenient to let them make the first move."

Elara knew what he meant. This was not only about Nijisha's defection. It was also about vengeance — and about giving Amestris City just enough rope to hang itself.

"Yes, my lord," Nijisha said, rising and bowing deeply. "I'll make the arrangements at once."

"Go," Luciel said softly.

He turned to Elara. "Escort them to the ground level."

Elara inclined her head. "At once."

Nijisha saluted once more before following Elara out, her footsteps fading into the hall.

When the door closed, silence settled over the study again. Mirean set down her broken cup, still looking troubled.

"Will it not be too risky?" she asked quietly.

Luciel leaned back, eyes on the window where faint moonlight pooled across the desk. "Sooner or later," he said, "this was bound to happen."

He didn't speak of Elara's past, or the blood she carried within her — that story would unfold in time. For now, this alliance was both a shield and a test. Amestris City would have its pretext for conflict, but Black Tortoise City would gain the advantage of purpose.

Luciel's voice dropped, almost to a murmur. "There's still a city lord in Amestris who hasn't shown their face. I want to see who they send first."

Mirean said nothing. The night was quiet save for the faint whisper of wind against the stone walls — a wind that carried with it the weight of coming war.

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