Volume 3 Chapter 220 The Reason For Wielding The Sword ①
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The moment the magic sword Funeral Dance came down, Kian used the last of his strength to shove Linca around the waist. It was pure instinct—no time to measure force, only to thrust his arm forward in a desperate lunge.
Though awkward in shape, Funeral Dance, now slick with Kian’s blood, sliced past his elbow with a shrill, clear ring.
”Ah…”
The sound slipped from his lips, weaker than expected.
There was no pain.
Only the sickening sense that something vital inside him had been severed.
”W-What happened!?” Linca cried, snapping upright where she’d collapsed into the cobblestones.
She turned to look back at him—only to see his blood spraying in a bright red arc, obscuring her face.
Severed.
By a magic sword beyond regeneration.
The right arm that had wielded a blade for as long as he could remember—
Gone.
That arm, shaped over years of toil, refined until it could mimic a warrior monk’s swordplay without conscious thought, was too suddenly, too cleanly—gone.
”…………”
Kian stared blankly, heart thundering in his chest.
Not just Silver Ice and Windsong Blade—but all his past effort, everything he had built, vanished.
Despair surged in to fill the void.
”Fifth Magic Sword—Rend Tear,” Erynys intoned coldly.
”Ah────”
Kian gasped as the severed arm crumbled into ash.
He clutched at the stump with trembling fingers, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop.
”What a foolish fool,” Erynys sneered. “You keep making the worst decisions. Countless women could replace that one over there, yet you offer up your irreplaceable dominant arm.”
”────”
Kian only grit his teeth, pain blotting out his voice.
”If you resist again, I’ll sever the rest of your limbs. All I want is your intellect.”
”K-Sir Kian!” Linca cried, rushing to his side. Her voice rasped—something raw and unfamiliar.
Amid the metallic tang of blood, her scent reached him: sweet, gentle.
She pressed her hands to the severed stump, healing magic flaring to life.
But his arm was gone for good. Flesh only swelled, rounding off at the elbow.
”────”
His vision blurred. Magic depletion, blood loss, and the sheer trauma of it all dragged him toward unconsciousness.
”Sir Kian! Sir Kian! Stay with us!” Linca pleaded.
”The man who drank Talia’s blood won’t die so easily,” Erynys said coolly. “Right now, he’s just crushed in spirit—having lost his dominant arm.”
”Why would you do something so cruel…?” Linca whispered. “Weren’t you supposed to be Sir Kian’s comrade?”
At her tearful question, Erynys’s breath caught for a moment.
”…I’ll return to the mortal realm for the next few days. During that time, you’ll care for Kian,” she said.
”After hurting him yourself, what do you mean?” Linca snapped.
”Don’t talk back,” Erynys said flatly. “I’ll kill you right here.”
”────”
Linca trembled.
”As long as fear lingers in your eyes, I’ll keep you as Kian’s plaything. Fulfill your role.”
Linca sniffled, arms tightening as she pressed Kian’s face into her soft chest.
Kian, barely conscious, tried to cling to her.
As Erynys had said—she was just a cowardly beast (pig) with slightly better instincts. Nothing had changed since they were children. Back then, too, she’d abandoned him to protect herself.
Cowardly. Ugly. Insignificant.
But maybe that’s okay…
Maybe not everyone needs to be strong.
Just before losing consciousness, Kian murmured faintly,
”Sorry, Linca.”
* * *
Sarah, having completed the excavation of the sealed underground fourth floor of Ramsey’s Catacombs, returned to the castle office for the first time since noon. She sat alone, drinking coffee.
Sweet coffee, heavy with honey.
Her favorite—yet now, it tasted like nothing.
She stood before the balcony door, bathed in moonlight, staring at her own reflection in the glass. Her face was blank. A sigh slipped from lips painted red, fogging the pane with a brief veil of white.
”I need to be ready to explain everything to the Western Church and answer whatever questions they throw at us,” she murmured. “Oswald was a vampire researcher, so thankfully there’s a lot of material related to Ramsey. Should I contact his property manager and secure access to his private library?”
She leaned her weight to one side, crossing her arms.
”After that, I’ll need to review the urgent administrative backlog. All the issues that piled up during the war—especially the use of public assets and the lifting of circulation network restrictions. If we delay, we risk destabilizing Ramsey’s entire economy.”
She turned away from the glass, pacing slowly.
”Then there’s the investigation into the wartime riots, the lawsuits over property looted by opportunists, and provisional enforcement for those cases. No time to breathe.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
”Still no word from Maribel about a successor to the castle lord,” she muttered. “Since I inherited the role from Kian, I’ll have to take command. Otherwise, everything I nearly died protecting will unravel.”
(So, Kian’s matter can wait.)
Sarah bit her lip and lowered her head.
”There are things I must do,” she whispered, “so I won’t even mourn him.”
Even if she didn’t have duties, could she cry for Kian?
…Probably not.
The colder side of her judged calmly. Even with nothing demanding her time, she would simply move to the next task. Maybe build Kian a grave—but she wouldn’t shut herself away, wasting away like a ghost. That wasn’t who she was.
”…What a cold woman,” she murmured.
Just then, three sharp knocks landed on the office door. Sarah had sensed her visitor’s presence through magic detection.
”Lady Sarah, may I come in?” Rufna’s voice called through the door.
”Please do,” Sarah replied.
”Excuse me,” Rufna said as she entered.
The silver-haired dark elf stepped inside, dressed in the same white work uniform as Sarah, a winter cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She had been tracking the whereabouts of Kian and Linca, both missing since the conflict.
Behind her came a brown-haired, short-haired magician—Aerial.
Sarah, of course, had sensed her as well.
”What’s Natra doing?” Sarah asked.
”She’s still holed up in her room,” Rufna said, removing her gloves. “Hasn’t come out since yesterday evening. The maid left food at her door, but it’s untouched.”
”I see. That’s serious,” Sarah muttered.
”Milady Natra really cared for Master, you know,” Rufna said.
”That girl threw all her precious cards out the window, didn’t she?” Sarah asked, brow raised.
”Yeah… I couldn’t just leave them, so I picked them up. Try to find a collector who’ll buy them, will you? Should be enough to fund the four of us for five years.”
Sarah blinked. “How much was she gambling?”
”She must’ve been seriously into those card games,” Rufna said dryly. “Didn’t even notice Master was in danger.”
Rufna’s sarcasm was inappropriate—but expected.
Typical of a female warrior monk, perhaps.
”Ahem. Um, may I say something?” Aerial asked, raising her hand slightly.
”Of course, Ms. Aerial,” Sarah said, offering a tired smile. “But from that look on your face, I’m guessing there’s still no word from Her Excellency about the new castle lord?”
Aerial nodded, her expression grim.
”The Izerland government sent documents regarding Lord Kian. It’s a notice of dismissal and termination of the acting castle lord’s contract. Here. Please review it.”
”Right, right—termination,” Sarah said, flipping through the papers. “By the way, what about the payment?”
”The contract is void from the beginning. Since Lord Kian has passed away, they won’t be issuing any payment,” Aerial replied flatly.
”Oh, that’s just delightful. Fascinating,” Rufna said, voice sharp.
”Nothing about this is fascinating,” Aerial replied. “We expect payment for the work we did under Kian. If we’re not compensated, we’ll be claiming reparations for the gear we used up.”
”I don’t know what tasks you performed,” Aerial continued. “And the Izerland government won’t accept self-reports. If you were contracted as adventurers, your claim should be submitted to Lord Kian or the Adventurer Guild. The government only had a contract with him.”
”And the work we did as his representatives?” Rufna pressed.
”That was your own decision,” Aerial said with a shrug. “If you get appointed as his successor and the government approves it, you might get paid eventually. But I don’t know.”
”‘I don’t know’? …Heh. You’re an interesting one, Ms. Aerial,” Rufna said, voice low.
”Seems like the princess forgot who protected her from Oswald,” Rufna added, a vein twitching visibly at her temple.
Aerial gave a small shake of her head.
”This document was probably drafted by Lucretia, the head magician—my colleague,” she said. “The princess heard Lord Kian had likely been blown to bits. She’s been locked in her bedroom since.”
”So that’s why there’s no decision about a new lord,” Rufna muttered. “Unbelievable. Look at Ms. Sarah here. She’s already working—no grave, no mourning, and he’s dead.”
”Sorry for being a cold woman,” Sarah said, her voice edged with irony.
”Well, that’s not quite what I meant…” Rufna replied, brow furrowing.
Aerial bowed, as if formally ending her report.
”My apologies for the late hour. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Sarah.”
”────”
”…At this rate, you might end up appointed as the Defense Minister in his place,” Rufna muttered as Aerial disappeared through the door.
Sarah set her empty cup on the desk, clasped her hands behind her back, and stepped out onto the balcony.
”If we’re going to carry out ‘justice,’ it’s better to have a title,” she said. “If that redhead gets named Defense Minister, we’ll probably have assassins sent after us. So in that sense, taking the position might not be so bad.”
”Are you serious?” Rufna asked, narrowing her eyes.
”Rufna. What will you do now?” Sarah asked. “Forget about whoever killed Kian and just wander around collecting magic like always?”
Rufna shrugged, her tone vague.
”I don’t really feel like the Master’s dead, or maybe I just can’t think straight. But I can’t leave broken Milady Natra behind and go frolicking across the continent. There’s also Serena’s education.”
”Do you plan to kill the one who killed Kian?” Sarah asked, voice quiet.
”The culprit’s basically Eleonora, right?” Rufna said, arms crossed. “If I kill her, her relatives and the nobles close to her will send assassins after me. I’d have to flee north to the Goat Confederation or head south to Eldorado just to live in peace.”
”I see. Got it. Then that’s fine,” Sarah said. “Given the circumstances, I won’t force you. Live how you want.”
Am I the strange one for thinking about revenge? Sarah wondered with a sigh.
If Rufna wasn’t going to avenge Kian, then this might be the end of their partnership. She could just raise Natra and Serena, quietly.
”Now that we’ve finally slipped free of the Nakash family’s leash, we might as well live free,” Rufna said.
”I find it hard to believe someone like you followed Kian,” Sarah said. “Was it just stunted emotional development?”
”Maybe,” Rufna said with a chuckle. “But I just liked the Master. He was… different. Pulled off impossible things like it was nothing.”
”Thanks for the cliché. Anyone could say that after reading his combat records. …Enough. I’m heading to bed. Please leave.”
”This is the office, you know?” Rufna said, smirking. “Make sure to sleep in your own bedroom.”
If I’m alone there, I’ll probably cry thinking about Kian…
But she couldn’t say that aloud. Ever since breaking off her engagement to Kian, Sarah had been groomed as the Nakash heir. Showing weakness wasn’t allowed. That rule was etched into her bones.
Rufna winked and said, “Well then, good night,” as she opened the door.
Sarah didn’t reply. She pulled out the chair from under the desk and sat.
(Finally… I can be alone.)
Relief settled deep inside her.
That was when the disturbance struck.
A massive, low-frequency rumble rolled through the castle—followed by an overwhelming wave of magic power. It surged like a tsunami.
”────Huh!?” Sarah gasped.
”Oi, what the hell!?” Rufna shouted.
Both women turned sharply toward the northeast, eyes widening.
Sarah sprang up, flung open the balcony doors, and stepped out. The magic wave hadn’t originated within the castle—it came from far beyond the high outer walls. She jumped onto the railing, bent her knees, and launched upward toward the roof. Landing lightly, she squinted through the starlight beyond the northeastern spire.
The pressure didn’t fade.
Something vast—monstrous and impossibly powerful—was drawing closer.
”W-wait! What is it? Is it coming from the Beastmen camp!?” Rufna yelled, finally catching up to the roof.
”Rufna, teleport to the magic fortress. I’ll head to the outer wall!” Sarah barked.
”Got it!”
”Once you confirm the enemy’s location, meet me at the northeast spire!”
Without hesitation, Sarah launched from the roof, soaring like a silver blur toward the windbreak trees. She landed smoothly, rolled, and sprang into motion—opening a teleportation gate mid-step. In a flash, she disappeared, reappearing atop the northeast spire of Ramsey’s outer wall.
”What the hell’s going on?” she muttered, scanning the horizon.
”Ah, Ms. Sarah!” the watchman called.
The soldier on duty, leaning over the edge of the tower and scanning the northeastern horizon, turned at the sound.
Sarah rushed past him, shoving him aside to peer into the distance.
”────Huh!? What is that…?” she gasped.
A jolt of stiffness locked her limbs.
Her thoughts went blank.
It was, simply put, a small mountain.
Jet-black and gleaming with a poisonous sheen under the moonlight.
In the northeastern sky, just below the pale white moon, something massive—and unmistakably humanoid—stood tall.
No──it was moving. It was walking this way.
”Ah, no, no way,” one soldier stammered. “It’s not an illusion, right?”
”I-I thought I was just sleepy too…” another muttered, rubbing his eyes. “But this is… real.”
Snapping back to her senses, Sarah glanced at the soldiers converging nearby. She raised her voice.
”Relay this to every tower!” she commanded. “A giant the size of the clouds has appeared in the northeast! It’s slowly advancing toward Ramsey! ──You, go to the guard station below and have the patrolling soldiers alert the residents! Begin immediate evacuation!”
”Evacuate Ramsey!?” a soldier blurted out. “Where are the residents supposed to go!?”
”Southwest, obviously!” Sarah barked. “Just get them away from that giant! …From the looks of it, its speed is fast. It’s moving five hundred meters a minute! At that pace, it’ll break through Ramsey’s outer wall in under an hour!”
”────!!”
”Eh──ehh!?”
”…N-no way…”
”Hieee…” the soldiers whimpered.
All eyes turned to the looming shadow in the distance.
They went pale as its true scale sank in.
”You and you, and you and you,” Sarah said, pointing briskly, “head to each gate in Ramsey. Get them all open—the bridge gate, the waterway gate, everything!”
”Can we really evacuate in an hour!?” someone cried. “There are children and the elderly—we’ll never make it in time!”
”Impossible or not, we don’t have a choice!” Sarah snapped. “Those who can’t walk—only the sick and elderly—send them into the city’s underground sewer system! Everyone else runs!”
”I-I understand!” a soldier replied, already breaking into a run.
”Now, move! All of you!” Sarah shouted. “Don’t just stand there!”
”Y-yes!”
”Emergency! Emergency!”
”A giant! A huge monster is coming!” voices rang out as the soldiers scattered.
”Miss!” a voice called from above.
A gate opened in midair, and Rufna descended, wings slicing through the air.
She pointed at the distant colossus and shouted, eyes wide.
”A giant covered in thorns… This is bad—that’s the Thorn Demon from the legends!”
”────!” Sarah stiffened.
”Crap,” one soldier muttered. “What do we do? The Master who could fight it with a magic sword is dead, Lady Natra’s useless, and the demon’s fast.”
”Let’s blast it with magic!” someone yelled.
”No way,” another snapped. “That thing absorbs magic attacks! If we fire carelessly, we’ll just power it up!”
”So we have to take it down physically!?” a soldier cried. “No way—that size!?”
Sarah leaned over the spire’s railing, biting her lip hard.
The giant was estimated at over two hundred meters tall.
No human could handle that with brute force alone.
Even if Sarah herself, who once knocked out a berserk gorilla, punched its ankle, the beast wouldn’t even flinch.
”Seriously,” she muttered, “what the hell do we do…?”
”Let’s drop a meteorite! It’s all or nothing!” someone shouted.
”Shut up, idiot!” another snapped. “Were you even listening!?”
”It might not even be the Thorn Demon!” a soldier insisted. “Even if it is, maybe it can’t absorb magic!”
”What if it can!?” a soldier shot back. “If it sucks up your spell and charges at us, we’re all getting crushed—no joke!”
”…Ugh…” someone groaned.
No good.
There wasn’t enough time to come up with a real plan.
All Sarah could do now was get as many civilians out as possible──.
She twisted her face in frustration and turned to Rufna.
”Fine. I’ll go scout it myself,” she said. “Rufna, take charge of guiding the soldiers and residents to safety.”
”Stop dumping everything on me!?” Rufna cried. “Are you seriously scouting alone!? According to legend, the Thorn Demon shoots thorns and turns nearby plants and animals into Bloodsucking Kinds! It’s way too dangerous!”
”I need to verify if that legend’s even true,” Sarah replied. “That giant shadow you keep calling the Thorn Demon might just be a collective hallucination.”
”No way that’s true! Can’t you feel this magic wave!?”
”Either way, I’m going. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. If I’m not—then I’m counting on you.”
”H-Hey!” Rufna shouted.
But Sarah didn’t stop.
Ignoring her, she flung open a glowing gate outside the spire’s railing, leapt into the sky—
—and dove straight through the portal, headed for the giant’s feet.
* * *
His submerged consciousness stirred.
The acrid scent of long-settled dust mingled with burning firewood.
As Kian cracked open his eyes, he saw his body draped in a worn, mouse-gray sheet—and a figure seated beside him in the firelight’s faint glow. It took him a moment to recognize her, but after blinking several times, he realized it was Linca. She had taken off his white shawl and now wore only a black Eastern-style dress—short-sleeved, with a mini skirt.
”Sir Kian!” Linca cried, springing to her feet and leaning over the bed.
His left hand felt warm. It was Linca’s—she had been holding it the entire time he was unconscious.
”Sir Kian, Sir Kian!” she repeated, clinging to him.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Beneath the sweet scent of her hair lingered the salt of anxious sweat. Her voice trembled, soaked with tears as she called his name again and again.
”Where… am I?” Kian asked, his voice rasping.
His right hand was useless—gone below the elbow. He freed his left hand from Linca’s grip and used it to push himself upright, scanning his surroundings.
It looked like they were in a small stone room. In each corner, faintly glowing yellow mushrooms lit the space from below with a soft, ghostly hue.
[T/N: Mushrooms used as bioluminescent lighting are a common fantasy trope.]
A glass window to his right revealed a strange sight—fish of every color swimming through pitch-black water.
”Moonshore. So we retreated from the Sanctuary,” Kian muttered.
”Y-yes,” Linca said, pulling back at last and wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand.
Then her expression hardened. Without warning, she struck him across the face.
A sharp smack rang through the dim room.
”You fool! Why would you defy Erynys like that?!” she shouted. “It wasn’t even a calculated risk—just a suicidal charge!”
”I’m sorry,” Kian said quietly. “I endangered you. I nearly lost you.”
”You did! It’s all your fault, Sir Kian!” she snapped.
”The situation has changed. We need to return to the real world immediately. Before Erynys returns—or worse, before she consumes Izerland—I have to face her again.”
”What!?”
”First, we find a way back. Linca, once you’re in the real world, flee to another country—someplace Erynys can’t reach. Take Natra and the others with you if you can. But if she finds you, you’re done. Protect yourself first, above all else.”
”W-wait just a moment!” Linca cried, throwing her arms around him as he tried to sit up, forcing him back onto the bed.
She stared him down, her face twisted in disbelief.
”Do you not understand the situation? You’ve lost your right arm!”
”I know,” Kian said, glancing down.
His bloodied innerwear had been removed. In its place, he wore a stark white tunic. The right sleeve hung limp, empty below the elbow.
His brain still insisted his arm was there, but no matter how he tried to move it, nothing happened. A surreal, phantom-limb numbness.
The limb had been severed by Funeral Kagura—a magic sword that scars the soul beyond regeneration.
This arm would never grow back. Kian would live the rest of his life this way.
”If you fight again, you’ll die. You know that, right? You don’t actually think you can win, do you?”
”I’m not that naïve,” Kian said. “Erynys wields all seven magic swords. She’s the strongest there is—and no one knows that better than me. I used to wield them myself.”
First, there was the unbreakable defense of the Sixth Sword, Mistcloud (Kasumigumo), and the Seventh Sword, Water Moon (Mizuki). Even that alone was nearly untouchable. And now, Kian had lost Silver Ice and his magic sword, making him even more vulnerable.
If she came at him with the Third Sword, Heavenbreaker (Tenkaibaraki), he wouldn’t even be able to approach. He’d be slaughtered before getting close.
”Sorry, but I’ll need you to return the Mist magic sword I left with you.”
”I won’t,” Linca said, shaking her head. “What you’re trying to do is suicide!”
”I know that,” Kian said.
”Then why go!? You’ll die for nothing!”
”Because there are people I have to protect,” he said without pause.
If he did nothing, Erynys would kill Aliona, who had come to stop the Thorn Demon. Sarah and Natra, who stayed behind to fight it, would be next. Rufna might escape with Serena—maybe. But more likely, Kian’s entire party would be wiped out.
Then there were Ramsey’s people.
The Beastmen who had surrendered.
The citizens of Izerland.
All of them would be slaughtered, helpless to resist.
If Kian gave up now, none of them would be saved. They’d die screaming—drowning in despair.
That’s why he fought.
”You’re right. I can’t beat Erynys,” Kian admitted. “It wouldn’t even be a fight. If I charged in with just the Mist sword to defend, I wouldn’t last five seconds.”
”Then what’s the point?” Linca asked, her voice cracking as her eyes narrowed. “If you die the second you confront her, then nothing changes! Whether you’re there or not, it ends the same. All we can do is pray that Sir Jibril or Ms. Sarah can somehow—”
”No one can defeat someone who’s mastered all seven swords,” Kian cut in. “Not even Jibril. He’s incredible, but he’s not omniscient—not a god like Azrael. You can’t overturn a chessboard that’s already in checkmate.”
”Then what’s the point of Sir Kian rushing in against an enemy even Jibril-sama can’t beat?! Ahh, this is pointless!” she cried, clutching her head.
”There is a point,” Kian said firmly. “I’ll get close. I’ll force the battle. And in the few minutes before she kills me, I’ll talk to her.”
Linca stared, stunned, as Kian gently pushed her back and met her eyes.
”Erynys wants to ‘restore’ the world, with me as the observer. That means, on some level, she respects my judgment. So I’ll use that moment to denounce her slaughter. I’ll die opposing her. The man she chose—Kian Vahid—will be etched into her memory not as a puppet, but as the one who stood against her until the very end.”
”────”
”If she looks at my corpse and questions herself—even once—that’s enough. That’s a victory. I believe she’ll stop. I believe in Erynys…”
He paused.
”…my glasses,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
He recalled the glasses who had become his companion three months ago.
Though their time together was brief, she had been an intuitive, dependable ally—quietly supporting Kian from the shadows.
At times, she revealed a monstrous cruelty, cold and inhuman. And yet, at other times, her warmth swelled with motherly love. She was like the sea—or the earth. Frightening, yes, but if spoken to with care, she’d smile back.
”I’m bad with words, and all I know is how to swing a sword,” Kian said, voice low.
”So I speak to her through the blade. That’s why Kian Vahid challenges Erynys.”
”You saw her true nature, didn’t you?” Linca said sharply.
”She treated us like bugs, didn’t she? Even if Sir Kian was ready to die trying to stop her, the odds of Erynys listening were almost zero.”
”If there’s even the slimmest chance,” he replied, “I have to face her. I’ll die praying she reconsiders—and stops.”
”A-Are you really… saying that?” Linca asked, her breath catching.
”What do you mean by ‘really’?” Kian said. “There’s no point in lying here.”
”I don’t understand it,” Linca said, shaking her head.
”Sir Kian, your life has been driven by vengeance, hasn’t it? So why would you throw yourself away for others? Please stop this… this cheap, tear-jerking ‘justice’ nonsense!!”
The last part of her words broke into a near-scream.
Outside the window, the flying fish that had been drifting gracefully scattered in a burst.
Linca looked down, then spat out her next words like poison.
”Are you a child? You clung to revenge like a fool—and now you want to save people? Save the world!?” she snapped.
”I can’t follow this. You’re not Sir Jibril, so please, just think like a normal person for once!”
”I’m normal,” Kian said flatly.
”You’re just as insane as Sir Jibril!” Linca shouted. “If I borrow Ms. Sarah’s words—you’re honestly disgusting right now!!”
”I see,” Kian murmured. “Then our relationship ends here.”
”────!?”
Linca’s eyes flew open in shock.
It was the same look she had worn when Jibril abandoned her a month ago.
Seeing that expression, Kian realized, to his own surprise, that his voice had gone ice-cold—as if all emotion toward the woman named Linca Tsai had vanished. But if she couldn’t follow him, then better to let her go. He’d never expected anything from her to begin with.
”Sorry, but I’ll be invoking a direct order,” he said. “Without the Mist Magic Sword, I can’t even speak to my glasses.”
”Please stop!!”
This time, her scream rang out, unrestrained.
Linca clung to him, grabbing hold of his collar.
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.
• 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.
• Serena – Wolfmen Girl
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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