Her warmth, seeping through their clothes, enveloped Pandora.

  “My Lady, are you ready?”

  Elsa whispered in her ear, her breath warm. There was a new quality in her voice, one Pandora hadn’t heard before—a gentle, meticulous concern.

  “Mm.”

  Pandora gave a slight nod, her gaze fixed on the dark forest path ahead.

  “My Lady, it might get bumpy. Can you handle it?”

  “I can handle it.”

  Her voice was light, but it carried an unshakable resolve.

  A hothouse flower? Not anymore. Now, she was Pandora Douglas—the one who had been cornered by zombification, who had cut her own beloved handmaiden's throat, who had offered her own blood beneath the moon. What was a bumpy ride compared to that?

  Elsa said no more. The arm around Pandora’s waist tightened, a silent promise. With me here, you won't have to worry about the bumps.

  “Ham, Lucien,” Pandora’s tone shifted, becoming cold. “You two, follow my lead. Remember, your lives are mine. If I sense even the slightest hint of betrayal…”

  Her words trailed off. No explanation was needed.

  The blood-red long sword in Elsa’s hand had already silently left its sheath. In the moonlight, the cold blade glowed—a sight that ensured the squires' complete attention.

  “Elsa will personally take your heads.”

  Pandora’s voice was flat as still water. It didn't stop Ham and Lucien from trembling. They had no doubt she meant it. A handmaiden who could drag a fully armored knight from his horse and decapitate him? Killing them would be child’s play.

  “Yes, My Lady! We swear on our knight’s honor, we will be absolutely loyal!”

  The two of them quickly mounted their horses. Their voices trembled, but their attitude was firm.

  “Good.”

  Pandora took a deep breath. The cool night breeze caressed her hair.

  Before them lay the town, shrouded in darkness. Arthur’s self-proclaimed “royal capital.”

  Tonight, she would personally rip open a wound in its heart.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Move out.”

  At her command, the three horses galloped into the vast night like shadows.

  ………………

  The night sky, thick as ink, hung over the town.

  There were no stars, only the blood-red orb hanging high, casting its cold glow upon the earth, draping a sheer, bloody veil over the dead ruins.

  Occasionally, the mindless snarls of zombies echoed from the town’s entrance, adding to the ghastly atmosphere.

  Right now, if not for Ham and Lucien, their two “insider” guides, Pandora would never have ventured into this land of death.

  “My Lady, rest assured, this path is safe,” Lucien said, looking back.

  They were on the “safe passage” Arthur had cleared during the day. As long as there were no accidents, they were unlikely to encounter any danger.

  After passing through the backyard of an abandoned blacksmith’s shop and bypassing a narrow alley piled with debris, the group finally arrived at their destination.

  It was a low, unassuming stone building, half-buried in a hillside. The entrance to the cellar.

  This place had once been where the Magistrate stored his fine wines. Now, it was the “armory” of Arthur’s “new kingdom.”

  In front of the cellar entrance stood two tall, heavy figures, like two sculptures forged of steel. Their eyes were vigilant, their bodies perfectly still.

  The light of the blood moon outlined the contours of their heavy plate armor. They gripped halberds in their hands, their eyes warily scanning the surroundings. They were clearly not just for show.

  And not far away, in the tallest building in town—the town hall—a single window was lit, like an eye peering into the darkness. That was the residence of the so-called “King of the New Era,” Arthur.

  “This is the place,” Ham said in a low voice, pointing at the two guards. “They… before, they were squires, just like us. They were just ‘knighted’ by Lord Arthur today and assigned to guard the armory.”

  “That’s right,” Lucien agreed. “All the equipment is stored inside. Armor, weapons, and… the registry for food rations. That’s what we knew before we left. We can’t be sure if anything has changed now, My Lady…”

  “It doesn't matter. This is enough.”

  Hiding in the bushes, Pandora took in the guards’ positions, their equipment, the environment.

  The information was accurate.

  The problem? Full plate armor.

  Underneath, they were just boys, but in this era, armor was armor. It was the best protection you could get.

  Frontal assault? Four on two. With Elsa, they had the edge. It shouldn't be a problem. But the noise? Without a doubt, it would alert Arthur, who was still in the town hall.

  A sneak attack? But these weren’t Alchemical beings like Elsa. They had normal human needs. They’d have to relieve themselves at some point, right? But they hadn’t moved. Who knew how long they’d wait…

  No. They couldn't be this passive.

  Pandora’s brow furrowed.

  Seconds stretched into eternity as they waited in silence.

  “My Lady.”

  Elsa’s voice was a whisper in her ear.

  “Let’s use my 'method'.”

  Pandora stiffened. She knew exactly what she meant.

  Right now, it seemed to be the only way to silently deal with those two ironclad guards without alerting anyone.

  She’d considered it herself. In theory, she shouldn’t hesitate, but…

  “It’s still too dangerous, Elsa,” Pandora whispered back, her voice tinged with a concern she hadn’t noticed. “We don’t need to take this risk. If anything goes wrong…”

  “It won’t.”

  Elsa’s tone was exceptionally calm, even carrying a conviction that was strangely persuasive.

  “Making your wishes come true is my duty as your handmaiden, My Lady.”

  “Please trust in me, My Lady.”

  Pandora fell silent.

  She stared at Elsa’s placid profile in the moonlight. In those eyes, there was no fear, no hesitation, only an utter, sincere loyalty. And a passion that burned only for her, a passion that almost transcended humanity.

  Finally, Pandora let out a long, silent sigh.

  “…Very well.”