The day had arrived—the day to tear up the contract, the day Prince Fury would be free.
Casca Saint-Maximin sat in the Knight Department’s lounge, dressed in a full black suit, gazing around, soaking in the nostalgia of her student days.
“Back when I was a student, I could only pass by, watching the adults sit where we’re sitting now…”
Who was she talking to?
Dan, in full student uniform, seated beside her.
Casca’s visit was a closely guarded Institute secret. She’d been ushered through a hidden entrance to avoid a student frenzy. Frankly, her status was practically celebrity-level now.
The contract termination was moving fast, and Casca wanted to seal the deal before word spread further.
While Dan fretted over what awaited him on Friday, Casca noticed his distraction.
“What’s wrong? You seem out of it.”
“Wanna know?”
“Enlighten me.”
“…Friday at the Garden, I’m dead.”
“Why?”
“My opponent’s Rafinya.”
“The youngest Pauli kid, right?”
“You know her?”
“I know her father. The Paulis are a big deal—old aristocracy, a legacy stretching back generations. For someone like me, with just a ‘Saint’ in my name, it’s nothing compared to their history.”
“Who cares about history?”
“The Paulis are swordsmen, every generation. They’re so proud of their Duelist ways they’ve developed exclusive family magic.”
“Red magic, right?”
“Yep.”
Red Velvet red, to be exact.
“Can it match your gold?”
“No comparison. They’re Duelists; I’m a Knight.”
“Beat ‘em to a pulp, I don’t care.”
“That’s just how Saint Paulis are, every one of them.”
“That attitude?”
“I kinda pity them… Every kid with ‘Saint Pauli’ tagged on is born under pressure, compared from the cradle. No wonder they claw their way up, fighting each other to impress their dad.”
Just then, the lounge door opened.
Two people entered: the Knight Department Dean and Professor Foden.
“Greetings, Mrs. Casca. It’s an honor.”
Casca extended her hand. He kissed the back of it. She then formally shook hands with Professor Foden.
Both sides sat, and negotiations began.
Throughout the talks with the Dean, Professor Foden kept glancing at Dan, eyes probing. What had she missed? Why did Casca want this kid so badly?
What did Casca see in him?
Even asking Casca directly got no answers, just a push to finalize the contract—plainly, “I’m not telling you.”
In the business world, Foden might’ve stalled, invoked multiple-sponsor rights to split funding with Casca. But two reasons stopped her:
- Casca’s credibility.
- Her heroic reputation.
“The buyout’s higher than expected, isn’t it, Dean?”
Casca teased, half-joking, half-testing his reaction. Even a hero got price-gouged—impressive.
Not that she couldn’t pay.
Casca signed, passed the pen to Dan for his signature, then a servant brought wax. Both pressed their thumbs to seal it.
“As of now, student Dan Burn is officially transferred from the Knight Department to Mrs. Casca Saint-Maximin’s sponsorship.”
The gray-bearded Dean smiled, shaking Casca’s hand, then Dan’s. Professor Foden followed, shaking both.
“Don’t disgrace the knights, student.”
“…Yes, ma’am.”
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“Now, kid, you’re with me.”
“Ow?!”
Casca ruffled Dan’s hair, messing it up, then slapped his back with a whack!—nearly making him cough blood.
Yes… no more early mornings…
“Thank you all so much.”
After the contract was finalized, Dan was free from the Knight Department’s grueling training.
As he left the lounge with Casca, he saw two seniors waiting.
Senior Aaron and Senior Chiesa.
“Congrats, Dan—”
Chiesa extended a hand in polite congratulations, but—
“!”
Dan ignored him completely, walking straight to Aaron, shaking his hand without glancing at Chiesa.
“Thanks for everything, Senior Aaron.”
“Dan… you…”
“I won’t forget, Senior Aaron.”
“Well… good luck. Don’t let Mrs. Casca down.”
Casca, watching, seemed to piece it together. She stepped between Dan and Aaron, leaving Chiesa to watch.
“You’re Aaron, right?”
“Mrs. Casca!”
She clasped his hands, her body language screaming “Thank you” for looking after her husband.
“Be a good knight. Keep training hard, and your body won’t betray you. I guarantee it.”
“M-Mrs. Casca!”
She nodded, patted his shoulder, then gave Chiesa a curt nod.
“I’m off.”
“Thanks for teaching me, Senior.”
Dan said his polite farewells and followed Casca out of the Institute to a waiting carriage.
Chiesa stood frozen, turning to Aaron.
“What? Something on my face, Chiesa?”
Carriage
“Did you have to mess up my hair?”
“Otherwise, it’s not convincing.”
“They’ll think I’m your kid.”
“Our skin’s different colors—how could they?”
“Trust me, people think it.”
Dan adjusted his uniform.
He and Casca locked eyes during a conversational lull… then she lunged, pulling him into a hug.
“Finally, we’re together.”
“Gotta be this excited?”
“You’re free from that hell camp.”
“Calling the place that shaped you hell?”
“Hell for you, sweetie.”
Dan’s face sank into her chest, looking up to meet her eyes.
“Hey… Casca, you free this Saturday?”
“Why?”
“…I was thinking…”
“Thinking?”
“I wanna take you shopping for something pretty.”
Dan spoke, avoiding her gaze, but Casca stared, eyes practically popping.
“What’d you say…?”
“I know what I did wrong… I shouldn’t have bought pretty things for any woman but you.”
“!”
“I want to make it up to you… just us two.”
“…Fury.”
A tender moment swelled, romantic music swelling in the background, until—
“Where’s the money for that? Heard you’ve got 150 million in debt.”
“Hey, keep accounts separate! You’re ruining the mood!”
“You went to the city with Skank, and now you wanna take me there?”
“…Yeah…”
“No way. What’s special about that?”
“Fair point… But I don’t know anywhere else. Wanna date at Salavan fields? Relive old times?”
“I appreciate the effort, but forgot what you’re facing tomorrow?”
Dan sighed heavily.
“…I’m getting pummeled in the arena anyway. Take a couple hits, lie down, let the ref stop it.”
“You think that kid won’t see through that?”
“She can’t do anything if she does.”
“Oh, no, no… You’ve never faced a real Duelist. They won’t let you lie down if they don’t want you to.”
“What? They’ll combo me mid-air until they’re satisfied?”
“Exactly.”
“!”
“No way that’s happening to my man.”
Casca’s tone hardened.
“Who’re you with? Me, Casca Saint-Maximin, legendary hero. Think I’d let my kid get humiliated? Dream on.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Guess where this carriage is headed?”
“!”
Dan’s eyes widened, pulling back from her chest.
“No way…”
“Yup. I’ve planned for this. Tomorrow’s your day. Heh heh, hahaha!”
“Casca… you’re all about saving face.”
“Obviously.”
She crossed her arms.
“As for the date… I’m thrilled you asked, but I’ve got plans to take you out. I’m the host here. You picking the place? That’s a blow to my pride.”
She pulled the boy back into a hug.
“You’ve led me enough in Diablo. Now I’ll lead you.”
“Fine by me… just don’t tell Freya.”
“Wow, you thought of that? Impressive.”
“Harsh…”
Nightfall
Though the cold had students bundling up in cloaks, for Nora, a thin black jacket was enough to shield her from the chill.
This was serious cold, but by Snowhaven standards, just “cool.”
Setting that aside, Princess Nora left her chambers, passing servants.
“Your Highness… I know it’s your routine, but in this weather, can’t we skip going outside?”
“This weather can’t touch us.”
The maids watched her go, resuming their work.
But someone else watched Nora, not returning to tasks—not a maid, but… Rafinya.
From behind a Roman pillar, she saw Nora step outside to breathe the night air.
Nora walked far… too far from the dorms. Rafinya had noticed her pacing routine before, but tonight, Nora moved with purpose, heading somewhere specific.
Her suspicions were confirmed. From a leisurely stroll, Nora’s pace quickened… then turned into a run.
Rafinya knew this wasn’t routine.
Nora sprinted, her Snowhaven warrior physique blazing, but Rafinya, cloaked in Red Velvet aura, kept pace undetected.
Then she saw…
Nora darted into Anfield.
And that’s where Rafinya lost her.
She’d never set foot in a desolate, uninteresting place like Anfield, leaving her without a mental map. Stepping into this forest environment, her first instinct was to stop—pushing forward risked getting lost, and that wasn’t smart.
“!”
What was Nora doing here at night?
Nora zigzagged through familiar paths with incredible speed, able to navigate blindfolded from frequent visits.
Thud.
She stopped, arriving at her summons. In her hand, a note delivered by a pigeon to her window, the reason she came: a message from Dan.
Nora, I need your ice urgently.
Knock, knock, knock.
The girl rapped on the door, clasping her hands, waiting. The peephole slid, and the door opened. Dan appeared first.
“Thanks for coming. I wouldn’t bother you unless it was urgent.”
“When Mr. Fury calls, I come.”
Dan led her to a table in the house.
“What level of ice do you need, Mr. Fury?”
“What level won’t melt for two days?”
“Level 5.”
“I need you to cool this thing.”
Dan produced a small potion bottle, the size of a nail polish vial, corked, containing a deep red liquid.
“Preserve this potion’s shelf life?”
“Can you?”
“Of course, Mr. Fury.”
Nora touched the bottle’s base. The liquid felt warm. With ease, Level 5 ice formed from condensed air vapor, encasing the potion in a crystalline shell.
“Done, Mr. Fury.”
“Thanks… I called you now to be safe. We’ll probably meet again tomorrow in the arena.”
“Can I ask what this potion is?”
“Not a potion, but just as magical.”
“Not a potion?”
((Ouch!! Get out, you nuisance!!))
((You’re the nuisance!! Did you shower or train for the Olympics?! The floor’s soaked!!))
((Water feels better!))
((Filthy wretch!!))
Nora glanced toward the bathroom, then back at Dan.
“…Pretend it’s nothing, Nora.”
“Mr. Fury… why are Mrs. Casca and Freya in the bathroom together?”
“Wanna know?”
“Try me.”
“The bathroom’s one-person only. If one goes in, the other two wait outside. Neither wants to leave me alone with the other… so they both went in. If they can’t do simple things without fuss, they can crowd in there.”
“Do they have to guard you that closely?”
((Get your flabby meat off me!!))
((You’re the old hag! Get your saggy skin away, or I’ll kick your guts out!!))
((Who’s old, huh?! Cheap squid!!))
Crashing sounds.
“Let them do what makes them happy. I never win.”
“You’re quite the catch.”
“With a side of migraines. Worth it?”
“Fair point.”