Two days passed in the royal castle of Britain. Mateo and Nai were treated with all due courtesy, yet the heavy air of the coming war never truly let them relax.​

The king assigned each of them a personal bodyguard. For Mateo, there was Rhalek — a tall, stern man with sharp, calculating eyes. For Nai, an agile, keen warrior named Fijodepute — a strange name, perhaps, but one she was already beginning to respect for the way he carried himself.

On the last evening before their mission, Mateo and Nai met in the castle gardens. The sky was painted in shades of orange and purple, and a gentle wind stirred the leaves.

“Everything’s going to be fine, Nai,” Mateo said, trying to sound confident, though the tightness in his chest betrayed his fear.

“You too, Mateo,” she answered, locking eyes with him. “We have to make it through this. It’s the only way to end this war for good.”

They embraced briefly — a simple gesture, yet heavy with meaning. They were more than allies now; they were family.

Nai reached Duke Salazar’s harbor under the pale light of dawn. The salty air mixed with the bitter smell of burning coal from the anchored ships.

Fijodepute stood at her side in silence, watching everything with trained eyes.

“If we just sit around waiting for ships to dock, we’ll waste time,” Nai said, weighing the risks. “I’ll try something more direct.”

She decided he would stay on watch by the bay, keeping an eye out for any suspicious movement, while she attempted to infiltrate the duke’s manor.

The mansion was colossal, encircled by high walls and towers rising like threatening sentinels. Its gleaming façade stood in stark contrast to the ominous atmosphere surrounding it.

Nai circled the estate, searching for a gap — an open window, a blind spot in the patrols — but every approach seemed impossible.

Until her gaze landed on the massive stone chimney rising from the manor, smoke billowing into the cold morning air.

“If I can’t go through the front door, I’ll come in from the top,” she murmured.

With agile, precise movements, she climbed the damp outer wall, every shift of her weight calculated to remain silent. Reaching the chimney’s rim, she spotted a narrow opening leading down into the manor.

With a well-aimed jump, she slipped inside, dropping into a service corridor and landing in a cloud of dust and cobwebs.

For a moment, her whole body trembled with adrenaline and discomfort. Her black dress was filthy now, dust smeared across her face and hands.

The room she had fallen into was a sitting room — elegant, with antique furniture, plush carpets, and crystal chandeliers that caught the faint morning light.

Moving like a shadow, Nai slipped through hallways and chambers, forcing her heartbeat to steady so it wouldn’t betray her.

She passed through more than twenty rooms, each one impeccably decorated, yet with no sign of what she sought.

Just as she decided to retreat through the chimney, something caught her attention.

Stepping over a Persian rug, she heard a hollow sound beneath the floorboards, different from the rest of the room.

Curious, she carefully pulled the rug aside and uncovered a trapdoor.

Her whole body tensed. She hesitated — but instinct won.

Slowly, she lifted the hatch and saw a staircase descending into darkness.

She took a candle from a nearby room, lit it with care, and began to go down.

The stench of mold, dampness, and decay wrapped around her.

At the bottom, she found a small room, lit only by a weak yellow light.

On a table, piles of yellowed, scribbled papers were stacked high, crammed with notes and cryptic symbols.

The silence was absolute, broken only by the occasional drip of water hitting the cold floor.

She leafed through the documents, her eyes racing over words and phrases that revealed far more than she had imagined.

Nothing about weapons or trafficking — but instead, twisted, meticulous plans.

“First step of the plan” — crossed out, the letters heavy and ominous.

“Spread agents across the entire kingdom of Britain” — also crossed out.

Nai swallowed hard as a cold understanding sank in.

“Second step: agents infiltrated into the royal family” — crossed out.

The plan was already underway.

“Third step: assassinate the entire royal family. In exchange, I will seize economic control of the kingdoms of Huwofin and Britain.”

Nai shut her eyes for a moment, letting the magnitude of that betrayal wash over her.

Without hesitation, she gathered the papers and tucked them away.

Just before she turned back to the stairs, a shiver crawled over her skin, and she looked toward a dark corner of the room.

There, the dripping wasn’t water — it was blood, falling in slow, horrible drops.

As she stepped closer, her eyes widened.

Bodies lay piled up — many of them — faces mangled, eyes frozen open, their deaths violent and silent.​

The suffocating stench nearly made her retch.

On the floor nearby, another table sagged under more documents, but Nai could no longer bring herself to touch any of it.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

It was time to run.

She rushed up the stairs, doing her best not to make a sound.

But as she emerged from the trapdoor, soldiers were already waiting in the room.

Without thinking, she drew her sword.

The metallic ring of steel unfolding cut through the air.

The guards lunged, but Nai moved like a phantom.

With precise slashes and swift strikes, she cut down two of them, her exhausted body finding new strength in a surge of adrenaline.

The fight was brutal.

She slipped past blows, parried strikes, and countered with lethal cuts — leaving behind broken bodies and choked-off screams.

She dashed for the now-open main door, riding the chaos.

Outside, dozens of guards poured after her.

As she sprinted toward the harbor, sweat streamed down her face, her lungs burning.

She spotted Fijodepute — but his body lay torn apart, his face twisted by the hatred of those who had killed him.

Despair crashed over her.

But she could not stop.

She ran on until only the dark, cold sea stretched out before her.

The guards slowly closed in, tightening the noose.

An arrow sliced through the air and buried itself in her arm.

For an instant, Nai was sure it was the end.

Then everything changed.

A soft light began to glow from within her, warm and soothing.

Her healing blessing awakened, shining brightly.

The arrow was pushed out of her arm as if it had never belonged there.

The wound sealed over, leaving not even a scar behind.

Renewed, she rose to her feet, eyes blazing with resolve.

Ready to face anyone who dared to come at her.

The soldiers charged in a wave, surrounding her.

She moved with lethal grace.

Every swing of her blade was a display of speed and precision.

Swords and spears lunged for her, but she slipped between them, counter-striking in return.

An arrow flew at her; she leaned aside and cut clean through the archer’s bow.

The clash of steel, the cries of the wounded, and the frantic rhythm of battle filled the air.

Even wounded, Nai seemed untouchable.

Her blessing kept her standing, knitting cuts and gashes almost as soon as they formed.

When the last shadow fell to the ground, she let out a long breath — exhausted, but victorious.

Without wasting a second, she seized a small boat at the harbor.

She rowed hard until she reached a safe distance, somewhere she could rest and decide her next move.

The future was uncertain, but Nai knew one thing for sure: this battle was only the beginning.