Chapter 46

3. Twilight “It’s gone… It’s not here.” Shiron had grown tired of hearing this complaint. Ignoring his elderly father’s distress, he flipped through the letters he was holding, skim-reading the pleas people had made. “It’s gone! Shiron! Don’t you know where it is?” “I don’t. The thieves must have sold it off to someone.” “Without it, our family is finished!” “It’s been over a year since you started saying that, Father, and nothing’s happened yet.” “Demonic spirits have appeared! How are we supposed to apologize to His Majesty…?” Shiron frowned, no longer hiding his annoyance as his father continued arguing back. His father truly did have a retort for everything. Shiron was impressed with his own patience for enduring it for the last year and a half. Once he’d finished reviewing all the letters from the western part of the country, Shiron moved on to his next task. The old man was still muttering to himself, hunched over in his chair; although Shiron wanted nothing more than to throw him out of his office, he couldn’t. His father, the previous prime minister, still wielded considerable influence over the castle. If Shiron did something rash, it was him, the young, inexperienced one, who would be on the receiving end of the criticism. Struggling to fully hide his irritation, Shiron went through the texts that had been offered to him. One of them was a thin bound book. Picking it up, he suddenly went still. “This is…” Why did something like that exist? Shiron sat frozen in shock, but after a few moments, he hurriedly began drafting a letter, hoping to change the situation. Inside the thick-rimmed cup in front of her was a viscous, light brown liquid. At first glance, the foamy surface looked suspicious. Even a magic potion would have looked more normal. Leuticia sniffed it warily. Then, having steeled herself, she lifted the small cup to her lips. Bitterness, richness, sweetness, and fat spread throughout her mouth. The princess swallowed the drink, her beautiful face devoid of expression. After a short pause, she spoke. “It’s peculiar.” “Riiiiight?!” Having drunk the same thing, Shizuku let out a groan of anguish and thumped the table with her fist. Leuticia had sent for some cocoa beans, as Shizuku had requested, but since Shizuku had no idea how to make chocolate, she’d experimented and ended up creating a cocoa-like drink. “It should taste better than this,” said Shizuku. “I wonder what I did wrong…” “Can’t you do something about this fat? Even if you just strained it a little.” “Ah… I’ll try that next time.” It seemed like she had a long way to go until she could make chocolate. When Shizuku thought about the people in her original world who’d gone to even greater lengths to create new foods and dishes, she couldn’t help but feel a deep admiration. Shizuku had been eating all of her failed experiments so she wouldn’t waste any ingredients. She slumped her shoulders dejectedly and got the conversation back on track. “We still haven’t worked out why the kids got their innate vocabulary back, have we?” “No,” replied Leuticia. “We don’t even know where the innate language originates from, though, so that’s no surprise. That said, even if there was a realm for innate language and some kind of issue causing an obstruction between that realm and the soul, it’s still hard to investigate matters involving other realms. They’re usually impossible for us to perceive.” “I understand… Oh, but I heard that magic spells exist on higher planes of existence. Can’t you interact with other realms that way?” “A mage can only come into contact with the realms of magical power and spells. Perhaps you could define a mage as someone who can perceive the realm where spells are found. Any other realms are impossible for them to reach, even if they exist in the same space. It’s just like how spells are invisible to people who aren’t mages. That is our limitation as humans.” Leuticia threw her hands in the air as if to say that she was at a loss. In short, there was no way of checking whether a realm that controlled innate language actually existed. Conversely, the possibilities were limitless if you claimed that something was “in a different realm.” The vast nature of the topic made Shizuku sigh. “Still, the main thing is that, for some reason, people are starting to recover from these language impairments.” “Yes, you’re right…” They had repeated the experiments under various conditions, but the cause of the children’s recovery still hadn’t been identified. Only the children who’d been brought to the castle had seen an improvement, and the same hadn’t been observed across the entire castle city. This implied that some aspect of the experiments was having an effect. Shizuku gazed absentmindedly at the ceiling. “Come to think of it… Erik told me there’s a record of a fishing boat picking up a person from another continent a long time ago. Was that person from the eastern continent?” “Hm?” replied Leuticia. “…No, I don’t think so. They were from a continent we had no contact with.” “Did that person speak the same language?” This simple question made the princess’s eyes widen. Shizuku was wondering whether people on completely unconnected continents shared the same innate language. If, as Erik suggested, innate language was triggered by some sort of infection, it wouldn’t make sense for it to have spread to a continent that people hadn’t interacted with. Leuticia didn’t know what to say. She must have realized what Shizuku was hinting at. “I’m…not sure. I think records were made about the castaway’s home continent, so it’s likely that people understood their language.” “Ngh, good point…” It felt like they were going around in circles. Shizuku adjusted her grip on the prototype picture book she was holding. Leuticia, who seemed intrigued by the cocoa-like drink, took another sip and looked up. “Anyway, we don’t know what causes this impediment, so we can’t be sure that another outbreak won’t occur. I’d like you to continue with your work.” “Understood.” “If you stay, Erik might stick around, too. How do you feel about staying in Farsas forever?” “I-I’ll have to think about it…” Leuticia, who’d valued Erik’s talents for a long time, seemed genuinely disappointed that his contract was nearing its end. He hadn’t been spending a lot of time at his laboratory lately, but that didn’t bother Leuticia. She’d once said to Shizuku on the subject, “People like Erik, their talent comes from their ideas. It’s best to let him do what he wants.” The princess was the perfect boss in a sense, and she concluded the exchange by handing Shizuku a piece of paper. Shizuku took it and read out the words that caught her eye. She couldn’t read the whole thing. “A language, invitation, request…in Medial?” “Yes. A while ago, I sent a report on our measures in response to the epidemic—basically, the nature of your work—to the other major countries. Since Kisk is approaching it in the same way, I thought sharing some information would minimize confusion.” “Okay.” “Medial responded by saying that they wanted to look at your learning materials and ‘receive an explanation directly from the person who created them.’ That wouldn’t be a problem for Farsas as a country…but how do you feel about that? If it’s a nuisance, I’ll decline their request.” “Whoa, a business trip?” Shizuku had never expected a job like this to come her way. The map of the continent unfolded in the back of her mind. Medial stretched out across the north of the continent. It was even further north than northern Farsas, where Erik had gone some days earlier. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken a long time to get there, but since this was state business, she’d probably be able to teleport. Shizuku thought about it for a moment, then asked a totally unrelated question. “The person with the red book was last sighted in Medial, weren’t they?” “Yes. We haven’t heard anything since.” “I’ll go, then.” The Farsasian investigation team hadn’t been able to track down the book, so Shizuku was under no illusions that she’d manage to. Still, if she had the opportunity, she wanted to see the problematic country with her own eyes. And if Erik quit his job at the castle, the pair of them might end up going to Medial together, so it would be wise to check things out now, while she had the backing of Farsas. When she saw how quickly Shizuku accepted the invitation, Leuticia gave her a teacherly smile. “I’ll be counting on you. Oh, and I’ll assign Erik as your chaperone, along with a few other people.” “Erik? Isn’t he busy?” “Don’t you worry about that. Given what happened the other day, he’ll probably volunteer to go,” she said. “Besides, he’s strong now.” The king’s sister, a woman famed for her beauty, gently tapped an elegant finger against her right ear. And so, it was decided that Shizuku would visit the Great Nation of the north as a researcher affiliated with Farsas, with Erik by her side. The power was moving around. It used the souls of women as its driving force, tracing a circle in an area of barren land surrounded by tall, rugged mountains. Flowing counterclockwise, it increased the concentration of magic in the land and transformed that desolate place into the underworld. The air was filled with miasma and a bitter cold. The sunlight was obstructed, and the ground was decaying. In a silent, abandoned capital with a cursed history, a towering castle stood in solemn grandeur. Now the castle existed in the company of death, in a state of deep slumber. The day when its massive, tower-like presence would be exposed to the public was drawing near. Farsas was a temperate country. Kisk wasn’t quite hot, but it was warm. It was, therefore, understandable that Shizuku had assumed that everywhere on the continent would have warm weather. But, of course, that wasn’t true. “It’s s-so c-c-cold…,” Shizuku said, her teeth chattering. Erik stood next to her, a look of exasperation on his face. He glanced at Shizuku, who was freezing underneath her thick shawl. “I assumed you were trying out some kind of health regimen, dressing so lightly.” “Well, I’m not. Why didn’t you warn me?” “How’s Mea?” “She’s bundled up in my bag so she won’t get cold…” “Good thinking. If only you’d applied some of those smarts to your own well-being.” “Haha…” Shizuku felt like crying, but her tears would probably freeze if she did. She looked around the castle hall. It had columns and a ceiling, but no walls. “Why are there no walls here? It’s like it’s on stilts.” The view was spectacular. The castle must have been built on a very high spot, and the land sloped gently toward the castle city, where brightly colored buildings could be seen. Past that, the walls and forests that surrounded the castle city stretched out into the distance. To her left, Shizuku could see steep, rugged mountains, exhibiting the harshness and beauty of nature in its best light. The striking contrast of black and white which dominated her field of vision would make for a popular postcard. As Shizuku was using these thoughts to distract herself, Erik responded to her question. “I don’t know why there aren’t any walls, but it seems as though the castle city was built here to make it harder to attack.” “Even Napoleon considered retreating in the face of General Winter.” The open hall, which the cold wind blew directly into, had no unnecessary decorations. Just a black stone floor and white pillars. Shizuku pressed her hands against her frozen ears. She was wearing her formal attire from Farsas with an extra coat and a shawl on top. Erik, meanwhile, was just wearing a coat over his usual mage’s outfit. And he didn’t look cold at all. “E-Erik, can I huddle up to you?” “…You’re here as an official envoy and scholar from Farsas.” “Gaaah! Just let me go insiiide already!” “We are inside.” This exchange brought confused expressions to the faces of the soldiers escorting them. They weren’t sure whether to take Shizuku and Erik seriously or not. Fifteen minutes had passed since they arrived at the castle hall. They had traveled there using a teleportation ring, then gone through the castle gate. Erik might have been okay, but if they didn’t move to a room with walls soon, Shizuku was going to reach her breaking point. However, no one from Medial had shown up yet. “Can I just run around a bit to warm up?” “Let me say it again: You’re an envoy of the state. If you start running around, your sweat will freeze on your body and make you even colder.” “I’m gonna die!” At that moment, the door at the far end of the hall finally opened and an official appeared. He bowed, then signaled for them to proceed through the door. “The king is ready for you. This way, please.” Never before had a stranger’s words made Shizuku so happy. Overcome with relief, she stood up straight and stepped into the royal court of Medial. Of all the castles Shizuku had visited, this stone one felt the oldest. Some of the timeworn floors had holes in them, and drafts were coming through the windows. These things made the place feel a little unsettling. “Uhm, I was just wondering, why didn’t that room have any walls?” Shizuku asked the official as they walked down a corridor of the castle. “So snipers can aim from there, should they ever need to,” the official explained calmly. “Whoa… Thanks for explaining,” Shizuku said, feeling deflated. She didn’t ask him why snipers might be necessary. King Vicas of Medial was a small old man in his sixties. The average human lifespan in this world seemed to be around seventy, so this made him quite an old king. Standing in the audience chamber, Shizuku politely looked up at the elderly man, who was seated on his throne several steps above the ground. The king began to speak, his raspy voice emanating from beneath his white beard. “Welcome. It has been long since I last met a foreign guest…especially one as young as you.” “It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I have come to answer your questions regarding the education that serves as a substitute for innate language abilities.” “Very good. Naturally, I am also very interested; however, it is my prime minister who was keen to hear from you directly.” The king gestured toward a man standing nearby. He appeared to be over a decade older than Shizuku, and he gave her a slight bow. “My name is Shiron.” “I’m Shizuku. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Shiron had a gentle-looking face, but he seemed to be sizing Shizuku up with his gray eyes. Noticing his glare but feeling it would be rude to pay it too much attention, Shizuku remained stoic. After exchanging initial greetings, everybody sat down at a table to begin a more in-depth discussion. Shizuku did some subtle digging before starting her presentation, but it seemed as though children had regained their innate language abilities only at Farsas Castle. Ostensibly, Shiron’s tone seemed regretful. “We are also isolating children who have shown symptoms and conducting experiments on them here in Medial, but the results haven’t been promising.” “Farsas has started incorporating older children into our experiments, too. This has a positive effect on the younger children, but we’re yet to find out why.” Was their success the result of an infection or the effect of education? Shizuku glanced sideways, but Erik’s face was blank. He didn’t tend to be very expressive, but in this situation, his poker face was even more unreadable than usual. “Now then, let me tell you about my educational materials.” Shizuku spread the materials she’d brought out on the table. She explained how they were used, their visual and auditory effects, and what kind of outcomes had stemmed from their implementation. As she explained each main point, the king’s face lit up with the curiosity of a much younger man. He took the initiative of asking more questions about Shizuku’s work. “This magic implement is fascinating. You’re telling me it produces different images and sounds depending on the angle you look at it from?” Vicas had picked up a small silver box. The beautiful box had glass windows on each side. Pictures would appear when you peered into it, and when you touched the crystal button embedded in the corner of the glass windows, the name of the image was read aloud in a recorded voice. It wasn’t cheap to make, but the children loved it. “The rest of the materials are made on the assumption that adults will read the text aloud. This is the only one that we tried incorporating a voice function into. After all, listening is the quickest route to language learning. By having a magic implement play the audio, the children can continue learning even without a grown-up’s assistance.” “I see. What a useful tool.” “Still, it’s best for the child to have an adult by their side to patiently attempt to converse with them. As long as you don’t give up on talking to them, the child will eventually learn to speak, even without these educational materials.” Shizuku’s words weren’t overly forceful, but they offered a glimpse into the confidence she had. Vicas nodded thoughtfully in response to her explanation. His sharp gaze from earlier was gone, replaced with a serene look that he fixed on the young woman. “Truly fascinating. Listening to you makes me think this ailment might not be something to fear after all. How very peculiar.” This was exactly the reaction Shizuku had been hoping for. She gave him a shy smile, slightly embarrassed. “When it comes to educating children, teaching language itself is certainly not a roundabout method of doing things,” Shizuku explained. “Language is used to form coherent thoughts, even if the words aren’t spoken aloud. We only recognize things as distinct concepts because we give names to them. Language is both a tool to express thought and the foundation that greatly influences it. I think that getting children to build that foundation inside their own minds significantly aids their cognitive development.” “I understand. If you become aware of the role language plays as you learn it, you can improve your thinking skills, too,” the king said with a satisfied smile. With that, their meeting that day concluded without a hitch. “That was interesting.” Erik was the first person to speak once he and Shizuku had been shown to a guest room—one with walls. Shizuku turned around from her position near the semicircular fireplace and glanced at her companion. “What was interesting? The room without any walls?” “What you said. About words making you cognizant of the subject, and how language affects thought. That really made sense to me.” “Oh… In my world, the origin of words is something we study. I learned the basics of that stuff in my classes. I’m sure I’ve discussed it with you before—that thinking is really difficult without words.” Why is sadness called “sadness”? It didn’t just refer to a single emotion. It was only because several feelings were grouped together and labeled “sadness” that they were seen as one thing, or viewed as similar. An ache in the chest, the urge to cry, a sense of loss, pain—some or all of these things were lumped together under the word “sadness.” Amorphous ideas only became something when a name was given to them. In other words, although language was a product of thought itself, it was also a key to forming more complex thought. “Even words from different languages that are ‘roughly equivalent’ to each other might have differences in nuance. And when foreign loanwords are incorporated into a language, they can bring new concepts with them,” explained Shizuku. She moved away from the fireplace, got out her notebook, and went back over to Erik. In her notebook, she wrote down the word “dream” in both Japanese and English, then pointed to it. “For example, the Japanese word for dream, ‘yume,’ used to only refer to the illusions we see when we’re asleep at night. However, when the English word ‘dream’ was imported into Japan—which signifies both the dreams we see when we’re asleep and our hopes for the future—we started to use the word ‘yume’ to refer to our hopes, too.” “…Huh. So ‘yume’ acquired a second meaning later on.” “Exactly. In Japanese, we use kanji characters to write, so writing the same word with different kanji can change its nuance. Like ‘ishi’ and ‘ishi’… Does that make sense?” Shizuku wrote these two kanji compounds in her notebook. Although they sounded the same and both meant “will,” one used the kanji for “mind” to refer to a person’s internal resolve, while the other used “thought” to mean the determination shown through their actions. Since her speech was being translated into a common language, she wasn’t sure whether Erik would fully grasp what she meant—but when Erik saw the difference between the two kanji compounds, he nodded. “Basic definitions can vary, so I guess this is a way of specifying the meanings more precisely. To put it bluntly, the amount of meaning packed into a single word tells us something about history and culture… Am I right?” “You probably are. New words and usages continue to emerge as time goes by. Even during my lifetime, some words have gained new meanings over the course of just a few years.” Erik picked up the notes Shizuku had scribbled down and stared at them intently. Shizuku suspected that he might have become fascinated with kanji again, but what he said next was something entirely unexpected. “I’d never really considered how much language could influence thought.” He spoke in a nonchalant tone of voice, but his handsome face held a hint of sadness. Shizuku recognized this look. It was the expression he wore when he was deep in thought. Still, she couldn’t help but think he seemed glummer than usual. Despite her confusion, she replied, “It’s only natural that you wouldn’t notice things like that in this world, right? Here, language is something that comes naturally, like body language or hand gestures… It’d be like speculating whether how you move your hands affects your thoughts, right? That’s too big of an ask. It’s easier to study this sort of thing in my world, where there are multiple languages and they evolve.” Erik didn’t agree nor disagree, but simply gave a slight, self-deprecating smile when he noticed Shizuku looking at him. Outside the windows, everything was covered in white. Heavy, oppressive clouds filled every inch of the sky. Before they realized it, snow had begun to flutter down from above. They planned to stay in Medial for three days. Once Erik had gone back to his own room, Shizuku took out her notebook so she could write a diary entry before dinner, and Mea, in her girl form, brewed some tea. As Shizuku was writing the date on a new page, she suddenly realized that the numbers looked familiar. “Oh, it’s been a year…” “What has?” “Since I came to this world. It’s gone by so quickly.” In this world, each month was exactly twenty-eight days. While a year was still a year, it didn’t completely line up with her old world. Still, the fact remained that an entire year had passed. As Shizuku recalled her travels throughout the continent, she became lost in thought for a while. “I need to buy a new notebook… Maybe I’ll go into town once we get back.” “I’ll come with you.” Smiling at her assistant demon’s reply, Shizuku began writing in her white notebook, her pen racing across the page. She wrote about the open hall without any walls, the snowy scenery, the questions King Vicas had asked her and her responses, and the conversation she’d had with Erik. As Shizuku continued to write, she remembered Shiron, the man who’d been introduced to her as the prime minister. Although he’d expressed a strong desire to speak with her in person, he’d only asked one question and hadn’t made much of an impression. Had he been polite because he was in the presence of his king, or was he simply not the type to take the initiative when asking questions? Unable to work out which was the case, Shizuku simply noted down the one question he had asked: “How did you come up with the stories in these picture books?” The dinner they were served consisted mostly of stewed dishes, but each one was delicious. Shizuku scooped up some of the green leaves floating in the golden soup with her spoon. It looked like cabbage, but was that really what it was? When she took a bite, the leaves melted in her mouth, exuding a gentle, sweet flavor. The natural, vegetable-like sweetness brought a smile to her face. As she took another spoonful, Shiron, who was hosting the guests on behalf of the king, posed Erik a question. “I’ve heard rumors that demons have been showing up in northern Farsas lately. Is that true?” “It is indeed,” Erik responded calmly. Shizuku rarely had anything to say about such questions, so this left her free to focus on her meal. The main dish—a beef and vegetable stew with cheese on top—was particularly delicious. The local cuisine of Farsas tended to incorporate a lot of herbs and spices, so it packed quite a punch, but the underlying flavors themselves could be pretty bland. Medial’s food, on the other hand, was simple yet rich in flavor. The melted cheese that oozed down over the sliced meat made for a very appealing sight. While Shizuku was enjoying her meal, Shiron and Erik continued their conversation. “We’ve seen an increase in demon sightings in the western part of Medial for some time now. At one point, someone hired mercenaries, and a considerable amount of extermination squads were assembled, but it seems most of them were killed.” “Fighting demons is a unique challenge. It’s hard to drive them off unless you’re in a large group or at least used to dealing with them.” “You’re right about that. In this day and age, there aren’t many people who have experience fighting demons—even among the castle staff.” Reading between the lines, Erik stopped eating and furrowed his brow. His aloof gaze turned toward the prime minister of Medial. “If you’re hoping for help from Farsas, I’d advise you to formally request it from the king. Other than serving as Shizuku’s escort, I hold no authority here. There’s not much I can offer in terms of answers.” “M-my apologies. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of your position.” Shiron was rattled. It seemed Erik had hit the nail on the head with his admonition. Shizuku had watched the conversation out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t think Lars was the type of person who’d accept an off-the-cuff request, but she couldn’t see a genuine appeal working, either. Although the king appeared to act on a whim, he could also be uncompromising. Shizuku knew that better than anyone, and she reached out for some decoratively sliced fruit. It seemed like you were supposed to eat it with your hands, so she carefully bit into it, paying attention to the dripping juice. She ate more like a well-mannered girl than a scholar from a Great Nation. Shizuku suddenly noticed that Shiron was staring intently at her, his gaze almost piercing, and she tilted her head slightly. Medial was the only country on the continent where the position of prime minister was hereditary. Generation after generation of kings had had a prime minister to assist them, but that didn’t mean they were relied on to provide an heir. By law, prime ministers were forbidden from marrying or having children of their own. Although the position was technically hereditary, in reality, the prime minister would adopt a promising child and educate them, maintaining non-emotional ties that spanned generations. Shiron, the current prime minister, felt no special sense of affection toward his father. Naturally, he was thankful that the man had recognized his talent and given him a proper education, but that was just gratitude—not the kind of sentiment you might hold for a biological parent. Until recently, Shiron had respected his father for serving as an excellent prime minister for over forty years. However, his respect had been crushed when he’d learned about the existence of that. One of the emotions he’d started to experience from that day on was disappointment. Shiron was disappointed by the fact that his father—a man who had a deep knowledge of history and understood other nations like the back of his hand—had been relying on that. Another emotion that arose was doubt. He couldn’t believe that something like that could even exist. These conflicting emotions occupied his mind, fluctuating in proportion depending on the moment. Then, about a year and a half earlier, that had been stolen from their estate, and Shiron’s feelings toward his father were set in stone. Its loss left Shiron’s father deranged with anger, and he started to vent his desperation to Shiron on a daily basis. “We’re done for,” he’d say, his cool-headed, thoughtful nature that had earned him his reputation as a great prime minister gone. He would wander the estate, muttering deliriously to himself, and at times, Shiron even found himself wishing his father would just hurry up and die. Shiron felt disgusted with himself every time he noticed himself feeling that way. However, as these gloomy days dragged on, he found a clue regarding the unexpected whereabouts of that. On the second day of her stay in Medial, Shizuku found herself using her educational materials to teach the children under the watchful eyes of the royal mages and scholars. That said, since her pupils were so young, it just looked like she was playing. When Shizuku lined up several small animal figurines in front of the children, one of the mages quietly sneered and said, “A child playing with other children.” Shizuku, however, refused to react to this remark. If it looked like she was playing, that was perfect. The children wouldn’t learn much at all if she didn’t attract their interest. “Okay, do you know what this is?” she asked. “A rabbit?” one of the children said hesitantly. “That’s right. Rabbit. Can you say that for me?” The children all repeated “Rabbit!” in unison. Shizuku placed the rabbit on her hand and moved it around, making it look as though it was alive. The children’s eyes were instantly drawn toward the figurine, and their tiny hands reached out to touch it. Shizuku laughed as she put the rabbit back. Then she picked up another figurine. She got the kids’ attention, made them say the animals’ names, played around with the figurine a bit, then moved on to the next one. Occasionally, she’d come back to one she’d already used. After Shizuku patiently repeated this process for an hour, all of the children were able to name the twenty different animals. Shizuku ended up spending three hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon—interspersed with breaks—showcasing her work and answering questions. Once she was done, she collapsed onto the bed, understandably drained. The fatigue of working under pressure in an unfamiliar place washed over her like a wave. The scholars of Medial seemed curious and interested in her methods, but it appeared that not all of the mages were as accepting. Judging by their expressions and remarks, it was obvious they saw Shizuku’s approach as nothing more than a shallow, short-term solution. Yet she just calmly ignored them. No matter what people said, she didn’t think she was in the wrong. After all, she was acting as a representative of Farsas. If she came across as servile, it would make Lars angry and Leuticia would end up having to apologize to her. It was best to act confident. Still, the stress was starting to get to her. Shizuku lethargically sat up and gazed out the window, her eyes half-closed. “Ugh… I need to let off some steam,” she murmured. “Why not go outside and let off some body heat, instead?” Erik said unenthusiastically. “If I did that, I might lose all my body heat.” The man smiled a little, but he didn’t look up from his book. Shizuku got up and walked over to the window. There, she peered down at the snow-covered courtyard. “…You could build an igloo out there,” she remarked. “An igloo? Is that a kind of fortress?” “Oh, good guess!” The courtyard was piled high with snow. It looked as though no one had stepped foot in it for a long time. After thinking to herself for a moment, Shizuku put her arms through the sleeves of the coat she’d taken off. She smiled and waved at the man as she headed for the door. “Okay, I’m gonna go play around a bit!” “Hang on.” Predictably, Erik brought her plans to a halt. The court ladies of Medial had been puzzled when Shizuku asked to borrow winter clothing, but they were still kind enough to lend her a thick outfit and gloves. Erik, dressed in his usual mage’s uniform, looked at Shizuku in dismay. She was bundled up like a snowman. “Sometimes I just can’t grasp how your mind works.” “But we never get this much snow where I come from. What’s wrong with having a little fun?” With a gloved hand, she patted the head of the child standing next to her. The person in charge had happily agreed when Shizuku asked if she could take the kids outside. The other adults all seemed to have their hands full, so it worked out perfectly. After that, they’d all made their way to the courtyard. “Okay, let’s play!” Shizuku called out to the children. She began building a mound using a snow shovel. Large and concave like a spoon, the shovel was on the heavy side, but the snow was easy to dig in since it wasn’t packed down yet. As Shizuku’s mound of snow grew bigger, the children attempted to climb it, but ended up slipping down its smooth, semicircular surface. “I’m going to make a hole in it. Just give me a moment.” It was smaller than a typical igloo, but since she was the only person working on it, that was the best she could manage. Erik was standing in the corridor facing the courtyard, still reading his book, with Mea by his side in her girl form. Shizuku didn’t want to get so carried away that it gave her muscle pain. She crouched down and started digging a tunnel into the side of the mound, then carefully began scraping out the snow, keeping an eye on the children around her. When Shizuku was that absorbed in something, she looked like a slightly overgrown child. Erik, who’d simply put up a protective barrier and was watching the fun from the sidelines, looked up from his book and gave a wry smile. “She really can’t sit still, can she?” “That’s just the way my master is,” replied Mea. “Maybe you’re right.” Shizuku had started making small snowmen out of the snow she’d scooped out, putting them in a row in front of the children. At this rate, she was never going to finish carving out the hole. Erik finally decided to lend a hand and closed the book he had been reading—but just as he went to stride across the courtyard, he sensed someone’s presence and turned around. Shiron was standing behind him, holding some documents under his arm. It wasn’t obvious if he’d just happened to be passing by, or if he’d come over on purpose, but his gaze was clearly fixed on Shizuku. “What exactly is she doing?” he asked, still staring at her. “She’s playing,” said Erik. If Shizuku had heard his frank response, she probably would have said, “Couldn’t you have phrased that better?” Erik, however, had no intention of sugarcoating things. Shiron, the young prime minister of Medial, looked perplexed. “Please be careful. It will be dark soon, and there have been reports of demonic spirits appearing in this area lately.” Medial’s capital was located near the northwestern highlands of the large kingdom. The mountains blocked out the sun, making the nights longer. Due to its location, demonic spirits from the northwestern part of the continent would occasionally make an appearance there. Erik simply said, “Understood,” and watched Shiron walk away. He couldn’t really tell what the prime minister was thinking. It was probably fair to label him as suspicious, but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. “Every castle has its share of unique characters, doesn’t it?” remarked Erik. After leaving his book with Mea, he took the snow shovel from Shizuku. She was clearly having a hard time, so Erik started expanding the opening for her. Fifteen minutes later, the small igloo was complete. “M-my arms are trembling…” Having said goodbye to Erik and returned to her own room, Shizuku hung her head dejectedly, her arms drained of all their strength. She hadn’t intended to overexert herself, but nearly two hours of shoveling had taken its toll on her body. She tried to write in her diary but soon realized that her hand wasn’t steady enough, so she gave up and lay down. “I knew it’d be unbearably cold, but it’s actually pretty fun being in a snowy country. I imagine living here would be tough, though,” she said to Mea, who was tidying up. “I suppose the summers would be pleasantly cool,” the young girl replied. “A place to escape the sweltering heat, huh? Farsas is way too hot.” Just remembering the scorching heat of summer in Farsas a few months earlier made Shizuku feel drained. She raised her tired arms straight up into the air and let them sway back and forth. Shizuku was just considering taking a bath and going to bed when she heard a knock at the door, so she hurriedly threw on her jacket and went to open it. “Yes, who’s there?” The court lady standing at the door gave her a deep bow. “By the order of the prime minister, you have been invited to a nighttime tea gathering.” “Like, drinking tea at night?” “You will enjoy a diverting conversation as you gaze at the snow and the moon. Your companion has also been invited.” “Oh, how elegant. I’ll come right now.” If Erik was also going to be there, there shouldn’t be any problems. Shizuku turned around and beckoned Mea over, who was deep inside the room and had transformed into her small green bird form. She fluttered over to perch on Shizuku’s shoulder, and with that, the two of them began making their way down the castle’s hallways, following the court lady. The castle hallways were fully submerged in the darkness of the night, illuminated by the light reflecting off the snow outside the windows. The intricate window frames created shadows on the floor like paper cutouts, and Shizuku found herself avoiding them as she walked, choosing only to step on the areas where the light fell. Soon after, the court lady guided her into a small hall on the third floor. Shiron was already waiting inside, but there was no sign of Erik. “Please, take a seat,” Shiron said with a serene smile. “Your companion will be here soon.” “Okay… Uh, where’s everybody else?” Shizuku asked, remaining standing. Shiron was the only other person in the room. “They’ll be here momentarily,” the young prime minister said, still smiling. “In that case, I’ll wait in the corridor until they arrive,” replied Shizuku. She felt slightly unsettled. Getting entangled in the power struggles surrounding the throne in Kisk had sharpened her instincts. Shiron’s expression didn’t change. He simply poured some tea into his cup from a nearby pot. “Please, don’t be like that,” he urged her. “I have some questions for you.” “Other than what we talked about earlier today?” “Yes. That story in that picture book—where did you learn it?” “The picture book?” Why was he bringing that up now? Shizuku had created six picture books so far. Three of them were adaptations of fairy tales from her original world, two of them were based on stories from this world, and the last one focused on the names of animals. “Sorry, which picture book are you talking about?” “I see right through you,” Shiron spat contemptuously. “Don’t play dumb. That story…is one nobody else is supposed to know. But you know it, don’t you? Where is the item that was stolen from my estate a year and a half ago?” “Something was stolen?” None of this rang any bells, but even so, Shizuku tried to respond to Shiron’s interrogation honestly. “I don’t know which of the picture books I’ve drawn you’re taking issue with…but I know nothing about any stolen items. Don’t you think you might be mistaken?” As Shizuku spoke, she remembered what her last picture book was about. It was the tale of a poor blind girl. The true story it was based on left many questions unanswered, so Shizuku had removed the mystery from it to make the story suitable for children. In Shizuku’s version, the honest young girl was saved by her good nature. If this was a story that nobody was supposed to know about, where had Shizuku learned it? No matter how hard she tried to remember, she wasn’t sure. Shiron’s gaze was knifelike. “There’s no way I’m mistaken. Listen—I’m not accusing you of stealing anything. I just want a lead on it. No matter how much of a ruckus my father made, we weren’t able to search for that item in public.” What exactly was “that item”? Shiron sounded completely serious, but Shizuku had no idea what he was talking about. The prime minister ignored her confusion and continued to speak. “I don’t plan on using it myself. I’m even starting to doubt whether it’s real—but if we don’t get it back, I’m going to be tormented by my father’s ramblings forever. That’s why I’m asking you: Where did you hear that story?” “Where…?” Why did she possess knowledge that had no traceable source? Shizuku didn’t know what to say, but Shiron assumed she was just trying to dodge the question. He lowered his voice. “I won’t let you leave until you tell me.” “Huh?” Shizuku suddenly felt something push against her back. She stumbled, almost falling over, and heard the door close behind her. Turning around, she saw the court lady standing in front of it, blocking her exit. Shizuku frowned and looked back at Shiron. “This kind of behavior will harm diplomatic relations,” she warned him. “I don’t plan on hurting you, as long as you tell me what I want to know.” “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. What are you looking for?” “…It’s an item that contains hidden historical records.” “Huh?” Shizuku knew what he was referring to. She felt slightly dizzy, but it was so subtle she might have been imagining it. She stared into the man’s gray eyes. “Do you mean…?” The red book that mysterious woman had in her possession. Was he talking about that tome, which contained forbidden spells and chronicled the royal family’s major secrets? Seeing he’d finally garnered a reaction from Shizuku, Shiron’s expression changed, and his tone grew firmer. “Do you remember it now?!” “I think so… I’m looking for it, too. A certain woman has it, and she was last spotted in Medial—” At that moment, the castle they were in shook violently. They heard a deafening boom from outside. Shizuku didn’t know what had caused it. Shiron didn’t seem to know, either. Having almost toppled over, he regained his footing and rushed to the windowsill. The glass had frosted over, and Shiron opened the window to look out at the night sky. “What’s that…?” Even from where she was standing, Shizuku could see a swarm of creatures flying in the dark sky. They looked like birds, but much bigger… “Dragons?” “N-no. They’re…demons.” “Demons?!” Shizuku’s discordant exclamation was interrupted by a distant scream. The castle was under attack by demons. Shizuku could hear something collapse. In the blink of an eye, the calm night had descended into chaos. Shizuku swiftly spun around and thrust aside the court lady blocking her path. She placed a hand on the door—but at that very moment, she heard the window behind her shatter. Shiron’s scream intermingled with a strained, high-pitched cry. Shizuku automatically looked behind her, and her gaze landed on the strange figure there. “…You’ve got to be kidding.” Those sharp talons were presumably what it had used to kick in the wall and the window. It most closely resembled a bird, yet it was around a meter tall. Its body was covered in black and brown feathers, and one of its three gawking eyes was fixed on Shizuku. Shiron, who’d fallen over onto his backside at the demonic spirit’s feet, looked up at the ominous creature, his breaths coming in strained gasps. “H-help me…” His plea didn’t inspire any sympathy in Shizuku. Still, after she’d thrown open the door she was touching, she turned back around to face the demonic spirit. The bird on her shoulder chirped. “Mea. I want to help the man sitting there and meet up with Erik. Do you think we can manage both?” Hearing her master’s question, the little bird changed form. A green-haired girl now stood in front of Shizuku. “Please don’t go anywhere, Master,” she said. “I’ll push it back.” As soon as the words out of Mea’s mouth, the giant body of the demonic spirit was flung outside. Shizuku seized the opportunity to rush over to Shiron and grab him by the arm. “We have to run! Now!” “R-right…” Shiron somehow managed to get to his feet, and Shizuku pulled him along, heading for the hallway. The court lady was nowhere to be seen. She must have run away or gone to call for help. Shiron himself had said that there were very few people in the castle accustomed to fighting demonic spirits. If the distant shouts and screams were anything to go by, chaos was unfolding everywhere. “Erik’s room is—” The moment Shizuku stepped out into the hallway, she came to a halt, startled. A monstrous black bird, just like the one she’d seen earlier, was blocking their path. Under its claws lay the court lady, motionless on the floor. A pool of blood had spread out beneath her body. “…Uh.” “Master, it’s too late. She’s gone.” Mea was just pointing out the facts, and Shizuku suppressed the scream rising in her throat. She instantly noticed a large shadow on the floor below her and instinctively jumped back, just as the window in the hallway shattered. A third monstrous bird had appeared, glaring at them with its bulging eyes. “Get down!” Mea shouted. Shizuku dropped to the floor, and a split-second later, a gust of wind surged down the hallway. The wind had likely been unleashed by the monstrous bird. It shattered window after window of thick glass, and as the shards rained down over her head, Shizuku felt a chill run down her spine. When she glanced up, she saw the bird trying to peck Shiron, who’d fallen to the floor. “Mea!” The body of the demon was flung down the hallway. Its giant form slammed into the window, destroying the wall around it, and it fell outside. But it wasn’t long before another monstrous bird entered through the gap. And another giant beak emerged from the door to the room they’d just left. “Ugh, we’re in trouble here.” Shizuku had said that she didn’t really know what a demonic spirit was, but she’d never imagined ending up in a situation like this. There were demons in front of her and behind her. She could have had Mea get rid of the birds and bulldozed her way through, but from what she could see out the window, there weren’t just one or two shadows flying in the sky. Shiron, who’d been dragging himself along the floor, looked up. His eyes found Shizuku. “What should we do…?” he asked, his voice trembling. “You must know, right?” “Not really…” Shizuku wasn’t a mage, and she’d never encountered a demonic spirit before. While she was puzzling it out, the giant birds on either side of her were inching closer. So she made up her mind. “Let’s keep going. We need to force our way ahead.” The castle was unfamiliar to her, but she did remember the corridors she’d been down. It was a fair distance away, but she was pretty confident she knew which direction Erik’s room was in. Once she was reunited with him, they could escape using a transportation ring. Mea nodded when she heard Shizuku’s plan, then positioned herself in front. “Understood. Tell me when you want to stop.” “I’ll do my best to keep up. Let’s run to Erik’s room.” Hearing this, Shiron hurriedly stood up. Shizuku nodded, and Mea lifted her hand toward the monstrous bird in front of her. “Let’s go.” At the young girl’s words, the three of them set out at a run. The birds blocking the hallways were knocked sideways by an invisible hand and tumbled through the gaps in the walls, letting Shizuku and her two companions race past them. The wind blowing in through the gaps was cold enough to freeze her breath, but Shizuku couldn’t let that bother her. She sprinted down the stone hallways, making sure she didn’t get separated from Mea, who kept exterminating the demonic spirits that appeared before her. Suddenly, they heard Shiron’s scream echo from behind. Shizuku looked over her shoulder. It looked like Shiron had tripped and was staggering precariously, falling toward a gap in the wall. “Watch out!” Before giving it any thought, Shizuku turned around and reached out to grab him. Mea realized something was amiss and looked over her shoulder. At that moment, the stone floor that the three of them were standing on collapsed with a loud crash. Erik felt the ground shake a little. He looked up from his book, confused. Had there been an avalanche nearby or something? He looked at the book in his hand. The mysterious, untitled tome had far more pages than it seemed at first glance. He’d been reading it alongside the thesis, but decided to pause to check on what was happening. The very next moment, however, there was a forceful knock at the door. Erik opened it without responding, to reveal a pale-faced court lady standing there. “W-we’re in trouble. Demonic spirits…” “Demonic spirits?” Had the recent spate of demon attacks in the northwest of the continent finally reached the castle? Erik ran out of the room. First, he needed to make sure Shizuku was safe. He headed to her room, which was just around the corner. “Shizuku!” The door was unlocked. Erik peered inside, but there was nobody there. There was no sign of the little green bird, either, although her belongings had been left behind. Erik called Shizuku’s name again, but there was no response, so he went back out into the corridor. Another rumble shook the castle, followed by the sound of something heavy collapsing. Distant screams echoed through the halls. At that moment, the guards from Farsas came rushing toward him. “Sir Erik! Demonic spirits are attacking the castle! What should we do?!” This was Medial Castle. Erik and his companions were just guests, so it was Medial’s responsibility to repel the attack. If they carelessly intervened, Medial might expect further assistance at some point in the future, which would prove bothersome for Farsas. As such, the safest option was to teleport back to Farsas. However… “We’ll join in the defensive effort. Shizuku’s missing. She might have gotten caught up in some sort of trouble, so prioritize searching for her.” “Yes, sir!” The most important thing was to make sure Shizuku was safe. That was the very reason Erik had started working for Farsas in the first place. Erik cast a protective barrier over himself and his guards, and they hurried down the drafty corridor. Yet an hour later, after the demonic spirit attack had been repelled, there was still no sign of Shizuku or Mea. Shizuku had vanished without a trace in the castle of a foreign land. The unforeseen demon attack left over thirty people dead, injured, or missing in Medial Castle. Much of the building was destroyed, and the bloody scenes where the victims had met their end in the hallways, on the castle walls, and in the outer garden were horrifying to behold. Prime Minister Shiron was among the wounded, having been caught up in the destruction of the castle. He’d fallen down into the outer garden and managed to survive due to the piled-up snow that softened his landing. “It was due to our inadequate defenses that your companion has gone missing. We are deeply sorry for that. She was likely abducted by the demons. We’re investigating the matter to find any potential witnesses, but so far, nothing…” Listening to Shiron’s apology and report on the situation, Erik fell silent for a short while. Having been the target of an unexpected attack, Medial Castle had been thrown into a terrible state of confusion—yet not one person had admitted to seeing Shizuku while it was unfolding. Medial was justifying that by saying she’d been kidnapped by the demons. When Erik replied, there was no emotion in his voice. “No. I’m the one who was assigned as her escort. I failed to fulfill my duty.” If Shizuku’s whereabouts were unknown, then he was the one who was accountable. If Erik had foreseen this, he would have carved protective sigils into the floor to strengthen the barrier—even if they were in another country’s castle. That said, there was something else that didn’t sit right with him. Shizuku’s assistant demon was always with her, but why had she also disappeared? There was no way the demons would kidnap one of their own. And if Mea had died, Erik would’ve been able to tell, as his name was also on her contract. Yet Mea had vanished along with Shizuku. Erik used magic to search for her, but it didn’t detect anything inside the castle. With a blank look on his face, he directed his analytical gaze toward Shiron. “Do you know where the surviving demons fled?” “West, most likely. They tend to show up in towns near the border.” “Thank you. Would you mind if we inspected the castle first?” This swift request made Shiron’s expression tense up. Erik was essentially accusing Medial of concealing information. The young prime minister stared daggers at Erik, but the mage simply met his stare, unperturbed. They glared at each other for only a few seconds. Shiron looked away and responded to Erik’s request in a polite tone. “That shouldn’t be an issue. Do as you please. However, please refrain from making such statements again once you are satisfied with your investigation. I am terribly sorry about what has happened, but my country intends on building a longstanding relationship with yours.” Shiron bowed and left the room. Erik watched him with an icy look in his eyes. Once he was alone again, he went back to his room. He wanted to get in touch with Farsas before commencing his search of the castle. “What a disaster,” replied Leuticia, sounding appalled. Erik had just summarized what had happened at the castle. The magic implement that allowed him to communicate remotely via audio didn’t have a video feature. Despite this, it was easy for him to imagine the princess’s expression. She continued speaking, her dismay evident in her voice. “I sent you with her so there wouldn’t be any trouble. Honestly, you two need to stay in the same room.” “We’ve tried to do that as much as possible. Still, this is my fault.” Unsurprisingly, Erik hadn’t expected a country’s castle to be subjected to such a devastating demon attack. It never could have happened in Farsas, where they had defensive wards surrounding the entire castle city. Leuticia let out a soft sigh. “So? Do you think Medial had nothing to do with it?” “No. Many aspects of the situation are still uncertain. Shizuku’s room was untouched. If she left the room of her own accord, she must’ve had a good reason to do so. Yet there are no witnesses at all, which is also clearly suspicious. And if it is true that nobody saw her, it’s odd that their conclusion is that she was kidnapped by a demon.” “Well, yes. But what could be Medial’s goal?” “A simplistic answer would be that they’re trying to avoid having to take responsibility. Something happened to a guest they invited from Farsas, and they don’t want to be interrogated about their mistake. That’s why they’re feigning ignorance.” “But they already admitted their defenses were lacking.” Medial might have wanted to deny playing a role in Shizuku’s disappearance, but if Farsas criticized the country for not protecting their guest, there was no way for them to evade responsibility. In that case, they’d be better off asserting that Shizuku had gone missing as a consequence of her own actions. What other motive could Medial have? Erik glanced at the book in front of him. It had a black cover on it, but it was the interlopers’ cursed artifact he’d taken from Shizuku. After her disappearance, he’d checked the final section of the book, but he hadn’t found what he was looking for. Erik thought to himself for a moment, then recalled his conversation with Shiron. “…Maybe they’re pretending Shizuku was kidnapped to encourage Farsas to dispatch troops to take care of the demons.” “That’s ridiculous.” Shizuku was, in a sense, an irreplaceable asset, but Farsas would never mobilize an army for her alone. Lars had chief authority over the military. Nobody who knew what the Farsasian king was like would come up with such a stupid plan. However, even if they couldn’t get the army to mobilize, there was still a possibility that individuals would take action. Erik, one of the best mages on the continent, and Leuticia, a member of Farsas’s royal family, were two people who seemed likely to help. If Medial had come to this conclusion after seeing Erik protect Shizuku from a careful distance over the past two days, then his efforts had worked against him. Erik flicked the pen lying next to the magic implement he was communicating through. It fell off the desk, but he didn’t make any attempt to pick it up. “Have you searched the castle to find out whether or not she’s really there?” Leuticia asked. “Not yet. But they’ve told us we can go ahead and look, so if they are hiding her somewhere, she’s probably not somewhere she’ll be easily found.” “That, or she actually was kidnapped by a demonic spirit.” That was the biggest issue. It was true that there had been a demonic spirit attack. And what if she’d met an even more tragic end? “…No.” It was too early to consider that possibility. They needed to work on the premise that Shizuku was still alive. That said, if she was actually missing, kidnapped by a demon, there wasn’t a moment to spare. Erik started recalling all the towns in the west of Medial that were equipped with teleportation rings. The voice of the princess resonated through the magic implement as she asked Erik for his judgment on where Shizuku had gone and what he thought was right. “What do you want to do, Erik?” There was no time for dilly-dallying. He was going to narrow down the possibilities, starting by eliminating the most dangerous one first. As soon as he heard Leuticia’s acknowledgement, Erik left the room hoping to use the teleportation ring, with only the black-covered book in hand. When Shiron returned to his office, he summoned his most trusted soldier. “I wonder if this issue regarding that girl will work out okay,” he asked in a low voice. “I’m confident that it will,” replied the soldier. “We dumped her in a section of the forest that’s off limits. It’s near the castle, but nobody will set foot in it until the snow has melted.” “Good work.” Even if someone were to find her, the location made it easy for them to claim she’d run away from the demonic spirit by herself and gotten lost in the woods. Shiron sensed what felt like a throbbing pain in his side, where his wound was supposed to have been healed, and he covered it with his hand. When the three of them had fallen through the collapsed floor, they’d ended up in the castle’s outer garden. Shiron must have lost consciousness for a while. When he finally sat up, he had a horrendous pain in his side. It seemed like he’d come down hard on something when he fell. Looking around, he saw Shizuku lying a short distance away. There was a chance she hadn’t passed out. Several dead demonic spirits were on the ground around her. But in the middle of them all, Shizuku hugged her chest as if trying to protect something, unconscious. This is bad, Shiron thought to himself. If Farsas discovered what had happened, he’d lose his position. He’d been the one to separate her from her chaperone and interrogate her, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable to blame him for what had occurred. Shiron surveyed his surroundings, but luckily, none of her guards had arrived. No demonic spirits were nearby, either. His soldiers stuck their heads through the hole in the third floor, likely having come to look for them. “Prime Minister Shiron, you’re alive!” one of them exclaimed. “Don’t make too much noise. Hurry down here. There’s something you need to do.” Shiron pointed at Shizuku. “Dump her somewhere nobody will find her.” The castle was surrounded by nothing but forests and cliffs. There were plenty of places that even the nation’s citizens were forbidden from entering and, better still, it’d be almost impossible for Farsas’s citizens to initiate a search. It was all over now. It hurt that Shiron still didn’t know the whereabouts of “that item,” but not even the person who’d made those picture books knew where to find it. The only information he’d gleaned was that it was in the possession of a woman who’d last been spotted in Medial. It felt like he was clutching at straws, but he’d half given up anyway. At least he hadn’t lost his standing. Reminding himself of that, Shiron set about dealing with the aftermath. And all the while, he turned a blind eye to the ever-increasing demonic spirit appearances in the northwest and the fact that the attacks had finally reached their castle. Belb, located in the northwestern corner of Medial, was a town built on mountainous terrain. Apparently, it was impossible to reach by foot or on horseback during the winter season, but to make up for this, the town had plenty of teleportation rings linking it to other parts of the country. This turned Belb into a key hub that many traders and explorers passed through. Cold air flowed down from the northern highlands. Only the main street had been properly cleared of snow, likely due to the number of people that used it, while the snowdrift piled up on the roofs and alleyways had frozen solid and wouldn’t thaw until spring. The travelers on the street were bundled up in thick winter clothes. If you walked around outside without any extra layers, you’d be chilled to the bone in no time, and maybe even suffer lasting consequences. Despite this, Erik was strolling along with nothing more than a cloak imbued with warming magic over his usual mage uniform. After meeting up with the soldiers who’d come with him from Farsas, Erik received a brief situation update on the demonic spirit attacks in the western part of Medial. “I knew it; they’re more frequent than what we’ve seen in Farsas. Are there any cases of people being kidnapped?” “Yes, but only women. A large number of them have been taken away. Numerous cases like those in Farsas, where the women’s souls have been extracted from their bodies, have also been confirmed.” “Oh. They have, huh?” They’d found out that it was difficult to extract Shizuku’s soul during the incident a few days ago, but that didn’t mean it was impossible. Erik stroked his chin pensively, then asked the most important question. “Do we know where to find the demons’ headquarters?” “Not for certain. However…when the demons first started appearing, mercenaries were hired and large-scale extermination squads were assembled. While the extermination efforts ended in failure, the few surviving fighters claimed there was a castle in the mountains.” “A castle?” That sounded odd. There were no castles or castle remains in the area aside from Medial Castle itself. Most crucially, the mountainous region that lay further to the west was a stateless, barren area. You could find small nations if you traveled west or north to the coast, but their borders didn’t touch Medial’s. They were countries “beyond the void.” After hearing the soldiers tell him about a few taverns and lodges, Erik started making his way toward one of them. That was when he ran into someone unexpected. “Oh. You’re alive, then.” This nonchalant comment was the first thing Erik heard upon entering the tavern. Unsurprisingly, he was taken aback. Once his eyes adjusted to his dim surroundings and he knew who he was dealing with, he responded. “It’s you, huh? I didn’t know you survived.” “I have you to thank for that.” He’d only met the person once, but there was no way he’d forget the mercenary who’d attacked Candela Castle during the forbidden curse incident, taking Shizuku along with him. The tall, muscular man—Tarkis—sat there grinning, bottle in hand. He glanced up at Erik, who’d remained standing. “How’s Shizuku? I’m sure she’s fine, right?” Shizuku and the man didn’t know what had become of one another after going their separate ways at Candela Castle. Yet in the same way that Shizuku thought Tarkis must have escaped unharmed, Tarkis seemed to presume the same about Shizuku. Erik suppressed his emotions and replied to this sarcastic question by saying, “She was until yesterday.” “Yesterday? What happened?” “She’s gone missing. That’s why I’m gathering intel.” This succinct but ominous-sounding response made Tarkis scowl. Erik sat down opposite him and immediately got to the crux of the matter. “I want you to tell me everything you know about demons.” It may have been an unfamiliar foreign castle, but they couldn’t leave any stone unturned. Harve, the mage, and Yura, the military officer, had been dispatched to Medial under Leuticia’s orders. They had been conducting a search of the vast castle, giving instructions to their respective subordinates as they did. It had taken them about half a day to inspect all the conspicuous areas of the castle, but they still couldn’t find Shizuku. Evading the suspicious glares of the people from Medial, they reconvened in a small meeting room to exchange information. “How did your search go?” Harve asked as he brewed some tea. “It was useless,” replied Yura. “Honesty, this castle is a real maze, and if she’s outside the castle, we’re never going to find her.” “I feel the same way. The king of Medial seems genuinely clueless, too…” Before he traveled west, Erik had left a message saying that the prime minister was suspicious, but there wasn’t any decisive evidence against him. Harve took a sip of his tea and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe she really is in the west. That’d be terrible.” “It’s a possibility, but this castle is suspicious.” “Huh? It is?” Seeing Harve’s shocked expression, Yura nodded and started sharing the findings of the investigation she’d conducted alongside her search. “There’s one spot where the walls and hallway were destroyed in the attack yesterday, but judging by the state of the debris, both were wrecked from the inside—using magic. And yet, none of Medial’s royal mages fought in that area. There are very few of them, so we were able to verify this from their statements.” “Are you suggesting that Shizuku’s assistant demon was fighting?” “It’s a strong possibility. It’s strange that there are no eyewitness accounts at all, though. There were signs of combat in the outer garden right outside the hallway in question, and several sets of footprints had been left behind. Not only that, but a whole lot of blood had seeped into the snow.” “Do you think the people who witnessed the conflict were killed?” A silence fell between them. If Shizuku had been kidnapped during such a fierce fight, it was unlikely that she was safe. However, Yura was considering a more realistic possibility. “I think the witnesses were silenced. Several individuals were acting suspiciously.” “If that’s the case, then Medial knows something about Shizuku and is hiding it.” “I don’t know why they’d do that, though,” Yura said offhandedly. She poured some tea into a new cup and took a sip. She didn’t even try to force a smile, and deep creases had formed across her brow. The plot was thickening. If Medial was involved in Shizuku’s disappearance, it was going to be a tough search. It might not be as big as Farsas, but Medial was still a large country. If Shizuku was outside the castle, it wouldn’t be easy to track her down. “Dammit… Why her, of all people?” “They specifically asked for Shizuku by name, right? At the request of the prime minister. If all they wanted to know was how she taught language, would they really ask for her by name? You’d usually request a magical researcher if you wanted to speak to someone from Farsas.” Yura’s misgivings made Harve’s eyes widen. Why had they asked for Shizuku? It was a question that neither of them had given any thought to before. They both fell silent for a moment, then reported in to Leuticia as planned, who ordered them to leave Medial. “That’s what they told me, Lars.” “Doesn’t it seem like our country’s being mocked lately? Who’s to blame for this?” “You, I believe.” “Well, whatever. If Farsas doesn’t scare them, I’ll send someone even more frightening.” So…cold. That was the first thing Shizuku felt as she opened her eyes slightly. She couldn’t see a thing. It was cold. She was cold. She let out a shallow breath. Her body hurt. She was freezing. Half-conscious, she tried to move her hand, but it wouldn’t do what she wanted it to, as if it was restrained. She dragged herself out of her hazy state of consciousness and raised a heavy arm. After what felt like an eternity, she brushed away the snow that had fallen on her face with her free hand. “…Where am I?” The sky was almost light, but Shizuku’s surroundings were far from well lit. A thick cluster of trees stretched upward toward the heavens. Shizuku moved her face, which was almost numb, and she realized she was lying in the snow. Her body was soaked and frozen to the core—which was only to be expected, since she was half buried in the snow. Dazedly, Shizuku retraced her memories. “I… I was…” She’d fallen into the garden after being attacked by demonic spirits in Medial. Outside had been the ideal battleground for flying demonic spirits, but Shizuku had resisted with Mea by her side. The endless stream of enemies left her exhausted and seriously wounded, but she’d still continued to— “Ah! Mea…” Shizuku could hardly move her hands, but she managed to use them to feel around her chest. Her fingertips came into contact with the soft feathers of a small bird. Mea’s tiny body was ice-cold, but it twitched slightly at the touch of Shizuku’s fingers. “You’re…still alive…” Mea had been fighting alone, but once she started to reach her limit, Shizuku had ordered her to turn into a bird and shielded her in her chest. At that point, they’d tried to escape, but a monstrous bird had grabbed hold of her from behind. She couldn’t remember anything after that, so she figured she must have lost consciousness. “I need…to find Erik…” Her body was so cold it hardly even felt like it belonged to her anymore, but Shizuku forced it to move. She sat up and took a look around, only to realize that she was deep inside a forest with no clue as to where she was. That monstrous bird must have carried her there and left her behind. She had no idea which way would lead her back to the castle. But then again, was it even safe to go back there? She’d been separated from Prime Minister Shiron in the chaos, and he suspected her of being a thief. If she went back, she might be placed under house arrest. She couldn’t let that happen. Where could she find Erik? The castle was on top of a mountain, so if she went downhill, would she find herself in the town? Shizuku tried to stand up, but her legs were trapped beneath the snow. After thinking things through for a moment, she rummaged around for a handkerchief, took it out, and wrapped it around her right hand with its broken nails. Once she had dug out her legs with her hands, she finally managed to stand up. “Where am I…?” She looked around at the gently sloping ground. After deliberating over which way to go, she began to descend the hill. With every step Shizuku took, her feet got buried in the snow. Her strength was being drained from her. She was so tired, she just wanted to go to sleep. Still, she had no choice but to keep walking. Her entire body was in pain, but she urged it to keep going. “B-but it’s…so cold…” The snow captured her feet as she continued trudging deeper into the dark forest. She was extremely tired. She staggered from side to side, feeling like she was about to collapse at any moment. “So…tired…” Her feet were sinking into the snow. Everything was hurting. She was finding it hard to think. She continued making her way through the snowy forest and down to the foot of the mountain, albeit somewhat unsteadily. Her back, meanwhile, was soaked with bright red blood. A towering castle loomed over the dark land. In one of its rooms, a woman closed her eyes. The icy cold that permeated the outside world and the miasma that ate away at people’s minds couldn’t get inside. Enclosed by gray stone walls, the room felt like it existed beyond the bounds of reality. Sitting in a chair, the woman opened her eyes and glanced out of the window. Her silver hair shone so brightly that it put the snow to shame, and her face, as unchanging as if it had been carved from stone, exuded a sense of calm. She didn’t say very much, especially when she was with him. She simply lay her pale fingers atop the red book that had changed her life, while Elzard looked at it as if it were totally alien. “I’m starting tomorrow, Aviella,” he said. The two of them were the only people who knew what this statement meant. She smiled at him as though he were a child. “So impatient. I thought high-ranking demons were more lenient with time.” A human like Aviella and a conceptual being like the demon had significantly different lifespans. “Do as you please,” said Aviella. “There will always be someone eager to challenge you.” “Will any of them amuse me, though?” That was the reason he was obeying her. She let out a small, melodic sigh. The most powerful of all high-ranking demons was a group called the Twelve Kings, and among them was a heretic who was fascinated with humans. It was something all Elzard’s kind were aware of. Usually, demons saw humans as little more than dirt. It was absurd for a demon to take an interest in them. The heretic, however, was the sole exception. For nearly a thousand human years, he’d descended to the human realm to involve himself with them. He’d forced his way into places where the powerful gathered and had fun controlling minds and causing disputes. He’d been acting on meaningless impulses. It was a childish game gone too far. But before he knew it, he’d stopped just playing around. In the end, the man fell in love with a powerless human. He protected her and supported her, and after she passed away, he left the human realm. Ever since her death, he’d shut himself inside his own territory, refusing to show his face in front of his fellow demons. Elzard couldn’t understand why someone so powerful had been so mesmerized by humans. He couldn’t see the point. It did make him a little curious, though. He was intrigued by the unstable, ever-changing nature of the human realm, which was a far cry from the consistency of his own. He was also curious about the humans who spent their lives creeping around inside it and the emotions that developed while living among them. That was why he’d responded to the woman’s summoning. He’d lent her his power as they traveled the world and built the castle together. It had only taken a decade or so. He still didn’t know what was so interesting about humans. “Humans are so beautiful, Elzard.” She’d often say this to him with a smile on her face, but he didn’t agree. Humans were weak, stupid, and ugly. He was happy to keep a human company for a little while longer, though. He didn’t understand the things she said, but her actions were fascinating. Before long, the humans would be thrown into a panic, and a huge commotion would spread across the continent. It would be like a little festival. Aviella, the witch who was bringing that turmoil to the continent, spoke to Elzard in a remonstrative tone. “Elzard. If something no longer exists, does that mean it never did? If it is forgotten, does it cease to be? When humans focus solely on the peace of the present, what becomes of the corpses buried beneath that tranquility? If they turn a blind eye to the countless things that could happen and retreat into their tiny little worlds, then they’re nothing more than lumps of mud lacking the spirit that makes them human.” “Weren’t they always lumps of mud, though?” responded Elzard. “They’re weak, fragile garbage.” The corners of Aviella’s lips curved into a smile. Pride and affection appeared in her reddish eyes. Aviella looked at him that way whenever he pointed out the fragile nature of humanity, but Elzard could never understand why. But if he ever uncovered the reason behind it, he had a feeling it would fill in a few of the gaps of the burning curiosity inside him. When he heard that Shizuku had gone missing, Tarkis was eager to hear the details. He must have understood how urgent the situation was, because he agreed to tell Erik everything he’d learned during the two months he’d spent in Medial so far without demanding anything in return. Clutching the drink Erik had bought him as compensation, Tarkis noticed that the mage hadn’t even touched his own glass. “I feel bad drinking alone.” “It’s fine. Just hurry up and tell me what you know.” “Gimme a sec. It’s hard to talk about this sober. It was one of the worst jobs I’ve ever been involved in.” Tarkis was a brave mercenary with a wealth of experience, so the severity of this claim made Erik frown. There had been demon attacks in Farsas, too, and Erik had gotten the opportunity to fight in them himself, but the battles hadn’t been that horrific. The man in front of him, meanwhile, had a gloomy look on his face. He lowered his despondent gaze to his glass. “It was over two months ago now. I came to this country because I heard there were plenty of demon-hunting jobs going around. I don’t exactly specialize in that kind of work, but the woman I was traveling with preferred it over warfare. We found work almost immediately after arriving in the city. A woman was hiring a large number of mercenaries to lead in battle against the demons throughout the region.” “A woman? Was she from the castle or something?” “No. She wasn’t a lord or a member of the nobility, just a private citizen. She was a pretty impressive mage, though. She was opening teleportation gates all over the place, transporting the mercenaries around.” Shiron had mentioned that lots of mercenaries had been gathered to fight back against the demonic spirits when the attacks first began. Yet now, most of them were nowhere to be found. Tarkis had witnessed the bloodshed firsthand, and after seeing him, Erik had a rough idea of what that signified. He felt a heavy sense of gloom inside of him, but he didn’t let it drag him down. Sensing that Erik wanted him to continue, Tarkis set his glass down on the table. “After defending the town a number of times, we finally crossed the border and headed to the highlands to the west. Our boss guessed that the demons were coming from somewhere in that mountain range, and as it turned out, we encountered demonic spirits unlike anything we’d ever seen before.” “Were there many of them?” “Heaps, and all of them powerful. We fought them in a barren land surrounded by mountains, and most of us didn’t make it out alive. It was a horrific sight, even just thinking about it now. The battered corpses of countless humans and demons were piled up on top of one another. The bodies of women who’d been kidnapped from the city were mixed in among the dead, too. They’d started to decompose, so the stench was unbearable.” His eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. It was as though he could see something that nobody else could. He must have witnessed some truly horrifying things. Tarkis closed his eyes and smiled. “After that, those of us who survived retreated as quickly as we could, but a few people insisted on going back into combat. The woman who’d hired us was dead, so we all told them it was a bad idea. In the end, about ten people ignored us and went back to that barren land—but they returned almost immediately, their faces pale with fear.” “Because there was a castle there?” That was the thing Erik was most curious about. It wasn’t just a concern of his, but a serious suspicion—one he hoped Tarkis would deny. To his disappointment, however, Tarkis nodded without hesitation. “Oh, you know about that? Yeah, that’s right. A castle had appeared where, only a short time earlier, there’d been nothing. We went back to the town with the mercenaries who’d been scared away, but they refused to say anything else about it. Who was gonna believe that a castle just appeared out of nowhere?” There was a heavy sigh, but it was impossible to tell which of them it had come from. Erik pressed his fingers against his forehead and responded with bitterness in his voice. “I would’ve believed them. A high-ranking demon is able to do something like that.” “A high-ranking demon?!” During the Dark Age of war and betrayal that had once engulfed the entire continent, some people referred to high-ranking demons as gods. Tarkis’s big mouth fell open with shock. Erik didn’t have time to explain further. He gently snapped his fingers to get Tarkis’s attention, then asked the question that had been weighing on his mind. “Can I ask you something else? What kind of person hired you for that task? Do you know why she was trying to take on the demons all by herself?” Typically, mercenaries were paid upfront, in full. It would have cost a lot of money for one person to employ such a large team. Why had that woman gone to such lengths to exterminate the demonic spirits, instead of leaving the task to the state? How had she acquired intel about where their base was located? There were too many questions that Erik didn’t know enough to answer. Tarkis folded his arms and tilted his head. “Hmm. I dunno what her motive could have been. I never asked. She didn’t seem driven by revenge or a sense of duty—she always had this carefree air about her. She was a real beauty with silver hair, probably in her late twenties. Her eyes were…reddish brown, I think. Like I just said, she was a powerful mage. She was pretty strong, but she ended up disappearing in the chaos of battle. I reckon she probably got eaten alive, a young woman like that.” “What was her name?” “Aviella.” Something was stirring. A sense of foreboding rustled through the air, like waves lapping against the sand. It felt like a blustery night. Like darkness untouched by moonlight. There were plenty of women who looked like that. And yet, his thoughts whispered to him: “We’ve found her.” Erik picked up the book he’d set aside and placed it on the table. Stripping off its cover, he revealed the navy-blue binding underneath. “Did that woman have a book like this, but in red?” This question was tied to the very fabric of the continent. A mixture of fear and anticipation filled the air as Tarkis peered at the book. “…She did, now that you mention it. Leather-bound, with some embellishment but no title. I didn’t get a good look at it, though.” It was a book without a title, its navy-blue cover revealing nothing. There were no clues about its contents until you turned its pages. Despite this, the mysterious artifact granted immense knowledge to those who desired it. When Erik realized just how fraught the situation was, he covered his face with one hand and let out a sigh. After almost a minute of contemplation, he raised his head. “I want to go to that castle. Tell me where it is.” “Huh?! Are you out of your mind?” “I couldn’t be saner.” Tarkis gaped at Erik, who’d begun to spread out his map on the table at the same time he’d made his outrageous request. He began to suspect that Erik hadn’t believed his story about the two hundred mercenaries that had been killed, but one look into Erik’s blue eyes told him that wasn’t the case. Not only did the man fully comprehend the situation, but that was precisely why he’d made his declaration. Tarkis frowned in response. “Shizuku’s not there, is she?” he asked. “I don’t know. They’re saying she was taken by demons, but it’s unclear whether that’s true. That’s why we’ve split up the search, with me checking the most urgent places.” “Urgent… What if you’re wrong? You could die, you know.” “I’ll call for backup before it gets to that stage. I’ll be fine,” Erik said lightly. But it wasn’t that simple. Tarkis still had a bitter expression on his face as he raked his fingers through his hair, turning it into a mess. Then he let out a heavy sigh. “If she was kidnapped, it might already be too late.” “Maybe,” Erik conceded, “but if the woman you mentioned is involved, I doubt she would have killed her.” “Why not?” “Shizuku is valuable to the owner of that book.” Tarkis had no clue what Erik meant by that. Even Erik himself knew it was just speculation. Still, all the dots connected—Shizuku’s uniqueness, and everything else. Whether Aviella realized it or not, this wasn’t an opportunity Erik was willing to give up on. “Tell me. Where is that castle?” Erik firmly asked again. Tarkis hesitated for a moment, looking at the map of the northwestern region of the continent. Eventually, he sighed defeatedly and pointed to a specific spot. It was a barren stretch of land surrounded by tall, rocky mountains—a place where a nation had once stood during the Dark Age. Erik stared at the blank area and muttered the name of the kingdom that had vanished nearly six hundred years earlier. “…Helginis, huh?” It was the destruction of Helginis that had marked the end of the Dark Age, after being wiped out by witches in a single night. And it was at that very spot where the man’s rough finger now pointed. Snow covered the ground, clouds veiled the sky, and the world was dreary. The man intensified his dissatisfied gaze as he looked at the gloomy landscape that stretched out before him. There was nothing he hated more than the biting cold, which hurt his nose with every breath he took. After reciting a short incantation, he erected a barrier around himself and raised the temperature inside it. “Dammit… Curse that fool woman for putting me through all this trouble.” His work was always a bother, but this particular job was proving to be especially annoying. Still, ignoring it wasn’t an option, so he was better off finishing it as quickly as possible. Everything he could see was white. If his memory served him, the castle would be at the top of the mountain. There was a town at its base, but he’d used his own teleportation coordinates to avoid being spotted. All that was left to do was find the path leading up to the castle. As he searched his surroundings, the man spotted something in the distance and frowned. A bright green shape was coming down the snow-covered incline toward him. Shiron glanced out the window to see that the snow had started falling again. He put down his papers and sighed. Three days had passed since the unforeseen demon attack, and although his wounds had been healed with magic, the castle repairs still had a long way to go. The girl who’d come from Farsas was also weighing on his mind, but luckily, it didn’t seem as though she’d been found yet. His soldiers had dumped her in a forest a short distance from the castle. Nobody from the castle would venture there, and the town was quite far, so she should stay missing. “What an unfortunate girl…” If she’d answered his questions honestly from the start, things might not have had to turn out this way. She could have returned to her room earlier, and her mage chaperone would have been able to protect her. In the end, though, she’d just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shiron hadn’t really wanted her to die, but there was nothing else he could’ve done about it. And if a girl losing her life wasn’t bad enough, he’d barely made any progress with regard to the item. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and Shiron took a sip of tea to wash it out. When all was said and done, the secrets surrounding the item had been unveiled while his father was still prime minister. That was when Shiron had learned that the formal inheritance system only existed so it could be passed down. When he uncovered this truth, he’d felt uneasy about his future—but now that it was lost, he had no choice but to do what he could. Shiron rested his chin in his hands and sniggered. “I could’ve known the entirety of history, huh…? Did it really have that power?” Shiron had never come into direct contact with the item, so he couldn’t be sure. Still, when he thought about the godlike insight that his father had displayed, his impatience grew. It was a treasure that couldn’t be referred to by name. Shiron questioned whether he was truly fit to serve as Medial’s prime minister, since he was unaware of the “true history” that had been passed down through generations. Shiron managed to put his worries aside for the time being and decided to return to this office, but at that moment, an official came barging in. “Your Excellency! Something terrible has happened!” “What’s wrong? Did Farsas send a complaint?” Shiron wouldn’t have blamed them for complaining, but he’d already decided to play dumb. After all, the Farsasian investigation team had searched the castle and found nothing. Whatever Farsas said, there was nothing more the prime minister could offer. Shiron had assumed a carefree stance, but the next words to leave the official’s mouth made him drop his pen. Refusing to let his shock show on his face, he asked the man for confirmation. “Is that true?” “It is! The envoy has already—” “Excuse me.” Their conversation was interrupted by a man who’d appeared at the entrance of the room. There was a cynical look in the mage’s eyes, and he smirked when he saw Shiron. He proceeded to convey his messages, taking the words right out of the mouth of the official he’d cut off. “I’m here as an envoy of Queen Ortea of Kisk. We have received word that a woman in this country has gone missing.” “Wh-why is Kisk involved…?” Kisk was Farsas’s neighbor and one of the Great Nations. Shiron knew that there’d been a small conflict between the two countries recently, but he had no idea why Kisk would bother to dispatch someone here. When he recalled the callous reputation of the newly crowned queen—a reputation that reverberated all over the continent—his face grew tense. The mage watched Shiron’s unsettled reaction with a look in his eyes that dared Shiron to react. Yet he still maintained a polite demeanor, stretching out his right arm with feigned politeness. “Oh, weren’t you aware of the situation? The woman who went missing was handed over to Farsas as per a formal contract with Kisk. It’s quite inconvenient that she disappeared after only a month, so the queen has requested a thorough search.” “Well… Demons took her. The investigation team from Farsas has already searched the place fairly exhaustively…” “Their search might not have been extensive enough. In fact,” he said, lowering his voice, “I found something shortly after arriving here.” The mage held out his left hand, which had been hidden behind his back. When Shiron saw what the man was holding, he was left speechless. It was a green handkerchief with a few bloodstains on it. And wrapped inside it was the green bird that always sat on Shizuku’s shoulder. The cup she’d held in both hands was so warm it almost brought tears to her eyes. Bundled up in a blanket, Shizuku took a sip of sugary milk and gave another full-body shiver. “S-so cold…” “Well, duh. You would’ve died if you’d stayed out there.” Shizuku looked up in a daze at the man who’d practically kicked the door down when he’d returned. The color still hadn’t returned to her skin, and she raised a pale hand to greet him. “Thanks, rescue team.” “Are you trying to be funny?” Niké, who’d come here under Ortea’s orders, scowled and flicked her on the forehead. “Ouch!” yelped Shizuku. She sat up in the bed and bowed properly to the man. “Thank you for saving me.” It was no exaggeration to say she’d narrowly escaped death. After waking up in an unfamiliar forest, she’d started making her way down the snowy mountain. She must have passed out on her way down, though, because when she came to her senses, she’d been in the snow with her former colleague looking down at her, slapping her hard on the cheek. “I knew you were stupid, but what the heck do you think you’re doing?! You’ll die out here!” Niké had yelled at her, but Shizuku’s consciousness was so hazy, she hadn’t been able to understand. The arm he was using to support her body felt really warm. It almost felt like she’d finally be able to enjoy a proper sleep, but Niké had other ideas. “Don’t doze off, you idiot!” he said as he carried her into the lodge at the base of the mountain. Once she was inside, he left to fulfill the queen’s orders. The proprietress of the lodge had helped Shizuku get changed while he was gone. After that, she’d curled up and waited for Niké to return while her body struggled to regain its usual temperature. “…I really thought I was dead this time. That was a close one.” “I thought you were dead, too. You were covered in blood, and you were almost frozen. Are you an amphibian or something?” “I’m human, as far as I know.” Shizuku had exhausted her strength as she was making her way down through the trees. However, it seemed that Mea had woken up at the same time that Shizuku had passed out and gone down to the foot of the mountain with Shizuku’s handkerchief as a sign. Niké had happened to spot Mea and gone to search for Shizuku. He’d eventually found her collapsed, buried in the snow, and rescued her. Niké had used magic to heal her injuries and frostbite, but the cold that had permeated her core wasn’t so easy to get rid of. Shivering violently, Shizuku asked Niké a question. “What did Shiron say?” “I didn’t get anywhere at first. He was just making excuses,” replied Niké. “The branches in the forest where you woke up weren’t damaged enough for a demonic spirit to have dumped you there. When I pointed that out, he finally came clean. He thought you’d died and got frightened, so he left you in the forest.” “Nope, I’m alive and kicking.” Perhaps the demonic spirit attacks had left Shiron shaken up, but Shizuku wished he’d checked a little more carefully. Shizuku put down her cup and took Mea, who was still wrapped in her handkerchief, from Niké. Shizuku’s assistant demon must have been completely drained. She’d fallen asleep right after Shizuku was rescued and hadn’t woken since. “I hope Mea’s all right…” “Demons don’t die that easily. She’ll wake up soon.” “Yeah… Thanks.” Shizuku needed to thank Ortea later, too. After searching the castle and deeming their chances of finding Shizuku slim, Farsas had gotten Shiron to lower his guard by withdrawing their search. Then they’d asked Kisk to step in and shake things up. “I’m known for being lenient, while you’re famous for being ruthless,” Lars had said in his request to Ortea. “Don’t you think you’d make more of an impact in a situation like this?” Reading this, apparently the queen had been so angry that she’d almost burst a blood vessel. Shizuku silently apologized to Ortea in her mind. “Still, at least they didn’t bury me yet. Waking up during the cremation would be terrifying.” “They bury people in this region. They wrap you in cloth and put you in the ground.” “I wouldn’t like to be buried too deep… I’m not confident that I’d be strong enough to dig myself out.” Shizuku placed her cup back on the table and flexed her fingers. They still felt a bit numb. “What’s wrong?” Niké asked, sitting beside her. “Do your fingers feel weird?” “A little. But I can move them.” “Your hand was black from frostbite. I thought I’d done an okay job of healing it, but maybe I was wrong.” Niké casually took Shizuku by the hand. She raised her eyebrows, surprised by how warm his hand was. “You’re so warm! How are you that warm?! Are you a human-body warmer or something?” “…You’re just freezing.” “Oh. Well, still, you’re really warm.” After holding Niké’s hand long enough to feel normal again, Shizuku finally let go. But at that moment, he grabbed her hand instead and pulled her toward him. The sudden closeness made Shizuku’s eyes widen in shock. She finally remembered what had happened the last time they said goodbye—something that she’d almost forgotten. A stiff smile crossed Shizuku’s face. “Um, did you get in touch with Farsas?” she asked. “The more important question is, are you sure your back’s okay?” replied Niké. “Yeah, it’s fine…” He’d asked the same question right after picking her up off the ground. At first, Shizuku hadn’t understood why, but when she got changed, she realized the back of her clothing was soaked with blood. He must have thought that she’d been hurt. Shizuku had no wounds on her back, though, so it must have been someone else’s blood. If someone had lost that much blood without anyone to help them, they had probably died. Shizuku casually waved her hand to reassure him. “I might be cold, but I’m perfectly fine. I’m completely healthy, see?” “I’m not sure I trust your definition of ‘healthy.’” “That hurts…” She couldn’t blame him for saying that, but they were standing so close their bodies were almost touching. Getting lectured at that distance was extremely uncomfortable. Shizuku wanted to make a break for it, but Niké was still holding her hand. “Would you mind letting go of me, Niké…?” she asked, feeling kind of awkward, but Niké just continued staring at her in silence. Shizuku felt so uncomfortable she almost broke out in a cold sweat. Won’t he at least say something? she thought, averting her gaze and looking down at her lap. Just as she was about to speak up again, however, a whooshing sound sliced through the air. Shizuku looked up and yelped in surprise. “Aah!” Niké had tensed up in front of her, a bitter expression on his face. A small, golden arrow was hovering inside the room, having stopped in midair right before it pierced his temple. It was the same arrow that had come for Niké back when they were in Kisk. “Wh-why is that here…?” “—I’m so pleased you’re safe, Shizuku.” “Oh, Princess Leuticia!” Princess Leuticia—a woman praised by all for her exquisite beauty—had entered the room wearing a flawless smile. Shizuku hurriedly rose to her feet, amazed to see her boss had traveled so far to see her. At the same time, she glanced back at Niké, who was still too scared to move. “Um, about this arrow…” “Ahh, yes,” said Leuticia, turning to face Niké. “You must be that mage from Kisk. Thank you for your help. But let me warn you, if you dare lay a finger on Shizuku again, I’ll make you regret it. Oh, and give my regards to the queen.” “…” Shizuku sensed there was a cruel threat mixed in there somewhere. She started to understand why Niké was afraid of Leuticia but decided not to probe further. With a snap of Leuticia’s fingers, the golden arrow vanished without a trace. Now that the danger had gone, Niké finally stood up and offered Leuticia a formal greeting. However, before he got the chance to finish, another voice cut in. “You’ve got your sights set on that girl, huh? Good, go ahead and take her.” “Lars!” cried out Leuticia. “You can’t just give her away! If Shizuku stays in Farsas, Erik will, too!” “So that’s what you were thinking? As far as I’m concerned, that mage can do whatever he wants with her.” “Uh, where do my human rights come into this…?” Why had Lars come along, too? Having appeared behind Leuticia, Lars patted his sister on the head and pointed out a window in the hallway behind him. Through the hazy, snow-covered glass, Shizuku could see tall, white mountains. “Has the proclamation of war not reached you here yet?” “What proclamation of war?” It was a prayer etched into history. A trial tainted in blood and despair. Twilight was only just descending over the castle city, but all of a sudden, the sky was cloaked in darkness. It almost felt as if it had been waiting for Lars’s cue. Shizuku was stunned by the dark sky. “An eclipse…? But it happened so suddenly.” A thick blanket of shadows covered the ground, and a dark mist worked its way toward the sky. In an instant, the dim castle city had been cut off from the rest of the world, plunged into a darkness so deep you’d be forgiven for thinking it had descended into the underworld. Miasma trailed through the air, evading the last remnants of sunlight. Lars laughed fearlessly as he flung the window open. “See? It’s here.” The other citizens seemed to have noticed the sudden arrival of darkness as well. Windows had opened throughout the town, and people were looking up at the sky—the focal point of their fearful, bewildered gazes. As the apocalyptic scene was unfolding, a woman suddenly appeared in the air. Her face was unfamiliar, and she was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that covered her from neck to toe. The subtle shimmer of her long, silver hair made it look like moonlight was reflecting off her. It wasn’t clear what color her eyes were, but she was gazing down upon the city below. She appeared completely surreal. To Shizuku’s mind, she looked like an image projected onto the dark sky. Yet when the woman parted her crimson lips, her voice seemed to echo to the ends of the earth. “Darkness…is coming.” At the end of the hidden past, after memory has been lost, people will continue to be born. The masses are unaware of the reality of their world. It is because they do not know, because they have forgotten, that trials appear before them. The threats and mistakes that the continent has overcome are resurfacing. “Darkness is coming. Conflict is coming. To you humans who have enjoyed your peaceful slumber. The age when humanity will cower in fear of the darkness and tremble at the thought of death has come once again.” She strung her words together in a resonant voice. What did she mean? Lars laughed, and Leuticia closed her eyes. “The darkness doesn’t care whether or not you’re sinners—it will devour you all and leave you to rot. Unjust endings will flood every corner of your land, and the things you hold dear will slip through your fingers.” There was once a time when the continent endured seven hundred long years of tyranny. During this period, war relentlessly scorched both the people and the land, and countless nations were created and destroyed. It was referred to as the Dark Age—an era when that which had been taken was stolen again, and that which had been lovingly cultivated was trampled upon. Hearing what sounded like this woman announcing the return of this age, Shizuku held her breath, standing frozen to the spot. “Death will rain down on you and pile up at your feet. Nowhere shall escape it; all will share equally in the despair. Borders will fade, and the world will become seeped in Negativity… That is, if you surrender to it.” The woman’s voice, clear and unwavering, carried with it nothing but pure determination. Her smile was beautiful, yet so sublime it made one hesitate to speak. “Challenge it, humans, if you have the willpower. Show it how strong you are and defy its attempts to steal from you. Only the person who ascends to the summit of blood and resentment shall seize this continent and become its new king.” The woman took a breath and smiled softly, looking around at the snow-covered world. For that brief moment, the sharpness vanished from her eyes, replaced by a light as if she were praying. Her gaze almost seemed to contradict the severe proclamation she’d just made, and Shizuku found herself drawn to it. Then the woman concluded her proclamation. “My name is Aviella, the Seventh Witch. I will be waiting for you at the end of one era and the beginning of another.”