Near the gates of Almany, a platoon of soldiers marched steadily along a well-maintained path, their boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. A light snowfall drifted from the overcast sky, dusting their armor and cloaks in a thin layer of white. Despite the chill in the air, the soldiers moved with disciplined precision, their expressions unreadable as they neared the towering city gates.

  Among them walked two young women, distinct from the rest of the unit. One was clad in a meticulously crafted suit of metal armor, its polished surface reflecting the pale winter light. Each step she took was measured, her posture upright and unwavering despite the weight of her plated attire. Beside her, the other girl was dressed in thick, layered clothing designed for the harsh, unforgiving cold. The heavy fabric wrapped snugly around her form, shielding her from the biting wind that whispered through the barren trees.

  The contrast between them was striking—one radiated the imposing presence of a warrior, her every movement exuding strength and discipline, while the other carried an air of quiet resilience, wrapped in the warmth of practicality rather than steel. Yet, despite their differences, they walked side by side, their paces in sync as they approached the gates of Almany, returning from whatever mission had taken them beyond its walls.

  "Woah, this place looks depressing," Kelda remarked as she exhaled, watching her breath curl into a mist despite feeling nothing from the cold. The towering gates of Almany loomed before her—massive, rusted structures of dark iron, their surfaces worn by time and weather. They cast long, jagged shadows over the snow-covered ground, reflecting the pale gray sky above. The entire scene felt unwelcoming, as if winter itself had carved its throne here and refused to leave.

  Yet, as they passed through the gates, the contrast was immediate.

  "Wow, I didn’t expect the inside to be this peaceful, considering how oppressive the outside looked," Kelda mused, scanning her surroundings. The streets were clean and orderly, the buildings sturdy and practical. Soldiers and civilians moved with quiet efficiency, their expressions hardened but composed. There was no chaos, no signs of brutality—just a kingdom that functioned with rigid discipline.

  Falkmar scoffed. "What did you think the Almany Kingdom was? A land of savages?"

  "Yeah," Indienee replied without hesitation.

  Falkmar let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Listen up. Our Führer might have a reputation as a warlord, but Almany isn’t ruled by chaos. Here, merit outweighs lineage. Strength and skill are what matter—not bloodlines."

  "Ooh, this place is totally different from Angurn Village!" Kelda exclaimed, spinning around to take in the sights. Her sharp eyes darted from the sturdy stone buildings to the neatly arranged market stalls lining the streets. "I don’t see any fields here. Are there no farmers in this kingdom?"

  "This is the commercial district," Falkmar replied evenly. "The farming district is on the other side."

  As they walked, he stole a glance at Indienee. Though her expression remained calm, her sharp gaze swept across their surroundings, always assessing. She moved with quiet vigilance, her posture tense but controlled.

  "We're just heading to the state building to report to my superior," Falkmar added, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "You don’t have to be so on edge."

  Indienee didn't respond, but her wary demeanor didn’t ease.

  Falkmar let out a sigh and turned to his platoon. "You're dismissed. Go about your business."

  The soldiers saluted in unison before dispersing with practiced efficiency, their disciplined movements a testament to their rigorous training. As they faded into the bustling streets, Falkmar continued forward, leading the way toward the state building.

  As they stepped into the state building, Kelda's eyes widened in awe. "Wow, classy! This place looks so high-class and expensive. Does the king live here?"

  "Keep your voice down," Falkmar muttered, shooting her a sideways glance. "This is the state building, where all the officials of Almany Kingdom work. And no, the Führer doesn’t live here."

  Kelda pouted but lowered her voice, still marveling at the grand interior.

  Indienee followed closely behind, her sharp gaze sweeping over the polished marble floors, towering columns, and intricate chandeliers. The sheer opulence spoke of wealth and authority, yet she remained unmoved, mentally mapping the building’s layout as they walked.

  The staff inside cast curious glances in her direction, their eyes lingering on her attire—a suit of gleaming metal shaped like a dress. It was an unusual sight in these halls, where the presence of adventurers was rare.

  Falkmar took note of the stares and turned to her. "And you—try to relax. No harm will come to you. You're my guest here." His tone was firm but reassuring. "They're probably just curious about your outfit. We don’t get many adventurers in this place."

  Indienee gave a small nod, but her stance remained poised, ever watchful.

  "We've arrived at my superior’s office," Falkmar said, coming to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door.

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  He rapped his knuckles against it before pushing it open. "Ma’am, I have returned from the Angurn Expedition," he announced.

  "Come in, come in! I've been expecting you," a cheerful voice called from inside the room.

  Tatjana let out a chuckle, her eyes gleaming with amusement as she took in the sight before her.

  "You really do resemble that person," she said, her laughter bubbling into a mischievous cackle. "Kahahaha!"

  "Who’s this cute little girl?" Kelda asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

  Falkmar sighed. "Show some respect. She’s a Major—and my superior."

  "Eeeehhh?! She’s your superior?!" Kelda blurted out. "Is this a joke?"

  "Ahem." The little girl cleared her throat, trying to regain Kelda’s attention. Then, with a bright smile, she introduced herself. "Welcome, welcome! I am Major Tatjana."

  "For real?!" Kelda’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  "Kahahaha! Yes, I AM his superior," Tatjana said, laughing proudly.

  "Since I’ve introduced myself, shouldn’t you two introduce yourselves as well?" Tatjana asked, her gaze shifting between Kelda and the still-silent Indienee.

  Kelda quickly responded, "Pardon my rudeness. I’m Kelda, a farmer from Angurn Village!"

  Tatjana then turned her attention to Indienee, waiting for her to speak.

  "Indienee, an adventurer," she said in a flat, monotone voice.

  "Aha, an adventurer! What rank are you?" Tatjana asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

  "Platinum-ranked," Indienee answered.

  "Hmmm, that's a pretty high rank. Does that mean you're really strong?" she inquired.

  Indienee simply shook her head, offering no verbal response. Her expression remained unreadable, her posture relaxed yet composed.

  Tatjana raised an eyebrow, then grinned. "Real modest, huh? Kahahaha!" she laughed, clearly entertained by Indienee’s lack of enthusiasm.

  "Anyway, what happened in Angurn?" Tatjana asked, her curiosity evident.

  Falkmar took a deep breath before explaining. "I rescued Kelda from a pack of Snaegulvars after the giant wall of hail suddenly vanished. But there was more to it—Kelda was possessed by an angel, and the real target of the Snaegulvars wasn’t her, but the angel itself." His expression darkened slightly. "I tried to intervene, but I failed. The angel was destroyed before I could save it."

  Tatjana leaned forward, her cheerful expression fading as she processed the information. "An angel, you say...?"

  "Yes, and the villagers were encased in ice," Falkmar added.

  Kelda’s eyes widened with hope. "Um… I heard you can save them! Please, you have to free my Mutti and Vatti!" she pleaded, her voice desperate.

  Tatjana tapped a finger on her desk, deep in thought. Then, raising her voice, she called out, "Men!"

  Two soldiers promptly entered the room, standing at attention.

  "I want you to escort her to Doctor William for a full examination," Tatjana ordered.

  "Yes, Ma’am!" the soldiers responded in unison.

  "Wait," Indienee spoke up, stepping forward. "I’ll go with her."

  The soldiers glanced at Tatjana for confirmation.

  She simply smiled. "Go ahead. We can always continue this discussion later."

  With that, Kelda, Indienee, and the two soldiers departed for the research lab, leaving Falkmar and Tatjana to resume their conversation.

  "You did a reaaalllly good job out there," Tatjana said, grinning.

  "I was simply doing my duty," Falkmar replied, his tone steady.

  Tatjana leaned back in her chair, nodding in approval. "Well, duty or not, your efforts deserve recognition. I’m promoting you to lieutenant."

  Falkmar straightened, offering a crisp salute. "Thank you, Ma’am."

  "I always knew you'd make a fine soldier. Good thing I picked you out from that batch of recruits," Tatjana said with a satisfied grin.

  "You honor me, Ma’am," Falkmar responded, bowing his head respectfully.

  Tatjana rose from her seat with deliberate ease, her small frame moving with an authority that belied her stature. Stepping in front of Falkmar, she seized the front of his uniform and pulled him down, forcing him to lower his head to her level.

  Her expression shifted in an instant—the cheerful, almost childlike warmth vanished, replaced by something far more sinister. Her smile curved into something sharper, more devilish, her eyes gleaming with a knowing glint.

  "Now, tell me the truth," she murmured, her voice laced with amusement and menace. "What really happened to that angel you mentioned?"

  She leaned in closer, the air between them growing heavy.

  Falkmar felt a tight knot in his stomach but forced himself to remain composed. He swallowed, careful to mask his unease, and met her gaze with a disciplined, steady expression.

  "It was killed by the Snaegulvars, Ma’am," he answered evenly.

  Tatjana didn't move immediately. Her sharp, calculating stare lingered, searching his face for any flicker of dishonesty. The room felt smaller, the air colder, as the silence stretched between them.

  Tatjana's eyes gleamed with an unsettling sharpness as she held Falkmar in place. Her devilish grin widened. "Oh? Is that really the case?"

  Falkmar maintained his composure, though he could feel the pressure in her gaze. "Yes, Ma’am. The Snaegulvars overwhelmed it. I failed to save it."

  Tatjana studied his face, searching for any hint of deception. Then, after a moment of silence, she let go of his uniform and stepped back, crossing her arms.

  "Kahaha! You’re good at keeping your cool, I’ll give you that," she said, her playful tone returning. "But you know, Falkmar, I hate being lied to."

  Falkmar straightened his posture, his expression unreadable. "I understand, Ma’am."

  Tatjana smirked. "Good. Because if I find out you’re hiding something from me… Well, let’s just say even a newly promoted lieutenant isn't untouchable."

  She turned on her heel and strode back to her chair, settling into it with an air of casual authority, as if the tension from moments ago had never existed. She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, and waved a hand dismissively.

  "Now then, you're dismissed for now. Go check up on those two."

  “Yes, Ma’am!” Falkmar straightened, snapping into a crisp salute before turning on his heel and marching out of the office with disciplined precision. His steps were firm, his posture unwavering, but beneath the rigid composure, his mind churned with unease.

  He had been warned before. Tatjana had made it clear—if she ever greeted him with her back turned, he was never to speak the truth. It was an unspoken rule, an ironclad command. If she did not face him upon his entry, it meant something was amiss—something dangerous.

  It meant that unseen forces were present, listening, watching. That the walls themselves had ears. Even under the threat of torture, even if his own life was at stake, he could not reveal the truth.

  Back inside, Tatjana leaned back in her chair, a smirk tugging at her lips. She turned her gaze toward the dimly lit corner of the room, where the light barely reached.

  "Now then, O great Archangel," she mused, her voice laced with amusement. "I even questioned him for you. Your dear angel, Aladiah, was killed by the Snaegulvars, and my soldiers had nothing to do with it."

  At that moment, the light in the corner shifted ever so slightly—not unnaturally, but as if something unseen had always been there, simply waiting to be noticed. A soft, almost imperceptible glow flickered, and then, as if stepping forward from the very air itself, a figure emerged—an angel, his form exuding a quiet but undeniable authority.

  “Do not take me for a fool, Gevurah,” the angel’s voice rang out, calm yet laced with quiet menace. His piercing gaze bore into Tatjana, unwavering and unyielding.

  “Kahaha!” Tatjana let out a sharp, amused laugh, unfazed by the celestial presence before her. She leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on her hand. “You are the great Archangel Mikhael, the famed warrior of the heavens. How could a mere human like me ever hope to deceive you?” Her tone was playful, yet her eyes gleamed with something unreadable—curiosity, amusement, or perhaps something darker.