Falmerion certainly knew how to make an entrance.

The dragon crashed down from the roof. Viers imagined the scene from inside of the room was pretty amazing. Amazing, but deadly. The rest of the strike team followed suit. Unlike the outside, the walls of the fortress provided some protection from the wind and cold.

“We got in. Now we must find the power source of this thing and shut it down,” Prince Cassian said as he dismounted from his Devaze Vulture. The monster was of similar size to Rank 4 Falmerion.

“There’s a lot of ground to cover,” Princess Celestine said. “The main keep remains our best bet.”

The team tried to land closer to the important-looking building at the center but the magical defenses there prevented them. Even Falmerion couldn't get through. It made sense since the flying fortresses were equivalent to Rank 5 magical items. It wasn't simply a fort built on a floating glacier; there were magical defenses in place.

“Alternatively, we can kill the head honcho of this fort. In my experience, it always accomplishes something.”

Viers agreed with Prince Vadym’s suggestion. He had quite a bit of experience in this field.

“Your Highness, rescind your Arte for now. Falmerion’s big size is unsuitable for navigating the fort and you need to save your strength for the battle ahead,” Viers said to Croix who was looking in another direction.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll head back and assist White Swan. After that, I’ll provide support from the sky.”

Several objections were voiced immediately.

“White Swan can take care of herself. She has no intention of dying here and becoming a martyr. Our focus should be disabling the fortress. The sooner it is done, the better for her, us, and the duchy,” the white-masked Clarissa said.

Since the teammate of White Swan said so, Croix reluctantly agreed and Falmerion returned to his original size. He shook off his body to remove the snow sticking to his scales.

“Let’s go. There are several high-energy signals from the fort. These are most likely the power sources. We’ll begin with the closest one,” Prince Lutz said.

There were no objections. After the injured applied first aid, the strike team moved without delay. They all knew time was of the essence. Suddenly, the surroundings become twisted and blurry.

The team went full alert and activated their defensive Artes, some using AoE Artes like Prince Lutz. However, no attack came. The walls and floors transformed into another terrain. They were no longer in the place they were before. Instead, they were in a circular room with thirteen entrances or exits.

“What the hell?”

Multiple voices of concern were said.

“Pleased with yourselves, little chickadees?”

All eyes went to the source of the voice. In the room, there was now a man sitting on a throne-like chair. A man with a mix of red, blue, and white hair. He looked like a man in his early twenties but for Pathseekers, looks were often deceiving. He had a smug expression, crossed legs, and a glass in his hand.

They all had seen his face before, the face in the clouds.

“Rostov.”

“The Wet Blanket.”

“What do you want?”

“Here to gloat? Shameless, Level 5?”

Since the image was a bit blurry and shadowless, it was not the man himself but another projection. Receiving the taunts, Rostov looked even more pleased. He had a very punchable face right now.

“The howls of losers really bring out the taste of this vodka,” Rostov stirred his drink by circularly moving his glass. After he took a sip leisurely, he continued.

“Did you all think you’ve outwitted us? The soldiers, the dragons, they are but a front. Hehehe, how foolish you were, charging in head-on. Enjoy the trap crafted by Comrade Oleg.”

“Oleg the Maze?” Lutz frowned.

“Another of the Ten Tundra?”

“Counting on the Level 5 that is fighting Duke Valentine, there are three Level 5 in this battlefield?”

One of the knights brought forward the possibility and their morale took a blow.

“You’ll stay there until the battle is over, powerlessly. Thanks to my power, the duchess doesn't even know your predicaments. If they placed their hopes in you, they will be sorely disappointed, hehehe. Feel free to struggle but it will be futile since you are rats in a cage.”

Prince Vadym launched a shadow bolt at Rostov’s projection but it went through it like a mirage and didn't disappear. He clicked his tongue and began to talk with his siblings.

The strike team began exploring the area. There were thirteen narrow tunnels for coming and going; when someone sent a golem through one, the golem came out from another tunnel back to them. Some tried to break the pocket space they were in using various methods but none were successful so far.

As minutes passed, the dread began to creep in their hearts.

“I fear this space might be a true creation of Oleg the Maze as Rostov said. Whether the man himself is really here or not, ordinary methods won't work,” Lutz said calmly.

“We can't waste any more time,” Cassian sighed.

“Forbidden techniques then? The question is who’s willing to pay the price for an uncertain result. Even I am not confident my own will surely work,” Vadym looked irritated.

Stolen story; please report.

“The trap is sprung without interference, far too smoothly. I suspect Rostov is behind this. His moniker, the Blanket, should mean his ability to cover and hide something, like obscuring the fortresses from detection. The duke and duchess might really be oblivious to our situation,” Celestine said in a thinking pose.

The royals from the Grand Prix were contemplating using their trump cards but there was no certainty that it would guarantee them out from the spatial trap.

Ciel looked like she had something to say but Tinade the Level 4 maid whispered to her before she could act.

“Absolutely not.”

“But Master! Only I can-”

“Even your father cannot use a Divine Weapon without repercussions, let alone you. Just because you have it doesn't mean you should use it. Like the name said, it is not meant for mortal hands. If you always rely on it for a quick and easy way out, you’ll not grow and die early.”

“So I should do nothing!?”

“Calm yourself. Look at your comrade’s faces. Have they lost hope?”

Ciel looked around and saw that Tinade spoke true. The royals, Viers, and some others looked calm and collected.

“And do not underestimate your parents. Who can say they are truly oblivious? Sometimes, patience is the way, even when time is against us.”

Ciel didn't reply but accepted her master’s advice for now.

“...For now, let’s do what we can. I have a few ideas,” Cassian said.

“As do I. The more we destabilize the cage, the better our chances of getting out of here,” Croix added.

All five royals exchanged a nod and went back to their teams, trying their ideas.

“Good luck, chickadees~”

They ignored the mocking Rostov as they worked.

***

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, Prince. Our luck will turn for the better soon. We just need to wait.”

While Viers was working to destabilize the maze like the others, Viers also monitored the others, especially the royals and their team. Viers used his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop. The conversation between Prince Lutz and a female member of his team got his curiosity.

Her name is Pulamela if I’m not mistaken. Is her powers related to luck? Fascinating.

Cassian ordered his lesser beasts to navigate the tunnels, Vadym spread his darkness using a sword that he stabbed into the floor, and so on. Some Level 4 tried their Imaginary Domain but to no avail.

The cage was big enough for all of them to do all this without getting in the way of one another.

About fifteen minutes have passed, huh...

Truthfully, Viers was in a bind. He honestly thought the situation was quite dire. He already lost contact with Dia in the Biome so the spatial cage was formidable.

Should I say it is as expected of Level 5’s handiwork?

If the Divine Weapon in his or Ciel’s possession didn't work, other similarly drastic measures were required to break free. Viers saw no other way.

And yet, Viers showed no panic or agitation. In times like this, he had to stay calm. Like the others, he also prodded the maze in his own way to break free. His calm outlook dispelled the negative emotions in Boram and the girls of Team White.

Viers fakes it till he makes it.

The gears in his head stopped turning when he heard someone calling him from behind.

“Greetings, mighty and brave guy.”

He looked at the handsome young man in front of him and he looked around, thinking he was addressing someone else. Seeing nobody around, only then he replied.

“Are you talking to me?”

He nodded. “Avel, right? Prince Croix’s vassal and Ciel Valentine’s beloved. You are famous.”

“Your words are too kind. And you’re Princess Celestine’s teammate. Stratos Gaelos, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. And that’s one of the reasons I call you brave.”

“Ah, you’re a noble perchance? Apologies if my manner of speaking offends. A country bumpkin like me is unlearned in nobility etiquette.”

“See? That’s the thing. You are not afraid of those with higher status than you. You look them in the eye, not only Prince Croix and Miss Valentine.”

...What is this guy hinting at?

“That just means I’m socially inept then, not brave, young master Gaelos.”

“A man without courage couldn't become Miss Valentine's boyfriend,” Stratos shook his head with a smile.

Actually, she’s already my wife, give or take. Destined to fall in love with me too, if she hasn't already. All entirely her doing.

“I also picked the way you look at other people,” Stratos’ tone was friendly. “Your eyes resemble how powerful Pathseekers look at those weaker than them. Yes, not even Theus is worth considering in your eyes.”

“...You were there at the Emerith Grand Ball. I trust you are aware that I wish no enmity with Theus Mercea. I knew my position and gave my submission.”

“The self-slapping he made you do? That friend of mine did something dangerous for virtually no gain,” Stratos exhaled and smiled wryly with frowned eyebrows.

So you do understand.

“He’s proud of his family name and with Miss Valentine in the equation, things will be... heated between you two.”

Viers stayed silent. What do you really want to say, Stratos Gaelos?

“Don't go too far.”

Stratos said as if reading Viers’ mind. His face was smiling warmly but Viers sensed he was completely serious. Viers then realized this was Stratos drawing a line in the sand for his buddy.

“So Sir thinks a Level 3 bumpkin like me is a threat to a Level 3 from a ducal line like Sir Theus?”

“I called you mighty and brave earlier. The strong recognized another strong one. I know you are, no matter how many layers you put around yourself. That said, I. Am. Stronger.”

The three words he emphasized had pride and certainly in them. Based on his words, Viers surmised the Level 4 knew he was hiding his true Level.

“If you are that strong, Sir Stratos, might you be so kind as to break this spatial trap we are in?”

“I can break this cage anytime I want.”

“...Divine Item?”

“For this task, I don't need it.”

Viers was getting annoyed but he kept his emotions in check.

“Why haven't you broken us out then?”

“I believe there’s no need for me to take action. Good day, Mister Avel. I hope to see your valor in the battles to come.”

...Stratos Gaelos.

His back, the way he talked and walked, more than anything, his Victa that he kept under his flesh. As Viers expected, Stratos was strong. Perhaps he was telling the truth that he was able to break through the trap if he wished.

He’s a threat.

Viers wondered how many people in the Ball didn't buy his act of self-slapping to resolve enmity other than Stratos. Quite a few, surely.

Seeing there was no need for it anymore, Viers dispelled the sound barrier to prevent eavesdropping that he invoked early in the conversations with Stratos. Before he could think further about Stratos, an anomaly occurred.

“Oh fuck, what now!?”

The projection of Rostov panicked after getting a report from a subordinate. Immediately after that, there was a crack in space. A mighty force like gale struck them all. It felt like uncountable sharp objects slashing your skin. Viers had a vision of himself getting multiple slash wounds.

Many of them became weak in the knees, Viers was among those who resisted. Viers’ heart rate jumped in an instant.

From the crack in space a woman with long orange hair walked in from the outside. Sword in hand, she cast her gaze on the strike team who was too stunned to act.

“Hello,” she said warmly. “Sorry for the scare.”

“S-Sword Saint Fleur!” Ciel gasped.