Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part Two]

CHAPTER 247: The Memorial Ceremony

Not Reneal.

Never Reneal.

Now he would have to scramble, clawing for scraps of favor from Vaerythos and the council to redeem himself before his ambition to lay claim to the throne slipped any further from his grasp.

As the storm of resentment brewed inside him, his scowl turned to Sophia who stood quietly at Lumielle's side. His lips twisted in disgust as he scrutinized the woman.

Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the room, Captain Hynes also watched Sophia and Lyndoria with absolute disdain. His jaw tightened, and he sipped his wine far too quickly to savor it.

Not far from him, Leopold stood like a stone, his broad shoulders tense. His withered eyes were fixed with loathing upon Lord Ignatius Pembroke who laughed without care among his peers. Bastard. May the fires of hell claim you, he thought darkly. And may your bones be picked clean by crows.

But then his gaze shifted—and softened with intrigue—as it landed on Sophia. Curiosity flickered behind the bitterness in his eyes as he watched the sway of her striking silver hair.

His thoughts drifted back to the woman's twin daggers and the familiar wave of frost that had rippled from her body as she danced with death against the Dungeon Boss.

Why, then, had that trophy been given to Prince Reneal instead?

From across the room, a large-bellied man approached a trio with a sour expression, his eyes narrowing as he looked Sophia up and down. "A noble from beyond our borders? And no one's heard of her house? Forgive me, Your Highness, but are we truly to believe she isn't some well-placed spy?"

Lumielle turned to face him, her voice cool and confident. "Lord Hestane, you seem to forget yourself. I am the princess. You will be mindful of the way you speak in my presence—or shall I take this tone as a sign of future betrayal?"

Hestane stiffened, clearly not expecting the rebuke.

"Sophia is my treasured friend. Her loyalty is steadfast. And if she were to betray us..." Her gaze sharpened "...I will bear the consequences. Not you."

Lyndoria smirked faintly beside her. Daisuke said nothing, but his eyes were locked on the noble, daring him to speak again.

Hestane swallowed. "O-Of course, Your Highness... I meant no offense."

"Good," Lumielle said, turning on her heels to leave as she flicked her coral-pink hair. "Then we are finished here."

The man discreetly scowled and cursed beneath his breath as he stormed away. Meanwhile, Daisuke leaned casually toward Lyndoria, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You chose quite the boss to pledge your loyalty to. By the way... it's nice to see you dressed in something else for a change," he said, giving her an obvious once-over.

Lyndoria shot him a glare, her lips curling into a snarl. "Go to hell," she spat, though the faintest trace of color rose in her cheeks.

Chuckling under his breath, Daisuke followed the women onto the balcony. Outside, the courtyard spread beneath them. The commoners milled about beneath the torches, their shadows stretched and shivering against the ground. Their buffet was meager in comparison—cheap breads, watery stews, and no music to lighten their grief.

There were no servers attending to them, no glittering chandeliers, no elegant finery. Only the hard truth of their loss, and the company of one another.

Lumielle leaned over the railing, her coral pink hair catching the torchlight, her eyes heavy with sympathy. "The purpose of this gathering was to mourn with the victims of today's tragedy," she murmured, "to bring people together. And yet, here we are... segregated, as if their pain is beneath us."

Lyndoria scoffed, folding her arms. "Are you surprised? They only ever care about themselves. Always have, always will."

Daisuke opened his mouth to add his own thought, but before he could, a ripple of dark mist stirred at his feet. Midnight slipped from his shadow and discreetly perched himself on the railing beside Lumielle, his olive-green eyes glinting with urgency.

"Hey, buddy," Daisuke said casually, one brow arching. "Something the matter?"

But the feline gave no reply, neither voice nor psychic whisper. He simply stared ahead, his tail flicking in agitation. He could feel the tension in the air, and understood that his master was entangled in something critical. But desperation gnawed at the Djinn's pride, forcing him to do something he would normally never consider.

He turned to his rival for help.

Drawing upon the language of ancient beings—a silent exchange of auras—Midnight called out to Zephyr. A moment later, a small, shaggy head popped out from underneath Daisuke's flowing gown. The pup blinked up at the feline, oceanic eyes stirring with patient curiosity despite a deep frown.

Their gazes locked. No words were needed. In a single, seamless motion, the two deities dove into Daisuke's shadow and quickly vanished without a sound.

Daisuke stared after them, blinking once. "Well, that wasn't weird at all," he muttered.