Volume 3 Chapter 217 The Wish Of The Guardian Spirit ①
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The figure of Talia blurred, leaving behind a trail of golden light as the thorned tentacles loomed overhead.
In an instant, she stepped back. With her right hand gripping Water Moon, she unleashed a lightning-quick slash. Water Moon—a curved sword barely a meter long—shouldn’t have been able to sever something so massive. The tentacle, lined with spines and thick with weight, should’ve required multiple strikes to fell. And yet, Talia’s slash tore through a row of them—stretching several meters—as if the blade moved through air.
A heavy, bone-snapping crack echoed through the mist.
Three seconds.
Then Kian moved.
He cleaved through the tentacle that appeared at a sharp angle before him, his Windsong Blade slicing cleanly.
At the same time, Linca, standing at the rear, began to chant.
”Celestial Movement! Summon the Raging Fire!” she called out, voice clear and commanding.
A five-pointed star glowed on the black gloves that marked her as a spellcaster. Between her index and middle fingers, she drew a wooden talisman etched with an intricate pattern.
”Flow of fire, cleanse the evil!” she shouted.
”Linca!” Kian called, glancing back.
He had just cut through a tentacle five meters thick with a single swing, but concern etched his face.
It proved unnecessary.
Linca hurled three talismans skyward and formed a rapid sequence of hand signs. Then she gave the final incantation.
”‘The Crimson Pact’! Make it so!”
The white haori [T/N: traditional Japanese robe] she wore flared in the blast of rising heat. Beneath it, her sleek black qipao [T/N: traditional Eastern dress] hugged her form. As her glossy bangs lifted, revealing her pale forehead, a wave of crimson light fanned outward from the three talismans.
The heatwave slammed into Kian. Instinctively, he raised the gauntlet of Silver Ice to shield his face.
Talia vanished with a short-range teleport.
Where she’d stood, the tentacles writhed, trying to regenerate—only to be engulfed by Linca’s all-consuming fire.
”Song of the Stars,” Talia whispered as she reappeared beside Kian, her right hand extended.
Water Moon dissolved into a blood-red mist. In its place, a new illusory sword shimmered into form.
Her white sandals clicked twice against the stone—thud, thud—as she stepped forward. From the ground, an immense surge of magic coursed upward into her body.
(Magic power from the Spiritual Vein…? Without dragon scales?) Kian thought, stunned.
The energy surged through her like glowing red veins. To Kian, they looked like blood vessels of light.
”Kian, Linca—fall back more than five meters!” Talia ordered.
”Yeah!” Kian called.
”Yes!” Linca responded.
In Talia’s hand, a radiant knight’s sword formed, glowing gold.
The fifth magic sword—Rend Tear.
Its power: a wide-area heat ray that scorched everything in its path. It had once flattened even the dragon-formed Arminus in a single instant, driving him into the earth.
It was a weapon more destructive than Azrael’s fifth Secret Technique, Rend Tear of the Sky, despite sharing its name.
”…Tao, Kanaki, Ruri, Mia… I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” Talia murmured.
Her eyes twisted with pain.
With one smooth motion, she brought the glowing blade to her waist and swung it sideways at the regenerating tentacles.
”U…gh…”
”G…gh…” the monsters groaned.
When Rend Tear Domain, a sword named for rending space itself, moved, it was as if all sound vanished.
A beat later, white light swallowed the scene. The mists blanketing Moonshore flickered—and the town disappeared.
Kian and Linca landed beside one another, shielding their eyes from the intense light that exploded just meters away. When it faded, and vision returned, they saw her.
Talia stood before them, sliding the knight’s sword into its silver scabbard. Behind her, only the scorched rubble of Moonshore’s once-proud buildings remained.
”What a disaster,” she said. “That building had historical value.”
”Seriously!? That power’s terrifying… Is it on par with Oswald’s Sun Magic Sword? Maybe even stronger?” Kian asked, still shielding his brow.
”This is the same class as the Sun Magic Sword. A top-tier spirit weapon,” Talia replied, her voice distant.
She had already dismissed the Fifth Magic Sword—Rend Tear.
”Kian,” she said quietly, “whether it’s Rend Tear or the Windsong Blade, your technique is sloppy. You’re supposed to channel magic into them, like you did earlier.”
”You always knock me down,” Kian muttered. “Can’t even deny it.”
It might’ve been better to let Sarah or Linca handle the Windsong Blade instead. That had already been discussed—and settled.
Kian, with limited experience channeling magic, lacked finesse. He couldn’t shape his magic with the same precision as the others. But magic swords only needed infused power to activate their stored spells, making them relatively easy to wield—even for him.
Still, there was a clear gulf between those with high aptitude and those without, no matter how user-friendly the weapon.
”Even if you’re good with a magic sword, there’s no real reward. Doesn’t matter,” Linca said brightly. “Sir Kian will be living a peaceful life with me from now on.”
”If we can’t return to our original world,” Kian replied. “Talia, can we go back?”
”That’s something we’ll discover in time,” she said. “The spirit of Thorn—this world’s master—is waiting in the Holy Domain.”
”…You’re a messenger of the Thorn Spirit?” Kian asked, brow furrowed.
Talia nodded. “That’s right. You were starting a slow life without ever entering the Holy Domain, so I came to bring you back.”
”Uh… Meeting the Thorn Spirit won’t kill us, right? I’d rather not have my brain sucked out and be turned into a puppet.”
”Wouldn’t that mean you’re dead already?” Linca said flatly.
Talia shook her head. “We’ll only talk. Spirits don’t kill. They respect your will. As I said—once you enter the Holy Domain, you can live peacefully. A farming life, or whatever you like.”
”So after we hear the spirit out, we’re free to choose?”
”Yes.”
”This is starting to feel like those outdoor sermons back at the monastery,” Linca said, staring into the distance. “The abbot’s long, bald lectures were brutal.”
Kian grimaced. He’d hated those trips. With no friends, every moment had been a trial. He remembered almost none of it—by choice.
He quickly changed the subject, not wanting Linca to dive into old school stories.
”Was that you in the memory earlier?” he asked.
”If you’re not blind, you’d notice the girl looked exactly like this body,” Talia said with a smirk.
”The first memory—when you entered Erynys’s ancient temple as a priestess—that’s yours, right? But what about after that? Those kids being swallowed by thorns… that was after you trapped their souls in the gem with the Black Onyx spirit’s magic, wasn’t it?”
According to Count Cain and Burgkain’s testimony, that tragedy occurred during an attempt to smuggle Talia’s soul out of the country using her puppet body.
It all happened while she was asleep—during the temple festival.
She shouldn’t have remembered anything. She’d been unconscious when the children were taken—and before she could wake, the Black Onyx spirit had devoured her, body and soul, erasing her from the world.
At Kian’s remark, Talia slowly shook her head.
”Well… the last part might be someone else’s memory bleeding through,” she said. “Like the kids who got swallowed by the thorns.”
”Up until now, the darkness of the heart has always come from a single person’s perspective,” Kian replied, arms crossed. “But…”
”The third one wasn’t like that,” he added with a shrug. “Don’t get bogged down in the details. That’ll scare women off.”
”That’s actually good,” he went on, forcing a laugh. “Lately, things with women have been… complicated. Maybe being a little less popular will help me live longer.”
”Ah, then in that case, staying here might be the better move, right?” Linca said, brushing back her silver hair.
”────. …Huh? Is what Linca’s saying actually true…?” Kian murmured, frowning.
Honestly, even if he returned to the real world, things would just spiral into a more intense showdown! [T/N: love triangle or harem-style romantic chaos]. Sarah, Natra, Linca, Priscilla, Christy, Aliona—if they all collided, the damage would be irreversible. The last showdown ended with Kian humiliated, paraded through town in a ridiculous outfit. If Aliona joined in, Ramsey might not survive.
I mean, Christy’s quietly terrifying.
She feels more capable of killing with sheer aura than even Sarah—and that’s saying something.
”A slow life with a beautiful wife like Linca… not bad,” Kian mused. “For a bottom-tier loser adventurer like me, that’s more than I deserve, right?”
”Right?” Linca replied, eyes wide.
”Is it really okay for Linca to marry me?” Kian asked. “She’d be stuck with a boring guy like me forever.”
”There’s hardly anyone as interesting as you!?” Linca cried, fists balled at her sides.
”…? I’m normal,” he said, blinking. “You’re the one with all the weird thoughts.”
”Is this person being serious?” Linca whispered, glancing at Talia.
”I don’t know about your personalities,” Talia cut in, “but biologically, you’re a perfect match.”
She wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air.
”From the smell of blood, it’s clear your body types are entirely different,” she said. “Your instincts must be screaming that if you mated, this one’s sperm and eggs would be ideal, right?”
”…I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Kian muttered, horrified.
”You’re saying the most outrageous things!” Linca yelped. “I don’t know anything about that!”
It does feel like doing it with Linca hits different than with the others.
He feels bad for Sarah, but the pleasure is more intense—deeper, thicker. The volume of ej***lation, the viscosity of the s*men—it’s just on another level…
But seeing women as breeding partners is just insulting.
Sarah, Natra, Rufna, Christy, Priscilla, Aliona—they’re all amazing in their own ways. Each of them brings something unique, some spark of passion. What matters most isn’t whether it feels good. It’s about connection—about hearts syncing up. Even a fool like Kian can say that with conviction.
”I may have a good eye for quality,” he said, gaze distant, “but…”
”It’s not exactly a pleasant topic,” Talia interjected, folding her arms.
And I hate that word—breeding.
It makes us sound like livestock. Like we’re pairing pigs on a farm.
Claiming to be good at “evaluating quality” just makes it worse. Like he’s sizing up cattle.
(…So that’s how Talia sees us. Just livestock.)
Kian frowned, hiding it behind a neutral expression.
Talia had always been an ally—a friend who understood him. But as a long-lived species, she must see Kian—who’s mediocre even by human standards—as something lesser.
If that’s the case, it wouldn’t be shocking if she turned on him someday. He’d just been reminded a few dozen hours ago how foolish it is to trust someone blindly.
Which only deepened the mystery—why had she brought him here?
She played dumb, but it was clear: Talia was the one who teleported him and Linca to this world. When asked who he’d pick as a Blood Servant, Kian had answered Linca. So Linca had been chosen. If he’d picked someone else, that person would’ve been brought here instead.
And Talia had kept nudging him to respond to Eleonora’s mediation. That meant she was behind the whole setup. The mastermind.
(What’s her goal? Why force us to confront the darkness in our hearts?)
”Hey, glasses,” Kian said, turning to her. “That third guardian earlier—when it came to the darkness of the heart, didn’t the tone of that Princess Talia illusion and yours feel completely different?”
”What about it?” Talia replied coolly. “Over the years, my tone’s changed. Even humans speak differently as they grow—boys don’t talk the same way as adults.”
”That’s true,” Kian agreed. “A person’s tone shifts with changes in their heart, their body, and their place in the world. But with you, it doesn’t feel like that’s the case.”
”What exactly are you implying?”
”Are you the same person as the Talia we saw in that illusion earlier?”
”────────” Talia fell silent.
”Huh? What do you mean by that?” Linca asked, tilting her head and glancing between them.
”I mean exactly what I said,” Kian replied. “I suspect the Talia in that little show… and the one standing in front of me now, inside that flesh doll—the ‘real’ glasses—aren’t the same person.”
”I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Linca muttered. “I might be at my limit with this whole conversation. So who’s inside the Talia in front of us?”
”That’s what I want to know,” Kian said. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m aiming for the ‘Sanctuary’ to find out who I really am.”
”I still don’t get how going to the ‘Sanctuary’ will reveal your true identity,” Linca said, brow furrowed.
”The Thorn Spirit waiting there knows everything,” Talia answered, her voice low. “Or maybe, if what the fourth guardian showed was truly the darkness of my heart, then the light of day will naturally expose everything… even if the sun never shines here.”
She turned toward the north side of town, where the ‘Rift’ had torn the world open.
”The ‘Sanctuary’ lies to the west of that castle you can see. That was once the site of the Erynys temple.”
”So is the final guardian sitting on the throne of Cain Castle or something?” Kian asked.
”No,” Talia said, gaze flicking between him and Linca. “It’s in front of the ‘Sanctuary.’ Squatting at the entrance to the temple sealed in thorns.”
She took a breath, then gave them both a brisk nod.
”You don’t look like you need a break,” she said. “Let’s keep moving.”
* * *
The power of the Rift that Talia wielded was immense.
Her blazing heat ray had scorched the town of Moonshore—and incinerated the roads beyond.
Charred remains of the Bloodsucking Kind littered the cobblestone-paved road, a grim testament to the destruction.
The three moved in silence along the path.
Though the darkness was thick, their night vision—combined with the soft glow of tropical fish and moonlight—was enough to guide their way. They never once wandered.
With no sign of monsters lurking in the shadows, about twenty minutes passed in relative peace before a tall, thorn-covered hedge rose before them.
It loomed more than twice Kian’s height, a wall of tangled green. Amid the thick leaves bloomed blood-red roses—dozens of them, petals velvety and rich with scent.
”Is this the temple?” Kian asked, eyes narrowing.
”That entrance. The front yard,” Linca replied, scanning the wall.
”This place feels oddly familiar…” Kian murmured. “Oh—right. It’s the Labyrinth of Roses, in the East End suburbs.”
”The owner of that mansion was a lady named Camilla,” Linca said.
”She was a vampire of this era too,” Talia said quietly. “Like Albert Cain. A greedy pig obsessed with cheating death.”
”You know about her?” Kian asked, glancing at her.
”I just know,” Talia replied coolly.
She placed a hand on the hedge of thorns.
The wall rustled violently, then slowly parted to either side. The labyrinth they once would’ve had to force their way through now opened easily, revealing a single, straight path leading to a massive iron gate.
It stood about two hundred meters away.
Without a word, Talia began walking. Kian and Linca followed.
”The final darkness of the heart is a formidable enemy,” Talia said, eyes never leaving the gate. “Though its power cannot be recreated, every other ability has been restored to its peak. Drop your guard, and you die.”
She glanced at her companions.
”Kian, I’ll lend you my blood-armament. Use it exactly as I instruct. Linca—you’ll receive orders too. Support us.”
”Understood,” Kian said.
”Got it,” Linca added with a sharp nod.
What was about to begin…?
Just before reaching the gate, three shadows appeared ahead of them.
No—more accurately, it was one massive illusion, flanked by two humanoid figures.
The enormous one was clearly non-human—a demon. Serpentine hair writhed around her head, and colossal eagle-like wings unfurled from her back.
She cradled a lifeless girl in her hands. Rend Tears—large, shimmering drops—rolled down her cheeks.
”Talia…! Talia! My dear Talia! Wake up…! Please…!” the massive woman cried out.
Around her, thorns mirroring her writhing hair twisted restlessly, creeping over the corpses of strangled vampires and slowly consuming them.
”Damn you, Albert Cain…! Black Onyx spirit…! You deceived me! I will never forgive you!” she howled.
”Hey, hey. Forget about Cain, but why are you blaming me, Erynys?” came a teasing voice.
The third shadow—arms spread in an exaggerated flourish—stepped before the giant woman.
Erynys, the spirit who shed Rend Tears of blood from pure hatred, turned slowly toward the voice. Her eagle-like wings beat once with fury.
”Black Onyx…!” she snarled.
”Hello,” the figure said lightly. “I’ve sealed Cain’s domain away with my power. It’s over, Thorn.”
”What the hell are you doing!? Why did you eat my Talia!?” Erynys roared.
”Why? Haha. If a ripe apple’s dangling in front of you, wouldn’t you bite it? We live off souls—it’s natural.”
”I’ll kill you,” she growled, voice like thunder.
”What will you do if you destroy this vessel?” the dark, bearded man asked, laughing as he looked down at his own body.
”You can’t truly kill me. It’s meaningless.”
”────”
”Instead of wasting energy, why not think about what comes next? Go on—look for a way to bring your little doll of flesh back.”
”It was you who killed her!” Erynys snarled.
Her howl shook the earth.
”For the one who devoured her to say that… you must be desperate to suffer.”
”Well, listen. I regret it, okay? I did a bad thing,” he said with a mocking grin. “As an apology, I’ll share a secret plan to resurrect Talia.”
”A soul that’s gone can’t be restored!”
”But what if the soul is still there?”
The Black Onyx spirit’s jet-black eyes widened.
”You loved that pet of yours, didn’t you? You always said you wanted to be like her. Well, now’s your chance. Enter the empty shell—that soulless body.”
Erynys’s snake-like pupils gleamed with murderous intent.
The black thorns slithered closer, but the spirit kept talking, unfazed.
”But with a massive form like yours, cramming into that fragile body would crush your soul. So, we strip away the excess. Rebirth. As vampire Talia, you’ll have to start anew. And don’t worry—I’ll help renegotiate that pesky contract with Count Cain.”
”Shut up, you lowly wretch,” Erynys spat.
She gently laid Talia’s body on the ground and straightened to her full height—over ten meters tall. Her gaze bore down on the Black Onyx spirit, Kian, and the others.
”Oh? You’re serious, huh?” the spirit said with a grin. “Guess I should put up a bit of a fight, too. Feels like this’ll be the last time we mess around, so might as well savor the thrill.”
Mid-speech, Azrael’s form began to swell.
His voice deepened into a rumbling bass that seemed to quake the ground itself.
In a single second, his form transformed—black wings spread wide, a hard exoskeleton covering his grotesque, towering body.
Red eyes. Fangs like blades. Long, skeletal limbs.
He was now as massive as Erynys—yet far too monstrous to be called a spirit.
”A Demon…!” Linca murmured, frozen beside Kian.
”Don’t hesitate, Linca,” Kian said sharply.
The words snapped her back. She nodded hard, and Erynys began to fade—her form dissolving into air.
The Black Onyx spirit summoned a gust of wind and launched into the sky.
”Song of the Stars,” Glasses whispered.
Seven magic swords spiraled into the air, aligning themselves around her.
”Kian, I’ll handle defense. Use Heavenbreaker to counter their magic.”
”Got it,” he replied.
”Linca—in twenty-four seconds, summon the Shikigami. Call Mizuchi. Have it aim for the throat of the Black Onyx spirit when it falls. Begin chanting.”
”Y-Yes!” she stammered, already forming the first syllables.
”Hahaha! Well then, let’s have a little fun, shall we?!” the spirit cackled.
From the sky, he spread his arms wide.
Countless glowing stones burst from his body, glittering like stars.
”Rune magic!” Glasses shouted. “Light arrows incoming! Kian!”
”Got it!” Kian called back.
He caught the short sword Heavenbreaker as it flew toward him and unsheathed it.
In that instant, a swarm of white blades shimmered into existence behind him—pointed at the monster above.
”Hahaha! ᛇ(Eiwaz) ᛏ(Teiwaz) ᚺ(Hagalaz)! Pierce through—arrows of light!” the spirit chanted.
The ancient runes echoed like a chorus.
The glowing stones arced through the air, clustering in threes—each set forming the shape of a bow.
It felt like a thousand phantom archers were aiming straight at them.
Beside Kian, Linca’s chant for the Shikigami continued.
To protect her, Kian had no room for error.
(I won’t screw up something this simple.)
Kian analyzed the number and trajectory of the light arrows in an instant. With a swift motion—like a conductor leading a symphony—he swung Heavenbreaker.
A flurry of white blades surged upward.
Ahead of him, Talia unfurled her wings and took flight, wielding the second magic sword—Rend Tear.
* * *
”Lady Eleonora, what is this?” Priscilla asked, her voice taut with suspicion.
After dusk fell, the forest thickened with shadows. As Sarah descended the valley path toward Flower Mountain, accompanied by Rufna, the Holy Squad, and Aerial—the magician who served as Maribel’s attendant—they came upon Eleonora encircled by Natra, Priscilla, Louis, and Archbishop Homolka. The group was pressing her hard.
”Ah, Lady Sarah. Did you find Lord Kian?” Priscilla asked, glancing over.
”No… Sorry, Priscilla,” Sarah replied, her voice low.
”Don’t worry about it,” Priscilla said with a shrug. “I’ve received samples from Lord Kian, so now I’d like to return the favor.”
”Everyone, the sun’s already setting. I suggest we suspend the investigation for now and resume on another day,” Eleonora said, her gaze sweeping the assembled faces.
Behind her, her lieutenant stood stiffly, face pale, shoulders quivering.
Archbishop Homolka furrowed his brow.
”Lady Eleonora, your explanation remains incomplete. Why are there traces of your and Lord Kian’s military boots on this valley path? The footprints are fresh, aren’t they? I was told Lord Kian was busy with state affairs until the day he vanished. Did you summon him here after hours?”
”Flower Mountain wasn’t just caught in a wildfire. It was deliberately incinerated—with enough explosive to fill ten carts. There’s no way an outsider could have hauled that much gunpowder up there without the Sunlightland Knights noticing,” Natra pressed, her tone firm but trembling with barely restrained panic.
”I don’t know! We have nothing to do with this!” Eleonora shouted, her nostrils flaring in outrage.
”Ms. Natra, are you accusing us of burning Lord Kian alive?” she snapped. “We have no connection to his disappearance. This talk of explosives is news to us! You can’t just pin everything on us!”
”Then may we investigate the money trail?” Priscilla asked, smiling faintly. “This morning, a ransom payment was made to Guy, for Abbas—the Shakerdoust heir. Officially, the Shakerdoust family paid it, but the funds came from a bank in the Royal Capital.”
”────” Eleonora didn’t respond.
”To reduce Flower Mountain to ash would take a considerable amount of high-grade explosives. If we follow the money trail, we may find it leads to someone repaying Lady Eleonora’s debts—or purchasing land in Sunlightland,” Priscilla continued, voice even.
”I—I’d like you to investigate as you please,” Eleonora said, stumbling over her words.
”I don’t understand why you’d go that far,” she added. “The man was just a low-ranking adventurer with no ties to Châtillon. There’s no benefit in avenging him.”
”I owe Lord Kian a debt,” Priscilla said coldly. “Whether it’s beneficial or not doesn’t matter. If he was murdered, I’ll see justice done. But first, I’ll uncover the truth.”
”Why are we acting like we assassinated him?” the red-haired knight shouted, tears rising in her eyes.
”To accuse Sunlightland of something so disgraceful is outrageous! And besides, just because he’s missing doesn’t mean he’s dead!”
”Does a decorated war hero simply vanish without a word?” Archbishop Homolka said, raising an eyebrow.
”Especially when he hadn’t yet responded to the Western Church’s inquiry. I asked him to deal with the rogue magician. He said he’d ‘respond.’ Would such a man just disappear?”
”He’s an adventurer. He comes and goes as he pleases. He’s not exactly reliable,” Eleonora muttered.
”To say that the hero of Ramsey lacks responsibility is… laughable. And insulting,” Priscilla snapped.
The slight smile vanished from her face. Her dark-gray eyes blazed with fury as she grabbed Eleonora’s arm. Then, lifting it to her nose, she inhaled.
”Stop that! How disgusting!” Eleonora growled.
”…Wisteria,” Priscilla murmured. “It’s a repellent scent for beasts. I made it myself.”
Swatting her hand away, Eleonora staggered back. Priscilla stared her down.
From the white-haired witch, an immense surge of mana [T/N: magical energy] radiated. Her slender frame seemed to gain mass, and the earth beneath her feet cracked.
”Eleonora. Speak now, if you value your life. Where is Lord Kian?” Priscilla demanded, voice low and deadly.
”I—I don’t know! These accusations are baseless!” Eleonora snapped.
”Châtillon will not forgive you,” Priscilla said. “Consider your days numbered until the evidence emerges.──Excuse me.”
With a curt nod to Sarah, she turned back up the valley path. Though she’d resumed her governmental duties only yesterday, the news of Kian’s disappearance had made her return in haste.
”W-We’ll be going too!” Eleanora stammered.
”Hold it. You’re leaving? This happened near the fort you’re sworn to protect,” Homolka said, eyes narrowing.
”The princess ordered us to return to Sunlightland. We have nothing more to do with this,” Eleonora spat.
”Please avoid stepping on the footprints—we’re preserving the scene,” Natra said coolly.
Eleonora turned a glare on her, eyes sharp. She shoved past Natra and, without disturbing the evidence, took a wide arc around the prints before ascending the slope.
Her subordinates followed in silence.
”…Sister,” Natra whispered, voice hoarse.
”Thank you all for your efforts,” Sarah said. “Neither Kian nor Ms. Linca has been found. There’s no record of them crossing Ramsey’s border. Unless they flew over the mountains or used a nue [T/N: mythical beast capable of flight], they vanished within Ramsey itself.”
”But… Master’s footprints are right here,” Rufna muttered, frowning down at the earth.
”Lord Kian wouldn’t disappear without a word,” Gary said, scanning the group.
”Given the circumstances,” Homolk III added, “he was summoned by Lady Eleonora and ambushed on Flower Mountain.”
”…And Ms. Linca realized he was missing in the night. She used the nue to follow. Then… they were both blown up?” Archbishop Homolka murmured, biting his lip.
”What a loss,” he said bitterly. “One of the finest officers meant to support Lady Maribel’s new regime…”
”I don’t believe it,” Natra said softly.
”…Natra…” Sarah whispered.
”…My lady…” Rufna added gently.
”I refuse to believe Lord Kian is dead!” Natra cried.
She was weeping.
Natra, usually expressionless, unreadable—even her own sister Sarah found her strange.
Now she wept like a child, her eyes swollen and red, her sobs broken and raw.
”Lord Kian… Lord Kian… Lord Kian…!”
She stumbled toward the silver-capped footprints.
Sarah reached out and gently drew her back. “No. Don’t disturb the scene.”
”…!”
”Ms. Rufna, she needs rest,” Homolk III murmured, watching the girl slump in Sarah’s arms.
Rufna nodded and cradled Natra close.
”Um… what should I report to the princess?” Aerial asked hesitantly.
”Just tell her what you saw. No more, no less,” Sarah said.
”You mean… that Lord Kian’s dead?”
”Lord Kian is not dead!” Sarah shouted. “He’s not… he’s not…”
”Yeah, yeah… I get it,” Aerial said gently. “He might still be alive somewhere.”
”Please tell Maribel-kakka [T/N: honorific for nobility] that, for now, I—Sarah—will take over Lord Kian’s duties. I’ll handle matters with the Western Church too.”
Aerial nodded. “Understood.”
”I’ll say it again—Kian is only missing. Ms. Aerial, don’t imply anything beyond the facts.”
”Got it.”
”Rufna, take care of Natra. I’ll set up a barrier—no beasts will get through.”
”Understood, Ms. Sarah.”
”The Western Church will assist as well,” Archbishop Homolka said. “Feel free to use my men however you need.”
”Thank you, Archbishop. And… I’m sorry.”
”It’s fine. Really,” he murmured. “But… this feels unreal. I don’t want to believe it…”
He hunched his broad shoulders and started up the valley path, slow and heavy.
Only Natra’s quiet sobs remained behind.
Notes:
• 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.
• 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.
• Count Cain – Talia’s father.
• 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.
• Louis – Trusted subordinates from the Châtillon family, part of Guy’s elite force.
• Abbas – The heir of the Shakerdoust family, a prominent clan within the Twelve Divine Generals.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply