Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided
Chapter 131. The Starry Night

Next to the battlecruiser’s rear hatch, the white light from the hangar spilled outward, illuminating the gathered crowd forming a ring. Ziyue stood sassily with her hands on her hips, watching the police officers in blue approach her supposed prisoners.

The officers moved in and cuffed the three knights and one stubborn old man using magnetic handcuffs.

One silver Knight and two bronze, the remaining members of Zeigerlich, complied without resistance.

“Stay nice and cute, and you’ll be outta there real soon!” Ziyue called, waving at the knights as they were escorted away.

Zetius stepped in beside her. “There you are.” He brushed gently along her shoulder down to her mid-back. She visibly shuddered, then turned to glare at him, clearly displeased.

“What?” Zetius frowned.

“Nothing,” she replied, oddly detached and cold.

She seems mad at me for some reason, Zetius thought. Suddenly, an idea lit up in his mind. He grinned.

“You made me worried, Ziyue. I thought you got blown off the dock.”

“HA?!” she choked, lips curled downward in disbelief. Then she forced a chuckle and turned away.

“See? I’m quite funny,” Zetius said with a sly smile.

Eventually, her striking purple eyes flicked back toward him. “Ha~ha!” she laughed sarcastically, hugging herself.

Zetius's gaze wandered, briefly admiring her hourglass figure. “Well,” he said, abruptly grasping her upper arm with a mischievous smile.

She was flabbergasted. “Uhh—”

“You must be hungry. Let’s do dinner. Properly this time,” Zetius insisted, ignoring her protest. He dragged her across the field towards the lavish building that resembled a town hall.

“I’m not hungry!” she protested, though she still followed his lead.

“Come on, the banquet’s being served in that massive hall,” he coaxed, grinning.

Inside the spacious chamber with its high ceiling, the starry night was visible through a translucent roof. Live music flowed from a large classical orchestra, the siren-like voice of a female vocalist echoing with joy through a slow, grand melody.

Tonight’s theme seemed tailored to accommodate foreign guests, though locals also mingled. Laughter and light-hearted chatter punctuated the air without becoming overwhelming.

Red circular tables were arranged neatly in rows, topped with polished silverware and vases of flowers over elegant red cloth — perfect for a glamorous dining experience.

Waiters and waitresses in black and white served seemingly unlimited food and drink.

At a table near the far wall, Zetius sat across from Ziyue, who was preoccupied with either twirling a lock of hair or the spaghetti on her plate.

Zetius surveyed the room. Most tables were filled with Zeigerlich crew and locals already making friends — alcohol certainly helped.

At the centre, Aurelia, Ryusei, Friederich, Sandria, and several high-ranking officials shared a large table, enjoying semi-casual discussion. His eyes met Aurelia’s, and he raised a toast. She responded with a smile before turning back to the conversation.

If he had to guess, it was probably Sandria diving into technical matters already, perhaps outlining the objectives for the next few days.

“Sandria is still Sandria, always looking out to secure jobs for her people.” He thought, grinning.

Satisfied, Zetius turned back to the sulking queen. “Ziyue, how about a cheer?” he asked with mock politeness.

Ziyue glanced at his glass and grimaced. “With plum juice?” she sneered.

“Well… technically, I’m barely eighteen. I don’t know, actually. I might still be sixteen.” Zetius frowned, unsure whether the two years trapped in Jack’s forty-year-old body counted or not. He swirled the crimson liquid in his glass, then downed it. Sweet and fruity.

In truth, he felt much older.

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She raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re young and you’ve already forgotten your age.” A condescending smile followed, but even that lit up the room.

Ziyue shifted on her cushion, visibly more relaxed. “I thought you were in your twenties. You talk and act like someone worn down by war. Sometimes you carry this… air of sadness.” She leaned in, her gaze locking onto his.

“And worst of all, you’re suicidal, Zetius.” Her tone was no longer playful.

Zetius paused, his gaze fixed on her violet eyes. So that’s what this is about?

He glanced at his plate. Heading to battle alone, outnumbered, outgunned… and worst of all, using himself as a live shield.

After a moment of reflection, he found himself agreeing.

“Fair point,” he said softly, nodding. He tilted his head to look at her.

Her eyes shimmered, as if on the verge of tears. She looked away.

“And I couldn’t do anything...” she murmured, voice trembling.

Those words struck something within him.

“Ziyue…” he began, but nothing followed. His usually quick mind blanked.

Sniffling, she fixed her gaze on the crowd. “Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again. Don’t you dare die before me.” The weight in her words hit him like a hammer.

It sounded like a threat, but Zetius could see through it, underneath was care.

“Sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Good! You owe me that,” she replied, her expression lightening.

After a while, she started ordering champagne and a sweet plum wine called Umeshu, and downing them in quick succession. Her mood lifted steadily with each glass. However, it took a lot to get her tipsy. Zetius watched her drinking and chuckling in awe, his gaze lingered on her pink, rosy cheeks longer than he intended.

The strange part was that they’d never spoken outside of missions before. So, tonight felt special for him, and he assumed that she’d feel the same, too.

“Ziyue, how old are you then?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Huh?” she replied after a pause, voice dragging slightly.

He chuckled. “I asked how old you are.”

Ziyue leaned forward, but her busty figure made the motion awkward. “I’m, um, eighteen. Yesterday.”

Surprised, he blinked at her. “Oh, so when you brought food to my room, you were celebrating your birthday?”

“Something like that,” she replied, more honestly than before. And twirling the plum wine in her hands before sipped the last bit.

“Still, you hold your liquor pretty well,” he complimented the girl, smiling.

“Heheh, thank you, handsome. You know, my body’s attuned and resistant to both physical and Arc poison,” she boasted, signalling the waitress for another drink.

She took two Margarita cocktails from a tray, handing one to him. Her cheeks were now visibly red.

“Let’s have a proper toast this time, Zetius!” she exclaimed rowdily.

***

The night stretched on. Zetius and Ziyue enjoyed their drinks, with Zeigerlich crew members, Sandria and Madison included, stopping by for quick toasts before moving on to the next table.

The erratic clinking of glasses, the jokes and laughter, the kind that made strangers feel like old friends, filled the atmosphere.

A chaotic but wonderfully delightful energy spread through the hall, dissolving all hardship. Wars faded into nothing, leaving only half-sung songs echoing into the night.

The orchestra closed with a thunderous finale, rousing and grand, then exited to applause.

Further away, Aurelia, Friederich, and Ryusei had quietly retired to their rooms.

The party, however, continued. As long as there was alcohol, the night stayed forever young, frozen in the midst of ecstasy.

Zetius thought this would be a night to remember, but at this rate, no one might.

Ziyue rested her chin on her laced fingers, elbows propped on the edge of the table. Zetius turned and smiled, not realising how long she’d been staring at him. Those feisty eyes of hers somehow softened, taking on a gentler, almost tame.

“Is something on my face?” he asked, grinning.

“Yeah, hang on.” She reached out and cupped his cheek in teasing.

Heat surged through him. He flushed red and jerked back.

“Ah! You got me,” he said, taking a quick sip to hide his fluster.

She burst into laughter at his timid reaction, then suddenly stood, wobbling slightly before regaining balance.

“Phew! I’m cured!” Ziyue declared, hands on hips.

“Let’s call it a night.” Zetius stood, a little light-headed himself, but he’d survived worse. This was nothing.

Ziyue nodded in agreement, and the two headed toward the exit. A receptionist maid stood waiting and guided them down a corridor toward the direction of their rooms.

After a few minutes, she gestured to two doors beside one another, bowed, and walked off, leaving them in silence.

“What a day,” Zetius said once her footsteps faded.

“Yeah. It was a real rollercoaster,” Ziyue chuckled. “The one with a happy ending.” She added.

He smiled at her faintly, “So… good night, Ziyue.”

“Umm! Good night, Zetius.” She returned the smile and motioned a small wave.

“See you tomorrow.” He said and turned away, feeling the exhaustion creep into his body.

The two parted, each stepping into their room and closing the door behind them.

However, one person lingered longer than the other.

Ziyue stood frozen, watching as Zetius disappeared into his room, the door closing softly behind him.

She parted her lips, a whisper on the edge — words she had long buried deep in her heart. But nothing came out.

Now isn’t the time, she told herself. He’s not ready… and maybe, neither am I.

So instead, she smiled to no one, a quiet, bittersweet thing, and turned toward her own door, carrying the weight of everything she could have said, and everything she chose to hold back.