Although they had already landed, neither the guards nor the page boy got up. They simply waited. The only one who moved was the white armored knight, who dismounted Gale and walked to litter’s side. The magic beast was looking up, at the dove circling above. The other one had left, most likely to notify their superiors.

Everyone was silent. Even the boy stopped talking as the knight arrived, and stood outside looking towards the north gate with his back to the litter.

Dene looked towards the boy who finally stopped talking. Not out of tiredness and neither for fearing the white armored knight, as seemed to be the case with the guards. If she had to guess, it would be as to not bother the knight to whom he was probably a servant.

Imitating his lord, the boy turned his head north and also waited. Dene followed their example, gazing past the straight road being illuminated by lightstones on the ground where the road met the grass.

She did it for a couple of minutes before growing bored. Unbelievably, she missed the boy’s non-stop talking. At least she had learned a few things with it.

Looking back at him, she studied his features. He had short, golden blonde hair along with big, brown eyes. 11, maybe 12 years old. He was dressed in black pants and shirt with a white collar and cuffs. The clothes didn’t have any fine embroidering or jewelry, but she did notice a little pair of round, golden cufflinks.

She also noticed another thing. All this time, she had seen the boy as a nuisance at best, or her captor’s helper at worst, when he had been nothing but friendly towards her. He probably didn’t even understand what this trip was about.

“Hey,” she said to the boy who turned to looks back at her, “what’s your name?”.

“Oh, I’m Henri, Miss. Henri Jacques Lavoie.”

“That’s a nice name,” she said actually meaning it, though the names were foreign to her, “I’m Dene Yao.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Yao.”

From there they started talking. Both of them, instead of mostly Henri as before. She also tried to get more information about where they were, and where she was going.

Outside, the knight turned his head to see the two talking but didn’t say anything. Noting the knight’s not telling them to stop, they kept their conversation while the guards didn’t dare to say anything, as the knight himself didn’t say anything.

This went on for a few more minutes when Dene then saw a carriage pulled by two horses coming through the north gate. Following the illuminated road, it came to a stop about a dozen steps away from them. The door opened and came out two guards in plate armor flanking a middle-aged blonde dressed in a bright red dress with a single golden necklace around her neck.

“Greetings Lisian friends,” she spoke with a well-practiced smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you on this night.”

“The pleasure is mine, Madam.” The knight replied with a bow.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then knight handed her a sealed letter and then spoke to the inside of the litter, “Please come out Miss Yao. You too, Henri.”

It was no doubt an order but was still much better from the way the guards treated her.

Dene followed the boy out and stood with him beside the knight or Monsieur Duval as Henri told her. His full plate armor was completely white, save for a golden ring over the heart. He wasn't wearing a helmet and had a bald head that shined almost as much as his armor.

For a brief moment, while walking towards him, she looked into his eyes and he looked back. It didn't have the guards hostility nor Henri’s friendliness. It was stern and unwavering. The man had received his orders, and he would follow them.

The woman, on the other hand, showed a look of contempt for a brief moment before returning to her practiced smile.“Let’s go meet his Grace then.” she said, then walked back with her guards towards the carriage.

The Duval knight followed, though not before ordering the guards to watch over Gale and the litter. This made them unhappy, but they didn’t dare complain. Dene felt a tiny bit better knowing they wouldn't have what they wanted.

She and Henri followed Duval inside of the carriage. Not like she had any choice really. The knight, as well as the woman’s guards, were all Paladins while she was just a Crusader. They’d be able to catch her easily if she tried to escape. And even if she managed to, where would she go?

The carriage had two large seats facing one another, each large enough for three people. The woman sat flanked by her two guards on one with her in the middle. Dene, Duval, and Henri sat on the other in that order.

Everyone inside, the coachman turned the carriage around, passing over the grass in the process, and they left north towards the castle.

The blonde and the bald maintained some small talk, while the guards kept silent. Dene and Henri didn't dare to talk and just kept silent, looking out through their respective windows. while still inside the academy grounds, she could see a brightly illuminated ballroom in the distance where people celebrated.

Leaving the academy and onto the streets, there were similar scenes as people danced, drank and had fun. ‘They must take these tournaments seriously.’ She thought.

Slowly going through the crowded streets, they finally arrived at the castle she had seen from above. They rode through the road cutting the courtyard and reached the great hall where they disembarked. The place was filled with carriages coming in and out, but they were still able to disembark practically in front of the building.

Duval walked at the front alongside the woman, with Henri following closely behind. Dene came at the end, flanked by the two Paladin guards. They briefly stopped so that the woman could talk to a man, who then headed inside. They waited a few moments and went in.

Passing through the hall’s wide doors, Dene was greeted to a lavish sight. Attendants moved through the crowd, serving drinks to nobles dressed in jewels and brightly colored clothes. Along the rectangular building walls’, tables filled with more food than these people could hope to consume in a whole day.

In the center of the hall, an ensemble played some sort of wooden string instrument that produced a high-pitched sound.

The walls up high were lined with little lightstones, which coupled with the bigger ones on the crystal chandelier, made it seem like it was daytime inside the hall.

The place was clearly only meant for such events though. Windows began at chest height and reached close to the two stories tall ceiling. The doors were made of well carved, but non-resistant wood. It wasn’t even connected to the central keep.

Trying to defend such a place would be a joke. It's only saving grace was not being built of wood, or else invaders could just set it on fire and watch those inside burning to death.

She only took a few steps inside before a loud voice echoed through the place, “Sir Martin Duval bringing gifts from Crown Prince Louis of Lisbleus!” She turned towards the source of the voice and found the same man whom the blonde woman had stopped to talk to.

Noticing her confusion, Henri approached and whispered, “That’s the Herald, he announces the arrival of important guests.”

‘What a stupid job.’ she thought.

Following the Herald’s announcement, people turned to look at them —mostly the foreign knight and the tall dark skinned woman— studying their faces, clothes, jewelry, posture and every other detail they could find.

Dene felt naked despite the gorgeous green dress she was in.

The group made their way through the crowd to the other side of the great hall. Standing a full head taller than the average noble, she was able to see every corner of it.

They were heading towards a cluster of nobles. A middle-aged couple was the focus of attention among them, along with a young man close to her age, maybe a couple of years younger.

The middle-aged couple was most likely the Duke and his wife while the third one their son maybe?

The young man had a wine glass in his hand that he periodically brought to his lips in between furtive glances to the side.

She followed his gaze and found a similar cluster of nobles near one of the food tables. But where the couple had been surrounded by men and women of various ages, this one was comprised solely of young ladies. Donning beautiful dresses coupled with glittering earrings and necklaces, these women vied for a young man’s attention.

His features looked quite familiar. She quickly made the connection to the man who was with the Duke. ‘Brothers, maybe?’ she wondered, ‘Definitely related.’

He talked to the young women and seemed to do it politely, but even Dene and from a distance could see he didn't feel comfortable being there. Discreetly, he would take a couple of steps to a side, and the aggregation would do the same, keeping him surrounded. She couldn't help drawing comparisons to a band of predators surrounding their prey, ready to pounce.

As if looking for help, he cast discreet looks around. That’s when their eyes met. A pair of deep green eyes full of life. It made her feel a bit like when she gazed at the seemingly endless fields of grass she saw while flying here.

She quickly turned her gaze forward, not wanting to draw even more attention to herself, but the arrow had already been loosened.

While she turned her gaze, he would time and again turn to look at this tall, foreign woman with dark skin and very short hair.

Following behind Duval, Henri and the blonde, Dene finally reached the Duke. The blonde woman introduced the knight and his young page to her lord, then handed him the sealed letter.

He and his son nearby had some similarities, most noteworthy being their green eyes. They seemed sterile and unpleasant. Especially the son’s, he looked at her with a mix of contempt, hunger, and inebriation. She definitely didn’t like it.

The Duke opened the letter, glazed over its contents —raising an eyebrow in the process—, then handed it to his wife who also read and later stowed the letter inside the sleeve of her dress. Signaling towards Dene with his eyes he ordered the woman “Just leave her in the kitchen, for now, I’ll deal with it later,” and dismissed her.

She did a curtsy, signaled to the guards then walked towards a door at the hall’s back. Each guard grabbed an arm then conducted/forced Dene to follow.

They went through the wooden door, a somewhat long corridor, another wooden door and they were in the kitchen. It was filled with people working, even though the food outside was already too much. Some looked at her, but quickly continued their cooking, too busy to stop.

The blonde grabbed a stool, placed it on the most isolated corner and the guards forced Dene to sit.

“Now,” the woman spoke bringing her face close to Dene’s, “you’ll stay put and behave. Cause any trouble and there’ll be consequences. Am I clear?”

Dene’s reply was a sharp stare back that was met with an equally sharp slap across her face.

“Am.I.Clear?” the woman asked again.

Her face was still close. Dene fought the urge to do like her father and bite off the nose of this sandy-haired bitch. Finally, she answered, “...yes...”

“Good,” she stepped back, told the soldiers “keep watch over her,” and left.

The kitchen staff had turned to look after the slap but quickly returned to their duties. Guards stayed by their side without talking, leaving Dene with her thoughts.

Her left side of her face was throbbing. She kept her head down for a few minutes before looking up and around the kitchen, at the workers running around to make expensive food, to nobles who wouldn’t eat it.

Would this be her new life? Just a couple of months ago she was a proud warrior princess of one of the most powerful tribes. Their tribe was quickly achieving dominance of lesser tribes, with plans to become the hegemon of the desert.

And now she would become a servant. Could her life sink any further?

That’s when five noblemen came through the door, at the front was the Duke’s son who had been previously drinking by the man’s side. He looked around and his eyes immediately landed on her, bringing a sinister smile to his face.

“I want everyone out,” he said in a loud voice, “Now!”

Not daring to disobey, the staff promptly abandoned what they were doing and left. The same for the guards, who were ordered to stay outside and not let anyone in.

There were only Dene and the five of them left.

She immediately stood up, putting her back close to a counter. On top of it was a freshly baked pie that the baker had just finished, along with the knife he was using to slice it. Placing her hand behind her body, she grabbed the knife in a reverse grip, hiding the weapon behind her forearm.

“Now,” the Duke’s son spoke, ignorant to her action, “you already know what’s going to happen, so why don't you come here and make it easier for everyone?”

Dene seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before slowly making her way towards the noblemen, and the door they were blocking.

She was unable to cast spells with the triotium collar around her neck. Fortunately, only one of the men was an Archmage so this would be decided on physical combat.

She was a 4th stage Crusader, the strongest among them, but not enough to make up a difference of 5 vs 1. Her enemies were all Crusaders like her, save for one. The Duke’s son at 3rd stage, three of his followers were at the 2nd stage and the last one —the Archmage— was a 10th stage Fighter. He would be the first.

She had to make the most of ser surprise attack, take out as many as possible and run through the door while they were still startled… no. The guards were still outside. Even in full plate armor, she wasn’t sure if it was possible to outrun them. Even if she did, there was still a room full of other northerners to worry about.

Dene had already covered half the distance and didn't have a feasible plan. She needed something to prevent them from trying to stop her, that would make them unwilling to try...

A hostage!

Having decided on what to do, she finally reached her target.

“Isn’t it much better when they cooperate?” he joked, eliciting chuckles from his followers. “Alright, I’ll go first,” he said while struggling to unbuckle his pants “then-”

He didn't manage to finish his sentence, as that was when Dene attacked.

She slashed the Archmage’s throat followed by kicking another one away, which impulsed her towards a third whose neck she plunged the knife into. The one she kicked had fallen to the ground and wasn’t up yet.

She had to go fast, only the Leader and one more noble thug left. She rushed towards this last thug but changed directions in the last moment going towards her intended target. She could see the panic in the eyes of the Duke’s son and then she could see nothing.

A flash of light hit her face and she was blinded. The Archmage! But how? He should be bleeding on the floor. No time to find out. She tried grabbing forward and hopefully touch her target, but found nothing. A direct blow from behind and she fell to the floor. Another to her hand and the knife was no longer with her.

When Dene was able to see again, she laid a few feet from the door, pinned down to the ground by the two uninjured lackeys. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Archmage kneeling over the man whose neck she pierced.

His neck had a wide scar where she had slashed, but that was it. He was casting a spell, hoping to do finish it before his companion bled out.

The last of the five —her intended hostage— was the only one on his feet.

“My lord?” A voice came from outside. One of the guards.

“Everything is fine,” he answered, “just a little mishap.” He then looked back at her. Gone was the panic, in its place anger and shame over almost being beaten. “You’ll pay for that.”

The Archmage finished his spell and warm light enveloped the bleeding man’s wound. It was gone after a couple of seconds, a wide scar all that was left.

Dene didn't understand. Light magic could heal? She struggled to free herself, but to no avail.

By now the Archmage was on his feet, as was the just healed man. Both of them had the scars from where the knife slashed and pierced respectively.

“Hold the legs,” the leader ordered them.

Dene still tried to fight back, kicking at them. A punch to the head by one of the men pinning her down left the southerner dazed. The other two took this chance to hold and spread her legs, leaving each of them in charge of a limb with the Duke’s son free to do what he wanted.

Unable to move, she did the only thing available to her.

She screamed.

And nothing happened.

“You know,” he said, recovering the sinister smile he had before, “we were just gonna have our fun and be done,” he grabbed the knife she had used from the ground, “but now. Now you’re gonna suffer.”

Standing over her, he used the knife to cut open the front of her dress, then the bra, fully exposing her breasts. She screamed, which only seemed to make them more excited.

“Yeah, scream bitch!” one of them taunted, followed by a direct punch to her unprotected stomach, “see what good that’ll do you.”

She struggled to breathe while holding back the bile that threatened to come. Another punch —this time to the mouth— and she could taste metal, along with swallowing one of her teeth. It became even harder to breathe.

The Duke’s son positioned himself in between her legs, cutting open the lower part of her dress and ripping off her panties. Then he once again began unbuckling his pants. This time it was quick, and before long his pants were down to his knees.

‘No, no, NO!’ She pleaded in her mind, eyes watering up. The southerner screamed for the third time, but this time something happened.

“Out of my way, now!” a male voice bellowed from outside. Next thing she knew, the kitchen’s door was kicked open. The Archmage who had his back to the door was pushed forward, falling on top of the Duke’s son and just as importantly; freeing her right leg.

Dene immediately pulled her now free leg back, knee almost touching her nose, then kicked down, with all her strength, towards the would-be rapist’s exposed groin. It was his time to scream. It was his time to cry.

Startled, the other one holding her leg let go, while whoever kicked the door fell upon the man holding her right arm. Only her other arm left.

Different from his companions, the last man refused to release her. Holding her arm with one hand, he punched down at her head. Dene moved it to the side, the punch hit the floor and she heard the sound of bone breaking.

He wouldn't leave with just a broken hand though. As he kept her grip around her arm, Dene grabbed his head with her free hand. The fingertips reached the back of the skull while the thumb crushed his eye. This time he let go of her.

He tumbled backward and she was free. The southerner grabbed the knife once again and got up, fighting against the sharp pain from her bruises and the lack of air.

The Duke’s son was curled up in a fetal position. The one-eyed man was also on the ground, contorting in pain with a hand to the head. The Archmage had started a spell chant, most likely to heal one of them, forgetting there was an enemy nearby.

She once again kicked with all her strength, once again there was the sound of bone breaking and the Archmage was thrown backward, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

“Heal that you bastard!” she cried out, then turned her attention to the leader. She gave him another kick for good measure and he passed out for a moment. Dene was about to stab her knife at him when she was violently pushed. The guards.

They had been at the door, watching the fight. Afraid of punishments if they interfered and also if they didn't, neither one knew what to do. But when they saw her kill one of the nobles, the duo knew they had to act.

Dene hit the wall with a loud thud, and this time wasn’t able to hold back the vomit, falling to her knees while expelling bile and a single tooth.

They then rushed to separate the two who were still fighting.

Having emptied the contents of her stomach, she struggled to get up, leaning on the same counter from where she grabbed the knife. The southerner looked around the kitchen.

Of the five who tried to assault her. One laid dead. Two were on the floor, wounded quite badly. The fourth one also had some wounds from fighting whoever kicked open the door. And the fifth one wasn’t wounded, but his legs shook too much for him to stand up.

The battered and light-headed Dene started laughing almost maniacally, “Who’s the bitch now, bitches!?”

The soldiers clearly didn't like the comment, but when they moved to silence the still laughing woman a voice ordered, “Stand down!”

Although it was meant to the two soldiers, it also made her stop for different reasons. It was the same voice as the man who kicked the door.

She looked towards the source and was met with a pair of deep green eyes staring at her. The same eyes from the man who was previously trying to escape from a band of women. And also related to the man who tortured and almost raped her.

His clothes were a bit messed up, one of the sleeves partially ripped from the elbow below, but he didn't appear bruised. He turned towards the guard closest to the door and ordered, “Angela is at the hall with father. Bring her here.”

“My lord-” he attempted to object and was immediately shut out.

“Now!”

Not daring to linger the man rushes outside. He returns some minutes later with —to Dene’s surprise— the same blonde who slapped her previously.

“By the holy flame!” she was appalled, “what happened here?” That’s when her gaze fell on the dead body, and she showed a look of shock. “Heddwyn!” She knelt close to the body, knowing full well that there was nothing to be done.

Seeing her distress immediately brought a smile to the southerner’s face. A bloodied and missing one tooth, smile. Angela looked around for the culprit and her gaze fell on the only other woman in there. The look of contempt she showed before leaving was replaced by hate. “You! What did you do you animal!?”

Once again, the man stood up for the southerner, “She is not an animal! Miss killed your student in self-defense after he almost violated her honor.”

“Stop lying,” came a labored voice from the floor, “look at what that thing did to me. It hit me with a low blow... killed Heddwyn while he tried to help me... then hit me again when I was already down.” The leader of the would-be rapists spoke in between gasps for air, still curled on the floor. “That beast has no honor, and I order it to be executed!”

“Your orders mean shit in front of me, and if you keep this up I’ll kick you myself!”

He tried to protest, but when his older brother threatened to come closer he finally stopped. “I’m telling Mother,” was all he dared to say.

“Yeah, you do that,” then ignoring the pathetic excuse for a man he had as a brother he turned back to Angela, “Now, you can report it all to father after the guests have left. But for now, I called you here for a reason,” he pointed at Dene and said, “help her.”

Angela showed a defiant look for a second but didn't try to argue. She knew there was no use to when he got like this. The blonde wordlessly got in front of her new sworn enemy. Her hands became enveloped in a warm light which she used to mend the injuries. They were either internal bleedings or fractured bones.

Dene was all too glad for the silence. As her body started to relax after avoiding the worst of the traumatic experience, emotions that got temporarily suppressed came rushing back in. Most specifically, fear.

“It’s done,” she curtly said and went to take care of the other wounded. As the blonde walked away, the young lord approached, handing her a white tablecloth while looking to the sides, trying not to gaze at her body.

Dene’s green dress was being held solely by a strip of cloth around the navel, leaving all the private parts exposed.

She took the tablecloth and wrapped it around her body, if not for common decency, then for the chilliness which increased every second.

“Please come with me,” he said then walked out of the kitchen, Dene following behind.

She was in there for an hour at most, but it felt like an eternity.

They were in the corridor that led to where the party was being held, but instead of keeping going, they turned a right, went through another wooden door and were in the courtyard.

Dene was glad for the tablecloth, as she otherwise wouldn't be able to withstand the cold winds.

Paying less and less attention to her surroundings, she simply focused on following the man who helped her so much tonight. They walked in silence, both with too much on their minds.

She recorded going through corridors and climbing some stairs, but that was it. Before long they were inside a large, lavish bedroom, with a large bed and… other luxurious things. The bed was what she was mostly focusing on. She was too tired.

The man was walking around searching for something, opening drawers, looking inside the wardrobe, under his bed, all the while muttering to himself “Where did I put it?”

Just like she had cooled down, he too seemed to have lost the fire he demonstrated at the previous conflict.

Dene tried to keep herself awake by talking. She asked where they were and he responded it was his bedroom, which caused her to take an involuntary step back and tighten her grip on the tablecloth.

Noticing the fear creeping back into her, he quickly explained himself, “Oh no, it's not like that. It’s to protect you. I’m sure that after what happened, my brother won’t let things be… bee!” Remembering something, he walked toward a ceramic flower vase over the nightstand beside the bed. He removed the flowers and shoved his hand inside. When he took it out, it held a pair of keys.

“Sorry for that. As I was saying, I doubt my brother will let things be after what happened. But I won't let him.”He showed her a warm smile and continued, “don't worry, you’re safe here.”

‘Sure I am,’ she thought sarcastically recording what had almost just transpired.

Ignorant to her thoughts, he then went towards a corner table near the door where sat a lidded serving tray platter. The nobleman removed the lid, revealing it to be filled with food. He ate a couple of fish sticks, grabbed a large turkey thigh and put the lid back. He then tried handing the tray to her with no success.

“Take it, you must be hungry after everything. No need to worry about me, I can always ask the servants to bring me more.”

But still, she didn't take it, looking back at him as if the reason was obvious. He began worrying that she didn't like the food when he then remembered the tablecloth. Her hands were busy holding it closed.

“Oh right, forgot that,” he then took the pair of keys and unlocked a door directly in front of the bed. Inside was another bedroom, though much smaller in size. “This is a bedroom for personal servants, though I’ve never had a use for them, so it remained empty. So you can sleep here.”

Putting the platter over the bed, he then infused mana at the single lightstone up on the wall, then pointed to the wardrobe, “There are some clothes in there, but I don’t know if there’s anything your size. If nothing fits, I can call the tailor tomorrow. I’ll need to ask him to fix this anyway,” he said lifting his arm and showing the partially ripped sleeve.

“Unfortunately, I don't think your dress can be saved. It was certainly pretty. Anyways, about these keys. There are only these two, so you have to take care of them. This first one opens the door to my bedroom, while the other opens that door that goes to the corridor. Also, if you need a bath you can take the leftmost door in my bedroom. That’s the bathroom is there, and the water is periodically swapped by the servants.”

“I guess that's all. If you need anything, just call me.”

She nodded, and he turned to leave. Remembering something she said, “wait,” and he looked back.

“Thank you for helping me, I hate to think of what would’ve happened if you didn’t.”

“You’re welcome, but no need to thank me. I just did what I thought was right.”

“Even so, I still want to thank you. I’m Dene by the way… Dene Yao.”

“Oh, nice to meet you Dene. I’m Jonathan. Jonathan Olsen...”

Having introduced themselves, Jonathan then left, leaving Dene alone in the smaller bedroom. The first thing she did was to lock the doors.

Having done that, she then dropped the tablecloth, ripped out the last part of her dress and sat on the bed. She should go take a bath, but was too exhausted and famished for that.

The southerner opened the lid, and grabbed a few bites of the food, then closed it again and placed it over a small center desk. Finally, she threw herself in bed and fell asleep.

--------

Dene woke up startled from a nightmare. A nightmare where she was still on that kitchen floor, no one coming to help her.

She double checked the locks then pushed the wardrobe to block the door to the corridor. Then the bed to block the other one. Then she went back to sleep.