Volume 3 Chapter 197 Maribel Children
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A thunderous crash split the skies.
A massive black dragon, once the terror of the battlefield, plummeted toward the earth in a smoking spiral. Its wings, scorched and shredded, dragged a trail of dark clouds in its wake. The moment it struck the ground, the air quaked, and from the distant plains came a roar—not of the dragon, but of men.
Cheers. Wild, disbelieving, ecstatic cheers rose from the battlefield like a wave finally breaking free of a dam.
From the tallest spire of a fortress nestled in the northwest of Ramsey, Eleonora stood still, spyglass trembling in her hand. Her snow-white wings, folded behind her back, fluttered as if responding to the tremor of emotions rattling within her chest. Her gaze remained locked on the sky, where faint streaks of battle mana still lingered.
"…This… this is what it means to be speechless," she murmured, voice barely a breath.
She lowered the spyglass, her shoulders falling, expression slack with disbelief.
A lone figure hovered high above the battlefield—clearly visible to the naked eye. An Azraelian youth with no banner, no escort. Just the wind swirling beneath him like he was born to defy gravity itself.
"H-Huh… Lady Eleonora…"
A trembling voice broke the silence. The young knight lieutenant, who had been watching beside her through a second lens, turned to her, eyes wide and glittering.
"Lord Kian… he slew the dragon. Our victory…!"
"──────"
The Knights of Sunlightland behind them stirred like embers catching fire. Their murmurs began as whispers of disbelief.
"No way… It must be a trick…"
"Or a dream… It has to be…"
But as the black smoke curled up into the afternoon sun and the battlefield remained still—bereft of dragon roars or Beastmen charges—something shifted. The doubt broke. A flood of realization swept through them.
"We won!" someone shouted. "Ramsey's safe!"
"I don't know what happened," the lieutenant yelled again, his voice rising with unrestrained joy, "but I'm really happy! We won!!"
The cry was contagious.
Knights who had stood with grim resolve moments earlier now broke into cheers, embracing, clapping each other on the back, some even weeping.
Yet, amidst all the jubilation, Eleonora remained frozen. Her gaze still locked on the young figure in the sky.
We won.
Victory had come.
And victory was good.
Really good…
The innocent people were safe. The land Oswald had worked so hard to protect was intact, almost untouched. It was a miracle.
Even if she had made countless mistakes to get here… even if the price had been enormous…
—At this moment, it was okay to forget.
(But…)
A chill laced her breath as Eleonora pressed her lips together, a long, quiet sigh escaping through them. A memory surged forward unbidden—the moment she'd learned Oswald, the man she trusted, had surrounded the princess's castle only a month ago.
(Kian Vahid… Who are you? A god? Or a demon?)
"The ability to rally an army in such a short time… the foresight to prepare proper defenses… the sheer combat prowess of an army-crushing monster…"
She muttered the words aloud, voice almost analytical, yet distant.
"…A capable ally of strategic strength, and… and…"
"…and a force of nature that doesn't belong in our world," she finished quietly.
"Lady Eleonora?" the lieutenant asked, concern now overtaking his elation.
Eleonora said nothing. She merely pressed the spyglass into his hand and turned away, her boots echoing against stone as she staggered toward the edge of the spire. One gauntleted hand reached out and touched the rough, uneven surface of the brick wall.
(A mighty power, unbound by justice… A god-touched tyrant who wipes away entire factions at a whim… Kian Vahid… what are you after? A seat in the war council? A puppet minister's post? That doesn't seem nearly enough…)
Maribel is trying to tame this.
Trying to make it part of her plan.
But this wasn't something you could simply 'absorb.'
Trying to bring Oswald into this? That was already risky.
But trying to tame him?
No.
This was no joke.
(An Azraelian exiled from his homeland… The flames of vengeance are alive in his eyes. That alone should make him too dangerous. Princess… even if my thoughts never reach you… you must not allow that man to succeed!)
The steel claws of her gauntlet scratched against the brick wall, emitting a raw, dry screech that cut against the joy in the air.
(Kian Vahid is far too dangerous… If we let him linger here… if we keep him close… the fields and hills of Izerland will be stripped bare, one by one… until nothing remains…)
* * *
Here is the revised version with joined dialogue tags for clarity, while preserving the author's style, tone, and third-person perspective as requested. The overall structure and flow have been carefully smoothed and polished to light novel standards, while not expanding more than 5% and retaining all original scene details.
* * *
When Kian ran back to the magic fortress on the hill, the astonished eyes of the waiting combatants beneath the banner of the Owl Knights gathered on him.
"Everyone, Arminus has fallen. The enemy troops, aside from the Malbodous squad, are annihilated──no, they've vanished. In other words, we've won," Kian declared firmly.
"Ah, ah…"
"We won, right…?"
Gary of the Holy Squad and Homork the Third stood shaking their heads like broken dolls. Next to them, Bertrand wore a puzzled expression as he hesitantly opened his mouth.
"Lord Kian, what on earth was that just now?"
"────"
Marilyn, beside Bertrand, was staring blankly at Kian with dazed eyes. Linca, standing next to her, had her mouth hanging open even wider.
"Linca, you did well," Kian said gently.
"……"
"Thank you, Rufna."
"Ah, um, yeah… Master, are you tired?" Rufna asked uncertainly, tilting her head.
Why the sudden question? Kian looked around, searching for Sarah's figure in suspicion. He spotted her already speaking with several spies in the shadow of the magic fortress while the rest of the combatants remained in a state of stunned disbelief. As expected, she was already switching gears, moving swiftly into post-war operations.
"Wow! Splendid! Truly splendid! Magnificent, Kian!"
A loud, cheerful voice suddenly rose behind the line of warriors. It was Guy, clad just enough in his battle outfit to be recognized. He strode over, clapping his hands loudly, then slung an arm over Kian's shoulders and looked around at the surrounding Knights.
"What's wrong with you all? It's the hero's return! Don't you want to applaud grandly?" he said, grinning widely.
"Uh…"
"Ah… um…"
"……"
"Come on, applaud! Or raise a cheer! It's our victory! Wahahaha!"
With Guy's boisterous laughter ringing in the air, the Owl Knights and the Holy Squad—though clearly caught off guard—managed to muster hesitant smiles and began to clap. The applause soon rippled through to the 'Eyes of the Lords' watching from the rear. Before long, a chorus of cheers erupted.
"Lord Kian! Lord Kian!"
It was a strange atmosphere, surreal even, but Guy's consideration helped settle the tension.
"Sir Guy, thank you," Kian whispered to the big man beside him. "This reaction… it's not what I expected."
"Just keep smiling modestly," Guy responded with a quiet chuckle. Raising his fist, he added in a low voice, "No need for unnecessary follow-ups. Just show a human-like smile and wave to everyone."
"Yes."
"Long live Lord Kian! Everyone, give this great hero your unreserved blessings!" he shouted, baring his white teeth in a smile.
By that point, the awkward mood had completely melted away, and all present were basking in the joy of their battlefield triumph.
"…Tch. It's frustrating, but I have to admit your power is real," came a sullen voice.
Kian turned to see Louis, the white-haired boy, who had somehow pushed through the crowd. Louis looked away with a scowl and muttered stiffly, "As for becoming Priscilla's husband, I'll acknowledge it halfway as promised. The other half is not acknowledged, so don't think I've approved the marriage. Got that?"
"I have no intention of marrying Ms. Priscilla. Even if asked, I would decline. I'm sorry," Kian replied honestly.
"What is it you find unsatisfactory about my cute little sister!? Just say it outright without dodging!"
"Louis, stop," Guy said firmly, cutting in before Louis could say more.
Clicking his tongue softly, Louis left the crowd with Lishena in tow. Meanwhile, Sarah stepped forward and called out to the jubilant soldiers.
"Alright, everyone, let's stop here! The victory feast is being prepared elsewhere. Don't get too carried away just yet! There may still be survivors, abandoned enemy supplies, and let's not forget—nearly twenty thousand Beastmen families remain beyond the horizon! Those of you wanting merit or spoils, listen to what I say!"
"Thank you, Sarah," Kian said.
"No, it's fine. More importantly, good work. I'll brief you on the details later, but for now let's focus on post-battle matters. I've already sent letters to the chieftains through the spies. You'll be heading to their camp next—to negotiate with the leaders."
"Understood."
"…Ms. Sarah, why are you so calm?" Linca asked, blinking in disbelief.
"The time to celebrate is later. For now, we need to act," Sarah answered evenly.
"That's not an answer… I'm already a mess emotionally. …Huh? Is this a dream? Maybe the real decisive battle is tomorrow and I'm still in bed or something."
"What are you saying? This is reality."
Still unconvinced, Linca pinched her own cheek. "Ow… it hurts."
"──Kian."
Marilyn approached, flanked by Bertrand, Botti, and Aerial behind Sarah. The old witch-like Maribel looked up at Kian, her expression an awkward jumble of emotions.
"Th-thank you very much for this time. Um, I apologize for not being able to assist as Izerland."
"That's not true," Kian said kindly.
"It is true. At the very least, I hope to be of use at the negotiation table with the Beastmen," she replied with a faint smile.
Guy, overhearing this, grimaced slightly. It was no secret that Izerland had not participated in the battle and had instead suffered a skirmish defeat. For them to now sit at the negotiation table while Kian led the fight clearly rubbed Guy the wrong way.
Even so, seeing Kian bow respectfully and reply with, "Thank you for your consideration," without a single complaint, Guy ultimately refrained from commenting. If Kian didn't mind, he saw no reason to interfere as one of the 'Eyes of the Lords'.
"You'll be negotiating alongside Kian, right?" Sarah asked, turning to Marilyn. She also glanced at Bertrand for confirmation.
"Yes. Marilyn and I will accompany you to the allied camp, my lord," Bertrand affirmed.
"Understood, Lord Bertrand."
Kian gave a small nod and turned toward the Beastmen's direction.
"Lord Kian! Excuse me, may I have a moment?"
The 'Eyes of the Lords' pushed through the Owl Knights, surrounding Kian one after another. Though wary of Guy's fearsome presence, they spoke to Kian in excited tones.
"You did a splendid job this time!"
"Truly a performance like a demon god! I saw it with my own eyes—the way you defeated Oswald!"
"I'll make sure to report your achievement to my lord!"
"Hahaha. Thank you," Kian replied with a composed smile.
Seeing that, the noble observers leaned in even closer.
"So, may we go to the Beastmen's camp and claim some slaves?"
"There are still nearly twenty thousand, right?"
"My lord would be pleased with such a gift… I want beautiful women and child slaves."
"I want a silver wolf woman! I've never seen one, but I hear they're all stunning!"
"I'm sorry," Kian said, his expression turning serious. "But I cannot permit slave hunting at the enemy's camp. If those who fought on the battlefield requested it, perhaps… but I cannot allow it for you, who were merely observers under the name of the 'Eyes of the Lords'."
Disappointment clearly showed on their faces, but Kian wished they'd exercise more restraint. Allowing plunder now would completely undermine the principle he had upheld—of not attacking the enemy's families.
"You all came as observers, didn't you?" Guy interjected, stepping forward. "Then fulfill that role properly. It's not your duty to bring home slaves for your lord."
"B-but Lord Guy, there's a mountain of slaves over there!" one of them insisted.
"Our territory isn't as prosperous as Châtillon's. We want to take what we can."
"What use is bringing back two or three slaves? You're just driven by your own desires."
"────'…u…'────"
Guy released his arm from Kian's shoulder and swept his gaze over the crowd, eyebrows rising.
"If you're here as a representative, then maintain dignity. Otherwise, you'll tarnish your lord's name without even realizing it."
"And frankly," Kian added, "it would also lower my reputation. Right now, I'm Ramsey's proxy, and if I allowed slave hunting, it would be seen as my decision."
The 'Eyes of the Lords' grumbled quietly, muttering that slave hunting was common after war. But in front of Guy, they couldn't press the issue and reluctantly withdrew.
"Kian, Châtillon will remain here a while longer. Once things settle down, meet my sister, would you?" Guy said suddenly, pointing toward the white-haired Witch watching from afar beside Louis and Lishena. "She's no good with crowds, you see."
Despite her brash personality, Priscilla detested physical contact with unknown men. She often clung to Kian without hesitation, but with others, she wouldn't even brush fingers unless she wore gloves.
As far as Kian knew, the only time she had ever tolerated close contact in revealing attire was at the Châtillon Casino.
"Understood."
"Also… about the magic sword you used—could you show it to me later? Just secretly?"
"Eh?"
"Just a little peek. Just a tiny one. Please?"
"Well… if it's only to show. I can't let you touch it, though. There's a contract involved."
"Oh, a contract, huh."
"I'm sorry, but I can't discuss the details here…"
"I see. Alright, then. See you later."
"Yes. Excuse me."
With that, Kian quietly stepped away. Marilyn and Bertrand followed close behind.
Away from the whirlpool of joy, Kian headed toward Natra, who was already waiting at the edge of the hill.
"Natra, I'm heading to negotiate with the alliance now. Marilyn and Lord Bertrand will be with me—please protect Marilyn," Kian instructed.
"Understood. —Um, Lord Kian," Natra said, stepping forward. "This Natra was truly moved by your battle against the black dragon in the sky."
As she returned the holder containing the Windsong Blade and Misty Magic Sword, she placed her empty right hand over her chest and bowed with utmost respect.
"Truly, a performance like that of the god Azrael. As expected of my lord," she said with genuine admiration.
Kian replied modestly, "It's borrowed power. I would be troubled if praised."
Nearby, Bertrand, who had been quietly listening in, suddenly perked up at the word "borrowed." Catching Bertrand's gaze, Natra quickly cut in, "Let's discuss the details later."
"Lord Kian."
While waiting for Serena to bring the horse, Oswald's Head Magician, Aisha, arrived. Her magician's robe was threadbare and worn, reflecting the reality that despite her power, proper equipment was not provided to her.
"Ms. Aisha, Rufna will come to detain you shortly. After that, you'll be handed over to the supervising Lord Louis. Please don't get any strange ideas," Kian warned.
Aisha gave a wry smile. "I wouldn't. There's no benefit for me."
She then took Kian's right hand and bowed deeply.
"I have many questions, though you probably won't answer them. Still, I want to express my sincere gratitude without any rude inquiries. —Thank you very much for protecting our Sir Oswald's Ramsey," she said sincerely.
Kian shook his head lightly. "We've only won the battle. There will be post-war processing. If you want to thank me, please do so after that," he replied.
"But by then, I'll be imprisoned, and you will likely be relieved of your duties as castle lord, won't you?" she asked quietly.
"That's true," he admitted.
Aisha looked up at him with a faint smile.
"I will surely convey this to Sir Oswald. …Sir Oswald was right. You should not confront each other as enemies, but rather join hands as friends. My eyes were completely blind," she confessed.
Kian smiled wryly. "That's a statement that puts me in a difficult position to comment on," he said dryly.
"I don't know if we can join hands as friends," he continued, "but if given the opportunity, I would like to cross swords with Sir Oswald again. The resolution with him was not personally satisfactory."
"Does that mean… you want to kill Sir Oswald?" she asked, startled.
"I mean a mock battle. For now," Kian clarified.
A silent pause followed.
"Rufna, please detain her," Kian ordered the dark elf Head Magician who had appeared from the crowd behind him.
Rufna responded with a simple "Got it," producing handcuffs seemingly out of thin air.
Kian then turned to Marilyn. "Thank you for waiting. Now, let's head to the enemy's camp," he said.
* * *
The chiefs of the Beastmen Alliance offered as many slaves as necessary in place of reparations.
For those without wealth, slaves were the only currency they could offer.
Moreover, with almost all working men — except for the Malbodous squad — wiped out, the Beastmen faced certain destruction unless they sacrificed young women, children, and the elderly as slaves to survive the coming winter.
Offering a large number of slaves for population control was a rational, albeit grim, decision.
However, even if slaves were accepted, issues of security and food remained. While slaves with skills or education might be manageable, taking in malnourished, unskilled slaves was a significant problem for Ramsey's side.
Therefore, Ramsey decided to contact nearby slave traders, asking the Beastmen Alliance to sell their families to the traders. The money obtained from the sales would then be paid to Ramsey as compensation.
If Ramsey's people wanted slaves, they could buy them later from the traders.
The chieftains protested with tears in their eyes.
If they couldn't push personnel onto Ramsey's side immediately and had to wait for the slave traders, many Beastmen would starve in the middle of the marsh. Even if a large group of traders arrived, only valuable slaves could be sold, making full compensation uncertain. Afterward, only the children and elderly who couldn't work would remain.
Those left unsold would be doomed — food for monsters, trapped in the marsh without means to advance or retreat.
At the negotiation table, they were harshly insulted, asked if there was no blood or tears in Izerland. But since the Beastmen Alliance had attacked first, it was hard to blame anyone else.
Kian warned, "If anyone tries to steal food from Ramsey, I will burn and kill everyone from that tribe," then left their camp.
For now, the Beastmen would remain stuck in the marsh. Casualties were inevitable, but once the slave traders arrived, species preservation would be ensured.
It was a relief that this could be handled without stirring rumors of Lord Kian conducting a large-scale slave hunt.
Ruthless as it seemed, this was punishment for those sinners who unjustly invaded Ramsey.
Barbarians who don't understand reason must be taught, through their bodies, what happens if they resist — or they'll keep biting back forever.
At this point, those fools who don't realize it's better to quietly integrate into society as slaves have no right to leave descendants in the future.
Beasts should be beasts. It would be best if they were consumed by the food chain in this harsh northern ecosystem.
* * *
Kian returned to Ramsey just as the sun was dipping below the horizon.
From the hills surrounding Azancourt, the distant echoes of victory celebrations floated through the cool evening air. Nearby villages and fortresses were alive with cheers and laughter. At the heart of it all stood the magic fortress, where Rufna and the Holy Squad remained stationed, vigilant for any lurking Beastmen or Owl ambushes. Talia's enhanced beetle golems were lined up in neat formation, ready to face any frenzied Owl assaults.
"Princess, please watch your step," Natra said politely, offering her hand to Marilyn as she carefully dismounted from her horse.
Maribel—the old witch, her dark blue eyes gleaming sharply in the fading light—looked up, sensing something.
"Did you hear from Kian?" she asked softly.
"I didn't say that," Natra replied cautiously.
"Huh, then why—"
"It's his attitude toward you—how you walk, speak… It gave me a strong feeling. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." Natra's voice was steady, reassuring.
"Ah… y-yes," Marilyn murmured, her cheeks flushed slightly. "Lady Natra may be young, but she's sharp."
Behind them, Bertrand slid down from his horse. Twenty Beastmen children were led in tow, bound together with ropes. Among them were silver wolves, black panthers, and steel tigers. The silver wolves were the largest group.
The children had walked in silence, their eyes vacant, lifeless. But as they reached the fortress, their expressions shifted to one of unease.
Maribel shed her heavy robe, lifting the old witch's disguise from Marilyn's features. Thanks to the powerful barrier of the fortress, even revealing her true self here would not attract Owl spies.
"Bertrand, please untie them," Maribel ordered.
"Yes, Lady," he responded immediately.
"What? What's happening? What will you do to us?" one of the children's voices trembled.
"D-Don't touch us!" another cried out.
From among them, the eldest silver wolf girl stepped forward, arms outstretched in protest. She looked younger than Serena but spoke with a surprising authority.
"Are you planning to use us for Beastmen hunting as entertainment during the banquet?" she demanded.
Next, a tall, slender black panther boy took a step forward. His magic power radiated strongly—almost rivaling the silver wolf girl's. This was the boy Maribel had selected first during the trial.
Maribel met his gaze calmly. "I am Margrave Izerland Maribel Danofen," she introduced herself firmly.
"Wha… Maribel, Danofen…!" the children murmured in recognition.
While Kian and Natra stared tensely, Maribel's gaze swept over the group.
"I was a prisoner until last month, and thanks to Kian, I'm standing here now. Until then, I was powerless—just like all of you," she said, her voice quiet but steady.
"The Princess bought us?" the silver wolf girl whispered, clutching the smaller children protectively.
"Yes. I am your buyer."
Maribel's eyes locked onto each child in turn.
"What does the princess want from us? You have enough servants already, don't you?"
"That's true. But I did not buy you to be servants. I invested in you to be my personal subordinates."
"We're just kids!" someone protested.
"For now, yes~desuwa," Maribel smiled faintly. "But from now on, you will study, train, and become outstanding warriors, witches, and officials. When you're strong and prosperous, you will help your homeland by supporting your fellow countrymen financially."
The children were silent, absorbing her words.
"Save yourselves from ruin with your own strength. For your futures, strive desperately under my guidance. But if you lack the resolve or confidence, you may return to the refugee camp in the swamps."
Maribel reached out and took the black panther boy's hand. He hesitated, looking down at the much smaller princess. She released his hand and moved to stand before the silver wolf girls.
"Those who will follow me, kneel here," Maribel commanded firmly. "If you kneel before me, I swear by the name Danofen that I will protect you as your guardian, to the very end."
She turned to the steel tiger girls.
"Choose now. Even at your age, you have the right to decide."
"I will obey, Lady Maribel," a delicate steel tiger girl said without hesitation, kneeling. A fierce ambition burned in her eyes.
"Me too. This is the perfect story," said a medium silver wolf girl, stepping forward to kneel.
Then the smallest girl, protected by the elder, brushed away her arm and stepped forward herself.
"Can you read many books?" she asked shyly.
"As many as you wish," Maribel assured her.
"Then I'll follow you."
"Hey, if I get stronger, I can help the tribe, right?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll follow you. Not like I have much choice…" she muttered.
"I'll follow too," said the black panther boy beside the large one, kneeling quietly. His magic power was unusually strong, and his gaze remained watchful—unlike the other children's empty expressions, his mind was sharp.
Kian thought it best to keep his distance from this one, but Maribel had paid the highest price for him. She had said, "He smells like Kian."
(I really don't think I resemble that cold-hearted guy at all.)
"Their personalities aren't the same. That boy is much more sincere. In ability, they're about equal."
(Isn't that a miss?)
"Without considering magic and physical power, they're about the same."
(This is tricky. Magic power and physical skill alone don't tell the full story.)
Before the subtly conflicted Kian, all twenty children finally bowed their heads to Maribel.
She gave a signal to Bertrand and waved her staff, opening a glowing teleportation gate.
"Everyone, welcome to Izerland. Once you step through, please follow Lucretia, the witch with glasses. She will guide you to your new residence starting today."
One by one, the Beastmen children stepped through the portal and vanished.
Maribel pulled her robe back on, returning to her Marilyn form.
"It was not 'surviving bandits' with Bertrand. I will now leave the 'regular army.' Kian, thank you deeply for this time. I will never forget your brave figure for as long as I live as Maribel."
"No, no. Once the post-war matters settle, I will return the castle's seal."
"Yes. I will leave Aerial behind, so please take her once everything is arranged."
"Understood."
"And… could you lend me Ms. Natra for about three years?"
"Huh? What for?"
Natra blinked in surprise at the sudden request.
Kian shrugged. "Her Highness wants to hire you. If you want to work under Princess Maribel, I won't stop you."
"…Sir Kian doesn't need me?"
"Of course, you're an important companion. I'd be lost without you."
"Then I refuse."
"I thought you'd say that…"
Maribel glanced at Natra longingly, then bowed slightly.
"Excuse me," she said softly, and disappeared into the shadows cast by the fortress, Bertrand following close behind.
They moved on to gather the bandits who were drinking nearby, both inside the village and within the fortress walls.
"Shall we go too?" Natra asked.
"You're going to the banquet, right?"
"No… I'm not good with banquets. It's better if a gloomy guy like me stays out of it. I want to take the materials from Arminus's body—which we've recovered—and start working on reviving Isthbaran. I also want to ask Guy to make the promised weapons."
"It's strange that you—the main figure of the banquet—aren't participating."
"That's fine. I want to spend my time quietly."
Kian's words drew a sigh from Natra, as if exasperated but resigned.
"Understood. Then I'll accompany you. But first, take a bath and eat. You might have forgotten, but we've been at war all day. You should at least take an hour to relax."
Notes:
• Malbodous – Male. Member of the Steel Tiger Clan. A formidable warrior with significant combat experience. Relationship: Part of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
• Arminus – Male. Leader of the Black Panther Tribe. Possesses extraordinary physical abilities, enhanced by the tribe’s unique technique that repels energy and magic attacks. His speed and strength surpass those of High Warlord Isthbaran. Wields the magic sword Balmung, capable of cleaving through an ice dragon with a single strike. His black fur provides camouflage in low visibility, making him nearly undetectable. Relationship: Leader of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
• Bertrand – The recent knight recruited by Maribel from bandit. He is from boar tribe and have goblin-like face.
• Marilyn – Female. An elderly witch who uses a hoarse voice. She is versatile, skilled in basic magic, teleportation gates, and large-scale group chants. Despite her age, she is sturdy and capable of frontline combat. She acts as a mentor figure to Botti and Aerial.
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Louis – Trusted subordinates from the Châtillon family, part of Guy’s elite force.
• Lishena – Trusted subordinates from the Châtillon family, part of Guy’s elite force.
• Aerial – Female. A modern-looking young woman with short brown hair, revealing clothes, and gaudy accessories. She specializes in healing and basic magic but is cold and unsociable. She has a sad backstory related to losing her ability to sing magic.
• Botti – Female. A petite, nervous witch with long bangs that hide her expression. She specializes in curses and weather control. Botti is socially awkward but follows direct orders well. Her appearance is small and animal-like, often hugging a staff larger than herself.
• Serena – Wolfmen Girl
• Azancourt – A location mentioned by Kian when discussing his terrain survey of Ramsey’s wetlands. Likely near Ramsey.
• Isthbaran – The High Warlord of the ‘Storm Herd.’
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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