Chapter 7: Emergency Directive [2]

Hans stared at me for a long moment, saying nothing.

Not a blink.

Not a twitch.

Just that same damn, unreadable expression, like he was peeling apart my words one syllable at a time.

The weight of silence pressed down on my shoulders.

I swallowed hard, willing myself not to fidget under his gaze.

Finally, he spoke.

“You’ll return before the end of the month,” he repeated, voice devoid of emotion. “Before the evolution period ends.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. Absolutely. I swear it on the Evans name.”

Hans’s brow twitched, just barely. I couldn’t tell if it was approval… or disgust.

“You shouldn’t use your family name so casually, Evans,” he said, voice cold and slow, like he was sculpting each word from ice. “Especially when you intend to tarnish it.”

I winced, but said nothing.

“I’ll need a written record,” he said at last, walking back to his desk. “Draft a full report of your ’mission’—where you’re going, who dispatched you, expected return date, all of it. By tonight.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“And,” he continued, pulling out a wax-sealed form from a locked drawer, “you’ll still need someone to sponsor your travel. Lady Draken’s schedule is… not something you can insert yourself into lightly. If you want to leave this estate during an evaluation period, someone with actual authority must vouch for you.”

My throat tightened again. “But I—”

“I said someone with authority,” Hans repeated, not even raising his voice. “That means a knight, a steward, or a noble currently serving in residence. Not a kitchen maid. Not a stable boy. And certainly not your imaginary aide.”

He slid the form across the desk toward me. “Get someone to sign this. Then return it to me before sunrise tomorrow. If it’s blank when it reaches my hands, this conversation never happened. Understood?”

I stared at the form. Then at him.

He was serious.

Dead serious.

“…Understood,” I said quietly, fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.

Hans gave a short, silent nod, then turned away—clearly done with me.

I backed out of the office slowly, heart pounding.

Once I was safely outside and the door clicked shut behind me, I exhaled hard.

That… could’ve gone worse.

At the very least, he hadn’t reported me yet. I still had a sliver of a chance.

But now came the hard part.

Find someone with authority.

Someone who’d sign off on a fake monster subjugation mission.

Someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions.

I clutched the sealed travel form and looked down the hallway.

“…Crap.”

There was only one person who came to mind.

And I didn’t like it one bit.

At the same time, I stared down at the sealed travel form like it was a live explosive.

Because it kind of was.

Getting someone to sign it meant risking everything. One wrong word, one misstep, and I wouldn’t just get thrown out—I’d be branded a liar, a deserter, and a disgrace to the Evans name.

But I didn’t have a choice.

Hans had made it clear: no sponsor, no travel.

I don’t know anyone else in this estate, but there was somone that comes in my mind.

He was that knight that I and other containerdor supposed to duel for position of Alice Draken attendant.

Honestly, I don’t know anything about him but it’s not like I know anyone else in this manor either.

“…Dammit,” I muttered, turning on my heel.

Time to find him.

—-

The manor was a maze of polished stone, murmuring maids, and cold torchlight that flickered across portraits of grim ancestors and forgettable nobles.

I walked quickly, head down, gripping the sealed travel form like it might vanish if I blinked too long. Every step echoed in my ears, and every turn in the corridor reminded me just how out of place I was here.

It didn’t take long before I realized something else.

I didn’t even know his name.

How do I supposed to know? That guy didn’t introduce himself earlier.

In fact, I don’t even know how his face looks like since he was covered in armour from head to toe.

But I know his eyes colour, Blood red eyes.

That was one features I remembered.

Anyway, I made my way to the east wing, near the training grounds. The place was nearly empty. Most candidate were still busy prepping for the evaluation month—polishing their swords, memorizing spell cycles, doing push-ups out of sheer panic.

I peeked into one of the side chambers and caught sight of him.

He still had his head armour on his head.

It was like that he was trying to hide his face or something.

Was there any scar on his? I don’t know and also, I don’t care.

The knight stood at the far end of the training hall, a heavy broadsword resting against his shoulder, his form completely encased in matte black armor. Just like before.

Even now, with the torchlight dancing across the walls, his blood-red eyes glowed faintly behind the slits of his helmet—unblinking, unreadable, and eerily calm.

He was alone.

No other candidates.

No instructors.

Just him.

As if the entire manor had cleared a path so I could walk straight into the jaws of my own mistake.

I stepped inside.

Tap—! Tap—!Tap—!

The echo of my footfalls made him glance in my direction. Not turn. Not move. Just tilt his head slightly—acknowledging me.

The stare behind that visor was cold and steady.

“…You,” I said, more breath than voice.

Not the best way to open a conversation.

He didn’t answer.

I raised the travel form slightly, holding it like a shield between us.

“I… need a favor.”

Still nothing.

Not a word. Not even a grunt.

Was he always like this?

I cleared my throat. “I am Julies Evans. I’m one of candidates for the Lady Alice Draken attendant position. You might have seen me this morning?”

A slow nod.

Okay. Progress.

“Right, well—look, I know we’re not exactly friends, or even acquaintances, but I’ve got a situation. A serious one. And you might be the only person who can help me.”

Another pause.

Then he lowered the broadsword—just a little—and finally spoke.

His voice was low, gravelly, with a strange calm beneath the surface.

“…What kind of help?”

…And also I couldn’t help but notice, his voice wasn’t like man.

It strangely resembles of the woman voice. But I shouldn’t say anything. Everyone has their own problems.

In fact, few man’s have fenimen parts ,So, I wasn’t that surprised.

Anyway, No point sugarcoating it.

“I need you to sponsor a travel request.”

A longer pause this time.

I could practically hear his mind clicking through the implications.

“You want to leave the estate,” he said flatly.

“Just for a few days,” I added quickly. “To oversee a… situation near my family’s territory. It’s a small matter. Routine.”

“That doesn’t sound routine.”

“It’s political,” I lied with confidence I didn’t feel. “You know how nobles are. Everything’s political.”

Obviously, he didn’t believe my words.

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