The city of Mosseira was like a shining jewel in the world of vice and luxury. You name it—casinos, brothels, slave markets, auction houses—it had everything that one with bad habits or a craving for thrill could ask for.

And yet, even with such a chaotic mix of entertainment and danger, the city worked perfectly.

That was because one of the great noble families managed it, keeping law and order with a firm grip. Without them, a place like this would've collapsed long ago.

Azhriel stepped down from the carriage, Zephyriah perched neatly on his shoulder like a quiet guardian.

The bustling center of the city stretched before him, full of noise, colors, and all kinds of shady people.

Just as Caelyn was about to step out behind him, Azhriel silently raised a hand toward her.

Caelyn blinked, then smirked.

"Heh, didn't expect you to have a gentleman's side."

She took his hand and stepped out lightly.Azhriel's answer also came smoothly.

"I'd call it a noble's decorum, more than a gentleman's side, you know."

Caelyn clicked her tongue.

"Now, that's a way to ruin the moment."

Azhriel glanced at her.

She was… different.

Not what he had imagined.

Back in the game, Caelyn had always been described as an anomaly—someone unpredictable, strange, and difficult to read.

Her character was cloaked in mystery, and rarely did she speak more than a few lines at a time.

But now?

Here she was, walking beside him with that ever-serene expression, her droopy eyes calm, her tone relaxed, speaking more than she ever had.

She almost looked like an ordinary noble girl—if you didn't look too deeply.

It was surprising.

But not unpleasant.

In fact… Azhriel found that he liked it.

There was something oddly satisfying about discovering a new side to characters he once only watched from a screen.

It made the world feel a little more alive.

A little more real.

And that brought a quiet joy that he didn't expect.

As they walked through the bright streets, Azhriel and Caelyn took in the sights of Mosseira with quiet interest.

Azhriel didn't usually go out much—his days were mostly spent training, studying, or completing tasks at the academy.

And as for Caelyn… well, if it wasn't about her training or food, she'd rather stay asleep than go sightseeing.

The whole city was bathed in a warm, golden glow.

The street lamps, powered by polished mana stones, glimmered brighter than any street light one might see back on Earth.

They cast a soft yellow and orange light across the walkways, making everything seem dreamlike.

Mosseira was alive and buzzing.

Shops and stalls lined both sides of the road, their colorful banners swaying gently in the evening breeze.

Vendors called out to passing customers, offering sweet cakes, potions, glowing charms, and everything else one could imagine.

Laughter echoed through the air, mixed with the sound of chatter and coins exchanging hands.

It looked peaceful. Like any other happy, festive city.

But both Azhriel and Caelyn knew better.

Behind the glow of wealth, behind the polished stone roads and happy voices, Mosseira hid a darker truth.

One only the people who lived here truly understood. There were shadows in this city.

Old and dangerous.

As they passed by a large fountain, they saw water shoot upward and fall back in colorful streaks that sparkled like a rainbow mist.

Children ran around the fountain, giggling as they splashed each other with the glowing drops.

Azhriel paused for a second.

He watched them.

Their laughter, their joy—pure, innocent.

But then, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Up ahead, walking in formation, was a group that stood out even in this crowd.

They wore armor made of wood and metal, the design elegant yet sturdy. But this wasn't normal wood.

It shimmered faintly, glowing in a way that suggested it wasn't just some normal wood and iron.

Their faces were sharp and graceful, their long pointed ears giving away their identity as easily as it could.

Elves.

And not just any elves.

Azhriel's gaze sharpened as he noticed the emblem on their armor—a silver tree wrapped in runic vines.

The Crest of the World Tree.

These were the royal guards. The soldiers who directly protects the royal family.

'Elves? In Mosseira? That's strange,' Azhriel thought. His steps slowed just slightly—only for a second—too short for Caelyn to notice.

'And not just any elves. These are from the royal family's personal guard. So is someone from the Elven Royalty is here…?'

His mind raced.

Something about this didn't felt right.

'Is this another deviation from the game's original story?' he muttered under his breath.

He said nothing more as they continued walking.

Soon, they reached their destination—

The café was large and cozy, tucked between two tall buildings.

Soft music drifted through the air, and warm lanterns hung above the doorway, glowing gently like floating fireflies.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread spread out onto the street, giving the place a calm and welcoming feel.

But even as they stepped inside, Azhriel's thoughts weren't there.

His mind lingered on the group of elves he'd seen earlier. Their presence in Mosseira didn't make sense.

Azhriel opened his mana band, the faint blue screen flickering to life around his wrist. His fingers moved quickly as he typed a short message.

"Do you know what the elves are doing here?" he sent to Phantom.

A soft ding echoed a few moments later—barely enough time for him to sit down at their reserved table before the reply came.

"I guess they caught your sight too. Yeah, I got word that some Royal Guards are in the city. But I don't know much about the reason yet."

Azhriel leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing at the screen.

Royal Guards never left the capital without purpose. Whatever brought them to Mosseira—it wasn't something small atleast.

"Then, I can rule out the possibility that they aren't here for the auction?" Azhriel asked, his tone calm but his eyes focused.

"Yes," Phantom's message came through the communication link. "Their names would've appeared in the list I sent you if they were participants."

"I see," Azhriel muttered, leaning back in his chair slightly. "Fine. Let me know the moment you find out why they're here."

"Yes, boss."

The message faded, and just as Azhriel was about to look up, a voice came from across the table.

"Isn't it rude to leave a lady waiting?" Caelyn said, her tone teasing but her expression as calm as ever.

Zephyriah sat on her lap, looking around curiously at the polished tables, soft golden chandeliers, and the faint hum of mana lamps that gave the café a gentle glow.

Azhriel blinked, realizing he'd been too focused. "Ah, sorry. It was something important," he said with a small smile. "You can order whatever you like."

At his signal, a waitress in a neat black-and-white uniform came over, bowing slightly. "Are you ready to order, sir?"

"Yes," Azhriel replied, gesturing toward Caelyn. "Whatever the lady wants."

"Hm, let's see now…" Caelyn murmured, flipping through the menu with slow precision, as though the fate of the world depended on which dessert she picked.

Her eyes scanned every line, every illustration, before she finally closed it with a soft snap.

"Bring two slices of everything," she said plainly.

The waitress blinked, clearly caught off guard. "E-Everything?" she repeated, looking down at the thick menu that easily held more than sixty different desserts.

"Yes," Caelyn said, not even glancing up, her attention instead on Zephyriah, who was now pawing at the tablecloth with fascination. "Is there a problem?"

"N-No, ma'am! Of course not!" The waitress straightened instantly. "And for you, sir?"

"Just coffee," Azhriel replied casually. "Make it strong."

The waitress quickly scribbled the order and hurried away, no doubt wondering how anyone could eat all that sugar and survive.

Azhriel smirked slightly. "Wow, look at you. Not even considering my 'poor commoner' status before ordering the entire menu."

Caelyn looked at him with a small shrug. "Yes, a 'commoner' attending one of the biggest auctions in the continent, worried about affording cake. How very tragic."

Azhriel chuckled under his breath. "Fair point."

Within minutes, five waiters and waitresses arrived, each carrying large trays stacked with plates.

The aroma of chocolate, fruit, cream, and caramel filled the air as they arranged everything neatly on the table.

"Cakes!" Zephyriah's voice chimed happily, her azure sliver eyes lighting up like twin stars as she looked at the colorful mountain before her.

Meanwhile, Caelyn had already started eating.

She didn't even hesitate—her fork moved quickly, cutting through one dessert after another with the precision of someone who had done this many times before.

Her cheeks puffed slightly as she ate, a faint blush of delight coloring her face. She looked calm as always, but her mouth was full—like a hamster storing food.

Azhriel leaned his head on his hand, quietly watching her, while sipping his coffee. "How very adorable," he said his tone amused.

"Mm?" Caelyn looked up with wide eyes, her fork halfway to her mouth, cheeks full.

"Nothing," Azhriel said with a small laugh. "Just… enjoy."

Zephyriah giggled, nibbling on a piece of strawberry cake that Caelyn had given her.