“Well then, I shall return to my duties.”

“Understood. Perhaps, Livia and I should prepare a mid-day snack for Lord Rein before lunch.”

Having completed their respective tasks, the two maids and butler returned to the Palace from the watchtowers outside. However, they soon went their separate ways, as there was always work waiting to be done.

The two took the main path toward the Palace’s North side, where the kitchen was located. They had been tasked with tending to the Lord’s food and drink for the day.

“What do you think, Pompeia? Today sure feels like a ‘greentea cookie’ day!”

The maid with a pony tail energetically suggested.

“Livia, you’re too shallow. Though the Palace is on high alert, today is also an important day. Surely, a mango cake with a refreshing taste would be more appropriate.”

The short-haired maid with a somewhat sleepy countenance rejected Livia’s idea, though she was just as eager about her cake as her partner was about the cookies.

“Mmm... you’re right. Lord Rein has finally woken from his slumber... cookies seem unworthy.”

“We’d best ask Chef Gavius for his opinions.”

“That’s a great idea! You think he’ll give us some other snacks, too?”

Livia seemed to have floated to dreamland, once the talk of snacks and desserts came up.

“...”

However, there was no response from Pompeia this time.

“Hm? Pompeia?”

Livia opened her eyes to see that her partner had stopped walking and was now a couple steps behind her. She could not help but notice Pompeia fixing her eyes on something ahead.

Livia turned around and found Uriel waiting for them at the main lobby ahead. The dreams of sweets, alongside Livia’s life force, left her body as her eyes met Uriel’s emotionless gaze. There was someone else; he stood by her side and not behind her——an individual of equal authority to the head maid of the Palace.

Pompeia finally started walking again, this time however with the proper posture of a royal servant. Once she caught up to her partner, Livia, too, began walking alongside her, matching her pace and steps. The casualness between the two was all but gone.

“Lady Uriel. Lord Michael.” The two greeted their lieges in unison.

“Haha, it is written in the scripture of Lord W4neW4ker that every member of the ‘Palace of the Fogotten’ is family. There is no need for such formality, at least with me.”

A saintly smile stretched over Michael’s lips as he nodded toward Livia and Pompeia.

“Thank you, Lord Michael.” The pair replied.

“Michael, our master awaits.”

Uriel’s interjection was sudden, yet her tone was soft. And so, she sounded neither commanding, nor overly humble. Livia and Pompeia could not help but gaze upon her gracefulness in awe.

“Indeed, I must not keep Lord Rein waiting. It is the joyous day of His advent, after all. What of the other Keepers?”

“They have yet to receive orders.”

“Understood. Then, I shall be off. Work hard, you two.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Michael waved at the two maids, turning around and walking down the path on the left, his long blond hair seemingly flowing in the air. Michael’s cape left behind a faint trail of dancing golden light behind his steps, adorning the beauty of the Palace even further.

“So, what were the two of you whispering to each other about?”

Uriel turned her attention back to her two subordinates.

“Pompeia suggested that we should confer with Chef Gavius about Lord Rein’s mid-day snacks.”

Livia naturally omitted her part in it. Despite her whimsical demeanor, she was no less intelligent than Pompeia or, for that matter, any of the thirteen royal maids.

“The same topic you were discussing while being late to open the door for Lord Rein, I presume?”

Uriel’s gentle voice cast a layer of spiritual frost over the pair. Neither of them had the courage to look Uriel in the eyes. Livia felt as if a clump of iron had formed in her throat, as she desperately searched for any justification.

“We were debating whether it would be appropriate to serve Lord Rein the Berenice brew; however, the storeroom is a restricted area. We had no other choice but to use the Unique grade tea leaves available to us...”

In reality, there was no excuse that could save them from Uriel, and Pompeia was the first to realize that telling the truth was the easiest way out.

“Right! It was the day of Lord Rein’s advent, we simply could not afford to bring out something too bland, or a shabby combination of poorly chosen leaves... and we ended up delaying...”

Livia glanced at Uriel’s face and saw an unchanging, neutral expression——the same one she saw yesterday, and the days and months before that. There was not a clue to assure her and Pompeia that they were forgiven.

“If it is in service to our master, then you’ve nothing to be flustered about. Return to your duties.”

“Yes, Lady Uriel.”

Pompeia and Livia responded in unison, each secretly breathing a sigh of relief. They promptly bowed to Uriel before going their separate ways. Left by herself, Uriel turned around and walked in the opposite direction of Michael, her normally stoic countenance showing a rare hint of preoccupation.

However, the task assigned to her by her Lord was above any and all personal thoughts.

Uriel took a certain hidden path and quickly made her way to the Palace’s storeroom.

* * *

The sound of slightly rattle armour, followed by a couple knocks on the door, interrupts Rein’s thought. Looking at the clock, he realizes who is visiting and closes the data book he has been reading. Though, he opens another one and quickly flips through the pages before answering the door.

“Enter.”

The knob turns and creates a subtle click, upon receiving the correct keyword. The door opens and reveals the visitor on the other side.

The individual is a tall, handsome man with a greatly likeable smile. His long blond hair is neatly combed, and his silver Templar knight’s armour makes little to no noise, despite his movements.

“My Lord, your servant Michael Humilitas, Keeper of the First Sphere, kneels before you. Your awakening fills my heart with nothing but the highest degree of elation.” (friendly reminder from Author: his name is pronounced Mi-ka-el, sorry this will be the last time I do this!)

Michael enters the room and genuflects between Rein’s desk and the door behind him. Without the verbal command ‘Enter’ from the inside, he would have walked into a very different place.

‘It seems like me waking up in that room is significant to them, somehow...’

Rein laments that he was so concerned with other things, he ended up forgetting to ask Uriel about the reason for her tears earlier. But now, he has no time to be crying over spilled milk.

“Michael, I’m glad you are unharmed by the... anomaly.”

“Thank you, my Lord. I have heard briefly about the situation from Uriel. Would you please examine my condition as well? I wish for nothing more than being in the best shape to carry out your orders!”

‘So, they can effectively communicate among themselves without relaying back to the old console...’

Rein can now mark another entry ‘Confirmed’ on his mental list of things to learn about the NPC’s.

“Very well. Tell me everything about yourself. I shall judge the condition of your memory.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

As Michael goes on to have a full presentation about himself, Rein cannot help but be reminded of an old comrade. ‘Man, he sure talks a lot. This guy just does not run out of fancy words to use.’ He thinks to himself while trying his best to hold in the wry smile.

Seventytwopaths, one of the Seven Progenitors, was the face of Rein’s group, as she was the only one who always had a way with words. All negotiation and promotion was left to her, and never once had she failed to secure an important transaction or deal.

‘Uriel turns out just like the type of maid character I love in novels. And now, Michael’s personality is so much like his creator Seventytwopaths. I don’t remember putting too much details in Uriel’s flavour text, and it doesn’t look like Seventytwopaths specifically mentions Michael’s character traits in his, either. Does that mean the NPC’s just naturally take on the characteristics of their creators...?’

Rein continues to wonder as he compares Michael’s self-introduction with both the data in his head and the book.

“Mm. There is no inconsistency between what you’ve said and the records left behind by Seventytwopaths. Looks like you are in the clear, Michael.”

Rein closes the data book and turns his eyes toward Michael.

“That is wonderful news, my Lord! Is there anything that I might prove myself useful to you with?”

Rein leans back in his chair and closes his eyes to buy himself a couple seconds, while his brain scrambles to come up with the next important step to take in this situation. He has been too absorbed in reviewing some important data and let twenty minutes go by without thinking much of what he should now do, as the master of this territory.

‘...is this how the department head felt whenever someone asked him for the next assignment when he had no idea what the higher-ups really wanted?’

Rein suddenly feels a curious sympathy toward all the middle management staff at his company.

“Michael, can you widen the effective area of your barrier spells?”

Rein notices the shelf of Spell data books in the corner of his eyes and becomes curious.

“That is easily possible, my Lord.”

Michael smiles confidently.

“Excellent. Since I have determined that you are unaffected by the anomaly, you are to return to your domain, the First Sphere, and defend the Palace from long-ranged attacks with a Rank 4 barrier. If you require more mana, I shall permit the use of elixirs from the storeroom.”

Including the ground level, where the Throne Room is, the Palace of the Fogotten consists of seven levels in total: four above ground, and three under ground. The Central level is where the respawn point and command quarters are located, while the three floors above it are referred to as the Third, Second, and First Spheres.

Michael resides in the highest First Sphere, from where he rules over the sky above the Palace.

“Your wish is my command. Though, you need not be concerned about my mana. The Palace’s precious resources will not be necessary for such a simple task.”

“Very well. Hold the barrier steady until you are instructed to bring it down. Bear in mind that we have little to no information about the anomaly and the its effects on the environment outside. Ready your subordinates and prepare yourselves for the worst!”

“It will be done, my Lord!”

“That’s right, send one of your minions to the second level of Gehenna and tell Jerahmiel to come here.”

“Understood. Then, I shall be off.”

Michael bows before standing up and leaving the room.

‘...my God, my throat is fine even after raising my voice so much, but I feel like I haven’t slept for three days...’

Rein sprawls on his chair, complaining to no one but himself.

Soon, new knocks once again come from the other side of the door.

“Enter.”

This time, the one that shows up is an unorthodox beauty with a deathly pale skintone. Her long, black hair sparkles like the reflection of the night sky in the river, even in the subtle illumination of Rein’s office.

‘Kay, here we go again...’

Rein once again puts on the act, taking references from all the haughty employers he has ever worked for.

* * *

The peddler’s eyes swung open as soon as he regained consciousness.

He dragged himself off of the ground and searched desperately for his wagon, despite the spinning dizziness in his head. Fortunately for him, he was not thrown too far from the wagon, or what was left of it.

“My... my cargo!!”

The peddler ran toward the broken mess in the middle of the road, but stumbled and fell. Even so, he crawled on all fours just to get closer to his treasure.

“Wait, I need to... first... Oh, God please be intact!”

The peddler grabbed the hidden chest pocket on his shirt.

His face brightened up the moment he felt the shape of the item inside.

“Ahh thank God! Thank all the Gods!”

The object he took out was a cylindrical crystal which glowed beautifully in the sunlight. Despite the bloody mess that his body was, this item miraculously survived the ordeal completely unscratched.

The peddler’s face showed reluctance for but a moment before he raised his hand and smashed the crystal on the ground. The instant it broke, a red fume escaped from inside and quickly took on the form of a small bird. The bird made of smoke then swiftly took to the sky and flew away at an incredible speed.

The relief of knowing that rescue is en route finally allowed his body to relax, letting all the pain come flooding throughout his flesh and bones.

He hugged his aching head, trying to forget the horrific sight of that that creature.

However, the more he tried, the more vividly he remembered it.

The creature attacked from behind without making a single noise. It was only interested in him for a few seconds, before it realized that the ‘delicious’ mana was coming from underneath the cargo and not on his body.

Even so, during its ‘search,’ the peddler was struck and clawed with inhuman strength. During a certain moment of survival, he ducked to the side and avoid a deadly punch to the face. He wanted to praise himself for pulling off something so crazy, but the excruciating pain only served to put his mind in despair.

The peddler vaguely remembered being thrown out as he caught a glimpse of the creature digging through the cargo that his horses were pulling.

“What... what happened... to my horses?”

He weakly looked around, but could not find either of them.

“Ah... I’m sorry, boss...”

With little strength left, the peddler quickly gave up the search for his horses and turned his attention toward the broken wagon and smashed goods. Pieces of destroyed vases, fruits, and equipment could be seen falling out from under the cover sheet.

The peddler summoned the last bit of stamina he still had and tried to dig for the hidden compartment. He cut his fingers on several sharp pieces of junk, but he was too hurt to notice smaller pain.

Eventually, the sight of a small wooden box peeked out from under the mess.

“...wow ...they’re fine.”

Those were the final words to come through his bloodied lips.

The peddler collapsed as his consciousness began to fade again.

The last thing he remembered was a dark, raspy voice coming from behind.

“Well, perhaps this one’ll be more useful to our Lord than the dumb goat.”