Tales of the Ikerite Opera House

Afternoon. The towering floodlights of the Ikerite Opera House sliced through countless motes of dust drifting in the air, refracting them into visible, solid pillars of amber luminescence. The air was suffused with rosin, dust, and the faint, lingering trace of perfume. Several open scripts lay scattered along the apron of the stage, and everything was steeped in the quiet that follows a boisterous rehearsal. "Sigh... Why do I feel like I'm turning into a comedy director?" Abigail's figure sank into the plush, wine-red velvet seat of the first row. Leaning slightly forward, she pressed a hand to her forehead. Her left hand rested upon a crumpled rehearsal log, while the ultra-fine nib of the Hutton fountain pen in her right scratched out annotations and revisions beside the dense text, emitting a crisp, delicate rustle. Following *Holy War Romance: Cinderella Arc*, *Holy War Romance: Half-Witch Arc*, and *Holy War Romance: Half-Witch Dressed as Cinderella Arc*, she had attempted to have her unexpectedly discovered actress, Talia, practice other scripts. Yet the result was invariably the same: no matter what Talia acted in, the actual performance ended up completely at odds with what Abigail had designed. "Why is that?" Antanas was seated beside her. Having just clocked out from that noisy building belonging to the Hutton Times Broadcasting Company, she was still wearing a crisp, capable white shirt and waistcoat. Since the Hutton Times Broadcasting Company wasn't far from the Ikerite Opera House, Antanas had dropped by to find Talia before heading home, planning to walk back together. She could also exchange a few words with Director Abigail while waiting. Just then, a brisk, joyful hum drifted from the stage. Both of them looked up in unison toward the source of the sound. They saw Talia, in exceptionally high spirits, tidying up the props scattered across the stage—an antique silver candelabrum and several heavy, faux grimoires. Today, she wore an easy-to-move-in white casual dress. Her long gray hair was gathered into a neat, refreshing ponytail that bobbed playfully behind her with every light, nimble sweep of her cleaning. The melody Talia hummed was lively and cheerful, and the lyrics drifted clearly into the ears of the two in the auditorium: "The first player's identity is rather mysterious; before crossing over, he handled the art♫." "The second player is a duke's orphan; her conscience she must keep♫." "The third player acts as a bishop, harboring feelings for the lead artist♫." "Finally, everyone turns their eyes to me, asking what role I play♫." Singing up to here, Talia paused in her movements. Resting one hand on her hip, she raised a prop book before her face with great solemnity, as though examining her role card, and then continued with a touch of smug pride: "I look at my identity and say I am♫: "A sunny, cheerful grand princess♫~" The final note was drawn out long, imbued with the playful cadence of a young maiden, rippling out in circle after circle of echoes through the vast, empty opera house. "?" Antanas froze at first. *If you've parodied everything, what's left for him to parody?* *If you play it like this, Lanqi won't even know how to banter with you.* Just thinking about the Talia of a century ago, Antanas couldn't help lowering her head and stirring the floating lemon slice in her glass over and over with a long-handled silver spoon, pretending not to see what was happening on the stage above. *It's time to wake up from that Demon Realm dream,* Antanas told herself. "..." Beside her, the expression on Abigail's face underwent a marvelous journey—first a puzzled frown, as though analyzing the melodic mode of the tune, followed by sudden enlightenment, until finally, her directorial dignity utterly gave way, dissolving into a helpless, affectionate chuckle stuck in her throat as she shook her head. "Forget it. I won't struggle anymore." Abigail tossed the script aside, deciding against any further revisions. The out-of-tune humming on stage didn't cease at all; if anything, it grew all the more brazen and self-assured. Talia carefully set down the freshly polished candelabrum and scooped up a stack of hefty replica magic books. Her movements possessed a curious rhythm—turning, bending, stepping lightly on her toes. Every ordinary motion was rendered with the bearing of an authentic princess. Holding the books, Talia strolled across the stage bathed in pillars of dusty light, her steps airy, looking less like someone cleaning up props and more like a lady taking a leisurely stroll through the garden of her own castle. As her gaze swept over the familiar sets, the faint smile playing at the corners of her lips never faded. She had completely immersed herself in her own world, treating this immense, empty stage as her private kingdom. "Look at her," in the auditorium, Antanas nudged Abigail with an elbow. "Does that look like cleaning up props? It's practically an exclusive behind-the-scenes extra for *Cinderella*. I have zero doubt she doesn't need a script to act at all. Just give her a Lanqi, and she'll start performing on the spot." "..." Abigail looked up. Those eyes, possessing the sharpest artistic discernment, were filled with complex emotions at this moment. "As expected of someone who sang during the decisive battle... That mental fortitude is truly not something ordinary people possess." She rubbed her temples and let out a soft sigh. "Talia! Stop acting and come down to rest! If you keep cleaning, I'll have to count it as overtime! I might get fined for violating Hutton labor laws!" Having said that, Abigail shouted toward the stage. Startled by the call, the "princess" on stage tilted her head in confusion before finally realizing there were still people in the auditorium. "Oh." As though waking from a dream, Talia snapped out of character and walked down the temporary stairs at the side of the stage. She sat down next to Abigail, her bright golden eyes staring curiously at the documents in Abigail's hands. "Writing bad things about Lanqi? Write more; I love reading that." Talia's voice carried a hint of satisfaction. "Go on with you," Abigail shook her head. "I'll never forget the feeling of watching you two perform on stage—it was like riding a roller coaster. If Lanqi hadn't risked his life to save the show, I'd probably be in retirement by now." Without Pranay's personal verification as the troupe's historical advisor, Abigail would have found it difficult to connect Talia with the legendary Demon Realm princess recorded in history books. "If she really wrote sharp criticism about Lanqi, you'd be unhappy again," Antanas leaned forward past Abigail to speak to Talia on the other side. "How could that be?" Talia let out a cold snort in denial. "Take the Protos Royal Magic Academy back then, for instance. Plenty of students voiced dissatisfaction with his philosophy of 'governing a chaotic school with harsh laws, and curing a chronic illness with potent medicine.' You have no idea how brutally that issue of the campus gazette cursed him—it was entirely personal attacks." Antanas shared stories of their past on the Northern Continent with Talia and Abigail. A flash of anger flickered in Talia's eyes, but she quickly suppressed it. "Lanqi, that child... sigh," she shook her head, sounding as though she were blaming Lanqi for suffering grievances without telling her. "What happened after that?" Abigail asked. "Later, Lanqi sent out a real-name survey and received a hundred percent positive rating. He felt there was no longer any problem," Antanas explained. "..." Both Abigail and Talia fell silent. They had no further questions. "I remember back then, Toliado was Lanqi's right-hand partner at the Protos Royal Magic Academy. Yet by the time Lanqi rescued us, he had already run off," Antanas pondered a bit and continued gossiping. "That guy probably got up to plenty of mischief too." Abigail shook her head continuously. She had heard brief accounts of Toliado's time on the Northern Continent, but she hadn't bothered to ask for details. Reflecting on it now, he had probably done his fair share of 'good deeds.' "Toliado was chased all over the Northern Continent by Duke Morotian like a scurrying rat. The final draft of *Holy War Romance* was left behind in the Northern Continent as well. Who knows if it was published smoothly in the Protos Empire." Abigail was quite displeased about this matter alone. "The final part?" Talia asked, intrigued. "Yes. Actually, there's also a *Holy War Romance: Wolf Girl Arc*. But because the *Half-Witch Arc* completely diverged from the original work, it's almost impossible to adapt the *Wolf Girl Arc* into our opera now—unless we stage it as an independent production." Abigail picked up the stack of papers she had set aside earlier and pulled out several pages. Talia and Antanas leaned in from either side to look at the handwritten manuscript. It appeared to be an outline Abigail had summarized for the *Wolf Girl Arc* based on the synopsis. The timeline was set roughly several years after the *Half-Witch Arc*. In a turbulent era of wandering and war, despite feigning madness and imbecility, the demon governor could not escape the discernment of the Demon Realm's ministers. Ultimately, they forced him to command the Demon King's army and embark on a campaign of conquest. Even so, the demon governor was unwilling to take innocent lives. Participating under the guise of a military doctor, he treated friend and foe alike without discrimination. After a certain battle, he took in a young girl of the Wolf Clan. At the same time, however, this deed was discovered by the demon sage. The demon sage prophesied that she was a warrior carrying the ancient bloodline of the Pulin Empire, the guardian pride of that empire. She would eventually grow from a young girl into an avenger. A fire of vengeance would burn within her heart, destroying everything the demon governor possessed. Meanwhile, the governor would be consumed by the passing years, the chronic ailments left behind by his grievous wounds growing heavier with time. If he did not end her life here and now, there would be no salvation for him. The governor had to kill this girl. Otherwise, he could bid farewell to his clan and say an eternal goodbye to the homeland of the demons. Despite the mounting pressure, the demon governor chose to protect her, refusing to slay her in accordance with the sage's counsel. What followed was his struggle to flee the war. Yet both humans and demons stood in his way—or rather, in that era, what he attempted was virtually impossible. Across vast expanses of boundless ocean and perilous lands, he drifted and pushed forward through the treacherous Outer Lands, weathering countless perils and taking a full twenty years to return to the Protos Empire. By the time the Holy War concluded, the Northern and Southern Continents were entirely transformed; the world had turned upside down. The governor unexpectedly concealed his name in the Protos Empire, becoming a beloved doctor—none knowing that he was a demon, the very race the people of Protos despised most. The young girl he saved grew up under his protective lies. Yet the chronic, incurable afflictions left on his body during the war started the countdown on his life. Originally, he could have died in peace as a good man, but he chose to confess his true identity to the people, and confessed everything to the wolf girl as well. From childhood, the girl had been filled with hatred toward demons, and she had learned numerous methods to kill demons directly from the governor's hands. Here lay the cliffhanger: whether the wolf girl would take the chance the demon governor gave her to strike him down with her own hands. According to the opera arrangement Abigail had drafted, at the very end of the performance, the wolf girl stood at the center of the stage. She recounted how, following the demon governor's death, she spent the remaining decades of her life organizing his letters and writings, interviewing those he had saved, founding an orphanage in his memory, and doing everything in her power to tell and protect his story, ensuring his legacy endured. Finally, amidst the chorus of the cast, the wolf girl answered the question that resonated throughout the entire opera: "Who will tell your story?" And with that contemplation, the curtain fell. "We are but tiny souls♫ "Destined to fade with the amber morning light♫ "So let us live in the moment♫ "Singing out loud, without fear♫ "We shall meet again beyond the stars♫" Talia subconsciously stared at the sheet music and sang the lyrics of the final act a cappella. This story somewhat reminded her of the fate of the Holy Polant Pope and Xigelei, which she had witnessed within the Mirror of Tiberius. "Forget it, Tata, don't sing. You're not suited for this song. Unless you find that state of mind you had as Caliera, it always carries the flavor of a lighthearted romantic comedy." Abigail called a halt to Talia's singing. It was clearly a tragic ending, yet when sung by Talia, it inexplicably felt completely off-tone. "That is the outline of the opera. But the actor playing the demon governor refuses to perform no matter what, so the opera for *Holy War Romance: Wolf Girl Arc* can only be shelved." Abigail distributed the pages to Talia and Antanas to browse freely. Since it was merely an initial opera adaptation and would differ vastly from the actual public performance, it wasn't confidential and could be passed around casually among friends. "Why won't Lanqi act anymore?" Talia asked. She knew that although Lanqi was currently serving as the acting dean of the School of Sages at Ikerite Academy, he had the knack for performing well even without rehearsing. If he wanted to act, he could still come. "If you want to fry Lanqi's brain into dementia, just say it directly," Antanas answered on Abigail's behalf. As a former doctor, it fell upon her to make this clear. Lanqi had developed a bit of post-traumatic stress. That day, his brain had already been overclocked during the morning at the Golden Bee Amusement Park. Before he could even rest, he was pushed onto the stage in the afternoon to endure two hours of torment from Talia. In short, whether it was the staging of the *Cinderella Arc* or the *Half-Witch Arc*, none of them had gone smoothly. It would be a miracle if the *Wolf Girl Arc* went smoothly. "I heard from Boss Cat that Lanqi was sitting on a bench in the Golden Bee Amusement Park that day and broke into tears, even claiming to hear Askson's voice," Antanas could hardly imagine Lanqi's mental state. "I do remember that. I saw him crying out of nowhere back then and felt quite bad for him, wondering why tears suddenly fell from his eyes," Talia recalled as well. "Actually..." Abigail waited for the two to finish chatting before explaining the real reason the *Wolf Girl Arc* couldn't be staged to the two demons: "The *Wolf Girl Arc* is a story about returning home. The conviction to return home despite overcoming thousands of hardships is the core of the *Wolf Girl Arc*. But Lanqi has probably never experienced that kind of longing to return home and see a specific person." Abigail pointed at a lyric sheet in Talia's hand. "Oh, he has, brother, he really has," Antanas chimed in from the other side. "That time he heard Tata went to the South Vantina Territory to look at paintings, he sprinted back as if his life depended on it. That was the first time I ever saw him run so fast." She recounted past events in Hutton from before Abigail had entered the picture. "..." Abigail choked up. She glanced at Talia. *You two really do have a gift for comedy.* *You can graft anything onto your antics, no matter how serious the drama.* "Actually, it's not out of the question for me to play this wolf girl..." Talia pondered for a moment. She felt rather confident in her acting skills now. "Lanqi said he won't act again for the rest of his life," Abigail politely declined on Lanqi's behalf. That day after the Golden Bee Amusement Park was Lanqi's opera house nightmare. He had finally come to understand the pain of the Cat Immortal being forced to perform breakdancing on the stage of the Brillda Opera House. "Lanqi hasn't actually been to the Outer Lands of the Holy War era either, so it's hard for him to grasp how difficult it was to drift back to the Inner Lands from out there." Abigail believed that Talia and Antanas, having lived in the Demon Realm a century ago, would certainly understand. Both the Northern and Southern Continents were referred to as the Inner Lands, safe territories suitable for human habitation. Beginning from the border of the Demon Realm, the territory was termed the Outer Lands; the Starfield Battlefield, the Calamitous Wasteland, and the Void Sea were all famous Outer Lands. The conventional laws of the world were mostly warped and broken there. The boundary between the living and the dead blurred; powerful spirits unable to find rest might wander that soil. In some places, time and space were tangled and disorderly, where extreme natural disasters could coexist, and there were islands forever trapped in a thunderstorm that had raged for two million years. Those were realms where ordinary living beings could scarcely set foot. "Lanqi's journey only spans two years at best, and it was entirely a speedrun. There are far too many places in this world he hasn't explored," Talia acknowledged with utter authority. The roads Lanqi had walked weren't even as long as the bread she had eaten. "I don't like the Outer Lands. Once you get used to staying in the Inner Lands, you realize just how wonderful stability is," Antanas leaned comfortably against the back of her chair and spoke languidly. Perhaps assimilated by humans, or simply accustomed to living in human realms, she had already embraced Talia's lifestyle. "How wonderful every day is now..." Antanas's gaze drifted from the stage back to Abigail's pile of manuscripts. Suddenly, a sheet of paper tucked among the documents caught her eye. It was printed on high-grade coated paper, with the dignified emblem of the Brillda Opera Troupe embossed at the header—a two-headed griffin encircling a golden harp. Antanas pulled it out. "Hmm? Is this Talia's?" Looking at this "Brillda Royal Opera Troupe - Payroll Breakdown," she asked Abigail. "Oh, I was just about to give that to Talia." Abigail signaled Antanas to hand it directly to her. "..." Antanas knew Talia wouldn't mind her looking. Even so, she refrained from glancing further and handed it over. Vaguely, Antanas had caught sight of a deduction line at the bottom of the pay slip. It stated that outside of performance hours, Talia had consumed the troupe's prop snacks on stage: 627 fortune dango, 465 Brillda-style waffles, 173 taro pastries, 6 boxes of cranberry cheese crisps, 5 boxes of mulberry cakes, and 2 boxes of red bean cakes. "Antanas, do you have something to say?" Talia had already read a bit of Antanas's thoughts. "It seems red bean cakes aren't very tasty," Antanas analyzed. Otherwise, Tata wouldn't have eaten only two boxes. "You are not allowed to tell Lanqi! Otherwise, he'll definitely laugh at me for at least three days! And do you know? When he laughs at me, he doesn't say it out loud—he just looks at me with this polite gaze! That kind of polite mockery is the most detestable!" Talia grabbed Antanas's shoulders and shook her. "Uh, at most I'll tell him you don't like red bean cakes very much. I certainly won't let him laugh at you," Antanas promised. "That's acceptable then," Talia approved. "...I didn't mind you eating snacks in the first place," Abigail's voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but even more helplessness. "The troupe's prop budget is enough for you to eat until you empty our theater's warehouse. The problem is, if I don't list the deductions in detail, that bastard Toliado will casually steal some of the pastries and eat them. To punish him strictly, I have to treat all staff fairly and keep a clear record of every single expense." She explained to Talia and Antanas. "Yabo again?" Antanas and Talia exchanged a glance. The question that had lingered in their minds for so long resurfaced. "Abigail, why do you dislike Yabo so much?" Serving as the spokesperson, Antanas finally couldn't help asking. "Back in the Demon Realm, he actually got along quite well with many demons who were hard to deal with." "..." Abigail's body stiffened slightly. She remained silent for a moment, and her taut shoulders seemed to relax. Abigail gazed at the empty stage, her eyes drifting toward the distant past. "Dislike? Perhaps," her voice was soft, carrying a self-deprecating smile. "Actually, it's very simple. There's nothing that can't be said." She tilted her head to look toward the grand piano shipped over from the Brillda Opera House, recalling the day of the *Half-Witch Arc* premiere two months ago. Abigail's voice grew distant, as though parting the veil of time, transporting Antanas and Talia back to that same dusk in the Ikerite Opera House. ... The chaos following the premiere of the *Half-Witch Arc* was finally sealed away by the heavy doors of the foyer as the last spectator departed. The already tumultuous performance had even suffered the incident of Lanqi "confessing" to Minerva, pushing the Brillda Opera Troupe past its limits. Fortunately, everything had been salvaged. What followed were ordinary wrap-up tasks. In the vast, empty auditorium, only the "ghost light" on stage remained lit. Considering the immense mental pressure all the actors had endured that day, Abigail had sent them home early. Only she and Toliado were left in the theater to complete the final inventory and cleanup. "Reporting, Director: inventory complete," Toliado's voice drifted from deep within the stage. "Not a single prop missing, nor eaten by anyone. The scores are all archived. Do you have any further instructions?" "..." That day, Abigail had also been sitting in the first row of the auditorium, arms crossed. The volume of unexpected information had nearly caused her brain to crash. The entire performance had felt like a race against time. Abigail needed time to review and digest this grand climax brought about by accidents, coincidences, brilliant improvisation, and... a certain bastard's impromptu accompaniment. If Toliado hadn't played a tune suggestive of a marriage proposal for Lanqi and Minerva, everyone wouldn't have gone completely mad. "Angry?" Seeing Abigail ignore him, Toliado's voice lowered slightly. "..." "Really angry?" "..." Still no response. Toliado walked noiselessly over to the grand piano at center stage, slowly lifted the fallboard, and sat down. "Speaking of which, today really gave me quite a scare. I originally thought I was here to accompany a tragedy; who knew it would turn into a grand... comedy? Or a farce? But don't you think... it's just the thing to relax taut nerves?" He didn't look at her, simply talking to himself. Abigail remained silent. In truth, rather than anger, she felt far more speechless. "Do you still remember this song?" Toliado chuckled softly, his slender fingers settling gently upon the black and white keys. A gentle prelude began to flow through the quiet hall. "No," Abigail finally spoke. After a moment, "I remember. That person knows I would never forget," she corrected herself. "Oh, when I last played it, you were truly just a tiny little girl," Toliado drawled. "Whenever this song is mentioned, it echoes in my mind. I think I was only six or seven back then?" Abigail leaned against the seat, murmuring toward the vaulted ceiling of the opera house. "I had no father, but when I was little, there was a fellow who accompanied me like a father." She reminisced. He was the one who had taught her how to recognize words, read books, read sheet music, and even introduced her to magic. Toliado's playing continued. "Later, he vanished without a trace, as if he had abandoned me. Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned by parents twice?" Abigail spoke toward the ceiling. "..." Toliado grew increasingly uneasy. He had merely spotted a little girl with spatial affinity at an orphanage and given her some guidance on a whim. Perhaps it was an issue of differing perceptions of time. To him, it was no more than pausing to pet a kitten on the street—a fleeting instant that, to the girl, had been an extraordinarily precious period. Getting entangled with a desperate fugitive like him, living hand-to-mouth, was no good thing, so he had stopped lingering with that child. He hadn't anticipated that the girl's talent was even greater than he had imagined. She was not only adept in spatial magic, but excelled even more in machinery, capable of constructing spatial mechanical apparatuses that even he couldn't pull off. Later, upon hearing that the orphanage had been burned to the ground in Ivanos's fire, his regrets came too late. Fortunately, the Goddess of Fate enjoyed playing jokes. That talented child had miraculously survived, becoming one of the few escapees. And when they met again, she was already a powerhouse proposing a partnership to him. "♫Some people live for fortune..." Toliado played dumb, continuing to play the piano. "♫Some people live for power..." "♫Even if you possess all the riches in the world..." With a rare sincerity in his voice, he began to sing with rapt focus. "♫What good is it..." Gone was his usual irreverence and banter, replaced only by a nostalgia steeped in the years. "Abigail, hearing this song, does it feel even a little bit like returning to your side?" Toliado turned his head toward the sole silhouette in the auditorium, his words coming faster. "..." "Not even a little bit...?" Before disappointment could settle in, he resumed singing: "♫Some people search forever... uh... uh..." As Toliado sang, he seemed to forget the words, muttering in quiet distress as he stalled. "Fountain," Abigail prompted. "Right, right. ♫Some people search forever for a sacred fountain..." Toliado continued singing: "♫To keep them forever... uh..." He seemed to forget the words again. "Young!" Abigail corrected him crisply, with an edge of impatience. "♫To keep them forever young..." "I knew you would know," Toliado praised. "♫Some people want it all..." Just after singing one line, Toliado paused once more. He repeated that measure over and over, yet couldn't seem to recall the concluding lyrics. "My Goddess of Fate." Abigail looked away from the ceiling, staring directly at Toliado as though asking: *How can you forget so many lyrics?* "♫If I ain't got you with me..." Hearing that familiar, ongoing melody, she gave up relying on Toliado altogether and sang the line for him. "♫Nothing means anything at all..." Toliado sang along with Abigail's guidance. Even so, he continued to stumble over the words, singing a couple of lines with Abigail before focusing entirely on the piano, as if surrendering the stage for her to sing. This was Lanqi's teaching method. Back when Lanqi first arrived on the Northern Continent, that was how he had taught Zestira, and now Toliado was borrowing it. In the end, Abigail seemed to surrender completely. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the frost in them had melted away, replaced by an intricate web of emotions. Abigail no longer prompted the lyrics; instead, with a gentle, slightly raspy voice, she softly took up the song. Rising, she walked past the orchestra pit, climbed the stairs to the stage, approached the piano, and sat beside him on the bench. "Scoot over," she ordered. Toliado smiled and shifted aside. Abigail placed her hands upon the keys as well. "♫If I ain't got you with me... "♫Nothing means anything at all..." Her left hand took up the bass melody, while Toliado's right hand matched her seamlessly with high-register chords. Two sets of hands—four hands in all—intertwined, chased, and danced across the black and white keys. A solo performance had transformed into a four-hand duet after so many years. "I won't forgive you," Abigail stated haughtily amidst the music. "So you remembered it all... I thought human children easily forgot things from when they were so young..." Toliado finally spoke. Looking down at the keys, he resembled an ostrich burying its head. "To you, it truly was just a brief moment. But don't take all humans for fools." She loved opera because he had taught it to her unconditionally; she hated magic because it was the reason he had noticed her in the first place. Abigail merely focused her fingers on the keys. The music swelled slightly, like a silent debate. "..." Toliado offered no apology, nor did he say another word. The two sat before the piano. Just as a demon had taught a little girl knowledge out of passing whim in an orphanage all those years ago, the curtain finally came down on the farce within the opera house on the day of the *Half-Witch* premiere. ... "And that's the story." As the final note of Abigail's tale faded, the entire auditorium seemed still immersed in that distant melody of waiting and reunion spanning so many years. Talia and Antanas maintained their listening postures, staring wide-eyed at Abigail. Looking at their expressions, Abigail finally burst into laughter. She stood up from the aisle seat, brushed nonexistent dust from her skirt, and the brisk control belonging to a director returned to her. "All right," she waved her hand, dispelling the thick nostalgia in the air. "I'm no storyteller. Rehearsal ends here for today; you two should head home to relax." With that, Abigail retrieved several cards printed with golden little bees from her handbag and pressed them into Talia's and Antanas's hands. The rigid cards were coated with a glossy film, and the crest of the Hutton Crown Company gleamed under the lights of the Ikerite Opera House. "These are deluxe fast-passes and summer-limited tickets for the Golden Bee Amusement Park, purchased under our Brillda Opera Troupe's company account. Consider it a benefit for all troupe staff during this Ikerite tour—naturally, your share isn't missing." Abigail explained. She paused, as if recalling something amusing. "Oh, right. I hear the Golden Bee Amusement Park recently opened a summer-themed water park, and... that 'Love-Hinder Corridor Academy Phase Two' has launched a summer-exclusive edition as well. It seems to be called 'Operation Heartbeat.' Sounds quite challenging; you two should go give it a try." "I refuse!" Before the words had even settled, Talia reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling. "I will never go play with Lanqi in that godforsaken place again!" Her face was full of resistance as she made her righteous declaration. "If you don't go, Side or Hy-baby might end up going with Lanqi instead, you know? Do you want to be an audience member watching Lanqi's heartbeat skyrocket alongside some girl's?" Antanas observed Talia's reaction and deliberately egged her on. "Rest assured. Both Sigrid and Hyperion have their guard up high after hearing my detailed description of the Love-Hinder Corridor Academy. They won't fall for it easily, let alone run off voluntarily to play that most dangerous game with Lanqi." Upon hearing this, not only was Talia unperturbed, she looked just like a queen who had everything well in hand. "True enough; they're both the type to take advice," Antanas conceded with relief. "What a pity, though—we won't get to see Phase Two of the Love-Hinder Corridor Academy," she added at the end, a touch of regret coloring her voice. "Hmph, since neither Hy-baby, Side, nor I will play this with Lanqi, there's no need to worry about anyone going up there to play with him at all," Talia declared smugly.