A carriage stopped outside the courtyard door of a large castle, from which a man with graying, chestnut-shaded hair emerged, gazing up at the castle and greeting the man who had receiptioned his arrival, "Marcel."

"Old friend," the man started, a smirk on his face, inviting Paul with a hand motion to the entrance to his castle, "all the guests are present; the stage is set."

After exchanging a satisfied nod, both men made their way to the castle, to a door behind which they knew their guests were.

Before opening the door, Paul looked at the man beside him and said, "I might have asked too much of you. But I was left with no other choice but to once again request your help."

"I know and I do understand. Only I could have made a private audience between you and them possible; let’s just hope that this won’t haunt me with regrets in the a near or far future. To be honest, regrets are already tingling my old senses," Marcel Summerhall smiled, a smile that he shared with his friend, Paul Douglas.

They both opened the door in front of them and entered a room where two men whose patience seemed to have run out were waiting for Summerhall, but as their gazes landed on the man accompanying him, something else became abundantly clear from their expressions: they weren't expecting to see Paul Douglas.

them.

"Gentlemen, I apologize for this slight delay. My castle's final visitor has arrived to join us.

"Greetings, Lord Amberham. Your Grace."

"Summerhall, what's the meaning of this?" grumbled Grandminister Amberham. "What is he doing here?"

"Oh my. In my clumsiness, I must have forgotten to mention that Lord Douglas would be attending this small gathering."

"Gentlemen, your grace, please make yourself at home," Summerhall proposed, motioning to the two seats arranged hemispherically to the prince's and the grandminister's, with a low glass table in between.

Unfazed, Paul went to take his seat as he had been invited to, but Amberham and the Holy Paladin were still standing there, glaring at both Paul and Summerhall with a murderous glare, before moving, seemingly to take their leave.

But before they could do so, Summerhall announced to be heard loud and clear, "Gentlemen, I might’ve made a mistake by failing to mention Lord Douglas attending this little plotting meeting of ours. I made no mistake when I mentioned that it would be a reunion that would decide the path of our beloved nation. I had assumed the content of the discussion that might unfold between these four walls might be of great interest to Your Grace, the Holy Paladin, and Grandminister Amberham. Perhaps I was wrong."

The room dawned into a reluctant silence for a moment, but after a while the Holy Paladin went back to his seat, a move that was followed by the Grandminister Amberham.

"So, gentlemen, since we–"

"Cut the crap and get straight to your point. I have no time, let alone the patience to waste my time here," cut down the irritated Holy Paladin.

"Understood, your grace." Summerhall turned to face Paul and said, "Lord Douglas, I believe you heard his grace. I will pass the voice to you. I'm counting on you to make sure you don't waste his grace's time. "

"I will do my best." With these words, Paul retrieved a document, and, without further tergiversation, slid it across the low glass table toward the paladin.

"What is that?"

"A glimpse into the future of this kingdom."

Despite his doubt, the Holy Paladin proceeded to read the document, but Amberham, not handed the document, was left barking, "If it is, Douglas, yet another one of those ridiculous requests concerning the Apostle’s remnant, the crow—" only to be cut by Paul.

"No, Grandminister Amberham. It is not. I am done with that."

"What?"

"I said, I’ve already changed my mind. The position held by the crown was made clear. Trying to change an already formed mind was a futile waste of my time, I realized. Which is why I was prompted to shift to more unconventional methods. "

While Paul’s words brought certain confused concerns to Amberham's expression, a glance at the Holy Paladin’s expression turned these concerns into palpable dread.

"Douglas, what’s the meaning of this?!" barked the Holy Paladin, slapping the documents atop the low glass table so hard that it even shattered.

"Since the crown is adamant that my Douglas wishes ill on the kingdom, what other choice was I left with but to prove them wrong, even if it meant using extreme measures."

Before Paul could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by the Holy Paladin, who abruptly stood from his seat and grabbed him by the collar.

"Do you think your family immunity means anything to me?

With an unphased expression on his face, Paul replied, "I never doubt that it ever did."

"Just because you have that bastard back, do you think I’m afraid of you? "

"Certainly not. That being said, your grace. Are you sure about this? Is it really the way you wish to see this settled?"

"What are you—wait,..." At first perplexed, he looked around, noticing the absence of the boy with whom he had always tagged along, and the Holy Paladin, even more threatening, barked at Douglas, "Where is he?... WHERE IS HE?!!"

"This reunion was for us to talk about the future. But the thing is that the future is now, gentlemen!" Paul grandiosely announced.

Though taken by an urge to kill the man right now, the Holy Paladin, gathering himself, let go of Paul’s collar and headed toward the door.

"If anything happens to my family, I swear onto the seven Douglas; even if it costs me my life, I will see you and your entire fami–"

"Your threats are less than unnecessary, your grace. Didn’t I earlier make it clear that I wished no ill upon the kingdom or the crown? Those who do not belong to it, on the other hand,— are a whole different story.

Though Paul's words may appear as a mere, vague insinuation to a random bystander, the Holy Paladin paled with a deathly expression, understanding the meaning lurking beneath Paul's vague words.

For a moment, the Holy Paladin looked ready to bathe the room in blood, but in the end, after proper consideration, he decided to take an abrupt leave.

Left on their own, Paul, Grandminister Summerhall, and Amberham were left on their own.

With the Holy Paladin gone, the still-confused Amberham was tempted to take his leave, but before he could do so, he was called out by Douglas’s word, "Well, well, since we were so abruptly left by his grace, I believe we are left with no other choices but to discuss things between ourselves. And I have no words to describe how well everything has come together, Grandminister Amberham, because Grandminister Summerhall and I have a lot to talk about with you."

***

Somewhere in the eastern fortress.

A little more than a thousand years ago, before the theocracy became the nation that it is now known for, a monstrous and opulent fortress was built on the territory where the last of the last crusades were waged within the Kingdom territory, inspiring the establishment of the great fortresses at the three cardinal borders of the church's barrier in the centuries to follow.

The fortress, built of the most opulent black gold and standing atop the grassy plain field, guarded the continent, its black fangs bearing toward the eastern horizon.

Though initially meant to be a stronghold for paladins and legionnaires for the upcoming eastward crusades, the fortress, with the passing centuries, slowly but steadily became more than simply that.

First it drew commoners, who came in the hope of finding work for the lords and nobles who lived in the opulent fortress; then it drew merchants, who were soon, in turn, followed by nobles, some of whom were born within the fortress itself or came from elsewhere but moved in for their own diverse reasons.

Soon, around the massive fortress, a city was born; a city that, despite being built atop the kingdom’s and the Duchy of Saint Emily’s territory, was free of its ducal influence and was instead ruled by the Landon house of seven great noble families, mostly by a representative of that particular family standing at the seat of fortification. Despite the increasing threat the local duchy saw in the city's continuous, slow, and voracious expansion within the Duchy of Saint Emily's territory, the city had been given a name after the fortress it spawned from—Eastern City.

For hundreds of years, the city remained unchallenged in that great family's hands, with the backing of the church. But that was a thing of the past; for two years before, when the lightning calamity struck, all that was left of the great fortress and the city that sprouted from it were a desert of ashes.

***

"That being said, Nikolai, you did really great work rebuilding this fortress," Archbishop Ainsley praised.

He and his colleague were seated atop a balcony at the very top tower of the fortress, overlooking the young Paladins' training down below. "I wonder how much money went into rebuilding this place from the ashes that it was? I can hear the scream of an empty wallet."

"Does it even matter how much it costs?"

"Well, I suppose it doesn’t, but, you see, I was trying to start a conversation over here. With old age, this place is getting really challengingly boring for an old man like me, like us."

"Then why don’t you just go and take your retreat? It’s not like you have much time to leave anyway, better spend it with your family."

"Those are indeed great prospects. As cold as it was, I might not look like it, but I’m barely 74 years old. I still have a good quarter of a century ahead of me."

"I wasn’t talking about old age."

Both men looked at each other with an exhausted expression on their faces.

"You mean him?"

"Yes, him. It's only a matter of time before he comes after us. Three of us have already died at his hands. Karen, Sullivah, and even Freshet."

Both men sighed at the mention of the latter, who was a fellow fortress's lord and a fellow Fourteen to them.

"What happened with Freshet really came out of nowhere. While I knew he was coming for us, I thought that since he was at the other end of the continent, he would be relatively safe, at least for a while, which I suppose is why he refused to leave his fortress and lend us an arm, but it appears I was wrong. It's equally coming from us all," Nicolai sighed.

A few months prior, just after the news of the Faceless One’s return to the continent and the chaos he had brought along reached his ears, Nikolai, understanding the threats that the Faceless One represented, invited his fellow Fourteens to hold bastions at the newly rebuilt eastern fortress. Only one of the fourteen responded—Archbishop Amon Ainsley, the man who had instead met the faceless one in their expedition to the Iharana Great Forest in search of an answer and explanation for the event known as the calamities.

Freshet was among those Nikolai expected the most help from, as he seemed to understand what was at stake, just like he and Ainsley, who had seen with their own eyes what the Faceless One was capable of, but that didn't happen. After the fourteenth's summoning and reunion, Freshet chose to ignore Nikolai's calls and returned to his fortress in the north, acting as if the threat didn't exist. It did, and it didn’t take it long to catch up to him.

"I don't think he ever imagined himself being safe in any sort of way; I think he just had his own pride as a fortress guardian; he'd spent most of his life there after all. Pretty much just like you do."

"I suppose I can't say I don't understand why he made that choice."

"You earlier mentioned that I should take my retreat, but what about you?"

"Me?"

"You had time, and you may still have. It might not be too late. I know you hold dear to it, but you had a son; he’s gone, but you still leave behind a lega–"

"My son is the only one I will ever have," Nikolai said with stomping strength before Ainsley could say anything else. "I have nothing to leave behind as a legacy. All I have left, the only thing holding me together in this miserable existence, is my delusory vengeance."

Ainsley looked at his comrade and remarked, "Do you know of whom your words reminded me?"

"Sullivah?"

"Yes."

"Ironic, isn’t it? "I, too, recall giving similar advice to Durant, yet look at me; at least in his case, the object of his obsession was a human, whereas mine is...

"Yours is a dragon."

"Not just a dragon, but the lightning calamity itself. I know my endeavor will most likely be in vain, but at least I will die trying, while hoping that maybe, in the future, someone else might achieve what I would've tried to. As such, unless time catches up to me, I cannot allow myself to die such a stupid death as being killed by a child no older than what my grandchildren should be."

"Please stop saying it this way; it makes me feel even worse for having to run my tail between my legs after facing him."

In response to his comrade's words, Nikolai let out a self-derisive sneer.

"I pity Ymir, having to deal with that monster, but I also feel gratitude toward him, for I have the feeling that it will soon be our turn."

"I do too."

But at least for now, he is saving us all time. As of now, whatever Altair is up to, he has already granted us more than a month. Who knows how much more time he can earn us?

"Wanna place a bet on whether it will be days, weeks, or months?"

"This bet is of an appalingly bad taste, but if I took one to bet on, it would be days."

"Pessimists, aren’t we? Though I was planning to do the same, I suppose I'm now stuck with the option of weeks."

"If you did, then... I suppose this bet sold out with my win."

"What do you mean—" Ainsley, following his comrades' gaze toward the horizon, was taken aback by a powerful ripple that just reached them, shaking the entire building."

As they looked out at the rocky, scarred mountain range in front of them, they were horrified to see an entire mountain explode, sending shards of rock soaring into the air and collapsing in a cloud of ash. The sight of devastation was like nothing they had ever seen before the calamities themselves.

The ash cloud had not yet cleared when , in the distance, something human-silhouetted was spewed out like rocks by a volcano. As it crashed to the ground, it immediately began running towards the fortress, only to suddenly stop halfway there.

Though the distance didn't permit them to ascertain the silhouette’s face, they both understood what and especially who that thing was.

"Talk about an entrance. This deserves a proper welcome from our part, don’t you think?"

It was at that moment that a girl burst into the room, within which was the balcony on which the two of them stood.

"Lord Paladin, Lord Archbishop, have you seen that!"

"Yes, we did. Now, girl, go prepare the Avalon, it seems we'll be forced to use it today. And he provided us with the perfect opportunity by not slamming into the fortress in the first place."

"What?! That thing, is it the lightning calamity?"

"No, but consider it is. Girl, prepare everyone and do what must be done; we will do what is necessary, in other words, properly entertain our guests."

***

As both Fourteen arrived at the scene to, as they said, entertain their guest, who was sitting atop a boulder, he revealed a smile at their sight, unleashing upon them a rather sarcastic remark, "You almost made me wait, gentlemen."

"Sorry for that. But it's not like you appeared somewhere appropriate for us to come greet you right away."

"Oh my! It was my fault, I admit. In any case, it is a pleasure for me to meet the two of you again, especially you, Archbishop Ainsley. I’m glad you recovered well."

"Well, consider me very touched by your concern, Faceless One."

While this was Ansley's third encounter with the Faceless One, this was Nikolai's second encounter with the Faceless One and his first under this teenage appearance of his. The last time he'd seen the boy, he was only a young boy.

Despite looking exactly as Ainsley had described him, it was difficult for Nikolai to believe that this boy was at the center of almost all of the chaos the continent had gone through in the previous ten years.

While Nikolai had previously only remembered the Faceless One as a human-shaped mad beast from that night, he now appeared to be a young man of calm and reasonable containment, but his next words quickly dismantled that lingering impression.

Laughing as though there was something to mock, he explained, "I think I’ve spent too much time going along with this noble, royal, and courteous charade that it’s getting into my mind."

"That’s regrettable, I suppose."

Standing up from his boulder, he announced, "Gentlemen, I think you both already know what I’m here for. I'm here to send a message while you... try to kill me. With that made clear, I doubt there is any need for us to further waste time in futile discussion, and since you two look... ready, let’s just get done with all this bother."

"I couldn't agree more," agreed Nikolai, putting on the black helmet of the equally heavy battle armor he and Ainsley were wearing.

With shields, hammers, and armor geared up, both men looked at each other, their gazes already well hidden beneath their helmets, before exchanging a nod and striding resolutely toward the young man, who, unlike them, was dressed so lightly that it was as though he was out for some royal reception. Yet he, too, with a dread-inducing demeanor, strided toward the duo.