Bright candlelight burned; cool, coiling smoke drifted through the stone chamber.

Today's incense was different—a soft, refreshing thyme.

Prince Alfried laid green sprigs of thyme into a small golden brazier. The subtle, clarifying fragrance spread with the smoke, leaving a faint cool tingle in every breath.

Prince Feiru knelt beside the brazier, closed his eyes, and drew in a long breath.

"My child, tell me—what do you smell?" Alfried asked gently.

"Courage, Godfather." Feiru opened his eyes. "I smell the fragrance of courage. It sharpens my mind and strengthens my body."

The ancient Greeks regarded thyme as a source of courage, burning its stems and leaves before altars to fill temples with its scent. In medieval Europe it symbolized bravery and nobility; women offered it to departing knights, praying for courage, victory, and safe return.

"Good. This is the gods' blessing," Alfried said approvingly. "The gods cloak us in fragrance and grant us the radiance of victory. You must not feel discouraged, child—you stand in divine light."

"I understand, Godfather. I won't lose heart over a defeat to Siria. Victory will be ours in the end," Feiru replied firmly.

Alfried smiled faintly, dipped his fingers into a cup of water, and touched Feiru's forehead. "You are a brave warrior of light. Go—do not fail the gods who favor you."

"Yes, Godfather!"

Feiru backed respectfully out of the chamber.

As the stone door opened, Bruce pressed a hand to his chest and bowed. "Your Highness."

"Uncle Bruce." Feiru returned a nod. "Thank you for waiting."

"It is my honor," Bruce said.

"The Godfather is waiting for you inside. I'll take my leave."

"Safe journey, Your Highness."

Bruce lifted his head, watched the youth depart, then turned and entered.

"Your Highness."

Inside, he advanced to three meters before Alfried and dropped to one knee.

Alfried glanced at him, leaned back in his chair. "You failed?"

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"Your Highness's wisdom is unrivaled," Bruce reported with head lowered. "Those three suspicious civilians drank the Holy Water with no reaction. However, I discovered something new."

"There's a girl named Hessel in Siria's Intermediate team. She seemed strongly resistant to drinking Holy Water. I've already sent Antoine and Wol to watch her."

Alfried's gaze sharpened. "Drank Holy Water with no reaction—you're certain they drank it?"

Bruce's shoulders twitched. "I'm not certain. But Siria's professors and Wol both said so. Wol claims he saw them drink it with his own eyes."

Alfried closed his eyes briefly. "From the start—tell me everything you saw and heard. Omit nothing."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Carefully organizing his words, Bruce recounted—from when they deliberately muddled the Holy Water and potion bottles before handing them to Siria, all the way to the team's departure.

"…And then I let them pass."

When he finished, amusement curved Alfried's lips. "What a clever Princess of the Misty Plains. One move, and she deceived you all."

Bruce jerked his head up. "What—she deceived us?"

When? He never noticed!

Alfried's face settled back into calm mildness. "According to her explanation, the weight difference between Holy Water and potion can indeed distinguish the bottles."

"But how can you be sure that while selecting Holy Water she didn't deliberately swap some potion and Holy Water?"

"If I'm right, the 'Holy Water' those three rats drank was potion she switched in—and the real Holy Water is still with them."

Inwardly Alfried admired Luo Wei's craft. First she won trust by explaining "density," then seized initiative during selection and distribution—pulling off a classic blind spot right under everyone's noses.

Breaking it would have been simple. At the door, Bruce could have required them to finish the remaining "potions."

Or he could have stationed Divine College students with light affinity—uncork, sniff, and they'd know potion from Holy Water.

Either approach would have created friction with Siria's professors—something he preferred to avoid.

In the end, the plan itself was flawed.

He should have mixed potion and Holy Water beforehand—no room for clever tricks.

Sighing, Alfried conceded that belated reflection changed nothing.

Still, the scheme wasn't a total failure; it yielded two pieces of information.

"I thought Luo Wei didn't know those three's identities. Now it seems she not only knows—she's helping conceal them."

He looked at kneeling Bruce. "Tell Wol he is to focus solely on Luo Wei. No one else."

Someone as intelligent and strong as Luo Wei—who shows equal lenience to all races—will draw more and more demonkin and beastfolk.

Watch her, and the little rats will drop into his hand one by one.

"Also, that Hessel you mentioned—and the one who traded Holy Water with the dark‑skinned little rat—investigate them. Three days. I want their identities."

Bruce straightened with renewed vigor. "Yes, Your Highness!"

Elsewhere, the Siria team was following their professors toward the teleportation array back to the Academy.

A fine drizzle veiled the night. Cloaks and hooded robes muffled quiet footsteps along the field path.

Wand flames wavered in the mist, stretching their shadows wide and long.

Luo Wei watched Hessel's tall, straight back; her brows knit.

Hessel woke too late. Luo Wei hadn't been able to swap her potion—only watch her drink the Holy Water.

She could only hope she'd misjudged: that Hessel hid no unusual identity and simply disliked Holy Water.

Otherwise, having drained an entire bottle out of stubbornness, Hessel might not last until they reached Rose Castle.

A little over a hundred meters remained to the array; the group quickened their pace.

Suddenly, Hessel's body swayed.

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