Zenkyou suddenly stood.
"So. Let's go."
Shura blinked. "Where?"
"For actual food," she replied flatly. "I am not eating whatever Orin made."
Orin gasped dramatically. "I am not that bad at cooking."
Ren raised a hand. "I'm in."
Shura and Yura nodded immediately. "Hm. Hm."
Decision made.
As they headed toward the door, Shura paused.
"Wait… can I inform Master Juro? With Astral Word?"
Ren looked mildly impressed. "You can try."
Zenkyou added calmly, "If you fail, don't force it. Don't strain your Viora."
Before she even finished—
Shura closed his eyes.
He focused.
Not spreading Viora wildly.
Not forcing it.
Just letting it resonate.
A thin glow formed around his fingers.
Symbols shimmered briefly in the air — soft, golden script.
The message dispersed like dust carried by Beacon-light.
Silence.
Yura stared.
"…Even I can barely do that properly."
"You just did it so easily."
Orin narrowed his eyes playfully. "Okay genius. But what about the location?"
Shura froze.
"…Location?"
He tried again.
Nothing happened.
"…Nooo. Now I can't do it again."
The entire group burst into laughter.
Even Zenkyou's lips twitched slightly.
They stepped out into the streets of Ossuarium.
Just before leaving fully, Orin paused.
"Wait. I'm coming."
He slipped back into the kitchen.
A moment later he returned, satisfied.
"Everything's eaten. No food wasted."
Orin Smiled.
The Restaurant
They chose a stone-built restaurant near the inner plaza — warm lantern-light, dark wood tables, and wide windows showing the Beacon glow outside.
Unlike the Academy's rigid symmetry, this place felt alive.
Low chatter.
Steam rising from plates.
Metal clinking softly.
As they entered—
Shura suddenly spotted someone.
A boy sitting at a corner table.
Talking to a girl.
The boy immediately tried to hide his face.
Shura's eyes widened.
He shouted across the room.
"HEY ADRIAN! It's me! Shura!"
Every head turned.
Adrian stiffened.
"…I don't know you."
Shura marched over happily and threw an arm around his shoulder.
"He's my new friend! We met at the Academy!"
Adrian's eye twitched.
"I am not your friend."
The girl sitting across from him covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Zenkyou and the others took a nearby table, clearly enjoying the scene.
The girl finally spoke, smiling warmly.
"So you're Shura."
Shura blinked. "Yes?"
She extended her hand politely.
"My name is Mira."
Shura shook it awkwardly.
"You're Adrian's friend?"
Mira's smile deepened.
"I try to be."
Adrian muttered, "That is unnecessary information."
Mira leaned slightly toward Shura.
"Take care of him, okay? He doesn't talk much. He pretends he doesn't need people."
Adrian nearly choked.
"Mira."
She ignored him.
"He's not as cold as he acts."
Shura grinned.
"I already figured."
Adrian stood abruptly. "I'm leaving."
Mira sighed softly but stood too.
"Nice meeting you, Shura."
She gave a small nod toward Zenkyou's table.
"Your group seems… interesting."
Adrian walked out stiffly.
Mira followed — but not before giving Shura one last amused look.
Another Arrival
Steam curled from the bowls as plates were passed around the table.
Orin was already halfway through his second serving.
"This is proper food," he muttered. "Unlike my culinary genius being unappreciated."
Zenkyou didn't look at him. "Your 'genius' nearly killed Ren."
Ren calmly chewed. "Statistically possible."
Shura laughed, then paused mid-bite.
"Master Juro."
Juro hummed lightly in response.
Shura swallowed.
"What exactly is Xyrrhal?"
The table quieted — not abruptly, but subtly.
Yura's chopsticks slowed.
Zenkyou's gaze lifted slightly.
Orin stopped chewing.
Juro wiped his hands with a cloth.
"A ruin," he said casually.
Shura frowned. "Everyone says that. A castle with weapons. Entities that don't attack unless you touch something."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Where did it come from?"
Silence deepened.
Yura finally spoke, voice even.
"No confirmed records predate it."
Ren added, "Its material composition doesn't match any known kingdom era."
Zenkyou's eyes were on Juro now.
Unblinking.
Juro sighed softly.
"You're all very talkative tonight."
Shura blinked. "So you know?"
Juro picked up his cup and took a slow sip.
Then—
"Oh," he said lightly. "Xyrrhal?"
"Oh. That place?"
A small smile.
"I own it."
Silence.
Orin stopped mid-motion.
Ren's cup hovered just above the table.
Yura's gaze sharpened — barely.
Zenkyou didn't react at all.
Which was worse.
Shura blinked.
"…You what?"
Juro reached for his water.
Zenkyou finally spoke, voice calm.
"I see."
Yura lowered her gaze.
Ren resumed eating.
Orin followed a second later.
Shura looked around the table.
"…Why is everyone acting like that's normal?"
Zenkyou clicked her tongue.
"Because he says nonsense like that all the time."
Juro chuckled.
"It's technically true."
"It is not," Ren replied calmly.
"If you own Xyrrhal, then I own whatever's beyond the Void."
Juro pointed his chopsticks at him. "Ambitious."
Shura frowned. "Wait— so you don't actually own it?"
Juro leaned back slightly, smiling.
"Depends who's asking."
Yura sighed quietly. "He once claimed he invented monsters."
"I said I improved them," Juro corrected.
Zenkyou rolled her eyes.
"I can't expect clarity from that old brat."
"You expect too much from me," Juro replied lightly.
The table loosened.
Orin went back to complaining about the soup.
Ren corrected him again.
Shura looked between them, confused.
"…So you're joking?"
Juro gave him an unreadable smile.
"Finish your food."
And just like that, the moment dissolved.
The conversation shifted.
The laughter returned.
And whatever Juro meant—
If he meant anything at all—
Stayed exactly where it was.
Unimportant.
Or maybe not.
Night — Zenkyou's House
Shura stood in the hallway, staring at Zenkyou's door.
She doesn't sleep.
The thought had been sitting in his mind all evening.
Curiosity won.
He stepped forward quietly.
No guards.
No seals.
No visible security.
That alone felt strange.
He pushed the door open.
The hinges made no sound.
The room inside was empty.
Not "minimal."
Empty.
No bed.
No wardrobe.
No desk.
No books.
No personal items.
Just bare stone walls and a single narrow window overlooking the Beacon-lit city.
It wasn't a bedroom.
It was a vantage point.
A watchtower.
Shura stepped inside slowly.
Even the air felt undisturbed, like no one had ever truly lived there.
"…Who are you?" he whispered.
No answer came.
He closed the door gently and returned to his room.
That night—
He slept.
Zenkyou did not.
High above the mansion, she lay flat against the cold stone roof, eyes open, staring at the artificial glow of the Beacon spreading across the kingdom.
Unblinking.
Watching.
"Shura," she murmured to the night air,
"There is no need for you to know about me."
The Beacon flickered once in the distance.