1412 An Invitation

While Robert undertook a tremendous risk for a chance of revenge, an elegant middle-aged woman visited the Brother-in-Law's manor.

"I did not expect such a big surprise, Sonya dear." Sipping the red tea her adopted daughter personally brewed, the Archduchess said with a smile.

It's just neither Sonya nor the group of three seated with her returned that smile, even if only for appearance.

Unaffected by their indifference, Serenthia turned to Enigma and looked at her with an intense gaze.

Rather than being intimitaded by her gaze like a typical warrior, Enigma stared back at her. There was no strong animosity in her eyes but there definitely was no good feelings.

What interested the princess' mother, however, was the way Enigma carried herself. Despite facing a powerful rank 8, she was greatly self-assured. The subconscious wariness a weaker being would have towards a stronger one was completely absent.

'There's something strikingly similar about the two. Even close sisters didn't give this feeling. Is she her sister or her daughter? No, there's no way Isadora would even acknowledge someone as her equal and she'd only love her equal.'

Isadora was a good child. She might have had her shortcomings but she was never biased. She treated everyone equally. Be it a rank 7 or rank 4, talented or talentless, even Spirited or Spiritless.

Serenthia used to think that's because Isadora shared the same values as her. But she was wrong.

It's not that Isadora felt a Spiritless deserved to be elevated and treated the same as a Spirited.

Nope.

From her perspective, both of them were the same. For a lion, a bigger ant and smaller ant wouldn't make much of a difference.

Isadora was a lion. Everyone else were ants.

It's not particularly her fault. The overwhelming talent of the girl meant that she could never view anyone as her equal. They were just too slow and weak in comparison. Even a warrior stronger than her today would quickly fall behind her in a few decades.

Even if she did nothing, Isadora would reach the finish line simply by existing. For people who shed blood, sweat and tears, her very existence was the demonstration of the world's unfairness.

But she didn't know it back then.

Serenthia thought they were the same. That misperception was the reason she had to take such drastic measures in the end.

"If you want to reminisce, you can clean up some old pictures. Since you're here, get to the point. Why are you here?" Varian wrapped his arm around Enigma's shoulder and asked his mother-in-law.

Serenthia slowly moved to him. Her eyes suddenly glowed red and the aura in her body was channeled, ready to burst out.

For a brief moment, the Archduchess contemplated kidnapping Varian and Enigma. 

With Enigma as a hostage, Isadora could be kept at bay until she fulfilled her dream.

And she needed the thing in Varian's hands. The thing that Samatv failed to acquire.

'But…if I do it now, I wouldn't even be able to participate. I can't put the cart before the horse.' The elegant lady let out a small sigh.

Unaware that he had just averted a major disaster, Varian continued. "If you have nothing to say, leave already."

Serenthia ignored him and turned to Sonya. "You are going to participate."

"I don't really wa—"

"The king ordered these three to join. If you don't go, they'll have to team up with strangers."

Sonya bit her lip and sighed in defeat.

Serenthia could already see that Sonya learned the truth. But since she grew up

under her care for centuries, the little princess couldn't hate her openly.

It's a relation that went bothways.

Serenthia didn't want to put her younger daughter in this position either. And if there was another way to deal with Isadora, she would have.

But in the end, everything, including her own life could be sacrificed for a worthy purpose.

What if it's her older or younger daughter? Or the influence she gained? The networks she built? Her powers, riches, time and energy?

Everything could be sacrificed.

Serenthia calmly rose to her feet and nodded at them for one last time before heading to the exit.

Unlike others who were easily offended by Varian, she didn't care about his rash personality in the slightest.

She's like a focused archer, her sight set on the goal. Nothing in the way, neither a hellish demon nor wish granting angel, could distract her.

"I wish you all good luck in the ritual. May Righteousness prevail."

Leaving behind positive remarks, the lady vanished.

When she did, Sonya slumped in her chair, glistening sweat all over her light pink skin.

Enigma, on the other hand, clutched her head and took several deep breaths. Contrary to Serenthia's estimate, the 'younger sister' could feel a lot of Isadora's thoughts and feelings.

Isadora shut off her consciousness when this woman appeared and yet, rage and pain flooded Enigma's soul.

She wanted to bawl her eyes out but also wanted to stab a dagger through Serenthia's heart again and again, asking the same question. 'Why? Why? Why?'

Despite the great mental stability she developed over long periods of solitude, Enigma was nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of those emotions. She could only imagine what Isadora was going through.

Varian knew she needed some time alone. So, he left her in the manor and went to buy a few samples of rare metals. The sooner he masters the process, the sooner they could put away the solar system and go into hiding.

Not taking up the 'chance' for a date, Sarah stayed back with Enigma.

In her own words: 'She worries me.'

It was the first time Varian went shopping alone in this place. He picked up the items he set out to acquire and walked down the streets with a mask on.

This was the unnamed Black Market—a high-end commercial district with items of suspicious origin—so, the streets were filled with masked people.

Naturally, he didn't attract any attention.

No attention other than a few over enthusiastic shopkeepers who tried to draw him to their store to boost their sales.

Varian wasn't swayed, of course.

That was, until one particular call was made.

"Dear Customer, would you like a divination?" A fair-skinned woman wearing a witch hat, black robes called out with a small smile.

Her shop—a dalipated stall—was at the end of the street and had no customers. It's technically in the district but that's about it.

Varian instinctively measured the lady's rank.

[Rank 8]

'What?'

"Most people do not believe in fate. But they simply do not understand it well enough. But you, you look like trust fate."

The woman's remarks might've sounded like the standard remarks to a normal person. However, Varian was not normal.

For better or worse, he strongly agreed with the woman's words. And looking at her rank, he began to wonder if she's one of those mysterious powerhouse who hide from the masses.

'This is an opportunity?!'

In half-delight and half-disbelief, he stepped into the blue tent.

—A blue formation on the ground activated before he could react and a thin bladed sword sliced him across his waist.