"Your old friends? You haven't changed a single bit, always rushing. For now, rest up here, and we can discuss your next move." Draven cleared the plates, cups, and snacks from the table with a swipe of his hand. His master placed him atop Erden and led them inside, the familiar dim torches illuminating the black stone halls.

"At least this place has been maintained in my absence." Draven traced his finger along the wall, held it to his face, and rubbed it with his thumb. He nodded in satisfaction and carried on.

Still immobilized on Erden, Oscar noticed a few familiar statues and recollected the path they were on, the way to his old room and the fabricator workshop where he first learned how to craft an armament. His master pushed a heavy stone door open and allowed Erden to enter first. The room hadn't changed since his last stay, seeing the same old mattress with no frame, the only item inside. Erden leaned and rolled Oscar's body onto the mattress, and Oscar indulged in the soft comfort underneath, far better than the ones in the prison.

"Rest now. I'll wake you for breakfast tomorrow." Draven stepped out, then turned back. "I'm glad you're back, disciple."

"I'm glad you're here, master," Oscar replied as Erden dragged a blanket over him using his teeth. His master closed the door tightly, allowing Oscar and Erden to have a moment of blissful rest, one he sorely needed after the long month of imprisonment and torture. He found himself staring at the old ceiling he lived under for a time, a smile stretching from ear to ear as a numbing joy closed his eyes and lulled him to sleep.

"Finally, he's asleep. What an idiot you are." Erden laid down next to the mattress, crossing his front hooves to make a place for his chin to rest on. Peering deep into Oscar's heart and soul, he sighed in relief at the tears slowly patching up, like wounds naturally healing. He closed his eyes and muttered, "All's well that ends well."

The next morning, Oscar rose from his bed and stretched everything from his neck to his feet, several cracks sharply calling from his released joints. His body seemed to have no problems, not a finger out of control. But something else teemed through his body, a rejuvenating sensation that swam through his veins, warmed his muscles, and gave his skin a healthy complexion. Enlivened by the feeling of renewal, Oscar wandered out into the halls with Erden, his strides long and quick. He couldn't believe how light his feet were, almost as if he was weightless.

"My shoulders are so relaxed. I wonder what happened? Did you do something, Erden?" Oscar yawned, petting his friend's head.

"It's the first real break we got since we returned to your home. You always rush in without regard for yourself. I wish sometimes you took the time to relax." Erden chided.

"I agree with Erden. It is unbecoming of you." Draven somehow appeared behind him, and Oscar whipped his head around, shocked he couldn't even sense an iota of a presence, Ein, or aura beforehand. His face soon fell at his master's words, and he scratched his cheek in embarrassment. Draven scoffed and said, "Follow me. Breakfast is ready."

Oscar followed his master into the banquet hall, passing by a large grandfather clock along the way and noting the current time. It was only mid-morning, a few hours before noon, much later than his usual wake-up time. His stomach grumbled loudly, practically begging Oscar for sustenance. Turning a corner, Oscar nearly drooled at the sight of the familiar set of doors for the banquet hall. His feet acted first, dragging him in forceful steps, and became more unruly as the smell of freshly cooked eggs, baked bread, and meats wafted over from the door.

"I'm hungry." Oscar swung the doors wide open, then halted, his feet firmly planted right outside the room. The unusual pair standing by the table of sparkling and delicious plates of food elicited a simple grunt from him. Aunt Rosett smiled widely and waved her hand, dressed casually in a simple long skirt and a brown vest over her wide-sleeve shirt. Aunt Ward nodded to Oscar and gave him a small, repressed smile fit for the stoic Grand Commander of the Pavilion's forces. She wore the army uniform, a ceremonial type, with a collared blue jacket, a cape bearing the Pavilion's emblem, and long white pants.

"What are you two doing here?" An enraged voice grated on his eardrums, sending shivers down to the ends of his hair. His master pushed him aside gently, his feet stomping and cracking the tiles underneath. Right now, he couldn't move, not against the dangerous Ein spreading from his master.

"We fought hard to free you. I believe a celebratory breakfast is required." Aunt Rosett claimed a seat on the table.

"I'm only here to check up on your condition. It just so happens I haven't eaten yet." Aunt Ward claimed the seat opposite Rosett, speaking calmly yet firmly.

"Let's go, disciple. We're not eating here." Draven rejected them coldly, but the two slammed their hands on the table and stared at Oscar, their gazes trembling, even Aunt Ward's. He understood their meaning.

Targeted by their wordless pleas and requests, Oscar twitched, unsure if his master would listen to him. Their faces grew increasingly saddened as Draven slowly walked away. Unable to bear their urging, Oscar turned and said, "Can't we eat here?"

"The food is spoiled." Draven blatantly insulted them without hesitation, his steps unhindered for even a moment.

A nonexistent chill swept across the room, and Oscar was speechless, his master's growing isolation worrying him. It couldn't stay like this. Oscar moved swiftly and sat down with Aunt Ward and Aunt Rosett. He started to eat without waiting for his master to return or the others to start, glancing from the two near him to his master. Gulping down the food, Oscar washed his throat with some juice and said, "It's not spoiled at all."

His master stared directly at him. Oddly, he found the gaze somewhat similar to the hollow one from the Sweeper in the Rurin Gaols, a cold, indifferent, maddened gaze. After a few seconds, Draven disappeared from his sight and reappeared at the head of the table, sitting elegantly with a straight back. "Fine. If that's what you want to eat."

Aunt Rosett gave him a small thumbs-up, showing her gratitude by filling Oscar's plate with food. Aunt Ward let out a small chuckle and refilled his cup. All the while, his master gave them both a chilling stare, but they didn't seem to mind at all. Caught in the most awkward breakfast of his life, Oscar avoided speaking a word as anything might light the fuse.

"Looks like everyone is gathered here. Mind if we join in?" A voice echoed suddenly, and Oscar's face fell, and he almost choked on his food. The breakfast was awkward enough, but there was no reason for the Pavilion Master to come here.

Raising his head, exhausted despite being a morning after a long rest, Oscar widened his eyes in shock and rushed out of his seat. The tiredness disappeared, and he hugged his two friends tightly, raising them as he swayed from left to right. "I'm glad you both are well! I was worried seeing the state you both were in."

"Ouch! Let us go, Os! My body's still not fully recovered!" Fred gasped.

"I can endure. This is nothing." Emily said, her voice strained, and her face flushed red.

"Sorry. It's just good to see you two again." Oscar let them go and helped them sit by the table, patting their backs and filling their plates with food. Remembering the other guest, he faced the Pavilion Master and bowed, "Greetings, Pavilion Master."

"Good morning, my grand disciple. I came here to congratulate you and partake in this delicious feast." Remulus said warmly before taking a seat.

"Why is everyone intruding on my prison?" Draven swirled the tea in his hand, but cracks spread over the cup, dripping tea onto the saucer. He spoke in almost a bestial growl, "I want nothing to do with you all. Leave this place."

"Technically, the prison is under my rule. I give everyone here permission to come and go as they please." Remulus seemed to have recovered from yesterday's argument, no longer averting his eyes away from Draven but meeting him with a smile. "I will atone for my wrongdoings, starting by rewarding your disciple with what he deserves." He controlled two vials of clear liquid to float over to Oscar's hands. "Two diluted drops of extract from the Divine Essence. Very rare and useful. I'm not sure if it will fulfill your needs."

Oscar held the two vials, so small and fragile, yet his hands grew stiff from carrying them, the dense Ein weighing down like a mountain. And these were the diluted drops, not even the pure concentrated extract. If he received the pure ones instead, he feared his body might crumble apart from being close to such a dense Ein. Oscar stored them away and thanked the Pavilion Master.

"There will be more rewards later for the resources you brought back and the blueprints for Garantulem and Gunghir. I'll pay you for every other blueprint you give us." Remulus glanced around the room to the nods of Aunt Rosett and Aunt Ward. "Then we are agreed."

"Double." His master stated, tapping his empty, clean plate. "You'll pay him double what he might normally get."

"Fine. Double it is." Remulus agreed immediately. "Anything else?"

"Get out," Draven said, pointing up.

"Not now. We have other discussions that must be had. Frederick Klein, Emily Nevena, report to them what you have told me." Remulus gestured for one of them to start.

Fred spoke first, and Oscar listened, mouth gaping open as he learned about the mysterious Marshal Exalt who controlled the Sweeper. Emily recounted her battle against the unknown twin-pony-tailed girl who also masqueraded as a prisoner. It all became clear after she explained the use of Reis and the strange changes that occurred on the girl's face, the typical side effects of using the Reis Core.

"Are they the New Dawn you mentioned?" Remulus, bearing a heavy furrow on his brow, frowned deeply.

"No doubt about it. It matches their motives. I did find it strange that they organized daily fighting between prisoners. Perhaps they used it to find suitable candidates for Reis training." Oscar could see their hand in all of it. He faced Frederick and Emily and said in disbelief, "I'm impressed the two of you didn't die."

"I still lost against that brat. I can't forgive the humiliation she gave me." Emily clenched her hands, bending the utensils in her grip.

"A second later, I would have died. That Sweeper is too dangerous. It grew stronger and smarter as we fought." Fred looked at his bandaged arms. "The wounds it inflicted take a while to heal."

"You mentioned they gave it blood and flesh…chances are they used mine." Draven broke another tea cup and replaced it with another

"From Oscar's report, the envoys went to Convecia to secure an alliance with the New Dawn. But it seems they're also hidden in the ranks of the empires. They might even be in our midst." Remulus rubbed his bald head, clearly in distress.

"Some might have means to resist truth potions and interrogation. If we try to clean them up, they will be alarmed." Aunt Ward sounded tired.

"I am entrusting everyone here to keep it a secret. Elder Saul and I will work to uncover any New Dawn spies. I've already informed old Caires about it." Remulus referred to the Dragnar Ancestor, the other King Exalt and Celestina's ancestor. "For now, Oscar, what do you want to do? The enemy that Draven let go will certainly let the others know that you are back."

"Can I leave and meet up with my old friends? Let me lead a small force, and I can go to every battlefield and assist them while I inform them about my survival." Oscar asked.

"Granted. Who are you going to meet first?" Remulus smiled.

"The closest of the farthest is her, isn't it?" Fred raised an eyebrow, and Oscar knew that look, resonating with the awkwardness his friend radiated, particularly because the person he mentioned was the one he had the hardest time thinking about what to say to her.

"You'd have to come to terms with it sooner or later. When are we heading out?" Emily spoke bluntly as always.

"Alright. Let's go see Celestina."