The Face Behind the Mask
The party popper burst with a loud bang, sending a glittering cloud of golden foam exploding into the air.
“To the Empire’s new glory—Chief Development Officer Serian Elhardt!”
“Cheers!”
Clink—! In the small banquet hall attached to the Armaments Bureau, dozens of crystal glasses rang out with a clear, bright sound. It wasn’t as extravagant as the imperial palace banquet, but the heat of the crowd here burned hotter than anywhere else. This celebration belonged entirely to her.
“Wow, our youngest is now the second-highest rank in the entire Bureau! I’m genuinely moved!”
The senior development officers who had been affectionately calling her “our youngest” and looking after her all rushed over with their glasses raised. Just a few months ago she had been the junior they needed to protect; now she stood above them. Their faces were a mixture of disbelief and boundless pride.
Among them was Chief Development Officer Valentine. His nose was already red from drink as he kept patting Serian’s shoulder with a deeply satisfied expression, like a man admiring a jewel he had personally unearthed.
“I knew it! Hic—I saw it from the very first day she entered the Bureau! That sapling was different from the start, I tell you!”
“Oh please. We all remember you grumbling about some arrogant parachute landing in here,” an old development officer—Valentine’s longtime friend and a fixture of the Bureau—teased.
“When did I ever say that?!”
Laughter erupted from everyone.
“Serian! Here, take a glass! Today’s the day we drink until we drop!”
Ella shoved a champagne flute into Serian’s hand and laughed heartily. Everyone looked happy.
Everyone except the guest of honor herself.
Serian forced the corners of her mouth upward in a hollow smile.
…I’m screwed.
Those two words kept circling inside her head. Chief Development Officer. It was now an indelible brand marking her as the central figure in the Empire’s eventual downfall.
Ah, whatever. At this point, she might as well ride the wave and see where it crashed.
This was the first time she had ever reached for alcohol of her own free will. She wanted to run. She wanted to turn her back on reality.
“Here, Serian! Take a glass! Today’s the day we drink until we drop!”
She silently downed the champagne Ella had pressed into her hand in one gulp.
“Whoa! Our youngest can really hold her liquor!”
In a mood of total resignation, Serian clinked glasses with every single person who came to congratulate her—the chief officers of each development team, the colleagues she had pulled all-nighters with, and even the members of the Night Ghosts.
“Chief Development Officer! We will never forget the grace you showed in saving our lives! Please accept this toast!”
Kaizen and the other operatives gazed at her with eyes bordering on religious fervor. The burdensome loyalty made her stomach churn, but she quietly emptied her glass.
Time passed like that for a long while.
Ugh… I can’t drink any more.
The alcohol had hit her hard; her head was spinning. She wanted to escape—from the noisy chatter, the oppressive stares, the faces full of hope.
“Hey, Chief! Where are you going? The party’s just getting started!”
One of the senior officers grabbed her arm.
“I… I’ll go fetch my outer coat. It’s gotten a bit chilly.”
With unsteady steps, Serian slipped out of the banquet hall and headed for her laboratory.
Creak— When she opened the lab door, moonlight poured in through the windows in a long silver stream. At the end of that beam, sitting squarely in the middle of her desk, was the gift an imperial attendant had delivered that afternoon.
It was a shattered helmet from the Iron Wall Knight Order.
A note from Kaion had come with it.
Restore the glory of this helmet by the next quarterly report meeting. If it’s you, I know you can do it.
— Kaion
“Haa…”
A deep sigh escaped her, followed by a small, involuntary hiccup.
What do I do now…
Her head throbbed with complicated emotions. Right now, she needed the one thing that could heal her—pure, uncomplicated warmth that carried no expectations and no responsibilities.
There was only one place to go.
Her feet naturally carried her toward the imperial stables.
. . .
“Whitey—!”
The moment Serian opened the stable door, a massive shadow burst out from inside. Razor-sharp frozen claws, frost-covered feathers. The divine beast of the north that rode blizzards—the Frost Griffin.
“Kraaang—!”
Instead of a growl, it let out a strangely low, happy rumble. The enormous creature recognized its master and rushed forward, pressing its head against her body in open affection.
“There, there. Did our Whitey miss me?”
Hehe. It felt wonderful. The plush, silky texture of the feathers. Beneath the cold scent of frost lay a warmth allowed only to her. Despite its icy appearance, the creature’s embrace was the coziest thing in the world.
When she buried her face in it, the tangled mess in her mind went completely blank. The drunken haze, the pounding headache, the crushing weight of being called a hero—all of it seemed to fly away like a lie.
No one in the world understood her. They had slapped the label of hero on her and piled on whatever expectations they pleased. But this child was different. It accepted her not as the Empire’s Flash of Light, but simply as Serian.
“So warm… feels so good…”
Serian rubbed her face against the griffin’s neck and, for the first time in a long while, felt true peace.
“Guess what this big sister brought for you?”
With a theatrical ta-da!, she pulled out the hand she had hidden behind her dress. In her palm lay a rare delicacy from the north—frost-kissed mountain strawberries that only bloomed once a year.
“Ah—”
When she offered it, the griffin carefully opened its large beak and gently took the treat. As she scratched under its chin with practiced ease, it let out a contented “Grrrrrr…”
Hic.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe her defenses had simply crumbled in front of this pure creature. Looking into the griffin’s clear, unclouded eyes, the sorrow she had been suppressing surged up all at once.
“Sniff… Hey, Whitey…”
With tears clinging to her lashes, Serian threw her arms around the griffin’s neck.
“I’m… so tired… Huuuuh….”
I only wanted to live quietly. Why won’t the world just leave me alone?
“You’re all I have… Really, I only have you, Whitey…!”
Like a child, she buried her face in the safest embrace the world had to offer.
*
Ian Solaris tilted his champagne glass as he watched Serian from within the noisy banquet hall. Beside him, Elise was smiling with genuine delight.
“Look at that, Ian. It’s been ages since we’ve seen Serian drink like this, hasn’t it?”
She was right. Tonight’s Serian was completely different from the one at the previous imperial banquet. The ice-cold mask was gone. She moved from table to table, clinking glasses with every person.
“She finally looks like her old self. That’s the real Serian! She doesn’t need to be on guard here, so she’s returned to who she truly is.”
Elise sounded sincerely happy.
“…Is that so.”
But Ian’s thoughts were different.
To everyone else, Serian was the radiant protagonist of the party, smiling brighter than anyone. Yet in Ian’s eyes, a deep shadow lurked behind that noisy smile. While others saw only joy, to him it looked desperate—like she was frantically trying to hide her sadness. It even seemed fragile.
…Something’s definitely wrong.
He had known her since childhood. That expression was a habit she displayed whenever she was trying to shake off something too heavy to bear. The brighter she forced herself to act, the heavier Ian’s heart grew.
Sure enough, a short while later she slipped away with unsteady steps.
“Sorry, Elise. I need some air too. My stomach’s a bit upset.”
He could hesitate no longer. After excusing himself, he quietly followed after her.
The place Serian headed toward was, unexpectedly, the special stable on the farthest edge of the Armaments Bureau grounds—the one used to house military magical beasts.
Why here of all places…?
Just as Ian tilted his head in confusion and moved closer, a guard emerged from the darkness to block his path.
“Who goes there!”
“This area is off-limits to unauthorized personnel.”
At the sharp warning, Ian silently pulled out his identification from his coat. The guard took it and held it up to the faint glow of a magical lantern.
Imperial Direct Magic Knight Order — Phoenix
1st Knight Captain
Colonel Ian Solaris
The guard sucked in a sharp breath. The burning sun emblem of House Solaris was engraved on the card.
“C-Colonel, sir! What brings someone like you to a humble place like this…!”
The heir of House Solaris and the youngest commander of the Empire’s elite Magic Knight Order. Never in his wildest dreams had the guard imagined the man would appear at a remote stable in plain clothes.
As the guard began to snap to attention, Ian quickly pressed a finger to his own lips in a “shh” gesture. Then he nodded toward Serian, who had already gone inside, signaling that he was with her. The guard understood immediately and quietly withdrew.
Ian entered the stable without making a sound. Afraid of being noticed, he didn’t approach any closer and hid himself behind a distant pillar.
Faint magical lantern light mixed with moonlight streaming through the windows, casting the interior in a mystical glow.
And there was Serian.
Before her stood the Frost Griffin—a divine beast spoken of only in northern legends—its massive body curled up.
Ian held his breath.
He couldn’t hear the words clearly, but the sight before him was already surreal enough. The cold, heroic mask was nowhere to be seen. With flushed cheeks from the alcohol, Serian was rubbing her face against the giant beast’s feathers. When she whispered something, the griffin tilted its head like a cat. She laughed like a little girl and tickled its chin.
It was a face of genuine peace—nothing like the forced smile she had worn at the party.
Moonlight shattered across her silver hair and pale shoulders. Ian lost himself for a moment in the dreamlike scene.
Then he noticed her shoulders trembling faintly.
He had thought she was laughing.
She wasn’t.
She was crying—silently, face buried in the enormous beast’s embrace, pouring everything out.
Thump.
Ian’s heart sank.
So… everything at the party really was an act.
She had forced herself to smile brightly in front of everyone, but the moment she was alone, the tears she had been holding back finally burst free.
Images of her flashed through his mind: the small, timid girl who used to shrink back in high society. The Empire’s Flash of Light who had isolated herself for her country. The fragile smile she wore in front of her friends. And now, the lonely girl shedding tears no one else was allowed to see.
In that instant, an emotion that had been nameless inside Ian took clear shape.
I want to protect her.
He wanted to carry every burden weighing down those slender shoulders in her place.
The fierce feeling consumed his entire body. It was clear, undeniable—and far beyond mere friendship.
***
The next morning.
“Ugh… my head…”
Serian groggily opened her eyes on the laboratory sofa. A vicious hangover pressed against her temples, and her whole body felt as heavy as lead after last night’s emotional outburst.
She could barely remember how she had made it back to the lab. The only things that felt out of place were the soft blanket someone seemed to have draped over her and her neatly arranged shoes beside the sofa.
While she sat there dazed, clutching her throbbing head, the lab door flew open with a bang—nearly breaking off its hinges.
The Second Prince’s personal attendant stood there, drenched in sweat and panting heavily.
“C-Chief Development Officer! Urgent mission!”
What the attendant held out was a tattered parchment scroll that could hardly be called an official document. The family seal was crushed as if stamped in haste, and dark, reddish-brown stains—impossible to tell whether rainwater or blood—spread across its surface.
It was a desperate plea for rescue, carrying the hopeless situation unfolding in the west.