Chương 60: The Calm Before The

As a general rule of thumb, Liliya didn't allow herself to hope. Despair only formed when hope was lost, and so to prevent herself from ever falling into despair, all she had to do was cut hope off at the source. Smother it, suppress it until it became so wilted and withered that it would never again dare rear its head and grip her heart. Then, while she was at it, she might as well suppress her own goals as well. And her desires. And her dreams. She was the daughter of House Volkov, after all.

Her sole purpose in life was to fulfill her duty to her family. Her wants and needs didn't matter, only what she could provide for House Volkov. That lesson had been drilled into her since before she could even walk, reinforced time and time again over the years until it became a core part of her. Quite literally. There was a reason why she had the Concept of Suppression. Liliya had only been eleven years old when she first gained her Concept.

Most people didn't attain their Concepts until their late teens, and it was often a weak, beginner Concept; their fundamental selves were not yet developed or refined enough for the sponsoring god to bestow more than a sliver of their power upon them. Not Liliya, however. She had unlocked a high-intermediate Concept from the very start, granted to her by the god of Order. Such a feat was practically unheard of, indicating just how strong her innate sense of self was.

Her father had been overjoyed, praising her sheer genius. Her older brother, too, had been thoroughly impressed, as even he hadn't gained his Concept until he was fifteen. She had been a little less than enthused, though. For good reason. A person's Concept reflected their innate fundamental being. It was the purest distillation of who they were. Even at her young age, Liliya hadn't known what to feel about the fact that she, apparently, was someone who was defined by suppression.

Even her Conceptual Skill manifested as [Binding Threads] – fine strings of mana that restrained her foes. She swore the god of Order had been a little too on-the-nose with that one. At the same time, however… It wasn't like her Concept was wrong. The very opposite, in fact. For the longest time, she indeed had suppressed her desires, she had suppressed her dreams, and she had suppressed even her hope. That was, of course, until she was forced to partner up with one Levi Ironwood.

Then, the ironclad control she maintained over herself began weakening. Despite knowing that it was a terrible idea, Liliya had agreed to party up with Levi and become Qorbin's apprentice. She had decided to skip the graduation ceremony even though she knew her absence would anger her father and infuriate her fiance-to-be. She had irrevocably defied her family's orders in an incredible, appalling, and unprecedented act of rebellion. And she loved every second of it.

Those few weeks she spent investigating the massacres, meeting the vampire, training under Qorbin, encountering the bandit tribe, attending the festival with Levi… It had been the most fun Liliya had in a long, long time. She had been happy. Ecstatic. The freedom had been invigorating, almost like a dream, and while she hadn't intended for it to happen… Her hope, wilted and withered as it was, had begun to bloom to life once more.

Liliya hadn't even noticed it until she returned to Luxanne and was accosted by the Royal Sentinels at the gate. She should've expected it, but she'd been caught off guard; she hadn't known what to do at first. But then… Liliya had seen it in Levi's eyes, how he was fully prepared to attack the Royal Sentinels and make an enemy out of an entire country. She had heard it in Qorbin's voice, the dangerous edge of a seasoned war veteran ready to throw everything away and enter battle once more. All for her sake.

That was why she had spoken up and surrendered herself to the Royal Sentinels. Liliya couldn't live with herself if they threw away their positions and futures for her sake. Professor Merriweather had already suffered because he stood up for her… Goddess, she hoped he was okay. She didn't want to risk Levi and Qorbin getting hurt as well – or worse – because of her selfish, foolish choice. Because when it came down to it, that was all it was, wasn't it?

Liliya had just wanted to be selfish for once, and for a while, it worked out. But she had to grow up and return to reality eventually. So she did. It was the least she could do for her party teammates– No. It was the least she could do for the first two friends she'd ever made. And as the Royal Sentinels escorted her back to their headquarters, as Theodore Montague greeted her at the entrance with a cold, dark smile on his face, as she was locked inside a private room…

That was when the final vestiges of hope finally left her and crushing despair took its place. Things only grew worse over the next three days. As expected, Montague had been utterly enraged with her. To his exceedingly small credit, he didn't lay a single hand on her; for all his faults, he was still a noble, and as such conducted himself with the impeccable propriety that the position demanded. They had a brief conversation where he berated and admonished her, but other than that, he'd barely interacted with her.

It was completely unlike how he'd behaved with her in the past. It was rather odd, but Liliya supposed he was probably too busy with the wedding arrangements. While she was gone on the mission, Montague had accelerated the marriage plans significantly. Her father had finally finalized the marriage contract, likely not wanting to anger Montague any more than Liliya already had, and Montague had promptly rushed to carry out the wedding as soon as possible. It seemed that he was done waiting.

Stolen story; please report. The official date of the wedding wasn't set yet, but judging by how he'd wasted no time transporting them back to his home city of Lancaster, there was a very good chance that she'd be married by the end of the week. As the heir to a duke, Montague had both the resources and influence to organize a wedding on such a short timeline. The journey to Lancaster took three days.

She was locked in a private carriage the entire time, with half a dozen Royal Sentinels and twice that number of regular soldiers guarding her. They didn't stop at any villages or towns, instead setting up camp out in the wilderness when necessary. She had no human contact of any kind; the Royal Sentinels and soldiers were clearly under orders to keep their distance while Montague remained in his own private carriage the entire time, and by the end of the third day, the isolation was beginning to get to her.

She was almost glad to finally arrive at the city of Lancaster. Almost. Inside the ancestral Montague Castle, Liliya was shown to her room by her three new personal maids. They were nice, if a little distant, as if afraid to get too close. Perhaps that was due to the two Royal Sentinels that accompanied her, the same ones who'd collected her at the gate. Vincent and Oliver, their names were. Once in her room, the maids had quickly taken her clothing measurements before hurrying off.

As Liliya had feared, the wedding was scheduled to take place in just four days. Invites had already been sent out, a high-ranking Priestess from the Holy Church of the Goddess was being summoned to oversee the event, and special gifts and refreshments were being imported from all corners of the continent. The only thing left was to weave Liliya's wedding dress and wait for all the guests to arrive in the city.

Liliya's room was large and lavish, situated on the highest floor, with a luxurious bed in the center and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The sun had already set, and moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting an ethereal silver glow over the interior. However, with the two Royal Sentinels standing guard outside the door, it felt more like a prison cell. But, well… She was used to that, wasn't she? Liliya's entire life had been a birdcage.

She'd done the best she could from within the confines, but ultimately, she was still as trapped as the day she was born. She was never meant to be anything more than marriage material, a political bargaining piece to increase her family's political power. Such was her fate as a noble. She had accepted that since she was young. And yet… Just say the word, Liliya. Please say the word. Liliya closed her eyes and curled up into a small ball on the massive bed, the blankets covering her providing no warmth whatsoever.

It was an egregious display of weakness, but she found she didn't care. I'm sorry, Levi, Qorbin. Please forget about me. Wherever you are, I hope you two are able to continue your adventures. For hers had finally come to an end. It was time for her to fulfill her duty instead. Liliya Montague… It had an awful ring to it, didn't it? At the exact time on the opposite end of the city, three men sat around a table inside a dirty rundown tavern.

The tavern was bustling with people, but for some odd reason, none of them could hear their conversation. The regular didn't pay them much mind; the three were dressed like adventurers, so naturally they had some skills or magical items that granted them privacy. However, if the tavern's occupants could hear what the three were talking about, they'd probably be a lot more concerned. Qorbin Ravenbane slammed his hand down on the table.

"Dibs on Montague's kneecaps."

"Now just hold on a second!" Alistair Merriweather immediately protested.

"Everyone knows that the kneecaps are amongst the most desirable parts. Even if you invoke the sacred right of 'dibs', you can't just claim them unilaterally like that!"

"Ah, you're right," Qorbin inclined his head.

"My apologies, I got a little ahead of myself there. How about we flip a coin for it?" Merriweather grinned.

"Now that, I have no compunctions with." Levi Ironwood chuckled to himself as Qorbin and Merriweather began haggling over Montague's body parts with vigor. Qorbin's anti-eavesdropping dice sat in the middle of the table, preventing anyone from listening in and being horrified. The three of them had arrived in the city of Lancaster two days prior.

Unlike during the vampire investigation mission, there had been no giant falcons available to commandeer, so instead Qorbin, Levi, and Merriweather had spent an entire day and night traveling nonstop by foot, flight, and teleportation – depending on how motion-sick Qorbin got, how cramped Merriweather's muscles became, and how much Levi's magic strained his body.

While Levi's tolerance to using magic had grown exponentially since he'd reincarnated, teleporting a group of people over a large distance still extracted a hefty toll on the body. It was pretty ironic how he had barely experienced any magical overburn while fighting Hawke or his father, but rapid repetitive group teleportation was what finally caused an issue. Merriweather had adapted to the situation well enough.

Levi had given him a very rudimentary cover story, and while Merriweather obviously suspected it had more holes than aged cheese, he didn't question it at all; Qorbin's trust in Levi seemed to be enough as a vouch. Once they were inside Lancaster, Levi and Qorbin had spent the past two days carrying out reconnaissance on the Montague estate, mapping out infiltration routes and devising a primary, secondary, and tertiary plan of attack.

Meanwhile, Merriweather had ingratiated himself with the locals – under a disguise, of course – and extracted several vital pieces of information regarding the city's overall security and defenses. It was difficult work that ordinarily would've required an entire platoon of men, but between the three of them, they'd managed it well enough. Right on schedule, they had seen Liliya's carriage enter the city earlier that day and head straight for the Montague Castle.

She was trapped inside there right now, with the wedding scheduled to occur in four days. A small part of Levi had wanted to wait until the day of the wedding before striking – but he recognized that that was a bit too theatrical, even for him. Besides, he didn't want Liliya to suffer for any longer than necessary. Waiting three days had already been bad enough. So instead, they had decided to execute their plan later that very night.

"Gentlemen, please," Levi said, interrupting Qorbin and Merriweather's quarrel over who got eyeball rights.

"As much as I hate to rain on your parade, aren't you two forgetting something?" Qorbin and Merriweather stared blankly at Levi.

"Oh, right," Qorbin said with dawning comprehension.

"You have advanced healing magic, don't you? We can just recycle the same body parts."

"He can heal too?!" Merriweather whirled to Qorbin in shock before turning on Levi.

"By the Goddess, just how versatile are your skills? Even for an archmage, that's too much, isn't it?" Levi coughed.

"I, uhh… It's complicated. And no, that's not what I was talking about. Someone else deserves to have the full unilateral rights over Montague, wouldn't you agree?" Qorbin and Merriweather shared a glance before Merriweather chortled good-naturedly.

"Ah, fair enough," he said.

"I suppose Miss Volkov ought to have first dibs. She's earned that right through and through."

"Indeed," Qorbin grinned.

"We'll just have to hope she leaves enough scraps for the rest of us."

"Hah! I'll drink to that!"

"Hear, hear," Levi said, smiling as he raised his glass of ale. The other two echoed his action, and as one, they downed their drinks. Above them, the moon shone brightly through the window as it slowly but surely drifted across the night sky. Once it reached its zenith… That was when the three of them would strike.