“A cave with swords? What are you going on about?” Yupanai Nomari said with an incredulous expression on his face. His long golden hair was so silky, it was reflective.

  It was the afternoon of the next day, and everyone was gathered in the Zusa palace dining hall. Lilieth had waited until all twelve members of Verlaine’s party were awake and present before revealing the vision she had. What better time than during breakfast?

  “I saw it,” Lilieth replied, holding strong against Yupanai’s overpowering glare—or at least, as strongly as she could. It was difficult when the person in front of you was a Third tier. “There were twelve of them.”

  “I didn’t ask for the number of swords, Lasvenn,” Yupanai said.

  Standing behind Yupanai was a girl with a light tan to her skin, carefully grooming his left antler, who jumped at Yupanai’s sharp tone. His antler was enormous; far too tall for him to groom himself, so he usually got someone else to do it. His other antler was broken at the stump, and a heavy-looking golden ornament was hung on it like an earring, likely to offset the weight of the other antler.

  The girl grooming his antler was Nahia Belasko, another member of the party. She had already finished eating and volunteered to help. She was quiet and withdrawn, so Lilieth didn’t really talk to her all that much. She stood on top of a chair, reaching up to the tip of his antler. Despite her meekness, however, she was an exceptionally talented Familiarmage.

  “The image just appeared in my head,” Lilieth explained. “A-and I don’t know how or why, but I know where it is. It’s near the border of the Artemest region.”

  “We don’t have time for games, Lilieth,” Mirena Ljutomira said, adjusting her framed glasses. She was sitting nearby, immersed in a book instead of eating. “We have to head to Salcaeli soon. The Salt King has summoned us. The demonic front is getting worse, and we need to be there.”

  “Mira’s right, Lili,” Talgerda chimed in. “We don’t have the time to make a detour to Artemest.”

  Someone scoffed. A man with white hair leaned back against his chair with his hands behind his head, elbows up. “The kid’s delusional. Are you really considering it, La Logia? You’re just so—”

  “Careful, Roald.” Talgerda glared at him, which was enough to shut him up although he did click his tongue.

  Roald Isenholt had the lowest level in the party before Lilieth joined, but even then, he was already level 45. He was one of Lilieth’s harshest bullies in the party, which she guessed was because there was finally someone else who would bear the identity of “weakest member”.

  “Lili, I understand that you just want to go and confirm whether or not your vision was real,” Talgerda said in a calm, gentle tone. “But like I said, we really don’t have the time right now. Maybe some other time?”

  “I ... I know that, but ...”

  Lilieth gripped her arm tightly as she stared at the ground. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she felt she had to go there. What everyone was saying was right. If the Salt King gave the order, the heroes had to follow, especially if the order was to go and fight demons. It was their duty as a hero’s party.

  Still, Lilieth felt a powerful pull towards that location. Something inside her was saying that nothing else was more important than that. She couldn’t possibly explain it to them. Even if she tried, they wouldn’t take her seriously.

  “Lilieth,” a commanding voice sounded through the hall. At one end of the dining table sat Olivier Verlaine—graceful, regal, powerful. He looked at Lilieth, a gentle ever-present smile on his face. “You seem desperate to reach this location. Why is that?”

  Lilieth stiffened up. Nobody would take her seriously. Nobody.

  But perhaps Verlaine would. He has no reason to, but maybe, just maybe ...

  “I feel like Lady Eulalie was the one who gave me that vision. A-and I don’t know how to explain, or even describe it, but I feel like ... I feel like I have to go.”

  “And how certain are you of this?”

  “... Almost completely,” the young mage replied, surprised by her own confidence. But it was what she felt.

  A long silence followed. Roald scoffed and turned away to hide a condescending smile, and Yupanai already seemed long disinterested. Verlaine’s expression, however, was serious. Everyone kept quiet as they waited for the hero’s response.

  Verlaine rubbed his chin. “... There may be value in checking the place out.”

  Everyone around the table shifted in surprise—Lilieth most of all.

  “Huh?” Mirena placed her book down in shock. “What are you saying, sir?”

  “We can’t ignore the Salt King’s orders simply on some child’s whims!” Yupanai raised his voice.

  “I’m not saying we do, but there have been cases in the past of Blessed receiving prophetic visions from the gods. All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t be quick to dismiss her.”

  Lilieth could feel the tension in her shoulders release. She hadn’t felt this much relief in a long time, like weights being lifted off of her back.

  Yupanai threw his arms up, the ornament hanging on him swinging slightly at the movement. “What are you suggesting, Verlaine? We can’t afford to go on this treasure hunt for something we don’t know even exists!”

  “Sure we can,” Verlaine replied calmly. “I’m sure the demonic front won’t collapse just because we’re a bit late. We’re not the only heroes that serve Salcaeli.”

  “You know that’s not the issue here!”

  “That’s enough, Nomari.” Mirena turned to Yupanai. “Sir Olivier’s made his decision clear.”

  “Why are you on his side all of a sudden?! You were against it just a second ago!” Yupanai slammed his palm onto the table. “All you know how to do is nod your head at Verlaine like a puppy. Can you think for yourself for once in your life? Or do you need him to tell you to do that, too?”

  “Yupanai, that’s too far!” Talgerda rose from her seat and exclaimed.

  “Stay out of this, half-elf! I—”

  Verlaine whispered something Lilieth couldn’t hear, then lightly tapped the table with his finger. The sound it produced drowned out everyone’s yells. The echo of their discourse lingered like a reminder. In an instant, the chaos ceased, and everyone turned their attention to Verlaine, who was still sitting calmly.

  “Let’s leave it to a vote, then,” he said. “I’ll leave myself out of the voting so that there won’t be an even number of votes nor possibility of a tie. And I’ll disallow any neutral votes. This way, a decision can be made. No matter the decision, we respect it. Is that fine with you, Lilieth?”

  Lilieth jolted up, having snapped out of the shock. The chaos earlier had nearly stunned her. “A-ah, yes! Thank you, Lord Verlaine.”

  Verlaine nodded. “And is everyone else on board with this?”

  Though some in the party were displeased, none fought him on it. That was enough.

  “Then, let’s begin the voting. We start with you, Lilieth. Though, I doubt we all need to ask.”

  “Y-yes, I vote for going.”

  “Obviously, I’m against it,” Yupanai said. “We have more important things to worry about here.”

  Mirena hesitated for a bit, making several glances at Verlaine. “... I agree. I believe that we should be focusing on the demonic front.”

  Yupanai clicked his tongue. “Lye’s hells, woman. Can you ever stick to a decision?”

  “No more of that, Yupanai,” Talgerda said, then smiled at Lilieth. “On that note, I vote for going. We never know, right? What about you, Titan?”

  She turned to the massive man standing in the corner of the room. Fully armored from head to toe, one could almost mistake him for a suit of armor on display. In fact, the entire time, he hadn’t made a single move—almost like a statue.

  He never told anyone his true name. He never even gave a name and just told everyone to call him whatever they felt like calling him. Talgerda called him “the Titan”, so that’s what everyone else ended up calling him, too. He turned his head in the direction of Talgerda. “I vote for going as well.” His voice was deep and baritone, reverberating within his helmet.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Verlaine turned to the seat next to his, where a listless woman sat. Long, lustrous black hair adorned the silent beauty, who had been focusing on her food, even through all the chaos. “And you, Sevens?”

  “Hmm ...” Sevens said, still going through the meal she’d been eating at a snail’s pace. She wore a blindfold with an intricate pattern over her eyes. “It’s fine. Like you said, the demonic front won’t collapse that easily. And it’s not like we’re the only active hero’s party they have access to.”

  “Then, Alice will vote against going.” A hand was raised. A petite girl sat with regal posture, wearing a frilly dress; her skin, smooth like porcelain and without blemishes. Her short, wavy hair was adorned with ornaments. She was like a doll come to life.

  “Do you have a reason, Alice?” Verlaine asked.

  “Oh? Does Alice need to provide one? Then, it’s simply because Alice doesn’t find interest in swords. A simple reason, yes? That is all.”

  Alice was an unnerving person. She was the party’s healer, having been Blessed with Healing magic. Her weird tendency to refer to herself in third person aside, something about her was always ... uncanny.

  “As for me? I’m votin’ against.” A tan-skinned man put his feet onto the table, leaning back into his chair; his bright green hair framed the wide grin on his face, revealing a gold tooth. He was Rodei Libra, the Lord of the Sandstorm. “If yer askin’ for a reason, it’s easy. There ain’t much we can get from it, that’s all. Twelve swords? Even if they do exist, they won’t do us much good now, would they? Now demon huntin’... yeah. That right there? Loads of profit. The Salt King’s no cheapskate; I’ll tell ya.”

  “I dunno, dude. Some swords can fetch quite the price,” a young man replied jovially. Cat ears adorned the top of his head, twitching ever so slightly at each sound—a distinct feature of the Koya people. His hair was a deep azure and his eyes a melting orange: Left Rivers, the Fleet Stealer. “Oh, and I’m voting to go. Seems like fun, after all.”

  “Of course, the little kitty would find it fun,” Alice interjected, her voice antagonistic. “Alice is half-convinced that you’d just run off with the swords if you found them. Are you even capable of keeping your paws to yourself, pussy cat?”

  Left groaned. “Are you still mad? Oh my gods, can you let it go already? It’s been a week now!”

  “You still haven’t returned it! It’s Alice’s favorite bracelet! Give it back already!”

  “Oh, I sold it to Rodei.”

  “Hey, now, that ain’t the deal! We had a non-disclosure!”

  “Enough, we’re getting sidetracked.” Verlaine turned to Roald Isenholt. “You, Roald?”

  “... I’m voting against,” Roald Isenholt replied, his voice lacking the energy it had earlier. He always shirked back when someone more powerful was talking to him. “We’re heroes. We have a duty to fulfill.”

  Verlaine nodded. “That’s five in favor and five against. We only need one more vote.”

  Everyone turned to the remaining member that hadn’t voted: Nahia Belasko. At some point, she had stopped brushing Yupanai’s antler and positioned herself to the far wall. She immediately stiffened up when everyone turned their attention to her.

  “I ...” Nahia began, her voice small. “I’m not really ... good at making decisions like this ...”

  “Remember what we need to do,” Yupanai said in a low tone. “Who we are.”

  “Yupanai,” Verlaine interjected. “Don’t try to influence her decision. Whatever choice she makes has to be her own.”

  Even with those words, Nahia only looked more intimidated. She seemed to physically shrink under everyone’s stares as they all waited for her answer.

  “I ... I think, um ...”

  She made eye contact with Lilieth, her hands trembling. Lilieth’s own were trembling just as bad, try as she might to keep them still. Not a word was spoken between them, but Lilieth didn’t doubt that her eyes were pleading to Nahia.

  Nahia broke eye contact, turning her gaze downwards.

  “... I vote against,” she finally said. Lilieth’s heart sank.

  “Why is that, Nahia?” Verlaine said.

  “Um ...”

  Nahia shuffled uncomfortably. She opened her mouth several times, but no words came out. After a while, Verlaine sighed, realizing an answer was never coming.

  “It’s settled. Six against five. We leave for Salcaeli in the afternoon. No complaints, yes?”

  Everyone gave their agreement—all except Lilieth whose gaze was drooping downwards.

  “Lilieth?”

  “Huh? Ah, yes. No complaints, Lord Verlaine ...”

  He nodded. “Then, dismissed. We’ll reconvene at the eastern gate in a few hours.”

  Everyone dispersed, going off in their own directions. Verlaine stayed in his seat, and Sevens continued to eat. Yupanai got up and left, muttering about how much of a waste of time the discussion even was. Most of the rest left, too. Nahia met Lilieth’s gaze, but she quickly turned away and ran after the others.

  Talgerda came over and placed a hand on the young mage’s shoulder. “It’s fine. We’ll be back here ... someday. We can go check it out then.”

  “Talgerda is correct,” Verlaine added. “When we return from Salcaeli, we’ll go check it out.”

  “What if,” Lilieth started. “What if I go by myself?”

  Verlaine let out a sigh, but Lilieth continued.

  “I-I won’t be of use fighting against demons anyways. I’ll just be standing on the sidelines again. I can go by myself. That’s enough, right?”

  “Lilieth—”

  “Lord Verlaine, please.”

  Lilieth didn’t know why exactly she was insisting so much. Verlaine’s compromise was solid. She could agree to it; check out the place at a later time. That was the most sound, most reasonable thing. It wasn’t like those blades were going anywhere anytime soon.

  And yet, there was something inside Lilieth that was urging her to hurry up. No, it wasn’t even that. It was a command—a powerful one that made her want to ignore everything else. Inside her, a single fact blossomed without reason: those swords were the most important things in this world in that moment.

  This illogical pull was no doubt a sign. Eulalie was commanding Lilieth to do it, and she had to follow.

  Verlaine exhaled, placing his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers together. “What are we, Lilieth?”

  Lilieth paused. “Pardon?”

  “The Blessed,” he continued. “What are we exactly? This is a question I’ve asked a lot of people in the past. I was curious. Why do the gods choose us? Why give us our powers? For what purpose?”

  Lilieth, still confused about the tangent he was on, looked to Talgerda for help. The half-elf had moved to the wall at some point, leaning against it next to Titan, who had silently stayed in the room. She was simply watching and nodded at Lilieth to go along with it.

  Lilieth started. “Well, I’ve had such questions myself, too.”

  “I believe all of us ask that question at least once in our lives. When I asked Roald this, his answer was simple. ‘We are heroes’. Defender of the weak, scourge of all evil. When I asked Mirena, she answered that we were the Salt King’s blades—to be pointed at his enemies and destroy his oppositions. Remind me what your answer was, Talgerda. To you, what are we?”

  “Free,” Talgerda answered curtly.

  “Mm. That’s right. We are free. Free to do what we wish, when we wish. Such power grants us that as well.”

  “Don’t ask me what I answered,” Sevens suddenly spoke, still completely focused on her breakfast. “I won’t remember.”

  “That is not a problem, Sevens, because you never gave me an answer in the first place. My point is that most of us have arrived at our own answers to this question. What is your answer, Lilieth Lasvenn? What are we?”

  Lilieth shifted uncomfortably, being confronted with a question she’s barely had any answers for. But, if she had to give one right at this moment, then it would be ...

  “... I believe we are vessels.”

  “Vessels?” Verlaine asked.

  “Yes, vessels for the gods’ wills. I cannot possibly claim to know what their plans are or what they’re thinking, but I believe that we Blessed are the ones who must carry them out.”

  “Hence you feel compelled to confirm your vision.”

  “Yes, Lord Verlaine.”

  Verlaine nodded, as if satisfied he had yet another answer. “Hero. Sword. Freeman. Vessel. All no more valid than the other. But it doesn’t matter in the end. We are symbols of hope—ones that people look up to in times of great despair. We are heroes if the people see us as heroes. We are free if they believe we are free. We are swords, we are vessels so long as they have faith that we are. We are all of those or nothing at all. If you ask me, Lilieth ... I believe that we, the Blessed, are ideas. And all an idea needs to do is be there.”

  Lilieth thought she understood what he meant. Blessed are born in every age, and every time, people have had expectations of them. And she understood what that meant for her.

  Verlaine stood up and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “You can’t stay behind. You’re a member of this party. Your presence alone is already significant.”

  “I’m not like you, Lord Verlaine. I’m not like any of you. I don’t ... inspire hope. Nobody knows who I am.”

  “Yours is a legend that’s still being written. All I ask is that you be there when it is written.”

  He smiled at her, a gentle and kind smile; the smile he usually gave to everyone. Of course, she knew full well it wasn’t a smile reserved for her, but she wouldn’t deny how warm it made her feel, how it made her heart ache.

  “Go and prepare; we’ll leave for Salcaeli after the First Greatbell tolls. Be sure to get plenty of rest in the meantime.”

  “Yes, Lord Verlaine ...”

  Lilieth walked away, slowly and languidly, out of the dining room. The long hallways of the Zusa palace were beautiful, as usual, heavy with the weight of history. Statues of past Krysanthian heroes on one side and mosaic windows depicting ancient historical moments on the other. She gazed out those windows, towards the distance. Towards the direction of where the twelve swords would be. A direction she knew with certainty, even if she didn’t know how.

  “What should I do, Lady Eulalie ... ?”

  Silently, she offered a brief prayer.

  Lilieth Lasvenn left the dining hall, successfully convinced, yet visibly depressed. Those remaining inside were Olivier Verlaine, Sevens, Talgerda la Logia, and Titan.

  “... I’ll look after her, Olivier,” Talgerda said.

  “She’ll do fine by herself. She has potential, and she’s stronger than she believes. But ... I would appreciate it if you’d do that anyhow.”

  “Right.”

  She walked out of the room, waving for Titan to follow her. Of course, Titan did. He always prioritized Talgerda’s orders above all else. Verlaine didn’t know the history between them, but Titan was loyal to her.

  Soon, all that was left was him and Sevens, who for some reason had not yet finished eating. Verlaine sat back down, and silence followed for a short while, accompanied only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock.

  “We’re all ideas. Is that right?” Sevens said. “It seems to me you still haven’t given up on that childish dream of yours.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No, not at all. I think it’s cute even. But I can see some similarities between you and Lilieth Lasvenn.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re both afraid of being left behind. Her, by her party, and you, by eternity.”

  “Eternity isn’t what I’m after. I’m fading away, eventually.”

  For the first time that day, Sevens raised her head and turned her head to him. He could almost imagine what her eyes looked like beneath that blindfold. “Hmm.”

  “What is it?” Verlaine asked.

  Sevens tilted her head. “You act as if the final page of your own legend has already been written. Everything you do is simply to reach that page in as few words as possible. Do you assume to know the ending to your story?”

  He scoffed. “I don’t care about what’s written on the final page.”

  “Maybe you should care,” she said. “About what’s written, and what ink it’s written with.”

  Verlaine glanced at her. As usual, her face betrayed nothing of her thoughts.

  “Does it matter?” he said. “It can still be read regardless of what ink is used.”

  “Mm, but sometimes, the smell gives it away.”

  Sevens continued eating, leaving the ticking clock as Verlaine’s only companion.