In the next few days, we’d traveled across three of the seven locations.

Three sites. Three chances to slip up. Three opportunities we’d somehow not squandered.

Ilya had done a fine job... no, an exceptional job, of making sure we ended up in the right batch at the right time to reach this location, which happened to be the closest to the capital among the seven.

Now, it might seem like a simple task for someone like Ilya, who wielded so much authority over administrative matters. But if one looked deeper they’d realize it required a frightening prowess of mental ability to precisely guide the path of us four so that we ended up in this exact location at this exact time.

Consider the complexity: there were a total of one hundred and fifty prisoners dispatched as free labor according to the Saint’s demands. Each batch contained twenty prisoners. Seven batches in total.

Simple math, right?

Wrong.

These seven batches circulated across seven locations, always keeping the prisoners mobile so they wouldn’t stick to the same place. The batches mixed prisoners constantly while maintaining the number at twenty, a deliberate strategy to prevent any group from forming bonds strong enough to plan something "funny."

A batch would only move from one place to another after every other batch had completed a circulation.

The sheer number of combinations that arose from this scenario?

Approximately eight multiplied by ten to the power of twenty-five.

Eight followed by twenty-five zeros.

Ilya, the second-best brain in the duchy after Eldrin, didn’t need to concern herself with all those combinations, thank God for that... but she still had to deal with considerable mathematical gymnastics to ensure us four always ended up together in a batch of varying twenty members. And not just together , but in a batch that moved to a particular location so that our next transfer would take us to our desired destination.

Ilya wasn’t Cass’s right hand for no reason. She might as well be as prodigious as Gin.

At any rate, all that careful maneuvering ended today.

Today was the day we transformed from prisoners into captives on the run.

We’d reached the location closest to Ravencourt’s capital city among the seven sites. Now all that remained was confirmation, the green signal from Sinclair Castle.

I turned around to find Sera nodding drowsily, half-asleep. Her silver hair fell across her face as her head dipped forward.

She might have the highest defense and stamina stats among us four, but those numbers meant nothing against aura-awakened bodies. We weren’t bound by stat limits in the same way, though higher amounts of such stats were undoubtedly advantageous when dealing with opponents of the same awakened tier, or during situations where we couldn’t use aura at all.

Lydia slid closer to Sera just as Sera’s head nodded more steeply in her half-asleep state.

She caught her perfectly on her shoulder.

Lydia smiled at the white-haired girl lolling against her. Over the past few days, they’d already formed a sisterly bond. Lydia had naturally taken the role of big sister... which made sense, considering she was a whole three years older than Sera.

"I’m guessing you’re ready?"

Ilya’s voice cut through the quiet crackling of the fire.

I turned to look at her, away from the sister pair. It had been three days since I’d last seen her.

She looked the same in the crimson glow of the fire the four of us sat around. This newcomer had a slight smile on her face.

Guess that’s the green signal from the Duchess.

"Good evening to you too," I said dryly.

Merin and Lydia raised their gazes from the fire to meet the gaze of the newcomer.

"I’m guessing all went well," I added.

"Yes. Selka brought the green light," Ilya confirmed, finally standing before us with her arms on her waist.

There was a sword belted around her waist now, sky blue in color, contrasting beautifully against her black skirt.

Professional even in preparation for combat.

"The meeting is scheduled for around noon tomorrow," she declared.

She held a covered package in her hands. Judging by the logo printed on it, I guessed she’d gone shopping to get us clothes.

Well, we couldn’t exactly walk through the roads of Ravencourt’s capital city wearing these bright orange prisoner outfits.

"I’ll be joining you four after dropping the architect at Starfall Enclave," Ilya said, handing me the paper bag.

I took a look inside. The clothes were all black.

Hmm?

Wait a second.

"Is the logo of the popular clothing store on this paper bag a facade?" I asked, looking up at her.

Ilya gave me a sly smile.

This woman... she was too cautious for her own good.

The clothes were black, perfect for nighttime missions. It seemed these had been tailored in the castle and delivered in a famous-logo-bearing paper bag to avoid suspicion.

I sighed.

Actually, this was fine. I was guessing the mission would be a one-night affair.

But something inside me whispered otherwise.

A prickling sensation at the back of my mind. A warning I couldn’t quite name.

The plan was flawless on paper.

The Duchess had pushed a sudden change in construction schedules, claiming that winter would arrive quickly in one of the seven locations. She’d demanded the architect make swift adjustments so construction wouldn’t stretch into winter, mortar mix became unusable in freezing temperatures, after all.

But the architect only knew how to build what the head architect at the Enclave wanted. So he’d requested a convoy to discuss the issue with his superior.

And that was what would take us to the capital.

We’d sneak into one of the convoy’s wagons and slip out on the road before they entered the Enclave proper. The four of us would wait for nightfall, and by the time Ilya made her way to us, we’d begin the heist.

Since Selka could communicate with Ilya from outside and blend into shadows the best, she’d be our watch.

I knew where to find the evidence in the underground labyrinth. It should be easy overall — just some silent assassinations and blending into the labyrinth’s shadows to get what we wanted.

But...

"Is something wrong?" Ilya asked, catching the shift in my expression.

"Nothing. Just planning out tomorrow," I replied, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Don’t worry. The Duchess will hide you four until the world forgets about you," she answered, clearly thinking I was worried about what would come after

the task was done.

I sighed.

I couldn’t explain my problem to her. We couldn’t explain feelings , could we?

Something was seriously off about all this.

Too convenient. Too neat.

"Hey, Ilya. Have you told Selka to inform the Duchess about what I said regarding the general?"

She nodded. "Selka’s unit is already investigating him as we speak. If what you said is true, we should be able to find his connections with SBV."

I’d told her how he knew future plans of SBV that hadn’t yet been presented to the Duchess. Information he shouldn’t have possessed.

But... was it really that easy to find a mole?

Something here seemed to be happening deliberately... like events were unfolding specifically for us to notice them, for us to formulate our plan of action around that manipulating event.

But what was it?

What was I missing?

"Anyway, take some rest. You should be in your best shape if you don’t want to drag me down," Ilya smirked, showing false arrogance as a form of joke.

"Oh, we’ll see who drags down whom," Lydia said, a competitive spark lighting in her eyes.

So they were rivals now. Figures, they were around the same tier. Might as well compete.

But...

"I would prefer if both of you didn’t drag me down, though."

I was currently their tier too, at least output-wise. Might as well join the banter.

"Says the guy who was a novice until recently," they both snapped at me simultaneously.

Wait.

Why were they pairing up now? Against me?

I blinked as both women turned their unified glares on me, their previous rivalry instantly forgotten in favor of a common target.

Me.

"Traitors," I muttered.

Lydia and Ilya exchanged a look and smiled.