"Mize?"
Liam reached out, hand hovering just an inch away from Mize's shoulder, but-
Smack.
Mize swatted him away.
Hard.
A glare followed.
"What were you thinking just now, huh?"
Liam blinked, hand still frozen midair.
"Well… nothing."
The same lazy smile. The same half-squinted, innocent-looking golden eyes.
But Mize wasn't fooled.
Oh, no.
He wasn't that kind of fool.
He pointed an accusatory finger at Liam's chest, his ruby-red eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I-I know it's flat! But I'm working on it!"
Silence.
An awkward breeze swept by.
Somewhere, a soldier probably choked on air.
Mize blinked.
Then immediately panicked.
"Wait, no! forget that! Can you pretend you didn't hear anything just now?"
"Promise." Liam nodded, far too agreeable.
"Good"
And then.
Mize, still pouting but clearly over it, scooted closer.
Voluntarily at that, his face flushed, remembering the abrupt words that he had accidentally muttered just now.
His small hands grabbed Liam's wrist, guiding his arm around his waist.
Liam, understanding the silent request, exhaled softly, and pulled him in.
The warmth of his chest was immediate, their bodies close by, pressing intimately.
Mize curled up against him, fitting snugly into the hold like a missing puzzle piece.
A second passed.
Then, two.
Then.
A whisper.
As Mize tried his best to explain the situation just now, one for his dignity and also his face.
Right against Liam's ears, he tiptoed, pulling the collar down, his eyes glittering and yet misty.
"I'm working on it… "
"I- it's going to get bigger eventually, I promise"
"I'm still young, you know"
"M-maybe it's my genetic, or everything that I ate just went to my face instead"
Liam stilled.
Mize pulled back slightly, his crimson gaze wide, glistening, dangerously teary. His lips pouted in the most heartbreakingly adorable way.
It looked less like a protest and more like he was about to cry.
Liam sighed, softly.
His hand, still resting on Mize's waist, tightened slightly.
"It's okay"
He rounded his arm closer against Mize's waist.
A gentle tug at his sleeve.
Liam glanced down.
A tiny, trembling grip.
He exhaled again, giving in completely.
"Alright. It's fine" His voice was low, certain. "I love you the way you are"
"though it would be a blatant lie if I say I didn't like you by appearance first"
Mize blinked up.
"…Really?"
"You don't mind I look like this?"
"You know, even back at the awakening venue... Most people mistaken me as your sister"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
So soft.
So tiny.
The angle of his gaze made his long, dark lashes cast the faintest shadows over his cheeks.
His hair cascaded on both sides of his face, strands pooling like silk over his shoulders.
But it was the eyes.
The way they shimmered like the surface of a lake at dawn.
The way they were so wide, so hesitant, so fragile.
It was dangerous.
"Really," Liam murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over Mize's waist.
"I love you the way you are."
Mize's gaze lingered, searching, almost unbelieving.
Though from the corner of his eyes, he secretly pulled the points counter into his view, slowly increasing, steady and yet assured.
[60, 120]!!!
'Keep up the act, Mize.... Keep up the act'
Then, finally
"Mhmm…"
And just like that, he buried himself deeper into Liam's chest.
The air was still, just for a moment.
"Then, let's go, shall we?" Liam gave a gentle thud against the hair, a soft rub as Mize's eyes squinted halfway, a soft hum escaping his lips with a nod.
Boom.
A deafening pulse of energy rippled outward from Liam's palm, shaking the very ground beneath them.
Mize barely had time to react before a massive formation lit up the air.
Golden runes ignited, twisting and weaving like living serpents before diving down into the ground.
Then.
Rumble.
The earth trembled.
A shadow loomed.
Mize's eyes widened as a massive throne, not just any throne, but a goddamn moving fortress of a throne, rose from the ground.
Towering, crafted of blackened steel and obsidian, its backrest stretched high into the sky, adorned with intricate engravings.
Two wing-like structures of metal extended from its sides, glowing faintly.
And at its base, it floated up, hovered several meters above the ground.
It was alive.
"Liam" Mize turned, completely flabbergasted.
Liam grinned, stepping forward casually.
"Do you like it?"
Mize pointed a trembling finger.
"This is?"
"A moving throne!"
Liam chuckled, grabbing Mize's wrist and effortlessly lifting him into the air.
Mize barely had time to yelp before he was seated onto the throne's plush, obsidian cushions.
Liam followed suit, settling beside him.
Then, with a simple wave of his hand.
Boom.
The throne lurched forward, then smoothly began to move.
It wasn't fast. No, it was majestic, like a king's chariot wading through an ocean of soldiers.
And beneath them.
The army moved.
Like waves.
Not chaotic, not unorganized, but disciplined.
Rows upon rows of dark-armored soldiers, towering, and banners emblazoned with Liam's sigil flowed forward in a perfect, synchronized motion.
Mize swallowed, eyes scanning randomly, and his arms gripping against the throne armrests.
Liam, ever casual, stretched an arm out.
And summoned a translucent map before them.
Mize, still recovering from the throne's existence, tilted his head as he pulled his own map out.
Then.
Snap.
The two maps merged into one.
"…What?" Mize blinked.
The details of his territory, his panel, his scouting radius, everything fused into Liam's, creating a single, seamless map.
"You can do that?!"
Liam smirked.
"Apparently."
Mize gawked at the now vast display in front of them.
It covered twice the range, information updating in real-time.
"This… this makes things so much easier if we want to make it bigger, but harder for dual control since only one person can use it at a time"
Mize turned to Liam.
"That's the idea." Liam leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, and with a wave of his hand, the map splits again.
He lifted a finger, tapping a certain point on his map.
"Here. This is where we're going today."
Mize squinted.
The location pulsed faintly, marked in dark red.
It was a swirling vortex symbol, a secret realm.
[Secret realm] [Tier 4]
[Description]: A place long forgotten by times, buried with it were endless secrets and treasures. Beware for there to be powerful monsters guarding them.
Mize raised a brow.
"A secret realm? Seriously?"
Liam nodded, completely unbothered.
"We need tier upgrade items. And there are only three reliable ways to get them other than the trading hub"
He raised a finger.
"Events"
Another.
"Treasures"
Then, a third.
"And secret realms."
Mize's eyes flickered. "So this is the most direct method?"
Liam nodded.
"We have the manpower. We have the strategy. We're making our move."
Mize, now understanding the plan, leaned back into the throne, arms crossed.
"Alright, fair enough," he admitted.
Then, curiosity struck.
Mize turned, brows furrowed.
"Actually, how many troops do we have exactly?"
Liam smiled, his face laced with a deeper meaning as if intrigued such question was asked.
The kind of smile that meant Mize was about to see something ridiculous.
With a simple flick of his wrist, Liam zoomed in on the map, his fingers tapping over their moving column, revealing a new panel into their eyes.
And then, Mize's stomach dropped.
Because.
Rows upon rows of dots flooded the display.
Thousands.
Tens of thousands.
A sea of red and black.
Mize's breath hitched.
"Liam…" he muttered, voice slightly shaky.
Liam, ever composed, merely smiled.
Then.
He pointed towards the panel.
[Lord Liam][Tier 3]
[Army Size: 200,000 troops.]
[Tier 3: 1,000]
[Tier 2: 50,000]
[Tier 1: 149,000]
Mize froze.
His entire body stiffened.
And finally.
"…You're kidding."
Liam, still smiling, shook his head.
"Not in the slightest."
"So no wonder you have so many points in the power ranking!" Mize blurted out, his foot tapping restlessly as his eyes roamed over the terrain on the map, taking in every inch of the army's size that just seemed to stretch forever.
Every soldier, every unit was laid out like pieces on a board, and Mize couldn't help but let his excitement show.
Liam, smiled lightly, nudged Mize gently on the nose.
"This army is my hard work through my profession ability," he said with a wink, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Mize nodded and hummed, his fingers sliding over the screen as he dragged the map around.
His gaze locked on those glittering golden markers that only he could see, little hints of treasure spots that made his heart race.
In his mind, he already planned, "Find some ways to go to these places and dig them out"
Then, shifting back to their banter, Mize looked up and said casually, "In case you mentioned it earlier but I forgot, what grade is your profession again?" His tone was light but curious.
He had always been wandering what level of rarity Liam's profession was. Though his eyes then darted around the vast amount of soldiers around him, his thoughts turning...
'It's either grade-less with unknown potential limit the same as me, or golden grade' He secretly thought inwardly.
Liam didn't answer immediately. He crossed his legs for a moment, his eyes thoughtfully scanning the map as if weighing every detail.
After a beat, he replied in his usual laid-back manner, "It's the same as yours."
"Gradeless?" Mize echoed, eyebrows lifting in a mix of disbelief and amusement. Though he was half expecting it already.
It would be ridiculous for it to be any lower than that. And Mize had suspected of his profession to be a gradeless one too.
He remembered it clearly, the mutation that he had caused by interfering into Liam's life, and the changes onto his golden finger.
Hearing Mize's exclamation.
"Correct" Liam confirmed with a nod, his tone smooth and leisure.
The army moved like a dark tide, a steady flood of armor and weapons stretching across the land.
On the map, they looked like a shifting mass, moving with perfect rhythm, their footsteps pounding the earth in sync.
Mize leaned forward on the throne, resting his arms on the edge as he scanned the marching troops below.
He noticed a few different types mixed in with the familiar Dark Knights, the ones he'd already seen plenty of.
Then there was the second group, a bit shorter but stockier, built like walking tank.
They carried long swords at their sides and shields nearly as tall as themselves.
Despite not being as towering as the Dark Knights, they still stood at 1.9 meters, bigger than most regular people.
And then the third group, lean figures with sleek black armor, moving with an almost unnatural grace.
Their long black hair flowed down their backs, and their faces had sharp, delicate features.
"They look like elves," Mize muttered, watching them closely.
Liam chuckled beside him. "They're human," he corrected, a teasing edge to his voice. "Unlike someone here who doesn't look human at all"
Mize blinked. "Who?" Feigning innocence.
Liam looked at him for a second, opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then just sighed and closed it again.
Instead, he reached out and ruffled Mize's hair, fingers running through the soft strands.
"Sometimes," Liam murmured, voice quiet, "I really wonder if you're actually like this or just messing with me."
Mize frowned. "Huh?"
"Nothing," Liam said, still playing with his hair, clearly not planning to explain.