[Volume 2 | Chapter 51: Orion's Lioness (III)]

Lorelei Bismarck, Viceroy of Orion, defied every expectation Acacia had formed.

He'd anticipated someone older, perhaps a stern looking matriarch. Instead, before him stood a woman who appeared barely in her late twenties, a voluptuous beauty with a sophisticated bearing that transcended age. She wore her light blonde hair with pink-tipped highlights in an elegant updo, accentuating her high cheekbones and skin. Oval glasses perched delicately upon her nose, the lenses seeming to magnify rather than diminish the intelligence burning in her eyes. She wore a tailored suit of pale gray that should have been severe but instead highlighted the unmistakable feminine curves beneath—a body that somehow managed to convey both power and sensuality without compromising either.

"High Inquisitor Kircheisen."

Her voice matched her appearance—cultured, precise, and yet tinged with a subtle warmth that disarmed as much as it invited.

"How kind of you to grace my humble chambers with your presence. I trust your journey was not too arduous?"

Acacia glanced sideways at Pandora, expecting to see her usual mask. Instead, he found a hint of discomfort in the High Inquisitor's expression. It was something akin to the wariness of a chess player facing an unpredictable opponent.

"Your Excellency," Pandora replied with a formal bow that seemed almost stiff compared to her usual fluid movements. "I appreciate you making time in your schedule for this meeting."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Pandora!"

The Viceroy's formal demeanor shattered like thin ice, replaced by a mischievous grin of warmth that Acacia found himself blinking in confusion. Before Pandora could react, Lorelei closed the distance between them and enveloped the High Inquisitor in an enthusiastic embrace.

"Look at you in that gorgeous dress!" Lorelei exclaimed, stepping back to hold Pandora at arm's length whilst gleefully examining her. "I knew burgundy was your color! It complements your complexion perfectly and accentuates all those curves you insist on hiding under that dreary uniform!"

Pandora cycled rapidly through shock, embarrassment, and irritation.

"Y-Your Excellency, perhaps we could maintain some level of professional—"

"Professional, she says! As if I didn't spend six months convincing her to call me Lorelei instead of 'Viceroy' or 'Your Excellency' every time we're alone." Lorelei rolled her eyes dramatically before turning her attention to Acacia, who found himself frozen under her sudden scrutiny. "And you must be the remarkable young man I've heard so much about. Acacia Belmont, yes? Originally from Wallachia? Survivor of the Annerose incident?"

Her rapid-fire questions came with a smile, but those eyes behind oval glasses missed nothing, cataloging his every reaction intensely, beliying her casual demeanor.

But one thing was clear.

She's testing me.

The story the public knew was that Acacia Belmont was a refugee who grew up as a scion of the late House of Belmont before the Annerose Incident slaughtered many noble families in the Wallachian capital. The Kircheisens and the Belmonts were distant cousins, thus giving Pandora the perfect opportunity to take him in as a ward.

That was the story, and if Acacia ever showed discomfort with anything that went against the script, then Lorelei would sniff him out like a bloodhound (pun intended) on a scent.

That was what Ezio meant, and so, Acacia merely nodded.

"Isn't he just precious, Pandora? And in a suit, no less! Though that tie needs adjusting."

Without waiting for permission, Lorelei stepped toward him, reaching to straighten the offending garment with her fingers. The sudden proximity was overwhelming as a subtle perfume somehow evoking both winter frost and summer flowers, the warmth of her hands as they deftly rearranged his collar, the unapologetic way her gaze met his, and her... um, well... assets pressing against his chest all gave him a sensory overload.

"I-I...I..!"

"Much better," she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Now you look like a proper young gentleman rather than someone being slowly strangled."

"T-thank you, Your Excellency," Acacia managed, finding his voice at last.

"Oh, he's polite too! How refreshing." Lorelei turned back to Pandora, who appeared to be fighting a losing battle with her composure. "Honestly, Pandora, between that dress and your positively edible figure, I'm half tempted to dismiss poor Ezio just so I can ogle you properly without his jealous pouting."

"My pouting is never jealous, merely appreciative!" Ezio protested from his position by the door, hand clutched dramatically to his heart. "If I may say so, Your Excellency, that particular suit does magnificent things for your—"

"That's quite enough, Sir Pelagius," Lorelei cut him off with a laugh. "I'm well aware of what this suit does. It was tailored with precisely that intention." She winked at Pandora, whose cheeks had darkened noticeably. "One must use every advantage in politics, after all. Now, shall we dispense with the standing around and actually sit? I've had refreshments prepared, and I'm dying to hear all about your little adventures!"

She gestured toward an arrangement of comfortable seating near the windows, where a silver tea service waited on a low table.

"And Pandora, darling... we simply must discuss where you found that miraculous dress. It's doing absolute wonders for your figure—I don't think I've ever seen you looking quite so gorgeous!"

The High Inquisitor's response was an unintelligible noise caught between a cough and a curse. Acacia, for his part, was still struggling to regain his mental equilibrium after Lorelei Bismarck's whirlwind assault on his senses. After her final comment about Pandora's "dangerously feminine" appearance, Lorelei's gaze slid toward Ezio, who remained stationed by the door and was not escaping the pervert allegations.

"Sir Pelagius, I believe your presence is required elsewhere. Security rotation briefing, wasn't it?" she said, her tone pleasant but brooking no argument.

"Your Excellency wounds me! Surely my protective services are required for such an important meeting?"

"I think I can manage to protect myself from the terrifying threat of..." Lorelei paused, glancing between Pandora and Acacia with exaggerated suspicion, "...an overworked Inquisitor and a child. Besides, some conversations require a certain... intimacy that your looming presence might inhibit."

"I did NOT agree to intimacy! You're as incorrigible as that womanizing buffoon!" Pandora snapped, finally finding her voice.

"Looming!" Ezio clutched his chest as if physically struck. "I have never 'loomed' in my life! I occupy space with grace and purpose!"

"Just shut up!"

"You see? How can I possibly leave when my moonbeam continues to wound me with such cruel words? My honor demands that I remain to defend myself!"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Among the chaos in the inner sanctum, Lorelei's expression shifted subtly—the change so slight that Acacia might have missed it if he hadn't been watching her closely. Her smile remained, but something in her eyes hardened.

"Ezio."

One word.

The knight's theatrical demeanor evaporated instantly. He straightened, all traces of frivolity vanishing as he bowed deeply.

"Of course, Your Excellency. I'll be on standby in the anteroom should you require anything." He moved toward the door, pausing briefly to shoot Pandora a rueful grin. "Do try not to murder my mistress during my absence, my moonbeam. I'd be forced to defend her honor, and I fear such a clash of titans would level the entire city and landscapes beyond."

With that, he slipped out, the doors closing silently behind him before the High Inquisitor could snap back. As soon as all three were alone, Lorelei's demeanor changed once more.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable. Tea? Coffee? Something stronger, perhaps? I find that conversations of this nature sometimes benefit from a touch of liquid courage."

"Tea is fine," Pandora replied, settling onto a sleek white couch with visible relief at Ezio's departure.

"Tea for me as well, thank you." Acacia followed her lead, taking a seat on an adjacent chair.

The Viceroy moved to the silver service, graceful and precise as she prepared three cups. "Jasmine for Pandora—no sugar, splash of milk. And for our young guest..." She glanced at Acacia with that penetrating gaze. "Something bolder, I think. Assam, with honey?"

Astonished, Acacia blinked.

"How did you—"

"Cold reading, Mr. Belmont. The hallmarks of effective leadership." She handed them their cups before taking her own to a chair positioned so that light from the windows illuminated her guests while leaving her own features in partial shadow—a subtle but effective psychological advantage that didn't go unnoticed by the Irregular.

"Now then, shall we dispense with the pleasantries and get to the heart of the matter?"

The two were silent, intently focused on Lorelei.

"Three weeks ago, I dispatched High Inquisitor Kircheisen to Ocarina with explicit instructions to prevent your execution and secure your safe passage to Windsor. This was not a humanitarian mission, though I find the Empire's casual disposal of young lives morally unpalatable. Rather, it was the culmination of perfectly aligning all the pieces together."

She took a deliberate sip of her tea, watching Acacia's reaction (or lack thereof) over the rim of her cup.

"In other words," she continued after a moment, "I've been studying you, Acacia Belmont. Or rather, studying reports from my informants about a remarkably resilient young Irregular who kept defying the likelihood of his own demise."

Acacia felt a chill that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.

"...You've been watching me since before Gio's murder?"

"Months, perhaps a little over a year, when a particular pattern of anomalies began appearing in Ocarina's municipal reports. Incidents involving a certain Irregular student that should have resulted in serious injury or death, yet somehow... didn't. Whether it was due to his wit, luck, or something else, it was a statistical impossibility that became increasingly difficult to ignore the more I scoured across the Empire records." Lorelei set her cup down with a barely audible clink.

Acacia shot a glance at Pandora, who seemed unfazed by the revelation.

"You knew about this?" he asked her accusingly.

"Not until after I'd received my orders to retrieve you. The Viceroy operates on a need-to-know basis, even with those she trusts."

"Which brings us to our current circumstances," Lorelei interjected smoothly. "Giovanni Narma's murder provided the perfect opportunity, morbidly enough. My informants in Ocarina contacted me immediately, and the execution order allowed us to extract you while simultaneously severing your connections to your previous identity. As far as Ocarina is concerned, you've vanished, and it'd be extremely difficult for the IPA to try to do a wild goose chase at this point. As Pandora told you, this grants us the freedom to establish your new identity as a Wallachian refugee without inconvenient questions concerning your actual past."

Her explanation was coolly logical, presented with the dispassionate precision of someone accustomed to manipulating human lives like chess pieces just like Pandora.

"With all due respect, Viceroy Bismarck, I doubt you went to such extraordinary lengths simply because I have good luck. What do you really want from me?"

Yet beneath her efficient demeanor, Acacia sensed something else—a deeper purpose beyond mere tactical advantage. He was done with trying to hide his skepticism. The question was out there, and it couldn't be taken back.

Lorelei regarded him silently for a long moment, those piercing brown eyes seeming to delve deep beneath his skin, probing for secrets.

Then she smiled, amused by his blunt challenge.

"Very well, Mr. Belmont. Let's speak plainly, then." She leaned back in her chair, her posture shifting subtly from the formal to the conspiratorial. "What I want, Mr. Belmont, is to understand precisely how an Irregular with no discernible prana signature managed to manifest one of the seven Aeterna Armamenta during his execution."

…The hell?

The question hung in the air like a lightning bolt frozen in time. Acacia's mind raced, cataloging implications and calculating risks, but all one hundred lines of thought led to only nonsequiturs.

"...I don't know what you're talking about," he finally uttered.

"Please," Lorelei instantly rebuked. "Let's not waste time with denials. I've seen the security footage from the Colosseum—the red light that manifested just before you called for the mercury to protect you. It was a power that momentarily negated the effects of Arx Ignea, one of the most potent fire-based Regalias in the Empire."

She then rose from her chair, moving to retrieve something from a hidden compartment of her shelf. When she returned, she carried a leather-bound book of such apparent age that Acacia half-expected it to crumble at her touch. The binding bore no title, its surface unmarked save for subtle whorls that appeared to shift when viewed from different angles.

"Are you familiar with the concept of Ein Sof Ohr, Mr. Belmont?"

The term stirred something in Acacia's memory—a fragment of theological discussion from Heinemann's mandatory religious studies.

"The... 'Light Without End?' It's a Kabbalistic concept, right? From the Old Testament?"

"Theologically, you would be correct," the Lioness acknowledged. "However, in the context of the cosmos, Ein Sof Ohr represents the raw, unfiltered energy of the Convergence. Simply put, it's the purest manifestation of divine potential, unbounded by dimensional constraints or natural laws. It is the seed from which prana derives, though filtered and diminished by its passage into our dimensional reality."

Her fingers traced the whorls on the book's cover, the patterns seeming to respond to her touch like living things.

"This is the Kitab al-Bahr al-Mayyit—the Book of the Dead Sea. In the west, it's known simply as the Dead Sea Scrolls. It manifested at the end of the Great Corruption, descending from the heavens like a fallen star. Many believe it was delivered by Jibril—the Angel Gabriel—as divine guidance for humanity in the aftermath of catastrophe."

The book pulsed with an inner light as she opened it. Pages turned of their own accord until they settled on text written in elegant Arabic script. Symbols danced around the margin; They were not mere decoration but something more profound, almost as if the limitations of two-dimensional space struggled to contain a higher order of creation hinted at within the script.

"For centuries, Arabia and its people have guarded this text with their lives, recognizing its true nature—a complete chronicle of major world events from the Great Corruption through the year 420 E.V., written before they occurred. A book composed not of paper and ink, but of Ein Sof Ohr."

Ein Sof Ohr... why is that word is so familiar to me…

"How did you get it?" he asked, the question escaping before he could consider its wisdom.

Lorelei's smile turned secretive.

"Let's just say that even the most vigilant guardians have their vulnerabilities. The Caliph is no exception."

"You stole it."

"I liberated it from those who failed to understand its true purpose," she corrected him devoid of remorse. "The Scrolls were not meant to be hidden away, but to guide action."

She turned several pages until reaching a passage where the text pulsed with a crimson light that matched the color she was referencing earlier.

"Here, among the prophecies concerning the seven Aeterna Armamenta, we find this passage." Her finger traced the flowing script as she translated:

"'And the «Red Key» shall be borne by one who has been most denied by the world, who shall in turn deny the world through apophatic rejection. Through negation shall come creation, through absence shall come presence, through darkness shall light be defined.'"

Her gaze rose to meet Acacia's, the crimson light reflected in her eyes.

"The «Red Key» is one of the seven Aeterna Armamenta—sacred armaments that are pure fragmentations of the Convergence. Unlike Mystic Gears or even Regalias, which merely channel prana in sophisticated ways, the Aeterna Armamenta are direct manifestations of Ein Sof Ohr. They represent concepts so fundamental and abstract they transcend Thaumaturgy."

She closed the book, the motion final.

"You, Acacia Belmont, are its bearer. Through some means, you forced the Convergence to confer to you a power that rejects fate. So, the question is: what will you do with such a gift?"

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