Anfield.

  10:01 PM.

  “You should’ve told me Lamar was the one who knew about us… Do you know how pale I went when he figured out who I was?”

  Dan sat cross-legged, arms folded, his eyes glaring at Casca from the floor, head shaking side to side.

  His fiancée, unfazed, lounged on the bed, casually flipping through a notebook outlining plans to rebrand their country.

  “Lamar’s not a blabbermouth, relax,” she said.

  “I don’t know him as well as you do!”

  “Come on~ I’m right here, aren’t I? We’re good, yeah?”

  “…These past ten years must’ve been peaceful, huh?”

  “Speaking of, what’s the deal with the Shadows? I heard there’s going to be a negotiation. Who’s your side sending?”

  “Good news for you. Everton’s coming.”

  “Shouldn’t it be Fiorentina?”

  “My father probably wants to see what angles he can exploit for our side’s benefit. This isn’t charity work.”

  “So sending Everton was the Emperor’s idea, or is Fiorentina just that confident?”

  “Either way, they’re sending Everton in a gift-wrapped box for us to slaughter.”

  “Nice. I’ll snap his neck myself.”

  “I’ll stomp him into the ground too.”

  “And I’ll present Prince Everton with a fine, fat fish!”

  Dan/Casca: “Nobody asked you!”

  “What?! Why’re you treating me like an outsider?!”

  Zeedee poked her head out from under the blanket she shared with Casca (they’d drawn lots to share the bed) and started wailing dramatically.

  “Your Majesty! Ever since this wench showed up, she’s been stealing my spotlight!”

  “Don’t. Get. In my face.”

  Casca held up a hand, signaling Zeedee to back off.

  “Stay away.”

  “What? Got a problem?”

  “You reek of rot.”

  “You’re the one whining, you giant ape!”

  “What did you say, you—?!”

  The blanket twisted and flailed as Zeedee and Casca went at it again, smacking each other with pillows.

  Dan leaned back against the wall.

  “Even Lamar couldn’t track them… That’s what they’re good at. Hiding in the rocks like filthy roaches… Even if they escape to the bottom of the ocean, I’ll hunt them down and kill them.”

  The young man’s red eyes stared at the ceiling, gazing into empty air.

  “I have to go… to the Five Kingdoms Summit.”

  Casca and Zeedee slowly stopped fighting, still tangled on the bed.

  “Your first appearance in ten years? Where else would you get that chance?”

  “Nora’s generation only knows me from picture books. It’s a good opportunity to show myself, reduce the mystery. Maybe tone down the weird propaganda Luminus wrote about me.”

  Casca glanced at Fury’s pile of keepsakes… a newspaper about the Salawan Plains sat on top.

  Her eyes flickered with guilt and unease.

  Dan’s gaze dropped.

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  “So, what’s your real issue? What’s this business you need to settle with the religious order? I think it’s time you explained.”

  Casca rolled off Zeedee, lying flat with her neck draped over the bed’s edge.

  “It’s hard to explain… but…”

  And so she began.

  Ten years ago.

  After the Five Kingdoms War ended, a peace treaty was signed, and the Diablo Kingdom withdrew across the ocean. The land entered a period of restoration.

  Casca Saint-Maximin returned home as a proud hero of Luminus, awarded a royal decoration before millions and applauded by fellow generals. The highest honor came when the Pope himself bestowed upon her the “Iron Cross.”

  If her brother were still alive, if her father were still here, they’d have been overjoyed beyond words. This was the pinnacle every Luminus citizen dreamed of. Casca Saint-Maximin had achieved it. Her mother, her only remaining family, wept with pride. Casca herself was no less moved.

  Thanks to her valor, Casca’s social status soared, propelled by the faith Luminus soldiers placed in her.

  And so… Casca was fully inducted into Luminus’s ruling elite.

  This was a world she’d never experienced.

  Becoming an elite opened her eyes. It gave her a taste of true “power” and a broader view of politics.

  Life as an elite was entirely different from her days as a five-bar knight. What shocked her most was the realization that her twenty years serving Luminus’s army…

  She had been nothing but a “sword” for these people.

  Her cherished title of “five-bar knight” was a mere illusion, manipulated by the elites behind the scenes.

  The Pope, a figure meant to dedicate his life to the CIS faith, held absolute power over Luminus’s king.

  The religious order controlled the military and the capital’s entire economy.

  Led by the Pope, the order could appoint or dismiss nobles at will and dictated policies the king had to follow.

  That day… Casca’s eyes were opened.

  She saw who truly held power in the country.

  She returned to the scriptures. Though she’d read them thousands of times, memorizing every word, she found nothing… nothing stating the Pope was meant to have such authority.

  And worse…

  Casca traveled to other continents and discovered that the CIS scriptures she revered existed in five other purified versions.

  As she studied further…

  She arrived at Mathema, a land of free knowledge where nothing was banned.

  There, Casca’s eyes were fully opened.

  The oldest CIS scripture, written just ten years after the Prophet’s death 2,000 years ago, contained no mention of a “Pope.”

  Not even the concept of a “Pope” existed.

  This truth from the outside world shattered Casca’s entire reality.

  What was the CIS faith she’d devoted her life to?

  Casca turned back to Luminus.

  With her eyes opened, understanding the faith deeply, with the mask torn off…

  She saw her homeland for what it was: a rotting core hidden beneath a religious facade.

  The “friends” among the elite, her secret society comrades, were all enemies of the Prophet’s true intent.

  Casca didn’t abandon her faith in God or CIS…

  On the contrary.

  Her faith in God grew stronger.

  She realized the CIS she’d followed wasn’t the true CIS, but a fabricated version.

  She vowed to spread the “true” CIS—the original, untainted teachings.

  Many who joined the elite closed one eye and embraced the power, living comfortably.

  But Casca chose differently.

  She chose to bring the original CIS scriptures back to her people.

  She chose to expose the Pope and make the public question whether this version of CIS aligned with God’s original intent.

  Of course, with the hot-blooded zeal of youth…

  Her actions shook the old powers… The Pope.

  When you play with darkness, darkness swallows you.

  Even a hero like Casca wasn’t spared.

  Soon after exposing this to Luminus’s people…

  Casca was stripped of her elite status.

  She was charged with “tax” violations.

  Her royal lands were seized due to her legal troubles.

  Her assets were frozen, unusable.

  She was hauled into a “closed” court.

  They couldn’t arrest her with force, true.

  But they used a subtler weapon against her: the law.

  Laws they themselves had written.

  Casca was sued, accused of excessive killing during the war. Every dark deed from the war was dug up to destroy her.

  At first, she fought back. She transferred her gold, silver, and valuables to Mathema’s banks for safety.

  Even so, her royal lands in Luminus were still seized.

  When she looked to her mother, her only family…

  Casca had to retreat.

  “A dumb villain kills you with force. A smart one kills you with the law.”

  Surrounded by darkness, Casca’s light dimmed until she had no choice but to “flee” Luminus.

  She was fortunate to have trusted allies who helped her and her mother escape to Velmount, a place beyond Luminus’s influence. This enraged the Pope, who swore never to forgive her.

  Even so…

  Casca couldn’t stay in Velmount.

  For one reason.

  “Face.”

  Again and again, it came back to this.

  For Luminus people, “face” was more important than life.

  A legendary hero like Casca, hiding in a foreign land?

  Exiled?

  Betrayed?

  Fallen from grace?

  Living anywhere but the proud land of Luminus, where she’d once boasted in the army that her nation was the greatest, would be an unbearable “loss of face.”

  She told others she was just on vacation.

  But hopping between places, she realized she couldn’t keep this up.

  Then she thought of one place…

  A place beyond anyone’s influence.

  A place where she could preserve her “face” from neighboring countries.

  A place where she could be alone and reflect…

  Across the sea. In Diablo.

  “It hit me after stressing out for two or three days… It was crazy, but when I thought of that day I met you… I saw we had something in common. I thought there might be a chance.”

  Finally, Casca laid bare her story to Fury—her reasons, her conflicts, her current situation.

  It was all gray. Selfishness from the leaders… and even from Casca herself.

  “In my eighth year away… I got word through a carrier pigeon that the old Pope died. A new one took his place, and tensions eased a lot. Most importantly, the seeds I planted started sprouting. The younger generation in Luminus is losing faith in the religious order. They’re turning to the true CIS. That’s why I came back.”

  “And why meet the Pope?”

  “Because I still hope the new Pope can be reasoned with. If we can open that first door, it’ll pave the way for us both to step into the light.”

  “Sounds like one hell of a challenge.”

  “Everything has to start somewhere.”

  Casca turned to Zeedee, spreading her hands with a smirking shrug.

  “Maybe I’ll set an example for cross-species marriage between humans and Diablo.”

  “Good. Then I’ll take this human.”

  “That’s my husband, you bitch.”