Kelton's Den was easy to find. People came and go. One could say there wasn't a second that somebody did not go in or go out. The place was buzzing with people so it was noisy. The sound of constant chattering and seemingly endless blabbering filled the Twelve's ears deafeningly. The noise had reached their ears before they even stepped foot within the building and greatly intensified when they neared the source.

"I don't think it's advisable if we all go in." Rowe told them. "I'll take a few of the Twelve and remain outside to secure the vicinity, just in case a certain somebody gets the idea of escaping. It also helps with the attention."

"Good call." The twins said. "But we wanna go inside!"

"Alright. Those who want to go inside then go, if you don't, stay with me."

"I'll stay." Aneeka said.

"Me too." Elfre sighed.

"I am quite certain the sight of this pub's interior will be too unsightly judging from its outward appearance. I will remain here and gaze at the beautiful evening sky." Raziel told them—poetically, as usual.

"How about you, Valeriana?" Rowe offered.

"Well, I kinda wanna see what's inside. Is it fine if I go?" She answered sheepishly.

"Keelan wants foooooddd!" Keelan exclaimed.

"Well, you guys suit yourself." Aneeka stated.

And with that decided, the others entered Kelton's Den.

"Sure is lively." Tamara commented, bringing her eyes to look around.

They were greeted by a cramped space filled with ruffian-looking and suspicious individuals tugging down bottomless mugs of alcohol. Laughter echoed in split second intervals, sometimes overlapping that the mutterings and casual conversations were obscure.

Corvan leaned to the side effortlessly just as a knife came whistling towards him, letting it strike the wall instead of him. Valeriana could hear the item vibrate as its tip got buried about an inch deep into the wood and the girl had to admit she didn't like how it sounded—although Corvan did look cool.

She doubted she would be able to do that if it was her, though.

With that, she winced and suppressed a shriek, wanting not to seem out of place from her group. They all wore either casual or neutral faces as if nothing happened.

"Doesn't this place seem a little bit too . . . dangerous?" She asked.

"Then go and stay outside with Rowe and the others if you're hesitating." Said Corvan.

Valeriana shut her mouth, not wanting to leave. "I'll just hide behind you."

Genevieve winked at her while patting her on the back. "You'll get used to it soon enough. This won't be the only time you're going to be sent to do this kind of thing."

"The heck do you mean?"

She didn't get to hear the answer of Genevieve as the room suddenly went eerily quiet. All eyes turned to their direction, either questioning, suspicious, or curious.

The Twelve were anything but ordinary. They carried themselves with an air of intimidation, demanding attention everywhere they went. They were confident, somewhat threatening, and people knew they were not to be trifled with instinctively at first sight. Although they did act childishly and a bit inappropriate when not in public, they weren't any less than what they seemed.

"Oho." A voice cut through the silence. "My, my, what do we have here?"

A woman approached them, her fingers curved under her chin. Valeriana noticed the freckles that dusted her cheeks and nose along with the energetic fire that lighted up her ash-colored eyes. The bandana wrapped around her forehead had a deep color of crimson along with small, glittering jewels that seemed to have been sewn into the fabric. Her blond hair that had brownish roots was pulled back into a messy up-do that had a few loose strands that hung by her ears.

She was donned in a white blouse that exposed both of her shoulders to a certain degree and around her stomach was a green corset with laces that hugged her figure. She had on some brown pants that hugged her well-shaped legs and laced boots that went up to her calves. Although she might've been dressed a little bit too suggestively for Valeriana's liking, she still looked like one of those badass fighters she often saw in movies—which she probably was.

"Some pretty guests we have 'ere." She approached Zevlin and traced his neck with her sharp nails. "Tell me, pretty face." She grinned at Zevlin that hinted seductiveness. "What brought you here?"

"I think I should keep our business private." He replied, leaning backwards.

"Oh, really? Won't you tell me, please?"

Her nails dug into his skin, drawing blood. Valeriana wanted to go forward and tell the woman off, but Tamara held her back. She motioned to the fourth-ranker with her lips, winking.

"Hey! Keep your hands off my brother!" Genevieve shrieked, running forward and shoving her off.

The woman took a fighting stance but Charles, who stood beside the first-ranker, swiftly dug out one of his knives hidden in one of his sleeves and pointed it at her without any second of hesitation. She stopped short instead.

"I may not be much skilled in handling knives, but I assure you I'm good enough to cut your neck." He told her bluntly, his tone icy cold. "What is your purpose?"

Valeriana flinched. She knew that Charles kept his tone strict and polite most of the time, but he never sounded like this before—at least, he never used such tone when unneeded. He sounded so . . . how should it be described? Murderous and somewhat . . . threatening. It felt like the person speaking wasn't his usual self.

"Save this for later." Corvan said, sighing. "We have important business to attend to." He made his way around the troublemaker and completely ignored her presence.

Charles hid the knife back in his sleeve. "As you wish."

The woman made a noise of irritation in the back of her mouth. "Hey! Don't turn your back on me when I'm talking to you people!" She told him angrily, turning to look at him walking away. "Are you not aware of the policy that newcomers should receive a beating from me?"

"Ah, what the heck." The eighth-ranker took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the trail of blood that made its way down his neck, ignoring the woman's statement rudely.

Genevieve buzzed around him like a bee, scolding him like she was his mother. "Put some pressure on it so it'll stop! Seriously, stupid! Let me do it instead. You don't know anything about this sort of stuff, so hands off." She slapped his hand away and gave him a shot of her healing power, making him jump from the suddenness.

"Geez, can you be gentler when treating somebody?" Zevlin whined, raking his fingers through his dark red hair.

"Ooh! Ooh!" The ruffians laughed loudly. "They're ignoring her! Haha!"

"Shut up, you fools!" She screamed.

Corvan huffed as he turned to face their challenger, seeing as she was already somewhat red from the humiliation. "We are not obligated to follow any policy that is not at all included in the book of laws." He told her. "I don't see why either of us should waste our time doing insignificant clashes that would hardly make anything worth of our stay here." He said.

"Interesting! Interesting! I feel something brewing! Bahahaha!" Their spectators guffawed.

"What did you say?" She clenched her fists. The woman clenched her jaw as she watched the group walk past her and advance into the room. Valeriana stayed back from them though and debated whether she should apologize for the entire group's behavior or remain quiet.

"Valeriana." Brindon tugged her away. "Ignore her." He advised.

"She's one of the types who like getting involved in fights." Keelan said. "We shouldn't try to cause any trouble while we're here."

"Um . . . but she's . . ."

The Twelve—eight really—kept their eyes forward.

They continued to ignore her which only fueled her rage.

"This is the first time I've seen Caoimhe look so angry." A gruff voice said, not bothering to lower his voice as he talked to the man that sat next to him.

"You can say that again." Another replied.

Frustrated, the woman, whose name was apparently Caoimhe, brought a couple of pointed blades shaped like stars hidden somewhere underneath her clothes and threw it at each one of them.

Valeriana, feeling something coming for her, instinctively turned and caught the object before it even had the chance to bury itself in the skin of her back. She didn't do it like a cool, experienced heroine would. Her hands shot out on their own as she saw the blade zooming straight for her—and a little bit clumsily too.

Shocked, she dropped the blade when it pierced the soft flesh of her palms with a gasp and grasped her hands tightly in instinct. Blood trickled to the floor, dropping in tiny rivulets with a soft 'plop'. It stained the floor with a crimson shade, making her eyes go wide.

She turned to the Twelve to see that they all dodged the ones thrown at them expertly. It seemed they all went unharmed, save for herself. All eyes were on them once more—well, it wasn't like those eyes left them in the first place.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!" Tamara exclaimed.

"Ooh! Ooh! Genevieve hurry! Valeriana's hurt!" Keelan jumped energetically, calling attention towards the injury the fifth-ranker sustained.

"Goodness!" Genevieve exclaimed before she went over to Valeriana when she saw the wound inflicted on the girl. "Are you okay, Valeriana?"

"Well . . ." She looked at the blood welling up from her wound. "It's not that serious. I got something worse before."

"Ha! That's not the best I can do!" Caoimhe yelled at them.

Genevieve ignored the woman and focused on Valeriana. Putting heavy pressure on the wound, she grimaced as she watched her comrade pull the blade out. "What's with you and Zevlin getting injured all the time? You're bleeding a lot, though." She said, referring to the ruby liquid gushing out of her flesh.

"It's really nothing. I managed to catch it in time." She said. "Living in the academy does a lot of things to you. It's scary."

"Let's just thank the gods that nothing worse happened. If you're going to catch a blade, at least catch it between your fingers!" She said. "But this wound is pretty deep. You should be glad it didn't go through."

"Ah." She hissed when her tender flesh was poked. "That'll be grotesque." She commented.

She rolled her eyes. "That girl has the same temper as Courtney, don't you think?" She asked, taking out something from her pocket and wrapping her hand with it.

Valeriana cringed as blood soaked through the thin layer of bandage Genevieve used to dress her wound with. "Yes . . . well . . . I guess so. Ouch! Ugh, I guess I really should've stayed behind with Rowe."

"Just in case," Genevieve paused and placed her palm over Valeriana's wounded hand. "Let me heal you a bit."

"I didn't know you knew how to heal." The fifth-ranker told the other girl, watching as the ninth-ranker gently applied some pressure on her injury with a burst of a healing power's comfortable touch. The girl was almost as good as Olivia. "If I knew you knew how to, then I would've gone to you instead of Olivia."

"I'm not exactly good at controlling my healing abilities, to tell you honestly." She said. "I can only do simple things. I can't heal any major wounds."

"I-I see . . ."

"Well, aside from Valeriana getting hurt, no one else sustained any injury." Charles evaluated, glancing between the members of his group. "I'm afraid I didn't expect things to turn out this way. I should've known she would've targeted us as well aside from the first or eighth-ranker."

"How brazen." Corvan's voice sharply cut through the air. The first-ranker turned, flashing a pair of angered eyes at Valeriana before turning to Caoimhe. His glower worsened, causing tension to rise within the room like crackling electricity. There was no one in the room who did not feel his anger since it ruled over the original ambiance of the building. This time, all eyes literally turned to the man and the room turned painfully quiet you could really hear a pin drop.

"Do you think I will tolerate your impudence?" He asked her. "I'll teach you what it's like when you act out impertinently in my presence."

"You're kidding me." Valeriana told her in disbelief, watching as the other members of the circle backed away and cleared a path for the first-ranker. "I called him an ass so many times, suffocated him, and he snaps when you throw one freaking blade at him? Really?"

"Well . . . this is entirely unusual." Tamara said. " But heck yeah! A fight!"

"Hey, Corvan." Keelan gulped. "Calm down, will you?"

"Seriously?" Tamara waved her hand dismissively. "Better get out of this place before we get caught up in the cross-fire."

"And there'll literally be a fire, trust me." Zevlin muttered, yawning.

"I do not prefer trouble." Charles pushed his glasses up and sighed. "But if you are going to fight, Corvan, I want you to not to bring too much damage since this business brings a lot of revenue to the town." He took out his notebook and started looking over god-knows-what. "Inflicting great damages would only cause the local government to support its re-establishment. The corresponding official organization would then have to take responsibility for it by releasing funds . . . but, then, I could always ask the Arlandian Legislature to take responsibility for their heir's actions . . ." He ranted on and on before taking out a small pen and scribbling down notes. At that point, his voice toned down degrees that he was all but muttering to himself. "I could also throw in an additional twenty percent for damage penalties for defying the Supreme Continental Alliance Treaty . . . yes, that would garner about sixty percent more than the usual earnings this pub could acquire in two months. That would prove to be very beneficial to the Larkovian economy . . ." He closed his notebook after a while and hid it in one of his pockets. "All right Corvan, you can go ahead and go berserk as you wish."

With that, the fourth-ranker gave a bone-chilling grin that screamed of his deviousness.

"You people . . ." Valeriana frowned. "You're going to leave it like that? You won't try to do anything?"

"Well, it's not like anyone wants to stop Corvan." Tamara shrugged, hooking her arm around Charles and dragging him away. "Let's get out of here."

"The door." Brindon did a three hundred and sixty degrees turn.

"Hey! You guys are forgetting what we're here for!"

Their conversation filled the silent tavern, catching the attention of a man sitting on a stool in front of the bar to sigh. Out of the people who either stood or sat in one place in a state of quietness while watching a group of new kids and a famous, local fighter in anticipation, he seemed to be the only one who looked unfazed and completely uninterested. In fact, the expression he had on his face said that he felt more bothered.

He brushed a lock of golden hair that fell on his face, making sure his hood shadowed his golden eyes as well so that his identity was completely hidden. He didn't particularly like walking around with an excessively long cloth swishing around his back, so he preferred a hood that went around his neck like a scarf, held in place by a silver brooch in the shape of a bird.

Really. Having this sort of appearance was troublesome when you try to mingle with the common people.

He stood up from his seat in front of the bar and made his way to the scene. "Ah, what a bother." He complained under his breath. "Although I hated to leave my seat since somebody else would take it . . . and I waited a long time to find a vacant spot, too! I suppose I have no choice." He yawned heavily.

His footsteps caught the attention of Valeriana, who looked his way curiously with confused eyes. He saw a strange glint being reflected in her blue orbs that he momentarily stopped to take in her appearance, gazing straight into those ocean-like depths in utter shock. The honey-golden tresses that fell around her shoulders framed her soft features.

Well, how shocking.

Still, there was no time to stand around acting dumbfounded.

He looked over the familiar face of the son of the Lord and Lady of Arlandia who currently burned in a blaze of fire. The flames crackled and licked around his body, roaring loudly that warmth filled the whole room. Though, no matter how wild the flames seemed, it never once seemed to harm him—or his clothes, for the matter.

"Alright." He said. "Play time's over." He told them. "Children these days really have the tendency to get into a fight often. Such impatience." A sigh escaped his lips.

Charles frowned at his sudden interference while the others merely gaped at his audacity. The man then went over to the first-ranker, placed a hand on his shoulder, and smiled. Corvan glared at him threateningly until he uttered words which made everyone gasp.

"What are you—"

"Nullify." He said.

The flames that burned around the young lord's form immediately dissipated, sizzling as if water was splashed onto him. Corvan himself felt taken aback after having his own power negated unexpectedly that he staggered, feeling his strength suddenly drained from his body. Valeriana ran immediately to his side, catching him before he slumped and fell on the floor.

"Ah, god, you're heavy." The girl muttered, struggling to keep her back straight.

"I'll help!" Keelan exclaimed, running forward and pulling on Corvan's other arm.

"We're making quite a scene here, people." He told them, watching as Keelan effortlessly towed the first and fifth-ranker with him. "I think it's better if we take this to another place."

"You are . . ." Charles gaped for a few seconds before giving out a sigh. "And here I thought I could obtain quite a hefty sum of cash for the National Funds . . ."

"Really, Charles? Really?" Valeriana could not believe how cunning this man was.

The nullify-man began waving away glibly at the people. "I hope you enjoyed the show here, everyone! Courtesy of Kelton's Den!"

"What?" Everyone gaped at him.

Silence.

"Ah!" The guys roughly laughed, their cups making loud 'thump'. "So that's what it was! Good for ya, Caoimhe! Ya're a good actress! Me didn't know ya knew how tah do sumthin' else other than fightin'. Bwahahaha."

Everyone went back to their businesses, letting the noisy chattering come back.

"Seriously, you kids." The man sighed. "Can't you do a mission without making a scene? The Celestial Twelve should be more discreet."

"It's inevitable." Charles argued, slowly bending his back for a bow. "But, let us pay our respects to His Highness—"

Charles was stopped short when a bread was shoved into his mouth, shutting him up completely. He looked up in shock, instantly taking the food out. The man chuckled at his dumbfounded expression and headed out for the door.

"I didn't know they produced such good pastry . . ." The fourth muttered to himself, chewing on the small piece that he caught between his teeth. "Note to self—make sure to discover potential goods for mass production."

"What am I going to do with you kids? I really thought this place would be my sanctuary from you nobilities." He told them before brushing past Caoimhe. "Don't get yourself in a fight with these kids, you'll only lose."

Those words seemed to have come as a shock for the girl as they all headed out of the tavern, gone as fast as they came.

"You talk as if you aren't nobility."