When Ell glimpsed Kael’s zero Favorability, she understood. The system was right—she was stupid. It was blatantly obvious from the very beginning, but she was too caught up in her biases to see straight. Games and novels often portrayed Favorability as other characters’ affection towards the player or protagonist. She assumed the same applied in her case.

  She let go of her glass, the crash muffled by the rising screams, and looked towards Isara. All the numbers made sense now.

  ‘System,’ she called in her mind. ‘This Favorability, it’s Ilai’s affection towards other characters, right?’ She’d passed Ilai’s friends earlier. Their numbers were pitifully in the single digits. ‘More specifically, the dead Ilai’s Favorability.’

  ‘Correct.’

  Ell covered the lower half of her face with a trembling hand, forcing down the bubbling laughter with a mock expression of shock.

  Royal guards formed a protective ring around the Queen. Temple guardians rushed into the garden and the hall, bringing some order to the chaos.

  Ell hurried to the Queen’s side.

  “Your Majesty, are you all right?” Ell exclaimed over the loud clamor.

  The Queen pushed the guards aside and pulled Ell into the protective encirclement. She scanned her from head to toe, face contorting with worry. “Are you hurt? What happened just now? Did Viscount Kael...?”

  —Explode?

  Ell hesitated then shook her head. “I’m not sure what happened.” She held onto the Queen’s arm tightly, frown deepening. “Your Majesty, I might be mistaken, but I think there was something wrong with the bell. I hope I am wrong, but... could it be that the viscount... Did he intend to—”

  Ell paused, falling silent.

  The Queen held her hands. She gave them a reassuring squeeze. “Aunt is listening.”

  Ell glanced at her hesitantly then shook slightly as she resumed, “Did he intend to assassinate me with that artifact? He seemed quite reluctant to use it.”

  The Queen's eyes widened in realization. Ell’s conjecture was indeed plausible. She pushed her niece behind her. “Guard!” the Queen called sternly. A young man responded quickly, standing in salute. “Arrest Earl Dren and investigate him thoroughly. I want the truth behind this farce by tonight!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty!” The guard hastened away and the encirclement tightened.

  Ell breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “I will not let you be wronged.” The Queen gave her cheek a comforting pat then looked around. “Where’s your guard?”

  The moment she asked, a shadow descended from above, landing in front of the guards. The petite figure rose from her crouch, a lavender grey tail swaying at her feet. Bat-like wings of the same color spread behind her. She saluted. “Your Majesty.”

  Selin—Ilai’s personal guard. Blessed with the mark of a Transcender.

  The information came from Ilai’s memory, as the novel hadn’t bothered to give her a name.

  In fact, from tonight onwards, Ell only had Ilai’s memory to guide her about most matters. The novel had closely followed Tyra, giving little regard to anybody else.

  Of course, Ell had knowledge about Ilai's upcoming fate; of how her father would be accused of treason and executed, and how his family and their servants would soon after be slaughtered. The only one spared, Ilai, would suffer a fate worse than death, tortured and branded a slave. But she didn’t want that kind of information to be relevant to the future she was going to create.

  A future where she was unharmed.

  Isara gave Ell’s forearms a gentle rub. “Aunt will compensate you for your ruined birthday. You go somewhere safer first.” She turned to Selin. "Protect her well."

  The Queen’s suggestion was reasonable. In her eyes, Byrun was an incompetent father, and Selin, a guard who had never allowed Ilai to be slighted since employment, was more reliable.

  Besides, Selin held the title of Defier. A title granted to those emerging victorious against a thousand beasts. A hundred soldiers could not compare.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Ell nodded and bid the Queen farewell, walking over to Selin.

  Seeing that Ell was in safe hands, Isara’s mark—an inverted sickle—glowed. She gave Ell a tight smile. A heartbeat later, she was gone.

  At this point, most of the guests had dispersed. Only a few lingered at the periphery, watching the guards drag away the grieving Earl. When the weeping man spotted Ell looking at him, he struggled fiercely, hurling varied profanities, eyes bloodshot.

  He owned quite the vocabulary.

  Ell turned away, looking at where Tyra had been, but the bench was empty.

  Selin moved closer. The slightly taller woman bowed her head, put an arm around Ell’s waist, and another under her knees. “Excuse me,” she said quietly before shooting into the air and out of the hall.

  Ell had not expected such abrupt exit, clinging to the guard’s Blessing-endowed armor tightly. When they’d crossed the temple grounds—ostentatious stretches of vibrant color and pompous architecture—and past the towering gates, Ell grumbled a complaint, “Maybe drop a warning next time.”

  Selin responded with a quiet gaze. Her pupils, grey vertical slits, lingered on Ell’s face for a while. Then she stopped mid-flight, dropping into a freefall through the clouds. Ell froze, nerves twisted in panic. She pulled at Selin’s clothes, air pushing unspoken vulgarities back into her throat. Memories flashed and settled.

  Ell decisively reached to Selin’s pointed ear and pinched it viciously.

  Selin didn't flinch, but the descent evened into a glide as she unfolded her wings.

  Ell’s heart beat wildly in her chest; the pointed treetops had been dangerously close. The tension in her grip did not ease as she rearranged the jumbled recollections.

  Ilai was used to flying around in Selin’s arms, so much so that the guard often scooped her up without a word. The 'excuse me' earlier was more than generous.

  Dealing with the Queen and Kael had been easy, so easy, in fact, Ell mistook the knowledge she had from the script for some cleverness of her own.

  She didn’t think she’d be caught easily. Even if she was, she believed she could handle it with ease.

  Arrogance had slithered a tail when she wasn’t noticing.

  It was only now that she realized the consequences of acting out of character. This world had shapeshifters and illusion weavers. All it took was one grounded suspicion about her true identity for her to die. And her death would not be pretty.

  Ell forced herself to calm down.

  Recalling Ilai’s usual conduct, she complained, “Stupid bat what are you throwing a tantrum for?” Selin gave her a cool glance and scoffed. “Did you scoff? Did you just scoff? You—” Ell gave the pointed ear another harsh pull, face dripping with displeasure.

  Selin gave another scoff.

  Enough memories had flashed and faded. Ell followed Ilai’s usual routine, ignoring the guard.

  Lands stretched as far as the eyes could see, clouds covering lush vegetation while sparing the skies above. Unlike the Unholy lands beneath, Blessark hung in the sky. The land, like the people, had been chosen.

  The Silva mansion was a long distance away from the Blessed Temple. Despite wanting nothing more than to make herself invisible, Ell endured the discomfort and nestled more securely into the firm embrace, anticipating the long flight.

  The thing she needed most right now was time alone. The perfect hundred above Selin’s head was a threat—she knew Ilai too well.

  Ell stiffened again but feared the abnormality would be detected by Selin, so she forced herself to loosen her hold and unwind her muscles.

  She rummaged through her thoughts for a distraction.

  Kael’s wings came to mind. Tonight’s events were as much a surprise to Ell as it was to the guests. But, despite her initial reservations, Ell could not bring herself to spare the cruel bastard.

  Killing him left little psychological burden—she did not consider herself to have killed him at all. At best, she’d turned a blind eye. His grand finale had been thoroughly prepared for by Ilai.

  Besides, she’d been careful not to look at his wretched remains. Out of sight, out of mind.

  The zero above Kael’s head had not only clarified the elusive [Favorability] but also brought along with it a surge of unsavory information. The Earl of Buro and his dastardly son, although with little power to their names, held immense wealth, siphoning a substantial income through trading artifacts.

  Artifacts, framed beautifully, were magical items. In less filtered words, they were the product of human trafficking. Or at least, that’s how they were first created.

  In Blessark, what stirred most havoc was a Blessed’s body. It was through unseemly means that people discovered that, by consuming a Blessed’s blood or flesh, one could gain the power of the other’s Blessing. The method was not sustainable, however, as the powers would fade within a day of consumption.

  But that was only a minor inconvenience to those who had means to get what they wanted.

  Blood was spilt, flesh was devoured, and Blessark fell into chaos. It was only when the art of smelting metal and blood created magical artifacts, displacing the need for cannibalism, that order was reenforced.

  Why would nobles and royalty move otherwise? Whether humans or humanity, they were most despised by diligent officials of illustrious courts.

  Centuries passed, laws became strict, and the selling of Blessed blood and artifacts grew heavily regulated, let alone the unlawful consumption of flesh. But law was for the people, and the nobles were not people. They were above.

  Arrogant.

  And the arrogant never saw themselves as equal to anyone.

  Thus, it was natural Earl Dren believed himself better than the commoners and beggars he collected off the streets to be drained and dismembered. He spared himself both taxes and a conscience. But while the father was in the trade for the money, the son, Kael, was in for the pleasure. He feasted on the living, relishing the fresh meat and agonized cries.

  Years of torture could not make up for the injustice they wrought.

  But Ilai’s priority was not making them pay. It was shutting down the business.

  Yes, Ilai Byrun Silva, reviled character in The Tale of Arrogance and infamous villain, was a self-righteous vigilante.