A tiny creature fluttered down from above—a butterfly-sized cat with radiant, translucent wings that shimmered like dew caught in sunlight. Soft pulses of natural mana rippled from its body as it descended, light as a falling leaf, and settled neatly atop Tyler’s head. It curled its tail around one ear and purred, a gentle, content sound that blended perfectly with the rustling of the fields.

Tyler chuckled and raised a hand, carefully patting the small creature with a single finger.

"Morning, little one," he said casually, as if having a winged mana-cat land on his head was the most ordinary thing in the world.

The creature responded by nuzzling his hair and flaring its wings once in lazy satisfaction.

It was a rare forest monster, one gifted to Tyler by the Leaves Tribe, a symbol of trust and reverence usually reserved for beings they considered protectors of the land.

Kaeya stared.

For a long moment, she forgot to breathe.

Her eyes moved slowly, unwillingly, taking everything in again, but this time, with clarity instead of familiarity. Fields that should have been exhausted by constant harvest yet flourished endlessly. Soil rich beyond reason. Crops that grew as if guided by unseen hands. Insects, beasts, and spirits that did not flee from Tyler, but lingered near him, unafraid, even fond.

Tribes that brought offerings without being asked. Creatures of nature that treated him as one of their own. A man who walked the forest paths without resistance, whose presence calmed the land instead of disturbing it.

A man who could see through shadows.

Who bent life itself into abundance.

Who remained untouched by the dangers that devoured others whole.

The description echoed in her mind, word for word.

Blessed by nature.

Surrounded by nature.

Loved by nature.

One who creates nature.

It fit far too well.

Kaeya remained silent, the realization settling not like thunder, but like the slow, inevitable rise of dawn. There was no shock anymore—only certainty.

Tyler noticed her stare and tilted his head slightly.

"What?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

A few minutes passed in silence before Kaeya finally spoke.

"Hm... so," Tyler said first, rubbing the back of his neck, "you’re assuming that the so-called druid everyone is desperately searching for... is me?"

Kaeya met his gaze without hesitation.

"We cannot say it with absolute certainty," she replied, her tone steady, thoughtful. "But you are the only one who fits the description without contradiction. Your strength, your connection to the forest, the way nature responds to you... even the ancient records align disturbingly well."

She paused, then added more quietly, "And you are strong. Stronger than many heroes I have seen. Strong enough that... perhaps you could defeat the demons."

Tyler exhaled slowly.

"So this is where it comes to that," he said. "You want me to fight a war."

Kaeya did not deny it.

"We all must stand against evil," she said, a note of conviction entering her voice. "If we do not, the world will burn."

Tyler looked out over the fields instead of at her.

"War doesn’t decide who is right," he said calmly. "It only decides who is left standing."

Kaeya blinked, taken aback.

"That... is a sharp truth," she admitted after a moment.

"Not mine," Tyler shrugged. "Someone else said it. Can’t remember who. Anyways—what I’m saying is, war isn’t the only answer."

She frowned slightly. "What alternative do you suggest?"

"Unification," Tyler replied. "Or at least disruption. If the world changes in a way the Demon King cannot control, he may not be able to wage war as easily. Systems can be broken without swinging a sword."

Kaeya’s gaze hardened. But Tyler is just bluffing he wants to negotiate before agreeing.

"You have seen only a fragment," she said. "In Leafrest alone, that demon general wanted to eat everyone for hunger and amusement

. In the Demon Kingdom, there are countless beings like that. The Demon King has already appointed five new Demon Generals. When they march, entire races will vanish. This is not a war that can be talked away."

Tyler fell silent, pretending to thinking this time.

"Not impossible," he finally said. "Just... complicated. And before I commit to something that drags the entire world behind it, there are things I want to accomplish first."

Kaeya straightened immediately. She placed one hand over her chest, posture firm, expression resolute.

"As the princess of the Human Kingdom," she said solemnly, "I swear that I will do everything within my power to fulfill any request you make, should you choose to stand with us."

Tyler studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled faintly.

"Don’t swear just yet," he said. "Just hear me out first. Decide after that."

The butterfly-cat flicked its tail and let out a soft chirp, and flew away.

---

Then Tyler calmly began to state his conditions.

He spoke without raising his voice, without embellishment, as if he were discussing the price of grain rather than the fate of kingdoms. Each condition was laid out clearly, one after another, practical and unsettling in equal measure.

Kaeya listened without interrupting him.

Her expression did not change. Not once.

Behind her, however, the air grew tense.

The shadow-tribe operative who stood a short distance away felt his hand drift instinctively toward the hilt of his sword. Every instinct screamed at him that the man before them was being insolent, presumptuous—dangerous. To demand conditions from the Crown Princess during a time of war bordered on treason. It was not conditions but humiliation.

He nearly moved.

But he stopped himself for two reasons.

First, Kaeya was still listening. He dare not to be presumptuous before the princess.

Second, even if he drew his blade, he knew —deep down— that he would never reach Tyler before being cut down.

When Tyler finally finished speaking, silence settled between them like a held breath.

Kaeya did not respond immediately.

Instead, she lowered her gaze for a brief moment, then lifted it again, meeting Tyler’s eyes directly.

"So," Tyler said evenly, breaking the quiet, "whether you win this war or lose it, none of it truly benefits you in the end. Power breeds enemies. Victory breeds fear. Loss breeds ruin. Knowing all that—what will you do, Princess?"

Kaeya studied him for a long heartbeat.

Then she spoke.

"If you are willing to show me the full extent of your power," she said, her voice steady and clear, "then I will agree to every single condition you have placed before me."

The shadow-tribe operative stiffened.

Tyler smiled faintly.

"Very well," he replied.

An hour later, the clearing had changed.

Two male orcs stood several paces away from Tyler, their massive frames scarred and muscled, tusks jutting from their jaws. The moment their eyes fell upon Kaeya, their expressions twisted with crude desire. A low, excited growl escaped their throats as they lunged toward her, heavy footsteps shaking the ground.

There lower parts hardened and didn’t stop growing.

The shadow-tribe operative’s heart leapt. He was already stepping forward, hand on his weapon—

When Tyler moved.

One moment he stood beside Kaeya.

The next, he was gone.

There was No sound, No distortion of air or anything.

He reappeared behind the charging orcs as if teleported out of nowhere. He was holding a small knife in his hand.

The orcs didn’t even notice him nor even realize what had happened.

They continued forward for two more steps.

Then their heads separated cleanly from their bodies.

Two heavy shapes collapsed to the ground, followed by a dull thud as their severed heads rolled across the dirt and came to rest near Kaeya’s feet. Blood sprayed in a brief arc before settling into the soil.

Silence returned.

Kaeya did not flinch.

She looked down at the heads, then back up at Tyler.

"Is that sufficient?" Tyler asked calmly.

She regarded him with a sharp, appraising gaze.

"You are powerful," she acknowledged. "But is that truly the limit of your strength?"

Tyler shrugged lightly.

"There is more," he admitted. "Much more. But for now, this demonstration will suffice."

He stepped forward and held out a simple ring.

"Take this," he said. "And look inside. With my skill, I have also found a way to... prepare."

He leaned in slightly and whispered something into her ear.

Kaeya’s eyes widened.

She accepted the ring and activated it.

Her breath caught.

Inside the storage space were rows upon rows of mana core spheres— each one refined, stabilized, and identical to those used to fuel Annihilation Magic Cannons. Not a handful. Not a dozen.

But Hundreds of them.

Her gaze snapped back to Tyler.

"You possess a skill like this?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.

Tyler nodded once, "Yeah... One of my skill where I can copy things..."

Tyler lied. No one in this world can extract skills, so he didn’t care exposing the infinity cauldron ability as his own skill.

That was all.

"But it does comes with many restrictions." Tyler said.

Kaeya straightened immediately and bowed deeply, far more formally than before.

"I agree," she said without hesitation. "To every term. I will return to the palace at once and speak with my father."

She did not waste another moment.

That very day, Kaeya departed with her shadow-tribe escort, urgency clear in her stride.

A week later, news spread across the Human Kingdom not of defeat, not of invasion, not of despair.

But of celebration.

The Crown Princess of the Human Kingdom —Kaeya von de Fontaine had announced her engagement.