Zeon strutted forward like some overconfident model, hips leading the way, hands tucked lazily in his coat pockets. His grin stretched wider as he neared the pulsing blue forcefield. "Just relax, kids. Uncle Zeon's got this."

The moment he stepped closer—

■••••WHIP!••••■

A sharp crack of blue energy lashed out like a living whip.

"Wha—?!" In a flash, Zeon yanked his jagged dagger from his side, the black blade hissing as it blocked the strike. Sparks sprayed. His boots screeched against the stone as he skidded backward, dagger smoking heavily.

He finally stopped, dagger half-melted, expression stunned. "What… the hell?"

Fran, already pressed tightly behind Dila's back, screamed, "S-SEE?! IT DOES EAT PEOPLE!!"

Dila didn't move. Her expression was as flat as a stone wall.

"So. You were saying it's safe." She folded her arms.

Zeon blinked, panting slightly as he lifted his charred dagger high like he was presenting a broken toy. Then… he smiled. "It was just a… love tap. Nothing serious."

Dila slowly raised an eyebrow.

And pointed.

"At the fire."

Zeon blinked.

Looked down.

His right sleeve was burning. A steady, growing flame.

"Ah."

Silence.

"AHHH!! HOT HOT HOT!!" Zeon started hopping in place like a panicked child, waving his arm wildly as he spun in circles, smacking at the flames with his free hand. His shadow flickered wildly in the glowing tunnel, making him look like a malfunctioning puppet.

Fran peeked from behind Dila, eyes wide, tail bristled straight.

Meanwhile, Dila's deadpan expression didn't shift. Her voice was cold as ice.

"…I'm starting to doubt that you're even a hero, let alone the strongest."

Zeon, mid-slap at his burning sleeve, glanced over with a sheepish grin, smoke curling from his arm.

"Don't lose faith now, Princess."

Dila rolled her eyes and sighed, louder than necessary. "Too late."

Then.

Zeon stared at the crackling blue forcefield, his smile now strained. "What... happened to this thing?" He tilted his head, dagger still smoking faintly in his hand. "This isn't right. It's… malfunctioning."

Dila narrowed her eyes. "Malfunctioning? You mean broken? You don't say."

Zeon's expression twitched, his shoulders sagging slightly. "No. Worse." He pointed the half-melted dagger at the field. "It absorbed my magic when it hit me. Like a leech. That wasn't supposed to happen."

Dila, unimpressed, leaned forward slightly, her chin tilting down, blue eyes sharp. "What happened to all that 'awesome power' of yours? Did it suddenly vanish?"

Zeon glanced sideways, sighing. "It's not like that." He flipped the dagger in his hand, shrugging. "If it slashes magic out of you, there's not much to flex."

From behind Dila, Fran whispered, "Told you… people-eater…"

Zeon finally turned, grinning nervously. "So... Princess." He scratched his neck with the blunt side of his dagger. "Little help?"

Dila, without hesitation, deadpanned, "Why would I help a criminal like hero?"

Zeon's grin widened. "Because you're desperate. And you really want to get inside. And I know you hate being stuck more than you hate me."

Dila's face twitched. She clenched her jaw, then sighed.

"...Fine."

She stepped forward.

A small pulse of light shimmered in the air as her left hand moved—calm. With a quiet hum, her Archane Staff materialized in her right hand, pulled directly from spatial storage. Fragments of pale blue magic circled the staff's head as the orbiting shards spun, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.

The air shifted. Even Fran blinked in awe.

Zeon's smirk twitched. "Now we're serious."

Inside Dila's mind, Nari's fragile voice chimed softly:

☆ Archane has been retrieved... Master... ☆

Dila spun the staff once, blue trails swirling in the air like threads of silk. Her expression darkened.

"Let's shut this thing down."

Suddenly, the air snapped. A sharp hum vibrated around them as the forcefield shifted.

From the upper edges of the blue barrier, a scanning beam ignited—a thin horizontal line of bright azure light. It swept down slowly, mechanical and cold, like a giant optical eye examining every inch of the corridor.

A sterile, robotic woman's voice echoed from nowhere, flat and emotionless:

"—Scanning...—"

The beam crossed Zeon first.

A dull beep.

"—Unknown entity. Entry: Denied.—"

Zeon froze, his eyes darting. "What the—? I'm denied?!"

The beam slid onward.

It passed over Fran, who clung tighter behind Dila.

Another cold beep.

"—Non-registered entity. Entry: Denied.—"

Fran shivered. "N-nyooo…"

Then the beam passed over Dila.

A sudden shift.

The line of light flashed green as it swept down her figure, from the tip of her silver-white hair to her boots.

"—Scan complete. Royal Authority DNA Verified. Entry: Granted.—"

Dila blinked. "...What?"

The robotic voice continued, emotionless:

"You may now enter."

For a moment, silence.

Then Zeon exploded. "Oh, COME ON!" His arms flailed in disbelief. "Why do you have permission, Princess?!"

Dila, still confused, looked at her own hands, then glanced at Zeon.

He threw up his arms. "Did someone revoke my damn clearance?! What is this?!"

Fran peeked around Dila's waist, eyes wide. "Maybe you're not important anymore, mister hero..."

Zeon groaned as he tossed his dagger upwards; it dissolved like mist, fading into his shadow magic. He rubbed his temples. "Maybe This kingdom hates me."

Dila's Archane staff slowly dematerialized from her hand as well, returning to her spatial storage with a soft shimmer.

The once-deadlocked forcefield in front of them finally reacted.

With a deep mechanical hum, the blue barrier dissolved, crumbling like sand against the wind, fragment by fragment. Lines of etched metal runes rotated and peeled apart like ancient clockwork, unlocking themselves layer by layer.

From behind, a massive hatch slid open with a smooth metallic hiss, revealing the inner chamber—blindingly white, sterile, almost surgical.

Fluorescent-like magic lamps illuminated the hallway ahead, reflecting sharply off polished rune-engraved stone and silver-lined walls.

Zeon stood there, deadpanned.

"...Royal privilege."

He kicked the floor softly.

"Figures."

Meanwhile, Dila still looked confused.

Fran only whispered.

"Woooow..."

As they continued walking, the corridor stretched endlessly forward—walls of gleaming silver lined with glass panels. Inside those thick glass walls, strange things floated in shimmering liquid: crystals pulsing faintly, herbs spinning slowly as if caught in zero-gravity, even fragments of what looked like broken weapons suspended like museum relics.

Dila's eyes widened slightly. "Wow... it's really... amazing down here."

Her voice echoed faintly in the sterile space.

"Welcome to the Sacred Vault of Inventions," Zeon said smugly, walking with his hands in his pockets. "Every rune, every crystal, every mistake... and every forbidden relic sits here."

Fran, however, wasn't listening. She had already plastered herself against the glass of one display case. Her blue eyes sparkled.

Inside that particular pod floated a dagger—a red jagged blade, with a handle of silver-black in color, pulsating faintly as if alive.

Fran's tail swayed wildly.

Her mind drifted.

—In her imagination—

She saw herself, clad in dark assassin light armor, standing heroically atop a mountain of defeated dragons. The biggest dragon of them all lay collapsed behind her, its gigantic head resting beside her boots. Flames burned in the background like a victory scene. In her hand, she held that floating dagger, her tiny body dramatically backlit like a legendary warrior.

She raised the dagger, shouting triumphantly, "I, Fran the Dragon Slayer, have defeated the great beast!!"

Behind her, invisible cheering crowds screamed her name.

Confetti rained down.

...Even though a few seconds ago, she imagined things up.

—Back in reality—

Fran whispered, eyes sparkling: "I want that... I wanna try those..."

She drooled a little against the glass.

Dila glanced sideways and sweatdropped.

Zeon chuckled without even turning. "Hey, kitty. If you break that glass, it'll vaporize you."

Fran jolted, straightened herself immediately, then pretended like nothing happened.

Her tail kept wagging though.

"I totally wasn't gonna steal it," she said with a guilty grin.

Dila sighed.

"She's imagining things huh..."

Fran trailed behind them like a distracted child in a museum, gawking at every glowing rune, mysterious herb, and floating weapon. Her tail flicked left and right, clearly overwhelmed with joy.

"Woah... look at that one! And that one! Sister, sister! Look! That one's floating upside down! Hehe!"

Meanwhile, Dila kept walking steadily beside Zeon, her expression half-tired, half-curious. But then, her thoughts slipped out.

"Hey, broken hero," she muttered, giving him a side glance. "Why does this place look like a lab instead of an alchemist smithy?"

Zeon, still walking with his usual lazy confidence, simply smiled without even glancing at her.

"That's 'cause we're not there yet. This is just the outer vault. The real alchemist smithy is further in. Patience, Princess." He even gave a casual wave toward her, as if brushing her off like an annoying fly.

Dila narrowed her eyes at him... then chuckled dryly.

"You seriously look like a goody freak."

"Yeah," Zeon admitted without hesitation, still smiling and closing his eyes like a smug monk. "I like that."

Dila's eyebrow twitched.

Her reply was instant. "Don't make it sound like a compliment, idiot."

Without warning, she punched him square on his left shoulder.

"OWW!" Zeon yelped, jerking sideways.

Yet somehow, even while rubbing his shoulder, he kept smiling like nothing happened, as if he enjoyed the pain.

Fran watched from behind, tilting her head.

"Sis... I think you broke the hero."

Zeon, hearing that, laughed softly.

"Broken? Nah. Pain makes me stronger."

Dila deadpanned. "You're hopeless."

Fran whispered from behind, "Maybe he's a masochist..."

Dila nodded slowly.

"I've suspected that in the past encounter now."