As soon as Theodora left the workshop, she went to the Adventurers' Guild. The last time she’d been there was a month and ten days ago. Seeking some way to ease her tangled emotions, further complicated by Arsen Bern, Theodora went to the Adventurers' Guild, where Maxime’s search had been commissioned. Though she hadn’t heard any updates, she hoped there might be some news or clue.

The sky darkened as if it would snow again. Theodora hurried her steps to the guild before the day grew any later.

But what she heard at the guild had nothing to do with news or clues about Maxime.

“…What did you just say?”

Under her hood, Theodora’s voice was low and icy, directed at the receptionist with an unmistakable hint of menace. Though visibly nervous, the receptionist answered her question precisely, doing their duty diligently.

“I’m sorry, but the Adventurers' Guild has now forbidden all contact and even commission acceptance for anyone associated with Count Bening.”

A clear line had been drawn. The conflict between the Adventurers' Guild and House Bening had escalated, with the powerful Bening family exerting pressure on the guild. The guild’s confident refusal of Theodora’s entry hinted that they had significant backing to support this stance.

“What about the commission I submitted? The guild clearly told me it would take at least a couple of months, saying there was no way it could be done in a day or two.”

Her voice, once angry, now held an edge of desperation. The receptionist looked even more troubled than when she had been simply furious, replying cautiously.

“I’m sorry, but I have no further information I can offer you. I will escalate this to the higher-ups; could you return in two days at the same time?”

Unable to find words to respond, Theodora bit her lip. Her already chaotic mind seemed ready to sink into even greater confusion.

“When did this happen, and by whom…?” “It’s today.”

The voice came from behind Theodora. The adventurers turned their attention toward the man walking toward Theodora, who was the head of the guild’s royal branch. The receptionist quickly stood up, bowing to the branch leader, while Theodora’s expression twisted when she recognized his face. The guild master’s brows furrowed slightly, perhaps sensing who was hiding beneath her hood.

“Guild Master.”

“There are a lot of eyes here. I’ll make some time for a brief talk, but let’s go somewhere more private.”

The guild master gestured for her to follow, and with her expression still taut, Theodora rose to follow him. Her hand gripped the hilt of Black Wolf, freshly sharpened at the forge. The guild master led her to his office on the second floor, accompanied by his assistant.

“It’s been a while, Miss Bening—or should I say, Commander of the Crow Knights?”

“…I never saw the guild as my enemy. I just came to check on the status of my commission.”

“You might not, but your father certainly does. He doesn’t just see us as enemies; he wants to utterly ruin us.”

The assistant rustled through documents, then placed a file in front of the guild master, who gave a slight nod and flipped through it.

“We, too, have no desire to have an antagonistic relationship with an exceptional knight like yourself. But then, when did we ever get to live exactly as we pleased?”

The guild master let out a sarcastic chuckle, remarking on how adventurers often end up taking the jobs no one else wants. The sound of the pages turning underscored his laughter.

“We can provide you with the information we’ve gathered. It’s a matter of keeping things clear-cut. However, there’s one thing I’d like you to answer.”

The guild master closed the file with a thud.

“Why did you submit this commission in the first place?”

Theodora answered without a moment’s hesitation. In her dark, stormy eyes, a profound sense of attachment and regret flickered, deeply rooted.

“Because he is precious. Because I have to bring him back.”

There was no sign of hesitation or embarrassment in Theodora’s words. The guild master silently observed her, eventually sighing.

“Just this once, I’ll make an exception. Not that it’s particularly vital information, anyway.”

He placed the file on his desk and spoke.

“In conclusion, we couldn’t find him. No clues, no sightings, not even a rumor. Failing to locate anything at all in a month and a half—it’s nearly unheard of in the guild’s centuries-old history.”

Disappointment washed over Theodora’s face, and she bit her lip, trying to fend off the emptiness threatening to consume her. The guild master tapped his fingers on the desk, as if contemplating, then continued.

“However, I was able to find out about Christine Watson, the wizard you asked us to help with the search. Or, rather, I once met her.”

Theodora’s movements halted. Her gaze, filled with confusion, was locked on the guild master as he slowly began to speak.

“When, and where, did you…?” “You’re a knight in the royal palace, aren’t you? Then it’s likely you’ll naturally come across it… and if your father knows, he might have some idea about it.”

The guild master raised his eyebrows meaningfully. Theodora was left in the dark as to why her father was now being mentioned, how the guild master knew Christine’s whereabouts, and why, even while Christine’s location was known, Maxime remained missing. She could do nothing but wait for the guild master to continue speaking, even as questions and frustration built up within her.

“The Royal Guard, First Division.”

The First Division of the Royal Guard—an elite force that guarded the king himself, acting solely on his command. The shield and backbone of the royal family, it was something her father, Leon Bening, was particularly wary of.

“I saw the person you’re looking for wearing the uniform of that division.”

Theodora’s eyes wavered. Christine—she was in the First Division of the Royal Guard? But why?

“You seem rather shaken.”

The guild master rose from his seat, calling for his assistant, who adjusted his glasses as he followed behind. The guild master turned to look at Theodora, who remained seated, lost in her thoughts.

“I have other business to attend to. Feel free to stay here as long as you need to gather your thoughts.”

With a dull thud, the office door closed behind him. Theodora, her gaze still unsettled, repeated the guild master’s words in her mind.

‘Your father might know about this.’ ‘The Royal Guard, First Division.’

In the room, growing dim, Theodora’s eyes shone brightly.

 

Outside, the assistant asked the guild master a question as they descended the guild’s stairs.

“Why did you reveal that information?”

The guild master squinted slightly, glancing back. It seemed Theodora Bening was still in the office, gathering her thoughts.

“You mean, about Christine Watson joining the First Division?”

“Yes… I thought it best not to reveal such royal matters.”

The guild master shrugged.

“Consider it bait. Or another trap, if you will, to further isolate Leon Bening.”

“Isolate him?”

The assistant asked, prompting the guild master to nod toward the office and begin explaining.

“It’s known within the royal circles that Theodora Bening doesn’t have the best relationship with her father. As the Crow Knights’ commander, she has a habit of disregarding Leon’s preferences. Just look at how she came to the guild today.”

The guild master’s eyes sharpened as the puzzle pieces of his plans fell into place in his mind.

“Leon Bening isn’t fully in control of his daughter. No matter how powerful he may be, if Theodora seriously turns against him, it’ll cause him no small amount of trouble. It’s just the burden of having such an exceptional daughter.”

Smiling slightly, the guild master nodded at a staff member who opened the guild’s back door for him. The strong wind blew as he stepped outside.

“I suspect Maxime Apart and Christine Watson are at the center of this father-daughter conflict. Leon has been persistently searching for Maxime as well.”

The assistant’s eyes widened as they walked, still piecing together the royal intrigue.

“So, you revealed that information on purpose.”

“Yes, I believe it may fracture any remaining trust between Leon Bening and his daughter. The wider the rift, the fewer allies Leon will have.”

Adjusting his collar, the guild master picked up his pace. There would be much to discuss with the royal envoy regarding future plans.

“Leon thought a few policies and planted agents would be enough to monitor us here. Ridiculous. He underestimated the Adventurers' Guild, an institution that’s existed for centuries longer than House Bening.”

With a grin, the guild master bared his teeth.

“He was the one being watched.”

 

Shh, shh.

Master craftsman Thomas was sharpening the blade with sweat pouring from his brow. The whetstone glided over the rough surface of the blade he had tempered, his gaze fixed intently on its ever-sharpening edge.

“All that’s left is to heat the blade and dip it in the etching solution. This blade… it’s practically a whole new sword.”

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“The price will be steep, though. Used quite a bit of mithril.”

Thomas sighed as he turned the blade in his hands. Made with white iron alloy, the blade gleamed with a subtle luster. After heating it, he dipped it in the etching solution, then withdrew it.

“This…”

Maxime looked at the reborn blade, a faint expression of awe escaping him. The mithril-infused blade gleamed with a holy white light. The craftsman, too, muttered a sound of awe as he beheld the blade’s true form.

“It may have turned out to be a monstrous sword after all.”

White Fang (Baeka) was quiet yet fierce and sharp. Maxime, unaffected by the forge’s red glow, stared blankly at the blade’s brilliant white aura.

“I took pride in making Black Wolf for your commander, the kind of masterpiece I’ve rarely made. But this one… I’m not so sure. It feels like it came from beyond my expertise.”

Thomas and Maxime both gazed at White Fang. The unspoken weight of the blade's legacy seemed heavier than the craftsman anticipated. After a long look, Thomas wrapped the handle in leather.

“I don’t know what story White Fang will write,” he murmured.

After finishing the leather wrap, Thomas lifted White Fang and handed it to Maxime, who took it with a bewildered expression. Though the leather felt unfamiliar, the sword felt natural in his grip, as though he could wield any technique with it.

“May this sword carve a story to be remembered.”

Maxime nodded. A story to be remembered…though not exactly what he wanted. What he sought was one person’s salvation and another’s ruin. As if in agreement, White Fang hummed softly. Thomas, astonished, stared at Maxime.

“The blade hums… What on earth…”

Maxime returned a faint, bitter smile, sheathing White Fang. Its familiar weight returned to his side.

“Thank you, Meister.”

“Of course. If it ever needs repair, bring it back, and I’ll set aside everything else for your White Fang.”

After a nod and a farewell, Maxime left the workshop. The biting wind greeted him as he walked northward, adjusting his grip on White Fang’s handle to get accustomed to it.

He had to win. Win, and secure the First Prince’s position to prepare to bring down Leon Bening—and to save Theodora.

Maxime tightened his grip on the sword one last time. In response, the blade hummed again. His gaze was fixed on the path leading to the royal palace.

 

"How unusual for you to come so willingly. Have you had a change of heart?" Leon Bening remarked, facing Theodora, who had surprisingly accepted his summons without resistance. Normally, she would excuse herself, claiming poor health or the need to focus on training, to avoid such meetings. But Leon, sensing a gravity in his daughter’s demeanor, furrowed his brows slightly as Theodora sat across from him, feigning indifference.

"There's something off about you. You look like you're ready to draw your sword against your own father."

"...It’s nothing," she replied.

"I hear you visited the Adventurers' Guild today," Leon continued, undeterred by her response.

Theodora didn’t react to his words, prompting him to drum his fingers on the table as he spoke on.

"What did you hear while you were there?"

"Nothing of concern to you, Count."

Theodora’s answer was dismissive, practically ignoring his question. Leon, however, sighed as if he knew exactly why she had gone to the guild.

"I’ve let it slide up until now, but I can no longer overlook your dealings with them. It would hardly look good for me, as your father, to enforce my will on you by force. So instead, I propose a deal."

Leon raised an eyebrow, suggesting his proposition to her.

"If you win the martial tournament, I’ll help you in your search for Maxime Apart."

"That won’t be necessary," Theodora replied curtly, rejecting his offer without hesitation as she rose from her seat.

"Theodora, you know that, in the end, I am the one who will find Maxime Apart."

"Why are you so intent on locating someone who was once your enemy?" she asked, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Why are you so certain he’s still my enemy?"

The curse he bore would still be on his body. Despite repeated searches, there had been no word of Maxime Apart, but it wouldn’t be long before he came back to him. The curse he had carefully woven onto Maxime’s body would inevitably guide him down the “proper” path.

"Remember this, Theodora. In the end, you’ll have no choice but to follow my word."

As she left his chambers, Theodora clenched her sword. In response, Black Wolf hummed softly, resonating with her grip.