Evening soiree, royal ball.
The Nebulis queen herself had thrown a ball, inviting foreign guests from all over. The men wore swallowtail coats for the occasion, and the girls, evening gowns.
Five days had passed since that night. It was ten PM.
Disappointingly for Salinger, the time and date of the ball were all too easy to ascertain.
……Your trap is utterly transparent, Hydra.
……You made sure I’d find out when the ball was, didn’t you?
They would use this party to eliminate the queen, Mira, and other people of influence.
And the “culprit” would be the sorcerer Salinger.
He was sure the Hydra had already prepared false evidence to prove it, too.
……Normally, I wouldn’t care.
……I wouldn’t care that they killed the queen or that they pinned the blame on me.
Or at least, he shouldn’t have cared.
If it were not for Mira…
If only Mira had not been the tragic heroine on this bloody stage.
……What a rough script I’ve been given.
……An amateurish, indulgent, and drab performance.
However…
He would take the stage. If he would have to be a spectator for the moment Mira became a tragic heroine…
“Just this once. Hydra, I’ll perform on your manufactured stage.”
Day of the soiree, noon.
Salinger stared at the glittering sun and walked resolutely forward, belting out like a performer. “You will welcome me with cheers and applause!”
✦ ✦ ✦
“The sorcerer Salinger will show up. No question about it.”
Day of the soiree, five PM.
The stunning sky had started to run with a madder red.
“The guards are in place as we planned. I, Arken, will take full responsibility of the entire chain of command. You have nothing to worry about.”
Queen’s Palace, Second Great Hall.
The man in the crimson suit belted out in his bass voice as though he was singing.
Arken, head of the Hydra, was the commander behind the plan to throw a sham ball to subdue Salinger.
This great hall was evidence of his meticulous strategy.
The performers playing light music were all astral corps members pretending to be musicians. Even the waiters preparing drinks for the venue were all guards from the royal family.
“Your Majesty, we have another two hours or so until the soiree begins.”
Arken sipped a glass of red wine.
Though he was also likely tasting the wine for poison, his calm demeanor earned him the confidence of the guards working for him.
In contrast…
“Lord Arken.”
Nebulis VII wasn’t even trying to hide her moodiness.
“Though half of the guests are plants, half are real dignitaries from foreign countries. And we gathered the vassals while they were already so busy. After doing all this—”
“Salinger will come.”
Arken held up a screen.
On the monitor was footage from a security camera in the shopping district. A man with a face so handsome that it could put an actor’s to shame strode down the streets.
“He’s in the central state. We endeavored to feed him the schedule of the soiree as well. He will come, I assure you. He’s after your astral power.”
“I don’t mind, but…”
The queen looked at the guests from neighboring countries, who were conversing with one another.
“If Salinger attacks all these guests indiscriminately, will you be able to handle him?”
“That would be convenient, actually. It would give us just cause to subdue him.”
“…”
“We still have time until the curtains open on the plan. Why don’t we take the final stage?”
The head of the Hydra, Arken, slowly pulled his white gloves from his fingertips.
He exposed the back of his hand.
The astral crest of his power, Afterworld, glowed faintly.
“If you will excuse me, Your Majesty.”
He tapped her shoulder. Everyone in the grand hall watched as the queen split in two.
“The clone of me will lure Salinger out to the venue…”
“…while the real me will remain hidden in the Queen’s Space.”
Both queens spoke together but not in exactly the same manner. Though the queen’s two halves used the same voice, they had said different parts of the phrase.
“Indeed, Your Majesty.” Arken nodded.
His Afterworld astral power could create copies of whomever he touched. The doubles were identical in body and scent to the original, such that dogs and machines alike could not distinguish them. Even more impressively, the copies also had the same mind as their original and could operate on their own.
The sorcerer Salinger will never know.
Because he won’t be able to tell that the queen at the ball is the duplicate.
However, the original’s astral power hadn’t been copied.
Once Salinger realized that the queen had no astral power, he would already be surrounded by the Sovereignty’s elite forces.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, let us proceed as planned.”
The head of the Hydra clapped his hands.
“I will remain in the grand hall and intercept Salinger. Until then, Her Majesty will take refuge within the Queen’s Space. Isn’t that right, Francoise?”
“Y-yes…!” The black-haired girl bowed in a panic in front of the head of the family. “I, Francoise, shall accompany the original queen wherever she goes!”
The Zoa, Lou, and Hydra were in formation.
The Lou’s elite forces would confront the sorcerer Salinger at the ball. Francoise, the Hydra’s elite guard, would accompany the queen. And then the person charged with transferring communications between the great hall and the Queen’s Space would be…
“On.” Arken said his name.
“I am prepared, Your Majesty.”
A boy wearing a children’s swallowtail coat bowed. Though he still seemed youthful, his purple eyes were bright with an astuteness that belied his years.
“Nothing is amiss in the Queen’s Space. Your Majesty, I will take you there now.”
On instantly disappeared.
At the same time, Nebulis VII and her guard, Francoise, also seemed to melt into the air.
On had a space-time type astral power called “Gate.” It was a rare power, even among the purebreds.
As that scene played out, Mira watched in a corner of the hall, holding her breath.
……Do you get it, Salinger?
……I warned you. Please heed my message.
Don’t come to the palace.
The royals now considered Salinger a criminal of the worst sort. If he appeared here, she wouldn’t be able to protect him.
“Please… Stay away…”
She let out a raspy plea, almost as quiet as her breath.
Only she could hear herself.
That was when she realized what her own voice—her own heart—wanted her to know.
……Did I…
……really want to have a connection with him this badly?
Don’t come.
Please, let this end without incident.
It was nine thirty PM.
Mira prayed as she watched the short and long hands of the clock on the wall.
At eight PM, the soiree would start.
At midnight, the soiree would wind down.
By one AM, the party would be fully over.
She would normally be asleep by this time. She hadn’t even had a cup of coffee that day, and yet she did not feel the slightest bit drowsy, thanks to her racing mind.
……The soiree is going to end.
……Good. It’s over.
In the end, despite Mira’s anxieties, Salinger did not appear.
Even the guards, who had waited all this time at the ball that would serve as Salinger’s execution site, seemed let down.
They began to file out. As the ball ended, the attendees left one after another.