Taglia and Makisa reach the Royal City palace after crossing the dense jungle, the new black and gold scabbard of the katana in her left hand replacing her broken nodachi.
From the looks of it, this is an ancestral mansion sitting in the middle of the city. There are no acres of sweeping grasslands surrounding it; it simply exists at the absolute center. It has been the roof of the Head Family since the very beginning of their bloodline. The entire mansion is made of wood—there is no concrete or stonework here, giving it the appearance of a Japanese shogun-style establishment. Surrounding it is a wall a few feet high, which is hard to catch with the naked eye because it is completely overgrown and covered by flowers, and vines.
Around the mansion lies the bustling market of Royal City, comprised entirely of tents or wooden structures. From meats to clothing, medicines to weapons, everything is sold here. It features everything from busy restaurants to quiet rest stops. Royal City separates itself into two parts, East and West, using the Head Mansion as the definitive Central point.
If Titan City is what the world could be, then Royal City is what this world once was.
As Taglia and Makisa walk through the market, no one turns to look at them twice. No one noticed Taglia when he walked through Titan City either, but this is different. It is clear these people are fully aware of Heat and the people who use it, but the users are so deeply ingrained in their history that they simply do not react. This is vastly different from Titan City, where most civilians don’t even know what Heat is, which is exactly why when Chaos and Deus attacked, it caused so much damage.
Taglia and Makisa stand in front of the heavy wooden gates of the mansion. Two guards on each side, carrying swords on their belts and holding pikes in their left hands alongside heavy shields, look at them for a moment. Then, they bow slightly and pull open the gates.
As they both walk in, a flight of stairs sits about ten feet away, leading up to the main entrance.
Standing outside that entrance is a beauty that could put angels to shame. This beauty is awfully similar to a certain someone in the East Savannas of Titan City, but unlike that edgy, warrior-like woman, this woman’s clothing is a traditional twelve-layered kimono, or junihitoe. There is a serene smile on her face so captivating that if she walked onto a battlefield, her apperance alone might force both sides to immediately surrender.
She is surrounded by three guards carrying the exact same weapons as the gatekeepers, alongside three maids wearing formal, practical clothing that pales in comparison to the Lady’s extravagance. This visual distinction leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination regarding who among them is Lady Liya.
As Taglia walks up the stairs first, she comes down to meet him halfway and greets him with a tight hug. It isn’t a formal embrace; it is intimate, exactly like one lover receiving another after a long time apart. Taglia lets her touch him without any negative reaction. She is the same height as Lesca—around 5’4″—and as her arms interlock behind his back, he gently places his hands on both sides of her back.
A moment later, she breaks the embrace, looks up into his eyes, and says, “Where were you, my love?”
Taglia, employing a chivalrous, almost gentlemanly manner that is entirely alien to his usual tone, says, “You know me, my love! Always working!”
Standing a few steps down behind him, Makisa literally makes a face like she is about to vomit.
From Makisa‘s perspective, this entire exchange plays out like a chibi Liya hopping down the stairs to jump and hug a chibi Taglia. This is how she views the absolute ruler of the land.
Liya gives him a broad smile and a slight nod, fully accepting his excuse. Then she turns to her left and spots Makisa, giving them a thoroughly disgusted look. Liya‘s radiating face instantly goes stone cold, but protocol demands she greet her guest. With a tight, forced smile, she acknowledges her. “Makisa, you are here too.”
Makisa responds by giving her a cold smirk. “Hey, Li.”
Out of nowhere, Liya‘s composure snaps. She bursts out shouting, “NEVER ADDRESS ME LIKE THAT! I am the ruling Lady of Royal City!”
Makisa lets out a mocking hmph sound, saying, “Lady? …Who has a secret, disgusting relationship with this guy!” She nods toward Taglia.
Taglia actually closes his eyes when Liya screams. He isn’t shocked; he reacts to it like it’s a daily occurrence, treating this sudden, violent shouting as just another one of Liya‘s quirks. Her maids and guards immediately rush down the stairs to soothe her as Makisa and Liya engage in a bitter verbal standoff.
It is Taglia who finally interferes. “Ladies,” he says calmly. “Enough.”
In a snap, Liya returns exactly to her radiant, serene self. She says in a polite, gentle tone, “My sincere apologies, my love.” Then, she turns back to Makisa and adds, “But disgusting? That’s a bit much coming from someone who just ripped that ‘disgusting’ guy off to buy herself a katana.”
Makisa aggressively averts her gaze, effectively losing the verbal spat, while Taglia offers a slight, knowing smile. Liya shifts her absolute focus back to Taglia, holding his arm and escorting him inside, followed closely by the entourage and a pouting Makisa.
They settle into the luxurious dining room. The walls are covered in ancient war paintings: a human utilizing Heat by summoning fire from his arms; a figure with a halo floating above his head, a group of kneeling men in front of him; entire armies charging against a single man walking alone from the opposite side; a man and woman emerging from a single body; and a trinity featuring clouds at the top, a tree in the middle, and crashing waves at the bottom. It is deeply violent artwork, but even there, beauty can be found by the right person. A bright chandelier hangs from the remarkably high ceiling.
At the head of the large, long table sits Lady Liya. On her right sits Taglia, and on her left, two chairs away, sits Makisa, aggressively feasting on meat, fruit juices, and wine.
Liya says, “I am truly relieved that you are here, my love. My uncle has started his crusade against me to take my seat. But recently, there is no news of his latest movements, so I am a little worried.” She looks down at the table, appearing sincerely stressed.
Makisa replies around a massive bite of pork, “Is he senile? Your father gave the seat to you publicly. What doesn’t he understand?”
Liya lifts her head and replies, “Yes, Makisa, you and I share the same sentiment. But there is no changing his mind.” She turns to Taglia, who is casually poking a chicken leg to check how juicy it is, completely unfazed by the threat of war. Liya places her hand softly over his forearm. “All I ask from you… is to be safe.” She looks around the dining room, which is empty save for the three of them, and adds, “There could be traitors everywhere.”
Taglia stops poking the chicken leg. He extends his hand, covering hers on the table, and says, “Do not worry, my love.” He shoots a brief look at Makisa, who genuinely does not give a fuck, and finishes, “We will.”
After dinner, they take their leave. As they walk out of the room and the heavy doors close behind them, Makisa whispers while walking beside Taglia, “What would she do if she were to find out that you were on her uncle’s payroll?”
Taglia, completely unfazed, doesn’t stop or freeze. He replies in a calm, utterly detached tone, “Then it is a must that she never finds out. And I don’t work for her uncle. I needed money, he provided it, and in exchange he asked me to oversee his team. She and her uncle, both are completely independent events.”
Makisa mutters, “Some love.”
Taglia replies, “Precisely some… not full.”
That very same night, Deus attacks the mansion with his four remaining soldiers.
Liya wakes up from the noise, which turns out to be her uncle shouting from the courtyard, demanding she come out because he doesn’t want to stain the family home with her blood. Liya walks outside with her three personal guards and sees that Deus‘s men have already taken out the two guards at the gates and the two stationed around the entrance. The entrance guards have a massive hole in their chests—the undeniable signature of a plasma bullet.
When Liya pulls her gaze away from the carnage to look at her uncle, the remaining five courtyard guards are already charging toward the intruders.
Deus stands safely behind his four brutes. The frontline is held by the guy with the katana—the exact same man Taglia found annoying during the Titan City raid—and a massive guy holding a heavy hammer. Behind the hammer guy stands the mercenary who had fallen at Taglia‘s feet, and behind the katana wielder stands the most muscular of them all, aiming the stolen anti-material plasma rifle.
As the fight rages on between Liya‘s guards and her uncle’s men, it is shortly proven that his mercenaries are vastly superior. The five courtyard guards fall instantly to the katana and the hammer. Seeing this, Liya‘s three elite personal guards charge in, but they are also no match; the sheer size and ruthless experience of the brutes completely outclass their traditional training.
Then, Deus calls out, “Come out here… did you not hear me, niece? I would rather not taint the family house.”
Liya stands frozen in place. Her brain has short-circuited for reasons only known to her. Seeing that she is not moving to surrender, Deus leans to his left and tells the rifleman, “Take the shot!”
BOOMM!
When the bullet leaves the massive muzzle and clears the distance, everyone present knows the target is dead. A shot of that caliber cannot be missed; even if it doesn’t strike her directly, the sheer kinetic explosion will obliterate the target.
Liya, seeing the massive shell screaming toward her, closes her eyes. Not a single tear falls. Her eyes are bone dry, because the shock has made her forget how to even cry.
In that exact fraction of a second, as the bullet enters a ten-foot radius of Liya, Makisa appears from the shadows behind her.
Since the inside of the house is pitch dark and Makisa‘s stature is so small, it is impossible to say whether she was always standing there or if she just arrived.
She simply twists her body, sliding directly between Liya and the incoming round. By the time she sets her stance, the bullet has entered a five-foot radius.
Makisa casually leans forward, bending her knees.
TICKS.
She pushes the blade up from the scabbard with her thumb, grabs the hilt with her right hand, slashes, and—
TICKS.
She sheathes the blade.
The sword clicks back into the scabbard as if it never left, and the plasma bullet drops to the floor, perfectly cut in two.
But even then, why was there no explosion?
Because the sheer, unfathomable speed of the slash generated so much environmental heat from the friction of her blade against the shell that when the metal split, it instantly boiled and sealed the payload shut.
All of this happens in under 0.0017 seconds from the moment the bullet entered the five-foot radius.
The rifleman looks away from his scope and mutters, “What the fuck?”
The terrified mercenary beside him whispers, “Iaijutsu.”
Deus stares, his right eye twitching uncontrollably. “No… it’s something monstrous.”
Taglia casually strolls out from the inside of the house, slowly clapping his hands. “Want me to help?”
Makisa, taking slow steps toward her uncle Deus and his lackeys, says, “These are professional soldiers. If you interfere, I will cut off your balls.”
Taglia smirks. “All yours, then.”
Makisa simply leans forward, bending her knees, and draws her katana out of the scabbard again.
Swoosh.
In a perfectly linear path, she instantly closes the ten-to-twenty-meter gap.
First, she cuts down the hammer guy, cleanly bisecting his leg at the knee. Then, without even shifting her body weight—moving only her right arm in a tight U-turn—she swings the blade backward and completely severs the katana-wielding mercenary’s hand.
Unable to comprehend the physics of what he is seeing, the rifleman desperately starts firing.
The mercenary who once fell at Taglia‘s feet doesn’t even try; he simply turns and runs out through the gate.
Two men are already down, bleeding out on the courtyard floor, slipping into unconsciousness from the blood loss.
Liya is still frozen, her eyes wide.
Taglia leans casually against a wooden pillar.
Deus is absolutely paralyzed, watching this tiny girl defy reality. For a man who prides himself on being a tactician, this is the ultimate nightmare: when constants abruptly become variables.
The rifleman unloads his remaining seven rounds.
BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM.
Makisa turns toward him, drawing her sword, and moves her blade through the air in an ‘S’ and ‘Z’ formation, flawlessly slicing down four of the incoming plasma rounds.
For the remaining three, she simply drops flat onto the ground in a deep crouch. Since the bullets were targeted at center mass, the remaining three fly harmlessly over her head and shatter against the mansion guard wall.
Seeing his magazine is empty and his anti-material rifle is now a useless piece of heavy metal, the marksman drops it and draws a combat knife, trying to engage her in close quarters.
Makisa sheathes and drops her katana onto the ground and smoothly draws one of her tantos.
She does not wait.
As the rifleman charges in, Makisa utilizes the ‘Z’ formation again, taking the shortest possible steps to close the gap and meet him halfway. She traces the ‘Z’ motion perfectly across the marksman’s torso—slashing over his heart, lungs, and kidneys. As his heavy knife arm swings over her head, she simply bows slightly, the way an ordinary person ducks when a doorframe is too short. The marksman drops dead onto the ground.
Seeing his entire elite squad butchered, the once-arrogant, now-terrified Deus pulls out a six-cylinder revolver loaded with explosive rounds. He aims and fires a shot directly at Makisa‘s exposed side.
ZHUUUSH.
Taglia appears between the bullet and Makisa. He lands out of nowhere on the balls of his right foot, casually raising his left hand to catch the explosive bullet out of the air—exactly like catching the pointy head of a flying paper airplane.
As Taglia begins walking slowly toward the uncle, Deus frantically fires the remaining five rounds. Taglia doesn’t even break his stride. He simply leans a fraction to his left, and a fraction to his right, twisting his waist just enough to let the explosive rounds pass him by without moving his core.
Taglia now stands directly above the paralyzed Deus, who has collapsed onto the ground. Deus looks up at him, his voice trembling. “YOU… TAGL—”
Taglia does not let him finish.
With dead, flat eyes, he snatches the gun from the Deus’s trembling hand. He grabs Deus‘s chin with his other hand, forcing his mouth open, and violently shoves the hot revolver barrel deep down his throat, tearing open his cheek flesh. Taglia simply watches with aloof indifference as Deus gags and chokes on his own weapon until he dies.
Makisa slowly walks up beside him, looking down at the corpse. “Why not stab him with the revolver? It looked sharp.”
Taglia looks at her, his presence have returned to normal, and uses that comical, high-pitched tone. “You sword chicks and your stabbing fantasies.”
The maids and the remaining guards at the entrance are absolutely terrified. But as Taglia walks back up the stairs toward her, Liya breaks her frozen state with a burst of hysterical laughter.
Taglia stops in front of her and asks, “What’s for breakfast?”
Liya jumps, throwing her arms around his neck, and kisses him deeply on the lips. “Anything you want, my love… THANK YOU!”
As the three of them walk back inside, Liya keeping her arms tightly wrapped around Taglia‘s, she casually turns her head back toward the terrified guards and maids in the courtyard. In a perfectly calm, serene voice, she orders, “Clean up the mess. Dump the bodies in the jungle. The beasts there should at least benefit from this filthy men.”
In his marble lit meeting room, Chaos is discussing something with Rogue.
The heavy wooden doors swing wide open, and Loyalist steps inside. “Sire… Mr. Deus is dead.”
Chaos turns to him, unfazed. “Alas, a rich fool in the end. Despite supplying him with everything, he ended up being incredibly shortsighted.”
Rogue crosses his massive arms. “Well, you did lure him with a promise of that seat.”
Chaos shakes his head with a mock-sad expression. “I guess I assessed his goal properly, but not his patience to reach it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Nonetheless. We learn from our mistakes. What is next?”
Loyalist hesitates for a second before answering. “In the mansion… there was the same man who destroyed your meteors in Titan City mid-air.”
Chaos’s eyes light up. “Taglia!” he says, a massive, genuine grin spreading across his face.
Rogue glances at Chaos. “Do you want me to keep an eye on him?”
Chaos‘s grin fades into a dark, nihilistic stare as he looks at Rogue and says “Unless you want to lose your last eye, I would suggest you don’t.”
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