Belamus descended from the gate, his pace measured and cautious. Up close, the resemblance to human children became even more confusing. The woman—because she was a woman, not a girl—appeared to be in her thirties, at least judging by her face. She wore light armor and had a small axe strapped to her back. Clearly, she was no stranger to battle.
The child in her arms, on the other hand, looked far more like a true toddler. She was limp, eyes closed, and showed no signs of waking. Either she was just sleeping, or she was unconscious for some other reason.
Belamus stepped closer. “What happened?” he asked, calmly but firmly.
The woman looked up, startled at first. But then relief softened her features.
“Oh… You understand our language,” she said, her voice steady despite the pallor in her cheeks. “We were traveling through the forest when I was injured… I fear I won’t last much longer.”
She spoke in an eerie calm, as if already resigned to her fate.
Belamus didn’t want to believe her, but when he looked closer, he saw the truth: a deep gash ran across her abdomen, blood soaking through her armor in thick, dark sheets. It was worse than he’d expected—far worse. Even with advanced healing magic, this kind of wound might already be beyond help.
Time was running out.
“Please… I beg of you… Take care of her. Take care of Lady Mimi.” The woman’s voice trembled with desperation, but her gaze was unwavering. “They said she was cursed… and we were cast out of the Kingdom of Crystia. As her knight, it was my duty to protect her. But now… with these wounds… I don’t have much time left.”
She paused, breathing heavily, but pressed on. “All I can do now is believe in your kindness. I entrust her to you. Please. Please protect her. I’m begging you… She’s all I have left.”
She bowed repeatedly, her forehead nearly scraping the ground with each motion. There was no trace of pride in her actions, only urgency and a fierce, unrelenting will to protect. So, she wasn’t the child’s mother after all. She was a knight, and the girl’s name was Mimi.
The woman was at death’s door, yet she wasn’t pleading for her own life. She didn’t care about herself. All that mattered to her was the girl in her arms. That alone moved Belamus deeply.
He stepped forward, voice steady, clear, and firm. “I understand. I’ll do everything I can.”
Upon hearing his words, the woman’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank goodness,” she murmured. And then, she collapsed forward.
Belamus knelt beside her, checking for signs of life, but it was too late. Her chest no longer rose. Her breath had stopped.
Silently, he gathered the knight’s body and gently lifted the unconscious Mimi into his arms. She remained limp, her eyes still shut. For a terrifying moment, Belamus feared she too was gone, but a soft, faint beat pulsed beneath her chest. Her heart was still beating. She was alive.
When Belamus returned through the gate into Beresdral, Ugo came running up, his face pale with worry.
“Sh-She didn’t make it, did she?” he asked, voice tight and uncertain, as if afraid to hear the answer.
Belamus shook his head grimly. “I was too late. But the child survived.”
Ugo’s shoulders slumped. “So, they weren’t dangerous after all…?”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Belamus replied, though a thread of unease curled in his chest.
They may not have been enemies, but someone else might be. If this Lady Mimi had been exiled for a curse, there was a chance others would come hunting for her. Beresdral could be caught in the crossfire.
Have I taken on more than I should have?
The idea nagged at Belamus, but it was too late for second thoughts. He had given his word. He had looked a dying knight in the eye and promised to protect the girl she’d given everything to save.
Belamus carried the unconscious girl to Beresdral’s assembly hall and laid her gently on a prepared cot. Her breathing was shallow but steady. The stillness of her expression made her look as though she was simply sleeping, though he knew her journey had been anything but peaceful.
Next, he turned his attention to her fallen protector. A burial was the obvious course of action, but a quiet doubt tugged at him. After all, the knight had entrusted the girl, Mimi, to him with her dying breath. If she had been more than a guard, if there had been a deeper bond, then burying her without allowing Mimi a chance to say goodbye might be cruel. And yet, confronting death so soon after trauma might only deepen the child’s pain.
He was weighing that uncertainty when the woman’s body began to glow, and a sudden flare of light engulfed the chamber. Belamus shielded his eyes, and when the radiance faded, the knight’s body had vanished. Only her armor, a few scattered belongings, and a brilliant red gemstone glowing softly against the floor remained in its place.
She hadn’t been cremated or otherwise disintegrated by some outside force. This had been something intrinsic to her nature; her body simply ceased to exist after death. Even with all his encyclopedic knowledge from his previous life, Belamus couldn’t name a single race that vanished upon dying. The mystery of her identity only deepened.
He stooped to retrieve the gemstone, and the moment his fingers touched its surface, a pulse of magical energy surged through him.
“Incredible,” he whispered after a moment.
The stone pulsed with immense, tightly woven magical energy. In his past life, Belamus had encountered magical gems before, rare stones that could amplify a mage’s abilities or, in exceptional cases, unlock unique powers. But this gem… this one eclipsed them all. It was denser, more refined, and more potent than anything he’d ever seen.
Without a doubt, this had belonged to the knight. Perhaps it had been her final tool of protection, or a relic of her homeland. Regardless, Belamus instinctively felt that it should stay with the one she died to protect.
He placed it gently against a piece of discarded armor beside the girl’s cot. It would be there for her when she woke up.
“Cute little thing, huh… Is she human?” came a quiet voice behind him.
Belamus turned to find Delarosa watching from the doorway, her tone lightly curious. Word of the girl’s arrival had already spread through Beresdral like wildfire. Delarosa, along with Medello, Navasha, and several others, had trickled into the hall, drawn by curiosity and concern alike.
He’d considered keeping the place locked down; Mimi needed rest, not attention. But seeing the villagers’ hushed tones and gentle movements, he decided to allow their presence under one condition: no noise, no disturbance. Just quiet observation.
“She’s not human,” Belamus said flatly.
“Then what is she?” Delarosa leaned in, wide-eyed with curiosity.
“I don’t know,” Belamus admitted, his tone uncharacteristically uncertain.
“What? Seriously?” Delarosa blinked, leaning forward with exaggerated surprise.
Medello, too, blinked in disbelief. “You mean you don’t know? That’s unusual.”
She had always assumed Belamus knew everything. Encyclopedic knowledge seemed to be part of his being, so this admission caught her off guard.
At that moment, a new voice called softly from the doorway.
“May I come in?” It was Liza, standing just outside the assembly hall with her hands clasped politely.
Belamus nodded. “As long as you don’t make a fuss.”