Andras's face lit up.
"Come in, Noelle! Bring us that delight!"
"Scones!" Ironclaw cried, her eyes gleaming with wild joy.
Andras laughed aloud.
"You already stuffed yourself with them in the kitchen!"
"But I'm hungry again!" Ironclaw shot back, and for the first time laughter broke out in the hall, shattering the tense atmosphere.
Noelle stepped up to the Young Wolf with the tray, steaming scones lined neatly upon it. Andras took three and began eating calmly.
"Offer them to our Silver Knight guests as well," he said between bites. "After such a long journey, they must be hungry by now."
Christina accepted a scone, nodding with a faint smile.
"Thank you, it looks delicious."
"I baked them myself," Noelle replied, a little shyly.
Christina turned toward her with curiosity.
"So, you are the half‑elf mage of the Wolfwoods?"
"I am the Young Wolf's personal maidservant," the girl answered, her eyes lowered.
"Not his mage?" Christina asked, slightly surprised.
"First and foremost a maid, second a mage apprentice," Noelle whispered softly.
Christina bit into the scone, her eyes lighting up.
"I see… hmm, this scone is truly delicious! And I don't say that out of courtesy. Is it made from some secret recipe?"
Anita cut in with a mischievous smile.
"The secret ingredient is love!"
Christina glanced at Noelle's face, which flushed red like a fire elemental. Beneath her snow‑white hair and pale skin, the blush almost glowed, showing how embarrassed she was by Anita's words. Ironclaw and Anita laughed loudly, while Andrea sighed sympathetically, as though to shield the half‑elf girl. Andras, however, kept calmly munching his scones, as if he had heard nothing at all.
The tense atmosphere of the knight's hall slowly dissolved. Laughter and shared food broke the heavy mood, and the Silver Knights departed content: they had secured reinforcements from the Wolf Knights against the Blue Ogre.
After the meeting, everyone went about their own business. The Silver Knights were escorted to their lodgings, where Christina Silverwood, as captain, was given the finest guest chambers. Lord Bandorn Wolfwood remained to speak further with Master Florian, while Andras returned with his own companions to the castle kitchen—where more scones and a lighter mood awaited them.
The knight's hall had fallen silent. After the departure of the Silver Knights, only Lord Bandorn Wolfwood and Master Florian remained, to discuss the matter of the Blue Ogre in private. Torchlight flickered grimly across the stone walls, as though the castle itself were listening.
"What do you think of the Blue Ogre, Master Florian?" Bandorn asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and suspicion.
Florian's eyes gleamed playfully, a sly smile curling his lips.
"I think your son succeeded in deceiving the Silver Knights quite well."
"What do you mean by that?" Bandorn leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"The Blue Ogre's magical crystal is extremely valuable," Florian explained. "One may obtain such a thing perhaps once in a century."
"And Christina gave it up so easily?" Bandorn's voice carried disbelief.
"Perhaps she herself does not realize the worth of what she surrendered," Florian replied. "Had the Silverwoods' mage been present, the negotiation might not have gone so smoothly."
Bandorn nodded slowly.
"I see. You may be right."
Florian leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"But even that is nothing compared to the Young Wolf's true plan."
"What do you mean? What is his true plan?" Bandorn asked, his eyes flashing with curiosity.
"The Blue Ogre's magical crystal is rare, yes," Florian continued, "but the Kingdom's mages could do nothing with it, for none of them wield lightning."
"You mean…?" Bandorn leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing.
"In the Young Wolf's hands, if a staff were forged from the Blue Ogre's crystal, that lightning‑crystal staff would amplify your son's lightning magic so greatly that even the Royal Archmage's power would pale beside it!" Florian declared, his eyes blazing with enthusiasm.
Bandorn burst into loud laughter, his voice echoing beneath the vaulted arches.
"Hahaha! That is my son! A true Wolfwood!"
"Think on it," Florian pressed. "The Royal Archmage's fire element is already at a disadvantage against the Young Wolf's water element. Imagine if that water magic were joined by immense and destructive lightning magic! The Archmage and the King themselves would tremble before the Wolfwoods, and the Princess's hand would be all but guaranteed for your son, Andras!"
Bandorn laughed in near ecstasy.
"Hahaha! Yes! Take that, Christina! I have won, and you have lost! You no longer matter to me! The Princess will be ours!"
Florian quickly gestured, lowering his voice.
"Softer, my lord, softer. Lest the Silver Knights overhear."
Bandorn slowly quieted, though his eyes still burned with the vision of triumph.
"You are right… though they may already be in another part of the castle, caution is wise."
The two men fell silent, but the air vibrated with the secret: the Blue Ogre's crystal was not merely a rare prize—it could become the very key to the Wolfwoods' future power.
Meanwhile, in the noble guest quarters of the castle, the six Silver Knights settled comfortably into the spacious, richly furnished room. The walls were adorned with carved oak paneling and silk curtains, while thick carpets muffled their steps across the floor. In the fireplace, flames crackled merrily, spreading warmth through the cold stone walls.
Christina was given a grand canopy bed, while the other knights also found soft, comfortable places to rest their heads. After the long journey, all were grateful for the Wolfwoods' hospitality.
"This is truly a noble chamber," one knight remarked, running her hand across the silk bedding. "Even back home in Silverwood, we don't sleep in rooms or beds like these."
Christina answered with a faint smile.
"The Wolfwoods treat me as though I were still a noble lady of House Silverwood."
"You are still a noble woman," another knight interjected. "Your younger brother still looks up to you as his elder sister, and loves and cares for you."
"It's only your stubborn head that refuses the luxury of nobles!" the first knight laughed.
"But that's why we love you, Captain!" said the second, her eyes shining with respect and affection.
"You're not arrogant like the other nobles," added the third, stretching out comfortably on her bed.
Christina sighed, then waved playfully.
"Girls… I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
Laughter filled the room. The weary knights slowly relaxed, and amid the friendly teasing, the tension born of their meeting with the Wolfwoods finally melted away.
In the noble guest quarters, the six Silver Knights settled comfortably. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, filling the room with warm light. After the long journey, all were grateful for the soft beds and the Wolfwoods' hospitality.
One knight turned to Christina with a mischievous smile.
"And what do you think of the Young Wolf?"
Christina sighed, then answered seriously.
"He is an extraordinary boy. Only twelve years old, yet already possessed of such strong character. Truly, it feels as though he carries the wisdom of an old mage."
"Can children really be that gifted?" another knight wondered. "Most twelve‑year‑olds—even the older ones—can be such fools."
Christina nodded thoughtfully.
"Perhaps he is a true mage prodigy, like those who once stood among the Heroes' company."
"Do you think he will be one of the new Heroes?" the first knight asked. "The time is drawing near for the Demon King to appear—just as the legends say."
"Every five hundred years the Demon King is reborn, isn't he?" the third knight added. "And this is the anniversary."
Christina's face grew grim.
"Unfortunately, the appearance of the Blue Ogre points to this as well. Silverwood has not seen such a dangerous monster in two centuries—at least, according to our mage master."
"And that old codger never errs in such matters," one knight remarked with a half‑smile.
"No luck for you, Captain," one of the knights suddenly remarked.
Christina raised her eyebrows.
"What do you mean by that?"
"If the Young Wolf had been your betrothed back then, I swear you wouldn't have refused him!"
Christina's eyes darkened, though her voice remained calm.
"Perhaps. But fate willed it otherwise."
"Why? There are only eighteen years between you, isn't that right?" the third knight interjected. "Among nobles, when has that ever been a problem? I think you still have a chance with him."
Christina looked at them in outrage.
"You must be joking. I could be his mother!"
"But you're not!" the first knight laughed. "And even at thirty you're still a beautiful woman!"
"That's right, that's right!" the second agreed.
Christina finally stood, a flustered smile on her face.
"You're unbelievable, honestly! I'm going to get some fresh air."
Laughter filled the room as Christina stepped out into the corridor. Behind her, the crackling of the fire mingled with the sound of friendly teasing, but in the captain's heart, more serious thoughts stirred: was it truly fate that had decided so, or did the future still hold surprises for her?