In less than a minute, the six guards Theresis had brought with him were all lying incapacitated on the turf.
The Regent stared at Meiling, his expression completely unreadable. The woman's prowess far exceeded his calculations. Whether it was her mechanical execution, her reflexive speed, or her raw kinetic output, what this lady in the tailored suit had displayed had reached a level of absolute mastery. Even with his vast combat experience, he possessed very little confidence in his ability to neutralize her quickly.
However, with his personal guard currently strewn across the grass, he couldn't simply turn on his heel and walk away, nor could he blindly ignore the slight to his station.
Meanwhile, Meiling was observing Theresis with great interest. She was genuinely eager to gauge the physical limits of this Regent, one of the legendary Six Heroes of the Sarkaz.
Just as the commander was pondering how to gracefully de-escalate the awkward standoff, Remilia spoke up from the vehicle, calling her enforcer back.
"Stand down, Meiling."
Hearing the command, Meiling's shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. She had been fully prepared to test the depth of the ruler's martial pool. But since Remilia had issued a direct request, she couldn't very well press the issue.
Meiling cupped her hands in a traditional martial salute, then turned and swaggered back to the flank of the carriage. She stood squarely behind Remilia with her hands tucked behind her back, looking every bit the gold-medal protector.
Theresis shifted his gaze back to Remilia. "Your vanguard is exceptionally impressive."
"You flatter us, but surely Your Excellency the Regent did not march all this way merely to engage in a sparring match with my gatekeeper," Remilia replied, her eyes sweeping over the groaning soldiers on the ground.
Meiling had exercised deliberate restraint. Given that the guards hadn't displayed true lethal malice during their charge, her strikes, while devastating, were entirely non-lethal. They had merely scrambled the men's physical faculties, ensuring they wouldn't be standing up to resume the brawl anytime soon.
Theresis took a few slow paces forward. "I traveled here for only two primary reasons. The first was to personally meet Miss Flandre, who once threw the eastern territories of Ursus into utter chaos."
He paused, his eyes moving to Flandre, who had just hopped out of the carriage cabin looking bright and lively. "The second was to inquire about the specific nature of the art you employed within Londinium to obstruct our sensory grid."
Before Remilia could answer, Flandre yanked on her sleeve, pointing eagerly at the Regent. "Sister, sister, look! His hair color is so pretty! It looks exactly like that lady from Hakugyokurou!"
Remilia nearly lost her aristocratic composure. Theresis possessed such a commanding, majestic aura that most individuals would subconsciously overlook the vibrant pink shade of his hair. To be perfectly fair, while the continent housed many women with such distinct pastel hair, most men who bore it tended to carry a softer appearance. Theresis, however, was the complete antithesis; despite his gentle hair color, he exuded a profoundly masculine, iron-willed presence.
Flandre, of course, was entirely immune to his psychological gravity. She simply pointed at his locks, appraising the shade with pure, unadulterated curiosity.
"Flandre, remember to show proper respect to our hosts," Remilia chided gently, reaching out to press her hand over the child's head. She then turned her attention back to the ruler, her voice smooth and refined. "My apologies, Your Excellency. My younger sister is young and impressionable. If her candid observations have caused any offense, I ask that you overlook them."
"It is of no consequence," Theresis replied with a concise nod.
"My sister was merely being mischievous during that particular period, escaping the mansion without permission to wander through the Ursus wilderness," Remilia continued smoothly. "Fortunately, she crossed paths with some decent people along her route. She simply followed her whims and offered them a bit of assistance; it was nothing of historical significance."
She paused for a beat, letting her words settle. "As for the sensory disruption you encountered within the capital, that was merely the specialized craft of a close companion. After all, the reputation of the Blood Demons isn't particularly favorable among the various nations. If we were to stroll through a foreign metropolis entirely exposed, it would inevitably invite unwanted scrutiny and complications. My sister has a deep affection for vibrant environments, so we resorted to this minor concealment."
Having delivered her explanation, she fell silent, her steady gaze indicating that the discussion had reached its natural conclusion.
Theresis gave a firm nod. "Thank you for clearing up the matter. My subordinates were overly aggressive in their approach just now; the fault lies with me. I shall see to their discipline upon our return. I bid you a safe journey."
Remilia executed a flawless lady's curtsy in return, then took Flandre's small hand and guided her back into the plush interior of the carriage.
Just as Meiling prepared to snap the reins, Flandre's blonde head popped back out of the cabin window.
"Theresis, can I ask you a serious question?"
"By all means, proceed," Theresis replied. He felt no irritation at the child addressing him so directly by his bare name; instead, he turned his full attention toward her.
"I've heard about the ancient prophecy the Cyclopes left behind regarding your fate—the one stating that you are destined to die right here in Londinium. Given that you know the script, why did you still choose to bring your forces into this city?"
The moment the question left Flandre's lips, the temperature across the plain seemed to plummet. The surrounding atmosphere grew immensely heavy.
Even Duq'arael and the hidden Damazti, who were observing from the distant bush, felt their breath catch in their throats. While the upper echelons of the Royal Court were privy to the forecast, it was by no means common knowledge among the rank and file.
The fallen bodyguards, who were just barely dragging themselves back to consciousness, froze in absolute shock. They stared blankly at the commander they viewed as the ultimate savior of their species. They were well aware of the terrifying accuracy of the Cyclops archives, but they had never imagined a decree existed for Theresis himself—and certainly not one dictating his demise within the Victorian capital.
How could such a thing be possible? Who within the walls of Londinium could ever possess the strength to fell the Regent? Yet, the visions of the Cyclopes almost never missed their marks. To realize that Theresis was entirely aware of his execution date and had marched into the trap anyway sent a profound shiver through everyone present.
"If my physical demise can serve as the catalyst for the awakening and ultimate independence of the Sarkaz people, then such an end is not a tragedy to be mourned, but a profound honor," Theresis answered, his voice steady and deadly serious. "I will not deny that every living soul harbors a natural aversion to death, but fear does not dictate that a warrior cannot march forward to meet it. For the future of the Sarkaz, and for the restoration of Kazdel, if dying within these walls is my ordained path, then I shall face it head-on."
"Mmhmm. If you ever manage to make Kazdel look as beautiful and clean as Lungmen, maybe I'll come back and visit you there sometime!" Flandre chirped happily. She waved her hand at the Regent before pulling her head back inside the compartment.
Theresis watched in silence as the carriage kicked up dust and rolled away toward the horizon. Turning back toward the city, he greeted the secondary guard detachment that had finally rushed out from the gates. After instructing them to transport the injured martial artists back to the medical bays, he remounted his black charger and rode back toward the capital.
At that moment, his mind drifted back to a conversation he had once shared with Nezzsalem, specifically regarding the conditions required to recruit independent powerhouses like Flandre to their cause.
An impoverished, war-torn wasteland like Kazdel simply possessed no leverage to retain exceptional talent. Judging by the exquisite design of that carriage and the refined manners of Remilia's entourage, their financial foundation was clearly immense. Under such circumstances, expecting individuals to abandon a life of luxury and comfort to historical ruin—to a land where they would face constant famine and the threat of sudden violence—was a fool's errand.
As the spires of Londinium rose before him, Theresis's resolve hardened into pure flint.
Meanwhile, inside the moving carriage, a miniature interrogation was officially underway. Remilia and Patchouli sat against the velvet cushions, their focus locked entirely onto Flandre, who was currently sitting across from them with a perfectly innocent expression.
"Flandre, what exactly is the nature of this prophecy you just tossed at the Regent?" Remilia inquired, her brow raised.
Flandre scratched her cheek thoughtfully. "Well, you both know about the Cyclops Court, right? They're one of the ancient branches of the Ten Royal Courts, even though most of them packed up and moved away to Sami long ago. A long time ago, one of their elders looked at Theresis and saw exactly how his story ends."
Remilia leaned back, her fingers tapping a rhythm on her knee. "Go on. Tell us what they said."