Chapter : 223

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Zinia, Laxmi, and Ira nodded without hesitation. Laxmi sat back down, but her jaw was set with renewed determination. She would protect Luna with her life. They all would.

Ken yawned and stretched dramatically as he got up from his chair. "Field trip at night?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I hope the 9th Prince has good snacks. I am starving."

Naomi shot him a look that could have frozen a campfire. "A girl is dying, and you are thinking about snacks?"

"I think about snacks in every situation," Ken said honestly. "It is a gift."

Naomi grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged him toward the door. "Move it, Ken. We do not have time for your nonsense."

"I am moving, I am moving!" Ken protested weakly. But the corner of his mouth twitched upward, just barely, as Naomi pulled him along. She was back. The fierce, determined Naomi who never gave up. That was the Naomi he liked working with.

The four of them rushed out of the estate and into the cool night air. The capital city sprawled before them, its magical lamps casting pools of golden light along the wide stone streets. They moved quickly through the quiet avenues, their footsteps echoing off the buildings.

The 9th Unit's headquarters was located in the industrial district, a neighborhood full of workshops, foundries, and the constant, rhythmic clang of metal on metal. Even at this late hour, smoke rose from the tall chimneys of Hephaestus's compound, and the orange glow of forge fires could be seen through the windows.

They approached the heavy iron gate. Two large guards in soot-stained armor blocked their path. "The 9th Prince is not receiving visitors. State your business or leave."

Princess Iris stepped forward. She did not raise her voice. She did not flash her rank. She simply looked the guard in the eye and spoke with quiet, undeniable authority. "I am the 13th Princess Iris Belmonte. I need to see my brother. It is a matter of life and death. Now."

The guards exchanged glances. One of them disappeared inside. Less than a minute later, the gate swung open.

As they walked through the gate, Ken glanced up at the massive stone walls of the compound. Unlike the other Royal headquarters, which were decorated with crests and banners and gold trim, the 9th Unit's walls were bare. No decorations. No flags. Just solid, functional stone, stained with soot and scored with scorch marks from a hundred experiments.

"Charming place," Ken remarked, kicking a small bolt that was lying on the ground. "Very cozy. I love what they have done with the industrial wasteland theme."

Naomi did not even bother to respond. She just walked faster, her red ponytail swinging behind her as she matched Iris's urgent pace.

---

The inside of the 9th Unit's headquarters was unlike anything the 13th Unit had ever seen. Where their estate was warm and homey and slightly messy in a comfortable way, Hephaestus's compound was a cathedral of gears, pipes, and steam.

Massive mechanical engines lined the walls of the main workshop, their copper pistons pumping rhythmically. Blueprints were pinned to every available surface, covered in tiny, precise handwriting. Shelves overflowed with strange devices, half-finished inventions, and jars of mysterious, bubbling liquids.

The air smelled of machine oil, hot metal, and burnt coffee. Sparks drifted up from a workbench in the center of the room where a figure was hunched over a disassembled engine, welding something with a tiny, focused flame of mana.

The 9th Prince Hephaestus was not what most people expected a Royal to look like. He was tall and thin, with messy auburn hair that stuck out in every direction. His face was smudged with grease, and his fingers were stained with chemical burns. He wore a stained leather apron over a rumpled shirt, and his eyes had the deep, permanent bags of a man who had not slept properly in years.

He looked up when they entered. His tired, reddish eyes scanned the group, lingering on Princess Iris for a moment. A small, tired smile crossed his face. "Iris. It has been a while. You look terrible."

"You look worse," Iris replied without missing a beat. Despite the grim situation, the smallest ghost of a smile flickered across her face. This was their dynamic. Honest, blunt, and strangely warm.

Hephaestus set down his welding tool and wiped his hands on a rag. "I heard about the Succession War missions. You have been doing well. Better than expected, honestly." He paused, studying her expression. "But you did not come here at midnight to talk about the War. What is wrong?"

Iris did not waste time. She stepped forward and told him everything. Blue Decay. The Glayin deer. Luna's condition. The one-week deadline. She laid it all out in clear, simple words, and her voice only cracked once, when she described the blue veins pulsing under Luna's skin.

Hephaestus listened without interrupting. His tired eyes grew sharper with every detail. When Iris finished, he was silent for a long moment. The only sound in the workshop was the rhythmic pumping of the copper pistons and the soft hiss of steam escaping from a pipe overhead.

Then he dropped his wrench on the workbench with a loud clang. "Blue Decay. I have read about that. It is in the old texts, the ones the Imperial Library refused to archive because they were 'unverified.'" He shook his head. "I should have connected the dots sooner. I am sorry, Iris."

"Follow me," he said. There was no hesitation. No calculation. No political maneuvering. He simply turned and walked toward the back of the workshop, trusting them to follow.

"Heart!" Hephaestus called out as he walked. "Unlock the private library. Full access."

A large, imposing figure stepped out from behind a stack of metal crates. Heart, the Vice-Captain of the 9th Unit, was a mountain of a woman with short, steel-gray hair and arms that looked like they could bend iron bars. She wore a heavy leather coat and a permanent scowl that seemed carved into her face.

She looked at the 13th Unit visitors with deep suspicion. Her eyes lingered on Ken, who gave her a lazy, goofy wave. Her scowl deepened.

"Full access, sir?" Heart repeated, her voice a low, gravelly rumble. "That collection contains materials that are not meant for outside eyes."

"I know what it contains," Hephaestus said firmly. "Unlock it. Now."

Heart held his gaze for a moment, then nodded stiffly. She turned and walked down a long, dim corridor, her heavy boots thudding against the metal floor. The others followed.

At the end of the corridor was a thick steel door with three separate locks. Heart produced a heavy iron key ring from her coat and unlocked each one in sequence. The door groaned open, revealing a room that took Sayma's breath away.

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