Reunion

As dawn dampened the stone quays of Servia’s harbor,the city welcomed its first arrivals of the day—not merchant ships,but the Imperial Knight Patrol’s war vessels.

“Ah… solid ground beneath my feet!”

Black exhaled as knights escorted him ashft.

Stepping onto firm earth,he nearly teared up.

Since arriving in this world,he’d known only decks and waves—a life of perpetual drift.

This—this was his first taste of the continent.

“Why are my eyes wet?” he mused aloud.

“Because I love this land so deeply!”

He lifted his gaze, taking in Servia’s grandeur.

As far as the eye could see—towers, spires, bustling docks.

The harbor alone was a hive of chaos:fishing skiffs, cargo galleons, passenger ships—hundreds of vessels moored like a floating forest of masts and ropes.

Onshore, merchants, sailors, tourists swarmed—noble carriages weaving through the throng.

No wonder it’s the Empire’s crown jewel, Black thought.

But as the Knight Patrol marched in,the crowd hushed,eyes locking onto the manacled prisoner.

“To Dragonheart Prison,” the captain ordered.

The squad marched on—

Black flanked by guards,whispers slicing through the air:

“What’d he do?”

“That’s no petty thief—those manacles are for capital crimes!”

“Waste of youth… his life’s over.”

Black bit back a retort.

Great. From castaway to circus freak.

Humiliation aside—his neck was on the line.

Murder meant execution.

He needed an out—fast.

Escape?

Unlikely. Servia’s prisons were fortresses.

And if they executed him immediately?

Game over before he could blink.

Connections?

The Empress?

She’d already tolerated his presence once—

now he’d killed a man and sunk a ship.

She’d be lenient? Unlikely.

His uncle?

Brenna and Leán promised help—but how influential was he, really?

And Jessy—humiliated, vindictive—would surely poison the well.

Surviving tonight might be a miracle.

He scanned his mental Rolodex of Servia contacts:

Alice—still recovering, he couldn’t burden her.

Irena—a duke’s illegitimate daughter.

Her father wouldn’t lift a finger for her.

Jianye?

She’d laugh while they dragged him to the gallows.

That left…

Kristine.

The Saintess—kind, influential, and owed him a favor.

If anyone could buy him time,it was her.

“Make way! Knight Patrol!”

The captain’s shout cut through his thoughts.

Ahead, shrieking voices and a woman’s sobsdrowned out the market’s din.

“What now?” the captain scowled.

Two knights scouted ahead—returning pale-faced.

“Captain—it’s Saintess Kristine!

A drunkard’s causing a scene at the tavern—crowd’s huge!”

“Saintess?!”

The captain paled.

“Move! Protect her at all costs!”

Black’s heart lurched.

Kristine? Here?!

He strained forward—

and through the crowd’s gaps,

saw it:Kristine, pale as parchment,cornered by baying townsfolk.

Tears brimmed her eyes,fingers white-knuckled on her uniform.

Around her, Dragonheart Academy girls formed a defensive ring—two faces jarringly familiar:

Irena—on tiptoe, voice drowning in the noise:

“It’s not true! Saintess saved whoever was closest—she didn’t pick favorites!”

And Jianye—arms crossed, glacial glare silencing the mob like a blade unsheathed.

Yet the crowd wouldn’t disperse.

Curses for the Saintess rained down.

What in the world happened?!

Black’s mind reeled.

Since when are these three besties?

He’d just been thinking of Kristine—and fate threw her into his path, vulnerable.

Perfect.

Or… terrible timing.

Either way—

he couldn’t walk away.