15 Days Until the Mission Deadline…
Frey Starlight collapsed unconscious before both the princess and Oliver Khan.
Without hesitation, Sansa rushed to tend to him, doing what she could to stop the bleeding.
"He's lost a lot of blood… was all of this really necessary?" she asked.
"He broke the law. And he's paid the price."
It was necessary. Frey understood that well ... that much had become clear to the masked Warden during their brief encounter.
That confrontation had been more psychological than physical. Frey was capable of so much more, yet he allowed Oliver to wound him without much resistance.
In doing so, Frey conveyed his willingness to cooperate… to remain on the Grand Warden's good side. If he'd resisted in earnest, their clash could've brought the entire castle down.
Oliver ultimately decided to allow Frey to meet the princess again ... though only under his watchful eye.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this would help pull her out of her growing darkness.
That was the thought on Oliver's mind as he carried Frey's battered body to the front gate .. the very place where the young man had previously taken down two elite guards.
Oliver's Spirit Domain extended across the entire Moon Castle. And if necessary, he could expand it further, at the cost of tremendous aura consumption.
Nothing happened within his range without him knowing.
And yet, instead of returning to his usual post at the princess's side, Oliver turned toward a different destination.
Moving faster than even Madam A could track, he darted toward one of the most shadowed corners of the Valerion Province.
Within the suffocating dark, only the faint crimson glow of his eyes lit the way.
He stood still, gaze fixed on a single point in space.
"Show yourself."
His voice, calm as ever, carried a rare undercurrent of impatience.
And in response, a figure emerged from the gloom.
A shimmer of green light slid over the man's frame, gradually revealing him.
Tall, robed in black, and wearing a steel helm, the man stared back at Oliver with piercing pale green eyes.
"Your instincts are as sharp as ever."
The mechanical tone in his voice and the way he masked his presence left no doubt.
It was him.
Mist Umbra—the current Master of the Shadow Court.
"Seems your injury's healed up well."
Mist had taken a direct hit from Astaroth during the Empire's failed assault on the Ultras Continent. It had sidelined him for a long time .. but now the Empire's deadliest assassin had returned.
Mist and Oliver. Both silent by nature, neither particularly fond of pleasantries. The air between them was tense, heavy.
"What do you want?"
"The princess."
"I'm handling it."
"Are you?"
Mist circled him slowly.
"There have been signs. Many signs. And what have you done about them?"
Oliver remained silent.
"Nothing," Mist answered for him. "You've done nothing. You let emotion cloud your judgment, too blinded to act on even the simplest of truths."
The pressure between them thickened. Two SS ranked Awakened in one place wasn't something the land could take lightly.
"Did you really come here just to spout self-righteous nonsense?" Oliver asked, his tone edged with irritation.
"I came to tell you this: if you won't deliver the final blow, someone else will."
"I said I'm handling it. Are you planning to interfere with the contract I made with Maekar?"
The name dropped like a stone.
Mist hesitated for a brief moment ... but didn't falter.
"I don't know what agreement you struck with the Emperor. But it's time you started acting like yourself."
He stepped closer, until they stood face-to-face.
"Act like the assassin we trained you to be."
Mist's words tugged at buried memories ... ones Oliver had long cast aside.
"I no longer serve the Shadow Court."
"You can't run forever."
"Oh, I can. And if the Court wants my head… let them come take it."
Oliver brushed past him, voice low and deadly.
"If the Court comes after me, blood will be spilled. But whose blood… that's still undecided."
Mist said nothing. He wasn't ready ...not to challenge the man who was once his rival… and his friend.
"She's dangerous, Oliver," he warned, voice quieter now. "Open your eyes… before it's too late."
A final warning. Maybe even a last mercy.
"I told you ... I'm handling it."
"You'd better be."
With those words, Mist vanished entirely, leaving behind only a hazy afterimage of his aura.
Oliver didn't bother looking his way. He simply walked off in silence.
No one knew what was running through his mind as he pulled out an old pendant from his coat .. a delicate silver chain with an oval gem at its center.
He opened it.
Inside was a carefully preserved photograph. A woman in her prime, golden-haired with radiant amber eyes.
She looked just like Sansa, back when she was still full of life. Only older. More refined.
It was her mother.
Oliver gazed at the image for a moment, then closed the locket with renewed resolve.
That night, he continued what he had always done… until the very end.
…
…
…
– Frey Starlight's POV –
10 Days Until the Mission Deadline
Five days had passed since I started visiting Sansa every morning.
Five days spent chatting for hours, waiting for something—anything—to happen. But so far, the only thing I gained was more hostile glares from Oliver Khan, who clearly regretted agreeing to my daily visits.
He must not have expected this outcome when he allowed it.
I kept thinking the direct advice's impediment would strike soon. But everything went… smoothly.
As if that future I had glimpsed never existed.
I sat in my room, still mulling over the cursed mission dropped on me like a noose.
Was this really it? Just talk to the princess for ten more days?
I tapped against my desk's worn wooden surface ... God knows how many times I've replaced it after smashing it to splinters.
It was midnight, and I couldn't sleep no matter what I tried.
No matter how much I replayed it, what I saw in that future vision… was a demon.
An entity far too powerful to be human.
Humans weren't supposed to host things like that ... not yet, at least.
There was a concept, far in the future, of people becoming vessels for demons… but that wasn't supposed to happen any time soon.
If what happened to Sansa was the same case—
Then her salvation was literally impossible.
And I couldn't do anything to stop it.
I found myself standing at a dead end.
Utterly helpless, with nothing left but to wait. Wait… and hope.
And hope was such a cursed thing.
But even with the little I had left, I decided to use everything at my disposal.
I opened the system interface and checked the affection-based abilities ... especially the one tied to Third-Person Perspective.
Thankfully, Sansa's affection points had already reached 50, unlocking the deeper version of the skill.
This time, I wanted to go further ... see what she saw.
Maybe it would bring me closer to the truth.
I took a deep breath and activated the Third-Person Pov… bracing myself for whatever came next.