"Huh?"

That was all Ludwig managed.

The Queen, to her credit, did not laugh. Not openly. The maids behind her, however, went so stiff that the entire chamber seemed to develop a second layer of tension. The guards looked everywhere except at Ludwig, the princess, or their Queen, which was impressive considering those three points occupied most of the importance in the room. Even the physicians seemed to suddenly find Celest’s medical report deeply fascinating.

Ludwig looked from the sleeping princess to the Queen, then back again.

"I think," he said slowly, "there might have been a misunderstanding somewhere."

The Queen’s smile became almost innocent. "Is there?"

"Yes. Definitely. Somewhere very large."

"You asked where my daughter was in front of the Emperor, the court, and the Tower Masters while standing bloodied from imperial torture. Then, upon learning she was ill, you offered to seek a dragon for her cure. In many older customs, young man, that is practically a proposal with extra steps."

Ludwig opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Then frowned. "That’s unfair. I ask strange creatures for favors all the time."

"So I have heard."

"I don’t marry everyone I help."

"Fortunate," the Queen said. "The Empire would not survive the paperwork."

A maid made a small choking sound and immediately pretended to cough.

The Queen’s eyes glinted. "Ah, yes. Lady Celine."

"We’re friends."

"Friends."

"Yes."

The Queen looked toward the door through which they had come, as if she could see all the way down to the ruined interrogation chamber. "Friends do not usually break into imperial prisons, tear dungeon doors off their hinges, and almost vivisect old torturers to retrieve their lovers."

Ludwig stared at her.

For the first time in a while, he had no immediate answer.

The Queen seemed very pleased with that.

"We are still friends," Ludwig said eventually, though with less certainty than before.

"Of course," the Queen replied. "In that case, I do not mind my daughter being the second wife."

Every maid in the room froze.

One of the guards inhaled too sharply and regretted having lungs.

The physicians stopped pretending to read.

Ludwig turned fully toward the Queen, horrified in a way neither Sloth nor torture had achieved. "Your Majesty, I think I need to leave very quickly to find that dragon."

"A wise retreat."

"Strategic withdrawal," Ludwig corrected.

"Call it what helps you sleep."

Ludwig decided the conversation had become more dangerous than the Black Dragon’s Curse. He bowed slightly, partly to the Queen and partly to Celest, who remained asleep beneath the pale sheets, unaware that her marital future had nearly become a battlefield. "I’ll go ask the dragon. If he knows what this is, I’ll bring back an answer."

The Queen’s teasing faded, replaced by something quieter. "Do that, and the Empire will owe you more than it can comfortably admit."

She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Go, Ludwig."

He left the princess’s chamber before she could say anything else about wives, second wives, or friendships that involved prison breaks.

Alexander and Tull were waiting in the corridor outside.

Tull took one look at Ludwig’s restored appearance and clicked his tongue. "You clean up fast for a corpse someone dragged out of a butcher’s cellar."

"Practice," Ludwig said.

Alexander’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, as if confirming the wounds were truly gone, then he exhaled. "We need to tell you what happened while you were locked away."

"Please tell me the Second Prince got hit by a wagon."

"No."

"Shame."

Tull grunted. "First, the creatures from the Dark Continent withdrew too far into the Peaks. Scouts tried to follow the trail, but the deeper they went, the worse the pressure became. Not Sloth himself, not directly, but enough corruption and residual authority to make pursuit stupid. The order was given to stop."

"Good," Ludwig said. "Chasing them into their nest after everyone nearly collapsed would be a wonderful way to become decorative bones."

Alexander nodded. "Second, the hierarchy of the Holy Order is in disarray. Titania is currently the leading figure, at least until they can decide how much of their structure is salvageable."

"That should be entertaining."

"It gets worse," Tull said. "Pope Clementine escaped."

Ludwig stopped walking.

Alexander’s expression tightened. "He disappeared during the chaos. Apparently, he was not willing to confront his crimes."

"Cowardice is popular lately," Ludwig said.

"The people imprisoned beneath the Sacrosanctum were released," Alexander continued. "Those still alive, at least. The catacombs have been sealed for now. Red gave full testimony of what happened in the lower chambers, and several priests supported it after Titania compelled the truth from them. The Holy Order lost a massive amount of public support in a single day."

"Good."

"Finally," Tull said, "the Shrike was captured."

Ludwig’s head turned.

"She is in the imperial prison," Alexander said. "Separate facility. Higher security."

A smile slowly spread across Ludwig’s face.

It was not a pleasant smile.

Existence IV.

The thought settled in the back of his skull with a familiar weight. The church had already cleared part of the matter for him without meaning to. The mechanism beneath the Sacrosanctum, the one trapping souls in that rotting place, had been exposed and destroyed during the investigation and sealing of the catacombs. The reward had come through while he had been in chains, quiet and cold inside his soul.

[Existence IV Addendum completed.]

[The mechanism trapping souls beneath the Sacrosanctum has been destroyed.]

[Reward acquired: 100,000 Souls.]

The number had sat there like a treasure chest buried under inconvenience.

And then there was the Demon King.

Chased off. Banished. Forced out before his arrival could mature into catastrophe. That condition had been fulfilled as well, and the reward was already in Ludwig’s possession, sealed safely where no imperial search would ever find it.

[Emergency Objective completed.]

[The Demon King’s descent has been interrupted.]

[Reward acquired: Nephilium Blood: 0.5 L.]

Half a liter of Nephilium.

One hundred thousand souls.

The Shrike captured.

All that remained was killing her and finalizing Existence IV. Once that was done, Ludwig would obtain the ability to move past his current ceiling. No more scraping against the limit like a blade against bone. A new stage. A new opening. A new problem for everyone who thought they knew how difficult he was to kill.

"I’ll need to finish off the Shrike first then," Ludwig said.

Alexander’s expression shifted. "Unfortunately, that’s not possible."

Ludwig looked at him.

Tull crossed his arms. "She’s really hard to kill. Trust me, we tried."

Ludwig smiled wider. "I know."

"That smile is worrying," Alexander said.

"But I’m different."

Neither of them knew the full reason, and Ludwig had no intention of explaining it in a palace corridor. Necros’s blessing had changed things. The title he had gained after killing Envy, Harbinger of Death, was not just decoration. Immortality, regeneration, curse-bound survival, bodies that refused death through old agreements and hidden tricks, all of it could be suppressed now.

The Shrike had survived because others lacked the right kind of ending.

Ludwig had become very good at bringing endings.

"Take me to her," he said.

Alexander hesitated only briefly before turning. "This way."

They moved quickly through the palace and out toward the prison district attached to the imperial complex. Tull walked ahead, barking orders at guards who wisely moved aside. Alexander stayed beside Ludwig, silent for most of the way, though his jaw remained tense. The city beyond the palace was restless. News had already moved faster than law could control. Solania, Sloth, dark magic, the Holy Order, the Second Prince’s arrests, all of it had begun turning into rumor and fear.

They had almost reached the prison gates when the explosion struck.

The side gate blew outward.

Stone, iron, and warded brick tore across the courtyard in a violent spray. Guards were thrown from their feet. Alarm bells screamed immediately. Smoke and dust rolled across the entrance, carrying the stink of blood, burnt enchantments, and something wild.

Ludwig stopped.

A massive werewolf stepped through the ruined gate.

Not one of the beasts from Solania. Not a mindless monster. This one moved with purpose, towering above the guards, fur bristling, claws digging into stone with every step. In one hand, limp but alive, it held the Shrike.

The Treacherous Fanged Apostle.

The werewolf’s head turned.

His eyes found Ludwig through the dust.

Recognition struck both ways.

"You really are a nuisance," the werewolf growled. "I should have killed you back then!"

Then he moved.

He bounded off the broken wall, claws striking stone, then launched himself upward toward the outer rooftops with the Shrike held tight against his side. Guards fired spells and bolts after him, but he was already moving too fast, using walls, towers, and shattered masonry like stepping stones.

A black gale shot out from the palace.

Van Dijk.

The Black Tower Master moved without a word, cloak and shadow trailing behind him as he tore through the air after the fleeing apostle. The chase crossed the prison wall in a breath and vanished toward the outer city, one beast carrying an immortal prisoner, one ancient dark mage following like night given teeth.

Tull looked at Ludwig.

Alexander did too.

"Do we give chase?" Tull asked.

Ludwig watched the two disappear beyond the city’s edge.

For a moment, his mind reached backward.

Death Point remained.

If he truly wanted to kill the Shrike right now, he could do it. He could rewind to the fight with Sloth, run through the entire sequence again, make the same choices, endure the same imperial stupidity, come back faster, and reach the prison before the Treacherous Fanged Apostle broke her out. It was possible. Technically.

The thought made him tired.

Not physically.

Spiritually.

Going through all that bullshit again just to kill a woman who was no longer an immediate threat felt like chewing broken glass because someone promised the taste might matter later. Yes, leaving the Shrike alive could come back to bite him in the ass. Yes, Existence IV would remain unfinished. Yes, delaying power was probably stupid.

But the rewind option remained if things became ugly enough.

For now, Ludwig let the moment pass.

"Nah," he said.

Alexander blinked. "Nah?"

"Nah."

Tull stared at him. "You just said you needed to finish her off."

"I did."

"And now?"

"Now this is annoying."

Tull looked like he wanted to argue, then seemed to remember who he was arguing with and gave up before wasting breath.

Ludwig turned away from the broken gate. "Fine. This is futile now. I’ll just head to the elven forest, I guess."

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. "Is the dragon really there?"

"Yep. Met it. Talked with it. He should have an answer for us."

"When are you leaving?" Tull asked. "And who are you taking with you?"

"Right now," Ludwig said. "And I’m going solo."

Alexander frowned. "Alone?"

"I can’t afford to take anyone with me. The dragon might not show up. Or he might show up and decide breathing in his direction counts as aggression."

"That is not comforting," Alexander said.

"Dragons rarely are."

Tull glanced toward the direction Van Dijk had disappeared. "What about your master?"

"He’s busy chasing a werewolf with poor timing."

"Fair enough," Alexander said after a moment. "We’ll inform the court."

"Tell the Queen I’m doing the strategic withdrawal thing."

Alexander looked at him. "I will not say that."

"Coward."

"Alive coward."

Ludwig smiled faintly and turned toward the teleportation gate.

The palace alarms still rang behind him. Guards scrambled around the broken prison entrance. The city was already preparing for another wave of panic, another report, another political mess. Somewhere beyond the walls, Van Dijk pursued the Fanged Apostle and the Shrike through whatever route the traitor had prepared.

Ludwig let all of it fall behind him.

He had a princess cursed by a dragon.

A real dragon who might know why.

And apparently, if he was not careful, a marriage proposal waiting at the end of it.

"Wonderful," he muttered as he walked alone toward the gate. "I almost miss when problems just tried to kill me."