In the Armand region.
Armand Estate.
The great manor’s atmosphere was tense. Outside, soldiers and maids moved with purpose, the sound of boots striking the stone courtyard echoing like a drumbeat of war.
Inside the grand hall, Garius stood in his battle uniform, a heavy, dark coat reinforced with magic-lined plates. His twin swords, each etched with runes only he could read, rested across his back, humming faintly with mana.
Erinnette stood nearby, her elite battle-maid uniform perfectly fitted, every strap and buckle secured. A concealed dagger glead faintly at her thigh, while her main weapon, a halberd longer than she was tall, leaned against the wall within arm’s reach.
Alf, dressed in his own black battle attire, adjusted the cuffs of his gloves before sliding a slim, deadly blade into the sheath at his waist. Dozens of hidden weapons were already concealed within his uniform, ready to be drawn in an instant.
"My lord," Alf asked respectfully, his tone steady, "are you certain you will go to the battlefield?"
"Yes, Alf... I’m sure." Garius’s voice carried no hesitation.
Erinnette’s eyes narrowed . "This ans we will no longer be able to avoid direct confrontation with Edmund, my lord."
"Yes..." Garius said, fastening the last strap on his gauntlet. "I believe so."
While he was still preparing, a soft knock ca at the door.
"Co in," Garius said.
The door opened, and Francesca stepped inside. Her serene smile and graceful presence seed to calm the room despite the tension hanging over it.
"Dear—" she called softly.
"Yes, my love?" Garius replied, his tone gentler with her.
Francesca walked toward him, her steps unhurried, and began adjusting the folds and straps of his battle uniform with practiced care.
"I’m sure Giddie is excited too," she said lightly.
Garius gave a faint chuckle. "If he’s anything like last ti, he’s probably already restless."
Francesca’s hands paused on his collar for a mont, her eyes eting his.
"I will be going with you."
"No, Francesca... you should stay inside the house," Garius said, a note of worry in his voice.
She chuckled softly. "Do you think I’m weak?"
"No... I know you’re strong—like —but..."
Before he could finish, Francesca pressed a finger gently to his lips. "I am your wife. Where my husband goes, I will go. In our youth, we fought those Celestials together... and now, it’s our ti to face this Edmund. This is also my region, Garius. My ho."
He studied her for a long mont, his expression a mix of pride and concern. "Are you sure, Francesca?"
"I’m sure," she replied with a faint, confident smile. "And this ti... no holding back."
"But it’s dangerous," Garius said firmly. "We both know the Celestial this ti isn’t the sa as the ones we fought back then."
Francesca only smiled, leaning up to press her lips softly against his. "That’s exactly why I said... no more holding back~"
He held her gaze. "Are you sure, Francesca?"
"Yes~" she replied without hesitation. "Now, instead of fighting over this, we should be preparing."
Garius exhaled slowly, knowing there was no changing her mind. "...Francesca... at least wear an armor."
"Oh?" Her lips curved into a playful smirk. "I am wearing it now. My dress... the sa one I wore when we fought the Third and Fourth Celestial."
Garius’s right eye glimred faintly as he activated its hidden ability, scanning Francesca from head to toe.
But the mont his gaze settled on her, his brow furrowed.
Inside his mind, thoughts churned with a mix of frustration and curiosity.
Even with this vision... I can’t tell.
Is that dress just a regular gown, or sothing far more dangerous?
The fabric’s texture shimred subtly in the dim light, every thread appearing ordinary to the naked eye, yet his instincts scread otherwise. No aura leaked from it, no trace of enchantnt could be detected. It was as if the fabric itself swallowed the truth, erasing signs that would betray its nature.
And yet, he rembered...
That day, years ago, when they faced the Third and Fourth Celestials together.
She wore this exact dress. It never tore, never stained, never yielded, even under the onslaught of magic that could tear through fortresses. She had moved through that battlefield with serene elegance, her gown flowing as though untouched by the chaos around her.
From that day until now, she had never once explained its origin.
Even after I’ve grown stronger... even after my sight can pierce the deepest illusions... this dress remains a mystery.
He tightened his jaw, his grip unconsciously brushing the hilt of his sword.
What exactly are you wearing, Francesca? And why... won’t you ever tell ?
"Ah, ah, ah..." Francesca’s smile deepened, warm and confident. She raised her finger and pressed it lightly against Garius’s lips, halting his words before they could form.
Her eyes narrowed playfully, yet there was a glint of knowing in them.
"Don’t be a naughty boy," she murmured, teasing.
"Scanning your wife with that eye of truth..." She leaned in slightly, her voice softening to a near whisper. "...will get you nowhere."
Her finger lingered on his lips, warm and steady, before she slowly drew it away, letting the silence between them speak.
"You can’t see it. You can’t know about it," she said with quiet finality, her words flowing like silk yet sharp as any blade. "And that is exactly how it will remain."
"At least tell about it," Garius murmured with a low chuckle.
Before Francesca could step away, his arms tightened around her waist, his chin resting comfortably on her shoulder. His warm breath brushed against her neck.
"Mmm~" His voice rumbled softly. "Slls nice..."
Francesca’s lips curved into a small smile. Without turning, she raised a hand and brushed her fingertips along his cheek. "Dear~" Her tone carried that gentle warning he knew well. "Don’t act like this in front of Alf and Erinnette."
Alf gave a short, polite cough, eyes fixed firmly ahead. Erinnette rely smirked faintly, saying nothing. They had seen this countless tis—how Garius would hold Francesca as if he never intended to let go, and how she never once pushed him away.
Francesca let out a soft laugh, tilting her head just enough for her hair to brush against his jaw.
"Now, now~ If we keep this up, we’ll never get anywhere."
"Mmm... just a little longer," Garius murmured, his arms refusing to loosen.
She exhaled in mock defeat. "Naughty~"
"Yes... I’m naughty for you~" His voice was low, almost playful, but the way his grip lingered betrayed how much he didn’t want to let her go.
A few steps away, Erinnette’s eyes softened. Without a word, she slipped her hand into Alf’s and leaned close enough for only him to hear.
"Let them have their mont," she whispered, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she glanced at him.
Alf t her gaze briefly before giving the faintest nod, understanding that in monts like this, even the battlefield could wait.
( End Of Chapter )
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