Summoning the bread back to his side, the Fool grasped the little girl's hand and pushed open the door to the headmaster's office. He showed no sign of surprise or emotion upon seeing Walnut standing outside, as if she were utterly invisible. Without sparing her a glance, he walked past her.
"Hey, did you already know I was hiding out here? Is that why you're so calm?"
Hands clasped behind her back, Walnut walked backward beside him, questioning playfully. The Fool, however, gave her no reply, his pace neither hurried nor slow, calm and steady.
His indifference clearly irked Walnut. With a sharp huff, she abruptly raised her hand and jabbed a finger at his nose.
"Oh, I see how it is! Forgotten the pain once the wound's healed, have you? Do you even remember who saved you when you collapsed from your injuries atop Revelation Peak? You ungrateful jerk! Have you forgotten everything I did for you?"
Walnut's memory served her well—she hadn't forgotten what happened that day. But pride prevented her from admitting openly that it was this very man who had saved her. After all, he was still a nameless vagabond. And to be fair, she hadn't really lied either—after he passed out, it was her shrill cries that summoned Headmaster Campa. Yes, indeed! Even if she hadn't administered the rescue herself, she'd contributed. Claiming she saved him wasn't too far off the mark!
Unfortunately, her dramatic outburst did nothing to halt the Fool's footsteps. In the blink of an eye, he rounded the corner and arrived at the lift, pressing the button with his free hand.
Little Bread, whose other hand was not held, reached out toward Walnut, letting out soft whimpers. Other than that, the Fool gave no reaction.
No matter what she did, he simply wouldn't respond. Walnut was now genuinely fuming.
She had been adored since birth—coddled, admired, beloved. Of course, she'd also suffered the king's scoldings and her brothers' pranks from time to time. But never—not once—had anyone treated her as if she were made of air.
Who was this guy? From the very first meeting, he'd barked at her and treated her rudely. Since then, he'd lied, threatened, manipulated her. And now—now that she finally felt a sliver of guilt and wanted to lend a helping hand—this was the face he gave her? Why should she even bother? He could just go ahead and die for all she cared!
Fueled by spite, Walnut suddenly curved her lips into a mischievous smile, stepped forward, and beat him to the lift button. But as they waited in silence, her gaze involuntarily drifted to the briefing document in his hand.
He… had received a mission?
Wait—he got that from Mr. Campa?!
Which meant… No way… even Mr. Goodsay wasn't granted an S-class mission. Could he have…?
Walnut's face turned deathly pale in an instant.
Little Bread reached out once more, hoping to grab her hand. But just as the girl's fingers brushed Walnut's, she recoiled as though electrocuted, her hand springing up to point directly at the briefing.
"I now command you, by royal authority, to show me the contents of that mission briefing!"
At long last, the Fool responded to her—only under the weight of royal command. He raised his eyes, gazed at her briefly, and silently extended the paper toward her.
"Hmph!"
Snatching it from his grasp, Walnut scowled. If he truly had an S-class mission, it would be the most absurd joke in the world. Without the help of Tianlai, how could this wretch receive a mission denied even to the so-called genius and righteous warrior, Dailor Goodsay?
…But if he did receive one… what then?
S-class missions were always issued personally by Headmaster Campa. The Fool had gone in without a mission, and emerged with one. If—just if—it was truly S-class… then what would that mean?!
Her heart began to race. The briefing, though thin, suddenly felt heavy as iron. Taking a breath, she resolutely flipped open the first page—
"D!"
"…Class mission?"
The bold red stamp marking the rank was unmistakable. At that instant, a strange cocktail of disappointment and relief surged through Walnut's chest.
Could it be? Campa had summoned this little pervert into his office… just to hand him a D-class mission? The same kind that littered the announcement boards?
Suspicious, Walnut quickly scanned the mission details.
A brief description: travel to a small village called Desapush, and slay a rank-one magical beast named Vimen.
That was it?
"A D-class mission… for real?"
Only after triple-checking did she lift her gaze from the paper and look again at the Fool. Behind them, the lift finally arrived with a soft ding.
"Hmph."
Walnut turned the page over. Upon seeing the Fool's scrawled signature on the back, she couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"You really are an idiot. And I'm an even bigger one for thinking, even for a second, that Mr. Campa might actually value you. You're nothing but a first-class fool! As if you could achieve anything significant. Here—take your pathetic D-class trash."
She tossed the paper toward him without care, then strolled into the lift, finally at ease.
She didn't wait for him. The door closed, and down she went—alone.
"Heehee, that was hilarious. A fool, a great big fool. And I'm just as dumb for panicking like that. Of course he couldn't have an S-class mission. What was I thinking?"
As the lift descended, she wondered whether Dailor was still waiting. He probably was.
The thought of him inviting her to join his B-class mission—hunting three rank-three magical beasts—made her giddy with anticipation. She began planning her outfit and hairstyle for the occasion.
After all, as a princess of the empire, she could not appear sloppy before the heir of one of its greatest military houses.
"…Hmm? Vimen… the magical beast…?"
Just as the lift was about to open, a name surfaced in her mind.
"Where have I heard that before…?"
Ding.
The doors parted, revealing Dailor, ever the dutiful knight. With a respectful bow, he offered his hand and helped her step out.
"Sir Goodsay…"
"Your Highness, please—address your knight by name."
Dailor bowed low and gently kissed the back of her hand.
"Then… Dailor."
"It is my honor to serve you, my princess."
"Hmm, Dailor. Do you know of a magical beast called Vimen?"
He hesitated, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. His eyes flicked to Insleton, who, after a moment of thought, simply shrugged and shook his head.
"Is it important, Princess?" Dailor was already scheming—if she wanted to hunt this beast, he'd find a way to track it down and release it on the battlefield for her.
Walnut frowned, then shook her head. "Forget it. Just some no-name magical beast. Not worth the attention."
Inselton laughed along, "Indeed, Your Highness. A beast with such a silly name as 'Vimen' could hardly be dangerous."
"Rank one, apparently."
"What? Only rank one?! Hah! That's nothing compared to what Dailor is hunting!" Filte blurted.
Walnut exhaled softly and looked behind her—the lift had already gone back up. To avoid any potential conflict when the Fool arrived, she made an excuse to return to her room. The trio politely took their leave and exited the Tower of Radiance.
………
Ding.
A soft chime. The doors opened.
Cold darkness spilled forth.
Yet amidst the shadows, a tiny girl did not disappear. On the contrary, the darkness seemed to embrace her gently, carrying her outward.
"…Mmm…"
Night had deepened. Little Bread rubbed her eyes, drowsy and dazed. She clutched the Fool's hand, her steps faltering.
With a quiet sigh, he lifted her into his arms. She nestled against his chest, just like she had in infancy, and quickly drifted to sleep.
The stars shimmered silently overhead. Trees rustled softly in the night breeze.
The Fool gazed into the darkness above.
And in his obsidian eyes…
Reflected the light of the stars.