Arthur looked at King Solomon, who was holding into the memory fragment silently. Before he teleported into the workshop, he used his shadow to learn how Solomon created genuine artifacts.
He used a rune.
This face made Arthur question his legacy, but the rune he used was unlike any other before. It was a rune to inscribe runes. The inscribing process was the same for artificial runes, but Solomon can give the artifact a Realty Gate at the end of it.
'Nonetheless, he used a rune.' Arthur still found it unbelievable. He never thought he would witness another person using a rune, making him doubt his powers.
King Solomon seemed to be weighing everything Arthur told him about the memory fragment. With a sigh, he injected mana into the memory fragment.
The fragment lit up as King Solomon began watching the memories. The process took a while, but he opened his eyes again. They were foggy as if he awakened from a long and distant dream.
"Where did he fell into?"
Solomon looked confused, understandably. Arthur knew that he was asking about the dungeon his father fell into after being chased by the mimic.
"I'm not sure. That's a question for you to answer." Arthur smiled. "Your father called the bartender Iskavian. Is it a different kingdom?"
"No, it's the previous name of Freda, Iskavia. After I became the King, I changed it into Freda, the Kingdom of Freedom. That will change if this memory fragment falls into the wrong hands."
"I've realized that. The Law of Racial Equality won't have any effect if the truth becomes known."
"Aren't you afraid that I will have you killed?" Solomon looked at him with squinted eyes, a trace of bloodshed seeping out of his body.
"I trust that you are smarter than that. If I wanted to harm this kingdom or reveal this information, I wouldn't have told you now."
King Solomon nodded with a smile. He walked toward his desk and opened a safe where he placed the fragment. Arthur saw him walk toward a couch and sit, gesturing for Arthur to do the same.
"Tell me, Seika, what other gifts do you have for me?"
"I think the Knight of Courage told you already." Arthur walked and sat in front of him. "Hidden City will change the way Freda works."
"A Nobility-Independent Kingdom." Solomon tapped on the chair. "They call me Delusional King for wanting equality between races. I wonder what the people would say if they know of your ambitions."
"This goal isn't unreachable," Arthur said. "Even if it's hard. The only problem that remains would be the battle strength of the nobles."
"Indeed so," Solomon nodded. "You're tempting me to take you in as my advisor."
"Then we can skip the test you've placed."
"We can, but would the nobles allow it?" Solomon grinned and placed his hand beneath his chin. "This is interesting. You brought a Seika, a Knight's Medal, and my father's memory with you. What more do you have to offer?"
"Greed is the deadliest sin, your Majesty," Arthur said while squinting his eyes. Solomon raised his brows and laughed.
"It's your fault for offering so much. I can't help but expect more." The King then poured himself a drink. "Maybe, just maybe, you'll prove helpful even in that matter."
He muttered with a low voice as if he was speaking to himself. His eyes were warm, bitter, resentful, and yearning. As he sat in front of him, Arthur knew that he was thinking about 'her.'
He was thinking about Ruki, Solomon's love, and Arthur's shadow creation. Both of them had no idea where she was, but they shared a bond through her.
'Maybe Ruki never left Earth because she already exists here.' Arthur wondered, but he can never know.
"Now, it's your turn. What do you want in return? I'm not an ungrateful person, you see." Solomon smiled. Arthur pondered his question as a figure appeared in his mind.
"I want to find the Devils Hunter. He captured someone I know, and I wish to bring them back."
"That's a pity, but the assistance I can offer you is limited. That man shares my views of freedom, but he doesn't trust me to take care of the Verniz. I only know of their general location."
"That will be helpful." Arthur leaned forward, but Solomon shook his head.
"It's not as helpful because they live beyond the Calamity Gates."
***
Dia looked at the sand watch on her desk, watching the sand slip down grain by grain. She sensed the Seika return to his room after he disappeared earlier.
The Order was gone, but a sliver of his powers remained in her core, allowing Dia to know his location. She didn't know where he went to, but she got a general inkling.
Leaving the chair and her sand watch, Dia strode toward the door. As she opened it, she found someone standing in front of her. Dia scowled at the witch.
"What are you doing here?" She said to the witch, who had a mysterious smile on her face.
"That should be my line. Why are you still following the Seika? If you lend Freda your powers, then ruling Alva wouldn't be too much to ask."
"We had a deal," Dia said with a frown. "I'll follow him until he gives me Alva. Those nobles would never negotiate with a Demi."
"Are you sure of that?" Gala walked in, like before, without asking her for permission. "Are you sure that when he gives you Alva, you will leave his side?"
"After we create Hidden City, Freda will have the resources to win the war. The Seika is the only one capable of achieving that. At that time, King Solomon will listen to his suggestion, and I'll leave."
"You'll leave his side?"
"... Yes." Dia frowned. She hated repeating herself, but the witch still looked doubtful.
"Let me ask you this." Gala walked over slowly until she was inches away from Dia. "What would you do if the Seika dies after you leave?"
"That's none of my business," Dia said calmly. The witch smiled and turned to look around the room. With confusion, Dia turned as well.
"Oh Princess, you're either lying to yourself or me." The witch said as she looked at the room.
It was frozen.
Dia gritted her teeth as flames appeared on her hands. She waved her arm and sent a blade of fire at the witch, who dodged easily and walked toward the door.
"I don't care if you leave or not. Just make sure that you won't regret it. After all, the Seika won't be around forever." The witch said before she left.
Dia stood in the room with her fist clenched. The frozen room melted and the furniture dried under her flames. As she was trying to calm down, a knock arrived on her window.
She glanced through the window and found Arthur's puzzled expression. Calming herself down, Dia opened the window to allow him inside.
"What?"
Her tone was harsher than she intended because of the incident with the witch. Arthur looked stunned by her reaction, and he looked around the room.
"Are you alright?" He asked with a frown. "I can feel that you are..."
"That's none of your business," Dia said again, feeling as if he was intruding on her mind. She wondered if he can also hear her thoughts. Can he tell what she felt?
"..." He stared at her silently, the moonlight reflecting off his golden eyes. Dia felt something cold touch her forehead and realized that it was the back of his right hand. "You're feverish."
Her mind told her body to slap his arm away, but she didn't do it. Arthur retracted his hand with a slightly concerned expression on his face.
"There's nothing I can do if it's none of my business," Arthur said, turning away and walking toward her desk. "I have something to tell you."
"...What is it?"
"I think you should stay here in Livia." He tapped on the sand watch, a slight glow covering his fingers, and the frost covering the sand melted. The grains of sand resumed their falling. "Of course, it's none of my business, but that's my opinion."
He turned toward her with a light smile on his face. Her mind needed to process the words he said, and Dia couldn't help but let out a baffled laugh.
"You want to leave me here?"
Her voice sounded hurt, which made her angrier. The anger gathered in her chest like an unmovable mountain, crushing her insides.
"Leave...?" Arthur looked confused. "I just think that you need to start forging connections with the nobles of Freda. Not all of them oppose the idea of handing Alva to you, and you need to give them the incentive."
He was thinking politically now. Even in her moment of rage, Dia admired how fast he adapted to the rhythm of political life. This proved her correct: that he was capable of being a ruler. His suggestion was the right course of action.
'However, why does it hurt?'