Volume 4 Chapter 69 Twisting Fate ①
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After gorging himself on the first real sleep he’d had in days, Kian woke the next morning to find Talia already fussing over him—scrubbing his skin clean, shaking out his dusty clothes, smoothing the creases with those small, stubborn hands.
A proper night’s rest really did wash the grime out of his brain. Everything felt lighter, crisper, like his mind had been rebooted. He decided right then that no matter how packed his schedule got, he needed at least three hours of sleep a day. East End’s rigid routines had made that easy… but once he’d stepped outside its tight loop, all the structure had scattered like dry leaves. The moment new things piled on, sleep was always the first thing he sacrificed. He knew it was dumb, but he always ended up putting it last.
Theoretically, he could save time by cooking simpler meals for his crew, cutting back his training hours, or—Talia’s favorite suggestion—skipping his little flings with random women, but… yeah. Not happening. That part of him just wasn’t negotiable.
”I’m heading out, Mr. Gaius,” he called as he passed the old man puffing lazy coils of smoke from his pipe after breakfast, and then he left the plateau behind.
First order of business: gathering supplies for Talia’s astrology work.
Her list had sounded simple at first—circular protractor, triangular ruler, star charts, oversized sheets of paper, a magic book listing all the constellations visible from this region, a horoscope wheel—but then came the kicker: one fresh bear arm.
Obviously, he had questions.
He could see the logic in the measuring tools and paper, but a bear arm? That felt like it had wandered in from a completely different shopping list.
When he asked why, Talia had explained it like it was the most natural thing in the world: astrology alone could only predict fate, not change it, so the bear arm was needed to perform astro-mageia.
Manipulating the movement of celestial bodies themselves was impossible, she said—but nudging the effect they had on the human body was doable. Sort of. “Like… if the stars said you were going to die in an hour,” she had told him, “then unless you interfered, the power of fate flowing from those stars would push you toward death. But if you use the bear arm to divert or weaken that ‘death fate,’ you might dodge it completely—or at least survive the encounter instead of dying outright.”
And if, she added, he managed to distort the ‘death fate’ so thoroughly it rewrote itself into a ‘survive no matter what’ fate, then he could theoretically walk through a battlefield wrapped in dumb luck and still come out breathing. Maybe.
So yeah. The bear arm was crucial.
”Just don’t forget—it only works for a short time,” she had warned him. “And if literally every celestial body in the sky is screaming your death, their shadow will still stick to you. It won’t make you immortal. But… it works. Source: me. I tested it.”
(Why would you even test that on yourself…?)
”Because I had a spirit stalking me,” she’d replied breezily as he trekked down the slope toward the eastern coastal market town. “If I let my guard down, it tried to snatch me away, so I learned to bend and mute and boost fate’s pull as needed.”
(Fair enough. Also—kinda impressed you’ve gotten so fluent in Western Common that you can drop words like ‘stalker’ now.)
”Try dealing with you twenty-four seven and see how fast your language improves. Anyway—find everything on the list, okay? We’re gonna crush those revenge creeps with pure fate power. Nothing tastes better than the look on someone’s face when their perfect plan gets blown apart by sheer luck. It’s like top-shelf shutou [T/N: 酒盗, a rich, salty Japanese seafood paste eaten with sake].”
Prodded by his little princess, Kian scanned both sides of the street as he walked deeper into the market.
The stalls were crowded with fresh-caught fish and imported spices, all flashing silver and red and gold under the rising sun. Useful if he wanted dinner… not so much for astronomy. No sign of protractors or triangular rulers, much less horoscopes or magical tomes linking the local constellations with the gods.
And obviously, no bear arms.
Which made sense—Crete didn’t even have bears. Dried bear paws, maybe, if he got lucky, but a fresh arm? No chance. He asked around anyway, flagging down harried shopkeepers, but every one of them just blinked and said no, and if he wanted magical texts he should try the magician guild. One old man had even squinted at him and gone, “Horoscope? What’s that?”
By the time he finally tracked down a triangle ruler and circular protractor meant for astronomical surveying, the sun was high and it was already ten a.m. The hours were slipping through his fingers like sand. He’d thought half a day would be plenty. But if Priscilla showed up this afternoon, and he still had to deal with Gensou afterward, he’d be out of time and forced to roll this whole errand into tomorrow.
East market was a bust. Maybe he should try the northwest district—
”Small world, Lord Kian.”
The calm voice of a girl drifted from behind him. He turned toward the sound, at the end of the street where the white slope rose back toward the plateau.
Stepping out of the shade of a massive rock dome came Rita, the white fox beastman.
She wore a loose white sundress that bared her shoulders, with simple sandals. Her glossy hair was tied up with a red ribbon, the stray locks around her cheeks trimmed neat and short, her nape cleanly shaved so not a single hair stuck out of place. The sleek line of her neck caught the light like porcelain.
She wasn’t carrying her Blue Thunder Stone spear. Not even a knife hung from the slim belt cinched around her waist.
Considering the war creeping closer by the hour, the Order of the Lightning Knights should’ve been drilling nonstop—shoring up defenses, practicing squad formations—but here she was, wandering the market in broad daylight like she had nowhere in particular to be.
”Shopping?” he asked.
Even now, she was absurdly beautiful. She smelled faintly of incense, and her figure was unfair in all the ways that made passing men sneak glances at her.
But she was a warrior monk.
She’d lied before, hidden truths, and met with enemies in secret. Lowering his guard because of her looks would be stupid. If she wanted to trap him, she could.
”Sort of,” she said.
”You off-duty today?”
”Got made off-duty. From now on, permanently.”
”…Wait, you mean—”
A herd of cattle came trudging up the road, and Kian stepped aside to let them pass. Rita glided closer, silent as moonlight, slipping to his left-front flank in a single fluid motion. She smelled even better up close. His mind leapt shamelessly ahead to sex without asking him first.
(Pig-d**k. Stand tall with dignity. Stop drooling at her chest, you lust-crazed pig.)
(Yes, nmo.)
(Asterios!?)
”I got expelled from the Order of the Lightning Knights yesterday,” she said, unbothered by his eyes on her. “Instead, they stuck me in this special irregular skirmish unit as a temporary volunteer soldier. Basically, I got fired from the order and now the kingdom’s going to use me up in the war. I’m the only one in the unit, and there won’t be more. I don’t have a clear job. Just…”
She glanced behind her.
Two men in guard uniforms were standing at the market exit. They flicked their eyes away the instant Rita looked their way.
”…they gave me minders. Probably just a waste of taxes and manpower.”
”Sounds rough,” Kian said.
”Better than prison. That’s thanks to my past achievements—and the Princess’s influence.”
Her tone was casual, with no real bitterness. Her heartbeat didn’t even jump. He could never tell what this girl was thinking. And honestly, now that she wasn’t even a knight anymore, Kian didn’t have any business with her—besides maybe sex. He muttered a half-hearted “Good luck, then” and started to turn away.
And then—
”—!”
She was suddenly right in front of him. No shimmer of magic power, no trace of a teleportation wave—just there. Black wisps like crow feathers scattered across the white stone street where she’d stood a second ago.
”Secret Technique ‘Mist Raven,’ huh. You figured out how to use it?”
”I hadn’t,” Rita said plainly, the morning light cutting sharp over her cheek. “But I stole it by watching you.”
”…How many times have I even used ‘Mist Raven,’ I wonder,” Kian muttered. “None of the other girls in the Order of the Lightning Knights could ever reproduce even the simplest ‘Shadow Pursuit.’”
”They lack the basics. And even with those, it takes six months of training before you can control the recoil from ‘Shadow Pursuit.’ Don’t mind me. I just… remember things better than most people.”
There was no hostility in her voice. No hidden edge. Just Rita, lazily pressing down her ponytail as the sea breeze tried to tangle it. The gesture was almost bored.
”I still owe you for the other day,” she said after a moment, her golden eyes steady. “It wouldn’t feel right to leave it at a thank-you. It was a life-debt. If you hadn’t come, I would’ve been killed. Princess too, maybe. So… let me at least buy you lunch.”
”I’ve said it many times, but I’m—” Kian sighed, glancing at her—”kind of in a hurry.”
Yet the way she smiled, relaxed and soft like they were just two strangers on a lazy day, threw him off. Last time they’d met she’d literally promised to kill him. Now she didn’t seem to remember it at all. Well, she was a warrior monk. Probably trained to charm and disarm people who wanted her dead. Still… this natural ease was unsettling. Almost unnatural.
”Circular protractor, triangle ruler, big sheets of paper… hm. So you plan to do astrology before battle, huh. Ha. If that’s the case, you won’t find what you need in this market.”
”You know magic?”
”All elite members of the Order of the Lightning Knights can use magic. Some even passed the court mage exams. I’m no exception. While Princess was keeping me as her pet, I had nothing else to do, so I studied magic on my own. Got my qualification here in Crete.”
She drew in a smooth breath through her nose, then added, “If you want, I can show you where to get everything. Then I’ll treat you to lunch. Would you accept that as a fox’s thank-you?”
”…Honestly, I haven’t found a single thing yet and it’s been driving me crazy,” Kian admitted, finally giving up. “If you could guide me, that’d be great.”
”Heh. Leave it to me.”
Rita pivoted lightly on her heel, her ribbon flicking like a red spark. “This way. We’re going to the northwest district. Once we get there, you’ll have it all within an hour.”
* * *
Just like she’d said, they found everything.
Kian ended up in a shady back alley talking to a washed-up magician-turned-butcher, paying him to deliver a fresh bear arm to Elder Gaius’s house by tomorrow night. Relief hit him like cool water.
If he hadn’t gotten it done today, tomorrow would’ve been impossible—he had to hand Lyritisse over to August for safekeeping, then take on Asterios’s form to back Priscilla during her talks with Scipio. There wouldn’t be a spare second to breathe.
The supplies were gathered—but annoyingly, he realized he’d started to feel grateful toward someone he was supposed to be wary of. Somehow, he’d let her charm get under his skin. It pissed him off. If this had been a bed instead of a street café, he’d be lying face-down, clutching his own ankles in frustration. That was how much it pissed him off.
”This place’s grilled seafood is unbeatable,” Rita said later, breaking a piece of squid with her chopsticks. “The trick is lemon and salt.”
They sat across from each other on a terrace that overlooked the sunlit Azrael Sea, the waves glittering like melted coins. Normally Kian didn’t care about food, but right now he was shoveling down squid, octopus, and a salad dripping with olive oil like a starving man, trying to refill the nutrients he’d been neglecting. The way she’d predicted even that made his skin crawl a bit.
”No need to ask if it suits your taste,” she said with a faint smile, tipping her glass of water to her lips.
”I appreciate your help today. Thank you.”
”Think of it as payment… and hush money,” Rita replied smoothly. “In exchange, I want you to stay quiet about me contacting Shidarkan. I still have things to do on this island.”
”If you plan to spy, I’ll report you.”
She shut her eyes and shook her head slowly. “I won’t leak anything. I only want to protect Guria and my friends. When the war ends… when I’ve seen Guria’s body off, I’ll disappear.”
”Back to Azrael?”
”I can’t. And I don’t want to.”
Kian set down his wineglass and laced his fingers together on the table. Might as well use the moment to dig deeper.
”You were Nizaam’s top student, weren’t you? Guria told me.”
”…ah…”
”Ms. Rita?”
”No… it’s nothing.” Her voice was quiet, almost bitter. “…I wasn’t just some disposable warrior monk. But my ties to Azrael are already cut.”
She let go of her temple, sipped her water, and gazed out at the wide sea throwing back the sun in shards of gold.
”…The truth is, after Princess picked me up, I was ordered to infiltrate Crete as a spy.”
”I knew it. You are a spy.”
”Listen to the rest. The one who gave that order had already lost all power by then. While I was here, no one contacted me, and they didn’t care that I stopped contacting them. It was basically half a dismissal. I started enjoying life with Guria, and I made friends here. Honestly, if someone who barely has anything to do with my old master showed up now and told me to switch sides, I wouldn’t listen.”
”Then why keep meeting Shidarkan? Why hide him?”
”…Because I owe him.”
Her golden eyes wavered just a little as she said it.
”Not just him. The whole Malc Family. I hate them, too. But they saved my mother. They educated me. And I repaid them by walking away, like I was too good for them.”
”But that’s betraying Crete.”
”Exactly. That’s why I quit the Order of the Lightning Knights and became jobless. All I have left is to protect my friends, place flowers at Princess’s grave, and leave. Or be executed under military law if that’s what comes. Once Guria’s gone… there’s nothing left for me.”
”……”
”Do you think I’m a nuisance? Some bat flitting between sides? Do you hate me for that, Lord Kian?”
”No.”
His answer came instantly. He knew women who carried things they couldn’t let go.
Rita’s burden was heavier. She was caught between two homelands. It was worse than Sarah’s tangled loyalties. She was dangerous, and he knew he should stay on guard—but hating her or wanting her gone wasn’t the same thing. It wasn’t even part of the same conversation.
She studied his face in silence. Maybe she saw he meant it. Because her lips curved faintly, like sunlight slipping out from behind a cloud.
”I see. I’m glad.”
”But if you betray us, I’ll cut you down.”
”I won’t. I’ll protect Guria, and if I can, I’ll kill Mansoor and Shidarkan too. I’ve paid my debt to Malc. All that’s left is to fight Azrael with everything I’ve got.”
There was no doubt in her eyes. No flicker of hesitation. She meant it.
And that was the biggest difference between her and Sarah, who was still drowning in hesitation.
”Of course, whether you believe me is your choice,” Rita added lightly. “Medea didn’t. Can’t blame her. I’m shady. And she’s the type who can slice clean between public duty and private feelings.”
”Unlike King Minos?”
”I won’t criticize the king or the personnel officers. Soldiers shouldn’t doubt their superiors.”
She sidestepped the question with a flick of her tail and leaned forward over the table. She wasn’t exactly busty, but the way her dress loosened at the front as she did it was… distracting. Way too distracting.
”Lord Kian, if you want… why not hire me?”
”You really say that to someone who’s still this suspicious of you?”
”You don’t want me? I’ll even sign a Magic Contract.”
”Magic Contracts aren’t worth it unless you stack several, and that’s expensive to draft and maintain. Besides, vague clauses like ‘don’t betray me’ barely work. And the mental feedback from the Contract would tank your performance as a warrior. If I use you, it’ll be without one.”
Rita tilted her head, ears twitching faintly under her ribbon as her tail coiled around the leg of her chair. The sea wind slipped between them like cool glass.
”Why ask me to hire you at all?” he asked.
”Because I can’t do anything as a lone volunteer in the irregular skirmish corps,” she said flatly. Her yellow eyes lit with a sharp glint, like a blade catching sunlight. “Lord Kian, when enemy forces land on Water Island, Crete will already be finished. Even if I fight bravely afterward, it won’t matter. As some pretend skirmisher, all I can do is wander market streets like this and pray Crete somehow wins. I can’t protect it.”
Her voice sharpened. “Kian merchant Guild plans to defend Asterios’s island now that the Sea of No Return has vanished, yes? If you’re short on hands, use me. If you fear betrayal, then put me on the front lines. Grind me down to dust and throw me at the enemy if you must.”
Kian hesitated—and then called silently to the girl in his head.
(What do you think, Talia?)
’It’s worth it,’ she answered at once, her voice quick and wicked-sweet. ‘Because someone who might betray you is safest when they’re right under your nose. If she’s close, you can watch her. Even pressure her. And if she does turn on you, Underworld Island is far enough from the Crete Archipelago that it won’t wreck the whole war effort. Honestly, there’s no better post than defending that island. Of course, not hiring her at all is also a safe move. No risk taken, no trouble gained.’
Rita watched him calmly. “You could always isolate the traitor on Underworld Island. What do you think?”
”…Fine. Then I’ll hire you.”
”――――! Truly!?” For the first time all day, her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you. I’ll fight like a woman with nothing left to lose. Use me up.”
”Then let’s work out your pay and contract details.”
”Unnecessary. Just provide meals during the war and spare weapons.”
”…So basically, you’ll work as a slave?”
”I thought I’d made that clear,” she said dryly. “Did you not hear me?”
When Kian finally set down his fork, Rita rose gracefully from her chair. She reached into her pocket, drew out a spare red ribbon, and burned glowing letters into it with delicate precision magic. The air hummed faintly at the sharp control of her magic power.
”My address,” she said, handing it over. “I’m renting the third floor of that house. I’ll be moving out of the dorm tomorrow, so don’t bother going there. Be careful.”
”…You really plan to end your life with this war?” he asked quietly.
”I’ve already said so.” She paused, then lowered her gaze. “Once I’ve protected my friends, once I’ve buried Guria’s body, I’ll have nothing left to hold me here.”
For the first time, she looked sad.
”I’ve got nothing left to protect. No reason left to fight. So maybe I die on the battlefield. Or get tried under military law. Or just wander aimlessly after the war and die in some ditch. Lately all I think about is what kind of makeup I want on my corpse.”
”……”
”Sorry. Got a bit morbid at the end there.” She drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders, slipping the mask of composure back over her face. “The bill’s on me. Anything you’d like after your coffee?”
”No. I’m fine.”
”I see. Then I won’t keep you. May your astrology show you a good fate.”
Rita smiled faintly, lifted the clay chit with their bill, and strode into the shop. When she came back out, she bowed politely, then turned east, heading off to finish the rest of her so-called ‘duties’ as an irregular soldier.
Kian drained his coffee and stood.
From the sea, an owl came gliding on silent wings, hooting once as it arrowed toward him, a letter tied to its leg.
* * *
Priscilla’s letter asked him to meet at the old gambling den.
Kian hurried back up to the plateau and, guiding his Chin-Chin, sped toward the inlet where the den stood.
By the time he arrived, Blumer and Priscilla were already outside waiting. Blumer wore a formal suit without his usual mask. Priscilla, of course, was dressed in her signature all-black—long black dress, black beret, and a black parasol perched on her shoulder like a raven’s wing.
The gambling hall was built into the outer corridor of an ancient cavern. Passing the sparse common tables, Kian hurried over to them.
”Good afternoon, Ms. Priscilla. Long time no see. You look well. And hello to you too, Lord Blumer.”
”Hello, Lord Kian.”
”My apologies for the trouble,” Blumer added. “Thank you for coming all this way. Would you like something to drink?”
”No, I’m fine. Already had lunch.”
As he spoke, he studied Priscilla quickly. It had been months since he’d last seen her. At first glance, she seemed the same as ever. Her hair spilling from under her beret was still neat, her face smooth, her eyes clear—not sunken or bloodshot.
But… the body under that dress looked thinner. Her flawless makeup made it hard to tell, yet her skin seemed paler than before. A bit less color in her cheeks.
Not exactly unwell, but not quite healthy either. Just… fragile.
She caught him staring.
”Hmm? What is it?”
Her eyes narrowed faintly, silently telling him not to mention the job. He jolted and said, “Ah—nothing.”
”I’m here on my brother’s behalf,” she said, shifting fast. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Scipio, so could you arrange that? Last time he turned me away, but maybe saying General Asterios convinced me to try again would keep things smooth.”
”No problem. What time would you prefer?”
”Not today. I have to transfer Lyritisse’s custody. Tomorrow morning at ten. If not, noon. Otherwise let Crete set the time.”
”Understood.”
”As for Lyritisse,” Priscilla said, tilting her parasol to point toward the distant sea, “my ship’s anchored offshore. She’s on board right now. I can move her anytime.”
”I’ll notify the Church,” Kian said.
”Ah—wait.” Priscilla lowered her voice. “Not to be paranoid, but… she’s in terrible shape. She’s been kept alive without a soul for over half a year. Her body’s wasting away. Her organs are starting to fail. She’s near the limit. If you take her and can’t treat her right away, she’ll die. Honestly, if I keep her, she might not last a month anyway. And—she looks shocking. Like, really shocking. If we just hand her over as-is, the Church might scream that this wasn’t what they agreed to.”
”…It’s that bad?”
”We’ve used every trick modern magic civilization has to keep her going. When I say ‘thin,’ you’re probably picturing the wrong level. It’s more like… if someone called her a mummy, I wouldn’t argue.”
”Lady Priscilla,” Blumer said evenly. “Won’t she have to be removed from her devices to transport her?”
”Exactly,” Priscilla grimaced. “We’ll have to row her ashore from the ship, which means disconnecting some of her life-support magic tools. She might die of heart failure during the trip. I wish I could bring the ship closer, but Lord Balinars didn’t allow it. Since this has to stay secret, I couldn’t appear myself either.”
”I switched to a Crete ship mid-journey to get into the pier, too,” Kian offered.
”Lord Kian,” Priscilla said, “do you think Cardinal August can come here? Can he move?”
”…Honestly, doubtful. He could barely sit upright.”
”In that case,” Blumer said thoughtfully, “it might be safer to move her to Chatillon first, then transfer her.”
’Wait,’ Talia cut in sharply inside Kian’s mind. ‘Kian. I have an idea.’
(What is it?)
’There’s a way to restore Lyritisse’s body. But only if she’s truly as bad as Priscilla says. We’d have to see her first.’
(There’s a way!?)
Kian’s eyes went wide, drawing suspicious glances from both Priscilla and Blumer. He ignored them.
’It’s simple,’ Talia went on. ‘I go inside and move her organs myself. And while you hold her, I’ll fill her with my soul—the fragments I’ve been rebuilding by consuming the people of Dacia you’ve taken in. At this point, I think I can fill one sow’s body with my soul, easy.’
Kian froze. His mind blanked.
Wait. That would mean—
Even if only temporarily—
Talia would… take on flesh?
Notes:
• Gensou – Eccentric young Eastern monk-general in Azrael’s army, playful yet ambitious. Wields sun-like magic, swordsmanship, and assassination tactics. Linked to three masked wives—Seishi, Oushoukun, and Yougyokukan (Head Magician). Ally of Mansoor and Oji, serves under Jibril, proposes Operation Assassination. First appears Vol. 4 Ch. 45. Reminder: playful Eastern general with masked harem wives, always late but magically explosive, contrasting serious monks with his bathrobe vibe and schemes.
• Shidarkan – Gloomy, bearded son-in-law of the Malc family (Flora’s clan); once a modest Malc magician, ordinary next to Shajar’s elites. Attends the Cyclops Island war council after losing his wife, Flora, and sisters-in-law in the northern base’s destruction. First appears Vol. 4 Ch. 45. Reminder: bereaved Malc son-in-law—sober, doubtful, and dim but dutiful.
• Nizaam – A former member of Azrael’s Twelve Divine Generals and the current head of the Malc family, though he has passed both titles to his daughter to return to the battlefield. He is a prominent warrior noble in Azrael, known for his love of beautiful boys and fierce battles.
• Mansoor – Crimson-eyed elder monk and Azrael’s Divine General from the Shakerdoust domain near Dacia. Wielding mist form, blood-drinking, rapid healing. He ties to allies like Ryoma and Hanami Tsai. First appearing in Vol. 4 Ch. 25. Quick tag: vampiric red-eyed grandpa-general who mist-forms and drinks blood, obsessed with rescuing his captured son unlike other human monks.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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