"G-good... I'm glad you understand," she said, her cheeks flushing red.
I have no idea what she's talking about, but anyway, Fatty Wang. I believe that meeting him will clear up some of my doubts.
They continued walking until they neared their final destination.
Hm, is it just my imagination, or is there always someone accompanying me? I didn't even mention the assassination attempt in the hot springs, specifically to avoid a bodyguard who would double as a spy for the Queen. And complicate my escape plan, does she know?
Ah, that must be what she wanted to forget, the situation that followed between us. Well, if she hasn't brought the assassination attempt up, it must be a coincidence...
"We're here," Sharon said, pulling open the forge door, hinges shrieking against the heat.
Inside, the roar hit first. Wave after wave of hammering crashed through the air, the smell of scorched iron thick enough to taste. Crow stepped in behind Sharon, who carried a scroll pressed with the royal seal.
Ahead, an elven blacksmith worked the anvil, her rhythm unbroken even as she glanced up. A smile curved her lips, polite, practiced, and about two degrees too thin.
"Finally. Palace envoys." She set down her hammer and swept an arm toward the walls. Blades of every size lined the racks in neat, gleaming rows. "Take whatever catches your eye. But do me a favor, tell the queen things aren't looking good. Materials keep drying up. Hard to hit quotas when the supply chain bleeds out."
Sharon stepped forward and laid the royal scroll on the anvil's edge.
"Two blades. Payment in tax exemption, one hundred and twenty percent of item value until the debt clears."
The elven smith unrolled the scroll, scanned it, and rolled it back.
"Fair enough. Normal swords on the left. Heavier-grade material to the right."
Crow turned right without breaking stride.
If I'm picking equipment, might as well pick something that actually works with my current physical strength.
Zweihänder. Claymore.
Now, things are going to get interesting.
He lifted both, testing the weight. Satisfied, he turned back.
"I'll take these."
Behind him, Sharon finished signing off with the smith, the scratch of quill on parchment cutting briefly through the hammer-noise. Then they stepped back out into the street.
Alright. Weapons, finally something other than my fists. Armor? Honestly, armor would just slow me down, speed is everything here. The clothes from the palace hold up fine for now.
Crow glanced sideways at the coliseum looming a few streets over, its stone bulk casting a long shadow across the road.
"Sharon." He kept his voice casual. "That coliseum, this Fatty Wang guy. I keep thinking some of the answers I need, to handle what the queen's asking of me, might come through talking to him directly. Any chance of arranging that?"
Sharon glanced at him as they approached a royal carriage waiting along the curb.
"It's possible," she said, stepping up and settling inside. "But the queen left clear orders, once you finish the test, I escort you straight back to the palace. There's still the rest of the process to get through."
Crow climbed in after her.
'Escorting?' So I wasn't mistaken when I thought that someone was indeed always accompanying me...
"Right, Makes sense," he said.
He watched the city scroll past the carriage window.
Escaping this place would be harder than I'd figured. He studied the rooftops, the guard rotations between market stalls, the way the streets funneled traffic toward checkpoints.
He also saw small troop detachments organizing and marching in the opposite direction, toward the kingdom's frontier.
This kingdom doesn't have much time left. The war against the Hero's Kingdom won't stay on the frontier much longer. It never does. Because war... war is always the same, everywhere.
Sharon stood up and sat on the bench beside him, closer than the wide carriage really required. Her thigh brushed his as the vehicle swayed over the cobblestones, and she made no move to shift away.
Crow let the silence hang for a moment, then tilted his head toward her. "Plenty of room on your side. Why crowd in here?"
She smiled, a small, genuine thing that reached her eyes. Instead of answering, she leaned in slowly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing his jawline.
Her shoulder settled against his arm, the faint warmth of her body cutting through the cool carriage air. Then, her voice came out soft, an almost playful whisper, right against his ear.
"I know."
W-what? Know what??? This is bad...
Crow didn't pull back. He turned his face just enough so their profiles were almost aligned, close enough to feel her breath on his cheek. His tone stayed even, quiet. "Know what?"
The guards outside the carriage looked, but averted their eyes.
Sharon's lips curved again, warmer this time. She stayed near, speaking low, like she was sharing a secret only the two of them were allowed to hear.
"That you're hiding something." She paused, letting the words settle. "You're always thinking three steps ahead, aren't you? Watching everything. Everyone. Including me."
Her fingers rested lightly on the cushion between them—not touching his hand, but near enough that the possibility existed. There was no accusation in her voice, only a gentle curiosity, maybe even a trace of fondness.
Crow studied her face in the dim light filtering through the curtains. No hardness there. No trap waiting to spring. Just… interest. The same interest that had made her cheeks flush earlier, back at the hot springs.
Too suspicious...
He exhaled slowly through his nose. "And if I am hiding something… does that bother you?"
She pulled back a fraction—just enough to look him in the eye properly. Her gaze was steady, soft around the edges.
"Not really." Her voice dropped even lower, almost a murmur. "I like people who keep a few cards close. Makes things… interesting."
What? Where is the shy vampire from before? Something is wrong here, I can feel it.
She lingered there a second longer, close enough that he caught the subtle scent of jasmine again, mixed with the faint metallic trace from the forge still clinging to her clothes. Then she eased back to her side of the seat, crossing her legs with casual grace.
"But the queen's orders don't leave much room for secrets," she added, tone light but pointed. "She wants you back at the palace. Intact. And… cooperative. The rest we can figure out when we get there."
Crow leaned against the cushion, arms folded, eyes drifting to the window as the coliseum's shadow slid past once more. His mind turned the exchange over carefully.
She knows I'm holding back. But she isn't pushing. Not yet. And she doesn't seem to mind.
The carriage rattled on toward the palace, the city noise fading into a low hum. Moments later, it jolted to a halt at the main gates, the iron bars creaking open with a mechanical groan.
Sharon stepped down first, smoothing her maid uniform with a quick, efficient motion. She turned back to him, offering a hand that he ignored as he climbed out on his own. The new blades, Zweihänder on his back, and Claymore at his side, hung heavy, a reassuring weight.
"This way," she said, gesturing toward the grand entrance. They walked in silence through the courtyard, the late afternoon sun... missing, as always.
Crow noted the increased patrols: more guards than he'd seen that morning, armor polished to a gleam, hands resting on hilts. The war's shadow was creeping inward, just like the frontier detachments he'd spotted earlier.
At the massive oak doors leading into the main hall, Sharon paused. She glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot, then met his eyes with that same soft, curious gaze from the carriage.
"The queen's waiting for you in the library," she murmured, keeping her voice low. "She mentioned she'd spend the rest of the afternoon there, running some experiments. Nothing too strenuous, but she wants to see you right away, about the test, I assume."
Crow arched an eyebrow.
Experiments? In a library? That didn't fit her at all. In the game, she barely even stepped foot in the library, let alone ran experiments there. This doesn't make sense.
He filed it away, another piece in the puzzle of this kingdom's desperation.
"Got it," he replied, casual but probing. "And you? Not coming along for the escort?"
A slip of the tongue. She got me.
Sharon shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips, not flirtatious this time, but almost reluctant. "I have duties elsewhere. Reports to file, errands for the court. But… be careful in there. The queen's experiments can be unpredictable."
She lingered for a beat, her hand brushing his arm lightly, accidental, or not?
Why that look of pity?
Then she turned, heading down a side corridor toward what looked like the administrative wings. Crow watched her go, her footsteps echoing softly until she vanished around a corner.
Alone now, or as alone as one could be in a palace crawling with eyes. He adjusted the Claymore at his belt and the Zweihänder at his back, feeling their balance again. No immediate threats, but the air felt thicker here, charged with unspoken secrets.
I can feel the aura. I don't have another choice, but these experiments... I don't need to see them to know. It's something bad. Very bad.
He pushed through the doors, navigating the familiar halls from memory. The library loomed at the end of a long, tapestry-lined corridor, its double doors slightly ajar.
Yeah, this room is replete with mana.
Crow paused at the threshold, hands in his pockets. No guards posted here, odd for a royal.
True. She doesn't need it.
He stepped inside, the room unfolding before him: towering shelves crammed not with books, but with pulsing mana-crystals and intricate silver artifacts. Tables were cluttered with metallic components, humming gears, and ancient parchments glowing with faint runes.
In the center, the queen stood over a heavy workbench. She wore a simple white blouse, the fabric thin and practical, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was focused, stirring a swirling, neon-blue fluid in a glowing beaker that cast long, dancing shadows across her face.
She lifted her head as he entered, her expression sharpening into focus without truly looking at him. "Ah, Crow. Right on time. Come, we have work to do."
He approached warily, mind already racing through possibilities. Experiments. The test. And Fatty Wang still lingering in his thoughts, answers he needed, but not here, not yet.
This kingdom was unraveling faster than I'd anticipated; the troops outside said everything I needed to know. Time to see how deep the rabbit hole went.
She finally looked up, eyes bright with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. A single bead of sweat traced a path down her cheek. Crow remained standing, watching her.
The queen gestured to the cube resting in its silver cradle, its surface still faintly shimmering from the recent infusion.
"I've been experimenting since our last conversation," she began, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of genuine excitement. "What I saw in your memories… those machines of war from your world. The way they channeled force without mana, relying on precise mechanisms, combustion, pressure, mass production. Crude in our terms, yes, but brutal, inefficient by magical standards, but unfiltered. Raw ingenuity. It forced me to rethink principles we've dismissed for so long as impossible or unworthy of royal study."
She paused, eyes flicking to the cube as if seeing something far beyond its black surface.
"Gunpowder trajectories calculated to the inch. Steel forged under extreme heat and pressure. Vehicles that moved without beasts or wind. Explosives that didn't need a mage's spark to detonate. I pulled fragments from your mind, images, concepts, even the crude mathematics behind them, and applied them here. Not to copy your weapons exactly; that would be foolish. But to hybridize. To ask: what happens when you force mana to behave like one of your chemical reactions? Or when you store it the way your batteries hoard electricity?"
Crow's face went pale.
Yeah, we are cooked. Maybe the world isn't going to end in some decades like the lore said if things go wrong, but in a matter of years. The worst part? It's my fault...
The queen placed her palms on either side of the cube again, not channeling yet, just framing it like an exhibit.
"This," she said, "is one result. A mana reservoir that mimics the density and release pattern of your high-explosive shells. It doesn't burn out a caster in seconds. It holds power equivalent to a battalion's worth of spells, compressed into a single object. And when it releases… controlled, directional, devastating. Like your artillery, but fueled by what I already have in abundance: mana, power."
Wait... she was this smart???
She met Crow's gaze directly, no evasion.
"You didn't give me spells or artifacts. You gave me perspective. A reminder that power doesn't always need elegance, it can be blunt, scalable, repeatable. That's what inspired the redesign. Without those memories, I would still be chasing incremental improvements to existing enchantments. Now… we have something that might actually shift the front line."
Yeah, make me feel even more guilty. Thanks a lot, Alice.
Crow kept his face impassive, but inside the gears were turning fast.
He glanced at the cube. Its violet pulse felt heavier now, almost expectant.
"And the instability? It's not dangerous? Maybe it can blow the palace apart" he asked, voice level.
The queen nodded, acknowledging the question without defensiveness.
"Correct. The mana seeks to equalize—a violent expansion. Our current binding runes last only minutes under the load. But I need them to last for days, weeks, months perhaps. Long enough to mass-produce them and fuel a long-range teleportation."
Crow watched as the queen rose from the workbench, brushing her hands together as if dusting off ordinary ink rather than residual mana. The schematics lay forgotten for the moment; her focus had shifted entirely to the cube.
He stayed beside her for a second longer.
"You need all this for what, exactly?" His voice was calm, but the question carried an edge. "To dominate the world?"
The queen paused, turning halfway toward him. A faint, almost amused smile touched her lips, not mocking, but distant, like someone recalling a private joke.
"To secure the peace of the kingdom," she said quietly. "By whatever means necessary. Peace through strength isn't pretty, Crow. It never has been. But it endures."
Before he could respond, the cube flared. The violet glow deepened abruptly, pulsing faster, brighter, less like a heartbeat now and more like a warning drum. The air around it thickened, pressing inward with a low, ominous whine that vibrated in his teeth.
The queen glanced at it, unperturbed. "Hmm. It seems it's going to explode in a few seconds."
Nice. And I'm standing just a meter away from it. Just my luck.