The knights' eyes narrowed.
"I see… so the wretch is the Emperor's man! Or rather, his elf!"
Bella spoke hopefully.
"I heard there's a reward for leading you to him, isn't there?"
"Reward is only for the criminal's head!" the knight snapped coldly.
"But I helped you find his trail!" Bella protested.
"As a subject of the Kingdom, you are bound to serve the royal family—and with it, the Royal Knights!" thundered the leading knight.
"Well then… at least give me a few coins!" Bella tried.
"Silence, woman! Or you'll regret it!" the knight barked.
Bella lowered her head.
"Very well, I understand."
The Royal Knights hurried out of the slum tavern, their minds already filled with the image of the reward they would claim from the King for this lead. Silence returned to the Ironclaw Inn, but Bella knew: from now on, the city would speak of nothing but the masked thief—Liverpool.
The Ironclaw Inn slowly fell silent. The Royal Knights had already departed, leaving only Bella and Bloki behind the counter. The candlelight flickered faintly as Bella polished a mug, while Bloki leaned on the table with his elbows.
"Just as the Young Wolf predicted," Bella said, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Even I didn't think the Royal Knights would be such fools," Bloki replied with a mocking grin.
Bella's mind drifted back to the conversation a few days earlier, when the Young Wolf, Andras, had visited her.
"Ironclaw Inn? I like the name," Andras had said.
"Hahaha! I hope you don't mind that I gave my tavern that name?" Bella had answered.
"I couldn't have chosen a better one myself. Now then, I have a little job for you…"
The details replayed in Bella's memory: the fabricated identity of the masked thief, the carefully planted evidence, and the entire scheme woven by Andras. The Princess's panties and the letter had been placed exactly where the knights were meant to find them.
In the dim light of the Ironclaw Inn, Andras sat down with a serious expression beside Bella and Bloki. Beyond the tavern's creaking door, the noise of the slums slowly faded, leaving only the flickering glow of candles at the counter.
"I couldn't have given it a better name myself," Andras said as he glanced around. "Now then, I have a little job for you."
Bella's eyes gleamed with hunger.
"A well‑paid job?"
"If you do it well," Andras replied calmly.
"I'm in! What's the task?" Bella leaned closer.
"Yesterday, there was a ball at the King's castle in honor of the Hero," Andras began slowly, almost whispering. "At that ball, a masked thief may have appeared by chance… and stolen a few things from the royal family's possession."
Bella smirked mockingly.
"And I suppose you don't know this thief, not even by accident?"
"You suppose correctly," Andras nodded. "So this masked thief happened to lodge here at your inn in recent days, and he happened to leave behind a few pieces of evidence about himself—evidence that the Royal Knights will happen to find, should they happen to come investigating."
"And I will happen to lead the knights straight to the room, right?" Bella asked, her eyes flashing playfully.
"Exactly," Andras replied. "See, you know how to do good work for me."
Bella burst out laughing.
"Money talks, Bloki barks. Hahaha!"
Bloki interrupted:
"And does this mysterious thief have a name?"
"Yes," Andras replied. "His name: the Magical Thief, Liverpool."
Bella raised her eyebrows.
"What kind of ridiculous name is that?"
"The idea came from the names of my favorite heroes," Andras explained.
"And what were those heroes called?" Bella asked.
"Killerpool and his companion, Werewolf," Andras answered.
"I've never heard of those heroes," Bella shook her head.
"Forgotten heroes," Andras said gravely. "The world no longer remembers them."
He leaned closer, his voice barely audible.
"So then, this Magical Thief, Liverpool, always wore a mask. But when he wasn't wearing it—say, when he was drinking here in your tavern—Liverpool was nothing more than a bald elf, blind in one eye, who came from the Empire and worked for the Emperor himself. And let's say he was a Fire Mage, always playing with flames. Can you handle that, Bella?"
Bella nodded.
"I'll give the Royal Knights a detailed account of this Liverpool."
"Excellent," Andras replied. "Then place these two pieces of evidence neatly in the room where Liverpool supposedly lodged."
"A letter and… a pair of panties?" Bella asked.
"Those panties belonged to the Princess—until yesterday," Andras said, his eyes flashing playfully.
"The Princess's panties? Where should I put them?" Bella asked, a little surprised.
"Slip the letter beneath Liverpool's pillow, and drop the panties beside the bed, as if they fell from his hand," Andras instructed.
"Understood! Consider it already done," Bella answered firmly.
"Perfect," Andras concluded. "Now all you need do is wait for the Royal Knights to reach the slums in their investigation."
The recollection ended, and Bella was back in the present.
"Our task is finished," she said, setting down the mug.
Bloki tossed a crumpled paper onto the table.
"Look, the knights left behind a wanted poster."
Bella unfolded the parchment and studied the drawing upon it. The mask was grotesque—half laughing, half crying, its eyes staring blankly into nothingness.
"Frightening mask. Was he really wearing something like this?" Bella asked, narrowing her eyes.
Bloki shrugged.
"I doubt it. They make wanted posters deliberately terrifying, to instill fear in the people."
Silence settled over the tavern. Bella and Bloki knew their plan had worked flawlessly: the Royal Knights believed the tale, and Liverpool's name now spread fear throughout the entire Kingdom.
In the council chamber of the Royal Castle, a grim atmosphere prevailed. The torches lining the walls cast shadows upon the stone, as though they too took part in the secret deliberations. The King drummed his fingers nervously on the table before speaking:
"Any news of that wretch, Liverpool?"
John Scarlett, Captain of the Royal Knights, stepped forward.
"As it happens, our knights have found his trail."
"And did you capture him?" the King demanded, his voice booming like thunder.
"No," John replied, "but we discovered who he is and whom he serves."
"Then let me hear it! Who is this man?" the King leaned forward.
"A wizard elf from the Empire," John said gravely. "Bald, blind in one eye, and a Fire Mage. The Emperor hired him to steal the Princess's panties."
The King's face flushed red.
"So this is the Emperor's doing?! Those miserable Imperials!"
At that moment, Master Albert interjected.
"It wasn't only the Princess's panties that were stolen. Our secret Magical Book has vanished as well—an artifact held by the Royal High Mages for generations."
"What kind of magical book is this?" John asked.
"No one knows what powerful spells it may contain," Albert answered. "No mage has ever succeeded in breaking its seal."
"Could the Imperial mages unlock it?" John pressed.
"Impossible!" Albert snapped. "Even the Empire cannot have better mages than the Kingdom."
"And what of this elven fire mage, Liverpool? He cannot break the seal either?" John pressed.
"I dearly hope not," Albert replied. "For if he could, the Empire would gain immense power through the book."
The King rose to his feet, his eyes flashing like lightning.
"This is all we needed. As if the Demon King were not enough, now the Empire threatens us once more."
John answered calmly.
"Nothing is lost yet, my King. The Hero is the knight of the Kingdom. Her strength is far more valuable than any magical tome."
Albert nodded.
"That is true. If a book alone held enough power to defeat the Demon King, there would be no need for Heroes."
"What of the Empire? Shall we confront them?" John asked.
"No," the King replied firmly. "We will not plunge into war again over a few stolen undergarments. The Demon King is our primary enemy. Once the Hero defeats him, then she will reclaim the book from the Empire. Until then, we shall act as though we do not know the Emperor orchestrated the theft."
Albert sighed.
"And let us hope Liverpool cannot break the seal."
John spoke thoughtfully.
"Would it not be better if they did? Then the Empire could use that power against the Demons, and the Demon King would fall more easily."
"And what after the Demons are defeated?" the King cut in. "The Empire would turn that power against us."
"So long as Eris protects the Kingdom, I doubt they would dare launch another invasion," John replied.
"Eris will not live forever," the King said grimly. "As King, I must think of the Kingdom centuries from now."
John nodded.
"I understand. There is no good end to this. Very well! Our first goal is to defeat the Demon King and his army. Then comes reclaiming the book."
"Yes, so be it," the King concluded. And the council nodded in silence, knowing the weight of this decision would shape the future of the entire Kingdom.
At the Wolfwood lodging, silence reigned. The sun had already sunk behind the rooftops of the city, the sky slowly turning deep blue as the first stars flickered into view. Andras, the Young Wolf, sat wearily on a bench after the day's training. His arms rested on his knees, his gaze drifting into the endless heavens.
Yet his thoughts did not wander among the stars—they were burdened by secrets.
"I never told Noelle and the others, but alongside Eli's diary, I stole another girl's diary. Yes, the Princess's diary. And what do the two have in common? Both of their owners were in love with their own Hero."
Andras's eyes gleamed as he savored the weight of the revelation.
"Yes, the rumor is true. Princess Anabella loves women. More precisely, she is head over heels for the Hero, Eris Scarlett—who happens to be a woman. Personally, I'm glad of this news. At least I won't have trouble with the Princess."
A bittersweet smile crossed his face.
"It's already enough trouble for me that Christina and Floralys have set their sights on me. Such beautiful women's temptations do no good for my heart. After all, I am a man of culture. And lately, even Noelle and Andrea have been acting suspiciously. Anita and Ironclaw have always been suspicious. How long can I protect the purity of my sacred sword?"
The thought weighed heavily upon him, yet satisfaction filled him as well.
"The Princess's secret will remain safe with me, just as both diaries are safe within my magical vault."
Night slowly descended upon the capital, and Andras knew: the diaries' secrets spoke not only of past loves and desires, but of forces that could shape the future. And he had become their keeper—unwittingly, one of the most dangerous players in the Kingdom.
Bard's Song – Liverpool, the Masked Thief
Performed by: Alexander Loverchild
Hear, good sirs, hear, fair maidens,
In the ballroom's glow occurred the wondrous theft!
A masked thief stepped forth, with laughter, with brazen charm,
Liverpool was his name, and all stood in astonishment.
"I have stolen the treasure, the greatest family jewel!"
He cried aloud, and the King's heart blazed with fury.
Not sword, not crown, not the Dragon‑Slayer's shining glory,
But the Princess's panties he held proudly in his hand!
The guests screamed, the Princess blushed,
"Return them, scoundrel!" she cried in anger and shame.
But the thief only laughed, and fled into the darkness,
Like a shadow mocking the world with his jest.
O Liverpool, infamous, foolish rogue,
Who boasts with panties and earns the King's wrath!
Your name shall live in song, sung by bards for a hundred years,
That at the ball you stole the Princess's secret treasure!