Elsa smoothly retracted the blood-soaked longsword.

  A warm pool of blood spread across the ground. The thick, coppery scent hit the air—a wave of it, nearly overwhelming.

  Lucien sat slumped on the ground, the warm liquid soaking his hands, splashing across his face. He stared, gasping for breath, his eyes vacant as his soul seemed to leave his body. He could only feel the warmth draining from Cole beside him, fading into stillness.

  Elsa, on the other hand, looked down at him, covered in blood and filth, a secret, satisfied smile playing on her lips.

  Excellent.

  Now, these two were stained with the blood of Arthur’s confidants.

  Only two paths lay before them: pledge absolute loyalty to Lady Pandora, or await Arthur’s revenge, a reprisal so complete there might not be a single bone left to find.

  They got to work with swift, practiced movements.

  The corpses were dragged into the deep shadows without a single unnecessary sound. The bloodstains were quickly covered with dust. The entire cleanup was exceptionally clean and efficient.

  The night wind still rustled the treetops. The light from the town hall window hadn’t flickered. The rhythmic footsteps of the patrolling guards in the distance remained as steady as ever.

  Unseen, a secret killing had come to a close.

  “It’s done.”

  Elsa’s voice came from the edge of the woods, followed by a low, deliberate whistle, meant to sound like a night bird.

  A moment later, the sound of light footsteps drew closer. Pandora pushed through the bushes, her form revealed.

  She strode up to Elsa. Her gaze swept over the two boys, now covered in blood and grime, and then she gave a slight nod.

  “Not bad.”

  Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to anchor them.

  “Ham, Lucien, your actions have proven yourselves. Fear is natural, but you overcame it. From this day forward, you are not ‘knight-squires,’ nor are you ‘traitors’… you are Knights of Douglas.”

  A Knight of Douglas!

  The words struck them like lightning. The chaos in their minds instantly settled. The unease vanished. Even though the world had changed, the name ‘Douglas’ was still a brand seared deep into their very bones.

  Lucien tilted his blood-splattered face, still unwiped, and a terrifying light burst from his eyes.

  Ham instinctively straightened his back like a ramrod, as if it hadn’t been a cold dagger that had entered Cole’s body, but the ceremonial sword of a knighting ceremony.

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  They had offered their pledge in blood and received Miss Pandora’s recognition.

  From this moment on, their future and all the glory they could hope for were tied to the slender young woman before them, a girl who seemed fragile but possessed an unyielding core.

  “Thank you for your trust, My Lady!”

  The two of them said it almost in unison, a low roar from their hoarse throats. Their voices were a little loud… but it didn't attract any attention from over there.

  A smile trembled on Pandora’s lips. Finally, she nodded.

  Then, she turned to Elsa at her side. Her gaze softened, her approval unconcealed.

  “And you, Elsa. None of this would have gone so smoothly without you.”

  Elsa lowered her head slightly, a faint but genuine smile on her lips. “It is my duty to ease your burdens, My Lady.”

  ………………

  As they say, to the victor go the spoils. And every good victor knows you have to open the treasure chests.

  Under Pandora’s expectant gaze, the four of them worked together, shoving open the heavy iron gate of the armory.

  The air inside was dim and damp. Rows of sharp swords and heavy armor stood in silent display. Neatly arranged longbows and heavy crossbows leaned against the walls, and in the corner sat several large barrels of black oil.

  “Go on. Choose.”

  Pandora didn’t enter, remaining at the entrance, her tone flat. “Take what you need. Whatever will be useful.”

  Ham and Lucien lunged inside without hesitation, heading straight for the heavy knight’s armor that gleamed with a dull metallic luster. It was the very symbol of the status they had lost just hours ago, and now, with their own hands, they had taken it back!

  But this time, the one they swore fealty to was no longer Arthur, but the one they were truly meant to serve: Pandora Douglas!

  Pandora walked over to the section with light leather and chainmail. For her, cumbersome plate armor was unnecessary. Mobility and a moderate degree of protection were key. The set of dark brown leather armor before her was just right. It was lined with soft leather, the edges reinforced with fine, leaf-shaped rivets. Light and form-fitting, while also providing ample protection.

  As for Elsa?

  She stood rooted to the spot from beginning to end, not moving a muscle.

  “Elsa?” Pandora turned to look at her.

  “There is no need for me, My Lady.”

  “My body is already the most lethal weapon and the sturdiest armor. Anything else would just get in the way during my ‘transformation.’ This state is optimal for me.”

  Pandora didn’t press it. She knew all about Elsa’s special traits.

  In the end, in addition to various pieces of protective gear, each of them also selected a finely crafted hand crossbow. Its design was compact, easy to carry and conceal, and could be cocked silently—the ideal choice for long-range suppression and ambushes.

  Everything was done in silence.

  But this wasn't all they were here to do.

  “Keep going.”

  Pandora stood at the door, her voice deliberately lowered.

  “Find the remaining barrels of oil. Bring them all out. Pour them on the piles of armor, on the weapon racks, and on the wooden beam above the entrance.”

  She paused, organizing her thoughts. “Remember, light the fire after we’ve left. The moment it’s lit, get on your horses and retreat the way we came. Head to the rendezvous point.”

  “We are not bandits. We don’t need to take this much.” Her voice turned cold, and the two young knights immediately fell silent.

  “Our mission is to ‘create an incident.’”

  “I want Arthur to watch his armory burn to the ground. I want him to find his knights dead outside the door, to not find a single piece of intact armor in the ruins. I want him overwhelmed. Frantic. Then he will have neither the time nor the energy to recall the daughter of a man ‘long dead,’ nor to worry about a manor he has already ‘forgotten.’”

  Ham and Lucien nodded, the excitement in their eyes replaced by the calm resolve of men carrying out an order.

  “Yes, My Lady!” they said in unison, their voices low.

  That was all Pandora needed to say.

  She turned and led Elsa away, silent as a shadow, from the storeroom that was about to become an inferno.

  Behind her, she could hear the faint rustling of the two boys searching for the oil barrels, and the soft thuds of armor being intentionally knocked over, of weapons being carelessly tossed aside. They were creating the signs of a “struggle,” adding the final touch of “chaos” to the coming fire.

  But for Pandora, this was just the beginning.

  The fire was the prologue.

  Her real prize was stored elsewhere.