Mabel instinctively stepped back, tension still coiled in her muscles, but Galen had already assessed her. His sharp eyes took in her uniform and posture in a single glance, and just like that, the killing intent in the air faded—but the edge in his presence remained.
Queen's Royal Corps. That was the only reason she was still breathing. If she hadn't been one of Lucy's, her head would've already been rolling. After all, Galen had just come from the summit—he wasn't in the mood for patience.
"Know your target before you strike," Galen said, his tone flat and unbothered as he strolled deeper into the room like he owned it. "Or next time, it won't be a warning."
"Apologies, Sir Magna. It won't happen again," Mabel murmured, the weight of his aura finally lifting.
"No need to apologize," Galen replied coolly. "You were just doing your job, guarding this fragile excuse of a student."
He barely spared her a glance as his red eyes landed on Liam, who had just dismissed his dagger from his hand and casually resumed sitting on the edge of the bed.
Liam met his gaze with the same blank indifference. "Haven't seen your face in a while."
"Yeah," Galen said with a slight shrug. "Had to do some cleaning up the Nether Realm. Doubt you've heard of it."
Mabel's eyes widened slightly. 'He went to the Nether Realm alone?' The realization settled heavy in her chest. 'That means he finds the demons in this world too boring...'
"Anyway," Galen went on, nonchalant as ever, "I heard you went through some kind of Ascension after an ancient entity took over your body, and now you're strutting around as a high-tier 5-Star?"
"Yeah," Liam replied just as casually.
"Then your nose sensitivity should be sharper now, right?" Galen asked.
"I guess. I haven't been around any hybrids since then, but yeah, I can feel things more clearly now."
"Good. Grab a shirt. You're coming with me." Galen's eyes flicked briefly to Mabel. "Also, when'd you become a whore? Shirtless in front of a woman... and older than you, at that. Got taste, I'll give you that," he muttered under his breath.
Mabel tensed again but didn't respond.
"You're off duty for the rest of the day—and tomorrow," Galen added, now addressing her directly. "If Lucy asks, tell her the brat's with me."
"I... I can't leave without Queen Lucy's permission," Mabel said, caught off guard.
Galen let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like her words physically pained him. "You're what—twenty? Twenty-one? Don't you have a boyfriend somewhere waiting for you to cuddle him? I'm giving you a break. Take it. If Lucy asks, tell her Liam's training under his teacher. Simple."
Then, as if it were an afterthought: "Unless... you have feelings for him?" He turned his gaze back to her with a teasing gleam.
Mabel's cheeks flushed before she quickly averted her eyes. "I don't."
"Good. Then enjoy your evening off," Galen said, brushing past her without a care.
Liam, already pulling on a grey shirt and sliding on a pair of boots, followed. He didn't glance at Mabel as he passed. "Where exactly are we going?"
The corridors of the Tempest Palace echoed softly with the steps of Galen and Liam as they walked side by side. Every now and then, they passed palace knights, all of whom instinctively straightened at the sight of Galen. No one dared breathe too loud, let alone make eye contact.
"Ever been around Zone 8?" Galen asked, his voice flat and disinterested, eyes fixed ahead.
"No," Liam replied evenly. "Since I got here, I've been living in the underground wing. Not exactly itching to take strolls."
"Hmph. You should," Galen said. "Seeing more of the world gives you perspective. If all you do is bury yourself in training and books, you'll end up with tunnel vision."
Liam gave a dry scoff. "Didn't know you were suddenly into giving life advice."
Galen's eye twitched at that. 'That's what I get for trying to be considerate… never again.'
"So," Liam continued, "what's this 'walk' really about? It's nearly dusk. Doesn't seem like your kind of timing."
"We're sweeping Zone 8," Galen said without pause. "Hunting for hybrids and I plan to finish by this time tomorrow."
"Ah," Liam said with a slight nod. "So I'm your living hybrid detector. Better than your crystal, right?" He gestured toward the faintly glowing translucent crystal hanging from Galen's neck.
Galen side-eyed him. "How'd you know what that does?"
"Dove showed me a couple days ago."
"Good. Saves me the explanation," Galen muttered.
They reached the grand front gates of the palace. Two towering knights stood guard, muscular and statuesque, armor gleaming under the twilight.
"Sir Magna," they greeted in unison, saluting sharply.
"Yeah, yeah. Greetings and all that," Galen said, brushing their formality aside with a lazy wave. "Open the gates."
The guards obeyed without question.
As the massive gates creaked open, the golden glow of Tynoon spilled in. Liam's eyes narrowed slightly in awe. The city shimmered in the fading light—its tall towers, bustling streets, and scattered bridges glowing like jewels under the early evening sky.
"Tynoon," Galen said, noticing Liam's reaction. "Slightly bigger than Grandeur City, but far more beautiful."
He stepped forward, motioning Liam to follow. "Capital of Zone 8. Also our first stop for the sweep. If things go smoothly, we'll be done in an hour or two. If not, we're out here all night."
"Sounds fair," Liam replied. "How many cities in Zone 8 again?"
"Tynoon, Nimbus, and Aeris," Galen said as they continued walking.
"Are the others this big?"
"Nimbus comes close. Aeris is the smallest of the three."
"Alright," Liam said. "So where do we begin?"
"Central District," Galen answered. "By nightfall, that area gets packed. Markets, food vendors, music, tourists—the whole deal. If a hybrid's trying to blend in, that's where they'll go."
Liam raised a brow. "Wouldn't that make it harder to pinpoint them? All the overlapping scents, people packed together—it could get chaotic."
"Wrong," Galen replied. "You've Ascended. Your myst sensitivity has definitely heightened. If you can't distinguish a hybrid's scent now, that's on you. So stop whining and keep moving."
He glanced at the horizon. "Sun's almost gone. Let's not waste time."
And just like that, they disappeared into the city.
Tynoon's central district throbbed with energy.
Lanterns swung from ropes overhead, casting warm glows beside floating neon myst sigils that shimmered in the evening haze. The streets buzzed—vendors shouting over one another, their stalls stacked with sizzling skewers, embroidered silks, and softly pulsing myst trinkets. Kids wove through the crowd like mischievous shadows, laughter echoing between stone walls. Street performers bent myst into serpents of flame and birds of ice, earning coins and gasps alike. Nobles brushed shoulders with guards, commoners with travelers—Tynoon didn't do quiet nights.
Galen and Liam slipped through it like smoke.
Galen moved with a loose gait, hands buried in his pockets, gaze half-lidded but alert—sweeping faces, movements, even the flicker of myst signatures. Liam walked a step behind, his presence quieter but sharper, nostrils twitching, eyes flicking with instinctive precision.
"Anything yet, kid?" Galen muttered, not bothering to look back.
Liam inhaled slowly, filtering through scents. "No... just sweat, spices, grilled meat, and bad perfumes."
"Not useful," Galen grunted. "I need the hybrid scent, not a dinner menu."
"I told you it'd be tough in a crowd this dense," Liam replied dryly. "You dragged me into a stew of myst and humanity."
Galen side-eyed him. "Hmph. Did you always complain this much, or is this new since you started catching feelings?"
Liam's tone stayed flat. "Not complaining. Just stating the obvious. And I'm not catching anything."
"Sure. Protector girl'd love to hear that," Galen muttered with a smirk.
They pushed on, weaving through clusters of laughing civilians and barking merchants. Twenty minutes passed. Still nothing—no flicker from the detection crystal around Galen's neck. But then Liam's eyes narrowed, and he stilled for half a second.
"Got something," he said.
Galen's gaze flicked to the crystal—no glow, not even a pulse.
'Either this thing's range is crap,' he thought, 'or the kid's myst sense range is wider than a forty-meter radius.'
"Where?" Galen asked.
"Straight ahead," Liam said, his tone focused.
Galen turned slightly, as if giving Liam space, "Lead the way."