Sheila’s shoulders tensed at the sound of the title, her once-relaxed stance shifting into a more rigid, formal posture. Ariana noticed instantly, glancing at her with concern as the air around them grew heavier.

“I wasn’t expecting an escort,” Sheila said calmly, though there was a guarded edge in her voice. “Especially not one with this much… flair.”

Berg Thuden let out a laugh that sounded like a teapot about to boil over. “Flair? My dear Princess, surely you don’t expect the Crescent Kingdom to treat your well-being with anything less than utmost priority. The king and queen insisted on it.”

“And I insisted I could manage the trip home on my own the last time I visited,” Sheila replied, folding her arms across her chest. “This feels a bit excessive for what should’ve been a simple return.”

Eliv’s gaze shifted briefly toward Ariana before returning to Sheila. “Your parents’ concerns go far beyond comfort and routine. There are changes—shifts happening across the continent. You, Princess, must be secured.”

Ariana stepped a bit closer to Sheila, her voice small and uncertain. “Ex… excuse me. Does this have anything to do with the lockdown?”

Eliv tilted his head slightly, as though examining a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. “I wish I could provide intel on that… but time is not on our side. Besides, you’re just a child.”

With that, he dismissed Ariana with a cold turn of his shoulder, focusing his attention solely on Sheila once more. “Princess, we must leave immediately.”

Sheila’s eyes narrowed, not at his words, but at his tone—his complete disregard toward Ariana. It wasn’t overtly cruel, but it didn’t sit right.

“Mage Borges,” she said firmly, “I demand to know what’s really going on.”

Berg stepped forward, his tone trying for gentleness. “Princess, please. You must comply. All will be explained once we arrive in Celestria.”

Sheila opened her mouth to protest again, but Ariana gently touched her arm, stopping her.

“Sheila… I get it, I do,” Ariana whispered. “But if this really is for your safety… maybe you should go. Just this once.”

Sheila whispered back, frustration flashing in her eyes. “But the last time I was home, they told me I could make the trip alone. Why go back on that now?”

“Because this isn’t just about returning from school anymore,” Eliv said, his voice calm but carrying a weight behind it. “This is a matter of life and death, Princess. And right now, it’s your life that hangs in the balance.”

Sheila paused, eyes locked on Eliv as his words settled like stone in her chest.

“Life or death?” she repeated, almost in disbelief.

“Yes,” Eliv confirmed, folding his hands behind his back. “And we must leave now.”

“But how?” she asked.

Before Eliv could respond, Berg clapped his hands once, sharp and impatient. “Princess, I understand how emotional and overwhelmed you may feel, but every second you hesitate puts your dear friend in further danger. Please, gather your things. We’ll leave through a portal.”

“There’s no time for packing,” Eliv said coolly. “It’s best we depart at once.”

Sheila looked as if she might argue again, but Ariana gently tugged at her sleeve. Their eyes met, and the emotion between them passed unspoken. Sheila took a deep breath, her gaze shifting between the mages and her friend before she finally gave a small nod.

“Fine,” she said. “But when we get home… I expect real answers. No more cryptic warnings.”

“Of course,” Eliv replied smoothly, his voice as soft as silk, but no more transparent than before.

Sheila turned to Ariana, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “Guess this is where we split paths for now.”

Ariana gave her a soft, sad smile in return. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’m Crescent royalty,” Sheila said with a playful wink. “But I’m still me.”

The two girls embraced, a quiet hug filled with unspoken promises and trust.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ariana whispered.

“You better,” Sheila murmured back.

As she stepped away from Ariana, she turned to face the portal forming behind the Crescent knights, now swirling with bright blue light as Eliv prepared the spell.

But just as they were about to step through, a familiar voice rang out, loud and theatrical.

“Heeyyyy, don’t tell me you’re leaving without a goodbye?”

The group froze, turning toward the sound. Walking casually toward them, with a box of cream puffs in one hand and mischief in his tone, was none other than Magnus.

“That’s not very ‘bestie’ of you, Sheila. I’m wounded. Truly,” he said in a mock sob, pretending to clutch his chest.

Sheila turned, eyes widening slightly. “Sir Magnus?”

The knights immediately tensed, stepping in front of the princess defensively as Berg narrowed his eyes. “And who, exactly, are you?”

“Oh, me?” Magnus said, looking around innocently. “I’m no one. Just the cook, the cleaner, the errand guy, and of course—Sheila’s best friend for the past glorious week.” He popped the last cream puff into his mouth, speaking around it. “You can call me Wilfred.”

Berg’s expression darkened, clearly unimpressed by Magnus’s casual attitude. He gave a subtle hand gesture to the knights at his sides, signaling them to step forward. Metal clanked as the guards began to move, their hands instinctively drifting toward their hilts.

But before anyone could take a second step, Eliv raised his hand and spoke, his tone laced with mild disappointment.

“Stand down, all of you. Are your eyes so blind you’d willingly charge into your own demise without knowing it?”

The guards froze mid-step. Even Berg turned, frowning. “What are you rambling about, old man? That man is clearly suspicious.”

“Finally!” Magnus said, grinning like a child who just got a gold star. “Someone admits I’ve got mysterious vibes. Took you long enough.”

Ariana leaned closer, whispering up to him, “Umm… I think he said ‘suspicious,’ Sir Magnus.”

Magnus tilted his head with mock seriousness. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No,” Ariana sighed, half-laughing. “They’re not.”

Eliv exhaled slowly. “That ‘suspicious man’ is Magnus Yaer of the Tempest Kingdom. The Second Blade. One of the kingdom’s deadliest weapons. I’d advise you think very carefully before provoking someone you clearly know nothing about.”

The color drained from Berg’s face, and even the knights shifted uncomfortably. Eliv turned to Magnus with a respectful nod. “Sir Yaer, please accept our apologies for the misunderstanding.”

“Huh?” Magnus scratched the back of his head, looking thoroughly unbothered. “No harm done, really. You make it sound like they spit in my food or something. Besides, I’m a huge fan of yours, Mage Borges. Like, huge. I’ve read some of your war logs and your mana circle theory—pure magic. Pun intended.”

He reached out and enthusiastically shook Eliv’s hand, bouncing slightly like a fanboy meeting his favorite band member.

“…Thank you, Sir Yaer,” Eliv said, clearly confused but trying to stay polite.

Then Magnus turned to Berg, grabbing his hand with both of his and shaking it with comically exaggerated enthusiasm. “And you, sir. The man. The legend. The myth himself!”

Berg’s posture straightened slightly, puffing up with pride at the unexpected flattery. But Magnus leaned in, his voice dropping into a too-loud whisper that echoed between them.

“Remind me again who you are? I don’t have any tales of your greatness in my head yet. C’mon, help me out. Give me a cool story.”

Berg’s eye twitched, the pride draining from his face as fast as it had filled it. “How dare you—”

Magnus blinked, then tilted his head in mock concern. “Wait… no stories? None? Damn. You one of those retired heroes or just one of those… y’know… pregnant men.”

Berg froze, mouth hanging open in stunned outrage.

Magnus gave him a thumbs up with the most innocent smile imaginable. “Either way, it’s an honor to meet you, Pig Master. Seriously. So round, so mysterious.”

Even Eliv looked like he was suppressing a laugh.

“Sir Yaer,” he cleared his throat, “perhaps we should—”

“Oh right! The portal, duh,” Magnus said brightly, turning to Sheila. “You know, I’m really gonna miss you, Princess. But hey, if your royal babysitters don’t feed you well, just scream into the wind. I’ll show up with snacks.”

Sheila gave him a look between disbelief and amusement. “You’re insane.”

“I like to think of it as ‘creatively blessed,'” Magnus said, bowing dramatically. “Safe travels, Your Highness.”

He stepped back, hands folded behind his head, watching as Eliv moved to reopen the portal.

Sheila turned to Ariana one last time, her voice soft. “You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ariana said with a small nod. “Just… don’t keep us waiting too long.”

Sheila smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that, she stepped forward, flanked by the two knights and followed closely by Berg and Eliv. The portal shimmered into full form—a glowing oval of swirling blue light—and, with one last glance back, Princess Sheila stepped through.

The portal closed behind them with a low hum, leaving Ariana and Magnus alone in the now-empty courtyard.

“…So,” Magnus said, turning to Ariana, “Got anything I coukd eat? Like some cream puffs which no one to judge me for eating them with jam and hot sauce.”

Ariana blinked. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. And guess what? It’s better than you think.”

Just as Ariana opened her mouth to reply, a fresh portal tore open behind them with a low ripple of energy. Out stepped Mystica, her dark hair trailing behind her like a shadow and her expression sharp with urgency. Her eyes scanned the courtyard the moment her feet touched the ground.

“Yo, Moony!” Magnus chirped, raising a hand in greeting. “Didn’t think we’d see you again this soon. You stalking us or something?”

Mystica didn’t respond to the joke. Her gaze swept over them with purpose. “Where is Sheila?” she asked, her voice tight with worry.

“Oh… yeah, about that,” Magnus said, scratching his head. “You just missed her. She left with some Crescent Knights. Eliv Borges was there… and some really round dude who looked like he was nine months pregnant with secrets.”

“Berg Thuden?” Mystica muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, that’s him! Kinda looked like a waddling meatball with a mustache,” Magnus said casually. “Why? Is there an issue?”

Mystica’s voice dropped, suddenly cold and serious. “Unfortunately… yes.”

“One of those two—Eliv or Berg—is a hybrid.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep