The day was never meant to go this way.
What was planned as a rare day of reprieve —a quiet escape to enjoy flowers and forget the looming weight of responsibilities —had now taken a sharp turn. The moment General Charis had muttered the name—Association of Schadenfreude—the tone of the day shifted entirely. And now, here Luke stood, deep inside the headquarters of the Knights of Virencia, with his plans of leisure replaced by uncertainty.
The flower fields still lingered in his memory—petals dancing in the breeze, sunlight warm against his skin, Ilyrana's quiet laugh beside him—but those soft moments now felt distant. The knights' stronghold was colder, not just in temperature but in tone. Conversations were held in hushed voices, faces bore tight expressions, and everywhere Luke turned, there was the unmistakable air of preparation. Of something coming.
