"We're under attack!"

"!!"

The carriage jolted to a sudden stop, throwing Anna slightly forward in her seat. Outside, the sharp clash of steel and the panicked cries of horses filled the air.

'An ambush…?'

Her pulse quickened. She pushed herself upright, trying to steady her breathing as she reached for the door handle—

But before she could move, the door burst open with a heavy clang.

A shadow slipped inside, moving fast.

"Who—mmph!"

A calloused hand clamped tightly over her mouth, cutting off her voice.

"Shh," came a low whisper. The tone was calm but urgent.

Anna's eyes went wide in shock, her body tensing as she instinctively reached for the dagger hidden beneath her sleeve. But then—

White hair.

Even beneath the dull glow of the carriage's lamp, she could see it clearly—strands of snow-white hair peeking out from under a steel helmet.

Her eyes widened even further.

'That hair… it can't be…'

The helmet turned slightly, revealing just enough of his face for her to recognize the sharp line of his jaw and the familiar presence that lingered around him.

It was him.

Louis Vermoor.

The figure who had appeared out of nowhere during the last attack…

Her panic wavered, replaced by a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Why was he here? How did he know she was in danger—again?

----

I should've been able to hide my identity.

After all, I was in stealth mode.

That's what I thought.

But then—

Weeeeee!

A sharp siren suddenly blared through the night, echoing off the cobblestone walls.

I froze mid-step, my mind blank for half a second.

"…What the hell?"

The sound wasn't just loud—it was piercing, magically amplified, and clearly coming from the carriage itself.

And then it hit me.

The thing I hadn't considered.

The carriage carrying the Imperial Princess… might be a little more special than your average noble's ride.

Sure, it looked plain enough on the outside—almost deliberately so—but that was just camouflage.

Inside, it was probably packed with every defensive enchantment known to man.

Anti-ballistic barriers.

Shock absorption wards.

And—apparently—detection magic.

Fantastic.

I let out a silent groan, pressing a hand against my face as the siren continued to wail.

The only silver lining was that my stealth hadn't been broken yet—at least not completely.

But still…

"—We're under attack!"

The knights riding alongside the carriage reacted instantly.

Steel rang out as they drew their blades in unison, forming a tight perimeter.

Their cloaks whipped in the night air as they scanned the area, eyes sharp and auras flaring.

They couldn't see me—but that didn't matter.

Their instincts were deadly.

The air itself seemed to thicken with killing intent.

'Um… this isn't what I intended.'

I wanted to help, not trigger a royal alarm system.

But now, with the carriage blazing like a beacon and half the guard ready to slice anything that moved, even breathing felt dangerous.

Watching them snap instantly into combat mode, I felt a bead of cold sweat slide down my temple.

This… wasn't part of the plan.

Everything was moving too fast—too clean, too coordinated. The sudden shift in tension hit me harder than I expected, freezing me for just a heartbeat.

"Damn it! How did they know?!"

The shout came from the alley.

And then—one by one—the Red Wolf members stepped out from the shadows, abandoning their cover. Their crimson insignias glimmered faintly under the moonlight, and the air around them grew heavier, sharper.

Steel rasped as the knights surrounding the carriage raised their blades, forming a tight defensive line.

"Who are you people?" one of the knights demanded, voice steady but eyes alert.

The man at the front of the Red Wolf group—a tall, scar-faced fighter I recognized all too well—let out a dry chuckle. "We have no names to give the likes of you."

"Then you'd better start praying," the knight shot back. "You'll regret it when you find out who's riding in this carriage."

"Hahaha…" The scarred man's laugh was low and confident, rolling through the tense silence like thunder. "Oh, we already know exactly who's in that carriage."

The knight's expression hardened. "…So you targeted it on purpose."

"That's right," the man said, his smile widening into something cruel. "Hand over the Princess. Do that, and maybe—just maybe—you'll live long enough to regret it."

The lead knight shifted his stance, sword gleaming. "That's impossible."

The Red Wolf leader's grin didn't waver. "Then you'll all bleed for her."

I recognized him now—the same man who had overwhelmed Ed during the academy assault. The memory sent a chill crawling up my spine. His aura hadn't faded since then… if anything, it had grown darker.

He wasn't bluffing.

But something about their behavior didn't sit right with me.

Even surrounded by armed knights, the Red Wolf members looked completely at ease—calm, focused, almost relaxed.

'Why are they so confident?' I wondered, scanning their formation.

There were only a handful of them—certainly not enough to take on a royal escort head-on. So why did it feel like they weren't the ones trapped here?

Clearly, their skill level wasn't that high before—those low-level thugs went down with just one of my attacks.

But the ones standing before me now weren't just anyone.

The Golden Knights—guardians of the Imperial Family.

Each one of them was a monster in human form, their strength and discipline polished to perfection. Every movement they made carried the weight of experience, and the way they gripped their weapons made it obvious—they weren't here to lose.

These weren't men who hesitated.

They were all said to have the potential to become Sword Masters someday—the elite among the elite.

So then… what gave these so-called terrorists the confidence to face them head-on?

'Do they have something up their sleeve?'

That was the only explanation.

No sane man would stand in front of the Golden Knights and think he had a chance unless he was desperate—or had something terrifying backing him up.

But what?

I couldn't read their movements. They weren't preparing for a charge, and there was no sign of magic forming in the air. Yet that calmness… that eerie composure—it was wrong.

They knew something I didn't.

'Are they relying on their numbers?' I thought. 'Or… do they have someone powerful enough to turn the tide?'

Before I could decide, the leader among them raised his hand.

"Prepare that," he barked.

"Yes, sir!"

…That?

My frown deepened.

What on earth were they talking about?

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