Hurry down the stairs.

Jelly is almost caught when she has to stop to open the door, but the girl of slime is just too slippery and bouncy for one to easily grasp her. She hustles down the stairs, followed by Malakae, and then Niki and Amara, with you holding Eva in the rear. It's like a thunderstorm is booming as your small army of companions run down into the basement with no care for stealth. It's at the bottom where you see your enemy--Lord Vraelion, unmistakably.

He's tall and regal with a wide chest behind stretching out beneath kingly garb--red and yellow, with an illustrious cape coloured the same. He has golden locks which are combed neatly down the left side of his head, and around his forehead and top a set of mighty horns is a circlet which come to dangerously sharp edges like a crown of thorns. Said horns, just like Malakae, are adorned by several chains decorated in sparkling gemstones, and his long, mighty tail almost appears to be made of solid gold. The speed in which he stands means that he's already on his feet before you even turn the corner, and there he glares with a warhammer head-down on the floor beside his feet. Behind him is a gorgeous, polished, dark wood table surrounded by five other noblemen and noblewomen, who look far more shocked at your entrance than himself. His stoic composure is in itself imposing. He squints--eyes like golden suns, burning with a hidden rage--and lays his fingers against the pommel of his weapon. Around his belt you see a few different things, though most importantly, an ornate silver rod with a similar pattern down the shaft as the mark which has been drawn onto Malakae's neck.

Everybody stops. Jelly ceases to flee, though Malakae makes no move to grab her stolen undergarments. Instead she looks to her father with both fear and anger.

"What is this interruption, my daughter?" comes his voice. "Not only do you impose on a meeting which is none of your business, but who are these you bring? Trespassers? Whoever they may be, leave immediately. I will properly scold you when my work here is complete."

Your eyes catch one of the nobles in particular. While she dresses like the rest, by her face, she's unmistakably an ALICE. You can tell straight away by her skin and hair, and the way she glares back at you with glowing cyan.

"We've come to pry your daughter away from your creepy clutches!" Niki blurts out. "So why don't you just stand down, huh?"

While his unmoving response displays how much of a joke this is to him, he doesn't laugh, or even crack a smile. "You are the ones who must take a knee. I am Lord Baspiax Vraelion, master of this family, and a man far older than any of you. Therefore, I've grown tired of needless prattle. Leave now or die. There is no more room for debate."

But just as he begins to lift his warhammer, Niki bolts forwards with incredible speed. She lands a hefty punch straight against his chest. Not only does it connect, but the power of the impact sends him flying backwards across the table, knocking over any papers or other items to the floor. As he crashes off the other side, the nobles leap from their seats and stumble to the walls, besides the ALICE, who hops backwards with ease. The rest look absolutely shook, as if they had witnessed something none of them could have imagined. They mumble amongst one another with things such as, "How did somebody send Lord Vraelion flying?" and, "Are we going to die in here?"

Malakae has her hands over her mouth in surprise. "She's strong." But as her eyes catch yours, she brings her hands back to her hips and raises her chin. "Not as strong as me, of course, but I respect that she wasn't all bark."

You stare back. "How's going commando?"

She reacts by pulling her legs together and straightening her dress, and her face turns to frustration after realizing how much you just made her react. "Y-You shut up."

Lord Vraelion rises once more, now with the hammer grasped between both his hands. His brow furls. "You come into my home." His voice is louder now. "And you disrespect me with your filthy touch. For this, I will send each and every one of you to the underworld myself."

"... Father, please," Malakae speaks up. She takes a deep breath through her nose and swallows hard. "This home has become a prison. I don't know what this Elok Daven jerk has promised you, but I never thought you'd allow somebody else to control yo--"

"No one controls me!" he shouts. With one mighty vertical swing of his hammer, not only does he shatter the table in front of him, but it explodes with the might of a giant's fist, sending wooden debris in each and every direction. He looks rather strong before, but this is a power beyond an ordinary man of his size. And after that attack, perhaps even using it as a distraction, he sprints forward in the same manner as Niki from before, and swings his weapon straight back at her.

She raises her shield. The sound the impact makes is near deafening, but Niki only slides back slightly as she stands strong. With clenched teeth, she gives him a toothy grin, while he reacts with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"She barely budged," Malakae comments.

Amara shows no fear in standing close to the danger. She places her hand on Niki's back and channels her mana into a spell. "Bless!" she shouts. After she does, she lets out a sharp gasp by accident and shivers. She whispers under her breath, "Ah... It has been a little while since I have done that one."

"Appreciated," Niki says. Using this newfound strength, she parries Lord Vraelion's hammer to the side and reaches for her mace.

The dragon, however, leaps backwards into the pile of debris. "Damn. I knew I recognized your face," he says with his eyes now trained specifically on you. "That foolish moustache does little to hide who you are, Demon King. Elok warned me that you may try something, but I paid it no mind... and I still feel the same way. This is nothing. You've come to my estate, you fool. Everybody knows that a dragon is the most dangerous within its own lair, with its own minions."

As if right on queue, the ALICE leaps over his head and lands right in front of him. She draws from her side a rapier, and she stands like a fencer awaiting her opponent's first move. It's strange just how identical she looks to all the other ALICEs you've seen despite her in a noble's dress, yet you can't help but feel Alice looks entirely different. These are nothing but poor imitations of the best of them--the one discarded.